#someone should ask though. i think it would be fun for him to elaborate < and by that i mean fun for me ) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

taexual · 7 months

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sleepwalking ● 4 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x fem!reader

summary: due to unfortunate circumstances, you ended up managing your ex-boyfriend’s band. you thought you’ve both made peace with it, but suddenly he’s very eager to prove to you that first love never dies.

genre: rockstar!jungkook / exes to lovers

warnings: explicit language, suggestive themes, SLOW BURN

words: 6.7k

read from the beginning ○ masterlist

chapter 4 ► i wanna be someone you used to hate without the memory of the pain

It took three and a half hours for the tour bus to reach Warsaw. Objectively, that gave Jungkook plenty of time to tell you about his ex and why he thought that relationship was worth salvaging.

But somehow—that is, by spinning elaborate webs and finding cheap excuses to derail the topic—he told you exactly nothing of what you wanted to know and managed to fall asleep before you could accuse him of beating around the bush.

You wanted to wake him up, but rationality won over. He needed sleep and, truthfully, you didn’t really need to know the full details of his failed relationship. As his manager, you were supposed to know that such a relationship existed and that was enough—you should have let him rest.

And you did let him.

But that did not stop you from wanting to know more.

You hesitated – really, you did, if only for a moment – before you texted Luna. It was three in the morning, but the girl slept during the day and stayed awake watching films with Taehyung at night (no matter how much you scolded him for yawning during rehearsals), so she replied right away.

You were smart enough not to text her the details over the phone – the Rated Riot members had a tendency to steal everyone’s phones just for the fun of it sometimes – so she agreed to come find you at your bunk in the back of the bus.

There were seven of you on this bus: the four members of the band, Luna, you, and the driver. You knew you had to be quiet, but you figured you were safe enough with everyone asleep now that you’d arrived at your destination (except Taehyung, who was still quietly watching Reservoir Dogs on his phone).

“I feel bad doing this,” was what you started with—you needed to make that clear as though it would justify your curiosity. All it really did was intrigue Luna more. “But I feel like I have to know.”

“What is it?” she urged, nearly bouncing with interest as she sat opposite you on your bunk.

So, you told her—in dangerous whispers—about Sid’s revelation regarding the mysterious ex and Jungkook’s subsequent secrecy. Luna listened, her arms crossed over her chest, her eyes wide and glistening.

“Alright,” she concluded after you finished. “Here’s what we’re going to do – I’ll ask Taehyung to confirm if there’s any truth to this. That’s first of all. Because, let me be honest with you, everything that Sid told you sounds like he just pulled it out of his ass.”

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” you nodded, “but then Jungkook said it’s true. Why would he lie?”

“I don’t know,” she paused here to think. “Is it possible that he’s just pulling a prank on you? Although I don’t see how anyone would find that funny.”

“Anyone but Sid.”

“Right,” she agreed. “But would Jungkook jump on that? I haven’t really seen him with his friends much, but I assume he draws the line at involving you.”

That was true. All things considered, Jungkook was rarely ever the one who called you for help when he got into trouble—it was usually his friends who did.

“You’re probably right,” you said. Your voice was hopeful, but you could never be fully certain that Jungkook’s friends haven’t pulled him into the metaphorical dark side completely. “But I don’t know what else this could be. He must have dated someone, it’s the only way this makes sense.”

“No—or maybe,” Luna said, her voice rising with sudden excitement. “Maybe he’s trying to get your pity, so you would come to Paris with him.”

You frowned. “Why?”

“Maybe he—” she started, but then stopped herself. Biting her lip, she thought twice about the way in which she’d phrase herself next. She didn’t want to instil some sort of false hope inside of you, but she also wasn’t sure if you’d even care. “I don’t know… Would it be outrageous to guess that maybe he just wants to take you out?”

You lifted your eyebrows and couldn’t resist a scoff.

“Unless it’s with a sniper, yes,” you said. “That would be outrageous.”

“Oh, come on,” she rolled her eyes at your absurd dramatics. Her suggestion seemed far more plausible to her, especially after she heard your jeering response, which obviously came from your personal discomfort, and not genuine disbelief. She pointed out, “you dated.”

“Four years ago,” you reminded her in turn. “I barely even remember the relationship or the break-up anymore.”

Luna caught the tentative tone in your voice—like you wanted to believe what you were saying, but couldn’t quite manage it, yet you hoped it wouldn’t show.

It showed. And it gave Luna a pause.

Distracted from the topic of Jungkook hypothetically wanting to take you out on a date, she asked, “why did you break up?”

You and Luna had been friends before you became Rated Riot’s manager (funnily enough, she was the one who introduced you to their music after you mentioned that you might start working with them) – but not before you broke up with Jungkook. She’d never met him, but she was one of your closest friends, so she knew of his existence—although the realization that your ex-boyfriend and Jungkook from Rated Riot was the same person, came later.

Despite that, however, the two of you had never really talked about the reasons why you and Jungkook broke up. You’d never talked about that with anyone. There was never any point for that, really – the people who knew you could tell that your relationship had ended long before you two actually broke up.

“Just—things happened,” you said, looking away and waving a dismissive hand around.

“Come on,” she pleaded again. “You were together for three years. What things could have happened to end that?”

You sighed. It wasn’t a secret or anything. This was just something you happened not to talk about. But, you supposed, it wouldn’t make much of a difference if you did.

“It was the same shit,” you began slowly. “His stupid friends. He was getting drunk every night, picking fights, drag-racing, doing other dangerous, dumb things. Then one night, I had to pick him up from the police station after he got arrested with Minjun—”

“Minjun got arrested?” Luna interrupted, her eyebrows rising. She realised she’d spoken too loudly and looked around warily—the bus was quiet, save for the sound of the film on Taehyung’s phone. She continued, quieter, “I always thought he was the most mellow one, out of Jungkook’s friends.”

“I know, right?” you nodded with a relatable smile. “I still think Sid set them up. Anyway, they were spraying graffiti on some abandoned building downtown, and they got caught by someone patrolling the street. So, they ran and, apparently, spat at the officers. Minjun and Jungkook were the only ones who got caught. That was my last straw.”

Your friend nodded, not surprised, but still unsettled to hear that this was something that you’d had to deal with even before you became Rated Riot’s manager. Luna wasn’t sure if she’d have agreed to work with an ex-boyfriend, especially if that meant interacting with his friends—who were a contributing factor to the break-up, as it seemed—again.

“Wow,” she commented, lacking better words.

“Yeah,” you concurred, because, really, that one syllable seemed to sum it up well. “But that was ages ago. I mean, he obviously hasn’t changed much, but I don’t care about it. I mean, I do, but I care as his manager. Not, uh—not personally. Not anymore.”

Luna caught the awkward stuttering and licked her lips as she tried to fight off a smirk.

“Hmm, okay,” she said, crossing her legs on your bunk. “So, if that’s the case, then why do you want to know about this relationship that he might have had?”

Immediately, you felt the need to defend yourself from whatever she was insinuating, “well, because as his manager—”

“Right,” she cut you off, repeating, “so, as his manager, why do you want to know about th—”

“Okay, fine.” You extended a hand to stop her and closed your eyes in defeat when she chuckled. “I want to know, because this person is going to be at the wedding of our mutual friends. It’s very likely that we’ve met before. A-and Jungkook said that this person might be the love of his life.”

Luna stopped laughing immediately.

“Fuck,” she whispered. “He said that?”

You brought your tongue over your dry lips. “Yeah.”

“Fuck,” she repeated.

“Yeah. I-I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’m not—not heartbroken or anything—”

“No, of course not.”

You gave her a look. “I’m just being careful. Because he isn’t. And if this person is anything like his friends, then… you know. It’s not good.”

You couldn’t find a better explanation why that wasn’t good or why this situation required your interference, but Luna understood. She likely understood this better than you did; your mind was still clouded with convictions that you were only doing this for the sake of the band.

“Okay,” she said with a nod. “That’s fair enough.”

This was why you loved her: she didn’t just understand you—wordlessly sometimes—but she also knew when to ask and when not to ask questions.

“Thing is, though,” you continued, folding your legs under yourself as you tried to handle the sudden anxiety that came with talking about this. “What do I tell him? If this person really is bad for him, what do I say without seeming, I don’t know, crazy? Because, when it comes to this, there’s a very thin line between being a concerned manager and a bitter ex-girlfriend. And I’m already overstepping all boundaries by talking to you about this.”

Luna didn’t think you were doing anything crazy—the two of you had done far more plotting over the years—as she tapped her index finger against her lower lip.

“Okay, let me think for a second.” She watched the ceiling of your bunk for a minute or two before asking, “okay, has he, uh—has he been in love with anyone other than you?”

This was an uncomfortable question; she could already tell before she even asked it—and your reaction was intense as you shrunk into yourself and pulled further away from her.

“I don’t know,” you mumbled.

“Don’t be humble,” she scolded kindly.

You clicked your tongue. With your face burning—for no reason other than your own discomfort and, possibly, insecurities—you looked down and shrugged your shoulders, as if this gesture could reduce the weight of your confession.

“No,” you said. “He hasn’t. To my knowledge.”

“Okay,” Luna replied as quickly as she could, knowing that an awkward silence would follow otherwise. “So, once upon a time, he probably thought you were the love of his life. He was wrong, right?”

You swallowed, still not looking up. “Right.”

Luna paused here, thrown off yet again by the lack of conviction in your voice. Normally, you were overly composed and not at all hesitant when it came to this. But not tonight.

It’s been four years, you had said, trying very hard not to hesitate. I barely remember the break-up.

This persistent uncertainty that Luna kept noticing interested her. It interested her even more than your evident stiffness—even embarrassment—about the fact that Jungkook had never been in love with anyone else but you.

She squinted her eyes at you, while you focused on the duvet underneath you, tracing the pattern with your thumb.

There were seven people on this bus, only two of whom had been in the relationship that was currently under discussion, and yet Luna could have sworn there wouldn’t be anyone who could say that Jungkook had really been wrong about this. That you weren’t the mythical love of his life. That he didn’t love you anymore.

Truly, she realised—not a single person who knew you two, could have said this with certainty. Not even you.

“Right,” she echoed nonetheless—she was making a point, after all. “So, then if he was wrong once, he could be wrong again. Tell him that.”

She extended her hands to signal the ingenuity—and the sheer simplicity—of her plan, and you had to give her a respectful nod as you finally met her eye.

“Okay,” you said, “I guess that could work.”

“Yeah,” she agreed, although she thought you both knew that you’d just be pretending if you used this as an argument against Jungkook.

A small part of her—more chaotic than her other parts—wondered what would happen if you confronted Jungkook about this. If you asked, point-blank, if he’d ever felt like you were the love of his life and if this feeling ever left him.

But she knew you’d never do it. She supposed that the secrecy surrounding your relationship wasn’t just a front for your friends—the two of you didn’t speak much about it to each other, either.

Not to mention, you couldn’t even use the words “love” and “life” in one sentence without looking like you were being executed in front of the whole town.

Exhaling as she watched you get lost in your own thoughts, Luna extended her legs over the ledge of your bunk. “Okay, I’ll go back to Taehyung and—”

You blinked in sudden panic. “Don’t ask him now, though! He’ll know we just talked about this.”

She looked at you with disdain. “Do you think this is my first time gathering intel behind someone’s back? I got this.”

She was right, of course. You had no reason not to trust her; the two of you had done a lot of sleuthing together in the past.

That was why you’d texted her tonight—because she was the one who could give you a different perspective. And in case her perspective matched yours, she was the one who’d help you find the answers you were looking for.

“Okay,” you said. “Thank you.”

“No problem,” she replied as she stepped out of your bunk and gave you one more look over her shoulder before she returned to her boyfriend. “Get some sleep.”

Jungkook continued to be evasive the whole day in Warsaw, but, then again, you didn’t talk to him much. You trusted Luna to get to the bottom of this, and focused on your job instead.

And your job needed focus.

Jett Records called to check in—as if they could sense that you were planning a secret trip to France with the band’s vocalist tomorrow. And then you were contacted by radio hosts from Germany and England – they were interested in interviewing the band, so you had to adjust the daily schedules.

On top of that, Hoseok’s drum pedals started to malfunction during the soundcheck, so you and Jimin – the sound technician and an avid drum enthusiast – spent the whole afternoon travelling to various music stores to find a replacement. Jimin insisted he could repair it, but he spent an hour just trying to figure out what the issue was, so you guessed it’d be faster to get a new one.

As it turned out, it wasn’t faster at all. Obviously, neither of you spoke Polish, and, just like the Rated Riot members themselves, Jimin was also very directionally challenged—yet he refused to let you use the map on your phone. Fortunately, both of you were also stubborn, so you huffed and cursed, but you found the bloody pedal in the end.

You were drained by the time Rated Riot stepped on stage for their performance that night, but you’d fixed the drums and gotten everything under control—and that felt good.

You’d done your job well today and all the unexpected errands successfully distracted you from the upcoming trip to Paris.

Once everyone gathered backstage after the show, you and Jungkook were the only two people glancing at your phones and exchanging conspiratory looks, while everyone else had drinks and sang along to Reconnaissance on the speakers—it was long established that this was the band that Rated Riot looked up to at the moment.

You didn’t mind. Reconnaissance had sold out Wembley Stadium on their third European tour. If Rated Riot continued down the path they were on now, their own third visit to the continent could take place in similar venues.

However, you couldn’t just sit here with a soft smile as everyone danced around you, because the train from Warsaw left early in the morning.

This proposed another problem: you hardly wanted to inform everyone that you were going to spend the band’s day off travelling to a wedding in Paris with Jungkook. You debated taking the illness route – surely no one would bother you if you drew the curtains on your bunk on the bus and hung a note, claiming you weren’t feeling well.

But before you could decide on any course of action, Jungkook stood up from his seat next to you and declared to everyone in the room, “we’re going sightseeing around Europe tomorrow. So, if any of you need us, don’t.”

“Around Europe?” Yoongi repeated with an amused scoff. “What the fuck does that mean?”

“It means we’re going to be taking trains to places,” Jungkook explained so very concisely. “And we don’t want anyone to bother us.”

Feeling hot all of a sudden—because the way he was describing this was painfully ambiguous—you stood up, too, and tried to do damage control, “what he means is—”

“Have fun, guys,” Hoseok interrupted, gently brushing his hand against your shoulder as he walked past. “It’s our day off, you deserve some rest, too.”

That wasn’t the reaction you were expecting—you were, after all, the manager; and leaving the band so suddenly for the whole day wasn’t, exactly, permitted—but perhaps you should have known better.

All of you spent so much time together that every single staff member in this room felt more like family than your actual family did sometimes. You should have guessed they wouldn’t look down on you for doing this.

Still, you reminded everyone, “if you need me, you can call me. I’m still available, okay?”

Everyone nodded with good-natured chuckles as Jungkook pulled you towards the door—all while you waved your phone around to accentuate your availability.

Because of this, you missed the meaningful glances exchanged between Jungkook and his friends—Sid, Jude, and Minjun were oddly quiet now that Rated Riot, as well as other staff, were in the room with them.

“Don’t call her,” you heard Jungkook whisper at his bandmates as the two of you exited the room into the hallway. “She’s not available.”

Smacking him on the shoulder—and ignoring the annoyed, “ow, for fuck’s sake, this is my singing arm!”—you closed the door of the changing room, but not before adding a rushed, “call me, seriously!” at the guys inside.

You saw them smile and wave before the door clicked shut, and you exhaled slowly.

“This trip better be worth it,” you warned Jungkook as the two of you walked towards the back exit.

“It will be,” he assured you, still rubbing his shoulder. “This is going to bruise, by the way.”

“It’s not going to bruise. I barely touched you.”

“Don’t gaslight me. I’m in pain.”

You stopped walking to glare at him.

“I apologise for hurting you,” you said with a deadpan expression. “Would you like me to put ice on it? A bandage? Kiss it better?”

He removed his hand from his shoulder and turned away very ceremoniously. “Don’t baby me.”

You pushed the exit door open and waved your hand to allow him to leave first. “Then don’t act like a baby.”

He walked out, all while mumbling in discontent, “I’m taking you to a wedding in Paris as my date. You could be grateful.”

Your mouth nearly fell open at his audacity as you followed him outside, the door slamming shut behind you.

“I’m going to a wedding in Paris as your date,” you retorted. “You could be grateful.”

At first, he tried to think of a witty comeback while you browsed your phone to order an Uber, but then he realised that wouldn’t be fair and chose to be honest instead.

“Okay, fine. I am grateful,” he admitted.

You ordered the ride and locked your phone, crossing your arms as the two of you stood in the nearly empty parking lot, illuminated only by a few stray street lights.

“And I am sorry if I really hurt you,” you replied. “I don’t usually use violence.”

Jungkook grinned. “You couldn’t throw a punch even if you tried.”

You lifted your eyebrows and raised a fist. “You want to actually see me try?”

There was an impressed twinkle in his eye. “I thought you said no violence.”

“You challenged me,” you replied, taking half a step back to get into a proper boxing position. His lip twitched in a smile as you said, “I’m really just proving a point.”

“The only point you’re proving is the one I made,” he said, nodding at your stance, “that is not how you fight.”

You looked down at your legs. “What’s wrong with—”

You felt a quick, but gentle poke under your chin that sent your head backwards. Jungkook snickered, pulling away.

“And don’t ever look away from your opponent,” he added. “Can’t believe I have to teach you that.”

Your gaze was murderous when you looked at him again. You gathered your legs and stood up normally.

“I am going to wait until you fall asleep on the train,” you said, “and leave your ass in Cologne before our transfer.”

“If you think I won’t find my way back to you,” he replied, “you don’t know me at all.”

Your annoyed expression prompted his amused grin to widen before he puckered his lips and smacked them, a mocking air kiss.

Your glare remained as you stuffed your tongue into your cheek. “You make me so miserable sometimes.”

Chuckling in response, he pointed at the headlights approaching you two from across the parking lot. “I think that’s our Uber.”

Immediately, you made your way towards it. “I’m sitting at the front.”

He caught up with you with one quick stride. The car stopped on the edge of the parking lot as the driver seemingly noticed the two of you.

“Absolutely not,” Jungkook said, knowing you’d rather crawl than endure small talk with the driver. “You’re sitting with me in the back. Or we’re both walking to the train station.”

“I really regret the day I met you,” you informed him.

“No, you don’t,” he argued brightly. “I’m a gift.”

“A gift from hell.”

He laughed as he opened the back door for you, only entering the car after you got comfortable in the furthest corner. Smug, he slid down the backseat until he was right next to you, even though there was plenty of space for, at least, four people here.

Even though you rolled your eyes at him, it’s been a while since the two of you played around like this—like you weren’t simply working together—and you had to resist a smile.

The two of you merely glanced at each other before looking away again as you violently repressed all the memories that this moment outside in the parking lot had brought back.

You and Jungkook were already on the 4 AM train when Luna texted you, “not true!!! TH knows for a fact that JK was sleeping around w Sid's girls when he was in that ‘relationship’. He definitely lied to you!!”

Swallowing—because, suddenly, this made less sense—you lifted your eyes from your phone to look at Jungkook. He was sitting across from you, leaning his elbows on the fold-out table between you in the private compartment of the train.

He wasn’t looking at you as he filmed the view outside the train window (although there wasn’t much to film, it was still dark outside, save for the occasional street light somewhere far in the distance), but he felt your eyes quickly enough. As soon as he turned his head in your direction, you looked down at your phone again.

You didn’t understand. Why would he lie to you?

You typed back a quick, “thanks,” to Luna, and then cleared your throat, putting your phone on the table.

“So, uh,” you said, finally meeting his gaze. “How are you feeling? I realise I never asked you.”

He frowned. “What do you mean? You ask me that almost every day.”

“But not about the break-up,” you clarified, trying to sound as genuine as you could under the circumstances. “Must have been difficult. How long ago did you say you broke up?”

You watched as he clenched his jaw and returned his attention to his phone, proceeding with the video.

“I told you I’d rather not talk about this,” he replied decidedly enough.

“And I told you I’d only come with you to Paris if you talked to me,” you pushed.

Swallowing the unpleasant feeling in his throat, Jungkook finally stopped recording. He clicked something on his phone—just stalling, you were sure of it—and then finally put his phone on the table next to yours.

He’d dug this hole himself—well, actually, Sid dug this hole for him, but he leapt into it voluntarily. Now he had to find a way out.

“Fine,” he said. “I don’t remember exactly when. Maybe two weeks before we left for tour.”

Huh. Sid had said it was four days before the flight to Prague. What were the odds that his useless friend remembered the break-up more vividly than Jungkook himself?

“Right, right.” You nodded, abandoning all sensitivity now that the chances of this being true diminished even more. Unless he cheated on his partner—repeatedly, apparently—he was lying straight to your face. “Did you ask why? Did you, maybe, do something that would have—”

“Are you saying it’s my fault?” he interrupted loudly enough to make his anger seem genuine.

You blinked, momentarily surprised.

“I’m not saying,” you defended. “I’m asking.”

You supposed you could have given him the benefit of the doubt here – that was easier to do than to think of reasons why he’d feel the need to lie about a break-up or a relationship. But Jungkook wasn’t the type to cheat—then again, was anyone, really, the type?

That being said, if Taehyung knew that Jungkook was sleeping around at the time of the supposed relationship, then perhaps these things could have been happening simultaneously. Perhaps his partner found out and broke up with him.

“It sounds like you’re accusing me,” Jungkook said, his gaze firm.

Keeping eye contact, you countered, “I’m just trying to understand.”

“Is it so hard to believe that someone would break up with me?” he asked. “You’ve done it, too.”

Nearly flinching at the abrupt—but factual—accusation, you looked down.

“Okay,” you said as your fingers found the edges of your phone case to toy with. His unexpected statement had cut your interrogation short. “I’m just trying to see what the odds are of you getting back together with this person. If that’s still something you want.”

Jungkook looked away, too, watching the darkness outside of the window. “I’m still thinking about it.”

Unsure what to make of that—especially since now you knew that there was, most likely, no person for him to get back together with—you only hummed in response.

“Let’s just make it to Paris and we’ll see,” he added, honest this time. “I’m sure everything will be fine.”

It was you who lied this time as you gave him a small nod of agreement. “Yeah. Sure.”

That was the extent of your conversation on the topic: he didn’t pursue it further—which would have been weird in any case, considering how much he cared about being taken seriously; and he could see that you were having doubts now—and neither did you. You obviously had more questions, but you knew they’d only work as an opening for him to lie further.

You thought that, if you didn’t know that he was lying, you would have had to respect his decision not to give you more details, even though you were curious. He’d applied the same method to your own relationship, after all. You’d always appreciated it, regardless of how obnoxious it seemed to your friends sometimes—the relationship stayed between the two people that were in it.

