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#i’ve gone from rage to enjoying the farce
panakina · 8 months
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At this point I’m watching Gotham war just to see what chaos happens next, but i kind of love that thirty seconds after batman’s Plan To Save Jason by making him incapable of self defence every single rogue in the city knows about it and Jason has back to back run ins with scarecrow and the joker while inside a burning building.
You could not have fucked this up more, bruce.
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shreddedparchment · 5 years
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Pseudo Princess Pt.18
A Step Forward
11/27/2019
Pairing: King!Steve x Reader          Word Count: 6,213
Warnings: angst, fluff, language, jealousy
A/N: This one is a lot of dialogue. I mean, most of my chapters are but this one especially. Hopefully this sheds some light on what happened. These two still have a lot of work to do and hopefully this is the last big hiccup they have. Maybe? Who knows?!! lol Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter. I really like writing these two together after so much time of them being at odds. If you happen to reblog, thanks for helping me spread my work! xoxo
TAGS FOR THIS STORY ARE CLOSED!
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Steve is teetering upon the edge of slumber. His mind is racing, replaying the moment he'd messed the night up over and over.
You’re smiling at him. Happy. Happier than he's ever made you and then he steps in it. He tells the entire Great Hall about your problems and he doesn’t know why he just can’t stop talking.
He knows that he should. He knows that he needs to stop but staring at you, cherishing the brightness in your eyes—the love he thought he’d driven out of you—it all just comes spilling out.
He wants them to know that he doesn’t deserve you. That you’re amazing and kind and sweet and gentle and regal and forgiving and desirable and you’re his!
Somehow after everything, you’re his. Still.
He tries to play off your anger and it does lighten the mood in the room. Everyone seems to settle, and they don’t take it all as seriously as they probably should.
He can see you softening, that small hint of hope slips out and that little bead in your belly is not only the kingdom’s future but both your futures. Proof of the good that the two of you can create and somehow, you’ve allowed him to be blessed.
The body he'd ravaged cruelly, you turned his weakness into strength. You’re growing his baby. Both your baby. Precious. How can the baby not be when they’ll be half of you?
It spills out of him before he can stop it and he sees the rage in you return.
Then the two of you fight in your room and he says all the wrong things. Things he doesn’t mean. Things that slip from his stupid privileged tongue that he can’t take back.
Sarah Rogers would be disappointed in him. He knows it.
Like an idiot, he leaves you. He stops in his room and squeezes his hands into fists. He punches the wall by the door, and it cracks and crumbles.
“Fuck.” He sighs, defeated.
Why does he always mess up with you? He'll fix it in the morning. Because even if he went to you now, you’d never let him in. You’d want your space.
You said it too. “Alone.” He groans.
How long has he been laying here? Unable to sleep? You’re all he can think of. How he might be able to fix this. Again.
Always there seems to be something to fix because he breaks it. He breaks you.
Maybe you’d really be better off with someone else? Maybe leaving is what’s best for you?
These thoughts swirl around his mind as he keeps his eyes shut and urges himself to sleep.
Even after an entire afternoon spent sleeping in your arms, he’s exhausted. His mind makes no sense, jumping from one thought to the next.
Knowing that you could never really leave him makes him restless. Out of obligation you’ll stay by his side. Before that might have been enough, but now he wants all of you.
If it hurts you or if it makes you unhappy, he'd rather you go and be at peace. But then…he'd he alone again. Not just that, but he wouldn’t have you here. Brightening his days with your sweet smile.
What have I trapped her in? He thinks, agonized over your situation maybe more than you are.
His mind fills itself with the sight of you in your green dress. Gorgeous. His true flower among the lackluster gems in the crowd. They’re cold and hard whereas you are blooming and vibrant. Full of life.
You'd had your hands on him today too. In bed, on the dance floor. Soft warm digits caressing his face and body.
He can almost feel them here at the cliffside of slumber.
You’re tracing the shape of his arms, sliding your hands down onto his stomach, slipping one under the waist of his pants which he'd failed to remove before collapsing.
His mouth parts and he breathes in, tantalized by your touch until he realizes that he doesn’t smell peonies. It smells like mint and lemon. Small hints of gardenia. A soft tang. All wrong. Not you.
He’s been desiring your body. He wants to show you that he can make you feel good, just as Thor had…but this feels too good to be true after your fight.
“Y/N…” He calls out your name anyway, a passionate whisper, a wish for this dream in madness to be real.
He opens his eyes as a pair of lips press against his bare stomach and he yanks away from the blond head in his lap as deft hands make to slide his pants down.
“What are you doing?!” He’s in utter shock.
Not just because it isn’t you but because it’s someone that he would have never…no. This can’t be right.
Sharon. Maggie’s cousin. Her sister almost. One of his closest friends. Friends.
His senses come crashing back and before she can get his pants down further, he grabs her by the shoulders and pushes her back.
“Sharon, what are you doing? Why are you in here? You sh-shouldn’t be here.” Steve demands, shock still his primary leaning, he blinks the sleep from his eyes, confusion muddling his brain.
His rapidly beating heart helps him focus.
Sharon herself looks almost dazed but her eyes are clear as she meets his.
“Steve,” She shakes her head. “I don’t know why I never thought…tonight, watching you have to pretend with Y/N, that you love her and the baby…It should have been us after Maggie died.
“It’s what she would have wanted.” She reasons.
“No.” Steve shakes his head.
“I know that you know that I’ve always cared for you.”
“What?” Steve shakes his head.
“I always hoped that you’d look my way, but I resigned that wish when you and Maggie began to court.
“For you and for her, I would have done anything.” Sharon nods, her hands sliding up along his torso then back down to his hips.
“Sharon…” Steve begins, pushing her back harder until she’s sitting up fully.
“So, you don’t have to pretend anymore. We can be together. Let Y/N go and-"
“Sharon!” Steve says loudly, shaking her hard just once so that she’ll focus on him, her blonde hair swishing at the sides of her head with the rough shake. “First of all, what Y/N and I have is not a farce. It’s real. More real than anything I’ve had in a very long time, and I love her. Really love her. I’d die for her.”
Dramatic? Maybe. True? Definitely.
“But-" Sharon shakes her head, confused.
“Secondly, she is your Queen. You will treat her as such. You do not address her by first name. You do not speak to her as if you have known her all your life. Our friendship does not lessen your duty or obligation to respect and serve the crown be it King or Queen.
“Steve…”
“And thirdly,” Steve hesitates, if only because this woman is more than friend. She’s family.
Only a few years younger than Maggie but just as precious. Just as loved. A different love but love all the same.
“I have never felt for you the way you say you’ve felt about me.” He hopes he isn’t too harsh, but he also can’t leave her in any doubt.
Still, when he looks at her, he sees the small blonde girl racing after him, Margaret, and Bucky. Trying to keep up but unable. Calling out to them to slow down. “Wait foh me, Pwince! Maggie”
“I love my wife, Sharon. And your being here-this isn’t right. It isn’t proper. You’re crossing a line that once crossed will be hard to come back from."
“But if I can’t have you…” She begins voice utterly flummoxed. “…how am I supposed to keep Maggie alive?”
And she breaks. Steve sees it, right before his eyes. This woman, this fighter. Strong. Resilient. Part of the team…she breaks.
Whatever it was that had been keeping her together seems to shatter.
And Sharon weeps. Truly weeps. Steve can see in her the acceptance it took him nearly a year to acquire.
The reality that Maggie is gone. She will never come back and life is just that much emptier without her. It’s a hole that can never be filled. A piece that is taken and maybe over time the edges of the scar begin to heal and fade, but they’ll always be there. That unfillable hole. That pain.
Her sobs are not like yours—there you are again, taking over his brain—they’re quiet but make her whole body shake.
She wraps her arms around herself as if trying to keep herself together.
Steve’s hands flutter by her shoulders, at a loss. How can he comfort her without giving her the wrong idea? He can’t leave her like this.
She suddenly throws herself at him.
Her hands push him back as she straddles his waist and she pulls up her nightdress until it’s up above her thighs.
“Please, S-Steve j-just let me f-feel something…” She begs.
Steve is quick to get her off of him, shoving her to his left so that she rolls onto the bed and nearly off of it. The threat of falling makes her cling to his side.
He makes to shove her off but realizes she’s not clinging in a desire to get him in a compromising position but rather, she’s holding onto her sanity.
Her previous thought seems abandoned but still, Steve waits, checking to see if she might try again but she doesn’t. She only continues to fall apart and Steve’s heart aches for her.
His own eyes water and after a moment he gives in and holds her. He holds that little girl chasing after her older cousin, idolizing her strength. He gives her what he denied himself for a long time, reassurance.
“It’s going to be okay, Sharon. You’re going to be alright.” He assures her.
“I m-miss her!” She sobs, and Steve nods, rubbing her back.
“I know.” He gives her a few minutes to find some composure then makes to push her away.
“No!” Sharon cries harder, “Please, just a few minutes? I-I have no one now.”
Steve shakes his head, wanting to send her away but also unable to. How can she think she has no one? She’s family. She’ll always have the team.
“Sharon you can’t sneak in here like this again.” Steve chastises her, knowing her like a sister but unable to recognize the woman beside him.
He considers her as she sobs, wondering how long it has been since she talked about Maggie and what happened. Surely it wasn’t since the burial?
That amount of denial…
His lack of sleep begins to catch up to him as he watches her. He blinks, arms going slack around her as his eyes take longer and longer to open.
He doesn’t mean for it to happen. He was only going to give her a minute. Just enough to get herself together, then he’d show her out. But his exhaustion is too much.
Darkness takes him, then he hears it, the click of his door and a disbelieving gasp of betrayal.
~~~~~~~~~~
“Y/N.” His Majesty says.
You feel the edge of his fingertips against the small of your back and you jerk away from his touch.
He takes his hand back. A sorrowful sigh warms your side.
He’s almost curled around your back like an oversized cat, keeping his hands to himself but he’s eager to look at your face.
What he’s trying to see you’re not sure. Your angry expression? The pain in your eyes? The way you do that thing with your mouth when you’re furious?
“My sweet, I’m sorry. Please believe me.” He begs.
Once again, he tries to touch you, this time he places his whole hand on your back.
“Don’t touch me.” You say, nearly breathless. “I’m not ready for touch.”
You make it clear and pull away from him again.
He quickly takes his hand back and raises it a little so that you can see it.
“Okay, darling. Okay. I won’t touch you.” He looks like a big puppy. Large storm blue eyes giving off as much innocence as they can while you seethe.
You glare at him. “Do you have any idea what that felt like?”
He looks down at your hands, balled into fists around the sheets of your bed beside your thighs.
“I can-”
“You can’t.” You shake your head. “You can never know what it feels like to be lesser than. Inadequate. And then find the woman who makes you feel like that in your husband’s bed.”
“My husband?” Steve asks, smirking up at you.
“This is not the time to be making jokes!” You raise your voice, caring not that Peter can hear you.
The other guard switched off with him after all the screaming in the hallway.
Steve cowers. “Right, yes. You’re right. I’m an idiot. I’m sorry. A complete moron.”
You give him your back again, arms crossed over your chest as you let your anger settle.
“Am I a game to you?” You demand, agony slipping through to coat your words with ire.
