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hopecomesbacktolife · 30 days

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so I rewatched this episode recently and I am now Thinking Some Thoughts TM about The Librarians season 2 episode 9 And The Happily Ever Afters

namely, I was thinking about how I feel like there’s been discussions about the general plot, admiration for the funny bits and Fleve moments (as there should be!) a general appreciation for the overarching plot of the episode, how it’s compelling that they turn away from their “happily ever after” or, as Ariel put it, “their heart’s desire” right? and, while I’m sure we could even discuss whether these AU lives shown in the episode would really be these characters’ most secret, deepest wishes, given what we know about them—

I want to set that aside for a minute and really think about the premise. Ariel was saying that no human has ever been able to turn their back on that willingly, right? and my first thought was some abstract idea— humans being unable to turn their backs on true love, on the person they want to be with, or perhaps on the job they want most, or even something like having their own peaceful home, right?

but then I thought, okay, what would this be for me? My deepest desire, the thing that makes my heart ache with yearning— is it belonging? love? What would it actually look like to have the offer of your wildest hopes to be real, and to, for the good of the world and to save you and your friends’ (and the entire world) lives, to walk away from that?

and it’s that last bit of the question that really stopped me in my tracks because. and I don’t know if this is just because I’ve been thinking of STIV a lot recently, but. really? truly? if we’re being honest? deepest, fiercest desire? thing I would long for most in the world? fictitious alternate life that would be hardest to give up as it constitutes a happy ending? like, for me, that’s a Star Trek world, no question even about it. A hopeful optimistic future where humanity is among the stars, racism, sexism, homophobia, human xenophobia, and other forms of bigotry have been virtually eliminated, everyone’s basic needs are met and we’re no longer seeing constant and insidious human rights violations? humanity come together to create an equitable, fair, good world for all that has done away with money and everyone’s needs are met, medical care is free, incredibly accessible, and available to all, people are free to pursue their interests with no capitalistic control upon them, we’ve reached the stars and are caring for our earth, each other, and making friendships with new species?

like, ough. It’s Gillian Taylor being able to come with Kirk and crew back to the 23rd century and live there, you know? It’s that scene in Diane Duane’s TNG novel Dark Mirror where [redacted] is in awe at the prime universe’s wondrous hope and equality and loveliness! it’s The ultimate fantasy, this post-scarcity post-bigotry equitable utopia, you know?

If I was stuck in a life AU like the others in the show, I’m almost certain it would be being put into Star Trek. and I just. can you imagine, being placed into a Star Trek life, and then being asked to give that up, to save the world? how do you give up a future beyond hatred, beyond bigotry, beyond systemic inequalities and oppression and war and capitalistic medical systems and. and. how in hell could someone give that up? how is saving the world the very giving up of the better-future-dream made real, made tangible? when saving the world is somehow going back to the one that seems Worse, where we’re still dealing with all of these hates and bigotries and money-originated-violences? how is that saving the world? and, to be selfish, to give up a world free of homophobia, with instantly available medical care?

I just. god, with the self-reinforcing nature of the AU life spell I just. I don’t know if I’d be able to give it up. Would anyone be able to convince me that it’s not real? And even if, somewhere in my heart of hearts, I know that it isn’t real, that I’d been stuck into a materialized Star Trek AU that isn’t real life… could I give that up? to be completely serious, you know, envisioning that as a real life situation… could I truly look at that life, and say yes, this is exactly what I want, in this life I would never be denied medical care and have no need to work under capitalistic society and am fully accepted and cherished in my queerness and in space… and to say yes, it’s everything I’ve ever yearned for, and then to shut the door on that, and knowingly return to the world of our current day?

I don’t know, y’all. I mean. Even if I did do it, which isn’t 100% certain—but looking within myself I think I could have the strength to do it, but I’d need some time to bid farewell in my heart, it couldn’t be sudden— the very act of seeing a Star Trek future and being in it and then… to willingly leave… it would break my heart so deeply, I just. how does one recover from that? my throat hurts with the sheer emotion and sadness at the very thought; how could one knowingly, informedly leave such a place and not have your heart forever changed? I think I’d always feel a little wounded, a certain especially tender spot somewhere deep within myself. To have held that future and then let it slip from your fingers…

I think this is especially poignant and moving to me given that this comes immediately following And The Point of Salvation and we know that Ezekiel remembers everything, and even though he seems to be fine because the writers don’t let his character breathe and give him the space and respect he’s due / Julian Bashir-ify him / are racist and don’t let him express it onscreen, there’s no way that didn’t majorly fuck him up psychologically, and I feel like, as sweet as this episode is presented onscreen, it’s kind of the emotional narrative successor to the previous episode because it’s like, the other side of the forever-changed-self coin. to really, truly walk away from what you most desire?

for me, to walk away from a brief moment of living in a Star Trek world? to quote another story, I think I might be brave enough; but I don’t think I’d ever feel the same and, I think there would be so much indescribable sadness to the aftermath of this.

Even if we argue that each of their life AUs were vastly more personal than worldwide-altering hopes and dreams, still, and even given that these events were followed up by the season finale (which was very good as well!!) I think the characters would all really, really need time to sit with and process the grief of losing… whatever their heart’s-desire-lives were, whether we agree with the accuracy of the ones we saw on screen or no. I think they’d need to really mourn those brief flashes of an alternate life; and even after they went back to work and proceeded “as normal” I think these sadnesses would crop back up from time to time as a certain sound, certain name, certain object or scenery or other occurrence briefly brought their memory back to those brief flashes of another time, another life. And they’d help each other through it, of course, but. what a particular sadness that would be.

I dunno, I guess I just got to thinking about how incredibly difficult and heartbreaking it would be to be placed into a Star Trek future and then have to make the choice to give that up, and how I don’t think any of the Librarians or Eve would bounce back to normal immediately, how they’d need to give themselves time to feel all of the emotions and process the losses of the time when they inhabited their hearts’ desires because, ough, I would be such a mess.

maybe sometime I’ll write a fic about this because there’s so much unexplored emotional potential and angst/hurt/comfort territory going on here, but I had to get these thoughts out because the concept of being handed your deepest, dearest wishes and then being asked to recant to save the world is so, so much more intense, more heartbreakingly bittersweet, more layered than we really got screen time for, and is (to me at least!) so worth exploring in terms of how it would affect the characters in the weeks/months etc beyond the events of the episode. ough, just. so many feelings about this♡

#the librarians #star trek #personal #it would be so hard. and would probably break ones heart yknow. anyways. fan meta etc #my words #and the happily ever afters #hah. edited to add a read more because I remembered those are a thing!

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stoptellinglieslois · 7 months

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Love fair Act 2

I think this fic will mostly be Dick's pov.

Clark Kent x Dick Grayson Pairing

As the days and months go by I start to gain muscle mass my veins are starting to form, Eyeballs and my heart is reforming again I lay here as my body is reviving itself back to the undead state it is a dark marvel to see.

As I sit here my vision blurred but I could see the male again he is wearing a spectacle on his face and has raven black hair in a room with that cold woman.

"God Lois I want to take you to the football game on friday night, I just think that we could you know hang out together.. I mean we don." He is cut off swiftly from the woman. "No Clark you keep asking me to go out with you I am going with Charles." As she writes a stack of paper on her desk.

The energy around her is dark and a cold breeze is always around her every time the opportunity is presented in front of me it never sits well being around Lois I don't want him to be around her. "Lois I keep asking you because I want you to give me a shot." From what I gather he has feelings for her which this is ill-advised. "Clark your just not my thing farm boy ok I am pretty sure you could find someone your own level." She is a reptile to hurt him like this to strike his heart with a dagger and twist it as she shot him down with arrows.

I would make her pay for that.

Clark sat on his desk as others walked in and out of the room he was wounded and crushed his spirit and his soul. I would take care of it I felt every pain every carved out emotion that was now hurt and exposed falling out on his heart broken hurt lay on the desk.

I looked less like a skeleton and more formed I could move my toes and digits, Drinking more blood from animals was making me stronger day by day.

I know this is not my fishermen but he looks exactly like him it was like he leaped through time and found himself here. He got up and walked out it was like I was in the room with him I walked out with him and blew the papers off of her desk. "No my god why me." She yelled as others came to her rescue in picking up the papers off the floor.

I decided to reply to her. {Not god but I WOULD NEVER PICK YOU.} I demanded her attention and she froze like a frightened animal, That made me happy to see her freezing like prey scared and alert and that's how I would keep her on her toes.

I would spend my days connecting with Clark Kent he was a sweet man a bit bookish it's endearing he is nothing like the fisherman as I have more of a chance to observe him.

But that woman is evil and wicked every time he would be near her it was tragic to watch. I am one of the dark ones no matter what or how I see it or explain it but this woman is truly wicked in her there's true evil.

And my Clark is in love with her and it is not what I want and something has to be done about it, And I refuse to let him be struck down by this woman each time every day he spends moaning over her every day I get more and more motivate to spirit him away from this woman.

I did what I always did many centuries before I would send him my love, But how would I do that not that I can't do it I could do multiple things without even doing anything that's not the problem it's just that this centuries I have know idea what to do.

I would have to think about that sooner than later I knew magic quite well if I can mix magic and telepathy and hypnosis I could get a lot accomplished.

As I watched Clark and the class room read out loud each child seemed unemotional with no investment in what they were reading, I looked at one of the youth who seemed to like what he was reading.

Clark looks around and he picks youth who are too invested in their looks and would rather be doing naughty things then to get stuck here reading, I went closer to a young man that enjoyed what he was reading, I got behind his desk and I used some charm on the youth.

Clark looked around and he looked right where the youth was my spirit is standing behind, "Conner please read out loud." I made the boy rise up off his seat I possessed him fully heart body and soul book in hand. "Fold your arms around me close and strain me so that our hearts may break and our souls go free at last." I made him read it passionately with the feelings that our bottle up inside of me for longer than I could ever remember I made the youth read it as if I was in the room with Clark.

Clark blushed it was so lovely of a flush of rose on his cheeks as he watched the youth, The raven that came a few months before presented himself by the window again.

"Caw Caw caw." He exclaimed the children mostly were startled by it, Clark shoeing him away but he stayed there and fell silent knowing not to make a sound for not to be chased out. "That was very good Conner did you read the book." Clark asked taken by Conner's method of reading. "No I didn't I am not sure what's going on." The other youths laughed at him I didn't like it so the raven flew in the class room someone forgot to close the window I suppose.

It made his point in flying mad in the class room the raven laughed at the youth and flew away as Clark chased after him, I didn't have vocal cords yet but this would make me laugh.

I loved to do things in the past like this even if it was not becoming of me oh well. I was able to stay in this reality much longer now I would dream at times but they would be only about the past.

I was spirited away from Clark and his class room and wandered around the area that was my temporary resting place, All I saw was cornfields and fields that went for miles emerald green lands and beautiful country side.

I kept exploring and saw a flower shop that had lovely roses and lilies. I loved the lilies. The shop had an array of them but the dark plum red looking ones are beautiful they are called night rider lilies.

I made the shop keeper arrange a bouquet and he added a baby breath plant they are small little white flowers to go with the bouquet, He wrapped it up in a black velvet type of paper and walked out the shop.

I made the shop keeper do all of this without me being physically there, It was a big feat which means I am able to control humans now.

Good the shop keeper made its way to the school and found Clark and put the bouquet on the desk, The other teachers were surprised. "Who's your secret admire Clark." A woman with red hair who came close to his desk had a beautiful and sincere smile as she saw the flowers on Clark's desk. "I have no idea who did all of this." Clark is completely floored by this I could tell this man was never loved truly always pushed aside not being praised I would fix that.

"Well however given these flowers to you is quite morbid it's all dark and that velvet wrapping.." The red haired woman cut off that witch faster then her broomstick can take off.

"Has Charles ever given you flowers Lois I never saw him once tried nor even attempted to give you anything except an infection." However this woman is I give her ten points of dismantling this woman.

"He didn't give me an infection he gave me covid."

"That's still an infection Lane." The red hair countered and the wicked lady fell silent and filed some papers.

The red hair praised Clark and they both asked about who could it be as they list names, The other just sat there in her own foolish defeat as she said nothing the whole evening only listening to how lovely this all was.

End of act 2 on to act 3

Thank you for reading

#dick grayson #clark x dick #nightwing x superman parings #clark kent #fandom #fanfic stuff #fanfic smut #fanfiction #slash fandom #fandom things #fandom thoughts #vampire #vampcore #vampirecore #my fanfiction

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fanficsagainstboredom · 1 year

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Shadowhunters

Here are some of my favourite Shadowhunters fanfiction.

Summary:

"When Jocelyn agreed to take Alec off Maryse’s hand when she was escaping Valentine she never truly realise the implication of raising two shadowhunter children but with one of them having warlock abilities on top of all that it was a struggle to keep the whole shadowworld a secret from both of them. Alec’s magic was both extraordinary and flipping annoying because she can’t remember how many pieces of furniture she had to replace because of some accidental magical burst when Alec was a toddler and don’t get Jocelyn started on trying to train Alec to control his magic. To this day she was ever so grateful for Dot for being by her side throughout the whole of Alec and Clary’s childhood.

AU: Maryse gives Alec to Jocelyn when she escapes Valentine and Alec grows up living an mundane life until Clary's eighteenth birthday when they discover the shadowworld together."

Summary:

"He grunted in pain and looked down at his injury. Seeing the sliced flesh he huffed angrily. Reaching into his pocket he pulled out a pen-like object, without releasing her wrist he brought it up to one of his many complicated tattoos. It flared to life, his wounded skin knitting back together easily.

She was still crouched there with one wrist limp in his hand, her mouth open wide.

“So? How can you see me?”

She gathered herself and snapped, “More importantly, what the fuck?”

He rolled his eyes at her, “That’s a pretty open question, ‘what the fuck’ to what?”

What-If Clary and Alec had met before the start of the series."

Summary:

"Magnus is turned into a dragon and appears to be stuck that way. (This is not how he pictured his Tuesday going.)

Alec is called to handle a disturbance that involves a dragon and meets a creature that is scared and in need of protection.

Within minutes of meeting each other, they are inseparable, with Alec taking responsibility for the small dragon, and Magnus taking advantage of the protection offered by the shadowhunter.

Neither of them is expecting a convenient arrangement for them both to evolve into something much, much more."

Summary:

"When Magnus found out a shadowhunter, of all things, was taking care of a warlock child, well, to say he was shocked would be an extreme understatement.

Centuries of experience with shadowhunters had taught him that they were not to be trusted. They were cruel, and had killed many of his kind simply for existing. The other thing that scared Magnus was that the shadowhunter was a Lightwood, and of all the shadowhunter famillies he'd met, the Lightwoods were by far one of the worse.

Or: Author wanted a cute single dad Alec fic where he adopts Madzie and Magnus sees them together and falls in love with Alec because he's a single shadowhunter parent to a warlock child."

Summary:

"What if Alec and Magnus had already met during that Pandemonium scene in the very first episode?

Or, how things might have gone if Magnus and Alec had just had a few extra days to get to know each other, before Valentine’s schemes, Clary’s various crusades, Lightwood family history revelations and Clave-Downworld politics made everything more difficult for them than it really needed to be.

It truly might have made all the difference in the world."

Summary:

"Alec Lightwood, grad student at NYU, gets hired by Magnus Bane, CEO of Edom Enterprises, as the new caretaker of the latter's three kids, Max Rafael and Madzie.

Alec has a temper.

Magnus is rude.

Both have a past that they'd like to forget

Magnus' past includes an arranged marriage, heartbreak, cheating and Camille Belcourt while Alec's past... oh well, only Alec knows about his past.

They resent each other, until one day...they don't."

#shadowhunters #fanfiction #fanfic #fanfic rec #shadowhunters fanfiction #fanfic recs #fanfiction recommendation #magnus x alec #alec lightwood #clary fray #magnus bane

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the-insomniac-emporium · 3 years

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I love your writing.

if it's not too much trouble may i make a request? I'm thinking the Dimitrescu women meeting and/or courting a fellow immortal.

the circumstances of the immortal's powers and possession of immorality are entirely up to you. I just like the idea of them meeting someone they could literally spend forever with...because they deserve it ❤

I wasn't sure if you wanted a story or headcanons? I went with HCs, here, but if you wanted more of a drabble or whatever just lemme know and I'll write something like that.

Also, I got excited and carried away so this has the whole Dimitrescu family, plus shorter ones for both Mother Miranda and Donna. Admittedly Alcina's is also a little on the shorter side? I tried to write everything that came to mind, but I am kinda tired right now, sorry. Might reblog this and add some more later.

(Under read-more for length)

Cassandra:

Tries (and fails) to hide her excitement. Mortality is one of the bigger things that has made her keep her distance to others, at least in the past. Every Maiden she’s ever been the slightest bit smitten with, up until this point, has been incredibly fragile. Seeing as she’s not exactly the softest person, one can easily imagine why that would be a turn off for her. But now that’s no longer a problem!

On the other had… having an immortal partner gives Cassandra pause. Why? Because what if they breakup? Normally, she can just, ahem, “dispose” of any exes (regardless of how much it hurts) so she doesn’t have to see them/deal with them anymore. If that’s not an option, she’ll definitely take longer than usual to do anything about her feelings. She wants to be sure, 100%, before she gets in over her head. Chances are she won’t hold back for as long as she wants though.

Likely to have a loud, messy confession. She’ll have been avoiding you for a few days, always ducking out of whatever rooms you enter, leaving you both hurt and confused. After enlisting the help of her sisters, you’ll be able to corner her outside. She’ll tell you, under no uncertain circumstances, to leave her alone. But you’ll refuse, demanding an explanation.

“I thought we had something. I thought you cared,” you’ll snap, eyes watering. “If that’s changed… if I was wrong, just tell me. I’ll leave and I’ll never come back.” Cue thunder and raining (because tropes) and Cassandra dramatically pulling you into a kiss, holding you so tightly you think you might bruise. Then she’s demanding that you stay, refusing to apologize but making it clear just how much she does care.

Being immortal, you’re not as defenseless as some of Cassandra’s past interests. Naturally, she doesn’t get quite as protective as she normally would. She’ll still have your back no matter what, ready to fight by your side against any foe, and will probably consider doing so a “fun bonding activity”. Oh, some lycans are encroaching on Dimitrescu territory? Time to go destroy them, as a power couple!

Despite having all the time in the world, Cassandra won’t change much of her actual courting behavior, nor the rate at which things advance. She’s still gonna get handsy fairly early on, still gonna “rah!” at you in the hallways, and still going to struggle with her jealousy.

Immortality Compatibility: I can see Cassandra going for another vampire (or vampire adjacent) creature, or someone demonic. She likes her lovers a bit rough, with some nice bite to their personalities. If you’ve got sharp teeth, or claws, or glowing eyes? Oh boy, she’s gonna be making heart eyes at you all the time.

Bela:

If your immortality isn’t immediately obvious, Bela is over the moon with joy when she finds out. Her eyes will go wide for a moment, before she tries to seem calm (so as to not freak you out), but her heart is pounding. This is what she’s been hoping for. As much as Mother Miranda has done for her family, there’s no guarantee that she’d be willing to give more. Even if Miranda granted Bela’s lover her “gift”, there was no telling what the results would be, or if the lover would survive. Now that there’s no need for such a transformation, it’s far easier for Bela to imagine herself in love (and eventually be in love).

Slow-burn romance over a decade or longer, oops. Doesn’t even necessarily mean to take things so slowly, just doesn’t feel a need to rush things, preferring that they develop organically. With both of you having unlimited time, you’re both used to working on a very large timescale. Maidens watching the two of you probably place bets on how long it’ll take you to hold hands for the first time. Everyone knows it’s coming, but no matter how much Cassandra and Daniela complain, Bela refuses to jump into things. By the time the two of you are officially together, you’re probably madly in love with each other.

More protective than Cassandra, if only because she knows just how rare you are. Immortal or not, you likely still have a weakness, and Bela will do everything in her power to make sure no one else knows what it is. If applicable, she will also ensure she has a countermeasure readily available. For example: If you were weak to fire, she’d make sure that the castle keeps extinguishers handy, just in case. Though they should probably already do that. Not that the Dimitrescu family cares much for OSHA compliance.

Somehow grows more in love with you with every passing year, and makes sure that you know this. Whether you’ve been together for one year or one century (because in this house we ignore canon), she’s always performing little acts of love, giving constant reminders of how strongly she feels. Gifts, special dates, book recommendations, etc.

