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fiionawrites · 10 months

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Chapter IV: More similar than you think.

Words: 7,3K

A/N: Ooh big chapter alert! this one was veryyyy fun to write, I'll be so honest right now. Also finally beginning to hear a bit more about Lana's past! Readers that pay close attention to detail will be repeatedly rewarded throughout this story! Also, using this as a pre-warning that next chapter will contain heavy sexual content, so as always, minor's do not interact! (+18).

It couldn’t have been more than 6AM when Lana woke with Tess’s and Joel’s bedroom door being swung open, hitting the wall – that now most definitely had a crack and dent in – behind it.

“I never ask for a single thing…” Tess bit under her breath as she strode straight into the kitchen in lesser clothes than she had on the night before, a sight that didn’t feel right for Lana to see, “And when it so happens to be to help you, you push me away.”

Joel came in shortly after her, in a much slower pace, although his frustration matched hers, “M’not pushin’ ya away, Tess-“

“Oh really? Because that’s exactly what it feels like-“

“M’not-“

“Oh really?”

“No!”, Joel said, hands flying up beside him. There’s no way they actually thought she was just sleeping through all this shouting, but Lana continued to pretend, “S’not about pushin’ ya away! Y’know if I could you’d be my first option to travel with… but with the girl in this, it don’t… make much sense for ya to come, Tess. I rather have ya safe in here, runnin’ the business smoothly-“

“Oh for god sake…” Tess huffed a laugh, opening the fridge to pull out half a loaf of bread and some nearly expired butter for the both- three of them, “Don’t make the girl the reason you’re doing this, Joel, or I swear to god-“

“She changed things, that’s fuckin’ obvious, ain’t it?”

“Changed things?” Tess asked, turning to face him fully, hand gripping the butter knife as she pointed it at him with narrowed eyes, “What do you mean by that, Joel?”

Joel suddenly came to a loss for words, skin heating under Tess’s gaze. And what he didn’t know was Lana’s gaze too burning at the back of his head. He thought about his next words carefully.

“I mean… For the mission, on it’s own. The battery, the truck, the same destination, the same cause…. If it weren’t for that, yeah, makes sense ya come with me… but… this way… everybody wins, right?”

“You mean, you see Tommy-“

“Like the plan has always been-“

“She sees her brother…”

“S’bout it…”

“And I stand behind like some fill in to take care of the business?”

Joel sighed deeply, head falling back as his eyes fluttered shut. He tried to take a breath and think of a different way to approach this discussion that had taken over the last forty minutes of his morning.

“F’ya were me, Tess… what would ya do, huh?”, Joel looked at her, soft eyes roaming over her frame.

She was wearing his boxers, an oversized ‘MILLER’S CONTRACTING’ shirt Tommy had gotten a hand of 19 years ago and never explained how, a fresh set of bed head hair, up to her face, mapping the freckles, cuts and bruises peppering her skin. He stepped closer to her when she didn’t answer, rounding the counter and placing his hands on her waist, pulling her in closer to him as she finally met his gaze, although reluctantly. Soft fabric bunching between his fingers as the heat from his palm spread to her clothed skin, he leaned in impossibly closer, speaking with that low Texan drawl, somehow still mingling with a bit of sleep.

“Tell me what you’d do, Tess…”, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear, and he knew he was playing dirty, pulling at her strings after a night of giving into their desires.

They had gone to bed and after a few soft, comforting touches and mumbles about a hell of a frustrating night, they gave in, ‘just two adults confortin’ each other, nothin’ wrong ‘bout that’. At the wake of dawn, while laying in bed in a tangled embrace of limbs, sheets and empty promises, Joel had mumbled into the crook of her neck about how it had been the perfect goodbye. And that’s how they ended here.

Tess knew it was dirty. Tess knew it was far from playing fair. But she gave in. Because she also knew Joel was right, from the first time he had told her. It’s what made sense. No reason to carry an extra person out with limited supplies and that had no true desires for being out there if not to protect the one’s she cared for, which had almost gotten them killed multiple times. She had to be rational, and sometimes Tess fucking hated that. She was rational all the time, she just wanted to allow herself to feel.

It was a selfish thing to ask for.

And truly, someone did need to fill in the gaps around the QZ, which she could handle well on her own. So, if this had to be a goodbye, she would be selfish and let herself drown in him.

Joels lips had traveled down the shell of her ear, to her jaw, to the column of her throat, to the crook of her neck, mumbling lowly over and over “tell me”, “tell me what to do”. Tess’s hands had slowly come up to wrap over his shoulders, around his neck as she slanted her body against Joel, fingers playing with the curls at the base of his neck. Until it all came crashing down, her body tensing against his as she was met with the sight of Lana on the couch.

“She’s sleepin’, not gonna get up soon after the night she h-“

Without a word, Tess slipped from his grasp, pushing her hands flat on Joels chest to create some distance. She grabbed a slice of bread off the counter and made quick work back into their room, not sparing a glance back at him. Joel’s eyebrows met in the middle, pinching as he threw over what the fuck had just happened in the last minute and a half or so. That is until he slowly turned around, trying to find what Tess had seen and being met with the sight of Lana- fast asleep.

Oh… fuck me…

And covered in one of their blankets.

Joel had mumbled a series of cusses under his breath as he quickly strode over to Lana’s sleeping form on the couch, calling out to Tess in the bedroom down the hall, “Really, Tess? S’fuckin’ blanket! She was soaked wet, last night! What’s the fuckin’ point in drivin’ her out West if she’s gonna be dead fuckin’ weight! Sick n’ getting me sick! For fucks sake- Jesus…”

Joel pinched the corner of the blanket he had draped over her in the middle of the night, shortly after Tess had fallen asleep and he couldn’t do the same by hearing Lana’s teeth chattering, and he whipped it off her in a swift motion, tossing it to the floor.

Lana pretended to stir from her sleep at the act, and not the door-swinging-feet-banging-loud-arguing morning she’d just involuntarily experienced.

“Get dressed. We’re leavin’ in an hour.” He had mumbled lowly without looking at her. Lana’s eyes darted around the room, looking different in the daylight. He was just about to disappear in the hallway when she called out.

“Can I… shower first?”

“Shower at your own place.“

“I don’t… but I don’t have working water… I only used Roberts.”

“Then go back to Roberts”, Joel had snapped at her. Lana propped herself up on her elbows to see him properly, she couldn’t quite wrap around how this partnership would ever work with someone as much as an asshole as…

“Is that bread?”

Joel blinked at her, a bit dazed and confused, he took a few steps back into the kitchen, staring for a couple of seconds at the – well, yeah – sliced bread and most likely expired butter.

“Yeah…”, he stated as his eyes slowly moved back towards hers.

“Can I- “

“No…”

Joel stared at her for a moment longer before walking down towards the hallway, to his bedroom. Lana could only stare at the space that he once occupied, beating herself for looking so surprised by being rejected a cold shower and a slice of bread by the man who wanted to kill her a few hours ago.

As she stood, racking her brain trying to remember if she actually had anything to eat at home, Joel had creaked open a sliver of his door, just enough for her to hear him say, “You have five minutes in the shower. Still no bread”, before disappearing in his room again.

She figured the shower was for his benefit. Because 35 hours in a car in her current state? Jesus- fuck man.

~ * ~

Although another argument wouldn’t be her preferred choice to listen to during her only shower after four days and not for at least another two weeks – if things in Wyoming worked out – she didn’t mind the background noise. Better than the awkward silences.

It was 7:34AM when Joel sent Lana to wait by the flight of stairs while he said his private goodbyes to Tess. Which very different from Joel, she had only received a stern look and what she thought was the tiniest nod of acknowledgment ever, but she truly could’ve imagined it. Just before Tess had closed the door, she handed something to him between themselves, blocking Lana’s view. But if the way Joel quickly put it away said anything, she guessed it was important.

And about ten minutes later, Joel and Lana had made it to the bottom of the stairs, pushing open a double door onto the streets, crossing alleys while avoiding big puddles from the rainy night before. It would’ve been as simple as that if she hadn’t slipped and sent mucky-alleyway puddle water all over the bottom hem of Joels jeans. He had given her a look that made her think he’d break her then and there and drive off to Wyoming without looking back, but after he just… turned around, it was pretty much smooth sailing until her apartment.

They walked up the five flights of stairs in silence – that is except for Joel’s ragged breath behind her – until they made it to her floor, stopping in front of her door.

“You ok back there?” Lana said over her shoulder as she plucked her keys from her backpack.The question left her with genuine concern, but whatever way it floated through the air between them and to his ears, it arrived with a teasing and disrespectful drawl to Joel.

“M’fine. Just open the fuckin’ door.”, he mumbled with a sharp exhale, eyes burning into the back of her head.

And as if on command, Lana pushed open her door, stepping inside and making way for him. She locked the door only to then look behind herself, seeing Joel standing rigid in his place, as if moving a muscle would bring the whole building down.

Lana stared at him. He didn’t move.

“Joel? Everything alright?”

He barely moved his head to the side, looking at her with a stern gaze before averting his eyes again, “Jus’ go get your things”, he said dismissively.

Joel was acting weirdly stiff, awkward, and it was so sudden. Lana blinked at him once, twice, before looking around herself and her small apartment, trying to understand what shifted his behavior suddenly. Her place was clean. She was almost sure he’d sprawl out on her couch the moment they arrived.

“Joel?”, she said to him, trying to make him look at her again, “Joel”.

“Hm?”, he sounded annoyed.

“What’s up man? What the fuck is wrong with you?”

This made him look at her, finally, although it seemed like keeping eye contact was pure torture, “Whaddya mean?”

“You’re just… standing there. It looks like you’ve shit yourself. What? What is it?”

The comment made a small grin grow on her face, uncontrollable. Opposite for him, although the anger radiating off him was far more comfortable and familiar than the awkward pose.

“I didn’t- can ya just-“ he sighed heavily, looking up as if begging to any and all gods above to be stricken down at that very moment. He looked back down at his feet before speaking lowly to her, “Can ya move your laundry?”

Lana’s eyebrows furrowed at the odd request while she looked around herself, finally catching the pile of folded clothes over a worn-out wooden kitchen table. A pair of jeans, a jacket, an old towel with a whole in the sewing line, a t-shirt with a few stains and… oh.

At the very top of the pile were a couple of her unfolded underwear and a bra with more tears in it than she could count. Alright, kind of embarrassing, but at the same time it was just clothes… She bit the inside of her cheek to stifle a laugh, quite relieved that it was just her laundry. 20 years in the apocalypse and another woman’s undergarments is what sets Joel Miller off. Well, better that reaction than other’s she’s received.

She can’t look at him, she thinks she’ll break and giggle uncontrollably at him. Then she’ll get shot for it. So, Lana just moves towards the pile, disappearing down the hall as she takes it to her room, taking the opportunity to laugh in her hands in private. When she comes back, he’s still standing in the same spot, but definitely less tense and stiff.

“Anything else?” she asks as she leans on a wall across from him, a few feet apart.

“No”

And just there peaks that damn grin on her face again, thank god he isn’t looking at her, although she’s quite sure it’s visible in her voice when she asks again, “You sure?”

“Yes. Go pack”, Joel said sternly, trying to gain some sense of control again.

“Ok.”, Lana agreed, nodding her head once but not moving from her spot, “We’re still gonna be here a while… you can sit.” She didn’t wait for him to respond, instead walking into the kitchen to grab some fruit for herself and begin packing her things.

~ * ~

A couple of hours later and she had gotten a glimpse of Joel sitting quite comfortably on her couch. The idea of taking a nap was almost irresistible if there wasn’t a very capable man of killing her in her very living room. Lana noticed that he himself was fighting off sleep as he sat on her couch, hand holding the side of his head. Although it’s a hypocritical thought to suggest, it was probably best he did sleep, since he was going to do all the driving.

He's probably fighting off sleep in her presence. It makes her feel like a threat though, something that calmed her deep inside.

“You can sleep. I won’t do anything”, she suggested with a handful of ammo, ironically, just as she was going to sort them on the kitchen table. She really wouldn’t do anything. If he didn’t do anything to her, there was no reason to. And she had turned over the thought of the trip in her head, she did feel quite safer going accompanied to the open road, something she’s never done on her own. It was the best offer she’s had in a while.

Plus, woman’s underwear made him uncomfortable. That was something she’d hold tightly onto whenever she felt threatened by him. Fucking hilarious.

“No”

“No what? You’re not tired or you still don’t trust me?”

“M’not tired and definitely don’t trust ya”, he grumbled with his eyes half closed.

Right.

She continued to organize her ammo, sorting it between her pistol and revolver as she spoke, the soft clink of bullets and creak of her chair lulling him slowly. Sun creaked in through her living room window, casting a warm stripe over his lap like a warm blanket, making it’s way across the kitchen table, over Lanas arms in a warm embrace.

“You don’t have to trust me, really. I don’t trust you. But I’ve been good recently, you can’t deny that”, she said half-serious.

Lana thought she heard the faintest of a chuckle come from him, but even if it did, it was most definitely a sarcastic matter.

“In the last twenty-four hours ya stole from me n’ Tess, tried to run, twice, kicked me in my face, ran your mouth... am I missin’ anything?”

Lana’s eyes widened briefly as she silently mouthed a “wow” to herself, he had really set quite the list.

“Stole a slice of bread from the counter”

“And I-“, Joel paused, staring at her as if she’d just confessed to murder, “Ya did what?”

Lana shrugged her shoulders, “You didn’t even notice, plus, you gave me a concussion.”

“Ya bit me-“

“You kidnapped me-“

“Rather I leave you concussed on a rooftop?”

“You strapped me to a chair and pointed a gun to my head.”

“Deserved that…”

“Right”. Lana finished on sorting her bullets, looking over at him to notice the short banter had made him straighten in his seat, looking a little more awaken. It was only noon, six more hours to go. “Well, I’m gonna go finish packing. Take a nap, if you dare”, she drawled sarcastically, disappearing in the hallway.

They had managed to keep quiet for the next five hours that afternoon. She could only imagine what he was doing in the living room to keep himself busy all that time.

Lana had packed, although it took only about an hour to do so, gathering some food, water, an extra shirt, ammo, weapon, a half-used, half-expired medical kit, and other smaller things. The rest of the time she had remained locked in her room, radio on and map sprawled out in front of her as she sat crisscross on the floor.

She spent most of the time looking for any details she missed, deciding to head to Wyoming with Joel, where the most prominent leads were, then if necessary, driving off to Montana once she got the chance, leaving him with his brother. Tommy, she thinks. Her map was decorated with ink, circles, exes, arrows, code numbers and names. Her journal looked quite the same, scribbled and crossed with any additional information she had gathered in Albany, a distance memory made so present by ink on paper.

Her fingers brushed lightly over the pages as she took a sharp inhale.

~ * ~

“I could be wrong, I really could. They could purposely send out mixed signals. Half the chatter points to Boston, half on the other side of the country- Montana. Then… other’s say there’s a basecamp, based in Wyoming. But again… it could be-“

“Just chatter, yeah, I understand”, Lana had interrupted, staring at the dry blood staining her shoes. It’s been there for four days. She hasn’t minded washing them off, it won’t erase what happened anyway. “Where exactly is this basecamp?”

“Last I heard… outskirts of Jackson. Somewhere up high, apparently. They’re taking up a cabin there. They have quite the crew, supplies for weeks.”

Lana nodded at Mattheo, chewing on her bottom lip, “Do you know if he’s there?”

Mattheo took a deep breath before answering, straightening off the table in their small tent, “No way to know for sure… but there’s a chance. They certainly aren’t in Seattle anymore. Hospital’s been abandoned since…”

Lana nodded again, absent mindedly as she turned over the possibility in her head, “What’s the info on Montana?”

“Same thing, basecamp,” Mattheo stifled a yawn, rolling back his shoulders as he lowered the volume on the static radio beside him, “Heard something ‘bout it being referred to as ‘point three’, don’t know. But it’s mentioned less.”

Lana caught the way his shoulders slumped forward, light eyes brimmed with dark circles, dirty blond hair falling over his eyes in a tousled mess. She hurried with her questions to let him off the hook, “Ok. Basecamp in Jackson, Montana is point three, abandoned Seattle… What about Boston? That’s not so far.”

“It’s a long shot”, Mattheo said dismissively and quickly. Too quickly.

“But it’s still a possibility”.

“Not likely, Maeve… If they’re talking about points out West, Seattle, Jackson… There’s not much for them to be doing in Boston, is there?”

“But Mattheo, you said on the radio-“

“I also said it could all just be chatter.”

“Well, they were here! Weren’t they? A couple of days ago they were here, in Albany. Boston is the closest location out of all of them. Maybe they set up camp in Boston before coming here, maybe they’re still there, someone still must be in Boston, right? It’s only been four days and-“

“Lana.”, Mattheo had said sternly in a way she hated, the way it made him sound like authority, it made her feel small. Rounding the table as he made his way over to her, she was still rushing out any possibility that came to mind when he caught her wrists and brought them between them, flush against his chest. He dipped his head lower, trying to look at her, “Lana.”

She looked at him, like a deer caught in the headlights, and she hated the way his face looked. Carved in pity.

“Go to Boston, no one said you can’t. You do what you want. But let me remind you, there are limited supplies here, limited time, and you’re alone on this.”

“That’s my choice.”, she stated firmly, pulling back one of her hands to quickly dry the single tear that had stubbornly made its way down her face.

“I know, I know.”, he nodded at her, “I’m just saying it’s an unnecessary risk. I’d… well I’d just focus on going West. But this isn’t my journey, it’s yours… You made that clear”, the last part came with a bit of a bite to it.

Lana took a sharp breath in, biting the inside of her cheek as she nodded weakly at him, averting her gaze as he dropped her other wrist. She then breathed out, walking to the other side of the table, collecting the map and any loose piece of paper that Mattheo had gathered information on. Lana looked up at him, who had been quietly watching her.

“I’m going to Boston first. Worst comes to worst, no one is there. The Boston QZ is bigger, so I’ll gather supplies and make my way out West next.”, Mattheo watched her, arms crossed over his chest, now it was his turn to swallow the tears that threatened to form, watching her slip from him so easily in the name of revenge. He tried to make her think it over, but he also knew that once she made up her mind, it was over, and she had just made her mind up. Lana knew he noticed, “I’ll be back when it’s all over. Then I won’t leave again”.

“Caleb said that too, y’know?”

Lana knew what Mattheo was trying to do, and as low as it was, she didn’t blame him for it, she probably would’ve said the same. Her thumb and pointer finger came up to wipe the tears that brimmed both her eyes, averting her gaze again, “Yeah… well, at least he fucking tried, he didn’t sit back and let it all just go to shit. I’m not sitting back either”.

Mattheo nodded, scrunching his face in a silent, ‘wow, fuck you too’, “I’m staying to look after the others. They’re mourning, Maeve. They need the support here, as well.”

“I’m fucking mourning too, are my ways of grieving not valid to you?”

He let out a scoff, as if in disbelief of what she had said, albeit it was childish on her part, “It isn’t a fucking competition, Maeve! I’m just saying I’m doing what I can!”

“I didn’t say you weren’t-“

“It was also, remind you, your choice to go out on your own!”

“For your own good!”

“How is letting you go out across the country alone after the people that murdered half the towns population benefitting me? How Lana?”

“Because I refuse to watch you die!”

Mattheo could only stare at her, eyes bloodshot and hair wild. The air grew cold and stale and she could feel guilt swell up and around her heart, grasping at her ribs and pulling them in, caging her chest until it challenged her to breathe.

For Lana’s sake, she did – selfishly – want him to come. Demand that she wouldn’t leave without him. Truth is she was fucking terrified and didn’t believe at all she could do this alone. But if he did come with her and he… if he died, that blood was on her hands. And she didn’t think she could carry another body to burn again.

“That’s selfish. That’s selfish because how do you think I feel? After all that loss now I have to watch you walk away too? And yeah, possibly fucking die? That still does me no benefit”, he bit back, a tear shamelessly trailing down his cheek, making it hard to look at him any longer.

“Well”, and on the first word her voice broke, shaky and unstable as she leaned over the table, unable to hold herself up any longer, “What do you want me to do, Mattheo?”

He looked at her, as if noticing her for the first time, he really looked at her, shifting his weight on his feet, “I- I don’t-“

“I can’t stay. It’ll haunt me for the rest of my life if I don’t do this. What’s worth living if that’s the reality I’ll be facing? I must at least try. If I die… at least it’ll be worth something. I’ll be worth something”, Lana’s voice cracked and vanished at the end of her sentence, but she tried to go on, “You stay, it makes sense. People need you and you can offer help here that I can’t.”

Lana lifted from the table and walked over to him, even though he turned around, back facing her as soon as he noticed her approaching him. “I know it’s a lot to ask… but if… if you could just let me do this, just let me go once. And when I’m done, I’ll come back. And I won’t ever leave again. I promise.”

Mattheo had tensed and relaxed into her embrace from behind, her cheek against the muscles on his back, arms wrapped around his waist as she mumbled against his shirt. And suddenly, the exhaustion from the last couple of days washed over him, drowning him completely. He couldn’t argue anymore than these last couple of days, neither did he want his last moments with her to be made of arguing. “Promise you’ll at least stay the night?”

Lana closed her eyes, listening to him breathing. She could take one night to fully prepare, yes. “I promise”.

He took a sharp inhale, turning around to embrace her in a proper hug, warming the air around them as he dipped his chin lower, kissing the top of her head before mumbling, “May you find your utopia”.

“And may it be closer than you think”, she mumbled back.

~ * ~

Surprisingly, it wasn’t the silent crying she had been doing, or the tightening in her chest, making it hard to breathe, or the static radio buzzing that made her come back to the present. But Joel’s voice calling her from the living room. From the tone of it, it sounded like he had been calling her for a while now too.

“Lana!?”

“Yeah! What?”, she said, quickly cleaning herself up and the things around her, packing it up as she stood and came to her door, peaking it open, “What is it?”

“Five o’clock, come on out”, he had mumbled after a sigh, relieved to hear her finally answer.

Lana took a deep breath, hoping it wasn’t obvious what she was doing, and if it was, hoping that Joel would have the decency not to ask. And so he did no such thing, save from a stern look that lingered on her face a moment longer than usual, he didn’t ask. He also probably didn’t fucking care. Good.

“What are you doing?”, she asked, watching him lean over her kitchen table, tight sleeves rolled up to his elbows, hair curling slightly at the base of his neck, map and a blue marker under him – her blue marker, might she add, meaning he snooped around her kitchen –.

“Plannin’ our route, come here”, Joel gestured with a tilt of his head. She took a moment, staring at him for a bit longer before somewhat reluctantly standing at his side. It was the first time she had been this close to him without him threatening or trying to kill her.

Joel barely acknowledged her at her side, save for a quick side glance followed by a sharp exhale, Lana followed his finger that trailed the map as he spoke, “We’re takin’ sort of a straight line to Wyoming, so uh… we’re hittin’ New York, Pennsylvania, Ohio, Indiana, Illinois, Iowa, Nebraska and then…” he trailed off as he tapped the state of Wyoming.

Lana had stopped following his movement after he pointed to New York, being pinned there by her thoughts before she cleared her throat and forced herself to look at him, “Wyoming… where exactly are you headed?”

“S’not important”, he mumbled, refusing to look at her as he pretended to keep himself occupied by the map.

“Kinda is… Wyoming’s a big state, how do we figure out where we both gotta go?”

“Where are ya goin’, then?”, Joel asked back at her. She refused the urge to roll her eyes, dotting her finger over the state right beside his.