“What? No. Of course not, my flower!” Steve insists.
He moves around you, sliding off the bed to squat in front of you, his hands find your wrists and you glower.
Quickly he takes his hands back and places them just beside your knees instead.
“I’ve said that I’m sorry so many times, I think the words are beginning to lose their weight.” Steve nods slowly, reading your irritation accurately.
“You’re not wrong.” You bite. “So, why don’t you stop doing things to be sorry for?”
“I’m trying.” He leans forward, nearly putting his forehead against your lap, but he doesn’t lay it down. You can feel the disappointment radiating off him. “I’m trying so hard to do right by you, but I do everything wrong.”
“Not everything.” You counter. “Your grand gestures, they’re lovely but I can do without those.”
“You didn’t like the pavilion?” He worries.
“I loved it, your Majesty.” He sighs but doesn’t complain this time. “But it was unnecessary.”
“It was very necessary. I cannot pay such homage to my deceased wife when my living one is just as precious.” He fights. “If I could plant peonies in every field surrounding the castle, I would. In fact, I think I will.”
“Please don’t.” You shake your head. “As beautiful as that would be, the expense would be extravagant and there are much better uses we could put that money towards. The school in the village is in desperate need of repair and new books. Perhaps we can add a whole new wing? For a proper library with all the most recent-”
Steve laughs.
“Why are you laughing?” You demand, annoyed with him easily because you’re already angry.
“Because you’re not like any woman I’ve ever known.” He reaches up to caress your cheek, but you pull away. He drops his hand, unoffended. “Most women would be swooning at the idea of such an expensive gift.”
“Is that what Sharon would like?” You spew, vile and bitter and rightfully jealous.
You watch as the light that had just entered his eyes is extinguished.
“Y/N…Sharon is not…” He stops, realizing what he’s about to say then thinks better. “I didn’t know that Sharon felt that way about me. I’ve known her all my life. She’s like family. I’ve always seen her as a younger sister. She used to follow Bucky, Maggie, and I around when we were children. For me it had always been Maggie. I never thought that she would think of me in that way. I certainly never thought about her that way. And I don’t now,”
You’re hanging on his every word for more than just his assurance of his feelings.
This is the first time he’s ever volunteered any information about his life before you showed up. This is the first glimpse into what made the man you see before you into the man that he has become.
“You do believe me, don’t you?” He pleads.
“I don’t know.” You admit, frowning. “Seeing you and her like that…Why was she in your bed?”
Steve growls, and you look down, angry but feeling like a bother with your questions.
He seems to notice the way you shrink because despite your protests, he reaches behind you to slide his hands down along your back to reassure you.
“No, darling, no. I’m not…I’m frustrated with myself. With this whole situation.” He explains. “Never with you. Ask me whatever you’d like.”
“Answer my question then.” You order, recovering quickly. “And hands.”
He quickly pulls his hands back to rest beside your knees and licks his lips as he considers how to answer.
“She did think that I didn’t love you. She came to try to-” He stops, tilting his head to the right and back quickly as he chews his lip. “When I realized why she was there, I told her that she was wrong. Then she tried to do it anyway, but I pushed her off and where you saw her is where she fell. And I was going to push her off completely. Send her back to her room but then she was in hysterics over Maggie and I-”
“Why can’t I escape your wife?” You ask him, saddened by Maggie’s perpetual presence in your marriage. And you sound it. You’re exhausted.
“You’re my wife, Y/N.” Steve affirms.
You ignore him. “I’m not saying that I don’t ever want to talk about her. She was a large part of your life up until the point that she wasn’t, and I am desperate to know about your lives together, but why does she keep getting in my way?”
“I don’t know.” Steve sighs. “I think maybe it’s me and not Maggie.”
He blinks, his eyes lingering more towards closed.
“Were you sleeping? When Sharon went in?” You wonder, remembering the shift of your bed as you tossed and turned.
“No.” He says. “I was almost asleep all night long. Every moment that I came close to slumber my thoughts of our argument would pull me back.”
His cheeks suddenly flush and this time he reaches to grab hold of the soft white sleeve of your nightdress and gives it a few flirty tugs. It’s a shy gesture and it warms you. This new side of him—him reaching out for you—is pleasant and surprising. You’ve seen only the cold man and more recently the eager man. Eager to make amends and reinitiate the intimacy of husband and wife.
This shy probing person, blushing up at you from where he’s planted himself innocently between your legs, he’s unexpected.
“At first I thought it was you. When she touched me…it was in a way that I’ve wished for you to touch me.” He confesses, voice low, deep, coming out of his chest to melt your resolve.
Your neck burns and you swallow hard, then you remember why he’s down there and why you’re on the bed, fuming.
“I don’t want to hear about how Sharon touched you, your Majesty.” You chastise.
“No. I wasn’t going…all I meant to say is that I only want you to do anything like that to me. I don’t need any other woman’s touch. Only yours.” He promises. “I wish…well I wish she hadn’t snuck into my bed and done what she did, but I wish that it had been you. I want you.”
“Then why was she in your bed?” You demand, unmoved by his declarations.
Steve shuts his eyes, thinking back to the last thing he remembers, and he could feel Sharon shaking in his arms as she sobbed what must have been two years’ worth of sorry.
She’d rejected her grief like he had only hers had manifested in a different way. Where he’d hurt you in his attempts to deal with that grief, Sharon had thrown herself at him. Then finally succumbed to the agony and fallen apart in his arms.
“I was going to get her off…I just…she started to cry and then I don’t remember anything. I remember thinking that she shouldn’t have tried to ignore her sorrow and then…then you were walking in. We must have cried ourselves to sleep.” He realizes, sounding regretful.
“You were crying?” You nearly gasp, remembering the way he’d looked that first night after your wedding, sobbing at your bedside for what he’d done and the utter shame and regret he’d been feeling. That broken man had won you over with his sincerity but the sight of him had been heartbreaking, eyes all red and swollen, brow knit in anguish.
As handsome as he always is, it wasn’t a good look on him. Not one you wish to see repeated. It seems even now all you want is for him to be happy.
Without thinking you reach up to trace what you can now see are the dried trails of his salty tears. Your fingers are gentle and careful, all thoughts of anger gone for a moment.
He smiles, flipping your heart over and over as you realize that he’s staring at you.
“What?” You wonder, moving to take your hand back but he catches it and he runs his thumb along your palm.
“How can you be worried about me now after everything that happened today? I thought you were angry at me?” He points out.
“I am angry with you.” You gripe, trying to pull your hand from his.
“Then why are you so kind? So caring?” He’s trying to read you and his scrutinizing blues have your stomach tumbling.
“I don’t understand your question.” You shake your head.
“I thought maybe you would choose not to speak to me again or maybe not care, after all of this.” He explains.
“Oh. Is that how it’s done here? Do you stop loving someone just because you’re angry at them?” You throw out. Maybe being a bit more bitter than you mean to be. “Well, I’m sorry I’m not some cool and collected noblewoman with skill I clearly have yet to learn. I don’t stop caring just because I’m angry.”
“No, Y/N…” Steve sighs and you yank your hand out of his grip. “I didn’t mean—”
You tear your eyes away from him, focusing off to the side at anything other than him.
Steve watches you, observing the way your shoulders droop, the way your lips quiver as if you’re ready to cry or maybe scream?
When he can’t stand your silence anymore, he sits down beside you, leaving no distance between you. He’s pressed against your side casually. The physical touch is not even a thought to him as he settles.
“You’re better than all of us, Y/N. You know that, right?” He asks, keeping his eyes on the ground as you finally turn to look at him. “Before I fell asleep, before Sharon…I started to think that maybe I’ve trapped you in this place without ever truly considering how this life might change you? Is this really the place where you belong?”
Your heart is suddenly racing. Is he going to send you away?
Your hand travels down to your stomach and you cup the small swell.
Wait, is he trying to get rid of you?
“Don’t you want me here?” You ask, not realizing how heartbroken you sound.
“What?” Steve looks at you, confusion etched across his handsome features. “Of course, I want you here.”
And then he’s laughing.
Laughing?!
“Why are you laughing again?” You demand, voice cracking a bit.
Steve turns to face you, his hands finding the sides of your face as he continues to laugh.
“This isn’t funny.” You protest, not realizing how close to tears you are.
“No.” He manages to say but chuckles a little bit more. “No, it isn’t. I’m sorry. Ignore me. I just can’t fathom how you thought I was telling you that I didn’t want you here.”
“Well, you said that-”
“I said that maybe, I trapped you in a situation where the life you lead can only be full of pain. I don’t like hurting you, flower. I hate it.” Suddenly, he’s not laughing anymore, but his thumbs are slowly tracing the shape of your cheekbones. “I wish I could take back every instance where I have hurt you.”
“Me too.” You admit.
“I want you here. I need you here. I love you.” He sighs.
Leaning in towards you, he tilts his head to the side slightly, but you quickly pull back before he can kiss you.
His hands slide off your cheeks as you lean away from the reach of his puckered lips.
“I’ve not forgiven you yet.” You remind him. “I don’t want to kiss you.”
A lie. But he doesn’t know that.
“I still don’t understand how Sharon being in your bed is alright.” You tell him.
“It isn’t.” He acknowledges and places his hands in his lap. “I should have sent her away as soon as I realized she wasn’t you.”
“Why didn’t you?” You demand, refocused.
“Because she was heartbroken. And she’s like a sister to me. I feel responsible for her in some ways because she was Maggie’s younger cousin. It never occurred to me that she would do anything like what she did today.”
You ruminate on his words but your gut instinct from that first day meeting her rears its head.
“I knew that this was going to happen. From the moment that I met her, and she refused to call me by my title…”
“Ah, that she won’t be doing again.” Steve assures you. “I’ve made sure she knows that it’s unacceptable the way she’s been speaking to you.”
“But you won’t send her away?” You ask, knowing the answer already.
Steve thinks hard for a bit, gauging your expression before he shakes his head.
“I can’t.”
Your heart drops.
“But it isn’t what you think, my sweetness.” He scoots closer again and you reach up to push his arms away as he tries to bring them around you.
“Stop trying to touch me.” You tell him angrily. “Why can’t you send her away?”
Steve refuses to answer. He stares at you, face growing more and more torn as he weighs your need for answers. You make to get up and leave him there in your room, alone.
~~~~~~~~~~
Steve reaches out for you and takes hold of your wrist. “Wait.”
You stop, turning to look at him, giving him a chance to remedy this. And in this moment, Steve knows that there is no other option. He must let you in completely or risk losing you permanently.
And this will be the last time he lets this happen. If tonight is any proof, you two cannot part angrily again. He won’t let it happen. He’ll stick to your side until the two of you have worked out whatever it is that’s come between you until he knows that you’re okay.
You are his choice and he will stand by it until he dies.
The tightness in his chest is painful. The thought of you away from him, hating him, and with his baby too? No. He needs to make this right.
“I’ll tell you. Please sit down?” He reaches for you and you don’t fight him this time.
You let him touch your hip and he turns you so that when you sit on the edge of the bed, you’re facing him.
He takes the opportunity to feel your tummy and you don’t pull away, which he’s grateful for.
You’re too good for him.
You’re justified in your anger and contempt and yet here you are, giving him this little bit of comfort even though you could continue to push his hands away.
