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colossal-fallout · 4 years ago

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Historia and male bodied reader. Breeding kink. I'm making you go further down this hoe you dug

The Farmhand Father 🌾

Male bodied reader X Historia

Momma Sarah is feeding you male bodied readers well with this one...

Warnings: 18+ NSFW smut. Breeding kink. Size kink. innocence tainting. Seducing. Orgasm denial. Slight pillow Princess Historia.

Seriously... This is filth. You've been warned.

You remember mere hours ago that cute face of Historia blushing deeply, squirming in such a shy way, you thought it was absolutely adorable. Her huge, sky blues' glancing away nervously, her hands behind her back a sure sign of her feeling uncomfortable as she confessed her desires for you.

This powerful, high queen dressed now in normal clothes as she came to your farm escorted by her two most trusted guards.

You blink, her words melting into a blur as if you were receiving some awful news.

Yet, it couldn't be further from the truth.

Queen Historia. In all her royal glory. Someone who had visited your farm a fair few occasions. Nothing special. Royal duties and all that. You had been in awe at her beauty - as were most. She was straight from a fairy tale. Innocent, pure and sweet.

No.

She wasn't like she were from a fairy tale. Historia was the physical manefestation of inspiration to write the most gorgeous queen in the land. The most dangerous calling siren; her luring beauty so hazardously tempting.

You had to admit it, you were more than surprised to see her at your door, still looking devine even in nicely pressed civilian clothes.

"And so, due to royal duties I must produce an heir, to keep the Riess bloodline and - "

You were sure you'd heard her but your mind just wasn't accepting it. This had to be a dream. There was no way this was actually happening.

Perhaps you'd fallen and hit you head on the horse plough again and this was some weird coma dream. You were sure to wake up to those two Colten boys from the next farm over annoying you by trespassing. The usual, fantasy free life.

"Of course, I understand if you don't want to. Please don't feel forced because I am your queen. It's just... You are my first choice. I've wanted you for some time." Her crimson face glances away.

You already felt your cock twitch at the mere words of her suggesting what she was.

It was torture every single time she's visited to boost morale of the farmworkers. Her graceful form would float in, her delicate frame surprisingly strong as she even helped out with certain tasks, her kindness overflowing, pouring into the hearts of her citizens.

God what you wouldn't give just to smell her...

The amount of times you'd tugged yourself stupid, panting her name and imagineing her little pussy stretching around your colossal cock.

Boy was she in for a shock.

You hold yourself steady, your mouth watering with excitement. You did well to hide it. Surely if she knew how desperate you were for her, the extent of the yearning for her would surely make her rethink her decision.

You sit tense - still not really allowing yourself to believe this was real.

"What about your guards?" You ask, trying your hardest to keep your words steady.

She glanced back out of your living room window, the guards waiting by her carriage at the bottom of your large yard.

"They've been told to stay put. But, I don't mean we do this right now. I want you, I do. But shouldn't we get to know each other a bit more?"

Shit.

Now she was within your grasp, you couldn't risk her changing her mind. This was an opportunity of a life time. And you'd be damned if she gave up her innocence to some soldier.

But what could you do?

You most certainly were not going to force yourself upon her. You weren't a monster. Also, even if you were, you would probably be executed for such a thing.

And rightly so.

Your mind races as she stands up to excuse herself.

"It'll allow you some time to think. I'll be back here in one month from now."

A whole month?!

30 whole days of knowing she wanted you, was wet for you and might change her mind at any given time?! No way were you about to let that happen.

You spring to your feet, throat now suddenly dry.

"Historia. If I may...?" You hold out your hand feigning patience.

You're thrilled when her satin soft palm lands within yours, a touch you'd craved for the longest time. A gasp escapes her as you sit back down and pull her comfortably onto your lap. Her heart hammering with excitement as this strapping farmer she had been wanting for a while now pulls her down with such bold strength.

Her lips stay parted and that cute magenta tone etches her cheeks.

"Of course. Let's get to know one another better." You sneer. "There's something I must warn you about."

"Oh?" She sings in surprise as you allow yourself to finally inhale her scent. Her warm form on your lap was enough - your monster cock growing, yawing and stretching itself awake.

You swivel her around so she's now straddling you as you lean back further into the chair, your hands firmly caressing her thighs as her crotch sits on your solid errection.

Her eyes widen, nails slightly dig into your skin reflexively when she feels the sheer size and girth of you. Her thighs subconsciously squeeze together as that Magenta colour deepens into more of a crimson hue.

"Oh... I..." She stammers, squirming uncomfortably.

She didn't think it would be possible to want you more. You'd certainly caught her eye and she'd thought about you often, wondering how you were doing and wether or not you saw her the way she did you. And now, feeling your huge beast beneath her ceased all of her cognitive functions.

"Would that be okay, my sweetheart?" You coo, brushing her hair from her face and holding back a sneer.

You needed this to work.

You. A mere farmer about to fuck the queen. The innocent, pure queen who no one else had fucked (male anyway). You didn't mind the rumours that she had dated a fellow female soldier in her cadet days. She's still untainted by sinful cock.

Beneath your cool exterior was a panicked inferno of hazed lust. There was no possible way she was walking out of that door without being fucked by you, now you felt the warmth of her pussy rolling through the cloth of her panties under that skirt as her legs splayed across you.

Historia's blood ran hot and she was close to crumbling.

"I need to go." She muttered yet didn't make a move. Her eyes were still wide - her mind telling her to leave but her body refusing to let her.

Your fingers snake up to her waist before you begin you push her back and forth, her slit rubbing against your large buldge.

"I just wanted to make sure." You mutter, your soft facade quickly falling away as you have her warmth massaging you, moving her small form with such ease. "Before you go. I need you to be sure. I need you to really feel me. To know what you're going to be having."

Her face deepens in colour as warm, beautiful sensations caress her clit and folds as you rock her up and down against your length what was now throbbing; aching to be released and inside of her.

Wit great restraint, you prevent yourself from running your hands all over her. If you come on any stronger it would surely break the spell. You had to wait for the right moment.

"y-yes. Of course." She swallows hard, her chest rising and falling as you push her down a little harder, your groan being held back.

"You're so beautiful." You marvel, as if it was your first time noticing it.

Her hands suddenly and quickly run up your chest as she leans forward with a moan and crashes her lips against yours, her hips now grinding against you on their own accord, your hands now free to roam up her back as her hands run through your hair with desperation.

You sneer into her mouth, her lust too far gone for her to notice as this beautiful woman rubs against you frantically like a cat in heat, moaning into your mouth.

"I need you." She breathes, rubbing her head anywhere she could against you. "Please don't let me go. I need you now. Please have me... Oh please..."

With a grunt you get to your feet, her body wrapped around you as you carry her towards your bedroom. Your tongue swirled around her sweet little mouth, devouring her as you lock your door behind you and lower her down onto your bed.

"Jesus, Historia..." You gasp when you see a wet patch on your trousers where she'd been sitting.

"I'm sorry!" She squeaks, mortified. You didn't think there were a deeper shade of red on the colour spectrum as she slithers in embaressment.

"Don't be." You breathe, removing your damp pants and springing your cock free.

She gasps at the sight of your huge dick, it's fat head gleaming with malice as it almost angrily pulses and throbs, demanding entrence inside of her.

Pushing her legs up harshly, you put your face close to her soaked crotch, finally inhaling her scent before you encase your mouth around her, sucking the moisture from the material - your hot breath feeling heavenly as her head throws back.

She'd never wanted a man so much in her life. Nor had she been so turned on in all of her twenty one years.

You continue to suck and hum, your wish finally coming true. You couldn't wait to ruin her tiny frame, your fingers hooking at the cloth and pulling them down her legs.

"Please, don't stop." She pleads.

You glance down at her bloom that sat neatly between her legs.

Thick ropes of slick covered her small pink lips, her hunger making it twitch and clench, her insides spasming and trying to grab onto anything it could to ingest.

"fuck..." You sigh before leaning down and running your tongue up, moaning at her taste.

"Ah~!" She cries out in Hysteria, her back bending and hands gripping your sheets as you run your tongue painfully slow over her clit.

You had to give her the best orgasm of her life. You would go insane having her then not being able to again.

You take a fingertips and push it against her warm hole. You weren't sure how your were going to fit inside of her.

You'd make it fit.

Your name leaves her lips over and over as you insert your index, her insides instantly pulling you inside with glee.

Suddenly you pull away, leaving her starving as you make her way up her stomach, removing her shirt.

"You can't cum yet..." You explain as your trembling fingers removes her coverings. "It needs to be huge and at the same time as me. Best chance of becoming pregnant."

She nods, pained but understanding.

"Gonna fill your pretty pussy with my hot cum..." You groan into her as her now freed breasts are caressed by your mouth. "Get you nice and full with me. Gonna breed you like a pedigree bitch."

She whines at your words, your name repeating over and over as you kiss her breasts as if they were her mouth; tongue lapping and swirling around her pink nubs, lips smacking loudly against her soft, clean skin.

You lean back, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Queen Historia, a flustered quivering and pleading mess - naked and splayed on your bed.

"Let's get you a little used to my size, huh?" You grunt, pupils dilated with a predatory hunger, pushing her arms up by her head and hovering above her chest removing your shirt with one hand.

You push your leaking head to her mouth.

"Kiss it." You command.

She does so immediately, her mouth pouting as she presses it against you, smearing your messy liquids around her lips. Rocking your hips you grab her hair with one hand pushing her mouth down. Her jaw is wide and you can only get her lips just past your huge head.

Hissing loudly you push her as far as she'll go, her eyes tragically beautiful as they water at your size her warm mouth sealed tightly around you; her tongue flat as you rock her head by her hair, her stifled moans loud and hysteric.

"Shi~~~t..." You sigh, as she gags and chokes, the back of her throat spasming around you, pulling her faster as you thrust into her, now with two hands as you push yourself up higher onto your knees.

"You've never had your mouth around a dick before, huh?" You ask.

She shakes her head, wet lashes fluttering with blinks before they roll with another loud choke.

You pull out, allowing her some air, ropes of her saliva sticking to you, keeping you connected to her mouth.

She whines your name after her gasp of oxygen before you push yourself back in, thrusting harder than before, your grip on her hair nice and tight as you skull fuck your queen.

"By the time I'm done with you, you'll only ever want my cock." You hum, sneering as her eyes roll furher, the squelching noises like music to your ears. One final deep thrust and you pull out, your orgasm brewing at a dangerously high speed.

"Take me, please!" She begs. "I need you inside of me! I'll do anything... Please!"

Panting you spread her legs, the arousal of you fucking her mouth now a wet patch on your bedsheets. Taking the bottom of your shaft you line up to her heat. You can already feel her walls trying to pull you in from within her. You sluggishly rub your thumb againt her external g spot, pushing yourself forward.

She cries out loudly, her spine folding backwards and head tilting as your head squishes into her tiny hole.

"It's s'so big... Ah~! I'm so full!"

"Oh baby..." You frown. "My head isnt even fully in you yet."

She whines in response as you slowly rock yourself, your angry errection tainting her with its poison, her purity ebbing away with each push, each millimetre that slides inside.

"So fuckin' tight." Your moan is desperate, hungry and predatory.

Glancing down you see her lips splitting apart at your girth, the pink colour washing out into a faded white as they attempt to swallow you.

"y/n!" She warns. "I can't. It's too good!"

You were inside of her now. You were too far gone to care as her entrance begins to spasm at the delicious full feeling of you, her orgasm hitting her hard as she silent screams, her eyes rolling.

"Fuck..." Your mouth waters as she gets even wetter, her ridged tunnel attempting to pull you in deeper. You take this opportunity, harshly thrusting into her while her mind was swirling in the void. You jut forward as your head finally passed her entrance, just as she comes back around.

You can't believe your eyes as you see the bump of your head pushing up against the flesh of her lower stomach - the sight alone almost making blow your thick load.

Historia is now extremely needy, her hands pulling you down and her lips taking yours faithfully as she sobs.

"S'so... Good. Ah~! Don't ever s'stop. Baby..."

"Never." You grunt pushing further into her.

"I can't... I'm going... Again...!"

Your eyebrows fly up in surprise as her nails sink into your back as she clings to you for dear life, holding you as close to her as possible as she cums once more around you.

Your eyes furrow closed. It was getting harder and harder not to cum and you hadn't even thrusted yet. You still weren't fully sheathed. Maybe you shouldn't have gotten cocky and fucked her sweet mouth.

You finally push yourself fully into her as her tongue lolls from her mouth.

"s'so full ah~! Y/n."

You begin to slowly dip into her, her snug insides so warm and tight, embracing your length lovingly, clamping and dancing around you in joy.

"I can't... Go back " she suddenly groans. "Not without you. Without this. Come back with me. Fuck me whenever I please. Your queen commands it."

Had you died and gone to heaven?

You nod. "Sure."

"Fuck me like this every night. I'll just lie here and your size alone can just... Ah~! Again~!"

Your dick is squeezed again, as she cums for a third time without much effort on your part.

"Fuck me over and over. Keep impregnating me. Only your cock is good enough, y/n. Yes! YES!"

Those words pushed you over the edge as well as her greedy tiny cunt sucking out your essence.

"Historia. I'm gonna cum."

"Give me it all." She sobs. "I want every last drop!"

Your pace quickens your hand grabbing and tugging her hair once more.

"Your dick is the only one I've had. And only one I ever will. It's too good not to own. It's mine now. Fuck me, please!" She cries out as she cums yet again.

You roar as your thick, hot cream splurges out of you, colliding with her cervix as she milks you dry. It sure as hell felt like she was taking every last drop - your orgasm going on and on. Your cum is leaking out of her stretched lips by the time you've filled her to the brim - her eyes in the back of her head and mouth open.

She'd ment it too. You didn't even have time to pack your stuff after you'd recovered as she whisked you away to her carriage. Admittedly, she was walking a little weird for a few days after.

Part 2 coming soon....?

#snk #attack on titan #snk imagines #snk season 4 #snk fandom #attack on titan x you #aot historia #historia reiss #historia x reader #snk historia #historia #snk smut

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silverarmedassassin · 4 years ago

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Clandestine Meetings - One

Actor!Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 2488 | Warnings: None

A/N: Listen, I know I said this would be posted in "about an hour," but I have no self-control and it must be posted NOW.

Sorry for the delay in getting this out! I was having a bit of block. Thank you for reading and, if you feel so inclined, please let me know what you think!❤️ If you want to be tagged, please send me a message or enter your url here!

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

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It’s 10:30 by the time your boss stumbles into the office. Pepper Potts is usually the embodiment of poised and put together - sleek strawberry blonde hair either falling over her shoulders in beautiful waves or tied in a high ponytail; black pencil skirts and white blouses tucked neatly inside. But not today.

While the ponytail still sits high on her head, dark circles taint her usually smooth, pristine complexion. She’s fisting a to-go mug in one hand and her office mug in the other, already steaming with a fresh round of caffeine.

You hated days like these; mornings after Tony keeps her out late - either business or pleasure, you never know as you prefer not to pry into your bosses’ personal lives - were always interesting, to say the least. Pepper was never mean, and you were almost positive there wasn’t an unkind bone in her body. She was just off. And if she was off, it means you were off, resulting in your job being about one hundred times harder as you often had to play the roles of both assistant and editor.

“Good morning, Ms. Potts,” you finally greet as she sits down at her desk. She’s rummaging through her bag, growing more irritable as the seconds pass. She sighs before stopping to look up at you.

“Y/N, please. It’s been six months. Just call me Pepper.” You internally scoff at the insistence of being anything less than professional towards one of the smartest women you’ve ever encountered in your life, and she turns back to her treasure hunt. “Don’t tell me I left my laptop at home,” she whines to herself as she slumps down into her large executive chair.

You clear your throat as you shuffle forward, computer in hand. “You had me take down to IT to get your files backed up, remember?” you smile as you deposit the device on the cherry-oak desk.

Pepper returns the smile and shakes her head. “Honestly, I don’t understand how I functioned before you.” She slides the laptop across the desk and opens it. While she waits for the software to boot up, she starts her typical morning rapid-fire session. “Did I miss any calls before I came in?”

“No, it’s been pretty q-word this morning.” You vowed never to say “quiet” while in the office. It somehow always jinxed your days, resulting in everyone and their mother calling within twenty minutes.

“E-mails?”

“The chef you’ve been in contact with sent over his schedule for the next few months. It’s looking like the best time to meet is early next month if you want to get the feature done in time for the winter edition.” Pepper opens her mouth to fire another question, but you’re one step ahead of her. “I’ve already blocked out a date in your calendar and sent the invite to his team.”

A soft smile graces the woman’s face as she scribbles notes in her daybook. “And what does my schedule look like for today?”

You sort through the mental files that contain minute-to-minute information regarding your boss’s workday. “You’re pretty booked. You have that photoshop with James Barnes at noon, and after-”

“Shit,” Pepper mummers, cutting you off. Panic quickly settles into her features. “Why does Tony do this? Barnes is impossible to book for anything. I can’t miss this….”

“Uh, no, you can’t,” you practically screech as you fix your boss with a wild look. “This photoshoot has been on your schedule since before I even started. And the time you have set up with him next week doesn’t allow for a full interview, photoshoot, and get material for the short online feature.” You try not to let the panic come out in your voice, but this is precisely the kind of incident you were hired to prevent.

Pepper gently closes her laptop and sets her features in a serious look. “Listen, I think you’re doing a great job here, and you’ve grown so much within the few months you’ve been on the team.” You eye her suspiciously, wondering if this was your ‘you’re fired’ speech. If so, it was definitely coming out of left field. “Why don’t you take my place at the shoot today? If Tony hadn’t promised I’d be in attendance for this investor meeting today, I’d have you go to that instead. But,” the blonde sighs deeply before continuing, “Tony has no regard for anyone’s schedule, and this is an important meeting.”

Your stomach drops from the 44th floor you’re currently on down to ground level. You’d never been on a set before, let alone one with someone as big as James. Plus, you’d only been on a handful of mid-sized interviews. How did she expect you to do this by yourself?

“Pepper, I…”

“I know what you’re going to say. You’re going to try and tell me that you’re not ready and that you can’t possibly clear your schedule for the afternoon. But if I didn’t think you were capable of holding your own, you wouldn’t even be sitting here with ‘assistant editor’ in front of your name. You have the skillset; you just need to show that you can use it. I know you don’t want to be an assistant forever.”

You anxiously bite your lip, feelings of inadequacy and anxiousness filling your senses.

“I don’t even know this James guy…” you say, defeated.

“Well, the car doesn’t arrive for another,” she looks down at her phone, “forty-five minutes. You better get reading.”

“We really need to bring you into the twenty-first century,” Natasha, Bucky’s manager, says as the first notes of My Funny Valentine start dancing through today’s set.

Following the too-bright flash of the camera, Bucky blinks the starbursts out of his eyes and tries to set the redhead with as stern of a look as possible. “Don’t you dare diss Mr. Sinatra. He’s a classic. A legend!” He watches as a stylist runs up and begins fussing with his hair.