But he wasn’t in a relationship now. Not as far as Taehyung and Luna knew.

And yet, this didn’t feel like a good time to get into an argument. Regardless of his motives for this lie, you were on a train to Paris with him. You’d be going to your friends’ wedding together. Then, you’d be taking another train back to join the tour.

You could play along for a short while—if anything, just so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable for the entirety of the upcoming 24 hours.

Finally, after two transfers – one in Berlin, and one in Cologne – you had four hours left until you’d arrive at Gare du Nord in Paris. Taking a plane would have required less time and fewer layovers, but it was impossible to find a flight on such short notice, especially when you were on a budget.

Another two hours later, as Jungkook began to wake up from his nap, you figured it was a good time to change into a more appropriate outfit for the wedding – you’d worn a grey tracksuit for the train ride – so you grabbed your overnight bag and headed to the bathroom.

At this point in your journey, you’d nearly forgotten the unsuccessful conversation that you’d had about his ex, and you were surprised to realise that not knowing the whole truth didn’t bother you much. The gentle rocking of the train was soothing—calming, even. And the idea that you’d see your old friends soon felt exciting, too.

There were many other things you could have focused on—and you did. Even though some of the distracting thoughts that you had, weren’t, exactly, a better alternative.

Changing in the cramped bathroom of a moving train was about as uncomfortable as one could imagine, but it was nothing you hadn’t done before. And, now that you thought about it, you realised that you and Jungkook had done a lot more in train bathrooms than just changing clothes.

The unexpected memory forced you to bump your head into the sink as you took your sneakers off, and you cursed quietly under your breath.

You weren’t sure why you were remembering this now, but you were alone, thankfully, and had enough time to shake these thoughts out of your head as you slid your sweatpants down your legs and pulled the burgundy, off-the-shoulder dress out of your bag.

The dress had wrinkled a bit, but you had packed a leather jacket just in case—it would certainly divert the attention, considering the huge skull on the back of it.

However, looking at the jacket now, you were forced to remember where you got it. You’d had it for so long, you didn’t think anything when you packed it. But now you could remember Jungkook being there with you the day you first saw it. The two of you had only stopped at the clothing store because it had begun to rain—rain seemed to surround your relationship—and neither of you had an umbrella.

While you were looking for one in the accessory section, Jungkook approached you with this jacket and a big grin.

“You already have one like this,” you had told him then.

“I know,” he’d replied, beaming. “Now we can match.”

The jacket wouldn’t have meant anything if you weren’t on this train now. It would have just been a jacket—like any other piece of clothing that you’d worn before you broke up—if you weren’t going to Paris with him. If you weren’t remembering all of these useless moments in your life; meaningless, really, until your heart rate picked up.

Mumbling a few more curses, you put on the only heels you’d packed for the tour. They were far too chunky to go with the dress, but they seemed to go with the jacket—and you didn’t have any alternatives anyway. You had planned the outfit before you could plan the mess of thoughts in your head.

Another ten minutes later, you finally exited the bathroom and saw that there was already a small queue outside. Apologizing—and blaming the dumbfounded looks on people’s faces on your hair; you could tell it was everywhere, but not anywhere it needed to be—you jogged back towards your compartment, sighing in relief when you slid the door closed.

When you turned around, Jungkook was watching you with slightly parted lips.

You could tell he recognised the jacket.

“Shut up,” you said right away, unsure if he was going to tease you about it or mock the fact that you were dressed up for a festival rather than a wedding. “I didn’t bring enough clothes. And I know my hair looks like it’s moving to Argentina to start an independent—”

“No,” he cut you off with enough force to surprise himself, and then stuttered his way through something that was supposed to be a sentence, “it, uh—it looks—it’s—you’re, uh—it’s great. It’s fine.”

You snorted as you looked for a hairbrush in your backpack. “It’s great and it’s fine. Thanks.”

“I meant—” he began, but then gave up. He couldn’t look at you in this dress with the jacket that he got you, breathe, think of what to say, and actually speak at the same time. That was four things and he could barely stop doing the first one. “I should—I’m going to go change, too.”

“Sure,” you muttered distractedly, finally finding the hairbrush and the pocket mirror that you were looking for—but missing the way Jungkook looked back at you as he walked away.

The only time he stopped glancing back at you was when he nearly tumbled into a snack trolley and, once he walked around it, you were already out of his field of vision.

He needed cold water first and foremost, because for a good minute there, it seemed as though there was no way around the fact that Sid had been right. He did still have feelings for you.

Jungkook never flirted with you outright since you began to work together, but, of course, he still thought you were beautiful to the point where his knees felt wobbly when he was in the same room with you sometimes, and his breath got caught in his throat if you looked at him for longer than a minute.

He was a professional, not a blind idiot.

But that was physical attraction. Momentary reminiscences of your past relationship. He was grateful for these memories sometimes when he was writing songs. But he couldn’t have real, actual feelings for you. It’s been four years.

This was just the dress—it was the same colour as the skirt you’d worn on your third date, when you went to get fast food and he accidentally dropped an open packet of ketchup on you. You’d laughed and told him it was fine; you couldn’t see the stain anyway. You’d joked that that was why you’d worn this skirt—because you knew what a klutz he was.

Or maybe it was your hair—it looked like the same mess as it had when he rented out a convertible for your first anniversary and took you for a ride. It was early September, and he had thought it would be nice and warm, but within the first five minutes, both of your mouths were full of bugs, and you couldn’t hear a word the other one was saying through the sound of the wind. He had to pull over on the side of the road. The two of you needed a good minute to stop laughing at how ridiculous you looked before you could clean yourselves, because you had dinner reservations at a restaurant in town in an hour—he could still feel the softness of your hair as he untangled it with his fingers.

Or maybe it was the way you were completely unaware of this—like the first time he took you to meet his parents and you’d hyperventilated the whole bus ride to their house. You were nineteen, much too young for something as serious as meeting each other’s families, but he was completely calm. You’d asked him what would happen if his parents hated you. What about his grandma? His aunts and uncles? His cousins? His brother? Jungkook lived with an abundance of close and more distant relatives—what if they opposed the relationship? What if they told you to leave?

He’d never told you, but every time his grandmother had a better day, she still asked him about you.

Or maybe it was just you—like the first time he saw you at the Freshman Orientation in university. You’d been discussing Howl’s Moving Castle with someone with such intensity that he could see the fire in your eyes from across the room. He found out you’d seen every Studio Ghibli film before he even met you. And he fell in love with your eyes when you spoke about the things you loved before he said one word to you. He’d never believed in love at first sight, and not until years later, did he realise how utterly stupid it was not to believe in something that had happened to him, and kept happening every time he saw you, until, finally—a whole year later—he gathered enough courage to approach you and tell you that he liked My Neighbor Totoro, too.

Shit, shit, shit.

Shit.

When Jungkook returned to your compartment about fifteen minutes later, you were the one who needed a second to get yourself together.

He was wearing a black dress shirt under a black suit jacket with glossy, vertical stripes, embroidered with glittery beads that caught the sun rays and—as usual—reflected them right in your eyes when you looked up at him. Black suit pants and Oxford platform shoes finished his outfit—ironically, fit for both, a wedding and a funeral.

“Nice jacket,” you said, purposefully looking away and busying yourself with your backpack even though there was nothing useful in it for you now. “Tour wardrobe?”

“No, actually, this one’s mine,” he replied, looking down at his clothes. “I’d never worn it before. Very Prince. Didn’t think I could pull it off.”

“Hmm,” you glanced at him again, then looked back at your belongings—this was the only way you could remain coherent enough. “You’re pulling it off well.”

“Thanks,” he replied with a small smile as he took his seat in front of you.

You’d endured nearly fourteen hours of travel time – one hour left until Paris – and, unbelievably, this was the first time that this trip got awkward: right now – with the two of you sitting in front of each other, in your wedding guest outfits, not knowing what to do with your eyes or your bodies or your minds.

You weren’t sure what your role was anymore. You weren’t, technically, on tour with him right now, so you could hardly call yourself his manager here—if anything, you were breaking the rules that a manager should have enforced.

You supposed you could have called him a friend. He was the one person you knew the longest—he knew things about you that no one else did.

But, at the end of the day, he was also your ex-boyfriend. And, suddenly, four years didn’t seem that long ago as your relationship came rushing back at you with full force.

A little over three years together—exactly one-thousand, one-hundred and eighty days; the last eighty had seemed never-ending back then, as your relationship began to wither—and now you were trying your hardest to pretend like you didn’t feel the dangerously strong, almost magnetic pull towards each other.

You hoped this was just the air in Paris. Things would go back to the way they were once you joined the rest of the band on tour in Berlin.

Jungkook knew this wasn’t the air and it wasn’t just Paris. But he thought he could pretend it was.

chapter title credits: bad omens, “take me first”

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#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook reaction #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts fanfiction #jungkook au #jungkook fanfic #bts rockstar au #bts au #bts x reader #jungkook rockstar au #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfic

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andypantsx3 · 11 months

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ANDY U CANT LEAVE US HANGING I NEED MORE DRAGON SHOUTO?,!?.!. please… i think ill die if u dont elaborate WHAT DO U MEAN WE’RE FACE TO FACE WITH HIM… what does he say… what does he DO… i need to know more omfg

Riffing off of @mhathotfic's tags on my original post, which I absolutely loved.

It happens on a cold January evening, just a few months after you've reached your majority.

You escape out into the frosty winter evening to join Shouto, unable to bear your family's increasingly-regular discussions of your marriageability now that you're of age.

Once you dragged home a dragon fledgling, you'd always sort of imagined that the question of your eligibility would be somewhat moot. Not many men wanted a wife who came with little dowry, and even fewer might want one who came with an enormous fire-breathing lizard who barely let her out of his sight.

You thought Shouto would sooner burn down your husband's house than listen to any sounds of discomfort on your wedding night—you didn't think many men would be willing to consummate a union with that threat lingering just beyond the window.

Not that you wanted to be married to any of the village men. Ever since you were little, you'd always had this feeling—a feeling like there was someone out there for you, just out of reach, like they were just a step beyond the next corner. Close, but somehow impossible to catch. So you'd never wanted a husband from the village, and you certainly don't now.

So once the discussion turns towards the topic of your being married yet again over dinner, you excuse yourself, and go out into the night to find Shouto, who is never more than a few hundred meters away.

You find his enormous form easily, his red-and-white patterned scales glittering in the light of a fire he's set, out in the fields you'd found him in as a child, as if he'd somehow anticipated you'd be coming out to him.

He cracks open a fiery blue eye, watching your approach, and lifts a wing as you near him, crowding you between the fire and his warm scales, creating a sort of tent with his wing to keep the heat in, and keep you close to him.

You absently pat his side, sinking down against him, sticking your hands out to the fire.

"They're talking about husbands again," you say, and Shouto cranes his neck around so that he can rest his head across your lap, nearly as large as you are, heavy and warm. You reach out to rest a hand across his snout, petting the glittering scarlet scales there.

You've always known he can understand you, given his reactions to the questions you ask, the way he sometimes watches you with knowing eyes. But how much of what you say to him he truly understands will forever be a mystery, as you'll never be able to ask him.

You think he understands enough, though, to know you're displeased.

"A husband," you repeat in disbelief, scratching over his scales again, listening to the rumble that builds up in his chest almost like a purr. He always likes to be petted, though you get an intentionally blank look from him whenever you dare to bring it up, as though he does not like to be made fun of.

"When they should know you're the only boy for me," you tell him, teasing.

Shouto's eye blinks open again, and you lean back to watch him watching you, something curious in his gaze. You begin to recognize the look for what it usually is—the precedent to some type of mischief—whether that be digging up a garden when he was still the size of a particularly fat cat, to accidentally setting a man's pant leg ablaze when he'd whistled after you, the evening of your sixteenth birthday.

You make a curious noise, and you're just about to ask him what he thinks he's up to when there's a crackle like lightning, and the hot, burning scent of ozone reaches your nose.

There's suddenly a rush of cold air over you, Shouto's massive form gone from around you, and the weight in your lap is suddenly much smaller and lighter.

When you look down, Shouto's head is no longer across your legs. Instead, your gaze meets the perfect pale skin of a very strong, very naked back. You realize belatedly that there is a stranger in your lap, a man with a mop of red-and-white hair, scarlet and snow, who has one warm, muscular arm curled around your waist.

You let out a scream, scrabbling backwards, but the stranger's arm locks around you, and the man's face tips up to yours, blinking curiously.

You freeze, your gaze meeting eerily familiar grey-and-blue eyes, set into the most utterly perfect face you have ever seen. The man's features are careful and exact, the slope of his nose blade-straight, his jawline strong, his mouth pretty and plush and weirdly captivating in the flickering firelight. You cannot help but feel you know him, though you are incredibly certain you have never seen him before.

There would be no forgetting a man as beautiful as this.

"Who the hell are you?" you demand, shock rendering you frozen and dumb.

The man blinks, slow and catlike and so hauntingly recognizable. His eyebrows scrunch, as though something's confused him, and then he speaks, slowly and carefully, as if he's just getting a feel for the shape of words in his mouth.

"I am...Shouto," he says, his voice so deep and smooth. It reminds you so much of the deep, rumbling purr Shouto had just been letting out moments ago—your mouth drops open, disbelieving.

"You're Shouto?" you echo, thrown. Though you're beginning to realize that this devastatingly handsome, distractingly naked man is horribly familiar in hundreds of different ways—from the timbre of his voice to his eyes to his hair to the way his arm suddenly curls even more possessively about your waist, the way Shouto's tail sometimes does to keep you pressed close to him.

And with Shouto the dragon suddenly gone...

"You're my dragon? My Shouto?" you demand.

The man blinks, shifting in your lap so that's he's fully turned towards you. He props up on one hand, his face drawing alarmingly close as his other arm presses you into him. He looks very much as if he likes the sound of that.

"Yes, your Shouto," he purrs, pupils going darker. Your heartbeat suddenly kicks back to life in your chest, stuttering and tripping over itself as his large, hot palm presses proprietarily at the small of your back, as he leans in to bring his mouth close to yours.

"And you..." he says, his tone going rich and smoky and dark, like dragon fire. "You have always been mine."

#andie's writing #i hope this is what u were looking for anon!!!#character: todoroki shouto #dragon shouto au

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m1ckeyb3rry · 2 months

Text

── THE GLASS PRINCESS // FIVE

Series Synopsis: You wake up in a strange room with no memories, broken glass at your bedside, and a prince named Zuko as your only chance at figuring out who you really are.

Chapter Synopsis: You visit Ember Island with Jia-Li and grow closer with her and her brother. Everything comes to a head, though, when a party on the island goes wrong.

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Zuko x Reader

Chapter Word Count: 7.4k

Content Warnings: complicated relationships (strangers to friends to lovers to enemies to strangers to lovers to enemies to lovers), amnesia, alternate universe, lots of secrets and lying and mystery

A/N: would you guys believe if i said i thought we’d already know reader’s real identity this many words into the fic?? anyways enjoy the fun times while they last folks because trust it will be getting angsty at some point probably

Dear Zuko,

I’m sorry for whatever I did that made you angry with me. Please forgive me. I don’t want you to be upset.

Sincerely, Ursa

P.S. Destroying Chan’s house was wrong, but since it was him, I won’t chide you. Jia-Li and I also participated a bit, so it would be hypocritical, anyways.

P.P.S. I’m not friends with Ruon-Jian anymore.

Though you had been at sea for quite a bit of time now, you still had not grown bored of staring at the ocean. Jia-Li had sat back down under the shade of the silk canopy a while ago, eating a bowl full of ice cream and watching you in amusement as you stood at the prow and peered down into the water.

“It’s so beautiful,” you said.

“You’ve said that like a hundred times,” Jia-Li teased you.

“I know, I just…I just can't get over it. I’ve never seen anything quite so blue,” you said, though this was somewhat a lie. That blue from your memories, it resembled this water in depth, though not in texture — the water was clear and lucid, whereas the blue you remembered was harsh and matte.

“I guess I should be glad that you’re enjoying yourself already! Just think about it — you haven’t even gotten to Ember Island yet, and you’re having so much fun. Imagine how much better it’ll be once you’re there!” Jia-Li said.

“I can’t wait,” you said dreamily. “As long as we can go swimming, I’ll be happy.”

“Of course,” she said. “We’ll swim every day! My brother wrote to me, he said that the tides have been forgiving this season. Maybe I can convince him to teach you how to ride the flying dolphin fish. He always shoos me away whenever I ask, but it’s impossible to hate you, Ursa, so he’ll definitely say yes.”

You had been growing accustomed to that name. It still felt like an alias at times, but it was a familiar one, said around you so often that you barely even hesitated before responding to it.

“It’s fine if he doesn’t,” you said. “Though it would be nice to learn something like that…”

“Maybe you should ask him!” Jia-Li said. “There’s no way he can refuse then!”

“I wouldn’t want to be imposing,” you said immediately, shaking your head. “He shouldn’t have to do something just because he’s too guilty to say no.”

“No, I was more thinking along the lines of ‘you’re pretty and he doesn’t say no to pretty girls’, actually,” she said. “He’ll be happy to oblige you, but if it’s a request from his little sister, he’s likely to say no just to be contrary.”

“We’ll see,” you said after ruminating on it for a second. “Also, thank you for the compliment.”

“It’s just the truth,” Jia-Li said. “But since we’re on the subject — I know you don’t have memories, so you can’t answer about your past life, but what about recently? Have you had a crush on someone before?”

“A crush?” you said.

“Yeah! I mean, have you ever liked anyone?” she said.

“I like a lot of people,” you said. “For example, you and Ty Lee.”

“No, silly, not in that way. I mean liking someone romantically,” Jia-Li elaborated. “I know a few of the boys in the Royal Fire Academy for Boys have been talking about you, so I was just curious.”

“Oh!” you said, covering your face with your hands so that she could not see the embarrassment blooming on it. “I didn’t know that they were.”

“Sure, of course they are! They talk about a lot of us, so it makes sense, and anyways I wasn’t lying when I said you’re pretty. They’re all too scared to actually talk to you, but I’m sure that if you went to the market alone and met one of them, they’d propose on the spot,” she said.

The academies for girls and boys had separate campuses, but they were run conjointly, so that your breaks aligned and your events were held in tandem. Though you tended to avoid attending sporting matches, you had gone to one or two in your time as a student, so you supposed that must’ve been when you had become a viable prospect for whatever nonsense Jia-Li was spouting.

“I don’t talk to any boys,” you pointed out. “Even if any of them like me, I don’t know them, so I can’t say I like them back.”

“You talk to the prince a lot,” she said.

“What?” you said.

“Did you really think I didn’t notice how often you send letters to him via Bian?” she chided. You coughed uncomfortably.

“Um, well, he is my benefactor, so I have to keep him updated with my day-to-day activities,” you said. “It’s, er, part of my scholarship, you know.”

It was not, but Jia-Li seemed to buy the lie readily enough, nodding sagely, though not without a dramatic pout.

“That does check out, but it’s not nearly as exciting as a secret love affair or letters written out of pining and sent with longing, stamped with your heart’s greatest desire for a man that can never be your own!” she said.

“Sorry?” you said. “I don’t think any of that fits the situation, though.”

She sighed. “It’s okay.”

“What about you? Do you have any crushes?” you said, recognizing that this was the logical next step in the conversation. Jia-Li blushed and looked at the wooden paneling of the deck, using her fingers to twirl the hair which escaped her ponytail to frame her face.

“Yes,” she said. “Kind of. But it’s someone who I shouldn’t like, and who would never like me back, so I’ve never said anything.”

“Who?” you said. “Your family is pretty influential, isn’t it? I can’t imagine most anyone rejecting you. Unless you like Prince Zuko and are projecting your ‘heart’s greatest desire for a man that can never be your own’ onto me?”

“No way!” Jia-Li said. “It’s more complicated than him being of a higher ranking than me.”

“Then what is it?” you said.

“He’s my brother’s best friend!” she said, all in a rush, her entire face in flames at the confession.

“Oh,” you said, cringing in empathy. “I see. He would not approve?”

“Definitely not,” she said. “But there’s something worse than him not approving: marrying this boy would mean having Kaho as a sister-in-law!”

“Oh, Agni,” you said, slapping your palm against your forehead. How had you forgotten? It was the only reason Jia-Li was somewhat exempt from Kaho’s reign of terror, despite her association with you: her brother and Kaho’s were best friends. But if she liked Kaho’s brother, then what would that mean?

“That’s the scenario,” she said. “And to top it all off, he’s notoriously popular with girls. He probably wouldn’t even look at me twice. I’ll always just be Ruon-Jian’s annoying little sister to him.”

“I doubt that that’s true,” you said as you approached the docks. “Really, Jia-Li, I don’t think that's the case. You said his family will be on Ember Island at the same time as us?”

“Yeah,” she said quietly. “Although Kaho mentioned not being able to come — something about volunteering as a scribe for some official meeting that the Fire Lord will be hosting over the weekend.”

“Perfect! That’ll be our goal, then,” you said.

“Huh?” she said.

“We’re going to get you noticed by your crush! Who cares about the consequences? Kaho and your brother can just deal with it, and if they have something to say, then they can talk to me,” you said.

“That’s nice of you to offer, but what would you even do?” Jia-Li said.

“I don’t know,” you said. “Talk to them, I guess. Kaho already doesn’t like me, so it’s not a tragedy if she hates me more, and I don’t know your brother that well, so if he and I don’t get along after that kind of conversation, it won’t be a great loss.”

“Do you really think we can do something like that?” she said.

“We have to try,” you said. “You deserve it, Jia-Li.”

“Thank you,” she said, swallowing. “You’re a really good friend, Ursa. If you ever change your mind and decide you do like Prince Zuko after all, just let me know—”

“Jia-Li!” you warned her, though the threat fell flat, as she only laughed in return.

Jia-Li’s home on Ember Island was close to the docks, and it was right on the water. She told you as you walked up the seashell-lined path that that stretch of sand was actually a private beach that belonged to her family, so you wouldn’t have to worry about anyone bothering you while you were there.

“Sometimes my brother goes to the bigger beach a little ways away, though,” she said. “They like seeing other people our age and hanging out with them and whatnot.”

“Maybe when I’m a little more confident, we can try it,” you said. “For now, I’m just glad we have our own space where I don’t have to be worried about embarrassing myself in case I drown or something.”

“I wouldn’t let you drown,” Jia-Li said. “But I’m fine with that plan. It’s not like I have some huge desire to be on a massively crowded beach with the others, so it’s not heartbreaking for me if we just stay here the whole time.”

“Now, now, not the whole time,” you said. “We have to leave the house at some point so we can meet this guy you like!”