“What I’m about to tell you is not something that should be repeated outside the confines of this room. If we’re alone, then it’s alright but if we aren’t, I need you to keep this secret. I know I can trust you, but I need you to know that this puts you in danger.” He sighs heavily. “More than you already are. I wanted to keep this from you for as long as I possibly could. This is not part of your life here, but it is a part of mine and Sharon’s and Nat’s and Bucky’s…we’re all part of it and since we’re always around you—”
You gasp and Steve stops to look up at you. Realization has made your eyes wide as saucers.
“The man who attacked me?” You guess.
Steve wants to smile. You’re so smart. Instinctive. Perfection.
“Yes.” Steve nods. “I’m certain it’s because you’re my Queen. But it’s more than that. Natasha, Samuel, Bucky, Peter, your father-”
“My father?!” You ask him in shock, Steve nods.
“Yes, your father. Your mother. Thor…Sharon…and a few others you haven’t met—all of us work hard to fight the evils of the world. This unfortunately exposes our loved ones to dangers.” Steve nods, watching the shock fade from your face. “Dangers that I didn’t want you exposed to. Dangers that have already found you.”
Deep fear begins to take root in his chest, choking him and he wants to hold you if only to feel you close and safe. But you don’t want to be hugged right now.
“So…” He can see your mind racing, thinking up a hundred different things until you seem to settle on one. “…Maggie? She was also part of this group?”
Steve nods. “Yes. She was my partner, in every sense of the word. She and Sharon made quite the team too. And when I lost her…to infection…I’d always prepared myself to lose her in battle. I know she’d thought about losing me that way too. We’d talked about it before. I never expected it to be so…normal.”
He wonders if you can suddenly see why he’s struggled so much with Maggie’s death. He’d come face to face with situations that meant life and death all the time, only to lose her when they were supposed to be safe, it took him so long to come to terms with it. For a long time, he couldn’t accept it.
And Maggie and Sharon were so close.
“So, she’s here because of the attack? Sharon?” You guess, and he wants to kiss that smart little head of yours.
“I sent for her as soon as Thor told me what he saw. It’s why he wasn’t here tonight. He’s been making regular scouting missions from here to Asgard since you got back. Just to make sure you’re safe.” Although Steve is grateful for Thor’s assistance, he’s also a little miffed. You’re his wife. Why does Thor feel so entitled to you?
Smug jerk.
“We were all going to meet tomorrow. She’ll hate herself in the morning.” Steve knows that she’ll find a way to apologize to you and him.
“Am I supposed to feel bad for her?” You ask him, and as Steve meets your eyes, he’s surprised though impressed by the sharp edge in your tone. The rage still bubbling there beneath the surface. “Because I don’t.”
“I know.” Steve nods.
“I don’t want to see her. Or speak to her. How long will she be here?” You wonder.
This disappoints Steve a little. He’d really wanted you and Sharon to get along since she’s precious too, but he can see how that is impossible now.
Why had she gone and tried something so foolish? Why had he let her stay? He shouldn’t have been swayed but she’s like a sister.
“I’ll send her home after the meeting.” Steve offers. “So long as nothing comes up. She’s very skilled at fighting those evils I spoke about.”
Steve can already see the hesitation in your pretty face. The regret. The guilt at asking him to send her home right away.
“If she’s really that valuable…if having her here makes things easier. If you want her here-”
“I will send her home as soon as the meeting’s over, my flower.” He insists, resolute in his choice. “I want you to be happy here. I know that things have been difficult for both of us. I’ve made things difficult for both of us, but I told you that I’m going to show you how much I love you and need you here and I meant it.
“There’s only you, Y/N. You are my forever and I hope to make it a pleasant forever. For me but especially for you. I have so much to make up for, if you will let me?”
You’re watching him, eyes big, trying not to blink because there’s a small puddle under each eye growing bigger by the second.
God, he hates it when you cry. If he could take all of your tears and turn them into smiles he would. No…your laugh would be better. So beautiful.
“Say something, little flower.” He pleads, moving the hand resting on your little swell to your hips. He scoots closer when you don’t pull away.
Will you let him hold you? He loved sleeping with you today. Cuddling together. Feeling your soft body between his arms had felt better than he would have thought possible.
Your tears finally spill over and he brings his hands up to wipe them away as they fall.
“Do you feel this way only because of the baby?” Your lip trembles and he feels his heart shatter. “I mean, I know that it’s what we’ve been waiting for, what you’ve needed, and I was just wondering-”
You look down at your hands, run them over your teeny bump, caressing the child sweetly. You’re already in love with that little one. You’re exuding devotion for it.
“-If maybe the reason you’re so eager to-to keep me here is because of the baby? I-”
Steve brings his hand down to take hold of your chin, gently pulling it upwards until he can meet your watery eyes.
“I have loved you from the moment I first laid eyes on you.” He whispers, “And I only fought it for so long out of a misplaced sense of responsibility for Margaret. You are my responsibility now. You are my love. This child is a blessing but even without it, even if the kingdom were taken from me, you are my wife.
“I will show you. What happened tonight…that will never happen again. I’m an idiot. A large one.” Steve can’t help but smile at you as you sniffle, reaching up to wipe your nose as you consider his words.
“I’ll leave again.” You tell him, not a threat but it’s a promise. He can see the determination in your eyes. “I can’t stay with that happening in the other room. Our room…”
Your drift off sadly and Steve realizes why you’d been at his door.
You had been coming to be with him. In his bed. And he’d found Sharon there instead.
“Shit.” Steve’s throat is tight. How is it possible that he missed this small detail? “It is our room. Damn it, Y/N. I will…I will have the bed remade. I will-What color do you want? We can redecorate the entire thing. Make it new. It will be our room. Tell me what you want, I’ll do it.”
Steve watches as you stare at him, then finally, your lips take a small curl. It’s not a full smile, but it’s a small one. Just enough to give him hope that he hasn’t fucked this marriage up permanently.
“I’m really tired.” You tell him, and Steve springs up to clear your side of the bed. He pulls the blankets back and holds them up as you slide in. “Thank you.”
“Of course, my flower.” He smiles at you, tucking you in and then letting his hands linger on your stomach.
“You’re staying, right?” You ask him, and when he meets your eyes, he finds you watching him with uncertainty.
“Of course, I am.” He says with determination. “Of course.”
He moves around the bed, blowing out a few of the candles that had been left on as he goes plunging the room into semi-darkness with only the light of the fireplace casting dancing shadows across the room.
He settles in, turning to face you and makes to hold you.
“No.” You protest. Steve freezes. “I’m not ready for that. I’m still angry with you. For more than Sharon.”
Damn. You’re right of course. Steve had gone and said too much at the feast.
“Right.” He nods, unable to help the crestfallen look on his face. “Right. I’m sorry.”
“You can hold my hand.” You offer, and when he looks at you, you’re holding your hand out towards him, laying on your side to face him.
Steve smiles. Hope. This is all he needs for now. As long as you haven’t given up on him, he’s okay.
He takes your hand, pulls it to his lips and kisses your fingers. He lays with you in silence. Watching as your eyes slowly shut, and when you’re fast asleep, he closes his too.
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silence-burns · 5 years
Text
Please Hate Me //part 18
Fandom: Marvel
Summary: Based on: "Imagine having a love/hate relationship with Loki." by @thefandomimagine
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If only rage could rattle the stars, the world would finally meet its end swiftly. Instead, proven by the most unfortunate events, it was forced to wait for a bit longer, suffering through endless hours of vocalized emotional distress.
You caught Loki's eyes over the table. At least you weren't the only one having a dead-fish-glare.
"Don't you roll your eyes at me!" Stark jabbed a finger at you. He never stopped pacing the room, which should have made it even more impressive and threatening, but not much could beat being portalled by Doctor Strange back to the Tower. Some things are hard to beat.
"You're repeating yourself at this point," You sighed, stretching your legs under the table. "We've been at it for an hour already. I thought you weren't the one for speeches."
Steve shook his head silently, probably wishing you to stop. He positioned himself near the exit, as if there was anyone in the room stupid enough to try sneaking out.
You looked back to Loki. Well, you'd actually already made it out once.
The other Avengers assembled around didn't butt in, allowing all the harsh words to be said aloud. Some still had bruises and cuts needing to be tended to, but they stayed, creating a unified front.
Shame it was against Loki and you.
He didn't seem to mind. Sitting with his back straight, his face was a skillfully crafted expressionless mask. It was something you'd seen him do before, just as you'd seen him lose it for a few brief moments. You wondered how many years of meetings just like this one it takes to master creating such a mask.
You steadied your voice. At least Peter was not there.
"There was a threat. We answered it."
Steve sighed with resignation. "That's exactly the problem. You’d been told to stay in the Tower and keep an eye on Loki."
"Right. I forgot I should also let people die literally blocks away. Sorry, my memory is not what it used to be."
"This is not the time for sarcasm and jokes," Clint reminded you. You had a suspicion the bruise on his cheek would turn a beautiful shade of green by tomorrow. "You should have called us, or the police at the very least."
"Yeah, I should call the cops, but you had to go—wherever you went—with the whole team and Strange, yourself?" you scoffed. "Besides, I tried to call you. And so did Peter. Shame you didn't pick up."
Steve put a hand on Tony's shoulder, stopping him from another rant. You did feel a little guilty about breaking your orders, but if you had to make the choice again, you'd do exactly the same thing. Rushing to someone's help was not something you ever regretted, and you weren't going to start now.
"By the way, how did you know where we were?" you asked, the thought having bugged you since it happened.
Steve gestured to your wrist.
"The bracelets have a GPS. The moment you left the Tower, we got the info."
Loki shot his bracelet a look of disgust. He started hating it even more.
"That's neat," you admitted. "Shame it still took you awhile to actually do something about it."
"We weren't sitting on our asses," Natasha surprised you, breaking in. "We were forced to stop a madman trying to break the borders between worlds. That's how the creatures you fought got into ours. The breakage happened throughout the world, but thankfully it was contained rather quickly in most places. Thor is still patching up some bigger holes, but Strange helped us get back here through his portals."
"Oh."
"Your 'oh' doesn't cover half of what happened," Tony pointed out. "We had no idea why both Loki and you left the Tower and how it was connected to those incidents."
"Well, sorry for not calling you earlier, I got caught up with hero work and, you know, kidnappers too. Literally."
"Speaking of which," Clint didn't even try to hide laugh from his voice. "How the hell did you end up in there?"
You kept your chin high. "My dearest side-kick and I decided that the day was still early after we killed the monsters, so we followed the men scraping off the things from the side, and got into their base to take them down. You know, the usual."
Loki raised an eyebrow.
Stark dragged a hand down his face, hoping it would ease some of the exhaustion he felt seeping down to his bones. It didn't work.
He asked as politely as he could, "And getting kidnapped by them seemed like the best way in, I suppose?"
Loki raised the other eyebrow too, looking at you with clear intent.
You ignored it.
"Obviously. It got us right where we wanted, and also allowed us to see if those really were the right guys. It was a brilliant plan."
Stark was breathing heavily with his eyes closed. You'd known him for years, but you still weren't sure if he would start shouting or laughing his ass off. The man was a mystery.
