#if he gets pruned by the end of this someone gonna catch these hands | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hunflowers · 4 years

Text

Golden

Word Count: 15.3k

Requested? I don’t remember, but you always can here :)

Mood Board

A/N: Lord, have mercy SHE’S FINALLY HERE!!!!! My baby Golden is finally out to the public and can I just say how fucking relieved I am to post it. I love her, I hope you do too <3 little warning: there are mentions of panic attacks in here, and a heart condition (that i did my best to research on) so if you’re uncomfortable, pls don’t read.

special thanks to my soul baby @stylesloveclub for being my biggest support system with this, she’s dedicated to you <3

for anyone reading this, please reblog! it really helps us writers out. okay onward friends!!! lemme know how i did and if you like it *nose boops*

Water. The ocean. Waves. The tide.

Symbolic of life, birth. Can be used to wash away even the most troubling of sins.

O’ahu, Hawaii, home to some of the best surfing destinations in the state, in the country, in the world. Also home to one of the best surfers in the state, in the country, in the world.

Y/N didn’t coin herself that. Not that she’s complaining about it, but she doesn’t surf for the title. She surfs for the freedom. She feels the most alive when her toes dig into the sand as she runs towards the warm, salt oblivion, her novelty yellow and blue surfboard tucked under her arm.

Her whole life she had been surrounded by water. When she was a baby, she always wanted a bath. When she was a toddler, she always wanted to stay in the kiddie pool. And then she got into surfing, and well, the rest is history so-to-speak. Her parents never got themselves involved in the sport professionally but more as a recreational activity. And it was even how they met, so really there was no stopping surfing from flowing through Y/N’s blood.

Her backyard was the ocean, so growing up, it was really the only thing for her to do. It’s what all the kids were doing, and Y/N was no different. She met her best friends on the beach when they were five years old, practicing the basics of surfing, like getting up on the board and finding their balance with the Earth.

Kalani and AJ, two of the best surfers Y/N will ever meet, and two of the purest souls to ever grace her life. They’re madly in love with one another. Have been for as long as they’ve been friends -- so coming up on sixteen years. Y/N is in awe of their relationship, she really is, but being a third-wheel isn’t exactly something she signed up for. Though, she kind of expected it when growing up.

They tried countless times to set her up with someone, but time and time again their matchmaking skills have failed, and Y/N is tired of them pitying her. No, she may not be in a long term relationship, but she hardly has time for a relationship anyway. Especially with competitions coming up, she needs to keep herself focused on surfing rather than some boy who will probably end up breaking her heart.

Well, that was her intention anyway.

October 27th, the first day of the best months out of the year.

And it started just the same as every other year. Y/N woke up at the crack of dawn and threw on her lucky white bathing suit before throwing an apple down her throat. Her surfboard was perched up against the back patio railing, and she swiftly tucked it under her arm as she made her way down the shore, being greeted by the luminescent sun that was swarming the sea in a shade of tangerine and lemon.

Jogging knee deep into water, Y/N sunk her hand just below the surface, swaying it back and forth, taking a deep breath as she felt the cool texture swarm her body. Exhaling slowly, she threw herself down onto her board, paddling onward into the great unknown. The familiar sound of the crashing waves causing her to flinch for a brief moment before comforting her ears as she watches the restless ocean ahead of her, a smile washing over her face as she could basically see her future ahead of her.

Today marks qualifying day, and obviously if she marks as qualified, she moves forward to the Vans Triple Crown. She’s been training all year, her body practically a prune with how much she’s been in the water. But, a minute can’t go to waste, so up until the very last second where she has to head to the north shore, she’s gonna remain in the water and build her intuition with how the day is going to go.

Last year, Y/N had to cut her time short when she was hospitalized the night before the first competition. So, she was all more determined to win the championship that is rightfully hers. Well, in the women’s division at least. Last year was ripped from her right when it was under her nose and she refuses to have a repeat of it.

After her hospitalization, everyone was convinced she’d never return to the water. Despite the ocean being her second home, everyone figured she would turn away -- avoid the embarrassment last year brought upon her. But, it only made her stronger and more determined to prove everyone wrong. No matter how frightening it really was.

Her first wave of the day had her coasting along smoothly, starting her out easy as waves progressively got bigger with the tide. When she got out into the water, the sun had just broken past the horizon line, yet by the time she left, the sun was nearly at its peak in the sky. Her skin felt raw, yet her body was running on adrenaline as she scoffed down the lunch her mom had made her before they banded into the family van and headed to Sunset Beach on the north shore.

Y/N’s heart raced in her chest, her leg bouncing subconsciously but furiously as she watched the landscape pass her by through the window. Her typically calming music wasn’t even working as she ran through multiple scenarios in her mind of what could go wrong today and how her day, her week, month, even year could be ruined.

Once outside of the van and on the beach, her parents pulled her close into a tight, warm hug, whispering words of encouragement in her ears, knowing just how important this was for her. Surfing and competitions had always been important to Y/N, but following last year’s downfall, this day was going to make or break whatever is left of her both physically and emotionally.

“Y/N!” she heard her name being called from the distance, the three of them immediately letting go of one another as they exchanged sheepish smiles.

“Y/N!” Was called out again, causing her to turn around and see Kalani running straight for the three of them, waving her arms in a drastic manner to gain her best friend’s attention. “Oh my -- I ran so fast, wow, I need to calm down,” Kalani breathed out, closing Y/N into a firm embrace.

“Save your energy for the waves, babe,” Y/N laughed, wrapping her own arms around Kalani’s frame. The two of them were never inseparable, it was kind of like they were actually glued to the hip together ever since they were children. And a lot of people were surprised they remained best friends through the years, what with both of them always competing in the same surfing competitions battling for the first place spot. And they knew this could be a strain on their relationship, but they decided ever since they were seven years old that they weren’t going to let surfing get between them. No matter what, they were always proud of each other for everything they’ve accomplished and are each other’s number one fans.

Thing is, Y/N tends to snag that first place spot a lot of the time, and Kalani always just misses her, earning her the second spot, right beneath her. But, Kalani has grown to accept that Y/N is better at the sport, and that’s nothing for her to be ashamed of. She’s managed to get a few of her own first place wins, and in her eyes, that’s good enough. She can’t live her life being jealous of her best friend because that’s not healthy, and anyway, surfing is much more Y/N’s livelihood than it is her own, so she’s fine with being second best -- despite what others may think.

Tugging her board off the top of the car, Y/N tucked it beneath her arm as she walked hand-in-hand with Kalani to wherever her family had set up camp on the beach. “Where’s AJ?” Y/N wondered, as she looked out into the water and saw no one out in it.

“The boys are starting soon, so he’s with Nav,” Kalani said, finally stopping in front of her parents and younger brother, and AJ’s older brother.

“Y/N!” They greeted, getting up from their chairs to kiss the girl on the cheek before greeting her parents. “It’s so great to see you back here,” Kalani’s mom smiled, pinching Y/N’s cheek before plopping herself back down under the sun.

They all began to catch up with one another since it’s been awhile they’ve all gotten together, all of them falling into old habits as if it hadn’t been months since they were last together. Y/N tried to engage in as much conversation as possible, but her mind tended to wander off as the guys started lining up in the water and making their way out. Her throat dried up and her palms were sweating -- and not from the heat -- as her nerves kicked in. Her memory began to cloud her vision as she stood abruptly and quickly walked away from the group, her heart picking up again.

Her breaths shortened as her mind blurred, and all she wanted was to curl up on her bed and calm her mind. She felt someone’s hand on her back, and immediately she could tell it was her father by the smell of his cologne. Once she was far enough from people, Y/N could feel tears well in her eyes as short images flashed across her eyes, cutting each inhale of breath in half -- which caused her to panic even more as she couldn’t breathe properly.

Last year ruined her, and she absolutely despises that this is considered her normal day-to-day routine now, her body shaking with fear as she feels herself collapsing from the inside, out. “Y/N, honey, can you hear me?” She thinks she hears her father say, but is undetermined with the intense white noise that’s swarming her ear drums.

“Count with me, c’mon, backwards from ten.”

But, all her mind could focus on was her body sinking lower and lower beneath the surface of water.

“Ten… Gotta count, c’mon you can do it, nine.”

“Eight,” she murmured, reaching out to grasp her dad’s shirt tight in her fist, just to make sure that he was really in front of her. She needs to be reminded that last year is her past, and that no matter how forward it is in her mind, it’s not her present anymore and she’s not drowning. “Seven.”

He took her hands and held them to his chest, “Six, keep going.”

“Fi-” she gulps, swallowing the lump in her throat, “..five.”

She makes it all the way down to zero, her body visibly relaxing and mentally as she hesitantly looks around to see no one watching the little event. “Do you want to go home?”

Y/N looks up to her father, shaking her head in response as she sniffles her nose and brushes away the one stray tear that has cascaded down her cheek. “No… I can do this.”

He cocks his head to the side and purses his lips, slowly nodding his head. Wrapping his arm around her shoulders, he turns them back in the direction, walking with her slowly as she continues to gather herself. “You don’t have to prove yourself to anyone, Y/N. Everyone knows you’re an amazing surfer.”

“I think I just need to prove it to myself,” she stated, dragging her feet through the sand like a child so it slowed their arrival time back with the group. She can only imagine that her mom had informed everyone already of what was happening, and the last thing she wants is their sorry eyes and pathetic spouts of pity that she knows she’ll wish they just kept to themselves.

Y/N knows she’s broken. She’s not the same girl everyone knew this time last year, but she doesn’t need to be reminded of it every time she steps into a room. What happened last year was serious and she understands that people are worried; But all she wants is for everyone to forget about it. Including herself. She thinks the thing that’s causing her the most trepidation now -- rather than in the morning or all year long -- is the fact she’s now back in front of a crowd again, eyes trained on her like hawks watching prey, waiting for something awful to happen again.

The only thing missing is the popcorn as they watch this free entertainment.

When they finally came back to everyone, Y/N noticed the guys had started paddling out. Everyone was talking amongst themselves, dismissing her presence as she sat herself down back in the sand, and a breath of relief escaped her lips. The tension was there, but everyone ignored it for her sake, and Y/N couldn’t be more grateful.

“Go, AJ!” Kalani cheered, pumping her fist and shouting a few hoots and hollers afterward. Dom, AJ’s brother, let out a few ear screeching whistles, the kind with the fingers in the mouth, joining in on rooting for his brother.

Watching the guys out there solidified to Y/N how real this really is, and soon her veins were pumping with excitement again instead of dread as she cheered on her best friend. He was going to qualify, they all were and they knew that, but it's always fun to get excited about the possibility of moving forward and winning the titles and earning the trophies.

All the other faces that surfed alongside AJ were mostly familiar, their names ringing bells as the announcers spoke of them, but there was one that Y/N hadn’t ever heard before. It’s the same cycle of people every year, yet this guy was fresh. And the only reason she’s curious as to who he is, is because he’s good. Like, really good.

Kalani can’t exactly remember if she’s heard of him either, shrugging to Y/N’s wonderment, “I don’t know. Maybe AJ knows.” His pink surfboard and pink wet shirt stuck out as he was a sight for sore eyes, and Y/N grew a little resentment towards him as he pulled out a few advanced maneuvers, gaining everyone’s undivided attention that used to be on AJ.

“Who is that?” Y/N’s mother questioned, looking around to see that no one knew the answer.

He was a mystery yet he radiated this vibrant energy as the guys finished their rounds, walking off with grace in his step as he laughed at something Nav -- one of the three’s friends -- had said. The girls bid their goodbyes to their families as they headed over to where the guys were before their rounds. AJ immediately came running over to them, hugging Y/N and Kalani simultaneously before giving his girlfriend a quick kiss on the lips. “You did great,” Kalani smiled, keeping her arms wrapped around his center.

“Alright, not in front of me,” Y/N grimaced, looking away from them. Immediately her eyes landed on the new surfer, still talking to Nav, and she was quick to turn back to AJ to ask who he is. “Hey, who’s the new guy?”

Looking over his shoulder, AJ saw who she was talking about before realization dawned on him. “Oh, that’s Harry. He’s from England. A really nice guy, I bet you’d like him,” he winked, causing Y/N to look at him with squinted eyes and pursed lips.

Kalani nudged his side, giving him a weird look. “What? I’m just saying.”

Then, speak of the Devil, Nav and this Harry guy came walking over, joining the three as they stood around waiting for the announcement that the girls could head out. Y/N wasn’t exactly paying attention to her surroundings as she continued to calm herself down for the impending near future. It wasn’t until Harry had stood in front of her, that she was knocked out of her own thoughts.

She looked up at him, making eye contact and briefly getting her breath caught in her throat. When he was far away, it was hard to make out his facial features or what he exactly looked like. But being right in front of him, she was merely astonished at his beauty, but more so his green eyes that reflected the perfect amount of sunlight. His wet, brunette hair rested against his forehead and seemed to be drying a bit curly.

His head tilted slightly, an amused smirk inching up his face as he watched her reaction. Something tells her he’s used to this kind of reaction. “M’Harry.”

His hand came between the two of them, waiting for her to grasp it in a firm grip. Y/N was hesitant at first but finally took his hand and shook it gently while greeting herself before dropping her hand back down to her side. “Y/N.”

This is insanely awkward. Especially because her friends are just watching the exchange silently, as if they weren’t allowed to speak while the two introduced themselves.

Harry has heard of Y/N. It’s hard for anyone involved in the surfing business to not have heard of her. Aside from the jarring news from last year, she’s an excellent surfer and her name is always spreading around like wildfire. She’s part of the reason Harry decided to delve more into the professional surfing world, because he’s been itching to meet her.

Y/N is attractive, anyone with eyes knows that, but Harry wanted to meet her only because of her expansive skills in the water. Standing in front of her, he can’t deny her undying beauty -- and if he weren’t such a gentleman he’d probably be trying to woo her this very instant. But, her looks aren’t what draws him to her, and he decides to not think with his dick for once.

Before he gets the chance to say something else to her, they get notified that the girls should start heading out for their rounds. Y/N and Kalani grab their boards and tuck them under their arms before bidding their goodbyes to the boys and scurrying off to join the rest of the girls.

“Whipped already?” Nav jokes, wrapping his arm around Harry’s shoulders and leading them to the sand where they’ll watch.

Y/N steps her toes into the water, basking in the cool feeling wrapping around her toes and surging up her body. She rolls her neck feeling it crack softly before rolling her shoulders back and taking in her umpteenth deep breath of the day. Her and Kalani looked at each other, nodding with smiles on their faces before they walked deeper in the shallow water until it reached the middle of their thighs before dropping their boards down and paddling out.

At the sight of a small wave heading toward her, Y/N dipped herself beneath the water just to wet her hair. It felt refreshing again to feel the salt coax her skin for the second time that day, as if it never left. When she greeted the air again, she could immediately feel the rays of the sun bouncing off of her skin, illuminating her in a heavenly glow, like the star she is. The spotlight is on her as she aims herself for the peak of the impending wave, nabbing the first ride of the girls’ round.

Back on the beach, her mom’s fingers were crossed, her dad’s breath was caught in his lungs, and Harry’s eyes were fixated on her figure as she jumped up on the belly of her board. Her legs kept her balance against the rough matter below her. Due to the steep wall of the wave, Y/N had to act quick and rational in order to keep control, and started off with an off-the-lip, which kept her parallel with the wave before she moved herself down and carved herself back into the energy zone.

Because it was a smaller wave, she could only go on for so long before she tipped herself off the board and fell down into the water. Everyone waited with bated breaths and kept their eyes on the area she sunk beneath the blue, before sighing in relief to see her head pop back up. Harry could see the joy wipe over everyone’s faces, replacing the worry that was once there as they hugged one another. He could tell Y/N has such a good support system, and it only urges him more to want to be a part of her life.

Of this life.

❊ ❊

“You guys did so good! We’re so proud,” Y/N’s mom gushed as she pulled her into a warm embrace -- a hug that holds more meaning than just being proud. Her mom was relieved. Grateful. Happy. She’s able to hold her daughter one more time, and that’s all she could ask for. “It’s going to be a good year for all you kids.”

Y/N felt like she was on cloud nine. She was elated, overjoyed, ecstatic, riding such a good high. Her comeback couldn’t have gone any better and she’s just so, so happy. Arriving at the beach she was nervous and anxious and was two seconds away from caving to her fears and running away. Now, as she walks arm-in-arm with her best friend away from the water for the night, she’s laughing a genuine laugh and her veins are currently pumping excitement rather than nerves.

AJ locked his arm over her shoulders, the three of them linked just like they always are as they head towards Y/N’s family van. But, instead of like other times, this time they have a tag-a-long trailing behind them. It’s sort of like a tradition where after every competition, all of the families join together and head to dinner at their usual restaurant. Nav couldn’t come because he had his own family matters to attend to but Harry was more than willing to accept the offer. He says he came to Hawaii alone and that he had nothing better to do, but his intense stare on Y/N when he accepted the offer says that’s not the only reason he was so quick to join.

It was also part of the tradition that they ride together in the van, 1) because it was the most spacious vehicle where they were able to ride together and 2) because Y/N’s parents are pretty fun to be around. They blasted the best music and made the best jokes, causing not one dull car ride. When they filed in, AJ and Kalani pushed themselves to the back seat, leaving Y/N and Harry to sit in the separate middle row chairs.

“Oh! Harry, I’m sorry, I forgot to ask. Does your family want to join us? They’re more than welcome to,” Y/N’s mom looked over her shoulder in the passenger seat.

He cleared his throat, looking up from his phone and sitting up a bit in his seat, an uncomfortable look on his face. “M’here alone, actually.”

Before anyone could ask any questions, AJ clapped Harry’s shoulder, saying, “We’re your temporary family now, man.” Despite being competitors, it seems the two of them really hit it off and AJ genuinely meant what he said about being Harry’s family. Though, everyone knows the main reason he said it was to diminish the rising tension.

“Thanks, mate,” Harry returned, fist bumping AJ. And during the little exchange, Harry caught eyes with Y/N, catching her eyes wandering around his profile and facial features, causing her to look away quickly and look out the window as if the view was something spectacular. She could hear him snicker quietly, and just when she thinks the coast is clear, she slyly looks back at him just to find out he’s already staring at her.

They really love staring at one another apparently.

When they arrived at the restaurant, Y/N and Harry were pushed to the back of the group -- not really by choice but somehow it ended up that way -- and neither of them really made any moves to break the silence between them. Y/N because she was nervous, and Harry because he wanted her to be the first to speak. And it just so happened that when they were sat at a table, they were left with the last two remaining chairs that also happened to be right next to each other. Y/N couldn’t figure out if they were doing this on purpose or it was by coincidence, but she can tell Harry doesn’t mind.

She’s not one to be nervous around guys, but there’s something about Harry and how he is so blatantly interested in her that makes her wary of talking to him. Kalani sat across the table from her, and when they made eye contact, they had a silent conversation about how Y/N should grow the balls and actually talk to him. Of course Y/N refused, which earned her a kick to the shin in retaliation, which then caused her to let out a yelp of pain and made everyone look at her confused and worried.

“Sorry, hit my knee on the table,” she brushed it off, glaring at her best friend the moment everyone turned away and continued with their own conversations.

Being as slick as possible, Kalani directed her eyes to Harry when he wasn’t looking so Y/N could see her, before turning to AJ and talking to him about something completely irrelevant. Again, Y/N and Harry were stuck in this silence. She’s not exactly sure why she can’t just start a conversation, but he’s kind of intimidating and she’s afraid of embarrassing herself, especially in front of her family.

Pursing her lips and looking down to her lap, Y/N finally turned to give Harry her attention, noticing how he was staring into space, looking completely lost in this foreign setting. “So, uh, where exactly are you from?”

Harry was quick to turn his head to Y/N, waiting and waiting and waiting for the moment she would say something. “A small town in Cheshire. Northwest of London, if that helps.”

“That’s a pretty far trip to take alone,” she nods, licking her bottom lip before gently biting down on it. As much as she thinks of herself as an independent person, she’s also an extreme homebody and could never imagine going anywhere without anyone by her side, whether it be family or friends.

He merely shrugs in response, “M’better off alone.”

Y/N cocked her head to the side while looking at him, letting his words sizzle inside her mind as she tries to overanalyze him in the mere hours she’s known him. She turned her gaze down to her hands that were intertwined in her lap, mulling over her next words to say. She doesn’t know him, but she knows the feeling of being alone. And being alone, no matter how appealing it could sound, never works out in the end. People aren’t meant to live alone. It goes against the natural order of life, and just hearing him say he prefers being alone breaks her heart just the tiniest bit. “No one’s better off alone. Everyone needs someone eventually.”

Little does she know, is that she is his someone. Or, at least that’s what Harry’s hoping. He thinks he’s crazy for being so enthralled by someone so suddenly and so strongly, but Harry’s always been one to trust his gut. His plushie but toned gut was screaming at him that this girl is just meant to be in his life. Maybe meant to be his, but he won’t push his luck. “Guess we’ll have to wait an’ see.”

They both smiled softly at one another, a small blush creeping up Y/N’s cheeks for the umpteenth time that day. “I guess we will.”

❊ ❊

It had been a little over two weeks since qualification day. Her days hadn’t changed much in regards to her schedule; Waking up at the ass crack of dawn and heading straight into the water and staying in practically until the sun was set. But, there was one slight shift in her day, and that was the now familiar face of Harry popping in everyday, either physically or in her mind.

It was safe to say Harry was quickly adapting to the three friends, merging with them seamlessly; As if he had been part of this little group since he was a child. It’s not like any of them minded, especially AJ because he was happy to get another guy around. Their friend Nav wasn’t exactly a permanent part of their little group because he belonged to everyone and no one, but Harry stuck around them like glue and AJ was so grateful.

Y/N’s grateful because now she isn’t a third-wheel.

Harry and her aren’t exactly buddy-buddy, but it definitely helps having someone else around for movie night so Y/N isn’t stuck watching her best friend’s all cuddled up together and hearing the occasional kiss they would share.

Though, Harry has made it known time and time again that he really wants to be buddy-buddy with her. And Y/N’s not exactly sure why she won’t give him what he wants, but for some reason she loses all comprehensive skills and becomes a blubbering, nervous mess around Harry whenever he brings up his interest in her. So, she’s successfully avoided all buddy-buddy conversations with him by bringing up mundane things instead. Like, why she decided to paint her nails blue, or why she absolutely despises white socks.

She thought she was doing a pretty skillful job too. But, after the first two times she avoided giving a yes or no answer to going on a date with him, Harry purposely would ask her just to hear what other obscure distractions she could come up with. He loved hearing Y/N talk, and without her knowing, he was getting to know her piece by piece, inch by inch, and he was loving it.

Though, a guy’s ego can only take so many rejections before he gives up completely. And just when he was ready to call it quits and accept that she wasn’t interested in him like he was her, the unexpected happened.

Y/N agreed to a date.

Well, kind of.

It was time for the Hawaiian Pro. The official first event of the Vans Triple Crown. It was taking place at Ali’i Beach Park in Hale’iwa, one of the most intense surfing spots filled with waves of many different faces. Of course, this is when Y/N’s nerves really started to kick in. Qualification day isn’t anywhere near as filled with people as the actual events are, and her nerves have seemed to kick it into high gear. It doesn’t help that the Hawaiian Pro is when her life changed a year ago. She could hear people whispering about her, wondering if she’s going to wipe out again or if this time she’ll stay under the water. Her mind was already frenzied enough, but nothing completes the cycle like a panic attack and the embarrassment of many on-goers witnessing said panic attack.

She almost backed out. How is she meant to be the best when her body is afraid of taking its final breath? The tide was high and the waves showed no mercy. How is she meant to challenge that? How is she meant to control the water beneath her when she can’t even control her own thoughts?

It was getting to be too much for her. This entire time leading up to the Triple Crown she’s denied her fear and her anxiety, telling herself she’ll get over it. She’s been doing good all year, so what makes now any different? But it is very different. The calm atmosphere of her backyard is no match for the rambunctious setting of the Triple Crown. And she’s a fool for thinking differently.

So, she was panicking.

Y/N couldn’t even get up from her seat in her parent’s van because she was so shaky. Her father held her close, easing her back to reality and away from her tortuous mind. Of course, he offered to drive them back home and away from the competition, telling her again that she didn’t have to prove herself to anyone. But, she declined again. Because she needed to prove it to herself. She’s stronger than her mind lets on, and she needs to make sure she knows that.

When she slid off her board and sank her toes back into the warm sand after a very successful first round, landing her in the lead spot, she was finally able to breathe again.

People congratulated her on her comeback, astonished to see her doing better than ever before. Her parents embraced her with love and elation, so beyond happy to see her laughing and smiling and enjoying herself now that she’s progressing forward. Kalani of course is her number one supporter, practically jumping on her and screaming in her ear about how happy she is for her best friend.

Everyone was making their rounds hugging Y/N, and then it was Harry’s turn. They didn’t exactly embrace like the rest of them had, but he threw his arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, squeezing her to him softly before looking down at her and saying, “Absolutely wicked, love. Gotta teach me some of y’fancy moves.”

“You sure? They’re really only meant for the pros,” she teased, biting at her bottom lip to conceal her laughter as he scoffed.

“”Ey, no one likes a narcissist,” he shoved her shoulder softly, rolling his eyes as her laughter rang through his ears. “But, whaddya say? M’gonna need a good teacher if I wanna make it to the big leagues.”

Y/N simply shrugs without really thinking much into it, “Sure.” Her mind didn’t exactly process what she had agreed to until later that night, before she dozed off into her temporary slumber. Her eyes shot open and her body sat upright as an over dramatic gasp was inhaled into her lungs. Her mind had been all over the place with the competition that she didn’t realize that she had agreed to being alone with Harry for the first time since they'd met. Immediately she texted and called Kalani, to which she got laughed at in return.

“Kalani, this isn’t a laughing matter!”

A few miles away, Harry was snuggled into his bedsheets, a bright smile stretched across his face as he reveled in the idea that he finally was going to be alone with Y/N since the first time they’d met. His heart was jumping and his stomach was fluttering as he envisioned her pretty face behind his eyelids before he drifted off into his dream with her.

“It so is! C’mon, Y/N, what have you got to lose? You have the same interests, he’s funny, he’s hot, and he clearly is into you. Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.”

Enjoy something outside of surfing for once.

That’s the thought that stuck in her mind, lingering around as she finally fell asleep, and then when she woke up, and when she was eating breakfast; And doing her chores; And hanging out with Kalani; And eating dinner; And then falling asleep again. Y/N didn’t even realize she had spent so much of her past year focusing on her career and health that she hasn’t done much of anything else.

She’s so grateful to be alive, but she’s hardly given herself the chance to live again.

Before her accident, she was always up for adventure and was always the life of any party. After her accident, she hasn’t even been to a party. She hasn’t been in a relationship in years, she hasn’t gone on a date in a long time, and she can’t even remember the last time she’s had sex or kissed a guy. She’s been so focused on her redemption, that she can’t remember the last time she was genuinely happy.

Going on this date, but also not a date -- but also clearly a date -- with Harry just may provide her with that. And she owes it to herself, to her past self, that her accident isn’t going to shape her life anymore.

Plus, she really enjoys Harry’s company. And even if she doesn’t show it so bluntly like him, she really likes him too.

The next day, Y/N and Kalani had gone out shopping, enjoying a nice girls day out. They had bought a few new varieties of swimsuits (as if they didn’t have enough) and a few other types of clothes, got some lunch, and even found time to watch a movie. And they did all of this right up until the moment Y/N decided it was time to text Harry.

She wasn’t sure how to go about this, because she’s never really asked anyone on a date before, or followed up with plans (?) about a date. Kalani kept urging her to just rip the bandaid off and to get it over with, saying something along the lines of, “You’re not getting any younger. Plus, I think he’d slip right off his board at the sight of you in that new yellow suit you got.” It was just a simple bikini, but it showcased the majority of her skin that essentially left little to the imagination.

But, the thing is, whenever Y/N gets into the water around people, she can’t help but cover her torso with a wet-shirt, insecure of the imperfections that lined her skin. It’s rare she can bear to look at her skin, so she only assumes no one else would want to either. So, she’s not so sure he’ll fall off his board at the sight of her, but the thought is nice.

Y/N pulled out her phone and hovered over his contact for a good amount of time before Kalani grew impatient and snatched the phone from her friend’s hand. They wrestled around with each other to try and gain custody of the phone, but finally in the end Y/N was able to hold her phone tight in her hands before declaring, “Okay! Okay! I’m texting, I’m going.”

Kalani peaked over Y/N’s shoulder as she watched her type the allusive message to Harry, a proud smile carving over her lips as she watched her break down a barrier she had subconsciously put up. It isn’t by any means important to be in a relationship or to have a boyfriend, but Kalani knows deep down that Y/N was wishing to have that special connection only a relationship could provide -- a connection outside of the realm of friendships.

“There,” Y/N huffed, shoving the screen of her phone in her best friend’s face.

hii, if you’re still up to learn from a true professional, I’m available tonight :)

It wasn’t even ten seconds later that she got a reply.

Shit, I’ll be your best student, babe. I know a perfect spot, I’ll be at yours in an hour.

It was kind of amusing to Y/N that he said he knows a perfect spot, as if she hadn’t been living on this island all her life and practically knows it like that back of her hand. But, that miniscule thought was pushed to the very depths of her mind as panic coursed through her as she realized what she was getting herself into. She’s going on a date, not a date, but also a date with Harry, and a small hour wasn’t enough time to gain her composure.

Fuck.

❊ ❊

It’s no surprise to Y/N when Harry shows up to her house a minute early. She’s half convinced that he had been waiting outside of her house for the past fifteen minutes until he finally stepped up on to the porch of her house, knocking rapidly on the door. It wasn’t an emergent knock that caused some sort of panic, but it was a frantic knock that screamed ‘let’s get the show on the road.’

When she opened the door, both of their breaths were robbed from their lungs. Y/N essentially looked like she always did but something about her glowed differently to Harry; maybe it was because she’s his for the night. For his eyes only. Just him and her. He was awestruck.

Harry essentially looked like he always did but something about him radiated differently to Y/N. The same little smirk was nestled in its usual spot, but this one held a different meaning. It looked the same, but maybe it was different because it was just her and him tonight. He’s hers for the night. For her eyes only. Y/N was nervous.

Y/N left her board out on her porch so she wouldn’t have to walk around back when he got here, but she was silently wishing she didn’t so she’d get just a couple more seconds to get herself together. She just kept chanting, “It’s not a date!” in her head, in hopes it would make her feel better.

It didn’t.

Harry saw her board and tucked it under his left arm as he threw his right one over her shoulders guiding her his mode of transportation. It also wasn’t a surprise to Y/N to see Harry rolling up in a light yellow Jeep; the top down and the doors off, typical of any surfer dude, no matter where they originate.

“Her name’s Betty,” he smiled, walking around the back and giving her a quick tap on her rear end before stepping up to straddle Y/N’s board safely and securely.

Sliding through the empty passenger door to take her seat, Y/N was greeted by a familiar smell, a smell she could only associate with Harry. And even if she could never admit it, she loved it a lot. It was mouth-watering and intoxicating, and simply put, it was Harry. Even with the open atmosphere of the car, it was still drenched in this specific smell, and Y/N can’t help but giggle at the image of Harry spritzing whatever cologne into the car before arriving at her house.

A few moments later, Harry slid into the driver side, placing the sunglasses that were sitting on the dash over his eyes, shoving the key into the ignition and starting them on their journey to whatever beach he had envisioned. On the ride there, over the course of a few right turns and lefts and different exits on the highway, Y/N surprisingly had no idea where they were going. Did she think maybe he was gonna murder her? A bit. But, she felt comfortable around Harry. So, she felt it in her gut that she was going to come out alive from this… event.

When they got to the beach, it was about thirty minutes from Y/N’s house, and she had no idea where they were. They had to walk a short path to meet sand and ocean, but once they made it past the clearing, Y/N was in awe of the site ahead of her. People could think that seeing the ocean every day ruins the peaceful and magical aura surrounding it. But, Y/N never gets sick of greeting it. The sun was beginning to set, and the water was glowing with a yellow-pink hue by the horizon that blended into a bright blue by the shore. The cliff sides around them guarded the little alcove, feeding into the tranquil atmosphere.

“How did you find this place?” Y/N wondered as she kicked off her sandals, and shimmied her shorts down her legs before kicking them over her sandals. The yellow bottom of her bikini was visible, and she turned her head just as Harry took a large gulp at the sight of her in front of him; Just for him. Her blue wet-shirt stayed on though.

It piqued Harry’s interest as to why she never took off her shirt. He understood for the competitions, but even when it was just a casual outing, just him and her, or them and their friends, she always kept it on. It wasn’t his place to ask, but he wished she would’ve broken this barrier down just this once. Just for him. “Tha’s a secret for me to know and you to maybe find out.”

Y/N let out a giggle - why? she didn’t know - and turned her attention back to the boy that brought her here, her eyes nearly popping out of her head as she caught Harry taking off his white t-shirt, now only clad in his little pink shorts next to his little pink board. His skin looked extra dewy, and his tattoos seemed to glint under the setting sun. Before she could devour him with her eyes, she picked up her board and took it with her, running down to the water and shouting, “C’mon slow-poke, gotta get in the water before the sun sets!”

It wasn’t a surprise to Y/N that this didn’t keep on track of a teaching lesson. Harry doesn’t need to be taught, he’s amazing on his own. He pulled off his own tricks that Y/N didn’t even know the name of, and she was asking him to let her in on his little secrets. He locked his lips in return, throwing the imaginary key somewhere over his shoulder, “Y’think I’m g’na tell you? I’m far too narcissistic to let you beat me at my own game.”

“Who said I’m gonna beat you?”

“Have you met you?”

There’s a reason Y/N’s name circulates throughout people’s brains, why her name is common in any Hawaiian household, why Harry was itching to meet her. She’s good at what she does. Insanely good that it’s kind of concerning. Not everyone can come back from a life-altering experience, but Y/N took those stereotypes and crushed them beneath the tail of her infamous yellow surfboard. She reveled in the doubts and came back stronger than ever. Of course she would beat him at his own game. She’s the only one who could.

There wasn’t any telling how long they had been riding wave after wave, in the water with no one else but just each other. But, the sun almost halfway past the horizon line was a good giveaway. They were probably nearing the two hour mark, and they knew they couldn’t stay out here all night, but Jesus, how they wished they could. Y/N wasn’t expecting to be so content, thinking this would be some strange, awkward, uncomfortable time they would want to forget about the moment they left each other’s sides.

It’s the opposite.

Just for him. Just for her.

They both laid on their boards, limbs sprawled out and dangling into the water as their bodies shut down in exhaustion. Y/N can’t remember the last time she went so long without taking at least a ten minute break. Her body was most definitely not used to it as she felt her back mold into her little yellow board, accepting the relaxation. When she finally opened her eyes back up, she turned her head to the side, admiring Harry’s profile as his arms were pulled over his head, the skin of his torso being stretched, which also stretched the ink that adorned him.

Y/N got lost in the mirage that is Harry, that she didn’t even realize he had turned his head and caught her ogling. It wasn’t until he cleared his throat that her eyes snapped to his, heat traveling up through her body and rushing to her cheeks. “M’eyes are up here, love.”

“Uh- right. Yeah, I know.”

“Cool. Hey d’y’wanna play twenty questions?” He asked, sitting up to straddle his board and paddling himself around so he was facing her.

Y/N squinted her eyes, “Are we children?”

“I mean, I guess not. Doesn’t stop my five year old humor though,” he smiled, kicking his foot up to splash her with an inkling of water as his childlike, petty comeback. “You ask first.”

Y/N pushed her hand through the water to spray him in an ounce of sea salt before turning her head back to the sky, contemplating her first question. “Mm… favorite color?” She already knew the answer.

“And you asked me if we’re children? C’mon, darling, know you wanna know more than tha’. Pink. What was your first impression of me?” He wiggled his eyebrows, even though she couldn’t see his face. This has been one of those things that’s been nagging at the back of his mind ever since they first met. Their first encounter wasn’t awkward per-se, but the fleeting moment of introduction wasn’t exactly one worth remembering either. But, Harry was always going to remember it. And depending on Y/N’s answer, he hopes she will too.

At this, she turned her head back to Harry, hand covering her eyes as the sun glared at them over the reflective water. It was a sight to behold, seeing Harry glow in the golden hour light. “Intimidating. But, also unique,” she began, moving to sit herself up and paddle her board around so she was now facing him. “You remind me of a singular cloud in an otherwise clear sky. You’re not meant to be there, yet you’re not out of place.”

Harry sat for a moment, staring. Completely in awe. Head over heels. Never would’ve guessed those words to be the ones tumbling from her lips. It was the way she didn’t hesitate in her sentence, as if those words had been formulated a while ago and just now was she able to spew it from her wordbank. Just for him. “Fuck, that was beautiful. Your turn.”

“Do you really think you’re better off alone?”

Harry pursed his lips, looking off into the distance for a brief moment before shrugging, “I do. But, I don’t. If it comes down to going back to my family and friends from home or being alone, I’ll choose being alone.” And he wanted to sprinkle in the little bonus that he doesn’t feel alone when he’s around her, but something tells him that’ll just turn her away. “What’re you so afraid of?”

It’s a brash question Y/N wasn’t expecting to be thrown at her so suddenly. She has a mix of answers, and there’s a specific one flashing in her mind like a bright, neon yellow sign, but she’s not certain how comfortable she is with telling him yet. Though, she notices that whatever question she could throw his way, he’d answer it truthfully, not scared of opening himself up, just for her. She wants to be brave like that, and maybe she can be, but she’s not sure how.

It comes as a surprise to her when she does say, “I’m scared of going through everything that happened last year all over again. Everyone’s afraid of dying, or at least most people are, but experiencing death… there’s really no coming back from that. ”

“Experiencing it?” He looks at her wide-eyed.

“What, you haven’t heard of what happened last year?” She looks at him, eyebrows scrunched.

“Only know you had some accident. No offense, but I didn’t really bother myself with reading the fine print,” he shrugs, running his pruney fingers through his salted hair. He didn’t know if he wanted to read it, especially not with the sudden news that apparently this very alive, lively girl in front of him… died? He doesn’t think he could stomach reading about that.

Y/N hasn’t met a single person who hasn’t heard about what happened to her. Or at least the details of it. In reality she doubts anyone outside of Hawaii knows of her existence, but in her world it was the biggest news to affect the state in a while -- aside from, like, actual serious matters, her accident was up there on the news.

She evades his second question though, not wanting to cough up the traumatic details of her past; not yet at least. “Well, it’s my turn anyway. Why surfing?”

“I could just look it up, but I get it; you’ll tell me when you’re ready,” he gave her a playful look, pursing his lips while giving her a pointed stare. “It’s different. England isn’t known for surfing. It’s known for rain and football. But, with every possible detail of m’life, I wanted to make sure I was different. My dad wanted me to become a professional footy player, so I said no. M’mum wanted me to go and get a degree and a real job. I didn’t want that. So, I turned to surfing,” he swung his arms around, gesturing to the vast sea and the board below him.

“Plus, it’s given me an excuse to leave home and come here. And y’know, so I could meet you.”

Y/N felt a small blush creep up her skin again, her eyes shooting down to her lap and her feet that were distorted under the water. Harry’s infatuation with the girl isn’t a secret, but anytime he purposely makes it known, it’s like a little secret that she’s unsure if she’s supposed to know or not. “Meet me?”

Harry kicked his foot up again so water would splash at her. “Uh-uh, my turn,” he laughed, shaking his head. He knew she thought she was slick at the way she bit her lip, containing her laughter. If she wants to play by the rules of the nonsensical game, then so will he. “Sunrise or sunset?”

“Sunset. Favorite song?” She wanted to reel back from the serious talk for a moment.

“Too many to choose from. Favorite movie?” He wanted to know every nitty-gritty detail about her.

She pondered for a moment, “Mamma Mia.”

“No shit! Me too!” His mouth dropped in shock, his hand flying up to his chest.

“Really?”

“No,” he shook his head, immediately blocking the massive splash he sensed coming.

Y/N rolled her eyes, huffing at him whilst crossing her arms over her torso, “Are you always so insufferable?”

“S’my middle name, babe. You hungry?” He laid himself down on his board on his belly, paddling himself to face the beach, ready to make a head start for the beach. Y/N hummed a response, following in suit and settling her stomach against the belly of the board and pushing herself to land. “Cool, let’s go get something to eat then I’ll take you home.”

Y/N’s legs felt weak, yet appreciative back on the sand. It felt like she was walking on Jell-O as she went to pick up her towel and clothes. Looking down to her shirt, she knew it was out of the question to let him see her take it off. And she could turn her back so he wouldn’t see her front -- whether or not it’s clad in a bikini top -- but even then her heart raced at the thought. She held her t-shirt in her hands and thought it over for a moment before blurting, “Could you turn around please?”

Harry looked up from checking his phone quickly, tilting his head in confusion before looking down to the shirt in her hands. The dots are connected and the bright neon pink sign in his head is telling him to listen to her, and not to question it. So, he doesn’t. Just for her. It’s still unbeknownst to Harry why she never takes her shirt off, but he knows better than to think with his dick, and accepts her wishes, turning his back to her.

Y/N lets out a small breath of relief, grateful he didn’t question her on it. She’s quick to rip off her shirt and pat dry her wet skin before hastily throwing on her dry one, giving Harry the OK to turn back around.

“Sorry, I just… I’m not comfortable with anyone seeing my, uh, my scar,” she mumbles, nervously moving her hair from one shoulder over to the other. Harry shrugs in response, picking his board up from the ground and wrapping his arm around her shoulder as they began their walk back to his car.

“You don’ have to explain yourself to me, babe,” he smiled down at her, squeezing her to his side softly.

Y/N looked up at him, and she’s sure that if she could see herself right now, her eyes would be twinkling in delight, with adoration. Just for him. “Thank you.”

They didn’t say anything else for a few minutes, walking the distance to his lonesome Jeep in peace. The silence gave Y/N time to think and to mull over all of the gushy feelings she was feeling inside about the guy beside her. She had no reason not to like him, realizing it was only fear that was pushing her away. But, this night displayed a soft side to Harry that she fell head over heels for. His smooth, easy-going approach to life, mixed in with respect for her, and a hint of witty humor was enough to tell her how she truly feels about him. And she’s scared, not because she’s afraid, but because she’s not.

Y/N can find herself easily opening up to Harry quicker than she has anyone else because she trusts him. She can just tell he’s got nothing to hide, so in-turn she wants to be the same. She doesn’t want to cower away, but revel in happiness. Because she deserves it.