Natasha just rolls her eyes and goes back to scrolling through her phone. As much as she acts annoyed with him - and his insistence of having at least two dozen 40’s songs on every photoshoot playlist - he knew she wouldn’t trade him for the world. They had a long history pre-dating the entertainment industry, and she was damn good at her job. If it wasn’t for Nat, Bucky’s not sure his current agency would have even signed him.

As the stylist finishes up her poking and prodding, the photographer - who Bucky has already forgotten the name of - begins shouting out directions from behind the camera. Pose this way. Turn that way. Make it look like you want to be here. It takes everything in Bucky not to grimace - both at the consistent reconfiguring he has to do to his body and the loud rumble that echoes through his stomach. The shirtless pictures they were shooting today caused him - against his better judgment - to forgo breakfast and, with nothing but too-weak black coffee in his system, Bucky couldn’t help but feel a little agitated.

“Just a few more shots, and then we can break for lunch,” he hears the man behind the camera shout before dragging the camera back up to his face.

Bucky contorts himself into a position that shows off the abs he’s worked incredibly hard to achieve and maintain and masks his face in the perfect moody smolder these magazines love so much. Three more pops of the shutter, some grumbling and direction by the photographer, and one more position change, and he’s finally free.

As he’s looking at the pictures and throwing a robe over his bare torso and boxer-clad bottom, Bucky’s attention is pulled from the camera’s tiny screen to the back of the spacious room by Natasha’s stern, Russian-lilted voice. The accent only came out when she was agitated, so the sound alone is often used as a warning sign to those closest to her to stay away.

“How did you even get up here? Is there no security in place? I swear-”

Bucky turns to find his manager - all five-foot-three inches of her - standing defensively in front of whomever she’s cornered by the elevator.

“As I said, I’m here in place of Ms. Potts.” Bucky perks up at the second voice; is almost positive he recognizes the sweet melody despite having only encountered it once several months before. “Here, look, I have my badge.”

Sure enough, as Bucky scurries over to the duo, he sees a familiar face anxiously looking at his manager. He might be terrible with names, but Bucky Barnes rarely forgets a face.

“Natasha, why do you insist on harassing every person who sets foot within a five-foot radius of me while on the job?” Bucky jokes as he approaches the women.

He watches as your attention shifts from the annoyed redhead to him; a look of shock and maybe a hint of mortification flashes across your face.

“I wasn’t harassing. This is a closed set, and randos from the street can’t just walk on up,” Natasha rolls her eyes. “And it’s not you I’m worried about. It’s...you. But you know what I mean!”

He does. After all, protecting his privacy and work is one of Bucky’s most significant concerns. That doesn't mean he isn’t going to tease Natasha any chance he gets. He playfully scoffs and turns his attention to you. “I see you got the job. I told you everything was going to work out.”

Bucky can’t help but preen at the way you anxiously tuck a non-existent stray hair behind your ear and bite your lip. “You were right. Mr. Stark isn’t as intimidating as I thought. Although,” you playfully roll your eyes, “he is a menace. He promised Pepper’s attendance at a meeting, so now you’re stuck with an inexperienced interviewer rather than the queen of journalism.”

“Bah!” Bucky exclaims. “I’m sure you’ll do great. Plus, you’re not the one half-naked in the situation. If anyone embarrasses themselves, it’ll be me.”

Natasha chortles at the comment, mumbling something the sounds a lot like, “ever the charmer,” before walking away. At the same time, Bucky doesn’t miss the way your gaze slowly skims down his cotton-clade body before snapping back up to his face.

“Come on. We just broke for lunch, and Stark spares no expense when it comes to the spreads.”

It’s well past six-thirty in the evening when you finally make it back to your building. Despite the exhaustion flowing through your veins and the grumble in your stomach reminding you every five minutes that you haven’t eaten since lunchtime, there’s a festive air to your being, a proverbial pep to your step that could only be the result of a successful first interview experience.

Yeah, you were a nervous wreck before and during the interview, but you walked away feeling amazing about yourself - and with three pages worth of phenomenal, touching, and personal quotes from the one and only Bucky Barnes.

You try to ignore the butterflies that erupt low in your belly at the thought of the blue-eyed god of a man. Despite having no other experience interviewing someone with as large of a celebrity as he, you’ve concluded that Bucky is an angel of an interviewee. He was polite, answered all of your questions, and flirted just a little. Or, at least that’s what you would call it if you were anyone but a lowly editorial assistant who still purchased from bargain bins because that’s all you could afford. In all reality, Bucky was a very smooth talker with the confidence to back it up. It explained the incomprehensible hype surrounding the man you had no idea was such a big deal less than twelve hours prior.

The rumble of your stomach pulls you back to reality as you unlock your apartment door. You push the thoughts of Bucky to the back of your mind, settle for finishing unpacking the day for when you’re unwinding for bed. Right now, all you want to focus on is fo-

“Uh, hello!” your roommate Wanda screeches as you push open the door. The redhead is standing, arms crossed, in your entry, a look of disdain on her face. “When were you going to tell me, your best friend and roommate, who pays half the rent and utilities, mind you, that Bucky Barnes followed you on Instagram. James Bucky Barnes, Y/N!”

You freeze at the mention of the man who has taken up every inch of your mind since you left the shoot earlier that day. You deposit your keys onto the small table next to the door and try to act as nonchalant as possible. “What are you talking about, Wanda?”

Your roommate starts wagging her phone in front of your face before pulling it back so she can read off her screen. “Well, I follow these gossip blogs - just for fun, of course. I like to stay up-to-date with all the celebrity goings-on.” You fix Wanda with an unamused look as you pass by on the way to the kitchen. “And I was scrolling through, catching up on today’s gossip, and all of a sudden, I see a screenshot of your Instagram account!”

You freeze mid-reach for a saucepan and turn to look at her. “What?”

“Yea, see,” Wanda holds her phone out so you can see the screen. Low and behold, there your account is; questionably composed landscape shots of the city and poorly-lit food pics in all their glory. “It started to circulate this afternoon after someone saw he followed you! Why did he follow you?”

You slowly resume your task of reheating last night’s spaghetti as you answer her. “I...I don’t know? I met him at work this afternoon. He probably just followed me because of Stark.” You shrug despite the thrill that runs through your body.

You halfheartedly listen as Wanda blabs on about the crush she’s apparently had for years despite never having once mentioned it to you, too focused on running through the day’s events to care much about how she’s seen every single one of his films at least a dozen times.

Maybe he had been flirting with you? His manager did mention he flirts with anything with a heartbeat, so it was most likely just part of his personality. Or at least the role he played in public. You weren’t naive enough to think that who Bucky presented himself as to the media, fans, and others not in his inner circle was the real Bucky. After all, he was likely just trying to win you over so you’d write something good about him.

Still, you can’t help the giddy smile that creeps across your face as, when you finally lie down for the night, you open the Instagram app to find Bucky’s name and verified status among the several notifications awaiting you.

@redbarn1995 @juenenfeu

#bucky x reader #actor!bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #actor au #bucky barnes au #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic

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sylvie-writes · 5 years ago

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Jersey #18

pairing: Steve Rogers x reader (ft. Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Wanda)

request: I know your requests are closed but I had an idea for a Steve Rogers au where he is in high school and his best friends bucky and Sam are trying to set him up with their girlfriends friend? It would be post serum Steve but like he never had the serum (like puberty was just very kind to him, not that he isn’t everything and more without the serum, just wouldn’t make sense for him to be a football star as pre serum Steve ya know?) and reader is a cheerleader but is also shy. Anywho the day of the homecoming game cheerleaders have to wear a football boys jersey and Nat wears Buckys because they’re obvi in love, Wanda wears Sams, and reader wears Steve’s and when they win the game she runs onto the field and hugs Steve and tells him she’s proud of him and they go to the dance together and they end up dancing to the song Rumor by Lee Brice? And end up admitting they have feeling for each other? ❤️❤️😭 if you could make this happen I would be ECSTATIC

a/n: Thank you for being patient with me. It took me longer to write this because I wanted it to be good. I’m trying to get my shit together at the moment lol. Hopefully you enjoy this because I loved the idea!

*I chose the number eighteen because Steve was born 1918 and I didn’t know of any other numbers that corresponded with him haha!

A weight had been lifted off your shoulders once the bell rang, freeing you and your classmates from your last bell class. All week long you had tried to rush the hours, longingly waiting for Friday to arrive as that was the day of the homecoming game. The minute the school bell rang, you threw your backpack on one shoulder, practically running out with your textbooks in hand.

As you lightly jogged down the hallway, you could spot Natasha’s cerise locks of hair vividly flying around as she animatedly spoke with Wanda, the two of them most likely awaiting your presence.

The walk from your last class to the lockers was like trekking from Timbuktu and back. Eventually, the familiar tone of Wanda sassing Natasha filled your ears and you giggled, hearing her tell the redhead as it is.

“Now now, ladies.”

You slowly twisted your dial lock, putting in the combination and then opening the creaky metal door to set down your textbooks. Nat leaned up against the locked to your right, Wanda to your left.

“For once, we weren’t actually arguing, (y/n/n)! We were talking about the homecoming game.”

Turning from your locker to face the woman, you raised an eyebrow at her, “Oh really?”

“Yeah, we were thinking about wearing the boys’ jerseys for tonight’s game.”

You smiled, happy for them both, not fully understanding their words. Continuing to listen, you faced your locker once more, going to round up the things for this weekend. In your hand, you held your planner, looking over all of the upcoming assignments and strategically picking which ones to accomplish this weekend.

A sound of feet shuffling sounded louder and louder in the hallway, getting closer to you and the girls. You heard the sounds stop, and a voice replaced the noise.

“Hey babydoll, we got the things you asked for.”

Curious, you turned to your right to see Bucky with his arms wrapped around Natasha’s waist as his lips were glued to behind her ear. Your friend tried to function somewhat normally as her boyfriend continued to shower her in affection.

“This is for you.”

Turning once more, you now saw Sam handing Wanda a jersey as she sheepishly smiled, listening to the man drop some cheesy pick up lines. You looked to your left and right, smiling at your friends' happiness. Suddenly you felt a hand caressing your shoulder, causing you to turn towards the one direction you hadn’t. Behind.

The tall and sweet blonde man you had dreamed about since middle school kindly smiled at you, a jersey in his large hands. Your eyes went wide as you realized the girls had managed to rope you into this too.

“Hi to you too, (y/n).”

Steve chuckled and you then registered that he must’ve seen your startled expression. Feeling a bit awkward, you laughed with the man, shaking off the embarrassment.

“Hi Steve, is that for me I assume?”

The tables had now turned and Steve had been staring at you for a few seconds so far, a bright smile on his face, words struggling to leave his mouth. You giggled at his sweet little mistake.

“Oh! Uh yes!”

His face shuffled through three shades of vermilion, his cheeks most likely toasty as his blushed ears said so. Steve’s lips contorted into that million dollar smile, pearly whites twinkling at you. Unfolding the jersey, Steve brought the shoulders of the jersey to your own, letting the shirt drape over your chest. “Looks great, babe!”

You bit your bottom lip at his playfulness, lightly slapping his chest.

“Oh hush, Rogers.”

The two of you were in your own little world, as your friends watched upon your interaction, unbeknownst to you both.

“I hate to break this up, but we have to get to practice, punk. Gotta be in tip top shape, ya know?”

Bucky quickly kissed Nat goodbye, Sam doing the same with Wanda, leaving you and Steve to awkwardly wave at each other. Once the boys had left, your two best friends hounded you like detectives, not allowing you to leave until you answered each and every question. It was no secret that you harbored feelings for Steve, and vice versa, yet both of you were too petrified to make the first move. Honestly, you felt somewhat insecure, as the girls who wanted to date Steve made up a queue line longer than the Great Wall of China. There were so many options, and he chose you? Apparently it made sense to everyone else except for yourself.

‘Lovey-dovey’ feelings aside, Steve was a great guy, who you considered one of your close friends. Since middle school, you had known Nat, Wanda, Bucky, Sam, and Steve. You six had always been close, and sports brought you all even closer. First, Bucky and Nat got together, then Sam and Wanda, now the four have spent the past year trying to set you and Steve up, which you do kind of enjoy, but of course you don’t let them know that.

When you had finally satiated Wanda and Nat’s dying need to know every detail of your five minute interaction with Steve, you three went to go find the rest of the team and work on some cheers. Time ticked on and soon four hours became three...two...one.

With an hour until the game began, Natasha, who was cheer captain, frantically ran around, checking up on the team members as you all added finishing touches to your makeup and hair. You sat in front of the vanity, carefully watching Nat getting chastised by Wanda. Her hands hastily flew as she talked, probably scolding Natasha for worrying about everyone else and not even being ready herself. Time was ticking away, so you and Wanda helped the woman get ready. When finished the three of you looked into the mirror to see your reflections smiling back, large jerseys half-tucked into your cheer skorts.

Needless to say, the first three quarters of the game were intense leaving not only you, but the audience on edge. A few offenses left you grimacing, but the boys picked themselves up and kept going. For a majority of the game, you and the girls stayed on the sidelines, expertly performing cheers that were prepared by Natasha. At halftime, you all came onto the field and executed more advanced tricks and such.

Now here you all were, last quarter of the game. So far, your school only needed one more winning play to win the game and keep the team’s winning streak. You gripped your pom poms tightly as you watched Steve briskly run down the field, football tucked in his arm, making your heart race increase a bit. It was then that you realized that you have really cared for Steve as you were constantly worrying about him out on the field.

Too busy daydreaming, you hadn’t even noticed that the game had ended until the crowd started cheering. Immediately, you saw the guys standing in the field waving at the sea of screaming people who excitedly waved their foam fingers and signs. Football was a huge thing in your town, especially with your high school having been the reigning champs.

You looked to your side to notice Natasha and Wanda missing and now running towards the guys. With confidence, you dropped your pom poms and ran towards them all. Steve caught sight of you and with a bright smile, held out his arms. Catching your figure, he laughed and spun you around.

Steve set you down, but not letting go and still in fact holding you close to him. He continued to smile down on you while you gazed up at him.

“Congratulations, Cap.”

You teasingly called the man by his nickname, gently running your fingers through his sweaty helmet hair as a few strands had fallen forward.

Cheeky grin, the man replied, “Well thank you. Couldn’t have done it without you and your girls.”

You gave the man a tight hug and he chuckled.

“Hey, I was thinking that maybe if you were free, would you like to go with me to homecoming dance tomorrow?”

He looked ready to apologize for what he thought was being forward when you happily smiled at him.

“I’d be honored. See you at seven, Steve Rogers.” Giving the man a quick kiss on the cheek, you ran back across the field with the girls who were leaving.

Exactly seven o’clock on the dot you heard a loud knock on the front door. Running down the stairs, sparkly stiletto heels in hand. Last night when you had told Nat and Wanda that Steve asked you to homecoming, they practically threw you into the car and drove to the mall as if all of the dresses might disappear overnight. The three of you decided on a red high low dress, one of Steve’s favorite colors which you had learned from Bucky. Next, Wanda picked out said stilettos and you were ready for homecoming dance. That night you were so excited that you could barely sleep, and now the time had finally come.

Containing your excited squeals, you threw open the door to see Steve with his jaw dropped as he shamelessly eyed you over.

“(y/n), you look absolutely stunning. Not that you don’t always but-”

Before the man could stumble over his words anymore, you placed a soft finger against his lips, shushing him. Steve hurriedly nodded and mumbled out a “yes ma'am,” then holding out an arm for you to link onto.

Time passed quicker than before as you and Steve talked a mile a minute in the car. Before you knew it, you and Steve had arrived at the venue and you could already see Nat and Bucky along with Wanda and Sam as they all looked absolutely picture perfect.

Once Steve helped you out of the car, he again offered an arm that you gladly took. Snuggling into his side a bit, you felt so comfortable with Steve and it was honestly the best feeling in the world.

The six of you spent some time tasting the fancy horderves and of course used the photo props provided. It was something that would make an amazing memory for the future.

Eventually, the lights started to go dim and some soft notes came through the speakers. Nat and Bucky had already left for the dance floor with Sam and Wanda trailing behind.

Steve jokingly wiggled his raised eyebrow, holding a hand out for you. “Madam?”

Placing your much smaller hand in his, the man pulled you close and onto the dance floor.

There's a rumor going 'round, ha, about me and you Stirring up our little town the last week or two Oh, tell me why we even trying to deny this feeling I feel it and you feel it too

Steve’s hand supported your lower back as you wrapped your arms around his neck, relishing in this first dance with the man. You laid your head on his shoulder, and with a smile and closed eyes, followed his slow swaying.

The song continued to echo in the room and it neared to an end quicker than you had imagined.

There's a rumor going 'round, and 'round, and 'round What d'you say we make it Make it true What d'you say we make it true, yeah?

Just as the song came to the final verse, you lifted your head from Steve’s chest. He placed a delicate kiss on the top of your head prompting you to look up at him. With your eyes, the two of you silently asked for permission from the other. Slowly, you leaned into Steve’s lips as he pushed back gently. Both you and Steve were in your own little blissful world, ignoring your friends’ whistling and clapping. You heard a bit of their commotion and giggled against Steve’s lips. His lips turned into a smile and the two of you kissed once more, this time smiling like lovesick idiots.

10 years later

You were sitting on the arm of the sofa, Steve’s broad arm safely wrapped around your waist. Looking across, you smiled while listening to Sam and Wanda tell their own rendition of homecoming night. As they finished, you looked down to the floor where Nat and Bucky were sitting, then disputing your other friends’ version and telling their own. Steve chuckled and waved a hand, “You guys did not set (y/n) and I up,” your husband rolled his eyes in faux annoyance.

Steve then looked up to you and tenderly squeezed your side, “We did that all on our own. Right, honey?”

You nodded and placed a peck on his lips. Suddenly a high pitched squeal sounded and you looked back down to the floor seeing your daughter pointing to the picture of you and Steve kissing on the dance floor.

Tonight was the anniversary of your homecoming and you and Steve thought it would be fun to have your friends over to remember the night. Over the years, Nat and Bucky, and Wanda and Sam have stayed in touch, and quite frankly, they have become your family. Your daughter was currently flipping through the album from your homecoming night. Peering over her shoulder were two kids, Wanda and Sam’s son, and Bucky and Nat’s daughter. The three of them giggled and babbled amongst themselves. Bucky scooted closer to the kids, telling them about each picture they pointed to. You blissfully sighed, a small smile on your lips as you looked over your family. Steve noticed your loving gaze and ran his thumb along your side.

“We did it, babe.”

Taking his face in your hand, you kissed his forehead.

“We really did.”

a/n: I apologize for any mistakes, I may have been too lazy to proofread heh heh...

taglist: @memissbee @tricereads @buckybarnesthehotshot @bval-1 @tonystankschild @just-one-ordinary-fangirl @turtoix @kelbabyblue @jakiki94 @calirindo @aubreeskailynn @lady-elena-adeline

If I’ve messed up the taglist somehow, let me know!

#steve rogers x reader #steve rogers high school au #steve rogers x y/n #Bucky Barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #wanda maximoff

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sweetestlamb · 4 years ago

Text

Unexpected

Summary: Accidental relationships are the worst.