Immortality Compatibility: Bela seems like the type to go for someone with a calming presence, and perhaps somewhat of a contrast to herself. I can picture her with someone somewhat angelic, or druidic, someone very in tune with nature. She’d love to feed deer with you and relax in the forest! Or lay against a tree by your side, listening to you talk about various microorganisms for hours at a time.

Daniela:

Practically tackles you when she finds out/connects the dots. This is just like one of her romance novels, where a lonely (attractive as fuck) immortal spends years in isolation before finally meeting the love of their life, who they get to spend the rest of eternity with. Absolutely ecstatic about the whole situation. Won’t stop kissing you and pulling you close, rambling about how great it’s gonna be to spend your lives together. Honestly? Kind of overwhelming. You might have to remind her a few times that you don’t have to rush into things, considering you have all the time in the world.

Introduces you to people as her “super cool/rad immortal life partner”. Genuinely cannot bring herself to not brag about you. If her sisters haven’t found someone like you yet, you can bet that Daniela will tease them about it all the time (much to their annoyance). If Momma Alcina doesn’t, though? Dani will keep her thoughts to herself, thank you very much (being grounded at her age does not impress the s/o).

Tries not to show it, but she’s actually very nervous. You’re immortal! You’ve probably seen a lot of shit (she certainly has)! Worries about keeping you interested in her, though she would never admit it. This tends to lead to her performing ridiculous acts to showcase her affection, regardless of the cost or, like, whether or not you’d even enjoy whatever she has planned. In order to counter her anxiety, you’ll want to reassure her whenever you can, and give her plenty of “I love you”s.

Strikes a decent balance between Cassandra’s nonchalant attitude and Bela’s protectiveness. Will defend you if you need it, playing up the romantic aspect, but also entirely willing to hide behind you in a scary situation.

Immortality Compatibility: Having probably read Twilight… Dani would date a werewolf, as long as they weren’t the smelly kind. Also interested in a sort of “magical”/elemental type, especially if their powers are influenced by emotions. In other words, if someone flirts with her in front of you, and your response is to subconsciously light your hands/the other person on fire? She thinks that’s hot, pun intended.

Alcina:

“Oh? Interesting,” she’d say, smiling softly (and trying to ignore the heat rushing to her face). Similarly to Cassandra, she’d try to play it off, not wanting to seem too excited. And, well, she’s not as excited as any of her daughters are. After all, she’s had more time than them to “get used” to the idea of outliving any potential romantic interests. So, she’s not exactly desperate for a relationship, even with someone she could spend an eternity with.

That being said, if she is romantically interested in them, she’s very relieved. Outliving a loved one can be incredibly traumatizing (fuck you c*pcom, you know what you did), and knowing that you’re safe (or at least safer than most) brings her no small amount of comfort.

Also, just glad to have another person close to her age around. Her daughters are somewhat stuck as young adults, and I imagine Alcina would want someone who gained immortality a little later in life, such as herself, as opposed to, ya know, reminding her of her children. That probably goes without saying. Hopefully.

More so than her daughters, Alcina would change her level of protectiveness depending on her s/o’s power level. If you’re a shapeshifter who can also turn into a big ass dragon? Then she’s not going to coddle you. If you’re immortal but still vulnerable, then she’s going to do her best to keep you safe, even going so far as to enlist the assistance of her daughters. “If you see a single Maiden growing mistletoe, or bringing some in from the village, let me know immediately,” or something like that, depending on your weakness.

Immortality Compatibility: Definitely would want someone in a situation similar to herself, having once been truly human, only to be “elevated” by something. Bonus points if you’re another disciple of Miranda, double bonus points if Miranda specifically “made” you to be Alcina’s boo/honey/darling/dear.

Bonus! Mother Miranda:

Oh god finally someone who won’t leave her (can’t leave her). No one can take you away from her, and that’s a relief that she’s been craving for over a century. Even if romance isn’t high on her priority list, she welcomes it with open arms, glad to have someone by her side through all of life’s chaos.

Admittedly slow to trust at first, probably just using you as a tool at first. But prove yourself enough, show that your devotion is more than just misdirected self-interest, and she’ll start to warm up to you. Forming a real relationship would likely take a couple decades, similar to with Bela. Once you are together, however, the two of you are inseparable in all matters.

You’d be her #1 follower, most trusted adviser, and the only person allowed to understand 100% of her thoughts and motives. While Miranda wouldn’t allow you to be seen as the same level as her (sorry), you’d still be a legend among the villagers. To them, you’re Mother Miranda’s champion, the epitome of a devoted follower that they all aspire to emulate. Not that they know the two of you are a couple, though.

Immortality Compatibility: No gimmicks, no cheap tricks, she wants (and respects) a fellow scientist, someone who clawed their way through adversity and forged themselves into something indestructible. Double the interest if you did so for a similar cause to her own, as she would appreciate your ability to relate to her suffering.

Bonus! Donna:

Someone to play with! FOREVER! No more losing people she cares about, no more accidentally breaking people, no more people scrambling to leave. Now that she has you, she can finally spend some quality time with another (living?) person. Honestly her dolls (or at least Angie) are just as excited as she is. Regardless of her relations with the other three Lords, Donna much prefers the company of a lover.

For real though she’s shy as hell and you might not even realize who’s pulling the strings until you’ve been in her house for over a year. She’d probably use her powers to trap you inside, at least at first, though they’d be nice hallucinations. You’d have to treat the dolls nicely, especially Angie, before she’d let you interact with her.

Eventually you’d be allowed to leave, and you’d be given a key to return whenever you wanted to. Assuming that you do, in fact, come back, the two of you would have a very, very slow romance, if only because of Donna’s anxiety. Hand holding makes both of your faces turn beet red, seriously.

Immortality Compatibility: *chanting* GHOST GIRLFRIEND GHOST GIRLFRIEND POLTERGEIST PARTNER POLTERGEIST PARTNER WOOHOO! Something with a flexible, only-sometimes-tangible form, who absolutely could have left at any time but didn’t because they wanted to stay.

#cassandra dimitrescu x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #mother miranda x reader #donna beneviento x reader #resident evil: village #re8 village

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roger-that-cap · 3 years

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wildest dreams

witch!wanda x reincarnated!reader

summary: wanda had walked around the earth for centuries with no magic and hardly any soul left after losing her soulmate. she thought that her lover would never return and that the only reunion they would have would be in the afterlife, but a run-in with bucky changes everything after he insists that he met the long gone y/n at a fountain in the park.

yet another au by me...

word count: around 6.5k?

imma tag one person bc she gets upset when she isn’t tagged- and idk if anyone else would actually be interested?

@teenwonder

also this picture is not mine, and the dividers are by @firefly-graphics !!

without further ado, it’s almost 6 in the morning but i give you this!!

She held you tight, fingers digging into your skin as she trembled above you. The rose bushes were rustling in the wind next to you both, the sweet smell of the flowers contrasting with the moment. You were halfway gone already, eyes far off but trying to swim back to the surface, wanting to look at her one last time before the inevitable happened.

“S…” you tried to say, but she hushed you immediately, tears falling down on your face and mixing with your own. You shook her head at her as hard as you could, begging for her to let you continue. “Say you’ll remember me,” you ground out, fingers tightening around her hand.

“What?” Wanda asked, voice already thick with grief as she tried to decide whether or not it was better to keep the knife lodged between your ribs inside of you.

“When I come back-” you cut yourself off by coughing up blood, and Wanda didn’t even wince when it splattered on her cheek. “Back for you, promise that you’ll remember me.”

“Darling,” Wanda whispered back, her voice cracking as she bent over and rested her head on your stomach for a moment, hiding her sob. She could feel her magic tingling inside of her; under her skin, in her bones, dancing on her fingertips. “I wish I knew- I wish I just knew how-”

“Please.” You said, a desperate look in your eyes as you halted her words, already knowing what Wanda wanted. But natural magic was nothing to mess with. She sobbed again with her lips pressed together, no sound escaping her. You squeezed her hand tighter as the sun started on its routine descent, basking the two of you in an orange glow that you would have stopped to admire in any other moment in time. But Wanda would grow to hate that shade of orange with every breath in her. “Please.” It would always remind her of the sound of your begging, voice reaching for something that she couldn’t see.

Maybe it was the desperation in your voice, or the way that she just knew that you were well within your last moments, because she looked up at you one last time. “Of course I’ll remember you, darling. I couldn’t even dream of forgetting you.” There was a wheezing sound that came from your chest as you cracked a bloody smile, and then you gave one last squeeze before you looked away from her, your soul settling in the afterlife.

Wanda Maximoff would never forget it. Suddenly, her previously irrational fear of losing her magic became real, but that feeling didn’t even come close to the one she got when you grew lifeless in her arms.

Ever since you knew what a normal person was supposed to be like, you had identified that you, in fact, were not the normal person that you were probably supposed to be. Normal people didn’t daydream to the point where it felt like their bodies weren’t in the present anymore. Normal people didn’t have birthmarks under their ribs that aced and burned. Normal people didn’t feel out of touch with their world, like they weren’t even meant to be in the century they were in. Normal people didn’t feel like they were searching for something tirelessly, something just under their noses. And normal people surely didn’t dream of the same set of hands, same pair of eyes, or the same voice over and over again, a new setting every time, but always the same, faceless person. You either drew the same faceless person or rose bushes, and every sketch book you ever had was full of them.

At first, you were sure that you were going insane. Every time you closed your eyes, you would see a flash of reddish brown hair, or the same set of eyes, or the same pair of pale hands. You kept seeing this person without ever seeing a face for nights at a time before you went to see a therapist, who just ended up telling you that worrying about it was only going to make it worse, whatever it even was. But eventually, you learned to get used to it.

Acceptance turned into expectancy. You went to sleep knowing that there was going to be a pair of hands accompanied by the same slender fingers as always before you, sometimes intertwined with your own. You knew that there was going to be a set of eyes on you, watching you intently with no ace to go with them. You knew that you would hear whispers of the same voice, speaking so clearly in a language you didn’t even come close to understanding, and soon, you were craving to see and hear those things. And wanting to see them led to something that you never told your therapist; drawings.

You drew nearly every day under the sky, trying to find different park benches to see the sun rise and set at different angles for inspiration. You loved the sky, moon and stars alike, but there was something special about sunrises and sunsets. Sunrises and sets both meant new beginnings to you, out with the old and in with the new, and each rise and fall filled you with a strange feeling of nostalgia. You were watching the sunset on a park bench by yourself, a sketchbook sitting on your lap as you held an idle pencil, still thinking about the way you wanted to draw the hands. The birthmark between your ribs started to tingle, letting you know that it was about to burn again. That damn birthmark. You dropped the pencil and scratched at it, trying to beat the annoying feeling at its own game. You cursed the mark, but your eyes didn’t leave the sky, and you noticed your heart swelling in your chest, faint despair in the pits of it, churning around like the middle of the deep sea.

You shook your head and put your pencil in your hand again, brain not even having to work hard at all to see the features of the faceless person who was in your every dream.

Even before she ever met you, Wanda didn’t sleep well. She would toss and turn for at least an hour before she finally found some temporary, flimsy form of peace. Her sleep was always light and she hardly ever had dreams, which was customary for a woman like her at the time- an un-blossomed witch.

It was hard for her to remember the time where she didn’t have magic, but that time certainly existed. It lasted nearly thirty years. She never aged a day past twenty one, time moving past her without a care in the world. She was stuck right there, no magic except for the little bit in her bones that was keeping her young. And then she met you.

You were the person that kicked her magic into gear. You were her kindred soul, her other half and the power to her magic. Meeting you had flung her right into the world of magic and spells, things that she only watched others do, but even as she was introduced to an entirely different world, she could remember only really wanting you. Her heart and soul called to you far louder and stronger than spells called to her eager mind. When she met you, it all fell into place. It was an easy love, one that was never going to be disputed or questioned, and loved it. She was prepared to move heaven, earth, and the gods for you, if she had to. Your arrival into her life had caused her to finally blossom.

But now, she had bloomed and flourished and wilted all the same, and she was just waiting to decompose.

“Have hope,” was all that Bucky, a warlock who had been tortured enough in his own way, would tell her. “Have hope that something good will come to you, and it will.”

She never had the heart to tell him that good things hardly came to those who waited. He himself was a product of waiting, and it had served him well. Before he met his other half, he was taken by a rival clan and experimented on with spells that were so far past illegal that they made the casual witch shudder. Eventually, he was broken out and the rival clan was defeated, but he returned to them as an empty shell of a man. But then, Steve came, and then the man was nothing but a ball of light. His magic grew to be strong and so did Steve’s, and together they became known as some of the strongest practitioners of magic in the world.

But what did Wanda have to hope for when you were gone? What did she have to wake up for and smile at when she knew that she had buried you hundreds of years ago? It wasn’t even about the magic. She couldn’t care less about the way she felt the energy leave her- and it was dramatic- leaving in a singular burst of light the second you left. She only knew that you were gone, and that was the only thing that mattered, and it seemed to be the only thing that she even really felt.

Well, she did feel one other thing. Exhaustion. Exhaustion caused by the lack of you by her side. And exhaustion was exactly why she assumed that she was hallucinating when she felt a small tug at her heart, in a part of her brain that had been dormant for years and years. She shook her head and tried to take her thoughts away from you and the nagging feeling in her gut.

“Oh, no…” you exclaimed, voice tapering out into a whine as you watched the ruined paper sink deeper and deeper into the fountain, a fist clenching at your side in disappointment when you realized how many hours were lost, just like that, and then even tighter when you realized that part of you wasn’t even truly upset about the time spent on the ruined art. You were mostly upset that you lost the only vision of the hands that you had during the daytime.

You were on your knees, sleeves still all the way down as you reached into the water frantically, causing the paper to move even further away. You weren’t even worried about your sketchbook that had fallen open onto the pavement, more focused on the rapidly deteriorating piece of paper. You hardly even noticed the man who knocked into you talking, trying his hardest to make the situation better. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, is there anything I can do?”

“I mean,” you breathed out, taking the nearly disintegrated paper from the water and grimacing. When you realized that the man was fumbling to say something from behind you, celery apprehensive over the fact that you were upset, you took a short breath and turned around, giving him a small smile. He had dark brown hair that was cut short and crystal blue eyes that were striking, but you knew that they held thousands of stories by looking just once. He was holding your sketchbook, and by the way he was gripping it tightly, you could tell that he had flipped through it for a second. “It’s just a drawing. I guess I can make another one.”

His eyes widened. You saw his jaw slacken and his neck stretch out, as if he couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He blinked three times, and his parted lips trembled for a second before he slammed them shut. You cocked a brow at him, your sadness about losing the drawing being replaced by a weak feeling of uneasiness. “Sir?”

“Knew it.” His face was clear from any type of emotion as he watched yours, and when you opened your mouth to ask him if he was okay, a grin spread across his face. “I’m Bucky, what’s your name?” You furrowed your brows at him, asking what the hell had just occurred without saying a single word. “I’m sorry, you just looked really familiar.”

Just like that, you smiled. You knew that feeling, you felt like you got deja vu far too often to be normal. You hated when people made you feel strange for it, you always had, so you tried your best to ignore it with him. “You’re fine, don’t worry. I’m Y/N.” You extended your dry hand for him to shake it. He stared at it for a moment, and then with an eagerness that made you smile, he shook your hand.

“‘I’m Bucky.”

For a moment, you could have sworn that you had done more tha just seen him before. Could have sworn that you had shaken his hand, met him before, been at the receiving end of his blinding yet somewhat shy smile. It flashed through you warm and bright, and you cleared your throat before pulling your hand away and realizing you had held it for too long. You cleared it again when you saw something flash in his eyes, a weak smile lifting on your lips.

“It’s not her.”

Wanda was furious. She was insulted more than anything, really, angry that Bucky could even mistake the light of you for someone else. She knew that you would never grace the earth with your presence again, and she was so used to the fact that she was going to have to die before seeing you again. And for one of her closest friends to try to convince her that you were back?

“She would have already found me.” And Wanda believed that with her whole heart. You had asked her so long ago that you remember her, like she could ever forget. Your scent was so flowery that whenever she walked past a growing garden that she smelled you, your smile was so bright that she saw it in the way the rays of sun came down on the earth. She heard your laugh in the chirping of the birds every morning, and she saw your playfulness in the running waters of the stream by the cabin. She could never forget you, because everything was traced back to you. And you would never return without finding her.

“I don’t think she even knows it yet, but she is looking for you.” Bucky insisted, stepping forward and receiving Wanda’s burning glare while Steve stepped to the side and let it happen. “I bumped into her and she dropped her sketchbook. I saw her drawings- she drew your eyes.”

Wanda’s heart skipped a beat. “What?”

“She dropped the drawing of hands in the water, but I saw she had drawn eyes that looked just like yours, hair the same shade as yours, even drawn the necklace you used to wear. She draws roses, too. I swear to everything above, it’s her.”

She could feel herself getting warm, the sort of emotions stirring inside of her that had the potential to turn into a singular weapon. The thought of a rose bush made her sick to her stomach. “It’s not her.”

“You forget that I knew her, too,” Bucky stated, and Wanda’s desolation was replaced by some ancient feeling of possessiveness. “I could never forget her face, and that was it right there. That was her face, without a shadow of a doubt, And her voice-”

Wanda’s face curled into a snarl. “Stop talking about her.”

“Hey, Wanda, take a deep breath,” Steve cut in, ever the mediator, but Bucky was hardheaded. If he thought something needed to happen, he was the one to push for it to happen, and he needed her to see.

“She looks the same as she did the day she left.” Wanda let out a choked noise. For a second, all she could picture was her lover dying by the blooming rose bushes in the sunset, ruining two of the most beautiful things in life at once. The third (but first) was you, but not even your horrible death could taint Wanda’s memory of you. You would forever be the brightest and most beautiful thing to grace the earth. “I got her number, we’re meeting at a coffee shop a few blocks away.”

“Leave her alone.” Wanda said through gritted teeth, tears welling up in her eyes. When she saw the brunet’s eyes widen and his mouth drop open, she spoke before he could get a word in. “Just stay away from her, Bucky.”

All she could think about was your death. The way you choked on your own blood. The way you cried and looked up at her, but still managed to smile. And as she was consumed by rage and memories, the only other thought in her mind was that she was yours and you were here, and that she couldn’t save you then. But she was surely going to preserve your memory from Bucky’s mouth.

“I know you feel it coming back. You haven’t felt it in so long, but it’s warm, right? It’s powerful. You always were the strongest, and you’re not dormant any longer. Stop lying to yourself and depriving yourself of love, Wanda. You know Y/N-”

She saw red. Red as red as the fires that burned in the magma underneath the ground, as red as embers in a fire. “You don’t get to say her name.” She saw so much red, so much hot anger that hardly covered her sadness, that she didn’t even see the way that she had her hand out red coming from her palm as she lifted Bucky right off of the wooden floor of their shared home. “You don’t get to talk about her.” There was a warbling noise in her ears, whispers that sounded like her name, getting louder and louder until she finally realized it was Steve trying to get her attention.

“Wanda.”

Instantly, she dropped her arm and watched Bucky fall to the ground, landing in a crouched position. She watched him catch his breath on the ground. She opened her mouth to apologize, to say that she felt terrible and that she had no idea what happened, what took over her, but she was stopped by the brilliant smile that came onto Bucky’s face.

“You used magic.” He said, slowly and steadily, not a hint of hesitance or animosity in his eyes or voice. Instead, he seemed more proud than anything. “You can’t deny this now, Wanda.”

She was hyperventilating, the pain in her chest intensifying as she tried without any results to get the right amount of air in her lungs. She felt her knees hit the ground before she knew that she did, her hands covering her face as she sobbed into herself. Her heart ached, tugging in so many different directions as her brain fought to rationalize what everything meant. She had used magic, and that meant that you were back, in one way or another. She was in disbelief. She was in despair. She was in shock.

“I know you do, I know you do,” It was Steve’s arms around her, and Steve’s voice in her ear, and she realized that she had been saying I miss her, I miss her, over and over again until the words jumbled. “We know you do, Wanda. We miss her too.”

But he didn’t understand. He hadn’t lost Bucky since he had found him. He hadn’t walked the earth for centuries after losing the only thing that mattered to him as an empty shell of the person he used to be. He would never understand, but that wasn’t his fault. In fact, she prayed that he would never understand.

“I’m sorry I approached you like that,” Bucky said, crouching down and hugging her just as Steve was, enclosing her into a hugging circle. They were coven, related by magic, and just being around them made her tears subside. “But you know that I would have never said anything like that unless I was one thousand percent sure. I would never do anything to hurt you, Wanda. All I want is for you to be happy. And I know that I found her.”

