#if he actually had any semblance of innocence he would sit down and clearly go through the evidence presented and rebute them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

Text

two can keep a secret

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: What is the difference between a secret and a lie? Jason Todd is in love. But will his relationship survive when Y/N realizes she doesn’t know him at all?

Word Count: 9,500+ [One Shot]

Warnings: Violence, mentions of rape, domestic violence, and murder

She is the first thing he thinks of when he slowly comes to.

Not her face, like some glowing angel that you always see in those stupid movie montages, where the protagonist’s wife or girlfriend tragically died and he’s thinking of her.

No, Jason is thinking about how pissed Y/N’s going to be when he misses date night.

Jason didn’t need to go out to a fancy restaurant or cocktail bar to be content. Doing absolutely nothing with Y/N was more than enough for him. But she deserved more than that – not that she ever said so. Jason was the one who insisted on taking her out every so often. So he sucked it up and did anything to make that woman smile. It didn’t hurt that Y/N was too talented at dolling herself up.

Y/N was probably sitting with her hair curled and her makeup done to perfection (after watching a YouTube tutorial for a look she had been wanting to try for weeks). Or, depending on how much time had passed, she had given up and bitterly changed into her pajamas.

The other unfortunate fact was that Y/N still didn’t know that Jason had a double life. She had zero idea that her boyfriend of a few months was also the infamous Red Hood.

So, yeah, Y/N was going to be pissed, thinking that Jason simply forgot about date night or just completely blew her off.

Just when Jason was fighting the migraine to open his eyes, someone kicked his shins roughly.

“I know you’re awake,” someone sang to him.

Jason blinked and squinted, realizing that his helmet was still intact.

Well, that’s one positive.

He looked at the man standing just a few feet away from him. Decked out in a fancy green suit, horned rimmed glasses, and that stupid little bowler hat.

The Riddler.

Jason always found him to be mostly an inconvenience. But clearly he’d done something to piss off the annoying genius, because this was a lot of effort on his part.

“What the fuck do you want?” Jason growled, knowing his voice sounded even more dangerous with his helmet distorting it.

Riddler smiled and put his arms behind his back. “You have become rather troublesome, Red Hood.”

“Oh, how the tables have turned,” Jason answered with sarcasm.

But Jason hadn’t been interfering with the Riddler for quite some time, so he was still rather confused what was going on.

“Our mutual friend is quite tired of you meddling with his business. Also, it’s not cheap to replace all of his goons you keep murdering.”

Jason tilted his head. “You’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

Riddler narrowed his eyes with slight annoyance. “Why the Clown Prince of Crime, of course.” Jason’s body tensed at the name and the Riddler noticed immediately. “He figured if you came back from the dead once before, there’s a chance you could do it again.”

Then the Riddler stopped his pacing and did a dramatic gesture to himself. “Which is where I come in. You see, he thought it would save him some time and effort to simply hire me.” He moved closer to Jason. “He figured if he couldn’t kill you…maybe you deserve a different punishment.”

Jason audible sighed. “Am I supposed to be scared?”

While it sounded like a joke, there was a truth to the question. Jason stopped fearing death long ago. And once you’ve died and come back to life, there’s nothing really that scared Jason Todd anymore. Which was why he had become the ruthless and merciless antihero of Gotham.

Batman would hurt criminals enough to break them. Red Hood would simply kill them.

Though after fighting his family became too much, Jason finally agreed to stop his massacres. But the criminals of Gotham didn’t need to know that. And Jason would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy how much they shook at the mere sight of him.

“Oh, I’m sure we can figure out how to return some fear into that ice cold heart of yours,” Riddler whispered in Jason’s ear before pressing a button.

A swinging light bulb flashed on.

No, no, no, no. no.

Below the source of the light was Y/N, tied to a chair by her hands and feet. A rag was across her mouth and tied at the back of her head. She was only in her underwear and a baggy t-shirt – Jason’s t-shirt. Further proving that she had been ripped from her bed and brought here against her will.

Jason completely controlled his reaction to seeing his girlfriend being held captive just 20 feet across from him. But in reality, his heart was about explode out of his chest.

Not this. Not her. Anything but her.

“What is this?” Jason asked, trying to sound as devoid of emotion as possible. The less she seemed to mean to him, the less Riddler would want to use her against him.