Author's note: A silly little drabble(it's like 5k so idk if it's a drabble lol) I created based on an image @prodmina made for me, this is not related to BMTL at all-it's just a side dish I'm offering to my Junjin lovers. A few days ago we both noticed that these two don't really get much fluff without some angst(I'm guilty of this too so no judgement just an observation) Hence this was created, it's just a one-shot because this idea wouldn't leave my mind. This community is well fed but here's some more food for the hungry. And yes my page break this time is Sujin's sexy leg, I have no regrets.

They've been in the same school for as long as she can remember, her striving to be the best student only second to one and him seemingly showing up to drool on the nearest surface and give the female population heart palpitations. She's thankfully not one of his victims- having actual standards and a fully functional hippocampus; ergo while most girls are drawing hearts on their notebooks with Han Seojun opposite their name, she is turning her nose up at them judging them for their lack of foresight. A pretty face would only last for so long.

They stay out of each other's way, the only thing they have in common is Lee Suho- her childhood friend of many years and his best friends despite their varied differences. She and Suho haven't been spending much time together ever since she moved out with her mother, but he was still one of her oldest friend and someone she cared about. Long story short, they both spent years imprisoned with a monster and now they were free.

Her life was looking brighter, more technicolor and staying away from a thug like Han Seojun was only adding to its quality.

Which is why she's dumbfounded when they run into each other, at the most inopportune of time. She's walking home after her academy classes, being a pediatrician isn't going to be child's play and she has to take every possible advantage to make her dreams a reality. Without her father’s money backing her she has to accomplish this with her own merits, she is looking forward to proving him wrong.

Airpods in, she doesn't notice the group stalking her until it's too late. One by one they begin to surround her, leering at her body like she's a piece of meat on display- it makes the hairs on the nape of her neck raise in trepidation and disgust.

"Isn't it too late for a pretty girl like you to be wandering all alone outside?" The one she assumes is the leader croons, voice dripping in faux concern as he rubs his hands resembling a villian out of a 1940′s comic book.

She immediately begins to catalog how many of them there are, strategizing the best way to take them down. Fifteen of them. She can't fight them all, the best she can do is distract a few and make a run for it.

"Isn't it too early for vermin like you to be wandering the streets?" She replies snidely, rolling her eyes when they all whistle at her jab. This is such a pathetic end to her day, it's honestly beneath her.

"I'll make you regret that comment, you bitch!" Already with the name calling, this guy really was a cartoon villian and he couldn't even construct something creative to call her. instead choosing the most generic insult in the book. With a sigh she moves into a fighting position, fists raised guarding her face and legs apart.

"Let's just get this over with, you're sucking up all the air with that snout you call a nose." All she sees is his sneer and eyes huge in rage before he lunges at her, his movements are so predictable and she sidesteps kicking at the back of his knee swiftly. Then she grabs another arm that comes flying at her face cruelly twisting and flipping him over her body, his groan of pain music to her ears. She easily taking them out without breaking much of a sweat, she had been fighting since she was young and they were all clearly not trained fighters, just bumbling idiots playing gangster.

But then she hears the cold metallic click of a knife uncoiling. A shiver races down her spine. They really were low-lives, she hadn’t expected them to actually pull out a weapon.

"You need a knife to take on one girl? Can you even call yourself a gang?" The words are exactly the ones that are in her brain but she's not the one who utters them, a new voice has entered the fray. A familiar voice at that.

This day just keeps getting worst.

"Han Seojun, how about you mind your business we found her first she's ou--"

The rodent looking asshole never gets to finish his sentence as her leg comes flying at his face as she executes a perfect roundhouse kick, slicing through the air and landing devastating blow on his cheek sending him flying to the ground in a heap.

"Damn Sujin! And you call me a thug! I think you killed him." Seojun cries sputtering in disbelief motioning at the motionless body on the ground but she notes the impressed raise of his eyebrow. Like she needs him approval.

While the rest of the band of idiots are helping up their leader she realizes this is her chance, without a word to Seojun she takes off running. Easily jumping over one of her fallen attackers and stepping on his shoulder for momentum, he cries at her harsh treatment.

Turning back she sees Seojun deck a guy in the face knocking him out before he starts chasing after her, his long legs eating up the gap between them in no time, she's temporarily grateful that he's not the one chasing her the damn beanpole.

"Are you secretly a ninja or something?" She snorts at his terrified face, chucking when he keeps looking waiting for an answer as if he truly believes she might be. Nosy idiot.

"If I tell you, I'll have to kill you." She answers straight faced, watching as horror blossoms on his face and her musical laughter saturates the streets as she runs faster, he shakes his head at her smirking in reply.

It's the beginning of the end, but she had no idea.

🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼🦵🏼

Somehow it becomes the catalyst they need to break the seal between them, she expects everything to go back to its rightful place- them ignoring the other’s presence as they've always done and only speaking when they had something rude to say, their normal. But as she's walking in the hallway she hears him shouting her name behind her, immediately all eyes in the hallway dart to them.

"Kang Sujin! Yah! I'm talking to you!" He garners the attention of everyone in the vicinity and she turns around, annoyance purposely all over her face. He needs to know that she is not amused with him.

"Yeah, people across town can hear you. What do you want?"

"Are you calling me loud?" He cries defiantly, obnoxiously even louder than before. The smirk on his face letting her know that it’s intentional, she aches to kick it off his face.

"Is the sky blue?" She sarcastically responds, waiting for him to catch up as they walk side by side.

"A better analogy to use would be is Han Seojun handsome?" She gags as he starts posing with a finger under his chin, in the distance she can hear high pitched squeals of his name.

She picks up her pace, regretting even giving him a moment of her time. She must have lost her mind for a moment, it wouldn’t happen again.

"No wonder you're single. Who could compete with your love for yourself? I have something to do so I'll leave first." She doesn't wait for his response, leaving to do nothing but that's none of his business.

But it doesn't end there, they just keep orbiting into each other. Their groups converging at lunch and when the boys are having a heated argument about who's the best character on Dragon Ball Z, they both passionately shout out "Vegeta!!" In unison making everyone turn to face them in shock that they've agreed on something. They stare at each other as flabbergasted before Seojun pushes his hand out, palm flat and expectant look on his face.

She simply stares back blankly, considering leaving him hanging just to see that stupid offended look he always gets around her but in the end she slaps her hand firmly against his, at least he was smart enough to know that Saiyan prince was the best.

Clap!

"Someone mark it on a calendar! Seojun and Sujin agreed on something!" Su-ah exclaims clapping her hands and smiling brightly, they both argue when several members at the table pull out their phones to commemorate the special occasion. She wrestles with Jukyeong, who's surprisingly strong and breaks free from her hold while sticking her tongue out.

"You're all so annoying!" They both explode again simultaneously, Seojun hanging off Chorong's arm as he tries to confiscate his phone, she glares at him for giving them another reason to laugh at them and Su-ah cheerily calls out, "Add that to the calendar too, they're so in sync!"

It's the worst lunch of her life, she kicks Seojun under the table. This was all his fault. Glaring when he kicks her back and they end up kicking each other until the period ends, oblivious to the stares around them.

At the end of the day she's eager to go home and do nothing, which is exactly when she feels someone tugging at her backpack forcefully dragging her backwards.

"Yah! Let go of me!" She cries out, slipping her arms out of her bag and turning around in a fighting position.

"At ease super soldier, it's just me." He replies as if that means anything, but she does lower her fists; marginally. To let him know she's ready to go at any minute.

"What do you want now?" She grumbles peering up at him and when he turns walking away with her backpack still in his arms, she chases after for that reason alone.

"I'm going to the arcade. They have the new Dragon Ball Z game."

She should go home and study, she promised herself she would review her notes from class today. She couldn't afford to slack off if she wanted a good life after all.

She opens her lips to say all of this, to remind him that they can't all be pretty boy models like him some of them actually had to work for a living but instead she hears, "Fine. You're buying me something to eat."

He begrudgingly agrees after complaining, "Aren't you rich? Why do I have to buy you food?" She skips off ignoring his rationale, only stopping when she sees his motorcycle parked in the lot. She's always wanted to ride a motorcycle.

"Let's take your bike." She says confidently, not leaving him any room to refuse.

He looks at her unimpressed before a cheeky smile spreads across his face, "You've always wanted to ride with me huh? Do you have dreams about it at night?" He teases her and she lazily watches him before walking up to him, looking directly into his eyes. He unconsciously takes a step back and she smirks, stepping closer again.

" Are you nervous? Scared I might really be having dreams about you?" She watches his Adam's apple bob apprehensively before smacking him quickly on his cheek, he jolts in surprise.

"You wish pretty boy. Now get the keys, I don't have all day."

He gulps before snapping back to reality, wordlessly starting his bike.

The entire school watches as they ride off together, her arms wrapped tight around his waist the wind whipping through her hair. She's never felt anything so exhilarating.

Their lives become entangled, it's the only way to describe it somewhat accurately. She goes to his house for weekly dinners and sometimes her mom comes too, his mom is a great cook while hers can barely boil water. It's a win-win scenario. They also study together, his grades aren't horrific but they could be better. There isn't much ceremony, he stomps over telling some boy he needs that seat and she watches as the poor kid scrambles, grabbing all his book and running away apologizing the entire way.

"You have good grades right?" He says matter-of-fact less of a question and more of a statement before he pulls out actual textbooks from his bag. She rolls her eyes before nodding and turning back to her own studies. They study every Tuesday and Wednesday, he's always on time and treats her to tteokbokki. so she allows this transgression.

She knows immediately why he asked for help when she sees his math test magnetized to his refrigerator door, big red A- circled. His mother brags about his score all throughout dinner, even cheering for her when Seojun informs her that she got an A+ on the same assignment. They both blush as she gushes about how smart they are.

When the nightmares get too realistic and she can’t handle it alone anymore, he drops her off to therapy sessions and brings her to the gym after so she can release all her anger on a punching bag. He never asks her what's wrong but he drops her home after and the silence is comfortable between them.

They both never mention their dads but she goes to the cemetery with him and stands quietly as he pays his respect and takes him to get ice cream after, the dinner with his family after is somber but she wouldn't rather be anywhere else.

They never discuss what exactly is going on between them, they're just there for each other and that's enough.

At least she thought it was.

It's stupid but ever since they became...closer he's been getting more confessions than usual even for him they pour down like rain. Multiple girls a day sometimes as if they took numbers and decided to go in order, she dodges them at every turn but there's always a tinge in her chest and she contemplates going to the nurse because there must be something medically wrong with her.

She can barely taste the fried pork as she watches another girl shuffle over to their table, giant red heart box pressed tight against her chest as she approaches Seojun. His friends all notice and are chanting his name, elbowing and shouldering him excitedly.

“Han Seojun! Han Seojun!”

Su-ah suddenly places a warm hand on her knee, she looks at her in shock. Fear gripping at her as the other girl stares at her with gentle comforting eyes. She pushes the hand away. She doesn’t need comfort, she is fine. Fine.

Her throat tightens as the confession starts.

"Han Seojun, I-I've liked you since last year. Willyougooutwithme?" This isn't new, they usually lose their nerve at the end sputtering out their feelings all over him. She never sticks around long enough to hear his answers, but this time she has no choice; if she leaves that would be suspicious. It would give people the wrong impression.

She swallows her blueberry milk, he'd tossed it at her this morning saying he bought the wrong one. Coincidentally that was her favorite. It taste like chalk now on her tongue.

"Sorry, I'm not interested." He answers truly sounding apologetic, she shifts in her seat, pointedly staring at her food. Stifling her smile by stuffing cold noodles into her mouth.

There is a long silence as the cafeteria watches, all waiting for the girl’s reaction. Usually there are tears, loud wailing cries and pleading for another chance, but sometimes they are silent as they walk off heartbroken, friends waiting to soothe them.

The girl sighs, but unlike the others who usually scurry away, she speaks again, "Can I ask why? Do you already like someone?"

A thrumming energy fills the room following her question, girls all looking around at each other, preening hopeful that they've captured the heart of the resident bad boy. She just wants this uncomfortable moment to end already, it's giving her indigestion.

"Yes. I like someone."

It feels like a sledgehammer to her chest, ignoring Su-ah's hand clutching at hers she stands up grabbing her tray. Nobody pays her any mind besides her two best friends, she weakly smiles at them, "I'm all done. I'm gonna head to the library I'll see you both later."

She tosses out her tray viciously, forcing herself not to look back.

Avoiding him isn't easy, he's always there waiting for her or texting her to ask why she isn't coming over for dinner because his mother made her favorite. She's never lied to him before but she finds herself doing just that, feigning illnesses and late night classes. Which only results in him offering to bring her soup and give her a ride to said classes. Like she said their lives were for lack of a better word, entangled.

But she sticks to it, keeping her distance from him as she tries to understand why exactly she's doing this. He's her friend she should be happy that he likes someone, he was an idiot but it was probable that the feeling was mutual. He would finally have a girlfriend, someone to fill the spot she had been temporarily occupying. Someone he could bring home for dinners and someone to accompany him at his father's grave. Someone to talk to late at nights when he had a nightmare about losing his family and couldn’t fall asleep. Someone, not her.

"I'm happy for him. I should be feeling sorry for the poor girl he likes." She whispers to herself, aimlessly scrolling on her phone. Instagram has been a great source of distraction lately. As soon as she opens the app she sees a red dot pop up, a notification. She taps it seeing that she's been tagged in a photo, then another notification pops up and another and another and they start coming in too quickly for her to keep up.

"What the hell?" She admonishes aloud, clicking randomly on one of the notifications ready to see what's causing such an uproar.

It's a picture of her.

She remembers the day clearly, Seojun had forced her to go with him to a new diner that specialized in American cuisine, all so he could stuff his face with pancakes. She had no clue he'd taken a picture of her. Something that feels butterflies flutters in her stomach as she reads his caption.

How do you get a princess to forgive you?

Was this some kind of joke? What the hell was he thinking? She bulks at all the likes and comments on the photo after only two hours, she'd never gotten that much attention on a photo but she rarely posted pictures of her face. There were a lot of creeps online.

Nervously she taps to view the comments, it's a mixed bag of reactions. Girls she's never met before cursing her very existence as if she's a threat to their imaginary relationship with him and the very same creeps that caused her not to post selfies on her page posting disgusting sexual comments.

She instinctively taps to reply to rip them to shreds before she realizes that Seojun has already replied to every comment from a guy, threatening them explicitly and a few comments are even accusing him of deleting comments. There are a few comments calling her pretty but those are few and far in between and usually they are attacked in their replies by other jealous fan girls.

Anger bubbles in her gut, what the fuck was he thinking posting a picture of her for all these vipers to see?

Impulsively she taps the screen harshly, fingers flying across her keyboard.

Delete this now. Are you insane? Who are you calling a princess?!

Almost immediately she regrets her rash decision as comments flood in.

How dare you talk to oppa like that?

Oppa see she doesn't deserve you!

Who is this snotty bitch?

You're not pretty enough to be this stuck up honestly, no offense.

You should be happy a hot guy is posting you, ungrateful.

She's tempted to reply to each comment, who did think they were talking to, she wasn't some pushover, let's see if they would have this much gall to say this to her face. She'd taken on a gang of would be thugs, she had no problem beating some sense into some bitches.

But they're not worth her time or energy.

Swiping the app close, she takes a calming breath. Counting to three. Then five. Then ten. Then twenty. When her anger is nothing but a low thrum beneath her skin, she opens her contacts going to get favorites and clicking his name, bringing her phone to her ears.

"Finished ignoring me princess?" He answers smoothly, sounding far too relaxed for all the trouble he's caused. She wants to wring his neck.

"Have you lost your mind?" She cuts to the chase, huffing angrily as her phone buzzes with more notification. "Han Seojun you better delete that picture right now!"

"You've been ignoring my calls and texts and pretending you don't see me at school. What else was I supposed to do?" She can hear the strain in his voice, but he doesn't sound angry, no that's his hurt voice.

"I've just been busy. You didn't need to do something this... extreme."

He scoffs, clearly not believing her excuse. It sounds weak to even her own ears, they'd gotten too close they made time for each other, doing the most mundane things together, he even helped her clean her house sometimes and she would regularly help him shop for groceries.

"Come open your door. I think we need to talk."

He hangs up after his statement, leaving her to stare at her phone in shock.

"That little piece of shit." She curses, running a hand through her hair before she hops out of bed, running to open her apartment door. She slows down as she nears the door, not wanting him to think her too eager. She's not.

Running her hand through her hair again, she slowly pulls open the door. A breath swooshes through her lips at the sight of him, she's been avoiding him so much it's overwhelming to be staring at him directly like this.

They stare at each other, the air unexpectedly charged between them as their gazes meet.

"It's rude to leave someone standing outside." He quips finally, pressing past her before she can reply to his complaint, she huffs in annoyance stepped aside to give him entry.

Familiarly he toes off his boots, putting on the slippers her mom had purchased for him after his presence became more constant. Then he strides across the small space of her living room, sitting on her couch and glancing at her expectantly. She closes her door with a sigh, walking over and sitting in the single love seat. He stares at her hard. She struggles to keep his gaze.

"What did I do? Whatever it is, I'm sorry. If you tell me what it is, I probably won't do it again."

She's so taken back by his immediate apology that she stupidly focuses on the least important word in the sentence, "Probably?"

He shrugs in reply, "I like pushing your buttons. You like it too. So I can’t make promises until I know what I did.”

She can't argue with his assessment, they did have a very unusual relationship built on mutual sarcasm and backhanded compliments. They both were masters of never truly saying what they were thinking or feeling, too scared of rejection to make the final jump of fate. So they just kept crashing into each other, prodding and poking without recognizing why.

"I'm not mad at you." She admits, she has no reason to be upset. He hadn't done anything besides like someone else, that wasn't a crime. Unless the judge was her heart and then he had committed the most heinous of crimes.

"Then why are you avoiding me?" The crux of it all, she was avoiding him because he forced her to acknowledge the secret she'd kept so hidden even she was unaware of it until it hit her over the head.

"Why do you care so much?" She counters defensively, feeling naked under his penetrating stare.

He laughs coldly, "Answering my question with a question. Never took you for a coward Kang Sujin."

She bristles at the snide remark, who was he to call her a coward?

"If I'm a coward why are you here? Why post my picture on your Instagram? Don't you like someone, why are you here bothering me!" She hisses at him, each word gradually increasing in volume until she's screaming at his blank face. Then he starts laughing, pure unhindered laughter from his belly that stings her ears. She made herself too obvious.

"Aren't you supposed to be smart?"

"What do you mean by tha-" He cuts her off before she can finish shouting, "How do you not know that I was talking about you?"

Her voice drains like water slipping down a sink as she hears the words he said, she blinks before her mouth falls open in shock.

"Was I really letting you tutor me? What was I thinking?" He laments to the ceiling, mocking her but she's too riled up now already climbing out of her seat and striding over to him. He jolts backwards as she places her hands on his shoulders, searching his face and delighting at his wide eyes before climbing into his lap. He wheezes but his hand immediately latch onto her hips. She stares at him closely, eyes trailing from his hypnotic eyes, down to his lifted pert nose and lingering on his full plush lips.

"You like me." She states, watching how his eyes flutter shut before landing on her own lips.

"I thought it was very clear. Who else could I have been talking about, I spend all my time with you."