And how could he want anything but the best for her? He knew her just as much as Steve did. Just as much as she probably knew herself. He and Steve were the ones who stormed the coven that took you from her by her side, and they were the ones that helped her send them to their graves. They supported her through thick and thin, through revenge and peace, and mostly, they loved you almost as much as she did. Why would Bucky lie?

Wanda blinked, staring down at her hands in fear and wonder as her heart beat started to get away from her. Steve’s warm hand landed on her shoulder, and she flinched from the sudden touch after such a rush of power.

“I think you should go with him, Wanda.” Her heavy breathing was all that filled the air for a moment. “Just take a look at her from outside so you can leave if he was wrong without anyone knowing, but you should at least try. I think Buck’s right.”

Wanda’s breaths were still labored. Her hands trembled as she moved hair from her eyes, and her lip quivered before she found the strength to mutter a few words. “Will she- will she remember?”

“I think she will,” Steve said softly. “But she’s probably just a human. It may take more than just seeing you for her to remember everything.”

Her eyes were wet with tears, and her heart was so big with warmth and need that she was scared that it would burst open at the seams. But she was even more terrified to lose the idea of you. Slowly and shakily, she nodded, her head bobbing up and down as she sealed her own fate. “I’ll go.” She saw Steve give her his fatherly and supportive smile, small yet full. “I’ll see her.”

You didn’t know how you were gently swindled into giving Bucky your number. You knew that it was nothing but friendly, but he was so charming that you felt like you could never not know him. In fact, it felt like you already did know him. He said something about maybe commissioning an artwork of yours, and of course that excited you. You were going to meet him at a coffee shop, in a public place even though you weren’t the slightest bit afraid of him. But something felt different.

It started once you got into your car. You were driving to get to the shop when tingles came down your spine, and bumps raised on your arms, like someone was whispering against your skin. You started to feel warmth come and go in waves, brushing against your mind and then retreating again. You shook off all of the strong feelings as you turned your car off, parked in front of the coffee shop while the music from your speakers filled the silence, soft piano music that was perfect for the weather.

It was drizzling, the kind of weather that you liked to call a “lover’s drizzle” because of how often it was seen in romantic scenes. Scenes of confession, of reunion, of desperation between two lovers- more often than not, they had the mild rain to stand in. You turned the music down before shutting your car off and then stepping out, closing the door and locking it immediately before walking briskly to the entrance of the coffee shop with your recent drawings in hand.

Bucky wasn’t there when you arrived. In fact, hardly anyone was there besides the few employees, who smiled at you when you entered but otherwise fell back into conversation amongst themselves, which was fine with you. There was one beefy blonde man who was sitting with a laptop and a ball cap on. He glanced up for a moment and then took a double take, blinking hard at you with a star struck look on his face, and then he shot his gaze back down and went back to typing.

You sat down at a table for two, the only type of table that was there besides the long, awkward study tables that they had set up in the center of the room. You would much rather take the intimate setting of a two-seater than to sit in the middle of the shop, so you did just that. You flipped through your work, looking at it closely now that you had the time. He had mentioned something about possible portrait work for a friend of his, so you naturally brought most of the drawings that you had done with hands, arms, eyes, hair, nearly everything that was the closest to your heart. You rested your palm on top of them and watched your fingers trace the slender ones that you had drawn in what felt like by memory at the time, like you were just remembering the way an old friend’s hands used to look. You peeled that one back and looked into the eyes, the strangest and prettiest light green color that made your heart pound every time you looked at it. You took a deep breath in.

“That’s gorgeous.” You jumped in your seat as the chair in front of you pulled out from under the table, and there was the charming brunet that you had met by the fountain, giving you the same welcoming smile that he first granted you. You smiled back without hesitation, your heart warming at the sight. “You sure can draw.”

“I try,” you joked, your grin nearly splitting your face. “Do you drink coffee?”

“Nah,” he said, shrugging his shoulders. “But I like tea, though.” You gave him a thoughtful look.

“Are you into herbal healing?”

You could have sworn that there was some sort of excitement in his eyes, but you weren’t sure enough by the time he opened his mouth again. “Yes, actually! What, does it look like I’m into it?”

“No,” you answered, and it was true. Bucky was huge. He had the kind of build that intimidated other guys at the gym, the kind that made athletes jealous. He looked like the typical meathead, but he was sweeter than you could have imagined. But he looked nothing like a man who would be into herbal healing. “Just a guess.”

“Pretty good guess,” he mused, and you grinned back. Your head was in the clouds of some strange deja vu when he asked you if you wanted something, and the entire exchange of whether or not you were going to pay was on the back burner as you sifted through your thoughts. By the time he came back, you noticed that you must have told him that you liked hot chocolate, and that he must have paid. You scolded him before he sat back down, waving you off. It was silent for a few moments as you looked out of the window, the rain still steadily working through the atmosphere. The cup was comfortingly warm.

“Can I ask you something?”

With any other man, you would have immediately told him no, or at least have your guard up. But there was just something deep down, so buried that it was faint, but it was there, that told you that he was nowhere even close to being a threat. “Yes.”

He nodded, taking a sip of his tea and then putting his cup down gently before giving you an intense look. “Who’s the girl?”

You frowned. “What girl?”

He raised a singular brow. “The one you draw.”

Your breath hitched in your throat. You blinked twice, and then tilted your head to the side. “I don’t draw just one person,” you said slowly, the lie dragging its way out of your mouth and through your teeth. “They’re different people.”

“Oh,” he said, but the smirk on his face told you that he knew you were lying to him and to yourself. You sipped your drink and something tugged at you, telling you to look out of the window and into the rain again, just one more time before you spilled your guts about seeing things- and then something caught your eye. A flash of a familiar reddish-brown. You turned your full body to look that way, and once you did, you nearly dropped your cup.

There was a woman staring back at you, eyes wide and full of so much emotion that the artist in you wanted to rush to make an unworthy attempt at capturing it. Her lips were parted in pure shock, but you were watching them tremble even from far away. She was getting slightly damp in the rain, but she stood there like it didn’t even matter, just locking eyes with you and sending your heart rate through the roof. When your eyes finally came back to hers after looking at her for what felt like the quickest eternity, you gasped. You knew those eyes.

If you weren’t so deep into gazing at the woman stuck behind the glass, you would have noticed the pleased and content look on Bucky’s face, and the look that he gave the big blond sitting with a ball cap on all by himself. You would have noticed the way that the blond man was turning his body towards your table, watching with the same amount of anticipation as Bucky was. You tried to understand why she looked so familiar, why she was scratching the part of your brain that always tried to convince you that you were much older than twenty something- and then it hit you.

You had been drawing this woman. And you had been thinking about her ever since you knew how to think. It was just the first time you were ever seeing the full picture. “I-” you muttered, eyes stuck on her and the way she looked like she was about to topple over from emotions. The words got stuck in your own throat as you weakly tried to get your mind to take you back to the conversation. “I- excuse me. I have to- I’ll be back- excuse me.” Your chair made a loud noise as you stood from the table in a haste, pushing the door open and walking towards the woman who was still standing on the sidewalk, dumbstruck.

Before you even knew you were outside and into the rain, you were standing not even four steps away from the woman, who was now looking at you with an incomprehensible look on her face. You couldn’t even feel the rain on you. All you could feel was her gaze and the warmth that was settling in your stomach and chest, and the same intense familiarity that was hitting you when you looked at Bucky. But it was so much stronger.

“I-” you frowned, taking a step closer and resisting the urge to reach out and touch her. “Do I know you? Have we met?” You had to have met. You had seen her in your sleep, in your daydreams, in your sketchbook. And still, you never could have imagined how beautiful she was.

She was silent.

“I know this is random and that I just bum rushed you, but, did we go to school together or something?” You were embarrassed. You had never begged someone to remember you before, but this woman was different. She hadn’t said a word to you, and you didn’t even know her name, but you were enraptured. You swore you knew her. You swore you saw her eyes glaze over for a second.

“You really don’t remember, do you?” Her voice struck something familiar in your chest, something warm and comforting. It was so familiar, so far back in your memory that it felt like home. Her accent, her inflection, the way she spoke slowly yet deliberately. It was all there in your mind, but you just couldn’t figure out how you knew it so well. “You don’t remember who I am?”

That had you closing your mouth. You tilted your head to the side at what could have been a hostile question, but her tone made it sad. Did you forget a high school friend? “Oh, um, I know you from somewhere, but I can’t really-”

“Think.” The desperation in her voice made your knees shake. If she were anyone else, you would have told her to go away, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want her to go away. But you couldn’t quite place her either, even though your own heart was screaming at you to remember.

“I’m sorry,” you said, a hurt expression on your face. You braved yourself to leave, taking a deep breath and giving her a weak smile that embarrassed you even further. “This was weird of me. I’ll just-”

She was reaching for you. Time started to run slower as her pale arm extended towards you, long fingers that you had committed to memory and to paper a thousand times outstretched. Your mouth dropped open ever so slightly as you stood in place for a second, body still until you subconsciously leaned forward, your nerves buzzing under your skin.

For a second, the only thing you could do was look at the point where her skin touched yours.

You had seen magic before. You had seen it in movies and at theme parks and when miracles happened, but nothing ever like when her skin touched yours. You swore that the warmth that your body had been feeling kicked in even stronger, surrounding you in comfort. Her hand was wrapped around your arm, gentle yet begging, firm yet wishing all the same for something you couldn’t quite see yet. You looked up and into her eyes, the eyes you had drawn and seen so many times, and then you saw it.

You saw it in more than flashes. They were coming in at the speed of light, but somehow you were able to catch every moment and every feeling that came along. You heard her voice as clear as day, ringing with laughter. You saw the two of you attempting to skip stones. You saw her enchanting your stones behind your back to make you think you had actually done it. You saw her mouth brushing over your cheeks, your mouth, your forehead. You could feel her hands on you, holding you, protecting you, cherishing you all the same. You could remember the way that you felt when you saw her standing in traditional witch’s clothing, being inducted into her coven as a blossomed witch. You saw everything and nothing, and you remembered it all.

Wanda.

A strangled sound escaped your body, so feral that it scared you, but you didn’t care. You pulled her forward, your head clashing against her chest. You could feel her shaking, like she wanted nothing more than to hold you just as tightly, but she was hesitating. “Wanda,” you called out, hugging her tighter, and then, like something in the universe stretched too far and then snapped right back into place, she was returning the embrace.

“I thought I had lost you forever,” she said, her voice hollow yet so full, so expressive. “I lost you, darling.”

The memories were all there, like all it took was a touch, but you were still coping with the knowledge. You had been murdered. Murdered by witch hunters, way back when witches were known and feared. That had to have been hundreds of years ago, you knew it. But still, your focus was on Wanda. It always would be on Wanda, forever and always. Just like hers was on you.

“You didn’t,” you managed to say, your own voice thick with emotion as you buried your face into her neck, finally feeling the texture of the hair that you tried so hard to get right. “I’m right here. I’m not going anywhere ever again.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, suddenly sobbing in your arms. You had no idea how you weren’t being interrupted in the crowded streets, but when you took a look back inside of the cafe to see the men who you so clearly remembered as Steve and Bucky, you knew it had something to do with them and their fulfilled smiles. “I wasn’t able to save you. I let you die, and I’m so sorry, darling. I’m so sorry.”

Her words brought you back to the present. “Wanda, no. No, no, no.” You wanted to pull away and look at her face, but the second you started to, she held onto you even tighter. You leaned your head back onto her chest. “It wasn’t your fault. There was no way any of us could have known, and no way that you could have saved me. It was beyond us.”

“Nothing should have ever been beyond us.” She argued softly. “I’m so sorry.”

“But it was,” you said. “And now it’s behind us. Don’t apologize, Wanda.” You wiggled around and got free enough to look up at her teary face. “I may not have recognized you, but now that I do, I can’t believe that I ever forgot you.”

“A new life will do that to you.”

“Is it really a new life if I remember everything?” You said softly, the rain long gone as you stood with each other, bodies nearly molded together with how close you were.

She pulled away to look down at you, her eyes and overall expression tense, and then there was a look that you recognized from a long time ago. It was a look of sweet desire. You closed the cap between the two of you, pressing your lips to hers in a way that proved that you were both two lost souls who had wandered their way back to their other halves.

“It can be whatever you want it to be, darling.” Her lips brushed your again, soft and tender and eager for more touch. “As long as you let me be in it.”

#wanda x fem!reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #my fics #witch!wanda #marvel au #witch!au #scarlet witch #wanda x reader #wanda maximoff #no idea what to tag this-#wanda x you #lgbt marvel #lgbt

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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

Note

Prompt: Instead of shattering Dad Nie's saber to kill his pride, he shatters Baxia - and thus Nie Mingjue. What better way to punish a man who dared to think anything of his could rival Wen Ruohan? Only, Nie Mingjue survives... and Baxia does too. Of course, sharing Nie Mingjue's body, neither of them is quite the same...

Curse-breaker (Chapter 1/4)

- ao3 -

"I see," Wen Ruohan said, his teeth slightly gritted, his irritation plain and obvious for all to see. "Indeed, I must concede that Sect Leader Nie's saber is finer than the one I own; it is undeniable. Lao Nie, your saber."

He offered it back, plainclothes-wrapped hilt first.

"You do my sect honor," Sect Leader Nie said with a wide grin, accepting the saber. "Our sabers are indeed the finest – and more than that, they get better with each generation. To tell you the truth, my friend: this one isn't mine, but my son's!"

He revealed the hilt, not anything like his own, and laughed, delighted by the joke he had played.

Wen Ruohan’s face contorted, growing pale in what everyone assumed was rage.

It was only later that Lao Nie, at least, recognized that it had been horror.

Nie Mingjue was screaming, and had not stopped screaming.

His throat was rent all to pieces, his fingers bloody from clawing at his own flesh, his eyes rolling around in his head as if by some inescapable fit -

"It's a qi deviation," one of the elders said. "Induced by the breaking of his saber. We should take him to the tombs."

"Fuck off," Lao Nie told them, as if saying the words would deny the truth. "He's too young!"

He put himself between them and his son.

"You shouldn't have let him take up the saber so young," the elder persisted, as if it had been Nie Mingjue’s fault that his son’s saber had been shattered by a man a century older than him, and all because of a dispute that had nothing to do with him. "You shouldn't have shown it to others, left it unguarded -"

"Do you think I don't know that?!" Lao Nie roared, abruptly pushed beyond his limits. "Do you think that I don't already regret...!"

He regretted. Oh, how he regretted!

He had not regretted a single thing in his life since the day his father had told him that he would one day die, and how. Even back then, he had swallowed down the regret without choking on it: he had accepted it, understood it, and resolved to live the life he had left to him to the utmost. What good, he had reasoned, would regret do? Would it win him a single additional day of life? Would it wring out a single ounce of additional joy from the days he did have?

There was no point in regret.

Whether that was the right decision or not, he didn’t know, but it was the one he made, and he stuck with it.

His whole life, Lao Nie had been reckless and carefree even by the already low standards of his family. He was always indulging in familiar pleasures and searching for new experiences, doing whatever he could to excite a palate already starting to grow jaded. He broke hearts as easily as he won them, and had what even he admitted was the worst taste in partners imaginable, attracted as he was to danger and death as if to an old and much-beloved friend. He laughed at the idea of risk or consequences, taking care only for his sect, which he loved; everything else was negotiable, or so he'd thought. He'd scared the wits out of most of his family time and time again, and - perhaps as recompense - had grown his first grey hair dozens of years too early. To this day, he still didn't know whether the reason everyone called him Lao Nie so often that even he thought of himself that way was because they were genuinely fond of him, because of the premature black-and-white mix of his hair, or perhaps just as some unspoken prayer that he finally get over himself and grow up.

If it was the last, it hadn’t worked. Even as he’d gotten older, he hadn’t changed one bit.

The only thing that had changed was that he’d finally found something he loved more than his sect.

He loved his children.

He loved his children, whether the righteous and too-serious Mingjue with his secret penchant for tears or the flippant and carefree Huaisang who was lazier than a slug in the sun. He loved them and he, unlike his father before him, did not burden them over-early with knowledge that would only be an itch under their skin that slowly drove them mad.

He loved them.

And now one of them was dying – because of him.

"You should take him to the tombs," the elder said, and ignored the crash of the chair Lao Nie threw at their head. "You let him become a man of our sect, Lao Nie. Do him the honor of letting him die as one.”

“You…!”

“Or do you think you are being kind, leaving him like this?"

Lao Nie looked down at his son, his Mingjue, the baby he’d held in his arms and the toddler he’d taught to walk and the child he’d chased and the teenager he’d taught the saber. His boy, who was thrashing wildly on the bed, spitting up foam along with blood and weeping uncontrollably.

"A-die," Nie Mingjue whimpered, just as he had when he'd been younger and caught in the throes of fever or breaking a bone through his own misadventures. Tears streamed endlessly down his eyes, his brave little boy who was not-so-secretly a bit of a crybaby. "A-die, a-die, it hurts..."

Lao Nie closed his eyes in pain.

He regretted.

But it was too late now to regret.

"We'll take him to the tombs," he finally conceded, and for the first time in his life he truly felt old. "Just let me say goodbye."

If you go to the tombs, you will not come out.

Nie Mingjue might only be a child, thirteen or fourteen years old – he couldn’t remember clearly any longer which it was – but he had been a good student before that, reading faithfully through his sect’s histories and listening to his teachers. He knew enough to read between the lines, to reckon the subtle indications and the not-so-subtle hints: he knew, even before he’d been officially told, what it was that he faced down at the end of the road that his ancestors had built for him to walk.

The early death – the painful death – the silent tombs –

There had been so many whispers when he’d taken up his Baxia too early. How could he not know?

His father hadn’t wanted him to know, though. So he hadn’t said anything, and pretended he didn’t.

(Huaisang could be ignorant for real, he’d thought to himself. It’d be okay if he didn’t know.)

If you go to the tombs, you will not come out. You cannot go to the tombs!

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes.

He no longer screamed, even though the spiritual energy that had once felt rich and nourishing and strong now felt like corrosive acid scouring his veins, burning him from the inside out – it wasn’t that he didn’t want to, wasn’t still compelled too; it was only that he had screamed too much, wearing out his voice down to nothingness from overuse.

If I go to the tombs, I will not come out, he thought, dimly aware that something wasn’t right. Thinking was hard, and grew ever harder: the qi deviation, for that was what it was, was worsening, not getting better.

Would not ever get better.

His Baxia, his loyal saber filled to the brim with resentful energy, had shattered. Shattered, and now all that resentful energy that she had collected for herself had flooded back into him, drowning his brain in rage and madness.

Flooding him with – Baxia.

I cannot go to the tombs.

You cannot go to the tombs, Baxia agreed – at least, he thought it was Baxia. It might be himself: he could no longer tell the difference.

She’d shattered, and he’d shattered, too. His mind and his body and his meridians and his golden core: everything was in pieces. His spiritual energy was running the wrong way, twisting him up inside, hurting instead of helping – the rage and resentful energy wasn’t going into Baxia but coming back into him, and it was poison.

There was no fixing it. His ancestors had tried everything they could: brought in the finest physicians with their needles and their clever ideas, sought out mysterious techniques and strange geniuses that played games even with their golden cores, even tried out demonic cultivation to see if it would help – with their lives and their children’s lives at stake, was there anything they wouldn’t do?

As if it would be that easy.

As if the road to death taken time and time again over the generations could be so easily evaded.

Nie Mingjue was a Nie. He had had a qi deviation. He was going to die.

But he was young, too.

Too young.

They all said that’d he formed his core at an extraordinary young age, and he had, too, verifiable evidence of his unusual genius for cultivating – only a golden core formed too early wasn’t quite the same as one done in the usual way at the usual time. It’d formed all right, all the spiritual liquid flowing through his meridians condensing into a shining solid sphere in his dantian, but it was still a little gummy in comparison to the normal ones. It had to be. He’d formed the core before he’d reached adolescence, without any of the necessary hormones running through his body; if his golden core was as fully solid as most adults, he’d be stuck at the age and size he was at when the core was first formed.

Normally, all this meant was that his foundation would be a little unstable for the first few years, just until he got old enough, and only when he was finally at his proper age would it truly settle into place along with his body, growing firm and solid and far more powerful than all the rest.

But he’d never gotten the chance to grow that old.

Nie Mingjue’s core had cracked when his saber that had been fundamentally tied to it had shattered, but unlike the steel of the saber it was still more fluid than solid. Even as the corrosive resentful energy burned him, even as the spiritual energy rioted within him, his old instincts were still there, that subconscious genius for cultivating already at work, trying to force the spiritual energy to run through him, trying to put those broken pieces back together. For any normal Nie, the greater his talent, the faster he’d be driven mad, but for Nie Mingjue, those gummy pieces of his core, sticky and still fluid, were instead being soldered together using spiritual energy and resentful energy both, and unlike the stiff and brittle solidity of the golden core of adulthood, they were still flexible enough to stick together – to coalesce into a whole once more.