Harry quickly secured the boards back into their previous spots before sliding into the driver side and whisking them away from their little getaway. The wind swept through their hair and chilled their still slightly wet skin, causing goosebumps to trail up Y/N’s arm as chills raked through her body. This time around in the car they both were more laid back, not singing along to the songs playing on the radio but rather just listening and taking in the blissful atmosphere they’ve created.

There’s been one question dancing across her mind though ever since he brought up the little game of twenty questions. It was the first one to pop up in her mind when she was thinking of something juicy to ask. She didn’t want to ask it though, in fear of what his answer would be. But, now she’s not afraid. She’s curious though.

“Is this a date?” She queried, turning the volume of the radio down a bit so he could hear her and vice versa.

Harry glanced at her through his peripheral, one eyebrow cocking up on his forehead, “Is the sky blue?”

“I mean, right now it’s like orange-blue,” she retorted, looking at the newly sun-ridden sky that blended shades of orange into the usual night blue.

“Brainiac. There’s your answer. It’s however you want to look at it,” he digressed, reaching over to pat her thigh - in more of a friendly manner rather than sensual.

She appreciated his answer, absolutely adoring the fact that he wasn’t putting pressure on her about anything. It was hard to comprehend just how nice he truly is, and how someone could be so perfect. She couldn’t see a flaw in his looks or his personality or his morals, and all she could wonder was how someone like him could possibly like someone like her. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone like you, Harry.”

He side glanced at her again, this time raising both of his eyebrows in puzzlement, “I’ll take tha’ as a good thing?”

“It’s good. It’s… it’s a good thing.”

❊ ❊

The two of them had discussed where they wanted to go, neither of them wanting to decide and going back and forth with one another, saying, “No, you decide,” “No you.”

Y/N was never good at decisions, especially mundane ones like where to eat. She always lets Kalani decide because she could eat anything, and it’s her friend that’s the picky one. But, Harry is the same way. Whatever is put in front of him, he could probably eat (except for pickles, he absolutely hates pickles).

They settled for pizza. And it was going to be Harry’s first time trying a slice of Hawaiian.

Y/N hates Hawaiian slices, finding the sweetness of the pineapple and the savor of the ham unsettling atop her pizza. It sends her taste buds into shock and her mind into a meltdown. But, she insisted he try it, because how could someone be in Hawaii and not try its state-named slice?

They sat at their little table in the corner of the restaurant that was alongside a window, giggling to themselves as they played a little game of eye-spy, waiting for their food. For some odd reason, Harry was really good at this game, always picking the hardest of objects to point out, always stumping a frustrated Y/N.

“You’re cheating.”

“How the fuck am I cheating?”

“Dunno, you just are.”

And in retaliation to her accusation, Harry pointed to her shirt, stating she got a little soda on it, causing her to look down to her chest and see nothing but finger as he flicked her nose. “Too easy. Sore loser.”

Y/N huffed, sticking her tongue out at him. The playful banter between them was the best part of their days lately. Before Y/N even realized her feelings for Harry, she always looked forward to what they would bicker about -- in a friendly matter of course. Now, she constitutes that to just wanting to see him because she really enjoys his company, and him.

It’s been a long time since she’s felt this way about anyone, and she’s sort of glad she gets to feel this way about Harry. He’s an enigma, but a good one. She’s totally transfixed by him and she never wants this euphoria to end. He radiates this bright and bubbly energy that lifts her mood whenever she’s around him, and she’s afraid of losing that. But, she chooses not to dwell on the what-if, instead completely basking in the present and his gooey aura of happiness.

When the food finally came out, they both were quick to stuff their faces, their stomachs practically turning inside-out from how hungry they were. It came to no surprise to Harry that he was absolutely in love with this Hawaiian slice, already looking forward to ordering two more.

Y/N looked at him a tad worried. He was scoffing down three slices as if there were no tomorrow, all within a matter of two minutes. She was slightly worried he was going to reach over and take her dinner, because that’s how hungry he seemed to be. But, he should know better than to get between Y/N and her food. Like the one time he tried to take some of her fries, to which she punched him in the shoulder and then took them back.

“Hey, y’gonna eat that?” He points to her not yet touched slice of pizza, earning a glare that could kill in response. “Cool, you are, just making sure. Can’t let precious food go t’waste. It’s my turn for a question right?”

Y/N thinks back for a second to determine if he’s right or not, remembering she did ask a question last. She nodded her head before biting into her little piece of heaven.

“Was it hard getting back in the water?”

She brought her napkin up to her mouth to wipe away the drop of sauce she felt on her cheek, mulling over her answer. “Kinda. I knew I had to eventually because it’s all I know, it was just a matter of when. My parents were terrified, and I mean I was too but I can’t let that dictate my future. I love surfing and nothing is going to take that away from me.”

Not even something as horrifying as death could take her away from her true love. Not until she’s truly six-feet under, riding silver waves in the silver palace.

“Do you think you’re going to stay here? In Hawaii?” Y/N wondered, taking a sip of her Coke.

“Got nowhere else to be,” he shrugged, mindlessly tapping his fingers on the table in an arrhythmic pattern. “Home is where the heart is, right? Well, think mine’s here right now.” Across from her. Just for her.

Home is where the heart is.

“Does it count if my heart isn’t mine?”

Last year, Y/N was going about her day like she always did. She was fine, in tip-top shape just like she had been for the past twenty years of her life. The bright sun was out and shining over all of the surfers and onlookers, and it seemed just like every other regular day. She was paddling out into the water, and the perfect, golden first wave was approaching her. She pushed herself up onto her feet, balancing her body, in tune with the wave, executing a nearly perfect opener. Then, she felt her chest tighten and her body suddenly felt weak. Breathing rapidly grew difficult, causing her to instantly panic. She fell off her board, plummeting into the water, trying to gasp for air but choking on the sea that swimmed down her throat.

Feeling herself sink as her chest was on fire was the last she remembered. The baby blue sky blended into black and that was it. Her life was over.

Kalani was the one who went in after her, screaming for help as her best friend was blue in the face and not moving.

Y/N suffered a heart attack. Apparently, she had a condition called hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, that went unnoticed all her life. On this day, her heart had thickened extensively, making it difficult to pump blood to the rest of her body. The strain on her heart caused it to give out, right when she was feeling the high of riding a solid wave. She was pronounced dead for a total of forty-five seconds before EMT could revive her. Supposedly she’s lucky to be alive, because if not treated basically instantly, there’s a slim chance of survival. But, she was able to stick it out until the hospital.

Her heart was in brutal shape, so she was sent to the top of a donor waiting list. Y/N and her family are forever grateful for the team of doctors and nurses that stuck by her side, knowing she wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for them. Or her sheer luck.

Y/N felt a little crazy for feeling so comfortable spilling all of this information so suddenly to Harry, but at the same time she didn’t. And the best part about it is that none of it seems to freak Harry out. Nothing about who she is or how she is scares him. And that’s what makes her feel so comfortable. “My scar, it’s from a heart transplant. I had a heart condition all my life apparently. Then suddenly one day, it couldn’t handle it anymore, so it gave out. A girl named Shauna’s heart is keeping me alive right now.”

Harry didn’t blink for a whole minute.

He opened and closed his mouth like a fish out of water, trying to come up with something, anything to say to the girl across from him. But, he had nothing. He didn’t know what to say.

His silence was a little concerning to Y/N, making her wish she could just be swallowed whole by the ground below her. Was it too soon to drop the HT bomb? He was bound to find out eventually, and she figured it was best to rip the bandaid off on her own time rather than someone else telling him or him looking it up on Google.

She’s kicking herself over it.

Harry cleared his throat, taking a sip of his water before licking his lips and leaning back in his chair. “I’m sorry you had to go through that.”

Y/N merely shrugged, “Don’t be. Shit happens. Who knows, if it never happened we may not be here now.”

Harry raised his eyebrows, his signature small smirk back on his face in its usual spot. He raised his glass, leaning it forward a bit toward her, stating, “Cheers to that, babe.” She raised her own glass and clinked it against his, a smile on her lips as she sucked up the remaining bit of her soda through her straw. She’s happy he didn’t turn and run away.

Cheers to that, babe.

By the time they both filled their guts to the point of feeling overstuffed, mindlessly chatting and spending time together, it was already past ten o’clock. The time had passed them by like it was nothing, but they weren’t necessarily complaining. The older couple next to them were though. Y/N had to pull Harry out of the restaurant before he bit the woman’s head off for how rude she was. That’s when they knew it was time to skedaddle.

Then they just drove around for another hour before Harry figured it was time to bring her home, much to his dismay. But, when her head lolled against the passenger seat headrest and her eyes would softly shut in exhaustion. He wanted desperately to reach over and tuck the loose strand of hair that fell out of her ponytail, behind her ear. He wanted to reach over and place his hand on her thigh as they drove down the highway, softly squeezing her skin before teasingly inching up towards her hidden gem.

Is it too soon to be in love?

It was like a slap in the face when Harry parked in front of her house. Reality stuck its nose into their little wonderland bubble, and unfortunately, they couldn’t push it back out.

Harry hopped out of his seat, unfastening her board from the trunk and tucking it under his arm as they walked side-by-side to her front door. He gently placed it down where he had initially found it earlier on, tucking his lips into his mouth as he stuck his hands in his pockets.

“I uh… I guess this is it. I had a really ni-”

“I’ve got one more question before you leave me,” he interrupted her little speech, stepping impossibly closer to her, barricading her between him and the banister on her porch. It wasn’t hard to notice the long stares at her shiny lips that glinted in the dull yellow glow of the light by the door. He purposely took extra time to rake over the features of her face before finally meeting her eyes.

Y/N swallowed nothing but air as she softly bit at her bottom lip, “Yeah?”

She already knew his question.

“Can I kiss you?”

He already knew her answer.

Y/N slyly looked at him, bringing her hands up, a bit hesitant to rest on his shoulders. “I thought this wasn’t a date.”

“Sky’s blue.” Y/N looks up at the sky and notices it’s dark blue hue, twinkling stars layers on top, surrounding the fullest, brightest moon. It was a beautiful sky, perfect to share a first kiss under.

He leaned forward, resting his forehead against hers as his hands came up to her hips. Her eyes fluttered shut, waiting for the climactic moment to overcome them, the air of the night chilling up her spine.

But, then she felt fiery, red hot as their lips locked together in a soft kiss. It was as soft as they felt towards one another. This giddy, slow paced, admiring kiss that had their insides melting but their hearts pounding. This kiss is exactly how Y/N images Harry. A pale yellow that’s not harsh on the eyes, that resonates happiness. Harry imagines it as a hot pink, one that takes his breath away and captures his mind.

It wasn’t long before it turned heated, Harry’s tongue sweeping into her mouth, and one of his hands travelling further south to grab hold of the flesh of her behind. Y/N let out a soft moan into his mouth as her hands tangled into his mound of curls, tugging softly on his roots.

Then the disturbing image of either one of her parents opening the front door at any moment flashed across her eyes, causing her to pull back, kissing his bottom lip softly before trailing her thumb over the swollen skin and opening her eyes to look into his gaudy, green ones.

The sounds of their breaths mingled together as tired smiles adorned their faces, little giggles leaving each of their mouths as they basked in what just happened. All Harry could think was, ‘It’s about damn time.’ All Y/N could think was, ‘Why did I ever push him away?’

“My turn,” she spoke after a few moments, standing up straighter and fixing her shirt around her body. “Pick me up tomorrow?”

A wide, shit-eating grin spread out across Harry’s face as he ran his hand through his mangled curls. “Sunrise. If y’not in this exact spot in the morning, m’knocking the door down and dragging you out by y’hair.” He hopped down off the porch, completely skipping the steps as the adrenaline of their first kiss kicked into his system.

“Sunrise,” she agreed.

He hopped back into the driver’s side of his Jeep, throwing his hand up in a goodbye wave as he sped away, already counting down the seconds until he would see his golden ray of bright and bubbly sunshine again. He’s not so sure if he’ll be able to fall asleep.

Y/N didn’t have that same problem. The moment she landed on her bed, her eyes shut faster than the speed of light, her last conscious thought being of Harry. Her smile never leaving her face.

❊ ❊

Meeting at sunrise had become part of their routine. Not always to surf, but just to be together. Sometimes they surfed at their little alcove, other times they would watch the sun from her backyard, snuggled up in blankets on the beach. Or, they would surf, get breakfast, then fall back asleep in his bed until a more decent hour of morning.

But, their day always began at sunrise. It would be the equivalent to say that it also ended at sunset, but sunset was always too soon to part ways.

This wasn’t an everyday occurrence, mostly at random. Except for Sundays. Sundays are specifically their day, as per request of Harry. How could he be in love with a girl that coined yellow as her color, that had a smile as bright as the huge burning star, that claimed golden hour was prime sun time, and not deem Sunday as their day? He didn’t put any second thought into it.

Despite their sort of fast paced first date, they’ve been taking things slow, truly getting used to the feel of one another over the course of the next couple of months. It wasn’t until a month later that Harry popped the question, officially making Y/N his forever buddy-buddy. Well, not necessarily forever, but they both know it’s basically forever.

Harry never wants to be alone again.

It wasn’t until the night after they became official that Y/N finally took her shirt off in front of him. She was going through one of her episodes, and Harry was the only one around who could help her. He managed to calm her down and bring her inside her house - that was empty because her parents had gone out for the night - and get her to the bathroom so she could take a shower.

Initially, he was going to let her get in by herself, knowing her boundaries in regards to her body and not seeing it. But, when he saw how worn down she looked, he whispered words of reassurance in her ear, asking her permission to help get her in the shower. He wasn’t thinking with his dick, he just wanted to help the girl that didn’t know how to help herself.

Y/N looked him in the eyes, nibbling softly on her bottom lip before averting her attention to her chest for a few moments. She trusts him, and if they’re bound to work out, she needs him to be comfortable with seeing all aspects of her both mentally and physically. Which includes her scar.

So, she nods her head in agreement.

She lifted her arms and allowed him to remove her shirt, immediately feeling self-conscious. She couldn’t look him in the eyes as she stepped out of her shorts and underwear, going into the shower to avoid any lingering stares. Harry was quick to follow behind her, shutting the curtain after him. That’s when Y/N turned around and completely broke down, the tears that have been building behind her eyes finally pouring out. Harry wrapped her in his arms, letting her cry her eyes out for however long she needed.

When she stopped, Harry washed her hair, washed her body, washed away her bad thoughts, then washed himself as fast as he could so he could get her into her bed for the night. She snuggled up to his side, enjoying the warmness of his body that contrasted her cool ones.

That night when her parents came home, they spotted Harry’s Jeep in front of their house. Though when the house was eerily quiet, and found the door to her bedroom slightly ajar, they peeked inside and saw the two of them fast asleep. Parents usually would get angry at the sight of their child in bed with someone of a different gender, but not Y/N’s parents.

Over the last two months, they saw their daughter break back out of her shell, slowly returning to her former self, and all because of Harry. They saw how happy she became whenever he was around, or they’d overheard happy she was when just talking about him to Kalani. How could they ever get angry at the fact that Y/N was happy?

With the blossoming of their relationship taking place at the same time as the Vans Triple Crown, word got around fast and soon enough they were the star couple leading the ranks in their respective divisions. The world -- or really the surfing world, because no one really pays attention to professional surfers, was in awe of them. They were the hype of the news, of the town, of the state. Rightfully so, because they’re awfully cute.

It came as no surprise to everyone when the two were crowned the champions. The press went wild with this one, stating there was some scam happening behind the scenes, because what were the odds that this new star couple could both win? Or, how could Harry, a newbie, shoot his way up to the top in just one year? Or, how could Y/N dominate with her physical ailments?

There wasn’t a hoax and there wasn’t any cheating. They both were just that good.

The day of the final competition, they may have worked just a little harder to land the championship title. Harry had picked Y/N up and they traveled to their secret hideaway bright and early in the morning. After being out at a party the night before, the two were in no shape to get in the water already, opting to snooze under the shade of a cliff on the beach for a little while.

They didn’t sleep for very long before they got wrapped up in one another, indulging in a morning session of intimate love. They slept for maybe an hour before Y/N was ready to get her swim on, but Harry was the biggest sack of lazy mush that morning. He didn’t want to get up for nothing. He was laying down on his surfboard, completely comfortable under the shade. Y/N tried tugging on his arms to get him up, but he wouldn’t budge, a half-sleepy and dazed smile on his lips.

At one point he tugged her back, causing her to land on his lap, legs straddling his hips as her face crashed into his chest. His arms wrapped around her back, securing him to her as he said, “See? Isn’t this so much better than physical activity?”

“C’mon tubby, we got shit to do,” Y/N giggled, but Harry just held onto her tighter and nuzzled his cheek to the top of her head.

He hummed, “S’comfortable here.”

Y/N didn’t know what else to do, so the only maneuver left was bribery. Harry’s no different than any guy in the sense that once sex is brought into the mix, his ears perk up and his dick stiffens. So, Y/N was going to use that to her advantage. “If you get up, you can fuck me all night tonight.”

Harry was quick to sit up, her still in his lap, eyes squinted in suspicion. Y/N bit her lip to refrain from laughing, but she was mentally patting herself on the back. His hands shifted down her back to grab onto the flash of her behind, pulling her center closer to his and building up a bit of friction. “How about right now and tonight?”

“I can’t be exhausted for today, H,” Y/N rolled her eyes, moving to get herself off his lap, but he kept her grounded.

“You don’t ‘ave to get in the water now. You’ve practiced, you’re prepared, you got this. The championship is practically in your hands already,” he disclosed, peppering kisses up the side of her neck, a few across her jawline, and then landing on her lips.

Even if that may be true, she doesn’t want that to stop her from putting effort and time into winning. “Harry…” she started, getting lost in the feel of his lips suckling a lovebite right in the crook of her neck, her most sweet spot. He lifted his hips up slightly, pushing against her heat, eliciting the smallest moan from her mouth.

“Bet y’soaking your suit. Can I see?”

They only have a limited amount of time before they need to get to the Northshore at Ehukai Beach Park for the competition. It was about a forty-five minute drive alone. But, Harry’s lips and fingers were way too persuasive, so Y/N nodded her head.

“Good girl.”

He lifted her up so her back was now against the belly of his pink board, her legs immediately wrapped around his broad shoulders as he placed a chaste kiss to her clothed core. She whined as he hooked his fingers into her bikini bottoms, dragging them tortuously slow down her legs. His eyes immediately attracted themselves to her glistening slit, her wetness practically inviting him in. “So fucking pretty, baby.”

Harry’s hands pushed her legs as far apart as they would go, licking a fat stripe up from her little hole to her sensitive clit. Y/N threw her head back as he focused his attention on her clit, swirling his tongue around the little bud before sucking it into his mouth. She was a whimpering mess, but that earned her a smack on the ass and a first warning from Harry.

“No one’s around. Let me hear you loud and clear,” he gave her a pointed look, keeping their eye contact as he went a little further south, pushing the tip of his tongue into her cunt. Y/N tried closing her legs around his head but Harry just pushed them open further, keeping a firm grip on her thighs that were bound to leave bruises. Bruises just for her.

Her jaw fell slack, moans tumbling past her pink lips louder and louder. Her nails dug into his shoulders, most likely leaving scratches he’ll find later when they’re stinging in the shower. Just for him.

Y/N was growing restless as he inserted his middle and ring finger inside of her, pushing and pulling them at an intense pace that caused her toes to curl in the sand by his hips. When he managed to push his index finger in alongside the other two, Y/N began to see stars at the stretch of her walls.

“So tight f’me. Imagine it was my cock instead. Would feel so good and full, but you’d be too exhausted for later, hm?” He cooed, letting her adjust to the extra digit inside of her before fucking her harder and faster than before. He kissed up her tummy that was visible from under her shirt before landing his forehead against hers.

His free hand grabbed a hold of her jaw, making her face him which caused her eyes to open up quickly, locking eye contact with one another. “S’a shame. M’so hard, like a fucking rock. But you’ll be too tired.”

Teasingly, Y/N nodded her head in agreement, earning a hard glare from her lover. At this, he stopped the movement of his fingers, slowly pulling them out of her. Y/N’s mouth opened wide, her eyebrows scrunching in confusion as Harry sucked his fingers past his lips, indulging in her sweetness that tasted like a little sliver of heaven.

“Wh-wha…?”

“Close y’mouth, Y/N. Gonna catch flies,” he smirked, reaching over for her bikini bottoms and sliding them back up her legs until they were nestled against her soaking wet, throbbing pussy. “Said it y’self. Can’t be exhausted for the finale today, gotta be quick on your feet and coasting the gnarliest waves. C’mon slow poke, gotta get some practice in.”

So, Y/N was pissed off to say the least. And because of this, she was extra determined to push herself as far as she could to come out on top today. Harry on the other hand, well he was just mad that he had an insane hard-on that his own girlfriend didn’t want to tend to. He should’ve expected his little stunt wouldn’t go over nicely, but the look on her face when he stopped was absolutely priceless.

When it was announced that Y/N and Harry had won in their divisions everyone was beyond elated at the news, cheers and hugs and kisses spread all around the group. Though when it was their turn to congratulate each other, they looked at each other, small smiles on their faces before they turned to make conversation with someone else. That didn’t stop them from reaching for one another though, slyly interlocking their hands together.

They were whisked away quickly for pictures, holding their trophies high in the air, the biggest smiles on their faces. Y/N’s parents were cheering them on, more specifically her because they were so proud she was able to take her life back. Y/N could cry at the sight of her mother being a blubbering mess, and her dad’s admiration sparkling across his eyes. Though, with the support of her family, Y/N’s mind couldn’t help but wonder about Harry’s family, and how they couldn’t support their son with what he loved.

With this, Y/N squeezed his hand harder, and despite the cameras around them, she leaned up on her tiptoes and placed a kiss to his lips, the clicks of the cameras and the chatter of the crowd increasing. But, neither of them cared as they looked at one another, full of love.

Because that’s what this was. Love.

It didn’t matter that they had only met a little over three months ago, only dating for two months. They were in love. And that’s all that mattered.

Going out to dinner that night, they hardly left each other’s sides. They were being that obnoxious clingy couple that no one likes being around, but they didn’t care. Because they both knew they were in love. An unspoken love that didn’t have to be announced because the whole world knew, and so did they.

“Cheers to the love birds! And for the love of God, could you stop looking at each other like that,” AJ gagged, causing everyone to laugh before they clinked glasses.

When they left the restaurant, Harry and Y/N hopped into Betty, driving around for a little while before they decided to stay at his for the night. It was when the wind was blowing in her hair again, the moon shining above them and shining through her hair, his hand gently on her thigh, squeezing softly in contrast to that morning, that Harry truly felt it. This love that he has for this girl. Love that’s meant just for her. Her, and only her.

This gushy feeling was put on hold for a little while though the moment they walked through the door of his apartment. Y/N was bent over the arm of his living room couch, her one leg bent and on the armrest beside her while the other was trying its best to keep her steady on the ground. Harry’s fist was wrapped up in her hair, proving to make it more difficult for her to keep her balance. Though she wouldn’t want it any other way.

“What’s the matter, babe? You said I could fuck you all night.” Harry’s hot breath coated the shell of her ear, “Y’tired?”

She gasped at a particularly hard thrust that felt like it had hit against her cervix, trying to get the word No out in between her moans and whimpers.

“Hope not. Had me aching all day for your tiny cunt. M’gonna need a few hours to really appreciate it.” She could feel his menacing smirk against her skin as he again thrusted so far deep inside of her, her one leg gave out. If it wasn’t for Harry holding her up, she would’ve fell right over, too weak to even try and get back up.

They went twice on the couch before Harry helped her get to the shower, where they did it again. And then when they finally cleaned themselves, they got into bed, where they did it again, but this one could be classified under love-making. It was slow and sensual and sweet, just like them. Harry paid extra attention to her scar, trailing down the tissue with soft kisses as they softly climaxed together.

It was a little past midnight at this point, and they were both extremely tired. Y/N was on the brink of dozing off into dreamland before Harry interrupted her exhaustion.

“We never finished our game of twenty questions, did we?” He murmured, pushing a strand of her hair behind her ear.

Y/N lazily opened her eyes, shaking her head, “Don’t believe so.”

“Think it’s my turn,” he hummed. “Do you love me?”

There was silence for a brief couple of seconds, making Harry think Y/N had dozed off before answering his question. But, Y/N just needed those seconds to collect her mushed thoughts inside of her mushy brain before giving him a coherent and valid response.

“Yeah. I do.”

Harry smiled, probably the biggest he’s ever smiled, leaning down and taking hold of her face and smashing their lips together in a ceremonious kiss.

“Sick. Ditto, Sunshine.”

#it would mean so much if you tell me what you thought #harry styles one shot #harry styles au #harry styles imagine #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #harry styles #one direction fanfiction

739 notes · View notes

marvelmusing · 3 years

Text

Making Time

Mobius M Mobius x Reader

Part 2

My Masterlist

“1985, huh?” You say, looking up from the briefing Mobius has just handed you.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll spot a delorian?” He jokes, making a Back to the Future reference. You smile at him, remembering when you’d first mentioned the movie. You hadn’t been at the TVA long, to your knowledge.

You’re sat in one of the cafes, explaining something about the timeline to Casey, and you make an offhand reference to the movie. To which, Casey looks even more confused. You glance at Mobius, who’s been sat next to you, watching your teaching with a smile. You offer them both a small smile, at yet another reminder that you’re from somewhere very different from the rest of them.

“Neither of you have seen it have you?” Mobius shakes his head.

“Not a lot of chances for watching movies when dealing with the timeline. Should we get the chance, I’d love to.” It’s a few days later when you give him the chance.

“Honey, I’m home.” You hear Mobius call out, which brings a smile to your face. Whilst you had your own apartment, you much preferred staying with Mobius, like you did when you first arrived at the TVA. You hear him set down a pile of papers in the kitchen, before making his way into the lounge where you’re sat waiting for him. “Hey.”

“Hi.”

“What’s all this?”

“Back to the Future. I went through my file, and managed to find a version that I watched that was uninterrupted. Then I isolated it, and copied it onto one of those cassette reel things, so that it’ll play on your mini projector.” You pause, before adding, “I probably put too much effort into this but, I thought we could have what my time considers a movie night?”

“A movie night?” Your face falls slightly, feeling embarrassed by your suggestion.

“We don’t have to-“ you start. He shrugs off his jacket and settles down next to you.

“Did I not tell you I wanted to watch it, should I get the chance?”

“Well, yeah.” He gestures to the projector.

“Let’s get this show on a roll.” You grin at him, before quickly pressing play on the projector. Mobius leans an arm on the couch and pulls you to his side. “You finally have clearance to access to your file, and you use it to watch Back to the Future?”

“What else was I supposed to do with it?” You joke.

You and Mobius head to the cubicle where you left Loki this morning. You spot him wapping against the desk with a magazine.

“Training going well?” You ask him. He leans back in his chair, attempting to look casual.

“Yeah.”

“Is that my jet ski magazine?” Mobius asks him. “Put it down. Gear up. There's been an attack. Let's go.” He hands Loki the jacket he’s been carrying. You set the briefing down on the desk, and follow Mobius. Loki trails behind you. “Put it on.” Loki shrugs the jacket on, adjusting the collar before posing.

“Nice.” You tell him with a smile.

“Good. Yeah, smart.” Mobius says distractedly. You soon reach the Timedoors, where a small group of hunters have gathered to wait. B-15 opens up the briefing.

“C-20 and her team went dark shortly after they jumped into the 1985 branch. All signs point to another ambush. We've grabbed enough temporal aura to know it's our Loki Variant. But which kind of Loki, remains unknown.”

“They're the lesser kind, to be clear.” Loki specifies. B-15 sighs,

“Let me see the back of that jacket.” Loki does a small turn, showing the group the back of his jacket, where the bright orange letters reading VARIANT stand out. Everyone is the group shares a small smile. You’re glad you don’t have to wear one of those anymore.

“Very subtle. Well done.”

“I don't want anybody out there to forget what you are.”

“Oh, your only hope of capturing a murderer?”

“No. A cosmic mistake.”

“That's enough.” Mobius interrupts.

“Lovely.” You hear Loki murmur.

“Here's the deal.” Mobius begins. “When we get out on the branch, we're not just looking for a Time Criminal. We're looking for a Loki. A variation of this guy. A type we should all be very familiar with, because the TVA has pruned a lotta these guys, almost more than any other Variant.” He skims through a few of the Loki Variants that the TVA have caught before. “And no two are alike. Slight differences in appearances, or not so slight. Different powers, although, powers generally include: shapeshifting, illusion projection, and my favourite-”

“Duplication casting.” Loki interrupts

“Illusion projection.”

“No, they're two completely different powers.”

“How?” You ask him.

“Illusion-projection involves depicting a detailed image from outside oneself, which is perceptible in the external world, whereas duplication-casting entails recreating an exact facsimile of one's own body in its present circumstance, which acts as a true holographic mirror of its molecular structure. But you already knew that.” He explains. You catch a glimpse of Mobius’s smirk before he says,

“Okay, take a breath. Noted. We're gonna break into two teams, including myself and Professor Loki.”

“Why?” A hunter stood beside you asks.

“Because whoever this Variant is, we haven't been able to find him. So let's bring in an expert.” Loki looks around at the group before adding a quiet,

“That's me.”

As the hunters prepare themselves, you hear Loki ask, “Do I get a weapon?” You laugh lightly,

“No chance.”

“Well, I'll have my magic back. Is no one concerned about that?”

“Of what?” Mobius asks.

“Me betraying you.”

“No.”

“Why not?”

“You know that we’ll just catch you again.” You tell him.

“And how's betraying us gonna get you any closer to the Time-Keepers?” Mobius adds. Loki leans forward, his attention fixed on Mobius.

“An audience with the Time-Keepers is on the table?”

“Keep that focus.” Mobius tells him. The three of you follow the hunters through the Timedoor, and out into 1985 Wisconsin. Your group makes their way through the crowd of the Renaissance fair before entering a large tent. It’s dark inside, with only a few lanterns to light your path. You watch as B-15 bends down to grasp examine a helmet left abandoned on the floor.

“So he's taking hostages now?” She says, turning to Mobius.

“The Variant's never taken a hostage before.”

“Maybe he's upping his game.”

“Or he pruned her.” One of the hunters remarks, you frown at his callousness towards his colleague.

“A Loki couldn't have gotten the jump on C-20.”

“I think you underestimate, actually...” Loki begins.

“Fan out and search for her. And hurry up, we're at three units until red line.” B-15 orders. Mobius sets a hand on your arm, and the two of you head to the exit.

“Come on.” He says to Loki.

“Wait. If you leave this tent, you'll end up like them.” Mobius stops beside Loki.

“What do you see?”

“I see a scheme, and in that scheme, I see myself.” Loki begins to ramble about an old Asgardian saying.

“Two units. He is wasting our time.” B-15 interrupts.

“Okay. Come on, Loki, make a long story short.” Mobius encourages.

“We need to look for C-20.”

“That's exactly what the Variant wants you to do. It's a trap. He's waiting for you outside this tent.”

“Should I secure the reset charges?”

“No. He wants me. I'm the key to his plan. He knows that I'm stronger. And he rightly believes that together we can overthrow and rule the TVA. But that's not what I want. I have a new purpose. I'm a servant of the Sacred Timeline. And knowing what I now know about his tactics, I can deliver you the Variant, but I need assurances.” He says, looking to Mobius. You glance up at Mobius, frowning slightly. Surely he isn’t believing what Loki’s saying? His eyes catch yours and there’s a small twinkle in them. You hide your smile. Loki circles around Mobius.

“Yeah?” Mobius offers.

“Assurances that I won't be completely disintegrated the moment the job has been done.”

“Right.” Loki leans forward, before whispering,

“We'll need to speak to the Time-Keepers at once. They're in graver danger than we realized.”

“He's lying. Just playing games. There's no one out there.” Mobius calls out to the group.

“Reset the timeline.” B-15 orders.

“You had me for a second. My ears are sharp too.” He points at Loki’s chest. You follow Mobius out of the tent.

“Well that went well.” You remark, hearing Mobius sigh. He runs his hand over his face.

You’re tucking into your lunch when you spot Mobius. He picks out a drink and a salad before making his way over to you. You give him a small smile,

“Hi.”

“Hey.”

“How did it go with Renslayer?” He sighs, leaning his head back, before getting comfortable in his seat.

“Well, our Loki hasn’t been deleted yet.”

“That’s good then?” You offer. He sighs,

“Yeah. Though he’s getting more and more talkative.”

“You did say he loves to talk. Where is he now?”

“I’ve left him with the archives, hopefully he’ll be reading for the next few days. Or at least long enough for me to finish lunch.” He begins to eat his salad. Just then, Loki scampers in looking like a manic puppy.

“I found something.” Mobius shakes his head, keeping his attention on his lunch,

“No, I said don’t bother me until you've read all the files.”

“I have.”

“Every file?”

“Yes.”

“Pertaining to the Variant?”

“The answer isn't in the files, it's on the timeline. He's hiding in apocalypses.”

“Which apocalypse?” You ask.

“Any time in history? There's, like, a million of 'em.” Mobius adds.

“Ragnarok. Are you familiar?”

“Yes. The destruction of Asgard and most of its people. I'm sorry.” Loki pauses looking down.

“Yes, very sad.” He immediately perks up again. “Anyway, it got me thinking. Nexus events happen when someone does something they're not supposed to do, right?”

“Well, it's a little more complicated, but, yeah.”

“Great. And then that thing they're not supposed to do, cascades into a whole range of other things that aren't supposed to happen.”

“And so on and so forth, until eventually, a new timeline branches. Yes?”

“Chaotic alterations of a predetermined outcome.”

“Exactly. So, let's just say...” He picks up the salad bowl from in front of Mobius.

“Mm-hm. What are you doing?”

“...your salad is Asgard in this scenario.” Loki continues.

“It's not Asgard, that's my lunch.” Mobius complains, the pouting clear in his voice. You lean forward, a hand on your chin to hide the smile at Mobius’s reaction.

“It's a metaphor. Just hang in there.”

“I want that salad.”

“And I could go down to Asgard before Ragnarok causes its complete destruction and I could do anything I wanted. I could, let's say, push the Hulk off the Rainbow Bridge.” He picks up a salt shaker and puts a large sprinkling of salt across Mobius’s salad.

“There he goes.” You say, feeling rather invested in this metaphor.

“The salt's Hulk?” Mobius asks, clearly not as enthusiastic as you.

“And I could also... Set fire to the palace.” He picks up a pepper pot and shakes the pepper across the salad.

“No, just stop. Don't set fire to the palace.”

“Okay? I can do whatever I want to do, and it would never matter. It wouldn't go against the dictates of the timeline because...” He sets down the shakers after nearly emptying them both. He heads to the table behind you. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, God!” Mobius sighs.

“You!” Recognising the voice you look up to see Casey looking very confused.

“Nice to see you. I just need this for a second. Thanks.” Loki picks up Casey’s carton of juice, before sitting back down at your table. “Because the apocalypse is coming. Ragnarok, Surtur will destroy Asgard no matter what I do.”

“No, don't do...” Mobius sighs as Loki empties the carton over the remains of the salad.

“There's the apocalypse.” You say with a sigh, offering Mobius your bag of chips.

“That's the apocalypse?” He asks, taking a handful of chips from you with a smile.

“Ragnarok obliterates the salt. Ragnarok. There it is.” Loki gestures to the ruined salad with a proud smile.

“What am I lookin' at?”

“Okay, it was a clumsy metaphor. But you see what I mean. It doesn't matter. It could be any apocalypse. It could be a tidal wave. It could be a meteor. It could be a volcano, a supernova. If everything and everyone around you is destined for imminent destruction, then nothing that I say or do will matter, because the timeline's not gonna branch. Hence, the Variant could be hiding in the apocalypse and do whatever he wants, and we wouldn't know!”

“Not bad.” You offer.

“Take me to a real apocalypse, to Ragnarok, I'll show you.” Mobius chuckles,

“Yeah. So you can run away back to your homeland? No.”

“No, I'm not going home. We can go anywhere.”

“I'm not taking you for a stroll along the promenade, much less an apocalypse.”

“Oh, Mobius, come on! What could possibly go wrong? We gotta properly test this theory.”

“Well, here's a fun theory. You lure me out into the field, and stab me in the back. And that's a theory I don't wanna test.”

“I'd never stab anyone in the back. That's such a boring form of betrayal.” He most definitely would stab someone in the back.

“Loki, I've studied almost every moment of your entire life. You've literally stabbed people in the back, like 50 times.”

“Well, I'd never do it again, because it got old.” You both laugh at this. Mobius looks at you, and you shrug.

“Might as well try it?” You offer. Mobius nods,

“Okay.”

“Okay, look, you don't trust me, you can trust one thing. I love to be right.” Loki adds. That certainly isn’t a lie.

Tagslist: @n0obmaster69 @mackycat11 @wibblywobblyjeremybearimy @boriqs @morganwilliams @greeneyedblondie44

If you’d like to be tagged just ask!!

#mobius m mobius x reader #mobius x reader #agent mobius #mobius #mobius m mobius #mobius loki #loki 2021 #tva loki #time variance authority #marvel au #marvel x reader

90 notes · View notes

miekasa · 3 years

Text

winter break/skiing au with eren

↯ pairing: eren jaeger x (fem) reader

↯ genres and warnings: modern au (college), fluff, eren is an idiot but we all knew that, and yes i do think he’d probably be a good snowboarder or athlete in general tbh

↯ word count: 2.7k lol and it’s not even written out like a fic

↯ notes: this is based off of a request i got for meeting eren at a ski lodge. heads up i know next to nothing about skiing or any related sport, so bear with me on this. also this formatting is... headcanonish but also fic like?? in an alternate timeline, i could write this out as a fic, but my lack of knowledge about the subject + me wanting to try this format out resulted in this!

If he’s being completely honest, Eren wasn’t ecstatic to be going on this skiing trip with his friends in the first place, but he didn’t have much choice, seeing as he didn’t want to be the only one left behind for winter break.

Not to mention he’s a shit skier. He’s fine with a snowboard, so he wouldn’t be stuck on the bunny hills for a week, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. After all, he was pushing to go somewhere warm for break. You know, since it was already freezing cold at home.

Nevertheless, he sucks it up for the sake of his friends’ happiness (and because he was severely outnumbered. Also because Armin had never been skiing and Eren really wanted to record him falling face first into the snow at some point).

As expected, it’s fucking freezing by the time they make it to the lodge, but at least Jean—resident organizer of this trip—had gotten them a pretty nice cabin with central heating, and a fireplace. It’s more of a house that they’re renting really, with enough rooms for the six of them.

Unfortunately the rooms were not soundproof so he was subject to hearing Jean and Connie staying up until the crack of dawn, and Mikasa throwing pillows at Sasha telling her to shut the fuck up. But at least he got to room with Armin, so it wasn’t all bad.

Eren spends the first day just chilling around, still warming up to the idea of the trip (and warming up physically, because fuck is it cold here). The lodge itself has main, communal buildings with indoor activities—a game room, indoor pools, hot tubs, a buffet, the whole nine yards—that he spends time exploring.

He’s heading down to the indoor pool with Armin and Jean in tow, the rest of his friends opting to head upstairs for dinner first after their day of skiing; and that’s where he sees you. And, not to sound like a lovestruck idiot, but Eren thinks you might be the prettiest person he’s ever seen in his life.

In a cliche moment, he catches you as your head reemerges from out of the water, face dripping wet with pool water as you tread in your spot. Eren looks stupid—big, green eyes wide as hell and a little bit of a gap between his lips.

Jean has to smack him upside the head to get him walking again, mumbling about how Eren looks like the literal heart eyes emoji to which Eren simply pushes the taller boy into the water.

He looks back to spot you again (in a non-creepy manner of course), when a voice calls out your name—he’s presuming, by the way your turn your head.

“You’ll turn into a prune if you stay in any longer,” a short man with dark hair calls to you, a towel around his shoulder his mostly dry body, save for his swimming shorts that are still damp, “Come on, I don’t want get the shit end of the stick at the buffet.”

The short man’s words seem to make you chuckle, and a little reluctantly, you swim to the edge of the pool, taking his hand to get out of the water. Eren frowns a bit watching the interaction. You and the short man seem close—there go his chances of… well, he’s not sure exactly… uh… talking to you, maybe?

Whatever it was, you might already have a boyfriend, and from the way the rest of, who Eren is again presuming to be, your friends walk with you to the exit, it doesn’t seem like he’d ever find you alone again.

Oh well. He sighs, trying not to think much of it, and enjoy his time in the pool. (He fucking doesn’t because Jean gets his revenge and pushes him in the deep and even Armin his him with a pool noodle. Traitor).

Day two he’s finally going to to the slopes. On his way up in the lift, he can see Sasha and Connie stumbling down the hill while Jean laughs behind them, and Eren only shakes his head.

Yeah, maybe they shouldn’t have taken Sasha, Connie, and Armin with them on the advanced hills, but it was so much more fun this way. Although, to his credit, Armin was catching on quickly (no thanks to Eren or Jean; that was all Mikasa’s teachings).

Eren lets Mikasa work her magic with Armin. He straps on his helmet and goggles, and heads down first. It’s been a while since he’s snowboarded, but he’s still pretty damn good if he does say so himself. He even tries out a few old tricks and—not to brag—but sticks his landing every time.

Halfway down the slope, he can feel someone else boarding beside him—and he doesn’t think much of it, until they replicate his previous flip, landing a just a little in front of him.

Eren can’t see the person through their goggles, but from the way they look back at him before pushing forward, he can tell that they wanted a challenge. And who is Eren to turn down a little friendly competition?

The descent continues on with Eren and his mystery partner not-so-subtly flexing their own skills. Eren copies their flips and turns, and is amazed as he watches them copy his in return.

He decides to kick it up a notch, swerving over to a small snow rap, to use the height it gives him to pull off his signature move—yes it’s called the Jaegerbomb, yes he did come up with it when he was eleven, and no he doesn’t regret because it’s still sick as fuck, shutup Zeke.

He sticks his landing, perfectly timed with the end of the slope, pushing his board forward to completely stop himself. He turns around, lifting his goggles, to give his copycat a smug look, when, to his surprise, he sees them pulling off something almost equally as impressive, and probably more complex before they land.

Eren’s got the same stupid, starstruck look on his face as he did in the pool, as he watching their momentum come to a stop a little ways downhill from him, because, fuck if that wasn’t the coolest thing he’s ever seen.

Immediately, they’re surrounded by two other bodies, both of which sing their praises, probably for that last move. Eren knows he would. It’s only after your goggles are pushed up over your helmet and your turn around that Eren realizes its you! The girl from the pool.

If he was awestruck before, it’s nothing compared how he’s feeling now. No way you were the same person! But, he has to admit, if we were gonna get crushed by anybody on the slopes, he’s glad it was a pretty girl.