Steve shook his head with disbelief.
"And you decided to just, what? Tag along together?" he pointed to the two of you, seated at the opposite sides of the long, glass table.
Loki didn't answer. He knew this type of conversations was usually doomed from the start. Nothing he'd say would change those people's opinion of himself.
You looked at him.
"That turned out to be a good idea too."
Something passed through Loki's face, but it was gone with a blink. If your eyes weren't locked, you'd have missed it.
Tony stopped pacing and folded himself on a nearby chair. He didn't look like he had any strength left in him.
"I'm too tired to deal with you today. I vote on having this conversation done properly tomorrow."
You smiled your sweetest smile. "And I vote on just dropping this useless farce. Who's with me?"
You gave Loki The Look. He obediently raised his hand and enjoyed every second of disbelief on Tony's face as you raised from your chair and headed to the door with Loki by your side.
You waved the Avengers a goodbye. Steve didn't stop you. He wanted to say something, but you passed him too quickly to allow that.
Loki followed you in complete silence. At least, until you got out of their hearing range.
"May I inquire where exactly we are going?"
You strode confidently into another corridor, heading to the elevator.
"To the kitchen, my favourite side-kick. We're getting all the food we can carry and then finally enjoying a break from this nonsense. How does that sound to you?"
Loki opened his mouth, but the words weren't right. Not yet, at least. It had been a long day, and words like the ones prying their way onto his lips should be said under different circumstances.
"When exactly did I become your side-kick, though?" he asked instead.
"Why, from the very beginning, obviously. I've got more experience."
"I didn't notice that experience earlier."
"I don't like to boast about it."
He hid a smile. "Right."
Taglist: @writerjmlove @drakonwild @eeveesjourney @lokislilcaribbeanprincess @oatballsoffury @inumorph @ejectur @nerdybabywrites @twhgirl @nikkoliferous @unlikelygalaxygiver @multifandomreaderinsertfanfics @dreamingofonceuponatime @iamfelixc @bluebunnlee @effmigentlywithachainsaw @sadwaywardkid​ @ravenclawpossum​ @waitforthehurricane​ @absentmindeduniverse​ @unicorniorosacomefrutillas​  @toboldlyscream​ @waitforthehurricanrose​  @cluelessnitwhit​ @iamverity​ @absentmindeduniverse​ @the-corruptor​ @just-another-romantic​ @breakawayfromeveryday​
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underwaterwoods · 5 years
Text
so i saw the star war
spoilers ahoy
i guess this is just gonna be random bullet points
* i actually feel pretty chill about it. yay for being spoiled. also like.... if you ignore the ridiculous stuff there’s actually a lot to have fun with in this one. i don’t know how i’ll feel about it once i’ve processed it more. i just know i had fun while watching it, which i know isn’t true for everybody. i totally understand the negativity - it all makes sense to me. i’m just glad i sort of.... FORCED myself to have enough distance to just go in like ‘i’M PrepArED fOr wHAtEveR’
*i did like all the jumping around between locations in the first half and how ben would show up everywhere rey was. what a ‘you’re everywhere i go’ pairing. /chef’s kiss/. also having the different locations gives a sense of spaciousness (even if it’s all happening over a short period of time) which i missed in tlj.
*one of the things that gave me the most joy as the hux thing ??? X’’’D it was EXACTLY like that ‘the farce awakens’ ep where hux LITERALLY JOINS THE RESISTANCE cuz he can’t stand kylo. like what kind of fanfic...... how do the hux fans out there feel? (i really love the hux fans they’re a great bunch XD). shame that he was gone right after though.
* i actually enjoyed the trio dynamic? like i get the desire to move away from ‘trio mentality’ but the rey/poe tension with finn as mediator was fun. and finn and poe as joint generals? adorable. shame that the whole finn/poe thing got a bit clouded by.... stormpilot baiting and rose erasure and all the things... Also i’m not anti any character - i like zorii - but.... let poe stay a gay icon? i guess he can still be a queer icon it’s all good i’m down for whatever.
*speaking of finn.... loved seeing more of his humour back. didn’t love that there was no unpacking of how he feels taking out stormtroopers. but loved the found family of jannah and the other ex-stormtroopers. i feel like that gave SOME resolution/depth to finn’s origins. and finn being a non force user but seemingly super attuned to the force and its ways? i can roll with that.
*more speaking of finn... i wonder what they were doing with the ‘thing he wants to tell rey that he never gets to tell rey’. seems like an obvious ‘i love you’ thing. but at the same time we got reylo (/basks in that for a second/). it feels to me like throwing a bone to the finnrey people? like they didn’t get it in this movie but it could be a thing in the future? regaurdless, i did like how finn and rey were very connected and back to that loving friendship they had in tfa. we never quite got the ‘you have a force bond with the supreme leader?!!’ conversation but we got.... SOME conversation.
* speaking of the supreme leader... kinda love that we got renperor AND ben solo TM. i prefer to view ben more holistically (he is both ‘ben’ and ‘kylo’) but i get that making them two distinct identities was a helpful shortcut of sorts. he could ‘kill’ kylo and switch to being ben in a single scene. i always prefer Soft Boi Ben but if we were gonna get Bad Boy Kylo i’m glad they established it right out the gate. it was like ok, this is what to expect; this is where we’re at with this character. 
*ben with his costume change at the end....... omg. gave me BIG smuggler!Ben vibes. urgh, give me all the AUs. ben deserves more.
*the amount of swagger when he was fighting the KOR
*idk i feel like i’m not even touching on the big stuff. this was just a ‘get all my side thoughts out of my system’ post.
*adam’s smile after the kiss though......... ...  /the most beautiful thing in this world/
*truly iconic that people were right about the strategic, covert introduction of force healing via baby yoda like one month before tros.
*oh yeah it was wILD that so much of the imagery from the trailers/tv spots etc was in like the first five mintues of the movie ??? i totally assumed the ‘i have been every voice you’ve ever heard inside your head’ moment would be climactic rather than right up front
*oh yeah the vader mask.... that didn’t really mean anything in the end then did it?
* re: ben’s death. maybe it’s because i was braced for it but in some ways it’s the best way he could have gone. he was definitely happy and reunited with the light - both through love of rey and of his family. hIGHKey could have done with ben’s force ghost also appearing at the end? the only good thing about not seeing it is.... LF deciding to retcon his death ? ??XD obs they’re not gonna but if you want a crackpot silver lining there it is.
*what exactly does rey’s future look like, may i ask?
* oh yeah, Passing The Saber Through The Force. maybe my favourite moment. the force bond as a bare concept is so romantic to me i would watch a whole trilogy just exploring the magic system of that - it’s limitations and possibilities. 
* i do like that jj developed the visual style of the bond. we got to see them occupying the same space, the way each of them would be seeing the other (’can you see my surroundings, i can’t see yours, just you’)
*i miss that rian johnson sound editing on the bond though..... god, the iNTIMACY of the tlj bond scenes....
*’i DID want to take your hand’
*also just the word choice of ‘take your hand’/ ‘i offered you my hand’. it’s extremely marriage.
*there was also a moment in the hanger when ben was like ‘we’re one’ basically? he was saying it in the context of rey’s lineage but still...............the validation. one soul. 
*palps was like ‘you live and die together’ which made me REALLY think of skytalkers podcast. obviously assumed they would both have to LIVE together but.... /deep sigh/
*blah this could go on forever i’ll add more later
edit #1:
* OH YEAH! reverse anidala was such a thing! why did it have to be SO reverse anidala though? X’D instead of taking her life, he gives her his own. (i know it’s not clear anakin totally killed padme etc etc but ya feel me)
* ok i hate that ben died obvs obvs but, taking that for what it is, it was very romeo and juliet. i kinda love just the imagery of it. like... the physical blocking/choreography of adam getting daisy into his arms, holding her, then he falls and it’s her holding him. the way she catches his neck. really reminded me of the smoothness of the bridal carry. and rey’s flexed foot in that moment of shock. love the body language. back to that kind of ‘’staccato’’ rey of tfa days.
edit #2:
*lololol @ LF trying to establish how ‘bad’ kylo is by having him kill a bunch of people in the beginning. it was just.... Hot.
edit #3:
* rose deserves better. obviously. she looked so good though. i like that she had some moments with connix too. 
* ben called han ‘dad’......
*ben standing there, overlooking the waves, with his leG EXTENDED BEFORE HIM. wanderer above a sea of fog. wanderer above a sea of foggg.
* rey having compassion for the snake thing. we been knew. kinda nice to have it in there. obviously good set up for ~later force healing shenanigans~
* OH YEAH OH YEAH. i kept thinking about atla. i know people have been making comparisons to it from the start and i’ve been DEEPLY INTO those comparisons. but it was truly a blessing for me to remember.... there is a version of this out there that you love and that is Good Content TM. legit i can just go watch atla again to heal from this. omg yeah cuz REY HEALING HIS WOUND ALSO HEALED HIS SCAR. very crystal cave.......... nah but nah but - the ‘you are every jedi’ was EXTREMELY avatar-esk..... like, engage avatar state. i don’t like how it ended up being the same old conflict between jedi and sith - ‘good’ and ‘bad’ - OBVIOUSLY THE POINT IS TO INTEGRATE THE CONFLICTING PARTS OF SELF; THE SHADOW SIDE; TO TRANSCEND OLD DICHOTOMIES - but i did love hearing all the voices from past jedi. that’s some good ‘the ancestors are with you’ shit.
edit #4:
* i think the first thing we hear rey say is ‘be with me’? ngl i was like ‘pls be invoking the force bond’ X’D i am a clown. that was a beautiful shot though. and love that a version of the bond kicked in like two seconds after that. 
edit #5:
*there’s that bit where reylo are fighting on the death star ruins and he’s winning and rey kinda falls to her knees panting and lowkey defeated and, not to be a shallow bitch but..... it was Hot.
*also dark rey......... was HOT. SHE WAS SO KIRA, WHATEVER THE FUCK THAT MEANS, AND I WAS INTO IT LIKE HNGGGG
*obvs i wanted rey to be truly no one. but casting jodie comer as rey’s mum ? ????? urgh, pefection, i love it.
*palps was so random i stg..... his plan was.... convoluted to say the least. 
*also who was under all those hoods?
*the KOR just kinda... being around again was hilarious. no explaination required. the boys are back in town. ben facing them without a mask and essentially wearing his pjs? loved it. 
edit #6:
*seriously though ben’s redemption outfit.............. /heart eyes emoji into the sunset/.......... you can see his collar bone.............. /cares about the important things/.................
edit #7:
*one thing i loved about the reylo was how Space Wizards TM they both were in this movie. it so highlights their connection by making it clear that they are each other’s only peer. i thought it would be a thing of ‘why is the supreme leader constantly interacting with/going after this girl?’ but it’s not because it’s so clear that they are the only two people on each others’ level. no one would dare question the fact that they’re constantly circling each other in a lustful murderous rage.
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peebleswrites · 4 years
Text
Forbidden Fruit, a Code Geass AU
Suzaku remembered waking up, on the beach, the shores of an island of all places. He remembered experiencing disorientation concerning his surroundings and his arrival. How did he get here? And why? Why couldn’t he recall anything prior to being stranded?