“I’m still not so sure about that,” she said, pulling out a key from her pocket and using it to unlock the front door. “Now hush, I don’t need my brother overhearing us. We can talk more later tonight or something.”

“On it,” you said, pretending to seal your lips shut. She rolled her eyes before motioning you after her. Carefully, you stepped into the grand foyer, scuffing your shoes on the welcome mat to rid them of the sand. Jia-Li smiled in approval, presumably at your politeness, and you smiled back at her.

“Mother, father!” Jia-Li shouted. “Ruon-Jian! Ursa and I are here!”

Jia-Li’s mother peeked her head around the corner, nodding demurely at the two of you, though it was deeper and more reverent when it came to you. She looked exactly like Jia-Li, only a little older, her features aged, the cut of her face sharper.

“It is good to meet you,” she said. Her voice was musical and quiet, carefully controlled — it was the culmination of years of training as the wife of a high-ranking Fire Nation official. It was what you and Jia-Li and Kaho and Ty Lee would one day sound like, once you had graduated from the academy and were ready to enter society properly.

“And you as well, madam,” you said, clasping your hands, bowing your head slightly. “Thank you for welcoming me into your home. It is greatly appreciated.”

“You are so polite,” Jia-Li’s mother said, the slightest traces of happiness flickering over her face. “I am glad Jia-Li has such an exemplary friend to look up to.”

“Nice to see you, too, mother,” Jia-Li said. Her mother laughed, opening her arms.

“Come here, then,” she said. Jia-Li brightened, racing into her mother’s arms and hugging her. You looked away, feeling like you were intruding on the moment and wishing you had your own mother to embrace like that.

“Where’s father?” Jia-Li said. Her mother sighed.

“He and Admiral Chan were called back to the palace for some important meeting, so they’re not on the island for the moment,” she said.

“It must be the meeting Kaho is scribing for,” you said.

“Most likely,” Jia-Li said. “Do you think he’ll be able to come back before I leave for the academy again? I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“I’m not sure, darling,” her mother said. “If he is still in the capital by the time your boat leaves the docks, I will send him a message to stay in the capital and receive you before he returns.”

“Thank you,” she said. “What about Ruon-Jian? Where is he?”

“Oh, that boy, he’s being as troublesome as ever. I believe he’s locked in his room at the moment. Ruon-Jian! Please come downstairs and say hello to your sister and her friend!” her mother said. It was strange — even yelling, she sounded soft and polite, which should not have made sense but somehow did.

“Why?” a deep, grumbling voice said. There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, evidence that Jia-Li’s brother was on his way but wasn’t exactly happy about it. “I don’t wanna meet Jia-Li and her stupid friend — woah.”

Her brother was tall and willowy, with shaggy brown hair that fell into his face, giving him an effortlessly cool appearance. His eyes were the same color as Jia-Li’s, but that was about where their similarities ended. If you had seen him outside, without introduction, you wouldn’t have been able to guess that they were siblings in the first place.

“This is Ruon-Jian,” Jia-Li said when it became obvious that her brother wasn’t going to introduce himself. He was far too busy staring at something, his jaw dropped and his eyebrows raised, though when Jia-Li spoke, he was able to pull himself together, running his hand through his hair and then smirking.

“That’s right,” he said. “The name’s Ruon-Jian.”

“That’s what I just said,” Jia-Li said.

“What about you?” he said. You looked from side to side, wondering who he was talking to, and then you realized it was you, which meant that the thing he had been staring at was also…

“Ursa,” you said. “I’m Ursa.”

You weren’t sure how you felt about the attention. Maybe you liked it, or maybe you didn’t. It was strange and fluttering and unfamiliar in the pit of your stomach, and behind your back, you wrung your hands nervously.

“Ursa,” he said. “Great name. It’s as pretty as you are.”

“Um, I guess if I knew who my parents were, I’d pass along the compliment,” you said.

“Wicked,” he said. “So, what are you doing on Ember Island?”

“She’s my friend, idiot. My roommate from the academy,” Jia-Li said.

“Shh, Jia-Li, I’m trying to get to know her better! Stop talking and interrupting her,” Ruon-Jian said. You exchanged bewildered looks with Jia-Li’s mother, while at your side, Jia-Li fumed, the air shimmering from the heat she gave off as a Firebender.

“She’s right,” you said. “I’m her roommate back at school. She’s one of my greatest friends.”

“Sick,” he said.

“I don’t think I am,” you said, puzzled.

“It’s slang,” Jia-Li said.

“I understand,” you said, although you didn’t, not fully. This way of speaking was entirely foreign to you, but you figured that if you had Jia-Li with you to translate, you’d probably be alright.

“Who’s your family, Ursa?” Ruon-Jian said.

“I don’t have one,” you said.

“Word?” he said.

“He’s asking if that’s the truth,” Jia-Li whispered. “It’s like saying ‘really?’”

“It is the truth,” you said. “I have no memories. I am the girl that the royal family sponsored to study at the academy after I was rescued from the Earth Kingdom.”

“No way!” Ruon-Jian said. “That’s so cool!”

“Not really,” Jia-Li said. “She doesn’t remember anything. Including her family. Idiot.”

“If I could forget you, I’d do so in a heartbeat,” Ruon-Jian said.

“Well, I’d do the same!” Jia-Li snapped. You cleared your throat.

“I’m just grateful to Prince Zuko for saving me and ensuring my future,” you said. “He, and the rest of the royal family, are likely the reason I’m still alive and standing before you today.”

“Word,” Ruon-Jian said.

“I am not lying this time, either,” you affirmed.

“No, that was more of an expression of agreement,” Jia-Li said.

“I am a little confused,” you said. “But I shall trust you on this one, Jia-Li.”

“Do you have plans for the week?” Ruon-Jian said.

“Jia-Li is going to teach me to swim,” you said, beaming at Jia-Li, who gave you a high-five in return. “Beyond that, no, not really.”

“We were going to ask you if you could teach her to ride the flying dolphin fish,” Jia-Li said. “I know you’d never teach me, but—”

“Definitely!” Ruon-Jian said, cutting Jia-Li off. “I’ll teach you anything you want, Ursa.”

Heat rushed into your face, and you bit your lower lip, shifting from foot to foot nervously. Glancing at Jia-Li, who shrugged, you trained your attention on the ground instead of looking at Ruon-Jian when you responded.

“I think that that would be fun,” you said.

“We’ll get started tomorrow,” he said.

“Ruon-Jian, usually I’m joking when I say it, but you really are an idiot! How can you teach her to ride flying dolphin fish if she doesn’t even know how to swim?” Jia-Li said.

“The day after tomorrow, then!” Ruon-Jian declared. “See you around, Ursa!”

With that, he bounded back upstairs, taking the steps two at a time, leaving you, Jia-Li, and her mother standing in the foyer, somehow even more confused than before.

The next day was somehow sunnier and brighter than the previous, which was a relief, as it was the day you were supposed to learn to swim. At present, you were wearing one of Jia-Li’s sets of swimming clothes, your towel spread out on the sand as you looked at the ocean with furrowed brows.

“You ready?” Jia-Li said.

“I think so,” you said.

“Let’s go!” she said. Without waiting for you, she charged into the water, flopping onto her stomach once it was deep enough for her to do so. Not even taking a second to think, you sprinted in after her, and when the water rose to the level of your thighs, you didn’t second-guess yourself. Using your legs to push off, you dove into the water, jetting through it, forcing your eyes open and laughing soundlessly as you wove amongst the flowing bubbles and colorful fish that decorated the ocean.

It was many seconds later that you pushed your way to the surface, taking a deep breath, your legs churning the water so that you stayed afloat. Some ways away, Jia-Li had done the same, though she was busily scanning the shore for where you might be.

“Jia-Li!” you called out. “Over here!”

“Ursa!” she said, clapping her hands in delight. “I guess you do know how to swim!”

“I guess so!” you said, overcome with a rush of euphoria at the weightless feeling the water afforded you. Jia-Li paddled over to where you were treading, doing the same beside you so that you two could talk.

“That means you can learn to ride the flying dolphin fish sooner rather than later,” she said slyly. You lowered your eyes.

“Maybe,” you said.

“I knew it!” she squealed. “You have a crush on my brother!”

“No!” you said, far too quickly to sound convincing. “I mean. No.”

“You do!” Jia-Li said. “I can’t understand why you’d ever have a crush on him, but I guess there’s really someone out there for everyone.”

“I don’t even know him,” you said. “Sure, he’s cool and all, but I don’t know the first thing about who he is as a person. How can I say for certain that I have a crush or anything?”

“That’s why you have to get to know him,” Jia-Li said, poking you in the forehead. “Right?”

“True,” you said. “Then I can tell you for certain how I feel. What about you, though?”

“What about me?” she said innocently.

“When will I get to meet this mysterious crush of yours? You can hardly expect to pursue him if you never even go to see him!” you said. She splashed you with water.

“I’m not about to just go visit his house for no reason! It would be weird,” she said.

“Maybe a little bit,” you said. “But there has to be a way for you to accidentally run into him! And when I say accidentally, of course it won’t be an accident at all, but it’ll appear to be one.”

“Just forget about it,” Jia-Li said. “It’s not a big deal. If it’s meant to be, something will come up.”

“If that’s what you want,” you said. “But you have to promise me that if something comes up, as you say it will, you’ll really try your hardest.”

“Okay,” Jia-Li said in determination. “If there is some opportunity for me to talk to him, I’ll do it.”

“That’s the way!” you said. “Now, let’s race. I want to see how fast I am, too.”

“First one to that bit of driftwood wins?” Jia-Li said, pointing at a smoothed-over log floating in the distance.

“You’re on,” you said. “Three, two — hey, I didn’t say go yet! Jia-Li!”

You could not remember ever having as much fun as you did during that time on Ember Island. You and Jia-Li spent hours lazing around on the beach or swimming in the water, eating whatever her family’s chef prepared for you, drinking fruit juice that was sometimes sweet, sometimes sour, oftentimes both. At night, you would stay up until the moon was high in the sky, giggling and exchanging secrets and stories, making fun of your classmates and the boys in the Royal Academy for Boys.

“You know, one of them has a shrine dedicated to Kaho,” Jia-Li told you one night. You howled with laughter.

“No!” you said.

“Yes, he really does! He found a portrait of her and leaves money and food in front of it every week,” she said.

“You’re making that up,” you said.

“Nope, I found out during one of the sporting matches,” she said. “I was a little disgusted, but now that I see the humor in it, I confess I’m entirely amused by the entire thing.”

You would sleep late into the day, sometimes missing the morning entirely and only waking up for the afternoons. Jia-Li’s mother never scolded you two for it, saying that she was happy you were catching up on your rest, since dark circles were not comely on a woman or something along those lines.

Sometimes, Ruon-Jian would spend a few minutes with you both, but for the most part, he was off with Chan, his best friend and Kaho’s older brother. When he was with you, he was usually sitting at your side, making fun of his sister and complimenting you all at once. And even though you barely knew him, you had to admit that it was nice to have someone paying such close attention to you for once, treating you as if you were worthy of his time and entirely normal, the way he was, instead of tiptoeing around you and your lost memories.

“You ready, Ursa?” Ruon-Jian said, plopping down on the bench beside you as you and Jia-Li ate breakfast — or was it lunch, at this point?

“For what, Ruon-Jian?” you said, batting your eyelashes at him. From across the table, Jia-Li pretended to gag.

He elbowed you in the side. “To learn to ride flying dolphin fish, of course!”

“Yes!” you said, shooting to your feet. “I thought you’d forgotten!”

“How could I forget about you?” he said. “The currents just haven’t been right for a beginner recently. You should’ve seen how badly Chan wiped out the other day!”

You glanced at Jia-Li. She mimed falling over, and you gave her a discreet thumbs up.

“You didn’t fall, though, did you?” you said. Ruon-Jian beamed and flexed his arms.

“’Course not. I’m way better than Chan,” he bragged.

“Very impressive. Then there must be no one in the Fire Nation more equipped to teach me,” you said.

“Not a single person,” he agreed.

“I can’t bear to watch any more of this,” Jia-Li muttered to no one in particular. “You guys have fun. I’m going to collect our clothes so that they can get washed, Ursa.”

She left without another word, though as she walked away, you thought you caught her saying something about how you could do better. Ignoring it, you followed after Ruon-Jian towards the beach behind his house, struggling to keep up with his brisk stride.

“There’s a pod of flying dolphin fish that visits our beach pretty regularly,” he said. “We should be able to catch a ride there.”

“Okay,” you said. “Is it safe?”

“We’ll ride the same one, so I can look after you, but on the whole, flying dolphin fish are very docile, so as long as the waves are gentle, it’s fine,” he said. “That’s why I’ve been waiting to take you out.”

“That sounds good,” you said. He whistled.

“That’s how we call them. Now, we just have to wait until they come,” he said, pulling you forward to stand beside him.

“Then what?” you said.

“It’s a surprise,” he said. “Just kidding! Then we swim out and find the friendliest one and get on.”

It took a few minutes, but eventually, in the distance, there were splashes. Ruon-Jian whooped in delight, grabbing your hand and dragging you after him before you could protest.

“They were fast today!” he said. “Let’s go before they decide to leave again!”

Ruon-Jian was a little faster than you at swimming, though you had been faster than Jia-Li. You didn’t feel insulted, though; he spent much of his time in the ocean, so it was to be expected that he was better than both you and his sister alike. The end result was that he reached the flying dolphin fish before you, and had already mounted one by the time you swam up to its side.

“How do I get on?” you said.

“You don’t,” he said, using his legs to hold onto the body of the flying dolphin fish and then bending over to pull you out of the water and set you in front of him.

“Thanks,” you said, suddenly very aware of how close he was to you, how he held onto your waist and rested his chin on your shoulder.

“Just rest your hands on its head,” he said. “Like that. Good job! I’ll do all the steering and stuff with my legs, so don’t worry about that for now. All you have to do is focus on your balance.”

“Got it,” you said.

“Then let’s get going!” he said, clicking at the flying dolphin fish, which took off with a push of its powerful tail, propelling itself through the water. Its speed was breathtaking, and as the wind rushed against your face, tears gathered in your eyes, tears of joy and freedom and also of regret. When was the last time you had felt like this? When was the last time you had been so happy? Why didn’t you endeavor to be so more often?

Suddenly, the flying dolphin fish took off into the air, and then you were soaring. Everything faded away, the rest of the world and Ruon-Jian and the flying dolphin fish and even you. It was all nothing. You were all nothing. There was only the sky and the sea and the smell of salt on the wind, blue taking over your vision and almost, for a second, reminding you of something else.

Then you were slamming back into the water, the flying dolphin fish not even slowing its pace as it went from air to ocean. The spray that hit your face from the impact was enough to wake you up from the daze, and you were reminded of where you were and who you were and what you were doing.

“That was so fun,” you said as you and Ruon-Jian re-entered the house, still dripping with saltwater despite the towels wrapped around you both.

“It’s sick, right? I knew you’d like it,” Ruon-Jian said. “Speaking of things you might like…my friend Chan is holding a party later tonight. You wanna come?”

You perked up at the name Chan, knowing he was none other than the object of Jia-Li’s affections.

“Yes, but only if Jia-Li can come, too,” you said.

“Aw, no way! Chan never leaves her alone, and I don’t want my best friend bothering my little sister. It’s so odd!” he said.

“It’ll be really lonely for me to be at a party where I don’t even know anyone,” you said with a small frown.

“That’s fair,” he said.

“And she’s my friend, so it’ll be more fun for me if she’s there,” you continued. “That’s why I’ll only go if she can, too.”

“Okay, okay,” Ruon-Jian said. “Fine. She can come, too.”

“Yay! Thank you so much!” you said, clapping. “It’s going to be so much fun.”

“Sure will be,” he said. “You should go get ready, though. There’ll be a lot of influential people there, so you should try to look your best.”

“Of course,” you said. “See you soon!”

Luckily, Jia-Li had been right in assuming that you and her would be the same size. You had been wearing her clothes for the entire vacation, and tonight was no different, as she picked out something nice for you to put on for the party.

“Ursa, I’m convinced you’re a miracle worker,” Jia-Li said, shaking her head. “Seriously! How is it that you managed to get us invited to one of Chan’s parties? They’re super selective.”

“Simple. Your brother invited me, and I told him I’d only go if you could, too. He was initially a bit reluctant, since he seemed to think Chan wouldn’t leave you alone, but he came around,” you said.

“You’re the best,” she said.

“I honestly might’ve just said no from the get go, but I heard that Chan was hosting, and I knew we had to attend. This is literally the sign you were waiting for!” you said. “What are the odds that your brother would invite me to a party hosted by the man of your dreams?”

“Pretty high, considering he thinks you’re really attractive and the so-called man of my dreams is his best friend,” Jia-Li said. “But I know what you’re saying, and I agree. Enough about that, though. The only thing left is for us to do our best to look amazing!”

Because Ruon-Jian and Chan were best friends, you arrived at the party before anyone else so that you could help Chan set up. His house was enormous, according to Ruon-Jian, and he had said it would be greatly appreciated if you all could lend a hand. With a meaningful look at Jia-Li, you had accepted.

“I made sure that Chan knew what food you like, Ursa, so that he could serve it,” Ruon-Jian said, his arm tossed around your shoulders. “I want you to have the best time!”

“Aren’t you so romantic, brother?” Jia-Li said dryly.

“Thank you, Ruon-Jian,” you said.

“Anytime,” he said with a smirk.

“Ruon-Jian!” a tall, muscular boy said as he opened the door to the mansion. “I thought you’d never get here.”

“Jia-Li took forever getting ready, dude,” Ruon-Jian said. “By the way, Chan, this is Ursa. And Ursa, this is Chan.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” you said.

“Pleasure’s all mine,” Chan said. “Did you say Jia-Li? Is she here?”

“I am,” Jia-Li from where she was hiding behind you and Ruon-Jian. “Hi, Chan.”

“Jia-Li! It’s been ages since I saw you last. How have you been?” Chan said, yanking her by the arm and into the house.

“Quit flirting with my sister!” Ruon-Jian shouted, though he went ignored by both Chan and Jia-Li. You patted him on the arm.

“It’s okay,” you said. “She doesn’t seem upset about it, so you shouldn’t be, either.”

“It’s just so freaky,” he said with a shudder. “Jia-Li’s my baby sister. She shouldn’t have guys interested in her, let alone guys that have been my best friend since I could count.”

“She’s grown up now,” you said. “She can make her own decisions. You should just support her.”

“If you think that’s what’s best,” he said reluctantly. “You’re pretty mature, you know.”

“It’s funny, I feel like I’ve heard that before, though I don’t quite recall who might’ve said such a thing,” you said. “It doesn’t matter; either way, thank you.”

Jia-Li and Chan were too busy talking with each other, and Ruon-Jian was too busy fixing his hair in the mirror, so the brunt of the party set up fell to you. You didn’t mind, though, liking the act of working, and you were so efficient that everything was ready right around dusk.

“The place looks great, Ursa,” Ruon-Jian said when you rejoined him in front of the mirror.

“Your hair does, too, so you can stop fiddling with it,” you said. He pulled you in by the waist, flashing a peace sign in the mirror.

“Don’t we look so good together?” he said. “It’s like…like you were meant to stand beside me.”

“I suppose so,” you said, though you weren’t sure if you would go so far as to say all that. Still, it was nice to know that someone thought you belonged with them, so when he began to lean in, you did not move away.

Right when his lips were about to brush against yours, there was a knock on the door. He drew back in irritation.

“Who is here this early?” he said. “Whatever. Where were we again?”

The moment was ruined, though, so you pretended to be preoccupied with straightening your clothes, your head tilted downwards so that he could not even catch your eye.

“These are some really punctual party guests,” you said. “No one else is here yet.”

“Yeah, punctual’s one word for it,” Ruon-Jian said, clearly taking the hint you had given him and hopefully not being too miffed about it. “Wait, it’s that group we invited when we were on the beach earlier! Should’ve known they’d be the type.”

“On the — Ty Lee?” you said.

The first one to enter, Ty Lee turned in search of whoever had said her name. When she noticed you standing beside Ruon-Jian, one of his arms still around your waist, your posture clearly still set towards him, her jaw dropped.

“Ursa?” she said. “What are you doing here?”

“I feel like that’s a question I should be asking you,” you said as she cartwheeled over to drag you away from Ruon-Jian and into a hug so tight you temporarily stopped breathing.

“We were just hanging out on the beach when we got invited to come by Chan and Ruon-Jian!” she said. “I can’t believe you’re here, too.”

“Ruon-Jian is Jia-Li’s older brother, and he’s best friends with Chan, so I think that my presence is a little more explicable than yours,” you said. “When you say we, though, who do you mean?”

“Me, Mai, Azula, and Zuko!” Ty Lee said, pointing at each of them in turn. Mai was sitting by a painting, glaring whenever someone tried to approach her, and the girl who must’ve been the infamous Princess Azula was talking to Chan while Jia-Li stood behind her, ostensibly shoved out of the way so that the princess could have her turn talking to the host.

As for Zuko, he was still awkwardly standing by the doorframe, though when he glanced over at you, his eyes widened. At first, relief filled them, but when he noticed your proximity to Ruon-Jian, a strange sort of malcontent settled over his expression.

“Zuko!” you said as he stormed over to you. Ty Lee looked at him and then back at you before promptly dashing over to Mai’s side, the only one who didn’t get glared at for daring to go near her. “What are you—?”

“Who is he?” he said.

“The name’s Ruon-Jian, dude,” Ruon-Jian said, holding out his hand for Zuko to shake. Zuko looked at it disdainfully before scoffing and then returning his gaze to you.

“He’s Jia-Li’s older brother,” you said.

“Right,” Zuko said sardonically. “That’s why the two of you are so close.”

“I’ve been staying at his house the whole time I’ve been on Ember Island, so yeah, it’s probably a contributing factor,” you said.

“I’m gonna go get some food, Ursa. There are some freaky vibes here right now that I don’t really approve of,” Ruon-Jian said, inching away.

“Do you like him?” Zuko said. You blinked, taken aback by the direct question. In his letters, he was so kind and tactful, so you had come to associate him with that sort of language. The elegance with which he wrote, the careful concern he always showed for whatever you said — all of it had caused a fondness for him to grow in you.

“He’s just my friend’s older brother,” you said. The way he was speaking now was as if he was accusing you and you had to defend yourself or face judgment, but what crime had you even committed in the first place? “He taught me to ride flying dolphin fish and invited me to the party. That’s all.”

“Of course,” he said. “He’s so cool, with his dumb hair and clothes and flying dolphin fish, so of course you like him. No surprise there.”

“Are you angry?” you said. “Why?”