To his surprise, you make your way over to him after unbuckling from your board, and Eren has to quickly shake the stupid look off of his face.

“I guess I lost our race back there,” you say with a smile, cloudy air falling from your lips from the cold, “But I just wanted to tell you that your last flip was really cool! It must have taken you forever to master that.”

For the first time since arriving, Eren’s glad it’s cold as shit, because now at least he has a coverup for the redness creeping onto his cheeks. With a nervous chuckle, he finally responds, “Yeah, I’ve, uh, kinda been working on it since I was eleven.”

“Well it definitely payed off, I’ve never seen anything like it,” you cheer, and Eren is really considering passing out right now, but that would not be cool. Very uncool. So he doesn’t. “Have you been boarding that long?”

“Yeah! I mean, well, I’m only 21, so I guess not that long,” Eren says with a nervous chuckle, “Well—uh, I guess, like, ten years is a long time, but I—I used to snowboard more often when I was little with my family, then, um, you know college got in the way in stuff… haha… yeah.”

Okay, fine, Eren has never been the smoothest guy in the world, but he’s usually not this awkward either. But can you really blame him?—between your looks, and your skills, and the fact that you actually came over to initiate and carry out a conversation with him, he was a goner from the start.

“I’m Eren, by the way,” he continues, hoping to cover up his awkward stuttering, “And, uh, you must have been doing this for a while too? Your last move was sick, I’ve never seen anything like it!”

“(Y/N),” you respond with a smile. Luckily for him, you don’t seem completely turned off by his awkward demeanor, still as bubbly as ever. “Not really… well, kind of? Maybe a few years at this point, but my teacher’s been a real hardass, so I learned to pick up on things pretty quick unless I wanted to get turned into a human snowball,” you tell him, turning your shoulder a bit to point back at your friends, “If you think what I did was good, you gotta see Levi—he’s the short one yelling at the one with the pigtails. He taught me everything I know.”

Eren recognizes Levi as the shorter man who helped you out of the pool yesterday. He deflates a little—he’d kind of forgotten about him, and he isn’t too happy to be reminded of him again.

“Oh, I see,” Eren nods, glancing over at Levi once more, “He must be a pretty good teacher.”

“When he’s not throwing snowballs as a learning tool, yeah he is,” you laugh, ��Anyways, I actually wanted to ask if you wanted to go at it again sometime. I don’t know how long you’re, uh, staying or anything, but racing with you was fun. Even if you did get a bit of a head start.”

“I’m here for the week, actually,” Eren’s eyes practically shine at the hint of competitiveness in your voice. He loves to be challenged, after all. “But I don’t mind giving it a go right now, if you’re going up again?”

Eren has to stop himself from grinning like an idiot when you accept his invitation. He thinks he’s finally in the clear when he hears the short man—Levi—call out your name again.

To his surprise, you beckon Eren along with you, and you introduce him to Levi formally. Levi has to look up to look at Eren, but Eren’s the one who shrinks under his gaze; an embarrassed flush creeping up his neck. Damn, your teacher (friend, too? not boyfriend, apparently, though?) is intimidating as hell, how on Earth do you take lessons from him without buckling in fear??

You point to your other friends—Isabel and Farlan—who are standing a little further away. The former of whom is attempting to make a snow angel while the blonde is enthusiastically recording and taking pictures of the events.

After introducing the two, you ask Levi if he wants to up the hill with the both you again (and no, Eren doesn’t pout when you extend the offer to him—he’s really working on this keeping his feelings in check and being a rational thinker and all that and if you ask him it’s paying off), to which Levi declines (thank god).

Not even because Eren would be bummed if you didn’t get that he wanted to spend some more time alone with you not just to snowboard, but also because he knows he’d fall flat on his face in front of Levi, and then he’d probably have to hide in shame for the rest of his trip.

“Looks like it’s just us then,” you smile at him, “Okay, we can head back up—I’m just gonna ask Isabel to trade gloves with me real quick, yeah? And steal a heat pack from her.”

Eren doesn’t know if he should follow you over to Isabel, so he kind of shuffles around where he’s standing, a few feet next to Levi. (And damn, is it just Eren or is it suddenly 50 degrees colder next to this man).

Eren’s avoiding eye contact and small talk—and subsequently avoiding any bubbling feelings or irrational false suspicions about Levi. Also, he sucks at small talk.

It’s Levi who lets out an exasperated sigh first, not even bothering to turn to face Eren before bluntly saying, “She’s single.”

Eren’s eyes go wide and he’s sputtering in embarrassment—also because Levi said it so loudly, what if you heard??—but he’s cut off again before he can even speak: “Don’t even try it, Farlan and I saw you drooling over her at the pool, too.”

Well, now Eren’s certain that the blush on his face and neck are not from the cold, but from his complete and utter humiliation. “Well, I, uh, I didn’t mean to—”

“You don’t seem to be too great at this, so I’ll take pity on you and tell you she likes you, too. Or likes you enough, at least,” Levi continues.

“I—she does?” Eren blurts. Okay, now he’s probably being too loud.

“She talked to you didn’t she,” Levi says, but the question comes out as more of a deadpan observation, “Look if she asks you about anything while you’re up there—or better yet, asks you to teach her anything, just take it as an opening, alright kid? Trust me, there’s nothing you can do that she can’t.”

Ouch. Eren reasons that Levi is probably right, he’s only seen you board once but you’re pretty incredibly but, still.

Wait does that mean you really were flirting with him before?? You’re actually interested in him???

He hears you calling out to him, and sees you waving, gesturing towards the lifts with a new pair of bright blue mittens on, and Eren barely has the coherency to wave back (stupidly, slowly, lovestruck, like an idiot).

Levi watches the exchange with a bored look on his face. He sighs audibly this time, untucking his arms from where they were crossed over his chest to pick up the snowboard at his feet. “Cabin 24C, east wing. Bring her back after dinner,” he says, hoisting the board under his arm before walking towards Farlan and Isbael.

Eren doesn’t even have time to ask him anymore questions—plus you’ve started walking towards the lifts and he’s obviously not going to leave you hanging.

He doesn’t and your little ski-lift, snowboarding kind of date goes well, even if he’s positive you did take it easy on him.

You’re the one to ask him to go up one more time, when Eren remembers Levi’s advice and finally musters up the courage to ask: “Actually, I’m a little hungry—do you, uh, maybe wanna head inside for dinner? If you’re still up to, we can come back later.”

And when the evening is over and Eren’s gotten your number, he does in fact walk you back to your lodge with your friends, and he thinks that even Levi gave him a look of approval before slamming the door in his face.

(It wasn’t really approval, so much as he’s impressed Eren had the balls and critical thinking skills to actually ask you out in the end. But it’s fine because Farlan and Isabel both loudly told him how happy they were to see you’d scored a date with ‘emerald eyes from the pool’).

Mikasa and Armin are less than impressed when Eren comes back to his own lodge at damn near midnight after having not answered any of their calls all day, but Eren thinks it was worth it, even if he does have a bruise from Armin poking him in the side with his ski poles.

Eren meets you at the slopes every day for the rest of the week, ignoring Jean and Connie’s claims about him being a simp. So what if he is? He’s the one snowboarding and sipping hot chocolate with the pretty girl from pool at the end of the day isn’t he?

He learns that the both of you attend the same university, but are in almost opposite programs. That makes sense, Eren thinks, because he surely would have remembered seeing you on campus before.

You even get along with his friends really well, even if you only get the opportunity to meet them once at the lodge. Eren is more than impressed, he doesn’t think he’s ever seen Mikasa warm up to someone so quickly.

He thinks he’s pretty successful at meeting your friends, too. Isabel and Farlan continually reassure him that you do in fact have a crush on him (and maybe even persuade him try and kiss you before the week is over. Spoiler: he does, while it’s snowing and everything and it’s pretty damn great).

On the last day of his trip, Eren takes you to the top of the hill with all his friends, and when you completely demolish Jean and leave him eating your dust, Eren thinks he might just be halfway in love with you already.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren x you #aot imagines #snk imagines #eren smut #eren fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman best wingman obviously #not really he just couldnt bear to see the both you be so painfully awkward with eachother bye #but hey he helped at the end of the day

348 notes · View notes

griefpersevering · 3 years

Text

sometimes you bend, sometimes you stand

the lokius beach fix-it fic nobody asked for

[Read on AO3] [Buy me a coffee?]

“Who are you?”

Loki stares at him for a long moment, his heart sinking in his chest. First Sylvie, now Mobius… maybe Lokis are destined to lose.

“What?” he asks, still breathing heavily.

The last few days have all melded into one; an indecipherable blur of racing for survival and not much else. With so much happening in quick succession since his failure in New York, it’s impossible to tell whether it has been days or weeks or months since he first arrived at the TVA.

Mobius doesn’t answer, just raising an eyebrow at him.

Loki allows his eyes to wander, assessing the situation and resigning himself to a fight. If Mobius doesn’t know who he is… well, there’s a chance he could get pruned again, and he would like to avoid that situation. Currently, the only people he can see are B-15 - who shouldn’t be too much of a problem - and Mobius, who he would prefer not to hurt, but if he doesn’t recognise him then-

Mobius bursts out laughing, B-15 snickering behind him. She claps him on the shoulder before waving goodbye and wandering off, still laughing to herself as she leaves.

“Sorry, I’m sorry,” Mobius says between breaths, his confusion replaced with a smile. “That was mean. I just couldn’t help myself.”

“Mobius?” Loki ventures, still wary.

“Look, all that stuff about the Multiverse or whatever?” he replies, waving a hand dismissively. “Not our problem. I’ve officially retired, and I’ve got an excellent retirement plan. Fancy joining me?”

Loki crosses his arms, frowning. “You tricked me.”

Mobius shrugs. “Seems only fair.”

He tries not to smile. “You’re sure the TVA can deal with the Multiverse?”

“Yep, B-15’s taking care of it. Now, come on, there’s a beach waiting for us.”

Mobius fiddles with his TemPad for a moment, a doorway opening up in front of them. He takes a few confident strides towards it before hesitating, looking around the library one last time.

“You don’t have to come with me, you know,” he says, not meeting Loki’s eyes. “I know… I know a quieter life doesn’t really agree with Lokis. You can stay for the fight, if you want, or for Sylvie.”

Loki’s chest constricts at the mention of her, but he forces a small, sad smile onto his face. “You can’t get rid of me that easily,” he answers, and Mobius smiles.

“For all time, then,” he says, extending his hand to Loki.

“Always,” he finishes, taking it as they step through the doorway together.

keep reading under the cut!

1991

The other side of the portal is exactly what Mobius promised: a beach. But what he failed to mention is the beauty of said beach - it isn’t just any old strip of sand, but one of the most breathtaking places Loki has ever had the honour of visiting.

They take a few steps into this new world, their shoes filling up with sand and their hands still entwined as they let their eyes adjust to the bright light. Loki pauses to slip off his socks and shoes, the sand warm and soft between his toes. Mobius follows suit, leaning on Loki for balance, a huge smile on his face.

“It should only be a few minutes walk from here,” Mobius announces, grinning.

“What is?” Loki asks, but he doesn’t get an answer. For once in his life, he isn’t sure he needs one, happy to go along with whatever adventure Mobius has planned.

They walk in comfortable silence, their feet sinking into the sand as they take in the tropical sights. To their left is a bay filled with sparking water which disappears past the land out to the horizon. In the distance, Loki can see a much busier beach by what appears to be a town. If he listens carefully enough, and the wind is blowing in the right direction, he can hear a hundred conversations carrying across the bay at once, a pleasant white noise that mixes with the sound of lapping waves.

To their right is a row of secluded houses, all enveloped in lush greenery that grows from the forest behind them, seeming to lean forwards and envelop them. Their front doors are all painted a variety of bright colours - red, yellow, purple, orange, pink - apart from the one at the end, which is just the default brown.

Mobius pulls a set of keys out of his pocket, a tiny fish keyring hanging from them. “This one is ours,” he declares, and he tugs Loki towards the little cottage at the end of the row.

It takes him a moment to find the right key to unlock the door before it swings open, a neutral brown and white hallway greeting them. He leaves his shoes on the mat outside the front door, Loki following suit, before venturing inside their new house.

Loki can’t say he is surprised by the decor - it isn’t exactly reminiscent of the TVA, but everything is decorated to look almost like a show home. There are no bright colours, no personal touches, nothing to indicate that anyone has ever lived there before them.

Just as Loki opens his mouth to say something, Mobius wrinkles his nose and beats him to it.

“Would it kill someone to pick up a paintbrush?” he complains, but he’s still smiling. “That’s what you get for a company retirement plan that’s only been in place for six hours, I guess… we’ll have to do it all ourselves.”

Loki raises an eyebrow. “Company retirement plan?”

Mobius grins. “We have a lot to catch up on. Come on, why don’t you get cleaned up, and I’ll get us something to drink.”

As soon as he leaves the room, Loki rolls his eyes and waves his hand, using his magic to clean the blood and the dirt off of him and to change into a pair of shorts and a bright green haiwaiian t-shirt. And, now that he thinks about it… he frowns and uses what little magic he has left in him to spruce up the place a bit, before collapsing onto the (admittedly, very comfy) couch.

Mobius returns only a few minutes later, raising his eyebrows at the way Loki is sprawled across the sofa, his eyes closed. He looks around the room, taking in the few things that Loki has added - a blanket draped across the back of the couch, a wooden coffee table with a golden bowl of fruit placed neatly on top, and a framed poster of a jet ski on the far wall.

Oh, Mobius thinks with a snicker, you’re gonna love what I have planned for tomorrow.

“Did you get us a drink or are you just going to stand there for all eternity?” Loki asks without opening his eyes, swinging his legs so that there’s room to sit next to him.

“Sorry if I wasn’t moving fast enough, your highness,” Mobius teases as he plops onto the couch, passing a cold beer bottle into Loki’s waiting hands. “The new outfit slowed me down a bit.”

Loki smirks, cracking open one eye to see the outfit that he’d swapped for Mobius’ old clothes. “I thought you’d appreciate something more comfortable. Besides, we match.”

He swings his legs back up onto Mobius’ lap, taking a swig of his drink. They are quiet for a moment, listening to the distant crashing of waves and enjoying the lack of need to do… well, anything.

“Do you mind if I turn the television on?” Mobius eventually asks, and Loki hums an affirmative. He grabs the remote, trying to avoid jostling the legs on his lap as much as possible, before pressing the on button.

As an afterthought, he tugs the soft blanket from the back of the sofa and drapes it over the both of them, firmly focusing his attention on the screen in front of them rather than the sleepy god next to him.

{o0o}

Since he isn’t exactly human, Loki doesn’t need nearly as much sleep as humans. Usually, about eight hours is enough to get him through the week. However, with all the crazy stuff and time hopping and running for his life that he has done in the last however long, he’s asleep within minutes of making contact with the sofa.

When he wakes, however, it is to light streaming through a thin beige curtain. He sits up, running a hand through his hair, as he sleepily takes in his surroundings.

Somehow, he has ended up on top of a bed that he has never seen before. Given the boring decor, he assumes it must be the upstairs of the cottage… so, presumably, Mobius had moved him upstairs in his sleep.

Loki waits for that statement to sink in, for him to feel that usual sense of panic at someone being there and moving him while he was vulnerable, but it never comes.

(If he is being honest with himself, he knows exactly why Mobius is the exception, but he isn’t ready to admit that, not yet.)

He wanders over to the window, yanking open the curtain. There, outside, is the same paradise they had arrived in only last night. And, if the digital clock on the bedside table is enough to go by, it’s 10am on the twenty-fourth of September, 1991.

The view is even more beautiful when he is more awake to admire it, Loki decides. The bay sparkles like a rare jewel, and he finds himself cracking the window open to let some fresh air in.

He sighs, a long breath that mists the glass in front of him. He’ll miss this place, when he inevitably has to leave. Because there’s no way he can stay here for the rest of his life; he’s a Loki, after all, and Lokis are destined to lose. This - a paradise beyond time with someone who knows who he is and accepts him for who he is? He could scoff at the idea. When has the Universe (or the Multiverse, he supposes) ever been that kind to him?

Loki stares blankly out of the window for a few minutes until he is broken from his trance when he spots a familiar figure struggling down the beach, attempting to balance much more shopping than one man can manage.

He blinks a few times, making sure that it is, in fact, Mobius, before barking out a laugh and rushing downstairs and out the front door to lend him a hand. After all, what kind of guest would he be if he let his host embarrass himself publicly within 24 hours of moving in?

When he catches up to him - wearing the same garish, bright orange haiwaiian shirt that Loki had conjured up for him yesterday, he notes - Mobius doesn’t even notice he’s there until several of the bags are lifted from him.

“Hey! Oh, it’s just you,” he exclaims, adjusting a box under his arm. “Thank you,” he adds.

“What did you get?” Loki asks, tucking some of the smaller items into a pocket dimension so he had free hands to carry the rest of it.

“Oh, just a couple of things to spruce the place up. I got a bit carried away, actually,” Mobius admits as they start off back down the beach. “How did you sleep?”

Loki rolls his eyes. “Like the dead, apparently. Did you move me while I was asleep?”

Mobius doesn’t meet his eyes as he responds. “Yep. You looked uncomfortable, and I didn’t want to wake you.”

There’s a pang in Loki’s chest; another reminder that leaving this place will get more and more painful the longer he stays. He can’t get used to these common gestures of affection - he can’t think of another person who would have cared enough about his comfort to go to the effort of carrying him up the stairs.

“Is something wrong?” Mobius asks, interrupting Loki’s train of thought. He’s staring at him, a curious expression on his face, and it’s only then that Loki realises they have stopped.

“It’s nothing,” Loki replies quickly, giving Mobius one of his most charming smiles as he starts walking again.

Mobius stays rooted to the spot. “Bullshit.”

Loki stops, his back turned to Mobius, and sighs. A range of lies are on the tip of his tongue, but he can’t quite find it in himself to bother trying to keep up a facade that they both know Mobius can see straight through.

“I’m having a nice time,” he states, after a minute of debate.

Mobius starts walking again, juggling his shopping as he catches up to Loki. “And that is a problem… why?”

“Because good things don’t last!” he exclaims, throwing his hands in the air. “Lokis are destined to lose.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow. “You think this will be taken away from you,” he says. It isn’t a question. “Well, I have a present for you, then. Two, actually.”

They reach the front door of their cottage, Loki’s eyes trained on the ground as he scuffs his sandals on the sand. Mobius rummages through his bags, trying to find something specific.

“May I have the red striped carrier bag, please?” he asks, when his search comes up fruitless. Loki conjures it for him, passing it over. He doesn’t know what’s in any of the bags (although, now, he’s thinking he should probably have checked), he had only picked it because it is one of the heaviest ones.

Mobius opens the bag from him with a word of thanks, peering in to check it’s the right one. Then, he sticks a hand in his pocket, pulling out his fist closed around something.

“Here,” he says, offering his closed fist to Loki. “This is yours to keep, forever.”

Loki cautiously holds out a hand, and Mobius drops the item into his palm. Loki stares at the little piece of metal, wondering how it could mean so much.

“...Is this?”

“The key to our house, yeah,” Mobius confirms, smiling. “And a crocodile keyring, since I’m apparently never going to get over meeting that version of you.”

Loki smiles, just slightly, cupping the key carefully in his hands as he admires the keyring.

“And that bag is also for you. Well, the contents are, I don’t know if you want the bag as well-”

It’s not hard to tell that Mobius is nervous, so Loki can’t begin to imagine what is in the bag. He picks it up, sand pouring out the bottom of the bag, raising his eyebrows at what he finds.

“Green paint?”

Mobius grins, scratching the back of his head. “We’re the only ones with a boring front door. I figured we should probably fix that, add some of your flare.”

Loki gives him a shit-eating grin, sliding the keys into his pocket.

“What?” Mobius asks, sensing something is up. “What did I say?”

With a wave of a hand and without the paint can ever being opened, the front door is suddenly the colour of Peppermint Fresh.

“You seem to be forgetting you live with a god,” Loki declares, waggling his eyebrows.

“Oh, come on.”

They spend the rest of their day renovating their new house, Loki’s powers speeding up the process immensely. Other than paint and wallpaper, Mobius had also bought them both some clothes, as well as a range of random items to make the place look a little more personal, and two whole bags of groceries.

“I’ve never cooked anything before,” he admits, just as the sun starts to dip below the horizon. “We never had to, at the TVA. We always just went to the canteen.”

Loki hums to the radio playing in the corner, standing back to check if the strip of wallpaper he had just hung looked straight. “We always had people cook for us, back on Asgard,” he replies. “My mother tried to teach me, but I found pestering my brother much more interesting.”

“Do you miss your family?” Mobius asks, collecting the paintbrushes from around the room so he can wash them in the kitchen sink.

“They weren’t my family,” he responds immediately, before wincing. “Well, not biologically. But I’m starting to think that maybe family is more than just DNA.”

Mobius nods, shoving the paintbrushes into a carrier bag. When he’s sure Loki has nothing else to say, he gestures to the door. “Want to make sure I don’t set fire to the kitchen?”

Loki smiles. He has found himself doing that more and more since he has met Mobius; the man always seems to know what to say and do. “I’m pretty sure you know that I have quite the history of arson, but sure.”

So, they go downstairs, Loki waving his hands and cleaning the stray blotches of paint off their clothes.

“Let’s start with something simple,” Mobius suggests, opening the fridge. “Fish fingers?”

Loki nods. “Surely even you can’t mess that up.”

Oh, how he was wrong. An hour later, they’re sitting next to each other on the couch (upright, this time) eating burnt fish fingers and scoffing at the programme they’re watching.

“Do humans really believe in these things?” Loki asks incredulously, squirting more ketchup on his plate in an attempt to overpower the burnt taste.

Mobius scoffs. “I think it’s for entertainment, Loki. But yeah, ‘aliens’ don’t act like this. At least, not as far as I know.”

��There’s a multiverse now,” Loki muses. “Maybe there weren’t any before, but there are now.”

Mobius shrugs. “Who knows. It’s not our problem, either way.”

Loki doesn’t answer, instead opting to scoop the fishfinger into his mouth. Mobius frowns at his lack of response, grabbing the remote and muting Mulder and Scully’s investigation.

“You do know… this whole multiverse business, it’s not your fault, right? And, as far as we know, nothing catastrophic has happened yet.”

Loki swallows, refusing to take his eyes off the silent TV. “That’s the thing, Mobius. It is my fault - partly, at the very least. And what if something bad does happen? Any suffering or pain caused by this is on my shoulders.”

Mobius puts his plate down on the coffee table, nudging him with his shoulder. “That statement is so incorrect, it’s unbelievable. I thought you were supposed to be smart?”

Loki doesn’t say anything, and he sighs.

“Look - first of all, it isn’t your fault. This is all on Sylvie. I don’t know what happened there, but from what I gather, you tried to stop her, and that’s all that matters. I’ve met a hundred different Lokis, and every single one of them would have done what benefits them the most, not fought to try and do something to help other people.”

“She kissed me,” Loki says, out of nowhere. “Sylvie, I mean. And then she just… tossed me away.”

Mobius frowns. “Did you like her?”

“I thought I did,” he admits. “But I think - I don’t think I liked her like that. I think I mistook wanting her to be safe and happy for love.”

“It’s a kind of love, just perhaps not the one you assumed it was.”

Loki nods. “I loved her like a sister, I suppose.”

“And she betrayed you,” Mobius continues. “When you were finally allowing yourself to trust others again.”

Loki puts his plate on top of Mobius’, suddenly not hungry. He tries to turn his attention back to the muted television, but he’s missed too much of the exposition to properly understand what is happening.

“Loki, look at me,” Mobius says softly. “Loki.”

He turns, praying that he doesn’t notice the tears welling in his eyes.

“Experiencing two conflicting emotions is perfectly normal,” Mobius continues, reaching for Loki’s hand and squeezing it. “You can care about Sylvie, and be upset about what she did at the same time.”

“I just-” he tries, his voice cracking. “I just wonder whether she ever cared about me, or whether she was just using me the entire time. I mean, it’s the kind of thing I would do, isn’t it?”

Mobius stares him dead in the eye, his voice firm. “Maybe once, but not now. You know what makes you different from every other Loki?”

“The fact I stole the Tesseract, escaped to the desert, and then helped to take down the man in charge of the universe?”

“No.” Mobius sighs. “Well, yes, I suppose. But what I was trying to say is that you’re different to every Loki because you care. You recognised your faults, and then you tried to change them.

“You said, earlier, ‘Lokis are destined to lose’, and yet here you are. I would count this as a win, wouldn’t you?”

Loki is uncharacteristically silent after that. They sit like that for a few minutes, neither of them speaking, before Loki stands up and disappears into the kitchen, taking the plates with him. Mobius sighs, reaching for the TV remote and turning the channel to some random movie.

When Loki returns a few minutes later, he sits straight down next to Mobius. They watch the movie - something about little fluffy monsters - together, not finding the need to speak.

It’s only by the time Loki’s head has drooped onto Mobius’ shoulder that the silence is broken. He drags the blanket over the sleepy Loki that’s attached itself to him, grinning at how adorable he finds the ferocious god.

“Thank you,” Loki mumbles, only half-conscious, and they both know he isn’t only talking about the blanket.

{o0o}

This time, when Loki wakes up, he knows the bed he lies in is his own. He frowns, not remembering getting into bed, before realising that Mobius must have carried him upstairs again.

If anyone asked him, he would say that he had fallen asleep because of all the magic he had used to renovate during the day, but that wouldn’t be the truth. No, he’d be a little more hesitant to admit that their little cottage by the beach feels like the safest place he has ever stayed. Besides, emotions are exhausting.

He sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes and checking the little clock by his bedside. 9:24, it reads, which isn’t too-

“Loki?” a sleepy voice says from beside him, and he has to stop himself from leaping out of the bed in surprise.

Because somehow, in the few minutes he has been awake, he has failed to notice that he is not alone in the room. Next to him, tucked neatly under the covers, is Mobius, Captain America pajamas and all.

Loki wrinkles his nose at the choice of outfit, but doesn’t voice his opinion. “What - did I fall asleep again?”

“Mmm,” Mobius hums, eyes sliding shut again. “‘S too early, go back to sleep.”

Okay, Loki’s pretty sure his heart just melted slightly. “I don’t need as much sleep as you,” he replies gently. “But you should lie in.”

“Fine,” Mobius complains, rolling over. “But I’m stealing your pillows.”

Loki can’t help but grin at the ridiculous sight - Mobius M. Mobius, formerly one of the most prestigious members of an elite organisation, spread starfish-style across their bed in his Avengers pajamas.

(Although, Loki supposes, the actual Avengers won’t exist for another twenty or so years, thanks to their time travel shenanigans.)

He slips into the hallway, leaving the door ajar behind him, before rummaging around in the bags they had shoved in the study yesterday without bothering to unpack. It only takes a few minutes to find the item he’s looking for, and it takes even less time to sneak back into their bedroom, his footsteps entirely silent.

Click! Loki smirks from behind the disposable camera and sneaks back out of the room, hoping that Mobius doesn’t wake up. Just because he doesn’t want a throne anymore doesn’t mean that he isn’t the God of Mischief- surely, Mobius should be expecting at least a few harmless pranks.

It’s a nice morning - cool, but in that way that suggests it might get much warmer later in the day - so Loki decides to go for a walk. He has barely made it past the second house in their row when a familiar face pops up from behind a hedge, waving wildly.

“Hey! I know you - blue box guy!”

Loki blinks a few times, trying to place the man in front of him. “Casey?”

“Yeah!” he exclaims, hurrying out of his front gate. “You stole my drink.”

“Sorry,” Loki replies automatically, before shaking his head. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“Oh, you would not believe the week I have had,” Casey begins, waving his arm dramatically. “So I’ve been behind a desk my entire life, right? And then Mobius comes along, and he’s all like ‘Everyone who works for the TVA is a variant and the Timekeepers aren’t real!’ So there’s a bit of a fight - not everyone believes him, you see, and I had no idea what to think - and then a load of people come back from a field mission saying they saw Judge Renslayer as a high school principal!”

“Really,” Loki says drily, trying to keep up with the man’s incessant babbling.

“Yeah! So then Mobius takes over, just for a while, and he says that there are two Loki variants who are gonna take down whoever is behind the TVA, and he comes up with a plan - the people who still want to work there answer to B-15 and do whatever they want to, or you can retire to a few different locations in a few different times! And I figured, ‘Gosh, I nearly died twice in the span of ten minutes and that was scary so I should probably make sure my life has meant something,’ and also a multiverse sounds like a lot of paperwork, so. Here I am!”

Loki is silent for a few seconds, still trying to process all the information that Casey managed to spit out at an alarmingly fast rate. “Wait. So, everyone who lives here used to work for the TVA?”

Casey nods. “This row of houses, yeah. ‘1991 Beach’ was the most popular retirement option - I was pretty lucky to get one of these spots.”

“Huh,” is just about all Loki can manage.

“And guess what, criminal whose name I don’t know!” Casey exclaims excitedly. “I met a fish the other day.”

Loki raises an eyebrow, amused. “Did you, now?”

“Yep! Which, uh, makes your threat much more vivid.” Casey shudders.

“Don’t worry, I don’t kill people anymore,” Loki says, and realises that that is probably the truth. “Sorry about that, and for stealing your drink.”

Casey shrugs. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

“I should head back, but it was nice to see you again, Casey.” Loki turns back to their house, his feet slipping slightly in the sand. “Oh, and, by the way - my name is Loki.”

He turns his back and walks away before he can see the look on Casey’s face, but if the sharp intake of breath he hears is anything to go by, he has certainly succeeded in surprising his new neighbour.

When he gets back, Mobius is awake, shuffling around the kitchen in his pajamas. “Morning, sunshine,” he greets as Loki appears in the doorway, sniffing the air.

“Breakfast?” he asks hopefully, and Mobius laughs.

“Yup. Full English, I thought. Did you have a nice walk?”

Loki perches on the edge of the table, smiling. “I didn’t get particularly far. I had an… interesting conversation with Casey, though.”

“Oh, I remember him. Bit weird, if memory serves,” Mobius responds, scrunching his nose as he cracks two eggs into the frying pan. “Wait, how do you know him?”

Loki scratches the back of his head. “I may, uh - I may have threatened to ‘gut him like a fish’. And then I stole his drink and poured it into your salad.”

Mobius raises an eyebrow. “Wow, okay.”

“In my defense, he didn’t know what a fish was until he moved here. And, I was part of the reason he retired, so.”

“How did he not know what a fish- You know what,” he replies, shaking his head as he turns back to the stove. “I don’t care.”

Loki turns the radio in the corner on with a flick of his wrist, and they are both content to sit and enjoy the quiet morning while Mobius cooks. In no time at all, they are sitting across from each other, two plates of food in front of them.

Picking a piece of eggshell out of his food, Loki warily takes a bite. “Did you have any plans for today?”

“As a matter of fact,” Mobius responds with an excited grin, “I do.”

It turns out, Mobius’ plans involve him packing a backpack and eagerly dragging Loki down the beach to a small jetty. There, waiting for them on the end of the small pier, is a jet ski.

Loki grins. “So that's why you chose the beach.”

Mobius grins, dumping the bag on the side and fishing his keys out of his pockets. “I have read about these things every day for almost the entirety of what I can remember, and I’m finally getting to go on one. Are you coming?”

“Of course,” Loki answers, and he clambers on behind Mobius.

“Hang on,” he shouts over the engine, and Loki wraps his arms around his waist. “You ready?”

“I’m starting to think this might be a bad- woah!”

Before Loki can even finish his statement, they’re off. Mobius soon gets the hang of it, zipping around the bay and whooping. Loki can’t help but smile - sure, he isn’t nearly as bothered about jet skis as Mobius is, but the man’s excitement is contagious. Besides, there is a certain freedom to it; he can feel the wind in his hair and taste the salt on his lips.

Suddenly, Mobius attempts to do a sharp turn, jolting them both with absolutely no warning. Loki tries to hang on, clinging tightly onto his chest, but the movement catches him by surprise and he ends up in the water.

Mobius turns the jet ski around, slowly pulling up next to (the now very wet) god. “Sorry,” he says, but he doesn’t sound very apologetic.

“Maybe I’ll stick to sunbathing,” Loki suggests as Mobius hauls him back onto the ski before dropping him off at the jetty.

“Are you sure?” he asks, clearly torn between having the time of his life and leaving Loki on his own.

“Of course I’m sure,” he answers. “I think I’ll survive an hour or two on my own. Besides, I don’t want to ruin your fun by vomiting all over you.”

Mobius pulls a face. “Maybe it’s for the best, then. I won’t go far, I promise.”

“Go!” Loki says, waving his arm at his friend as he picks up their bag. “Have some fun. You’ve earned it. I think we both have.”

Hours later, when the sun has started to set over the horizon, the two men find themselves lazing on the beach next to each other. Mobius slips a chocolate wrapper into the book he’s reading and places it down next to him, turning to his companion.

“Loki,” he begins, staring out at the sea. “Did you ever think you would settle down like this?”

“Never,” Loki answers, without any hesitation.

“Me neither.”

In the distance, there is the faint smell of cherry pie - perhaps one of their neighbours is cooking. A seagull swoops by overhead, landing on a fence a few feet behind them and bobbing about. If you look closely enough, you can see the ripples on the top of the water; the only clue that there are fish below the surface.

“We make a strange pair, don’t we?” Mobius muses, watching the sky turn from blue to orange to pink.

Loki hums. “That’s why we’re perfect for each other.”

There’s no argument to be made against that in Mobius’ mind, so they sit together, not at the end of the world, but at the beginning of one.

THE END.

tag list! ask to be added or removed :D

@tiredgayemoweeb / @idrilearfalas / @consulting-supernatural / @doomeccentric / @lyriumwolf / @peterspattersons / @inconceivablelife / @sunsetcurve123 / @i-am-the-trash-duchess / @hermes-creature / @alexmalikplays / @hisfishfingersandcustard

#lokius #loki #loki spoilers #mobius #mcu #my writing #syssyb

31 notes · View notes

joel-millerr · 3 years

Text

It All Makes Sense Now

Chapter Five of We Are One When Together (formerly A Mandalorian and a Smuggler)

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 9.8K

Summary: The three of you land on Corvus to find a Jedi, but what starts out as a simple job is quickly turned into a truth you definitely weren’t prepared to face

A/N: okay sorry peeps but no smut in this one...I did say slow burn, right? hahahahaha. there's a bit of fluff towards the end, but this chapter focuses more on the reader's relationship with the force and their conflicting feelings, but it's not all bad, we have a special guest in the next two chapters! besides that... this basically a shit ton of angst. also, I split this chapter in two so the next update should be within the next week?

Warnings: ummmm there’s a small mention of torture? (like in the ep the Jedi with the prisoners strung up outside the magistrate’s gate but other than that... I don't think there’s anything but pls tell me if there’s something I missed!)

-----

Your body jolts awake to the sudden drop out of hyperspace. Panic quickly sets into your blood as you try to get your bearings, but once you see Mando sitting quietly in his chair along with the Child sitting on the control panel just to his right, your heartbeat steadies, and a wave of relief washes over you. Using the heels of your palms to rub at your eyes and clear your vision, you catch sight of the planet Mando had mentioned just before takeoff on Tatooine through the transparisteel.

“Ah, good. You’re awake.” He addresses as he hears you stir, still keeping the visor glued to the view in front of him.

“Mmm,” You groan back, still somewhat asleep and unable to use your words to answer him properly.

“Corvus, this is the place,” Mando’s voice cuts through the gentle hum of the ship. “I’ve detected a beacon.” You’re about to answer him when you realize that he wasn’t even talking to you to begin with. He was talking to the kid.

The Child looks up at him, and coos as if they’re having a conversation with each other even though they clearly don’t speak the same language, and don’t understand what the other is saying.

“I’m gonna start the landing cycle. You better get back in your seat.”

He looks up again at Mando, but doesn’t budge from where he’s currently seated. Turning his gaze to one of the levers on the control panel, he stares at the durasteel ball just atop of the handle. You’re not sure why the kid loves that ball so much, but it clearly means a lot to him because you’ve seen the way he gets upset or fussy whenever Mando tries to take it away from him.

“Hey,” He warns—not in an aggressive way, but a stern way like a child being scolded by their parent. “What did I tell you? Back in your seat.”

This time the kid listens, letting out a chuff of air before crawling down the little ledge he was seated on previously and gently scuttling back to the seat to your left.

Maker, your body aches. Sleeping in the chair every night has seriously done a number on your bones and muscles. Twisting your upper body and using the back of the chair to hold yourself in place, a series of smalls cracks echo through the cockpit, and it somewhat releases a bit of the tautness in your back and along your spine. Suddenly becoming aware that you haven’t taken a sanisteam in…well you’re not sure exactly how long it’s been since you left Tatooine, but it’s definitely been long enough; you could seriously benefit from one right now.

Using your palms to push yourself up to your feet by your knees, you inform Mando you’ll be heading down to clean yourself up. “I’ll be ready to go once we land.”

“All right.” He says matter-of-factly.

You wait a couple of seconds before moving, elongating your arms above your head before bringing one of them behind you and stretching out your bicep, holding your elbow with your other arm. You repeat the process with the opposite arm and feel your body slowly coming back to life. A sanisteam is starting to sound better and better with every second. Your feet guide you to the ladder and take two rungs at a time, feet hitting the ground in record time. Not even bothering to wait until you reach the fresher, you strip out of your clothes and gather them together in a small pile atop one of the crates lingering around in the hull.

Once in the fresher, you turn on the water to almost the hottest setting possible. It stings your skin at first, but your body quickly acclimates to the heat, muscles slowly relaxing in response to the gentle massage the showerhead exudes as it hits you, releasing the stiffness from your body. Truthfully, you could stay in this tiny space for hours and just let the water continue to cascade down your skin until your fingertips were wrinkled like a Dressellian prune, but you don’t want to use up all of the hot water since you’re not the only one on this ship who needs to sanisteam. The longer the water pressure falls onto your upper body, you begin to feel a sharp pain on your left shoulder, and you’re forced to recoil from the water in an effort to stop the throbbing ache. Inspecting your naked form to find the source of the discomfort, you notice a large, plump purple bruise nestled between the crook of your neck and the top of your shoulder. It’s a dark shade of purple, with swirls of yellow and forest green surrounding it. When the Kriff—

Oh.

It suddenly comes back to you.

The firm grip on your shoulder.

The feeling of Mando’s cock on your tongue.

His moans.

Fuck, it’s enough to make your own groan echo through the walls of the refresher.

Maker, pull yourself together!

Giving yourself a gentle slap on the cheek in an effort to knock those filthy thoughts out of your mind and knowing the Crest will be landing in the next couple of minutes, you quickly wash the grime off your body while trying to be mindful of your bruise, and rinse yourself off before grabbing your only remaining clean pair of clothes left, dressing hurriedly just as you hear his footsteps reach the top of the ladder. Your clothes stick to your wet skin, and it’s slightly uncomfortable, but you try not to pay too much attention to it; you’ll dry up eventually.

The Mandalorian descends the ladder, the Child burrowed in one arm, then hands him off to you as he heads to the armory to grab his pulse rifle.

“Hey,” He says before calling your name to get your attention. Turning his body towards you, his arm extends out in your direction, a blaster in his hand. Your eyes shift down to the gun, taking notice of it before your brows pull together tightly, shifting your gaze back up to him in confusion.

“You should probably take this back. Just in case,” He gestures the gun at you, holding the barrel of it so you can grab the handle. It’s a small act, giving you back your blaster, but there’s an unspoken message as he hands you your gun. He now trusts you enough not to shoot him and run off, and at the same time, this gives you the reassurance you needed that he no longer views you as just a quarry, but as his partner.

Putting the kid down for a moment to grab your bag and ruffle through it to retrieve your thigh holster, you strap it around your leg and plop the blaster into the pouch. Once you turn around to pick the Kid back up, you notice he’s already by the back ramp with Mando, both waiting for you to catch up with them.

You head down the ramp first, walking a few feet away from the Crest and taking an immediate scan of the area, as you always do whenever you’re in new territory. It comes at almost as a shock to you that Mando doesn’t instantly head down after you. Instead, he stays at the top of the ramp with the kid, waiting for you to give them the ‘okay’. The sun can barely penetrate the dense amount of cloud here, the area is covered in fog as far as the eye can see, making you shift anxiously. The faint cry of the native beasts’ boom in the distance, making your skin crawl.

Mando’s landed the Crest in a small clearing. The trees appear to be snags—lifeless due to its climate and the lack of sunlight, making the whole planet even more eerie. The quicker you meet the Jedi, the quicker you can get off this planet.

“Not much to see here,” You announce, slightly disappointed by the scenery. When you don’t immediately see a threat, you gesture with your hand that it’s safe to come down, and so he does. The fact that Mando now acknowledges the routine you’ve created isn’t lost on you. In truth, it makes your heart swoon because you both know that he doesn’t needto wait for you. Mando’s more than capable of checking for threats himself, and defending you both if someone tries to ambush you, but he knows it puts you at ease to check for yourself, and the fact that he’s indulging you in this small service shows you he’s more of a softy than he lets on.

As Mando walks towards you, he hears the kid huffing behind him and turns his body to face the little baby waddling down the ramp before falling back on his bum. You make out a small sphere in his hands and realize it’s the knob from the lever in the cockpit. When did he snatch that and how did Mando not see him take it?

“What did I say about that?” He disciplines, taking the ball from his hands and holding it out in front of him. “This needs to stay in the ship.” The Child looks up at him fondly, chattering incoherently as he watches Mando place the ball in his utility belt.

“Never had dealings with a Jedi before,” He admits before leaning down to pick up the Child and placing him in the makeshift pouch he designed for the baby that’s strapped across his cuirass. “Let’s head into town. See if we can pick up a lead.”

He walks ahead of you just by a couple feet. Your hand hovers over your blaster the entire time, body on edge as you both make your way through the forest. The air is hot and humid, almost suffocating—you can only imagine how hot Mando must feel under all that armor. Your clothes stick to you like glue, a mix of water from the sanisteam as well as from the damp air. Every now and then, the Child babbles nonsense and Mando answers him like he knows exactly what the kid is saying. “Don’t worry, Kid. We’re okay.”

It’s quite endearing, seeing such a gentle side to the Mandalorian. You know not many people have had the opportunity to see these little moments, making this that much more special. Watching two beings, appearing to have nothing in common, and clearly coming from two very different upbringings, but having such a deep connection you’re not sure you’ll ever fully understand is quite a beautiful sight. It makes you appreciate these moments so much more. Mando’s letting you in on these precious exchanges, and you’ll cherish them for as long as you live.