“Here, Jackson. Ever heard of it?”

Joel pulled his hand back, not exactly when she joined her finger with his, but closer to when she said the city. He glared at her beside him for a moment as if forgetting how to speak, “Jackson?”, he repeated lowly.

“Yeah”, Lana said looking at him, as if feeling the sudden shift in the air, “why?”

Joel stared at her for a moment longer before shaking his head lightly, “Nothin’”, he stated before suddenly straightening, folding up his map, which in the sudden movement caused a paper cut on Lana’s finger. She hissed as she raised her hands.

“What the fuck, Joel?”, she said as she watched him put the map in his back pocket and walk away from her.

“You’ll live” he mumbled under his breath.

“Yeah, not shit. I’m talking about me telling you exactly where I’m going, you becoming all weird and then walking away without telling me where you’re going.”

“Said it don’t matter-“

“Yes it fucking does. You’re not dropping me off at Jackson and leaving with my truck!”

Joel had remained silent, again pretending to look occupied as he ruffled through his bag. And the silence spoke for himself. Oh shit.

“Oh shit.” Lana’s eyebrows shot up, her face lifting slightly with it before a small incredulous laugh slipped passed her lips, making Joel stop and stare at her, “I get it now, you’re going to Jackson too-“

“No-“

“You’re scared we’re ending up in the same spot huh?”

“That ain’t where I’m-“

“Oh give it up, Joel. That’s where Tommy is, right?”

Save from the small pause Joel took on his bag, he swung it over his shoulder, walking over to her front door and grasping the knob in his hand as he refused to look at her, “Get your bag, we’re leavin’”

“There’s still almost an hour till dawn.”, Lana said, crossing her arms over her chest.

“Don’t matter. I said we’ll go now, so we’ll go n-“

Lana plucked the truck keys from her back pocket, dangling it on her pointer finger in front of him, “With these? Yeah, good luck.”, she said as she closed her first around them, lowering her arm, “What’s the plan, Joel? Full plan. Otherwise, I’m not getting in that truck”.

Joel stared at her, eyes dark and stern on her. He didn’t look this bothered even when she had tried to jump out of his window.

“Gimme em’ keys, now”

“I know you don’t talk much, but tough luck, Joel. We’re doing this together, you gotta tell me the plan.”

“Lana. Keys.” Joel outstretched his other hands in front of him.

“Joel. Plan.” She pressed, matching his tone and expression.

It took the moment just for Joel’s gaze to drop to his gun on his hip for Lana to palm hers strapped to the holster on her thigh, “Don’t”, she had warned. “Just fucking talk.”

Joel let out a heavy sigh, eyes closing for a moment as he reluctantly let go of his knuckle-white grip on the doorknob. He figured he’d have to speak at some moment about this, and if he’d regret it, he could always just kill her. Thing was, he knew Lana could be smart – when she wanted to – so he though carefully about his next words.

“We’ll go to Jackson together. You’ll see your brother n’ I’ll se mine. Alright?” he said sternly, “but just ‘cus it’s the same city ain’t mean we stayin’ in the same place.”, he added, speaking more to himself.

Lana pursed her lips and nodded once, letting go of the gun on her thigh as she swung the keys on her pointer finger, walking over to him, “See? Wasn’t so hard… Plus, I don’t plan on staying in Jackson, so…”, Lana placed the keys in Joels outstretched hands, walking passed him to the door before he moved.

Joel nudged Lana’s hip hard, making her spin to face him. The hand that had clutched the keys she gave him came up in front of her, forearm bracing against her throat, pressing her back into the door. His other hand reached for his side, grabbing his revolver tucked into the waistband of his jeans. Joel pressed the barrel into her hip bone, the metal making her shiver before it bit into her skin, bruising it there.

It all happened so fast that when she finally managed to look at him, eyes wide and breathes coming in short intervals, she hadn’t thought of even what to say, barely registering what had happened. All she could think was of him. And how much Joel was a fucking coward for allowing her to think this was ever going to work out. And him. And how it was all for nothing. And Caleb. And Mattheo. And-

“What- What the fuck, Joel!?”

Joel wasn’t looking at her, head hanging low before he finally lifted his gaze, looking at her, face unreadable. With the way she squirmed under his grasp, the gun caught the thin skin of her hip in an awkward position, pinching and making it bleed as he pressed it further against her, trying to make her still under him. Then he finally spoke.

“Pull some shit like that again anytime during this journey… And I won’t fuckin’ hesitate. Is that clear?”

“Joel-“, she rasped, hands coming up to wrap around his forearm against her throat, clutching at the skin there with her nails, sinking it into him. Her eyes began to water, be it from the lack of proper breathing, from the shock, from the grief of peace she would never find.

“Is that…” he repeated, leaning closer to her, inches from her face as he pressed the gun further into her skin, sinking into the thin skin on her hip, “clear?”

Lana gasped, finally registering what he was asking, “Yes”, she chocked out, “Yes that’s fine- clear. That’s clear-“.

Joel stared at her, not moving an inch away from her face, not loosening the pressure on her throat or the gun on her hip. “Good”, he concluded, finally letting her go all at once, taking a step away from her as he slipped his gun to his back again.

He didn’t spare her a single glance as her knees buckled and she crumbled to the floor, sliding against the wall as her hands came up to her throat, heaving and coughing to catch her breath. Lana swallowed a pool of bile that rose in her throat. She looked at the back of his head with watery eyes, the fire of hatred drying them out. When she finally collected herself, she stood and walked weakly to the table, limping a bit as she placed her backpack on it.

Only then did Joel look at her again, “What are ya doin’? I said we’re leavin’.”

Lana didn’t turn to look at him as she opened her backpack and lifted her shirt, revealing a crescent moon shaped cut on her hip, peppered in red and slowly-turning-purple bruises around it. She sniffled, biting her bottom lip as it began to quiver. She couldn’t believe the second time in less than twenty-four hours she had almost gotten herself killed, almost risked it all for such a stupid reason.

It was almost all for nothing, and she was beginning to fear that she really had no purpose. That she was useless after all. She was no hero like Caleb. No protector of the community like Mattheo. No fighter on her way to Wyoming.

Lana pulled the medical kit from her bag, taking out a vise of alcohol, a clean piece of cloth and some not-so-sticky tape. Joel noticed but didn’t offer to help, not that she’d expected him to. But he did stay silent, listening to her sniffle and take shallow breaths as she cleaned herself up and closed her wound.

She slowly pulled her shirt back down, put her things away, swung the bag over her shoulder and walked over to the door without saying a word, waiting for Joel to open it for her. A moment later, he walked behind her, reached beside her, opened the door, pocketed the keys and pulled it open. She slipped under his arm and out the door, not waiting for him as she made her way to the bottom of the building.

The sun had disappeared behind the tall buildings and further down, the whole QZ going dark, save for the few streetlights, tank and patrol cars lights and FEDRA officers flashlights. They quietly made their way through alleyways, quickly slipping between one building and the other, avoiding any officers patrol points. They arrived at the fence separating them from the outside world, at the famous opening called point 34.

Joel held the torn metal fence up just enough for Lana to crawl under, and shortly after he did the same. They walked between abandoned cars and trucks, always in the shadows and avoiding strong lights. When they reached the green tarp, Lana and Joel kneeled between the truck and another car, safely hidden as she pulled it down quickly, slipping off the cover to reveal the old red truck.

“Get in on the other side, fasten your belt and wait for me”, Joel had spoken for the first time since their apartment, although she didn’t look at him, she obeyed and did such thing.

Lana clicked the belt in place, eyes darting through the truck windows to check their surroundings. A few seconds went by when Joel flung open the drivers side of the door, he placed one foot in and was about to pull himself in when a bright light illuminated him by his side. Joel looked at Lana for a half a second before the soldier yelled.

“Step out of the truck, now!”. Joel froze, eyes flicking between Lana’s. She was about to say something, but he shushed her, shaking his head slowly, “Step out of the truck, hands on your head, slowly.”

Joel followed the soldier instructions, coming to face him before flinching from the bright light hitting his face. His hands were high, slowly making their way behind his head, “Look, I ain’t lookin’ for any trouble, I-“

“Shut the fuck up! Hands on your head, turn around, get on your knees”, the soldier yelled at him, flashlight and rifle still trained stiffly at Joels figure. Lana’s hands came over her mouth to keep from being heard as she tried to calm her breathing.

“Listen, I’m just-“, Joel didn’t get the moment to finish as the FEDRA soldier lunged forward, forcefully turning him around and kicking the back of Joel’s knees in, making him fold and hit the ground harshly on his knees, hands firmly on his head,

“Stay still!”, the soldier continued, pulling out his scanner and bringing it up against Joel’s neck, he barely flinched as the device beeped twice and turned green, “Unauthorized exit from the quarantine zone, you’ll be hung for that.”

Lana couldn’t help the small gasp that pushed passed her lips at the thought, losing control of the situation once again. The soldier whipped towards her through the open drivers door, she squinted at the light before they widened once again, noticing the rifle being pointed at her.

“What the fu-“, the soldier could barely continue before Joel quickly turned around and lunged at the him, arms wrapping around the man and taking them both to the gound. Lana yelped at the sight, quickly removing her seatbelt and climbing out of her seat, rounding the car to stand behind Joel.

But those mere five seconds were enough for Joels fist to connect with the soldiers face over and over and over again. Lana couldn’t do anything but stare, watching as he repeatedly beat in the man’s face, his knuckles coming up bloodier by the second. Between grunts, quick breaths and the squelchy sound of skin hitting skin, Lana was intrigued, tangled between the past seconds of pure fear and horror, and currently lost in the protective and violent acts coming from Joel. A new and dangerously pleasurable sight of not being on the receiving end of that violence for once, it made something primal switch in her, reminding her of the way she acted when they had attacked Caleb, and her father, and Mattheo.

It made her feel like she could see Joel. Like there was no wall to break, and if there were, this is what she’d be met with. An animal.

It made her feel like they had something in common, something ugly, dirty, violent, feral, completely unhinged.

“Lana!”, it reached her ears muffled, something ringing in the distance, “Lana!”, Joel called out to her, a bit clearer and more present now. His hands grasped her biceps, shaking her slightly as he repeated himself, his voice sharp and stern, “Lana.”

She finally met his gaze, blinking a bit before she truly registered his form in front of her. Joels eyes were wide and frenzy as they searched hers, “We gotta go. Get in the truck, now”. Joel turned her around with a push, hand on her back as he guided her back to the other side of the truck. Once she sat, he shut the door and quickly made his way to the other side, jumping in and starting the car after a couple of turns.

Joel stepped on the gas with everything he had, driving off without saying a word as his eyes glanced between the mirrors. Lana had slowly turned around, watching the still figure of the once FEDRA soldier lay on the floor, before turning back around to look forward.

“Ya ok? Put on your belt”, Joel said, one hand on the steering wheel as the other reached for his own belt, clicking it in place. Lana took so long to answer he had to look at her just to make sure she was actually in the car.

“Yeah, fine.”, Lana said, voice a bit distant, left behind at the scene as she pulled her belt over herself.

The car zoomed out and past the quarantine zone, kicking up loose pebbles and rubble around them. Leaving behind Boston, heading to New York… heading home. Lana looked over at Joel, whose eyes were glued on the road, his back off the seat, stiff from the situation he had just escaped. Her eyes followed the cut along his nose by her kicking his face the day before, falling to the crescent moon shaped cuts along his forearm, gifted by her nails just a few moments ago, to the freshly bloodied knuckled gripping the stirring wheel.

What he’s capable of doing makes her think they’re not so different when it comes to revenge.

#the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou hbo #joel miller #tess servopoulos #f!reader

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pervysenpaix · 2 years

Note

So I was scrolling through your page when you forced my third eye open by mentioning KamiBaku and I would love you forever if you could do like poly kaminari-Reader-bakugou headcanons or something just with them

I see I found another believer 🤗

Buckle up , kitten. Cause we’re about to go on a ride. Stay with me now , love. If you blink you might miss it.

Warning (18+ NSFW CONTENT) MDNI

People were shocked when Bakugo and Kaminari started dating.

Seemingly complete opposites.

Oil and vinegar.

Nobody understood why it worked because they seemed so different. they were just so in love.

But what they didn’t understand was that they were actually very similar.

Both with very dynamic personalities, but on opposite ends of the spectrum.

Kaminari who’s silly, playful, and energetic with Bakugo who’s serious, aggressive, and … energetic?

That’s just surface level, now what they don’t see is how they interact with eachother.

Kaminari helps Bakugo relax, grounds him when he’s crossing over into fight mode. He may still be angry and talking shit but at least he’s not ready to commit a murder.

Even though Denki would be an accomplice if need be.

Bakugo makes Kaminari comfortable, allowing him to recharge his social batteries and taking away the pressure of the “life of the party” role that’s been assigned to them.

They’re both still very high strung.

Even though they balance out in other areas, they’re energy is something that’s yet to be addressed.

Enter you.

You met the pair during 3rd year when they’d already been dating for a good while. Maybe about 2 1/2 years with breaks here and there.

Cause there was that one time Bakugo got his dick sucked by Brokechako when Deku’s kinky ass wanted to be cucked.

And when Kaminari walked in on Jirou changing and couldn’t help himself.

That doesn’t matter.

We’re talking about you.

The sweet & spicy, cute & feisty, thicker than a snicker , Y/N L/N.

Everyone loves you, why would they be any different.

You didn’t go to UA, you were quirkless, you just spent a lot of time around the campus because you’re Mina’s cousin from America.

Ifykyk.

Everyone loved you. Super popular.

Pretty , hilarious , with an ass so big it’d make a polar bear sweat.

Naturally you made friends with the Bakusquad, gaining special attention from the two blondes.

You fit right into their dynamic, having aspects of both of their personalities.

It was a match made in heaven.

Only a matter of time before feelings start to arise.

Small things

Soft looks , flirty jokes, lingering touches.

Everyone knew it was gonna happen, it was just a matter of when.

Fast forward THREE YEARS and y’all are 22.

Yes , friends. Three fucking years of mutual pining and these pussies didn’t even have the balls to confess. 😭

You asked them out, and they immediately said yes.

Well Katsuki said “ Bout time, Dumbass” and denki retorted, “please - Kacchan , you whine about how much you love her every night”.

You’re dating now.

Everything is swell.

Why wouldn’t it be ? You’re doing the same thing you’ve been doing all these years but now you’re KISSING.

Ooo friend, the make out sessions get hot 🥵

These two are very handsy and they love pulling you on their laps and feeling you up. Hands all over your body but never underneath your clothes.

Only time things get a little intense is when Denki brings out the good shit 🌬 and y’all end up in a sloppy three way kiss.

Maybe you and Denki suck Kacchan’s tiddies a lil bit but nothing crazy.

They try to keep it PG cause the three of you agreed to not rush things.

Bitch that was the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard because y’all done had 3 years of foreplay but I digress.

They’re very possessive and borderline clingy.

Expect to share your location, receive at least 3 calls and 10 texts that are them “just checking in” and random pop ups to your studio.

You’re an influencer/model with a pretty nice sized studio (thanks to your fashion designer mother-in-law).

They’re very supportive but jealous.

Risqué photoshoots are kind of a love/hate thing.

Shit hit the fan when you did a “semi nude” campaign for Hawks new hero merch. Wearing nothing but his signature bomber jacket.

You should’ve known better.

The men had shown up to your studio demanding that you follow them. They were very stern and left little room for arguments. It was quiet. Too quiet. Only sound coming from the woosh of passing cars, which was strange because Denki loved listening to music.

“Umm … one of you gonna tell me what this is about ?” You ask, tapping their shoulders from the backseat. Denki was driving and shrugged you off, but Katsuki squeezed your hand tightly. Ignoring your question and staring out the window.

“ Suki, baby- Slow down !” You whined, struggled to keep up with the explosion hero as he pulled you through the parking lot and into the private penthouse elevator.

“Denki , what’s wrong ? Look at me !” The blonde regarded you, brow raised and arms across his chest. Still silent. Golden gaze sending chills down your spine.

The elevator ding and he grabbed the crook of your elbow, pulling you inside their luxury apartment and into the bedroom.

“Okay , now I’m getting irr-

“Are we a joke to you , Y/N?” His tone was cold as ice. Electricity crackling around his clenched palm as he circled you. Stopping behind you and wrapping his charged hand around your throat. It wasn’t too painful but you were still shocked. Grasping for his hand while he squeezed tighter and laughed. “What’s the matter, babe ? I thought you liked attention.”

Confusion, and arousal, clouded your mind.

“Baby, wha-

“I thought you were my good girl ? My Princess ?” It was the first time he’d spoke and you didn’t have to see his face to know that he was sneering. Lip curled up flashing those pretty white teeth.

“What ? Y’all are tripping ! What are you-

Bakugo steps forward pressing his lips against yours , placing his hands on top of Denki’s and adding even more pressure to your neck. He licks your mouth open, sucking up your tongue , barely allowing you to breath.

A hand wanders across your chest, groping your breasts hard before ripping through your shirt and exposing your lace bra.

Gasping, you wrench your head away, chest heaving and glare at the blonde.

“ARE YOU OUT OF YOUR FUCKING MIND ? THAT SHIT WAS EXPENSIVE?”

Denki scoffed, “that’s what you’re worried about, sweetheart ? The price tag ?” He kicked your feet apart, spreading your legs wider and pulling your skirt up over your ass. “Of course you’re not worried about us seeing you naked. Half of Japan already saw that this morning”.

Oh. So that’s what this is about.

You smirked, “oh , don’t tell me you’re jealous of some little pictures. Mad cause I modeled for #1.” You drawled poking your plump lips out into a pout.

“Watch it , slut” Katsuki growled, pressing his forehead against yours.

“Ha! I hope you don’t think you’re scaring me. You should know me better than that.” You smacked your lips, “what can you actually do ? Hate fuck me ? I’ve been wanting some dick so be my guests”.

Their pissed expression made you laugh harder but you couldn’t deny how wet you were getting. Trying to close and rub your thighs together for some friction.

“Oh, sweetheart. You’re confused. We’re not gonna fuck you. Right , Kacchan ?”

“Nah , you don’t deserve my dick”.

Annoying, but you decided to play into their little game knowing there’s no way you’d end this night without getting fucked.

“Then what are you gonna do , Mr Hero ?”

“Tonight I’m a villain, bitch.”

Blindfolded. Hands tied behind your back. Back arched and butt naked.

Denki was sitting in the edge of the bed with your lower half wrapped around his waist. Dick out rubbing and poking at your entrance but never going in while he struck your ass repeatedly with a charged hand.

“Little pussy’s so fuckin’ tight. Damn shame had to be a fucking brat.” He smacked you again , making you jerk forward and shove katsuki deeper down your throat

“That’s it , take that fuckin’ dick , whore” Katsuki spat, holding your mouth open with his fingers while he fucked into your throat.

“Look at what you made me do, Princess” he growled, shoving his length until you were smothered by his pubes.

“Fuck , Fuck , Fuck. This pussy feels good. I’m about to cum, what about you bro ?” He breathed, sliding up and down your wetness.

“Same” he hissed, hips stuttering as his head rolled back and he painted your mouth.

The visual proved to much for the other blonde because he was spilling all over your cunt. Pushing his seed into your hole with two fingers.

“Breeding without the benefit. What a shame” he laughed.

“D-daddy please” you whined, when Katsuki pulled out, voice hoarse from his harsh treatment.

“Say something , slut ?”

“Yeah , love. You gotta speak up. Can’t hear you with cum in your throat ?”

You whined in frustration, trying to push back against Kaminari but he held you steady.

“I’m s-sorry , please just f-fuck me.”

“Aww , that was pretty. But not yet , maybe after the punishment” Katsuki cooed, smearing some smeared cum in your cheek.

Your head shot up.

“B-but that was 100 and and , you both came” You hiccuped, tears falling and lip all wobbly.

“Babe, there’s two of us. You should always expect doubles. Now, you’re gonna be a good girl and give katsuki a pussy job and deep throat my cock. Then after we cum once or twice , we might give you a finger.”

“Just one !?”

A sharp smack landed on your abused ass, hot and heavy. No doubt he’d used his quirk.

“Don’t get greedy , Princess. We can do this all night.”

Didn’t I say they were energetic? 🌚

My Moots 💋💋| @xogabbiexo , @blkchxrryblyss , @nasty-quillz , @namjoonswifeyy , @tenyaiidasslut , @luna-indigoduh , @riozakii , @plussizeficchick , @bookwormsenpai , @not-your-damsel , @simpliheavenli , @tsukihime25

#kamibaku #Kamibaku x blackreader #kamibaku x reader #kaminari smut #bakugo x black reader #bakugo smut #kaminari x blackreader #mha smut #mha x black reader #mha x female reader

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im-in-vin-ci-ble · 3 years

Note

Hello~ Can I request a Mark x fem reader who’s a lot like starfire and is very Powerful close to omni man and is also an alien princess but she lives on earth and they go to the same school and she’s also a solo hero who one day sees invincible fighting off a tough villain with the teenteam but is losing so she steps in to help and he recognizes her and starts getting all nervous since he has a crush on her and then after that they introduce themselves get to know each other and eventually work they’re way up to mark confessing and she says yes :3

(If possible can it be a slow burn im a sucker for slow burn tropes and stuff 😤)

A/N: I gotchu, this bout to be a lil long 😮‍💨 making the fem!reader a little more human, figured since she’s in an actual school for humans she’d need to adapt to the humor/culture so she doesn’t get suspicious

Pairing: Mark Grayson x Fem!Reader

Rating: M, some swearing and gross monster guts

Warnings: N/A

Summary: Mark is finally joined in battle by an alien princess who has caught his attention. Turns out she goes to the same high school, and if he can throw around 150-pound monsters across the street, surely he can confess his true feelings to a girl... right?

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!" Rex Splode yelled as he wobbled up off the ground. "We've been on this thing for hours and it only has one damn cut!"

"Calm down Rex," Atom Eve said from behind, "You're gonna get even more tired from yelling."

The two watched as Dupli-Kate attempted to distract the scaly kaiju, replicating herself second after second to give space for Invincible to hit the monster by surprise. The kaiju's screech echoed throughout the city and shook the foundations of the surrounding buildings, forcing Rex, Atom Eve and Robot to move aside and save however many civilians they could.

"Invincible," Dupli-Kate shouted, "I can't keep up much longer!"

A sonic boom overcame the surrounding noise and Invincible appeared from the clouds. Dropping in at maximum speed, the young superhero balled his hand into a fist and took a deep breath. A loud battle cry escaped his mouth but it was cut short as the kaiju's heavy arm slapped him away just in time, throwing him through destroyed buildings until he landed on the pavement.

Out of breath, dizzy, and in a serious amount of pain, Invincible laid on the broken road for a second to regain his strength. The wind softly blew down on him as he focused his sight on a contrail leading towards him, and he watched as a girl in purple land right next to him.

She bent down and held him upright, "Invincible, are you okay?"

"Mmhmm," Invincible croaked with a defeated smile, "Totally fine."

His sight reverted back to normal and the first face he saw shocked him alive. It was her. They never talked in school and he was almost sure she didn't know his real name, but here she was, basically cradling him in her arms and calling him Invincible.

So she knows who I am. At least with the suit.

"Come on, that kaiju is about to be destroy the entire city," she said, helping him get back on his feet and flying away to the seemingly unbeatable figure.

He huffed, "Stay cool, Mark. She's here to help," and he followed suit.