“Am I angry?” he said. “No!”

“You sound a little angry,” you said meekly. “I just wanted to make sure.”

“Why would it even matter to you?” he said.

“I don’t know?” you said. “I was only asking.”

“Don’t ask questions for no reason, especially when you don’t care about the answer in the first place,” he said.

“But that’s not the case. I did care about the answer, or else I wouldn’t have asked,” you said.

“Well, next time, just ask that boyfriend of yours,” he said.

“Ruon-Jian?” you said.

“Yes?” Ruon-Jian said, appearing out of nowhere. “Here, this is for you.”

“You have such horrible timing,” you said under your breath, accepting the plate he handed you. “Zuko, have you eaten anything yet? There’s a lot of really good food out. I’m sure you’ll like it.”

“It’s all Ursa’s favorites!” Ruon-Jian said. “I made sure of it myself.”

“Oh, yeah?” Zuko said with a sneer. “What the hell do you know about her, anyways?”

“Yo, chill, dude,” Ruon-Jian said, holding his hands in the air. “Who even are you? I probably know more than you! Her and I are really close, you see.”

It was probably the worst thing he could’ve said. Zuko’s face darkened, and then, before any of you knew it, he was grabbing Ruon-Jian by the collar and throwing him into a nearby vase. You jumped at the noise before rushing over to help Ruon-Jian stand.

“I’m fine,” Ruon-Jian said, waving you off as he staggered to his feet. “What is your problem, dude?”

“Stay away from her,” Zuko said.

“Who are you to say that?” you said. “My benefactor? That doesn’t mean you get to control my life, Zuko! Why does it matter to you who I’m hanging out with? He’s from a perfectly respectable family, so it’s not like it’ll reflect badly on you. I don’t get what the big deal is!”

“Seriously?” Zuko said. “You think I care what family he’s from? Do what you want! It doesn’t matter to me. It’s what you’ll do anyways, so why should I try to stop you?”

“What happened?” you said. “Why has your opinion of me lowered so thoroughly? What have I done to offend you so greatly? I know that you are angry, and I know it is because of me, but I cannot understand why!”

“There’s a lot of things you can’t understand,” he said.

“I heard a crash, is everyone — who broke my nana’s vase?” Chan shrieked as he came back into the main room. Ruon-Jian pointed at Zuko. “You! I’ve had enough of you, alright? Get out of my party!”

“I was just leaving,” Zuko said, though not without one last glare at all of you.

“See you around, loser!” Ruon-Jian said.

“Jia-Li’s right,” you said as Mai, Ty Lee, and Princess Azula excused themselves as well. “You really are an idiot. Do you know who that was?”

“Some jealous loser?” Ruon-Jian said. You opened your mouth to argue before deflating, knowing that there was no point.

“Just forget about it. Let’s try to enjoy ourselves for the rest of the party,” you said.

Some time later, there was a knock on the door. Chan opened it, and then his face fell.

“Hello, Chan,” a voice that could only be Princess Azula’s said. “Thanks for inviting us earlier, but I have some unfortunate news to share.”

“The party’s over,” Zuko said, and then all four of them were in the room, sending bursts of fire everywhere, kicking the tables in half, swinging from the chandeliers and slicing up the paintings.

“What is going on?” Jia-Li shouted, covering her head with her hands.

“I have no idea,” you said. “Hey, what are you guys doing?”

Chan screamed as Mai threw a set of knives into a pair of antique paintings on the walls and the chandelier came crashing to the ground under Ty Lee’s weight. Jia-Li pulled you out of the way of a stray lick of blue fire from Azula, and you buried your face in your hands.

“This was a pretty terrible party,” Ty Lee said, dropping lightly to her feet in front of you. “You could say we’re showing our appreciation as guests!”

“By destroying his house?” you said as Zuko kicked an entire pillar in half.

“Yep! Wanna join?” Ty Lee said.

“No!” you and Jia-Li said in unison.

“To each their own!” Ty Lee said before springing away.

“Well…” Jia-Li said. “It would feel nice.”

“What? Why?” you said.

“I thought Chan was confessing to me on the balcony earlier, but it turns out that even though he does like me, he wants to live a free and unburdened life, without the commitment of having a girlfriend. He told me that the best he could offer me is a long-term arrangement in which he does what he wants and then spends some time with me whenever I’m on the island,” Jia-Li said.

“That’s horrible,” you said.

“And while I was out there, he told me that Ruon-Jian invited Mai and Ty Lee because he thought they were hot and he wanted a chance with them,” she continued. “So there’s that.”

You scowled, and even though you hadn’t been betrayed, it felt as if you had been. Naturally, you held no claim on Ruon-Jian, but the entire reason you had grown close to him in the first place was because you liked being someone’s priority. If you weren’t even that, then what was the point?

“Jia-Li,” you said. “Since it’s the prince and princess in charge of the destruction, you could consider it a royal order.”

“You could,” Jia-Li said, a grin creeping onto her face.

“And as students of the Royal Fire Academy for Girls, we are duty-bound to follow all royal orders,” you said.

“That we are,” she said.

“I think that means we have to participate,” you said.

“I think you’re right, Ursa,” she said.

“Of course, it’s not because we’re angry at Ruon-Jian or Chan or anything,” you said.

“Definitely not,” she agreed. “We’re just following in the prince and princess’s example.”

“That’s exactly correct,” you said. “After all, what are we but their humble and obedient servants?”

“Nothing, indeed!” Jia-Li said brightly. “All hail the royal family!”

With that, she ignited her hands and placed them right on a portrait of Chan as a child. You cheered before taking a steak knife and using it to cut up the curtains, tossing them into the fire she had started as kindling.

“I’m glad we’re friends, Ursa,” Jia-Li said.

“Yeah, I’m glad we’re friends, too.”

Ursa,

It wasn’t anything you did. I’m sorry; I was upset about something unrelated and took it out on you. You have no need to ask for my forgiveness — if anyone should be doing that, it’s me. Please, please forgive me for being so angry. I promise that I will make it up to you the next time we meet.

Yours, Zuko

P.S. I did not think that you and Jia-Li would join in, but I can’t say that I’m disappointed.

P.P.S. Ruon-Jian is ugly and his hair is terrible. You don’t need to be friends with him, anyways.

#zuko x reader #zuko x y/n #zuko x you #zuko #avatar the last airbender #atla #reader insert #canon au #the glass princess #m1ckeyb3rry writes

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groceryreceiptss · 5 months

Text

𝐲𝐨𝐮'𝐫𝐞 𝐦𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝 | j.p.

james potter x reader | word count : 7.2k | requested

↳ part one / part two ───✧₊∘

summary : james always said that you were his best friend and you always said that he was yours. but you didn't realize that the meaning of the words had changed for you until it was a week before the yule ball and you two were walking through the snow covered streets of hogsmeade (reader's pov)

contains : my writing (warning lmao), pretty cheesy. (childhood) best friends to lovers!! flufff, herbal tea slander (sorry if you like it), lots of out-of-place references (like pjo and spiderman, i'm SORRY, i can't help it). i’m never sure on what to put in here to be honest so just let me know!

a/n : soo i might have gone a biiiiit overboard and make it a two part! this one takes place in hogsmeade (mostly), told from reader's point of view. i'm planning for the second one to be from james' point of view and for it to take place during the yule ball (no promises on when i’m going to finish it though TT )

credits : lovelyy dividers by @cafekitsune, pins i used (1) (2) (3)

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The castle seemed to have its own separate life in December. Snow, trees, warm hearth, lights, candles, sweaters, hot drinks, and not to mention the food. The students always seemed to be reinvigorated by the time this month came too. Excited whispers floated the hallways in strings of exclamations.

This year, they were way louder than usual though. And the reason for it was visible in every room. The vibrant yet elegant posters, the talks of elaborate plans, scenes of people asking and being asked (and the cheers that would follow it), conversations of suits and dresses, and absolutely nonchalant talks of dates and hopes.The Yule Ball.

This extravagance of the event only happened once in every four years, so of course, everyone was excited. Nothing could be more thrilling than a chance to live out your silly teenage dreams and be like one in the movies.

You loved it too. The smiles, the laughter, the gossip, the drama. It was fun, though you weren't expecting much for yourself. You weren't being a downer or whatever (which was what James would definitely tell you), it was just that, if truth be told, you had learned not to hope too much in anything. Retrospective had taught you a long time ago that it would only tarnish the joy out of a perfectly good moment.

Today was a festive Saturday morning. Talks of the ball were echoing off the walls in a more persistent way than ever. Understandable for they only had a week left before the festivities, anxiety and anticipation were sure rising.

You were just about to enter The Great Hall, the comforting smell of good breakfast already reached your nose, before someone suddenly threw their arms around you from the back, throwing you off balance a bit, his warmth enveloping you. James Potter.

Funny how someone's laugh could be so familiar to one's ears.

"How are you in this fine lovely morning?" The bespectacled boy greeted you as you turned around, eyes meeting his, your lips turned upward mirroring his smile. He really did have the most annoying charming smile. It was infectious.

"Freezing to death," you responded, slinging his arm around your shoulders as both of you walked the rest of the way to the hall. "Where are the others?”

"Already there," he scoffed, and continued on dramatically, "They left me to fend for myself!"

"To be fair, you are a heavy sleeper."

"You're one to talk," he grinned at you, "Why do you think both of us are the last ones to arrive?"

And he hit it right. You straightened up, ready to defend yourself. "Well, look–"

But he was way ahead of you. "Good book?" he smiled knowingly. And right again.

"So good," You nodded your head vigorously. "You should read it sometimes. I'll add that to your list." You waved your hand away casually, as if to say ‘done and done.’

"I look forward to reading it."

You smiled up at him, agreed. "Good, because you must." And before you could stop it, you went on telling him all about your reading from last night.

He didn't seem to mind, he never did. In fact, he always seemed to be interested in everything you had to say, so you continued. It had become a routine. You told him about a book he had never heard of, he told him about a match you had never watched.

James Potter was your best friend. Always had and always would be. The two of you had known each other since you were five and knew nothing and everything. Both of your parents had been best friends and it just progressed naturally. They would often spend the holidays and breaks together and so his house was yours as much as yours was his.

And when both of you got the Hogwarts letter at the age of eleven and were sorted into Gryffindor, it was inevitable that you grew even closer. Everything about him had become so familiar now. It was like you knew him at the back of your hand.

His favorite color, his favorite food, his favorite song. How his eyes brightened a bit when he laughed. The dimples that came with his smile. How he would bite his lip a bit when McGonagall caught him and his friends in their mischievous schemes, or when he was thinking of a lie to tell her.

How he liked to put his arm around your shoulder, or tucked it in the inside of your arm every time he saw you. His glasses that were always lopsided, and his hair that was always tousled. Just like it was right now.

Both of you sat down in front of Remus and Sirius, who were laughing about something. Crisp toast, bacon, and eggs on the plates completely abandoned. You eyed them closely and wondered how two people could be so oblivious to one another when they were sitting that close to each other. And look at Remus! He was almost red.

If only you did not have a sense of decency and could have it in you to interfere with these two, then maybe, just maybe, they'd finally admit their feelings and go to the Yule Ball together.

"Where's Wormtail?" James asked them, getting himself a plate of eggs and sausages. You decided to grab some toasts, marmalade, and some eggs.

"Don't know," Sirius shrugged. "Probably hatching a plan to ask Jane out."

"Doesn't she already have a date?" You asked him, confusion on your face.

"Not sure," Remus chimed in, "it's hard to keep track these days." True that.

The four of you talked some more. You and James tried multiple times trying to get these two to talk about their dates to the ball—or more like the lack of it—and did a bait and switch. And you were good at it, but boy were they better.

After their plates had emptied, Remus said that he was going to make a quick run at the library and Sirius, very subtly and casually, offered that he could come too because he was "bored." You and James could barely contain your smiles until they disappeared out of view.

He grabbed a bit of your toast, put some of his fruits on your plate in exchange for it, and asked, "So... what about you?"

"What about me?"

"Who are you going with to the dance?"

"Oh," you pondered a bit, biting one of the strawberries. "I don't know. I'm thinking of going by myself, maybe? I think it'd be fun."

"No one has asked you yet?" He asked, surprised.

You let out a laugh at his expression. "Don't pretend to be shocked now, James. I don't exactly have a line of people waiting to ask me out."

"People here have bad tastes then.” He concluded.

You shrugged, “I don’t mind. It’d be a pity spending the night with some stranger I don’t know, or even like, anyway. What about you and Lily?”

James' die-hard affection for the red-head girl was never a secret. The entire school knew it. It had been going on since first year and you doubted it would ever stop.

The way he always talked about her — with so much fondness and care. It was, the way she smiled, the way she laughed, the way she talked. But you noticed the way he looked at her too. It was like he fell in love every time he laid his eyes on her.

You figured that he was going to at least work up the courage to ask her out to the ball, even if it would only end up in vain, but no news from him so far. It was weird, like a sudden change of the weather. You had had to endure listening to him for what seemed like ages after Lily talked to him for the first time. And then another and another and another about his failed attempts at asking her out. What's with the quiet and silence now?

Was the fact that she turned him down again for the dance hurt him that bad? Oh, now you felt guilty for asking.

What was so strange, though, was that there wasn't sadness on his face now. No hidden pain or aches. Instead, he said, ever so casually, your toast in his hand "I haven't asked her yet."

You were taken aback, shocked, eyebrows scrunched up. "What?"

James' fruitless efforts with Lily was also very much widely known, but he was never ashamed of it. You couldn't remember the last time he passed an opportunity to confess his— as he said it —undying love for her.

"What, what do you mean you haven't asked her out?" You sputtered out.

He chuckled nervously at your response, raising his hands in trying to calm you down. "Is it really that surprising?"

"Considering the fact that you, James Potter, have been after her for like forever and never faltered in his efforts to make her know that he is head over heels for her, then I'd say, yeah. It's pretty surprising." You responded, baffled. "What changed?"

"Nothing! I just figured that she'd turn me down anyway and didn't bother. And then I heard she already accepted someone else's offer anyways." he shrugged.

"Oh," you put his hand in yours and gave it a squeeze. "I'm sorry."

James squeezed yours in return and gave you a smile. "Nothing to be sorry about. I'm fine, honestly." he assured you. “I think it might be for the best.”

Though you didn’t believe that, he did look fine. And James was never one to hide his feelings from you— in fact it was the total opposite, he was always ever so dramatic — so you took his words. You bit your lip and asked, "You want some tea?"

"What is it this time?" He asked as he took a bite of the egg.

You grabbed one of the teacups and gave it a sniff. "Oh," you scrunched up your nose from the smell, "Herbal, I think." you put it down. "That's a no then."

He groaned, "Why couldn't they just serve normal tea?"

"Because then we won't have a ‘refined’ palate." You rolled your eyes, quoting something Madam Pince had told you in the library for what seemed like a long time ago.

"That's a silly excuse for serving only herbal tea at breakfast."

You couldn't say that you disagree.

"So,” he started. “What are you doing today? Any plans?"

"No,” you shook your head, “Nothing much." You poured yourself a glass of orange juice and passed the jug to him. "I'll probably just read. You?"

He poured one himself and grinned at you. "That depends, you want to go to Hogsmeade?"

"Uh-oh," you let out a laugh, sensing trouble. "What are you up to?"

He gasped dramatically. "What do you mean ‘what are you up to?’ I am offended.” He placed a hand on his chest for good measure. “Could it be possible that maybe I just want to spend the day at Hogsmeade with my best friend?”

You raised your eyebrows at him.

He laughed. “I’m not going to do anything, honestly. And It'll be fun, I promise!" he nudged you. "We haven't gone there in a while." Well, that was true.

"It's cold," you argued.

"I have an extra coat if you want double."

"It will be very crowded."

"Then we'll find some place no one knows."

"That's impossible."

"Anything is possible, love. Please." He pleaded, looking at you with his big doe eyes. It was so unfair of the world to give someone such gorgeous brown eyes and left the others to dust. So unfair.

You sighed, letting out at last. He would be the death of you one of these days. "Fine," — which brought a whispered "Yes!" from him— "But we're going to have to visit the quill shop."

"Consider it done."

──────────────────∘

Hogsmeade was truly beautiful in the winter. Its snow-covered roads, the orange lights visible in every shop, and the chattering crowds in their coats and scarves. Though the hits of cold wind on your face made you shiver, you were glad that you decided to go. And that you were with James. His arms around your shoulders provided you warmth just as much as his breath on your cheeks did.

As promised, both of you visited Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop. James had complained at first and tried to negotiate by saying you should "save the best for last" and head to Zonko's instead to open the trip, but after both of you saw the line the place'd formed, he agreed that maybe quills were more fascinating.

"Why are there so many types of ink?" he whispered loudly at you as he examined the shelves, "Who cares if it's lavender purple or lilac purple? They're purple!"

"Lots of people do." You answered before quietly squealing to him after finding a rare gem. "Look!"

You pushed the ink bottles to his face so he'd read the label. "Rainbow ink?"

"Rainbow ink!" You nodded excitedly.

"You do not need rainbow ink, love." He shook his head but couldn't force back the affectionate smile that had appeared on his face.

"Just like you don't need those hand-biting teacups or whatever from Zonko's, and yet here we are." You hummed giddily as you grabbed one of the brand new boxes of rainbow ink from the shelf.

"It's nose-biting teacups— please don't take the fun out of it," he corrected you, "and yes I do need it! It's fun! Trashy fun, but fun!”

"Whatever you say, love." Something caught your attention and you immediately grabbed the cuff of his shirt. "Oh! Let's look here!"

With the rainbow ink tucked safely in your coat pocket, you and James walked out of the shop and visited Zonko's. He recounted all of the items he had once bought and how he had used them up, mostly with Sirius. He ended up getting something called Inflatable Tongue (for what you didn't want to know) before both of you walked out.

You turned to him with a glint in your eyes. "Honeydukes?"

He returned the mischief and grinned. "I thought you'd never ask. Time?"

You thought it over, looking at the clock nailed onto the wall of the shop through the glass.

“Five minutes,” you pointed out. “Letter?”

"B,” he decided as he rubbed his gloved hands together. "Ready?"

"One..." you looked over at him, I'm going to obliterated you.

"Two…”

“Three.. Go!" you declared before both of you ran to the brightly colored store.

You and James had many traditions. This was one of them.

The challenge was simple. You only had to find as many candies as possible that started with the decided letter in those few minutes.

It had started with a silly argument in second year, about who knew more about sweets and, later on, the knowledge of Hogsmeade's own candy shop's stocks and products. You only had been able to visit by third year of course, and the real game had only begun there, but the fire was already established way before.

Your friend, Marlene, thought it was stupid, and so did the rest of the Marauders, but there was something to be said about the similar stubbornness you two had. Sirius had said they were eerily alike.

You and James entered the shop with thrill and jumpy nerves, but were still decent enough to try not to run like little children that would definitely result in getting kicked out. Like that time both of you visited those muggles candy stores over a summer when you were younger. Lessons were learned.

You immediately went to the right part of the store, claiming the territory. Directed by your decision, James went to the left.

You knew the store well. James didn’t know it, but you had been visiting this cheerful shop a lot recently. Mostly because Mary was so down after her breakup with her toxic ex and these treats are one of the things that could cheer her up. But on the side, you had done your research. The Bs were on this side of the store.

Bolandi’s Exquisite Crystallized Pineapple. Blood-flavored lollipop. Bat’s Blood Soup? Gross. And some chunks of brownies.

Five minutes passed, and with James only got Bertie’s and bubblegums, you came out of the shop victorious.

You jumped and threw your hands in the air. “And miss y/l/n won again. Thank you, thank you.” You bowed to a nonexistent audience.

He only smiled at you. “Don’t be so proud now. Remember, miss y/l/n, I am still the running champion here. 3-2” he reminded you with a smug smile on his face.

You shrugged. “That won’t be hard to feat, you mark my words.“ you offered him a look into your paper bag. “Want to try some?”

“What’s new?”

“Bat’s blood soup.” Your nose wrinkled at the name. “He said that it’s actually chocolate, but the name is too off putting.”

“It’d be good with strawberries,” he offered. “We can grab some from dinner later.”

You nodded your head as both of you made your way through the village. “I think Mary would like it too anyways.”

“Oh, right.” James said. He and Mary weren’t close but they were friendly, especially from being past neighbors and all. “How is she these days?”

“Better every day I'm sure. It’s for the best, Matt’s an asshole.”

“We can only hope that that itching powder will find its way real soon.” he grinned at their latest form of tricks. “Or maybe during the Yule Ball actually. That would be so much better.”

You snorted. “Usually I would say that’s cruel, but he deserves it. We thank you for your service.” You continued solemnly.

He waved his hand as if tipping off his hat. “And you are so very welcome.”

Both of you walked through the well-lit village. Talking about everything and nothing, laughing at that student making a fool of himself in one of the shops, and slipped some bites of the crystallized pineapples.He asked you about how far into the book you were now, and you asked him about his Quidditch team and whether the newest member– someone from year two, you believed–was still afraid of heights.

James had his left arm around you and your gloved hands were holding his–the one near your neck–fighting for some sense of warmth. You and James hadn’t done this in a while and you’d forgotten how much you missed it. You looked up at him as he was talking about the second-year boy and saw the flecks of snow scattered on his face, his askew glasses, and his jet black hair. It made him look a tad bit adorable, you thought. His brown eyes that had that bit of green in them were alight with something so charmingly infectious that you couldn’t help but smile.

You looked at him as he talked about the latest match, his right hand going everywhere as he was talking at the speed of 893 miles per hour. You loved seeing him talk excitedly about something. There was just something so beautiful in hearing the people you cared about talk about things that they cared about so passionately and ardently, no matter how trivial they may be. It was like you were trusted enough to see this crazy side of them. It’s nice.

A group of third-years passed by and you heard them complaining about not being able to go to the ball yet. Something about dances, dresses and suits, and dying alone.

"Oh," you fought a smile to keep it from surfacing as you remembered a particular last week incident. “How are your dance moves coming along?"

He groaned. “Not this again. You're trying not to laugh."

"I'm not!" but a chortle escaped you either way. "Okay, okay, I'm sorry. I know you're trying your best."

"I am!" he whined. "It's just really hard and Padfoot isn't exactly the best dance partner for practicing," he grumbled.

"Steps-on-you-shoes kind of bad or doesn't-catch-you-after-the-spin-that-you-end-up-falling kind of bad?" You said with a smile and with raised eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes as he revealed a sheepish smile. As if he could forget. "I said I'm sorry."

“I know. but it was right there. I couldn't not do it.”

A week ago, in the empty common room at night, James had asked you to teach him the basic dance steps most people used for the ball. Despite his mother's graces for it, you found that her son was very much an amateur.