After walking for what feels like hours, off in the distance you catch sight of a giant wall made of duracrete, and can faintly make out little blobs at the top of the wall; soldiers by the looks of it.

“A fortified city?” You ask him.

“Seems like it.” He answers as you draw closer to the gates. “Let me do the talking, all right?” He says, more of an order than an actual statement, but you choose not to argue. Mando usually knows better than you, and you’ve shown that you have a tendency to lose your temper, therefore he’s definitely the better mediator between you two.

As you both appear from the edge of the forest, the guards atop the parapet flock to the front gate, their rifles pointed at you. Mando stops just a few metres shy of the gate, waiting. A man suddenly appears, studying you both.

“State your business.” He shouts, standoffish.

“Been tracking for a few days,” The Mandalorian begins to say. You continue studying the gunslinger as well as the other soldiers whose rifles are still pointed at you. Hand continuing to hover merely inches above your blaster, your body fighting the urge to turn this into a fight. “Looking for a layover.”

The man shifts his gaze between you and Mando, clearly debating whether or not to shoot you both where you stand.

“Nice armor.” He jests.

Kriff, you don’t like the look of this. You’re both severely outgunned, and despite the beskar amour Mando wears, that doesn’t guarantee that you’ll live through this if a fight ensues.

The man to your left doesn’t answer, opting to gauge the gunslinger’s demeanor, waiting for him to press you again. “You a hunter, then?”

“That’s right.”

“Both of you?” His stare turns to you, so you glare back at him, refusing to back down and cower under his own piercing scowl.

“Yes.” You hiss through gritted teeth.

The helmet turns slightly in your direction as if warning you to watch your tone. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you straighten out your shoulders and let your arm drop to your side, no longer hovering over your blaster.

“Guild?”

“Last I checked.” Mando answers, a glint of annoyance is hidden under the deepness of his baritone.

The man studies you two for a couple more seconds, then orders the guards to open the gate. Letting out a deep breath through your lips, you start to feel like this will be the beginning of a very tense day. Better to keep quiet and let Mando handle this, since you tend to shoot first then ask questions later. Your partner is much more of the level-headed one—who would have thought that?

The city itself is small, and very quiet—way too quiet for any normal city. Every city and village you’ve visited have been vibrant and loud, with native villagers and visitors mingling together, but here? The residents walk silently, keeping their heads down, and only peeking at you both through the corners of their eyes. The guards walk around, hands planted firmly on their rifles, as if to be looking for trouble. Immediately, your bones tense and that anger you have trouble controlling begins to bubble up inside you. These villagers seem trapped—Maker, even the kids aren’t running around. They’re stuck to their parents like glue, never taking a single step away from them. This is a city under a gruesome Magistrate.

As you make your way down the main road, Mando catches sight of a vendor and heads for their stand. “Pardon me, vendor, have you heard of anyone…” But as he draws closer to the elderly woman behind the table, they quickly turn their back to you and disappear down a quiet alley.

Eyebrows pulling tightly, your jaw clenches, completely astounded at how these people are too afraid to even talk to you. What kind of monster forces its citizens to live in constant fear to the point of being too afraid to speak to travelers?

Before you know it, you’re following the vendor down the alley when you see another elderly man bending down and whispering to some younglings. Your neck cranes to the side, and you walk over to him cautiously, hoping you won’t startle him.

“Excuse me,”

Once he catches you in his peripherals, he ushers the kids away before rising to his feet and turning his body to you.

“We need some information.” You announce, trying to keep your voice as gentle as you can despite the white-hot rage cooking up in your veins. “We’re looking for someone. Could you help—”

“Please,” he pleads as he holds a palm out in front of him to stop you from elaborating, voice quiet as to not draw any attention to himself. “Do not speak to any of us.”

“Look,” Mando interjects, his attitude becoming less patient as time ebbs on. “I just need to know—”

Before he can finish his sentence, you’re approached by two armed guards. Your hand flies to your holster, and Mando quickly shoots his hand out to stop you.

“The Magistrate wants to see you.” Their voices come out heavily distorted by their voice-box. It’s deep and frightening—no wonder these villagers are terrified. Even you are somewhat taken aback by their aggressive inflection, you can only imagine how these people must feel. Completely helpless and cut off from the anyone else, they don’t have a fighting chance even if they wanted to overthrow their government.

The old man leans over and takes a step back as one of the guards takes a step towards him. Your body cuts the droid off, putting yourself between the both of you. They’re wearing what appears to be a gas mask, but you stare at him, imagining where his eyes would be and continue to burn your own eyes into him, full of poison and anger. Inside, you’re begging him to make a move; to give you an excuse to shoot him right where he stands, but Mando’s visor snaps towards you, shooting you a warning as to not do something stupid. “Let’s go.” He says to you.

You follow Mando and the first guard down the main street, keeping an eye out on that other guard that treads behind you. The soldier leads you to another gate and kriff, you’re completely dumbfounded by what’s in front of you.

Along the cobblestoned street just ahead of the second gate are…prisoners. Prisoners strung up on various poles with a tiny podium to stand on, surrounded by what looks to be some kind of electrical barrier around them. The hostages are disturbingly frail, with many of them scarred with markings of fresh and old burn wounds you assume are from the bars circling around them. One man nearly doubles over and is electrocuted, its power so strong you can see the outline of their bones when the voltage hits their skin. You shudder at the sight of them, feeling your heart drop to your stomach.

They whisper desperately, begging for help but Mando continues walking, only offering one of the prisoners a quick glance. You stop in front of one of the hostages, eyes looking up at him as he cries, pleading over and over again for your help. Your jaw slacks, wanting to say something, but knowing nothing you say will matter. You can’t help them, at least not right now. Making a mental note to tell Mando once you head back to the Crest that you will free these prisoners, your eyes meet with the man’s own droopy, hooded lids, and hope they somehow can understand.

“Hey, girl,” A guard yells out. Looking down at the ground, you hear his heavy footsteps walk towards you, each step getting louder and louder as he nears you. “Keep moving.” He warns.

Biting your tongue and white knuckling your fists at your sides, you catch up with Mando, choosing no longer to wait till you are alone to whisper, “We’re freeing these prisoners before we leave,” through gritted teeth.

Mando’s helmet dips forward just enough for you to see it. The faster you find this Jedi, the sooner these prisoners can be freed. Once the first gate closes behind you, the second one opens and your jaw downright drops.

Firstly, there’s a fucking moat in front of you. When you and Mando were walking through the woodland in search of the village, you hadn’t even come across any body of water, and here the Magistrate is living with a full-on fucking moat. If that wasn’t enough, Maker there are trees here—not just stumps or snag trees, but actual trees flourishing in her small haven. They appear to be some sort of pine tree, but you can’t be sure since you’re too far away from them. Somehow even the air feels different here. Logically, you know that makes no sense, but it must be due to the contrast between how the Magistrate lives compared to how her own people live. There are hostages strung up, and being tortured, citizens who are too scared to even talk to you, living in tiny homes with little to no resources, and this one person is living with such excess and wealth, all the while quite literally separating themselves from the city’s population. It’s disgusting, it’s totalitarian, and the thought of people living in such horrible conditions is making your head spin.

It’s not that you were naïve enough to think there weren’t people living in such awful conditions, it was just that you had never actually seen this firsthand, so it was easy to forget that not everyone was as fortunate as you. Sure, water was a luxury back when you were just a child, but you had never been oppressed or discouraged from being a child. You had the luxury of walking around the city, and not having the stress or fear that any minute now a guard could kill you for doing something as normal as talking to another person. Not knowing how many more planets are under such control, it makes you want to search this entire galaxy and save every single citizen from this kind of barbarity.

The Magistrate is standing by the edge of her moat, appearing to throw something in the water. Maker, if she has fish in this moat, you’ll be… literally fucking speechless.

She addresses Mando to come forward, so he does. You opt to stay by the gate—deciding that it’s would be too difficult to hide the anger on your face and choose to wait for him to return.

“So she wants you to kill the Jedi?”

“Yes.” He says before putting the Child down gingerly on a smooth boulder.

According to the Magistrate, the Jedi is hiding somewhere in the forest, so now you and Mando have been searching aimlessly through the vast amount of woodland for any sign of a Jedi—whatever what means, but after what felt like hours of searching, your feet were throbbing. After ten minutes of begging him to take a small break, he finally gave in.

Plopping yourself down next to the Child, you continue to pester Mando with more questions. “And she’ll give you that beskar staff if you kill them?”

A drawn-out sign emits from the helmet. “Yes.”

“But we’re not doing that, right?” The question coming out rhetorically.

“No.” He answers curtly.

“Okay, good.” The conversation goes silent for a few seconds, and then your lips are moving again. “I really want to head back in there and shoot that woman right between the eyes.”

A noise comes from him that you’ve never heard before. Was…was that a fucking laugh? Is he fucking laughing at you? “You wouldn’t even get that close before one of her droids would shoot you down.”

“Believe it or not, Mando, but I’m a pretty decent fi—”

All of a sudden, Mando turns his body to yours and throws a gloved hand over your mouth. A small yelp escapes you but is muffled by leather. Your own hand flies to his, struggling to remove his kriffing hand from your face, tugging and trying to pull away from him.

“Stop!” He whispers, before raising a finger to his helmet where his mouth would be, ordering you to be quiet. Giving him a nod, he lets go of you, and presses a button on the side of his helmet then pivots around, scanning the area for lifeforms. Off in the distance, a large beast trots along the forest edge and Mando’s body relaxes.

“False alarm,”

“What the hell, Mando?” You force out through jagged breaths.

“Why are you here?”

Both your bodies whip around and catch the sight of a female Togruta standing just a few metres away from you. Her blue stripped lekku are enlarged around her round face and extend all the way to her midthighs, giving an indication that she’s of a mature age, although her face is clean of wrinkles, her features still smooth, suggesting she’s still well within her prime. Thick montrals pointing towards the sky like mountain tops, her orange skin reminds you of Tatooine sunsets—warm, and deep. White pigments outlining her cheeks, forehead, and eyebrows, Maker, she is stunning, and intimidating.

In her hands, she’s holding what appears to be two beaming swords. Not unlike the electrical barrier that the Magistrate had her prisoners surrounded by, although this type of energy looks much more elegant and impressive. Its luminescent white light purrs, you can hear the humming even though you’re a couple metres away from her. You’ve never seen a weapon quite like it. It’s much more of sophisticated weapon than you’ve been privy to seeing, but it’s exceptionally beautiful.

“Ahsoka Tano?” Mando asks, holding his hands out in front of him, taking a very cautious step towards her. She tenses, one of the laser swords comes up and she holds it across her chest, keeping the other steadily by her side. Your hand placed firmly on your blaster strapped to your thigh, heart thumping in your chest, you wait for her to attack.

“Who are you?” She says cautiously, keeping that glowing spear between Mando and herself.

“Bo-Katan sent me.” He says warily.

The Togruta stares at Mando, then to you before straightening out her back, her weapons’ beaming white blades retracting into their handles.

“We need to talk.” Mando clarifies, standing up straight.

“Well, I hope it’s about them,” She answers kindly, shooting you a quick wink before taking a step towards you.

Crossing your arms and lips forming a tight line, your head jerks back when she responds.

“What do you mean, “them?”

Mando retreats to get the Child, and holds him with one arm, choosing to stand almost directly between you and Ahsoka. “Is there somewhere we can talk?”

Her posture changes from weary to inviting, hooking her weapons back on her hips, her back untensing and taking a step back. “Come.”

You and Mando follow her through the thick, dense woods, nearly tripping and twisting your ankle trying to avoid the roots that are nestled above the dirt, or stumps that have fallen over and are lying on the ground.

She finds a spot not too covered in trees, with a couple of boulders lying around in a circle. In the middle are embers from an old fire that you assume she made for herself. She sits down on one of the rocks, then you and Mando follow suit. He places the Child gently between himself and Ahsoka, and presses a button on his vambrace, causing a flame to shoot out from his wrist, reigniting the ashes. Instead of waiting for either of them to speak, you begin questioning Ahsoka.

“So,” You say, head craning in her direction. “You’re a Jedi?”

Ahsoka lets out a small chuckle, eyes shifting towards the ground. You can vaguely make out the blaze in the reflection of her eyes. “No, I’m not a Jedi, not anymore.”

“Is there anything you can tell me about this little one?” Mando questions her, jerking his neck to the left where the green baby is perched between them. She turns her head towards the Child, and almost instantaneously, his giant ears perk up, big eyes peering up at her, uttering unintelligibly.

“Can I have a moment alone with him?” She asks you and Mando. He doesn’t say anything in response, but stands up straight and walks away, not once looking back. You’re a few seconds late, but finally rise to your own feet before taking one last look at Ahsoka. She smiles at you and nods. You hear her voice and at first believe she’s actually spoken to you, but quickly realize her lips haven’t moved.

It’s okay.

Surely, you’re imagining things. It’s not possible to hear someone’s voice so clearly in your mind unless they actually said something to you…right?

Pushing the thought out of your mind, you turn on your heel, and you walk over to where Mando is pacing back and forth. He’s quiet as usual, but his body language is screaming. He’s tense, boots retracing the same steps over and over, shoulders square and hands fidgeting by his thighs. The apprehension, his nervousness—it’s practically seeping from him. It’s not something you ever thought you’d see—Mando anxious about a situation, given that he’s usually a lot better at keeping his cool under pretty much every single stressful situation.

At first, you think about asking him if he’s okay, or showing him that you notice his tentativeness, but it’s quickly shoved out of your mind when you remember how little he likes to talk about himself or how he’s feeling. You know firsthand that he prefers to stay silent rather than admit what’s going on inside his head.

Choosing to sit on a tree stump that’s fallen over on the ground, you continue to study Ahsoka and the Child. They stare at each other for a couple minutes not saying anything, just offering each other a series of smiles, gazes, and tilts of the head. As you continue to watch them, it’s almost as if you can hear them, which you know logically makes no sense. It’s very faint and muffled, taking all the concentration you can muster but you swear to the Maker you can hear them speaking to each other. The harder you squint, the clearer their voices get. However, it’s when you close your eyes and pull your brows together tightly, giving them your full attention that their voices become almost as clear as day.

His name is Grogu.

He was raised at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

Order 66.

What’s order 66?

Before you can make out anything else, Ahsoka’s voice pulls you out of your concentration, calling you both over. Jumping to your feet in record time, you reach out and grab hold of Mando’s vambrace. He stills at your touch.

“Come,” You say gently, motioning your head over to the two by the fire.

The deep breath he lets out pulls rough from his vocoder, you can feel the trepidation in his body spilling into his lungs. He trails behind you and when you both reach them; you sit back down on the rock you were seated on before, but Mando chooses to stand instead.

“Has he…said anything? Do you…understand him?” He asks Ahsoka curiously, but with a hint of worry in his baritone.

“In a way. Grogu and I can read each other’s thoughts.”

“Grogu?” Mando’s voice is gentle but still low, and almost immediately, the Child’s ears perk up once again, and his little head jerks to face him, a gentle noise of glee escapes him.

“Yes,” Ahsoka says, smiling. “That’s his name, but you already knew that.”

“I—” He begins to say but Ahsoka cuts him off.

“No, not you. Her.”

Both Ahsoka and Mando’s head turn to you. Leg bouncing anxiously off the ground, your jaw slacks to answer, but not entirely sure how to answer. “Uh—Yeah, I mean he didn’t exactly tell me but he…kind of did?”

“What do you mean?” Mando presses you.

One of your hands rub the back of your neck and your eyes trail away from the two people staring you down to look at your feet. Clearing your throat, you answer uncertainly. “I…don’t know how he did it or how I was able to understand it.”

“Are you both still able to wield the Force?” Ahsoka asks curiously.

“The Force?” You repeat in confusion.

“You mean, his powers?” The Mandalorian chimes in.

“The Force is what gives him his powers. It’s an energy field created by all living things. It also allows us to communicate with each other.” She clarifies, somewhat answering your question but simultaneously confusing you even more. What the hell is ‘The Force’?

“You’re saying he used ‘The Force’ to communicate with me?”

“In a way, yes. We can communicate with others who are Force-sensitive, although it takes a great deal of training and discipline to wield it properly.”

Does this mean…?

Is she saying you’re…?

Force-sensitive?

Ahsoka sighs before addressing you again. “I sense a lot of conflict in you,”

“I’m just finding all of this very hard to believe,” You admit.

Ahsoka acknowledges your stunned expression with a gentle nod, before shifting the conversation towards the real issue—Grogu. Turning her eyes away from you, she now speaks to Mando. “Grogu was raised and trained by many Masters at the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. At the end of the Clone Wars, when the Jedi were deemed traitors of the Republic, they were hunted down and killed. Grogu was smuggled out of the Temple beforehand, and has been forced to hide his abilities in order to survive over the years.”

Peeking over to observe Grogu, your heart aches. How could anyone want to harm him? He’s just a child, an innocent creature. “Do you know of anyone else like him?”

“I’ve only ever known one other being like this.” Her eyes trail off to gaze into the fire once again. “A wise Jedi Master named Yoda. I didn’t know others like him existed.”

“My task was to bring him to a Jedi. Can you train him?”

Ahsoka lets out a deep breath before answering. “The Jedi Order fell a long time ago.”

“So did the Empire, yet it still hunts us.” Your voice comes out more aggressive than you intended, but you’re desperate for answers.

Ahsoka looks down to the Child once again. His eyes flutter shut, exhaustion overcoming his little body until he all but bows his head to fall asleep. “Let him rest for now, I’ll test him in the morning.”

Mando’s helmet dips forward in agreement. He moves around the fire and makes his way over to Grogu and picks him up gingerly, holding him close to his cuirass and motioning his head in the direction of the Crest. Humming in response and rising to your own feet, you make to follow behind Mando back to ship when Ahsoka places a hand on your forearm.

“A moment?”

“Uh, sure,” You answer hesitantly. “I’ll meet you back at the ship.” You call over to Mando.

He huffs in response before walking away, Grogu fast asleep in his arms. Sitting back down, you wait for Ahsoka to speak.

“You’re troubled. I can sense it.”

Jaw dropping, you look for the words to accurately describe just how confused and in disbelief you are. Gesticulating around you, your voice is soft and low. “How—how is this possible?” A laugh escapes your lips. “I’m just a mecha—smuggler.” You catch yourself, the word barely leaving your lips. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

Her own lips form a tight line, as if she’s seen others react the same way. “It’s unclear how the Force works, and there’s no definitive way of explaining who has the gift and who hasn’t. We’re just…burdened with it.” Her eyes look down at the ground. It’s evident there’s some unresolved regret and sadness she’s been carrying for years, and you can’t help but wonder what could have possibly happened to her for her to feel this way.

“You said ‘I’m not a Jedi, not anymore’. What did you mean by that?”

She takes a deep breath, exhaling through her nose before speaking. “I left the order when I was young. It… wasn’t what I thought it was anymore.” Her voice trails off.

“What was it supposed to be? Who were the Jedi?” You don’t mean to ask so many questions, but there are so many pieces to this puzzle that you don’t understand yet. You’re supposedly predestined to be a Jedi, but you know nothing about them. Stories of the Jedi weren’t told to you when you were a child. It was treated more like a moment in history that no one wanted to speak of—like it was a stain on the galaxy that the majority of folks wanted to forget.

“We were trained to be keepers of the peace, but that all changed when the Clone Wars began. Jedi were suddenly soldiers and thrown into battle, required to fight for the Republic and keep the Separatists from expanding.”

“You fought?”

Ahsoka’s voice is low, like your question that thrown her back into the war, reliving all the pain from her youth. “I was just a Padawan when I joined the war effort. At first it was easy to say we were fighting to maintain the peace, but after a while, it almost felt like we became the ones raging the war. All of a sudden, the Order just didn’t feel like it once was…” She goes quiet for a moment, trying to find the right words to describe her conflicting feelings. “It changed.”

Your hand reaches out to hold hers. Once your skin touches her, immense pain overwhelms you. It’s haunting, a sudden hole fills your body with anger, regret, sadness. There’s a male voice, low and threatening, taunting her as he hisses.

Why did you leave?

You abandoned me!

Do you know what I’ve become?

Hand recoiling away, your left with the same empty feeling as her. It’s unnerving, experiencing something that hasn’t even happened to you yet somehow able to feel it so deeply, as if you know who this man is, but it gives you an insight as to just how tortured she must be feeling, and why she’s alone on this planet.

“Who…who was that?” Your voice is strained, shuddering out little breaths.

“Someone who meant a great deal to me.” Ahsoka’s face softens immediately, a somber smile develops on her lips, losing that hard, stoic demeanor she’s kept up in front of you and Mando. “An incredibly skilled Jedi Knight. He was my Master.”

“What happened to him?”

Ahsoka’s lungs fill with air, and she takes her time exhaling before answering you. “He fell to the Dark Side…” Her voice breaks up at the end, and clears her throat, giving the impression that she feels guilty about it, while also trying to regain control of her emotions.

Despite hearing the term ‘Dark Side’ for the first time, you almost instantaneously know what it is. The voice that creeps into your mind, the one that feeds off your anger and emotions, the one that scratches the inside of your brain, hissing to cause harm and feed the deepest parts of yourself that you despise. It all makes sense now.

“I sense it within you.” Her voice barely above a whisper, but clear enough to make your skin crawl. It’s a truth you didn’t know you had been dreading to hear. A truth you yourself had tried to ignore. The part of you that you hated most, finally being noticed by a complete stranger, it triggers something deep inside you, almost confirming your worst fears. You’re a danger, not only to yourself but to anyone around you. It’s suddenly as clear as day why you’ve tried to keep your distance from those you loved ever since your parents’ death. Why you never allowed yourself the luxury of attachments or love. Somehow, you knew that in order to keep yourself and others safe, you needed to put a barrier up, a wall to stop yourself from hurting others.

“I…don’t know how to control it.” Desperation in your voice, it becomes obvious that you’re both struggling to find solace.

“You should get some sleep. We’ll talk more in the morning, okay?” Attempting to put you somewhat at ease, she offers you a smile, although her eyes show you anything but contentment. There’s a sadness in them, like she already knows your fate but is unsure of the proper way of confessing it to you.

Nodding your head slowly, you push yourself to your feet and make a beeline for the Crest. Ahsoka stands, watching you drag your feet back to the ship, then disappears through the fog, and back into the forest.

When you reach the back ramp of the ship, the lights are dimmed to the lowest setting, your legs almost collapsing once you reach the hull from all the trekking throughout the day. Leaning over to the side of the ramp, you press a button on the board by the door and the ramp creaks shut.

The Crest is deafeningly quiet. As you make your way deeper into the ship, you observe Grogu sleeping soundly in his little hammock inside Mando’s bunk. Making sure not to make too much noise on the ladder, you gently head up to the cockpit and find Mando sitting in the pilot’s chair, unsure if he’s sleeping or simply sitting there like a statue which you’ve noticed he’s does from time to time. Upon entering the cockpit, you sigh a little loudly, testing to see if he’s awake.

Practically falling into your seat, you know you should get some sleep, but the mental exhaustion is almost too intense, you can’t seem to get your mind off everything that’s happened. Continuously mulling over what Ahsoka’s said, noting how it makes perfect sense, but not wanting to accept it.

“Are you…all right?” Mando asks you timidly, the deepness of his tone cutting through the low hum of the dimmed lights.

The question bounces around in your mind.

Are you all right?

Just under a couple of hours ago, you had never even heard of ‘The Force’, let alone supposedly have a connection to this intangible entity. Of course, there are things that you’ve done that you couldn’t logically explain, but does that necessarily mean you suddenly have some greater purpose? That you’re this…peacekeeper with an obligation to protect others?

Did your parents know?

Did they keep this a secret from you in order to protect you or were they just as in the dark as you were about this?

Everything you thought you knew about yourself is once again being challenged.

Mechanic.

Smuggler.

Quarry.

Jedi?

How are you supposed to navigate through this? Ahsoka said herself the Jedi were basically wiped out right as the Empire rose to power. What does that mean for you? Is the Empire hunting you down because you’re ‘force-sensitive’?

Certainly, it would be easier to simply put this all behind you. Help Mando with Grogu and then go your separate ways, ignoring what Ahsoka’s told you about being connected to The Force.

Do what you must in order to stay alive.

Keep to yourself just as you’ve always done, and survive.

But…is that the right thing to do? How does one know if the path they’re on is the correct one? It’s not like there’s someone all knowing that you can ask, or seek help from. The only thing you can do is trust your own instincts, go over each possibility and examine them meticulously, and pray to the Maker that you’ll be drawn to one option more than another.

Remembering that Mando’s just asked you a question but not remembering exactly what it was, you hum in your throat. “Hmm?”

Mando swivels his chair around to face you. “Are you all right?”

“It’s funny how we can here for the kid, and now I’m the one having some kind of existential crisis.” Your tone is wry, the ability to mock yourself never waving.

“Yeah.” He answers coolly, probably just because he doesn’t know what else to say. Mando’s not really one to comfort or coddle, unless it’s Grogu but that doesn’t bother you so much. Mando is the way he is, and you wouldn’t change a thing about him.

Before you even realize what you’re doing, you’re rising to your feet, word vomit expelling from your lips.

“I’ve lived my whole life not knowing where I belong. Navigating through various routes, trying to find my purpose and what I’m supposed to be doing, and I was fine with smuggling. I know it wasn’t honorable or strictly legal, but it made me feel better about my place in the galaxy. It felt better than being a mechanic on some rotten planet because at least I was seeing what the galaxy had to offer me, right? But it still couldn’t fill this empty pit I felt in my stomach.” Your breathing is erratic, chest pumping in and out as your heartbeat races.

“And I dealt with that. I did things I regretted but I never allowed myself to dwell on those things because I knew what I had to do in order to survive. Then out of nowhere I’m being hunted by what I thought was the New Republic but oh no surprise!” Your voice becoming almost hysterical, empty laughs punching out of you through jagged breaths. “It’s actually the Empire! Because I now apparently have some connection to an entity that exists in a form that I don’t even understand and have never heard of.

“All the while, I have this voice inside my head that fucking eats away at me. ‘Do this’ and ‘Make them feel pain’, ‘Hurt them like they hurt you’. It’s fucking gnawing at my brain, and I have no fucking idea how to control it or get it to stop. I feel like a monster, like some evil being that will one day just explode and hurt anyone in my path, and it fucking terrifies me because I can’t control it. I can’t fucking control it, Mando.” Your voice is hoarse, speaking so fast your lungs can’t keep up with you, only allowing yourself quick breaths as you begin to feel yourself hyperventilate.

Mando rises to his feet ever so slowly, visor glued to you as you continue to explode.

“What am I supposed to do? Am I supposed to follow down the path of being a Jedi despite not knowing a single fucking thing about them? You heard what Ahsoka said about them. They were almost all wiped out.”

Your hands fly to your face, squeezing your eyes shut so hard, you’re seeing stars, and rubbing the heels of your palms into your skin. Completely overwhelmed by everything, you just want to disappear.

Then, you feel rough, sturdy gloves wrap around your wrists, and gently pulling at them, freeing your hands away from your face. When you finally open your eyes, all you see is Mando’s helmet, the ‘T’ of his visor looking down at you. He doesn’t let go of your wrists, just continues to hold them gingerly, even pulling them towards his chest. You take a step towards him, standing merely inches away from each other. He says nothing, but truthfully, he doesn’t need to. Holding you steady is all he needs to do in order to calm you down. Your breathing is slowly starting to regulate itself, even though your mind is still shouting at you.

Hearing a soft exhale emit through the helmet, Mando speaks quietly and softly. “You’re not a monster.”

“But—”

“We’ve all done things we regret.” He tells you softly. “What matters is that you regret it, which means you’re not a monster, because they don’t regret anything they’ve done.”

Your head dips downward, letting out a deep breath through slightly parted lips, as you begin shaking your head. “What if I hurt you or the kid one day?”

“You won’t.”

“You don’t know—”

“I do,” He says firmly, leaving you no more room to argue.

When you finally look up into the black eye slit of his helmet, you wish you were looking into his eyes. To see him looking back at you would be a blessing right now, but you know better than to ask him to take it off. You don’t know much about Mandalorians, but from the one you do know, he never takes his helmet off, and you wouldn’t dare ask him to break his creed just for you. So, this will have to do.

“Get some sleep.” He says then releases your wrists, letting them fall to your sides.

“I’m not tired,” You mumble.

“Yes, you are.” He argues. “Use the cot downstairs.”

“But that’s where you sleep.”

He turns away from you, sitting back in the pilot’s chair and swiveling it around so you’re facing the back of the seat. “I’ll sleep here. Now, go.”

He leaves no room for argument, and honestly? Finally being able to sleep lying down and not sitting upright in a chair does sound amazing. You head down the ladder without another word, feeling the sudden exhaustion hit you hard. Grogu’s still sound asleep in his hammock, and you wiggle into the tiny sleeping space, being mindful not to touch the hammock or make too much noise that might wake him up, gently pressing on the button on the panel near the door and hearing it woosh shut. Your nostrils fill up instantly with Mando’s smell. Notes of beskar, musk, and his soap fill your sinuses and you take a deep, burning breath, trying to inhale as much Mando as you can in one breath. The voices in your head are still chattering away, but being bundled up in Mando’s blanket and his smell is enough for you to push those noises away and fall asleep to the sound of the Child’s gentle snores.

Grogu’s training begins in the early morning. You’re all gathered around the same place you were last night, but there’s definitely more tension than there was the night before. For starters, you basically had a mental breakdown in front of Mando last night, and you’re feeling pretty guilty and embarrassed about it. You should have been able to keep your emotions in check and under control, but instead you blew up in front of the one person you didn’t want to blow up in front of.

Secondly, today you’ll all be seeing Grogu’s abilities firsthand, and find out just how much training he’s had and what he’s fully capable of doing, and it’s pretty easy to tell that Mando is nervous. The way he carries himself; back tense and his hands balled into fists at his sides, shifting uncomfortably as he watches Grogu stand on a rock just a few feet away from Ahsoka. You’re standing to his right, nerves and curiosity radiating off your skin.

“Let’s see what knowledge is lurking in that little mind of yours, shall we?” She says to Grogu before turning her head to you both. Clearing your throat, you nod in acknowledgement while Mando stays stiff as a board.

She reaches down and picks up a small stone off the ground and holds it out in front of her chest. Looking down at the rock and watching her eyes squint, it suddenly lifts out of her palm and stays in limbo for a moment before she uses her hand to push it towards Grogu. It flows over so slowly in his direction, his little arms reaching out and grabbing it with both hands. You stand there, completely stunned, eyes wide-shot and jaw practically hanging. It’s something you’ve been able to do as well, but only during bouts of anger or in the middle of a fight.

“Now, return the stone to me, Grogu,” She instructs, her voice gentle but commanding all the same.

His head tilts to the side, continuing to hold it firmly with his claws.

“He doesn’t understand what you’re saying,” Mando blurts out.

“He does.” She reassures him, holding her hand out and gently coaxing Grogu once again to hand her the rock. “The stone, Grogu.”

The Child gurgles, then drops the stone in a chuff of defeat. A drawn-out sigh releases from Mando’s helmet, somewhat irritable, but not fully angry.

Ahsoka approaches Grogu, leaning down to pick up the stone he’s dropped and taking his tiny hand in hers. Her head dips forward and whispers, “I sense much fear in you, little one.”

Grogu coos in response, his big eyes blinking slowly. She flashes him a kind smile and takes a couple steps back, cocking her head to one side as she ponders her next move. Ahsoka’s eyes meet yours for a second and just when they meet, it’s almost like you both come up with the same idea. Grogu needs a different kind of enticement, a more personal incentive.

“Let’s try something else,” She says. “Come here.”

Mando looks over to the Child and motions with his head for him walk over to meet Ahsoka. When he looks over to the Mandalorian with a puzzled look, Mando sighs again. “He’s stubborn.”

Unable to hide the smile on your face, you shake your head just as Ahsoka lips curl upwards. “Not him, you.” She says, looking at him.

Mando hesitates at first, so you grab hold of his forearm and almost usher him in Ahsoka’s direction. “I want to see if he’ll listen to you,” She says curiously.

Mando scoffs, and the sound comes out scratchy and low through the vocoder. “That would be a first.”

Handing Mando the stone, she instructs him to hold it in his palm, open faced and tell Grogu to lift and take the rock. He stands there awkwardly, shifting a bit, clearly a little uncomfortable but in an endearing way. You smile from ear to ear, watching Mando be so confused but approaching this in a gentle way that you know almost no one has been privy to witnessing. It tugs at your heartstrings, observing father and son.

He lets out a deep breath before following Ahsoka’s direction. “Okay, kid. Lift the stone.”

“Grogu,” You clarify, still smiling.

He whips his head to face you then back to the Child.

“Grogu,”

The Child’s ears perk up instantly hearing Mando’s voice call him, cooing excitedly. “Take the stone.”

Looking at the rock, Grogu babbles and then looks at the ground defeatedly.

“See?” Throwing the stone on the ground in annoyance, Mando looks over to where you and Ahsoka are standing. “I told you, he’s stubborn.”

You and Ahsoka turn heads to look at each other, knowing damn well it’s not because the kid is stubborn, but because Mando is stubborn. Keeping an emotional type of distance between him and every person in the galaxy, never allowing himself to make a meaningful connection.

“Try to connect with him,” Ahsoka chimes.

Mando studies Grogu, possibly trying to gauge a reaction or an insight as to what he wants. His gloved hands come up to grasp onto his utility belt and then you notice him fiddle with his belt and flesh out the metal knob from the lever of the Crest. Both you and Mando know just how much that durasteel ball means to Grogu, and if there’s one thing in this galaxy that the kid absolutely loves and wants at all times, it’s that ball.

Sure enough, as soon as he sees Mando with the ball in his hand, his ears perk up immediately and giggles of joy rush out of him. Mando bends his knees, crouching down so that he’s at eye level with him, holding the ball between his fingers, enticing the downright giddy baby just a few feet away from him.

“Grogu,” His tone is playful, and it shocks you. He’s never spoken that way around you. Mando has a monotone way of speaking, maintaining a level tone, or an annoyed tone. Never speaking in a playful or humorous manner. To see him show this kind of vulnerability must be hard for him, especially in front of Ahsoka who he’s known for half a day, but Mando knows this isn’t about him, this is for Grogu, and he’ll do whatever it takes for the kid.

“Do you want this?”

The Child fixates on the ball, arms reaching out in front of him, almost begging for it, but Mando continues to tempt him, speaking low but tender, as he urges Grogu to take it. “Well, go ahead. Go on, take it. You can do it.”

Maker, it takes everything in you not to scream. The way Mando continues to coax him, the way Grogu coos and looks at him so lovingly, it’s enough to break hearts. A relationship borne of hunter and quarry turned father and son. Something so rare, so genuine. To think that these two beings don’t even speak the same language yet have an attachment so fierce and pure.

Eyes squinting in concentration, Grogu’s hand reaches out just a little further and then the ball flies from Mando’s hand right into the Child’s little grip.

“Good job!” Mando exclaims, pure joy and full of proudness. Your mouth falls into a toothy grin as you watch him approach the Child and continue to affirm how proud he is. Looking over at Ahsoka and expecting to see her smiling, your face quickly changes when you take notice of her expression. She’s looking down at the ground, not a speck of joy on her face. In fact, she looks defeated, like she’s just witnessed something awful. Eyebrows pulling together, you give her a nudge with your elbow, asking what’s wrong without actually asking what’s wrong.

“I knew you could do it. Very good,” Mando continues to praise.

“He’s formed a strong attachment to you,” She says before her lips press into a thin line.

“Is that a bad thing?” You question. Taking a step towards Mando and away from Ahsoka, and crossing your arms against your chest, your head cocks to one side waiting for her to explain.

“I cannot train him.”

“What?” Mando straightens out immediately and turns his body to face her. “You’ve seen what he can do, right?” He asks curtly, a hint of underlying anger in his vibrato.

“His attachment to you makes him vulnerable to his fears—his anger.”

“All the more reason to train him.”

“No,” She grits out through her teeth. “I’ve seen what such feelings can do to a person. What it can do to even the best of the Jedi Knights. I will not start this child on that path. Better to let his abilities fade.”

You take a step back; a sneer escapes your lips as you try to understand what the hell she’s saying. “Let his abilities fade? Look at him. You can’t just give up on him.”

She looks down at Grogu who’s too busy examining the ball in his hands to notice the three of you arguing. Giving you both a quick glance, Ahsoka shakes her head. “I’ve delayed too long. I must head back to the village.” She turns on her heel and begins walking away from you two when Mando gets her attention.

“The Magistrate’s asked me to kill you.”

Ahsoka freezes, turning her body slowly towards you, hands making their way to the weapons strapped around her waist.

“I didn’t agree to anything.” Mando clarifies.

Uncrossing your arms, you take a tentative step towards her. “We’ll help you free the village, but at the very least, Grogu,” You point a finger in Grogu’s general direction, “needs training.”

She clamps down on her jaw, eyebrows knitting together as she mulls over the proposition.

“Fine, but we hit the city tonight.”

-------

I hope y'all liked the way I wrote ahsoka...I completely ignored how she looked in the mandalorian and based her appearance off the “Overlords” ep of tcw and changed the way her character was because I wasn't really a fan of how she was written.

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando x reader #mando x you #angst #reader insert #we are one when together #fics

62 notes · View notes

astral-crab · 3 years

Text

loki episode 4 FEELINGS

lots of SPOILERS SPOILERS SPOILERS tons of fucking SPOILERS for loki episode 4 ahead you have been warned

alright so. watched the episode a second time (work? what is work? i don’t know anything about this “work” you speak of), and i am now ready to articulate my many reactions lolsob.

1) re: the sylvie x loki(?) thing: i am not convinced it’s a thing. let me explain.

i KNOW that mobius was going on and on about how gross loki’s alleged crush on sylvie was, but he was literally the only one who ever brought up anything romantic. loki never said shit about a crush or romantic feelings or anything. and then there’s mobius’s friendship with ravonna, and she was going on about how that kind of friendship is rare, and THEN it turns out that their friendship is bullshit b/c ravonna heartlessly prunes him. what if the show is like....comparing and contrasting the FRIENDSHIP between loki and sylvie and the fake, one-sided friendship between mobius and ravonna???? and it’s not a romantic thing between sylvie and loki at all????

loki never said anything romantic about sylvie. he touched her hand/arm when he thought they were gonna die on lamentis, and then he took her by the shoulders, and neither of those things is inherently romantic. you could easily argue either way.

mobius is the only one actually claiming there’s anything romantic happening, and he’s totally acting like a jealous boyfriend the entire time he does it, so like.... if anything’s “romantic,” it’s the way mobius behaves when he thinks loki likes someone else. i don’t have a whole lot of faith in marvel when it comes to this stuff, but i’d like to believe that it’s possible loki and mobius miiiiiight be the romantic love story and loki and sylvie are a friend/family/partner-in-crime relationship. i do not ship loki and sylvie so i hope i’m right lol. but even if lokius isn’t a thing, it doesn’t mean sylvie x loki is.

it would be REALLY FUCKING COOL for a marvel show to center other kinds of love besides that of romantic relationships, and how equally powerful these other kinds of love are. a sibling/best friend relationship is just as capable of creating a nexus event, goddammit. this whole episode talks about being alone and whatnot, loki thinking he deserves to be alone, etc. after mobius realizes the truth about the tva and comes to get loki out of the time loop, he refers to loki’s thing with sylvie as “whatever this connection is”. as if it’s ambiguous what kind it is.

it’s all about CONNECTION! connection with other people is so powerful. not being able to connect with others makes us lonely and depressed and hurting and traumatized. doesn’t matter what kind of connection it is. does not have to be romantic at all. humans need ALL KINDS of connections. we’re a social species. big, lifelong connections, short-term connections, parental connections, friend connections, connections with our pets, connections with the larger community. connection is everything!

side note: loki’s reaction when he thought sylvie was pruned (mobius, that was a dick move, my dude) and when he saw mobius get pruned aaaauuuugggghhhhh it was so heartbreaking both times

more under the cut because this is getting long lol

2) did the tva manage to reset all those timeline bombs sylvie set off in roxxcart?? sure looks that way. kinda disappointing, but it’s not like we’re not expecting the entire multiverse to split open by the end of this show anyway, so we can still have alternate timelines and shit eventually.