This marked the first time he really interacted with the new superhero; he'd only ever see her on TV or read about how she saved people on the newspaper. He'd be lying if he said he didn't find her attractive — as do most guys his age — but watching her blast the kaiju with the green bursts of energy from her hands made her only even more appealing.

Invincible regrouped with the rest of the Teen Team. "I don't know what else we can do to this thing," Atom Eve admitted.

"I do," the girl spoke up. "Distract it as best as you can but stay far away from the stomach. When I tell you to take cover, make a run for it."

Robot replied, "That seems highly dangerous."

"Let's do it," Invincible quickly replied in a high-pitched voice.

Everyone looked over at him, surprised at the sudden change in his voice and just how fast he reacted in agreement.

"Uh, it's a good plan," he nodded, causing the girl to shoot a warm smile his way. "I definitely think we should do it... if all of you... uh, think, we should."

Exhausted and out of options, the rest of the group followed her orders and took different corners of the monster. Dupli-Kate handled one leg, Rex Splode handled the other, Robot and Atom Eve took the arms, and Invincible went back to the head. The kaiju struggled to keep its focus on just one of the heroes, and while it remained preoccupied, the girl absorbed all the energy she could muster and flew straight for the stomach.

"Take cover, now!"

Invincible and the Teen Team moved away and they watched as the flying hero's eyes opened in a bright shade of neon green, both her arms extended out as a large ball of green formed around her hands. The rays exploded right through the kaiju and it shrieked in pain as she briefly disappeared into the stomach. The kaiju lost balance and slowly fell forward as the girl, her eyes still green, appeared on the other side and harshly fell down on the ground.

The kaiju landed on the street with a loud boom and the group ran towards the girl who was now covered in parts of the kaiju's digestive system.

"Okay, that's kinda gross," Rex Splode commented, to which Dupli-Kate quickly responded, "Shut up."

Invincible dropped down on his knees and wiped the blood and guts off her face. Subtly admiring her facial features up close, he couldn't believe (and almost felt stupid) that he never recognized her despite the fact that he almost saw her everyday.

The girl groaned in agony softly shook her head, her eyes fluttering open to the sight of Invincible's dark hair, goggles and yellow mask.

"Hey, hey," he whispered, "Are you alright?"

She sat up and hissed at her injuries, holding her head with her bloody hand. "Mmhmm," she gently nodded with a half smile, her eye one still shut. "Totally fine."

---

Mark had a hard time focusing on school. His body ached from yesterday's injuries and he suffered a few bruises from literally tearing through buildings. He made his way to his locker and rested his head on the metal door, dreading the fact that he still has an entire afternoon of classes to go. Closing his eyes in hopes to quickly recharge, his moment of peace was disrupted when a shoulder rammed into his chest and several books landed right on his toe.

"Oh god, I'm so sorry," a voice exclaimed.

Mark's head snapped up at the sound of the voice. It's her. He momentarily froze and watched the girl bend down to pick up her things, and when he finally regained movement a split second later, he also bent down to help her out. He kept quiet as he tried to think of the coolest possible response to make her think that he was actually the coolest guy in school, but all he could think of was how heavenly and badass she looked yesterday.

"Thanks," she said as he handed her the book. "I hope your foot doesn't bruise."

They both stood up and he shot her a nervous smile. "T-totally fine," he replied, clearing his throat afterwards.

She crossed her brows at his response and nodded, and a look of suspicion replaced her worried demeanor.

"I'm Mark, by the way," he cleared his throat again and reached out his hand, "Grayson."

"Mark... Grayson, huh?" she responded, scanning his face as her suspicion grew. Her eyes finally landed on the hand that was waiting, and she took one last look into his eyes before deciding to shake it. "I'm Y/N," she introduced herself with a skeptical smile, feeling his sweaty palm wrapped around hers. "I'll see you around, Mark Grayson."

She walked away and Mark's eyes followed her trail as far as he could see. He quickly pulled out his phone to send a text to Eve, who was actually watching their interaction a few classrooms down.

"Mark," Eve called out as she moved towards him. “So I’m assuming...”

"You knew?” he asked her in disbelief. “Why didn't you tell me Y/N was a superhero? I just introduced myself to her as Mark Grayson and I'm almost positive she knows I'm Invincible."

"First off, it's not my secret tell," she answered with a shrug. "Second, you guys didn’t trade secrets or whatever?”

Mark shook his head in a panic, "No, but I'm guessing she also knows that I know her secret the same way I know she knows my secret." He rested his forehead on the locker door once again and groaned, "Ugh, I'm so into her, it isn't even funny. And this whole superhero thing just made it even more awkward."

Eve laughed, "Look, I'm not going to force her to tell you if she isn't up for it, but if you want, I can ask her to hang out with us later. Maybe — emphasis on maybe — my presence will make her comfortable enough to admit who she is."

"Okay, okay," he sighed, turning around to rest the back of his head. "My insides are dying."

"After the kaiju yesterday, be thankful you don't mean that in a literal sense."

---

Where in the hell is Eve?

Mark pulled out his phone for the third time in 10 minutes. Still no call or response from Eve to his text. He was getting evidently nervous; his palms were sweaty again and it felt like someone turned up the heat in Burger Mart. His left leg jerked up and down in anxiety as he stared at his phone, looking at the seconds on the clock icon tick by. If he were left alone with Y/N, he'd have no idea what to say. What does she like? Should I bring up the kaiju yesterday and praise Invincible? No, she'll just think I'm full of myself.

"Hey Mark."

He jolted and saw Y/N standing by the corner of the booth. "Hi!" he replied in that irritatingly high-pitched voice. Mark's heart began to race and the thoughts in his head ran wild. "Um... Have a seat. Sorry Eve isn't here yet, she actually hasn't answered my calls or my messages. Teenage girls, huh? What can you do?"

She crossed her brows again and chuckled, "That's fine, we can wait for Eve. But I think I'm more concerned about you."

"What do you mean?"

Y/N chuckled again, "You seem... nervous.”

He faked an obnoxiously loud laugh, “Me? Nervous?”

She watched him from across the table in silence, waiting for him to regain his composure.

When Mark couldn’t hear Y/N laughing with him, he finally shut up and shook his head. “Yeah, I am nervous, sorry,” he admitted, shutting his eyes tight.

She giggled, “Totally fine.”

Hearing her say those two words calmed his racing heartbeat. A smile crept on his face and she reciprocated, their eyes locking for a few seconds before both their phones buzzed.

“Oh, I just got a text from Eve,” Mark said.

“Me too.” She opened the message and began to read it out loud, “Sorry, can’t make it tonight. Something came up.”

“Have fun, you two,” he followed, his voice faltering. He placed his phone, screen down this time, back on the table and sighed, “Sorry, guess you’re stuck with me. That is, if you do want to stay and... hang out, and stuff.”

"Why wouldn’t I?” she replied, her warm smile easing Mark back into a relaxed state. “It’s nice to have a friend who...” she trailed off, “understands.”

“Understands what?” he asked.

“This thing people like us call life,” she answered. “You know, it took me a long time to acclimate here. I didn’t think I ever would, then I met friends who made this place feel like home. And home is a feeling I hadn’t felt in a really long time.”

Mark rested his elbows on the table and leaned in closer, “Well, I’m always here. You know, a-as a friend... or an acquaintance, even. I don’t, I don’t want to push it.”

Y/N giggled again, “You’re a funny man, Mark Grayson. This planet is lucky to have someone like you.” She reached out and held his hand, “And I’m even luckier to have you as a friend, or an acquaintance.”

He felt the heat rush to his face and he could swear his heart nearly jumped out of his chest. The afternoon flew by in a hurry as they engaged in lengthy conversations, fatty fast food, and childhood stories. While Mark was open to sharing every tiny detail — down to the color of the bleachers at the park where he played little league — Y/N kept hers pretty vague, leaving out descriptions of family members and even the places where these stories happened.

Mark’s phone buzzed again, but the vibrating pattern indicated it was a phone call. He turned the screen over and saw the unknown number; it was time to suit up.

“Shit, I’m sorry Y/N, but I need to go,” he said in a rush. “I have a... uh, an emergency.”

You couldn’t have thought of anything more specific?

“It’s cool. Um, don’t worry about it,” she said, shaking her head with her eyes glued to the vibrating phone.

Mark’s one leg was already out the booth before he decided to finally just go for it. Sitting back down with his now quiet phone in his hands, he took a deep breath.

“Y/N, I think you’re really cool. Can I maybe, like, call you sometime, or something?”

Her lips formed into smile that extended to her eyes, and it was enough for Mark to melt a little. “Of course. Yeah, sure,” she replied in excitement and typed down her number on his phone. She handed it back, “Now you know how to reach me if you’re getting your ass whooped again.”

His mouth fell open as his shaky hands grabbed his phone. “Wait—”

She smoothly slid out of the booth, “See you later, Invincible,” she winked, “Don’t get killed today.”

---

Luckily for Mark, no one got killed today. Maybe a few wounds here and there, but nothing painful enough that will land him in the GDA hospital. After spending an hour in the shower, he finally managed to lie down on his bed and rest his body. He sank into the mattress and closed his eyes, taking in the seconds of undisturbed peace that have become rare moments since he got his powers.

As he replayed the events of today’s fights in his head, his mind drifted off to the hours he spent with Y/N. He pulled out his phone and mustered the courage to press the dial button, and the repeating sound of the ringing was making his pulse race.

“Hello?”

“Oh good, you didn’t die today.”

Mark chuckled and sandwiched his hand between his head and the pillow. “It wasn’t that bad today, just took a few hits,” he explained. “So listen, Y/N, I was wondering, uh—”

She cut him off, “What are you doing right now?”

“What?”

“What are you doing right now?” she repeated.

“Um, nothing, just getting some rest” he sat up and looked around. “Why?”

“If you’re not too tired, do you maybe...”

Mark smiled, “Maybe...?”

“I don’t know, sneak out? My roof is pretty comfortable.”

Silently fist pumping, he fully stood up and nodded, “Text me the address.”

Just as quietly as he exited his room via the window, he softly landed on Y/N’s roof. Swiftly flying up and greeting him, she took the place next to him and crossed her legs.

“You’re right, your roof is pretty comfortable,” Mark said.

She chuckled at his remark then noticed a gash by his right temple. Her brows furrowed in worry, “You have a wound,” she said, making sure not to touch it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replied, softly holding her hand and placing it back down with his. “Totally fine.”

Those words brought her some sense of comfort as her eyes softened, causing her to unconsciously squeeze his hand. Mark’s eyes widened and he looked down at their tangled fingers, frozen for a moment.

“Is this... okay with you?” he asked.

She nodded. “Wanna lie down? Since my roof is so comfortable?” she asked with a smirk.

“Sure,” Mark chuckled, removing his hand from her’s and stretching his arm out as they lied down. Y/N rested her head on his shoulder, keeping her eyes up at the stars.

“Hey Mark?”

“Yeah?”

A moment of silence.

“Thank you for coming.”

He looked down at her as she met his eyes, “You’re welcome.”

The two shared a smile, and Mark took a deep breath as he prepared himself for the words that were about to come out of his mouth.

It’s now or never, Mark. Now or never.

“Watching you kick ass yesterday was... really a sight to see,” he began. “You’re powerful and strong, but more importantly, brave. And you’re so fucking beautiful and kind and smart and...” Mark trailed off, sighing, “I never thought I would be in this position — with you next to me in a very comfortable rooftop under the stars.”

“Mark...”

“And I really like you. Like, really, really like you.”

“Mark.”

“It’s okay if you don’t feel the same way, but I just wanted to let you know. It’s important that you know—”

“Mark,” she cut him off. “I like you too. A lot.”

He breathed a sigh of relief and covered his eyes with his free hand. “Oh thank god. Thank god!” he exclaimed.

Y/N shushed him, “You’re gonna wake up the neighborhood, Invincible.”

“Sorry,” he giggled quietly, “I got excited.”

She laughed and faced her body towards him. They locked eyes again, and Mark didn’t know if it was gravity or just the adrenaline that pushed him, but he finally leaned down and met her lips. Static ran through his body as he deepened the kiss, and he felt an excitement that was even more exhilarating than the first time he flew.

She pulled away and Mark ran his hand through her hair, resting his hand on her cheek. “How was that?” he asked.

She smiled gently and placed her hand over his, “Totally fine.”

#sorry this turned out way longer than expected #mark grayson x reader #invincible x reader #mark grayson #invincible fanfiction

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drabbles-mc · 3 years

Text

Courtesy Call

Angel Reyes x F!Reader

Request by Anon: A "meet cute" with either EZ or angel where u are walking out of the gas station where the swole boys confrontation is taking place

Warnings: language, smoking, guns, Angel being a smartass

Word Count: 1.6k

A/N: It’s been a hot minute since I wrote for this lovely, lanky man. This request has been sitting in my inbox for a while but I was really feeling it tonight. I tweaked it a little bit but I think it still flows really well. I hope you enjoy!! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X)

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There were very few good or fun things about your job at the gas station. It was nice that your boss wasn’t around much—the last thing you wanted to deal with on top of shitty customers was a supervisor breathing down your neck. And sometimes, in the midst of all the lulls and in between the rude people who rolled in and out throughout the day, you got to see some interesting things. For better or worse, travelers were never boring.

You heard the rumble of motorcycles pulling into the lot. The noise was deeper, had a little more muscle to it than the bikes that commonly rolled through your spot. You peeked out the window to look at the gas pumps, and you couldn’t help but to raise your eyebrows in surprise when you saw the two men that were getting off their bikes and unclipping their helmets. If only the bikers in your area looked like that.

One of them started walking towards the door and you immediately set your phone down on the counter, trying to look at the man who had entered without making it too obvious. He perused the aisles for a couple minutes, although he didn’t really seem like he was going to pick anything out to purchase.

He approached the counter and you flashed him a smile, your customer service voice immediately kicking in, “What can I get for you?”

“Just a couple packs of smokes, please,” he pointed to the ones he wanted.

You nodded, “You got it,” you grabbed two packs and set them on the counter, but as he reached for them you didn’t remove your hand. He looked at you, confusion apparent on his face. You chuckled, “ID?”

He laughed, shaking his head, “Really?”

You nodded, “Really.”

“Pfft,” he scoffed but there was still a smile on his face as he took his ID out of his wallet and handed it over to you.

You looked over it, nodded, and smiled as you handed it back, “Thank you, Angel.”

His smile shifted into a smirk of sorts, “You’re welcome, querida.” He didn’t take his eyes off of you as you finished ringing him out. He flashed you a wink as he swiped the packs of cigarettes off the counter, “Have a nice day.”

You leaned forward onto the counter, watching him as he walked out, “You too.”

Once he was back outside you sat back down onto your chair, and even though you knew that you shouldn’t, that it was none of your business, you looked out the window to watch him talk with the other man that he had pulled in with. You watched as Angel placed a cigarette between his lips and you knew that you shouldn’t have found it as attractive as you did, but oh well.

Your quickly spiraling train of thought was derailed as you heard another set of motorcycles pull into the lot. You couldn’t stop yourself from sighing and rolling your eyes. The Swole Boys might’ve been local but it didn’t make you like or respect them. And it certainly never made them treat you any better, either.

You looked out the window and watched as they walked up to Angel and the other man, and you instantly became interested in how it was going to play out. You couldn’t hear all of what was being said at first, but you were certain that the men who had just rolled in weren’t being courteous, or smart.

The man that Angel had shown up with got off of his bike, and you found yourself walking out from behind the counter and going towards the door. You weren’t planning on going out there and putting yourself in the middle of it, but you wanted a better idea of what was going on. It was hard to hear from behind the counter.

You heard Angel’s voice, “Next time we’ll call the Slow Boys.”

Having the protection of the glass door was a godsend, because you weren’t able to stop the laugh that escaped you. No one ever talked to them that way, and you were thrilled that someone was stepping up to the plate and finally saying something.

The man next to Angel spoke up with a smirk tugging at his lips, “Sorry, he’s just picking up on the lack of cognitive energy comin’ our way.”

You found yourself covering your mouth with your hands as you laughed. Angel and his counterpart were clearly very pleased with themselves, both of them standing with a lot of confidence despite the mounting annoyance of the other bikers in front of them.

The Swole Boys started stepping closer and you saw Angel lean and grab something from his bag. Your eyes grew wide when you saw that he had a gun in his hand. It wasn’t raised, but you still didn’t know where this was going, if you were supposed to step in and say something. You didn’t get paid nearly enough to get shot on the job trying to protect a few douchebag gym-bros, but you didn’t want to say that you didn’t do anything. You saw that the gun was still at his side, so you stayed put and listened to the commentary he was providing. You had to admit it was amusing.

“Shut the fuck up!” Angel snapped and raised the gun, going back and forth pointing it at each of them.

Now the tension was a little too much for you to be completely comfortable with. You ahd no idea what you were going to do, but you couldn’t stand inside anymore. Silently, you slipped out the front door and stood on the sidewalk right in front of it, letting the situation play out a little more. Both Angel and the man with him spotted you, their eyes flicking over to you for a moment even though they didn’t say anything to you.

“You guys are an embarrassment,” Angel shook his head, gun still aimed at the men in front of him, “Now go climb on your homocycles and get the fuck out of here.”

You pressed your lips together, trying not to let your shock be too present. You knew that it was still written all over your face, though. And the surprise only intensified when they actually backed off and went back to their bikes. They obviously wouldn’t have been able to go toe-to-toe with Angel and his friend, but on a different day they probably would have been stupid enough to try.

It wasn’t until the guys pulled away that Angel tucked his gun back into his bag and turned to look at you. the tough demeanor he’d just had completely fell away as he stepped a little closer to you.

“Sorry ‘bout all that,” he shook his head slightly.

You chuckled, “It’s fine. Just came out to make sure I wasn’t going to have to add hose blood out of parking lot to my to-do list.”

He laughed, “I would’ve at least stuck around to help with that.”

“No he wouldn’t have,” his friend said with a smile that would make anyone’s knees buckle.

“Man, shut up,” Angel shook his head with a laugh, “Don’t mind my brother—he was dropped on his head a couple times as a child.”

“By you?” you asked with a smile.

He held a finger up to his lips, “We don’t talk about it.”

You looked back and forth between them, crossing your arms over your chest, “You guys just roll into town to stir up trouble, or what?”

Angel shook his head, “Just passing through.”

“Sorry for the scene,” his brother said.

You shrugged, “All good. Not like we’ve got any customers to scare away.”

Angel laughed, “Right, right.”

“You guys should ride through more often,” you nodded towards the road, “Those guys don’t get told to shut the fuck up often enough.”

“We’ll keep that in mind,” Angel smiled as he hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans, “try to swing by and keep ‘em in line.”

You didn’t comment on it, but you could see Angel’s brother smiling and shaking his head as he watched the two of you interact. Clearly Angel was no stranger to chatting up girls that they came across in their travels. Still, this was the most interesting thing that’d happened to you since you started working at the shitty little gas station so long ago. Plus there was something about the look in Angel’s eyes that made you believe that he was an adventure that you’d be up for.

“And they say chivalry is dead,” you smiled.

Angel chuckled as he took his phone out of his kutte and handed it over to you, “If you give me your number, I can give you a, uh, a little courtesy call next time I’m around.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you took his phone. For a moment you contemplated putting in a fake number, but going against whatever little alarm bells were going off in the back of your mind, you gave him your real one before handing the phone back over to him.

“Looking forward to it.”

“Let’s go, Angel,” his brother called from his bike with a laugh.

“Looks like you gotta go,” you nodded in the direction of their bikes.

“I’ll see you ‘round, querida,” he shot you a wink before turning to walk away.

“Try not to shoot anyone, boys,” you called after them with a laugh.

Angel smiled over at you as he clipped on his helmet, “No promises.”

#mayans mc #mayansmc #mayans fx #mayans mc imagine #angel reyes #angel reyes x reader #angel reyes x you #angel reyes imagine #angel reyes fanfic #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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jishyucks · 3 years

Text

The L Word ‣ hjs

‣ genre: angst with a fluffy ending, arranged marriage, sort of modern royalty (rich kid!au), female reader

‣ wc: 2.1k

‣ summary: “Tell me, Han. Has she ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”; in which Jisung's afraid that Y/N's going to leave him in rising of rumors but learns he shouldn't judge a situation from the words of others

‣ warnings?: The Hwang 'sibs' are mean in this (just a bit), lowkey rushed, jisung runs off because of overthinking

Looking at the ballroom’s appearance, Jisung feels as though he shouldn’t even be there in the first place. Like some puzzle piece placed in the wrong box. The people attending the party lived lavish lifestyles, knowing the difference between the different forks placed at the tables. Etiquette was more important to them than the basics a middle-class person would even care about.

Though Jisung had good ideas of such subjects, it wasn't forced onto him like those around him. The only reason why he was able to attend the party was because of a marriage arrangement your father and his father had made as some kind of sick ‘contract’ regarding business. Though he wasn’t complaining, feelings for you developed through the years of knowing you since childhood, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about a handful of things.

For one, you guys were engaged through the arrangement. It’s been three years since the announcement, and even if Jisung believed you were fine with it, even if you ensured to Jisung that you were happy with the engagement, intrusive thoughts started keeping him up at night.

He knew you. You hated speaking out your feelings, whether it led to consequences or not. What if you actually weren’t fine with it? What if you were somehow threatened by your father and the contract to actually speak out about the engagement? He didn’t want you to feel forced to marry him.

Then there was his family’s reputation. His family was deemed drastically poorer than yours by the other associated families and businesses. He was afraid of tainting your family’s reputation or seeming like one of those leeches found at the bottom of murky ponds. Though it was an arranged marriage, Jisung had genuine feelings for you. It was his father that was in it for the money and Jisung was nothing like his father.

“Hey, scrounger!” Jisung turned to find Hyunjin and his sister Yeji approaching him from the opposite corner of the room. They both were dressed in clothes that were probably a lot more expensive than his own, his clothes being hand-me-downs from his father.

“Fancy seeing you here,” Yeji smirked, “You don’t even have business here.” She shifted her weight from one leg to the other, eyeing down the boy.

Jisung didn’t cower under their gaze, instead of straightening his back, “I’m here because I was invited. My father was invited as well.” Don’t show fear, he told himself, That’s what they want.

“Ahh~,” Hyunjin chuckled, “Good way to disguise 'because of Y/N.' Tell me, Han. Has Y/N ever explicitly told you that she loved you?”

Yeji butted in, laughing, “I think love is too strong of a word… how ‘bout like? Has she ever told you that she liked you? Cause rumor has it she’s planning on breaking your engagement.”

Jisung gulped, “S-she has… and gossip is bullshit.” He lied. When the arrangement was created, there was some kind of unspoken assumption that you both liked each other. As a result of this, no confessions were made from you both. Sure it was stupid, but in Jisung’s eyes, actions spoke louder than words, and just by how he treated you and you treated him, you both cared very much for each other. Of course, other people never paid attention to actions and relied on direct statements.

“We don’t gossip, Han,” Hyunjin scoffs, “Who would pass up the opportunity to marry Bang Chan when he’s the son of the top businessman in all of Korea?”

“What do you mean?” Jisung’s heart skipped a beat, eyed widening slightly at the mention of Bang Chan’s name.

“His father apparently wanted to create a deal with her father that was a lot better than his deal with yours,” Hyunjin explained, “Isn’t your engagement part of that poorer deal?”

Jisung chose not to reply, biting his tongue. Instead, he shoots Hyunjin a narrowed glare, not up for defending himself or arguing. With the lack of response from their target, the siblings simply rolled their eyes and walked away, taking a seat at their designated table.