He kept stepping on your foot and collided with you as he took the wrong directions. You were laughing and kept saying that it was fine, but he still apologized every other second of it.

The ending to the attempts was a disaster. A playful one for you, but he seemed very embarrassed of it. You had suggested the spin—and honestly it was your fault to have recommended it in the first place when it had only been an hour and a half—and as he tried to pull you back, he might have tugged your hand a bit too hard and you ended up crashing into one another. Your figure on top of his, his hands on your waist.

His cheeks had turned slightly red, and yours had grown hot as the fall stopped and you found your face so close to his. Your eyes inevitably found his brown ones and you felt his rapid breaths on your skin. His eyes have a little bit of green in them, like stars, your mind wandered before catching yourself. You let out a slight awkward cough and tried to laugh it off as you made yourself stand up.

He gave you a string of apologies afterward, and although you had assured him that it was all in good fun, he never asked you to teach him again. You kind of wished he would, for reasons you couldn't quite explain, but you didn't want to push him when he had turned to Sirius to "let the failures just befall on him", as he'd said it.

"But, either way, have you improved under the capable hands of Sirius Black, Mr. Potter?" you asked him now, an eyebrow raised.

"Well, he's definitely not as capable as you." He gave you an admiring smile, and you almost looked away from it. Taking compliments was never one of your talents. Especially if you felt undeserved of it.

"Well, it might come to you as a surprise, but what we learned was the easy part. I'm an intermediate myself." Deflected and dodged.

He laughed. "Either way, you're still graceful at it. You know, the incident did happen again. With Sirius."

You snorted. "What?"

"Yeah. Luckily, it's still in the privacy of our dorm. so it's good."

"I'd give money to see that."

"Would never let that happen in a million years."

“With the way things are going, I might. The dance is a public affair.”

“I’d have to get better by next week then.” He said it solemnly like it was a promise, but he probably was kidding. That small child-like smile on his face said it all.

You had walked to the empty side of the village. You didn't think there was one, but the snow covered streets around you were scarce of people. Only a few passersby before they too disappeared into the warm shelter of a wooden shop. Just the way you preferred it.

A sudden thought crossed your mind and before you could even give it a second thought, your mouth decided to give it a voice. "You want to try again?"

He looked around, his snow flecked eyebrows raising, and his smile tinted with a hint of amusement. "Here?"

Well now you wished you hadn't. But, playing along was always better than an embarrassed "never mind, that was stupid" right?

"Well, yes!" you told him as if you definitely didn't have any second thoughts at all. "Almost no one’s here. Besides," You continued with a light feather edge on your words. "I heard it's freeing to dance in the cold December wind."

He shot you with one of his cheeky smiles. "Is that so?" before putting on his thinking face, a guess on the tip of his tongue. "Romance?" He ventured.

"Partly. It's a coming-of-age drama and such." You corrected him. "It's also on our winter list for this year you'll see."

"Can't wait." and he meant it. But only because, "I hope you'll also like that match tape I got of a muggles' football match. They're entertaining too to say the least."

After years of being best friends together, he had learned that you liked to talk in quotes from the books you'd read and the movies you'd watched. And after years of spending winter and summer breaks together watching and listening to the muggles' form of entertainment media, it was like you shared the same frequency. He could guess which type of movies or shows or songs you had probably heard the saying from, and you could guess which sport match did he reference that joke from.

It was a whole different game. Total number of players : two.

He stopped in his tracks, letting his arm fall from his shoulder, making your neck shudder a bit at the loss of warmth.

"So," he gave you a gentleman's bow—and a playful smile along with it—and offered his gloved hand. "May I have this dance?"

You almost let out a surprised laugh at the gesture. You took a ladylike bow, pinching the fabric of your invisible royal dress. "That depends," you said in an exaggerated accent, "are you able to do so without giving me a head injury?"

He returned the overplayed accent. "I shall make no promises. But, if i were to slip and let you fall, best believe I'd try my best to catch you."

On the usual days, you'd bring up Gwen Stacy falling into her demise in one of the remakes of the Spider-Man movies. How Peter wasn't able to catch her and she ended up dead. James would've gotten the reference—you had cried to him for hours after that first watch last summer—but you couldn't bring yourself to do it.

And yet instead, you were here, trying not to let the invisible red take too much space on your already freezing cheeks. You smiled, and it was a smile you couldn't contain. Not like others. It was one that just kept going wider and wider the more you looked at the beam plastered on his face until it wasn't physically possible anymore.

James, your head echoed his name as you mentally shook your head. A soft laugh escaped your lips. What have you done?

“We’re going to look stupid.” You admitted.

“Hey, it was your idea." He reminded you, his hand still stood in the air.

"It was a moment of foolery." But you took it.

The wind had started to pick up its course again and caused the snow to fall rapidly. Under the glow of the streetlights, you two danced and laughed. It started off as an attempt to the formal dance two would usually use at a ball, but after one or two or seven missteps, you agreed that maybe you should start over.

There was no music to accompany you but there was a faint piano playing from one of the shops. It whispered gently with the wind that swept you and James' rowdy steps.

His laughters were echoing in your ears, into your mind. His breath was on your cheeks, and his gloved hand on your woolen one was a warming touch. His glasses were a bit askew, and a part of his hair that came out of his beanie was flecked with snow.

There was no rhyme nor reason to your steps or the placement change of your hands. It was so stupid and silly. One minute it was an amateur attempt at classic dances, and another you were fooling around as if you were at a house party.

It was nice. Like you two were five again and you knew nothing and everything. Childhood innocence, where have you gone?

There were a lot of things you were late to realize about your friendship with James. You guessed you didn’t really think much about a friendship that had started since you could remember. It had always just been there, all your life. So long that you couldn’t imagine a life without it. A steadfast thing, the most you ever had one with someone that used to be a stranger to you.

You couldn’t even imagine that now. James Potter, a stranger. It felt so wrong. You had known too much about him, he had known too much about you. He was memorized in your mind.

From his hazel brown eyes that felt like the warm hearth of your home every time you looked at them, to the quirk of his lips and the gentleness of his smile.

To his voice that had once become a soothing presence after you had had paranoid nightmares about one of the people you knew dying. To the sound of his laughter that accompany the hot days in June and the freezing weather of winter, like how it did right now.

How he would run his hands through his hair when he was frustrated or didn’t know what to do. Or how his handwriting looked and how the Gs and Ys are always so sloppy and how the Ss barely look like one.

And so many things. So many other things you couldn’t imagine living without. Maybe this was just you being too present in a moment that you couldn’t think of it being ripped away and making you not be there anymore, but you weren’t sure.

You looked at him, and it was like the rest of the world fell away. His eyes had stars in them and his cheeks were red from the cold.

Your thoughts raced in a hundred miles per hour as your breaths and the pulse in your veins tried to catch up. All of them were beating to get out of your skin and onto the snow. They all had the same jitters, the same sound, and the same beat. And they all were talking in one unison, a whisper of the name of the person in front of you.

James Potter. James Potter. James. Oh. Oh.

It was a moment too late before you realized you had not been watching your steps and tripped yourself over a good mound of snow.

“Woah, woah” You started as you fell forward onto the snow, with your hands still on James’.

You heard the soft thump of the snow hitting James’ head, as your body fell on top of his. The rough old material of his father's coat met with your similar one. Your eyes were inches from his and so were your lips. You didn’t know what to think, your mind just went blank at the sudden proximity.

You should— wait, what should you do? You should— right, oh my god, apologize!

Fighting your inner thoughts and denying its claims, you immediately got up. Maybe too quickly for nonchalance but your racing brain didn’t have time to think it through. Not when it was jammed with mixed and confused signals from your heart.

“James! I’m so so sorry!” you offered him your hand and pulled him to stand, brushing off the snow from his coat. “Sorry, I wasn’t in my mind for that one second. Sorry.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, or even look at him—which almost never was a problem before, at least not because of this kind of… thing— so you resumed correcting his lopsided beanie.

He just laughed though. All casual as if you didn’t just find a big revelation. “It’s okay, it’s fine.” He tried to assure you. But you still wouldn’t stop, so he took hold of your hands to stop them from fixing his woolen headwear.

Great, now you were forced to look at him. You just hoped the cold weather was still a believable reason to cover up for whatever your face may look like now. Flushed, probably. But hopefully not too embarrassed.

You looked at his face, a trace of mirth still on his lips that were so close to you a minute ago. His face was kinda red too, but it was probably because of the season.

“It’s okay,” he assured you again. “You know,” an end to his smile turned a bit more upward and you knew that a tease was coming. “You reminded me of an old me,” he continued breezily, “i made this same mistake too back then. When i was more foolish.”

You couldn’t help but let out a snort. James, james. Alright, just let things—and especially you—calm down a little, you told yourself. Let everything go back to normal.

“You mean a week ago, old man?” You lightly punched his arm, before dusting off the snow from your own coat.

“Time is relative. Miles Morales said it himself.” He said as he helped you brush the snow out of your hair and coat. “Or actually it was Ernest whatnot but whatever.”

You let out a breath of laughter as you shook your head. His glasses were crooked so your hands automatically went up to fix it. Like you had done so many times. “There. It was crooked.” You heard yourself explaining.

“Thanks,” he said with that stupid silly smile of his. You hated that smile now. How can one have such a charismatic smile? It wasn’t fair.

“No problem, wise man.” You responded with your new-found nickname for him, playfully rolling your eyes.

“Seaweed brain," He called back, and that made you smile– you didn’t even realize it.

You gave him a nod of approval. "The Percy Jackson reference. Touché."

"I've learned sooo much from you." He said solemnly.

"I know." You smiled up at him. And he looked right into your eyes, that blinding smile of his radiating onto them before suddenly averting his gaze onto the ground, where evidence of your very own accident made a mark on the snow.

James rubbed his hands together, searching for warmth. "Hey, you want to go to the Three Broomsticks? It’ll probably be emptier now.” He offered, like he always did because he was your friend. Your best friend since you could remember.

You didn’t know why you were acting weird. It was only an hour ago when everything was normal. You didn’t know how everything could just change in a matter of seconds. He was your friend, it would be okay. However this would unfold, everything would be fine. Both of you had always overcome things before. It was with James, you two would get through it. You were grateful to have him.

“Oh yeah sure.” You agreed. Wait, was that too quick of a response? Oh fuck it. He was your best friend, he had known you all his life too—which was exactly why if there was something off with you, he’d definitely be the first person to notice it, but you didn’t want to think about it too much. You shook your heads to clear all maddening thoughts. “Have you heard from Frank? Haven’t gone there in a while.”

“Oh, yeah he’s great.” He continued in a whisper, “I heard he has just received a new package of fire whiskey and Sirius and I are hoping to get a snatch of it or two. You know, for the house.”

“Right, for the house,” You rolled your eyes.

He lent out a hand to you, "Shall we?"

You took it and he gave it a soft squeeze, its grip sending vibrations through your bones.

"We shall."

───────────────∘

James was right, it wasn't as crowded as it would be if you had come earlier. Most people here had their drink and company either at noon or late afternoon and night. 3 pm wasn't exactly a busy hour. Though there were still too many people and noises for your comfort, you and James could at least find a table for two in the corner, quieter spot.

He came to the table holding two butterbeers in his hand. Both served hot to minimize the cold. He slid yours down the table and took a seat in front of you. His glasses are turned slightly uneven again.

"So, y/n" he started as you picked up your drink and sighed at the heat it gave you. Your hands were absolutely freezing.

"Hm?" You responded, more focused on the comforting smell that radiated from your cup.

"I've been thinking," He continued, and now you looked up. You were so distracted before that you didn't notice how his hands were moving as if he were drumming his thighs under the table— a habit he often did when he was nervous.

You furrowed your eyebrows for a second but decided to ignore it. "Uh-oh. Nothing good ever comes up from that." You took a careful sip of the butterbeer, its warmth traveled all through your withered body. "New horrible trick ideas?"

He rolled his eyes, a breathy laugh came out of his lips. "Why is it that you always always think the worst of me, miss y/l/n?"

Just this morning, at the Great Hall, every part of you was functioning alright. Nothing going haywire. But now, there was a skipped beat in your heart and a flip in your stomach. You tried to deflect it but the butterflies couldn't be bothered.

"I don't always always think the worst of you James. I just know you." You did, you really did. You wondered if he knew it though.

"Well, I bet you wouldn't guess what's going to come out of my mouth this time." He claimed in a challenging tone.

You raised an eyebrow. "Is that so?"

"Five guesses." He grinned as he pulled up five fingers to illustrate his point. "No retracting."

"Alright then," You accepted the challenge. You silently thought to yourself before voicing it all aloud. "Wasn't a trick, so maybe you are... planning to do something to the Marauders? Like, I don't know, maybe get those two idiots together to the ball?"

He pulled down a finger. "You know, maybe I should. But that wasn't it. You were kinda close though."

Close where? “Sirius and Remus?”

He made a loud incorrect buzzer sound and pulled down another finger.

“Hey, that wasn’t-”

“No retracting,” he reminded you, as he took a sip of his own beverage.

“Not fair,” you grumbled. You thought about it again before guessing, “Oh! Yule Ball shenanigans? Oh wait no-“

Another buzzer sound, and two fingers left. “My, you really don’t know me, do you y/n?” He feigned a dramatic hurt on his face and a slight pout. “You’re close though.”

About the dance? What’s about the dance? “What, you’re going to skip the ball?” You said it as a joke but he wasn’t laughing. In fact, there was just a trace of truth in that smile of his when you said it. “What, I’m right?”

“No. But that depends actually.”

“You’re talking in riddles.”

“Yeah, it’s fun, isn’t it?” His smile had a slight smirk now, like it was still held back or something. “That counted as incorrect by the way.” He made another buzzer sound and one finger left.

You sighed in frustration. The Yule Ball, but it wasn’t about any tricks. So what? Oh. The realization hit you as you felt your heart drop. It was so silly, but bad timing, James. Bad timing.

“You’re finally going to try and ask someone else to go to the ball with you?” You voiced out your thoughts, hoping there wasn’t a hint that could suggest something else; reluctance and hesitation. What, did he meet her in the hallway before you two went out or something?

He pulled his lips together and gave you a small shrug. “Close,” he concluded. “But again that depends.”

You sighed. “Alright, fine. I give up. I surrender. Just tell me.” You almost pleaded with him.

“You’re my best friend, right?”

Right. Best friend. Of course. You nodded. “Mhm.”

“So…” he stopped, like he was nervous to get the words out. That was weird.

A worse idea came to mind.Oh please don’t tell me he’s going to ask me to become his fake date for the ball to make Lily jealous, you silently desperately prayed. It would’ve been easy if it had been any other week before, but not this week. Not today. And specifically not at this hour, when you were still processing everything.

“Will you…” he continued hesitantly, his fingers playing with a loose thread on one of his gloves, a smile fighting to still be displayed on his lips. “Give me the honor and go with me to the dance?"

You said nothing, only slightly raised your eyebrows in surprise. That depends. You didn’t want to let the fireworks surround you. Skepticism came first, as it always had to.

But your silence seemed to jittered him, and he immediately jumped to explanation. “You know, because we’re best friends, and none of us have a date, and I don't know, I thought it would be fun? To go together. As friends. Casual thing. You know.” He shrugged.

You let out a smile at that, and it seemed to relax him a bit. Why was he so nervous? Of course you’d go with him. You were his best friend, and he was yours, he knew that. “Well, you are not a stranger I don't know or even like.” You joked.

He gave you a grin at that. “No, I’m not. So, you’d go? With me, I mean?”

He was cuter when he was nervous, it wasn’t fair. Why was he nervous again? You’d understand if it was you who were nervous, but why was he?

You couldn’t focus on anything besides the annoyingly loud flutter in your heart—and how hard you are trying to beat and stomp it to death right now. This doesn’t mean anything, it was just a friendly gesture. James was in love with Lily, there was no question, of course.

But you still felt the butterflies on your stomach go wild. You were fighting to contain that smile on your face, scared he’d figure out it wasn’t just any casual thing for you. You were going to the ball with your best friend and you realized there was no else you’d rather go with.

“Of course, James. You’re my best friend!” You smiled up at him, the warmth coming through your gloves from the hot drink was now small compared to the thrill that coursed through your body. “Though do you have a written contract for possible head damage compensation because I might need it.”

He shook his head, a slight relieved laughter came out of his lips. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love me because of it.” You were only teasing, but you thought he looked at you with such sincerity in his eyes that it jarred your senses a bit.

“Yeah, I do.”

───────────────────────

#james potter x reader #james potter x you #james potter fluff #james potter #marauders x reader #the marauders #james potter imagine #james potter fic #my writing!#hp #requested #harry potter imagine

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wannaeatramyeon · 1 year

Note

The Yakuza daughter! S/o x Gun basically made me fangirl as I imagine them being a power couple lol. I now wonder if you got part 2 in that like Goo just discover Gun ring on his hand and a photo of his fiancée/wife in his photo (I just imagine that he took a photo of s/o in a lingerie lol)

Ughhhh Sam, this idea is too fun. Here's a much much quicker follow up with a lot less Yakuza-ness (sorry 🙇🏻‍♀️).

Gun Park x Reader: After I do (feat Goo)

Goo finds out. Follow up to 'I do' fic here

"How was Japan?"

Goo watches Gun washing the blood from his hands. Something about Gun has changed. He seems... different. Goo couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe it was Japan. Maybe it's the guy just being a freakshow as per usual.

Gun side-eyes him. The response is clipped, short, singular.

"Fine."

"Not like you to take an extended leave."

"..."

The lack of answer doesn't deter Goo, all too used to his partner's silence. "Business or personal?"

"..."

"Anything I should worry about?"

"..."

"Are you planning anything?"

"..."

"Did you pick up my Sanrio-"

Gun thrusts his hands in the dryer, the blasts of air drowning out Goo's incessant questioning. Unfortunately, this doesn't last long enough. Nothing ever does once the blonde's curiousity is piqued.

As soon as the whirring stops, Goo opens his mouth once again and Gun finally responds. "No, no and no. Shut up."

Hmph. Looks like Goo won't get anything else from this asshole. With a glint in his eye, he asks his final question, "You owe me for covering your duties. Was Crystal always this annoying?"

Gun reluctantly smiles. "Yes."

"What does our big bad boss want?"

Gun scans his phone. The message from just moments ago wasn't anything of significance to their mission. Although. The selfie of you in a seductive pose and risque underwear might be a distraction.

He appreciates it for a beat longer then locks the device. "It's not our boss."

That's the end of that conversation. Or so he thought.

"Huh?" Goo's eyes dart over to him with increasing frequency and the car starts to swerve.

Gun will not die by his hand because this fucking maniac can't keep his eyes on the road. Begrudgingly, he elaborates, "It's personal."

The blonde's eyes bulge out at this admission, "During work hours? Who wants to text a mean bastard like you?"

For fuck's sake. Can't this fucking idiot ever mind his own business.

Goo continues, "Who the hell would even want to be friends with you? I hope you're not plotting anything against me..." A malicious snicker, "Or are you dating? You should introduce me to them, they must be a firecracker!"

Gun tunes out his partner, a skill he has long mastered.

But when his phone buzzes for the third time in as many minutes, with you no doubt sending yet another racy image, Gun has to physically restrain himself from looking (and internally curses you for your poor timing).

Goo tries to swipe at the phone. "Hey, let me text back!"

Gun moves it effortlessly out of arm's reach. "If you're not going to keep those eyes on the road, then I can just pluck them from your head."

"You're no fun." Goo pouts, narrowly missing driving into a ravine.

"Oppa~ do you want a bite of this sushi?"

"No."

"Are you sure? It's really delicious!"

"..."

"Just a little taste!"

"Come near me again, I'll jam the sushi and the chopsticks down your throat."

"Ahhh~! Goo, your friend is so mean!"

What the fuck? Gun seems to be in an even more sour mood than usual. The last time the both of them were at this Gangnam bar, Gun had no issues with the women. Someone to warm his bed for the night, he had figured.

This evening though? He didn't even bat an eyelid in their direction.

"Gun! You can at least be nice to these sweethearts!" Goo snaps.

"No." Gun replies simply, getting up to leave.

What a fucking weirdo, Goo thinks. Oh well, more sushi for me.

"Since when did you wear jewellery?"

Goo snatches Gun's left hand, pulling it up to his face and holding it so close he is cross-eyed behind his glasses.

He absolutely has not seen this before, his brows furrow at this very odd addition. A plain, silver-coloured ring wrapped around the fourth finger.

Yanking his hand back, Gun responds. "Since I want to."

"A plain ring? On that finger?" Goo trails after him as he strides off, "You know what that means right? Wait..."

Goo completely stops in his tracks, "A couple band? Engagement? Are you...?"

Gun completely ignores him, increasing the distance between them.

No fucking way, right? The simple band on his hand is definitely something, but-

There's just-

No. fucking. way.

Who the fuck would be able to put up with Gun Park?

"Who's that?" Goo peers at the picture of the smokeshow on Gun's phone, catching a glimpse just before he tucks it into his pocket.

Having that image is certainly... a choice. Who is she though? A new k-pop idol? Gun doesn't seem like the type that would have an image of an idol or a celebrity as their background.

"My wife."

"WHAT THE FUCK?"

"Focus." Gun commands, as a gang of men come at them with knives and baseball bats.

"WHAT THE FUCK?" Goo repeats, ducking to avoid a slash.

"I said, focus." Gun easily tanks a couple hits before returning some of his own.

"WHAT THE-" Goo's words are cut short as some thug takes advantage of his diverted attention and knocks his glasses off.

"FUCK- Fine." Goo elbows the guy in the solar plexus then easily plucks the baseball bat from his now slack grip. "Let me just borrow this~"

"You must be Goo Kim!"

Turning on the hostess charm, you note how Goo has to almost literally pick his jaw off the floor with your entrance.

Gun leans against the doorframe, observing with quiet smugness at the reaction. You had dropped in at the HNH offices to join Gun for lunch. Usually he would pick a better time and place but the level of questioning from Goo had already surpassed absurd levels ever since he found out Gun was married.

The last few weeks had been hell.

"When did you get married?! You didn't invite me to the wedding? I wasn't your best man? Tell me, who was it! I'll beat them up! When can I meet your bride? Or are you scared I'll charm her away?"

And Gun had promised you a partnership of equals. With your short time in South Korea, you had more than enough proved your usefulness and loyalty. It's about time he cuts you in on the Crew business.

He surmises this is a way to kill two birds with one stone.

You're Gun's wife? This absolute knockout? With him? That fucking boring asshole?

Goo would have thought this is Gun's twisted idea of a prank if he hadn't found out that the guy barely had a sense of humour a long time ago. That time had almost ended in stitches for Goo.