Only –

Nie Mingjue opened his eyes.

He’d already opened them once, and now he opened them again. The world as he had always recognized it, he saw through his left eye – but through his right, there was a whole new world.

It was a world of black and white, of good and evil, a world of kinetic movement, of steel and rage incarnate…the world through the perception of a saber spirit. A saber spirit who had shattered when her steel was shattered, shattered when her master’s core was shattered, and whose pieces were even now integrating interchangeably with her master’s pieces into a single indissoluble whole.

If we go to the tombs, they thought, and now that was it, that was right, we will not come out.

Well, that was simple enough to fix.

They just wouldn’t go to the tombs.

“What do you mean, he’s gone?” Nie Huaisang’s father hissed. “He can’t be – he wasn’t in any state – he couldn’t have just gotten up and run away – no, stop, let’s go. I don’t want Huaisang hearing.”

Nie Huaisang hated it when his father remembered to be discreet around him.

His da-ge was never discreet, he thought, pouting. If anything, that was something his father often complained about, even if he would be chuckling all the while: that Nie Mingjue had all the tact of a lady boar in full charge, riled up in defense of her children, and with about as much care for anything that did not meet his stringent expectations of justice and fairness – which was rather a lot.

Where was his da-ge, anyway? Nie Huaisang hadn’t seen him in days, not since he went out on that night hunt with their father. He’d asked his nurse about it, because it was unusual for his brother not to come play with him once he’d returned, and she’d said that he’d gotten sick and couldn’t come to see him just yet. But surely it was long enough that he’d be better already!

Nothing could keep his big brother down for long.

Decided, Nie Huaisang hopped up and headed outside, planning to go find his brother. His brother would explain what was going on, simplifying things down until even a little kid like him could get it, and he wouldn’t make Nie Huaisang feel stupid for needing that simplification.

His brother thought Nie Huaisang was smart.

Nie Huaisang walked along the railing next to his window, teetering back and forth with his hands outstretched for balance – his brother had showed him this pathway long ago, telling him that he could use it when he wanted to sneak out go play or look at birds, or even just come to find him whenever he had nightmares.

His brother wasn’t in his rooms, though.

Nie Huaisang sighed. Maybe he was in the study, or the training field, or something like that, but if Nie Huaisang tried to go there, he’d be dragged into lessons or training as well, and he didn’t want that.

He decided to go look at birds instead.

His brother had come up with a secret path to the outside that only they knew, the two of them, one that led them all the way out into the forest where the really interesting birds were. It was close enough to home that it was still safe, still within the bounds of the Unclean Realm’s protective arrays, but far enough to feel unburdened by the presence of their elders.

Nie Huaisang went to look at birds, but it wasn’t birds he found.

“…who’s there?” he asked, seeing movement in the bushes – something too large to be a bird, too small to be a bear, too two-legged to be a boar or a dog. Whoever it was, they were breathing hard, as if they’d run too far, interspersed with little whines of pain, like they were hurt. “Who are…”

The figure in the bush moved forward.

“…da-ge?”

Nie Huaisang’s big brother didn’t look right. He was crouched down, carrying his body low as if he were trying to support himself and protect his middle at the same time, his fingers digging into the ground for balance – his lips were peeled back from his teeth in something caught between a grimace and a growl. His left eye was normal, but his right was horribly red, shot through with pulsing veins that seemed to bleed into the iris, the color of which had faded from warm golden brown to something more like a slate or steel grey.

He sounded like he was in pain.

His brother was in pain.

Nie Huaisang took a step towards him, deeply concerned, and Nie Mingjue backed away.

“Da-ge,” Nie Huaisang whispered, terrified. “Da-ge, it’s me, it’s Huaisang – I won’t hurt you!”

Nie Mingjue whined, a sound deep in the back of his throat, but this time, when Nie Huaisang stepped forward, he didn’t run. He waited until Nie Huaisang was close before darting forward and nuzzling Nie Huaisang’s hand with his cheek, ducking his head down and letting him touch his hair as if he were a dog.

His brother wasn’t just sick, Nie Huaisang realized. He was reallysick.

“What happened?” he asked, and his brother just looked sad. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”

His brother nodded. A short jerking motion, barely recognizable, and yet – a nod.

“…do you have to?”

Another nod.

Nie Huaisang’s lip quivered. “Will you be all right?”

His brother nuzzled his palm again. It wasn’t an answer.

Nie Huaisang took a deep breath. “I won’t tell anyone.”

His brother seemed almost to smile.

And then he was gone.

Walking all the way back inside before bursting into tears was the hardest thing Nie Huaisang had ever done in his life, but the worst part was knowing that this was only the beginning.

#mdzs #nie mingjue #sect leader nie #nie huaisang #wen ruohan #my fic #my fics #curse-breaker

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papipopsicle · 3 years

Text

SHY AWAY PART ONE

Pairing: Bucky Banes X Reader

Summary: In which an imitation Captain America leads to Y/N leaving her holiday early and coming back to the field. Stuck between her only two friends, she's forced to reveal a secret she'd kept even from herself.

Song: Centuries by Fall Out Boy

Warnings: none unless John Walker counts

Words: 1.2 K

MASTERLIST

feedback is always appreciated

The evening had been such a lovely one up until an unscheduled press conference cut off Brooklyn Nine Nine half way through an episode. Y/N had once again turned up on Bucky's doorstep, no longer unannounced but instead with an invite from the super soldier. Two months ago he'd asked for her phone number abashedly, calling her every couple of nights since then.

Before 'the blip' the two had been fairly friendly- Y/N visited Wakanda between her missions, sometimes with Steve but often alone. She kept him updated with world news, brought books for them to read together and he would retell each memory uncovered by whatever Shuri was doing to his mind. Some were of the thirties and forties, adolescence and entering the Second World War. Others were of missions in which his body was no longer in his ownership anymore.

"Did you know Steve Rogers?" The TV personality asked, sat atop her tall chair with a large microphone pointed at a nobody named John Walker. Though now he would never have the luxury of counting as a nobody again.

Y/N twisted her head away from the screen, carefully observing Bucky's near unreadable expression of fury and betrayal. The blonde Captain wannabe began spouting nonsense about the two's best friend, words that sounded fancy and heartfelt with a warm smile, but his entire person felt like ice in Y/N's eyes.

"Even though I never met him, he feels like a brother." John's already insufferable voice called across the undecorated apartment. The female agent leant across Bucky, grabbing the remote and switching off the television before more drivel about their dead friend spilled from his mouth.

The super soldiers jaw clenched, unclenched then clenched once more. If it wasn't for Y/N's tentative touch to his bicep, the the now switched off screen would have a fist shaped hole through it, as well as the wall behind it. Instead, a couple of tears escaped and Y/N used the sleeve of her sweater to wipe them away silently, allowing Bucky to curl into her.

His body shook gently for a man of his size, and even in his disturbed state, he was careful not to cause her any discomfort. Bucky felt a kiss reach for the side of his temple, "His suit was even worse than the one Coulson designed for Stevie in New York."

Y/N squeezed her friend's right shoulder, running her calloused hand through his short hair. It took forty five minutes for his body to stop the small tremors; short, fast breaths levelling out into soft exhalations. James hadn't ever been able to make sense of the messy emotions within him, his therapist was court mandated and only cared about him becoming a stable non-violent citizen. Sam tried his best, spilling out all the advice he'd given vets at the VA years ago, but it was nothing new.

The assassin holding him was the only one who really tried to understand. Forced him to see she truly wanted to help and understand, not out of curiosity or malice. Because Steve had helped her accept herself as human, and he deserved the same.

"Where are you going?" Steve screamed for the third time, pulling his blood soaked friend into his freshly showered hold and crisp muscle tee. Rain coated the outskirts of Manhattan with fury, the icy cool pellets of November skies feeling dull against her numb skin.

Y/N's chin was tilted upwards, her apathetic eyes meeting the super soldiers righteous ones. They landed from a mission half an hour ago, and while Steve washed away the dirt and debris, his best friend was about to start her next as Friday alerted her to a missing young girl.

"Duty calls, Cap." She raised an eyebrow in defence, only drawing attention to her bloodshot corneas and deep purple under eyes.

He rolled his own in response, directing her back towards the compound before her mind could even register what was going on, "Post mission cool down, honey. You're no help to anyone if you aren't functioning fully."

Steve put this protocol in place specifically for Y/N. It was the only way to get her to look after herself and process the mission effectively. Before him, she had no coping mechanisms, and before the protocol she refused his pleas.

"She needs help, Stevie." Y/N pouted as her body was lightly pushed through the front door.

"And someone who didn't just annihilate a Neo Hydra base will help her, you know that." His voice was firm but soothing to the ex assassin, who was still being guided down in the direction of her room, "Want me to help you? I could get Nat if you like, she's-"

"Please." She looked over her shoulder timidly, the distant facade broken away instantaneously. Steve silently agreed. He started the shower giving it time to warm up. Y/N stripped herself of her armour and weapons first, then the tactical suit, and her friend helped her out of her underwear.

He gave her time to sit down in the shower, her eyes averted from the large mirrors. Taking the shower head from its hook, washing away the matted blood and mud. His movements were careful and loving, the entire exchange innocent and devoid of any romance or lust.

Steve washed her unmoving body until the water ran clean and she was ready to stand. He hugged her body into a plush white towel, squeezing the warmed fabric against her clean skin.

Y/N held Bucky through the whole night, slumped against the wooden floor with a frayed blanket curled under her head. Her neck ached as she made breakfast the next morning, but for her, it was worthwhile to know her friend had slept through the dark hours without stirring.

"Where do you think Wilson is right now?" Bucky's muffled voice called out, swallowing the hash brown with a large gulp of black coffee.

Y/N stopped herself from rolling her eyes at the question, knowing exactly what the super soldier’s plans were simply by the irritation in his tone, “I know where he is, Buck. But you know, if you go after him, I’ll be coming after both of you. And we’re all going to get dragged into something together sooner or later.”

“Yeah well, it was bound to happen. Just can’t seem to stay away from the fight.” Bucky raised his eyebrows in defeat. He wanted to be himself so badly, wanted Y/N to be human and go on coffee dates with friends, explore the world outside the perimeters of a mission, to sleep soundly at night.

But for now, neither of them felt completely human. The idea of focusing on the next mission felt easier than fixing themselves.

PART TWO

wanna be tagged? just send in an ask

#fanfic #fanfiction #Bucky barnes #Bucky #imagine #fluff #angst #Bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes masterlist #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky barnes imagine #james bucky barnes #fatws bucky #james buchanan barnes #Bucky imagine #Bucky barnes x reader

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connorandersons-blog · 3 years

Note

Oooh…how about…

Connor/Markus in the key of Angst No. 10:

“How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?”

So this ended up longer than I meant it to be, but honestly I’m loving it. I’m so sorry to those that love Simon (I do too but I needed someone to be the “bad guy” ish) And don’t worry it has a happy ending! Enjoy!

_________

Markus was… stunning. That was an understatement of the century, but Connor didn’t have the right words to say just how magnificent the man was. Everything he did was truly wonderful, and Connor just loves to watch him.

The way his eyes fluttered underneath his lids as he kept his eyes closed while he painted, his hand holding the brush like it was an extension of himself. He bared his soul with each painting and whenever he’d play the piano. His fingers are always so sure of themselves, never missing a key or pressing the wrong note.

Connor loved to watch him as he spoke to people whether it be to the millions around the world or just someone who needed a friend. Both were always so thoughtful, and Markus puts his full attention into it.

Even when Markus was just sitting and reading, he did it perfectly. Connor was addicted to watching his hand as it flipped the delicate page to reveal the new words for Markus to soak in. The way his face would change as he read, from surprise to annoyance, to absolute joy. He was always so very expressive.

Connor adored him, saw how inspiring he was to others, to Connor too, and knew whoever could call him a friend or even lover would be incredibly lucky. It’s why he was so very shocked when Markus confessed his love for Connor.

The first thing Connor had said was why? Why him out of everyone he could choose from? Markus's answer had made him gasp in understanding. He had said ’it wasn’t a choice, but if I could I wouldn’t change a thing.’

After that, it was just… perfect. Markus was the perfect lover, so caring and understanding, he was incredibly patient and adoring. When they made love, it was mind-blowing and left both sated and exhausted. Connor clung to him after those moments, knowing it was just for him. He could cuddle against him, Markus’s hand on the small of his back as his fingers danced over his skin slightly. It made Connor shiver and press closer, smiling against Markus’s skin as he kissed wherever he could.

He never really let himself worry because Markus would never do anything to hurt him, not when they loved each other. Sometimes those thoughts would creep up, but then Markus would turn to smile at him, or their hands would brush together and it would all be ok.

Markus and he ended up living together, and it gave them more time together than before. It was absolutely wonderful, those moments together that he wanted more and more of. He wanted to spend his entire existence with him and now he was finally going to ask.

Marriage had been a low priority given everything else they needed to cover. It had taken years until they pushed for marriage, but now it was official. Androids could marry whoever they wanted, human or android.

Most people would expect Markus to be the one to propose, but Connor had wanted to. Markus was always initiating and now it was Connor’s turn. He held the banquet of red roses in one hand, the velvet box in his pocket feeling incredibly heavy.

He could do this; they’ve been together for so long and it was the next logical step. He just really hoped Markus would say yes.

He knew Markus didn’t have a meeting, it was lunch break for everyone in the building and Markus took this time to relax some. Everything should be perfect, but when he opened the door, it absolutely was not.

There was Markus, standing in front of his desk, but Connor couldn’t really see him because Simon was in front, and Connor knew what was happening. It felt like his life stopped, everything turning ice-cold frozen around him as his eyes widened.

He couldn’t breathe, everything was stuck, not even the tears seemed to be able to break free to run down his cheeks. He should have known; they were always so close, but Connor had trusted them. Simon was their friend, had encouraged them to get together, and seemed happy for them.

He dropped the flowers and ran, not knowing where he was going but he just… he just had to go. He had to disappear.

He heard someone calling his name, probably Markus but he wouldn’t stop. How could he?! Why would Markus do this, why would Simon? Why did he let himself believe he deserved anything different?

He could barely even see, and he let out a scream as arms wrapped around his middle and pulled him back. He flailed his arms and legs as his chest hit something warm and solid.

“Connor! It wasn’t what it looked like! Please, please just let me speak.” Markus said, his breath coming out fast against Connor’s neck.

“No!” He wouldn’t let Markus talk; he knew how well he could talk people into things and Connor knew what he saw. “Fuck off,” he snarled. He wouldn’t hurt Markus no matter how much Markus was hurting him, no matter how much he wanted him to feel that pain.

Markus held tighter and thankfully didn’t try to kiss over Connor’s neck like he usually did when he’d hold him from behind. “No, Connor. I’m not going to let you go until you agree to listen.”

Connor grit his teeth, the tears hot on his cheeks. “How was I such an idiot, to believe that you, out of all people, could ever love me?” He should have known better. It was all a lie, a very well-constructed one, he’d give him that. All those times Markus said leading kept him busy, was he really with Simon?

“I do, I love you more than anything. I didn’t kiss him, he kissed me.” Markus squeezed him tighter against his chest and Connor almost wanted to elbow him to be let go.

More than anything he wanted to believe him, but it was just so hard. “Fine. Talk.” He wished he didn’t love Markus so much, if he didn’t then he would never agree to listen.

Markus let out a sigh, loosening his grip but not letting go. “Simon came in and asked to talk. I had no reason to deny him, and so I said yes. He told me that he’s in love with me and then he kissed me. He had said he just wanted it once and I tried to deny him, I don’t want him, but he kissed me anyway. I pushed him off right after, but you walked in right as he did it.”

Connor panted; his vision still blurry but now from the tears that he couldn’t stop. He hated how much it made sense, but it was hard to believe Simon would do that. Why would he kiss Markus when he had said no? Maybe it was just a kiss to do it once and then move on. He hoped that was it, but it hurt so much to have seen.

“I can interface, I’ll show you if you don’t believe me. But Connor, I love you, I’d never cheat.” Markus lets him go fully and Connor staggers forward. He wraps his arms around himself, turning slowly to see Markus staring at him with tears streaked down his face too. He held out his hand, the skin having receded.

Connor hugged himself even tighter, staring at the offered hand. All those times he interfaced with Markus there was never one lie. He didn’t think androids could change memories with an interface but what if he did?

He reached out and clasped their hands together feeling that connection form between them that became so natural for them. The memories fill his mind, and he is so used to this that he doesn’t stop his own memories from flowing to Markus.

He watched as it played out just as Markus said, and he felt the devastation and pure panic that washed over him as he watched Connor run off. He felt everything and then he was back in his own mind, the interface cut off. He was… telling the truth?

“You were… you were coming to propose to me?” Markus whispered, staring at Connor with wide eyes. Oh, shit.

His hand went down to his pocket where the box still was. “I was.” It was hard to tell what his emotions were, all of them were so overwhelming and confusing.

Markus chokes back a sob, covering his mouth with his hand. “Darling, shit. I’m, I'm so sorry, I promise you I’d never do anything to hurt you. I’m so in love with you.”

He pulls the box out, rubbing his fingers against the black velvet. “I know that you do, I’m still just, I don’t know. This went all wrong.”

“I know, I know and I’m sorry. If you still wanted to ask, and you don’t have to, but if you asked, I’d say yes.”

Connor sucked in a breath, gaping at the words. Markus would say yes, he’d marry Connor if he asked. “I, I don’t know, but do you want to see it?”

“Yes! I’d love to, I’m sure it’s gorgeous.”

Connor held out the box, opening it carefully. The ring was simple walnut wood, a small inlaid line around the middle of glittering diamond flakes. He thought it was very pretty and would suit Markus well… if he accepted. If he had proposed.

Markus smiled so bright that Connor almost felt the need to look away. “It’s perfect. I’d be honored to wear it but I understand if you don’t want to anymore. I’ll wait forever for you, I’ll do anything, but if… if you don’t even want to be with me that’s ok too. I’ll respect whatever you decide.”

He would, Connor knew he would. That was just the way Markus was, so giving and loving. He’d agree to whatever Connor decided on without making it a huge mess. It’s part of why he loves him so much. Why he still wants to marry him.

“Yes,” he breathes out and he watches Markus’s face crumple before he realized what that sounded like. “Yes, I still want to marry you.”

Markus’s face quickly shifts to pure joy as he reaches forward and yanks him into a crushing hug. He almost drops the ring at the suddenness, but he wraps his arms around him too.

They are both crying now but no longer from sadness, instead it’s exciting and filled with so much happiness neither can contain it.

They pull back and Connor pulls the ring out of the box and slides it onto Markus’s awaiting finger. It looks perfect there and then they are kissing, pushing all their love through the interface they started without realizing. It’s not how Connor thought it would go but still, it happened, and Connor couldn’t ask for anything more.

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flameohotwife · 3 years

Note

Okay, #41 for the fluff prompt!! (I feel so powerful, hahaha!)

41. "Darling, I love you and all but please step out of the kitchen."

This turned... long! And sad-ish in parts, so I'm sorry! Maybe more hurt/comfort? But there is still fluff. I hope you enjoy!

Rated T. 2.2k words.

“Aang? Have you seen the dumpling pan?” Katara was crouched down, head and shoulders deep in the cupboard, looking for the right pan to crisp the dumplings she was planning on making for dinner. Her husband was flitting about, albeit slower than he once could, on the other side of the kitchen with what she assumed were fruit pie ingredients for dessert. The original Team Avatar were travelling to Air Temple Island from all over the world in a few hours to celebrate the 50th anniversary of the war ending, and their 50th anniversary together. They always tried to get together the week they’d met in Ba Sing Se at the Jasmine Dragon to remember what they’d lost, and to see how far they’d come. Though Aang and Katara hadn’t gotten married until several years after the war, they always counted that day on the balcony as their anniversary, as the only thing that had truly changed with their marriage was the world’s recognition of their relationship and its permanence. They were devoted and dedicated from the very beginning. Perhaps even before that.

“Oh, I’ve got it over here, Sweetie,” Aang called back to her. She jumped up, almost bashing her head on the top of the cupboard before wriggling properly out to stand and face him. Even in his old age he still maintained a certain twinkle in his eye when he was up to something, and Katara’s hands flew to her hips when she saw it.