He's right, they did spend a lot of time together prior to her self-preserving decision to avoid him like the plague. She hadn't realized when her feelings for him had changed, thinking they were simply friends the entire time. A friend that she thought about constantly, who she wanted to spend all her time with and sometimes she's idly imagine kissing or holding his hand. She certainly hasn't expected anything.

But here he was offering. She wasn’t a good enough person to turn it down.

"I'm going to kiss you. Stop me if you don't want that." She states boldly, now that she knows this is on the table, he's on the table she is practically starving and all her doubts have transformed into the desire, the desire to touch and be touched. He glances at her, his patented 'are you stupid?' stare and she laughs before smashing their lips together. It's hard and a little uncomfortable, with their lips just roughly pressed together and she wonders if they're doing it right before his hands stroke her cheeks, tilting her head as he slows down the kiss until it's sweeter and softer and oh, is that his tongue? He swipes at her sealed lips and she only hesitates for a moment before slowly opening and allowing him entrance.

This takes the kiss to another level, as her head swims at his flavor- something spicy and earthy irrevocably Seojun that she finds addicting and she eagerly sticks her tongue into his mouth, licking at his moist cavern. Wet smacks fill the air as they suck at each other's face, his large hands nearly circling her waist entirely she shivers at the touch, feeling small and delicate in his arms. He reaches up a hand to caress her hair and she mimics the move, pushing her hand through his thick hair tugging at the end of his mullet. When they break apart, panting into each other's mouths she feels like her soul has been set ablaze.

"Since you're so smart I guess I don't have to tell you how I feel." She says trying to regain her composure and her breath, her lungs feel winded like she's run a marathon.

"Of course not. Everyone likes me, you're no exception." He replies cockily and she groans in exaggerated disgust pushing him away and clamoring out of his lap, but he tightens his grip with a deep chuckle easily manhandling her until they are laying on her couch, her back to his front. His breath is hot on her neck.

"My mom will be home soon, we can't stay like this." She warns reaching back to move his arm which is digging into her back, dragging his arm over her waist and squirming until she's comfortable.

"I know. We still have an hour. She's working overtime tonight."

Of course he knows her mom's schedule, she tries to smother her smile. She fails but nobody seems so she'll take it as a partial victory.

He reaches over her, grabbing the remote before switching on Netflix and putting on a movie they'd started before but never finished because she had fallen asleep on his shoulder. He had complained about her drooling on his favorite sweater the next day at school, as she shushed him and people looked over at the odd pair.

"You're gonna delete that picture right?" She asks, only barely focused on the movie too distracted by his warmth behind her. She has to smother a moan when he starts stroking aimlessly on her waist. His fingertips igniting her skin in a warm burn that travels to her heart and lower.

"Humph why can't I have a picture of my girlfriend on my page?"

She turns around immediately, "Girlfriend? Who said anything about that," she rebuttals watching his eyes narrow until they're barely slits. She doesn't hate that look on him.

"You kiss someone who isn't your boyfriend like that?" She blushes at him mentioning that, the kiss still very vivid in her mind, her lips still tingling.

"Shut up." She huffs punching him in the chest, but he catches her hand and yanks her close until they're chest to chest, noses almost touching, lips a hair's breadth apart.

"I'm going to kiss my girlfriend, stop me if you don't want it." He echoes her earlier words, gripping the back of her head as he stares at her a clear challenge, smirking when she doesn't move away before he devours her lips again. She groans around his tongue in her mouth, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as their lips slide wetly against each other.

When the jingle of keys sound several minutes later, she tumbles off the couch frantically as her mom pushes the door open. She wipes her lips, before looking up at Seojun; he looks wrecked- hair tussled and sticking up in different directions, his cheeks are burning red looking hot to the touch and his lips are sore and wet. Her heart does a somersault in her chest at the sight.

Fuck. That's my boyfriend.

She lets him keep the photo on his account in the end, it keeps the hungry fan girls away and guys leave her alone for the most apart. She ignores his smirk when he sees her comment under the photo.

To everyone who has something to say, Han Seojun is mine. If you have a problem with that, come say it to my face.

Nobody ever comes to say it to her face.

“You’re cute when you’re jealous princess.” He teases her, and she scoffs at him, “You’re one to talk, didn’t you almost get into a fist fight today because someone commented that they wanted to ‘tap that’?”

He growls at the memory of that, only the principal strolling in had stopped him.

“You guys are perfect for each other, both deadly and gorgeous.” Su-ah adds gleefully pushing her way between them and linking arms on both sides.

She pushes his hand away when he immediately reaches for her, “Yah! Give me back my girlfriend!” He whines desperately trying to circumvent Su-ah and grab her hand, whining loudly about third wheels and people trying to get in the way of true love.

She’ll never get tired of hearing that.

She was Han Seojun's girlfriend and he was her boyfriend, everyone could stay mad.

#true beauty #true beauty kdrama #han seojun #kang sujin #junjin #junjin superiority #the power they hold #I would kill for a season 2 focused on them #fluff #first kiss #park yoona #hwang inyeop #idiots to usdiots

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lovingumi · 5 years ago

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hii can i request for a suna angst to fluff where suna hasnt been spending time with his gf cause hes been planning a surprise party for her birthday but one the day of her birthday he decided to not greet her because he wanted to surprise her but then he sees her crying in a corner when they were about to go home and she doesnt tell him why then he brings her home then boom surprise hehe thank you

— surprise.

⤷ hii can i request for a suna angst to fluff where suna hasnt been spending time with his gf cause hes been planning a surprise party for her birthday but one the day of her birthday he decided to not greet her because he wanted to surprise her but then he sees her crying in a corner when they were about to go home and she doesnt tell him why then he brings her home then boom surprise hehe thank you

synopsis: suna surprising his girlfriend for her birthday, only to hurt her in the process because of the lack of communication.

pairing: suna rintarō x fem!reader

warnings: none

+ i’m sorry for taking so long, really. and i’m sorry if you meant this in way that they would be adults and not high schoolers, i realized that it could be that after almost being done with writing it. not too happy with this one, but my skills have gotten a bit rusty </3

“_____? hey, _____!” you woke up from your daydream and stared in to osamu’s eyes, blinking as realization came back to you. “we’re done, we can go home.” you looked around in the classroom and saw that it was already empty besides the two of you and the teacher.

he was already gone too.

“rin already left and went home, didn’t he?” you mumbled, packing your bags as you glanced at the miya. he grimaced and nodded. “yeah, he’s been kinda busy lately.”

you cocked your head and let out a bitter chuckle. “i’ve noticed.”

the two of you met up with atsumu and started walking home together, since the three of you lived close by each other.

“say, twins.” you kicked a stray pebble, watching it flick to the side of the road as you heard them both hum.

“is he planning on breaking up with me? is that it?” your grip on your bag tightened as you sunk your teeth in to your lower lip, not wanting to get emotional at the thought of losing him right before your birthday.

“what? no—!” your head snapped up to look at atsumu, your brows furrowed as you realized that they wouldn’t say anything to you. they wouldn’t betray their friend for some girl they happen to know.

“should’ve figured you guys wouldn’t say anything.”

the rest of the way was silent, with some occasional jokes coming from atsumu that no one laughed at and osamu just telling him that he should stop.

you were about to go left as the twins were about to go right until osamu called your name. “please don’t doubt him, _____. he really does love you, just be a little more patient.”

your eyes were cast down as you nodded, smiling while waving them off as you were on your way back home.

you didn’t receive a goodnight text either.

the next day the twins arrived at your home earlier than normal with grins and a birthday cake. a sweet smile appearing on your face as you saw these two dorks at your doorstep.

“gonna invite us in and eat the cake or do you wanna stay here and do nothing?”

you giggled, opening the door wider for them to enter and start your day with some cake and two boys that would probably eat everything.

although you secretly hoped for someone else to come.

after having eaten a tiny piece and gotten ready for the day, you left with each twin by your side and started the school day with a smile accompanied by some anxious feelings that were brewing inside of you.

and him avoiding you didn’t help in the slighest.

the day passed with you barely seeing your boyfriend. every time you spotted him and had a split second of eye contact, he immediately dashed and left you alone by yourself. so you just stopped trying for the rest of the day and focused on your lessons while watching the clock tick slowly.

you walked outside to the tree that started blossoming it’s pretty pink flowers after you were done for the day, leaning against it as a soft breeze went through your hair. the sky was blue with faint clouds decorating it, the sun shining bright and giving you a perfect birthday.

if it wasn’t for him acting like this.

yet you decided to wait for him at your meet-up place, wanting to know what this was all about, even if it meant that it would break your heart in the process.

but you just couldn’t stop your frustration and anxiety from tipping over.

“hey, thanks for waiting, let’s g-“

the second his eyes settled on you, he stopped his sentence. he noticed your puffy eyes and red nose, guilt immediately filling his body at the thought of him abandoning you for a day or three having this much effect.

“can you bring me home, please?” you whispered, avoiding his eyes and crossing your arms over your chest.

he nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets and walking quietly besides you. “that was the plan anyways, i’d never let you walk home,” he tried, glancing at you for a second.

you nodded, eyes dead set in front of you as your legs took you to your home.

“i know.”

the birds singing and the leaves shuffling against each other filled the quiet air, your once tensed face easing up at the serene environment around you.

moments later you arrived home, turning around to face suna who shifted his weight from one leg to the other. “thank you fo-“

“can i come in?”

you blinked at him, not understanding why he suddenly wanted to be around you and daring to interrupt you after everything he pulled. you just shook your head, not having the energy to give him an answer and turned around, unlocking the door.

you took off your shoes and felt his chest pressed against your back in the tiny entrance. you quickly stepped into the living room, only to be greeted with your friends and family members with balloons of your favourite colours hanging around.

“surprise!!”

you stared at them, your mouth slightly open and eyes wide.

“.. huh?”

atsumu stepped forward and brought you in for a hug, your side pressed against his as he pulled you further down the living room. “why is our birthday girl lookin’ so sad, huh?”

you blinked, the function of talking having disappeared as you quickly pulled away from atsumu and turned around to suna who stood there awkwardly.

“happy birthday, _____”

you squinted your eyes for a split second and turned to the rest and thanked them, telling them you’d be back in a moment after talking with suna.

he raised his brows and turned around, walking back outside with you following quickly after.

“this is why you ignored me? you planned this?” he nodded, grimacing at the way you were being to straight with it.

tears filled your eyes once again as you punched his chest weakly. “y-you had no reason to do that to me! you could’ve remained how you were, why did you need to make me feel like i did something bad?” you cried, your fists on his chest as your head fell between them.

“i- i thought you were going to break up with me.”

he hesitantly wrapped his arms around you, pressing you closer to himself as the two of you just stood there in front of your door.

“i’m.. sorry. i could’ve handled it better.” you nodded, sliding your hands away from his chest and around his waist instead. “yeah, indeed you could have,” you sniffled, starting to feel better as all the negative thoughts and energy left your body.

“idiot.”

you felt his chest vibrate, his soft and low chuckle ringing through your ears as you lifted up your head and stared into his emerald green eyes.

“but.. thank you. i appreciate it, rin.”

he hummed, leaning down and pressing a kiss against your forehead. “it was no problem, baby.”

you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding and pulled away from him. “now, let’s see if you got a good present that can make up for your stupid way of handling this.”

he grinned and rolled his eyes. “please, my present is easily the best, tsk.”

you cocked an eyebrow and laughed. “oh yeah? let’s find out, mr. i’mthebest,” you mocked, only to receive a lazy mocking back.

and so you grabbed his hand and pulled him back inside with you, immediately being greeted with osamu’s smile that basically told you ‘i told you so, didn’t i?’

and you just nodded, tightening your grip on suna’s hand as atsumu told you to open his present first with a mouth full of onigiri.

these guys weren’t perfect and didn’t necessarily execute the things how they should be executed, but their intentions were always pure and you’d forever be grateful for their presence in your life.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu scenarios #fluff #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu suna #suna rintarou #haikyuu suna rintarou #haikyuu suna x y/n #haikyuu suna x reader #haikyuu inarizaki #haikyuu suna scenario #haikyuu suna fluff #suna rintarou x reader

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sagedgeek · 4 years ago

Text

The Child

Part 4 of The Whispers of Fate (A Rey Djarin fic)

Summary: Rey makes yet another friend. Two, if she counts the new baby.

Rating: Gen (Platonic)

Word Count: 5.4k

Previous Chapter ~ Masterlist ~ Next Chapter

They spend the night in Kuiil’s little home on his farm, and Rey was immediately enraptured. There had been a few known moisture farmers on Jakku, but they were really strict when it came to scrappers trespassing on their land, especially her. So, she’d never got a good look at one up close before, and she has to say it was just as fascinating as she had expected it would be. Maybe even more so.

It was different from knowing scrap; the opposite really. Instead of each little screw and cell worth only a bit of something on its own, the farm and machines functioned together. Each little screw was important, just like on the Razor Crest, and she was eager to learn as much as she could.

She asked Kuiil several questions after Mando wandered off outside to eat the dinner he was offered. She bounced around the small home, quizzing the amused Ugnaught on everything she’d ever wondered, most of which were not even remotely related to moisture farming. Kuiil happily answered each question though without anything more than an amused chuckle and several praises towards her raving curiosity. He was patient and kind, and he treated every question she asked just like the first, explaining with care and with a wealth of wisdom and knowledge that he’d acquired through his many years of living.

Then Mando had to come in and ruin her fun by announcing it was time for bed.

Rey grunted in frustration and shot him a rebellious glare then looked towards her new friend in hopes he would argue on her behalf, but he only shrugged his shoulders and turned away to finish tidying up his kitchen. Despite her best effort to explain that she wasn’t at all tired, she was sent off to bed, tucked in on a comfy cot set up in Kuiil’s storage room. It was much nicer than the floor of the Razor Crest, but not quite as nice as being cuddled up underneath all her blankets.

She fought off sleep as long as she could, trying her very best to hold in her yawns keep awake just to prove to Mando that she wasn’t tired and she didn’t need to go to bed. It was harder than she thought it was going to be, because apparently she was tired after all, and the hushed undertones of Mando and Kuiil talking in the next room served as a quiet hum of reassurance enveloping her in a warm cloak to remind her that she wasn’t alone. It made her smile. Eventually she drifted to sleep to the low whisps of the turbine just outside the hut and the synchronized chirp of the frogs outside. It didn’t take long at all, and she was already lost in a deep slumber by the time Mando came to check on her and adjust her blankets carefully before he went off to rest himself in preparation for the day to come.

The next morning, while they were waiting for Mando to emerge from his quarters, Kuiil gave her a small tour of the farm, pointing out the machines and parts of the farm he’d explained to her the night before during her incessant quiz of questions.

After Mando woke and came from his room, they all three sat at the breakfast table together while she ate the bowl of porridge provided to her. She chattered throughout breakfast, excited about the things to be done that day. After breakfast she darted outside ahead of the other two, aiming right for the blurg pen. She’d been waiting for it all morning after Kuiil told her the plan he and Mando had discussed the night before. It was a completely foreign wealth of excitement she had only felt one other time in her life. That being when Mando promised to show her his ship.

And she was happy to say it was just as exciting as she hoped it would be. She stood on the makeshift rails of the rounded fence as they watched Mando try and fail to stay atop the stubborn blurg. She giggled repeatedly every time he landed on the ground in an ungraceful lump of metal. Once his cape fell over his helmet as he sat in the dirt and even Kuiil chuckled under his breath at the frustrated Mandalorian. She asked if she could try once, but Mando said it was too dangerous and Kuill agreed with him. She, of course, didn’t agree at all considering she’d climbed on top of that same blurg just yesterday in her effort to save Mando, but she didn’t dare argue and test the man’s patience today. She didn’t want him getting upset with her again and perhaps leaving her behind with Kuiil this time… he was nice and all, but it seemed kind of pointless to escape one desert planet to end up stranded on another, and this time without any hope of being reunited with her parents. So, she passively sat by the fence, chin resting atop her hand, and continued to watch.

Her patience paid off too! When Mando did eventually tame the blurg after much trial and error, he trotted it around in a circle in the small pasture a while. Then he looked up at Rey, and he must have seen the crestfallen look on her face because he lifted a heavy hand to wave her into the pen. She vaulted over the wood she was perched on and ran towards him with an eager smile, and he hoisted her up onto the blurg in front of him. He even let her hold the reins and guide the fish faced monster around the large circle. It was so fun!

Afterwards, things progressed rather quickly. Kuiil had Rey help him saddle up the newly tamed blurg while Mando went to fetch his rifle he left inside, and then they were off.

Rey rode with Mando, squished between him and the bar at the front of the saddle. He let her hold onto the reins to offer her the small illusion of control, but he was sure to hold on loosely with one hand as well, keeping his other arm wrapped around her waist so she didn’t end up flying off during the very bouncy ride. She was small, and even with Mando’s arm keeping her in the saddle, she felt like she could very well take a tumble right off the blurg with every downstep of the large, ungraceful creature. She didn’t know how Kuiil was able to stay on like he was.

It was a long ride, and after the first hour passed, she’d grown tired of the repetitive journey, slumping back against Mando and letting him take the reins from her. She swears she saw that exact same rock formation an hour ago…

Then they stopped.

“That is where you’ll find your quarry,” Kuiil announced, pointing at a small outpost beyond the rocks. Rey strains her eyes to get a good look as Mando and Kuiil begin to converse, but she’s a tad too short to see over the rocks.

Kuiil mentions the turmoil plagued on his land because of that outpost down there and she turns to avert her interest, looking back and forth between her Mando and Kuiil, paying rapt attention to their discussion.

“—Then why do you help?” Mando asked him.

Kuiil looks at her that time before glancing up at Mando. “I have never met a Mandalorian. I’ve only heard the stories.” Rey cranes her head backwards to look at Mando, and then turns back to Kuill with wide eyes as he begins to speak again. “If they are true, you two will make quick work of it. And then there will again be peace.” Kuiil begins to turn away with his blurg, but Mando holds a hand up to stop him quickly.

“Wait,” he insists, “I have one more favor to ask you.”

Kuiil turns a questioning gaze onto him.

“Take her back to your farm until I return for her.” He nods down at Rey, who squawks indignantly by the prospect of being left behind yet again.

“No,” she replies fervently. “You said you wouldn’t leave me behind. You shook on it!”

Mando slowly dismounts the blurg and looks at her straight on and she could feel the burn of his gaze even through the black visor of his helmet. “I said I would not leave you behind on the Crest. I will return for you as quick as possible.”

Rey scrambles, trying to dismount the blurg before he had a chance to stop her, because she was not going to let Mando do this to her again. But he’s too quick for her and he pushes her back onto the creature, placing his hand on her leg to keep her from trying again. “I am not leaving you behind. I am keeping you safe.”

She turns to Kuiil for help, but he’s only looking on passively as an innocent bystander. “But-but Kuiil says everyone dies who goes in there. You’re going to need help!”

“Which is exactly why I don’t want you coming. If something happens to me, you’ll be safe with Kuiil.” He turns to Kuiil then, grabbing the reins of the blurg she still sits on and handing them over to the Ugnaught.

“No!” Rey exclaims again. “I’m going with you.”