“I won’t get any answers here…” Survival instincts from training had kicked in. First things first, he needed to locate a source of drinkable water.
He remembered this more vividly than anything else.
A figure. It appeared to be that of a woman. The back was facing him. At first, he grew alarmed, wary that this person, whoever she may be, might pose a threat to his wellbeing. And then she turned. And that head of red hair that stuck out like a sore thumb on any given day, grabbed his attention, practically slapping him in the face for not recognizing her sooner.
“Kallen? Kallen Stadtfeld?”
He remembered her active response. She wasted no time in both covering that which she could and charging at him with a concealed weapon of some kind.
“A Black Knight’s uniform? Don’t tell me you’re one of–!”
Yes, that dark jacket. The design. She couldn’t be one of them, could she? Not Kallen Stadt—
“Kouzuki is my name! I’m Japanese!”
He remembered meeting her for the first time. That spit fire Guren pilot, Kouzuki Kallen. If asked to describe his feelings as he straddled her naked body, working to subdue her wildly moving form, he’d have to say he was somewhere between utterly confused and bewildered. So much that he paid little mind to the very obvious fact that she lacked proper clothing for the better part of their encounter.
Well…no…that’s a lie. He is still a boy, after all. However, he’s a soldier too. And a knight of third princess! He couldn’t dishonor his master and himself by gawking at a woman in such a vulnerable state! Though, even he had to admit…Kallen was just not the kind of beauty you could ignore easily.
“So, you have no idea how you got here either.”
He remembered the awkward part of forcing her clothes on because her being naked and his ‘captive’ just did not sit right with him for previously mentioned reasons. He easily compared her behavior to that of a drenched cat. Wild. Violent. Merciless. The list just goes on.
“You’re a lot different than you are at school.” The most obvious observation he’d made all day. Not just her behavior. Her expressions. Her voice. Her entire demeanor. It was like a switch had been flipped on her. Could this girl before him really be Kallen?
“Yeah, and you’re the same as ever…” In all honesty, despite her involvement with the Black Knights, he had to admit this Kallen was much more…pleasant to be around. Or perhaps pleasant wasn’t the correct term. All in all, he enjoyed her presence much more in this setting than at school. He truly believed she was quite the boring individual.
Oh, how wrong he was.
“The name Genbu Kururugi, the last samurai, weeps!” Her feisty, reckless tirade triggered the ole recipe of bitterness and resentment that permanently swelled within his lump of a heart. Forever would he be compared to his radical of a father. It was something he’d learned to live with over the years. But now…the secret had come out.
“My father didn’t commit suicide. I killed him. With this hand.” Gone was the boy who trembled at the feet of a foe who somehow knew too much. Gone was the feeble teenager who preached and preached on justice all the while harboring the very sin that was a direct catalyst in the equation that led to the very much anticipated downfall of his people. For that moment, for that split second, Suzaku stopped caring.
He was a killer. Day after day he tried to convince himself that maybe, just maybe, if he worked hard enough, he could one day be free of this sin but no. Area 11 and its inhabitants were a perpetual reminder.
He remembered Kallen’s face. He was expecting mortification. Lelouch, his best friend, gazed upon him in shock. He anticipated much worse from her and yet…her eyes were sad? Maybe he was seeing things. Maybe the crackling fire between them played tricks on his eyes. For her expression lasted but an instance.
“Zero…what he’s doing is wrong…”
“Oh, and you’re suddenly Mr. Right? Who is it that gets decide what’s right and wrong? Who gets to stand in judgement? Certainly not you! You’re nothing but a—!” The words were on her lips, teetering on the tip of her tongue.
“Go on and say it! I know what I am, Kallen! A disgrace to the Kururugi name! A murder! A hypocrite! I’ve heard it all before! But those labels don’t change how I feel about the state of this land! What being Japanese means to me! What it’s meant since our independence was stripped away!”
“So now you’ve got pride? Hah! Your pride means nothing if you’re fighting on the wrong side! The very fact that you oppose someone who’s done more for Japan in the last month than you’ve done in your entire life shows me that your so-called pride is nothing but a farce! It’s not real! How dare you call yourself Japanese!”
Every word she spat at him was like lava. It made him hot, hotter than he’d ever felt. Steamed, even. The kind of hot that compels men to act violently. The kind of provoking hot that urged him to hit something. He felt so driven all of the sudden by aggression and frustration, he was ready to…to…!
He remembered her eyes, wide with fury and shock the moment he lunged forward, tackling her into the cold cold sand below them. He remembered suffering from a well-aimed knee to the abdomen, courtesy of the Guren pilot who flung more ignited slurs his way. He couldn’t explain why he attacked her like this. Well…he could but he didn’t care to. This action would bring him shame every time he thought of it.
He thought of her eyes, a blue starkly contrasting the fiery pits of vengeance currently scorching his being. He thought of her breath, labored huffs of air hitting his flushed face at uneven intervals. He thought of her hair in splayed spikes of crimson laying construed about her face. He thought of her lips, dry as they were, his eyes never strayed too far from the full pink pair, parted and giving him the allusion of something soft.
And suddenly all thoughts stopped at that point.
“S….Suzak–…!” Too little too late. Had she called his name even a second sooner, he would’ve stopped himself. But she didn’t. And he was now comparing the softness of her lips to something plump, sweet, warm. Kissing her was like biting into a ripe peach on a hot summer afternoon. An odd comparison but it seemed to fit as far as he was concerned.
“……”
He remembered moving away from her, back to the fire, back to real life, back to the sad sap of Kururugi he’d learned to accept.
And he remembered biting into that peach one more time before night became morning. Later on, he would wonder how in the world Kallen managed to get her hands free from those bindings.
It would be weeks, perhaps even an entire month had passed in between their next encounter. Needless to say, it wasn’t a very pleasant meeting. The events prior, discovering Kallen’s ties with the Black Knights, being stranded with her, and most notably that kiss, were still fairly fresh within the Lancelot pilot’s mind.
Or rather, his ever-feisty hothead of a rival was in his head and he couldn’t seem to get rid of her. No matter how much he cared for his princess, the light of his life, that spark within Kallen…it dulled her shine.
A bit.
He saw her at school upon his return at long last. He wasn’t surprised to see her tense up whenever he was around. He knew her secret. And he was willing to bet he was the only one at Ashford who did. Unbeknownst to her, he’d never breathe a word about it.
“Just what in the hell kind of game are you trying to pull here, huh?” She’d cornered him, unceremoniously shoved him in a vacant classroom while obviously, and painfully, poking his side with that blasted knife wallet. Really, where does one obtain such a cute yet deadly accessory?
“I don’t know what you mean, Kallen.” Part of him didn’t. Part of him was waiting for her to question him.
Part of him was dying for it. A chance to share the same space, breathe the same air. A chance to look into those constantly blazing, fluid pools of raging cerulean. A chance to memorize those lips, to experience the nostalgia of his first encounter with the forbidden fruit.
“Don’t fuck with me, Suzaku!”
“You kiss Zero with that mouth–ow! It was a joke, sheesh!” Yeah, he supposed he earned himself that small stab from her blade.
“What’s your angle? Are you planning to blackmail me? It won’t work! I don’t care about exposing myself!”
“Wait, that’s not what I’m after all! Please, don’t do that!” Time to come clean. And fast. That blade didn’t seem to be going anywhere. “While we’re at school…I’m Suzaku, your friend. I won’t do anything to jeopardize your being here, Kallen. If anything, I’d like to persuade you to change sides.”
“Oh, how noble of you.” He was expecting that sarcastic jab.
“But…when we meet on the battlefield, I’ll be your enemy. And I will make it my duty to defeat you and Zero.” Blazing cerulean met the steely pigmentation of raw sage. And Kallen looked taken aback by his bold declaration. Taken aback and mildly provoked. That smirk covering her lips told him everything he needed to know about her stance on his words.
“You say that as if you really can stop us. I’ll beat that knightmare of yours, just wait!” She was seconds, mere seconds, away from removing the knife when calloused digits closed around the thinness of her wrist. Several quick maneuvers later and the Guren pilot met the cold hard surface of a beaker cabinet, face first.
“You’re underestimating me. I am a trained soldier. You’ve just gotten lucky overtime...”
“This ‘luck’ nearly defeated your precious Viceroy and gives you hell every time our units clash! You’re the one underestimating me!” How dare he impose his strength upon her. Oh, how she yearned to level the playing field. And level his head while she was at it.
Frustrated with her defiance, the male effortlessly whipped her form around, forcing her back into the cabinet while keeping a steady grip on her arm.
“You don’t have to do this Kallen! You come from a good family. Your father’s a noble! With your background, you could easily work from within and–!”
“Save the self-righteous work with the system speech for someone with nothing to fight for! You really think a halfbreed like me will be well received?! Oh, your father’s a noble~. Screw him and screw y–!”
He couldn’t resist. How could he? The tension between them was too great. Her eyes, they’d captivated him from the moment she yanked him from the hall. Even her scent, tantalizingly potent, reeled him in. And the bait that compelled him?
Her raw anger.
It was different than what he was used out of women. Most girls were nice, sweet, kind, soft, gentle. But Kallen…she was a fire. A ticking time bomb. A raging storm and he was slowly coming to terms with being blissfully caught up in her torrents.
Which is why when she finally snapped and slapped him, he did nothing more than cup his stinging cheek. He didn’t follow after her when she stormed off. In fact, he all but avoided Kallen for a pretty good portion of the day and the rest of the semester.
She scared him, for lack of a better word. And not because she was tough or one of his more formidable foes on the battlefield. It was off the battlefield that her presence shrouded him in veils of fear. He’d awaken at night, in cold sweats though the dream was definitely the opposite temperature. He’d randomly find himself thinking fondly of Euphemia only for the image to shift to that of Kallen.
Worst of all, he’d recall and crave that first taste.
This fruit, his sweet downfall.
Euphemia was dead. Area Eleven had succumbed to the terror that would soon become known as nothing other than the Black Rebellion. Suzaku was traumatized, deeply wounded, and wracked with terror. His heart, normally swelling bitterly now had a new accessory weighing it down.
Revenge.
“Zero!”
“No, it’s Lelouch!” Why…why did she have to be here? Why did she have to come at this exact moment? Why…did she follow him? Follow Zero. Follow Lelouch…she would pay dearly for choosing the wrong side. He gave her a way out. Time and time again. If this is the path she walked, so be it.
“Suzaku, no!”
“Don’t get in my way, Kallen!” He’d merely intended to shy her away from coming any closer. But when his gun fired…when he heard her cries of pain…it was like seeing Euphie’s demise from eyes of the monster before him.
No, how could he…
It wasn’t supposed to turn out this way…Lelouch. He was supposed to shoot Lelouch, not Kallen.
After that, he was on autopilot. Blur. Everything he remembered was a blur.
Detaining Lelouch. A blur.
Treating Kallen’s gunshot wound. A blur.
Contacting the Avalon to meet him at the island. A blur.
And he’ll never forget her last words.
“S-Suzaku…I will…n-never…forgive you…”
Her last words as Kouzuki Kallen.