When the attention was diverted away from him, Jisung couldn’t help but let his shoulders fall. He feels his heart beating quicker than at rest, thoughts running through his mind like crazy. You wouldn’t leave him just like that right? You wouldn’t.

Then his mind wanders back to Hyunjin and Yeji’s question. Yes, he did think that actions were undoubtedly stronger than words, but now that a spotlight was shone on the hidden yet obvious fact that you both hadn’t said anything about each others’ feelings, he couldn’t help but believe that you could possibly be leaving him. But then again, he has never said anything to you and his feelings existed.

He felt the sudden urge to look for you, who had been busy accompanying your father with the guests. Maybe he will actually confess how he truly felt, just in case you were actually thinking about breaking the engagement. Maybe he could save it somehow, just in case your father was willing to make the deal with Mr. Bang.

Chewing the bottom of his lip, he scanned the room, looking for the lavender dress you were wearing. But with the clumps of people, his line of sight was constantly stopped abruptly.

“Excuse me,” he mumbled politely, making his way through the crowd, “Excuse me.” He ignored the looks some people gave him, still slithering his way between the socializing people. Though his hair was parted in a way that exposed part of his forehead, he felt the need to hide under his bangs, keeping his head low as he did.

The familiar sound of your father’s laugh drove Jisung to stop and look around his area. If he was close, you’d be close. Scanning his surroundings completely, he finally spots your father, with you standing close beside him. He feels a smile rise on his lips as he begins to make his way towards you both, heartbeat racing just as his thoughts were.

Opening his mouth to call out for you, he quickly stops himself when he realizes that you and your father were holding a conversation with Bang Chan and his own father. His feet abruptly stop, allowing him to overhear the exchange of banter.

“Well, it was a pleasure having this conversation with you,” Mr. Bang chuckled, “I will see you on Monday for the papers?” He held a hand out for a handshake, a smile filled with pride appearing on his lips.

Your father nodded, “Likewise. I’m looking forward to it.” He completes the handshake, which then queues for Chan to lean in for a hug.

Shit, Jisung gulps, feeling his heart drop to his stomach, What the hell just happened?

You take a step forward and hug Chan back for a brief second before pulling back, “I hope you enjoy the rest of your time here, Chan.”

Chan’s dimples appeared as he smiled genuinely, “Thank you, Y/N.”

Jisung was frozen on the spot, unsure whether or not he should say anything. The notes that he had mentally jotted down in his head were suddenly ripped into pieces and he was practically speechless.

Obliviously, you turn to follow your father, who was already ready to move on to another conversation. Mid-turn, the boy dressed in a striped, navy suit had caught your attention, giving him a double-take, “Oh! Jisung!” The corners of your mouth rise higher, eyes lighting up at the sight of the familiar boy. A wave of comfort washed over you. It was refreshing to see him after interacting with so many strangers and acquaintances.

When you go to approach him, Jisung panics and begins to back into the people behind him. It was then you noticed the look of distraught on his face, causing you to speed up. At this, he turns and runs, causing commotion around him as dodges those who got in his way.

“Jisung!” You called out, turning the heads of those people around you. The music had drowned your voice out from those further away from you, “Jisung!?” You begin making your way through the crowd of people, going as fast as you could in heels so that you wouldn’t lose Jisung. A million assumptions were running through your head, worry lining each and every one of them.

Swinging the door open, Jisung finds himself stumbling out into the empty corridor of the hotel. With the choice of left and right, Jisung stops and impulsively runs in one direction, not minding where he would end up if kept running.

So you were going to break the engagement… without warning? How were you going to break the news to him? How was he supposed to react once you told him about it all? Happy? Sad? Excited?

You finally reached the door of the ballroom, slipping out rather roughly into the corridor. Your head whips left and right, seeing Jisung’s trailing feet to the right of the hallway, turning the corner. You let out a heavy breath before kicking off your heels, booking it in that direction.

Your mind wanders to why Jisung was running. What did he hear? Was he okay? Could it be what other people were saying again? But Jisung was never usually one to let words get to him.

Jisung lets himself rest once he gets to a secluded room. Judging by its content, he realized that he managed to slip into the coatroom, but he didn’t care. He needed time alone to think. He just needed to process this entire situation.

“Jisung?” He hears you call out. Jisung sinks down at the corner of the room, resting his head against the wall. He stays quiet, resting his forehead against his knees.

The door to the coat room opens, revealing your disheveled figure, “Jisung…” You pause and try to catch your breath, “There… there you are.”

Jisung doesn’t lift his head, afraid that if he did face you, he would burst into tears. He could sense you approaching him, though, settling down beside him. He could feel your dress up against him. Soon he feels your hand take his, holding it tightly.

“What’s wrong?”

When Jisung doesn’t answer, you don’t say anything to push out an explanation. You let the question simmer, resting your head against his shoulder.

At this point, Jisung’s mind was projecting none of his thoughts but static. He didn’t know where to start and what to bring up. How was he supposed to confront you about the engagement?

“I’m happy for you two,” Jisung blurted out quietly, avoiding eye contact, “I really am.” Your ears perked up, confused at what Jisung was going on about.

“I think people will like you both together more than us,” Jisung continued, “Just know that I lo–“

You interrupt him, turning to completely face him, “Jisung, what are you talking about?” You turned your body towards him, completely facing the cowered boy. Though your body language was practically begging for eye contact, Jisung still avoided it, playing with his rings to keep him from losing control over his emotions.

Building up his confidence, Jisung let himself look at you before whispering, “Y/N?” He sniffled quietly.

“Yeah, Sung?”

Jisung gulped and asked, “Do you like me?”

You’re taken aback by the question, not expecting it out of all the questions Jisung could have asked. Is this why he was crying?

“Of course I do, Jisung, what makes you thin–“

“I mean genuinely like me. Do you have feelings for me?” Words were spewing out of his mouth before he could even process what he was saying. He could feel his emotions taking control of himself, which often is never a good thing.

“Jisung, I love you, okay? Why do you think otherwise?” The beat of your heart sped up with worry. Your eyebrows knitted together in concern as Jisung’s lips quivered slightly.

“The Hwang's told me you were planning on breaking our engagement because Bang Chan’s father offered a better deal than my father,” he explained quietly. He felt as though that if he spoke any louder, he would break out into tears, “I told them I didn’t believe them… t-then they asked me if you’ve ever told me if you did have feelings for me. I just didn’t know what to think when… when I saw your father accept Mr. Bang’s deal. I was afraid you were actually going to leave me.”

You gently slapped his shoulder in shock, “Han Jisung, are you serious?” Jisung responded wordlessly, though a puzzled look replaced his previous emotion.

“My father approached me beforehand about it. He wanted to break our engagement because of the deal, telling me that it was no longer necessary,” you say, “But I told him I wanted to marry you because I love you, Sung. And if he did threaten to forcibly break our engagement, I would’ve fought for us.”

Jisung wanted to laugh at himself at how much he had overreacted. Overthinking was a bitch and this situation was real-life proof, “Y/N?”

“Yeah, Sung?”

“I would fight for us too.”

249 notes · View notes

showrunnerihardlyknowher · 3 years

Note

26 for the prompts? perhaps w the cat n mouse lads :3 (also look danny i did it i sent a prompt are u proud)

I...actually don't remember what the prompt was for this one, but I'm 87% sure it was "I'm not that scary, am I?"

So fine since y'all keep asking for 'em, here's more of the cat and mouse bois. Shoutout to @gabbydafurry and an anon for finally giving them names.

“C’mon.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“I said no.”

“I’ll make pollo asado for dinner, we can eat it together while we watch!”

Aaron sighed and rubbed his hands against his forehead, trying to ease the dull throb that had yet to wane over the past two days. His headache certainly wasn’t being helped by the constant badgering of his...roommate, for a lack of better words (as well as being a title so eagerly self bestowed by the cat in question) but much like many of their other interactions, his resolve was starting to wear thin. Usually, he was able to hold his ground for at least a week until he was bribed into giving the other some type of social interaction with the promise of his favorite foods. Today, however, the poor mouse just wanted a moment’s peace free from knocking on the walls or calling through the cracks until he answered, and if that meant watching some stupid movie then fine.

Plus, Lucas did know how to make some incredible Mexican food.

“...fine,” Aaron conceded after a pause, the pressure behind his eyes giving him a sharp pang before fading to its usual ache, almost like his own body was projecting how horrible of an idea this was.

As soon as the mouse slipped out from behind the curio, he came face to face with the massive grin of the cat mere inches away from the opening. Seeing the grin only split wider when he was fully in view of the other normally would have instinctively sent a shiver up his spine, it was kind of difficult to be intimidated seeing how Lucas had strangely contorted his body to lay on the floor between the curio and the bookcase. Most cats seemed to be fairly flexible, so it probably wasn’t too uncomfortable for him to be so bent and curled up, but he definitely lost some of that hunter’s prowess with his back twisted sideways and one leg leaning against the shelving.

In a flash, Lucas had managed to untangle his strange positioning to instead be crouched on his knees, now looming over Aaron in a way he wasn’t sure he would ever get used to. He flinched back when his hand started to reach out towards him, fully intending to scoop him up to dizzying heights without a second thought, but the appendage stopped just short of touching him at all. Instead, he dropped his hand palm side up and waited, smiling all the while. At least he was getting better at remembering Aaron’s explicit request to not be grabbed without permission, though he did always apologize with a sheepish look and some little treat whenever he forgot.

Once Aaron climbed onto the awaiting hand that radiated a delightfully intense warmth into his already aching muscles, Lucas was already jumping up a chattering a mile a minute about how much the mouse was going to love the movie he picked out, how dinner would be ready soon, how he wasn’t expecting him to actually agree to watch a scary movie with him since he never seemed like the type who would be into that sort of thing but--

“It’s a scary movie?” Aaron interrupted, the noise finally registering beyond the headache. Truthfully, he tuned a lot of what the other said out for almost every conversation, not that it ever seemed to make a difference. Yeah, sorry, I’m a bit of a chatterbox, he admitted once, but it’s less weird talking to someone who doesn’t respond than to talk to yourself, right?

Debatable.

Lucas tilted his head and snorted. “Uh, yeah? That was one of the first things I told you about. You know that one actress who’s in almost every one of those Christmas movies we watch, who’s always the jealous best friend?” Aaron has no idea who he was referring to given that he never absorbed anything from those stupid romance movies he was boarderline forced to watch, but nodded anyways, “Right, this is supposed to be her big break out role, or something. It’s the first thing she’s doing as a lead actress, and you know, good for her! I’m glad she’s getting out of that typecast she’s been in forever. Horror probably wouldn’t be my first choice for her, but I guess since she has those singing vocals it could carry over to being a scream queen. Kind of like when--”

And Aaron was out of the conversation again.

Lucas continued to drone on about the actress’s entire film career, or at least that’s what the mouse was assuming he was doing when he occasionally zoned back in to pick up a stray word here and there. The headache he had been staving off to the best of his ability was starting to come back with twice as much force as it often did in the later days. He probably could have just asked the other for some aspirin, maybe even some cold medicine as that was no doubt what this bout of illness was turning into, but asking the cat for anything was always out of the question. Of course, Lucas tried to sway him numerous times into thinking it most certainly was not and that he could always ask for whatever he needed, never to his avail. Aaron was indeed willing to prolong his suffering if it meant not having to stomach the dreadful embarrassment that would come to being indebted to the feline, no matter how insignificant.

Unfortunately, he was only setting himself up for failure in thinking this “agreement” would be providing him any sort of relief. His headache was treading dangerously close into becoming a full fledged migraine and the flashes of light and screams from the television would not be doing him any favors. His only saving grace was that, after he had been settled on the couch and Lucas scampered off to get the dinner he promised, the cat turned off every other light possible to, as he put it, really get them in the spooky mood!

The smell of the food was delicious and nauseating. His stomach both wanted and revolted at the idea of anything filling it, which would only serve to worsen his headache no doubt. Damn it all, he wanted to throttle both himself and this illness, the first for agreeing to watch this stupid movie when he was already feeling under the weather, the second for preventing him from getting his half of the deal. These movie-dinner dates deals were the only reason Aaron continued to stick around, even if he thought the torment of being forced to watch awful romcoms in exchange for a hot, homemade meal was a little unfair. No, that wasn’t entirely true, Lucas was a freaking culinary genius as far as the mouse was aware. It was a wonder why he wasn’t majoring in a cooking field.

“I’m not hungry right now,” Aaron lied when Lucas had asked why he wasn’t eating. “I’ll try some later.”

The cat looked at him strangely before shrugging. “Alright, just let me know. If you don’t like it, I can always make you something else.” There he goes again, offering things he knows the other can’t accept. At least he could let it slide this time as he had no appetite to think of any other dish.

Lucas finished his own meal in silence, completely fixed on the television as the opening scene carried on, introducing the canine main character that Aaron did, in fact, vaguely recognize. This was fine, he figured, the dark apartment coupled with a painfully slow movie, a warm body moving to curl up behind him as it so often did during these deals, he could probably get a few moments of real rest in before the credits rolled. As much as he loathed to admit it, the cat was actually rather...comfortable to be forcefully cuddled by. He wasn’t like other movie goers that needed to make a comment on every character’s decision, steady breathing and the occasional purr helping the mouse slowly relax.

That relaxation was cut short as soon as the romcom actress tore her tiny avian neighbor to shreds by the end of the first act.

Aaron had hardly been paying attention to the storyline up until this point, something to do with the girl being bitten and experiencing insatiable hunger lately. The sudden carnage of the otherwise trusting little prey creature made both of them flinch in surprise, though Lucas was quick to laugh it off. From then on the mouse’s unwavering attention was glued to the screen, but not by his choice. A chill ran through him each time she claimed another unsuspecting victim, always a prey animal, and ripped them apart with her teeth and nails like a starving animal. The way the tiny’s incredibly realistic viscera was slurped into her bloody mouth made him queasy, all too easily imagining himself in their shoes.

Eventually, her hunger became too strong and she began attacking fellow predator species as well. Ripping into throats and soft bellies was far messier than snacking on a tiny creature in three bites, making her feast all the more gory. While the violence still unsettled him, it was a touch more bearable now that he couldn’t picture his own body being mangled between the teeth of a predator he thought he could trust. Speaking of…

The mouse gulped and risked a glance behind him at the other who had hardly moved, save for a few jolts and snickers whenever a particularly good jump scare managed to startle him. It didn’t go unnoticed that every time Aaron had physically reacted to a sudden screech or attack, the cat would curl just a little bit tighter around him, hiding a laugh behind a rumbling purr. He wanted to believe this was meant to be an act of comfort and not something equally as nefarious as the canine plotting her next kill. Regardless, Lucas was equally transfixed on the movie, except he seemed to be enjoying every minute of the horror aspect. His tail would flick in interest during the high tension scenes, even more so when a chase sequence was underway. It made sense, considering that was his favorite game to make Aaron play.

Whatever the case may be, the mouse couldn’t help but be unnerved tenfold that the other had the audacity to enjoy a fictional movie he was interested in seeing. The last thing the mouse wanted was for Lucas to get any more ideas when it came to chasing him around the apartment, much less awaken any sort of primitive instinct to maim his prize after it had been captured. To this day, it remains a deep seated fear in the back of his mind that every time the cat cupped his hands over him, his teeth would be quick to follow. Natural instincts were hard to shake for a reason when it came to prey animals such as himself, he could only hope the same wasn’t true for predators.

His imagination was running rampant, enough so that he completely missed how the movie ended. Something about a cure, something about being put down, whatever. The only thing on his mind was the morbidly hilarious thought that if Lucas were to go feral like the canine, would he eat him raw or would he cook him up in another fantastic dish?

Aaron jumped when Lucas moved to sit up behind him, only now registering the credits scrolling across the screen. He stretched a bit, the quickly fading warmth that had been surrounding the mouse making him realize just how tight the other must have been snuggled around him. How did he not notice?

“Wow,” Lucas said, pursing his lips. “That...was one of the worst movies I have ever seen in my life.”

That wasn’t the reaction Aaron had been expecting him to have, but it was certainly better than to hear him go on about how it was a brilliant masterpiece. He got up to flick the lights back on, still laughing as he recounted each poorly written scene and cheesy effects. “I mean, oh my god, right? The mail man saved everyone? Seriously? I actually feel bad for making you watch that, you totally have dibs on the next movie night.”

He turned around to look at the mouse who was still huddled tight on the couch, wide eyes glued to the screen even if it was just names moving along with ominous background music. Lucas gave him another quizzical look, smirking.

“C’mon, even you have to admit those tinies had zero survival instincts. Like, who goes up to a rabid dog and asks for directions? I get suspending my disbelief and all, but they could have made it just a pinch realistic. This is so going to tank her acting career…” The cat shook his head and moved closer to the couch so that he stood right in front of the television, finally drawing the other’s attention to himself. “Hey, you hungry now?”

Oh, absolutely fucking not. An hour and a half of being tensed up gave no relief to his aching muscles and now that the lights were back on, so was his pounding headache. His stomach rolled, the nausea a mix of dizziness and disgust from the special effects. He didn’t even want to think about food, he didn’t want to be out in the open anymore, and he most certainly did not want to spend another minute in the cat’s company right now.

“S-sure…” Aaron finally squeaked out. He just needed Lucas out of the room, distracted somewhere so he could make a break for it. In some instances, he would have just darted off whether the cat saw him or not, but that always resulted in a game of chase that had a 50/50 success rate, the other loving it anyways. All he wanted was some peace and quiet to rest up and heal and not think about how easy it would be for the other to bite off his head whenever he felt like it.

Lucas stood there for a minute, studying him, and just when Aaron genuinely feared he was going to pounce, he flashed an innocent smile. “Cool, just give me a couple minutes to get it heated up.” And with that, he disappeared into the kitchen.

Aaron decided to be bold and waste a few precious seconds of his head start to collect himself. Deep down, he knew he was being ridiculous. Lucas had been nothing but kind to him. Aloof, but still kind all the same. But as a prey animal that spent the better part of his life living in walls and stealing to survive, trust was a risk he simply couldn’t take. There was hardly any benefit to keeping up this con if the end goal was simply to eat him. For all he knew, though, Lucas was nothing more than a merciless sociopath that was willing to milk every ounce of fear he could before chowing down. A sociopath obsessed with romantic comedies and wore an apron when he cooked and had begged Aaron for two months straight to tell him when his birthday was so that he could make him a miniature cake.

...okay, so maybe Lucas wasn’t a sociopath, but that didn’t mean he was trustworthy. Evolution gave him sharpened fangs and agile reflexes for a reason and the mouse was not about to find out what it was like to be on the receiving end of those one day.

With his head as clear as it was going to be for the time being, sans the dull throb behind his eyes, the mouse finally pushed himself up to make his way over to the couch arm. Slowly, as to not overwork his stiff joints, he climbed his way down to the floor and skittered under the couch for a little extra protection. Strangely, he noticed that he didn’t hear any noises coming from the kitchen just up ahead and when he stopped by the doorway, he couldn’t see anyone either. Losing track of the massive cat should not be possible, especially considering this was a one bedroom apartment and there was literally nowhere else for the feline to go without coming back through the entryway. Aaron should have taken it as a blessing, but of course he couldn’t leave well enough alone.

He proceeded to be daring and come out from under the couch completely to peek into the kitchen, confirming it was empty. Again, that shouldn’t even be possible for Lucas to slip out without having to directly pass the living room to go somewhere else. Unless he had, which would mean Aaron missed him somehow. He had been in quite a deep thought process on the couch...but he could have sworn he was only collecting himself for a minute!

The answer became glaringly obvious when the mouse took a few hesitant steps back and turned to retreat under the safety of the couch, only to come face to face with Lucas. He damn near jumped out of his skin, slamming his back against the wall in an effort to gain another inch of distance between himself and the face taking up his entire view. Really, this was nothing too out of the ordinary for the cat, he loved to sneak up and pounce whenever the opportunity presented itself and Aaron wasn’t too obviously close to heart failure. What made his heart stutter, however, was the fact that Lucas didn’t look like...well, Lucas. There was no smile, no warm eyes, no words being talked a mile a minute about nothing.

No, there was just a frowning cat with his ears pinned back and pupils slit, stalking closer with a terrifying rumble in his throat.

Instinct overtook him as soon as he saw the other’s lip twitch, trying to dart under the couch for safety and having his path immediately blocked by a hand being slammed down, claw out. Aaron couldn’t even yelp, the bile in his throat threatening to turn into vomit if he idled around too long. So, he didn’t. Instead, he turned on his heel and scampered in the opposite direction with the cat hot on his trail. He very nearly dodged a swipe, Lucas hissing that his blow didn’t land while Aaron only tried to speed up his sprinting. They circled maybe half of the living room, the mouse weaving under furniture while the cat knocked into them in an effort to jarr his prey into taking a misstep.

It worked, unfortunately, when Aaron took a sharp turn at the bookshelf and caused Lucas to clip it with his shoulder. The small bump did nothing to deter the cat on his hunt, but the two books that came tumbling down were enough to make the smaller skid and trip to avoid being squashed under the novels. He ended up twisting his ankle awkwardly, stumbling flat on his face while the momentum of his running made him roll twice until he landed on his back. Despite being winded and the additional pain in his leg, he knew there was no time to waste, trying to pull himself. It was too late, though. The cat was already on top of him, hand coming down to pin him under his palm while only his head poked free from between his fingers.

That cold, terrifying face came nearer, eyes tunnel visioned on its prize. Oh God, Aaron would give anything to have the other Lucas back right now. He’d watch a thousand sappy movies, do a date night for every meal, actually move into his bedroom like the cat had suggested he do a dozen times. He wanted...fuck, he wanted his friend back. What he thought was his friend, anyways. Not this killer, not this predator who was baring his teeth and was now mere inches away from biting off his face and--

The growling above him broke off into a snort shortly before turning into a full blown laugh. Aaron wasn’t sure when he had closed his eyes in preparation for his certain death, but when he dared to open them and blinked away the budding tears, he saw that smile he had been wishing for again. Kind and warm, just like eyes, and it was like Lucas had never even taken the form of a starving hunter in his life. Like he hadn’t been moments away from devouring his beloved roommate.

“Oh, come on,” he howled with laughter, “You can’t be serious! That movie actually scared you? I mean, I thought you looked a little freaked out by it, but wow!”

The movie...so this...this wasn’t real. Lucas was just pretending, just playing a prank on him. He thought that the movie had simply wound him up and made him jumpier than usual, no different than watching a zombie flick and popping out from behind a bush at your friend later on.

Except it was different. It was different in the fact that zombies aren't real, but predators are. Predators didn’t need an excuse to go feral and maim and consume their tiny cohabitants, they simply could by the laws of nature. And yes, it may be illegal and have several laws in place to protect prey species, but if no body was ever left behind, who could say if foul play was involved? That was the whole plot point in the otherwise dull movie they sat through together, the reason why the woman was able to avoid suspicion of her sickness by feeding on tinies that could only be reported missing at most.

Lucas’s laughter had tapered off, still clearly enjoying himself. “Alright, note to self, no more horror movies.” Finally, he released Aaron from under his hand to sit back on his haunches. “Man, I really didn’t think you would scare that easily, especially from a B-movie like that. Anyways, are you actually ready to eat now? I put your stuff in the oven so it would reheat better, but it should be done by now….Ronnie?”

Aaron hadn’t moved an inch since he was originally pinned, not even after the hand had been lifted off of him. He just stared up blankly at the cat, trembling and wide eyed, unable to do anything as the rapid succession of events sunk in. The cat’s humor died down a little, smile hesitating.