“No,” Mando gripes firmly, “You’re not.”

She glares at him, desperate to express her anger for the situation, but unsure how to properly execute. What more can she do?

“You behave,” he points his gloved finger at her, “I’ll be back soon enough. It won’t be long.” He pats her knee gently as reassurance and Rey feels the sting behind her eyes returning yet again. And she doesn’t dare open her mouth in fear it’ll break the supports holding her composure together. So, instead she holds out her hand to him to shake, using her other to wipe away the moisture from her eyes before the tears could fall.

“Promise?” She squeaks.

He grabs her hand gently, holding it tight in his larger one as he slowly shakes their joined hands to finalize his promise. “I promise I will do my best.”

He lets go and steps away, as hers falls limply to the side while she watches him turn his back to her and approach the overhang. Her blurg lurches forward to follow Kuiil’s and she grapples for purchase on the large saddle, keeping her eye on Mando the entire time in hopes he would suddenly turn around and declare a change of heart.

“Come little one. Your father has much work to do.” Kuiil turns to wave at Mando who had finally turned back around to watch them leave. “Fair well Mandalorian. Your child will be in safe hands. I have spoken.”

Rey mopes while they rode back to Kuiil’s farm, and the Ugnaught was not ignorant of the fact. She held tightly to the saddle so she didn’t fall off because this time Mando wasn’t there to keep her safe and steady.

“Your father will be fine little one. There’s no need to worry.”

“He’s not my father,” Rey sniffles, swiping at her nose. Kuiil gives her an odd look.

“Then who is he?”

And Rey herself didn’t quite know the answer to that one and she had to pause, scrunching her nose in thought while she contemplated their odd predicament.

“I-I don’t know really… I’m his Foundling. That’s all I know.”

“So, he is as your father,” Kuiil discerns.

“No,” Rey argues petulantly, “my Mama and Papa left me behind on Jakku when I was little. And I know my Papa wasn’t a Mandalorian.”

Kuiil makes an amused sound. “That is not what I meant, little one.” She looks at Kuiil and raises a brow in question. “How long have you been with your Mandalorian?”

Rey shrugs. “Not long. Just a few days.”

“Hmm,” Kuiil hums, “So I suppose that means you haven’t learned of their creed. Why do you think he took you in?”

Rey shrugs again, this time with a small grunt. “I don’t know! When I asked him, he just said ‘This is the Way’ and walked away!”

“From what I’ve witnessed of him, that seems very in character for your Mandalorian,” Kuiil jokes with her, casting her an amused smile which makes her giggle in return. “But by that creed they follow, a Mandalorian could not leave an abandoned child behind.”

Rey frowns. “But I’m not abandoned! My parents were going to come back for me one day! They promised they would!”

Something sad crossed Kuiil’s face and he turned away from her. “There are different forms of abandonment, child… and your Mandalorian saw you, wherever it was you came from, and saw that you were in need of a home. Will you deny that?”

Rey frowns and pulls her arms across her chest, nearly falling off the blurg as it leapt over a crack in the rocks.

“Now it is up to him to care for you just as a father would. It is the way they follow.”

Rey looks up to stare at him. “How do you know so much about the Mandalorians?”

Kuiil doesn’t look at her this time as he speaks. “I was sold as an Imperial slave. Several of my companions had come across captured Mandalorian’s in the time when their homeworld was destroyed by the Empire. I had many years to listen to the varying stories relating back to the Mandalorians and their ways of living. Their people are rare now, and they are known to be some of the fiercest warriors in the galaxy. That is the only way their kind has survived.”

“What happened to the ones caught by the Empire?” Rey had only heard stories about the Empire. When she heard it had fallen, all she remembers is a loud celebration near Niima. All she knows is the Empire was bad, and they did bad things, and the stories she had heard were bad enough to give her nightmares for days.

“They died when they refused to betray their brothers and sisters. As did most who were captured by the Empire.”

Rey frowns and she slumps her shoulders while rocking side to side to the sharp rhythm of the blurgs steps. Another bad thing the Empire did… It was so sad to think about.

“And after all these years of waiting,” Kuiil begins with a small smile, “I finally met a Mandalorian for myself. And he did not disappoint.”

***

Rey struggled to sleep that night, her rest plagued with nightmares from the day her parents left her behind in the hands of Unkar Plutt himself, intermixed with her awoken fears of the Empire. Flashes of blood red light flickering the horizon surrounding the silhouette of her parents as their bodies slowly dispersed into an ashy wind fading into the mountainous landscape. Darkness… black… and then Mando surrounded by the dark aura which she knew he couldn’t see. A danger to him that only she could witness, but her mouth unable to open to warn and plead with him to run away. And soon red plunged from the darkness, pulling him from the ground and lifting him into the sky where he too became nothing more than ash billowing into the dark atmosphere… more darkness, more red, and more ash. She awoke in tears, cradling her knees close to her chest as she sat up in the small cot she slept in the night before.

It was still dark when she rose, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to sleep. It was not dark like in her dream, she couldn’t feel it, and now the stars acted as a source of light in the dark sky, and she loved the stars. So, she wandered outside the house and sat up against the tall tower just outside the door, looking out in the direction they had went the day earlier on blurg, watching for the now familiar glint of beskar to break out across the horizon.

There was none.

The sun eventually rises, and she hadn’t moved, eyes now dry like they had been on Jakku. She hears Kuiil exit the hut, and she looks over her shoulder at him.

“There you are. Come,” he waves his arm for her to follow him inside, “it is time to eat.”

She follows. She tries eating as much as she could only to prevent the familiar pangs of hunger, but now her stomach was in knots. She could barely choke down the watery milk, all she felt was sick.

“Are you alright?” Kuiil questions her when she was barely able to finish her porridge.

She nods slowly, one hand braced on her stomach. She was afraid to open her mouth.

“When you are finished come outside, I have chores that will keep you busy.” He moves to place his dishes on a countertop beside the cooling chamber. “I have spoken.” And with that he leaves the hut.

Rey finds her way outside after her stomach calms down and she places her dishes beside the others, and Kuiil is true to his word. He had plenty of work for her to do. She started the day by caring for the blurgs which she had quickly grown an attachment to despite them trying to kill her and Mando upon their arrival. She petted them as they ate, and she refilled their water trough. Kuiil had a garden of edible plants as well, which he instructed her to go through and check for ripened fruits or vegetables. It was fun work, and afterwards he had let her have a taste of whichever ones she wanted to for lunch. Her favorites were deep orange, they were so sweet and juicy it had startled her! She had never tasted anything so sweet in her life; she didn’t even know things could be so full of taste. Kuiil must have enjoyed watching her enjoy the fruit because he offered her as many as her tiny tummy could eat.

Then she’d saddled up the blurg like Kuiil had taught her, and rode them around the small pasture for exercise. She was so busy, she almost forgot about Mando being gone! But then she unsaddled the last blurg, and wondered if there was anything for her to do next. She looked out at the empty landscape of sand and mountains, and it was like an immediate switch had been flipped…

She frowned, and sat on the ground, slumping sadly against one of the fence posts.

It wasn’t until the sun began to set that she began to really worry. Mando should’ve been back by now! It’d already been more than an entire day since she and Kuiil dropped him off. What if he died in there like all the others had?

Just as she began to contemplate running out into the desert to go and find him herself, Kuiil called out to her. “Little one! I need your assistance.” She followed his voice back to the front of the house, making sure to glance every which way into the desert just in case Mando appeared.

He stood at the top of the tall vapor spire she had been leaning against that morning.

“I will talk you through checking the cistern.” Kuill calls down to her. “I must remain up here to adjust the chilling bars.”

She listens and goes through the motions of checking the cistern and reporting back what she saw on the display to Kuiil. They were at this for a while, the sun almost having fully set. She tells herself that if Mando doesn’t return tonight… then that’s that and she’ll have to accept it. It made her sad to think, but she had to be strong!

At least this time around she had a friend. And a fun job that didn’t involve scrounging the hilly dunes of a barren desert and fighting off fellow scrappers just to earn half a portion.

“I believe someone is here for you.” Kuiil muttered from the top of the tower, still fully concentrated on his work. Rey tweaks a brow as she looked up at him, then looks to the side, off into the desert to find who he was speaking of.

A familiar silhouette breached the horizon, his new shoulder pauldron glinting in the little remaining sunlight, and an odd cylindrical case following at his side. Rey takes off at a sprint, relieved tears springing from her eyes which sting against the dry air as she runs.

She was so happy he wasn’t dead!

When she launches herself at him, she wrapped her arms around his waist tightly, pressing her face against the soft padding just beneath his cuirass, and she squeezes him with all the strength she could muster.

He halts in his step, remaining stiff and awkward as she hugged him, never making move to reciprocate the affection other than the odd pat on her shoulder. All too soon she realizes what it was she was doing, and she jumps away from him in a flurry of panic. “Sorry-sorry-sorry,” she whispered repeatedly, terrified she had hurt him or upset him in some way.

She sees skin… skin surrounding a recently cauterized wound. The fabric of his sleeve had been ripped and she gasped as she grabbed his arm to tug him down and examine the wound. “You got hurt!”

“It’s okay, I’m okay,” he affirms her with a tired sigh, quickly curtailing any further inquiries or panic regarding the small injury. He tugs his arm out of her grip and places that hand on her shoulder to turn her around and urge her back towards Kuiil’s camp. She was barely able to catch a glimpse at the closed pram and prepare a question when Kuiil himself spoke up, sounding somber.

“I thought you were dead.” He turns to look down at them, a frown prominent on his face, and Mando drops his head with a sigh. Turns out there was quite a bit of explaining to do.

***

Rey was instantly fascinated by the young creature in the pram. As soon as Mando opened it and placed the tiny thing on the ground to stretch its little legs, Rey was right at its side to examine him. Mando worked on fixing his vambrace, and she follows the child around, watching aptly as it chased after a small frog hopping along the ground. She could sense Mando watching them, but she didn’t bother to look his way.

There was something odd about the child, a weird but comforting aura she could feel emanating from him and which gave her funny little tingles in her tummy.

She listens with mild interest as Kuiil and Mando discuss the Jawas and what had happened at the ship when Mando went to fetch it in order to come pick her up, she was much more interested in the baby who had seemed to just now notice her. He coos at her, reaching out a hand as if to wave with a wide baby-ish smile then turns back to chasing after the frog.

Rey laughs outright when he catches it, barely able to grasp it in his tiny little claws, and stuffs it right into his mouth. She cringes with an amused chant of ‘ew’ as she squeezed one eye shut at the sight of the child trying to eat the poor frog.

“Hey!” Mando scolds. “Spit that out.”

The child doesn’t listen and swallows it whole, and Rey giggles excitedly, especially when the baby has the audacity to gurgle innocently up at Mando as if he’d done nothing wrong. Rey has a feeling they’ll end up having a lot of fun together. She assumes this must be another Foundling… he was a child after all. So hopefully Mando would let him stick around.

“Child,” Kuiil calls for her. “Go saddle a blurg. We shall leave soon.”

And that they do. They travel through the night to reach the Jawas.

It rained too! She’d never been in rain before and it soaked right through her clothes almost instantly, but she didn’t care. She sat in the back of the drag sled, arms outstretched and mouth open as she caught the small water droplets in her mouth. It was like taking a cold shower in the fresher!

The rain eventually dissipated and she was able to sleep a bit despite the bumpy ride. Come morning the child joins her on the back of the trailer where they play with a few rocks together, sliding them back and forth across the metal floor. They laugh and squeal, especially when things start to get a bit rambunctious, and Rey ends up nearly tumbling right out of the sled to get away from the child in the midst of a spontaneous game of tag. Thankfully Mando was there to grab her around the collar and haul her back onto the vessel before she could face plant into the dirt.

“Calm down,” He snaps from his mount at the front.

“Sorry,” Rey replies meekly, shoulders pulling up to her ears in a shy manner.

The baby taps her leg, hitting it repeatedly with an eager giggle, staring up at her with his big eyes and a wide smile. “Maybe we should go back to playing rocks.” She suggests softly, sitting back down on the metal floor, hoping that if she emitted a calm aura the baby would follow her lead and calm as well.

It seemed to work, and they pass the rest of the ride playing silently in the back. Rey could still feel the slight tingle emanating from the baby ever so often. It tickled and made her teeth itch, but there wasn’t much she could do to fix it. Nor much she wanted to do to fix it, it was like a magnet almost, dare she say an addicting feeling.

Neither of them really looked up from the little game they were playing until Mando slowly leaned down to grab his rifle without moving his gaze from the towering metal box coming into view. She’d never encountered the Jawa sandcrawler in person! She’d read about it once on a datapad she’d swiped, but wow! It was so much bigger in person.

Rey scrambles to her feet, standing up behind Mando as she stared up at the large ship, then down at the hooded Jawas. She’d never seen so many all at once before!

“They really don’t like you for some reason,” Kuiil states in response to the Jawa’s passionate chattering and aimed blasters.

“Well, I did disintegrate a few of them,” Mando mumbled.

Rey grabbed at the folds of his cape around his shoulders. “You did?” She whispered in awe. “How’d you do that?”

Instead of answering her, Mando looked up and she followed his gaze to see even more Jawas beginning to peak out from the ship. Rey huddled back a bit, hiding behind Mando’s larger frame.

“You need to drop your rifle.”

“I’m a Mandalorian,” Mando grunted, “weapons are a part of my reliegion.”

The blurg came to a stop beside the large sandcrawler, and Din sighed as he moved to set the blaster down. That’s when Rey saw it… lying there on one of the large tarps spread out on the ground.

It was her helmet! The one she had left back on Mando’s ship!

“Hey!” She shouted, face heating with anger as she jumped down form the drag sled with her staff in hand. Mando grabs the back of her clothes, halting her angry approach with so much ease it only angered her more.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He scolded.

She fought against his grip, tossing her arms and twisting every way to try and break from his hold, but she only ends up caught in the fabric of her own tunic. He yanks her back, even further from her most prized possession, then steps in front of her which effectively blocks her view of it completely. She’s too worked up to see the blasters several Jawas had pointed at her head, and Kuiil trying to calm them down with placating gestures.

“Let go of me,” Rey shouts at him, now kicking her legs when Mando lifts her up to place her back on the trailer. The angry tears run rampant down her cheeks. That helmet was one of her most prized possessions… the only thing she had to remind her of her parents, and the Jawas stole it from her.

“What is it?” Mando reiterates with an irritated snap in his tone.

He finally releases her when she gives up the fight and falls back on her rump beside the child with a defeated frown. Then she points out towards the far tarp behind the huddle of Jawas. Mando looks to where she’s pointing. It gives him a few moments, but he pieces it together and gives her knee a firm pat. “Give me one moment.”

Rey wipes her eyes along the sleeve of her shirt as Mando pulls away and begins his approach.

The Jawas begin pitching yet another fit and Kuiil stops Mando again, gesturing to his side. “Your blaster.” And Rey can see Mando pause in frustration before pulling out the blaster from its holster and dropping it onto the floor of the sled with a careless thump.

He turns and points his finger at Rey sternly then nods at the blaster. “Don’t touch.”

Then he approaches. He looked much more stiff than before, and most definitely angry.

He and Kuiil eventually sit down across from the Jawas, but they were too far away for Rey to hear any of the negotiations. She sat on her knees, hands braced against the sides of the tow so she can lean forward and strain to hear the conversation.

She takes it wasn’t going well when Mando tries lighting them on fire. Which… awesome… by the way.

And when a few Jawas creeped up on her and the baby, she frowned, nostrils flaring in anger at their audacity to approach when they’d stolen from her. She reached behind her for her staff just in case they tried to hurt the baby or anything else she might find distasteful. They spoke a few words she couldn’t understand, and she lifted her staff threateningly just in time to hear Mando’s angry roar at them to get away.

They quickly scuttled away from the sled, but Rey pulled the baby onto her lap and held the staff tightly in her hands just in case. The baby only cooed at her and played with the fabric of her vest.

It didn’t take long before the Jawas seemed happy with some sort of decision and began their loud chanting.

Soon they all quiet and start packing up their things to bring back into their ship. Rey’s heart leaps into her throat as one of them reaches for the helmet. But Mando stands and calls out to them, pointing at her helmet in the tiny Jawa’s hands.

It was a quick fold. She doesn’t know what he said, but they eagerly ran up to hand the helmet over to him. Kuiil stares at the helmet with an odd look, but Mando doesn’t speak to rectify his confusion as he turns to approach her and the child still waiting at the sled.

Rey grins up at him in relief. And when he’s close enough he places the oversized helmet onto her head and gives it a small pat. She places each hand on either side to secure it in place for a moment then throws her arms around the Mandalorian in thanks. She wasn’t so scared to upset him this time, especially when he was much quicker to return her affection with that awkward, yet familiar, pat on the back.

Then he lifts her off the sled and onto the ground, then turns to the child to transfer him to the pram. “We’re going with the Jawas. Stick close to me.”

She obeyed, grabbing the fringe of his cape and following him towards the large box on wheels.

~ Next Chapter ~

A/N: Let me know what you think! I’m also open to starting a tag list if anyone is interested so let me know XD

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texanredrose · 4 years ago

Note

Camellia Monochrome for an old friend?

Blake entered the throne room hurriedly, Weiss hardly two steps behind, and she only became more unnerved by what she saw. When the summons arrived, the faunus princess knew that it was important; her parents rarely sent an official messenger to find her and had never before specifically requested Weiss’ presence as well. It had to be something far outside the norm to prompt such and the full legion of royal guards flanking the throne room, decked out in full armor with their weapons on display. At the end of the hall on the dais, her parents sat on their thrones in full regalia, her father’s expression severe with his crown sitting low across furrowed brows while her mother appeared only slightly more at ease, her feline ears standing tall and far too still to be natural.

“Mom? Dad? What’s wrong?”

“Blake,” her father said, a heaviness to his tone. “We’ve received trouble news that may be... upsetting to hear but we believe it to be true.”

“We have diligently searched for any potential indication that there might be misinformation or falsehoods but there are none.” Her mother tilted her head slightly. “We have done our due diligence. You must listen to what we have to say.”

“Of course,” she replied, confused and uneasy.

With a heavy sigh, her father spoke again. “Your knight attendant was sent here to kill you. She’s an assassin, Blake.”

Although it probably shouldn’t, the accusation prompted relief and she couldn’t help but say the first thing that came to mind because of it. “I know that.”

In the silence that followed, one could hear a pin drop, if any dared to break it.

“You... know,” her mother finally said deliberately, ears twitching. “How long have you known?”

“Since a month after I arrived,” Weiss answered, waving off Blake’s attempt to do the talking. “I told Blake about my mission to assassinate the entire royal family when I realized I wouldn’t- and couldn’t- complete it.”

The royal guards surrounding them shifted uneasily, a few inching closer, looking to their king and queen for any sign that they should attack.

But the order didn’t come, even as her father’s expression became even more severe. “You’re bold to admit to such so openly.”