A/N: This was a bit longer than originally intended but it’s just one of those things where you write and you write and you keep writing until the message you want to get across is conveyed. When I tell you I’ve had this on my brain for YEARS. I mean, it’s been a loooong time but I finally buckled down and pumped this out sometime in 2018. Tell me what you think. Shall I continue or leave it as is? Thanks!
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bossladytae · 5 years
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Five Key HijiTae Moments
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I’ve been shipping Hijikata x Tae /土妙 since 2007, and as self-proclaimed captain of this ship, I’ve sailed without expecting a canon ending. Indeed, I expected nothing more beyond the Yagyuu arc, but Sorachi gave me even more moments to be thankful for - five of which are compiled in this post as a final send-off.  
Before I begin, I wish to convey my gratitude to @arirna​, who is the chief officer of the HijiTae ship, as well as the Tsukuyo to my Tae, our ladies whom we adore so much. I’ve much enjoyed all our numerous discussions on many topics. You make great gifs (thanks for granting my requests! And for allowing me to use and link them in this post because I couldn’t figure out how to embed just one gif from a single post, woe is me), and you’ve long been a staunch supporter of the ship. I will never be able to thank you enough, my friend!
Now then, to the Moments:
I’ve written a summarized analysis of HijiTae and why I like them as a ship before, along with brief mention of other viable Tae and Hijikata ships heavily implied in canon (Kondou, Kyuubei, Mitsuba), so I’m not going to get into them for this post, which is purely to celebrate each HijiTae moment, counting down to what I feel is the most important one.
(5) Episode 18, the “Underwear Thief”
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“Tear him apart.”
“Dismember him and stomp him into the ground.”
“Hey! Both of you are getting very scary!”
Hijikata and Okita are not present in the original manga story arc, but they are added to the anime (no doubt to appeal to audiences with their growing popularity at the time). This is the first instance that made me see the appeal of their potential relationship, as well as the potential friendship that can result from their rare interactions. Early on in the series, I had no particular ships in mind until I watched this episode. Hijikata and Tae start talking about the best ways to torture somebody, and they eventually get so out of hand with their discussion, complete with shoujo anime bubbles and all, that Shinpachi breaks them up because they are too terrifying together. And, indeed, they would be the most terrifying couple in the country.
(4) Character Poll Arc
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“As long as you are around, Shinsengumi, including Kondou-san, won’t be able to stand alone at the top.”
“So you intend to eliminate the woman who is the source of your boss’ scandalous behaviour? I would expect no less from the Demon Vice-Chief. You’re used to doing dirty work.”
Dashing the Fourth Wall to pieces, this arc addresses the original concepts behind some of the characters, particularly those that are based on real historical figures. When Tae rallies Kyuubei, Kagura, Tsukuyo, and Sacchan together to stand against the men, Hijikata and Katsura soon accost them – one to Tae and the other to Kyuubei, and both line-ups make the best sense for each character. Katsura and Kyuubei bicker over their shared characteristics, and they also know each other better since Katsura was once invited to Kyuubei’s birthday party. Tae also knows Katsura, but she’s very familiar to the Shinsengumi for obvious reasons. Hijikata and Tae facing off allows Kondou to seamlessly return to the scene, since he has closer ties to Hijikata and Tae. 
What I enjoy about this interaction is the way Tae is fearless around Hijikata; his demon nickname and reputation don’t intimidate her. She knows just how to push his buttons, too, teasing him about his voice actor and how historians have a bone to pick with such brazen depictions of famed samurai. As for Hijikata, he reveals that he knows just how much of a powerful force she is, wielding great influence over the Shinsengumi, impacting their reputation with their commander under her thumb.
This interaction shows the potential for fun bantering and bickering between them. They don’t hesitate to challenge one another, and as we see in the top two moments below, they also don’t hesitate to support or defend one another/what’s important to them for the other’s sake.
(3) Timeskip Arc
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“Please, for our child’s sake, we have to run away! To a world without gorillas!”
“Did you think something like this would fool me? Give me the kid and scram. I’ll look after him.”
Never in my wildest imagination did I think Sorachi would give us a canon child for this ship. Togoro is the hypothetical son of Hijikata and Tae in an otherwise hilarious farce of a story arc. Tae is noted to be pregnant and married to Kondou, and then gives birth within an hour to a baby whose father is revealed to be Hijikata. She wants to run off with him and raise their child together. Hijikata refuses, saying he will raise the child as a single father. And then he proceeds to name the child (as a fifteenth son and as a combination of his and Tamegoro’s names) and begs Shinpachi to let Togoro live.
Some people say Tae’s ambition was to have a child with Hijikata. To me, it’s more like she envisioned a soap opera plot line, typical of the drama series she watches, especially since when she and Hijikata first talk in the Yagyuu arc, she imagined Kondou and Hijikata vying for her affections in true theatrical style. She could have had that baby with somebody else, but once again, Hijikata is in the mix, and probably made for a more dramatic soap opera story line of a woman caught between the police chief and his deputy.
As for Hijikata’s ambition, well, it’s a little hard to say since he and Shinpachi were the stand-in for the audience, trying to unravel this mystery of a wart-infused world only to find that they had become warts themselves. At least we see that Hijikata, once confronted with the possibility of fatherhood, was willing to take responsibility. He’s not explicitly interested in Tae as a romantic prospect, and I don’t expect it since Sorachi would and should have written obvious interest (something that people can’t deny) between them right from the start, so that it would make sense later.
But, it doesn’t change the fact that Togoro is Hijikata and Tae’s hypothetical son and theirs alone, warts and all.
(2) Farewell Shinsengumi Arc
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“If you really do want to drink, I don’t mind spending a while with you.”
“If you poured it for me with that face, I wouldn’t be able to drink it.”
There are few moments that have triggered Hijikata into fierce emotional reaction. He has shed tears for Mitsuba, the Shinsengumi’s disbandment and Kondou’s arrest, and Kondou’s revival. He’s gotten angry on behalf of not only Kondou, but also Tetsunosuke for what Isaburou was doing and saying to him. Hijikata is short-tempered, most of the time for comedic purposes, and he’s endured many ordeals in his young life, so it takes a lot to push him over the edge into true sorrow and true rage.
Nobu Nobu cuts the neck (actually does cut it in the manga) of a teary-eyed Tae, who defended Kondou and his reputation. She knows she could easily lose her life for going against the Shogun. That was the reason Hijikata had held back on doing or saying anything. Perhaps he feared anything he might do would advance Kondou’s execution, threaten the remaining Shinsengumi, and further endanger civilians’ lives. Feeling he could do nothing, he stood there, taking the shame and the mockery from both Isaburou and Nobu Nobu – that is, until Tae’s life is threatened. And, finally, Hijikata reacts with a terrifying gleam of rage in his eyes.
This is the kind of trope that comes standard with any kind of ship, romantic or platonic, when someone shows great concern and fury for another being threatened. If this were another series, people would be proclaiming “canon” all over the place, but in this fandom, very few acknowledge this scene, and they skip over to other parts instead. But that doesn’t make Hijikata or Tae’s acts insignificant.
As for Tae, we’ve seen her shed tears of sorrow for Kyuubei, for Hajime, and now for Kondou. While it has taken many chapters to reach this point, it’s clear she respects and believes him to be a good man. Standing up to a tyrannical shogun at this point in the story could mean immediate execution. Tae risked her life to defend Kondou, to stand up for what she believed in, and it did not go unnoticed. We know how devoted Hijikata is to Kondou, how his arrest left Hijikata in such a broken state of mind, but Tae’s defense and life-threatening moment sparked something once more; the catalyst needed for when the rest of the Shinsengumi reignited that fire within.
Of course, it could have been anyone else, and Hijikata would have done his best to ensure no civilians are harmed. But he wasn’t able to move or act during that time of mockery by his enemies. He said and felt he couldn’t do anything at all with Kondou gone. But I think hearing Tae’s impassioned speech, sharing in her belief that Kondou would never conduct himself so shamefully, inspired him to act. He knows Tae is important to Kondou, and I like to think Tae is important enough to Hijikata as a comrade, as a friend—and the potential for more is what fans love about this scene.
Kozenigata did call the Shinsengumi, “her police,” and that includes Hijikata. It’s why she played a role in the Farewell Shinsengumi arc, and in the Silver Soul arc, she welcomed them back home to Edo. The Shinsengumi admire, fear, and respect Tae, and so her police they remain.  
(1) Yagyuu Arc
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“I…am the worst, aren’t I? In the end…going off on my own…I got other people hurt because of it. Causing trouble for Kyuu-chan…and for everyone else. Even though I couldn’t see it through until the very end, I did it with such half-hearted conviction… What I did in the end wasn’t for anyone’s sake.”
“You’re not a Buddha. Did you think you could save everyone in front of you? No matter how many bones you break trying, there are things you can save and things you can’t. So what? Is your way of life so fragile that it would break with this? Now, if there was someone who could be saved by your so-called half-hearted kindness…what would you do?”
This is the official first HijiTae moment within Sorachi’s manga canon: the Yagyuu arc launched two new Tae ships. You’d think the previous moment would be the culmination of everything, but it is the beginning that I find the most important because it shows that Hijikata and Tae are capable of civil conversation and speaking to one another as equals.
We first start out with a comedic exchange in which Tae thinks Hijikata has come to battle for her heart against Kondou, followed by a brief banter of which drama series best suits Kondou and Tae’s imaginary tales. But the point of his visit is to convince Tae to marry Kondou just to help him avoid marrying a gorilla. He earns bonus points for saying that “No means no” when a woman declines.
Later, after the main events of the arc, Tae invites everyone back to Snack Smile to apologize to them, but they’re present at Kondou’s wedding. Only Hijikata goes, and I think he went back because he knows Tae has a good heart. He doesn’t ask her specifically to marry Kondou again, but he listens to her outpouring of feelings over the situation. He then gives practical advice, and in a roundabout way, asks if she will consider just saving Kondou from his wedding at least. And Tae does.
What I love about this arc is their conversations – from casual and fun to serious and thought-provoking – and it didn’t take them hundreds of chapters to reach that point. They arrived there easily and naturally. This quiet moment of introspection they share was more than enough for me to solidify my love for them, and that fondness for the HijiTae ship has continued on for almost twelve years.
BONUS: Soul Switch Arc
A bonus only because it doesn’t strictly involve the two of them alone.
People often forget that Tae only blushed after Hijikata-in-Gintoki’s-body flirted with her. She was charmed by Hijikata’s way of flirting, which was very genteel and sincere and a bit impassioned, much like the way he wrote Shinpachi’s letter for Kirara. When Gintoki-in-Hijikata’s body attempted his usual way of flirting, Tae was unimpressed, aside from being skeptical that Hijikata would truly proposition her. However, once she took it as truth, she was more than willing to consider him a prospect.
In my opinion, Gintoki on his own really doesn’t do anything for Tae since the only moments she was romantically attracted to him was when he lost his memories and original personality, and when he was actually Hijikata. She has also mentioned desiring a partner with a stable income, and I can see someone more traditional, not to mention stricter in handling one’s responsibilities, fitting in better with her lifestyle (hence why Kondou and Kyuubei are the other commonly teased ships), whereas Gintoki is more unconventional about life, going at his own pace. Tae always bases her life around goals and working toward them; she’s not the type to sit around, doing nothing, waiting only to welcome people home when she has a life and dream of her own, too.