3) mmk, i ship lokius as much as the next person, but like we gotta acknowledge how fucked up this situation is. (which is fine! i’m all for fucked-up ships! in fact i love them!) i found it extremely frustrating that mobius acts like loki betrayed him by escaping when he, mobius, literally works for an organization that is going to just KILL LOKI as soon as they’re done using him to help catch and kill sylvie. who in their right mind would expect loki to stick around for ALMOST CERTAIN EXECUTION if loki got the chance to escape???? (yeah, i know we find out that pruning apparently doesn’t necessarily = death, but nobody actually seems to know that, so it’s irrelevant.) mobius, you need to take some fucking responsibility. you are part of an oppressive, fucked up system, my dude, and even if you don’t see that part of it and you believe in all the sacred timeline bullshit, you ought to at least understand why someone mayyyybe doesn’t wanna stick around to be pruned a.k.a. murdered???? and then mobius punishes loki on top of everything by sticking him in that stupid time loop prison and saying a bunch of emotionally manipulative shit. come on. loki was definitely right about how mobius is lying to himself holy hell

“cockroach’s survival mechanism” YES IT WAS A SURVIVAL MECHANISM you were going to FUCKING KILL HIM and you think you’re insulting him by saying “how dare you try to live instead of sitting here nicely and waiting for the tva to kill you” jesus h christ

4) WHAT IS IN B-15′S MEMORIES???? and she’s been concerned about C-20 this whole time. WERE THEY DATING???? WERE THEY TOGETHER IN THEIR PAST LIVES?????

god my heart was breaking for B-15 after sylvie showed her her hidden memories. WHAT WERE THEY I NEED TO KNOW 😭😭😭😭

5) ravonna renslayer, you absolute fucking ASSHOLE i will never forgive you for what you did to C-20 and mobius!!!!! ravonna, wtf, you’re a variant too!! she must know that????? right???? because she covered up C-20 figuring it out and probably pruned C-20 herself. what the hell happened to make ravonna go along with all of this? does she remember her real life before the tva???? how did they get her to buy in to all this bullshit???? is she not what she seems???? but the flashback to her being a hunter and catching sylvie sure makes it look like ravonna is a variant just like the rest of them

and ravonna keeps fucking TROPHIES stolen from variants. like a fucking serial killer. she’s the worst backstabber of them all

6) the tva is so fucked up. they’re gonna do public executions i mean pruning of the variants they hate the most in front of the timekeepers like it’s the goddamn witch trials or some shit???? it’s so fucked up. WHO IS RUNNING THIS FASCIST SHITSHOW???? is it mephisto 😜😈💀

also ravonna taking child sylvie to be pruned oh my GOD wtfffff. i loved that defiant stare young sylvie gave her right before disappearing into the time door

7) THAT SMUG LOOK ON SYLVIE’S FACE AND THE EYEBROW LIFT WHEN RAVONNA REALIZED B-15 HAD BEEN “COMPROMISED BY THE VARIANT” ahahaha!!!!!! and just chillin there with her feet on the desk. i’m in love send help

8) dude, ravonna’s face when she tells sylvie to “do it” and prune her at the end. it seemed very much like a “put me out of my misery” sort of thing. i reeeeeally want to know what’s going on with her. and sylvie’s like, “bitch please you don’t get out of the mess you made that easily.” but ugh she can’t use her magic in the tva so she’s gonna have to take ravonna somewhere else to find out what’s up alskfjghaspirughasiurgh

9) yeah yeah yeah the timekeepers are fake i am sooooooo surprised

10) HOW BOUT THAT FUCKIN END CREDITS SCENE HUH???????? i’m here for alligator loki protect him at all costs

#loki spoilers #loki show #loki series #loki reaction #loki speculation #sylvie laufeydottir #hunter b-15 #ravonna renslayer #mobius #loki #lokiverse #hunter c-20

35 notes · View notes

sokkas-honour · 3 years

Note

for the spotify wrapped writing i'll say number 4 and sokka?

omg this one was so fun to write! ty for requesting!

dream boy - modern!sokka x reader

pairing : modern! sokka x reader

wc: 1.7k including lyrics

notes/warnings: going off of the hc that sokka is a baseball boy from my girl @draqondance and it’s just unedited but enjoy !!

part 1.5 | part 2 | part 3

taglist (send an ask to be added!!): @draqondance @biqherosix @missmorosis

sometimes i think i see your ghost, in passing hallways, the staircase to my apartment,

the clock couldn’t seem to hit three fast enough, the sun was shining outside but everything about your seventh period math class just made you gloomy. you tapped your foot on the ground, anxiously waiting for the final bell to ring so you could get out of the boredom that was calculus. you sighed and rested on your hand that was on your desk and tried to see if you could understand what your teacher was saying but you’d spaced out too long to even know what the hell he was talking about.

with another sigh, you slightly turned you head. you were seated at the back of the class, meaning you could see a part of the empty hallway since the door was open and there he was, the beautiful water tribe baseball player. your heart rate picked up as he simply passed in the hallway though he seemed to catch your staring because he backed right back into your line of view and smirked at you.

his flirty actions imply earned a playful eye roll from you. you watched your friend laugh before waving goodbye and continued on his way knowing he’d be able to speak to you after school anyway.

god did you love that stupid boy. seeing him, even for a split second, singlehandedly made this boring period your favorite of the day. his smile, his dorkiness, his horrible jokes, just sokka in general made your heart race at a speed that was practically impossible to slow down.

i accidentally self impose, bashful thoughts, careless wants, emotional involvement,

the baseball game ended and your school won 7-4, with your best friend pitching his best game yet, you couldn’t contain your excitement. as soon as sokka stepped off the field, you rushed out of your seat to go congratulate him outside of the dugout. your whole friend group couldn’t make the trip to the away game but you had promised him that you’d never miss a game when he got accepted into the team freshman year and so far, you’d never missed one. wether you were swamped with work or sick, you always found a way to sit on those bleachers cheering him on.

“sokka! that was your best game of the season!” you exclaimed as soon as you saw come out and ran to him. he was smiling that adorable stupid smile he always did and rushed to join your halfway.

“i know! did you see how i curved that ball on the last guy! he never saw it coming!” he excitedly retold you the final play that you’d just seen, pride shining from his eyes and grin.

“yeah! sucker didn’t even know what hit him!” you replied matching his energy and he just engulfed in you in a hug out of excitement. to your dismay, he quickly retracted it.

“sorry! i’m just so excited!” he apologised though you didn’t mind at all, hell, you’re disappointed he didn’t let it last longer as you craved affection from sokka that was anything but platonic or initiated by you, how you wished the hug lingered.

“sokka! you don’t have to apologise! i’m just as excited as you are!” you reassured, your cheeks hurting from smiling so much as you placed both your hands on his arms to emphasise how unbothered you were by his actions.

“okayyy. can we go get sea prunes? pretty please?” the pitcher begged, looking down at you with his signature puppy dog eyes that made you practically weak in the knees, he knew you’d never say no to them.

you've got my heart bursting at the seams, maybe you're the boy from my dreams,

most people only saw you and sokka as two inseparable best friends, two peas in a pod, practically attached at the hip, and they wouldn’t be wrong. sokka and you had been best friends ever since kindergarten when he accidentally hit you in the head with a snowball during your recess.

you’d always been close friends but ever since highschool started, you’d fallen for your best friend and you’d fallen hard. his adorably cute smile, his adorably cute eyes, his adorably cute ponytail, his adorably cute jokes, just his adorably cute self was enough to make you long for anything more than a simple close friendship with the water tribe boy.

you’d seem to have done a pretty good job at hiding it as none of your friends ever picked up on it. sokka and you had always have a pretty touchy friendship, you’d hug all the time, you’d place your head in his lap, he’d lay his head on your shoulder, but none it had any ulterior motive. so when zuko confronted you about it you were surprised, he was the one to find out about it, not toph, not even katara, the said crush’s sister, no it was zuko.

zuko seemed to have seen right through your lies about your lack of feelings for the baseball player which led you to just dumping all the reasons that he made your heart put a race care to shame. you told him about the daydreaming that occurred whenever someone would point out that you would both be a cute couple, you told him about the monthly dreams you’d have about you finally confessing your emotions that were always reciprocated.

zuko was kind and always listened but always took the oppurtiny to tease you about it when you were alone.

if you're gonna love me make sure that you do it right, i’ll be under your window in the moonlight,

oh i tend to keep my heart locked water-tight, all you gotta do is meet me after, meet me after midnight.

‘y/nnnnnnn, meet me by our favorite tree like at around midnight. i need to tell you something important.’

you’d been doing your english homework late one night when your phone buzzed with a message from the boy that made you swoon. your heartrate would always pick up a bit when he would send you a message but the content written made it race even more. you quickly replied to agree to meet him.

you grabbed your coat and your shoes and quietly left the house, making sure not to wake your sleeping parents. once outside, you took the ten minute walk to an old willow that stood about halfway between the water tribe sibling’s house and yours. you had often spent afternoons with the two of them just laying in the ground and watched the leaves around them slowly move with the wind.

when highschool started, you often found yourself throwing a rock or so at sokka’s window when it would be late in an attempt to get him to sneak out with you for walks under the beautiful moon. one night you almost got caught so you both agreed to simply text and agree to meet at that nostalgic willow.

upon arriving and passing through the weeping willow’s leaves you saw a figure leaning against it’s trunk. you were able to recognise the boy thanks to the light from his phone that he was scrolling mindlessly on.

“hey sokka.” you made your presence none in a rather soft way, not wanting to spook him.

“hey y/n, thanks for coming.” he looked up and smiled at you and put his phone back into his jacket pocket. your eyes had long acclimated to the darkness and were able to see him sit on the ground and pat the spot next to him to which you happily obliged.

“so what did you want to say.” you asked once you sat next to him.

“okay well i wanted your help. how do i ask a girl out?” his questions came out of nowhere and took you aback, you feared the direction that the conversation would go in but you shoved your emotions down. sokka may be the boy of your dreams but he was still your best friend, and you’d always want him to happy.

“well first of all, i need to know who this girl is.” you smirked, a small spark of hope as your mind rushed to not only a horrible ending to the conversation, but one that ended in a confession of feelings from both sides.

“okay well, only if you guess.” he joked which earned a playful eye roll from you before continuing. “okay well i’ve been friends with her for a while but recently, i’ve been feelings differently towards her y’a know? she’s always been there for me and always knows how to make me happy. i just feel warm and safe with her. i dont want to ruin our friendship because it means so much to me!”

“well sokka, i give up.” your spark grew at his description of the girl he was mad for, the only person you could even think of that fit the criteria was you. boy if you only you hadn’t been that naive, maybe that would’ve saved you from the heartbreak that was coming.

“okay well i thought it was obvious.” he grinned, leaning his head back in a way that told you that he was thinking of the girl who’s name you were about to know.

“it’s suki. i’m head over heels for suki.”

your heart dropped and felt like a knife had just been shoved into it, twisted, and then ripped out. no, your heart had just been broken. you felt like crying, you’d been so stupid in thinking he’d ever have any feelings for you. god it all made sense now, you’d never admit it out loud but you had been spending less and less time with sokka in the last couple of weeks. you had been spending more time with zuko where you would gush about the boy you were in love with.

if only you’d looked at the signs, he had been spending more time with the star volleyball player, the straight a student, the perfect in every way, suki. you couldn’t hold it against him, you loved her as a friend and she was impossible to not love. the words that left your mouth following his confession hurt your soul more than anytning

“you’d make a great couple sokka, you really would.”

#sokka x reader #zuko x reader #sokka #zuko #atla #atla x reader #gaang #sukka #sukki #avatar the last airbender imagine #avatar the last airbender x reader

121 notes · View notes

novasintheroom · 4 years

Note

Ooooo a fresh blog! Heyo there! So, my first request is some head canons, if you write them anyway, for the each of the turtles having a s/o who is usually the purest of beans. Like— she doesn’t get angry, usually shy when meeting new people, very humble, sweet and caring— but for the first time she does it’s like she realizes she’s frustrated and mad about something that happened during the day and it’s the first time she’s expressing it. the turtles notice her come in knowing something is off about her behavior when she’s usually so cheerful. Almost like “Sometimes it just makes me so— it makes me so... so...! Angry!” But she actually gets super surprised with herself realizing she’s actually venting just to say she’s fine in the end after bottling up for so long. The turtles just looking at her and asking if she’s okay 😂 If that makes any sense.. sorry if it doesn’t.

Oooooo my first ask!! I’m so nervous and excited! I think I got the gist of what you’re getting at. Thanks for sending this in, it means a lot to me! <3

Leo

· Honestly caught off guard when you come in steaming

· Your calm and sweetness is something he loves and looks forward to – it’s hard being the firm leader in his family when everyone pushes back, so you’re a pleasant break from the arguments and sassy remarks

· Not today

· It’s loud in the lair – Raph and Mikey are doing something with a basketball and hula hoop that’s got Raph raging and Mikey screaming, Donnie’s got a power tool going on the truck, and Splinter’s Celine Dion music is blaring to drown it all out while he works on pruning his plants

· Leo’s up in the concrete rafters with a book, glancing down every other minute to make sure Raph doesn’t kill Mikey

· He would have completely missed you coming in if Mikey hadn’t thrown the ball toward the entrance

· You dodge the ball before it hits you, but instead of laughing it off like usual, you throw a dark look at his brothers and beeline toward the dojo.

· Woah, that’s weird

· Avoidance of his family = big red flag

· You didn’t even say hi to him??

· Hops down and follows, waving off Mikey’s calls to you

· Finds you in the corner of the dojo, bag thrown to the side and hands smoothing out the sand of his small zen garden

· Feels a bit awkward honestly

· Listen, he’s getting better at it, but he’s not the best at feelings

· Especially girl feelings

· He knows something’s up though, and he wouldn’t be a good beau if he just let you simmer

· Spooks you when he asks if you’re okay

· Darn those ninja skills, how is someone as big as him so silent?

· You sigh and just say you had a fight with your roommate and that it’s fine, you just needed some quiet before you went to his family

· Okay, coolcoolcool. He can work with this. He and Raph fight all the time! “What was the fight about?”

· Cue explosion

· “She doesn’t pay her part of the bills on time, and she has her boyfriend over constantly and I can hear them through the walls when they’re screwing because the stupid cheap apartment has stupid cheap thin walls, and she leaves her dishes everywhere even when I ask her to not be a slob, and the landlord is getting after me for her rent when– “

· W o w

· He didn’t think you knew any swear words, but the names you’re calling your roommate would make even Raph blush

· Your rant goes on and on

· Anytime he tries to suggest a solution you get angry at him like why can’t he just listen omg

· He shuts up quick

· Somewhere in the process he sat down and your head moved to his lap while you laid all your problems out

· By the time you’re finished your chest is heaving and it’s been an hour

· Leo’s scared to say something in case you go off again lmao

· He just plays with your hair and hums while you calm down

· Finally you look at him with wide eyes, “Wow, geez, I didn’t think I was that mad.”

· He can’t help but laugh, “Me neither.”

· Your smile is back, though, and that’s the best thing he’s seen all day

· “You feeling better now?”

· You say yes, and give him a good hug and kiss as thanks for his patience

· He asks you to come to him if things start building up again

· Seriously, start talking to him – I don’t think the poor guy can handle another explosion like that lol

Raph

· Raph knows anger

· Does he know how to deal with it? Ehhh that’s hit-and-miss

· But he knows it

· So seeing your tense shoulders, clenched fists, grinding teeth when you walk in – he knows you’re angry

· It’s a bit off-putting tbh – you’re the calm to his rage, the quiet touch to wind him down when something gets under his skin

· What happened to make his quiet girl so mad?

· Did someone say something about your family?

· Or something about your outfit?

· Did a skeevy guy try to touch you?

· Did someone try to kiss you?

· Okay, now he’s getting mad

· Decides to take a page from Splinter’s book and pulls you aside to talk

· “What’s the matter?”

· You pull at your sleeves, looking anywhere but him

· You just mumble you’re fine, and that you’re hungry and try to move to the kitchen

· Nuh-uh, that don’t work with him

· Catches you by the arm and gives you a look, “Somethin’s bothering you, and you’re gonna tell me what it is.”

· “And what if I don’t wanna talk about it?”

· “Tough luck.”

· Your glare could curdle milk, but you don’t say anything

· Alright, you wanna play it that way? He’s got three brothers he grew up with; he can get it out of you.

· Hauls you up and tosses you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and takes you to his workout station

· Ignores your screams of outrage and the beating fists on his shell

· They’re like little kitten paw pats; he can’t help but smile at how small you really are

· When he sets you down in front of a world-weary punching bag, he crosses his arms and waits

· You’re red faced and snarling. “What are you doing?”

· He raises a fist, and gives the bag a good punch – “That’s for when Mikey backwashed into my water bottle today.” He throws another punch, “And that’s for Donnie’s stupid snorts waking me up last night,” and another, “and now I’m back on Mikey’s backwash!”

· He stops the bag’s swaying and gestures for you to take a turn

· Realization dawns in your eyes. You look at your fist and throw a pathetic punch at it. “That’s…for my fifth plant…dying this week?”

· He almost laughs, but nods encouragement

· You punch again. “That’s for whoever stole my lunch out of the fridge at work.”

· And again. “And for those kids who spit on that homeless guy!”

· And again. “And for Gina’s face when she made fun of my teeth!”

· Punch after punch, you let out your anger and frustrations that boiled over today

· Raph’s impressed – not just with how much crap happened to you, but how long you held it in

· You’re a lot stronger than he gave you credit for

· He’s also a bit freaked at seeing the rage in your eyes

· Is that what others see when he comes at them?

· Yeesh

· You feel a lot better after the session, if sheepish for letting so much anger show

· But he brushes it off, “Hey, you see how I am. It don’t bother me none, sweetheart.”

· He pinches your butt for good measure as you walk back to the lair and laughs when you punch him in the arm

Donnie

· The one that takes the longest to realize something’s up

· He can’t help it! He’s busy making sure his family is safe and hidden! He’s gotta keep the firewall up-to-date from all the new viruses being put out, check the perimeter lasers so that no one sneaks up on them, change the oil in the Turtle Tank, and why is the computer sparking over here, he needs to ask Raph or Leo to come with him to get new parts at the junkyard, but if he –

· Bumps into you and is like ‘oh. how’d you get in here’

· Delighted to see you though! It’s like all his worries suddenly vanished when he realized ‘oh yeah! I have a girlfriend!’ and that’s you!

· Missed you a lot since it’s been a few days since you could visit

· Starts showing you all of the progress he’s made on certain things, asks you how school’s going, how was that group project you had, did you get that interview for work?

· It’s your clipped and short answers that finally makes him take a step back and really see how you’re doing

· You’ve always been enthusiastic about his inventions, even if you don’t completely understand every technical thing he talks about. He thought you guys were past the awkward conversations too.

· Clipped answers are a big no-no – it makes him shrink inside, like his words and ideas don’t matter

· Takes a few seconds to look you over – awkward seconds, ones where you look down and away and not at him

· “Are you alright? Did…something happen?”

· You take a few deep breaths, trying to calm yourself, but then the words just start pouring out: “I’m sorry, it’s just, I can’t stop thinking about how my supervisors treated me the past few days. They scheduled me to work a triple shift! Without asking me! And I told them I had a date with you, and a million other things to do, but – “

· You lay it out for him, apologizing every other minute for just putting this on him out of the blue, that you tried really hard to be happy coming to the lair but your boss just text you that you have another shift tonight instead of getting to hang out with Donnie, and –

· Donnie sits you both down in a couple of chairs, his hands holding your own as you keep talking and venting

· Rubs circles into your palm, eyes never straying from your own watery and frustrated ones

· A breath out of the nose is the end to your rant, and you lean to put your head on his shoulder. “I just hate when people spring things on me! I just wanna stay with you and hand you tools to work on stuff.”

· His heart warms at this, even if he’s sad at how sucky your job is

· And it gives him an idea

· He manages to hack into your work’s scheduling system and put your supervisors or fellow employees in your place for the night

· Even sends out a text masked as your head boss to whoever he put, letting them know they’re on the job and that you had an emergency

· You’re torn on this – those people had things they had to do too

· But Donnie reassures you: “If they’re as bad as you say, then getting more people mad at them might just make them change. If not, we at least get to have our date night, right?”

· Well, when you put it that way…

· He gets a big, long smooch for pulling it off and for listening to you

Mikey

· Listen, this boy is intuitive when it comes to emotions.

· He kinda has to be with the type of older brothers he has lmao

· Instantly knows something’s up by the sound of your feet coming down the tunnels – heavy, like you want to stomp them but don’t know how

· He’s geared up though – his baby girl’s coming!

· Hops off the couch and has the biggest grin for you when you walk in

· Doesn’t even falter when he sees the glower on your face

· Says something stupid to test the waters – “Woah, babe, I’m gonna have to call the cops – I’m pretty sure it’s illegal to be as fine as you are!”

· Not even a smirk.

· Okay okay. Obvi you’re not in a happy mood.

· Man, he was hoping for a little blush at least!

· Takes that heavy bag off your shoulders you’ve been lugging around all day and corrals you back to the couch

· Grabs some sodas and a few chocolate bars from his hidden stash in the kitchen

· He knows you need it more than him right now

· Sits down and calls out to the lair that “we’re making out on the couch!!” Def keeps his family from coming in and interrupting lol

· Isn’t even phased when you explode about your day – your coworker had it out for you, your professor told the whole class that your paper was what not to do if you wanted a good grade, etc. etc.

· Mikey accents your day with “No!” and “He didn’t!” and “What a jerk!”

· It’s cathartic to hear someone agree with you like that

· He takes you in his arms when the frustrated tears start falling and you start to wind down

· “It just makes me so angry, and I hate feeling embarrassed and…”

· Rubs circles on your back to help calm you, just like his family did to him growing up

· After a minute you’re better, and back to your sweet, happy self, if still a bit stuffy from the tears and snot

· You’re surprised and apologize for your emotions, but he stops you

· “Hey, everyone has their bad days! Sometimes you just gotta let it out, y’know?”

· You give him a big kiss for being so sweet

· Makes the day a lot better after that with the soda and candy and some video games

· He’s a good turt <3

#tmnt #reader x tmnt #reader x leo #reader x mikey #reader x raph #reader x donnie #reader insert #answer #anonymous question #tmnt leonardo #tmnt raphael #tmnt donatello #tmnt michelangelo #sfw #leonardo x reader #raphael x reader #michelangelo x reader #donatello x reader #my writing

193 notes · View notes

infernwetrust · 3 years

Text

Easy To Fall [Xavier Plympton x Fem Reader] Pt 2.

PART 1

Summary: The one where you’ve just gotten out of a bad relationship and he’s just gotten out of a bad relationship. Fortunate enough he’s able to catch your eye one faithful night. What was suppose to be just a fling, turned out to be so much more.

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drug use, drug use, fluff, emotional, smut let me know if I missed one!

WC: 2.0k

"So when are you going to let me know your name?" he asked as he leaned against the wall, arm over his head, sun glasses hanging over his nose.

"When you can tell me the reason why you're wearing sun glasses inside." you answered the blonde man who told you his name was Xavier like 6 times. This wasn't his first time trying to talk to you for the night, but, playing hard to get was your favorite thing to do and you did it well.

What he was really trying to do was hide his extremely dilated pupils and red eyes, but you would grow to love those aspects of him anyways. Who isn't a little intoxicated nowadays anyways?

Your moans echoed throughout the bathroom as did his. The hot water stung his back as he held you against the cold shower wall, sliding in and out of you with ease, but he didn't care. It was still, for him, all about you. Plus, he knew how hot you loved the water.

There were really no words exchanged between the two of you. There was no need for them because your eyes told it all and his eyes told it all. You were so deeply into his blue gaze, his pace quickening, he leaned in for what seemed to be the 10th passionate kiss that night.

"Switch spots?" you giggled against his lips. "Wall is so cold."

"Come onnnnn." he said, biting down on his lip. "Why are you playing so hard to get? Am I not cute?"

"You are, actually." you said as the two of you now sat at the bar. "Too damn cute for your own damn good. Gorgeous really."

"I can be even cuter." You chuckled as his persistence. You could tell that he wasn't going to leave you alone without putting up a fight. "Let me buy you a drink and tell you a story?"

"You really want to talk to me, huh?"

"Babe, you have no clue."

Now, your back stung from the hot water, but you loved it. You had your arms wrapped around his neck, his wrapped underneath your thighs as he bounced you up and down, the sound of wet skin slapping against wet skin. You could tell he was close because he started struggling to hold you up.

"It's okay if you let go, first." you said, grinning, trailing your thumb up and down the back of his neck. He grinned at you and caught you off guard when he let you go, forcing you to now hold yourself up while pounds into your relentlessly.

"What's that?" he asked, squinting his eyes at you. "Who is gonna finish first?"

"Mmmmph." was all you can get out, followed by a high pitched yelp as he hit your spot over and over and over.

"God, I love you." he blurted out.

"I know. I love you too."

"No like. I-," he said, feeling himself about to top over. "I- I- I- I-,"

"I know, baby." you said, pressing your lips against for what would be the last time before the two of you let go, you of course being the first. You dug your nails into the back of his neck, letting out an unreal moan as your body shook violently against his body, his release soon following yours. "I love you too."

By the end of Xavier's story, he had you a complete laughing mess. You were so engaged in what he told you that you didn't even finish your drink, wanting to let him know that you were giving him your full attention. He couldn't wipe that smile off his face as he knew he had finally gotten through to you.

"So.." he said. "Now that I have you laughing, will you dance with me? Who said the fun had to stop here? Oh and can I finally get your name."

"Y/N." you said, trying to come down from your laughter. "And yes. I'll dance with you, Xavier." He stuck his hand out for you to grab, the both of you slightly tipsy, as he lead you out to the dance floor, completely forgetting that he had came here with his group.

It started out soft and basic, but you quickly found your way in his arms as he held you up on the dance floor, the two of you still a giggling mess. You kept your arms wrapped around his neck as he bounced you up and down to the beat of the music. He smelt so good you couldn't help but put your face in the crook of his neck.

"Come back with me after this?" he asked in your ear, loudly over the music.

"We'll see blondie."

"But is that a yes or no?"

"It's a we will see."

"I like how mysterious you are."

You sighed as you two stood there in the shower together, exchanging positions every so often so the both of you could rinse off. You rested your forehead against Xavier's, water dripping off the side of your faces.

"Are you okay?" he asked, looking down at you, holding both of his arms above your head as you cupped both sides of his face.

"Yeah. Relief sighs are a thing you know." you answered. "And I'm kind of worn out. We stay in here any longer, we're gonna turn into prunes." He chuckled, pulling you closer to him for a hug.

"Y/N."

"Hmmmm?"

"I know we've been seeing each other for a while, but I'm ready to put a so called, label, on us." he began. "Y'know? Exclusive. You be mine and I be yours."

"Somethings about you never change."

"What do you mean?"

"I like how you drag out the things you want to ask. It's so cute, but yes. We can put on a label on it. I'll be yours, you'll be mine. Y'know? Exclusive."

"I'm gonna ruin that smart little mouth of yours."

"Not tonight, you aren't. Between aerobics, arguing, fucking, and the heat in this shower, I think we both deserve a nap."

"Who said it was going to be tonight? You won't know when it's coming."

"I like how mysterious you are." you said, mocking his words from the first night the two of you met.

*** As usual, he had slept over. And what a wild sleeper he was. What started as a simple cuddle before you two fell asleep for the night, turned into Xavier damn near on top of you, snoring lightly. He was warm, so you didn't mind. You wrapped your arms around him, kissing the top of his head and his still slightly damp hair, causing him to stir. The sun shined perfectly on the side of his face. You're surprised it didn't wake him up. You kissed him again and he groaned silent, grabbing the sheets beside him, his eyes fluttering open.

"Hmmmmmmmm...." he groaned, barely looking up at you.

"Good morning beautiful." you smiled.

"That's my line..." he mumbled.

"Speak up?"

"I know you heard me."

"Go on then. Say your line."

"I can't stand you sometimes." he laughed in a sleepy voice that made your core twitch. Sleepy voiced Xavier was your favorite. And it's probably shitty to say, but drunk voiced Xavier was your favorite too. Mostly because it was hilarious. He was a screaming mess. He screamed every sentence and you could see the effort he would make to try and stay quiet, but he couldn't help it. "Good morning, beautiful."

"Hi." you giggled. He scooted up closer to you, giving you a soft kiss before resting his chin between your breast. You could see a softness in his eyes that you've never seen before. He looked, vulnerable, almost.

"You know. 6 months ago when you found me." he yawned, taking a moment to gather his thoughts all the way. He had so much to say, but didn't want to talk your ear off the whole morning which you didn't mind. You could listen to him talk all day. "I was spiraling bad. I was on drugs bad. I was drinking real bad. 6 months ago I didn't think I was going to be in another relationship so soon."

"Honestly." you said chiming in. "I didn't think you would of stuck around after our first night."

"I don't have the words for it right now, but when I find out, I promise I'll let you know why I stuck around. But you helped me, with a lot Y/N and you caught me at the right time because I know I was heading down a dark path that I wasn't going to be able to pull myself out of. I don't know I'm going to thank you for this."

"Sometimes it takes two broken people to heal each other. It's easier when you have someone to relate to. But you've already thanked me."

"How?"

"When you stuck around and you didn't have to. 3 months in, I fell in love with you too. I've never had a guy consistently check up on me, always taking me out, showering me in compliments, you know, just the small things. We weren't even dating and you treated me like so much more. The sex and you being so damn pretty is just a bonus." He hid his face between your breast when you said that, not wanting you to see him blush, but you could already feel the heat coming off his skin to know that he was. "Helping you on your journey, helped me heal too, so thank you, actually."

"I love you." he said, rushing to bring his lips to yours.

"I love you too." you said back against his lips, his tongue immediately sliding into your mouth as the both of you battled for dominance.

"Hmmmmph." he said, pulling away from you, much to your frustration. "What time is it?" You looked at the alarm clock on your bedside table.

"8:30. Why?"

"Shit." he immediately got up off you, morning wood all in it's glory as he scrambled to get his clothes back on. "And my fucking hair is still wet."

"Where are you going?"

"I have breakfast with Chet and Ray at 9:30 and I live on the opposite side of LA. Fuck. I'm sorry I forgot to tell you because as you can see, I was ready for you."

"Babe, it's okay."

"Do you want to come? If you start moving now I can still make it to my place to get ready." He stubbed his toe on your bedside table trying to put one of his socks on. "FUCK."

"X, slow down." you laughed. "And no, you go have breakfast with your boys. I don't want to intrude on your guy time."

"Intrude? You wouldn't be intruding. I don't want you to starve."

"I'm not going to starve. Just gooooo."

"Babe if you want to-,"

"Xavier look at me."

"Okay. I'm looking."

"Go have breakfast with your friends. We'll meet for dinner tonight back here. My treat? Okay?"

"You mean my treat. Just tell me what I need to buy."

"I can't tell you because I don't know yet."

"You drive a hard bargain Ms. Y/L/N."

"Does this mean I won?"

"Only this time and only because I need to get going. I'll call you before I come back over, okay?"

"Okay." you smiled. "Wear something cute for me, yeah?"

"Only if you show up naked for me, yeah?" He grabbed his wallet and his keys off your dresser. "Okay. Okay. I gotta go. I love you."

"I love you too, but where are you going without giving me a kiss?"

"Shit, right." he quickly ran back over the bed, throwing himself on top of you, giving you a long and passionate kiss before finally pulling away. "Okay no more touching or I'm gonna end up staying."

"That wouldn't be so bad you know."

"You just told me to go."

"I know, I'm just messing. Go, have fun. And remember what I said. It's about you. No one else." He didn't say anything, but shoot you another reassuring smile before leaving you in your bedroom, a smiling mess as you bit down on your lip. Xavier Plympton was your boyfriend.

Taglist: @jimmason @angelicmichael @whatcodysaid

#xavier plympton #xavier plympton imagine #cody fern #cody fern imagine #ahs #ahs 1984 #american horror story 1984 #american horror story #chet clancy #montana duke #brooke thompson #deron horton

70 notes · View notes

chipper9906 · 3 years

Text

Heal The Cracks Within My Heart - Chapter 1: Love Is...

WARNING: SPOILERS FOR LOKI SEASON 1 EPISODE 6 ‘FOR ALL TIME. ALWAYS.’

Pairings: Loki/Sylvie

Rating: General Audiences

Chapter Word Count: 12,073

Overall Word Count: 12,073 (In Progress)

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress (1/?)

Fic Summary:

It was insane when he thought of how much had changed in such a short amount of time. How much he had changed. His perspective had shifted entirely, becoming the kind of man he used to laugh at. Love was weakness. Love was giving someone else the opportunity to take advantage of you, distract you from what truly mattered. Love was something that turned you soft, that made you think twice before doing what needed to be done.

Oh, how he was wrong. Love was… power. Love was giving yourself to another person -- not relying on that other person to make you whole, but to better one another, to strengthen the weaknesses you thought were buried and hidden.

Love was… everything that she was.

* * *

I had initially made this is a single one-shot after the Season Finale, but it kind of just... kept going? More and more scenes came to life in my head, and now here they are; A multi-chapter continuation fic following Sylvie and Loki as they try to get a start on mopping up the multi-verse whilst trying to work out these messy, confusing feelings they have for one another.

Link To Fic

Click Below To Keep Reading

AUTHORS NOTE: If you've already read my one-shot Sylki fic 'Love Is', then you can skip straight to the next chapter because this first chapter is just that fic.

* * *

Perhaps, in another time, another him, he would have told the story of this moment differently. He would say that he stared upon that looming statue, the impassive stone face of ‘He Who Remains’, and he did not tremble. He looked into the face of the man he knew he was to take down, and he got to work.

But he’d be lying if he’d said that.

He had looked up to that statue in horror. He had stood there, wishing he was looking at the statues of the timekeepers, instead. Because he knew that, the horrors of all that happened before? That was going to be nothing, nothing, compared to what was coming.

The room he was sat in now was almost familiar. The same type of nearly every interrogation room that the TVA had, but there was something… off about it. Perhaps a slightly different shade of orange compared to the previous TVA’s color scheme. Or… or perhaps the font they used for the number plastered on the wall was different?

What was familiar was the collar locked in place around his neck. ‘Purely for safety purposes’ they had told him as TVA security swarmed him, all but picked him up by his arms, and hauled him off into this room. He had been sat on this hard, uncomfortable chair for… actually, he still wasn’t too sure how time worked in the TVA. All he knew was that it had been too long already.

It had barely been a moment. The change had happened so fast. Too fast. He had tumbled back through that time door, and… time itself had erupted. Chaos, just as ‘He Who Remains’ had told them it would. And this was just one. One branch of what was going to be infinite – some good, and some very, very bad. But it didn’t even matter if there were good ones. Because ultimately, the bad ones were coming. The bad ones were out there, and this time, they were going to do everything in their power to make sure their timeline came out on top.

And somehow… he had to stop it?

No… No, not just him.

Perhaps… perhaps he can find a way out of here. Steal a TemPad, perhaps? No, no, that wouldn’t work… There was only one TVA, wasn’t there? So, that meant… Mobius was truly gone. His Mobius, anyway. The one who was going to burn this place to the ground. The one that was going to spread the truth. Now, he was… just another variant. The same Mobius he had first met, who was just trying to do his job. Maybe he could do this all over again, find a way to get Mobius to believe him.

Or... Or what if there were multiple TVA's now? All those branches were no longer just branches, but entirely new timelines. New universes that would, ultimately, clash with one another. So maybe, somewhere out there, was the true Mobius from his timeline. Perhaps, if he explained everything to them, to this TVA – tried to find a way for them to understand that his timeline was the only one that didn't involve all-out chaos?

But it seemed unlikely. This was… different. There were no more lies about the TVA in this timeline, it seemed. No timekeepers. Just him. They might already know that ‘He Who Remains’ is in control of everything. And… what exactly is this version of ‘He Who Remains’ like? Was this one that had already planned for eons of chaos?

Was this TVA already planning for a multiversal war?

No, perhaps the TVA wasn’t the way to go. He… he needed to go back there. To that place in the void, beyond the end of time. He… he had to go find her. He needed to find Sylvie.

Simply thinking of her name lodged a hard rock of messy, almost unidentifiable emotions down his throat. Loki’s nails dug into the soft flesh of his palm as he squeezed his hands together atop the cool surface of the table, his eyes scrunched shut as he struggled to get his thoughts back under control. This pain was… new. And horrible. Dull, like a heavyweight pushing down on him, yet simultaneously sharp like a dagger being plunged through his chest. He knew what it felt like to be on the other end now, he supposed.

It wasn’t fun, to say the least.

Would she still even be in the citadel? In whatever time had passed, surely she would have… actually, he doesn’t know. Neither had she. The plan she had meticulously crafted her whole life had finished with slaying the one responsible for all her suffering. And now it was done… what else would she do?

‘Maybe… we could figure it out… together?’

‘Maybe…’

Loki shakes his head vigorously, trying to push away the memory that seemed to echo around the room. He had to focus. Sylvie could be…

Oh. Oh, but… this TVA had a new ruler. The one consistent factor among all the branches, was the same TVA. Which surely meant the same place at the end of time. The same citadel. And if that was the case, then…

Would everything have changed within? Would the new variant of ‘He Who Remains’ already be shacked up in his office?

Would Sylvie still be there?

Was she even alive in this timeline?

No. She couldn’t… It wasn’t possible. He couldn’t think like that. She was still out there, somewhere, he knew it. But… but where? If she had grabbed that TemPad, then… then she could be anywhere. There was only one place he could start looking, though. He had to go back to the citadel.

“You doing any better?”

Loki startles at the familiar voice, looking up from the table he was sat on to the door that had been pushed open. He can’t help the small jolt of hope that rushes through him at the sight of Mobius, but the reality of which Mobius he was looking at quickly drains it away.

“Happens more often than you’d think,” Mobius tells him with a soft chuckle, stepping into the room and letting the door swing shut behind him. Loki keeps a cautious eye on him as he strides over to the table, sitting down on the orange chair opposite with a tired-sounding grunt. Mobius pulls out the wooden clipboard he had tucked under his arm, placing it down onto the table and tapping his hands against it like a drum.

“What happens more often than I’d think?” Loki asks, not even trying to hide the miserable tone seeping into his voice.

“Cracking under pressure,” Mobius picks up the pen tucked neatly away within the clipboards holder. “This is a stressful job. We know of the importance of our work; the fact that you’re going through this now shows just how much you care.”

Loki barely holds back a snort of laughter. He had no idea…

“Can I… get you some water or something?” Mobius offers. “Sorry about doing things all… you know, like this. Treating you like some sort of variant-,”

He can’t help it. The laughter does push out of him this time, although the way none of his smile reaches his eyes definitely puts Mobius on edge.

“No… No, I wouldn’t like any water,” Loki finally speaks once his short burst of laughter is over. “And to answer your earlier question? No. I am not doing better. In fact, I am quite far from anywhere near okay-,”

“Alright, alright…” Mobius stops his rant, hands held up in defense, as if it would somehow calm Loki down. “That’s why I’m here, okay? We’re gonna figure things out.”

“Figure what out?”

“First of all, it’d be good to know who exactly you are.”

Loki’s brow scrunches in confusion, his eyes flickering between Mobius’s peering stare and the file clipped onto the clipboard. “You’re telling me you haven’t figured it out already?”

“Well, we tried looking you up in our database,” Mobius’s hands go to the insides of his jacket, pulling out the rectangular appliance Loki was all too familiar with by now. “Weird thing, but uh… you didn’t come up on our employee register. Not a thing. Now, I know there’s a lot of us here – partly why I wasn’t too worried when I didn’t recognize you from anywhere. But… there should be some record of you here.”

Loki’s eyes were drawn to the TemPad Mobius still held in his hands. Mobius took notice of the direction of his stare, his eyes narrowing by just the slightest as he safely tucked the TemPad back into his jacket pocket. It was only as his hand went into his pocket, moving the side of his suit away from his body, did Loki catch sight of the pruning stick holstered by his side.

“How about we start with a name?” Mobius asks.

He could lie here. Spout out some random name, send Mobius searching for the records once again. It could give him more time, put together at least some semblance of a plan. And yet, on the other hand… There was that urge, that nagging feeling deep down to tell the truth. He still wasn’t sure what the rules of this new reality were exactly. There could be a chance, however small, that the Mobius he knows still exists somewhere within the stranger sat opposite him. Maybe, if he told him his name… Mobius might get that slight tickle of ‘I know this person'. Perhaps even enough for him to go looking for secrets that change his view on the TVA forever.

It was worth a shot.

“Loki,” Loki answers, his eyes searching deep into Mobius’s face for any sign of familiarity. “My name is Loki.”

But there’s nothing from Mobius. No light-bulb-over-the-head moment of realization he was hoping for. He simply shakes his head in a nod, before scribbling down his name upon the record sheet in front of him.

“And it seems you already knew who I was,” Mobius mutters as he finishes writing something down that Loki can’t see from this angle. “Though, not too sure how. I mean, it’s not like…”

Mobius pauses, an almost curious look on his face as he looks at Loki. “…Have we met before? No offense, but I meet a lot of analysts in my work, and… I can’t say I remember us ever meeting.”

Loki gave Mobius a strained smile. “What’s the point? You wouldn’t believe me if I told you, anyway.”

That got Mobius’s attention. His eyebrows shot up in surprise, leaning forward in his chair. “Try me.”

Loki was about to shake his head. Moments away from spouting out some other lie, something to get him out of this mess. But then his eyes are drawn back to the pruning stick he knows is hidden behind Mobius’s suit, and he realizes… there’s only one way this can go. He needs to get back to the citadel, and to do that, he needs to go back to the Void and – somehow – enchant Alioth again. It was a stupid plan, he knew that fully, but there was no other choice. He needed to find Sylvie – and this was the only way to start looking for her.

Either Mobius believes him, or he prunes him.

Win-Win.

“We messed it all up,” Loki confesses once more. “The sacred timeline. The original one -- the one I’m from. That’s where I was before I was sent here.”

“The original one?”

“Yes. We were… we were trying to set everything free. The timelines, the variants, the TVA, everything. We needed to bring it to an end, bring him to an end, and-,”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait just a second,” Mobius stops him, holding out a hand. “You needed to bring who to an end?”

“Your leader. I believe your strange clock mascot likes to call him ‘He Who Remains.’ But, where I’m from, you all didn’t know he was your leader. He created these androids, three reptilian creatures he called ‘The Time-Keepers’. You all false fully believed to be doing their work, but you weren’t! It was all his! He was lying to you, to all of us, and… He… he offered us something. A way to… to stop the timeline from erupting into chaos. We thought he was lying, that the whole TVA was a lie, but… it wasn’t. It’s already happened, don’t you see? We killed him. We killed him, and it started all of this. And I did know you -- a different you. But now it’s all changed, and you… you’re not the you I know, anymore.”

The silence that stretches on between them is almost unbearable. Mobius still looked as calm as ever, quite the difference to Loki who had become worked up, leaning far enough across the table that it dug into his stomach, hands outstretched almost in pleading.

“Okay…” Mobius was the first to speak, picking up his pen once again. “You said ‘we’ a few times in there. Who’s ‘we?’”

Loki opened his mouth, ready to let her name roll off his tongue, but it remains frozen in place. He didn’t know where exactly this whole conversation would end. The very last thing he wanted to do was send another version of the TVA on a manhunt for Sylvie. Again.

“It doesn’t matter,” Loki said hurriedly. “You need to understand – your leader? He’s not the only one of himself. It’s all because of him, that this whole thing started.”

“You’re telling me that ‘He’ is just a variant?” Mobius’s voice was tense, clearly struggling to keep up his professionalism here. Loki could already tell he didn’t believe his story in the slightest – and he certainly didn’t appreciate Loki calling his leader a ‘variant’.

“It’s the whole reason he started this place,” Loki continued on anyway. “The other versions of him? All they want to do is conquer. They want to rule over every other timeline there is. And they won't stop. There will be all-out war, Mobius. Across all the different timelines.”

Mobius only nodded at him, his expression impossible to read as he reached back into his pocket again. The TemPad was back into his hands, and Loki’s vision filled with the memory of being trapped in that time-loop, reliving the same memory over and over again. Mobius tapped lazily at the screen, glancing up to Loki a few times, switching between the screen and him.

“Look, I get it; you don’t believe me,” Loki stretched forward, and Mobius immediately pulled himself away. “But just-,” Loki frantically gestured to the ugly little computer monitor sat in the middle of the desk. “Look me up! Look up my name, and you’ll see. You’ll find my file-,”

“I’ve already looked,” Mobius interrupted him. Something in his expression had changed. He was still guarded, still looked just as disbelieving as he did prior, but there was also… a general sense of uncertainty spread across his face. “Just now, I mean.”

“Right? And?”

“Well, it’s… it’s a strange thing…” Mobius uttered softly, stuffing the TemPad back into his pocket, staring at nothing as he found himself lost in his own thoughts. “You have no file, Loki.”