“What are you doing with my dumpling pan?” she asked, warily.

“I thought I’d cook tonight,” Aang replied, though his hand rubbed the tattoo on the back of his neck tellingly. “I wanted to add some Air Nomad dishes to the menu. Sokka will be bringing some Water Tribe food already, Toph and Suki will have Earth Kingdom, and Zuko and Mai will bring Fire Nation… I just thought I’d add something of my own in.”

Katara’s throat caught for a moment, as it always did when she remembered. His loss always felt bigger on anniversaries, though his grief was an ever-present emotion. It rose and fell like the tides, but was always there, under the surface. Most people saw his smiling face and kind, loving spirit and forgot that there were only two airbenders in the world and why. That Aang had actually known and loved so many of the ones Sozin had murdered. He masked his pain well, but took that mask off around Katara from time to time, when he needed to.

“Sweetie,” she began, stepping forward to grasp his wrinkled hands. “Oh Aang, I was going to make Air Nomad food, too. I would never leave you out like that.” Her tone wasn’t defensive, only calm and reassuring, as she rubbed gentle circles on the blue arrows that adorned the backs of his hands with her thumbs. She wanted to remind him with her touch that his grief didn’t have to be his alone to bear. That she would remember his people with him. Just as she had taught their children old Air Nomad fairytales when they were small, and celebrated their holidays with him, and learned to cook their food. Katara was Water Tribe through and through, but her soul was bound to an Air Nomad. Moreover, she was bound to Aang, and she always felt his loss. Even when he hid it well.

Aang melted into her, then. A hug that was so deeply meaningful it was reminiscent of the one they’d shared on Iroh’s balcony, but with all the weight of his pain crushing down on them along with that promise of love and acceptance. It was as though through this hug she was able to share that weight with him, so she held him tighter. Half a century after learning about the deaths of his people, sometimes the wound still felt fresh, and Katara was always the healing balm to whatever ailed him, even when she knew she could never heal it completely.

Katara stroked his back lovingly with one arm as he clung to her. She waited for his breathing to even out, for his muscles to relax. Waited for a sign that she had taken enough of his grief that he could function again. Finally, he moved his head to kiss her sweetly. It was wet, and salty, but his movements were lighter again. She moved her hands to his face, wiping his tears as she pulled him closer, and he deepened the kiss, wrapping his arms fully around her waist and pressing against her.

“Thank you,” he whispered. He knew his grief was never hers to bear, and yet she did so willingly and with so much love. He could never thank her enough for the way she cared for him when he hit his lowest points. He wasn’t sure he could have made it without her. Sometimes the weight on his shoulders was so heavy he felt like he would sink without her unending love and support buoying him up, keeping him afloat.

“You’re not alone, Sweetie. Never.” Katara continued to caress his face as she looked into his sparkling, sad eyes.”Do you want me to help? I can make the dumplings and the butter tea. I never quite mastered the tofu but I could try if you want…”

Aang silenced her with another kiss. “You’re wonderful,” he said, pressing his lips to hers again. “The best wife, partner, and friend in existence.” Yet another kiss. “I think I’ve got it from here. Why don’t you take a break before everyone gets here?”

Katara laughed, not quite knowing what to do with herself. She reluctantly removed her hands from her husband and settled on making herself some tea and sitting at the kitchen table to observe him. Even though he was aging, Katara still enjoyed watching him when she had a moment, whether it was bending practice, or working hard on something, or even something as simple as cooking. She still appreciated the lithe way his body moved, the smooth, airy motions he made, the way his tongue stuck out when he was concentrating…

She sat back in her chair, grinning over her teacup as she watched him chop vegetables and boil water and roll dough. Sometimes observing him do the most trivial things—like cooking dinner for friends, or braiding their daughter’s hair when she was small, or working in the garden—reminded her how lucky she was to have him in her life. He was the Avatar after all. He could have maids and cooks and servants and never lift a domestic finger in his life, but that was never in Aang’s nature. And he could have chosen anyone as his companion, but he had always and only ever chosen her. Over and over. It was somehow both humbling and assuring all at once.

After some time, she rose from her seat, walking behind him to wrap her arms around him, reveling in his warmth. She couldn’t see the smile on Aang’s face, but she knew it was there when he pressed one arm over her interlocking ones, squeezing lightly with his hand.

She leaned up to press a light kiss to the back of his neck.

“You’re awfully distracting, you know,” Aang chided. He turned in her arms to peck her on the nose. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten to watch you cook. I forgot how much I enjoy it.” She gave him a very pointed look and he laughed heartily.

“Well, by all means, enjoy the show,” he said, wiggling his hips for her benefit as he extricated himself from her grip to keep working. Katara giggled. She was about to return to her seat when she noticed the clutter Aang was leaving in the kitchen as he worked, and decided to help him by tackling some of that so he could focus on the food.

When Katara cooked, she was very methodical. Every ingredient, pot, pan, and chopstick had its place, and was immediately returned to that place when she had finished with it. She knew if she didn’t keep up with the mess as she worked, it would pile up to the point that she would feel overwhelmed at the end, so she tidied continually. Aang, on the other hand, was much more impulsive in his cooking. He would think of an ingredient to add mid-stir, and leave the remnants on the counter, never quite sure if he might want to add more later. He would wait to clean up all the messes at once.

There was a time in their marriage where this had driven Katara crazy. The kids were still very young at the time, and the extra mess on top of the cacophony of kid-sounds and clutter and Momo swooping around the house would become too much, so she would constantly buzz around him, taking things and washing and putting them away before he was even finished with them. He would turn around for more of an ingredient and find it wrapped up in the icebox. More than once, he had had to take Katara by the shoulders, kiss her gently, and exclaim, “Darling, I love you and all, but please step out of the kitchen.”

Now, much like in other parts of their relationship, she had learned which parts of the mess to let be, and which ones she could handle that would actually help him. She sat up with him at night while he transcribed ancient Air Nomad texts and histories; her presence a comfort as he worked through it all and felt the loss more keenly. Tenzin joined him now, of course, when he was home, but Aang still felt more able to work through his grief when she stayed too. When they were younger, she had sewn Air Nomad clothes for Aang and for the acolytes, and eventually taught the acolytes to make them herself not because Aang couldn’t sew or teach them, but because it was one of the things that they both could do. Something that she could take off of his already over-heaped plate.

They balanced each other. He was her rock on full-moon nights or when she missed her parents or when her emotional storm was raging. He was her center of calm when she was worried about the kids or about the world. But today, Aang needed her. So she washed the used dishes for him to use again if needed, and cleared the wrappings for him, being sure to leave the ingredients on the counter. She made sure to give him gentle touches as they worked; a hand to the small of his back as she passed him, a bump of the hip as they worked side by side. Loving smiles and stolen kisses as the afternoon sun fell lower in the sky.

Eventually their friends would arrive and they would be able to laugh and joke and remember together. There would be group hugs and arm-punches and happy sounds and smells would fill their home as they reminisced. Through all of it, Aang would sneak looks across the table at Katara, with a special smile reserved for her. Fifty years! They’d made it fifty years together, in no small part because of everything they had learned through their struggles as they grew together. Because of the weights and grief they shared with one another instead of bearing them alone.

“I may be old, Twinkletoes, but I can still feel your heartbeat when you look at Sugarqueen like that,” Toph jabbed as Aang snuck another glance at his wife. “How can you two be together for fifty years and still act as disgusting as when we were teenagers? I’m not going to have to pull you out of a linen closet at the official event tomorrow, am I? Because we are all too old for that.”

Knowing that she still sent his heart a-flutter the way he did to her warmed Katara’s old bones from head to toe, and she sent a look of her own towards her husband. Aang’s face reddened.

“Oh, no,” groaned Sokka. “Oogies! I’m out.” He rose from the table, pulling Suki along with him. “Dinner was great guys, and I’d like to keep it in my stomach, thanks. So, we’ll see you all in the morning when the kids get here?”

“Sounds good,” replied Zuko as he and Mai rose to join them. “We should probably turn in anyway. It’s getting late.” Aang and Katara stood as well to accompany their guests to the door before everyone went their separate ways.

“Thanks for a wonderful evening as always, guys,” Suki added as she hugged them both goodbye. “Try not to wear yourselves out too much tonight, hmm? It’s not as easy to recover as it used to be and we have a busy day tomorrow.”

Katara feigned shock at her sister-in-law’s tease but Aang only blushed further as Sokka faked retching and promptly exited with their friends. Aang was always so open about his emotions and intentions when it came to Katara, whether or not he intended to be. She simply smirked back up at him and took him by the hand, waving to everyone one last time before pulling him back to their bedroom. And, maybe they were a little extra tired the next day, but it was worth it. Loving each other through the many ups and downs of a lifetime together would always be worth it. Even when Toph berated them for it outside a linen closet door.

#kataang #kataang fanfiction #kataangtag #fluff prompts #katara #aang #atla #sweeties #slightly hurt/comfort #sorry!#adcurtis #asks

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beccanoodles · 3 years

Text

Spike and Faye Pairing Analysis

March 2021

Ah the hit or miss pairing of the century! If you don’t love it, you probably hate it lol. I’m a very analytical person so I love analyzing works of art and overall enjoy deep discussions about them too. I have SO much to say when it comes to Cowboy Bebop (and oh I plan to), but I have decided to start with my very own OTP. Here, I am not really going to discuss Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other, but rather why I think people are drawn to this pairing and why I think they're totally valid. Get ready for a long read!😁

⚠️SPOILER WARNING!!! [Major Cowboy Bebop and the movie Out of the Past spoilers]⚠️

First off, let’s clear something up. I am confident most of us can agree that Spike was in love with Julia. Some people assume Spike and Faye fans are deranged and disregard Spike and Julia’s romantic relationship to try and make something of Spike and Faye that never was. While some people may have their various theories and opinions on this, generally, I don’t think anyone denies Spike’s love for Julia. As we will see, this pairing is not really driven by who loves who...let’s first look on the surface.

I don’t know your experiences with the series, but in mine, every time I show this to people it never fails for someone to say something along the lines of,

“Wait, they don’t end up together?”

“Why didn’t he kiss her!?”

“He should have stayed with her...”

and so fourth.

Naturally, this pairing catches many eyes.

Think about it, you are given two really cool, really hot and really deep characters that are really fun to see together! There are so many parallels between the two and they are arguably the strongest characters of the bunch. Granted, you can agree with this and still not ship them, but these aspects are part of what opens up the door for many fans of the pairing.

However, there is certainly more to this pairing than them simply looking good together right? As the years pass and I’ve now seen the show multiple times, my understanding of it has evolved in many areas, Spike and Faye included.

Spike and Faye really couldn’t have ended up together. Sure, it’s a nice thought, but It would have been an entirely different show if they had. I don’t feel that the show should have happened any other way and I don’t think many other fans would either.

So, what am I saying here?

What’s the point of this paring if I don’t think they should have ended up together?

It is what's so frustrating about them, yet keeps you coming back and what honestly validates this pairing in my opinion. Spike and Faye are not driven by what is, but rather, what could be.

I personally feel the themes of classic film Noir are not discussed enough when it comes to Cowboy Bebop! This is one of the show's major influences, especially when it comes to the plot and characters.

One of the common tropes of a film noir is that of a protagonist who is drawn back into his past and ultimate doom, usually by the “seduction” of a femme fatale. In these movies, the women are either a femme fatale [devious, dangerous, mysterious, greedy, troubled, or unreliable] or a woman of virtue [reliable, dutiful, trustworthy, conventional and loving].

I am going to use the 1947 classic, Out of the Past to make my comparisons from here on out.

In Out of the Past, Jeff is a former detective who gets caught up in a love triangle between a gangster and his girlfriend Kathie, sound familiar? He attempts to run away with her, but is betrayed and runs off to start a new life in a new town. Here, he meets Ann and falls in love with her, but of course, his past catches up to him and he is drawn back into the world of criminals (largely by Kathie’s involvement). This ultimately results in his and Kathie’s deaths and Ann’s heartbreak.

Even though Kathie is the femme fatale in this movie, I found myself comparing her more to Julia’s role in the show, than to Faye’s and I found that Faye actually fit best in Ann’s role (this is a bit unusual considering Faye is typically seen as the femme fatale of this show).

Does that mean I think Julia was as ill intentioned as Kathie or that Spike fell in love with Faye? Well, not exactly, let’s look at it a bit further.

“The kind of beautiful, dangerous ordinary that you just can’t leave alone...Like an angel from the underworld or a devil from paradise.”

Most of what we get about Julia is from Spike’s point of view. From this, we learn she is at the center of Vicious and Spike’s conflict, but aside from that she is basically depicted as “The Virtuous Woman” of a noir. The colors around her are warm and she is shown caring for Spike. There is an innocence and modestly about her as well.

Yet, when we finally do meet Julia, we get a different image. We know she is tied up with dangerous men, but is she herself a dangerous woman?

She is certainly capable of betrayal.

Suddenly she is a bad-ass-gun-toting woman in leather and black, surrounded by hues of grey and dark blue. Intentional or not, Julia is a major part of what lures Spike back into the past and ultimately to his death. In this case, Julia is the femme fatale of Spike’s story and thus, their relationship is doomed from the start.

Faye, on the other hand, is portrayed in somewhat of a contrast. When we first meet her, she is the clear cut femme fatale, appearing cunning, strong willed and seductive. However, we soon find that she has quite a bit of kindness and naivety hidden behind her facade. She uses the former tactics as a way of emotional (and probably physical) protection. Gren points this out in his conversation with her.

Gren,

“You’re just afraid they’d abandon you so you abandoned them. You distanced yourself from the whole thing.”

As the show progresses, we start to see less of her “femme fatale nature” and something more genuine. Think about it, between Hard Luck Woman and RFB Part 2 we don’t see much of Faye as her typical conniving or unreliable self, aside from changing the course of the Bebop maybe. Sure she takes off, but it isn’t at all for the same reasons she did in Jupiter Jazz or Speak Like a Child, for example.

I would argue we actually see her more trustworthy and caring than ever. Since I don’t want to spend too much time talking about Faye’s character development (not here at least) I’ll give one example of this.

When she returns to the Bebop after her encounter with Julia in RFB Part 1, she gives Spike the message, even though the outcome might hurt her (i.e. he leaves and/or dies). While she does first say “It’s gonna cost you,” she doesn’t really mean it because she tells him without hesitation only moments later.

This isn’t to say Faye good, Julia bad. Both women have their layers and even though we know way more about Faye, I don’t get the impression that Julia is selfish and cunning like Kathie was. But I do get the feeling she was enclosed in a world of crime and betrayal the way Kathie was. We really only know the basics of Spike and Julia’s situation. Who knows the details like motive or how long it lasted etc. etc. We can only speculate...

There is a scene towards the end of Out Of The Past, where Kathie tells Jeff to go away with her. This time it is her asking him, just like Julia asks Spike. During this she mentions,

“I never told you I was anything but what I am, you just wanted to imagine I was. That’s why I left you.”

This got me thinking...did Spike imagine Julia as something she wasn’t? Or something he wanted her to be that she just couldn’t be?

It could explain why we get such contrasted images of her.

There are themes of this “dreamlike” relationship between Jeff and Kathie, similar to Spike and Julia’s “It was all a dream.”

The two of them were going to “live and be free,” probably something neither of them knew how to do and most likely wouldn’t have been able to get away with.

When Jet asks Spike if he can just forget the past, this is his answer.

Spike,

“There was a woman. For the first time in my life I saw a woman that was truly alive. At least that’s what I thought. She was the part of me I had lost, that part that was missing, that I had been longing for.”

I always wondered about this, because Spike is clearly talking about Julia, but right after is when Faye shows up. To me, that spoke volumes...

Faye is a woman who is terribly human and terribly alive.

Going back to Faye and Ann, I find their similarities shine not so much in the “Virtuous Woman,” concept, but rather in Ann’s dedication to Jeff and her optimism for the future. She is also the last person to talk to Jeff before he leaves for the final time, as if he were being presented with one last alternative. Spike spends his last moments with Faye as well, in which she basically begs him not to go and keep him in the present that she has now discovered for herself. She may be stuck, but she is definitely someone that yearns for human connection, love, and life.

The problem is, Spike and Faye are both set in opposite directions. Her’s leads to a future and Spike knows this because he points it out early on (My Funny Valentine). He also knows, his most likely does not. He has already dug himself too deep into this hole, if you will, that there is really no turning back.

But let’s say none of that was an issue? What could be?

I sat and watched this movie (Out of the Past) with my mom. She didn’t know anything about it and didn’t know why I was watching it. I wanted her genuine reaction. The whole time she was getting mad at Jeff until the very end. I asked her why and she said that she wanted him to be able to live happily with Ann. I explained to her why he had to do what he did. She understood this, but still couldn’t help but be sad at how things turned out for him, when they could have been good.

Even though Kathie and Jeff are the “lovers,” of this movie, you don’t really want them to end up together. Forget that Kathie has a devious nature, regardless, you know where it has to end and you don’t want to see your hero die.

Like Kathie, Julia symbolizes Spike’s inevitable doom and Like Ann, Faye symbolizes his possible future.

“I’ll be with you till the end”

“You’re the one still tied to the past Spike!”

“Why do you have to go? Where are you going? What are you gonna do, just throw your life away like it was nothing?!”

It’s two sides of a sad coin...

We want Spike to have a future and because we love the characters of the show, it would be really great if he could have it with them, but that is where the tragedy is. It's only an idea we can think about, a possibility presented to us as it was to Jeff and Spike before their deaths.

The bottom line is, when it comes to Spike and Faye you are really only given a taste. You are not given what you expect to see, which is why I say this ship is driven by what could be. As it is with most of the character relationships in the show, no major breakthroughs are made until the very end, when it's too late. Then it just feels like such wasted potential, but sometimes in life, that's how it is. And thus, we have been given a very classic noir here ladies and gentlemen!

So no, I don’t think people miss the mark when they ship Spike and Faye, nor do I find they invalidate the show by any means. I kind of like that Watanabe switched it up and didn’t do the expected, but left us those subtle hints. He didn’t outright give Spike another lover, but he gave us someone that represents what he could have. Kind of does that with the crew as a whole too!

UGH. I love-hate this show and I love this pairing! Thank you for reading my thoughts and I know this may not be the case or reasoning for everyone, but just based on what I have seen around the community and where this show draws inspiration, this is what I have concluded. I didn’t get into Spike and Faye’s feelings for each other because it gets a little more theoretical there, but I would like to do a post on my thoughts on that as well sometime. I also didn’t touch too much on Spike’s reasoning for choosing to face Vicious in the end, just because I know that will only lead into a whole other analysis lol. But you know I have my thoughts on that and certainly plan to share them 😎 Also, I know I basically spoiled it, but Out of the Past is such a great movie!! I think if you’re a fan of this show it's definitely worth a watch! There are so many more parallels to Cowboy Bebop that I didn’t even mention. Anyways, thanks again and talk to you soon!

#Cowboy Bebop #Spike and Faye #spike x faye #analysis #cowboy bebop analysis #pairing analysis #pairing #my ship #out of the past #film noir #did i mention #I LOVE THIS SHOW #YES i've been working on this for two weeks like i was writing a midterm essay for school #DON'T JUDGE ME 🤓😂#OOTP is really good watch it #last scene gives me chills😨#spaye #faye x spike #faye and spike

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jenomark · 3 years

Text

Part 6: WinWin, The Catch

➔Pairing: WinWin x Reader (Female) ➔Other Members/ Characters: Lucas, Ten, Hendery, Xiaojun, Kun, & YangYang ➔Genre: Smut (+ angst, + fluff, + plot) ➔Warnings: angst, mentions of sex, yelling, cursing ➔Word count: 6,455

➔Summary: You don’t know what you do. You don’t even know who you are. Some would call you a whore. Some would refer to you as a sex worker. All of your clients would say you’re damn good at your job.

MASTERLIST

FOUR MONTHS LATER

Life is a whirlwind of many things: emotions, disappointment, new beginnings, and things too complicated to understand. It’s years of fuck-ups, of getting lost in the shit that hurts you, and finding out that sometimes the truth should stay buried. We’re meant to live life like it’s the last one we have, but a lot of us can’t even choose what to eat for dinner. Maybe that’s the joy in living, in just being. Maybe we should all be proud of being fuck-ups, instead of trying to be something we’re not.

“I don’t think life can get any sweeter than this.” WinWin said.

You tapped your glass against his, the frozen, pineapple liquid spilling down the sides. The taste of the drink is refreshing and so sweet it makes your teeth hurt, but you don’t care. You’re sitting on the beach in a plastic chair, the sun dipping into the ocean, and the company of a man you enjoy right next to you. Life, through its ups and downs, was finally looking up.