There are some other minor interactions (not to mention that Otose and Tatsugoro parallel), but these five are the most important and relevant. 
And there you have it. This is a summary of why I enjoy the Hijikata x Tae ship so much. They are both people who hold fast to their convictions, and who do their best to be strong for others’ sake, both leading, respectively, a district and a military police force. They are capable of comedic and civil conversations with one another; prone to bickering but also fighting for one another’s cause based on what they feel is right. At the very least, they remain friends and comrades in the end.
Nothing changes what Sorachi wrote about and for them. It was all his decision, not mine, and if others can celebrate moments for their ship, then there’s no reason I can’t, either. All the negative arguments people throw at me, I have addressed before, so I will not waste time doing so again. I’m not obligated to respond or justify a fictional ship to strangers on the Internet at their demand. Fandom is not a monolith required to bend to a single person’s will, and liking one ship doesn’t cause the erasure of others (that line of reasoning is beyond ridiculous). If you don’t like the ship, the simplest thing is to move on with your life and forget the ship exists.
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regylas · 6 years
Text
Mourne’s Journal V1, C3
This entry appears to have been written on the back of a script and enclosed in a leather binding. Most of the script is missing and there is a pile of ashes nearby indicating that they have been burnt.
I don’t have my journal with me, but I need to get these thoughts written down while they’re still fresh, so I’ll copy the entry over and burn these pages then. These last few days have weighed heavy on my shoulders. I spoke to Nyk late Friday evenin’ about the task I need him to carry out: scoutin’ Gareth’s camp. He reminded me I’d owe him down th’ line. What he really means is that I’ll owe his master, Nethaus Grayson.
I then proceeded to finish meetin’ the promise I made Aurelia a few nights ago that I’d have us married in a few days. It was time, I thought, to finally forget distractions and focus on gettin’ us right, but I was wrong. Turns out, she didn’t care to get married after all.
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I’d gotten it all ready, just needed her, when I found out she’d gone to Dalaran without a word. I tracked her down an’ confronted her. She said she’d left the Shields for the Scrolls an’ Mr. Vithorne needed her for important research into one of our folks. She laid out the research before me, but I didn’t care. It didn’t matter to me why she’d just left, only that she’d skipped out on her own weddin’.
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Shortly after we spoke I sent a script I’d been workin’ on for a play to Ishvaus, hopin’ to get it off my mind and out of my hands before I burned this one like I did the rest I wrote. I included a letter that said:
“Mister Vithorne,
I've a present for ya, I know it ain't ya birthday but I've been workin' on it for a spell. Rumor in the Shields is that the Duchess was lookin' to do somethin' special for Winter's Veil this year and I figured I'd lend a quill.
My ma was a actress when she met my pa and when she was raisnin' me she gave me a special love for theater, so I've penned some plays over the years.
My cousin, Sugar, suggested I pass one of my plays to y'all, let y'all use any proceeds for the needy folk as its gettin' cold. So here I am.
Sealed within the attached wax paper package is a script for a play I wrote last week. Its a farce, as ma said drama never did well in the holidays. I hope you enjoy readin' over it as much as I enjoyed writin' it. Good luck.
-Regylas Mourne”
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I expect he enjoyed it, because this evenin’ at the House meetin’ they handed out copies of the script and are plannin’ to use it to host a play. If I manage to live to see it, that’ll surely lift my spirits. I went back to my duties after mailin’ the package.
Today, my world changed.
Nyk came by around the sixth bell of the afternoon and told me what he’d found. He said he’d reached out to Jedren Alator, the commander of our House’s Scouts and together they’d gone lookin’ to see what they could find in the cemetery south of Darkshire.
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Turns out they came across an encampment of around fifteen men, not the twenty I’d been told by the man I captured a few nights ago. He said they had a bit of a scuffle and took some minor wounds, but he and Jed had dealt with ‘em relatively well. After takin’ out a few sentries they overheard them chatterin’ on about some familiar and unfamiliar faces.
Seems Gareth has relocated to Stranglethorn Vale as he was concerned the blood fued between me and him would cripple his business. Also seems that another lad named Jerell is lookin’ to fill the vacuum Aurelia caused when she took down Baeric, the man that’d kidnapped her last year. Nyk said he and Jed burned down the shack he thought Gareth had been in, but after thinkin’ it through he was pretty sure they’d missed him.
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I’m hopin’ he’s wrong.
After the House meetin’ this evenin’, Aurelia and I ran into each other on the way home. What started out as a little chat turned into somethin’ worse. I’d never told Aurelia about th’ journals, nor about th’ plays and it made her feel like I was a stranger, not tellin’ her that I would put my thoughts to paper.
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I get it, but I don’t see the point in sharin’ such foolishness. Who I am has nothin’ to do with what I scribble when my mind won’t quiet. Besides, what more does she need to know of me than that I love her enough to set aside the rest of my foolishness? To know that I set aside my years as a bandit and take up this monotony of “Aye, sir,” “No, sir,” “Lemme just fall on my sword, sir” so that Faye and Elias can have a father and she can have a husband?
Then she said it, that she was glad she’d gotten cold feet because at least she didn’t marry a stranger.
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So much of my life has been drenched in bloodshed that I don’t talk about it. I fill up a few pages and burn them, lettin’ the act, the memory, burn with ‘em. As ma told me after I nearly beat that farm boy to death as a kid: “Put your thoughts down so that you can get perspective.”
I guess the reason I don’t talk about my past don’t matter much to her, just that I don’t. After we got back to the apartment, things got worse. 
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I shared with her my greatest regret. I told her about th’ first time I’d felt someone dyin’ beneath my hammerin’ blows. I told her about how it felt to break the boy who’d stolen my first love from me piece by piece as I let my rage overpower my sense. I feel like a fool for sharin’ that memory with her.
I can’t make sense of how we got there as I think it over, but the result ain’t changin’ just cause I don’t understand it. After I shared that moment with her, she finally asked the real question thats been burnin’ in her mind: was I seein’ someone else. My tongue got th’ best of me and my first answer was flippant, dismissive. It felt like a joke that she’d even doubt me, but she was deathly serious.
I tired to assure her that I hadn’t, that I’d stayed true to the promise I made her after Sir Martyn and I saved her from Baeric. She wouldn’t hear me, she wouldn’t believe me. She’d already decided that she couldn’t trust me, so she broke off the engagement.
She didn’t care that I’d never lied to her. She didn’t care that I’d always risked everythin’ for her. She only cared about her fears.
In that moment, when I knew that who I was didn’t really matter to her, I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t even speak. I just left. I don’t know where I’ll go next, but I suppose that chapter
The entry ends there. There are signs of a struggle. A broken ink pot and trampled quill lie nearby and the leather-binding containing the journal entry is laying on the ground in the grass. Along the leather binding are written the words: Property of Kathryn Sagar. Regylas’ longsword is lying nearby with blood coating the hilt. His pistol is shattered and laying in a puddle and does not appear to have been fired. There is blood nearby, a considerable amount, though it seems to have begun to dry.
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principlesofdesign · 7 years
Text
Title: us, alone, at the end of the world
Characters: Jay, Finn, brief appearance by Bowen
Premise: At the age of eighteen, young adults gain control of what they fear most. It all ends well, because while I like writing angst, I’m crappy at following through.
Word Count: 3000 
It’s a common misconception that Jay doesn’t know how people despise him, that he, in all his sunlit innocence, is somehow ignorant of the way people’s lips curl when he turns away, the way others hurry away from him now, keeping their hands to themselves. Everyone thinks he doesn’t notice, and if that makes it easier for them, he will let the farce continue.
Jay has always enjoyed games.
“Don’t you get lonely, sometimes?” Finn asks, pushing his muddy soccer ball around with the tip of his finger. Jay knows this because he can see the soccer ball moving, but only slightly, turning slowly in circles. Finn himself is more of a mystery-- Jay knows that, if Finn were visible, his bony knee would be digging into Jay’s thigh, his chin resting on his grubby hand.
With time, he’ll come back, Jay reasons. It usually works out that way.
“Can’t get lonely when there’s nothing to miss.” Jay says, plucking a blade of grass from the ground. It shrivels between his fingertips, the vibrant green fading to a dry, ashy brown. He tosses it over his shoulder. “I try not to think about how it was before.”
Finn chuckles, a sad, empty imitation of the howling laughter that served as the soundtrack to most of Jay’s memories.
“Yeah.” He says, kicking the ball away. It hits a patch of mud with a squelching noise, but Finn makes no move to retrieve it. The wind ruffles the grass around it as it stands still, a monument to decay. “Same here.”
Jay wonders often what touching the clouds would be like.
Would they melt into rain under his hands? Would they be sucked dry of their color, melting into transparency?
He leans his head against the cold glass of the bus window and watches the clouds float by lazily, safe above the busy movement of the world. They’re held apart from the rest, something pure and untouchable. Jay would like to be something like that, but he doubts Finn would enjoy the slow, quiet tranquility of it.
Finn needs the rush, needs change to sweep in and dash him into walls from time to time, and Jay will always choose staying with him over anything else.
They make a good pair, Jay thinks, looking down at Finn, his face smashed into his shoulder. 
Finn’s mouth hangs open, his bottom teeth standing tall and proud in an even, straight semicircle.  One of his hands, nails cut and clean for once, is curled around Jay’s bicep, fingers digging into his shirt. Jay tugs his sleeve down over his finger tips, careful to make sure no skin is left uncovered, and pats the side of Finn’s face. Even despite the precautions Jay had taken, Finn’s skin dries slightly under the touch of his hand. 
Jay pulls it away, heaving a deep sigh. He’ll tend to the plants, when he gets home. That should do it.
The bus rumbles to a stop, and Jay shoves Finn out into the aisle, where he wakes upon falling straight onto the floor.
“What the- The-- Jay?” He mumbles sleepily, and Jay herds him toward the exit, an arm around Finn’s narrow shoulders. Finn leans into him, just awake enough to move his feet, humming happily.
Jay feels warm.
“We were almost home.” He says curtly, once their feet hit the pavement, not ready for a conversation. Finn’s hand comes up to touch the side of his face, and he somehow, immediately, understands. “I had to wake you up.”
“Could’ve been nicer about it”, Finn says with a scowl, and they walk the rest of the way home in silence.
“Why couldn’t we have had normal fears?” Finn asks one day. “Like, fucking rattlesnakes or something?”
Jay shrugs. When young, he’d thought his power would be straightforward-- the smell of antiseptic always made him puke, no matter how long he’d been out of the hospital, so he’d assumed it would be something to do with medicine. Healing, he’d guessed, or maybe medical knowledge.
Instead, he’d started sucking life from everything he touched with his bare hands, which was a bit of a let down.
“I knew mine would be weird.” He replies, running his hand along the leaf of a small, flower shaped succulent Finn had brought home a few days ago. “I just didn’t guess how weird.” Finn had named it Gerald. Gerald’s leaf shrivels under Jay’s touch, the bluish green tones he’s taken on from growing in partial sunlight fading slightly.
Gerald’s a hardy thing, Jay thinks fondly. He’ll be just fine. The right fit for their house.