It felt like his heart had come to a sudden and abrupt stop. It… it wasn’t possible. How was that possible? Mobius had told him, hadn’t he? He was one of the most frequent, pain in the arse variants they had to deal with. And now… he wasn’t on their files?

In this timeline, did he… not exist?

“What?” Loki spluttered out.

“Mean’s that someones messed up their job,” Mobius says with a pinched expression, the chair screeching as he stands up from it. “Someone must have brought you in when they didn’t need to - took you from the timeline you were supposed to be on. No wonder you’re confused-,”

“I don’t-,”

“Don’t worry, we’ll take care of this,” Mobius promised, scooping the clipboard up from the table. “We’ll find whichever Hunter brought you in, get you in front of the judge – they’ll make sure you get back to your timeline. You haven’t done anything wrong; there was probably just some kind of mix-up with the confusion of all these new branches and-,”

“DON'T YOU GET IT!” Loki shouted out to Mobius, one last desperate attempt to convince him. Mobius startled at the sudden yell, stopping any movements he was about to make. “This is because of me! If I was brought in by your workers from my timeline, then why the hell did I come wearing one of your TVA uniforms?! I even had the damn Variant jacket for crying out loud – that you gave me!”

“Calm down, you’re just confused-,”

“I can’t calm down! I… I need to go back. I need to go back to the edge of time, the end of the void, and fix this! I… I don’t even know how, but… I have to try. I have to.”

Loki hated the look Mobius was giving him right now. He much preferred the cocky, equally as manipulative interrogator he got from his Mobius. This Mobius was just looking at him with… with pity. Like he was saddened by the poor, pathetic Variant who was losing his mind.

“We will fix this, okay?” Mobius assured him, soft and quiet, and Loki felt close to ripping his hair out in frustration. He was already beginning to turn away from him, one foot in front as he moved towards the door. “We’ll get you home-,”

Mobius didn’t even see the movement as Loki lunged forward, turning around and looking on in disbelief as Loki grabbed hold of the end of the pruning stick sticking out from his suit jacket. Mobius scrambled to dig his TemPad out from his jacket, just waiting for the moment that the Variant in front of him would activate the pruning stick and prune him with it.

Only… his fingers still, frozen above the button on his TemPad as he sees Loki step away from him. There’s a look of both dread and utter determination on Loki's face as he activates the pruning stick and then – to both Mobius’s disbelief and horror – holds the pruning stick towards him, ready to self-prune.

Loki’s view shifts. One second he’s staring at Mobius’s shocked face, the stick in front of him held primed and ready. Then Mobius’s fingers slam down on the TemPad, and the world shifts around him. He’s suddenly right back where he was a second ago, stood right in front of Mobius. There’s not enough time to react, not expecting the shift in position, but Mobius was prepared. Grabbing hold of the stick once more, he yanks it back towards him whilst simultaneously shoving the hand holding the TemPad into Loki’s chest, sending him sprawling onto the floor.

Mobius holds the pruning stick close to his side, staring down at Loki in bewilderment at what just happened. Loki doesn’t even bother to get back up. He doesn’t even look at Mobius. He remains sitting on the floor, head hung low and eyes closed tight.

He was so very, very tired.

“What…” Is all Mobius can say at first, looking down to the weapon he held in his hands, and then back over to Loki. “You were… you were about to prune yourself…”

Loki doesn’t answer him. He didn’t see the point anymore.

“...Why?”

Loki just about glances up at Mobius. It wasn’t like he’d understand. “It’s the only way. I need to find her.”

Mobius still looked just as baffled – not that he could blame him. “What do you mean it’s the only way? And who the hell is her?”

Loki feels his jaw clenching involuntary, the pressure of it rumbling in his ears, teeth squeaking and creaking in protest. “Just… get it over with. You prune all the other damn variants anyway, so why not me? Prune me, throw me in a time loop again – I don’t care anymore.”

“Again? I hadn't even met you before 'till-,”

“PRUNE ME!” Loki yells from the floor, his voice sounding unnatural to even him as it echoes back towards him.

The fight drains out of him just as quick as it comes. Mobius still has that same damn pitiful look on his face, and he can't stand to look at it anymore. Loki drops his head into his hands, pushing his fingers through his hair and grabbing hold of clumps of it, yanking tight until he felt the sharp pain of it across his scalp.

“I’m not gonna prune you,” Mobius says so quietly, Loki nearly misses it. “Least, not till I figure out exactly what’s going on here. This could all still be a simple mistake-,”

“It’s not,” Loki interrupts dejectedly, his head still buried in his hands. “Not that it matters if I’m telling you the truth. No one seems to believe me when I tell it, anyway…”

The silence he gets in response is almost stifling. Enough time passes with nothing said in response that Loki pulls his head back up, only to be greeted by… nothing. The room was empty, and Mobius was nowhere in sight. He had somehow managed to sneak out of the room without making a noise.

Alone again.

* * *

He might have fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure. It certainly felt like he had drifted in and out of consciousness, but there’s a good chance he just found himself sinking in and out of his thoughts, instead. He had managed to move from the center of the room, but not far enough to get himself back up on the chair. He had found his way to the wall, finding some sense of comfort in the wall pressed against his back. A sense of… security.

‘Well, I never sit with my back to a door.’

The sounds of commotion from outside the door snap him out of his memories. He scrapes up what little energy he had left to look to the sound of pounding footsteps and muffled shouts getting closer and closer. Something was going down. It was only a matter of time before they stormed through that door, and-

Something shifts out of the corner of his eye. A dot, golden and gleaming, suspended in mid-air. He knows what it is before it even expands, jumping to his feet with a burst of energy he didn’t even know he had left. The time-door shimmers just in front of him, inviting him into the unknown beyond. The sounds of chaos from beyond the door had only grown more frantic, coming closer to the door with every second he remains standing in place

He makes up his mind.

Loki reaches forward, jumping through and into the time-door just as the physical door behind him slams open. He doesn’t even get a chance to see who was coming for him before he’s gone from the TVA.

Loki stumbles forward as he exits the time-door, his rushed entrance kicking up pools of water beneath his feet. There's a click, and suddenly his neck feels a whole lot lighter, the TVA collar around his neck falling into the soaked pavement below. He could barely see a thing past the rain pounding down on him, soaking every inch of his clothes in as little as a second. The howling wind around him seemed to bite into his skin, the raindrops feeling like small blades as they shot down against his body.

And yet, somehow, he knew. The moment he stepped into this place, the moment he felt the rain atop his skin, he knew. He had been here before.

Loki looks back to the time-door, waiting for the inevitable moment the TVA burst through it. But he only lays eyes on it for a few seconds more before it collapses in on itself, leaving him in nothing but the faint glow of the neon signs ahead.

And there, hidden within the shadows, was where he saw her. Sensed her. She was nothing more than a dark silhouette at this distance, watching him carefully from afar.

“Sylvie…” Loki whispers, mostly to himself, unable to be heard past the storm raging around them. The sense of relief, of pure joy that overtook him was something he had never known before. His feet are moving forward before he even realizes it, picking up in pace the closer he gets to her. And, miraculously, she was walking towards him, too.

The instinct of it was overwhelming. Every part of him screamed to get back to her, to be back by her side. He wanted, needed to know that she was okay. He wanted to grab hold of her, to hold her in his arms and-

He stops. So does she. Loki’s eyes fixate on the blade held limply in her hands, the dark liquid he sees coating its end steadily dripping onto the ground as the rain hits it. No doubt the blood of him, he knows. On that same hand he could see the TemPad secured snuggled around her hand, its few cracks of gold in its marble-like surface shining through the darkness.

She didn’t seem to be holding it like she planned on wielding it against him. They were close enough now for him to see her face in the glowing light of the supermarket’s signs. He knows full well that the droplets of water running down her face are not only because of the rain – mostly because he himself feels the burn of a few stray tears escaping his eyes.

It was all still so vivid in his mind: the sharp bite of her steel against his neck, her trembling arms underneath his hands as he begged her, a type of euphoria he’s never known as she closed the distance between them, foolishly sinking into the feeling of ‘rightness’ at the taste of her against his lips, eagerly chasing them as she tried to bring it to an end.

But the pain… oh, he vividly remembers that too – of the shock of feeling himself be flung back by her magic, unable to scramble back to the time-door in time before she had shut it – shut herself – from him. He didn’t know what to do with that pain. He was used to pain. Harnessed it, even. It was easy to let the pain turn to anger, to drive him towards his goal. But he had been drowning in this pain, one had never had to experience before. There was… nothing. The world had been sucked out from underneath him, everything that had started to make sense taken away, and he could do was nothing but… sit. Sit, and replay that moment over and over again. What could he have done differently? What did he do wrong?

What did he need to do for her to trust him as much as he had trusted her?

And worst of all... Why didn't he feel angry? He should be bitter, should be clinging onto that sting of betrayal. But it simply wasn't there. Not anymore. Not with her just a few paces away from him. He didn't care about what had happened, or what she had done to him. All he cared about was that she was here, and she was okay.

And that scared him more than anything.

Loki started forward again, closing the gap between them in just a few strides. It's of great relief that she doesn't push him away – or stab him if he's being honest – as he all but collides into her. He pulls her into him, wrapping his arms around her and squeezing her tight, pulling her close until she was all but engulfed into his chest.

"Sylvie," He breathes her name in relief, not even bothering to hide the tears that squeezed past his closed eyelids. "I was... I was terrified something might have happened, that you... Oh, thank the gods you're okay..."

Sylvie's arms have a weak grip around him, her entire body tense as she's pinned under his embrace. He pulls her away from him, holding her at arm's length as his eyes furiously scan across her face, as if to reassure himself that she was indeed okay.

“Seems we’re both a fan of the dramatics,” Loki can’t help but say, gesturing to the supermarket behind her with the smallest of smiles. “You’re not going to try and strangle me with a hoover again, are you?”

"Don't-," Sylvie starts, her voice clipped and strained. "Please, just... No jokes."

Lightning strikes somewhere nearby, a particularly large fork that he's half-convinced could only be conjured by his brother. The strike lights up the darkness that enveloped them, allowing him the briefest of glances of every detail of her face through the murky gray of the night. The twist of pain on her face is the first thing his mind notes. Yet, despite the pain, his chest still constricted tightly at the beauty of her that shone through. . He had never felt so torn, so overtaken by the need to comfort, battling against the sting he still feels at the reminder of their parting.

"Why here?" Loki asks her. Standing out in the pouring rain with an apocalypse-level hurricane looming nearby wasn't exactly the best place for a conversation. "Why did you take us back to where we met?"

Sylvie glances down at the TemPad on her wrist. "I don't know. I just knew I had to pick an apocalypse, and... This was the first one I thought of."

He nods at her answer, the movement getting a few soaked pieces of hair to plaster onto his face.

"Aren't you going to say something?" Sylvie suddenly snapped, and he found himself taken aback by the sudden hostility. "I know you want to. You... You have to be angry at me. Want to yell at me, say I told you so-,"

Loki could only blink down at her in surprise for a few moments, his mouth opening and closing repeatedly as he struggled to come up with a response. "I...what? Is that why you brought me here? For me to yell at you?"

"No-,"

"Then... Why did you bring me here?" Loki can't help but let a little bit of frustration slip through into his voice. "I thought that... That after what happened, this was it. That you were just...done with me. Didn't need me anymore. And now, I… What do you want from me?"

Sylvie flinches somewhat at his use of words, reminded of the night he had said those very words in this very place. Sylvie swallows harshly, looking away from him for a moment and to the ground. She shakes her head, holding her head high as she looks back to him. "I need you to tell me I did the right thing,” The confession comes out shakier than she probably intended to, judging by the flash of annoyance he sees on her face. “I did the right thing.”

Loki wasn’t too sure if she meant to say that as a statement, or a question. She certainly didn’t sound too sure of herself right now. “Would you believe me if that’s what I told you?”

The look she shot up at him made the weight in his stomach sink heavier. It was the same look she gave him when she thought he wanted the throne. He wanted nothing more for that look to be gone. “No. No, I suppose I wouldn’t.”

Loki sighed softly, closing his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see her disappointed face anymore. He took a deep breath through his nose, taking a risk and reaching out, gently wrapping his hands around her upper arms. She didn’t immediately pull away, or smack his hands away, so he counted that as a success.

“You did the right thing-,” Loki began carefully. Sylvie frowned up at him, mouth partly open to point out that she had already said he wouldn’t believe him, but Loki carried on before she could get anything out. “-For you. And I get it, okay? I understand why you did it-,”

“No, you don’t-,” Sylvie spits out, one hand shooting up to grab hold of his hand on her arm. “You got to live most of your life. You had a chance to grow up in your home, with your family. You’ve only had to deal with the TVA for a few days; I’ve been up against them nearly my entire life. And it didn’t even matter! Everything I did, every attack I made against the TVA, was apparently supposed to happen! I had no free will! No one does but him! And I stopped it! I freed everyone!”

“Yes, you did,” Loki agrees with her, trying to keep his voice calm to temper the heat in hers. “And I’m not saying that that part of all this is a bad thing. People deserve to have their freedom, the decision to do whatever they want with their life.”

“Then why the hell did you try and stop me?” Sylvie asks, making an attempt to rip his hands off her. “If that’s the way you felt, why did you-,”

“Because I didn’t want you to make the same mistakes as I have!” Loki exclaims, fighting off her attempts at shaking him off, digging his fingers in, and giving her a slight shake. “Making that decision right then and there, after everything He told us… I could see it in your face, Sylvie. The hate you felt for that man, all that pent-up rage you had kept buried down, fueling you your entire life – that’s all you could focus on in that very moment. And I know what that feels like! And I know what that awful, all-encompassing regret feels like after. That’s why, Sylvie. I just wanted you to take a minute, a moment outside of all your emotions – and I know that’s easier said than done. I thought that… maybe you would trust me enough to at least listen. And… I don’t blame you for it, for everything you did back there. But I wanted… I wanted to do what I could to make sure you didn’t have to live with the same regrets I have.”

“Why?” Sylvie whispers, not trusting her voice enough to speak any louder than that. “Why do you care?”

“I wish I knew,” Loki says, chuckling despite the tears that continued to build in his eyes. “I’ve never felt this way. Not like… this. My whole life, I only ever focused on myself. Looked out for me. And now, for the first time in my life… that’s no longer the case. Now… all I care about is you.”

Sylvie gave him a strained smile, shaking her head slowly from side to side. “I am you, remember?”

The corner of Loki’s lips hitched up in the slightest of smiles – one he didn’t really mean. “Yes… except, you’re the one who said that I’m not you.”

Even Sylvie winced at the reminder of her last words to him. It was strangely reassuring to him that she looked pained at his pain. Surely, that must have meant she cared about him in some capacity, right?

“I meant what I said back there,” Loki let his hand slide down the soaked material of her sleeve, his hand coming to a stop at the base of her wrist. His thumb lightly brushes against her pulse-point, able to feel the pounding of her heart and the rush of blood around her body, same as his. “I wanted you to be okay, and when I thought of you killing Him, and the guilt you would have to carry if he was telling the truth, and we doomed infinite amounts of timelines? I knew you weren’t going to be okay.”

Sylvie could only look at him, taking in the earnest, pleading look he was giving her. She wanted nothing more than to believe him, to take that risk and fall straight into the undying trust he so easily seemed to have in her. But trust didn’t come easy. There had never been anyone else but herself to trust.

“But, if you had taken that moment?” Loki continued, catching her off guard. “If you had just talked to me, thought about it, and you still came to the decision you needed to kill him? If you thought that that was what was going to make you okay? Then I would have handed you the dagger myself.”

Sylvie could only shake her head at him, her fruitless attempts to keep her tears at bay infuriating her as she feels them slide down her face, mixing with the rain that quickly washed them off. “I couldn’t take that risk. He might have been telling the truth, or maybe he was lying just like the rest of them, and you were-,” A gasp catches in her throat as his hand slides further down, his fingers fitting perfectly between her own as he holds them in a comforting grip. “-You were supposed to be on my side. And then you weren’t. This whole time, every moment we spent, it felt like… like you had just thrown it all away. I knew that, with any other person, I should have killed you right then and there.”

Loki can’t fight back the shiver that ripples through his body, one he knows full well isn’t because of the chill of the storm around them. It had felt like his blood had run cold at her words, throat tightening painfully at the thought.

“But I couldn’t,” Sylvie admits to him, and it sounded like it pained her to do so. “Because you were saying all those things, and… and I believed you, because I felt it, too. I didn’t want to hurt you, and… and I wanted to be okay, too. I couldn’t kill you, but… I couldn’t let you stop me, either.”

The thunder from above is almost deafening, the power of it rumbling against the pavement underneath their feet. It was strangely comforting to hear. It reminded him of home, of family.

“And so you did it,” Loki states the obvious. “You did what you had set out to do. You killed He Who Remains.”

Sylvie nods, and the blank look in her eyes sends a dagger through his chest. This was a moment where she should have felt triumphant. If things had been different, they would not be here. Not like this. They would have been celebrating, felt accomplished at doing what was the right thing for once – not just for them, but for the entire Universe – and every other Universe out there that had been deemed unsuitable to exist by a single dictator.

But this wasn’t that moment.

“I saw Mobius.”

Loki feels himself freeze up involuntary at the name. He hated it. He hated that his memories of his friend had been tainted, now nothing more than… a stranger. Perhaps even a potential adversary in the near future…

“After I…” Sylvie trails off, swallowing harshly with a painful clench of her throat. “After I killed Him, I… I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t feel better. I... I couldn’t get you out of my head. I wondered if… maybe you were right, but I… I didn’t want to admit it to myself. Even when I managed to pick myself back up, and saw the space outside the citadel, within the void at the edge of time, and what I saw-,”

“What? What did you see?”

“It looked like stars…” Sylvie whispered, her eyes unfocused as she replayed the scene in her mind. “The timeline, all those branches… There were so many… And I should have been thinking about all those people in those timelines that would never have to live with the fear of taking a step out of line and finding themselves, their family, everything they ever knew taken from existence. But I didn’t. I thought about how many of him were out there. How many would be scrambling to get right back into that damn office to claim their throne once again…”

Her eyes came back into focus, swiveling up to meet his unwavering gaze. “And then I thought of you. I thought you would be safe in the TVA. Safe away from me. But once I saw all those branches, I realized that… I could have sent you anywhere. I might have just killed you myself.”

“You didn’t,” Loki rushes to assure her. “Granted, I’d much rather you hadn’t pushed me through that time-door in the first place. The fall quite hurt, actually-,”

“Loki,-”

“Right, no jokes. Sorry.”

The weary look on Sylvie's face is one he's seen many times before whenever people are subjected to the torture that is interacting with him. "When I made my way back, and you weren't there, I thought that I... That it might be too late."

Loki's lip hitch into a half-smile. "You seem to forget that I am capable of looking after myself."

Sylvie narrows her eyes at him, and it was enough for him to doubt any and all of his combat and survival skills. "Says the guy who planned on running towards a giant cloud that ate everything in its path and stabbing it."

"In my defense, that usually works."

"Oh really? So it worked on Thanos too, then?"

Loki placed a hand over a heart in mock hurt and... well, perhaps a little bit of hurt considering that's the only death of his where he was destined to die. "Now that's just cold, Sylvie."

He doesn't mind the hurt too much, though. Not when his over-the-top reaction pulls a small yet genuine smile out of Sylvie, one he finds himself mirroring without much of a thought. He knew that he wanted to do all he could to keep that smile on her face for the rest of their lives.

Oh, he really was in deep... When he finds his brother once more somewhere out within the multiverse – his version of his brother – he knows he's going to be set for days upon days of teasing and ridicule.

Or...witness the terror on his brother's face as he's confronted with two Loki's...

Their small carefree moment doesn't last long, though. The weight of the situation comes crashing back down on them, wiping the smile from Sylvie's face as quickly as it had come. "The TVA is... In shambles right now, which is what I always wanted, but... I saw that... that statue, of him, and I just knew, I... I knew it was all so much worse now."

"I take it that was you that caused all that commotion outside my door, then?"

Sylvie nodded her head, and Loki was surprised to see that pained look back on her face again. "It's because I tried talking to Mobius."

Loki grimaces at the reminder. The hurt of what had happened never seemed to lessen. "Yes, I... I might have made the same mistake."

"They seemed a tad bit preoccupied with everything going on, but... Mobius definitely seemed on edge."

"Well, it was twice in one day that someone he didn't know came up to him spouting nonsense and claiming they know him. I think he might be smart enough to realize something's not right."

"Considering the security that swarmed me, I'd say so," Sylvie huffs. "Quickly realized it wasn't a situation I was going to fight my way out of."

"How did you find me?" Loki asks.

"Mobius," Sylvie answers, and the guilt that crosses her features makes his stomach clench uncomfortably. "I... I had to take him hostage. Was the only way to stop their hunters from surrounding me. Opened up a time-door and just... dragged him through with me."

"Is he...?" Loki didn't even want to finish that sentence.

"He's okay," Sylvie's answer helps to loosen the knot in his stomach. "I enchanted him. He fought back a bit, but... I got through in the end. Found out where they were keeping you, and... Opened up another time door to get you out of there."

"And... What did you do with Mobius?"

"He's in a time-loop," Sylvie says, the smile on her face no way near malicious. "It's a good one. I think there was a jet ski?"

Loki huffs out a laugh of relief. "Good, that's... That's good."

"I told him, you know," Sylvie says, the serious tone to her voice catching his attention. "I told him the truth, about him being a variant. How everyone that works for the TVA is a variant."

"Did he believe you?" Loki asks.

"He already knew," Sylvie tells him, and it feels like another blow. "Whatever this version of the TVA is, and whatever version of Him rules it, it seems he was a bit more truthful with his workers than the last one," The frown on Sylvie's face deepens more and more with every word she speaks. "They just... don't care. They believe they were selected for a higher purpose – like it makes it okay they were ripped away from their lives."

"Ah... I suppose that might make it a bit more difficult to sway Mobius onto our side again," Loki says, his overwhelming feeling of dejection seeping into his voice.

Sylvie's eyes drop down to the ground, suddenly finding herself unable to meet Loki's gaze. Loki frowns as he notices her avoidance of him, craning his head down to try and meet her gaze once more, only to find her stubbornly focusing on a drenched piece of paper as it floated by. "Sylvie...?"

"Loki, I..." Sylvie starts, closing her eyes from the sight of what she could only describe as 'sad puppy eyes'. "I... I still don't know what to do."

"About... What?"

"Everything," She forces out. "I should feel accomplished now, shouldn't I? Satisfied, that I finally killed the man who took my life from me?"

Loki barely pushed down the urge to reach out for her again. He had a feeling she wouldn't take too kindly to physical attempts at comfort right now. "I take it that means you don't feel that way?"

"No," Sylvie whispers, and Loki could tell she hated to admit that. "I just felt... Empty. Because if he was telling the truth, and... And you were right? There's just gonna be a bunch more of Him out there. It feels like I've done nothing. Nothing but-,"

The sentence gets stuck in Sylvie's throat, forcing her mouth shut with an aggregated shake of her head. Loki lets his instincts guide him, taking a step towards her, arm outstretched ready to comfort. But then Sylvie takes a step away from him, just a small single step, but it feels like she's trying to put miles and miles of distance between them.

"What are you doing to me?" Sylvie gets out between clenched teeth, threading her fingers through her hair in a way that Loki knows he does when he's stressed.

"I... I don't know?" Loki said, sounding rather baffled by her exclamation. It wasn't exactly like he wanted to aggravate her further. Far from from it. Rather... there was something about the way his heart leaped up to his throat, wondering if whatever she said to him next would reignite that small spark of hope still burning in his chest, or extinguish it before it can fully catch aflame.

"This isn't – wasn't – who I am. I've never needed anyone in my life! This whole time, it's been only me. Me who kept me alive, me who's been carrying out this plan for years. And then I did it. I accomplished that, and... I didn't think about the victory I had earned. I didn't think of how I was finally free to live my life, make my decisions and know they're solely my own. All I could think about was you."

Loki froze in place. He didn't dare move, didn't even dare breathe. To say he was transfixed was an understatement. It seems he was wrong, in the end. She had found her own way to enchant him...

"I've never had... Companionship. I've never known what it's like to have someone by my side, someone who... Who understands. When I pushed you through that time door, I thought that I'd be okay. I'd been alone my whole life, I was used to it. But when I was sat there, alone in that office, and I wasn't okay. I was lonely, in a way I've never been before, and I didn't want to, but... I missed you. And... I wanted – needed – for you to be okay, too.

"Now, it's... it's all so complicated. After... After what I did, it's... I feel like I can't even trust myself anymore, let alone..." Sylvie trailed off, bowing her head down so Loki wouldn't see the tears that were ready to spill again. Not that he even needed to see them to know they were there. He could feel the pain radiating off her in waves as much as he could feel his own. "I'm sorry."

Loki nearly couldn't hear that last part. Whether that be because of the overwhelmingly strong blast of wind that knocked down the weather battered sign above the supermarket, or because she had purposefully uttered it so quiet like she didn't want him to hear it. He was fairly certain it was the first time he had heard her say those words to him.

They don't come very often from a Loki, that he knew for sure.

"I'm sorry, too,"

Sylvie nods her head, still bowed, her face pinched as she struggled to bury her emotions back down.

"You know, back in that interrogation room, I had time to think," Loki starts, giving her a sad smile in preparation for what he's about to say next. "I, um... I thought over that dagger metaphor I said before, and I think I've got something."

The confusion of what he's doing at least manages to distract Sylvie a little. She still eyes him with understandable caution as a burst of lime green light manifests a dagger into his hands, but the wary look in her eyes disappears almost immediately as he holds the dagger out for her to hold. She slowly reaches out, wrapping her hands around the thin handle and lifting it out of his grasp. She raises an eyebrow at him, eyes flickering between him and the new blade she held.

"Love... Is like a dagger," Loki couldn't help but smile, brought right back to that day on the train, with everything a little a lot dizzy, and warm, and nice.

"It's a weapon to be wielded far away, or up close," Loki continues, gesturing to the weapon in her hands, still pointed at him. "You can see yourself in it. It's beautiful... Until it makes you bleed. But ultimately, when you reach for it-"

Loki's hands shifted in a blur of movement, taking Sylvie by surprise. His hands had shot out to reach for the dagger, but not for the handle. Instead, he had wrapped his hands around the blade itself, the sharp edges of the weapon biting into the soft flesh of his palm. She jumped at the rapid movement, but found that – to her surprise – she had not responded by trying to move the weapon out of his reach. She had instead dropped the sword she held in her other hand, the clang of it hitting the concrete below echoing around the parking lot. Her now free hand had shot up in an attempt to stop him from cutting himself on the blade, looking up to him in utter bewilderment.

"You reach for it too quickly-," Loki didn't even wince at the sharp sting across his hand. He slowly pulled his hand away from the blade, suppressing a shiver at the feel of her hand partly covering his. He held his hand out to her, revealing the shallow cut as a thin stream of blood oozed from the newly opened wound. "-And you only end up hurting yourself."

For the most part, Loki had been expecting for Sylvie to call him an idiot for cutting his hand open. Which, while he had no doubt she was probably thinking that, wasn’t at all what she did. She shot him the tiniest of smiles, removing her hand – that of which she had used to try and stop him from doing said idiotic move – from the blade, revealing a slice in her own palm that mirrored his. “And more often than not, you both end up getting hurt.”

Sylvie could already see the blame Loki was placing on himself as he saw her wound, unable to fight back the bubble of warmth at the clear concern on his face as he took her hand in his, completely disregarding his own wound. There was another burst of light from his magic, and that bubble of warmth only grew at the sight of the bandages he had materialized. His hands were methodical yet oh so gentle as he applied the bandage around her hand, pressing his fingers into her palm tenderly once he was done, as if he wished he had the power to magic away her injuries.

“Probably should have done that after you bandaged yourself,” Sylvie says, biting back a smirk as she gestured with a pointed look of her eyes down to his handiwork, handing him his dagger back.

The dagger disappeared back to where he had manifested it from, glancing down to the bandage he had applied around her hand and seeing his own blood smeared across the once pristine white material. “Right… I wasn’t really thinking about that.”

She shook her head at him, though this time with nothing but fondness for the man in front of her as she slid the other piece of bandage he had left from his hand. Despite the fact that he had just done it for her, Loki still looked baffled as he watched her begin to bandage up his hand just as carefully as he had, like the thought of her returning the favor would have never crossed his mind.

Sylvie finished tying the knot to his bandage, giving his hand a soft pat as she does so. Her hand begins to slide away from his, and almost on instinct does Loki reach out to grab hold of hers once more. Her hand seems to fit in his like a mold, his thumb gently caressing across her knuckle whilst her thumb comes to a rest at the base of his wrist. Typically… touch wasn’t a thing she welcomes. Touch usually meant a tight grasp around her wrist, dragging her from her home. Touch usually meant the hard rack of knuckles across her jaw, or a swift kick of a boot to her ribs. Touch usually meant meaningless nights with no name strangers, trying to feel something other than the desire for revenge that kept her going, as worlds upon worlds came to an end.

But with Loki… touch was the feeling of his hand under hers, letting her make the first move as they stared out to the lake, waiting for their coming death. Touch was his back against hers, letting her know that he – quite literally – had her back, letting her know that she wouldn’t have to fight the TVA alone. Touch was his hands wrapped around her arms, the lightest of touches that told her that as much as he wanted to hold her, he would let go if she asked him. Touch was the first set of lips against her own that wasn’t one of end-of-the-world desperation, the first to make her heart pound against her ribcage as she pulled away from him, only for his lips to chase hers once again – and letting herself fall straight back into him.

“So, love is… something that can be twisted without meaning to. You might reach for it too quickly, and in doing so… you only end up hurting one another,” Loki broke her out of her thoughts. Sylvie’s eyes danced across his face as he spoke, though Loki’s stare was still fixated on her hand in his, and the wound he knew that lay just below his own, parallel with one another. “But… you can learn that, despite the pain…You can always find a way to heal. Together.”

His words were at least enough to pull another smile from her lips, which at the end of the day, seemed to be the only mission he wanted to succeed in. Sylvie took a deep breath in through her nose, returning his comforting squeeze on her hand with one of her own to prepare him for the coming blow.

“I still think it’s a stupid metaphor.”

The burst of laughter that escaped Loki seemed to catch them both off guard, as close to a snort as Sylvie thinks she’s ever heard from him.

“Well, to be fair, I was very drunk when I came up with it.”

“I thought you said you were ‘just very full’, not drunk?”

Loki’s mouth shifted into a rather comical ‘o’ shape as he tried to come up with a response, only to find that there simply wasn’t one he could use to defend himself.

“Okay, so maybe I was drunk-,”

Sylvie does snort at his answer. Loki huffs indigently, though the smile plastered on his face gives away the illusion of irritation. “Well, alright then, what’s your metaphor for love?”

This gets her to stop laughing. Loki hadn’t entirely been expecting for her to take his question seriously, but judging by the calculated look in her eyes as she looked into his, it was something she was giving considerate thought.

“Love…” Sylvie begins softly, the syllables of the word rolling off her tongue like she was testing the way it felt in her mouth. “Love is… a song sung to a crowded room that feels like it’s being sung to you, of words that remind you of home.”

Sylvie felt Loki’s grip on her hand tighten for just a moment, though she could tell he was being careful not to touch the tender wound on her palm. “Love is… lingering glances where you both don’t care to hide it, even as the world falls apart around you.”

Sylvie didn’t know if it was Loki that shuffled closer to her, or if she shuffled closer to him. Not that it mattered much. They always just seemed to be drawn to one another like magnets.

“Love is… knowing that you care about someone as much as you do yourself. And the terrifying realization that… you may just care more.” Sylvie’s voice quietened with every word she spoke, as if inviting Loki to move even closer on the excuse that he couldn’t hear her. “Love is… pretending to be cold – despite being frost giants –just to find an excuse to huddle close under a blanket; which, for the record, I’m still convinced is some kind of drapery you stole from a dining table.”

Loki tries to hide his bashful smile by bowing his head down, but it doesn’t escape Sylvie’s gaze. She placed her fingers under his chin, forcing his head up to look him straight in the eyes.

“Love isn’t a damn metaphor,” She whispered to him, savoring the sight of his Adams' apple bobbing as he swallowed nervously. “Love is whatever the hell we decide it to be.”

The gap between their mouths was so small that she barely had to lean forward, her entire body melting into his as their lips slotted together. His body had seemingly turned to putty under her hands, one of them sliding up his arm to rest on his shoulder, trying to pull him even closer until his body was flush against hers.

This one was different than the last. There was no painful tug in her chest in knowing she needed to turn him around, to get to the TemPad and get him out of the way without hurting him. She did not feel the wetness of his tears as they slid down to their joined lips, only the droplets of rain that ran down from the drenched strands of his hair.

She did feel that same curling, burning heat in the pit of her stomach, similar to the pleasant burn of her skin wherever his hands trailed, leaving a trail of goosebumps as they moved up the back of her neck, threading his fingers through her hair. She could feel his reluctance to end this any time her lips left his, even for a moment of air, as he quickly swooped back down to reclaim her lips. The feeling of his lips were feather soft, warm, yet with a firm and addicting pressure as they slid against hers. It wasn’t until she felt the swipe of his tongue across her lips, a pleasant invitation – an eager ask for permission – that she found herself separating from him with a shaky gasp for air. Her entire body seemed to be buzzing with the after-effects of adrenaline, taken aback by the sensation of her body trying to overtake her thoughts, screaming at her for more.

Loki’s chest heaves just as much as hers as he takes in deep gulps of air that their kiss had deprived them of, too busy with breathing in the alluring scent of each other to remember such a basic necessity. The rain still had yet to let up – which it wouldn’t, her oxygen-deprived brain reminded her – and she briefly wondered how many humans shacked up inside the supermarket behind them were watching them here, standing out in the pouring rain, kissing like--

Well… like the world was about to end.

Loki moves forward again, at first she thinks to re-initiate their kiss. Instead, she feels the comforting warmth of his forehead pressed against her own, and they both find their eyes sliding shut, any pent-up tension left in their bodies seemingly draining away. She could feel the warm puffs of air against her face every time he breathed out, his breathing matched with her own, and she had no doubt that if their breathing was matched, then the way her previously thumping heart was starting to slow down could only mean that their heartbeats were matching one another, too.

Loki’s hands had dropped down to wrap protectively around her waist, eyes still closed as he savored this moment of peace. Sylvie placed her hand delicately on his chest, though this time not to push him away. She felt the reassuring thud of his heartbeat beneath her hand, unable to suppress the satisfied smile that pulled at her lips at the way his heartbeat sped up as she dragged her fingers across his chest, curling her fingers underneath her palm.

“We will figure this out,” He whispers down to her. Her eyes flick up to meet his, believing his sincere gaze. “Truthfully… I don’t know where to start, either. I mean, I know you spent your whole life running from them, but…”

“The TVA,” Sylvie completed the sentence Loki was clearly reluctant to speak. “You want to go back?”

“Good God, no, not that one. But… But somewhere out there is the one we know, surely? The one that our Mobius was in the middle of transforming? A TVA made of variants that didn’t know they were variants – until now.”

“And should be rightfully pissed,” Sylvie guessed with a knowing smirk. “Maybe enough to get revenge?”

“Maybe,” Loki agreed, mirroring her grin. “And I’m sure they’ll be eager to meet the person who freed them from their controlling dictator.”

Sylvie’s smile wavered at that, poking the tip of her tongue out of her mouth to wet her lips – a nervous gesture from her he’s noticed every now and then, making him wonder if he does the same thing without knowing. “And created infinite amounts of that same controlling dictator, who was apparently the best version of him…”

Loki’s eyes softened at the sight of her guilt as it began to dig its claws into her. He knows too much of that guilt. He felt it too often, failed to fight off the way it tried to drag him down to that pit of self-doubt that took him eons to climb out by himself –more often than not because he refused the help of anyone that offered.

But Sylvie won’t have to fight her way out of this alone. He’ll make sure of it.

“An infinite amount of universes to search through, huh?” Loki wonders out loud, giving a nonchalant shrug of his shoulders. “No problem.”

Sylvie rolled her eyes at his confidence, even if she knew he was greatly exaggerating it right now. “And I suppose that means an infinite amount of us are out there now, too?”

“And an infinite amount of our brother…”

“Wait, our brother?” Sylvie asked, head jerking back in surprise. “Thor is your brother?”

“Um, yes?” Loki frowned down at Sylvie, wondering what she was getting so caught up on. “Why, isn’t he yours?”

“Uh, she certainly isn’t my brother, no.”

Loki’s eyes widened as his mind caught up with what she was saying. “Oh…” He dragged out the syllable, looking out to the stars above in mock horror. “So your Thor is your… your sister?”

“Yep.”

Loki bent his head back with a bellow of genuine laughter, already picturing the glorious scenario of his brother meeting Sylvie’s version of him… Oh, what a sight would be to behold… Actually, the look on Thor’s face would probably be quite similar to the look on his face the moment Sylvie pulled the hood off her head and showed him her face for the very first time.

“Oh, we need to get them together as soon as possible,” Loki said gleefully. “Four of us together? We’d make quite the team.”

“Do you… do you really think she’s out there somewhere?” Sylvie asks, and the vulnerability he hears in her voice stops his laughter altogether. “I barely remember her, you know. After the TVA pruned my timeline, and… and everyone with it, I had to accept that I’d never see her again.”

“If what He Who Remains was telling the entire truth?” Loki says with a shrug of his head to the side. “Then anything’s possible now. Every possibility you can think of, every step that could have been different…”

“An infinite amount of butterfly effects,” Sylvie finished for him.

“It’s almost overwhelming, isn’t it?” Loki drawls with as much sarcasm as he can muster. “Perhaps we should… break it down step by step? First things first being to find Mobius-,”

“-And find the old but improved TVA,” Sylvie adds.

“-And see just how riled up and ready for revenge they are,” Loki agrees. “And… I suppose we should probably find some more powerful allies to help us…”

Sylvie raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. “No offense, but do you even have any other allies?”

“Well… not exactly,” Loki said with a wince. “But I’ve been acquainted with a few… highly powerful individuals. Should probably go and find the versions of them that haven’t met us before, though…”

“Hmm, I imagine they’d be a bit more willing to help when you haven’t tried to claim leadership over their home?”

He probably shouldn’t have been too surprised that she was able to guess that.

“Something about all this still feels so… so strange,” Sylvie tells him.

“Yes, that’d be the feeling of the need to do the right thing for others, and not just yourself,” Loki says with a grimace. “Strange feeling, I know-,”

“Oh, piss off,” Sylvie cursed with a shove to his arm, though the smile on her face took out any venom from her words. “I wasn’t trying to kill the leader of the TVA just for myself, you know.”

“And now you get to do it all over again,” Loki said with a grin, gesturing to the TemPad on her wrist, that of which had already begun glowing with a faint golden light that streaked through its surface like bolts of lightning. “He’s the one that started all of this, right? Then it shouldn’t be too far out of the question that he’s the one that can end it.”

“He did say he’d be seeing me again soon,” Sylvie mumbled, sliding her fingers across the surface of the TemPad. A door sprung to life under her command, manifesting a portal to a dimension that… well, that of which they didn’t know. The second they stepped through that door, they’d be whisked away to a universe beyond their knowing – one that could be infinitely better than the one they were currently in, or one that could be much, much worse.

Their hands found each other once more, fingers sliding together like lock and key as they face the door together. Loki turns his head to face Sylvie the same time she does, matching shaky smiles of both nerves and anticipation on their faces.

“Ready for another adventure?” Loki asks, and the squeeze of her hand in his gives him all the answers he needs.

Whilst they didn’t know what would be waiting for them on the other side of the door, they had been certain that, as they stepped through the Time Door hand in hand and they disappeared out of sight as the warm glow of the portal faded, that the memory of what happened here would only belong to them as the wrath of nature let out her anger on the small town of Haven Hills, Alabama.

But what they didn’t know was that this wasn’t the Haven Hills they knew. This was the version of Haven Hills that didn’t find itself wiped off the map, miraculously avoiding the complete and utter destruction the hurricane was predicted to inflict. It was here, for years and years later, that the survivors that had taken shelter in the nearby Roxxcart would tell the stories of the mysterious strangers in the rain who seemingly appeared together from thin air, shrouded by a veil of golden light that came and went with their arrival and exit.

Rumors would be spread of these two people. As was such in the more religious southern state, the tale of these two strangers would be twisted into one of two angelic beings who had appeared in the glow of Heaven’s light with golden halo’s atop their head, the sheer sight of their loving embrace seemingly bringing God’s wrath to a stop.

There were many iterations of such a story, but there was one consistent detail that remained in every iteration of this timeline's story of them: that the two of them were heroes, who had risked their lives to save the lives of many.

And what else they didn’t know was that this was a story that would spread across multiple worlds, in multiple universes. A beacon of hope in even the dreariest of lands, the legend of these two saviors was one of whispered fantasy that wasn’t quite as much fantasy as some thought, the description of the two figures whose heads were adorned with angelic halo’s slowly changing to ones with protruding horns – no longer the devilish image that such a sight once brought.

These hushed stories would, over time, be reduced to one word. A single word, whispered out by those in the most dire of situations, as if praying to the only God they’ve ever known. This word, this name, would reach the ears of a single man, of every version of this one man, spanning across billions upon billions of timelines. And – despite never having have met the subjects of these stories – he would speak the name out loud to himself as if it were the name of an old friend, waiting for the day they try and stop his work and he gets to greet them personally. The two beings many people had promised would bring him down with their last, dying breath.

Loki.

Next Chapter - - ->

#sylki #sylki fanfiction #sylki fanfic #pro sylki #loki/sylvie #lovedagger #enchantricks

7 notes · View notes

jobean12-blog · 4 years

Text

Eyes on You

Pairing: Tony Stark x reader

Word Count: 684

Summary: You’re out for girl’s night and you get a surprise visit

Author’s Note: This is for the continuation of the HBC’s @the-mcu-horniest-book-club drunk drabbles and the awesome prompt below sent in by @prunes-said-bucky Hope you enjoy this and thank you all very much for reading! Much love always ❤❤❤

Warning: Sassy Tony, flirting, alcohol consumption, protective Tony, sweet fluff at the end :) and Clint being aweosome

“Tony why the hell are we here. I thought we were gonna play poker tonight,” Clint whines, taking a swig of his drink. He promptly spits it out and gives Tony a disgusted look. “And what the hell is this fruity shit. I want a beer!” Tony holds up his hand to silence Clint, his eyes fixed on the dance floor.