“I don’t want to go home.” you said. “Do you think people at work even miss me?”

WinWin laughed quietly, just a little wind through his nose. “I would miss you.”

“I bet you would.”

Since coming to the island for the past week, you and WinWin left the hotel room many times. You went snorkeling, exploring different parts of the culture, ate gourmet dinners, and got massages by professionals who avoided your sunburnt shoulders. On the days when you couldn’t seem to make it out of the door, you both fucked on the beautiful white linen bed, sometimes with the sliding door open, and every time without any inhibition.

“I miss you every day.” he said. He leaned over to kiss you, the taste of the drink on the edge of his lips.

When he brought out his phone to text his family back home, you let your eyes gape openly at his body. He was so pretty on the eyes, every muscle put to good use. You didn’t regret the order of the way things happened to fall together, just that you hadn’t met him sooner. It seemed lifetimes ago that you were hitting him up for one last bang of the century. You smiled at the memory, letting it salivate in your mind until he was done texting.

“Is everything okay?” you asked.

WinWin took your hand, which was something he did whenever he was feeling affectionate. You liked the attention, the way he put his phone down and focused on answering your question. “My family are asking what time our flight home is tomorrow. And if I’ll stop by on the way back to my house.”

“Did you tell them yes?” you asked. “I miss your mother. She’s just the face I feel I need to see.”

“You don’t know how happy that makes me feel.”

He leaned over and kissed you again. There was a cheeky look in his eyes, as if asking how easy it would be for you to straddle him on the beach chair and take his cock right there. Neither of you were sex fiends during your regular life back home, but vacation time meant making time for your relationship.

Luckily for the public, you were both interrupted by the waiter asking if you’d like a bite to eat. After declining, you both gathered up your things and practically ran back to the hotel for a night of fun and pleasure.

It wasn’t love, exactly. You would be the first to admit that love was hardly a driving force in your life. At first, though lust was an option, you ruled it out fairly early. Your entrance into WinWin’s life was less about pleasing someone sexually and more about pleasing yourself. You stayed around him because he was different. Deep down, you hoped it wasn’t because he was a culmination of all the boys in your life- Ten and his safety, Hendery and his optimism, Xiaojun and his hunger for life, Kun and his stability, and YangYang’s wholesome friendship. He even had Lucas’ taste for laughter and fun.

For a while, you wanted it to be love. You wanted love at first sight to be a real thing so badly. You saw WinWin, you knew he was the one, and you fucked him real good. You chose to let it be more. Still, months later, you chose to keep the relationship because there was always the possibility that you were both lovable. You could be normal, even get the 9-to-5 job and stop fucking people for money. It could happen for you.

The car ride home from the airport felt a little off. Being away from the ocean made you feel stale. You didn’t know how to face normalcy again, how to ease your way back into a city that held so many awful memories. But WinWin held onto you like he could solve everything, made you feel like you could be the adult you needed all your life.

“We’re here.” WinWin said as the car pulled up to his mother’s house.

She didn’t know her son paid for someone like you, or that he was the last one ever. As far as she knows, he met you out with friends, and the rest was history. She didn’t know about your past, didn’t seem interested in it either. She was the kind of woman that judged no one, that welcomed everyone through her door with a hug and a feast fit for kings. It was far removed from the family you had grown up with.

“You both look sun-kissed and beautiful.” she said, hugging you, and then tugging on the edge of WinWin’s ear. “ Welcome home. I made you a nice home cooked meal. I know it’s not as good as the 5 star food you’ve been eating for the past week.”

“Mom, I’m sure it’s delicious.” WinWin said. “And I am starving.”

“Me too.” you said. “It’s really nice for you to cook for us. I feel so thankful.”

Being with WinWin’s family made you feel safer than you’d ever felt. They truly welcomed you into the fold. It was easy to imagine the rest of your life like this: taking vacations, coming back to meals cooked by a mother who cares, and being lovingly accepted into another family like you were one of their own. Your past could easily melt away, along with any of the bad taste that got stuck in your mouth.

You felt yourself getting misty-eyed. Thankfully, WinWin’s mother didn’t notice. She walked away to tend to her meal, leaving both of you in her living room. Unfortunately for you, WinWin was also an attentive boyfriend. He noticed you were on the verge of tears right away. He wiped them away for you, his brown eyes looking concerned.

“Is everything okay?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, it’s fine. I think I’m just tired and overwhelmed.”

“Do you want to go home?”

“No, no.” you said quickly. “I’m happy to be here.”

The smile WinWin gave you lit up your soul. He brought you in for a hug, his excitement growing in the childish way he had. You held him tightly, too afraid to let go.

No, it wasn’t love, but it wasn’t not love, either.

That night, you made love.

In the beginning of your relationship, all the men before him would pop into your mind. There was the roughness of Lucas, the tenderness of Ten, and the intensity of Hendery. Every so often, you wished WinWin was as good as Xiaojun was at oral. You incorporated the carefree attitude YangYang taught you into your sex life, taking WinWin for a wild spin. You avoided Kun, and every feeling he brought up within you. Every so often, you would dive back into the deep end and meet WinWin, and you would merge all the men together. He would never know, and you’d never ask if he had any inclination.

Something changed a few months in. The sex got better, and you were more present. You were with him for the whole time, pressing down on his chest and riding the high that belonged to only him. You fell hard. You two were good for each other, matched up right in all the best ways. He didn’t need help in any department. He was whole and complete, and he made you feel like a goddess.

“You’re thinking.” WinWin whispered, kissing your forehead.

He pushed his cock deep inside of you, the words out of your mouth coming out breathless. “I’m not.”

“Okay.” he said, giving up before he started.

He fucked you so well that you both forgot about everything. It was only until you were dreaming that everything came rushing back. You dreamed of the men, of the paradise lost, of WinWin’s mother wishing you were her daughter-in-law.

Office jobs on a Monday never once seemed glamorous, but it was all you needed to feel ordinary. You stayed at your desk and watched the screensaver on your desktop fade in and out, like a heartbeat. Cheek resting against the palm of your hand, you sighed. You waited for lunchtime like the rest of the office girls. You didn’t gossip, didn’t show anyone your new nails. Your desk wasn’t decorated, but you were settled in for a while. The company liked you so much that you moved on from being a temp really quickly, which either made people love you or hate you.

“How was vacation?” a colleague asked.

You had become one of those people that shows vacation photos on her phone. There was WinWin laying on the beach, his toned stomach covered in sand. There was a photo of you posing by the sign of a restaurant, your arms thrown around him and your leg popped up. You hardly recognized the girl in the photos, though you’d spent 20+ years in her body.

“I wish I were in your shoes.” she said. “Your boyfriend is dreamy.”

“Thank you.” you said. It was hard to keep the amusement out of your voice. You were used to women fawning over him because he was so handsome, but when it was a married women with five kids, it made you hope you’d never be like that.

“It looked like such a nice little vacay.” she said. “So luxurious. How did you pay for all of that?”

“Savings.” you said.

Though you weren’t doing sex work anymore, the money from your secret apartment felt like it was never ending. You had sold so many things that reminded you of the men you saw over the years, choosing the money and a better life for yourself. It didn’t bother WinWin that you had more money than him, though he wouldn’t let you buy him a damn thing.

“Lucky.” she said before moving back to her desk.

Your eyelids were heavy, and the bottom of your feet sore. You dragged your feet through the doorway of your new, modest apartment, and threw your stuff down on the floor. You didn’t check your phone, just sat down on the couch and let your head fall back. You drifted off to sleep and only woke up to a knock on your front door. Picking yourself up, you walked over, swung it open, and screamed when WinWin picked you up and spun you around.

“What are you doing?” you asked.

He kissed you passionately, letting your body slide down his before he let your feet plant on the floor. You felt breathless, and could tell that your face was hot just from seeing him again. There were days you kind of wanted to share a home with him, to see him every single day. Maybe then you wouldn’t be so taken aback by him every time you saw him in the flesh.

You didn’t fully get a good look at him until he moved away from you and went over to the fridge for a drink. He was wearing a dark blue suit and his hair was slicked back from his forehead. He looked expensive, and the smell trailing behind him reminded you of the vacation you’d just left.

“What are you all dressed up for?” you asked.

“You and I are invited to a party.”

“A..party?” you asked. “On a Monday night? I’m exhausted. I just had my full day of work after a week of beauty and sunshine. Baby, the last thing I want to do is party.”

Then, as if everything suddenly made sense, you remembered that your birthday was in a few days. Your mind was whirring. You didn’t want WinWin wasting money on some nice party when he’d put up more than his share for the vacation.

“Please.” he said, pouting. He took a drink from inside the fridge and set it on the counter. “I wouldn’t go without you.”

“I don’t have anything to wear.”

“I’ve seen your closet. You have plenty of dresses.”

“I won’t know anyone there.”

He shrugged. “I didn’t tell you who was going.”

“I’m running out of excuses, aren’t I?” you asked.

WinWin smiled and came over to hold you. “Yes. I’m not a party animal either, but for some reason, I really want to go to this one. It’s at that nice hotel downtown that was just built. Imagine a night full of cocktails and dancing, coming home and collapsing in my bed. Fun, right?”

You closed your eyes. When you opened them, you said yes. After all, you didn’t want to ruin a possible surprise. WinWin picked you up and spun you again. ‘Round and ‘round in circles you went.

The dress you wore was too tight. You felt so bloated in it that, on the car ride over, you kept fidgeting. WinWin calling you beautiful didn’t help, but the sulking definitely did. Arriving at the party made you so nervous that you forgot about the ill-fitting dress. You weren’t ready to be in front of people you loved, if it was a birthday party. You were stressed about who would attend, and who would not.

“Holy fuck.” you said, looking up at the hotel it was being hosted at.

In another life, it felt like you had been there before. It was much too swanky for your new taste, but there was something so familiar about the exterior that you couldn’t help but stare at it. The cream of the building and the black marble accents were stunning to look at, even more so than your date.

“We’ll stay no longer than two hours.” he said. “Does that sound good?”

You were unsure, but you did agree. He took your hand and led you across the street, the red satin dress you were wearing flying up with the wind. You smoothed your hair down with your free hand and walked through the revolving door with him. Inside, the building was even more gorgeous. It must have cost a pretty penny, and would have taken years to import all of the textures.

“Who invited you here?” you asked. “Someone from work?”

“My cousin.” he said. “ You’ve met him before.”

You were whisked into a ballroom full of people. It was clear that, by the lack of people you knew, it was not a surprise birthday party for you. It made you a little sad, but you tried not to show it.

Being among crowds was never fun for you, but feeling his hand on the small of your back relaxed you. You were thinking you could enjoy the night anyway, but WinWin walking away to fetch drinks made the fear creep up your spine again. You sat down at an empty table and scanned the hoards of people dressed in expensive designer clothes, your eyes raking it all in. You assessed that the reason you were so uncomfortable is because the environment reminded you too much of the life you had four months ago.

“Here.” WinWin said, setting your drink down.

You took a big gulp and set it back down, watching strangely as the condensation from the glass formed a ring on the tablecloth. For a bit, WinWin sat with you and held your hand, his eyes watching people laughing and chatting along.

“I can’t find my cousin. He’s not answering his phone.” he said, not able to peel his eyes from the crowd.

“Should we go look for him?” you asked.

There was a weird tension in the pit of your belly. You pushed the drink away and vowed to not drink anymore. You joined WinWin in looking for his cousin, even though you didn’t know which one he was referring to. His family was big, and they all looked so different from each other, but they all had the same cute laugh and love of ordering things online.

“Let’s dance.” WinWin said, rising to his feet.

You looked at the hand stretched out before you. He was speaking and moving too quickly. You felt like you were being pulled in every direction. The lights of the ballroom chandeliers were too bright, the air too humid. Still, you took his hand and let him bring you to your feet.The heels were killing you, but they were the only shoe that matched the dress.

“Are you okay?” you asked. “You’re acting really weird. “

“Weird?” he asked. “How?”

“I don’t know.”

You wiped sweat from your forehead and felt nauseous as he led you both around the floor. It was the first time you wished you were anywhere but with him. Being at home and sleeping sounded much more exciting than the truth of where you were.

“Can I spin you?” he asked.

Before you could tell him that he couldn't, WinWin spun you around. You held onto his shoulders and caught your breath. He spun you one more time, your body losing slight control, and then he let you go.

All you could see were the lights in a blur before they stopped. You were too aware of the arm that had caught you. You looked down at the floor, at your feet crammed into your heels, then you closed your eyes tightly, and opened them again. You looked up and was met with a chest that didn’t belong to WinWin. Clutching the arms tightly, you used the body to bring yourself up all the way.

“Lucas.” you said, your voice shaky.

Dressed in a white button down and a light blue suit jacket, Lucas was there. His face was a little slimmer, but the same eyes were looking back at you. They were wide and hard, not a lick of concern in them. For a moment, you were transported back in time. It was where you were supposed to be, with the man you thought you were going to marry. You blinked and started looking for WinWin.

“You like him?” Lucas asked.

You removed your hands from Lucas’ arms and he dropped them to his sides the same time you did. You looked into his eyes and tried to muster something to say. The last time you saw him, you couldn’t get the right words out. Your storyline was very much unfinished.

“Does he check all the boxes?” Lucas asked. “Safe. Able to pay. Puts up with your lies and insecurities.”

“What?”

You looked over at the right time to see WinWin moving up to your side. You felt relief. You waited for him to berate Lucas for talking to you that way, a hero to save the day. Instead, he held out his hand to Lucas, as if asking him to dance.

“Four months.” WinWin said to him. “I want extra for having to sleep with her so many times.”

Lucas opened his jacket and took out a wad of bills. He peeled out so many pieces of paper that you lost count of them all. “Here is half. You get the rest of the money in a while.”

WinWin took the bills without counting them and tucked them into his own jacket. He gave you the tiniest apologetic glance before walking away. Confused, you started to walk after him but was stopped by Lucas' big arm.

“What are you doing?” you asked. “I’m following my boyfriend. Let me go.”

“Your boyfriend?” Lucas asked. “Wow, you really bought it. The con artist gets conned.”

Your brain was trying its hardest to make sense of what Lucas was saying. Any minute now, you would wake up from your nap on the couch and you wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a hotel ballroom with your ex-boyfriend. When that didn’t happen, you stormed off across the dance floor, your eyes searching for WinWin. You took out your phone and began texting, but a big paw of a hand snatched the phone from you.

“He won’t text back.” Lucas said.

“Give me that.” you said, swiping at him. “Why are you here? Did you follow us?”

Lucas laughed. “You don’t get it, do you?”

“Get what? You’re a psycho.” you said. “You broke up with me, remember? You left me. Let me live my life. I’m happy.”

Without your phone, you walked outside, through the revolving door and down the rabbit hole. You could hear Lucas’ heavy footsteps behind you. When you were out of earshot, he placed his hand on your shoulder gently and spun you around to face him.

“Give me my phone, or I will call the police.” you said, not enough bravado in your voice.

Lucas handed you the phone, but you yanked it from his hands anyway. There were no messages from WinWin, and nothing of note. You looked for the car you arrived in but it was gone. You swallowed the lump in your dry throat and closed your eyes again.

“Why did you hand him money, and where did he go? What was he talking about?” you asked. It was the question you’d wanted to ask all along but was too afraid to ask. “Please, nothing snarky. Tell me the truth.”

“The truth? Like you told me the truth?” Lucas asked.

“Lucas, please.”

“I don’t owe you anything.”

You were facing him head on, tears rolling down your face. Everything felt too chaotic, too blinding. Your thoughts were swimming in your mind, each one making no sense from the last. If what you believed to be true was true, you needed to know how it all went down.

“I set you up.” he said. “Sicheng, that’s his real name, was never interested in you. I paid him to like you, to fuck you. “

“He was my client.”

“Wrong.” Lucas said. He moved out of the way so that people could pass by. “I paid him to pursue you. It wasn’t easy, I’ll give you that. I had actually given up hope, but then you came right in at the end.”

“You’re lying to me.”

“I’m not.” Lucas chuckled darkly. “I paid him thousands of dollars. I paid for your vacation. I’m thousands in debt, but hey, who cares. I finally did it.”

“Did what?” you asked, wiping a hot tear from your cheek.

“Humiliated you the way you humiliated me.” he said. “Fucking guys for money behind my back? Why couldn’t you just cheat like normal people? Fuck, I wanted to marry you.”

It was quiet, the traffic from the sidewalk dying down. You leaned against the side of the building and felt how truly tired your body was. The fire in Lucas’ eyes calmed down a little bit, too.

“I know.” you said quietly. “I saw the ring.”

“Shit, you really fell for everything.” he said. “I planted that ring. I thought that if you believed I was going to propose, you would catch yourself in the lie. I thought you were smarter than me, but tonight proves that theory. You’re not smart at all. You should have seen your face when you saw the house key. ”

“Why would you do this to me?” you screamed, grabbing the attention of someone waiting in traffic.

“You did this to yourself, sweetheart.”

You turned around and put your arm against the wall, leaning your head down against it. “I don’t understand. WinWin and I are a real couple. I’ve been with his family and his friends. I love him.”

“The family thing wasn’t my idea.” he said. “I had nothing to do with that, but I find it funnier this way. How does it feel being so blind-sided that it’s ruined your life?”

“Fuck you.”

“No.” he said. “Fuck you. Exactly, how many people have you slept with? Did you get tested before you fucked me?”

You walked away, walking down the street to God knows where. You groaned when he kept following you, and you stopped in front of a well-lit display window. In the light, you could see how beat your reflection was. The dress was pretty, but your insides were shining out and they were ugly.

“You thought you could fool me.” Lucas said. “I followed you to some places, you know? Saw all the freaks you were with. That one guy? Hendery? I talked to him, acted like I was a stranger. He was so fucking in love with you that I was jealous. Can you believe that? I was jealous of someone who had you about as much as I did. It’s a real shame what you did to him.”

“Shut up.”

“He thought you would be together forever.” Lucas mocked.

“You don’t know a thing about Hendery.”

“Wrong again.” he said. “I know a lot about men like Hendery. The sad, rejected men that tried to love you. I was one of them.”

You checked your phone again, your last attempt at hope. All you wanted was to see WinWin’s name pop up, to text you that he was bringing the car around, and that he was going to take you away from the crazy man before you.

“If you knew....” you began, feeling dejected. “...why did you let it go on for so long?”

Lucas seemed to really think about the answer. In the light, he looked so handsome and young. You were reminded of the man he was when you first met him. You felt a little pang in your chest where your heart used to be.

“I guess I wanted to see if you would change, if you would love me.”

“I did love you.”

There was hurt and anger in Lucas’ eyes. “Loved me enough to cheat on me?”

“It was just a job.”

“Was I just a job, too?” he asked. “ I knew about the extra apartment. I really meant nothing to you.”

“This conversation is going nowhere.” you said. “I’m sorry I did that to you. I should have been upfront about who I was and what I was doing with my body. I fucked up, and I fucked your life up. And you, in return, fucked me up for the rest of my life.”

“This isn’t my fault. This is your fault.”

“I don’t care whose fault it is, Lucas.” you said. “You and I were done. We never would have lasted.”

“So, you strung me along to make yourself feel better?” he asked.

“No I-”

“-Like you did with Sicheng.” he said. “I’m not an idiot. I know the ins and outs of everything that happened in the last few months. It’s a cycle. The people you fuck keep you feeling better about yourself long enough for you to move on to a new one. I was just the unfortunate asshole getting caught in the middle.”

“I’m not talking about this right now.”

“And there it is, the denial.” he said. “Look at how you turn away from me when I tell you the truth. All those men and not one of them could ever call you out on your bullshit? Where is the love there, huh? Where are any of them now?”

You threw your hands up into the air. “I don’t know. They’re not here, Lucas. You hate me so much, but you’re the only one here. The last man standing. Congratulations, you did it.”

A car pulled up to the curb. You texted a friend for a ride, someone you didn’t know quite well. You didn’t have anyone else. While Lucas was talking, you were figuring out how best to run away from him. The knowledge hit you hardest where it hurts. You didn’t think anything could ever be the same again.

“I have to go.” you said. “I can’t be here anymore.”

“Yeah? Just like that?”

You held the car door open. “Yeah. Just like that, Lucas.”

“And you don’t have anything else to say?” he asked.

“I do, actually.” you said. “To those I’ve fucked and fucked over, I’m sorry.”

THREE YEARS LATER- LUCAS

He stood very still, so still that he could hear the tiny giggling coming from the other room. Lucas smiled to himself and tried to ignore it as best he could. If there was one thing he was good at, it was acting.