“Hey, look, I’m sorry. I just couldn’t resist, you know?” He shrugged a little sheepishly. “You didn’t even notice when I came back so I thought...I don’t know, it was funnier in my head. I almost broke character and started laughing before you ran!” With still no verbal response, Lucas reached out a hand. “Aaron? You good? Come on, I’m not that scary, am I?”

The reaction he got probably wasn’t what he was hoping for with Aaron suddenly scrambling to push himself away from the outstretched hand that might trap and tear apart his limbs. He gave a sharp squeak, managing to find his footing only to come crashing down as soon as he took the first step, his ankle noticeably swollen by this point. His cry of pain was muffled into a desperate grunt, trying so hard to drag himself away as a last ditch effort to avoid the same fate as the bird and the squirrel and the mole in the movie.

Lucas gasped. “Oh, Ronnie, your leg!” Both hands were reaching for the mouse now, aiming to cup around him and scoop him up before they surely put him out of his misery. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry! I didn’t...oh my God, I hurt you.”

Yes and no. In truth, Aaron had been the one to hurt himself by making his body move in ways it physically shouldn’t. But that didn’t change the fact that Lucas had shown his true colors. Perhaps in hindsight, that wasn’t a fair assessment, as he really did think he was playing a harmless little joke on a skittish friend. The pain came from knowing that the cat could turn feral, though, no matter how genuine he was being. There was still clearly an instinct within him, one that knew how to hunt and bare his teeth and hiss, one that knew deep down where they both ranked on the food chain. It hurt in knowing everything he thought about his friend, everything that kept him from really letting down his walls like the other so desperately wanted, was right. Cats and mice were not friends.

“Get away from me!” Aaron shrieked when the hands came too close. Though they withdrew quickly, he didn’t bother to watch if they would move again as he forced himself up to stumble back to his nook behind the bookshelf.

“Aaron, wait!” It was a fruitless request and Lucas knew it as he didn’t even try to stop the mouse from disappearing behind the furniture back into the walls. It would only make matters so much worse. “Aaron, please, you’re hurt, just...at least let me help you. Please. I...I’m so sorry! It was an accident, I promise!”

The cat shuffled closer, leaning down in hopes that the other could at least hear his pleas better, could hear how sincere he was trying to be. “I would never hurt you, Aaron. You’re one of my best friends. Look, it was a stupid prank and I’m an asshole and I’ll never do it again, just please come out. Just let me know if you’re alright?”

It didn’t matter how hard or for how long he tried, Aaron was long gone within the walls.

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theresnosinlondon · 3 years

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Don’t Do It For Me - h.s. (part 3)

The one where Harry is a friend in need and - can they still be called complications? (1.5k)

I don't even know anymore - is this a short story now? A series of one-shots? All I know is that there will be a part 4.

Part 2

So, you thought you could be back in London and not tell me?

Men can be quite simple creatures sometimes, they really can. I had mostly taken a break from my phone whilst I was away. I favoured taking a camera out and about and kept my phone safe and hidden in my bag. I have gotten notifications of reactions or replies to my Instagram stories but ignored all of them in favour of absorbing the benefits of being away from London, the UK and work.

I had stepped foot back in Heathrow only five hours prior to the text - he really did have eyes everywhere. How he did it was beyond me. A man with a schedule that was so tight it almost overlapped. He has expressed before how the busier he was, the more productive he felt which, was all good and well, until the bags under his eyes were so heavy and sunken that he looked one meeting away from dropping.

I could sympathise - the idea of work being an escape from your life-questioning thoughts is quite appealing when you have a career that resembles your dreams as closely as possible. Throwing myself into a project that gives me freedom of creativity, interactions with interesting characters and puts me behind a camera has a therapeutic effect on my mind. The same must happen for him.

As much of a golden boy and all-around loved guy he was, he certainly had his fatal flaws, one of which was his lack of ability in the prioritising area. He absolutely adores his family and friends, but present the fella with an interesting project and he gets tunnel vision and that is all he can think about. He doesn't just hide behind his job - he becomes his job.

I wasn't aware I had to go through passport control with you too, H. Heathrow was a traumatic enough experience for my little brain. But yeah! Back on British soil!

His call came pretty soon after my text was read - one greeting led to a quick “you need to tell me everything about home” and “I’ll grab some food and come over so we can catch up!” and next thing I knew, I was opening my front door and was greeted with a happy, cheesy face. A one-armed hug and a flick to my chin led him to squeeze past me and towards the living room.

He, as a person, baffled me. The way he so effortlessly made himself at home and started unpacking the food, all the while rambling about the restaurant being skimpy with veggies in their dishes, but the spices blend makes up for it - so he just orders extra greens. Such a boring opinion that still made me smile fondly at his drawled nonsense.

“So! How much did you miss me?” his exaggerated smile was flashed at me. “Must’ve been torture being away from me for such a long time.”

“Barely made it through,” I played along. “The scenery did make up for it, though.”

“Upstaged by a gorgeous view,” he tutted with faux disapproval. “Seriously though, when can I see your pictures?”

“And here I was, thinking you were here to catch up with your dearest friend.” I scoffed with a slight roll of my eyes. He glanced my way, pausing with a spring roll mid-air and just raised his eyebrows, giving me a smug look. He brought the roll to his mouth, maintaining eye contact whilst he crunched his way through a bite.

“And here I was, thinking you would jump my bones the second I walked through your door.” His scoff was playful and the quirk of his lips was an easy hint at his joking mood.

All I could do was smile at him - that man, with his rights and wrongs, with his wit, his cheekiness, his looks, his talent, his moments that warrant wide eyes and a question of “what in the actual hell?”, his soft demeanour contrasted with his “climbing the walls” bouts of uncontainable energy, the plethora of conversations we can carry, his face, his hands, his neck. That man right there, I did want to jump his bones.

“So,” I tried to think of how to word the question I was dying to ask. “How’s Jess?”

“Hm,” He rested his head against the back of the couch and closed his eyes, interlocking his fingers on his tummy. “Spoke to her the day you left.”

I stayed silent for a moment, waiting for him to elaborate but, ever the tease he was, he kept the momentum going and smiled slightly. “And?”

“And,” He purposefully prolonged the sound, only to spit out the rest of the sentence quickly. “We talked about taking a break to figure things out.”

I have never been known to have a strong poker face but I could usually mask my emotions and reactions to a certain extent - this time I think he could hear my eyes rolling.

“Well, that’s different, isn’t it?” My sentence was heavily accentuated by sarcasm.

“I know you don’t believe in breaks,” He sounded bored and done with the direction the conversation was taking. “And neither do I.” He chose that moment to lull his head to the side and make eye contact with me.

I pursed my lips to the side, feeling the want to wrap myself around him dwindle with each word said out loud. I should’ve seen it coming - he said he was ready to end a seemingly perfect relationship just after he strayed from his path. The fact that I even believed him was quite an insult to my own intelligence.

“I..” Words seemed to fail me in that exact instant, “don’t even know what to say, if I’m being honest.”

“Not much for you to say when that conversation ended with us breaking up.” His monotonous tone was quite disorienting, giving the weight of the words he spoke.

“Huh?”, was all I could come up with.

He heaved a heavy sigh, shuffling on the couch and sitting up straight. “I told you, I didn’t see it working with Jess anymore - I wasn’t going to mess her around any more than I already did.” His pressed lips and frowned eyebrows gave him a gloom look. “I had known, from the moment I met with her to talk, that it was going to end with us breaking up.”

I just kept staring at his profile, not really knowing if it was my place to comfort him or not. The bottom line was, he was my friend before we slept together, we cared for each other and we comforted each other when needed.

I reached out and tugged him by the arm, causing him to lean towards me sideways, with no resistance whatsoever, and his head to fall to my chest. To my surprise, he was quite malleable in my hands and fell into the embrace as if he was expecting it to happen. One arm around his shoulders and the other hand pushing his hair back, so I could kiss the top of his head - he let me cuddle him and let his weight fall onto me.

“I’m sorry, H,” I mumbled against his hair, “I know it’s a decision that you made, but I also know that it hurts all the same.”

“Mh,” he adjusted and held me around the waist, “it’s never easy to go through a breakup, I feel like shit. But you know what?”

I hummed, letting him speak.

“She took it on the chin and called me out on my bullshit,” his chuckle could be felt on my stomach. “When I used the work excuse, she straight up told me to ‘stop fucking around and just get on with it’.”

“Mh, you do like when a partner can put you in your place.”

“Equally as much as I like to put them in their place.” His comment was accompanied by a quick glance up towards me and a squeeze to my middle.

“Alright,” My fingers buried through his strands and gave a tug at his hair. “Let me be a supportive friend and a great host and make you a cuppa.”

“I don’t need your lousy tea,” he mumbled, snuggling his face in my chest, “do you have any nice wine?”

“So that’s why you wanted to come over! Steal all the wine I brought from home?”

“I mean, kind of.” He shrugged and laughed, refusing to let me go. “Seeing your face is also a plus.”

And that is how we ended up with a glass of fine Italian wine each, nibbling on some Chinese food and the pictures I took on my holiday mirrored to my TV. He ooh’d and aah’d at every peak of greenery and blue skies and bright sun he saw, all the while teasing and making jokes to keep the morale up.

His head on my shoulder and his fingers playing with mine were clearly innocent touches - innocent touches that escalated when he turned his face and buried it in my neck when his fingers left mine and took a hold of my nape, when his mouth travelled to my jaw, my cheek. It only took me a split second to sigh at my stupidity and then turn my face, meeting his lips with mine.

And, I suppose he was right - I did end up jumping his bones.

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sup-hoes-its-me · 3 years

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Skinny Love (Kakashi x Reader)

A/N: hello again. I'm in love with Kakashi this mans makes me heart go wild I swear. Hope you like seeing him on ur dash lol. Shy reader who is too afraid to confess how she feels to Kakashi. This is only part one and is essentially just fluff. The second part will be all angst and sadness so beware.

Ps. It took me so long to get this one done. I was struggling to find the right words.

Word count: 4000

"Come on, sensei. You like him," Sakura laughed, poking her superior in the arm. The group of women stood outside the training grounds after a day of hanging out and working on their jutsu. On occasion Y/N enjoyed taking the girls out and spending time with them. It was a relief to be away from all that testosterone. If only for a short time.

She just shook her head, smothering down the embarrassment she felt creeping up her neck. Her stomach churned whenever she recognized her feelings for the man. It was just so intense. "I would never feel that way about a coworker, you know that, Sakura."

"But he's not just a coworker to you, is he? He's also your close friend," Ino hummed.

"Perhaps, but haven't I taught you that it's bad to let emotions get in the way of work?"

The blond rolled her eyes, turning to fully face one of her sensei, who she would argue was deeply in denial. "Seriously why does it even matter? Kurenai-sensei and Asuma-sensei literally had a baby together. You should definitely tell Kakashi you like him."

Y/N tossed her head back against the wall, sighing. "Girls, I really don't like him. He's just my friend. He's nice to me and I appreciate that, but that doesn't mean I want to date him or anything." Her voice shook and clearly she had been caught.

She was always so bad at lying.

"Whatever you say, Y/N."

"It's just something I'd rather not dwell on, Sakura. I'm sorry for being so private about it, but it's a sensitive subject for me," the woman confessed, rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly.

"It's okay! You don't have to apologize. We get it! Feelings can definitely be complicated."

"I-I," she started, about to explain herself, but instead she rethought what she was about to say. There was no reason to actually reveal how she felt about the man. These times were tough, and there wasn't any room for making things even more messy with relationship drama. Y/N was more than happy just pretending they were friends and nothing more. As long as she had him just to talk to, she would be fine. As long as he always made it back alive, there was no reason to complain.

"You're right. Feelings are too complicated," she muttered, feeling herself practically deflate as she did so. Y/N was beginning to think she was just the one making everything complicated when it didn't have to be. Skipping around and lying about her feelings. Kakashi wouldn't ditch her if she just said something, she was sure of it.

Just as Sakura was about to reply, the voice of the man in question chimed in from down the path, "Y/N, we were looking for you."

"Yes, the third wheel to our tricycle of youth!"

Y/N felt a smile grow on her lips at the sounds of those voices, especially Gai's exclamation of youth. He was awfully weird, she thought, but that was what kept him so interesting. She turned to face the men walking in her direction. "Kakashi, Gai! What's up? The girls and I were just finishing our training."

"We're going out for drinks and thought you might like to join."

"Sounds great. It's been a long time since the three of us went out. For some reason we never have off at the same time anymore."

"Yeah, it's a shame. Missions have taken over our lives lately," Kakashi said tiredly. It was true. They really never had a second to rest. It was beginning to take its toll. Those were the consequences of war though. "How have you been?"

"Good, I, um..." she began, her eyes trailing up to Kakashi's. He watched back intently, patiently, and she felt something in her chest flutter up. He was always so handsome, she wondered how she could go so long without seeing his face. She just wanted to leap forward and give him a hug, wrap herself up in his warm arms for just a little while. That wasn't an option though, so she settled on some simple words. "I've missed you."

His eyes softened barely enough to be noticeable but she saw. Her heart continued to flutter up in her chest and she sighed, clutching her hands tighter behind her back. No doubt the girls standing just behind her were hyper-analyzing all their interactions, especially after revealing they held an interest in the pair's relationship.

He didn't have the chance to reply though, as Gai was the one to chime in. "Why thank you. I have to say, I've missed you as well, my kunoichi friend."

"Thanks, Gai." Even if the statement wasn't exactly pointed toward him, she was happy she had been missed.

"No problem! Now I hope you young ladies don't mind if we take L/N off your hands."

"No no. It's not a problem, Gai-sensei. I'm sure our moms want us home for dinner anyway. It's getting late after all."

"Yeah, we'll see you later, Y/N-sensei." The pink haired girl waved ss they started to make their way in the opposite direction toward town. Ino paused for a moment though.

"Don't forget what we talked about. You really shouldn't be so shy; it's gonna be okay," she said softly. Y/N sighed, nodding her head as if to say fine. In reality, she wouldn't do anything different. She wasn't feeling very open to changing herself or facing any of her fears. "See you around."

It was kinda sad that Y/N found comfort and support in a bunch of 15 year olds. She was an adult, couldn't she talk to other adults about her problems. These girls were just so accepting and she didn't feel awkward talking about immature things like crushes. Any other adult would just be too wrapped up in their own lives to care too much anyway.

"What was that about?"

"Nothing, Kakashi. We were just talking about random stuff. You know how curious they can be."

"You go out there and fight rogue shinobi every week. How could you be shy?" The green beast asked.

"It's really nothing. They're always assuming things about me. I'm reserved, but I wouldn't say I'm shy, per se…" She stopped to think for a quick second, tapping her foot on the ground. "Actually, I would say I'm just more conscious of the things I say and do than most other people. Not a bad thing at all."

Kakashi nodded. "It's good to keep a level head."

"Exactly. I'm Level headed. Thanks, Kakashi."

"Now let's head off to the bar! Sake for everyone!" Gai cheered, throwing his fist up in the air. She nodded, walking up beside the pair as they started off toward the restaurant of their choice, which she hoped was her favorite one with the tastiest fruit juice drinks. She was willing to put out good money to have one good, tispy night of drinks and snacking. It had already been weeks since she had a night off, one time wouldn't break the bank.

She stood to the right of them, just beside Kakashi. Every now and then she found herself drifting just a bit too close to him, her natural gait leaning toward the left. At one point, she found her hand skim dangerously close to his and she snatched it away to keep herself in check. Holding his hand perhaps was a dream of hers but she wasn't going to actually try anything.

It wasn't that she was afraid of Kakashi. Quite the opposite actually. She cared for him so deeply it sometimes made her stomach churn when she thought about it. He was her friend for ages, ever since she could really remember. He was one of the only people she could sit with and feel completely enveloped in a warm comfort, free of judgement and deceit. Gai as well, but Kakashi was different.

Maybe he could be a bit of pervert, and even sarcastic at times, but he was never rude. He had changed over the years from being a know-it-all, little jerk to someone everyone liked and admired, a kind and brave soul.

Unfortunately, it took bouts of death and loss to come about this change, but she wasn't going to ignore it. He was the best man she knew, and it only seemed natural she fell in love with him. He would probably never feel the same way. He had better things to worry about and other women to long for. He didn't have his entire life to wait around for a shy woman like herself. That was okay.

As long as he was alive and well, she would be happy.

Maybe one day she would gather the courage to grab his hand, to run her thumb over his knuckles and feel the callouses against her skin. Maybe one day she would have the courage to confess how she felt. Not now, but one day when she was comfortable.

"You okay?" He asked, pulling her out of her deepening thoughts. "You're walking really slow and uh, your hand…" The man motioned to where she was clutching her wrist against her chest.

"Yes, I'm fine. Just uh, my wrist is sore from training." She worked her hand in a circle, pretending to stretch it out. He rolled his visible eye, knowingly.

"Sure. Always skipping around the real issues."

"I'm really okay. I was just thinking hard about something."

"Anything to do with what you, Sakura, and Ino were talking about?" he suggested, raising a brow.

She groaned. He always knew what she was thinking. It was definitely one of his best and worst qualities depending on the situation. In this case, she felt awkward as she was so lost in thought about him. She felt like a fool. "Maybe it was. But that was girl time and now it's drinking time. Different topics of discussion."

"Well, mind telling me what's got you so caught up? It's gotta be important."

"It's personal."

"Ah, I see. Well, that's fine. When you want to talk about it, I'm always around."

There was silence for a moment, her thoughts running wild in her head. He was so kind, it wouldn't be bad to tell him how she felt. He would let her down easy, surely. And Gai would be there to cushion her embarrassment, no doubt. He would make things less awkward somehow. She was sure of it.

It was crazy. No way she would say anything. Definitely not.

"I'm interested in someone," Y/N found herself blurting out before she could stop herself. She just felt so much pressure building up in her chest and the only way she could relieve that feeling was to tell him something, anything about the predicament she was in. She wouldn't tell him exactly how she felt and about who, but she could vent.

Damn, all this and she didn't even have her first drink. That man really did something to her.

The men stopped in their path, their heads turning their attention solely to her. She felt her neck and cheeks begin to heat up and her palms start to sweat. Why would she say that? Dammit. She really was a fool.

"Really? Who?" Gai asked. "He'd be a fool to reject you, of course, beautiful flower of the leaf! You do not have to worry!"

"Gai...it's really not that simple. He is, um, out of my league, I guess you could say," she muttered nervously, rubbing her palms together to ease her anxiety. "He's just well, I don't know, the perfect guy ever."

She could feel Kakashi tense at her side, and her eyes scanned over him. He didn't look out of the ordinary but his energy had definitely changed. Strange.

"No one is out of your league, don't you dare say something like that! If he doesn't let you down easy, I will use my fists of justice to defend you! Tell me who this mystery man is."

"This is what Ino meant when she said you were being shy. You aren't going to tell him, are you?" Kakashi asked, and she noticed the bit of annoyance in his tone. She wondered if he was just upset she was talking about such silly things when they were ready to start drinking. She felt embarrassed. They were adults. Adults don't talk about this kind of thing. He doesn't want to hear about the guys she's interested in, or how she feels about them. Maybe Gai would be interested in it, but not a cool guy like Kakashi.

"Of course not. Like I said, he would just reject me anyway, there's no point," she told them. "And Gai, I can't just tell you who it is. You know you're a loud mouth; you'd go around telling everyone." She really didn't believe Gai would do that to her. He was far too conscious of others feelings for the most part. She just couldn't risk Kakashi knowing. She would keep it a secret from him.

"Oh come on! Just tell us! I'll help you out, be your wingman!"

"Maybe I'll tell you another time. When I'm more confident in myself."

"Well, what is it that has finally caught out dear friends heart in a web of love? Tell us!" Oh man. He really was nosy sometimes. He meant well, but occasionally he just didn't know when to stop. Kakashi kept his mouth shut because he understood she was getting uncomfortable, that or he was growing annoyed as she suspected.

Regardless, it was nice to get some of this off her chest, even if it was risky business.

"I don't really know. He's smart and considerate, and very brave. He's handsome as well, that's a plus," she smiled, listing off the things she liked about the man standing right in front of her. It felt so exhilarating, talking about her feeling so openly. It was terrifying and relieving at the same time. Y/N exhaled as she thought about him again, "He just makes me feel happy when I'm in my worst moments, that's all. I mean, what else could I ask for?"

"I see! He sounds like a good guy. Can't wait to meet him," he laughed until his eyes widened and he leaned in a bit closer to her face. He pointed his finger at his chest and questioned, "Unless of course, I already know him. It's not me, is it?

She found herself smiling just a little, her lips curving up at the absurdity of it all. "No definitely not. You don't have to worry about that."

"I'm wounded, but I understand. My youthfulness is just too strong for you."

As she thought of something to say, she began to question just why Kakashi hadn't said anything really at all. It was strange of him, letting the other man do all the talking when normally he asked her questions and at least tried to engage. Maybe he was feeling tired or bored with the conversation. She had to change the subject.

"So uh, let's get a move on before all the good booths are taken, yeah?"

"Actually, I'm getting tired. I think I'll just head home for the night, get ready for my mission in two days," the white haired jounin sighed. They both looked over to him, surprised, but Y/N knew why he needed to go. She had upset him somehow. So much for a fun night between the three of them.

"Kakashi, come on! Don't bail on us now!"

She took a step back and her eyes trailed up to his, which were narrowed, not angrily just as if he had been hurt or confused she couldn't tell which. "Oh, are you sure?" Her heart was sinking in her chest seeing him so conflicted.

"Yeah. Got a headache, too."

"Ah, okay. Well, I'll see you around sometime?"

"Yeah."

"Goodbye, rival. Hopefully you are feeling better tomorrow and we can have a real night of drinking indeed!"

And with that, he left to his apartment, leaving the other two behind. She felt her stomach begin to turn uncomfortably, sick from the thought of Kakashi just leaving them like that. He seemed so angry, she couldn't help but think it was all her fault. It wasn't in his nature to act that way.

They had already spent so much time apart already that it was tugging at her heart strings. She felt like they rarely saw each other anymore. For him to be angry at her and leave, that meant they would just see each other even less than before. It seemed like a nightmare come true. She really did miss him, like she had said. She missed the fun they would have together and the conversations they shared. She just missed him and there he went, gone off again without so much as a real goodbye.

The woman clutched at her stomach, feeling the tossing and turning overtake her sense with nausea.

Suddenly, before she could contain herself, tears began dripping down her cheeks, and she sucked in her breath. Hot tears warmed her cheeks, and frantically she wiped them away from her cheeks. Her arms wound around her waist and she hugged herself tightly inward, almost as if she would turn into a ball if she could.

"Y/N, what's wrong?! What happened?"

"It's Kakashi," she whispered, trying to keep herself from crying anymore but it only got worse.

"Kakashi? Because he left? It's okay, we can go drinking another night or-or you and I can just go alone. No problems," he tried to say but it wasn't going to work. She didn't want to go to dinner with Gai and she didn't want to wait until tomorrow, or whatever the next time they would all be together. She was being stupid and selfish, acting like a spoiled little baby with all this crying. She just couldn't stop herself.

"It's not that. There's something I haven't told anyone. I don't know what to do."

"It's gonna be fine whatever it is. Just calm down."