“I think you know exactly what this is, Red Hood.” Then Riddler practically skipped to Y/N’s side, who looked confused and terrified, clearly having no idea why any of this was happening to her of all people.

“Your quarrel is with me, Riddler. There’s no need to involve an innocent civilian.” Jason’s voice was cool and even.

But he ignored Jason and pulled a pistol out from the back of the waist.

Jason couldn’t remain calm any longer. He started struggling against the ties.

“Don’t worry. The fun has just begun. You get these three riddles right and I won’t hurt her – at least…not yet.”

But Jason was looking at Y/N. She was looking back at him, which did little to reassure her. She didn’t know who he was and his helmet wasn’t designed to comfort people.

“Hey, it’s gonna be OK.” He tried to tell her as softly as he could.

For some reason, she nodded. But Jason knew her well enough to see his words had little impact on her. Tears started streaming down her face and her entire body was shaking as she felt the cold metal of a gun pressed to her head.

“Shall we begin?” Riddler asked with a creepily joyful smile.

Jason waited. But as the Riddler was distracted, he was able to maneuver his arms to press the panic button on his wrist to send out a distress signal to the right people. It was his first time using it, always too proud or stubborn to ask for help.

But if Y/N was involved, none of that mattered anymore.

The Riddler’s eerie tone brought him back, “When you have me, you feel like sharing me. But if you do share me, you don’t have me.” He took in a deep breath. “What am I?”

Jason’s chest was heaving with anger. He should’ve been more careful. He should’ve stayed away from Y/N. He was a curse, a disease. Anyone that got close to him just ended up in danger. And he should’ve known better than to think he could be happy without consequences.

“Clock’s ticking, Red Hood.” He cocked the gun. “What am I?”

“A secret,” Jason growled.

“Surprise, surprise. There does seem to be some semblance of a brain underneath that stupid helmet of yours.”

Y/N closed her eyes in relief, causing more tears to escape and slide down her cheeks.

“When you have me more, you can see only less. What am I?” The Riddler asked.

Jason thought on the next riddle as he tried to find one of his knives hidden in his sleeve. But even when he grabbed one, it would take far too long to cut through this thick rope that kept him tied down.

“Darkness,” Jason answered confidently.

The Riddler seemed annoyed now. “One more riddle and then we’ll move on to another game. Or maybe we won’t, if you get it wrong.” He shifted so he was directly behind Y/N and facing Jason as he pointed the gun at the back of her head.

“The person who built it, sold it. The person who bought it, never used it. The person who used it, never saw it.” He tilted his head. “What is it?”

Jason finally found the edge of a knife. He subtly started cutting at the ropes on the back of his chair, praying he could buy himself enough time to get him out.

The Riddler lifted the gun to the ceiling and shot it, causing Y/N to jump and let out a yelp.

“I’m waiting!” He snapped at Jason.

“A coffin!” Jason growled. “Put the gun down and let her go. You’ve had your fun.”

The Riddler laughed. “Oh, you think that this was the main attraction?” He put the gun down, but moved to grip Y/N’s chin roughly.

“Secrets, darkness, coffin,” Riddler listed the three answers aloud. Then he turned to Jason. “What do all of them have in common?”

Riddler moved back behind Y/N and leaned down to whisper in her ear. The feeling alone caused a chill to go down her spine. “You’ve been lied to, my dear. The decision to bring you here was not random at all. That I can promise you.”

“Secrets, secrets are no fun. Secrets, secrets hurt someone,” he sang loudly, his voice echoing in the warehouse. Then he danced back to Y/N and pulled down the rag around her mouth, finally allowing her to speak.

“Red Hood, question for you. How many people have you killed?”

Don’t do this, Jason begged in his mind.

He didn’t answer.

The Riddler didn’t appreciate this and quickly walked to Y/N, smacking her across the face with the back of his hand.

Jason struggled against his restraints.

Riddler whipped back to him. “Answer the question!”

“I don’t know,” he barked back.

“You don’t know because there’s so many?” Riddler challenged.

“I don’t keep track,” Jason answered quickly, knowing his silence would only cause Y/N more pain.

“More then 10?”

“Yes.”

“More then 50?” Riddler asked with an evil grin.

“Yes.”

Riddler turned to Y/N. “It’s actually 83.”

It was the first Jason had heard the number. But he knew better than to question it.

“You call yourself a hero. But looks to me like you’re just a murderer,” the Riddler cooed with a sneer.