“Ready or not, here I come!” he yelled, his voice booming. He loved pulling silly voices. It was something that brought him so much joy. “You better not come out until I find you-u-u-u-u-u.”

With the heaviest of footsteps, Lucas walked across his house. It was dramatic the way he walked, and it only brought out another tinkle of laughter from the east side of the house. Lucas walked into another room and made fake footsteps like he was walking away.

There, in the corner, the top of a tiny head peeked out from behind a toy box. As if sensing him, the head poked back down. Lucas fought the urge to laugh. He played dumb and moved around the room, loudly checking behind places no human could hide behind.

“It’s very difficult to find her.” he said. “I wonder if she is in this room.”

Another giggle, another pull at his heart strings. Before he could move over to the toybox, a little girl ran out from behind it and into his arms.

“Daddy! Daddy!” she yelled, giggling as her father Lucas scooped her up into his arms. “You found me!”

Lucas swung her around and planted kisses all over her heart-shaped face. His happiness was always with her, even when it was hidden. Lucas set his daughter down and knelt down to her level.

“Now,” he said, his face serious. He tried not to laugh as his daughter put on a serious face, too. “Now, we have to find mommy.”

With her hand in his, they walked through the house to look for the missing puzzle piece of their family.

THREE YEARS LATER- TEN

“What is love to you?”

Ten sat across from his date. There was something in the question that made him cock his head to the side. His smile lit up when the person sitting across from him broke out into a similar smile, a clear embarrassment striking them unannounced.

“Don’t be embarrassed.” Ten said. “It’s a fair question. Do you have an answer for it?”

“I don’t.”

“Well, I do.” Ten said.

It was Ten’s assertiveness that got him the date in the first place. That, and the way he was so open about everything. He didn’t know if the person across from him was his soulmate, or if he even believed in that. Still, it was fun getting to know someone. In a way, it was like getting to know yourself.

“I think love is everything.” he said. “I think it’s in everything. It’s in the company you keep, in the weather you wish was different. Love is a painful reminder that not everything can stay the same. It’s the gentle way someone wishes you a good day. It’s an old blanket that smells like memories from long ago. Love is scary, but scary things are fun, too. We all want love, and we all want to be loved. It’s hope, and it’s full. I used to think love is never being left, but now I think leaving someone often means loving them so much that you do what is best for them. Love is...yeah..I love love.”

THREE YEARS LATER- XIAOJUN

He lit the candles, one on each end of the table. Getting lost in the flame was an option, but Xiaojun had many steps to take. He smoothed out the table cloth, the fine linen unwrinkling before his eyes. There was peace in watching everything come together, in the controlling things.

“Perfect.” he whispered.

Moving around the table, he fixed two of everything, even two napkins of the prettiest shade. The dishes resting on the table were cleaned so properly that not even a stray hair found its way there. The drinking glasses were sparkling. He could see his reflection in them both, his handsome face full of content.

“Whaaa, so perfect.”

Xiaojun took a seat in one of the chairs. He felt the wood of the armrest, a seat fit for a king, and he smiled to himself. The dinner jacket he was wearing was a little oversized, but it was pressed in a way that made him feel happy.

A man walked into the room and served food on both sides of the table, the tastiest feast money could buy. A bottle of wine was tipped into the glasses, not a drop wasted.

“Thank you.” Xiaojun said softly.

After the waiter disappeared, he looked at the empty chair on the other side of the table. The steam from the food rose up high, and with it, Xiaojun’s expectations. He took one savory bite of food. After, he took a bow to the seat that would remain empty for the rest of his life.

THREE YEARS LATER- KUN

“Therapy is at five p.m, don't be late.” she said.

“I don’t know why we’re going to therapy if we’re not going to work on our marriage.” Kun said. “Please help me understand.”

His ex-wife looked at him like she saw right through him. She was unbothered, not willing to waste a single emotion on the man before her. “It’s for the children.” was all she said before she got into her car and drove away.

Kun sat by himself on his front porch swing for a long time. His new house was smaller and bought with his own money. There was only enough room for him, and for his children whenever they wanted to see their dad on the weekends. With the end of his marriage, everything else seemed to go, too. He no longer had a job after getting caught having an another affair with one of the real teaching assistants. He figured it was a fair bit of karma for all the bad things he’d done, but it still didn’t make it an easy pill to swallow.

Occasionally, he would call your old phone number in hopes that you’d pick up, but you never did. It was probably for the best.

THREE YEARS LATER- YANGYANG

The massive backpack on his back made him sway a little. He found it so funny that he couldn’t read any of the signs in the foreign language. He’d met a lot of people on his travels, and each one found it charming that he was so carefree and kind. All it took was a smile from YangYang and the citizens were cured.

“Where are you going?” a traveler he had just met asked. He was an older man, way older than YangYang’s grandfather. He’d decided to travel and live a bit after his wife died. He was everything YangYang aspired to be, maybe, without all of the death.

“I don’t know.” YangYang said. “I guess, wherever the wind takes me.”

“Well, that’s a start.” the man said. “The train is here. Best go on your way, then.”

YangYang felt sad about having to say goodbye to the man. It was always like that over the last few years. He struck up conversations with so many good people, all of their stories worth telling, and then he’d have to say goodbye. Occasionally, they would exchange social media and whatever, but it never felt the same.

“This was nice.” YangYang said. “I really enjoyed hearing stories about your wife. She sounds like someone I would have liked.”

“You would have.” the old man said, his gaze on some distant memory. “Have safe travels and remember what I said, kid. Never stop. Take care.”

YangYang accepted the man's clap on his shoulder, even though it made him sway even more. The train stopped before him, windows slipping by. In the reflection as it slowed down, he thought he saw someone that looked an awful lot like you behind him, but when he turned around, no one was there.

THREE YEARS LATER- HENDERY

Since it was raining, the park was empty. Since he considered himself an idiot, he didn’t bring an umbrella.

Hendery approached the park bench like it was a bomb that could explode any minute. He looked around before taking off his jacket and stretching it across the surface to soak up some of the water. Then, he sat down and looked out over the grass. He blinked rain off his eyelashes and looked down at his lap. He did everything he could but check his phone. Over time, he looked up at the sky and let the water droplets hit his face. When he had done all the waiting he could do, he got up from the bench.

“Well.” he said, looking down at his soaked jacket.

Hendery picked it up from the bench and flung it over his shoulders. He took one last longing look at the bench for beginning to walk away. He was stopped by footsteps coming up from behind him. He turned around, placed the jacket back on the bench and sat down again. Hands on his knees, he stared straight ahead.

“You’re late.” he said.

The person sat beside him on the bench, their hands on their knees, staring straight ahead. At the same time, the person and Hendery looked at each other.

There wasn’t an apology you could say that would fit the crime. Hendery knew that. He looked straight ahead again, but he moved one hand from his knee and used it to hold yours. Your clasped hands sat between you on the bench, solid and true.

You looked at him before staring straight back ahead. Though it was pouring now, and your skin was slimy and your clothes wet all the way through, you didn’t seem to mind anymore.

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greenygreenland · 3 years

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Dream A Little Dream of Me: Norman x Reader (part four)

-part four because I couldn’t fit everything in part three-i went overboard, I’m sorry

-please enjoy I worked a month on getting this out, haha. it is a labour of tears and love.

---->PREVIOUS PART <-----

Summary: You need your memories back. But how will you get them?

Gracefield House

Not a single soul moved for what felt like centuries. The moment Ray, Gilda and Don arrived at the scene, it was clear that nothing else could be done. Mama smiled at her children viciously. She wasn’t here to play nice any longer. Today, she was the hunter and her children the prey.

“It was a clean break. She will recover smoothly,” Mama curtly announced. “And Norman?” You didn’t like the way she looked at him, or the way her grip seemed to tighten on your limp arms. Her gaze dangerously narrowed and she said, “Your shipment date has been set.”

Your heart stopped. Norman’s shipment date had been set? No, that couldn’t be. Your plan required at least another week until everything fell into place. Norman was the core of it all. Without him, what would you do?

And speaking of which, he was going to die. Die. Die. Die. He was going to die.

You squirmed in Mama’s grasp, hoping--praying that you could maneuver around this. Norman wasn’t going to die. You wouldn’t let him.

“Let me--let me go!”

It was reckless and it was stupid to think he’d be able to evade Mama’s sight just like that, but you had to try. Didn’t Emma say you’d all leave here together?

“Norman--!”

He blinked as if he’d woken up from a long dream. He forced himself to smile, but it came out as more of a grimace. Don’t struggle.

Don’t struggle? How did he expect you to sit around and do nothing? If anyone should be shipped out first, it should be you. Why? Because you wouldn’t be able to live with yourself if you let any of your family go.

Mama glared down at you with a cold smile. “You can’t fight me more than you can stop the sun from setting,” she said, heaving you higher off the ground. Your leg hit Mama’s arm and a cry escaped your lips. Norman flinched and Emma stood frozen in place.

You were always the strong one, not Emma, not Ray, and not Norman. Because you were one of the eldest, it was your responsibility to be the shoulder to cry on and to stand when no one else could. To see you holding back tears and gritting your teeth tight enough to make your gums bleed made Norman’s little heart break.

He didn’t care about his shipment date. All he wanted was to see you safe.

The rest of the day passed in a blur of faces, voices and regrets. The sharp pain in your leg long faded, leaving only a dull throb that stayed as a reminder of your failure. Yes, that was what you were, right? You couldn’t complete the plan even with Don, Gilda and Ray distracting Mama. You were pathetic. A waste of space.

The door creaked open and you sat up a little straighter. You smiled at the trio as they entered the room. “Hey guys.”

“How are you feeling?” inquired Norman. He took a seat by your bedside and gave your hand a gentle squeeze. Ray pulled up another chair. He hid his face behind his fringe to conceal his grim frown. It didn’t work though, and you merely smiled at him. He huffed irritably, as if he didn’t want you to know he worried so much.

“I didn’t think she’d go that far.” Ray quietly muttered. You knitted your brows together with a absentminded shrug. “And to think I was that close to getting her watch.”

Emma’s shoulders sagged. “I wish I had--”

“It’s fine Emma.” you said with a warm smile. “Broken bones heal, it’s not permanent.” She wrapped you in a tight embrace and you rubbed her back comfortingly. It was hard to look her in the eye anyway. The sadness she tried so hard to force down only added to your guilt, and you weren’t sure if you could think straight with all the regret.

“I’m sorry this happened.” you began. “Now that I’m hurt, you’re worrying for me.”

Emma pulled away as Norman gave a firm shake of his head. “None of this is anyone’s fault.” he stated. "None of us saw that coming, and even if we did, I’m not sure we’d be any good outwitting Mama on the spot like that.” He offered a gentle smile that made you feel just a little bit better.

-----

(University name), DAY TWO

Class went by rather quickly today, and maybe that was because you were sure you’d seen similar material before. Each answer came easily along with each mark on your paper like a memory from long ago. You’ve answered harder questions, much more difficult tests that held more weight than a simple grade.

“I was impressed by your extensive knowledge on world history,” said Mr. Baker. He was the world history teacher. Unlike the others, he was young, perhaps in his mid twenties. In the hour you’ve gotten to know him and the class, you’ve come to realise he’s a class favourite. For good reason, too. His jokes were phenomenal, the material entertaining, and the atmosphere, friendly.

It was like having a conversation between friends rather than teacher to student.

“Do you know what school you went to before you came here?” he inquired. You shook your head. “No. I don’t think I went to any school before this actually...but I’m not sure. I wish I knew, sorry Mr. Baker.” He offered a warm smile. “Maybe my jokes will remind you of something. In the mean time, don’t worry about it. I’m sure you’ll remember eventually.”

Eventually. You didn’t want to remember ‘eventually’. Living a life of ignorance was difficult as it was, why should you continue it? You adjusted your grip on a notebook and said, “See you tomorrow Mr. Baker.”

“Same to you, Letha.”

The cafeteria wasn’t hard to find. Students crowded in the hallways, pushing and shoving as they stuck close to hurry towards for their meals. You didn’t care much for the food. There wasn’t any way it could measure up to your, or Gramps’s, cooking anyway.

“Letha!”

You spun around as much as you could in the congested hall. Flanna raised a hand above her head and waved. She didn’t even try to hide the fact that she was looking for you. “Letha, you comin’?” There was no way out of avoiding the red-head. She had too much energy, and an eerily observant eye hidden under her smile.

“Hello to you too, Flanna.” you said, matching her step. Flanna grinned brightly. “Are you excited for lunch? My first day here, I thought it’d taste terrible. You’d be surprised how good it is, but maybe that’s because the school’s expensive.” She let out a snort that was lost to the chatter of the crowd.

The cafe wasn’t all too big. Despite the long tables stretching out across the floor, and the high ceilings and tall windows, it felt small. Crowded. The sheer amount of teens gathered in one area was daunting, scary even. It made your head spin, and your stomach lurch in disgust.

Was this what everyone dealt with every single day? How could they do it? This was madness.

Flanna patted your shoulder and led you towards the lunch line. “You get used to it after a while. Can’t say I have, but it’s not so bad.” She handed you a cup of fruit from a large cooler. You watched as she did the same and instructed the lunch lady on exactly what she wanted.

You copied her. It was all you could do to prevent embarrassing yourself.

Once you found a table, a long sigh left your lips. “That was actually...a bit stressful.” Flanna chuckled good-naturedly. “Oh, I get it, you’re shy, aren’t you? I had a friend like that back in ninth grade when I still lived in the countryside. Couldn’t even go in line without help from me.”

“What happened to that friend?”

“Moved away. Lots of people do. They like the city because it’s “full of opportunity”.” Flanna rolled her eyes. “I think it depends on what you want. I’d prefer a quiet life where all I have to do is take care of a farm. You know, sheep, chicken, cows. It’s easy because the only person who’s your boss is you.”

Flanna clearly didn’t favour modern life as much as her peers. She went on about the difficulties of technology and how they were “nothin’ but trouble” for simple folk. You couldn’t say much about that, but you wish you understood.

The rest of the day went by in a flash. It turned out, your last three classes were with Flanna. She didn’t talk as much in class, but she asked you a lot of questions about why you knew so much. Of course, you couldn't remember, but she didn’t know that. She didn’t know who you truly were.

FIVE MONTHS LATER

The setting sun illuminated the sides of your face as you glared at the frosty grass below your winter boots. You stood outside, wrapped tightly in your thick, fur coat. It was Gramps’s daughter’s before yours, so it smelled like him. The forest. A cosy fireplace. Hot chocolate. It did little to comfort your aching heart, and maybe that was because a part of it was still missing.

Standing in the last rays of sun reminded you of that boy with light hair and kind eyes. It reminded you of his touch that refused to leave your mind. He was scorched there like an emblem on wood.

“So why can’t I remember you?” Your words were lost to the harsh, frosty breezes. “Who are you to me?” He wasn’t family, that much you knew, nor a friend either. He was much more. Much closer to your heart than either of those.

-----

This wasn't a massacre. It was the shambles of a bloody war.

The remnants of limbs and broken bones lay strewn across the throne room, where pools of crimson stained the tile flooring with its iron stench. Part of you wished you hadn’t opened the door, and another said it was your fault for letting everything get this far.

Would you have been able to stop Norman if you ran faster? If you had stopped him earlier?

Your stomach flopped and turned. The smirk painted on Norman’s lips wasn’t right. It wasn’t him. He was satisfied, not with the massacre, but with how perfectly his plan had been executed. It played out like a game of chess. Each pawn he sent out had been eliminated, leaving only the most powerful pieces on the checkered board.

“I’m sorry,” Norman said. “It’s too late (Y/n).”

He wasn’t sorry and he sure didn’t feel an ounce of guilt for lying to you. Or at least, that was what you wanted to believe. Every fibre in your body screamed at you to run at him, slap him to the moon and back, or beat him to a pulp for lying and cheating you all. Yet you couldn’t do it. Not with the way he kept his eyes to the floor.

“I’m so glad you made it back safely,” he added. “It’s a shame you were a little too late.” Your gaze lingered on his for a moment longer before you cast it to Ray and Emma. They stood strong with you, yet you had a feeling they wanted to waver just as much as you.

Emma stared at the sticky crimson under her boot, eyes wide in disbelief. “They’ve...they’ve all been...?”

“Killed.” Norman plainly finished. “They killed each other and they’re all dead now. The Queen, the nobles, the Giran clan. All of them.” Despite the pleasant way he spoke, you had a feeling he didn’t mean it. The Norman you grew up with--no--the Norman you knew wasn’t like this. He was kind. Gentle. Sweet. He cared for everyone and everything, which was why he chose to be shipped out in the first place.

And why he always chose to be the sacrifice.

You heaved in a deep breath. If this were the reality of your situation, you had to accept it. Ignoring Norman for who he was and what he did wouldn’t do a thing.

“I reforged the Promise.” You made your way across the room, eyes straight and head held high. The smug glint in Norman’s eyes vanished.

“Everybody can escape to the human world and no one needs to fight. You don’t have to kill anymore, it’s over.” That was what you wanted to believe with every fibre of your being. But was it really all over? Could you escape to the human world and leave this place after what’s happened?

Norman shook his head, as if he knew exactly what you were thinking.

“It’s too late for that.” he plainly said. “No, it’s impossible. A monarchy that has lasted thousands of years has collapsed. Governance for the demons is impossible now. So is peace.” He glanced at the lifeless body behind him. “Iverk was the last one, and I killed him myself.”

You stiffened.

“We’ve put a lethal fissure in the demon society. A fissure that can’t be mended. All that’s left to do is,” he threw out a careless hand, “shatter it. All of the demons will die out. There’s just one more factor left. We can’t go back now. We have no choice but to wipe them out.” He straightened and it was like you were staring at a different person. There was no kindness in his eyes, or that light that you’ve relied on to keep you waking up every morning. “Don’t get in the way.”

You clenched a fist. “No.” Your voice came out strong, reassuring. “What is the point in wiping out a whole race just because we can’t see eye-to-eye? There’s hope and I’ve finally grasped it! For thousands of years, there’s been a cycle of slaughter and war that we have to break. I don’t plan on standing back, and I don’t plan on letting you become more of a murderer!”

Norman’s eyes were dark from under his cloak. “(Y/n)...”

You stood your ground. Defying him was the only way you could stay strong, the only way you could convince him. “We’ll find a way together! It’s not going to be easy, but I know we can do it!”

“(Y/n)...!”

“I’m not letting you sacrifice yourself again and I’m not letting you do this alone!”

Norman’s tight expression relaxed into an uncomfortably serene smile. “What are you talking about?” he lightly inquired. “Didn’t I tell you? I’m not going anywhere.”

You heaved in a sharp breath because he stopped telling you the whole truth ages ago. He stopped relying on you because he thought he had to do everything alone. “I can’t trust you. You��re a liar! You think you can fool me? I know something’s wrong with you, you’re just trying to hide it! Don’t underestimate the family you grew up with, stupid Norman. We can see through all your lies and tricks!”

You thought back to the day you walked into his office alone.

I know you Norman, don’t forget that.

It had been too long since you’d seen him and thought him dead. Too long since you were able to hold his hands in yours.

And because I love you, I don’t want to see you destroy yourself.

It was nice to see him again, yet there was something off about him. He hadn’t changed much besides growing as tall as a tree.

I admit, I don’t know why you act like you’re going to leave again...

The only difference was the hesitance in his stance. As if he were trying to hide something very painful in his chest.

...but I’ll do everything in my power to stop you.

Then he left your words open-ended, as if he knew he couldn’t possibly lie to your face like that. He knew you saw through him from the start. It was only a matter of time before he acknowledged it.

“Doesn’t it hurt?” you slowly inquired. “Because you’re so smart, you chose the reliable path. Because you’re so kind, you shoulder all the burden. I know you Norman, didn’t I tell you? You don’t want to slaughter the demons! And you don’t want to wipe them out either!”

That was the truth that shone in your heart. You wanted to believe in Norman because he always believed in you. If he didn’t then he wouldn’t have allowed you to go the Seven Walls. If he didn’t, then he wouldn’t have allowed you to walk without him.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself,” you added. “What are you hiding? What are you so afraid of?” He raised a brow challengingly. “Afraid?” Norman wanted to laugh. “I’m not...”

“The Norman in front of me looks like a scared child.” You said it like it was fact, and judging by the way Norman’s gaze unfocused, you were right. He wasn’t just scared, he was terrified. Of the consequences, of how you would look at him again, of how the blood would never, ever wash off.

But it was okay, right? He was strong. Just a little longer and it would all be over.