The woman shook her head. “No, for the same reason I can’t complete the mission I was charged with; it takes no courage to admit such here.” Then, she gave them a small, sad smile, the same one Blake had become rather familiar with during their time together. “All three of you... are kind, to a fault one might say. A hundred knights you have, this great show of force... but you would’ve had every right to arrest or execute me without so much as a word as to why. You didn’t do that. Because that’s not your way; you will defend yourselves but never take that first strike, even if it might save you from pain. So here we are, all truths laid bare, and a implicit understanding that if I raise my hand, your knights will react... but not a moment before.”

The King pressed his lips into a thin line. “Then, you must realize you will be banished from the kingdom-”

“Banished? For what?” Blake stepped forward, hands balling into fists. “She’s done nothing to warrant a banishment.”

“She’s literally an assassin, honey,” her mother gently said.

“A very poor one!” A pause as she turned her head. “No offense.”

“None taken,” Weiss wryly replied. “But they have a point. I’m a liability.”

“That’s not true.” Blake looked to her parents. “She told me the truth months ago; it was my decision to not tell either of you. Weiss has done nothing wrong.”

“Be that as it may, she did come here with the intent to kill us. That she’s changed her mind is... irrelevant.” Even as he said the word, she could tell her father didn’t like it and didn’t agree with the sentiment. It didn’t sit well with any of them, not when they spent so much time preaching and practicing forgiveness where applicable. “She’s an enemy of the crown.”

“I refuse to believe that.” She could feel her anger rising up, taking a step forward. “Does she not deserve a chance to redeem herself in your eyes?”

“Blake.”

With reluctance, she looked back, recognizing that tone of voice. It was the same one Weiss used whenever disagreeing so staunchly that no amount of discussion could sway her. Although a rarity nowadays, it came out whenever Blake suggested anything along the lines of reaching out to the woman’s family. Her refusal to complete the mission she’d been given had made her an enemy of her home kingdom and she could never return. There was no going back. “Weiss...”

Without responding, the woman strode forward towards the dais, stopping when the assembled knights began to fidget. Then, she knelt down and bowed her head. “I willingly submit myself to the judgment of the crown. My destiny is in your hands, Your Majesties.”

Her father shifted uncomfortably; it was always easier to enforce harsh penalties on the unrepentant because then it felt justified. Those who accepted their judgments with grace and dignity tugged at his desire to show mercy.

Her mother, however, seemed intrigued. “Your destiny? Not your fate?”

“There’s a difference?” The King muttered.

“Destiny is a function of choice; fate is beyond one’s individual control,” she replied. “And I believe you’re well read enough to know the difference.”

“I am, Your Majesty.” Weiss lifted her head and spoke with such a certainty that it made Blake hold her breath. “From the moment I met your daughter, I realized I was fated to love her and to be in love with her. My heart belongs to her completely and there’s nothing I can do to change that... nor would I want to, frankly. It is also my fate, then, to protect her from any harm; my very soul demands it.” A brief pause. “Whether or not I remain by her side... is a choice I can make. I could choose to defy your judgment and remain beside her but that would be the selfish option. Instead, I make the choice to continue loving her no matter what, no matter where I am, no matter if I ever see her again, and dedicate myself to keeping her safe from afar. If it is your decree that I am exiled, I choose to accept that destiny.”

Tears stung Blake’s eyes at the sincerity in the woman’s voice. While she’d lived all her life on the receiving end of unwavering, unconditional love, she knew Weiss hadn’t. For the woman to love so deeply- love her so deeply- touched her to the very core.

And she refused to let the declaration go unacknowledged.

Drawing her sword, Blake marched forward and walking around until she stood before Weiss, with her back to her parents. Blue eyes looked up at her questioningly but she didn’t hesitate, kneeling down and flipping the blade around, the tip of her it digging into the stone beneath them. “Draw your sword.”

“Blake-”

“Draw your sword,” she said again more forcefully, ignoring her parents’ warning.

Weiss did as asked and mirrored her position, their knuckles pressed against each other. From her forearm, Blake drew her ribbon and began winding it, entwining them together in a rite as old as her kingdom’s written history. Like marriage but more intricate, carrying more symbolism; the ribbon bound them in a way that escaped articulation but went beyond a mere promise of fidelity and support. If Weiss was fated to love her, then she would bind their souls together.

The various knights murmured their surprise but none dared interfere. Although her off hand struggled at points, the woman wordlessly offered her assistance, and together they completed the pattern.

“No matter where you are, in this world or the next, we are bound,” she said, resolute in her decision. “I love you, Weiss.”

“And I love you, Blake.” Weiss fought to keep her voice steady but failed as tears gathered in her eyes. “No matter what.”

Leaning forward, she caught the woman in a kiss. A thousand things they wanted to say had to be conveyed in the meeting of lips, for fear they might not get another chance, and when they pulled away, Blake could see so many emotions swirling in blue eyes. Despite how calmly she’d spoken before, Weiss was in pain at the thought of them being apart, just as much as her.

The King spoke, choosing his words carefully. “Have you protected her thus far from anyone aside yourself, Ser Knight?”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” Weiss replied. “I’ve killed seventeen assassins thus far.”

The Queen, once again, seemed keen on clarifying. “Are you counting the courtier from last week? The one who mysteriously disappeared after the feast?”

“My apologies, Your Majesty, that would be eighteen-” Then, Weiss’ eyes went wide, and Blake joined her in her surprise. Just as the woman’s mission to assassinate the royal family had been a secret, so too had Weiss’ actions to keep the royal family safe. Even Blake didn’t know the full extent of the things the woman did to take care of any threats.

“Stand down, guards, and return to your posts.”

Then, her mother appeared, a small smile on her lips as her ears relaxed. “We, perhaps, were a touch misleading earlier. We’ve known about your mission for a bit longer than Blake has.”

“You... have...”

“Mom?”

“You’ve never been shy about reminding us that you can take care of yourself,” she explained with a chuckle. “And we could tell from meeting her that she lacked the soul of an assassin. She isn’t the first sent to try and kill us, after all.”

Her father sighed in relief. “We thought you would’ve mentioned it to us; we didn’t want to bring it up first and potentially cause an argument.”

“But now that everything’s out in the open.” The Queen reached out and set her hand on theirs. “The crown recognizes your bond... and we welcome you to the family, Princess Weiss. Would you like a proper wedding as well or will the bond suffice?”

They both looked at each other as a moment of silence stretched, the situation sinking in until Weiss finally smiled widely.

“I would,” she said, a tear slipping from her eye and rolling down her cheek, the meaning of it changed entirely in a very short amount of time. “I would like nothing more than another chance to tell everyone how much I love you, Blake.”

That prompted a laugh to bubble up from her chest as it finally sunk in, relief flooding through her body. “I rather like the sound of that as well.”

---

AN: kinda a continuation from the other ask, but works well enough on its own I guess, idk, hope you enjoyed.

#TRR asks #Monochrome

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perseusjackson-jasongrace · 4 years ago

Text

the distance between daisies

This was a request from @supergaynerd i am so forever sorry it took me so long i just have not felt the words on my fingertips in ages. but it’s here and i hope you love it!

masterlist; my links; picture below

this is also on ao3

Dear diary,

he loves me

1 month, and 8 days.

Dear diary,

he loves me not

28 days

Dear diary,

he loves me

20 days, and 5 hours

Dear diary

he loves me not

17 days, and 6 hours.

Dear diary

he loves me

1 week and 2 hours

Percy is having a very uninteresting day. Which he supposes should make him happy since those are far and few between in his life. But something about the weather—windy and bone chilling, despite the shining sun— is putting him on edge. He's never wanted to go home and wrap himself in a blanket and call his boyfriend more. He can imagine it now, that soothing voice rumbling about something completely mundane. Jason won't even demand a reply of him. He'll just be content to talk softly about anything and listen to Percy's hum of agreement every so often.

He walks into his psych lecture, groaning internally when he remembers its a double, and for the first time since he was twelve years old he wishes anything would spurt from the depths of Tartarus, so he can fight it. The day has in fact been that unexciting.

Instead he finds a seat somewhere in the middle and puts his head down to the cool wood of the table. The wood is scratched in pen and engravings that mark students long since gone into the world. His finger traces fading words absent-mindedly, bumping across "She loves him she loves him not," scraped deep into the table, a dying daisy hanging over it.

The story he imagines comes to him in a flash.

He pulls out his diary, the black leather-bound book falling in front of him with a thud. Scrambling for a pen, he clicks once twice, three times.

Dear Diary,

They start at an arcade. Beating each other at whack-a-mole. Giving each other hard-won prizes. They share an ice-cream. Mint choc chip and vanilla. They have a story to tell at the wedding they keep dreaming up. They go to high school. They see each other in the halls and smile like sunshine. They go on summer break and pick daisies, pluck at them until there's nothing but stem. They start college. And the flowers they'd picked that one summer evening bleed into the wooden table where the memory of them would live forever. They pass each other across the fields. They don't say hello. They never said goodbye.

he loves me not

1 week, and 48 minutes.

Percy's hands are shaking slightly by the time he puts the pen down. The lecture hall is almost full by now, and the shuffling of last minute feet slide across his mind. He stuffs the diary back in his bag and twirls the pen around his finger. The class is antsy with the need to feel the weekend on their skin. Friday afternoon lectures always make people climb to the highest distractions. A group is chatting animatedly two rows above. A girl with wings etched into her skin sits one seat down and diagonal from him, frowning at the highlights on her page; her leg taps to the beat of "I want to go". On the other side there are people slurping coffee and gobbling down fries as they attempt to polish off the last of their lunch. Some in the front rows have their textbooks open, a hesitantly bored look on their faces. A guy in the very first row perks up every-time the door swings open; he is waiting for the lecturer; he doesn't want to get out of this he wants to get through it.

Percy drops his head back in his arms and takes deep stale breaths. He just has to survive 45 minutes. That's only three fifteen minutes, or four and a half ten minutes, or nine five minutes. He just has to get through five minutes nine times. He can do that. He got through Tartarus once and that's actually hell.

The lecture room door swings and when it clicks shut it feels more final. He doesn't bother to look up as the class slowly quiets to something resembling a humming beehive.

"Good afternoon," The professor begins. He hears the door open, and knows someone is trying to be careful as they slip in late. They sit down at the end of his row. He doesn't see them but he knows they're there. He can feel their presence like gentle heat and curiosity. He's too tired to look.

"Today were focusing on the executive functions and how their damage can affect our psychology."

Percy drifts in and out of focus as the professor drones on, mentioning memory and attention and dementia and recall. Words float around in his head. He can't catch any of them. He should probably try. He doesn't.

"Can anyone tell me why we can sometimes encode things but then not recall them?"

Hands go up all over the room. He knows the answer but since so many others do, it doesn't matter if he puts his hand up.

"Yes, in the green shirt, with the blonde hair." The professor calls.

"It may be because the retrieval methods we're trying to use may not work for that type of information or—"

Percy freezes in time. He goes back to the dinosaurs. He goes forward to the end. He becomes the entirety of the present itself.

Slowly, every so slowly he turns his head. And there, his row partner several seats away, in an emerald green shirt and golden hair swept into something resembling angelic, is Jason Grace.

He sputters, chokes on his disbelief, the shock tightens around his lungs.

The blonde finishes his answer and then turns to look directly at Percy. And everything in that lecture hall becomes mist.

There is no-one around them, there is nothing. There is only grey and flashes of lightning and the distant sound of an ocean.

"Hello baby," Jason whispers, floating towards him, setting himself down on his table.

"You're here." This can't be real. This is Hera playing tricks. This is his mind finally too exhausted to keep the disillusion at bay. This is not real.

And hand, warm and gentle, cups Percy's cheek. And he knows nothing has ever been more real in his life.

"You're here." He whispers, he can't say it enough. "Why are you here? You aren’t supposed to be here till next week."

Jason presses their foreheads together, somewhere around them lightning strikes. It mirrors in those blue eyes. "You were getting bad again."

He always knows. He always knows. Three thousand miles apart and he knows.

"I wasn't." Percy shakes his head, hands finding indents on strong thighs. "I was just missing you."

"Your eyes are dark, like undergrowth, like dying seaweed." Those slim fingers cup his jaw, tilting his head from side to side. "Where are the oceans that live there?“

"The nightmares," He sighs, "They're bad."

"How long?" The question is simple but it makes Percy's heart screech to a stop.

"Four weeks."

"Oh baby," Jason's eyes shatter, "Why didn't you tell me?"

"There's nothing we can do." His shoulders are shaking, he doesn't quite know if he's crying, he wouldn't be surprised. "But you're here and right now that's all that matters."

"Let's leave for a little while." Jason whispers into his skin.

"Where?"

"You and your mom still have that cabin in Montauk?"

He nods, breathing in the scent of fresh rain and jasmine soap. The scent of his boyfriend. The scent of safety.

"Lets go there." The blonde is saying. "We'll come back the day before your birthday so you can spend it with the family, but let's escape before that."

“Okay," He doesn't even hesitate.

"Really, you'll go?" Jason squeezes his shoulder, excitement shining in his eyes.

"Anywhere in the world as long as its with you." He kisses his boyfriend. Soft and sweet and thank you spread across their tongues.

"Want to finish this lecture?" The blonde mumbles against his mouth.

Percy snorts, already shoving stationery into his bag. "Let's have an adventure, Jason Grace."

"Let's."

They escape through the haze, horses already forming from storms itself, and become everything the world has to offer.

And when the mist in the lecture room clears there's a single row empty and a new engraving in the wooden table.

Our love is not daisies it is entire gardens.

Dear diary,

he loves me

Now.

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

[image id: a grey background with black all-caps text that reads, “come back. come back to me.” end id]

#Jercy #Percy Jackson #Jason grace #PJJG fanfic #Request #Percy #Jackson #Jason #Grace

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spell-cleaver · 5 years ago

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DAY 25: WHUMPTOBER: I Think I’ll Just Collapse Right Here, Thanks - Disorientation | Ringing Ears @whumptober2020

The Pirate Son Masterpost

It began with the sounds of winds picking up, then shots being fired.

Luke sat bolt upright in bed, clenching his teeth and hissing at the pain it invoked in his back. Something was wrong. He could feel in it the way magic moved, sluggishly, around him, with a foreboding that stank of a tipping point, and he barely hesitated to shove his feet into boots—untied, because he couldn’t manage that sort of motor function when tired, in the dark and in pain—before he reached the door and stumbled out.

The wind that seeped into the corridor below here cut him like a knife and he shivered, but kept pushing forwards, until he hit the stairs and dragged himself up, almost on all fours. He could still hear shouting, hear shots fired, and then—

“You want us to leave!? Then give our friend back, bastard!”

Oh no.

Oh, seas and stars.

“Leia!?” he yelled, and dragged himself up the steps even faster. The shouting stopped for a moment, in stunned silence, then he yelled again: “Leia!”

He emerged onto the deck to a scene of utter carnage.

The deck was scorched black in some places, smeared with blood in others, littered with stacks and splinters of wood. Barrels were rolling across with every tilt of the ship like some mad pendulum, marking the motions Luke barely even noticed anymore, but it was still a hard job with injuries to dodge them as he forged onward, to where more barrels had been stacked up as a makeshift shield that Vader and his crew were battering at with pistols and behind it—

Luke’s face split into a grin when a face ducked out from behind the shelter long enough to be recognised. “Leia!”

She stared—something between wonder, shock and terror on her face, before she forced herself to her feet when she saw him hobble right into the path of gunfire, straight for her. “Luke!”

“Luke!” Vader snapped, one last stray bullet whistling past Luke’s ear, then to his men, for all that they’d already stopped firing: “Cease fire! Luke, step away from the stowaways, do not get in the way—”

Luke wasn’t listening. As he got closer, Chewie erupted from behind the barrels and seized him in a massive hug.

He cried out in pain—“Hey, hey, watch it, buddy, my back’s injured!”—but just ended up laughing out loud when Chewie set him down on his feet again, and he was a little unsteady. His back was in uproar now, his head pounding and ears ringing with it, but he clung to his friend and grinned up at him. “You’re—”

“Alive,” Leia growled, grabbing his arm. She didn’t hug him—she was eyeing his back, his ginger gait, and seemed to decide against it, but she clasped their hands together and pressed her forehead against his. He leaned into her touch. “I… We set sail the moment we heard about Bespin, but when we heard about the execution—”

“I’m fine,” Luke assured her, squeezing her hand. “I promise you. I’m fine.”

“Then why is your back injured?” Leia asked pointedly.

Luke swallowed.

Han came out from behind the barrels, Wedge covering him with the pistol. But Luke glanced at his father and his men: they were all watching him closely, Vader with increasingly stiff body language. They wouldn’t fire on them—not so long as Luke was nearby.

That didn’t stop Wedge from pointing his pistol at them the whole time, his gaze narrowed and suspicious, as Han clapped Luke on the shoulder so hard he nearly fainted right there.

“Hey, boss,” Wedge said—somehow chirpily and suspiciously at the same time. “We’re here to rescue you.”

There… there was so much to unpack in that statement. His friends had sailed hundreds of miles after they’d heard that he’d been captured, on the off chance that he’d still be alive, on the off chance that he’d escaped the hanging ceremony with his neck intact, on the slightest, slimmest thread of hope that he was still there to be rescued. They’d— they’d stowed away aboard Vader’s ship, presumably at that point yesterday when Vader had stopped very briefly at a backwater port to restock supplies, they’d stowed away on the most heavily, fiercely defended ship on the seas, and they’d engaged in a shootout with undead beings in order to get to him…

Luke beamed.

And then he teared up and threw his arms around Han so suddenly he nearly dropped his pistol.

“Thank you,” he sobbed.

“Hey, kid.” Han awkwardly patted his back—evidently remembering what he’d said to Chewie about the injuries—and then gripped his shoulder in a gentle hug back. “Of course we came for ya.”

Luke buried his face in his chest.

“And we’re going to get you out,” Leia declared, loudly and boldly—looking Vader straight in the eye. His father tightened his grip on the sword at his hip.

“Thank you, Leia,” Luke whispered. He saw Vader grow utterly rigid…

Then he said, “But that’s not necessary.”

And he saw Vader relax again.

Leia stared at him, then—took in the fine night clothes, finer than anything of a sailor, the thick bandages, and seemed to finally wonder how, if he’d been in a cell, he’d been able to come out to meet them so fast. Han and Chewie frowned, and Wedge just looked confused.

“Father,” Luke called. Leia, Chewie and Han looked perplexed but not surprised—he’d told them the terrible truth of what he knew immediately after that first altercation they’d had with him, years ago—but Wedge’s jaw dropped like an anchor. “Lay down your weapons. I think… I think it’s time we all talked.”

Vader bit out, “They can talk perfectly well in a cell.”

Luke smiled wryly and parried, “But the saloon would be so much more comfortable.”

Vader let out a hissing sigh… then gestured to his men to lower their guns.

“Take them down there,” he growled. “And we will discuss it further. But I am not happy to have them on my ship.”

“Well, I am.” He laced his fingers through Leia’s and gave her a gentle smile—he could feel his father’s intense gaze on him from here. “We… have a lot to explain. Let’s go.”

He made to take a step—and hit the deck. He jarred his elbows against the wood.

He hadn’t done up his laces.

His head had already been spinning.

Leia rolled her eyes. “Chewie, carry him.” Luke didn’t even protest as he was picked up, and again he sensed his father’s jealous gaze—was he remembering Luke’s vehemence that he not so much as touch him?—on them all the way into the bowels of the ship.