Jason hung his head in shame. “I’ve never called myself a hero.”

Riddler ignored his comment and turned his attention fully to Y/N now. “Now this next one is for you, dear. And it’s a tricky one.” The Riddler took in a deep breath. “I hurt the most when lost, yet also when not had at all. I’m sometimes the hardest to express, but the easiest to ignore. I can be given to many…or only just one.”

Y/N swallowed, repeating the words over and over again in her head.

“L-Love,” she finally stuttered out, but seemed sure of her answer.

The Riddler smiled at her response. He turned to Jason. “You sure know how to pick ‘em, Red Hood.” Then he shifted his weight. “Or should I say Jason?”

Jason saw the confusion on Y/N’s face from the comment.

“Tell me dear, did you know you were in love with a murderer?”

Y/N was discombobulated by such a question.

But before she could figure it out, the Riddler rushed to Jason and ripped off his helmet. When he saw that Jason was wearing a domino mask underneath, he rolled his eyes. “All you bats and birds are so paranoid!” Then he ripped that off, too.

Y/N’s eyes widened at the sight of her boyfriend.

But Jason didn’t catch it. He was too busy hanging his head, scared to meet her gaze.

“Surprised?” The Riddler asked her with glee.

Her tears started again. But they weren’t just from being scared now. They were tears of betrayal.

“Oh, sweetheart. Don’t cry,” the Riddler mocked.

“You did what you wanted. Now let her go,” Jason growled.

He tugged at his ropes, but his knife wasn’t cutting fast enough.

“Let her go?” The Riddler was baffled. “Who said anything about letting her go? I said I wasn’t going to hurt her if you cooperated. But killing her is the only way I can hurt you, Red Hood. Don’t worry, I shall make it quick!”

With that he raised his gun to her head once again. Y/N squeezed her eyes shut, truly believing this is how she was going to die.

“NO!” Jason screamed.

But right before pulling the trigger, Riddler’s grip was knocked away by a batarang.

Jason felt sick with relief when he turned to see Batman and Robin making their way to the Riddler.

Riddler was not a fighter. He always made a run for it.

But when he turned to do so, he was met with Nightwing blocking his path.

Jason felt someone drop behind him and realized that Red Robin was getting rid of his restraints.

Riddler looked around him with crazed eyes, realizing he was about to be outnumbered five to one. “This is too many vigilantes for my liking. Time for backup.” He pulled out a button and pressed it before Dick could rip the unknown device from his hands.

An explosion erupted in the warehouse, catching everyone off guard.

Tim had just finally released Jason from his restraints when the impact hit.

Jason saw as Y/N’s chair was knocked off its legs, taking her to the floor with it. Her head slammed against the hard concrete floor.

As soon as the explosion settled, Jason sprinted to her.

When he reached her, she was knocked unconscious. “Y/N! Come on, beautiful. You’re OK. You’re OK.”

But the words were to convince himself. He felt for a pulse and let out a sigh of relief when it was still strong.

Ever so carefully, he untied the ropes that held her to the chair. He ripped his jacket off his body and wrapped it around her shoulders. She seemed so small like this – so vulnerable. He’d tried so hard to keep her away from this darkness. And seeing her like this was the horrid reminder for why he’d lied to her about who he was.

His family watched with concern as Jason stood with her limp body in his arms. By some miracle, the blast missed all of them. It was used as more of a distraction than as an attempt to take any of them out.

Jason slowly walked to Bruce.

“Take her. Please.” His eyes desperate at first, but then they darkened. “There’s something I have to do.”

Bruce’s jaw tightened. “We had a deal.”

But he still gently took Y/N out of his arms.

“That was before her,” Jason answered as he took a final glance at Y/N.

“Jason, don’t do it,” Dick urged.

“Keep her safe,” was all Jason said before turning from them and running after the man that had put his love in danger.

“What shall we do with her?” Damian asked coldly as he eyed the young woman he was seeing for the first time.

“We’re taking her back to the manor,” Bruce told his sons.

“Is that wise?” Damian countered.

“He’ll need her. And she’ll need to know everything,” was all Bruce said as he started carrying Y/N to the batmobile.

————————

Y/N wasn’t awoken by people screaming from the streets below or the garbage truck coming too early to throw every neighbor’s trash can around at 5AM. She couldn’t hear the blasting of her window unit air conditioning.