"No, I can't. It's so bad, Gai. I'm in love with him, it's him, and now he's mad at me and I don't know what I did wrong," she confessed, feeling all the words slipping out so easily. How is it that such strong emotions could just cause her to think so irrationally and just let something like this happen? A bout of confessing every feeling she had to her friend who may or may not go and relay all this information to Kakashi. It was stupid. She was just being stupid and reckless.

He nodded carefully, moving to take ahold of her shoulders to steady her. "It's gonna be okay. He's not mad at you, I promise. I know Kakashi and I'm sure he really was just feeling sick."

"Gai, I just...I don't want him to ever leave me, even over something stupid like this."

"Trust me, you don't have to worry about Kakashi leaving you. He would never do something like that. You are one of his closest friends. There's almost nothing you could do to make him do that, especially if you always have good intent at heart. Trust me, you really don't ever need to worry," Gai explained trying his best to reason with her. "You two do everything together. He never stops talking about you! He would never let you go."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I am one hundred percent sure!"

"I-I need to go find him. I need to make sure he's not upset with me," she said as she pushed herself away from him. He waved to her as she started in the direction of Kakashi's apartment.

"Goodluck on your mission, Y/N, not that you'll need it."

______

Kakashi was just about to enter his apartment when she dashed up the stairs and turned the corner, going so fast she nearly slid into the wall. His eyes widened when he saw her, and he froze in his spot, not turning the key to the door just yet. Her face was flush and chest heaved. He could tell she rushed on her way.

"Y/N, did you run all the way here?"

She stood, catching her breath after just having run all the way across town to find him. Her heart raced as she looked up at him, and she clutched at the railing of the stairs for support. "I wanted to say sorry for whatever I said to make you angry with me. I didn't know I was being insensitive."

"I told you I was sick," he replied, but she knew better. And he knew she did. He wasn't dumb. They knew each other better than that and there was no pretending.

"I could tell that was a lie. I know you were angry and I felt terrible."

"Were you just crying?"

She exclaimed back, holding a hand over her heart to maybe try and ease the racing heartbeat, "Maybe. What about it?! I was hurt that I'd offended my friend, isn't that tear-worthy?" She took a few more deep breaths through her mouth, letting the air fill her up and calm her down. "Why were you so upset?"

"It's not important."

"No, no. It's important to me!"

The man paused, thinking over his next words carefully. He very well knew the real reason he ran away from their conversation like a coward. He actually thought it was obvious. It wouldn't hurt for her to know. He sighed, "If you really want to know. It's because I was tired of hearing about your love life. It's not exactly an entertaining subject."

She knew it but admittedly she would be lying if she said she didn't feel her heart break a little at those words. He didn't care about her feelings enough to just sit there and listen to her talk for a couple minutes? Was she that annoying? So many thoughts ran through her head, and each one made her sad. "I just didn't want to go a whole night with Gai talking about it," he added. "It's nothing to do with you."

"I'm sorry. I really shouldn't have brought it up."

"It's fine," he brushed off her apology. "I'm the one who asked about it in the first place."

"Why- why wouldn't you want to hear me talk about other men? Why would that be a sore subject for you?" She asked, her curiosity spiking up through the roof. It was strange, the whole situation. He had never backed down from a personal chat before, only this time.

He felt like a deer caught in the headlights suddenly. How was he supposed to reply to that without blowing his cover. "I just don't like the whole romance thing."

But they both knew that was a lie. He read romance for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. But if he wanted to keep his secrets, she would let him. There was no need to pry. She just hoped he would trust her enough in the future to explain what he meant. Secretly, she wished that it was because he was jealous. That he didn't want to hear about another man because he wanted to be that guy, her lover. It was a wild thought, a hopeless theory meant to be thrown out, but she could fantasize.

"Kakashi, we're still good? As friends and all? You'll go out with me and Gai another time then?"

He nodded, his lips quirking up into just a tiny smile. It was characteristic for her mind to go straight to the worst case scenario. He replied, "Of course. Like I said, it's not that bad. Don't worry about it."

"Okay. I'm glad. I really thought I messed up this time."

"I don't think there's anything you could do to make me hate you," he sighed, leaning his shoulder against his door frame. "The day I let you go is the day I die, Y/N."

She smiled, closing her eyes and finally taking a relaxed breath. It was done. He wasn't angry at all. He still cared for her and everything else she could hope for. As long as they could remain friends, it was all gonna be okay. She laughed, "That's what Gai said. Should have listened to him, huh?"

The both nodded and suddenly they were enveloped in a peaceful silence for a while. She stared down at her feet and he watched her quietly, admiring the way she could be so miserably shy yet so adorable at the same time.

"Do you wanna go catch dinner? Or uh, just drinks like we originally planned, if you want," he asked, running his hand through his hair. Her eyes brightened at the question, and he'd be stupid not to notice the new shine in them.

"Do you want to go find Gai first?"

"Actually, how about it just be you and me this time? We'll catch Gai tomorrow morning for breakfast instead."

"Two meals in two days...I'm not made of money."

"It's on me. Don't worry about it."

"Oh, jeez. So nice of you, Kakashi. Thank you! Where are we going?" she asked happily, walking up to him and rolling back in the balls of her feet.

"Wherever you want to go."

"I feel like I'm getting the special treatment. I'm so excited," she cheered, pulling him in the direction of the stairs by the edge of his sleeve.

He just smiled. It was all he could do. He had the most beautiful woman in the entire world in front of him ready to go on a not-exactly date. They were only friends, and she reaffirmed that today when she mentioned she was interested in someone else.

But for now he could pretend they were a thing. That they were dating and that she loved him and he could openly love her back. He would take her out to dinner and kick at her ankles under the table just to annoy her. And he would take a sip of her drink and pretend it was too sweet for him and watch as she struggled to drink a sip of his liquor.

And after he walks her home that night, he would hug her tight to his chest and he would think about kissing her, to pull down his mask for just a split second and press his lips to hers, but he would refrain. It just wasn't the right time. Maybe there would never be a right time either, and that was okay.

As long as they could have nights like these, as long as he would feel her in his arms, he was more than happy. He was in love.

Part Two is up.

#kakashi x reader #kakashi imagine #kakashi hatake x reader #kakashi one shot #naruto one shot #naruto imagines #naruto x reader #writing #one shot #x reader #kakashi #naruto #kakashi hatake #naruto fanfic

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all-my-love-for-harry · 4 years

Text

Sing me my song.

summary: Harry’s feeling insecure after he sees his girlfriend interact with her ex.

word count: 2.7k

warnings: fluff with some angst, happy ending tho.

a/n: this was requested by @hazzalightsupmyworld, hope you like it! Let me know what you think :)

Find the rest of my masterlist here.

*:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･: *:･ﾟ✧ ✧ﾟ･:

Relationship wise, Y/N has never been one with luck. She has never had the ability to jump from one relationship to other, it just wasn’t who she was. Instead, she spent several years being in love with the same person.

Ariana and Y/N met after they shared a studio session back in 2015. They wrote some songs together for Ariana’s upcoming album at that time. It took them two months and several cups of coffee to fall in love. Their relationship was mostly private, as neither of them wanted curious eyes all over their every move. Of course the media eventually caught up the two women weren’t just friends, but were romantically involved and after Ariana’s album dropped, it looked pretty serious.

However timing just wasn’t on their side, and for different reasons, they ended up going separate ways. Although that didn’t stop them from remaining friends, Y/N was still in love with her ex-girlfriend. She stayed there through tough times and not even once not dropped everything if Ariana called.

It was some time after their breakup when they found their way back to each other. They thought it was only fair to give it another shot, but it just didn’t work out. They both wanted different things and together came to the conclusion they were better off as friends, so Y/N and Ariana called it quits before they hurt the other bad enough they wouldn’t be able to be friends in the future.

For a lot of time, Y/N thought she wouldn’t be able to fall in love again, or at least have a somehow serious relationship with someone else. It took her time, but eventually she got there. With every day that passed, it got easier to move on.

And that’s when she met Harry.

A kind, shy man who has shown her a completely different side of the world, one that she was completely oblivious of before he came into her life. Although Harry was sure since the beginning about his feelings for her, it took Y/N a little while to open up to him and allow him to take her on a date. Sure, they hung out and stuff, but it was always with other people around in a friendly environment. Now there was nothing wrong with that, but Harry wanted more.

Almost a year after they first met, Harry and Y/N finally started dating. Things were great between the two of them. They both felt like there was something very… real in what they had. Quite frankly, they had never felt like this before. It truly felt like they were building a life together that could easily become a forever thing, and even though for some people it could be scary, for them it wasn’t. It felt good to have something stable after a long time of trying to find something that felt completely real and honest.

It wasn’t until Y/N felt like she was 100% over Ariana that they started talking again. Of course, they had missed each other but they both agreed it wouldn’t be so healthy to try to move on without putting some sort of distance between them. For them, it was so easy to become close friends again. It was like the old times, just with a few boundaries they had agreed on.

Last time Y/N saw her, was on Ariana’s first show of her tour. She had gone to support her, however she did not join her on tour like last time. And it was fine, honestly. Y/N felt like her life was complete now that she had her boyfriend and her best friend in it.

Now Y/N found herself spending more time in London with Harry than anywhere else in the world. And it was slowly starting to become her second home.

Around August, after taking a shower before getting ready to go out with Harry, Y/N received a text. It was from Ariana, she was inviting her to her next concert in London that was in a few days. Y/N bit her lip, thinking what it was best to do. Honestly? She wanted to go. It would be really nice to go see her perform after a few months of not seeing each other, and she could always bring Harry so he’d have a good time too.

“Babe, are you ready? Reservation’s at seven o’clock.” Harry came out of their walk-in closet with his clothes on his hands.

“Yeah, one second.” Y/N sent Ariana a quick text saying she’d ask Harry before looking up at him. “Hey, do you want to go to a concert this weekend?”

“Sure, who are we seeing?”

“Ariana.”

Now, Harry knew their story and how big of a roll Ariana was on his girlfriend’s life, and although it made him insecure at times (not that he’d ever say a word to her about it), he has come to accept that. Also, it wasn’t like Ariana was a stranger to him. They were also friends, just never been really close.

“I mean, I’m down. It’ll be fun if we go.” He shrugged, deciding it shouldn’t have to be a big deal.

“Awesome. I’ll tell her we’re going.” She smiled.

Inside of his head, Harry tried to convince himself they’d have a good time, and everything was going to be fine, although he wasn’t feeling so confident at the moment.

Saturday rolled in and all Y/N could talk about was the concert. She planned an outfit along with hair and makeup that with go along with her clothes. She was excited but also a little nervous. They’d most likely go backstage after the show, and it would be the first time the three of them would be together in the same room.

Harry has called a car that would drive them to the O2 Arena. Unfortunately, they ran a little late due traffic so when they arrived, they had to take her seats in the VIP box immediately because the show was about to start. Harry wrapped an arm around Y/N’s shoulder as they stood there waiting. Now, normally he wouldn’t be anywhere touchy with her if they were in public, but he was feeling particularly clingy today so he didn’t care if tomorrow there would be a billion of pictures of the two of them all over the internet.

The lights when out and the music started, making the twenty thousand people in the arena erupt in screams.

Aside from the two of them, there were other people in the VIP box. A couple of Ariana’s friends Y/N knew and some celebrities.

So far they were having a good time. Harry let loose a little and started dancing with Y/N too. He screamed the lyrics he knew and jumped around just like everyone else. After the fourth song passed, the energy lowered a little as a slower song came into the set list.

Y/N swallowed hard when she recognized the melody. R.E.M. was a song Ariana told her a long ago was written about Y/N a little before they broke up for the second time. In complete honesty, she loved the song. She loved it when Ariana showed it to her that night they stayed up until 2am just talking, long before it was out to the world, and she loved it now that she was hearing it along with twenty thousand people.

It brought a lot of memories back and the song that followed did not help.

Harry noticed her sudden change of behavior but chose to not point it out. Instead, he gave her hand a squeeze that quickly snapped her back to reality. She looked up at him and smiled, leaning into him a little.

Songs like Moonlight, Sometimes or Thinking Bout You, Y/N knew weren’t on the original set list of the concert. They were old songs Ariana didn’t really sing anymore, mainly because they were about her, and she was singing them now.

It only made her more nervous to step into backstage after the concert. And it wasn’t about any lingering feelings, truly. It just was kind of a lot to take in. She was in love with the woman for a long time, for the love of God.

One song before the concert ended, they decided to head backstage to avoid the crowd afterwards. Someone from the security team leaded the way to them and some other people who had the same idea and they waited patiently for the show to end.

“Did you have a good time?” She asked him.

“I did, haven’t danced like that in quite some time.”

“Me too.”

The couple held hands and stayed a little behind. There were people everywhere, both from the staff and friends that were hanging around. They heard Ariana say her goodbyes to the public before she ran off the stage. People rounded her to congratulate her for the show, she went around giving hugs to everybody until her eyes landed in Y/N.

Both girls squealed and crashed into a hug. “You’re here!”

“I promised I’d come, Ari.” Y/N said sweetly.

“I’m so happy you did. I changed the set list after you texted me.” Ariana gave her a dimpled smile, looking directly at her eyes.

“So I noticed.”

Harry caught awkwardly, not really knowing what to do with himself. Ariana and Y/N broke the eye contact as the first one went and hugged Harry. “Thank you for coming, Har.”

“Thank you for the invitation. We had a great time.” He didn’t really mean to, but subconsciously he emphasized the we.

“I’m happy you did.” She said. “I was thinking we could have dinner afterwards. Courtney’s also here somewhere.”

“Absolutely.” Y/N was quick to answer.

“Great, let me take a shower and grab my shit before we go.” Ariana walked away towards her dressing room.

“Do we have to go?” Harry almost whined.

“C’mon, it would be fun. Please?” She gave him those damn puppy eyes she knew he couldn’t resist. So he sighed and nodded, making her squeal. Y/N hugged him before she gave him a quick peck on the lips. “We won’t stay so long, I promise.”

Although he agreed on going, Harry kept quiet for most part of the dinner. Ariana and Y/N sat in front of the other so they were talking the whole time, giggling about things Harry did not understand as they were inside jokes they had. He did not feel comfortable at all by the end of the night, and it didn’t help the fact that Y/N was not acknowledging him.

“You need a ride home?” Ariana asked after dinner was paid and everyone was starting to get up from their seats.

Y/N was about to speak but Harry cut her off. “I have called a car, thank you though.” He didn’t want to sound rude, but he didn’t think he could stand a whole car ride with them probably seating next to each other giggling and whispering things.

“Oh, alright.” Ariana answered slowly. “I’ll be in London until next week, maybe we can meet up?” She said to Y/N.

“Totally, I’ll text you.”

The pair hugged tightly. Ariana waved at Harry a little awkwardly as she has already sensed his jealousy building up.

“Have you really called a car?” Y/N asked when it was only the two of them.

“Are you talking to me now?” He couldn’t help but say. He has in fact called a car, he did it the second they asked for the check. Y/N sighed, not really wanting to start anything while they were still in public.

Not long after that, a black range rover pulled up and they walked towards it to get in. This time, Y/N didn’t seat in the middle to be close to Harry. Instead, each of them sat by each end of the seat. The ride back to the house was quiet, none of them had really nothing to say to the other, but they were also gathering their thoughts because they knew what was going to go down once they entered the house.

The both of them thanked the driver before getting out of the car and into the house. Y/N took off her shoes and walked to the kitchen to get a glass of water, Harry following her steps.

“Are you going to tell me what is wrong?” She asked.

“I don’t know. Is there anything wrong?”

“Oh, c’mon. Don’t be like that.” She crossed her arms. “There’s something bothering you and I want to know what it is. Did you not have a good time?”

“I was until you started flirting with your bloody ex.” He finally said.

“Flirting? Harry, I was not flirting with her.”

“Yes, you were. And she was flirting with you too!” He accused. “Don’t think I didn’t notice how she was looking at you!”

“According to you, how was she looking at me?”

“Like she was still in love with you! Didn’t you see? She basically serenaded you back in the concert and had no problem admitting it. ‘I included these songs only because you told me you were coming’” He tried to copy her voice. “For fuck’s sake.”

“Well, I can exactly control what songs she includes in her show!”

“Oh, but you clearly enjoyed it, didn’t you? Must have felt good to have all her attention.”

“Now you’re being mean.” She said.

“No, I’m being honest. And I’m sorry if it makes me mad when your ex is all over you!”

“She was-”

“And you can’t even see it. Can’t you see how fucking insecure it makes me feel whenever you talk so highly of her? How am I supposed to top what you had with her?”

Y/N swallowed hard. “It is not a competition, you know? I don’t spend all our time together comparing what we have with what I had with her.”

“For you it might not be. But I do spend a lot of time worrying about you waking up one day and deciding you don’t love me as much as you love her. After all, you have found your way back to each other once, what assures me it won’t happen again?”

“It won’t.” She stated.

“You don’t know that.” He shakes his head. “What if one day you realize you can always go back to her? You’d leave me in a heartbeat.”

“How can you have such little trust in me? I love you, Harry.” Y/N almost cried out. “When my heart was broken, you were the only one there who helped me glue it back together. You. I would have never agreed on going on a date with you if I wasn’t over her.” She paused. “After I met you, I knew I had to get my shit back together so this,” She motioned the space between them. “would work. Because I wanted it to work. You have given me so much,” Her voice broke. “I don’t think I would ever stop loving you.”

“Baby-”

“And I’m sorry if I today I made you doubt that. It wasn’t my intention at all. I was just… I was excited, you know? You have to understand that while I dated Ariana in the past, I’m not in love with her anymore. Do I love her? Yes, I do. But it isn’t the kind of love I have for you, H. What I had with her had an expiration date, and I knew it. But I also know that I want to be with you forever. You’re my forever, not her.”

Harry chocked a laugh, allowing one tear to roll down his left eye. “You’re my forever too, baby.”

“I’m sorry.” She said again before wrapping her arms around his torso. “I love you so, so much. Please believe me.”

“I believe you, I do.” He mumbled before kissing the top of her head, hugging her back. “I’m sorry for being so insecure.”

“I know it isn’t exactly normal to be close with your ex, and i’m still working on setting boundaries.”

“I appreciate that.”

They both sighed happily, enjoying being in each other’s arms. “Do you get as excited as you were today when you listen to the songs I wrote for you?” He asked quietly after a while.

“Just as excited, if not more. I love it when you sing me my song.”

“The one about us dancing in the kitchen or the one about me eating your pu-”

“Way to ruin the moment, Styles.”

#harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry styles one shot #harry styles one shots #harry styles blurb #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurbs

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butwhatifidothis · 3 years

Text

Tumblr is starting to VERY MUCH dislike how long the other reblog chain is getting, so this will be Reblog Chain 2 of my jotting down notes of this fic. Here is the first reblog chain for Chapters 1-20

But it appears as though I was correct in sleeping off Chapter 20, because Chapter 21 is. Hm. bad. Very. Not good.

Chapter 21:

Transcript under the cut:

Chapter 21: It's Called Scars so it Gonna Be Ass

- To be blunt, the constant need to reaffirm that yes, Edelgard went through terrible experimentation and that yes, they were very horrific, is tiring. This is chapter 21. The experiments occurred in chapter 2. Every single chapter between now and then have, at some point, mentioned that INDEED, Edelgard DID in fact go through horrific trauma. It is tiring to the reader to constantly have to reread the same thing - we know it happened. We know it was terrible. There's no need to constantly say so; we already understand as readers.

- "Every time the spark of life broke through Byleth’s blank face, it brought a flickering hope to the Flame Emperor’s heart." ->

- Firstly: Awkward use of the Flame Emperor epithet (its usage is on and off with how appropriate its been - this is off).

- Secondly: Once again, Byleth's face was rarely if ever blank. She was never the Ashen Demon, as even the last chapter showcased. The author is mistaking reservation with emotionlessness, which is simply wrong

- "There had been so many empty days and nights, without friendship, love or joy. With nothing to hope for, except someday, the peace of the grave." -> Suicidal tendencies: another trait that Edelgard doesn't have... (strikes against canon: 89)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 12

- "Dimitri, too, was troubled by the thought, grasping the side of his head and frowning. As the spasm passed, he turned to Edelgard and smiled warmly." -> It seems a little callous to so casually toss Dimitri's symptoms into his interactions with others when such things simply don't occur in the canon interactions. It's not impossible, or strictly against canon, but it does not feel natural; it's more as though the author is shining bright neon signs that say DIMITRI HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES than a genuine attempt at writing Dimitri's mental health issues. This is not the first time this sort of seemingly thoughtless showcasing of symptoms has happened (Noted separately: Dimitri having drastic mood swings)

- "No, this world must be ruled by humans…not cruel gods who ignored the prayers of little girls." -> This statement follows Edelgard internally chastising the actions of not gods, but the Children of the Goddess. This is a weaselly attempt at dodging Edelgard's racist beliefs that Nabateans should not be allowed positions of power by shifting the belief to apply to miscellaneous gods instead. While not inaccurate per se - she does also canonically believe that gods should have no power in human affairs - it is not honest

- "Byleth nodded with childlike simplicity. “We should all try to get along.”" -> Again describing Byleth as childlike and/or innocent. Counter: 3

- For those curious: yes, the rat scene is implemented, yes it is sloppy, yes it is out of character for Claude - so much so that it is being noted separately - and yes it is forced to all hell

- What will be noted here, however, is that this is yet another instance of a man being demeaned/humiliated for the honor of a woman. See quote: "Byleth was on him in an instant, a tempest forming in the sea of her blue eyes. “That isn’t funny.” She crossed her arms sternly. “Jokes are about bringing people together...about making them smile. Right now, the only person laughing is you.”" with Claude reacting awkwardly. Once again, Man Bad Woman Good

- In a showcasing of a complete lack of self-awareness within the fic: "“Maybe if you’d have taught the Deer instead…but since you seem to have no ambitions outside of cleaning up Edelgard’s messes…”" -> This is Claude being portrayed as the bad guy, not the one being completely and utterly right

- " She slapped Edelgard on the back, and smiled heartily. “I agree, Dimitri!” Edelgard grimaced, trying to hide the fact her teacher had just struck the wound she had received during the mock battle." -> As well as where undoubtedly countless scars would be, yes? Scars that still cause Edelgard pain? In fact, Edelgard has been slapped on the back by Byleth and Jeralt numerous times before, and yet expresses no pain or discomfort.

- Another thing, that I had not noted though ought to have: Edelgard, a victim of sexual assault (in this fic), rarely seems to mind people touching her. She gets a little surprised if someone tries to get her attention with touch, yes, but Byleth's constant unprompted and random touching of Edelgard is never said to do anything but bring warmth and joy and comfort to Edelgard. It seems as though Edelgard suffering through sexual assault is just another source of trauma for the author to dump onto her for nothing more than pity points

- This is incredibly harsh to say, yes, and I would usually refrain from attributing such harshness onto a piece of text, but remember that Edelgard's scars only cause her pain when it's convenient, that she only experiences headaches when it's convenient, that she experiences PTSD episodes (when Claude mentions the rat) when it's convenient (note that in this fic he does it outside of battle, where her getting triggered wouldn't compromise her chances at victory). Edelgard not being touch averse and being a victim of sexual assault are not inherently something bad - survivors react to trauma differently, after all - but it is another in a steadily longer line of instances where Edelgard is simply given trauma for the sake of making her pitiable to the reader and the love interest, not something that Edelgard genuinely has to struggle with.