“And we should’ve seen mine coming.” Finn grimaces, then shovels cereal into his mouth to avoid finishing out his thought. Jay knows what would’ve come after-- Finn would’ve mentioned the disastrous talk with his parents that had ended in him being thrown out on the curb, the years he’d spent bouncing around families in town who hadn’t been warned about him yet, and stopped just short of the day Jay had turned up on his doorstep, asking if he needed a roommate.
“Yours was understandable.” Jay says eventually. He has run out of platitudes, has given every comforting word he can think of. Maybe words aren’t what Finn has needed, all along. “Given what happened.”
“Still could’ve gotten clowns or some shit.” Finn scrubs a hand through his blond hair. He glances at the calendar, then sets his Thomas the Tank Engine bowl, still a quarter full, in the sink. “I’m going back to bed.”
“You take care of yourself.” Jay says, and eats the rest of the cereal, because he’ll be damned if they waste food now, on top of everything else.
The bed frame breaks one day, and Jay spends the afternoon lying there despite it, the disconnected bits of cheap metal framing digging awkwardly into the bottom of the mattress.
He’s sweaty and tired, has had a raging stomachache since morning, can’t even summon up the energy to stumble to the bathroom, suck down a couple mouthfuls of water, and fall back into bed. He’d slept too late, had burned off energy he’s been too used to having, and Finn is gone, away actually doing something to support them both. Jay is scared, terrified, and he clutches at his neck, feeling like the world is closing inward on him. His skin is hot to the touch of his cold hands, and his brain faintly registers it as a fever.
He almost forgets how close he is to death, now that he’s got the luxury of sucking life into himself. Forgetting is a luxury, and he’s grown used to it. Jay closes his eyes and tries to calm himself enough to breathe deeply. It doesn’t work entirely, but he’s no longer in danger of hyperventilating, and that’s good enough. He purses his lips, a few errant tears squeezing their way out from underneath his eyelids and rushing down the curve of his cheeks toward his jaw.
Finn will be home some time, he reminds himself. He will help.
It is easy to forget how helpless you are when death itself bows to you.
“Christ, Jay.” Finn mumbles, clambering into bed beside him. He pulls Jay’s sweaty hands onto his shoulders, rolls Jay’s body toward him with practiced efficiency. Jay wonders if he can feel himself slowing down, if he can feel his constituent parts screaming for their lives, but Finn bears it as he’s born everything important in his life, quietly and without complaint. “How’d you work yourself up like this, huh?”
“Dunno.” Jay replies, licking his dried out lips. “Just felt like it, I guess.”
The joke falls flat, and one of Finn’s hands slips under his sweat soaked shirt to run up and down his side. Jay’s ribs stand out proudly under Finn’s fingers, copper colored skin stretched tightly over them. He’s someone’s half-finished sculpture, sheet metal trapping heat within him, and Finn is putting his pieces back together, slow and careful, knitting him together into something whole. Jay closes his eyes, leans into the touch, and Finn chuckles. Jay can hear the sound forming in Finn’s chest, can practically feel the joy contained within it rushing eagerly up through his throat and squeezing its way out through the gaps between his teeth.
“Just felt like it.” Finn repeats. His hand settles just above Jay’s hipbone, fingers curled around the curve of it. “Quite the excuse, mister.”
“I’ve got a couple more, if you’d hear ‘em.” Jay teases, and Finn lets out an exaggerated groan. The pain in Jay’s stomach is fading, along with the thrumming in his head that he’d barely even noticed. He feels more alive now, like he can think a thought without it being mangled beyond recognition. Jay thinks he shouldn’t feel indebted, but it’s hard to shake feelings of obligation.
“We’ve got some time until morning.” Finn replies easily. “Tell me a good one.”
In the morning, it’s as if nothing had happened, like time had suddenly reset.
Jay visits the Group A plants one by one-- Gerald, Lucy, Winifred, Wiffleball and Orange-- spreading the burden of maintaining his life out evenly between them. The more evenly he does it, the quicker they will recover. Once he feels sufficiently topped up, he tends to the Group B plants, who are on a two week off rotation. He checks the dryness of their soil, reminds himself again to water them on Saturday, and then prepares his breakfast.
Finn lumbers, heavy eyed and clumsy limbed, into the kitchen.
“Got the bed frame.” He says, shooting a cautious glance over at the Group A plants before clumsily swiping his lips across Jay’s jaw line. Jay grimaces and wipes his jaw off on the shoulder of his shirt to the sound of Finn’s laughter. “It’s all fixed.”
“If you’re feeling so handy…” Jay says, looking over at Finn with a mischievous grin on his face, “there’s a few things we need taken care of--”
Finn is out of the room like someone’s lit a fire under his feet, and Jay chuckles.
“Is it safe, Gerald?” Finn whispers loudly behind him. “Am I going to be destroyed if I risk a return?” He pauses for a second, as if waiting for a reply. “That’s absolutely right. I will take your suggestions into consideration. Thank you for your wise input.”
“What does Gerald say?” Jay calls over his shoulder.
“That you’re an asshole!” Finn yells back. “He likes me much better.”
“Does he?” Jay says, a smile on his lips. “Is it because I wouldn’t let him have ice cream for dinner? That’s a matter of health and safety.”
“Health and safety.” Finn laughs. “What a fucking joke. Who needs that?”
“I do. Or I die.” Jay says offhandedly, and immediately knows it’s a mistake. “Sorry.”
“Yeah.” Finn says, a sharp edge to his voice that hadn’t been there before. “I know you’re sorry.”
They don’t speak for a while after that.
“I don’t like when you make jokes about you dying.” Finn reads off a notecard, while standing beside Jay’s side of the bed. He looks stiff and awkward, and Jay wants nothing more than to reach out and touch him, but it feels wrong while Finn is still angry. “It makes me uncomfortable and upset. I just don’t like it when you say things like that about yourself.”
“I get it.” Jay says, sitting up. “You know it’s hard for me not to-- not to say that. I’m just used to thinking…”
“Yeah.” Finn says, sounding exhausted. The tension in his body shatters, and his shoulders slump forward. The notecard slips out of his fingers and floats, abandoned, to the floor. “I can’t imagine what that’s like.”
“I don’t want you to have to.” Jay says, and shifts into Finn’s side of the bed so he can clamber into Jay’s, both of them scraping up tiny pieces of each other for their own. “That’s why I do it enough for both of us.”
Jay moves his hand to cup the side of Finn’s face, but pauses just short. He can feel energy thrumming in his veins, but is it safe? Will he hurt Finn?
“I wish you never had to.” Finn says, leaning toward Jay’s hand to plant kisses on his finger tips. Jay feels like he’s weightless. His hands have always brought death to others, and here Finn is, redeeming them. “I wish none of this ever happened.” Finn’s lips trace a path up Jay’s arm, past his bony shoulders and up his neck.
They are face to face and panting when Jay finally agrees, lips centimeters from each other.
“Yeah.” He says, pulling his deepest, darkest desire out from its hiding place behind his broken heart, and putting it on display. “I wish none of this ever happened either. But I’ve got you, so it can’t be all bad.”
“Nothing’s all bad.” Finn says, laughing. “Except spinach.”
‘Is he here?’ Bowen signs, and Jay shrugs emptily, casting a glance around the living room. No noise, so Finn must be gone or asleep. He never comes by when Finn’s awake. Jay wonders if they’ve signed some kind of contract, one that necessitates complaining about each other to him constantly while also avoiding contact like the plague. ‘I know he’s your friend. I don’t trust him.’
‘He’s doing his best.’ Jay signs back. ‘Finn tries hard.’
He uses Bowen’s sign for Finn, which is technically the sign for asshole, and looks to his left when he sees a quiet shuffle of feet in the doorway. Finn is looking over at him, tears welling up in his eyes, but smiles despite it. He’s fading, Jay can tell, and he reaches out for him as Finn becomes first translucent, then disappears entirely.
Jay feels like his throat is closing.
He can’t hear footsteps. Is Finn still there? He stumbles toward the doorway, hands suddenly clumsy as they swipe through the air, searching for an arm or a shoulder or a face. He can’t form words, can’t force them out of his mouth, so he settles for making his way through the apartment like his limbs are too heavy to navigate the space properly.
His tongue feels heavy in his mouth, his lips unwieldy, and his stomach is churning. He has an image in his head, heavy and bright, of the gods and demons churning the ocean of milk, pulling forth all sorts of treasures. He feels like the demons must have felt, with Vasuki’s face right before theirs, poison blowing into their faces.
“Finn?” He says, when he can finally form words again. He’s patting every surface in their bedroom, looking wildly around him. Finn can’t choose when he disappears, but he has always chosen when to come back. Before now. “Finn? Please.”
“Please what?” Finn says sharply. Jay swings his head around to find nothing. Where is Finn standing? “Please what? You obviously fucking hate me, just like he does, so just say it. Just fucking say it. Rip my damn heart out, Jay. Right now.” Finn’s worked himself into a rage now, fire coursing through his veins, consuming any shred of rationality that might have survived the initial explosion. “Where’s all the paying attention to my needs too shit? Or am I just here to do whatever you want? Am I just here to be thrown around for you?”
“N--no, Finn, no--”
“Oh yeah?” Finn fades back into view in fragments. First angry, clenched fists, then steely eyes, then red flushed cheeks. He comes back to Jay in messy splotches, like wet paint thrown at a canvas, and god, if that isn’t so uniquely Finn that it hurts. “Oh yeah? Then why am I always the one starting things? Why is it always me first? Why are you so willing to just throw your lot in with everyone else in this fucking world but me? I’m always here for you, but the second someone-- someone better shows up, I’m just-- I’m just irrelevant, all over again! Where the fuck do I stand, Jay? What the fuck am I? Because right now it feels like I’m the only one who gives a fuck.”
Jay crosses the room once Finn is fully in view, in quick, purposeful strides, and smashes his lips urgently against Finn’s. Finn is the air in his lungs, the blood pumping through his veins, and god, is this all he’d wanted? Jay would’ve given it long ago, given it freely. If Jay was waiting for a sign all this time, waiting for a confirmation, it had been blindingly bright before his eyes all along.
He draws back, leaving Finn stunned.
“You’re not.” Jay says, while Finn’s jaw works, lips moving but no sound coming out. Jay’s vision is blurry, tears swimming in his eyes, but he chokes out a laugh. Finn is still here. Finn loves him. This wasn’t all for nothing. Fuck. “You’ve never been.” He leans in again, a simple, clumsy swipe of his lips against Finn’s, but it feels right, feels natural, like this is where everything has been leading.
“Yeah.” Finn says, after a second. His face burns red again, but for a different reason. He plays with the hem of his shirt with one hand, the other running through his hair. “Yeah. I can see that.”
“Wake up, shitlord.” Finn says, from where he’s drooling all over Jay’s chest. Jay chuckles and ruffles Finn’s hair. He’s been awake for ten minutes, at the very least, and Finn’s the one that really needs the reminder.
“I’ll do it when you do.” Jay challenges, and Finn practically vaults out of bed, suddenly bright eyed.
“So?” Finn asks, and Jay laughs, slowly swinging his legs over onto the ground. He feels slow and heavy, like he always does in the mornings. He’ll have to visit the plants soon. “You ready, big man?”
“Always.” Jay grins, and races Finn to the bathroom.
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