No, instead she heard birds chirping outside and the wind rustling countless trees.

Did she even have a single tree on her block?

She squinted her eyes open and the night came rushing back to her.

Goons storming into her apartment, ripping her from her bed and throwing a bag over her head. Y/N just remembered thinking, “I’m just glad Jason wasn’t here. At least he’s safe.”

But Jason was far from safe. He was Red Hood: the infamous anti-hero that half of Gotham thought was a murderer and the other half swore he was just as much of a hero as the the other masked vigilantes.

How did she not see it sooner?

The random cuts and bruises. Constantly missing dates. Late-night texts when she had already fallen asleep. Always being exhausted when he was present.

But it was easy to ignore all of this because when they were together, things were good – no, things were amazing.

No man had ever made Y/N feel more seen and loved and appreciated. In fact, before him, Y/N had come to terms with being alone for the rest of her life. She made peace with it, had no problem with it.

But then Jason came stumbling into her life. And he didn’t accept Y/N being unloved the way she did. It was the thing that made him get over his own self-hatred and constant need to punish himself. If he wasn’t going to love Y/N for him, then he’d love Y/N because that’s what she deserved.

And Y/N felt that.

But he wasn’t who she thought he was. He had lied to her over and over again. When she was concerned over his injuries, he made up story after story. When she asked where he’d been after skipping a date, he used work as an excuse.

Did Y/N actually know Jason Todd at all?

Or had she only seen what she wanted to see?

Did the man she love even exist?

These were the questions racing through Y/N’s mind as she awoke in a bedroom that she didn’t recognize. Bedroom – if that’s even what she could call it. It felt more like a palace. She’d never slept on softer sheets or a comfier mattress. The room was bigger than her entire apartment. And from what she could see in the ensuite bathroom, it looked like it belonged in a five-star hotel.

Y/N’s observations paused when she saw Red Hood’s leather jacket tossed on top of the fancy chaise lounge on the other side of the room. No, not Red Hood’s leather jacket. Jason’s. It was the only indication that he had been there.

Am I in Wayne Manor? Y/N asked herself.

At least Jason hadn’t lied about that, explaining his afflicted relationship with his family casually a few times. But in a way that always told Y/N he didn’t want to talk about it in depth.

The leather jacket then caused Y/N to look down at herself. She was wearing a white t-shirt and grey cotton sleep shorts. Clearly they were mens. Someone had changed her while she had been asleep – or…unconscious.

Fuck, her head really hurt.

Having enough of being confused, Y/N slipped out of the bed and decided she was going to hunt down an explanation.

The bedroom was placed in a long hallway. Taking a 50/50 chance, Y/N decided to go right instead of left.

She walked as quietly as possible, still feeling uncomfortable in such surroundings.

After she stepped down the most extravagant staircase she’d ever seen, she heard sounds come from around the corner. It sounded like movement in a kitchen.

When she reached a doorway, she saw an elderly man dressed as a butler. As he was cooking, he caught Y/N’s presence from the corner of his eye. He quickly turned and gave her a comforting smile.

“Ah! Ms. Y/L/N, your timing is impeccable. I was just finishing up breakfast.”

But she remained unsure of the situation.

“Oh, I do apologize. Where are my manners? I am Alfred Pennyworth.” He quickly stepped to her and offered his hand. “I am the butler for the Wayne family.”

“So…this is Wayne Manor?” Y/N asked after awkwardly shaking his hand in the doorway, completely forgetting to share her own name. But he cleary already knew it.

He smiled at her. “Yes, Master Wayne brought you here after last nights…theatrics.” Before either of them could discuss the “theatrics” he slyly mentioned, he pulled out a chair at the table in the kitchen. “Please, sit. You must be famished.”

This man hardly looked threatening, so she decided to follow his instructions.

Alfred quickly placed a large plate with a full English breakfast on it, a mug of steaming coffee, and a glass of water. Then he offered her a bottle of advil.

Y/N looked up at him with a curious glance.

“I can only assume your head is aching quite a bit. From what I was told, you took quite the fall from the explosion.”

At least Y/N knew she hadn’t imagined the nightmare. It was real. She quickly took two of the pills and chugged the glass of water.

Alfred didn’t hover, instead continuing to work on more breakfast.

But Y/N’s breakfast was quickly interrupted when Bruce Wayne walked into the kitchen.