- "As Claude and Dimitri looked at their classmate expectantly, Edelgard was wracked with another bout of guilt. Deep in her soul, the princess knew these peaceful days would end soon. When that happened, no feast or vows of friendship could make up for the chaos and horror she would unleash. It would be better to pull away, close off her heart, rather than fuel the flames of her inevitable betrayal." -> Aka, "Feel bad for me, I feel guilty for planning to cause the death and ruination of countless innocents' lives all because I convinced myself that my way is the only way to get things done my way without ever actually trying to see if more peaceful ways could have worked. I'm going to orphan children, force families to fight each other, have the land be rampaged by banditry, and overall bring chaos onto these days that I ADMIT ARE PEACEFUL all because I feel that my way would be better. Wah wah pity me but I don't wanna be pitied I promise wah wah."

- "Byleth shrugged with a characteristic blend of innocence and spirit. “I guess I just like winning.” She began to blush and grabbed Edelgard’s hand. "It's so exciting! I’ve never had anyone other than Papa to celebrate with before!”" -> Byleth = innocent/childlike. Counter: 4

- The fic likes to reaffirm again and again that Byleth is "now" only acting like this due to Edelgard's presence in her life. Note also these statements written previously: "Every day, [Edelgard] was watching the person she loved grow and change. Become who she always was supposed to be." This, perhaps unintentionally, again enforces the "Lesbian Love is Pure and Innocent" trope; these wlw are only allowed to be their good girl, innocent selves - who they were always supposed to be - due to the pure lesbian love they have found with one another

- Count Bergliez didn't know of the experiments initially, but he eventually found out and did nothing to stop them, fleeing from a young and tortured El who was pleading for him to save her - Unnecessarily painting Count Bergliez as a spineless coward too afraid of Duke Aegir to save a child in pain

- Once again, a man fails to save a woman and further traumatizes her

- It should be noted that Bergliez is fearful not for his own life, but for that of his children, who were the ones Duke Aegir threatened. He, very similar to Ionius, cannot save Edelgard, except Bergliez (unlike Ionius) has a tangible, physical, explainable reason as to why he couldn't, and yet it is him who is painted as the bad guy, not Ionius. He is worthy of Edelgard's scorn and hatred, but Ionius only receives a begrudging feeling of betrayal from Edelgard that she feels guilty for harboring, even though he failed her far more than Bergliez failed her.

- "Daughters must always be loyal to their fathers" trope

- "No decent person thought the things Edelgard did. Just as her body had been twisted and shattered by the experiments, her mind bore terrible scars. Scars that the monster kept hidden, so she could walk in the world of men." -> Dehumanizing oneself as a monster as well as having violent thoughts (that specifically stem from trauma) one feels guilty for harboring are not traits Edelgard shows in canon... (strikes against canon, 90, 91)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 13, 14

- "world of men?" Did the author perhaps mean "world of man," as in mankind? Keep note of

- The reason as to why Bergliez is said to have witnessed young El's tortured state and did nothing to help her is revealed: in canon, he dislikes her. It is blatantly and objectively said that he and Edelgard share a mutual displeasure in the other's company. What this fic had him do will be used as an excuse as to why he doesn't hate her, since no one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Edelgard, upon being asked if revenge is the reason she is doing what she's doing (reuniting Fodlan): "“No.” Edelgard put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I think for a long time, it was…but after a while, I realized that revenge wouldn’t satisfy me.” She looked at the blue sky above. “After you go through that much suffering…when you beg for help, day after day, and no one cares...you realize that nothing will ever truly make you feel safe again. The only thing I want is for this madness to end.”" -> This is internally inconsistent. See chapter 15 note: ""You know why they created me in the first place.” / “To reunite Fódlan,” spat Hubert. “It was all my father talked about.” / “And I will give it to them. "" This directly connects Edelgard's want to reunite Fodlan to the wants of her tormenters (as this states she is doing it out of spite). Note how Hubert spits at the idea of reuniting Fodlan, and how it was all his father - portrayed as a villain - talked about. This is not what this Edelgard wants, at least not of her own independent want. Earlier in this very chapter, Edelgard internally states a want to hurt Bergliez for leaving her behind. To say that she now no longer thinks vengeance would satisfy her, or that none of the reason that she is doing everything she does is out of a want for revenge, is ridiculous

- Edelgard to Bergliez, upon being asked what will happen to him and his family should Edelgard rise to power: "“All those who distinguish themselves will be rewarded. Given your history, I have little doubt you will be among them.” She nervously played with her white gloves. “All I ask is that when I seize back control of the throne, I can count on the military’s support.”" -> Yes, all who distinguish themselves to Edelgard, for Edelgard's cause, that Edelgard can see and/or know of. How likely is it that a poor farmer who is exceptional at fighting will actually be noticed by Edelgard and be given the credit he deserves, when others who may not be as meritable but do have some merit have the connections to show themselves directly in front of Edelgard? What means will Edelgard give the poor soldiers (that she or Byleth aren't already friends with, notably Dorothea and Leonie) that will allow them to be able to be seen by her and have their merits recognized? Edelgard is the one who says who gains power after all, so it is her they must prove themselves to, but how can they realistically do that?

- What about professions that are not immediately beneficial to Edelgard's cause, such as the arts? How will they fare in Edelgard's society, when their works and talents yield no tangible, objective results (such as, say, farming)?

- Something the fic will address?

- Edelgard does not nervously do anything in front of those she is trying to negotiate with in canon, not even Thales. Strikes against canon: 92

- "[Bergliez] could only laugh in response. “I think we’re going to get along rather well, my lady…and the other?”" -> Except Bergliez and Edelgard don't get along well, ever. Pre ts they are stated to dislike each other, which continues even onto post ts with Bergliez being the only noble Edelgard couldn't bring to heel. Strikes against canon: 93

- As predicted: No one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Literally forgot Hubert was with Edelgard and Bergliez lmao

- Ionius tried to consolidate power to be rid of the consort system due to his unending love for Anselma -> A ridiculous idea, plain and simple. Ionius was Emperor. If he wished to be rid of the consort system there was no need for him to try and take away all power from the other Imperial houses.

- If Ionius truly loved Anselma, why did he allow her to be exiled from the Empire? Why didn't he step in and use his influence as Emperor to help her?

- Edelgard, when she is Emperor - passed down a supposedly empty crown, at that - showcases the all-encompassing power the title of Emperor truly holds to one willing to use that power. That Ionius supposedly wanted to do all of these reforms and yet nothing at all was done, ever (save for ruining Houses Hrym and Ordelia, something even this fic has as canon), if Ionius did want to make these reforms, means that he was too spineless and cowardly to truly go through with trying to pass them. This again unintentionally showcases how awful a ruler and weak-willed a person Ionius was when he had power when trying to paint him in this righteous light.

- Lambert was stated to be trying to pass reforms before he died in canon, not Ionius. From parents to the children, the author is attributing traits from Lambert onto Ionius just as he (author's confirmed gender is male) attributes traits from Dimitri onto Edelgard

- " Her father and mother…she had thought their romance a fairy tale-a story from her father to make a motherless child feel valued. But…they truly had loved each other." -> Edelgard does believe Ionius when he told her of the story of when he and Anselma (supposedly) met each other. There is nothing to indicate that Edelgard thought it to be a lie: in fact, in canon: "But I choose to believe there was genuine love between them." Strikes against canon: 94

- It seems as though finally, after around 18 chapters, Edelgard's scars will finally cause her genuine inconvenience due to her complex about them as well as her trust issues. She has a gash on her back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion, but will not have it treated if Manuela isn't the healer, and yet the woman is occupied dealing with the rest of the students who were injured. How will this fic deal with this?

- Ingrid, referring to her and Sylvain: ""We just switched from Felix lecturing us all day to listening to Edelgard moralizing, didn’t we?"" -> The author is trying to compare a childhood friend whose friends have had years to get used to their barbed tongue to a stranger that directly insults the dreams of one of them. Something which Ingrid canonically hates having be done to her, even from Felix, a childhood friend. Once again, Ingrid being so casual about Edelgard being so disrespectful of her dreams is out of character. Strikes against canon: 95

- "Sylvain shook his head knowingly, ignoring Felix’s truly alarming scowl. “You should have seen his face, Edelgard. Dimitri would go on and on about this girl he met when he was a kid…and Felix would complain about her for hours!” He looked at Felix and smiled. “For all his whining about the “Boar,” nobody loves Dimitri more than him.”" -> Oh? A romantic gay male relationship presenting itself within the fic?

- Another vision of SS experienced by Edelgard. Word from a nameless guard: "The woman, Byleth, leading their forces... She’s not human! She killed half my battalion with one swing of that sword of hers. She didn’t speak, she didn’t shout, she didn’t even change her expression!” The panicked man was teetering on the edge of hysteria. “All those people rallying around her, and it’s like she doesn’t care at all. Like she's a walking corpse!"" -> Obviously saying that Byleth becomes the Ashen Demon if not allowed to be with Edelgard.

- Unintentional statement: Byleth can't be the pure innocent (lesbian) woman without Edelgard's (lesbian) love granting her purity, reverting her to a monstrous, corrupt demon incapable of humanity

- See chapter 20 note: "Implying that choosing SS - aka, choosing the Nabateans - makes Byleth less human. Intentional?" Confirmed to be intentional. Also false: in canon, even when accounting for CF's lesser chapter count, Byleth emotes far more on SS than on CF, which matches with CF having Edelgard call Byleth detached in their A support. Strikes against canon: 96

- The same nameless soldier, same context: "And those Faerghus kids…” / Edelgard leaned forward in her chair. “Ingrid…Sylvain…what of them?” / “They…they were animals. Screaming and ranting about revenge for the King.” -> Is the author really demonizing Sylvain and Ingrid for (potentially!) being mad at Edelgard for murdering one of their childhood friends? Is that really the depths the Edelgard worship will sink to, that friends becoming enraged at a friend's unjust murder from a warlord is being portrayed as something sad for the warlord? Just what else should Edelgard be pitied for?

- "The scared girl desperately tried to drown out the thoughts that reverberated incessantly. / They’re going to despise us…it’s destiny. And how could they not? If we were truly good, the Goddess would have saved us…protected us. But She didn’t. The Goddess took Mother. She took our family. And soon, She’ll take everything else we love. She hates us. / It’s what we deserve." - Now confirmed that Edelgard hears multiple voices in her head tormenting her. That trait that, once again, Edelgard does not have... (Strikes against canon: 97)

- ...but Dimitri does. This is the third time this chapter that this has happened, and far from the only chapter to display such baffling characterization of Edelgard via Dimitri's traits. It is nonsensical.

- " Why had [Edelgard] even been born at all? Nonexistence would have been preferable to watching every faint dream be dashed, to suffering alone over and over. She was just…so tired of being alive." -> Once. Again. Suicidal tendencies/thoughts is not a trait Edelgard shows in canon... (Strikes against canon: 98)

- ...but Dimitri does. The fourth! The fourth time in one chapter the author desperately wanted to just write Dimitri!

- If the fic wanted to take Edelgard in a different direction than canon does and has her display some of these traits, it would be more passable, but this fic is under the delusion that it is in any way following canon closely, especially in regards to Edelgard, and so this can only be seen as a desperate attempt from the author to have Edelgard be sympathetic by donning the skin of an actually sympathetic character such as Dimitri

- "Edelgard looked at herself in the mirror. The back of her academy uniform was stained red, the rhythmic, soft dripping of blood assaulting the princess’ ears." -> And no one commented on this? No one was worried? Not Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix, who were sitting right by her? Not Lysithea, who saw her take the blow to her back and never get it healed? Not Dimitri, who delivered the blow? It just so happened that literally no one at all noticed this?

- Byleth literally slapped Edelgard on the back earlier? Wouldn't her hand come back red with blood if it were seeping through the uniform?

** The scene that follows the previous note is too long to quote, despite how truly terrible it is. Long quotes, even extremely long quotes, have been presented in these notes before, but the length this quotation would be if the full extent of it were written here would be a mess, and quite frankly, at that point it would do one better to simply go to the fanfiction itself and read the text from there. With the context received from these notes, if one wishes to see the words for themselves, go to chapter 21 of The Emperor and the Goddess, enter Ctrl + F (or Find in Page on mobile devices), and enter the phrase "Byleth crossed her arms, clearly frustrated" verbatim. The following note will not be quoting the entire scene from the fic (merely summarizing it), though context is needed to understand how truly bad the scene is. **

- To have hope in this fic performing anything correctly is proving to be a fool's dream, for it has yet to do anything right; that includes the aforementioned gash upon Edelgard's back. As stated, it did not draw the attention of those who were sitting around her nor did it draw the attention of the one who witnessed the injury itself, nor of the one who delivered the injury itself, so no one commented on the gaping, bleeding wound Edelgard was "hiding" from everyone as she turned her (bleeding) back to them and left for the baths to clean up (it must be heavily stressed: immediately after leaving it is revealed that the blood is seeping through her uniform). As she was washing - naked, of course - Byleth just so happened to step into the baths with only a towel wrapped around her "for modesty," much to the horror of Edelgard, for she does not want Byleth seeing her scarred body. A slight argument arises between the two over Edelgard getting her injuries checked, before Byleth warns Edelgard that she will go to Rhea and force her to go to the infirmary should Edelgard continue to refuse treatment, which drives Edelgard past the brink. She raises her arms from the bathwater and presents her scars (""Fine!... If you want to see so badly, here!""), to the horror of Byleth ("Byleth Eisner was not a woman given to strong emotional reactions, but she staggered back, hands over her mouth."). Edelgard cries in hysteria, fear of her beloved teacher running away in disgust over her ugly, mutilated body overwhelming her. But Byleth, childlike in her innocence, shared that she too is scarred in strange ways, and that she too is scared of failing those around her - that she has no ambitions save to help and protect those around her. Byleth reveals that it is Edelgard whom Byleth looks up to for always being so strong and always moving forward, and shows that without Edelgard Byleth wouldn't know how to handle the pressure everyone else puts on her. The exchange ends with Byleth reassuring Edelgard that she is beautiful and not the monster she thinks she is.

- There is no nice way of putting this: this is a classic example of how not to write someone opening up to another about something. Edelgard views herself as weak, ugly, repulsive, a monster, shameful, but it is Byleth's love and affection that gives her comfort and warmth, that gives her hope of something more. It forces Byleth to behave wildly out of character (the author can try to excuse this with "well she wouldn't normally behave like this!" all he wants, it doesn't matter when it goes against the base, canonical Byleth. Strikes against canon: 99) in order for Edelgard's scarred body to be seen as something that is repulsive, that is ugly, that is stained, so much so that the pure, childlike, innocent Byleth couldn't stand to see something so tainted. And yet it is that same pure, childlike, innocent Byleth's pure, innocent, childlike love that pushes away the pain of Edelgard's scars for just that moment. Other characters become suddenly blind and/or forgetful of Edelgard's obvious, bleeding wound so that it is Byleth who can be the one to save Edelgard with her pure, innocent, childlike presence and her pure, innocent, childlike uncertainty about her own insecurities (but only when it is convenient for Edelgard, as even Byleth didn't noticed the gaping, bleeding wound until she was alone with Edelgard where no one could interrupt their bonding moment). This scene is inorganic and forced, ham-fisting Edelgard and Byleth in the same room - the wash room, where both are either naked or nearly naked - so that Byleth is the one to find Edelgard, no one else. No one was worried enough about the sudden exit Edelgard took from the conversation she was having to follow her and make sure she was alright, and Byleth just so happened to enter the baths right after Edelgard. The scene is, to be frank, insulting.

- There have been a couple of joking references to a book titled Stones to Abigail in these notes, but in all seriousness, this scene plays unsettlingly similar to a scene in said book, where a scarred girl who is naked reveals her "ugly" and "revolting" scarred body to the love interest, who goes on to soothe and comfort the naked girl as best they can. The resemblance is uncanny

- Byleth described as childlike/innocent. Counter: 5

- Edelgard, in canon, never expresses feeling herself to be ugly, or repulsive, or a monster. Strikes against canon: 100

- Again, Edelgard's scars are only important when they are convenient - this time, in helping develop the romantic relationship between her and Byleth

- There are ways in which scars can be utilized without being problematic, but certainly not when this much focus is placed on them and yet they are only truly present when they cannot hinder Edelgard.

- Perhaps particularly insulting is this phrase from Edelgard: "Did she actually love Byleth at all, or just being saved by her?" Yes, Edelgard, you do simply want to be saved by Byleth, because that is precisely what the narrative has been drilling into the reader's heads ever since Byleth showed herself. Byleth is Edelgard's light, Byleth is Edelgard's hope, Byleth gives Edelgard back her humanity, Byleth is Edelgard's one source of joy, Byleth is Edelgard's entire life, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this fic has shown this to ever be a bad thing. This dependence on Byleth to bring Edelgard joy at the near complete expense of everyone else has been propped up as something romantic, and yet it's now, 21 chapters and over 85K+ words in, that we're supposed to believe that this was actually Edelgard being unhealthy? Even though the author himself said that this was what he enjoyed about their relationship, how much they found each other in each other? Even though we see what the author thinks would happen to the two of them should they separate - Edelgard, lonely and afraid without her beloved teach, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon who cares for nothing without her beloved student - in her visions of SS? This is a joke

- It cannot be overstated that Byleth came to the bathhouses completely independently of Edelgard. She did not come to specifically see her because she followed her out of worry for Edelgard due to her injury - she only knows that Edelgard's injured in the first place due to seeing bloody bandages that Edelgard removed in the bathhouse, before Byleth arrived.

- Author's notes: "On Bergliez, we find out very little in-game, but he 1) offers himself for execution so his men can go free in SS and 2) seems to be actually competent at his job. I thought a nuanced portrayal was more interesting, since I've been writing Aegir as the absolute worst person in the world." -> Note: this is what the author believes to be a nuanced take on someone. Someone who likes Edelgard entirely and does nearly whatever they can to help her, but they did one thing that's morally gray (leaving a child behind to save his own children from the same fate) that is portrayed as objectively bad, so now they are nuanced. While perhaps this sort of character would be truly nuanced in better hands, as it is with his actions being portrayed as something that is obviously so completely and utterly wrong and him someone who deserves complete and utter condemnation - and yet Ionius, who does far worse for far less understandable reasons, gets a comparative slap on the wrist - it causes confusion as to Edelgard's lines. Bergliez seeing her the one time and never helping her is enough for her to want to hurt him as she was hurt, but her father repeatedly coming to and "being forced" to watch her actively be tortured and doing nothing does little to invoke similar depths of resentment? Even granting the idea that "she gives more slack to her father," Ionius is objectively and far worse than Bergliez, down to doing hard things to protect their children, and yet it is only Bergliez who is shined in this unpleasant a light

- To be clear, Bergliez's decision was not a good one, but understandable. It is a gray decision to make. But notice how he is called "gray" and "nuanced" and yet Ionius is nearly completely innocent, as described by the author himself, despite their being no given explaination as to why "he was a figurehead" should be a good enough reason to wash him literally standing there and watching as his children - some of whom aren't even teens yet - get slowly tortured and killed.

- "There are many localization changes I understand (Byleth wanting to get drunk after the battle is one of them), but Treehouse's decision to remove Ionius' entire reason for power centralization (eliminating the consorts) was a big, big mistake." -> Given the history of this author's grasp on the Japanese language, this needs to be checked, as he cannot be trusted as a source as to whether this is true

******* Notes of Claude mischaracterization: Chapter 21, section 1, paragraphs 1, 21 & 23, 27 *******

#o captain my captain #is the Cap'n's name fuckin' Greg holy shit #this chapter was baaaaad #b-but hey maybe i'm just being overly critical?

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ckneal · 3 years

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There’s a midam AU idea that’s been living in the back of my mind for months now, but it’s been slow going. Mainly because I suspect that doing the idea justice is going to mean doing more research than I’m used to, and maybe even rewatching the series proper to help me fill in some of the weak spots, and I have so many other story ideas that are frankly just easier to work on, two of which are already slated to be multi-chapter works. . . But I’m in the mood to type up something longwinded, so here we go. Keep reading if you’d like to see a rough outline of the first few chapters of this story I really hope to write out properly sometime.

(Warning, this is a long one.)

So, this story is loosely based on the Hundred Years War that took place between England and France from 1337-1453. But it’s only very loosely inspired. Very, very loosely. As in, I was reading a book, I read about one thing that happened, it germinated in my head, and then suddenly I had a plot developing that featured my current favorite ship. Additional sources of inspiration include one of my favorite fantasy series, and a personally beloved trashy romance novel. Because it’s fanfiction, folks. There are no rules here.

Of course, in this AU, the entire world is going to be made up, with neither side of the war distinctly being assigned the role of England or France—or Flanders or Burgundy, for that matter. I barrowed an inciting incident, and few smaller details from history to help things along here and there, but with no regard for keeping all the French things assigned to one group and the English ones to another.

That said, the inciting incident took its inspiration from the Battle of Poiters, a conflict during which England not only won against the French, but also took their king hostage. King Jean II was later ransomed back to his people, but at a sum that was so high, France could not afford to pay it all at once. England still returned France’s king, but new hostages were provided to serve as collateral during the interim, including the King’s son.

So. . .crown Prince Michael Shurley completely decimates King John Winchester on the battlefield, and sends his demands to John’s queen, Mary Winchester. The two kingdoms have been locked in a territory dispute for several decades, and this is one of the more humiliating events to befall the smaller kingdom yet, especially since they are unable to meet all of Michael’s demands. When the Winchesters begrudgingly admit this to the Shurley representatives, they’re caught off guard when they’re offered a trade: John Winchester will be returned, so long Dean Winchester takes his place as collateral.

Things are less than stable in the Winchester kingdom however, with more than a few factions quietly scheming for power. John and Mary were an arranged marriage that was originally held up like a fairytale when the two seemingly fell madly in love during their mandated courtship, but the years afterward had changed them. Civil unrest sparked by the war had brought out a lot of disagreements between the Winchesters and the Campbells and their approaches to governing.

John’s supporters are the ones to step forward with a plan, and convince Mary that it’s vitally important the people are not alarmed by their king’s capture. Mary initially finds it distasteful, but it’s talked around and adjusted and reframed, as John’s people ferret out more and more information about the vital party involved, until she finally agrees.

Because John Winchester just happened to have a bastard son. The resemblance to Dean might not be particularly remarkable, but no one at the Shurley court has ever seen the Winchester heir before. Plus, Adam Milligan has spent the entirety of his teen years studying to become a physician, of all things. He’s perfect for their purposes.

Ten years prior, the Shurley court had had to deal with its own bout of civil unrest, when King Chuck Shurley’s second eldest son had attempted to overthrow him with the support of several nobles from one the kingdom’s richest providences. Lucifer had allegedly been driven into exile following his defeat, and Chuck had been said to have contracted some sort of mysterious illness. According to rumors, the king had shut himself up in his private chambers and refused to admit anyone apart from his remaining children. Even servants were barred from tending him directly.

They snatch Adam away from his studies and force him into compliance by dusting off an archaic law left over from before the start of the war, when the kingdom relied on a conscription military force rather than a standing army full of career military professionals—this law empowering the crown to call on any of its citizens for a minimum forty days of military service per year. They tell Adam that his mission seems more dangerous than it is—really, all he has to do is pretend to be Dean, and use his medical knowledge to figure out exactly what mysterious illness has bedridden the enemy monarch.

Sam and Dean—the proverbial heir and spare of the kingdom—are not at court to meet their younger brother, when he’s hastily fitted for a royal wardrobe and put through a crash course on court etiquette. Sam is very publicly put on display at a holiday festival in another part of the kingdom, while Dean is sent orders to quietly stay behind at a country estate while his valet, Kevin Tran, is sent on to court. Neither of the princes is told about the plan until after Adam has already been shipped out, with Kevin in toe to help Adam along with the impersonation.