Clint follows his line of sight and sees you dancing in a crowd of strangers. Natasha and Wanda are nearby and you’re all holding a drink and swaying your bodies to the music. “Oh my god. We are spying on the girls on their night out!? If Nat finds out I’m here, she’ll have my balls.” Clint is starting to sweat, his panicky movements finally dragging Tony’s eyes away from you.

“Will you shut up already. You’re going to draw attention to yourself and then you know what will happen.” Clint squares his shoulders and sets his lips into a firm line, but not before muttering a few more complaints.

Tony watches as your hips move with the rhythm of the music, the dress you’re wearing leaving little to the imagination. He loosens his tie slightly, hoping to remain cool in front of Clint. “Why is she dancing with that guy?” Clint asks when he notices someone slide up behind you. “Who the hell is he? Do you know him?”

“Now I do,” Tony chides, pressing something on his glasses and having Friday pull up the guys background info. “I don’t like him.” Clint crosses his arms over his chest, “you don’t know him.” Tony motions to the guy, looking him up and down. “He’s not her type.” Now Clint laughs and it’s full and boisterous. “And I suppose you are?”

Tony smirks, not bothering to answer the question. “Looks like you’re busted Legolas.” Clint immediately stiffens, slowly turning toward the dance floor as Nat saunters toward him, murder in her eyes. She doesn’t say a word and grabs him by the arm, pulling him to the door.

Your eyes follow Nat as she leaves the dance floor and you’re surprised to see her headed toward Clint and Tony. You laugh when you see her drag him to the exit, not realizing you’ve gained a new dance partner. The guy smooths his hands down your sides and over your hips, alerting you to his presence. You abruptly move away to give him a hint but unfortunately, he doesn’t take it, sticking close to you.

A flash of bright light catches your attention and you see Tony stalking toward you, the red shiny metal of the iron man suit starting to cover his hand. Rushing away from the stranger you throw your arms around his neck in an attempt to deter him from blasting the guy. “HI TONY! What are you doing here?”

He ushers you away from the crowd and back toward the bar. “Rescuing you apparently!” You lean over the bar and try to get the attention of the bartender. “Tony, I don’t need rescuing. I need a drink.” As soon as the bartender spots Tony he rushes over with a smile asking what you would like. “Wow that was easy.”

“It is when you own the place.” Rolling your eyes, you take a step closer to him. “So. Why are you really here.” The bartender returns with your drinks and you take a sip, eyeing him over the rim of your glass. “Can’t a guy keep an eye on business?”

Without a word you loosen his tie the rest of the way and let it hang over his shoulders. “I think you were here to keep an eye on something else.” Never a man to turn down a challenge he closes the gap between you, whispering against your ear, “and what if I was?” You wind your arm around his neck, letting your fingers comb through his hair. “I’d let you have a dance. Maybe share another drink…then you could take me home.” His smile is haughty when he brushes his lips to yours. “Can’t we just skip the first two?”

@aesthetical-bucky @auro-ora @bugsbucky @buckys-broody-muffin @buckys-minty-breath @bucky-on-my-mind @book-dragon-13 @buckys-henley @breezy1415 @eurynome827 @hiddles-rose @hailmary-yramliah @hawksmagnolia @ikaris-whore @itsunclebucky @jhangelface0523 @jewels2876 @kaosera @loricameback @lorilane33 @littledarlinhavefaithinme @littleredstarfish @mushyjellybeans @marvelgirl7 @marvelandotherfandomimagines @nano--raptor @lokilvrr @pinkdiamond1016 @randomfandompenguin @sallycanwait68 @softpeachbarnes @scarletsoldierrr @tuiccim @addikted-2-dopamine @the-wayward-robot @this-kitten-is-smitten @throwmyheartawayagain @emilylyoness @yansi1923

286 notes · View notes

crashingmeteorz · 4 years

Text

you’d better look out below

an au where tarrlok leaves the north pole with noatak.

title from arcade fire’s “wake up”. word count: 8k. read on ao3.

trigger warnings for: self-harm, child abuse (implied), violence

Tarrlok has asked about their mom four times already, and Noatak can tell by the way he stares off into the northern sky, he’s working up to a fifth.

“She’ll be fine,” snaps Noatak. Tarrlok’s eyes go wide as saucers, and Noatak pretends he can’t see the tears forming there.

“I didn’t say anything-“

“You were thinking it,” Noatak grunts, and the conversation stops abruptly. Tarrlok goes back to gazing out their boat.

It’s slow going, getting out of the north. They’ve been sailing for three days straight, and they can survive on the fish they catch and the salt water they purify, but that doesn’t stop them from going stir-crazy. Noatak would just bend them across the sea, but the noise attaracts the attention of tiger-sharks, and Tarrlok begged him to just rely on the waves and their oars. Noatak wonders darkly if this would have been easier on his own.

Tarrlok is company, at least, but he spends most of the journey worrying over their mother, or asking if they’re close to land. He’s hopeless at bending, compared to Noatak, and he eats a lot for such a scrawny kid. Lately, Noatak’s been fantasizing about pushing him overboard. It wouldn’t be fatal or anything, he’s a waterbender after all, it just might shut him up for longer than 10 minutes.

But Noatak lets the fantasy in, sits with it for a while, and then lets it out. He won’t be like their father anymore.

“She wouldn’t want us to be miserable, Tarrlok,” Noatak says as gently as he can. He doesn’t understand his brother’s concern for her - she never questioned their father’s influence, never wondered why her sons were always so miserable to train with him. But Tarrlok was always the softer one, he wouldn’t hurt a dragonfly even if it bit him on the nose.

“I just don’t want him to take it out on her,” Tarrlok says sadly. It’s certainly a possibility, without his sons to bully anymore. But Noatak’s doubtful.

“He won’t,” says Noatak confidently. “He has nothing to fight for anymore. He’ll just turn into the bitter old man he was always meant to be.”

For the first time all day, Tarrlok seems to relax. He takes off his glove and trails his fingers in the water absently, watching his wobbly reflection stare back at him from the sea. Noatak hunches over, shifting further down into his seat. Tarrlok still enjoys the little things, the feel of the water on his skin, the way the breeze ruffles his coat, the vision of white surrounding them. By the time he was Tarrlok’s age, most of that had been tainted.

It’s confusing, to feel both affection and envy for this quality his brother has. He wants to protect Tarrlok, he wants to be like Tarrlok, he wants Tarrlok out of his life. Noatak doesn’t know how much of his anger is his father, and how much is just him.

“Can we go to Kyoshi Island? I want to see the elephant koi,” says Tarrlok, oblivious as always.

“We’re going to the first port we see and moving inland,” is Noatak’s terse reply. Tarrlok nods sagely, seemingly satisfied. Then-

“So is the first port Kyoshi Island or...?”

“No, Tarrlok,” Noatak says through gritted teeth, “we are not going to Kyoshi Island.”

“Oh, okay,” says Tarrlok, disappointment written all over his face. Noatak can’t find the energy to care. “It’s just-“

“Enough,” says Noatak tersely. Tarrlok clamps his mouth shut. Noatak hates how ugly he sounds, how Tarrlok recoils. It’s a familiar sight, and it’s not one Noatak enjoys.

“I’m sorry,” Noatak says, trying not to sound as irritated as he feels. “I’m just sick of this boat. Things will be better when we reach dry land.”

“How are we gonna pay for stuff?” Noatak asks, immediately forgiving.

“We’ll sell the boat and go from there. If we need to live off the land for a while we can.”

Tarrlok looks backwards, in the direction of what used to be their home.

“I’m glad we left,” Tarrlok says honestly, and Noatak feels a sudden burst of joy. It’s the first time he’s expressed any relief about leaving. “But I think I’ll miss home.”

“One day, you’ll forget all about that place. Besides,” Noatak says, reaching over to clap his brother on the shoulder, “we’re together, Tarrlok. We’ll make a new home.”

It’s mid-afternoon on the fourth day when they spot land. Tarrlok had finally grown irritable as well, and they were liable to strangle each other when he excitedly pointed out the rocky shore.

They sail for another hour before finding a small fishing village where they can dock. Tarrlok had begged for them to just stop near the rocks and bend the water to bring them in safely, but Noatak had refused. They couldn’t risk damaging the boat, it was their only source of income at the moment.

The local fishermen eye the boat curiously. Being of watertribe origin, it’s sturdy and narrow, perfect for avoiding boulders among the rapids. Noatak informs them he won’t settle for less than 30 gold pieces. They laugh in his face.

“Gold pieces?” asks an elderly fisherman. “Boy, we use yuans here, or didn’t you know?”

“I’ll give you 30 yuans for it, how about that?” calls another to uproarious laughter. Noatak’s smart enough to figure out that’d be a robbery, so he grabs Tarrlok by the shoulder and stomps away.

“Where are we going?” asks Tarrlok, ducking his head to avoid the teasing sailors.

“Into the market. Well listen to the sales and try to figure out the going-rate of yuans,” Noatak explains, steering Tarrlok along the winding path.

“Couldn’t we just ask someone?” Tarrlok says in confusion.

“So they can scam us? I don’t think so.”

They spend almost an hour in the market. It takes them 20 minutes just to find items moderately close in value to their boat, and even that is a crapshoot. They end up listening to jewelers and one exotic pet salesman. Tarrlok beams at a sleeping jackalope.

“Isn’t he cold all the way up here?” Tarrlok asks the merchant.

“Oh, very,” says the man in a very sad, and very fake, voice. “Are you going somewhere warmer? Perhaps you could take him with you?”

“Noatak, can we?” Tarrlok asks excitedly. “You said we’re going somewhere warmer -“

“No,” Noatak says, eyeing the price on the jackalope’s cage - 50 yuans, almost a quarter of what he’s thinking of asking for their boat. “And he’s fine, Tarrlok. The desert freezes at night. I’m sure he’s used to it.”

The merchant gives Noatak a nasty look as he nods for Tarrlok to follow him back to the docks. Noatak doesn’t miss the way his brother hangs his head.

“Maybe we can find you a less expensive pet,” Noatak suggests.

“Sure,” Tarrlok says dejectedly. Okay. They might be able to splurge on the jackalope. Besides, it might keep Tarrlok’s attention off of him for a while.

When they get to where they tied the boat, there’s nothing there. Tarrlok isn’t really paying attention, and Noatak knows panicking won’t help, so he circles the docks. And then he does it again.

“You,” he says, shoving a finger at the old man from earlier. “What’d you do with our boat?”

“Tell you what,” says the old man as the sailors snicker, “give me 30 gold pieces, I’ll take you to it!” The fishermen’s laughter roars in his ears. Noatak grabs the front of the old man’s coat with both fists. The dock goes quiet.

“Tell me where my boat is,” Noatak seethes, “or I’ll turn you inside out.”

“Noatak!” shouts Tarrlok. Out of the corner of his eye, Noatak can see the advancing fishermen. He releases the old man, and the other men relax a little.

Then, almost inexplicably, the old man begins walking backwards, inching to the edge of the dock. His eyes bulge out of his skull. He opens his mouth, but no sounds come out. Everyone shouts in concern, yelling for him to stop.

“Noatak,” Tarrlok whispers, reaching out to hold his brother’s hand. When their fingers interlock, Noatak realizes his younger brother is shaking.

The old man stops suddenly, just before the edge of the platform, and falls to his knees. The other sailors run to him, asking him questions, suggesting a heart attack. Noatak and Tarrlok melt away, forgotten.

They sprint back to the marketplace, and Noatak pointedly does not mention the tears streaming down Tarrlok’s face. They round a corner and Noatak skids to a stop. He grabs Tarrlok and they hide in an alleyway, beside the exotic pet hawker.

“Don’t,” Tarrlok whispers.

“You want the jackalope or not?” Noatak asks him, trying to keep anger out of his voice. Tarrlok looks to the greasy merchant, to the animal far too big for its cage. He nods.

Noatak tries to be quick, not out of mercy, but out of a desire not to arouse suspicion. The merchant chokes out a protest, but is unable to stop himself from picking up the keys and unlocking the jackalope’s cage. He pokes at the thing, once, twice, and then the animal is awake and bounding out into the sunlight.

Tarrlok waits until it is about to pass their alleyway and reaches out, cuddling it. At first the jackalope struggles, scratching Tarrlok’s cheek with its antlers, and then it relaxes, nosing at Tarrlok’s chest.

“He smells the sea prunes,” Tarrlok says laughing. Noatak watches as the merchant gets his bearings back and starts looking around frantically.

“He can eat them later, let’s go,” Noatak grunts, and the two of them sprint out of the market, the animal seller none the wiser.

Later, when they make camp in a cave along the forested path, the jackalope is resting in Tarrlok’s lap and Tarrlok’s stroking its ears thoughtfully.

“What’s on your mind?” Noatak asks him, all venom gone. Even with their earlier failures, Noatak’s just relieved to be on solid ground.

“We could’ve been caught today,” Tarrlok tells him. “They would’ve arrested us.”

“No one can bloodbend in daylight except for dad, and everyone assumes he died over 15 years ago,” Noatak tells him. “You heard them, they thought the old man had a heart attack.”

“What about the merchant?”

“No one saw that, Tarrlok,” Noatak says tiredly, flopping down by the fire.

“Still, if they talk, they might put it together, it could come back to us-“

“Tarrlok, we’re not getting caught,” Noatak says firmly. Tarrlok frowns and goes back to petting the jackalope.

“That’s not all,” he says after a little while. “I shouldn’t have let you bloodbend that merchant. It wasn’t right.”

“He’s a lowlife scam artist, just like those sailors and he deserved-“

“You’ve never been bloodbent before, Noatak. How could you know that they deserved it?”

Noatak doesn’t really know what to say to that. Guilt pools in his belly and slithers it’s way up to his chest, wrapping around his heart.

“We’re starting over, right?” Tarrlok asks him after what feels like forever.

“Right,” Noatak agrees.

“Then no more bloodbending.”

“Tarrlok-“

“No more bloodbending, Noatak,” Tarrlok says severely, staring hard at his brother. “Or I leave.”

Then leave, hisses a nasty voice in Noatak’s head, but it’s practically drowned out by the rushing panic. Tarrlok can’t leave - Noatak is doing this, all of this for Tarrlok. He doesn’t know what he’s doing out here if his brother isn’t with him.

“Fine,” he relents. “We’re good enough waterbenders without it, anyway.”

Tarrlok smiles at him, and the ocean of fear in Noatak’s ears dulls to a trickle. It’s not ideal, but then maybe it’s for the best. Bloodbending, more than anything else, was his father’s most precious lesson. If he and Tarrlok abandoned it now, Yakone’s teachings would die with them.

“We’re really sticking it to dad, huh?” Tarrlok says as though he’s read Noatak’s mind, unable to keep the glee out of his voice.

“Yeah,” Noatak agrees grinning, “we are.”

They spend the entire next day walking. They happen upon a traveling fruit vendor and offer some water tribe delicacies in exchange for fresh apples and moon peaches. They get sticky from the juices, and Tarrlok’s jackalope licks his face clean.

“You’ll have to name the thing,” Noatak tells him, trying and failing not to smile at the two of them. He can’t remember the last time Tarrlok looked so happy.

“I’m thinking Jack,” Tarrlok says, lying flat on his back and allowing the animal to sit on his chest and lap at his cheeks.

“You’re not serious?” Noatak asks him incredulously. “That is the stupidest name I’ve ever heard.”

“Well, what’s your idea?” Tarrlok says, sitting suddenly. The jackalope squeaks indignantly, and then stretches up to resume its feast.

“What about Zhī?” he asks. Tarrlok laughs loudly.

“Perfect!” he says. “From now on, youre T - hey don’t lick inside my mouth you weirdo!”

They move on, traveling for almost a week. Noatak struggles to hunt without bloodbending, but together they manage to develop a system - Tarrlok frightens the animals in Noatak's direction, and then Noatak stuns them with a water whip. It's not fail-safe, but it gets them some meat, at least. One day they travel for almost 12 hours without food, only stopping to rest their feet, climbing winding hills until the sun is just beginning to set. At last they spot a large, walled-in structure sitting prettily at the bottom of a mountain. Tarrlok’s stomach growls.

“We’ll see if they’re willing to trade,” Noatak says, and they make their way to the front gates, only to find out the structure is an abbey. Both boys bow upon being welcomed in by the Mother Superior.

“Where are your parents?” asks one of the sisters, who offers them supper, much to the brothers’ relief.

“They passed away a month ago,” Noatak says quickly. It’s not a total lie - he and Tarrlok ran into the blizzard about a month ago, around the same time Noatak had decided his parents were dead to him. The nuns all make varying noises of distress, and Noatak arranges his face to look appropriately sad. Tarrlok just keeps chewing until his brother nudges him, and then he bows his head to hide his stuffed cheeks.

“There’s a large sanctuary south of here, but it’s quite the journey,” says the woman who fed them, Sister Meifen. “You two are welcome to stay here, until we can find you proper arrangements.”

“Thank you, but-“

“Is it okay if Zhī stays, too?” asks Tarrlok, picking up the jackalope and showing them all. The nuns titter at the animal, and reach out to pet the its fluffy ears.

Noatak isn’t sure how it happens, but before he knows it, he and Tarrlok have each been given a mat and linens for bed. They’re told the nuns wake early, so don’t expect to sleep in. Noatak doesn’t really know why it matters if they sleep in, because they’re not nuns, but he agrees anyway.

“Tarrlok, we can’t stay here,” Noatak whispers to his brother. “We’re not getting sent to any sanctuary.”

“Then what are we doing?” Tarrlok asks him.

“I don’t know, but I’ll be 18 soon, so I can be your guardian-“

“In four years!” hisses Tarrlok. Noatak shushes him.

“I look older than I am,” Noatak whispers. “We’ll get jobs somewhere, Omashu, maybe.”

“But that’s so far from here!” Tarrlok argues. Noatak rolls his eyes.

“How do you know that?” he asks his younger brother. “You don’t even know where Kyoshi Island is.” Tarrlok pouts.

“Sister Meifen said so,” Tarrlok says, sticking his tongue out. “What about Republic City? That’s just south of here-“

“We are not going there,” Noatak interrupts coldly. “Or did you forget where dad grew up?”

Tarrlok shuffles under his blanket. Zhī snorts a little and adjusts as Tarrlok moves.

“I didn’t think that would matter,” Tarrlok says in a small voice.

“Of course it matters,” Noatak says bitterly, even though he’s not exactly sure why. Then, with less heat, “We’ll find a place. A village or something."

Tarrlok doesn't say anything in response. Noatak waits him out

"But, in the meantime, we can stay here, okay?" Noatak says after a while, as a peace offering. "It's safe and they'll keep us fed. We'll just have to listen in, make sure they don't plan anything without telling us. I'll see if I can find some maps, maybe you can finally learn to read one, right Tarrlok? Tarrlok?"

Noatak nudges his brother lightly, but the younger boy only lets out a snore. Noatak sighs and settles into his mat. There are worse places to be in, and as mistrustful as he is, he doesn't really think a bunch of nuns will try to trick them.

He also thought their boat was safe in the fishing village. Suddenly, Noatak's wide awake. He scooches closer to Tarrlok. Their father never went into detail about his work in Republic City, but Noatak recalls a few stories of children going missing. The superstitious blamed it on spirits. Their father blamed it on interested buyers.

"What does that mean?" a much younger Tarrlok had asked. Yakone only let out a dark laugh. If Noatak's certain of anything on this journey, he's certain he'll do anything to protect Tarrlok, and he doesn't care who he has to hurt to do it, nuns included.

Noatak doesn't remember falling asleep, but the next thing he knows he's being shaken awake.

"What is it, what's wrong?" he barks, sitting straight up. Tarrlok is squatting in front of him with a sleepy smile and messy hair. At least someone slept well.

"Nothing," Tarrlok says happily. "But Mother Superior says we need to earn our keep, whatever that means."

"It means she's putting us to work," Noatak grumbles, motioning for Tarrlok to turn so he can fix his hair. He begins to affix the usual pair of ponytails, and then stops himself.

"Wanna try a different style?" Noatak asks.

"I don't know," says Tarrlok. "I always wear it this way."

"What about something more traditional, like the chief wears?" suggests Noatak. Tarrlok hesitates a moment too long, and Noatak begins to part his hair in disappointment.

"Sure," Tarrlok says suddenly. "Let's try it." Noatak grins. He combs Tarrlok's hair and gathers a section of it up in the center of his head, pulling it into a ponytail, making sure to include side pieces so that it stays out of the boy's face.

"You missed a piece," Tarrlok singsongs, picking up a chunk of hair by his right ear and waving it with his fingers.

"Not necessarily." Noatak makes a small braid out of the hanging piece, leaves the end free, and then affixes the beads they usually use on Noatak's two low-hanging ponytails. He ties the braid.

"Aren't these for warriors?" Tarrlok asks him hesitantly, taking the braid between his fingers.

"They signify battles won," Noatak says. He does not elaborate any further. "Leave it. It suits you."

He fixes his own hair, and then they're off to report to Sister Meifen.

The nun is delighted when they tell her they're waterbenders. She shows them the perfumes the nuns make here at the abbey, as well as the scented soaps and bath products. She asks them if they'd be willing to help her separate the vats of solution into smaller vials. She explains that they sell their products as a means of fundraising for the abbey, and that excess sales go to the less fortunate.

"Did you know," Sister Meifen says almost smugly, "that the great Chief Katara once stayed here? She, Councilman Sokka, and Avatar Aang used this abbey as a resting place during the avatar's preparation to fight the Firelord."

"How interesting," Noatak says evenly, exchanging an awkward look with Tarrlok. They'd certainly heard a lot about Chief Katara and the others, though none of it as reverential as Sister Meifen might think.

"Who knows?" says the nun, raising her eyesbrows playfully at them. "Maybe you two will prove just as talented as her."

Noatak doesn't really know how he manages not to roll his eyes. The effort almost gives him a headache.

It's easy work, more precision than anything else, which Tarrlok has always struggled with. After his third spill, he curses and balls his fist.

"Careful," mutters Noatak, effortlessly dividing the perfume up into 10 different vials. "I don't think they'd like your language."

"I don't get it," Tarrlok groans. His cheeks redden with frustration. "This is easy. Why can't I do it?"

"You haven't had to bend in a while. Take a break."

Tarrlok doesn't seem satisfied, squeezing his nails into his palms, straightening his hands out to stretch his fingers, and then repeating the process. Noatak glances over to his brother and realizes Tarrlok's palms are red and raw. He stops his work.

"Tarrlok," he says in what he hopes is a calming voice. It still comes out nastier than he'd like.

"What?" his brother snaps, fingers still curling in and out, in and out. Noatak reaches for his hand. Tarrlok freezes, and looks down in confusion.

"We'll work on your control another time," Noatak tells him, and it comes out too sharp. He loosens his grip on Tarrlok's hand significantly, speaks in almost a whisper. "Let's see if we can find a different job for you."

"What's the point?" Tarrlok asks, voice tight. "I'll just screw it up."

"Dad's not here, Tarrlok," Noatak tells him sternly, making sure not to let his hand squeeze. "Don't let him get to you from across the ocean."

Tarrlok nods, though he's clearly still upset. They find the sisters feeding Zhī bits of whatever it is they're preparing for lunch. Fortunately the jackalope has a sense of loyalty, and bounds over to Tarrlok the moment he spots him, leaping into the boy's arms. Tarrlok brightens considerably.

"Tarrlok hurt his wrist the other day," Noatak says easily. Tarrlok side-eyes him, and then lets his right wrist hang limp atop Zhī. "I can continue filling the vials, but it irritates his hand. Is there somewhere else he can help?"

Fortunately the nuns seem to see Tarrlok as a little darling, and are more than happy to give him a less intensive job.

"But for now," Sister Meifen tells them, "you've earned a break. It's lunchtime."

They stay at the abbey for one week, and then two. Tarrlok follows Sister Meifen around like a loyal dog, and Noatak successfully bites his tonuge. Tarrlok's obviously latching on to the first kind woman he meets, but he's happy, and he's not bringing up their mother as much, so Noatak leaves it.

The nuns aren't quite as fond of Noatak, which is no surprise. Boys stop being cute once they start to look like men, and Tarrlok has enough baby fat left to get his cheeks pinched by older women with no sense of personal boundaries. It probably doesn't help that Noatak watches Tarrlok like a hawk, often pausing his work when he hasn't heard Zhī’s surprisingly loud squeaks or the sound of Tarrlok's laughter. The latter is almost a shoddy indicator - he's not used to hearing it so often, but he's warming up to the sound.

In any event, Noatak gets his work done in record time each day, and when he finishes he offers to assist in other areas. It's not exactly a deep relationship, but the nuns are grateful for his willingness to work. They always give him extra helpings at meals. One evening he notices Tarrlok staring into his cleared plate, so he offers some of his own food. Tarrlok greedily accepts.

"Tarrlok, why didn't you just say you were still hungry?" Mother Superior gently scolds him. Tarrlok freezes like a deer in headlights.

"I, I'm sorry-"

"You should have offered him more food," Noatak says sharply. The table goes quiet.

"It's my fault, Mother Superior," Sister Meifen says. "I always give Tarrlok snacks during the day, but today we were so busy scent-testing we didn’t stop for anything. I should have told him he could ask for seconds."

The sister and Mother Superior exchange a look that Noatak doesn't understand, but they seem to come to some sort of agreement, and dinner resumes. Tarrlok blushes furiously, leaving the food untouched until Noatak nudges him.

"Eat," Noatak says. "Also, when were you going to share your snacks, huh?"

Tarrlok grins sheepishly, and finishes his dinner.

In the evenings before bed, they practice waterbending. Noatak recalls what his father would say, how he would react, and tries to do the opposite of that. He finds himself getting frustrated easily when Tarrlok messes up, but he keeps the anger from seeping out into his tone. He overcompensates when Tarrlok gets it right, complimenting him profusely. It feels fake, but Tarrlok's smile is genuine, so he keeps at it.

By their third week, Tarrlok joins him at the perfume. He's thinking too hard about it, hyping it up too much. He waltzes up to the ceramic pots like they're a pack of wolves ready to strike. When he first goes to divide up the liquid, he spills it all on the stones.

"Breathe," Noatak tells him in a calm voice, clamping down on the part of him that's laughing viciously. "It's just perfume, Tarrlok. You can do this in your sleep."

Tarrlok nods, too seriously, but does as Noatak says, takes a deep calming breath, and bends the perfume perfectly. Noatak smiles broadly, telling Tarrlok he did great, and it feels genuine this time.

They get through all of the vials without a single mess. It takes almost as long as when Noatak worked alone, due to Tarrlok's cautious approach, but when they finish Tarrlok's beaming with pride. Sister Meifen takes his face in her hands and congratulates him on his improvement.

"Noatak's a great teacher," he says happily. Sister Meifen nods almost gratefully at Noatak. He doesn't nod back. She's been acting like she's Tarrlok's mother, like Noatak’s some wayward stranger who took this precious kid under his wing. Everything about this place makes Noatak feel like he's a transient and Tarrlok's their newest resident.

He's antsy to leave.

The nuns get antsy as well, towards the end of their third week there. He'd noticed them cleaning with more vigor, returning from the market with a variety of fruits, vegetables, and, to Tarrlok's delight, sweets. They're all whispering to each other hurriedly, but when Noatak gets near, they quiet at once and go about their day. It's infuriating.

"You need to try and find out what's going on around here," Noatak mutters to Tarrlok while they're dividing up the perfumes. "Don't make it obvious, but see what you can find out from Sister Meifen."

"She said something about a party yesterday," Tarrlok says nonchalantly. "It's probably that."

Noatak freezes his motions and nearly drops the liquid. He sends the perfume shooting down so viciously into the vials that they shatter. Tarrlok stops what he's doing, surprised.

"It's a going-away party." Noatak feels his whole body shaking with anger. He can only think of one reason the nuns would keep this from him, wouldn’t just tell them they've found a suitable sanctuary.

They're going to separate Noatak from Tarrlok.

Well, they're going to try. They'll have to kill him first, and somehow he doesn't think these nuns have it in them.

"Noatak?" Tarrlok asks, but Noatak doesn't hear him. His ears are ringing too loud.

"Finish this...crap," Noatak spits out, stalking away to find Mother Superior. A thousand scenarios run through his head, each more violent than the last. Several of them involve bloodbending Sister Meifen off a cliff.

When he gets inside, he hears male voices, and it's all the confirmation he needs.

"It's truly an honor to host you-" Mother Superior is saying when Noatak rips open the curtain and reveals-

The Avatar. The literal Avatar. Avatar Aang is talking to Mother Superior. There's another man with him, much younger and with skin closer to Noatak's, but wearing the same air nomad robes and sharing the same surprised expression.

"Noatak!" Mother Superior starts in surprise, eyebrows drawn together sternly. She's too startled by his sudden appearance to say much else. Noatak shakes his head and gathers himself, remembering his resolve.

"Are you going to take me away?" he asks The Actual Real Life Avatar, pointing an accusatory finger in his face. Mother Superior looks scandalized. The Avatar just looks amused.

"I don't think so," Avatar Aang, THE Avatar Aang says slowly. "Did you want me to take you away?"

"No." Noatak lowers his finger slowly as realization hits him. The nuns are throwing a party. The Avatar is here. The Avatar doesn't know who he is.

"The party's for you," Noatak says, thinking out loud and feeling incredibly stupid.

"A party?" asks the legendary, bridge-between-the-worlds, bringer-of-peace Avatar, clapping his hands in delight.

"Well, yes, of a kind, but, Noatak!" says Mother Superior. "What in the world are you doing, bursting in here like this? And accosting Avatar Aang like that, it's the height of disrespect-"

"Please, Mother Superior," the very-much real Avatar says with what can only be described as a goofy grin on his face, "I barely respect myself. It seems like there may have been a miscommunication." He gestures to Noatak, and Noatak realizes he's being asked to speak.

"I thought you were throwing a going-away party," he tells Mother Superior with as much dignity as he can muster, "for me. I thought you were separating Tarrlok and I."

As an afterthought, he bows to the Avatar. Mother Superior walks over to Noatak, and he absolutely refuses to back away despite his screaming instincts. To his surprise, she cups his cheek in her hand.

"Dear boy," the Mother Superior says in the softest voice he's ever heard her use, "I would never separate you from your brother. Frankly, we'd keep you both all to ourselves, but it's not right to deprive children the opportunity for a loving family out of selfishness."

Noatak allows himself to lean into the older woman's warm touch, for just the barest of seconds. He uses it to ground himself. The nun's confession is overwhelming, to say the least.

Then he stands straight and bows deeply to her, far deeper and far longer than he did for the living-legend Avatar.

"I apologize, Mother Superior," Noatak says sincerely, gravely. "I misread the situation. I did not mean to embarass you." She smiles at him a moment longer, and then turns back to her usual severe self.

"Go get your brother and wash up. We have guests."

Noatak's too relieved to notice the curious look Avatar Aang gives him as he turns on his heel to go find Tarrlok.

"Do you think he's hear to arrest us?" Tarrlok asks for what feels like the millionth time as Noatak brushes his hair. The nuns have prepared a luncheon feast, and it seems all work activities for the day have been cancelled.

"No, Tarrlok," Noatak says tiredly. He doesn't have the strength for his usual annoyance. The day's earlier panic knocked him out. "He didn't even know who I was."

"What if he was just pretending?" Tarrlok presses.

"He's the Avatar," Noatak reminds him, placing the beads at the end of Tarrlok's braid - he's been wearing his hair this way since Noatak first suggested it. "He took dad's bending away. He doesn't need to pretend."

"I can't believe you talked to him," Tarrlok gushes, switching tones with lightning speed. Noatak doesn't know how he does it. "What was he like?"

Noatak had, smartly, in his opinion, left out a few key details of his encounter with the Avatar.

"Fine," Noatak says in a bored voice as he brushes his own hair. Tarrlok rolls his eyes, dissatisfied.

"Nice," Noatak adds. "Dopey."

"Dopey?" Tarrlok repeats. "He's the Avatar! How could he be dopey?"

"Ask him yourself," Noatak suggests, standing once his own ponytail's secure. Tarrlok follows suit and they head into the dining hall.

"I'm not asking the Avatar if he's dopey," Tarrlok mutters under his breath. Noatak grins.

They dine on fruits and nuts, and then they are served sweet buns and bean curry. There's no meat, presumably since the Avatar and his company are vegetarians, but it's very filling. Tarrlok can't get enough of it. They nuns have pushed away the tables and set up mats like the ones Noatak and Tarrlok have been sleeping on. It's the most casual Noatak's ever seen the abbey. He and Tarrlok find a pair of corner mats and keep to themselves.

"May we join you?" says a deep, friendly voice. Tarrlok's jaw drops, and so does the dumpling he was holding. Avatar Aang and the younger man he was with are standing above them. The Avatar is smiling broadly, the other man looks like he's trying to smile, but it's something akin to a grimace. Noatak very badly wants to say no, but after his earlier display, he owes it to the nuns to be polite.

"It would be our honor," he answers, bowing his head. Tarrlok swallows whatever was in his mouth and bows as well. The Avatar and his companion settle beside them.

"We were never properly introduced," he says kindly, looking between the brothers. "I'm Aang, and this is my son, Tenzin."

Tenzin bows his head.

"Noatak," he says, pointing to himself, "and Tarrlok."

"I wanted to say I'm terribly sorry about your parents," Avatar Aang says seriously, and Tarrlok freezes again. "When Mother Superior told me how recently you lost them, my heart broke for you."

Noatak doesn't think Tarrlok could sigh any louder. Fortunately, the Avatar seems to take it as a display of sadness.

"Thank you," Noatak says politely. "We'll be alright, as long as we have each other."

Avatar Aang smiles sadly at him.

"I'm glad to hear it," he says, and in spite of his misgivings, Noatak is inclined to believe him. Their father had always spoken of the Avatar's weakness, his bleeding heart. Noatak eventually took that to mean that Avatar Aang possessed compassion, which Yakone was sorely unfamilar with.

"I'm going to sound like everyone's grandpa," the Avatar continues, looking at an absolutely starstruck Tarrlok, "but when I was your age, my friends were all the family I had. I know how important it is to have someone you can rely on."

Noatak realizes with a start he's talking about Chief Katara and the other important people his father despised. For some reason Noatak still feels a pang of anger for Chief Katara, mixed in somewhere with his anger for Yakone. Misplaced loyalty, maybe? He's not sure.

"What brought you to the abbey?" Tarrlok asks curiously.

"I thought it would be nice to visit the sisters, their abbey’s on the way home from the Southern Air Temple. You see, it was time for Tenzin here to select an air bison," Aang says proudly, clapping his son on the shoulder. "Traditionally air nomads choose their bisons during childhood, but we needed to ensure the herd was healthy and happy before separating them. Tell them his name!"

Tenzin blushes furiously, which Noatak finds pretty funny considering he's a grown-man.

"Oogi," he says quietly, but the man's baritone reverberates whether he wants it to or not. Noatak can't help it. He barks out a laugh, and quickly attempts to cover it up with a cough.

"That's great!" Tarrlok says sincerely. He whistles, and his jackalope comes careening towards them. Noatak's not sure when he tought him that trick. Tarrlok holds the animal up proudly, and Noatak notes it's getting a little heavy in the middle. "This is Zhī!"

"Hello, Zhī," Aang beams, reaching out to the jackalope and offering it a carrot. Zhī sniffs at the vegetable, and then leaps a little too excitedly, landing on Aang's head. Noatak and Tarrlok gasp in horror. The Avatar and Tenzin laugh.

"I'm great with animals," Aang chuckles, extracting Zhī and setting him in his lap while the jackrabbit munches on the carrot. Tarrlok, for his part, is ecstatic about this turn of events and chats happily with Aang and Tenzin, trading animal stories. The Avatar mentions his lemur, Momo, who apparently resides on Air Temple Island for the most part. Tarrlok asks them if they've ever encountered another jackalope in their travels.

"They're usually found in the Ba Sing Se Desert," Tenzin muses. "This one's pretty far from home. Where did you happen to find him?"

Tarrlok glances at Noatak nervously.

"We met it in the fishing village north of here," Noatak says, smooth as anything, "there was an exotic animal merchant there, and he accidentally let some of the animals out. We would have brought him back, but Zhī didn't seem to be very well cared for."

Tenzin nods, smiling at little at him, apparently satisfied with the explanation. Aang squints a little, his calm expression never faltering. Noatak stares back at the Avatar with what he hopes is a neutral expression. He also hopes Tarrlok is smart enough to keep his head down.

"Well, I can't fault you," Aang says lightly. "I'm an animal-lover myself, after all. I hate the thought of them feeling uncomfortable. It's why we left the bisons a little south of here, Oogi isn't great with small spaces just yet."

"They're here?" Tarrlok asks in wonder. Aang smiles warmly at him.

"Would you like to meet them? After dessert, of course."

Tarrlok again looks to Noatak, who glares at his younger brother. Why would the Avatar offer them such a thing? He's certain Aang doesn't know they're Yakone's sons, but he doesn't know what the endgame is here. What reason would the Avatar have to introduce a pair of orphans to his precious air bisons?

"Sure," Noatak says after mulling it over. He'll just have to stay on his guard. If he and Tarrlok need to make a daring escape, well, it's about time they move along, anyway.

Tarrlok tears through his fruit tarts like a rabid platypus-bear, except sloppier. Aang and Tenzin leave to sit with the nuns, and Noatak hears them expressing gratitude for the traditional air nomad meals. Noatak had always beleived that the monks ate very little, refusing indulgences. But while Tenzin appears more reserved, Avatar Aang digs into his deserts almost as heartily as Tarrlok. He's nothing like Noatak would expect. He's just kind of...

Dopey.

"I can't believe we're eating with the Avatar," Tarrlok says through a moutful of macaroons. Then, lowering his voice to a whisper he says, "Imagine the look on dad's face."

Noatak silences him with a glare.

It's late afternoon when the Avatar and his son finally stop chatting with the nuns and suggest they go meet Appa and Oogi. Noatak fills his waterskin up, just in case. He's not idiotic enough to think he could win against the Avatar in a fight, but he's sure he could create enough of a diversion to buy them time to escape.

They follow the winding path to a wooded area, and Aang cups his hands around his mouth.

"Appa!" he calls in a singsong. "Appa! Oogi! Where are you?" In response, something among the trees lets out a loud groan. Aang, at nearly 60 years old, takes off at a run towards the bison.

"Dad!" Tenzin shouts, running after him. Noatak and Tarrlok glance at each other, and then they're following suit. They tear through the brush and leaves, Tarrlok giggling all the while, Zhī being jostled under the boy's arm. Noatak hears the groan again and turns a sharp corner, barely managing to grab Tarrlok by the elbow so that he doesn't go sprinting off in the wrong direction. At last they crash through a clearing, and are greeted by the sight of two grown-men cuddling up to a pair of enrmormous furry creatures.

"Wow," Tarrlok breathes, and Noatak can't help but feel the same sense of awe. The bisons are huge, bigger than they could have ever imagined. The biggest creatures up north are the yaks, and they don't hold a candle to Appa and Oogi. And the bisons are, for lack of a better term, adorable - fluffy and incredibly affectionate, if the way they respond to their masters' attention is any indication.

"Come meet them!" Aang calls, waving them over. Tarrlok doesn't hesitate, he runs over to Oogi, the closest one, and immediately begins petting the bison's face. Zhī struggles free of Tarrlok's hold and begins sniffing at Oogi's feet. Noatak is more cautious, approaching Appa slowly. He's never loved animals the way Tarrlok does, but he's more than happy to get a closer look at the unusual beast.

"He won't bite," Aang says gently after Noatak just stands in front of Appa for a few minutes, staring. Noatak still doesn't really care to pet the animal, but he can tell how highly the Avatar regards Appa, and he doesn't want to insult him. Steadying himself, Noatak reaches out to gingerly presse his hand to the bison's wet nose. Noatak holds his breath. Then, Appa leans into the touch, letting out a low snort.

Something both foreign and familiar washes over Noatak. It's not an emotion he can identify, but it feels warm.

He and Tarrlok spend the next few hours playing with the bison. Appa is far older than Oogi, evident by the slow way he moves and the gray around his eyes, but Noatak is more than happy to sit by the bison's belly and rest in his fur. Avatar Aang sits beside him. Oogi is excitable, jumping around the clearing with Tarrlok, and eventually Tenzin, once he loosens up. The airbenders tell them all about the bisons, how they can fly long distances without growing tired, how they can carry whole families on their backs, how they're inherently gentle creatures.

"Oogi came from the Northern Air Temple," Aang explains proudly. "An old friend of mine, Teo, he's been helping to repopulate them up there. He designed Oogi's saddle, actually."

They talk for hours, the sun going lower and lower, and Noatak grows tired, comfortable in the softness of Appa's fur. Even Tarrlok and Oogi tire eventually, flopping down among the leaves.

"It's getting late," Tenzin says, producing some snacks for Appa and Oogi as he speaks. "We should head back to the abbey for the evening." Aang nods, and, in the first display of airbending Noatak's seen yet, the Avatar breezes effortlessly into a standing position. He offers Noatak his hand. Noatak eyes him suspiciously, and then, letting exhaustion win, allows himself to be pulled up.

The journey back to the abbey feels far longer than the first time. When they arrive, Tarrlok is swept up into a loving hug by Sister Meifen, and she even reaches out to hug Noatak as well, although he doesn't reciprocate. Noatak doesn't know why she's being so affectionate, they were only gone for a few hours.

When he and Tarrlok find their sleeping quarters, they both fall asleep the moment they lay down.

In the morning they're roused by Mother Superior.

"Get dressed, you two," she says. "The Avatar would like to speak with you."

"Couldn't he speak with us after sunrise?" Tarrlok whines, rubbing at his eyes. Noatak puts himself together quickly, a ball of nerves. He's not sure why Aang has taken such an interest in them, but he was under the impression the Avatar would be leaving today. They already saw the bison, what else is there to do?

When Noatak and Tarrlok trudge over to Aang, Tarrlok's still half asleep. He's tied his coat around his waist and has Zhī sleeping in the hood. Both the Avatar and his son are meditating. Aang peeks an eye open as he hears their footsteps approach.

"Ah!" he says, motioning them over. They sit cross-legged in front of him, and Tarrlok practically sits on Zhī who squeaks and trudges into the boy's lap. "I'm sorry about the early wake-up call, but Tenzin and I are leaving soon, and I wanted to discuss something with you both. Well, you three."

"Is everything alright?" Noatak asks in as relaxed a voice as he can muster. Aang smiles warmly at him.

"Yes, Noatak, everything's fine. You aren't in trouble," Aang says. Noatak feels his heart slow down, lets his facial features relax.

"I told you last night I was devastated to hear about what happened to you," Aang explains. "Mother Superior told me how you're both talented waterbenders. I immediately felt like our meeting was more than luck - like we were all meant to be here in this place, at this time."