He eyed her carefully, hiding his surprise at her being awake. Casually, he went to the coffee pot to pour himself a cup.

“How are you feeling?” Bruce asked her.

Y/N was surprised how genuine his concern sounded.

“Confused,” she blustered out without meaning to.

Bruce smirked. “I meant your head.”

She cleared her throat. “Right. Ummm…just a terrible headache. But I think I’ll live.”

“Good.”

To her shock, Bruce sat across from her. He drank his coffee as his eyes raced across the tablet in his hand.

Y/N took a few bites of food before she had the courage to ask one of the many questions that were racing around her head.

“Where is Jason?” She asked slowly and carefully.

Alfred seemed to tense at the question and hesitated before saying, “Master Jason thought it best to give you some space.”

Y/N didn’t know what to make of his answer.

Bruce seemed to be studying her.

Y/N wanted to shrink under his scrutiny, but fought the feeling and met his gaze head on, as if challenging him.

“He’s in the cave,” Bruce told her evenly.

It seemed no one was trying to hide their family secrets from Y/N.

“I’d like to see him.”

Bruce and Alfred shared a look and what seemed to be a silent conversation.

After a moment, Bruce stood up. “I’ll take you.”

Y/N jumped out of her seat to follow him.

Next thing she knew, Bruce was taking her through a secret passage and there was a dark and dreary staircase in front of her.

Bruce gestured for her to go forward, silently telling her he wasn’t coming with.

As soon as Y/N started down the cold staircase, a shiver went down her spin. The temperature immediately dropped.

When she reached the bottom, she looked around and found Jason sparring with a man she recognized as Dick Grayson.

Jason did a double take as soon as Y/N took a step away from the staircase.

Dick followed his gaze and his face dropped.

The two men shared a look and their sparring ended.

Dick walked to her and gave Y/N a charming smile as he held out his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N. I’m Dick.”

Y/N forced a shy smirk and shook his hand, but said nothing.

Now it was just Jason and Y/N.

Y/N’s arms tightly held herself because of the freezing temperature of the batcave, and because she didn’t know how this conversation was about to end.

“Hi,” Jason said awkwardly.

“Hi.”

“How’d you get down here?”

Y/N shrugged. “Bruce.”

Jason looked her up and down before quickly turning and grabbing the sweatshirt he had discarded before working out and sparring.

He handed it to her, making sure not to get too close. “Here. It gets fucking frigid in this stupid cave.”

Y/N quickly put it on. But she didn’t miss how Jason tried to keep his distance.

“I’m not scared of you,” she muttered.

He cocked an eyebrow, but she could still see the hurt in his face. “Really? Because you’re not looking at me like I’m the same person.”

“Because you’re not,” Y/N snapped.

Y/N imagined this conversation would be filled with rage. She thought she’d start yelling at Jason and then she wouldn’t be able to stop. She’d tell him how disappointed she was in him, how he was just like every other man who had hurt her. Her hands would be quivering in fists at her side. The anger…it would consume her.

So imagine her surprise when her bottom lip started trembling and tears started streaming down her face. And she could do nothing to stop it.

Little did she know that watching this hurt Jason more than her anger ever could.

He took a step toward her. It was his instinct – an instinct that was so hard to fight in this moment.

“You know…it’s really hard for me to let people in – no, it’s hard for me to let men in. I don’t trust them. I stop doing that a long time ago. But you – fuck – I don’t even know why now. But I did let you in. I really did. I told you things I’ve never told anyone. I trusted you. I…I loved you, Jason.”

Jason looked in more pain than ever before. His eyes watered from seeing the woman he loved breaking down like this. And it was no one else’s fault, but his own.

“But you hid this whole part of yourself. You lied to me. Every excuse you made for your bruises and cuts, you were lying. Every time you canceled a date, you were lying. And I’m realizing that you lied to me about your life more than you ever told me the truth.”

She tried to wipe away the tears, but they were coming down too fast.

“Was the Riddler serious?” She accused. “Have you killed all those people?”

“I have.”

Y/N studied him for a second. A part of her hadn’t expected him to admit it. She was waiting for him to give her another lie. After all, it came so naturally to him.

“Were you ever going to tell me?” She practically whimpered.

“Yes,” he answered quickly. “I just…I didn’t know how. I was scared.”