No one involved is in anyway comfortable with the mission. But it was only supposed to be for forty days. Adam was assured that the necessary funds to pay off the ransom would either be raised by the end of the minimum mandated service, or they would make contact to extract him. The Campbells and the Winchesters both allegedly had spies in the Shurley court, and they would make themselves known when the time was right.

Adam is given the impression that the latter had been told to him with the intention of making him feel safer. It did not work.

He’s terrified when he arrives—almost would have preferred being promptly thrown into a dungeon upon arrival, instead of a room full of foreign nobility who one and all give off the impression that if cut they’d bleed straight silver, and look at “Dean,” the hostage prince and purported military genius from the tiny, vicious country across the channel, as a curiosity to be studied. He’s assigned two guards (who I decided will be Anael and Samandriel, based entirely on the tags I threw together at then end of this post, during which I decided that I love these three together), who follow him around relentlessly, but beyond that, he’s. . .pretty much treated like a guest. If a stiflingly monitored one. There are limitations on where he can go and what he can do, but for the most part he’s just sort of. . .there.

Most unnerving of all, however, is the small package that Adam finds in his room when he first settles in. Kevin swears he has no idea who left it. It has the Campbell’s insignia clearly worked into the pattern of the paper it’s wrapped in, and inside he finds a knife small enough to conceal on his person, and a number of different herbs and powders that he recognizes from his studies—though of course, he’s more familiar with remedies to counteract their effects.

In other words, he finds an assassin’s-first-kill-job kit, and instructions on how and when to use it, if opportunity arises. This had not been part of the deal when Adam reluctantly signed on.

Unbeknownst to Adam however—though suspected by some parties in the Winchester court—Adam cannot assassinate Chuck Shurley, because Chuck is not there. Shortly after Lucifer’s insurrection, Chuck had quietly disappeared. Michael had only been a teenager at the time. He invented the story about Chuck being ill on impulse, certain that Chuck would be back sooner than later, and Raphael had gone along with it because, being twelve years old, Raphael was not yet old enough to question Michael’s judgement. It is now an awkward point between them.

Adam soon becomes another.

Michael regularly checks in to see how Adam’s getting on, in a way that Kevin assures Adam is entirely appropriate, since Michael is under the impression that Adam is going to be a fellow monarch someday, and is likely trying to be courteous. Adam inherently feels somewhat flustered around Michael though, which is not helped by the fact that Michael is somehow always present whenever Adam puts his foot in his mouth socially. On more than one occasion, he’s thankful that almost no one has actually been to his homeland, allowing Adam to blame an astonishing number of fuck ups on cultural differences.

Michael and Adam’s early one on one interaction are intensely awkward. Adam will forget to wear gloves, and then Michael will comment that Adam’s hands are oddly devoid of callouses for someone who’d practically been raised with a sword in his hand, leaving Adam to scramble for some flimsy excuse about hand cream. Adam will inquisitively ask questions about what sort of illness would be severe enough to leave someone bedridden for a decade but not kill them in that time (Kevin frantically motioning over Michael’s shoulder to convey that that is NOT the right way to fish for details on such a sensitive subject), and Michael will struggle to find an excuse around the quietly bubbling panic, because he hasn’t had to try to explain anything about his father since that first year, and he is not a particularly gifted liar.

And then there’s Raphael.

Unlike Michael, Raphael is suspicious of “Dean” right from the start, pulling Michael aside to point out things that don’t seem quite right according to what their informants have told them about Dean Winchester.

“Doesn’t he look a bit young?”

“Some people look younger than they are, Raphael.”

“I was told Dean Winchester had dark hair.”

“Dark blond is dark.”

“Aren’t his eyes supposed to be green?”

“They’re obviously blue.”

“That’s exactly my point.”

The forty days come and go with Adam and Kevin nervously waiting for some sort of sign from home. Roughly two weeks later, a messenger arrives with unexpected news for Michael’s court: the Campbells have officially broken ties with the Winchesters in a violent bid for power that has left the kingdom at war with itself.

According to Kevin, the civil war has probably slowed things down a bit, if it’s as bad as the rumors say. . .

Adam and Kevin are stranded.

“Don’t worry though—I know Dean, and he knows our necks are on the line. He’ll keep out of sight until they manage to get us out of here.”

Adam finds it difficult to put faith in the virtues of a brother he’s never met, but doesn’t have it in him to question Kevin’s faith. He worries about his mother, who might have been safe in the countryside, but also might have made the trek to the capitol when it came out that Adam had been abducted for the sake of persevering the royal family's throne. He can’t be sure.

And to top it off, Michael takes to stopping by Adam’s room every couple of days to privately talk about the movements of the various factions—who has been sighted where and in what condition, where they’re rumored to be headed. Adam interprets it as an attempt to shake out inside information. One day, Adam finally tries to set him straight by saying it doesn’t matter how many ugly details Michael throws at him, Adam can’t help him because he doesn’t know anything—and is promptly put to shame when Michael looks at him in surprise and says, “You misunderstand. I assumed that you would want to know these things, because they are your family.”

Michael leaves, and Adam’s guards exchange a look. When asked, Samandriel awkwardly tells Adam that the royal family used to have a fourth child. Gabriel. He was lost during Lucifer’s insurrection. Pirates overtook his ship. They’d never received a ransom. Michael had purportedly offered a standing reward for any news of Gabriel, and put an unwise amount of resources into searching for him until it threatened the war effort.

Adam and Michael start talking more frequently from there, starting with an apology on Adam’s part. It’s tricky at first, because Michael starts out asking questions about Dean Winchester's military exploits—it is the most likely common ground between them, after all—and Adam has to hastily change the subject every time. By the two month mark, they’re talking affably, and rumors start to circulate through the courts as Michael's routine check ins on Adam start getting less formal and more frequent.

On the four month mark, rumors get even worse. Raphael finally sits Michael down and really gets into all of the things about “Dean” that don’t add up, item by item. If he’s trying to pretend he doesn’t know anything about his country’s military exploits, he’s far too convincing given his reported record, and Raphael has it on good authority that more than half of those “cultural differences” in etiquette that keep cropping up are completely unfounded—and look here, three different informants have sent lists of Dean Winchester’s physical characteristics, and the foreign prince DOES NOT MATCH.

“Michael, something is not right here.”

“Fine, I’ll talk to him about it now.”

And Michael storms off to address “Dean,” while Raphael calls after him that he should wait until morning. Because it is the middle of the night.

Adam just happens to be up reading. Michael’s familiar with the book. Michael gets distracted, and they talk all night. The sun’s coming up when Michael finally leaves, and a servant happens to see him slipping out of Adam’s room. Suggestive conjectures promptly follow, and Raphael exasperatedly admits they only have themself to blame.

And this only gets worse, because now Adam and Michael have transitioned into being friends. No more guarded conversations where one is convinced the other is about to catch them in some sort of lie. When Raphael mentions that some of the lesser nobles are starting to think Michael and Adam are courting, Michael’s fidgeting is not at all lost on them, as Michael assures them that of course that isn't the case. He and Dean are merely establishing friendly relations that will serve them well down the road politically—

“After the war is over?”

“Of course, after the war is over.”

Adam’s been stranded in the Shurley court for almost a year by the time that he finally slips into his room and sees a sealed message set out on his bed. Adam doesn’t recognize the insignia as belonging to either the Winchesters or the Campbells, but it’s signed with the initials “SW” at the bottom. It mostly contains a lot of vague phrases that make Adam wonder if he was supposed to be versed in some sort of code. As far as he’s concerned, the only important information comes at the end: Kate Milligan has been safely relocated for the duration of the civil war.

Relieved, Adam goes down to dinner, where some sort of seasonal holiday is being celebrated, and has a bit more wine than he normally would. The Shurley court is one of those stuffy courts where seating is stiffly dictated by tradition. As a foreign prince, Adam’s assigned seat is at the same table as Michael, although, according to Kevin, his placement's much further down due to his being a hostage. After a few drinks, and after most of the nobles have cleared off from the table to talk and celebrate elsewhere in the hall, Adam sees no reason not to get up and relocate down the line of chairs to sit closer to Michael. It was against the rules, but Adam was aware enough not to sit in Raphael’s empty seat, and he’d been seen with Michael so often that Anael and Samandriel barely even blinked, because Adam obviously wasn’t about to attack their prince or anything.

However, it is worth noting that while talking to Adam, Michael consumes a decent amount more wine than he would normally have as well.

Later that night, Michael’s walking Adam back to his room, and he starts to comment that Adam seems happier than usual. But even when sober, Michael would struggle to say something like that—if he’d even attempt it while sober—and Adam winds up biting his lip as he watches Michael’s mounting embarrassment, as a simple compliment inexplicably morphs—words seemingly forcing their way out as Michael tries and utterly fails to stop them—into a compliment about how Adam is beautiful—that is, he’s always beautiful—that is, Michael can’t help noticing Adam most days—that is. . .

. . .Michael is adorable. And in a moment of pure, thoughtless impulse, Adam leans in and kisses Michael right there in the corridor.

Michael is profoundly shocked, and his reaction delayed. Adam had only gone in intending to briefly press his lips against Michael’s, but as he’s pulling away Michael abruptly leans in and reseals the kiss, and Adam in turn takes that as an invitation to pull Michael closer. And a few minutes later, Raphael happens to walk down the hallway and find the two of them enthusiastically kissing against the wall.

And Raphael promptly turns around and goes back the way they came, only stopping at one point to flag down a servant and order them not to let anyone else walk down that particular corridor for at least an hour, hoping that Michael and Adam’s “friendly relations” wouldn’t result in anything too inappropriate.

As it happens, nothing particularly inappropriate happens. Nonetheless, Michael still wakes up the next morning, fully clothed in his own bed, in panic because the first thought to distinctly make its way through the ungodly pain in his head is that he’d taken liberties with a guest the night before. The heir to a foreign power at that, a peer, a hostage! Michael never thought he was capable of something so dishonorable--he’d had Dean pressed up against the wall as if they were a couple of ill-bred urchins, and how does one even go about apologizing for something like that?

(Of course, if Michael were thinking clearly, he might have remembered that Adam had actually been the one to back himself up against the wall, with Michael obligingly following along, quite malleable to whatever positioning Adam wanted so long as Adam kept kissing him.)

Michael’s behavior was beyond unacceptable. If his father hadn’t already abandoned them, he’d likely disown Michael out of pure shame. There was no telling what kind of damage he’d done to the relationship between their kingdoms. At best, Michael’s uncouth actions would be a dirty secret between them in the years to come, after Dean married, and Michael was left barely able to look Dean’s spouse in the eye. If Michael were a lesser noble, his parents might demand he married Dean outright.

And suddenly Michael sat up in bed, realizing he could marry Dean. His mind begins racing, because of course he could marry Dean! It made perfect sense. They enjoyed each other’s company, and with both of them being heir to their respective kingdoms, their union would effectively end the war. It might be complicated—especially given some of the odd customs Dean had introduced to Michael’s court—but marriages had been used to cemented alliances often enough, and the thought of marrying Dean elicited a curiously hot feeling in Michael’s stomach, remembering the way Adam had pulled him close the night before.

(Fun fact, England and France actually did try to do this with the Treaty of Troyes in 1420; it did not go as planned.)

Michael goes through the rest of his day in an uncharacteristically upbeat mindset, because now it all seems to just be a matter of organizing things, and he is good at organizing. He would have to write to either John or Mary Winchester as soon as the situation in their kingdom settled, and formally ask for Dean’s hand, and he and Dean should have a chaperone present at all times moving forward to avoid scandal--though there would be no way to sidestep scandal altogether, of course. Adam was still technically Michael’s prisoner.

More than likely, the Winchesters or Campbells would demand Michael relinquish his claim to at least half of the territories that they’d spent the last few decades fighting over, but that would be fine. It’s traditional in Michael’s country to give gifts to one’s in-laws, and Dean is a future monarch. Anything too little would be insulting, and all would be consolidated eventually when Dean and Michael assumed their respective thrones. . .

Michael is still walking around delightfully living in his own head when Raphael pulls him into an empty room to discuss what they witnessed the night before. While not the most shocking scenario they could have imagined, they were not expecting to hear their brother announce that he and Dean Winchester would be getting married.

“And how are we to explain away our father’s absence during the proceedings, Michael?”

Michael’s good mood promptly withers. Because of course Chuck would be expected to play some part in arranging his son’s wedding. Ill or not, at the very least, he would be expected to make an appearance at the wedding. To have no part in it at all would be suspicious, not to mention rude.

While Raphael intended to snap Michael back to his senses, they had not meant to shake Michael into an immediate depression. They try for a gentler tone.

“You know, Michael. Our father has been gone for over a decade. He left no formal plans, he's sent no word. By any standard, he's abdicated. Perhaps this isn’t the right time to introduce a political marriage. Perhaps we should consider your assuming the kingship, and then come back around to formalizing your relationship with Dean—”

Michael, of course, is against this. Because their father is alive, and he will come back, and it will not be to find that another one of his sons had greedily tried to usurp the throne.

Seeing Michael about to fall back onto a familiar tangent, Raphael chooses the lesser of two evils and takes the conversation back to “Dean.” They ask which out of the two of them proposed to the other.

Michael abruptly realizes that he's forgotten something.

Meanwhile, Adam starts his morning on a much happier note. His headache is less punishing than Michael’s, and while feeling the normal amount of embarrassment that comes with drinking a little too much, the feeling does not extend to kissing Michael. His mother’s safe, he’s nailing his Dean impression, and Michael apparently likes him. Things could not be better. Until Adam remembers how the latter two items on that list are linked.

Michael is not like a classmate back home, who he could chat up, get a drink with, and maybe start seeing regularly if all things went well. Michael is, in fact, the acting ruler of one of the most powerful countries in the world, which just so happens to be at war with Adam’s, and under the explicit impression that Adam is similarly situated in the world.

Adam promptly begins freaking out.

And then Michael finds him.

Adam’s in the library at the time. Michael walks in and quietly dismisses Adam’s guards, and Kevin, leaving the two of them completely alone. Adam doesn’t realize what Michael’s doing right away, though he’s spent enough time with Michael to recognize how nervous he is as he starts talking about a proposal to end the war—selling the idea, as if Michael wouldn’t be enough on his own—and then sheepishly tapering into the idea that both he and Adam seem to have feelings for one another. And if Adam were able to go back in time and strangle his tipsy past self, he would, because then he wouldn’t have to see the look on Michael’s face when he says no.

And no, Michael does not understand.

Adam can hear years of living in the public eye at work in Michael voice, as he just manages to keep his voice level in asking, “Even if it would mean peace?”

"I'm sorry, I just—I can't."

". . .I see."

Michael excuses himself, and Adam collapses onto a couch, assuring himself that no was the only right answer, and he shouldn’t feel terrible—which, of course, since Adam’s spent the last couple of months flirting with Michael while posing as someone else, is not an easy idea to buy into.

Michael and Adam avoid eye contact at dinner, even as Raphael—who has zero doubts as to who initiated what the night before—practically burns holes into Adam’s skin with the looks they shoot down the table.

And then a messenger comes in. One of the wealthiest duchies in the kingdom (the same one that had once supported Lucifer, and of course would be populated with demon characters in the narrative) has declared its independence, having formed an alliance with the Campbells, and has launched an attack not far from the castle. Several villages have already been attacked along the way. Michael accompanies the armed forces he sends out to quash the uprising.

Raphael is left behind to fortify the castle and take in the refugees, who the messenger assured them are not far behind. Unlike Michael, Raphael rarely saw combat. Officially, it was because Raphael had adamantly insisted on training as a healer rather than a warrior, which was true enough. Unofficially though, Michael and Raphael are both fully aware that if anything happened to Michael, Raphael is the only one left to inherent the crown.

Samandirel and Anael escort Adam back to his room. Samandriel assures Adam that no one thinks he had anything to do with the duchy double crossing them, but it would probably just be safer for Adam to stay out of sight until things calm down. Anael is more closed-lipped about the situation.

From his window, Adam watches the first of the villagers come trickling in, and even from his vantage point he can make out burn wounds, makeshift bandages and hastily thrown together tourniquets, and he’s in hell, because it seems the only two options in front of him are to worry about Michael, or feel absolutely sick with guilt because he’s a trained physician and he should be down there helping.

Finally he pokes his head out into the corridor and asks if someone can find Kevin for him. Anael raises an eyebrow that “Dean,” who’s usually inordinately self-suffice for a prince, is suddenly insisting that he needs to see his manservant, but Samandriel is already helpfully heading down the hall. A few minutes later, Kevin is in Adam’s room, confused, as Adam asks him to take off his clothes.

“You can have mine, just switch with me, okay?”

“Uuh. . . Don’t you think mine will be a little tight on you—”

“Less talk! Strip!”

Michael had probably errored in assigning the same two guards to watch over Adam. After a year, the three of them had gotten to be on fairly familiar terms. Adam waited until Samandriel started to get chatty, and slipped quietly out of his room when Anael was distracted—neither of them having had any reason to think Adam would try to escape, because he had been nothing but compliant since the day he arrived.

From there, he goes straight to the infirmary.

Raphael had set up tents in the courtyard to accommodate the high number of people in need of care. Adam was a year out of practice, but the atmosphere was still familiar to him, and he slipped into the chaos unnoticed. Raphael doesn’t notice him until they are well into the thick of things, and Adam’s as covered in grime and gore as anyone else present. Adam had just gone for more bandages and the two of them nearly ran into each other, and for a split second Adam thinks Raphael just might not recognize him until hand closes around his arm like a vice.

“What exactly are YOU doing here?”

Then Raphael notices the stitches Adam had just finished putting in for his latest patient—and Adam’s stitchwork is immaculate, not the clumsy, half-hazard work of a solider who picked up the mechanics of it over the course of their career.

"YOU did that?"

Adam starts to fumble out an answer, but they are interrupted because then Michael is being brought in. The fighting is over. Raphael and Adam promptly drop everything.

Michael has a concussion. He’s also been lightly stabbed. You know, just lightly. Needs stitches though. Raphael is adamant that Adam leave immediately, but Michael, who is delirious, sees Adam and absolutely refuses to let Raphael send him away. Raphael winds up patching Michael together while Adam—annoyingly, to Raphael—is sat next to him, holding Michael’s hand. Adam winds up sitting next to Michael all night, because it’s the only way to keep Michael from getting up and tearing his stitches like a feverish moron.

Initially, Raphael refuses to leave too, not trusting their brother’s suspiciously competent love interest, whose family was purportedly allied with the traitors who’d just attacked their people. There are still more wounded to tend to, however, and Raphael begrudgingly has to step away—making sure to leave orders that a guard be present in the room the entire time that Raphael is gone.

Little does Raphael know, Adam would have lowkey given a limb to have Raphael stay. Michael’s demeanor is a lot less closed off when he’s feverish and concussed. Shortly after Raphael leaves, Michael starts apologizing for proposing earlier, and Adam feels like he’s been stabbed in the gut. And as he’s lying there, looking at Adam’s hand in his, Michael starts saying things he would not normally blurt out—like that ending the war was not the main reason he wanted to marry Adam, because the last year has been the best he can remember, and it is entirely due to spending time with Adam—even if Adam was only there by obligation—and he would do anything to make Adam happy, even if they weren’t together—and Adam is just stuck there, highkey dying on the inside.

Then Michael sees his face.

"I apologize, you’ve already said you do not want to marry me, I should not have brought this up—”

Michael starts to get out of bed completely unconcerned about his stab wounds, and as Adam’s pushing him back down, the words “That’s not true!” just sort of. . .fly out.

Then Michael’s suddenly looking at Adam, and his face is suddenly very sober, and Adam can feel his own face turning red.

"That is, I. . ." Adam realizes, suddenly, that he’s fucked. Telling Michael the truth is somehow both the right and wrong thing to do at the same time, and Michael is definitely in no condition to hear it either way. “How about, if you still want to marry me when all this is over, then I’ll say yes?”

The next morning is a string of stressful events for Adam. Raphael shooed him out of Michael room at dawn, and Adam went straight back to his own. Kevin, Samandriel, and Anael had all been reprimanded for Adam’s escape, with the latter two being replaced as Adam’s guard under Raphael’s orders. His first interaction with Ishim and Maribel does not bode well for them becoming friends.

When Adam tells Kevin that he’s thinking about coming clean to Michael, Kevin panics. News from the Winchesters had dried up weeks ago, even for Michael and Raphael’s sources. Kevin argues that they’d be better off attempting to escape on their own if the charade was getting to be too much for Adam, especially after last night—but even then, they should wait awhile longer. Why take any chances right now? And Adam doesn’t know how to go about explaining the why. . .

And it gets taken out of his hands anyway, when they step out of the room and find that it’s somehow leaked that Adam and Michael—who had completely misunderstood what Adam meant by “when all this is over”—are engaged.

Kevin doesn’t get another moment alone with Adam to discuss how stupidly dangerous this whole situation is, and Adam, no matter how hard he tries—can’t seem to get a moment alone with his fiancé to try to explain that the situation is not what he thinks it is. Everyone had vastly underestimated how far the rumors about Michael and Adam secretly courting had gone, and Adam can barely take three steps without a noble or courtier or someone pulling him aside to offer their congratulations, and as Adam gets closer to Michael’s chambers, there’s Raphael, circling like a shark and Adam does not want to make his confession to Raphael before he sees Michael.

Come dinner time, Adam finds that his seat had been reassigned. He now sits directly to Michael’s left. He keeps trying to convince Michael to step out into the hall with him for a second, while Raphael, seated in their normal place to Michael’s right, continuously circumvents him, firmly believing that Adam has done more than enough in private.

Then there’s a scream. A servant comes running out into the dining hall, carrying a bloody knife. They run up to Michael—up until the guards step forward to stop her, but she’s not attacking. Instead she hands over the knife and says that she found in the corridor outside the king’s chambers. She had been worried, so she broke protocol and went in. The king’s bed was drenched in blood.

Adam looks over and feels a chill when he recognizes the same knife that had been included in the murder kit he found in his room on day one.

If Raphael had looked up, Adam had no doubt that Raphael would have read something in his face, but they didn’t get the chance to. Michael and Raphael are busy staring at each, the only ones in the room who know beyond any doubt that the implication could not be true, because there had not been anyone in that bed to assassinate in over ten years. Neither of them is given the chance to try to spin the knife’s implications in any direction, however. While the court is still reeling in shocked silence, a guard walks in—completely oblivious—and announces that a messenger has arrived with urgent news.

Adam looks up, and finds he has room to panic more, when he sees Anna Milton walk in, a serving maid in the Winchester court, and as she drops a curtsey to Michael, she identifies herself as one of Raphael’s spies. She had held her place in the Winchester court for as long as she could, but when her real identity had been uncovered she’d had no choice but to flee, and she’s come with monumental news. The civil war across the channel has ended, the Campbells having been forced to seek asylum with their allies outside the kingdom, John Winchester deposed, and Dean Winchester installed on the throne in his place. She had witnessed his coronation herself the very day they identified her.

And Adam feels very cold, as if his blood had actually managed to turn into ice, which would have explained why he couldn’t seem to move, as every eye in the room immediately turns to him.

And that would be the end of part one.

#midam #adam milligan #supernatural michael #samandriel #supernatural raphael #anael #kevin tran #my thougths #i'm very tempted to throw jack in a joan-of-arc-inspired role

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