The conversation that followed was not easy—but it was, by far, worth it.

#the pirate son #thepirateson #my writing #random words on a page #luke skywalker #leia organa #han solo #wedge antilles #chewbacca #darth vader #for darkness shows the stars #space twins #flyboys #flash fiction #flash fiction: star wars #whumptober2020 #whumptober

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mor-beck-more-problems · 4 years ago

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Fight Them || Morgan & Mina

TIMING: Current, shortly after Morgan’s run-in with Dani on campus

PARTIES: @drowningisinevitable @mor-beck-more-problems

SUMMARY: Morgan comes home, still reeling from Dani’s attack, where she is found by Mina.

“It’s never going to stop, is it?”

CONTAINS: panic attack

It was a little after ten by the time Morgan made it to her house and stepped out of the car and stood frozen in the middle of the walkway. She was fine. She had all her body parts and after three pointless detours around town, she convinced herself that there was no way the hunter girl had followed her home. She was fine. The windows glowed with warm light and the purple-white glare from the TV in the great room. She could imagine Deirdre carelessly tipping the delivery driver fifty dollars and Bex sorting out the food and Mina’s face when she got her sushi and the cringes and the small talk and the whole wonderful nothing of dinner at home in the kitchen. She was fine. Any minute now, she would shuffle forward and open the door and call out to them and Deirdre would know just how tight to hold her and she would be fine.

But Morgan’s feet would not bring her any closer to her front door. If she moved anywhere except down to her knees, it would be around the side, where she would pass the kitchen windows and the paper cartons strewn on the counters on her way to her garden, her studio, her shed. It was as if that girl’s hand was still around her throat, pinning her down, ready to cut her existence away. The night wind billowed, making the grass sing in whispers and reminding her how alone, how vulnerable she was, standing alone in the dark with her back turned to the street.

Morgan turned and marched around the side of the house until she was through the fence and staggering toward the back porch. Her chest burned, collapsing inward. There was no lung function to disrupt and so no hyperventilating to make her dizzy, her breath simply stuck in place and the fear boxed away in her spilled out of her in taut muscles and trembling hands. Morgan bent over, too tired to do anything but let her hurt take her, and opened her mouth to cry out. Only the faintest croak rattled out of her breathless lips. She clawed her throat, hearing the echoes of her own pleas in her ear, and sank to her knees at last, wheezing and whimpering all the way to the ground. She was fine. She was home. All she’d wanted was to be able to come home and now she was home, so everything was fine...

Mina had left the house early, claiming a late night swim before bed and managing to stave off any curiosity that Bex might have to stick around. All she really ended up doing is soaking, something that she probably could have done in the tub but wanted just a bit more space to do. She wasn’t even shifted much, just the patchy amount of scales broken out. She’d been about to get out anyway when she heard whimpering, crying. Pulling herself up, Mina proceeded towards the porch until she saw Morgan curling in on herself. “Morgan?” She’d never heard Morgan make that sound, and Mina didn’t know what to do. For a second, she just stood there, eyes wide, unsure of what she was supposed to do. But then Morgan started clawing at her throat, and Mina leapt forward. “Morgan!” She reached out, trying to pull Morgan’s hands away. “Hey, hey, Morgan. Can you hear me? Morgan? What happened? What’s wrong?” She looked for marks before she realized that she probably wouldn’t find any. Zombie healing took away most forms of outward harm. “Morgan, please, breathe. Please breathe. Please breathe.”

Morgan heard her name as if from inside the house, but her hands were being moved, she was being pulled again, and what if she wasn’t fast enough this time? She sat up and tried to pull away, her frightened cry coming out in broken squeaks. But it was only Mina. Morgan slumped, still shaking but no longer fighting, and at the girl’s bidding, her lungs opened and the sobs that had been trapped inside her spilled out. What had happened? The same thing that always happened. The same thing that would keep happening, until one day it stuck. Morgan tried to breathe. When she was alive, breathing had always been a dependable comfort, but the more she tried, the harder she shook and sobbed. Morgan couldn’t even lift her head to look at Mina. It felt wrong to throw this at her feet, to make her carry this with her, but she couldn’t even sit up on her own, how was she supposed to keep it together long enough to get inside? Morgan shook her head and prayed to the earth that Mina knew how ashamed she was, how much she didn’t want this for either of them.

At last, in a voice warped with tears, she said, “There was a hunter. On campus. S-she knew...I didn’t tell her anything, I’d never seen her, she just knew. What I am. I was j-just leaving the building. I just wanted to come home...” She shivered and shrank inward, hating the plaintive sound of her voice, how she couldn’t seem to stop begging.

There was that moment when Mina almost panicked because of course she shouldn’t have just reached out and touched Morgan like that without asking, but then Morgan slumped forward, and Mina grabbed her under the arms and hugged her, held her, as she cried. This was terrifying. She’d never seen Morgan this upset. Morgan was so strong, always, in Mina’s eyes. She’d never watched Morgan break like this and shatter in so many places. Swallowing tightly, Mina attempted to soothe the older woman, remembering how Morgan had comforted her before. She could do this. This was something that she could do.

“There’s a slayer on campus?” she asked. She wondered if it was the same slayer, Bex’s slayer, the one that saved her from the vampire. This wasn’t fair. There couldn’t be a slayer out there that saved one of Mina’s favorite people while hurting another one. That wasn’t fair. “It’s okay. It’s okay. She won’t come here. She’s not going to come here.” She moved them a bit, tried to keep Morgan from caving in. “She won’t come here, but, if she does, Deirdre and I won’t let anything happen to you. Okay? We won’t. It’s not happening.”

Morgan didn’t have the strength to tell Mina she was sorry for crying on her, that this wasn’t her job, that she wanted to protect her too, and if she could just get inside and see the warm lights from the great room, she might finally feel safe. The only thing she could manage between repeating some variation of what she’d already said was more cries, until her voice buckled. Then she quieted and forced her eyes open to look at the world around her while her body continued to release its panic. Thousands of blades of grass, one freshwater pool fostering plant life, one nix who had done so much for her that she would never be able to repay, two steps to the front porch. Three clouds in the sky, one moon, ten constellations she’d made up with Deirdre. She went around like that, counting the chimes that tinkled in the wind, the rustles from night bugs, the points of pressure from Mina’s grasp that she could actually feel, until the rest of her quieted and she only felt dull and hollow.

“I almost made it out on my own. I bought myself time, and then I didn’t,” she mumbled. “If it wasn’t for the fucking face-stealer, I wouldn’t...I wouldn’t…” Be here. With Mina. With anything. “I don’t want it to be your job to protect me. I don’t want the last thing I hear to be someone telling me I stopped existing the moment I died. That I deserve to be executed.” She breathed, chest shaking. “Did your dad’s friends ever tell you stories about people like me?”

“There’s really no way to prepare for something like this,” Mina said. “I’m just glad you made it out.” Her eyes widened. “There was a face-stealer, too?” Okay, alright. One problem at a time. She took a deep breath. “You’re here. You’re here. You’re here.” Mina didn’t know what she’d do if Morgan wasn’t here, if the slayer had succeeded. Would she have gone after a slayer, a human, to avenge a zombie? Would she really do that? Would she so firmly disregard her training in that way? Yes. The voice in the back of her head was tiny, but it was hers, and it was honest. She would. She would. She didn’t want to think on that too hard, didn’t want to think on the fact that she couldn’t avenge her father’s murder but would Morgan’s in a heartbeat. She didn’t want to know what that meant. Maybe it meant that she was as much of a monster as she’d always believed. Maybe it meant something else.

“It’s not my job to protect you. I want to. There’s a difference.” Mina knew this. This was about more than duty. She pulled away a bit, trying to look Morgan in the eye. “My dad’s friends were wrong. My dad was wrong. If they’d met you, they’d know that. He would know that.” The words didn’t sit well. Then, quieter, “I’ve seen zombies before.” She knew how to take down zombies, too. She’d never had to, didn’t want to, but she had the knowledge. That’s what happened when your dad wanted to be able to take one whatever, whenever, for however much was offered.

Morgan could only meet Mina’s eyes for a few moments before becoming too embarrassed of how broken she looked. “I tried to tell her…” she swallowed thickly. “To explain that I wasn’t what she thought I was. That I was a person. It was the first thing I tried…” And if it had accomplished anything at all, it had just made the slayer even more determined to kill her. It was too important to the rationalization bedtime stories some hunters told themselves. Of course they needed to stamp out any challenge they heard to that. Of course they’d try to double down. Morgan shivered, and decided to let Mina keep her own illusions; at least those were full of hope. “Were they starving, like the ones you see on TV, the zombies you saw? Or were they...like me?”

“Sometimes, they can’t hear,” Mina said, quietly. “Or they-- they-- they don’t want to hear. They don’t want-- They can’t-- To think of you as a person,” To think of myself as a person, “Is for them to completely rewrite everything that they know, that they were taught, and it’s not possible for some people because if they slowed down and they listened and they heard, they would know that you’re good and a person and that you’re not going to hurt them.” And some zombies were bad because not everyone could be a Morgan and try to live alternatively and eat animal brains cooked like a person. Not everyone did that. It was hard to explain that, especially to someone who always wanted to see the worst. How readily Mina had just… accepted Morgan as Morgan. How readily she’d accepted that Morgan could be a person, that Ari could be a person. Deirdre. They were people, and she knew that now, and maybe there was a part of her that had always wanted to see supernaturals as people but just didn’t know how. Still didn’t know how, sometimes.

Mina looked at Morgan, looked away. “They looked like you.” There’d been one man, and Mina would have never known what he was if it wasn’t for the slayer with them letting them know he was a draugr. He was old and young at the same time. He looked so tired. When they’d cornered him, Mina had looked away. She almost always looked away. “They just looked like people, but we were told they were dangerous people, and they needed to be-- So they were.”

Morgan knew what Mina was going to say before she even began. How many dinners in Texas had gone quiet when she brought up the hate crimes in Montrose or the attempts to give places the right to turn away queer couples from their apartment complexes and churches and schools and bakeries. If there was ever a real person in those discussions, and not just some hateful, fear-stricken idea, it wouldn’t be so easy. They might have to feel like a bad person. They might have to regret half their whole life in one go. And in a world that nurtured so little forgiveness, they couldn’t handle that, could they?

And with how Mina was brought up, with how her father had made her promise to be like him on pain of death, she wasn’t surprised that Mina had helped kill zombies like her, who died frightened, alone, and in so much despair. She nodded, accepting this, and sank a little further. “...It’s never going to stop, is it? It doesn’t even matter to them that I hate what human brains do to me, that I didn’t choose this, that I don’t even want to hurt anyone, much less…” She breathed deep, her breath still trembling with sobs waiting to burst. Then again. Then again. When she spoke again, her voice was firm. “Will you teach me? How to fight like them? Because I don’t want this either. I don’t want to spend the rest of my existence waiting for someone to find me and break me like I’m an abomination from hell, like I’m a thing made to be crushed. I need to be able to do better the next time this happens. I need to know I can make it home. You offered to show me once: no holding back, for either of us. Do you still mean that?”

Was it ever going to stop? Mina didn’t know. She didn’t think so, and she hated that. “They don’t-- They don’t know. They just don’t know. They don’t want to know.” She breathed in with Morgan, swallowing down bile. None of the people that she grew up with would see Morgan as a person. None of them. She wouldn’t have, over a year ago. She didn’t know what she would have done, if she’d known Morgan as a zombie before she knew her as a human. She might have found a slayer to deal with the situation. She might have never listened to Morgan about anything that she’d tried to tell Mina about supernaturals and life and just being a person. She probably still wouldn’t believe that she was a person. She took a deep breath. “I’ll teach you. I’m not losing you to people who don’t understand and refuse to listen.” She squeezed Morgan’s hand tightly. “There’s no learning to fight like them. You can’t. They were made to fight you.”

Mina’d had to learn that from wardens. She could mimic them all she wanted, but that wasn’t teaching her to fight them, just like them. “You have to learn to fight them.” She didn’t know how to fight back, only to hold her ground until she could escape. It looked like they’d both be teaching each other something. “But I did mean it. No holding back. You’re going to learn how to make sure you can always make it home.” Maybe she was damning herself, teaching a supernatural how to fight back against hunters. Maybe this was the ultimate step in the wrong direction. Maybe she didn’t care.

Morgan squeezed Mina’s hand in turn. Fight them. It didn’t sound so just-in-caseies like that. There was nowhere to hide what she wanted, how many Good Little Zombie rules she’d be breaking, how much she would be disappointing Remmy, or how much of the world she wanted to believe in might crumble away.

Gold lamplight splashed into the yard. Morgan flinched, whimpering, then she lifted her gaze to the windows. There was Bex in her pajamas, her hand still on the master switch, gaping with fear. She said a word and out of the shadows stepped Deirdre. Morgan let go of Mina’s hand to reach for her and toppled against the nix instead, too overwhelmed to remember how to balance. Deirdre was in her black robe, the one Morgan had gotten for her because it had bats and tombstones on the inside, and her hair looked damp from her shower. She was so beautiful in the most ordinary way, Morgan started to cry all over again, thinking of her swallowed by eternal nothing alongside the girls she loved so much.

Bex and Deirdre ran for the nearest door and as they knocked past each other and dashed into the garden, Morgan realized how much they looked like they’d known each other for so much longer, like they belonged in the house together.

“The hunters think I was made to fight them. Maybe I can prove them right,” she rasped, her eyes still on Bex and Deirdre, coming closer and calling her name. She swallowed thickly and hid her last words in Mina’s shoulder, audible only to the two of them. “Meet me at seven, just after sunrise. No holding back.”

Then she was surrounded, hands all over her face, bodies pressed against her back, familiar voices mixing into worried noise, and the only thing Morgan wanted more than the power to cut down anything that would take her away from this (all she loved, all she had, all that could be) was the power to hold everyone close to her at once and carry them safe inside.

#fight them #wr mina #wr chatzy #wr mina chatzy

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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May 7, 2021: TRON (1982)

Starting to leave lo-fi sci-fi with this one.

Can I just say, I am VERY excited for this one. Mostly because it’s hard to get more ‘80s than this movie, specifically in terms of computers. I’ll explain. Y’know Jurassic Park? Yeah, the same movie I’ve brought up far, FAR too many times this month. Is...is that my favorite sci-fi movie? Shit, it might be? I’ve read the books, I’ve seen the movie COUNTLESS times...I’m pretty sure it is! Huh. Go figure. Anyway, where was I?

Oh, right! Remember the most irritating character in the movie? This is, in my opinion, older sister Lex Murphy. In the book, for the record, she’s a VERY different character. She’s the youngest sibling amongst the two, and she’s a sports nerd who hates dinosaurs. And she’s also the most annoying character in the book, so at least they kept that consistent. However, you may be saying to yourself: “Jesus, this dude really loves Jurassic Park. Even in the intro for Tron, he’s talking about it. Why the hell does he keep bringing it up?”

Well, allow me to explain. When I was 9 years old, I was super into two things: dinosaurs and reading. You may think that I wasn’t very popular in school as a result. And the truth won’t surprise you. Anyway, on January 3rd, 2001, it was a cold morning in the supermarket when

...OK, lemme get to the point. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM!

See, this moment when Lex hacks into the computer to reactivate the locks (a task given to Tim in the book, but whatever) does two things. One, it makes Lex relevant in a film and story where she’s almost entirely unneeded. And two, it established something in the minds of movie-watchers everywhere: a completely misguided idea of what computer programming is.

And this is just one of MANY examples of Hollywood weirdly representing computers to the public. This was kind of a trend throughout the ‘80s and ‘90s, as computers were beginning to become available to the public. Examples are:

WarGames (1983), dir. John Badham

Terminator 2: Judgment Day (1991), dir. James Cameron

Revenge of the Nerds (1984), dir. Jeff Kanew

Weird Science (1985), dir, John Hughes

Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014), dir. Russo Bros

That last one isn’t a great example, and it’s not even within the right time period. I just love Arnim Zola, and he NEEDS TO RETURN to the MCU. Goddamn it, I want this guy back, complete with his full robot body! COME ON FIEGE, LOOK AT THIS GUY! That last one may or may not be my fanart for the character with my own design NEVERTHEGODDAMNLESS!

Look, all you gotta do is connect the various machinations of Arnim Zola to the foundations of AIM, which is easy given their link in the comics. Zola and his fellow Paperclip scientists helped fund Aldrich Killian’s AIM, and the project to give Zola his sick-ass robot body eventually wound up being a part of the project that would create the hovering robotic chair used by this guy.

THIS IS ALL I’VE EVER WANTED PLEASE

...Ahem.

Anyway, the weird-ass ways that Hollywood’s represented computers, hacking, and all other associated things can be traced back to 1982, when the first film to use mostly computer generated imagery for its setting was created. This was, of course, Disney’s TRON. And while I haven’t seen it before...I’ve see its sequel in theaters?

On a related note, Tron Legacy might be a mediocre film with a mediocre soundtrack, but GODDAMN DO IT LOVE THE FUCKING VISUALS. It’s genuinely my favorite aesthetic. That whole “outlined in light” thing? Goooooooh, BABY, how I love it.

Style over substance, but OH THE FUCKING STYLE

Anyway, despite that, I’m looking forward to seeing where the whole thing came from. I dig that style, too. Is there a name for those aesthetics? Let me know, so I can devote my life to it forever. Anyway, shall we get started?

SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

So, we start this movie off with a BANG, jumping into an arcade where two kids are playing none other than Lightcycle, and jumping into said Lightcycles to meet one of the drivers, Sark (David Warner). A sadistic program, he takes great pleasure in executing programs in Lightcycle races.

One of these programs, in fact, is being brought into imprisonment now, to be set against Sark in a race. The program, Crom (Peter Jurasik), speaks with fellow prisoner Ram (Dan Shor), where we get some idea of the lore of this place. Many programs believe in “the Users”, god-like figures who they believe created them and tell them what to do. However, the mysterious Master Control Program is rounding up the programs that believe in Users, taking over their functions or executing them. Diggin’ the lore so far.

In the real world, we meet Kevin Flynn (Jeff Bridges), a computer programmer commanding his own program, Clu (also Bridges), and...look, I’m not sure what they’re doing, but OHHH. IT’S A UNIX SYSTEM, BABY. The beautiful bullshit that this movie uses to denote computer activity and programming, it’s...MMMMMMMMMCHEF’SKISS, it’s so FUCKING GOOD!

Anyway, Clu’s apparently being sent to find some information, but he’s caught by Master Control. Jeff Bridges shows off some pretty over-the-top acting, but it’s charming as hell. Clu’s interrogated by Master Control Program (also Warner), and killed, or “derezzed”. This frustrates Flynn, but why?

Well, we get a clue from MCPs concentration with Ed Dillinger (David Warner), who arrives at his office in the COOLEST FUCKING HELICOPTER I HAVE EVER SEEN. I will never make enough money to have this helicopter, but maybe one day I can do it to a car, holy shit. Anyway, Dillinger lands and enters the ENCOM building, where he speaks with his computer table, which contains MCP.