Was there even anything he could say that would make her hate him less?

Jason ran a hand through his hair. “Y/N, I’m so sorry. I should’ve told you. And I should’ve kept you safe. You almost–” He felt sick. “You were almost killed last night. And it was because of me.”

Y/N’s eyes went dark. “Did you kill him? Did you kill the Riddler?”

Jason’s jaw clenched and his hands turned into fists at the mentioning of the criminal’s name. “No, but I should’ve.”

In truth, he almost had. It hadn’t been hard to catch up to the bastard. Jason beat him to in an inch of his death. But not before he confirmed that no one else knew of Y/N’s existence. No, he didn’t kill the Riddler. But he beat him so badly that he would be in the coma for the rest of his days – unable to speak, meaning no one else would ever know about Y/N.

“I don’t do that anymore. Bruce and I…we have a deal.”

“He’s Batman,” she wasn’t asking. “And your brothers…” she didn’t need to finish.

“I don’t expect you to forgive me.” His head hung low. “I don’t deserve it. And I never deserved you in the first place. I always knew that. It’s probably why it was so hard to tell you. Because I knew the moment I did… you’d see me for the monster I really am.”

Y/N’s eyes were red now and her nose congested.

“You don’t owe me anything. But I just…I need to tell you this before I never see you again,” Jason quickly said, sensing this was their final goodbye. “I love you. I didn’t even think I could love someone the way I love you, Y/N. You…you’ve made me better. And you’re probably the only reason I was able to stop myself from killing that son of a bitch last night.”

It was Y/N’s face Jason saw when he was beating the Riddler. And then he realized, in some twisted way, that such a death would also be on her hands. He could handle having blood on his hands forever. But would never do that to Y/N.

Then Jason’s word turned so, so quiet. “But I also know I can’t ask you to stay after everything I’ve done to you.”

And for a moment, the two of them just stared at one another.

Y/N tried to wipe the last of her tears away once again. “I think I should go,” she mumbled.

“You can’t go back to your apartment. It’s not safe there anymore. Bruce offered to let you stay here for as long as necessary. I’ll leave,” he quickly added. “So you don’t have to worry about being around me.”

“No.”

“No?”

“I’m not staying here,” she said with a surprising amount of conviction. “I’ll stay with friends or something. But I don’t want to be here.”

What Y/N meant was that she didn’t want to be surrounded by the secrets Jason had kept from her. She didn’t want to be reminded of how little she actually knew him.

Somehow Jason seemed to realize that.

He took a cautious step toward her. “For what it’s worth, you do know me. I know you think that’s a lie. But no one sees me like you see me, Y/N. No one.” He pointed up. “Not even the fucked up people that call me their family.”

His words struck in a way she wasn’t expecting. But she made sure he didn’t know that and controlled her expression, staying as emotionless as possible.

Jason sighed, knowing this was their end. “Alfred will take you anywhere you want to go.”

He wanted to tell her more. He wanted to ask – no, to beg – to hold her. Just one last time. But he would never ask that of her. How could he?

So he just watched as Y/N slowly turned and made her way back of the stairs.

Jason wanted to memorize her face as if this was the last time he’d lay eyes on her. But he knew himself better than that. He’d make sure she was safe, add her to his patrol as if it was normal addition to his vigilante life. Y/N didn’t deserve to be at risk for the rest of her life because she made the mistake of loving a man like him.

————————

1 MONTH LATER.

————————

Y/N didn’t realize how hard it would be. She thought she could just go back to the life she had before Jason ever fought his way into her heart. But it took her a month to understand that was never going to happen. She’d never be able to just forget him.

She thought anger would take over and make her hate Jason. Hate was always easier than love. And Y/N was banking on that.

But after everything Jason did, Y/N still couldn’t find it in her heart to hate him.

Because, at the end of the day, they still loved each other.

Despite his secrets and his lies, Y/N knew that Jason had been telling the truth about his feelings for her. He really did love her. She had felt it every day. Even at the beginning of their relationship – before they realized what they were feeling was love – Y/N always felt how much Jason cared for her.

That was why all of this was so hard for her.

Take away the lies, the secret vigilante life, the killing. Take it all away. And Y/N knew she had never met another man that made her feel the way Jason did – or…had.

That was really what Y/N had finally realized over the past weeks. She had thought it was betrayal and fear.

No.