"Mrs. Park!" He gives you a theatrical bow, "I've been so looking forward to working with you!"

"Just call me Y/N," you giggle.

Goo takes your hand, pressing a loud smooch to the top of it. Gun's entire body tenses at the contact. This does not go unnoticed by you.

You retract your hand back, subtly wiping the kiss away, "I can't wait to get stuck into all the details."

"Of course, Y/N!"

"There won't be any trouble from you, right, Goo?"

"Princess, don't you trust me?"

You look Goo dead in the eye, seeing through the fake hurt on his face and dropping your own act.

"No. And," you grab onto his crotch, digging in your nails as Goo yelps, "If there is even a whiff of anything amiss then I'm coming after your balls." Your grip tightens as he tries without success to push you off, "Got it?"

"ACK!! Fuck! Got it, got it!"

You release him, relishing at his squeal.

"If you've broken anything," Goo scowls, struggling to stand and cradling himself tenderly. "Ugh, you two are fucking made for each other. Psychos."

Gun arrives at your side with a smirk, he guides you by the small of your back, leading you out.

"Not bad," he murmurs into your ear, "You were wasted in Japan."

#sorry goo my poor baby #lookism #lookism x reader #lookism headcanons #lookism hc #lookism fic #lookism webtoon #lookism manhwa #gun park #gun park x reader #park jonggun x reader #park jonggun #goo kim #kim joongoo #wannaeatramyeon

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audaciousacolyte · 6 months

Note

Hi lovely! First of all before I request.. How are you? How have you been? And also, I seriously enjoy your writings, keep up with the good work and ignore all the haters! They're not worth your precious time.

As for the request, could I pleaseeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee request Oswald the lucky Rabbit, Bendy and Cuphead x female reader? Like, how would they be as boyfriend or husband head canons. I hope it's not too much darling! Take all the time you need!

Have fun and have a lovely day/night/morning/evening!! <33

♡ My own Mr. Loverman ♡

Oswald the lucky Rabbit, Bendy and Cuphead x reader romantic partner headcanons (separate)

AN: 《|| Hello!! Thank you so much for requesting!!! I'm doing quite well, but I have been busy trying to figure out what exactly I should write. I'm relieved that you enjoy my silly rambling, and I will gladly bring you more in the future!!! However, I'm terribly sorry that I don't post too often. Please be patient with me ;w; ||》

(Boyfriend/husband headcanons)

Cuphead

♡| Cuphead is not exactly what Someone would call boyfriend material…at first.

♡| He's brash, arrogant, and quite literally has zero self control.

♡| However, the thing that makes him boyfriend material is that while it might not seem like it, he's actually a really sensitive guy.

♡| Cups likes to hide behind bravado and anger, but underneath, he cares deeply about the people around him. He just…doesn't really know how to express that.

♡| By the time you are dating, he will definitely try to communicate this… kinda.

♡| (You had thought he was mad at you for the longest time, but no. He's just awful at communicating his emotions.)

☆| Nobody knows how he managed to land you as a partner, but Bendy theorizes that there may have been witchcraft involved. (Felix disagrees, but only because he thinks that you know something that everyone else doesn't…which like, he's not wrong??)

♡| When he does announce that y'all are dating, it's at the most random moment possible. No context, no elaboration. Just.

♡| Y'all are dating now. 🤷‍♀️

☆| (Boris nearly had a heart attack when he first said it, because he genuinely did not expect it. However this was not as bad as when Mugs demanded that he was to be Cups' best man at the wedding.)

♡| Very spontaneous. I would expect a lot of last minute dates to places neither of you have been before.

☆| (Bro once took you to a monster truck rally for your anniversary. He said it "seemed cooler than I thought it would be", when you asked him about it)

♡| He is not only one of the most loyal men on the planet, but he's also incredibly attentive! Any attention you want is given to you, and Cups is more than happy to cuddle up with you any time of the day.

♡| Casually (cough cough he's so nervous please help cough cough) proposes during your 4 year anniversary with a genuine diamond ring. Literally cries when you say yes.

Bendy

♡| The best boyfriend ever. Send Post.

♡| I'm serious though, Bendy is the sweetest boyfriend to have.

♡| Having a bad day? He'll make sure that you get whatever you need to unwind and feel better.

♡| Want to spend some time together? Of course! He'll go set up a movie for the two of you to watch

♡| Can't open something? Don't worry, honey, he can open it for you (♡♡♡swoon♡♡♡)

♡| Whatever comes, through sickness and in health, Bendy will stay by your side for as long as you allow him to.

♡| Can, will and has done everything in his power to give you everything he thinks that you deserve in a partner. Anything you want, you are going to get it.

♡| (The day he proposes is also the day that Boris got tired of listening to his brother gush about you at 4 in the morning and forced him to go get married or he'd tell Felix their tragic backstory (read, he'd tell Felix to sign the damn adoption papers already))

Oswald the lucky Rabbit

♡| When he does propose, it's at a mega-fancy restaurant, and with an intricately carved golden ring. He won't cry when you say yes, but he gets REAL close.

♡| Whether you realize it or not, the two of you have practically been married for like, ever.

♡| Ever since y'all met, you act just like a married couple with how domestic y'all are with each other.

♡| Love at first sight? Nah, MARRIAGE at first sight

♡| Oswald does not notice this at all. He considers you his best friend, and he (loves you) cares about you a lot, but c'mon guys! there is NO WAY he can be in love with you! He's already in love with Ortensia, you know,HIS WIFE?

♡| (Polyamory exists for a REASON Ozzie)

♡| Ortensia would actually be the one to sit him down and talk to him about it, because you and I KNOW that our poor, sweet, dumb bunny boy won't do anything about this.

◇| (Again, like I've said in Oz's general headcanons, she'll be happy if Oswald's happy and if Oswald wants to start a polycule because he's head over heels for his bestie, then she’s okay with it.)

♡| When he does ask you out, and y'all eventually start going steady, he is such a sweetheart. I am a firm believer in hopeless romantic Oswald, and I will die upon this hill.

♡| Any bit of affection is met with really loud purring, and foot thumping.

☆| (Did you know that rabbits can purr? Yeah, neither did I.)

♡♡♡| He and Ortensia team up and propose to you at the same time with matching silver rings, each with their name carved on the inside. They both tackle-hug you to the ground when you say yes

#bendy and boris in the inky mystery #inky inquiries #cuphead x reader #bendy x reader #oswald the lucky rabbit x reader #lucky bunny #coffeehouse cups #requested #lovely words

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jamisonwritestf2trash · 3 months

Note

hiiii hiiii!!! was curious :3 how's it gooinnnng?? uh, feeling booooooorooooooored got any fun headcanons you have floating around the space station?? :3

It's going well enough, Anon! I finally got around to this! Sorry it took me so long, I've been having a hard time doing things. But never mind that! Here's a mixed bag of headcanons!

————————————————————

Medic can make a killer hot chocolate. The only issue being, he will NOT elaborate on why he's so happy and eager to make you one.. He'll hand you the most beautifully decorated hot chocolate, but he stares at you with the most terrifying smile, staring through your soul. You should drink it, though, what's the worst that can happen.

————————————————————

Speaking of Medic. This man would be a menace at Diner Dash. I can not explain. He'd just be so good at it. Put him in endless mode, and he'd play it for hours, you could not get him to put it down.

————————————————————

Speaking of video games, Scout is insane at Mario Kart. He will kill you on Rainbow Road, you will not win against him, he's a maniac. He mains Peach. Also, funny enough, even though he has so many siblings, none of them would play Mario Kart with him. He may have teared up because Pyro asked to play with him.

————————————————————

You know what, I'll just drop everyone's Mario Kart mains and their second option with no explanations!

Demo would main Yoshi, Dry Bones being his second

Engie would pick Daisy, dying on this kill. Um, as a second pick I get Lakitu vibes.

Heavy would choose Bowser, Luigi being his second

Medic switches between the princesses, but mainly Rosalina, King Boo being his second.

Scout is a Peach main ONLY, if he is alone! (One time, he messed up and picked Peach before anyone else could and was very embarrassed.) If he's playing with others, he picks Mario, Larry being his second.

Sniper doesn't care. He'd probably let someone else pick for him. He normally gets a princess character, but he doesn't mind.

Spy is always picking rose gold Peach, regardless of Scout's mocking. He doesn't need a second pick because he'll get pissy about it.

Soldier doesn't have a set main, but I feel like he'd pick any of Bowser's kids.

Pyro is a Shy Guy main, and I am so normal about it, Bowser Jr. Is its second pick.

None of them really fight over mains though, the all normally get the character they want.

————————————————————

Totally away from all of that. I think Spy listens to classical music, and Scout also likes classical music so one time, Scout heard it from Spy's room and just came in, starting to make fun of him, but ended up just... sitting with Spy. I think a lot of their bonding is nonverbal.

————————————————————

Hey, I'm doing another speaking of bit, Spy has a habit of showing up at the exact moment someone needs something, with the item. Medic needs a coffee? Oh well, Spy just happened to be there with one. Scout's looking for something? Spy just found it! How strange. He always acts like its such an inconvenience, this is the only way he can show love.

————————————————————

Scout, Sniper, Medic, and Soldier all have sensory and texture issues.

Scout will gag at the thought of eating puddings and jellos and can't stand flashing lights. Sniper hates bright lights and hates the texture of anything slimy. Medic is overwhelmed by noises in crowds and can't stand sticky foods. Soldier has issues with fabrics and tags and can't stand soft/smooth.

————————————————————

Back to Spy again, I think he really likes the smell of lilacs and vanilla, I don't know why.

————————————————————

Scout once ran out of Bonk, Medic offered him a tea. Medic and Scout drink tea together when one of them has a bad day.

————————————————————

Engie collects rocks. He's just always been a fan. Sometimes, he'll sit outside the base, looking at the ground just searching for pretty rocks. He's given some to Pyro before, and now Pyro goes and sits with him sometimes.

————————————————————

Sniper's happiest moments in life are genuinely sitting in a dark room, not talking, just sitting with someone he cares about. He finds the presence of someone more comforting than words.

————————————————————

You know those gimmick blogs that can identify something from one picture? Heavy can tell you exactly what book any quote is from.

————————————————————

Pyro, Demo, and Soldier collect fireflies together sometimes.

Anyways! That's all I have for now. Sorry, they aren't anything major or great. But writing them made me smile, so thank you for that, anon!

I'm hoping I'm finally back to writing because this reminded me how fun it is.

#tf2 #team fortress 2 #tf2 demoman #tf2 engineer #tf2 heavy #tf2 medic #tf2 scout #tf2 sniper #tf2 spy #tf2 soldier #tf2 pyro #tf2 headcanons

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theerurishipper · 8 months

Text

Coming back to one of the points I've made earlier but never really elaborated upon, what does it do for Adrien's arc to have everyone lie to him?

Adrien's arc is about finding his self-worth and his independence and learning how to be loved unconditionally. Gabriel is controlling and abusive and only gives Adrien a second's worth of attention if Adrien caters to his every whim. And so, you'd think that part of Adrien's arc is learning that people will love him for who he is without him having to bend to their desires, and that he has the right to make decisions for himself. But this new development as of the Season 5 finale is that, no, Adrien's loved ones actually don't want him to make his own choices. In fact, they would rather support and emulate his abusive father's controlling actions and deny Adrien his agency and his ability to make informed choices about his own life. They would rather dictate how he should feel and would rather decide what's best for him rather than giving him the choice to do so himself. This comes with its large set of very much unfortunate implications.

Under the cut because this is long.

This is a problem that started with Season 4, with the introduction of Ladybug's Gabriel-esque behavior towards Chat Noir, and the subsequent lack of proper resolution. In fact, the resolution was that Chat Noir was asking too much of Ladybug, and that what needed to be done to resolve this conflict of Ladybug keeping important secrets from Chat Noir and replacing him with other holders... was for Chat Noir to suck it up and continue supporting Ladybug. It was for him to put aside his legitimate concerns with her actions and to accept that he would never be treated the way he wants to be. It was for him to push down his own feelings and come to stay by her side even though she had not treated him well, and even though she never actually fixed her mistakes.

What is the importance of his relationship with Ladybug? For the first 3 seasons, at least, it was the escape from his abusive home life that Adrien needed, to someone who would accept him unconditionally. But Season 4 introduced the infamous Ladynoir conflict that permanently altered their dynamic. I've talked about how the Season 4 finale only served to reinforce the inequality between them. It begins with Ladybug keeping secrets from Chat Noir and pulling away from him, and it ends by him simply forgiving her because he is used to downplaying his own needs. And I don't feel the desire to rehash all that, but it does beg the question: What is the takeaway from the Ladynoir conflict? Is it that he should bend himself over to be what she needs, but she doesn't need to return the same support? Is it that Ladybug is the Flawless Leader™, and he should learn his place? Because that's the impression it gives.

Now, I've talked before about how Gabriel's abuse has caused Adrien to believe love is conditional and has to be earned by him pleasing the other person and doing whatever they expect of him. And the importance of his Chat Noir persona being more expressive and "imperfect" is that this is the only time he can let loose and have fun, free of the expectations of others. And Season 4 has him return to his trauma responses around Ladybug, the person who is narratively supposed to be the one person who accepts his imperfections and doesn't place any expectations on him. Now, Chat Noir being traumatized is not Ladybug's fault, of course, and if he is fawning over her, certainly it is not her fault. But the narrative frames this as beneficial to her. Ladybug likes when Chat Noir fawns over her as Catwalker. Over and over in the story, she takes advantage of his forgiveness and trust, and never examines herself or her actions, and never tries to fix her mistakes because he always ends up forgiving her due to his belief that his feelings don't matter. Ladybug meets Catwalker, which is literally just Adrien fawning and trying to be whatever he needs to be to please her, and she instantly falls for him.

And in a narrative sense... this is detrimental to the concept of the Love Square, because it reinforces the narrative that Ladybug will never fall in love with Chat Noir, because what she wants is the perfect image, the flawless partner. The rose-tinted glasses she sees Adrien with are not being removed, rather she is putting on a fresh, darker shade. And it doesn't say good things about their development that she falls for the perfect act almost immediately upon meeting him, the moment he swears that he'll take care of her. And I won't go into too much detail since I've covered it in my other posts, but the point is that Marinette only ever seems to fall for boys who don't inconvenience her with their emotions, and instead take care of her needs without expecting anything, and this makes it seem like she is benefitting from Adrien's trauma. And Marinette is never allowed to return the support she gets from Chat Noir in any meaningful way, and it is framed by the narrative as right and wonderful that Adrien is so nice as to put his feelings aside and support her over and over again despite her repeatedly making the same mistakes and hurting him. His trauma response is framed as a good thing because it benefits Marinette.

Season 4 was about Marinette deliberately keeping secrets from her partner, dictating his actions and outright lying to him and taking advantage of his trust at times. Decidedly Gabe-like behavior, even though it was way more toned down and way less malicious (I won't go too far with that comparison, but still). And Season 5 ends up adding more salt to the wound, by having Marinette straight out lie to Adrien about his father, dictating his perceptions and controlling his thoughts and feelings, just like Gabriel would have liked. And in fact, Gabriel asked her to do this to the son she knows he abused, and she sides with him. And it's not just Marinette. The list of people who have denied Adrien honesty just goes on and on. Gabriel, Emilie, Nathalie, Amelie, Felix, Kagami, Master Fu, Luka, Plagg, Tikki, Marinette, Alya, Su-Han... they are all, as those who knew truths about different situations, people who chose to lie to and hide information from Adrien that he was entitled to. And with the exception of Luka and Master Fu, all of these people are complicit in siding with Gabriel and denying Adrien the most important secret of all, the truth of his very existence.

Which raises the question: if Adrien's arc was supposedly about breaking free from a controlling life and finding those who didn't do that to him, then why is it that everyone around him appears to agree with Gabriel? Why does the person who, in the narrative, is supposed to be the opposite of Gabriel and the saving grace for Adrien, parallel him so much in both actions and backstory? Does that not cheapen Adrien's arc? What does that imply for him? That he can never escape the fate of being controlled? That being controlling over a person's agency is fine and dandy if done for the right reasons?

Let's take a look back over Adrien's arc. Adrien's first scene is him rebelling against Gabriel, and we see him come closer and closer to the realization that Gabriel is abusive and cruel. We see Adrien make friends like Nino and Ladybug. We see the trajectory that his arc is going in, one of him learning to reject his father and assert his self-worth and his own identity in the face of the man who has controlled him his whole life.

And yet, there are still some glaring problems that become more apparent as the story progresses, and they come to a head in Seasons 4 and 5. It's shown in scenes like in the episode Felix, where we see that despite everyone getting together to do something nice for Adrien, the moment he acts out of character, their first instinct is to admit that they don't know him very well at all. Almost all the interactions he has with his supposed best friend and his other friends are about setting him up with Marinette. Adrien only matters to them in his role as Marinette's future boyfriend. And this is not addressed by the narrative as something that should be fixed or resolved, or that it is even a problem in the first place.

Adrien's feelings are repeatedly denied in this show. From him having to simply forgive and forget how Ladybug hurt him, to him being repeatedly taken advantage of by Felix without the narrative letting him be upset over it, to his instant forgiveness of Gabriel, the narrative will not let Adrien feel anything negative towards the characters that the narrative actually cares about so as to not inconvenience them. His only purpose is to prop them up and bend to their needs, and anything he might realistically feel against them is invalidated and forgotten because it would go against his role of being their motivation/prop/plot device.

We also see a problem with narrative focus for him. Adrien is not the protagonist of the show, and my criticism is not that he does not get as much screentime as Marinette. The issue is that even the dedicated screentime he does get outside of being shipped with Marinette and being a part of the battle of the episode, the screentime that should be used to develop his character is often cut into by the writers' desperate need to shove Marinette into every single plot and have her be the focus of every episode. Episodes that should have focused on Adrien's loneliness like Puppeteer 2, or episodes dedicated to Adrien's friendships with others like Party Crasher, or even episodes like Gabriel Agreste which should have focused on the Agreste drama, are ultimately about Marinette trying to confess her feelings for Adrien. But this really shows itself in Chat Blanc, where the main plot of the episode is one where Gabriel's abuse of Adrien is ramped up to the max, and one where Adrien undergoes unimaginable and incomprehensible trauma, and the only thing that truly matters about it is... how it affects Marinette.

And as I said, Season 4 takes this to a new level. Ladybug, the one supposed to be Adrien's escape from his civilian life, is also someone who he fawns around. And that inherently is not a bad thing to depict, because it is not Ladybug's fault that Chat Noir is traumatized, and it is realistic that this happens. What is a problem though, is the way the narrative never paints this as a trauma response. Chat Noir pushing aside his feelings and supporting her as she repeatedly hurts him over and over is treated as good and nice of him, without her having to examine herself or realize she's treating him badly. And in the end, he accepts that he'll never be treated like he wants to and comes back to support her in her hour of need, and simply shoves his feelings away, never to complain about them again. I mentioned that Ladybug benefits from Chat Noir's civilian abuse, and this is how. Chat Noir is allowed to be traumatized, but only as long as it doesn't affect Marinette. Then, his trauma response is not only beneficial, but also the romantic and right thing to do. And, as Kuro Neko said, the answer to the issue of Ladybug keeping secrets and making mistakes is for Chat Noir to stop being so sensitive and just push his feelings away to support her. Chat Noir's trauma does not matter.

And Season 5 only doubles down on this. Adrien's rebellion against his father only matters now because the end goal is for him to date Marinette. The issue of him being a Sentimonster only matters because now it's getting in the way of him dating Marinette. But it could have been fine. Development is development, and the scene where Adrien finally confronts his abuser and asserts his right to be an individual and have autonomy over himself will still be an empowering moment that shows him breaking free of abuse-

He is not in the final battle.

Instead, Marinette is the one to face Adrien's abusive father, by merging Adrien's Miraculous with hers, by facing him off in Adrien's home. Marinette is the one who stands up to Gabriel and faces him. Marinette is the one who completes Adrien's arc for him. It was never about Adrien facing off against his father. It was all a set up for Marinette to do it.

As we all know, Thomas Astruc has gone on record on Twitter to say that Chat Blanc was the reason that Adrien could not participate in the final battle. Chat Blanc, which happened in Season 3, two seasons before Adrien rebelled to this extent against his father, before he underwent that little thing in writing called character development. In Season 4, we watched Ephemeral which more or less rehashed the same points as Chat Blanc, and in Season 5, we watched Representation, where Adrien's final interaction with his father was to be sprayed with nightmare gas and be unable to fight in the final battle (even though Bug Noire managed whilst also suffering from nightmares). We saw these ridiculous excuses be used to contrive a reason for why Adrien could not participate in his own arc, in his own story, even though they could have been easily resolved.

Throughout Season 5, we see the parallels being built up between Marinette and Gabriel, about how they both came from the same situations, and how alike they are in that regard. Previous parallels established between them that the show does not acknowledge as much as it should are their controlling streak (though Marinette is nowhere near as bad as Gabe) and them being willing to do anything for the people they love ("love" being questionable in Gabe's case). Marinette is the one who hears the truth of the Agreste family. In the Season 5 finale, Marinette and Gabriel are the ones that face off against each other. Adrienette was rushed up to come to full fruition in Season 5 despite it hampering the development of the Love Square, all in an attempt to connect Marinette to the Agreste plot. Therefore, Adrien was only ever a plot device so that Marinette could have a stake in the Agreste plot. He is there to connect Marinette and Gabriel and give them something to fight over. Their fight is about him and what is best for him, but he has no agency in it despite it being about him. He only exists as the prize for the winner.

I've talked about this before, but the jist of it is that Adrien was never meant to have an arc about breaking free of abuse. He was never meant to confront his father. Adrien's story only mattered so that Marinette could use it in her speech to talk Gabe down. Adrien's feelings only mattered as far as they affected Marinette herself. He was just meant to be there to further her development. His main contribution to the arc with his last name was to give up his agency and step aside for Marinette, and this is what his role has been throughout the show. All his character was meant to do was be the damsel in distress who she could receive as her trophy once she defeated the big bad villain.

Everything Adrien's character was meant to do was to be Ladybug's prop to offer he support when she needed it, to offer her a connection to the main plotline, and to be her prize after she won. His feelings, his emotions, his trauma... they all only mattered in the context of what they meant for Ladybug. If they inconvenienced her, they were unimportant. If they benefitted her, they were good. He took the blame for her mistakes so that she didn't have to be held accountable, he forgave her so that she didn't have to work to fix her mistakes, and he continued to support her when she didn't really return the favor. Because that is Adrien's role, to be Marinette's emotional support partner who conveniently comes pre-abused and ready to downplay his feelings and emotions to cater to hers while not asking or expecting anything of her. He only exists to take care of Marinette's needs, not as his own character.