Is this a thing with computer programmers? Do they, like, physically talk to their programs, and the programs talk back? Is this a thing that happens? Are the conversations interesting? Are IT people literally computer-whisperers? I gotta talk to my friends in computer sciences and IT about this.

Apparently, Flynn’s been snooping around their servers for a specific file, and they’re trying to stop him from getting that file. Meanwhile, in an office in the building, a man named Alan Bradley (Bruce Boxleitner) is blocked out of the system in an attempt to flush out Flynn’s location. Bradley’s summoned to the office for what seems like a routine interview, but is actually more of an investigation. Doesn’t go anywhere.

On a side note, by the way, it would appear that MCP is somewhat in control of Dillinger. Although, how and why is unknown. In any case, he’s attempting to amass power. Additionally, the fact that he’s directly speaking to one of the Users is...interesting. And on a second side note, Bradley is preparing something, a security program called “Tron”. That might come up later.

MEANWHILE, elsewhere in the building, a group of scientists are conducting an experiment to digitize solid matter and transport it into computers. It succeeds with an orange, much to their delight and celebration. One of these scientists is Lora Baines (Cindy Morgan), Flynn’s ex-girlfriend and Alan’s current girlfriend. They go to the arcade to reconvene with Flynn, much to Alan’s irritation.

Flynn not only owns the place, he’s also a game whiz, brilliant computer programmer, and recently fired ex-employee of ENCOM. He’s also been sneaking into the ENCOM system, and he details exactly why he’s moving against them. While working for ENCOM, he had started writing programs for some very complex video games, which could’ve have made him quite a bit of money. But Dillinger stole his files, and uses it to climb up the ranks to Senior Executive of ENCOM, while Flynn lounges in relative poverty. He’s planning on getting into the system to get evidence of Dillinger’s wrongdoing.

The trio plots to take down Dillinger and get the evidence together, breaking into ENCOM that night. Meanwhile, Dillinger’s meeting with Walter Gibbs (Barnard Hughes), a co-founder of the company, and one of the other scientists who made the digitizing machine. Dillinger says YOUR TIME IS OVER OLD MAN, and brushes off his concerns about he’s handing the company.

He’s not the only one with issues, as MCP decides to take over FOR Dillinger. Apparently, Dillinger’s talents are stealing data and creating Cybernet/HAL 9000. Good job, buddy. But that may end, when Alan goes to finish and install his program, Tron, which will hopefully take MCP down. Meanwhile, Lora and Flynn go to the basement with the digitizing machine. At the computer terminal, MCP decides to stop Flynn by...well, you know where this is headed.

Yup! Flynn’s brought into the computer by Lora’s machine, and is digitized and put into the game grid. And since we’ll be spending a lot of time there, I think I need to acknowledge something: I really love how this movie looks. The CGI is rudimentary, but it’s used surprisingly well. Consider that this is also made in an era where this is the kind of imagery that computers could literally generate at the time, and you’ve got a pretty great movie in-context.

Flynn, now in those spiffy program duds, is sent by the MCP to compete in the Game Grid, under Sark’s supervision and tutelage. He’s thrown into the brig with the other imprisoned programs, where he learns more about this world. Once brought into the throes of the Game Grid, he’s told that those who believe in the Users are to be trained poorly, ensuring their inevitable death. Meanwhile, those who renounce their belief will be spared. And of all the programs who still believe in the Users, there is none quite as powerful...as Tron (Bruce Boxleitner again).

We see Tron’s badass skills in Ultimate Frisbee. And OK, it’s not Ultimate Frisbee, but you throw discs that contain all of your essence and all of the things you’ve learned in your time there. You basically pour your entire essence and being into the disc as you throw it. So, really, it is Ultimate Frisbee, according to that one dude who’s REALLY into Ultimate Frisbee.

Flynn is commanded to play one of these games, and he winds fairly easily. However, when he defeats his opponent, he’s almost about to die. However, Flynn refuses to finish him off, leading Sark to do so instead. And Sark is tempted to kill Flynn as well, but he holds off at the last moment.

Flynn finally gets to meet Tron, where he feigns being a program that knows of his User, Alan. Of course, Tron looks exactly like Alan, which is why Flynn blurts out his name. But as they’re discussing this, Flynn, Tron, and fellow prisoner Ram are sent to compete in the Lightcycles. And, yes, I’m now looking for a game like this on my phone, because GODDAMN to I love Lightcycles. Can’t WAIT for the Disney World ride, oh my GOOOOD.

So, our guys get in the Lightcycles, and they outmaneuver Sark’s guys. They’re actually able to escape the arena and the Game Grid, making it outside the citadel. They encounter a, uh, bitstream, and soak up some energy before moving on. On the way, though, they’re nearly killed by Sark’s guys in tanks, and Tron is separated from Flynn an the unconscious Ram.

Flynn and Ram finds a place to rest and hide, and Flynn discovers that, as a User, he actually has the ability to somewhat manipulate the reality within the computer, and he makes a version of MCPs ships, the Recognizers, which resemble the villains in Flynn’s game that Dillinger stole. Now realizing that Flynn is a user, Ram asks him to help Tron, before dying and disappearing into pure code. Whoof.

Tron, meanwhile, ends up finding an input/output program named Yori (Cindy Morgan), who helps him in his escape. She takes him through the city, where we see some interesting designs for control programs, almost like a Hunger Games Panem sort of deal.

Flynn has trouble driving his ship, as he meets a “bit”, a small bit of data that only answers in yes or no. He, too, ends up in the city, and you start to notice that this film has a really heavy influence in our cyberpunk concepts and fashions today. Honestly, I really dig this whole thing. Kevin uses his programming powers to disguise himself as one of Sark’s guards, while Yori and Tron find their way through the main citadel of the guards.

They make their way through to the access tower, where they ask the program Dumont (Barnard Hughes again) to let them access the interface that will allow them to speak with the Users, specifically Alan. Reluctantly, Dumont agrees to let Tron through, where he goes to the access port. Which, for the record, looks awesome. He goes to speak with Alan, and he does that one pose. Y’know, the famous Tron pose that’s on the poster?

Yeah, that’s the good stuff. Anyway, he gets information written onto his disc that’ll allow him to kill MCP. Neat. And unfortunately, that’s exactly when Sark and his guys show up, taking Dumont away as Tron and Yori escape. Yori gets them onto a Solar Sailer, a device that will transport them to the central computer. Tron fends off some of Sark’s guys with video game noise kicks, and the Solar Sailer arrives to take them away.

Sark chases after them, but the pair manage to outrun his very cool-looking ship. MCP threatens to destroy Sark for his failure, but he promises that he’ll be able to get them. On the ship, Tron looks down at the side to see Flynn hanging on. Turns out that he was one of the guards that attacked the two. Tron pulls him up onto the ship, and Flynn reveals that he is, in fact, a user. He also reveals that Users aren’t exactly the gods that programs believe them to be.

Anyway, how’s Dumont doing?

Ah.

Well, the Recognizers find Tron, Yori, and Flynn, and chase after them on the light beam the Solar Sailer is on. However, with his User powers, Flynn manages to get the Sailer onto a different beam, while pulses on the original beam destroy the Recognizers.

Doesn’t end up mattering much, though, as Sark finally catches up and intercepts the group. The Solar Sailer is destroyed, and Yori and Flynn are thrown in the brig with Dumont, who’s still alive! Can’t say quite as much for Tron, apparently. But, again, I can only assume that Ton is still alive. We’ll see, though. Sark denies Flynn’s identity as a User for some reason (I mean, MCP told you who he was, but OK), and he sentences them all to death. Outside the ship, of course, is Tron, who’s hiding and waiting for the right time to strike. And that is when we finally see him.

Glorious. Absolutely goddamn glorious. MCP is taking the remaining programs that believe in Users, Dumont included, and incorporating them into his mass. Meanwhile, Sark has found Tron, and the two are fighting with a classic game of Ultimate Frisbee. Tron nearly defeats Sark entirely, but MCP revives him, and gives him the power to take out Tron. He grows gigantic, and it looks genuinely really convincing.

Flynn prepares to take out MCP once and for all, and kisses Yori just beforehand, which is weird as shit. He jumps into the program, and controls it just long enough for Tron to throw his disc at it and land the finishing blow. And with that, MCP is ended, and the threat of take over is gone! The I/O towers light up, and the Video Warriors have won! Don’t ask me what that means, I study birds.

And with ALL OF THAT DONE, Flynn gets the proof he needs from a print-out that, to be honest, I feel like he could’ve just typed up himself. It doesn’t look like that much. But, still, MCP is gone, Dillinger’s screwed, and Flynn now gets a cool-looking helicopter of his own, as the new CEO of ENCOM. And from there, he will become a deadbeat dad that abandons his kid to live in computers forever. Or something like that, it’s been a while since I’ve seen Tron Legacy.

And that’s Tron, a goofy movie of its time, but one that’s a lot of fun all the same. And with some effects that, to be honest...I actually really liked! But more on that...IN THE REVIEW! See you there!

#tron #tron 1982 #steven lisberger #jeff bridges #bruce boxleitner #david warner #cindy morgan #barnard hughes #science fiction may #sci-fi may #user365 #365 movie challenge #365 movies 365 days #365 Days 365 Movies #365 movies a year #useranimusvox #userbrittany

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transkingoryx · 4 years ago

Text

fall between the cracks

Pairing: Azula & Katara, background Zutara

Wordcount: 1998

Summary: Azula has a nightmare, and calls Katara. Modern AU

Other notes: so, I wrote this for a gift exchange for a server i’m in, but my giftee asked not to be tagged if i posted it outside the server, so here it is!

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28480725

Azula shot upright, eyes wide and gasping for air. It was just a dream; you don’t need to get so upset over it, she berated herself, trying to steady her racing pulse. She could still see it in her mind, her father standing in front of her, the hateful lies he’d insisted were true echoing in her head.

You should have been better. You failed. You didn’t do your duty. And the worst of them all: You're just as bad as Zuko. For all her life, ‘Zuko’ had been Ozai’s synonym for disappointment, worthless, weak, and everything else she wasn’t supposed to be. She knew that her brother was none of those things, but the opinions she’d had drilled into her head for her entire childhood wouldn’t let go. You weren’t good enough. It hadn’t been her fault. If you had been better, this wouldn’t have happened. It wasn’t her fault. You could have stopped this. It couldn’t have been her fault-

She dove for her phone, and dialed the first number that came to mind.

“Azula?” Katara’s tired voice filled her ears. “It’s three in the morning.”

“I apologize for waking you. I wasn’t thinking.” Her voice sounded small and empty. Exactly the way she felt. “I will call back in the morning.” She moved to hang up, but Katara spoke first.

“Wait. What’s wrong?” the other girl asked.

“I… I had a nightmare.” It sounded foolish once she said it out loud, and Azula opened her mouth to take the words back, to lie and convince Katara it was nothing. But once again, her friend answered before she could.

“About your father?”

“Yes,” Azula admitted. “I understand it’s ridiculous to still be thinking about something that happened in college now, but-”

“I’ll be right over,” Katara promised, and the line went dead in Azula’s hand. She stared at it uncomprehendingly. Katara cares about you, she reminded herself. She cares.

In what seemed like forever and no time at all, a quiet knock sounded at her apartment door. Azula swung her legs over the edge of her bed, and stood up quickly- too quickly, it seemed, as the motion set her head spinning. She waited for the dizziness to pass, and walked to the front door. When she opened it, Katara gave her a quick hug. Azula stepped back awkwardly, wordlessly inviting her friend to come in.

Seeing her uncertainty, Katara took her arm, and led her to the kitchen. Once they were there, Azula moved with stiff and practiced efficiency, selecting ingredients and placing them on the countertop. In barely two minutes, there were two warm cups of tea on the table. Jasmine, Uncle and Zuko’s favorite.

Once they were both settled, and sipping at their tea, Katara looked at Azula expectantly.

“Do you want to talk about it?” she asked, obviously concerned.

“High school,” Azula said, bitterly. “Was a series of unrealistic and harmful expectations piled on top of me, one after another, with consequences when those impossibilities were not met. College was the result of those three years of buildup exploding in my father’s face, and by extension, mine.”

Katara nodded, clearly struggling to keep any signs of pity off her face.

“I was the envy of the entire school. Popular, intelligent, powerful. And then Iroh helped Zuko come forward about what had happened and when the news broke-” Azula snapped her fingers “-nobody wanted anything to do with the true failure, me. Just like that. Even Ty Lee and Mai abandoned me. I went from the most liked to most hated, in a matter of hours.” She grimaced. “I didn’t come to school for two weeks, but I heard the rumors. She was in on it, he hired someone to fake her success, and all the rest. I never stopped hearing it, not for the rest of my life. Every interview, I’m asked what my role was in what happened to Zuko. If I attempt to befriend someone, they inevitably demand to know what really happened. And if I don’t give the answer they want...” She stared at her feet. “I keep wondering if it’s worth trying again.”

“I didn’t know that it still affected your career.” Katara looked down at her feet. “If you want, I can pull some strings, get you a comfortable position in my company-”

“Thank you, but no.” Azula stopped her. “If I succeed, I have to do it on my own. Otherwise, I’ll just be proving what they all said about me. That my successes will always come from other people’s generosity. Not to mention what it would do to your reputation.”

“Alright,” Katara nodded, knowing exactly what Azula meant. After all, she had gone through the same thing rising to the top of her company, despite Pakku and the others on the Board of Executives doing their best to stop her. “But you need to know that having help doesn’t diminish your accomplishments. There is nothing wrong with needing help sometimes.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re talking about more than jobs?”

Katara shifted in her seat. “I know you didn’t want to when Zuko first brought it up, but I was wondering if you were still so against going to therapy.” Azula flinched from the word, bringing her hands together to rest in her lap. She straightened her posture, feeling like she had to hide all signs of the emotional turmoil inside her.

“My answer remains the same as it did then.” Azula spoke slowly, her words measured and careful.

“Are you sure? I know it helped your brother,” Katara pressed. “Or if you’re uncomfortable with that, maybe you could try talking to Zuko instead-”

“What happened to Zuko and what happened to me are completely different things,” Azula snapped. “We may have both been hurt by our fathe- Ozai, but our experiences were fundamentally different on every other level. He was the hero, Katara. I was just something for my father to brag about. Zuko faded into slightly positive-tinged obscurity after he exposed Phoenix Industries, and I have been vilified by mainstream news reports and my past defines everything I do. He had help and support from Iroh, and I was left to fall through the cracks. Do not insinuate that we went through the same thing in the end.” Katara seemed surprised by the ruthlessness and efficiency with which Azula delivered her argument. And why shouldn’t she be? I’m sure Zuko doesn’t dwell on this as much as I do. But still, Katara had clearly been hurt by her harsh words. “I-I’m sorry.”

“I get it. You’re not thinking straight right now.”

“You’re right, I’m not.” Azula stared down at her hands, screaming at herself internally for testing Katara’s patience at- she checked her watch- three-thirty in the morning. She was a fool for bringing Katara into this, a fool for telling her everything, and a fool for never being strong enough to handle anything on her own. Pathetic. Weak. Worthless.

Blinking back tears, she avoided Katara’s gaze. “I apologize for inconveniencing you. I will most likely be fine in the morning.” Most likely, you’ll be calling in sick to work and sobbing in bed for two hours in the morning. Bad enough that you’re lying again, you don’t even sound convincing.

“Azula, look me in the eyes and tell me that again.”

She forced herself to maintain eye contact, and forced her voice to remain steady as she spoke. “I will be fine in the morning.” Liar. Liar. Liar. That’s all you do, isn’t it? All you can even do anymore.

“Do you even hear yourself right now?” Katara slammed her cup down on the table with surprising force. “Do you have any idea how unconvincing you sound?”

“I’m fin-”

“No! Don’t say you’re fine. You’re not fine, and anyone with a single brain cell can see that!” Katara waved her hands as if hitting the air would make Azula listen to her. “I’m completely sick of watching you run yourself into the ground again and again! You take extra shifts at both your jobs and stay up late trying to find a job where you can use what you learned at that fancy law school, and then you burn yourself out trying to be everything you’re supposed to be, while still holding fast to your nothing-to-do-with-Ozai policy! You take a day off to recover, and start the whole cycle again the next day! I hate watching you do this to yourself!” Katara continued her diatribe, but it blurred together in Azula’s ears. Burned out. That sounded about right. But what was the other part? Could it be that Katara couldn’t stand Azula’s method of being a functioning adult? Or perhaps that Katara felt responsible for her, as Azula’s closest (and only) friend? It didn’t seem that way, from the passionate tirade alone.

“Why are you doing this?”

Katara blinked, interrupted mid-rant. “You mean why am I trying to make you take care of yourself?”

“Yes. Why are you trying to make me take care of myself, and offering me assistance in life? The system I currently have is working fine, and doesn’t affect you in any way. I can’t make sense of it. The only possible explanation that I can think of is that Zuko or Ursa put you up to it.”

“Didn’t you say your mother wanted nothing to do with you?”

“You’re avoiding the question. Why?” Azula barely managed to disguise her wince at the mention of her mother. It was her own fault, she supposed, for bringing Ursa into it.

“Isn’t it obvious?” Katara blinked. “You’re my friend, and I want what’s best for you. What, did you think I hated you?”

“Well, at first, yes,” Azula confessed, shocked. “I assumed you were spending time around me for Zuko’s sake, and mistook your… forceful personality for hatred of me.”

Katara shook her head and started to laugh. “I’ve gotta say, between dating Zuko and having Sokka for a brother, I’ve heard a lot of things like that, but what you just said takes the cake.”

“Hmph.” Azula tried to frown, but wound up smiling instead

“It’s true,” Katara teased lightheartedly. “I don’t know how you got it into your head that my way of showing complete and utter contempt was showing up at your door with cupcakes on your birthday, or inviting you over for dinner, or coming to your house at three in the morning because you had a nightmare.” She grinned. “Of course, they could have been poisoned cupcakes.”

Azula laughed. “Oh yes, they were definitely poisoned, that’s why they probably had more sugar in them then most desserts.”

“Toph gave me the recipe, you know she has a sweet tooth.”

“Have Mai and Ty Lee finally realized that their pining isn’t one-sided yet?”

“Surprisingly, yes,” Katara gave a half-smile. “It seemed like they never would, but it finally happened.”

“I’m happy for them.” Azula smiled. “It’s unlikely that either of them will ever want to speak to me again, but I wish them the best.”

They both lapsed into comfortable silence, sipping their tea and relaxing in each others’ company. After a while, Katara had to leave, as she had work the next day.

“Be brave, okay?” She hugged Azula.

“I’ll try.” Azula hugged back.

The next morning, when her alarm went off, Azula rolled out of bed and stared at the next law firm in her notebook. She pulled up the website on her phone, and was immediately drawn to the sentence in the description that they specialized in dealing with corrupt employers and large megacorporations. In a perfect world, where she wasn’t Ozai’s daughter, it would have been an excellent fit for her. Azula typed the number into her phone, and hovered her finger over the call button. Would they turn her away upon finding out who she was? Be brave, Azula. Katara’s voice echoed in her head.

Azula made the call.

#platonic azutara #zutara #azula #katara #avatar the last airbender fic #avatar the last airbender #atla #atla fic #misty writes

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