"I am fortunate enough to be married to the Chief of the Southern Water Tribe, and, in my biased opinion, one of the greatest waterbenders the world has ever known. Although I'm sure I'm not alone in saying so," Aang adds, winking.

"What I'm trying to say is - if the two of you are looking for a more permanent home, I would be honored if you would return to the Southern Water Tribe with me."

Noatak's mouth flies open, but no words come out. Tarrlok's eyes are practically bursting out of his head. Zhī, oblivious, sighs sleepily.

"Like...to live with you?" is all Noatak can manage. Tenzin chuckles. Aang inclines his head.

"If you'd like," the Avatar says, voice light but sincere.

"But you're the Avatar," Tarrlok says in confusion. Aang laughs, throwing an arm around his son.

"I'm also a father to three incredible young people, if I do say so myself," he says merrily. He retracts his arm and looks seriously between Noatak and Tarrlok. "You're under no obligation to come with me. If it's not what you want, I completely understand."

"How do you know Chief Katara won't mind?" Noatak asks him suspiciously. Aang smiles, his eyes lighting up with adoration.

"If you knew my mother," Tenzin tells them, "you wouldn't even be asking that question. Helping people is her passion."

Every fiber of Noatak's body is screaming in protest, telling him to grab Tarrlok and run for the sea, to run far away from these men and their promises. But he's planted in place, rooted by disbelief and confusion, and, worst of all, hope. It seems too good to be true. But then, if it is true, there's no where safer for him and Tarrlok from their father than the other side of the world, among the people Yakone hates most.

"May I speak with my brother?" Noatak asks. Aang inclines his head again, and he and Tarrlok step out into a hallway, leaving Zhī in the airbenders’ care.

"I think we should go with them," Tarrlok says the moment they're out of earshot. Noatak grimaces.

"I think we should discuss it," Noatak says irritably. "We can't just go with them-"

"What, like we just left the North Pole?" Tarrlok hisses. "He's the Avatar, he won't hurt us."

Noatak bites his tongue, refusing to let spill all the angry words about how parents aren't supposed to hurt you, either. Now's not the time for that discussion.

"Tarrlok," he says, trying desperately to convey severity. Thankfully, Tarrlok closes his mouth and listens. "If we do this, that's it. We live in the South Pole from now on. We listen to Avatar Aang and Chief Katara. We're Noatak and Tarrlok, the tragic boys who lost their parents. We give up our freedom."

"I don't think we're giving up our freedom," Noatak says, looking back towards the room where they left Aang. "Aang - the Avatar, he seems like he loves freedom. I just think we'd be safe."

Noatak looks back towards the room as well. They could say no, grab Zhī, and head southeast, towards Ba Sing Se. They'd make it, he's sure, living off scraps, resting their heads somewhere new each month, doing odd jobs. They could survive like that for a few years, until Noatak found a decent job. But would they be happy?

Noatak can practically feel Appa's soft fur under his hands. He can hear Tarrlok's hysterical laughter as Oogi and Zhī licked him mercilessly.

"Okay," Noatak says to Aang, once they've reentered the room. "We'll go with you."

69 notes · View notes

avengers-fics · 4 years

Text

The Island

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Summary: You own a safe house designated for the avengers. A couple years ago they all came to visit. Little did they know, Bucky had won his way into your heart.

Warning: none

Word Count: 2.3k

2020

The hot sun beats down, beads of sweat begin to form on your forehead. With a swish of your hand you wipe away the droplets that drip down your forehead. Pruning and planting the different crops for spring always took time, but that was all you had to do on your little island. That, and think about the love of your life and the hands that planted this garden in the early fall time. Thinking of the memory of your butt planted in a beach chair while watching his bent over frame in the garden boxes, planting strawberries and various greens.

A slight buzz in your beach bag catches your attention and you think nothing of it; most likely a news notification regarding the recent breakout. After hearing another ping, something in your gut tells you to check it. Walking through the thick sand surrounding your house, you bend over to retrieve your cell phone and realize that the buzzing continues from the second pocket. The emergency phone that hasn’t gone off in a few months is now alive with sound, and with your stomach dropping into your toes; you answer.

“Need any groceries?” Natalia’s familiar tone gives you friendly butterflies in your stomach, as she is one of your longest friends. You hadn’t heard her voice since Thanos had ruined the planet with the snap of his fingers. It was almost a relief to hear her raspy tone. Even then she didn’t want to bother you, or more likely find out if you had survived the initial snap (Which you did).

Without missing a beat, “Just pickles,” The familiar code for ‘the coast is clear’, “Maybe some vodka if you’re stopping.” You added with a smile. Nat happily said she would bring you a couple bottles, and with that she hung up the phone. After taking a shuddering breath, you tossed the phone back in your bag. This meant you had to make some rounds and change sheets in the different guest bedrooms, and actually wash the dishes in your sink. Your lab would be beyond happy to have some different but familiar faces around the little compound.

Seeing the familiar tiny red boat pull ashore that afternoon to your island always brought a smile to your face, along with the red head manning the small vessel. For the first time you noticed a few beefy men in tow, which made your eyebrows rise in surprise. Nat climbed ashore with a couple of manly hands held out to aid her. Then with the small boat anchored, the few men climbed ashore. Of course you knew who they all were, who wouldn't? At least she managed to bring some of the most well mannered men on the planet; all of which extended their hands in sync once reaching you on the shore. Steve introduced himself first, and he even kissed your cheek with a red hue on his own. Sam was a little more cocky in his introduction, but thanked you immensely for letting him stay there. Bucky was the last, and he was much more quiet and distant in his introduction than the rest. He took your hands in his, and then mimicked Steve and placed the gentlest kiss upon your cheek that made Sam and Nat furrow their brows. However, they didn’t say anything in fear for their lives.

After a moment of awkward silence, Natasha cut in. “We needed a safe house, desperately.” You nodded, almost prying for more. “There’s a little too much going on in the world...Virus and all. Tony got worried with all of us in New York or in the same Safe House at that.” She tucked her hands in her pocket, which was a cue for her that she was done talking. For as long as you had known her, it was almost impossible to get her to a point of being uncomfortable that she couldn’t talk anymore. So this situation had to be dire.

With the warmest smile you could offer up, you spoke to the group, “I understand, and you’re welcome here for as long as you need.” They all joined in a chorus of ‘thank yous’ but you interrupted with “As long as you’re willing to go to the grocery store for or with me.” In response Nat quickly walked back over to the boat, and grabbed a handful of reusable bags that contained at least $300 worth of groceries. “Well then, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Throwing a dinner together for your guests was pretty easy since they all would eat anything you put on the plate in front of them. Steve was the one to strike up a conversation more than anybody else; asking how you came to get this land and when the house was built. Nat was just exhausted from navigating most of the way, and Sam must’ve been exhausted from nagging the whole time. Bucky, however, kept a cool distance from you across the dinner table. But he was the one who stayed to clean up dishes once everyone else went to bed, and even suggested you go to bed while he finished up downstairs. A smile graced your face and with a small wink you climbed the three flights of stairs to your master bedroom.

5:45 AM rolled around, and your alarm went off to get up and get ready for your 6 AM run around the island. The sunrise always brought a fresh breath of life to your lungs and soul. The island that you were lucky enough to live on, clocked in at around 4 miles round which was just the perfect running/walking mixture for your exercise credentials. Being on your own gave you a certain sense of freedom and happiness with the few trips to the grocery store that you made. While tying your sneakers, another person joined your presence downstairs in the island farmhouse. Bucky Barnes stood on the landing of the staircase, hair in a bun at the nape of his neck. He had a long sleeve shirt on that covered up to his wrists, leaving the metal arm to glimmer in the faint morning light. You had a sly smile on your lips with the thought of Nat teaching him how to tie his hair up in a small bun.

“What?” Bucky was also tying up his shoelaces, but caught a glimpse of your smile playing on your lips. The two of you were creatures of habit, and that meant getting up early in the day to work out so you had time for important stuff in the afternoon, like drinking. “Is there something wrong with my hair?” Bucky self consciously ran his flesh hand over his head.

You quickly jumped in, “Not at all! I could just tell Nat taught you to do that.” You grabbed the handle for the front door and looked at Bucky with a sympathetic look in your eyes, “Gonna run the same pace as me or outrun me today?” He laughed and agreed to keep pace with you. He was over a foot taller than you, which made you doubt his abilities to go your pace given the leg difference between the two of you.

The sun was only beginning to create a color show over the various mountains and islands surrounding your private island. Purple hues took over the sky and your heart. It always made you incredibly happy that you were able to reach this point in your life that you were able to live the life you had always dreamed of; quiet, and no one bothering you unless the situations were dire. Bucky’s strides were slower than normal to your left and even you could tell that, he wasn’t out of breath even when you were. Towards the end you always walked just to cool down and take in the cool morning breeze. Your black Labrador also joined during this morning ritual, which helped him settle during your afternoon activities.

After finishing the lap around the island, you sat down on one of the blue adirondack chairs you had perched on the beach. The paint was slightly peeling but every couple of years you repainted right over it, good as new. It was probably getting close to the time that required some more paint on the old, trusty chairs. Bucky carefully lowered himself into the chair next to you. With a slight sigh, he whispers as if to not disturb the sunrise still occuring. “Do you think Natalia knows about us?”

A laugh bubbles up into your chest as your hand reaches over and interlaces your fingers with Bucky’s. “I don’t think so baby.”

This had been occurring for the past 2 years, unbeknownst to the rest of the team. Neither of you really cared whether the rest of the team knew, maybe just Sam. The first time Nat had brought everyone to the island (By everyone, that means the WHOLE team and their significant others) over 2 years ago. There were so many dogs barking and beds squeaking that nobody had noticed you and Bucky on the front porch having a drink and learning everything about one another. He came to visit quite often after that, and no one really bothered to ask him where he was going.

The chairs in the sand were so close together that even if someone was to look out their bedroom windows and spot the two of you holding hands, you couldn’t quite tell what was happening. Steve was the only one with a bedroom that had a view over towards the sunrise, and you did that on purpose because you knew he wouldn’t say anything, and if he did it would have just been to Bucky. You adjusted in your chair so you could lean your head on his right shoulder, since his forearm was resting comfortably on your thigh. Bucky moved his head slightly just to kiss your sweaty forehead, and you could feel the smile on his lips. Bucky always smelled like eucalyptus and the scent stayed around your house even after he returned to his normal routine at the Avengers Compound. Your dog laid at both of your feet on the sand, comfortable as ever.

“I think we have to tell Tony eventually, especially since you wanna move here sometime in the near future.” You barely spoke above a whisper to him as you brought the back of his hand to your lips for a small kiss.

Bucky rested his cheek on the top of your head, watching the finishing sunrise. “I know, let this pandemic finish first before he realizes that he has to find another Avenger.” He giggled a little, and it brought a bubble of laughter up to your chest. “I just want to enjoy our privacy for now, before Sam realizes.” You nodded in agreement.

2019

Bucky had been introduced to you the year before, and somehow he managed to show up at your doorstep once a month. He claimed that it was his “vacation time”, even in the dead of winter, with snow piling up on your porch and an icy lake all around. The smile he donned melted a path right into your heart and you knew there was no way of falling out of love with Bucky Barnes. Most of the team was still under the impression that he was half psychotic; willing to snap at any time. But he was just the opposite. He was the most caring person you’d ever met in your life.

Bucky spent most of his time on your island helping with various projects that needed completing, whether it was fixing broken floor boards or sealing the shed against snow. You watched him get bundled up in overalls, glove only on his flesh hand and a fuzzy hat that he didn’t realize had cat ears on top, and trek outside to shovel a pathway to the shed that contained a few important items. Not to mention the chilly nights you spent with the window cracked, bundled up and a shirtless Bucky sleeping in the kingsize bed next to you.

Everytime he showed up on the porch, he claimed he took a leave of absence for some quiet time. But the time he spent on your island was anything but quiet. Making meals required any kind of music playing and hips swaying. His thumbs made impressions on your hips while you leaned to grab different seasonings from the spice rack, and a deep blush would form on your cheeks.

Late in the evenings it would just be the sound of snow falling outside and both of your breaths, ragged and slowing down. Legs tangled together, and not a care in the world. Bucky spent time tracing his fingers along the various tattoos that were painted over your arms and body. It made your heart warm to see Bucky this vulnerable. You finally had to ask what brought him here after all this time.

“You.” Was all Bucky wanted to offer at the time, and after some pandering he continued. “It’s peaceful here, you bring me unconstituted peace and so does this island.” Bucky was speaking the truth, it had been a long time since he had felt safe and content enough to be this open with someone. All it took were 4 sides of water for him to finally feel safe.

2020

You let out a little sigh before you spoke again, “I’d kiss you right now, but I have a feeling there’s a pair of eyes on us.” Closing your eyes, you felt Bucky stretch to turn around next to you. Sure enough, Nat was already up and sipping her coffee on the porch. She knew how much your privacy meant to you and Bucky, so she simply raised her mug in a cheering motion, and went back to bed.

Everyone had an inkling of an idea about the two of you, since Bucky didn’t know how to shut off the tracking on his iphone. But Natalia had reminded them of your spy past and how you once decapitated a man with your bare hands. Needless to say they kept their mouths shut until everyone was invited to the wedding/Bucky’s retirement party on the island.

382 notes · View notes

reversecreek · 3 years

Text

snickers feverishly at myself for bringing in a 5th... who do i think i am? unstoppable? invincible? suddenly ripples my titanium plated pecs. maybe so. u can find her pinterest here n her playlist here.

* margaret qualley, cis female + she/her | you know bradley milligan, right? they’re twenty-four, and they’ve lived in irving for, like, all of their life? well, their spotify wrapped says they listened to looking for knives by dyan like, a million times this year, which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole snow angels trampled through by your father’s footprints, casually reading a newspaper that’s catching flame & stubbing a cigarette against the wing mirror of a parked cop car thing going on. i just checked and their birthday is november 11th, so they’re a scorpio, which is unsurprising, all things considered. ( nai, 24, gmt she/her )

HISTORY:

bradley has this memory of meeting her grandmother for the first time n everything in the room was frozen still. even the air. she didn’t feel like she cld move n she got the impression this is how it’d always been in the milligan lineage. the only thing that was allowed to act of it’s own accord was her grandmother’s eyes as she tracked every slightest flinch of muscle. when her father left the room her grandmother reached out and took bradley’s hand n bradley looked at this like it was smthn she’d never seen before until her grandmother leaned close and all she could stare at was a nicotine stain on one of her front teeth. “he’s cold, isn’t he? he’s always been cold. i don’t think he’s mine.” bradley could tell from how tight she held her hand that he was. she could tell by the way she smiled as she said it, too. the way she felt obliged to smile back.

growing up in a huge white house in aquila drive w pruned hedges sounds idyllic n looks it too. swanky cars w tinted windows in the long driveway. always men filing in and out under the cloak of night wearing expensive suits n smiles worthy of a politician’s billboard. bradley’s mum alyssa thought so too n that’s hw she got into this whole mess tbh. tony milligan is very good at advertising. he cld package a jarred human heart as strawberry jam and convince u to spread it on ur toast if he wanted to. he could make u smile politely as u ate ur own.

alyssa ws this very pretty blonde kind of mysterious presence in a room. everyone wanted to kno her story or fk her but noone rly treated her like a person more just like a puzzle to solve. john green syndrome alert..... literally manic pixie dream girled bt on turbo charge. there were vague whispers she’d run away from home when she appeared in town out of nowhere bt nothing concrete. tony decided he wanted to crack the case n once he set his mind to something there was no changing it. they wound up embroiled in a whirlwind romance. head over heels. he came at romance hard and fast as a freight train. alyssa knew he was into shady things but not quite the full extent of it n honestly she didn’t care bc she wanted security n a family to call her own n tony promised that. they were married within a year.

tony came frm money bt he wanted to carve his own path n make his own legacy. destined fr greatness he’d tell her. we’re destined for greatness. it sounds nice doesn’t it! alyssa thought so too.

(drugs mention tw) slowly over the yrs he essentially forged his own crime organisation tht only grew. he opened a strip club down the seedier side of irving called ‘no angels’ n this became the front thru which his gang ran drugs in the back (predominantly coke n they pride themselves fr having a Superior Blend apparently) as well as laundering cash n this also was kind of their home base to hang

(abuse tw) their marriage increasingly lost it’s shine n alyssa came to realise she’d been sold a lie n she didn’t rly know this person or what he was capable of right around the time bradley was born. by then it was kind of like Wow i am rly in this n there is not an exit door huh. i won’t go into details bt things were not good at all. bradley witnessed n experienced a lot of things she shouldn’t have growing up. she didn’t understand why other kids drew home in all these different coloured crayons like they were bright places to be. she didn’t understand why everyone got so excited when the bell rang at the end of the day bc she just felt sick. she rationalised tht this was normal when she was younger bc sometimes kids talked abt the monsters under their beds giving them nightmares n she thought mayb they were talking abt their dads too. as she got older she realised tht actually her world wasn’t the same as anyone else’s n she also realised no-one wld ever be able to tell her why. she started becoming friends with the angry feeling in her chest tht she used to try and swallow around this time. often she’d wander the mall for a while to put off going home. smoke on random park benches. watch trains rattle thru town from the vantage point of a random rooftop.

(abuse, missing person implied, murder implied & grief tw) when bradley was 12 she woke up and all of her mum’s clothes were gone frm their drawers. no shoes anywhere. a framed photo of them at the beach holding bradley as a baby vanished from over the mantelpiece. when bradley asked her dad what was going on, tony essentially said “it was exhausting her. being here. being your mother. she didn’t want to do it any more, so now she’s gone” n then he hugged her. little details leaked into the mix over the yrs. at one point tony dismissed her as having flown overseas to a foreign country to drink in the sun like she’d always wanted even tho alyssa always told bradley she liked the snow best (once she even walked outside as it fell in a thin lace nightgown when tony was out n when bradley said “mom you’re gonna get cold” she only tugged her down and made her do snow angels until her lips looked blue). the most significant memory bradley can never shake from her head is her mother cupping a yellow tulip at the park n saying she hated them. when bradley asked why she only turned and smiled at her as she stroked the hair from her face n then said “because they look so happy”. after bradley’s mum vanished a long flower bed at the bottom of the garden was suddenly overrun with dozens of freshly planted yellow tulips. whenever bradley looked at them out of her window she got this sickly feeling in the pit of her stomach like she was visiting a cemetery. she suspected what had happened to her mum (especially as rumours circulated within tony’s organisation abt alyssa being unfaithful with someone tht used to work fr him) bt she cld never bring herself to truly accept it. thus she ws stuck in this strange purgatory state of not-quite-anger at her mum for “leaving” and not-quite-grief.

bradley rly started to transgress in school after her mum was gone. alyssa was always kind of a character when she’d pick bradley up (wasn’t doing well n acted kind of ‘eccentric’ i suppose u cld say) so tony managed to spin it all as a child acting out in the wake of an unfit mother uprooting n abandoning. bradley became........ interesting. JKHGFSSKJGHFSGHSKFGHFG. she’d snap n resort to violence very easily. very desensitised to it. students were kind of scared of her tbh. as this progressed into proper high school she got in w the more rowdy popular crowd solely bc she was so fking.... wild for lack of a better word. rly would just do anything fr the thrill. had no sense of ‘i shouldn’t do this bc it’s dangerous’. partied harder than anyone. bit back harder than anyone. no filter. hung w a lot of guys honestly bc they had less morals n either found her scariness cool or wanted to fk <3

(hospitalisation, depression & drugs tw) she’s had. a few stints in psychiatric institutions fr various reasons tbh. missed a small chunk of her senior yr fr this but it wasn’t widely known just kind of rumoured. she showcases a lot of similar symptoms to her mum who struggled w severe depression (which was difficult to cope w when ur husband was often pouring ur prescription down the drain fr kicks) n in order to compensate fr the lows she takes a lot of things to kick them into highs. drinks n snorts too much. bradley i love u bt i’m begging u to seek healthier coping mechanisms......

as the yrs went on (especially once alyssa had gone) tony rly started trying to integrate bradley into the business side of things...... she literally. is named bradley bc he was expecting a boy n he was like well let’s still call her bradley. n had in mind she’d still fulfil the role he wanted her to of being his little protege so to speak.... both sexist n ugly all in one fell swoop...... an example of this is he literally. bought her a mint green switchblade for her 14th birthday n named it tinkerbell bc it would “die without attention” aka using it. tht sounds like a healthy gift to give a child tony congratulations sis <3

in an ideal world bradley wld have gone to uni to study psychology bc she jst wants to know how the fk her dad is literally like that bt she probably stuck around n is now managing no angels along with billy n marco (billy’s in her dad’s gang n is, u guessed it, a cunt, n marco is his sort of right hand man so to speak) bc tony’s in the closest neighbouring city overseeing a second ‘no angels’ opening up there to expand into a franchise n widen their income margins. bradley wld also be sort of used as a honey trap type deal once she got older if they needed to lure ppl places n sometimes still is bt it depends. the guys in the club all know not to mess w bradley bc she’s tony’s daughter n literally kind of scary herself sometimes bt there’s also this certain allure tht comes with being the boss’ daughter n it kind of comes across in how they act or talk abt her. yes i will kill them all n no i won’t feel bad abt it <3

think that’s kind of all u need to kno history wise... blinks one eye out of sync w the other..... runs to personality

PERSONALITY:

a phrase i wld always use to describe bradley in old intros is “like a cup of black coffee with one grain of sugar that u don’t taste until the last sip”. also dark chocolate. lime. liquorice. she’s an acquired taste n i feel like u either love her or u hate her.

cannot express how unpredictably chaotic she is..... frequently throws a drink in a stranger’s face jst to start something bc she’s bored. loves to hurl cheese slices across the room so they slap onto someone’s face out of nowhere. likes smashing things. stubbing cigarettes out on faces in framed family photographs. will literally pick a lock n then smash the window besides it to defeat the whole purpose just bc she found how neat it was boring. does anything fr the adrenaline n thrill. gets into far too many fights n fights dirty. probably been thrown out of every bar in town at least three times. banned from a bunch too.

she’s witty bt she has a dark sense of humour..... can be quite mean.......... loves to roast ppl for no reason........ honestly has some nathan young frm misfits aspects in that sense like jst seems untouchable emotionally n like she doesn’t take anything seriously n is fking outrageous about it.....

has this quality abt her tht kind of scares herself sometimes. it’s like she recognises parts of her dad in her. she’s very perceptive (bc she’s had to be over the yrs trying to read every micro-expression of her dad’s to predict what’s next) n like emotionally intelligent in a way which is ironic bc her own emotions r just an absolute minefield.... bt. she can read people quite well. gets this eerily calm look abt her sometimes n it’s jst like god what’s. she thinking. what’s she’s gna do. i’m shaking. a cool n controlled kind of rage can often be scarier than the explosive type n bradley does that well. grits my teeth n tugs on my collar....

very strong on the surface. hates being vulnerable. has this ingrained idea that crying is childish or rly any kind of emotional display within herself. 50% not taking things seriously 50% angry. tht’s how she comes across....... internally? whole different story. bt ppl don’t see that.

very cavalier abt some things. will flash her tits n not even think abt it. jst very out there...... one of her closest friends is a homeless man named joe who wears neon purple fishnets on his head n loves to spit on ppl from over an underpass. finds eccentric ppl like this funny n surrounds herself w them. loves to be kept on her toes.

LOVES driving stolen cars down the wrong side of the highway. it’s a lot.

fiercely loyal to a fault to a select few bt if u wrong her personally this can switch pretty quick. quite a force to b reckoned w n will hold a grudge. bt like. if ur a Chosen One she’d bury a body for u no questions asked.

WANTED CONNECTIONS

deals to u: bradley isn’t like full time into dealing bt she does do it sometimes.... treats it kind of like a hobby bc the lesser ranked can do tht shit as far as she’s concerned bt.. sometimes also jst gets bored n is like. why not. might be chaotic. mayb they’ll try to rob me <3 we love the thrill <3 or like..... if ur friends w her she’ll deal to u n no she will not do a friends discount <3 or if she does there will definitely be some sort of stipulation attached <3

high skl crew: if ur muse is local n ws an absolutely demonic hell spawn in high skl tht went to 1974547254 parties n was outrageously chaotic n rude then. bradley probably was friends w them <3 her friendships tend to be surface level bt they’d definitely go out a bunch bt whether they actually knew a lot abt her life is debatable bt we could explore options fr this

people who work at no angels: no angels is her dad’s strip club in irving that she kind of helps to run now. it’s kind of a shifty environment. the place where ud have an outrageous bachelor party. u go for the first time w a fake id n u get served bt u also get ur wallet stolen n ur convinced someone spat in ur drink n u also kind of think there might b a hit on u now after u made eye contact too long w a broad shouldered man smoking in a back booth. scary environment. testament to her dad as a person. maybe ur muse is a dancer there or works the bar or security or whatever u name it....

ma’am are u ok?: ur muse found bradley passed out across two bus seats one time in smudged dark eyeliner a silver slip dress n the world’s chunkiest combat boots this town hs ever seen. sometimes she winds up in spots like this when she goes too hard n it’s absolutely dangerous n reckless bt that’s jst bradley <3 mayb they forged an unlikely friendship frm this strange meeting or maybe even? dare i say it? a romance? opposite worlds colliding? good influence? let’s go crazy. release ur inhibitions. feel the rain on ur skin.

hook-ups: bradley’s cavalier abt this stuff..... very unemotional typically..... mayb we cld do an unrequited thing that wld be angsty n fun altho i won’t lie i don’t kno if she’d be the one to catch the feelings.... she rarely sleeps over bt once when she woke up in someone’s bed she hiked over to straddle them carefully as possible so they wldn’t wake up n then pressed her knife to their neck as a fun little surprise where she said boo when they opened their eyes.... she’s a lot clearly.

watermelon slugger, hiiii: bradley has this habit where she gets a bunch of watermelons n then goes to a rooftop n throws them over the edge to watch them explode when they hit the pavement.... maybe ur muse almost got hit by one once n were like WTF???????? another quirky meet cute moment like the bus one <3 can’t stop w them <3 maybe she randomly invited ur muse to do it w her when they were like. a stranger of f the street. she was bored. decided to adopt them as a science experiment. we cn elaborate on this probably....

ouch charlie: similar territory bt she also sometimes shoots pedestrians w a bb gun from rooftops. mayb ur muse wld always get hit by one on a certain route they walked n finally one day they saw her head ducking down behind a ledge n then they see her in the street one day n are like HEY IT’S YOU............. WTF? n bradley’s like ya i’m christ risen again it’s a lot to take in i know...

rly jst anything... mutually destructive friends... exes.... in one rp a character tried to get close to bradley so he cld write an expose all book about her n her family which i found so fking funny so i’ll request that again.... people she’s fought.... ppl whose gf/bf she’s fk’d n it’s caused enemy status.... someone whose place she broke into and shaved their eyebrows off in the night only to draw them on again in crudely thin permanent sharpie lines.... roommates cld be fun n sexy i’d love that actually.... jst anything rly. go wild. kisses everyone tenderly on cheeks.

#irvingintro #abuse tw #missing person tw #implied murder tw #grief tw #hospitalisation tw #depression tw #drugs tw #death tw #i think tht's all of them....... cor blimey......

15 notes · View notes

awkwardpenguinproductions · 3 years

Text

Perspective

Part 11 of the Dragon of the Yuyan

Read on AO3 | Series Masterpost

Bato usually takes his evening walk a lot earlier than this, so that he can catch the sunset over the water and marvel (two years away from home and he’s still not used to the sun actually rising and setting more than twice a year). Tonight, however, a series of events have conspired to make him late, and the sun has just set when he finally leaves the Abbey and heads down to the beach toward his ship.

A month after the skirmish, and his burns are still tender and stiff, but the sisters are well-versed in healing and Bato knows it’s nearly time to move on. Hakoda and the rest of the Fleet should be somewhere in the Eastern Earth Kingdom by now, and Bato is just waiting for his Chief to send word so that Bato can rejoin his brothers.

As he approaches his ship, a flickering orange light pierces the darkness, and his heart stops for a moment. Firebenders? But the only sounds are the waves of the sea against the sand and the crackling fire, so Bato keeps his hand on his dagger and approaches cautiously.

As he gets closer, he can see the silhouette of someone sitting before a campfire, someone with what looks to be a shaggy wolf-tail. A stick snaps under Bato’s foot, and the person jolts, standing and whirling around with a weapon in hand.

“Who’s there?” Calls out an achingly familiar voice, and Bato can’t believe it.

“Sokka?” He asks, stepping into the circle of firelight. And so it is, his Chief’s son, relaxing from his fighting stance.

“Bato?” His voice has deepened, and cracks on the end where it turns up in question.

“Who the what now?” Another voice asks, male and young, and Bato can see a small body resting on one of the legs belonging to a huge furry creature the size of his ship. Across the campfire from Sokka, Katara sits up in her sleeping bag and calls out, “Bato!”

Bato braces himself as both Sokka and Katara run over to hug him, with the smaller boy and another one, nearly fully grown and shrugging a quiver over his shoulder. “Sokka, Katara! It is so good to see you! You’ve grown so much!”

“Hi, I’m Aang, and this is Zuko,” the small boy says, bowing and indicating his taller companion, who also bows. Bato is about to greet them, but Sokka speaks before he can.

“Where’s Dad?”

“Is he here?” Katara asks eagerly.

Bato hates to disappoint them, but there’s no point in prevaricating, so he tells them where Hakoda and the fleet are and invites them to the Abbey.

His niece and nephew are delighted with his room, while Avatar Aang grimaces in poorly disguised disgust and the silent Zuko glances around with an appreciative air. Bato wants to ask the boy about the massive burn scar on his face, maybe compare battle stories, but Sokka and Katara command his attention, and his relief and delight at seeing them and finding them well overwhelm his instinct to be a good host.

They eat their fill of stewed sea prunes and talk. Aang tries to participate in the conversation, while Zuko doesn’t say a word, but watches everyone keenly, and Bato could swear that his eyes flicker gold in the firelight. That’s impossible, though— Sokka and Katara more than anybody know better than to trust ash-makers . Bato puts the thought out of his mind, and conversation turns to Hakoda and the Southern Water Tribe fleet.

When he tells them about the message he’s expecting from Hakoda, the kids’ faces light up.

“Really?” Katara squeals.

“When?” Sokka demands. Between them, Zuko looks up from the arrows he’s fletching, a small smile on his face.

“Any day now,” Bato replies, almost as excited as them. “Your father said he’d send a message when they found the rendezvous point. If you wait until the message arrives, you can come with me, and see your father again.”

Sokka beams. “It’s been over two years since we’ve seen Dad! That would be so incredible! Katara!”

“I do really miss him,” Katara sighs wistfully. “It would be great to see Dad.”

“It’s been far too long, hasn’t it?” Bato commiserates. He misses his brother warriors like he would miss his limbs. “I’m not sure when word will arrive, but when it does, you’re more than welcome to come along to see your father.”

Both the kids deflate suddenly. “It would be great, but we can’t,” Sokka says gravely. “We have to get Aang to the North Pole.”

“Even if we do have time to wait for the message, who knows how far we’d have to travel?” Katara adds with typical pragmatism. “We don’t have time for a long detour.”

Bato is disappointed, but also immensely proud, and knows that Hakoda will be as well, and says so. Sokka and Katara beam, and Zuko looks a bit relieved.

With the break in conversation, Bato turns his attention to the archer, and now that he has consistent light from the whale oil lamps hanging around the room, realizes that the boy really is just a boy, perhaps a year or so older than Sokka. The burn scar on his left eye dominates his pale face, despite being half hidden under shaggy black hair.

"You've been very quiet, Zuko, I'm sorry we've been so rude," Bato says, shooting a playfully scolding look at Katara and Sokka, who sheepishly smile and smirk respectively. "I'm Bato, first subordinate to Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe Coalition."

Zuko smiles, balls one hand into a loose fist, and taps the fingers against his mouth.

"Zuko doesn't talk," Sokka says with a shrug. "We don't know why––he's teaching us his hand language, but it's kind of slow going. He can write, but he hasn't really told us much of anything about himself. Can we tell him? He's trustworthy, he's basically my dad's common sense." Sokka has turned to Zuko, who is now eyeing Bato thoughtfully, and he can feel himself shiver as that gaze lays him open and reads him like a book. Those eyes glint gold again, and Bato has a bad feeling.

Zuko nods, short and sharp.

"Okay, so Zuko here defected from the Fire Nation, basically," Sokka states, quick and simple, like ripping off a bandage. "Aang had gotten himself captured by this seriously bad news Admiral, and Zuko got him out. As soon as Aang learns Zuko's language, Zuko's going to teach him firebending."

A firebender.

A firebender. Next to his kids. Traveling with the Avatar.

A firebender. In. His. Room.

The smoke from the cookfire is choking. Pain races up and down Bato's arm. The ash-maker is too close. Too close to the cookfire, too close to the kids, too close to Bato . The knife is in his hand before he even thinks to draw it.

"Bato!"

Katara sounds scared. She should be, she's sitting next to a firebender. Ash-makers killed Kya.

"Bato. Stop. Put it down."

Hakoda? But Hakoda's in the East.

"Bato." The voice rings with Hakoda's authority, and it pierces some of the haze that's settled over Bato's mind. "Bato. There is no threat. Put. The knife. Down. "

Bato blinks, and suddenly he's back, in his room at the Abbey, and when had he stood up? The knife falls to the floor beside his foot. Sokka stands before him, tall, so tall when did he get so tall, his own dagger drawn and held at the ready, half in front of a white-faced, kneeling Zuko being comforted by Katara.

"Bato." Sokka has never sounded more like his father than he does in this instance, and Bato almost snaps to attention on instinct. He drags his eyes away from the prostrate firebender to his best friend's son, who is studying him with a hunter's gaze, cool and assessing and sharp. When did Sokka transform from a goofy boy to this warrior?

"Bato," Sokka says again, steel threading his voice. "Zuko is under the protection of the Chieftain's Heir. He is not to be harmed by word or deed. Doing so is an affront to me, and to my father as Chief. Do I have your word as a Warrior of the Water Tribe?"

This man will make a great Chief someday, Bato thinks, as he drops to one knee and says aloud, "I swear by Tui and La as a Warrior of the Water Tribe that Zuko of the Fire Nation shall not be intentionally harmed by word or deed by my hand.”

Sokka nods sharply, sheathes his dagger, and turns to his friend, dropping to one knee and murmuring to him. After a few nods and headshakes, and one odd gesture where Zuko shakily places one loose fist palm out on his forehead and then stretches out the thumb and pinky finger, the firebender slowly gets to his feet and disappears out the door. Sokka and Katara share a look, and Sokka sits back down facing Bato.

“Okay, what in La’s name just happened?” He asks, pinning Bato with a hard look.

Bato shifts uneasily on his mat. “Where is he going?”

“That’s not the question right now, but he’s gonna go hang out with Appa for a while,” Sokka replies, waving a hand as though letting a firebender run around a peaceful Abbey was nothing to worry about. Sokka must have seen something of his worry on Bato’s face, because his blue eyes turned to sharpened ice. “Zuko has my trust. If it weren’t for him, Katara and I would have died, and Aang would be on a ship to the Fire Nation capital as a trophy. You’re on thin ice, though. What. Just. Happened?”

Bato bows his head. “Ever since your father brought me here, I’ve been… struggling,” he says quietly. “Fire is not the comfort it once was. Firebenders figure… prominently… in my nightmares. When you said that Zuko was going to teach the Avatar firebending… I’m afraid I lost my head a little bit.”

Sokka’s lips press into a line. “That’s not a good thing, Bato,” he says. “You need to get a grip on that, because to end this war we’re going to need Fire Nation allies. Including firebenders. We can’t afford to alienate people willing to work with us just because you can’t handle that they bend fire.”

Bato knows he’s right. Every word is exactly as Hakoda would have said, and Bato has every intention of telling his best friend exactly how much his son has grown.

“I suppose I should apologize to Zuko,” Bato sighs, running a hand over his face. He should probably talk to one of the sisters about his reaction, as well. They’re pretty well skilled in healing both bodies and minds, and he does not want a repeat of tonight when and if the issue of …firebending allies… comes up again.

Sokka nods, but Katara pins Bato with a frown. “It can wait until morning,” she declares. “Give him a chance to calm down.”

Aang returns, a bit obnoxiously cheerful in the solemn room, and Bato wonders at the Spirits who had seen fit to grant the world a child Avatar.

Zuko doesn’t return.

The next morning, Bato leaves his room and finds Zuko in the courtyard, practicing what look like bending forms. Aang sits nearby, watching with wide eyes. The older boy is stripped to the waist, even in the chilly morning air, and every movement he makes is controlled, precise, and calculated. There is no fire, most likely in deference to their current location, but Bato can easily imagine the flames bursting from Zuko’s strikes and trailing like ribbons from his kicks.

Zuko finishes his practice, spots Aang, and reaches the Avatar’s side in long strides. He makes a series of gestures, fluid and quick, to which Aang responds with his own slow, clumsy movements. Zuko corrects him, fixing the positioning of fingers and guiding the movement of hands, all with a gentleness that Bato would never have expected to see from a firebender. Aang tries again, and this time gets an approving nod. Aang beams and skips away. Zuko shakes his head, smiling wryly, and Bato takes the opportunity to approach.

As soon as he takes the first step, Zuko’s face snaps in his direction, his entire body going stiff and his expression wiping clear. The boy watches keenly as Bato comes closer, eyes darting here and there as though searching for weapons, but Bato had made sure to leave every weapon he has in his room this morning. No need to make the situation worse. He stops just out of his own arms’ reach, and is gratified to see Zuko relax just a little bit.

“Zuko, I would like to apologize for my behavior last night,” Bato says formally. “I do not know quite what came over me, but I will ensure that it does not happen again. I am sorry; I know I frightened you, and I sincerely apologize.”

Zuko’s posture slowly relaxes, although he never loses the military-erect stance. He forces a half-smile at Bato, shrugs a little, and makes a quick couple of shapes with one hand before striding off in the direction of the bathhouse.

Later that morning, Bato and the kids head back to Bato’s ship, and Bato takes them “ice dodging”, if it can be called such when dodging rocks instead of ice. Despite Zuko’s and Aang’s obvious inexperience with sailing, the kids all work together flawlessly, and Sokka’s use of his crew’s bending abilities is inspired.

When it’s over, Bato takes a bowl of face paint and conducts the Marking ceremony.

“The Spirits of Water bear witness to these Marks!” He intones, and draws the first mark on Sokka’s forehead. “For Sokka, the Mark of the Wise. The same Mark your father earned. For Katara and Zuko, the Mark of the Brave. Your courage inspires us.” When Zuko flinches as Bato reaches to draw the Mark on his forehead, Katara takes the bowl from him and draws it herself. “Your courage is especially inspiring, Zuko,” Bato continues, smiling at the young man. “I know that I didn’t give you much reason to trust me, and your decision to bend despite your fear that I might attack you showed enormous courage and trust in your fellow warriors. That is truly inspiring.”

Bato takes the paint bowl back from Katara and turns to Aang. “And for Aang, the Mark of the Trusted. You are now an honorary member of the Water Tribe, as is Zuko.”

He draws the Mark on Aang’s forehead, over the blue arrow, but instead of looking happy, Aang’s eyes are downcast.

“I can’t,” he says quietly.

“Sure you can!” Katara says brightly, while Zuko and Sokka look confused.

Aang wipes off the Mark and backs away. “No, you can’t trust me,” he asserts.

"What are you talking about?" Katara demands, and Zuko begins to look alarmed as Aang curls in on himself, and pulls a crumpled piece of parchment from his tunic.

"A messenger gave this to me for Bato," he says quietly.

Bato can only watch as the crew that had worked together so well just twenty minutes ago falls apart before his eyes.

Sokka shouts, Zuko pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs silently, and Katara stands staring at Aang with a heartbroken expression on her face until Sokka stomps away and demands, "Katara, are you with me?"

She pauses for a moment, but only a moment, and then her shoulders stiffen and she closes her eyes and replies quietly, “I’m with you, Sokka.”

As Sokka leads the way back to the Abbey, Bato glances back to see Zuko cuff Aang across the back of the head.

Everyone is packed and ready to leave within an hour, and after a brief goodbye at the Abbey gates, Aang and Zuko go one way with Appa and Momo, and Bato leads Sokka and Katara in the opposite direction.

They walk in silence for a long time, and Bato doesn’t really know how to lighten the oppressive sadness that surrounds the kids. He’s thrilled to finally be returning to his brother warriors, and he’s so excited to be bringing his niece and nephew to see their father. They’ve both grown so much, and Bato can’t wait to see the look on Hakoda’s face when he sees them.

A wolf howls in misery somewhere in the distance, and Bato feels his spirit howling in answer.

“That wolf sounds so sad," Katara says quietly.

"It's probably wounded," Sokka replies.

"No, it's been separated from the pack," Bato interjects. "I understand that pain. It's how I felt when the Water Tribe warriors had to leave me behind. They were my family, and being apart from them was more painful than my wounds."

Sokka has a pensive expression on his face as he turns to study the path they had just walked.

"Sokka?" Katara asks.

Sokka takes a deep breath, and Bato knows what he's going to say before he says it. "We need to go back. I wanna see Dad, but helping Aang is where we're needed the most. And Zuko… he can probably take care of himself okay, but if he gets to the North Pole and the Tribe doesn't believe Aang when he tells them Zuko's on our side… We need to go back."

Katara smiles. "You're right."

Bato is so, so proud of them he could burst. He strides forward and puts a hand on each of their shoulders. "Your father will understand, and I know he's proud of you."

There's only the slightest shake in Sokka's voice as he says, "Thanks, Bato."

"I know where to go from here," Bato continues, and fishes the map out of his tunic to hand to Sokka. "Take this in case you want to find us. I'll leave a message at the rendezvous point."

The kids each give him a hug, and Bato continues up the path alone.

It takes a month and a half, three weeks of which are spent sailing, but Bato eventually makes it to the cove in Chameleon Bay where the Southern Water Tribe fleet is anchored. During this time, the moon actually disappears for about half an hour or so, and Bato is terrified out of his wits until it reappears. He doesn't want to think about how that could have happened, so he puts it out of his mind until he's reunited with his brother warriors.

Hakoda embraces him with tears in his eyes, the strength of his hug around Bato's middle a testament to his worry. The men tease him about his "vacation", and Bato gives as good as he gets, ecstatic to be back with his brothers.

That night, around the campfire, Bato turns to his Chief.

"Hakoda," he says, "you'll never guess who I ran into."

Previous | Next

#atla #atla fanfic #awkpenproductions presents #dragon of the yuyan #part 11 perspective #full text post

6 notes · View notes