And this writing of Adrien's trauma as secondary to Marinette's convenience is a really awful way to write an abuse victim. Not allowing him to prioritize his own feelings and portraying it as a good thing when he fawns over Ladybug is a really awful and bad way to portray his trauma stemming from his abuse. But good thing the fact that he is a victim of abuse is respected at least with regards to his relationship with his abuser, right?

Right?

It's been discussed before how Gabriel's actions are downplayed and minimized in order to afford him maximum sympathy, to portray him as just a misguided and lost soul, instead of as a terrorist and abuser (credit to @erisluna35 for their great post on the matter). The show denies Adrien an opportunity to confront the man, and instead, the good ending is that his victim forgives him. One way the show downplays Gabriel's abusiveness towards Adrien is by having Marinette want to work with him to find a solution for Adrien, implying that his only crime was to not think of Adrien's well-being, and that the only intentions he had for Adrien were correct, fatherly ones that he just lost sight of, and that if he had paid attention to Adrien, he would have been an excellent and loving father, instead of it being that he actively mistreated his son and therefore should not be trusted or allowed to make any sort of decision regarding Adrien's future. He was always "just a man who loves his family" deep down, and he always had only good intentions and a pure heart, and he simply forgot about what he had in pursuit of an ideal family for that son, instead of it being that he was an abusive, controlling person who whittled down his son's self-worth and treated him like a possession, like property, like a doll that was made to cater to his wishes, and that he only ever wanted his wife back for himself and not for his son.

And this just suggests to me that Gabriel's actions... are not meant to be read as abusive. His only crime was paying attention to the Miraculous over his son. Not the gaslighting, the manipulation, the lifelong isolation, the controlling, the physical violence in some realities, the fucking sensory deprivation chambers... those were all not abuse, I guess.

This is confirmed by the fact that Marinette and everyone else lying to Adrien about his existence because Gabriel asked them to do so is framed as a good thing and as proof of Marinette's love for Adrien or something. They are quite explicitly doing what he says, literally following his wishes on how to treat his son. And yet, their actions are not framed as toxic and controlling as they should be, but as selfless and kind towards poor Adrien who won't be able to handle the truth because he's too emotional and weak. Despite this being classic Gabe rhetoric, this is supposed to be seen as sweet and heartwarming and touching, that Marinette is oh so selfless to deny Adrien the information he is entitled to know and to make that choice for him. This tells us that the writers don't really see how Gabriel treated Adrien as... wrong. They don't see his actions are wrong, because when Marinette does it, it's fine! The issue, then, isn't that Gabriel is an abuser who denies his son his autonomy, it's that Gabriel did all these things for the wrong reasons, and Marinette is doing them for the right reasons.

Indeed, the parallelisms, whether intentional or not, between Marinette and Gabriel only serve to further downplay the magnitude of Gabriel's abuse of his son. The problem wasn't that these things are wrong and awful, it's that Gabriel did them because he was Evil and Marinette is doing them because she's Good, and when you're Good, it's okay to gaslight your boyfriend into loving his abuser. There's nothing inherently wrong or abusive about anything Gabriel did. The issue, in fact, is not that he did these things, but his reasonings for them. While it's okay if Marinette denies Adrien the right to be informed of his own life because she feels he is too emotional to be able to make his own choices, because she is Pure and Good and she Loves Him So Much.

And for another example, consider how Emilie Agreste is framed as a perfect and loving and wonderful mother, even though she allowed Adrien to be isolated his whole life and is also heavily implied to have been using the mind control rings on him, since there are two of them. This kinda shows that the writers don't really think mind controlling is abuse or even wrong. It's just wrong because Gabriel is Evil, but Emilie is Pure and Good and therefore allowed to abuse her child this way.

But I don't think the writers were malicious about this. Despite his questionable tweets, I don't think Thomas Astruc doesn't care about abuse. I don't think the writers were deliberately trying to infantilize the abuse victim in the story. I just feel like they don't understand that what they portrayed is abuse. And yet, it comes off as them invalidating the trauma Adrien suffered, but I don't think that would be intentional. The explanation I have for this, therefore, is that Adrien is not supposed to have trauma. Adrien is not supposed to be read as a victim of abuse.

I've mentioned the Marinette-Gabriel parallels, but let me add one more. Adrien is the plot device that furthers Marinette's character, but he also fulfills the same role for Gabriel.

Throughout Season 5, we see Adrien rebel against his father more and more, and it was expected that this would culminate in a final confrontation where Adrien would confront his abuser in his entirety. But Adrien was not a part of this final confrontation, so the arc wasn't about him, and it stands to reason that it must have been for some other character. We see that it is for Marinette, since she was the one who fulfilled what should have been his arc and got the moment that should have been Adrien's. But who was on the other side of this confrontation? Who was the one the speech was directed towards? Who did Adrien connect Marinette to?

It is Gabriel.

Adrien's callout of his father does not matter for furthering his character, but for furthering Gabriel's character. His calling out of Gabriel is less a way for him to finally realize that his father's treatment of him is cruel, and more of a way for Gabe to be seen a tragic, fallen villain. Adrien's callout of his father is not about him, it's about Gabriel and how he feels about it. The finale deals not with Adrien's feelings about being failed by his father, but how Gabriel feels about having failed him. Adrien's increasing rejection of his father is not used to finish the arc he should have had, but it is used in Gabriel's instead. And Gabriel's redemption comes from him being praised by his victim, who aspires to be like him. Adrien was only ever there to progress Gabriel's arc, not the other way around. Adrien had no real agency in the matter, and Gabriel's increasingly cruel treatment of him was only ever there to highlight how far he himself had fallen and was never really about Adrien realizing the truth about him.

And once Gabriel makes the choice to "change," he is rewarded with the forgiveness and love of his victim, who is there to conveniently express to the viewer how we should feel about him. Adrien is there to call out Gabriel when Gabriel is being Bad and Evil and is there to then inform the viewers that Gabriel is Good now by forgiving him and forgetting all his mistakes. Because Adrien forgave Gabriel and isn't Gabriel so wonderful now that he's made up for his mistakes and his victim has forgiven him and even looks up to him?

The main highlight of Gabriel's supposed redemption is the forgiveness of his victim, further highlighting the point that Adrien only existed as a character to push Gabriel's narrative, and not as a victim of abuse who is entitled to decide whether or not to forgive this man. Adrien did not forgive Gabriel because of a natural and believable development in his arc, he forgave him because he is ultimately a plot device to exposit about the current state of Gabriel's arc and to show the viewer what kind of a man Gabriel is, and Gabriel is good now, and so he must be validated through the forgiveness of his victim. Adrien is a prop in Gabriel's arc, who shows us the tragedy of Gabriel's fall and the future redemption of his "selfless sacrifice." His character that of "Gabriel's son," to take us through Gabriel's arc, and not a character of his own.

And since Adrien's ultimate end is to show that Gabriel is a good man after all, it also lends credence to the interpretation that, no, he is not traumatized after all. Nothing actually happened to Adrien himself, because he is only a plot device, not a character. He is there to let us know the tragedy of the man Gabriel. He is just there to let us know where Gabriel is in his arc. We see this in the way his development in just completely erased once Gabriel is "redeemed." His reactions don't make sense in the context of his arc, and it's OOC how he goes from calling out his father for who he is and then reverting back to worshipping him and forgetting all his flaws. But when you consider that the purpose of his character is less being his own character and more about highlighting and pushing forward Gabriel's arc, they make a lot more sense. His reactions don't make sense for the development that he has received throughout the season, but it makes sense if you consider that he is just a cog in Gabriel's story, and that his arc only matters as far as it affects Gabriel's arc. His struggles only matter as far as they affect Gabriel. Just like they only matter in the way they affect Marinette. Adrien doesn't get to learn anything, choose anything or even do anything if it is not about Marinette or Gabriel.

But to go back to the question at the beginning of the post, what purpose does it serve in Adrien's arc to have everyone he knows lie to him?

The answer is that Adrien does not have an arc.

Of course, it seems like he does. He does show some form of growth in calling out his father, so it would appear. But the arc of realizing his father is abusive, the arc of realizing that he deserves to make his own choices, that he deserves unconditional love... does not exist. He is only a plot device in the story, meant to be the motivation for the protagonist and the antagonist. Any arc or character complexity he has is largely accidental. His story about being a victim of abuse is unimportant and non-existent, and the show itself denies him agency and the ability to have any meaningful impact on the story outside of his role in the arcs of the main characters of the show. He has nothing of his own happening for him, he has nothing to do with his own life and family. All he matters for is to be the prop for Gabe's redemption and the prize for Marinette. His only role is to connect these two so that they can duke it out.

He has no autonomy, no agency, no nothing outside of being what Gabriel and Marinette need. We can scream until we're blue in the face about how Adrien feels the need to put on masks to please everyone and has been conditioned into believing his worth is based on pleasing others and that his emotions don't matter, and to be fair I will not stop making those analyses myself, but the fact remains that this is his narrative role. The narrative validates the abuser, both through the actions of the characters around Adrien and the framing of his arc. The characters around him don't treat him as a person as much as they treat him as Marinette's boyfriend, or as someone who doesn't get to make informed choices and should be kept in the dark because he is too emotional. The narrative treats him as a doll who must bend to the needs of the real characters with arcs and a story in the show, as a character who does not have agency and any value of his own beyond being what other characters need. His supposed development is only there to highlight Gabriel's fall. His own feelings and trauma are invalidated in favor of focusing on Marinette. Nothing he does is about him, it's about the main two characters in the show.

The show goes out of its way to remove him from the conflict. There are two episodes devoted to how he cannot ever find out about his father. He gets sprayed with nightmare gas. Fuck, even the only importance of him being a Sentimonster is to make sure that Adrien cannot find a way to break free of Gabriel's control and actually contribute to the plot. The Sentimonster plotline is mainly meant to make sure that there is no way that Adrien would be able to break free of Gabriel's control, hence he cannot take part in the final battle. Its very existence in the story boils down to being a convenient excuse for Adrien to not be a part of the finale. The only importance of the rings is ultimately so that Marinette can have a moment to slide it on his finger while ambiguously either giving him an order or not (I wouldn't be surprised if it was since the show doesn't seem to think mind control is wrong) to show that she's Good and Not Like Gabriel. The Sentimonster thing is textually a plot device to make characters unable to do anything because they physically can't. And it only serves to reduce Adrien into even more of an object, because he's now literally an object. The deeper ramifications of Adrien being a Sentimonster are never explored. It literally only exists to deprive Adrien of more agency so that Marinette can get into the spotlight. The only thing that matters about it is that it is now in the way of Adrienette, once more only focusing on how Adrien's issues affect Marinette.

Adrien is literally reduced to being a part of the magic slave race, because he cannot under any circumstance be a part of the finale and be the one to confront his abuser. And to a smaller extent, this is also the case for Felix and Kagami, two people who have a closer connection to the plotline beyond "fighting the guy who won't let me date my boyfriend." They are also Sentimonsters, and therefore have no choice but to rely on Marinette to save them and cannot fight alone even though Felix had no problem with that in the last season. The Sentimonster plotline is just an excuse to remove anyone with closer ties to Gabriel than his son's girlfriend from the conflict. Either they are working with Gabriel, or they are part of the slave race and cannot fight him, leaving only Marinette to do that for them. But like, at least Felix and Kagami got to make an informed choice about it without being lied to by everyone.

And this denial of abuse and the invalidating of Adrien's trauma leads to some pretty crazy abuse apologism for Gabe. And yes, reducing the impact of Gabriel's abuse, trying to pass him off as "just a man who loves his family," and denying the abuse that Adrien suffered throughout the show is in fact, abuse apologism. And the creators' insistence that Adrien was not emotionally mature enough to fight his father, being that this was the point of Chat Blanc all along apparently, also falls into this same trap of implying that abuse victims are not capable of making sound decisions and having autonomy over their own life, and isn't it so nice that Adrien is now Marinette's doll instead of being Gabriel's. It's victim blaming garbage, and it is frankly really gross. But in the narrative tells us what Gabriel has been telling us from day one about Adrien, that he is too emotional, that he must be protected, that he cannot make his own choices and his autonomy is better left in the hands of others, that his only purpose is to be a doll and a prop for the people around him. He only matters as far as he is useful to them.

And if you want to see the most damning example of Adrien being irrelevant outside his role as the motivation for the two people who actually drive what should be his story, look no further than Chat Noir.

Chat Noir is the only thing that indisputably belongs to Adrien. Chat Noir is him asserting his agency, his freedom, his choices. Chat Noir is his. And Chat Noir is not part of the finale. Not even in terms of physical presence. Chat Noir is an absolute non-entity in the finale. I'm not talking about Adrien; I mean Chat Noir. Chat Noir, who spent nine months fighting Monarch by Ladybug's side. Chat Noir, the owner of the Black Cat Miraculous. Chat Noir in Miraculous: Tales of Ladybug and Chat Noir, is missing in both body and mind from this final battle against his father. The one part of his life and the one part of the story where Adrien had any agency and autonomy of his own, was removed entirely from the finale. Chat Noir was reduced into nothing, to mean nothing. Because Ladybug only went there for Adrien and not to finish her and Chat Noir's fight.

Ladybug didn't fight Monarch in order to end their months-long crusade, she didn't acknowledge that Chat Noir was at least there with her in spirit, she didn't come to Monarch to put an end to the battle that they'd fought for so long with any intentions of at least wanting to carry his fight along with her to bring their enemy to an end, she wasn't there for both of them. She came there for Adrien. She came there to look for Adrien. And the symbol of Adrien's agency, Chat Noir's ring, was on her finger throughout her fight with his father over him. Chat Noir did not matter.

I'll say it again. Adrien had nothing. He was only a tool for Marinette and Gabriel. His role was to be passed on from Gabriel's clutches to Marinette's. And it paints a very bad picture that the one reduced to the role of the plot device is the abuse victim. And for anyone who doubts that Adrien is supposed to be Marinette's plot device, Thomas Astruc has helpfully made my point for me by tweeting that Adrien is Ken and Marinette is Barbie, and that we should just deal with it because it's not going to change. And I hope that this also makes it clear that we will not be dealing with the fact that Marinette is siding with her boyfriend's abuser and doing what he wants, because Marinette is always right, and Adrien doesn't get to have feelings that inconvenience her and only exists to prop her up.

The show makes it clear that he is just an object in the story from the way he's written as a damsel in distress who needs someone else to come save him, and this is taken even further by the fact that he is literally a puppet who can be mind controlled. It takes away Adrien's story of regaining autonomy and informs us that he was never supposed to have autonomy and never can, making it clear that he was never really supposed to have any arc of his own. He was never supposed to break out from his father. His end was to become Marinette's boyfriend and to worship Gabriel. Because that is how their arcs end, and their plot device must go along with it regardless of narrative implications or established characterization.

But that is Adrien's purpose in the show. For Marinette to beat the villain, and to receive his son as her prize for doing that. His abuse and trauma are secondary to Marinette's needs, and him being a victim of Gabriel's abuse is secondary to him being the vessel for Gabriel's redemption. He is only there to be a source of motivation for these two characters and to cater to their arcs. Marinette and Gabriel are the only ones who matter, who have agency in the story. Adrien is just a simple plot device to push their arcs, instead of having one himself. There is no arc for the abuse victim. He exists solely as an object, as property, as a damsel in distress, as a doll. There is no agency and autonomy for him in this story. And that is the unfortunate truth.

#MLB #Adrien Agreste #ML Salt #ML Writing Salt #ML Writers Salt #Marinette Salt #Felix Salt #I guess?? Tagging to be safe mostly #S5 Finale #Sentimonsters #Meta #My meta #Abuse tw #Abuse cw #Ladynoir conflict

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retellingthehobbit · 3 months

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Your retelling, will it be implying a Thorin/Bilbo attraction?

I ask because I just discovered that ship and when I looked it up on tumblr, it led me to your work lolol

Every time someone asks me this I feel more like I'm making a Real Adaptation! I love the idea of people following this webcomic for years while analyzing the gay subtext as if they're waiting to see if Supernatural will make Destiel canon. a powerful feeling. The short answer is yes! The long answer is that it's complicated, and that if you're not a Bilbo/Thorin Person you should still stick around because I'm going to handle it in a very funky way that is not what you're expecting (also at the rate I draw, it won't be "canon" in the comic for approximately 2039482289798334534534534534 years.) Generally Thorin's role in my version of the story is that he's a living embodiment of The Quest, and Bilbo's feelings for Thorin mirror his feelings for the Adventure. When Thorin first arrives at Bag End, Bilbo is overwhelmed and annoyed and confused-- he finds him both fascinating and horribly frustrating at turns, and has no idea how to feel about Thorin in the same way he has no idea whether he'll join the adventure. As the story continues, Bilbo's feelings on the Quest will shift, and his feelings about Thorin will shift as well. I just really love the general idea of a new take on Thorin where he has a bit more pathos and a deeper relationship with Bilbo. I also think the way LOTR retroactively reframes The Hobbit as a story written by 'unreliable narrator Bilbo Baggins' adds to the possibilities a lot! there's a lot of queer subtext in Lord of the Rings, and it's fun to bring more of that subtext into the Hobbit. Tolkien often refers to hobbit adventures as "queerness,' and makes "queerness" the name for the thing that bigoted hobbits are afraid of; the fact that Bilbo has been repressing the "queer" part of himself that he inherited from his mother is, canonically, the thing he's struggling with in the beginning of the story.

I really enjoy the bit in the Unfinished Tales where Gandalf describes Bilbo like this:

And now I found that he was 'unattached' - to jump on again for of course I did not know all this until I went back to the Shire. I learned that he had never married. I thought that odd though I guessed why it was; and the reason that I guessed was not that most of the Hobbits gave me: that he had early been left very well off and his own master. No, I guessed that he wanted to remain 'unattached' for some reason deep down which he did not understand himself - or would not acknowledge, for it alarmed him.

That feeling of not being "out to yourself" and not knowing what it is that you want out of life is just!!! It's just very compelling to me.

Thorin's still gonna die though. Don't you hate it when you have this whole elaborate coming-out-to-yourself story but then your first gay crush is so Problematic he kiiiinda nearly starts a war so you betray him by stealing the Heart of his Mountain in order to prevent that war, but then the war happens anyway and he dies horribly :/. A universal gay experience.

Thorin is also an interesting character to play with, especially because I'm diverging more from the book (compared to Bilbo or Gandalf.) The way I'm planning to handle him is that he's a character we see only "from the outside," from the perspective of other characters, and no character sees every side of him. The dwarves portray him as a noble king; the elves portray him as a haughty arrogant joke, to the point where it affects Tolkien's own "translation" of the story; Bilbo has his own complicated feelings about Thorin, but even his portrayal of Thorin is heavily biased and he never gets to see the full picture.

But yeah-- the Hobbit is originally a very lighthearted story, but I do think there are lot of darker and deeper emotions you could explore in it if you wanted to, particularly if you bring in the metatext of how it's reframed in Lord of the Rings. And I do want to explore those darker emotions! So I am XD. There already was an extremely book-accurate comic adaptation of the Hobbit that came out in the late nineties (though it's super short and the pages are cramped to fit in all the prose)-- so I don't really see the point of being obsessively close to the original novel, since an obsessively close comic adaptation already exists. This comic is for the Weird Queer Overly Emotional Metatextual Reframing of The Hobbit!! Anyway, it's fun.

#thank you for the ask!#sorry it takes me so long to answer things XD #the hobbit #lotr #the hobbit comic #retelling the hobbit #asks

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buckychristwrites · 1 year

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Colors in the Dark | b.b. | Part Two

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: It’s been years since it was revealed that Bucky has a soulmate. And while he doesn’t remember anything about them, he hopes to see them again one day.

Word Count: 2.2k

Warnings: Surprisingly fluff

A/N: Just a quick tale of reunion, since a few people were wondering if Bucky would ever meet his soulmate again. I’m not sure if anyone will read this but i wrote it in less than a day and had fun, so i hope someone does. Enjoy :)

Part One | Masterlist

“I had a soulmate once.”

The scratching of the pen on paper came to a halt.

“Everyone has a soulmate,” she explained as-a-matter-of-factually. Bucky huffed.

“I know that,” he said, annoyed. “I mean, I met mine once.” Dr. Raynor laid her pen down on the pad on her desk, her attention now fully on Bucky.

“Back before the war?” She asked. He let out a humorless laugh as he shook his head.

“You would think. No, it was actually the same day I ran into Steve. As the…” He waved his hand. “Soldier.” He didn’t like saying the name. The Winter Soldier. It made him feel some type of way. He tried to brush off that feeling as he looked back at his therapist. “I have vague memories of it sometimes. Seeing in color.” Dr. Raynor’s eyebrows furrowed together.

“But you don’t see color now?”

He shook his head once again. “They wiped my memories.” A hard lump formed in his throat, and he tried to swallow it down. Despite the fact that Bucky could remember most things about himself now, and from his time as the Winter Soldier, the memories of his soulmate were never able to be recovered. He sometimes found himself wondering if there was something in the universe stopping him from being able to remember. Would the memories give him back the ability to see color? Would he need to meet you again?

“Why haven’t you brought this up until now?” Dr. Raynor asked, a hint of suspicion in her tone.

“Probably the same reason I don’t bring up a lot of things,” Bucky said in a joking tone, and he did not elaborate further. Raynor rolled her eyes.

“How does the idea of meeting them again make you feel?” She asked him. That was one thing Bucky never tried to consider. Sure, he pictured what it would be like, and sometimes he found himself watching people in the street and wondering to himself if any of those people could be the one. But he never wanted to consider the feelings behind it all. In reality, it brought him a great deal of fear, the idea of confronting this part of his past. It wasn’t like you were just a bystander to the chaos that was his time in HYDRA. He had hunted you. Fought you. Even tried to kill you. IN what world would anyone, even his predetermined soulmate, forgive him for that? Though there was a chance Steve had attempted to clear his name, you were never brought up in any of the time Steve and he had spent together since Bucky’s treatment in Wakanda. And now with Steve gone, he had no way of finding out the answer.

“The answer to that should be obvious,” was all he said, mostly because he did not want to answer. Taking the hint, Raynor backed off, instead looking down at her watch.

“That’s time,” she said, looking up at him with narrowed eyes. “But we will be picking this back up next week.” Bucky’s chair squealed against the hard floor as he pushed it backwards to stand up.

“Don’t hold your breath.”

It was at this time that you were walking down the street, cradling your head with one hand while holding the strap of your bag with another. It was a migraine day for you, as most days were anymore, and while your body yearned for the dark bedroom back at your apartment, your morning agenda had other plans for you. Life had to go on, even if your new debilitation didn’t want it to.