You took a step forward. Norman firmly held out a hand. “Don’t come any closer.” His voice was void of any emotion, cold even. “I’ve come this far. I have no intention of turning back now.”

“Well that’s too bad!” you exclaimed. “Because neither do I! I’m not letting you go this time!” You grasped his hands in yours, giving it a firm squeeze.

“Yes, you’re strong, yes you’re smart and you’re amazing and all those great things, but you’re stupid too! And arrogant! Can’t you see that you aren’t alone? Don’t be afraid to believe in us! We’re here to share everything. The tough, the burden, the painful things and the scary!”

Emma nodded in agreement. “Yeah, we’ve done that since day one. It’s what we’re here for!” Ray locked gazes with Norman. He wasn’t about to be left out of this, not after Norman’s little stunt back in Grace Field. “Don’t be so reserved either,” he added. “Just spill it!”

You squeezed his hands tighter and stood a little closer. “You don’t need to protect us anymore! We want to walk with you, not behind you!” Answers were simple, but the journey was everlasting and dangerous. You understood what it took to get here even if you weren’t walking in Norman’s shoes. It was difficult. Terrifying. But with all the accomplishments under your belt?

It was time to reunite with him.

“Your family and siblings are your friends.” added Ray. “We don’t want a future where you end up suffering no matter what the result is. And you? What do you want? What do you want to do, Norman?”

He pulled away and the warmth left your hands. “No, it’s no good.” he stated. “You’re already too late. I’m...I’m in a place where I just can’t go back. You can’t walk alongside me--”

“We know.” you interjected. Emma nodded. “About the poison, Mujika and Sonju...”

“And the experiment in the basement.” added Ray. A hopeful smile inched itself onto your lips. “See? We’re not too late. It’s okay to be vulnerable. If you’re the real Norman, then let’s lose our way together. Let’s struggle too, and laugh.” You held out a hand and Emma and Ray joined you.

“Let’s live together.”

Norman didn’t struggle to keep his cool. You re-called the look in his eyes, the same one you saw that night he was told his shipment date. He cried, not just because he chose to get shipped out, but because he was scared. For you. For himself. For his family.

That stifling look of serenity washed off his face. His lips trembled, his shoulders shook, and his eyes watered. You all wrapped each other in a tight embrace. No one deserved to face all the ages of time on their own, no matter what it was, and more than anything, you’d do that for him.

“But...” Norman’s voice trembled. “It’s too late. It's pointless because of the drugs we were forced to take. We don’t have much longer left to live--we can’t live on.” He collapsed to his knees in a heap. “Help me... (Y/n), Emma, Ray... Please...”

That was when all the puzzles finally fit. After laying in wonder for so long with thoughts that kept you awake until the sun rose, you understood. The hesitance in his walk. The way he tried to hide his sluggish step. The way he acted like he was running out of time.

“You’re dying.” The words left your lips before you could even stop them. “It’s...the drugs from Lambda, right?” Norman tried to suppress a sob, but it came out in a way that sounded like he was chocking on his own lies and tears. You took a knee, gently placing a hand on his cheek. “Oh, Norman.”

He couldn’t stand the soft look in your eyes, or the tone in your voice that was like a warm summer breeze. You should have yelled at him. Should have stamped your foot against the ground and growled and slapped him. Yet you knelt in front of him, caressing his dampened cheeks with a touch that said it would all be okay.

Norman wouldn’t look at you--no--he refused to because he was just as you said: a liar. Why were you so kind to him when all he did was lie? He said he’d let you go to the Seven Walls. He said he’d wait for you. He said he wasn’t going anywhere and that he’d live, laugh and do everything to be there with you, for you.

Norman wondered what a murderer like him ever did to deserve you.

-----

The grass crunched under your feet. Towards the brick walls you walked, following the sun as it lowered deeper and deeper towards the ground. You had to keep reaching for it. You had to see it.

In times of trouble, it was your beacon of hope, the last bit of your old life you were sure you could recall. No matter where you were, it was always the first thing you followed. Towards the light. Towards that ray of hope.

You came to a stop at the edge of the school grounds, right where the gates separated you from the outside world bustling with life. The occasional car zoomed through the streets, interrupting the quiet air with its incessant honking and screeching.

The sun disappeared over the horizon, bathing the skies in navy blue and purple.

“Excuse me.”

The voice was light, warm, polite.

“You should really hurry home. It’s not safe out here at this time, especially since we’re students.”

You stuffed your cold hands in your pockets. “I really appreciate your concern,” --you turned to face him-- “but I’m fine. Thank you.”

A boy with light hair and kind eyes met your gaze. Something about him reminded you of something--no--someone. You couldn’t put your finger on it, but the boy did. He’d never forget you, no matter how many lifetimes he lived.

“(Y/n)?” He was breathless, frozen in time as you awkwardly knitted your brows together. (Y/n) wasn’t your name. It was Letha, the name Gramps gave to you because you couldn’t remember your own.

Your confused frown made the boy’s eyes well with tears. You stared, watching as he slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a pained sob. He was a student here just like you, sporting the traditional sweater vest, white button-up with a tie, and black slacks to match. You’ve never seen him before, yet he looked so...familiar.

Gosh, why couldn’t you remember?

“It’s been over a year and,” he chocked, “I’ve looked everywhere. How could you--how could you do all that for us? You promised we’d live together, but you reforged the Promise and--and...”

The boy's knees wobbled, and out of instinct, you threw out your arms. He fell into you, right at the crook of your neck. You couldn’t see his face, but you knew his tears must have been frozen by now. It was cold out here.

“Are you okay?” Your voice was small, fearful almost. It made the boy cry harder. “I don’t know you, but why don’t we go inside? There should be a cafe down there, and they’re open late, so...”

“I’m sorry.”

You paused.

“I’m so sorry.” he echoed. “I wish I was there. I wish--I wish it were me--but instead...”

You patted his back as if you’d known him for a lifetime. Maybe you felt bad and that was why you hadn’t shoved him off, or maybe, it was because having him in your arms felt so right. Familiar in a way you couldn’t put into words.

Your gentle touch made the boy’s sobs relapse. He curled into you, wrapping his arms around your middle like you’d run away. Like you’d disappear. There was something so nostalgic about this hug and the way you both had your arms around each other.

It had happened before.

“The Promise,” the boy muttered, “you made it in exchange for--”

------

Bright, blue sky stretched out as far as the eye could see. It was beautiful, and oddly calm. Perhaps a little too calm. After running through a maze of illusions and riddles you struggled to solve, you arrived in this place. Alone. The ground was like water, and with each step you took, it rippled and fanned out.

Someone sat in the middle of this endless sky and water, hovering over it serenely.

“What is it you seek?” the demon inquired. You stepped forward. “I want to reforge the Promise.” The demon’s single eye gazed straight through you, as if you were nothing more than a sheet of paper held to the light. “Sure, (Y/n).”

You pursed your lips together. He was unnervingly calm, child-like even, and you had a feeling it had to do with his ‘reward’ after the promise.

“So what is it you seek?” questioned the demon. “You must give me a reward as well.”

Yes, that was the catch. But what could it be? This demon was a being higher than anyone in the land, a god that once split the world in two. He transcended time, yet remained relatively simple-minded and difficult to read.

“The reward,” the demon fiddled with an orb in his hands, “hmmm... It would have to be something important. Ambition. Desire. What someone longs for. What I would want is something important to the other party. Will you make a wish despite that?”

This was for more than your family and Norman. You had people relying on this one choice, this one Promise.

“Yes, I will make a wish despite that.”

It all meant more than the world to you. You had to liberate your family, the children who were raised like livestock and mass-produced like wild animals. And the mamas who fought to survive--you had to think about them too.

“I wish for all the cattle children to cross over...”

They didn’t choose that life of suffering. None of you did.

“And after that, for it to be completely impossible to pass between the two worlds.”

The demon continued to stare. You stood strong and proud with the weight of all humans in this Neverland on your shoulders. If he granted your wish, then the tide would turn and you’d be able to save everyone and everything.

“I will grant that wish,” he said. “And the reward I want are your---”

----

“Memories?” The words fell from your lips in a hasty breath. More than anything, you valued finding them. It was the only missing piece in your heart. The last portion of the unsolved mystery.

This boy--whoever he was--talked about you like he knew you. Held you like you meant something. Said that name, (Y/n), like it were his life line. He pulled away with a sniffle, settling his hands on your shoulders with a loving touch.

“You don’t remember me.” He lifted a hand and raised it to place on your cheek. But he couldn’t touch you like he used to. Not when you looked at him like he was far away and out of your reach.

“You don’t remember me.” the boy quietly repeated. He began to pull away, but you grasped his hand in yours. It was warm, soft. “No, I...I’ve seen you before.” There was a pained look on the boy’s face, as if he thought you were lying to him.

“Haven’t we been through this before (Y/n)?”

No, said your mind. Yes, said your heart.

“You shouldn’t lie to yourself.”

Your grip tightened around his hand, but not enough to hurt him. “I...I do know you. You’re...” You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. You shouldn’t lie to yourself. But you did know this boy, and all this time, you yearned to see him.

Remember.

Who was he to you?

Who were you to him?

Remember.

Remember!

“I can’t remember your name,” your eyes welled up with cold tears, “but I know I’ve missed you all this time.” You pulled his hand to your cheek as he brought you close. The scent of parchment, aged books, and the woods. Yes, that was nostalgic, so much that it felt right. The final piece, fragmented and broken, began connecting again. It brought the dots and the gaps you tried so hard to fill together.

But something else was still missing.

The boy pulled your head to the crook of his neck and rocked you from side to side in the moonlight. Even the hazy streetlights were drowned out by the stars. You liked to think it was because this part of the city was quiet, isolated, from the rest of the world. And the rest of your worries.

“Norman.” he said.

You looked up at him.

“My name is Norman.”

“And mine is...(Y/n)?”

“Yes,” he said with a bittersweet smile. “I think the day I fell in love with you was when you got excited about something Ray told you. Ray is our family if you’re wondering, and so is Emma, and Gilda, Don...” He told you about people you once knew, and the life you once lived. Some parts he left out, and others he kept.

But you wouldn’t have known. Not when your memory laid in fragments.

“...And so we looked for you. I didn’t think you’d be here, but I’m glad you were.” He laid his chin on the top of your head. “You used to joke that I’d never be taller than you, but now I am.” A sad chuckle left his lips. “I wish things could be different and that you--”

Out of the corner of your eye, you spotted a flash of red hair. Your head began to pound and you nuzzled closer into Norman.

“What’s wrong?”

“My head hurts.”

He ran a hand through your locks, arms folded close around you as he hummed a sweet tune. It was sad, melancholy, and the only one you’d ever known your whole life. “I know that song.” you mumbled. Norman smiled softly. “Mama used to sing it to us all the time. When Ray had nightmares, she put him to sleep with this song.”

The pounding in your head increased and you squeezed your eyes shut. “I did too. I sang...to you.” Norman’s lips parted, but he settled on a nod and smiled instead. “You remember?”

“I think so.” The memory was hazy, as if someone were trying to make you forget for good. But you fought that urge, held on to the image of a room with white sheets and bed lined up side by side. “You were...talking to me...about a...I don’t know...”

“Go on.”

“You were crying late at night...so I...I sang to you.”

Norman kissed the top of your head. When he was in Lambda, locking in that room all alone running through test after test, he held fast to that memory. It kept him from giving up on what he fought for, and kicking the bucket for good.

“I missed you so much.” he wistfully whispered. “You can’t leave me again, or else you’ll break my heart for good.” You looked up to meet his watery eyes. “Why would I leave?” Norman shook his head. “It was in the Promise, wasn’t it? You can’t break it.”

The pounding began to fade. You tiredly smiled, but it was warm and thankful and happy. “That won’t stop me, Norman. I don’t think I could live without you.” He warmly chuckled, intertwining his hands with yours. “Me too.”

And it was then that you began to feel a little more complete, a little more you from then. You were sure you wouldn’t have to dream another little dream of your wodeerful Norman any longer, for he would be right by your side, where you both belonged.

You released his hands and cupped his cheek. It was a natural act you didn’t even have to think twice about. When you were you, you had done this more than a thousand times. Your lips connected in a sweet kiss. He tasted like coffee and tea rolled into one, and you had a feeling it was because he couldn’t choose which was better.

“I love you.” you said. He warmly smiled, but underneath, it was almost sly. “I love you too. Why don’t we do some catching up?”

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Thank you to those who stayed this long, I love you all SOOOOO MUCH!

#tpn emma #tpn norman x reader #tpn norman #tpn manga #tpn ray #emma the promised neverland #ray the promised neverland #norman the promised neverland #the promised neverland #ynn #ynn ray #ynn norman #ynn emma #anime x reader #anime

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ninjago-bingo · 3 years

Text

final month recap

wow, everyone. we’re here. we’ve made it. we’re reached the end of our bingo time, and i’m absolutely floored by the sheer creative output that i’ve seen over these last four months. everyone, take a moment to give yourself a pat on the back!!! no matter if you made 1 piece or 10, there’s now a work of art out there in the world that wasn’t there before. and truly, that’s super heccing rad no matter how you look at it.

so let’s celebrate! for this recap, we have a total of 20 new pieces, bringing the total amount of ninbingo pieces up to 50. in the span of four months, this little event has created 50 individual works (five of them in the last day!) holy cow ya’ll.

i’m putting out this recap now, but don’t worry, it’s not the end yet! any submissions made to the end of the 30th still count and this post will be updated accordingly :D

fic:

all the things i’ve never done by @sa-you-na-ra. tumblr || prompts: competition and teasing

It’s always a funny thing when the ninja realize new things about each other. Even though living with each other meant they had to see each other all day, there were still small habits or actions that amused the others.

(mod comments: all these little interactions made me smile so much :D looking forward to the rest!)

error 404: answer not found by @m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: memories

Akita and Zane talk after the battle in ‘Awakenings’. The conversation… doesn’t go as either of them expect.

(mod comments: the nuances in this fic are fantastic! also Akita is always a win :D)

Five times kai was a good brother by @/master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: nightmare and brother

I'm writing kai centric stuff again.

(mod comments: kai IS the big bro of the team!!! i support him all the way!!)

How Garmadon became a chauffeur by @master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompt: driving

"um...Kai? Don't you think we should go Slower?" Garmadon asked nervously trying not to panick as they raced down the road at what had to be over the speed limit.

(mod comments: who let Kai drive? no but honestly this is canon alskdfj)

little things by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: hugs and crying.

"Enjoy the little things in life, for one day you'll look back and realize they were the big things." -Kurt Vonnegut

Lloyd’s tired of being left behind. How is he meant to be the green ninja when he always has to work harder, train better, and wait longer to go on missions with his team? He wants nothing more than to be their equal.

At least, that’s what he thought he wanted.

(mod comments: a post-ep-18 resolution scene? SIGN ME UP!)

Neither Snow Nor Rain by @fangirltakesall. tumblr || ffn.net || prompt: post-fight

After their return from the Never Realm and all its troubles, Zane is quiet and Nya is incredibly worried. A call to action to a peculiar sort of battle might be enough to change both of those things.

(mod comments: the concept of these two on their own mission together is just so good! excited to see how their dynamic plays out!!)

Never Put Off Until Tomorrow by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: video games and chores

…what can be done today, yada, yada, yada, we all know the saying. So do the ninja- when Master Wu is drilling it into their heads every minute of every day, it’s kind of hard to forget.

Naturally, it only takes them a week (and the biggest new video game in Ninjago) to do so.

(mod comments: this is so in character that it’s frustrating lol. also Pixal ftw!!)

oh take me back to the start by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: comfort and 3 am

The past should be left in the past. Or, at least, that’s what Jay keeps telling himself. Nadakhan is gone. It’s not logical to still be afraid. But he is, and now everything that he left behind suddenly feels like it’s never going to be the same again.

Cole isn’t so convinced.

(mod comments: Cole is truly the man we all deserve in our lives.)

On Our Own by @redefine-your-identity. tumblr || prompt: home

It’s been a few weeks since Kai and Nya’s parents disappeared without a trace. Needless to say, they’re struggling.

(mod comments: OU C H no poor babies 😭 the relationship dynamic here is great!)

orange and gold by @/m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: cooking

...I just need more Cole and Vania content, they seem like they'd be great friends.

Basically it's just 'Cole goes to visit her there, they almost burn down the kitchen, and make way too many puns', lol.

(mod comments: I also always need more Vania content!! the puns in this were breadful!)

permafrost by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: loss of control and promise

It’s not like this is the first time this has happened. It’s not like none of his teammates have ever suffered this kind of guilt and pain. It’s not like Zane himself hasn’t walked through hell before and come out the other side (mostly) in once piece.

Except, this time, it is. It shouldn’t be different, but it is.

(mod comments: super sweet moment between two ninja who deserve more interaction like seriously!!)

Precautionary Tale by @/fangirltakesall. tumblr || ffn.net || prompt: protective

Fighting is different now, and Zane doesn't know why. Yes, he is titanium now, but why should that change anything? It seems to be changing everything, although is all really as it seems?

(mod comments: a great start to a zane-centric fic! interested to see where it goes next :D)

Star-Ninja! by @rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: siblings and competition

What happens when the loveable gremlin the ninja adopted off of the streets introduces them to Starfarer comics?

Chaos ensues, of course.

stuck with you (through bright and blue) by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompt: protective

Kai only wants two things: to protect Lloyd, and to give him the best birthday ever. Unfortunately, Lloyd seems hell-bent on making that as difficult as possible. Kai’s always prided himself on achieving the impossible, but dealing with human emotions is much more complicated than beating up Garmadon’s generals or shooting enemies with fire, as he quickly learns. Movie!verse

(mod comments: happy birthday lloyd!! look at him getting the love he deserves uwu)

Take a walk in the rain. by @/master-of-fluff. tumblr || ao3 || prompt: rain

Cole had always loved the rain, the way it smelled, the way it felt on his skin, and especially the mud! Whenever it rained his Mother would put on his rain coat and boots And they'd both go out and splash around in the puddles and make mud cakes and do all sorts of things.

(mod comments: this fic made me smile a lot :D loved the way it was arranged!)

the hues of an empty sky by @/m-aster-of-spinjitzu. tumblr || prompt: crying

Missing memories, or having two of them for one moment - not quite the same, but if there’s one thing Jay’s leant over the last few weeks, it’s that literally nothing makes sense anymore.

Or, some Skybound aftermath, Zane actually expressing emotions about his memory switch being turned off for all those years, and what was supposed to be a ‘they tell everyone about the erased timeline’ fic, but it turned into a 'two characters who barely interact on screen talk at like one am in the morning, and don’t actually tell the other what exactly they’re alluding to the whole time’ fic that I wrote at like one am-

(mod comments: Skybound resolution? SIGN ME THE HECK UP YES)

The Make-Cole-Realize-How-Much-We-Love-Him Competition by @21st-century-ninja. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: bets and competition

Jay and Kai share a horrified look. “He really doesn’t get it,” Jay says.

Kai shakes his head. “We need to show him somehow.”

“Show me what?” Cole asks, exasperated again.

“How much we love you!” Kai exclaims. “Somehow, it’s not getting through your thick skull that we want to sit next to you because you’re you, so I’m gonna have to just prove it to you.”

(mod comments: a silly little movie fic!)

twitter was a mistake by @/21st-century-ninja. tumblr || ao3 || prompts: teasing and birthday

Kai 🔥 @flaminhotninja ☑

so who was gonna tell me that Jay used to be a game show host huh

🌺✨ the Gift of Jay ✨🌺 @zaptrap ☑

Replying to @flaminhotninja

NO WHO SHOWED YOU

(mod comments: twitter was a mistake)

two halves of a broken whole by @/rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: scars and post-fight

The Sons of Garmadon have been defeated. Garmadon is in prison. The city has been saved.

In the aftermath of the battle, Nya is more than ready to take a much-needed break. But the life of a ninja is messy. Recovery is never that simple. Although the wounds may have healed, the scars still remain.

Zane’s scars seem to match up, though. And maybe together, they can begin to heal.

(mod comments: aggressive care is my jam, and this is it!)

wait by @rosiehunterwolf. tumblr || ao3 || ffn.net || prompts: home and memories

Lloyd’s not so great at being patient. It’s not his fault though- maybe he would be better at it if waiting didn’t always end up being so disappointing- if people actually kept their promises. But this time’s going to be different, he knows it. His father will come back for him. And Lloyd’s going to wait.

As long as it takes.

(mod comments: baby. baby boy. baby. protecc him plz.)

#ninbingo #recap #long post #but i don't want to hide anyone's work yk #ninjago #ninjago fic

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