Your bag was heavy on your shoulders as you jogged across the street. Washington D.C. was as welcoming today as it always was, a chorus of horns greeting you as you made your way. It had become second nature to ignore them.

The day was a mix of gray and blue, but every day was a mix of gray and something. The sidewalks were a parade of people making their way to a destination that was much more important than anyone else’s, except for the tourists who just couldn’t help but stop and get in the way.. As you made it to another crosswalk, you marked off another street closer to home. It was like you could taste the feeling of lying down after a long morning of engagements. Maybe a shower was in order, before ordering take out and settling in before the clock struck two. The idea of it sounded marvelous.

Out of the corner of your eye, you could see the Avenger’s mural that was painted just weeks after half the population reappeared after 5 years. You felt a pang in your chest, as you always did when you saw it. You opened your eyes one moment to find that five years had passed, and the two closest friends you had, Natasha and Steve, were both gone. Although it had almost been a year since then, sometimes your heart felt the loss the same way it did the first time.

The sight on the mural that always made you stop, no matter how many times you saw it, was the man with the long hair and metal arm. Every single time you walked by this mural, it always stopped you in your tracks.

You still remembered the aftermath of the fight, when Steve explained who the man in the mask was. The way your heart grieved over the idea it had for who and what your soulmate would be. Never in a million years did you imagine that you’d be paired with a one hundred year old master assassin. Someone who now had tried to kill you. Someone you may never even see again. The devastation hit you like a train, but it also made your heart break for the man. Despite it all, he was just a man, who wasn’t in his right mind. He had lost something too.

And then, in an instant, the world changed again.

It was that same night that the colors you had just gained were ripped from your sight, replaced with a static of a mix of gray and vibrancy that you couldn’t escape. The pain in your head was indescribable and, unbeknownst to you at the time, damn near inescapable. One would assume that with your abilities, you’d be able to make the pain disappear in an instant, but nothing you did helped with the pain.

It was a rare day that your head was pain free, but this moment, with you looking at the mural on the building near your apartment, you felt the migraine dissolve. It made you want to stand there all day. Just you and the idea of your soulmate. Was it funny? Or did you want to cry? It was hard to tell sometimes.

Bucky’s boots clambered down the concrete steps as he left his therapist’s D.C. office. In town for the week on work, Bucky felt it necessary to make sure he saw her. The streets of the Capital made him uneasy anymore, considering how things went the last time he was in town.

Something about the conversation with Dr. Raynor made him feel more tense than usual. As he walked down the sidewalk, he had to keep reminding himself to un-clench his jaw, and even then, a moment later, his teeth would be pressed together once more. He attempted to distract himself by listing off the things he had to do that day. Grocery shop. Text Sam’s nephews to figure out how to Facetime. Facetime Sam’s nephews. Cook dinner. Clean out the catbox.

A shoulder ramming into his own brought his stress right back, causing him to turn around. He did not come face to face with the culprit, but what he did find was much worse.

He found himself just across the street from the Avengers mural. It was like he could feel the tension creeping up his body as he swallowed hard. He always made an effort to avoid the mural as much as possible. Despite how grateful he was to be included, all it did was remind him of what he had lost. Seeing his old friend in the painting made him choke up a little, and before he knew it, he found himself crossing the street to get a closer look.

Your phone vibrated in your pocket, but you ignored it as you enjoyed the bliss. Nothing but a few words and a lot of punches were exchanged between you and him. Soulmates were destined, and everyone only had one. Sometimes it felt like a huge joke, to be paired with someone who was programmed to kill you upon your first meeting. And yet, you found yourself wondering often where he ended up after Wakanda. You never had a chance to find out. The time to reintroduce yourself just never seemed to come. And then Steve, the only connection you had to him, was gone. The easiest thing you could do was to move on. But some days, you still wondered.

A cool breeze hit you, and you looked up just in time as a raindrop hit your cheek.

“Fuck,” you grumbled as the single drop turned quickly into a down poor. If you hadn’t gotten distracted, you would’ve made it home before the rain. Annoyed, you immediately spun around and ran for the crosswalk. You noticed a moment too late that you didn’t bother looking before stepping into the street.

Before you knew it, a pair of arms wrapped around you and yanked you backwards, sending your head flying downward into your chest. It took a second for you to realize that you were being dragged away from the road, your feet forgetting how to do their only job. In a moment of haste, you shoved yourself out of the strangers firm grasp.

“I’m safe now, thanks!” You huffed, pretending you weren’t completely embarrassed by what just occurred. The bus that almost hit you was still blaring its horn, the driver flicking you off in the most unprofessional of ways. Raising a sheepish hand, you averted eye contact with your savior as you grabbed your bag, which had, at some point in the encounter, been thrown to the ground.

“You’re fucking welcome, I guess.”

Your eyes snapped up at the sound of the voice, your cheeks getting hot. When your eyes found the stranger, you only caught his profile as he turned to walk away. His hair was much shorter, and he was dressed differently this time, but it was him. You’d know him anywhere.

“Bucky?”

The deja vu was enough in itself, but the way he reacted to the sound of his name made your heart pound in your throat. He froze as if someone hit the pause button on a remote control, and too many seconds passed by before he finally turned around, his eyes falling on yours.

When the world lit up around you, your lungs forgot how to breathe.

The TV static that had filled your vision for years was replaced with the vivid colors that you had experienced only once so long ago. Subconsciously, your hands covered your mouth as you looked around.

Bucky, on the other hand, couldn’t take his eyes off you. It was like the memory of you was on the tip of his tongue for years. Now that he was looking at you, he felt crazy for ever forgetting. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. Finally, you looked back at him, seeming to remember that it wasn’t just the colors of the world that had returned to you.

“I- I never got your name,” were the first words to tumble out of his mouth. You broke out in a smile before telling him. He couldn’t tell which made him happier, the smile on your face, or the sound of your voice. So happy, in fact, that he could feel his chest get heavy, and his eyes tear up, though he quickly blinked those away. He didn’t need to cause another awkward meeting with you.

Little did Bucky know that you felt the same. Seeing him now, after all these years, knowing that he was not only alive but also healing, brought you so much joy that you couldn’t tell if you wanted to sob or yell out. And maybe kiss him, despite yourself. He was, after all, your soulmate.

“I’m sorry I tried to kill you,” he said sheepishly, his arm reaching behind his head to scratch his neck. There was something about his embarrassment that was so endearing to you.

“Well, you just saved my life,” you reminded him. “So I think we’re even now.” He smiled at the ground, a slight pink in his cheeks.

“Maybe I could buy you a coffee?” You offered. He looked back up, as if relieved by the invitation.

“I’ll buy,” He countered. “I think you’ve done enough today.”

But for the both of you, the day, and your lives, had only just begun.

#Bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes one shot #marvel fanfiction

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jammatown919 · 21 days

Text

Mistakes Were Made (Chapter One)

A Lightcannon fic I've been chipping away at for a while now.

Fic Description: Jinx unintentionally forces Lux to out herself as a mage.

Lux never would have thought so much good could come out of being kidnapped.

Sure, most people would be terrified to have a blue-haired stranger appear in a flash of light and whisk them away to some sort of pocket dimension for a death match with eight more strangers, but honestly... it had been really, really fun.

Once she'd gotten over the initial shock of it all, Lux didn't have as much of a problem playing along as one might think. The stranger, Jinx, had been more than happy to demonstrate to her that no one could really die in this place she called the Rift, via a swift gunshot to her own head. Lux had maybe screamed a little, but it was definitely comforting to have confirmation that a fallen player would simply reappear at one of two ends of the map, no worse for wear.

Really, it was a lot easier than it should have been to get Lux to play, and from there, everything just sort of spiraled.

Free of all consequences and a good amount of her usual inhibitions, Lux was able to really let loose with her magic for the first time. Jinx seemed to appreciate her raw power and how ever so slightly nuts she'd gone at possibly her only opportunity to do literally whatever she wanted with it. The two of them didn't even need their teammates to completely dominate the game, which they did with reckless abandon.

When it was over, Jinx returned Lux safely home as she'd promised, but not without a promise whispered in the seconds before she vanished again: "I am definitely keeping you, Blondie."

For about a month after that, Lux managed to convince herself it had been some crazy, fantastical dream brought on by her repressive environment. In a country like Demacia, with a family like the Crownguards, it was only natural her subconscious mind would invent a reality it preferred. One where she could use her magic freely, go off on an adventure, and buddy up to someone who represented all of her temptations in life, both physical and otherwise.

But then Jinx made good on her promise, and Lux instead convinced herself she'd simply received a gift from some god somewhere out there. The escape she longed for was real, and her new friend had come back for her.

They continued their games whenever they could, typically at one-to-two-month intervals because of how difficult it could be to get ten people from all over the world together. Lux noticed as time went on that there would often be changes to roster of other players, until at one point she and Jinx were the only two left from their first game.

"Ah, sometimes you just gotta swap 'em out for people who are more fun," Jinx said when Lux asked about it. "Not you, though, Blondie. You were always the most fun."

Eventually, after quite a few swaps and trial runs, Jinx managed to put a solid long-term team together. Her and Lux, of course, with the addition of a surprisingly friendly creature made entirely out of green slime, a pink-haired songbird type on an elaborate hoverboard, and a man in a mask with a very different hoverboard who absolutely refused to play until Jinx pulled him aside for a long private conversation.

Zac, Seraphine, and Ekko. All people Jinx claimed were from home. Or almost, in Sera's case. It was these three, particularly Ekko, who gave Lux some much needed insight into Jinx as a person.

Another area in which Lux differed from most people was that most people would probably feel betrayed or disgusted or afraid upon hearing that their friend had blown up a city-state's entire government. But Lux had heard a thing or two about Piltover's old Council, largely from some of the previous players Jinx had brought around, and to be honest, she considered blowing them up to be an act of community service. A little brutal, yes, but a genuine favor to the people suffering under their rule.

What got to her a little more were the personal blows Ekko had taken. The betrayal of his oldest friend, and her subsequent murders of several of his newer friends. Only the fact that she hadn't gone near him in years made it possible for him to look at her now. Only an old, barely surviving desire to see her be better compelled him to play her game. She needed it, he claimed, to get the crazy out somewhere it wouldn't really hurt anyone.

Jinx didn't seem to love being presented with this information later that day, but she engaged with it nonetheless. Admitted to everything. Agreed with Ekko's assessment. The game was fun, yes, but it was primarily an outlet. A form of therapy, almost. Lux had to respect her for that; for recognizing what she needed to keep herself in check and following through with it.

They played on for another year, mostly sticking with Jinx's favorite assortment of allies but consistently switching up the members of the enemy team to keep things interesting. Lux got more and more used to this recreational violence, but she still found it exciting every time.

Strangely, though, the most exciting part to her was always that Jinx had never lost her initial awe of Lux's performance in the games. She was consistently impressed, often staring, and always laying the praise on thick. This all came to a head after a particularly exciting match, in which Lux had stuck with Jinx in the bottom section of the map and completely destroyed their lane with her. That, according to Jinx, had been "super hot", and one thing led to another led to Lux pinned against a tree in the jungle area with Jinx's lips and hands roaming her body.

This quickly became a standard post-game ritual of theirs, and over the course of the next six months, they grew steadily more emotionally invested each other. Neither of them could say exactly when their relationship became "official", but it did at one point or another, and thinking about it got Lux through the time spent between matches with her mental health more or less intact.

Even at times like this, when she was cooped up in the Crowngaurd Estate, awaiting tomorrow's arrival of a suitor she'd been expected to entertain for at least a weekend, she could sit by her window and draw little pictures of her girlfriend. And once the man was gone, rejected at the end of his opportunity to court her like the three that had come before him, she could look forward to the next game.

She did wonder how many more suitors her parents would allow her to cycle through before they really began to insist that she settle down, but she felt safe for the moment. At least for now, her family seemed to perceive her rejection of each and every suitor as pickiness, and that was fine by them. No noble would want their daughter to settle for just anyone, after all. She could turn up her nose at prospective mates all she wanted, and they'd simply keep bringing in more for her consideration.

It would likely get worse as she aged and cut into more of her "childbearing years", as her mother liked to put it, but for now, she was twenty-three and tolerated in her role as the stuck-up young noblewoman who would settle for no less than the perfect husband.

Yeah, right, she chuckled to herself as she outlined the shape of Jinx's shoulders on her page. Like there's such a thing.

For her, at least, there would never be such a man. One day, when it all got to be too much, she would leave this place behind. Jinx would come for her and whisk her away, not for the day but forever. For all the love she held for her family and the better aspects of her country, Lux knew her future did not lie here. She would leave it all behind eventually, when she was ready to say goodbye.

Until then, she would draw and play pretend and dream and be satisfied with her brief escapes.

She smiled at Jinx's sketched face looking up at her, longing to see the real thing again. They were about due for another game, but Jinx tended to show up with absolutely no warning, so Lux could only give her best guess as to when they'd see each other.

Right now, apparently.

The window by Lux's desk flew open despite having definitely been locked a second before, and in climbed the very woman who occupied the majority of Lux's thoughts these days.

"Mornin', Sunshine," Jinx crowed, dropping from the window to her feet.

"It's nighttime," Lux corrected her gently. Jinx squinted out the open window, like she'd only just realized.

"Huh," she said under her breath. "Guess so."

"It's good to see you, but what's with the entrance tonight?" Lux inquired, recapturing Jinx's attention. "You usually just zap right into my room. And... how did you even get up to my window?"

"Ah, y'know, climbed, dodged some guards," Jinx said rather flippantly. "Had a pretty good time, I guess, but that's not the important part. It's game time, Blondie! Got everything all ready to go!"

"Tonight?" Lux asked.

"Yeah, for tonight." Jinx held out her hand, as she often did, to invite Lux into her teleporter's range.

"I'm sorry, Jinx, but I can't tonight." Honestly, it was kind of a miracle they'd gotten this far without ever having some kind of scheduling conflict. "I have to be up at dawn to greet a suitor."

"A what?" Jinx's brow furrow slightly.

"A suitor," Lux echoed. "A man my parents invited here to get to know me. He's going to spend the weekend trying to court me."

"Huh?" In an adorably canine fashion, Jinx tilted her head to the side.

"Trying to impress me so I might want to marry him," Lux explained. "And I won't, of course! I send all my suitors away. But I still have to entertain them for the time they're given."

"Ohhhh." Jinx let out a small chuckle, which was a better reaction than Lux had expected. Knowing her and her past, threatening to simply murder all of Lux's suitors had been a very real possibility. Instead, she said, "just skip it."

"What?" Like it would ever be that easy. It wasn't even an option, really.

"Skip it," Jinx persisted. "You don't wanna do it, right? And it's stopping you from doing something you do wanna do. So just don't do it. Come with me instead."

Lux would be lying if she said the idea wasn't tempting, but she knew better than to think she could accept. It was too easy to lose track of time on the Rift; too easy to have it interfere with the plans that had been made for her. She would never be able to come up with an acceptable excuse if someone came looking for her and she was nowhere to be found on such an important day.

"I'd like to, Jinx, but I really can't," Lux said as gently as she could. "I have to wait until after this weekend."

"Aw, c'mon, Blondie," Jinx pleaded. "Everyone else is ready to go. We need ya."

"Maybe you can find a substitute this time?" The suggestion almost physically pained her, but not as much as it seemed to offend Jinx.

"No way," she said stubbornly. "You're the best part. It won't be any fun without you."

"I'm flattered, but-" Lux stopped dead as someone knocked twice at her bedroom door. Her entire body stiffened, and she stood to grab Jinx as if she were going to shove her back out the window. "Shit. You have to go."

"Why?" There was a distinct whine to Jinx's voice that was entirely too loud for the situation.

"Luxanna? Are you talking to someone?" Garen called from the other side of the door. Lux supposed it was better than her parents, but still not good by any means.

"I can't let anyone see you," Lux hissed. "I can't explain this to my family."

"I ain't scared of 'em," Jinx protested, "and you shouldn't be either. They're just a bunch'a fancy dickheads with sticks up their asses. I don't get why you think you have to listen to them."

"Lux, are you alright?" The knocking grew louder and more insistent. "Who's in there?"

"Jinx, please." But it was too late.

The door wasn't locked. Lux never locked it, because why would she in a place like this, where she was always safe and disturbing her privacy was a punishable offense for anyone but the parents who rarely cared to visit her quarters? Except Garen had probable cause, hearing an unfamiliar voice in Lux's room.

He threw the door right open and walked on in. For a second, nothing happened. They were just three people staring at each other. Then, all Hell broke loose.

Garen quickly took notice of Jinx's weapons and reached for his sword. Why he had it on him right now, Lux didn't know and didn't have time to ask. Jinx, in response, removed the gun she called Zapper from its holster and pressed it to the side of Lux's head.

"What the hell are you doing?!" Lux glanced back at her, bewildered but not afraid. Crazy as she was, Jinx would never pull the trigger. Not on her.

"Lux!' Garen quickly drew his blade, but the gun to her head stayed his hand. Guns weren't common weapons in Demacia, but Garen knew enough to know he would never cross the room fast enough. If Jinx actually wanted to kill Lux, she could do it in an instant. "Unhand her!"

Jinx took Lux by the arm and dragged her up from her seat. "New game, Blondie."

"What?" Oh, Lux did not like the sound of that.

"If we can't play fight, we'll play keep-away instead." Jinx secured her free arm around Lux's middle and began to back them both up toward the window.

"Jinx, wait-"

Lux didn't have time to finish her objection before Jinx, dragging her along, leaped through the open window. She didn't know which was louder; Garen's horrified cry or Jinx's shriek of delight as they plummeted toward a well-kept garden three stories below.

"Do your thing, Blondie!" she called.

Her thing? What the hell was "her thing" in a situation like this?

"Break our fall!" Jinx clarified when Lux just stared at her incredulously.

Oh! She wanted a hard light barrier, like the ones Lux often used to shield herself and her allies on the Rift. It probably wouldn't work to break a fall in the traditional sense, but Lux was no stranger to getting creative with her magic. She just had to pray nobody saw.

They both collided hard with a barely visible structure that had appeared directly beneath them, then began to slide forward at a sharp decline that gradually eased up. Lux kept her eyes closed, concentrating on the next few feet, then the next, then the next, trying to keep them at a pace that would get them to the ground quickly but not injure them on impact.

It was harder than one might think to keep up with it, even with all the magic practice she got on the Rift, and Jinx hollering excitedly in her ear didn't help.

They landed in a rosebush and seemed to take every single thorn with them as they rolled out in a tangled heap. Jinx ended up on top of Lux, staring down at her with bright eyes and a joyful grin.

"You gotta do that more often!"

"Shhh!" Lux sat up, nearly smacking her forehead against Jinx's with the speed of it, spitting out leaves as she harshly shushed her. "Someone probably heard us land. You have to get out of here."

"Aww, don't worry, Blondie," Jinx replied lightly. "I'm great at keep-away!"

"No," Lux groaned, but she didn't have time to air her frustrations. She could already hear voices and footsteps swiftly approaching.

"And that's our cue." Once more, Jinx grabbed Lux by the arm and hoisted her up, then she took off running. Lux was left with no choice but to stumble after her, mind searching desperately for a way to defuse this situation.

"Jinx, there's nowhere to go!" Lux insisted.

"That's what they think." Jinx casually raised Zapper to remind Lux she still had it, even though by all logic she really should've dropped it in the fall.

"No!" Lux pushed Jinx's arm down. She didn't know what the hell she would do if Jinx shot her guards.

"What's the matter?" Finally, Jinx seemed to realize Lux wasn't having fun.

Unfortunately, it was that exact moment that the guards started to catch up with them. Everywhere Lux looked, a different pair of patrolling guards ran toward them, swords drawn. One of them recognized her in the dark and called out to her by name, spurring the others on.

"You have to leave!" Lux insisted, yanking her arm out of Jinx's grasp. "Zap away. I-I'll do my best to clean up this mess."

"Lux..." Jinx licked her lips, her brow furrowing as she tried to put the pieces together. She had finally clocked that Lux was upset, but not why. "It's just a game, babe. You love games."

"They're not playing!" Lux gestured with one hand at the swiftly approaching guards and used the other to lightly shove at her girlfriend.

"The Pilties were never playing either," Jinx said. "That never stopped me. C'mon, lighten up. It'll be fun."

She raised her gun again. The guards were definitely in range, and almost close enough to reach Jinx with their swords. They were out of time.

"STOP IT!" The scream escaped Lux before she had a chance to think about it, and so did the burst of arcane energy.

Instantly, everyone but her and Jinx froze in their tracks, caught up in a shimmering wall of mana that she frequently used to immobilize people on the Rift. It was one of her favorite things to do; laughing while her enemies raged about being rendered defenseless. Now, though, it gave her a strong urge to throw up.

The guards were frozen physically, but they were still aware. They would still know what Lux had done to them. That she was a mage.

She'd just outed herself in probably the worst way possible.

Part of her expected Jinx to hoot and holler and try to drag her away again, but it seemed the scream had stunned her. Lux had never screamed at her before.

"What's wrong?" she asked, equal parts gentle and anxiety. "We're just playin', right?"

"No!" Lux snapped, tears burning her eyes. "No one else is playing, Jinx! I'm not playing!"

Jinx shrank back with something of a kicked-puppy expression and said, "ohh, fuck... shit, Blondie, I'm sorry. I'll take ya back upstairs, I-"

"No." Lux stepped away from Jinx's outstretched hand. Upstairs wouldn't help her now. Honestly, at this point, the safest option for her would probably be to just go with Jinx after all. Now that all these people had seen her magic, suitors would be the least of her concerns. The oppressive laws of her homeland would be turned on her in full force.

And yet... she still wasn't ready to leave.

"Go home, Jinx," she murmured.

"B-but you're cryin'." Jinx continued to reach for her, but Lux wouldn't have it.

"Please." Lux met Jinx's horrified eyes and held her gaze. "Please, go."

"Okay..." Jinx replied, small and sad. "I'll see ya later, yeah?"

"Yeah." Despite the emotional turmoil, the fear and uncertainty for her immediate future, Lux managed a smile. "Yeah. Love you."

"Love you too." In a flash of electric blue light, Jinx was gone, and not a moment too soon. Lux's spell probably wouldn't have lasted much longer.

Seeing no use in stalling, she released the guards, but refused to look at any of them. She hung her head, tears of fear and grief for the life she'd certainly just lost streaming down her face, and sank to her knees to await judgement.

------

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#lightcannon #luxanna crownguard #jinx league of legends #jinx arcane #my writing #mistakes were made #tagging fic titles now for easy searching if anyone ever wants to go back to them

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