She now understood that what she was feeling was a broken heart.

It was a first for her. One had to be in love in order to get their heart broken. And the only man Y/N ever loved was Jason Todd.

As the understanding washed over Y/N, she was staring out the window. She’d made herself a cup of coffee, but had been so lost in her thoughts that she’d let it grow cold. Then she felt a tickling down her cheek and realized that she had started crying.

Suddenly there was a quick knock at the front door of her apartment.

Y/N squinted in suspicion at the sound and sloppily rubbed the tears off her face.

She slowly walked to door, but stopped a few feet away, and just stared at it as her heart rate increased.

After Riddler’s men broke into her home and ripped her from bed, she had been anxious and cautious about any and all unexpected visitors. She hadn’t been sleeping. Either she couldn’t fall asleep or if she did, her night was infested with nightmares.

“Y/N? It’s Dick Grayson,” a voice called from the other side of the door.

She let out a small sigh of relief. How long had she been holding her breath?

There was a part of her that was screaming to still ignore the uninvited guest, despite it being someone she knew. But how well did she actually know Dick Grayson?

Except the other part – the part that could admit she missed Jason – wanted to speak to anyone that was from the part of her life she was trying so hard to forget.

Ever so slowly, she opened the door.

“Hi,” Dick beamed at seeing her appear. His smile and eyes were warm and friendly in a way that none of the other boys were.

“What are you doing here?” Y/N asked with a bit of rudeness.

She didn’t appreciate him giving her a scare. Especially because her two best friends that she now lived with were out of town for the weekend.

“I was hoping I could talk to you,” he gave her a shy but hopeful grin. Then he held up a tray of coffee and a paper baggie. “I brought you a latte and some doughnuts.”

Y/N eyed him. Her first thought was that maybe something had happened to Jason. But Dick’s delivery proved that wasn’t the case.

Her only invitation to Dick was a widening of the door and making room for him to walk past her.

This seemed to make him happy though.

Y/N directed them to the little breakfast nook that was flooded in the morning light.

She didn’t waste any time. “Did Jason send you here?”

“No, Jason doesn’t know that I’m here,” Dick clarified as he slid one of the lattes to her side of the table.

Her nerves were the only reason she picked it up and started sipping, just trying to give herself something physical to do while Dick stared at her from across the little table.

“Is he OK?” She mumbled without looking at him.

Her pride wanted to her to shut up and not ask. But she couldn’t stop the question from spilling out, even though all evidence pointed to Dick having no bad news to share.

“He’s fine,” Dick quickly assured her. “Well…physically, at least.”

“What are you doing here, Dick?” She repeated her original question.

“It should be Bruce here, really. But he…” His words died out and then he cleared his throat. “Well, these types of things aren’t exactly his strong suit. Tim wanted to come, too. But I didn’t want to…overwhelm you.”

“And what ‘type’ of thing is this exactly?”

Dick took in a deep breath and then leaned forward, placing his forearms on the table.

“You deserve to know the story – the whole story. I’m not here to get you to forgive Jason or to change your mind about leaving him.” He rubbed his face. “But I just want you to know the truth about him before you live with those decisions.”

Y/N’s heart was racing now. She felt sick.

Was she even ready for this conversation?

“So, is that OK?” Dick asked her carefully.

After a moment, Y/N finally nodded her head.

Dick took a deep breath.

He knew where he needed to start. And he wasn’t just about to share Jason’s secrets, he was about to tell Y/N all of their secrets. But it was what needed to be done.

Dick told her about Jason living on the streets, how his dad abused him, and his mother was a drug addict that couldn’t protect her son. Little Jason Todd turned to crime to take care of himself and get enough money to take care of himself and his mom.

Dick smiled as he told her how Jason tried to steel Bruce’s wheels on the batmobile. That was the moment that Bruce knew he couldn’t leave such a desperate child on the streets. Then everything happened so quickly. Next thing Dick knew, Jason had replaced him as Robin and Bruce had a new sidekick.

“I should’ve been there for him more,” Dick confessed. “Jason didn’t just need a home and a parent… he needed a brother, too. And I take responsibility for not really being there for him. If I’m being honest, I was bitter. It was hard for me to see how quickly Bruce could just…”

“Replace you?” Y/N offered softly.

Dick swallowed and nodded.

This was the hard part. Now he had to explain how Jason died, how the Joker tricked a child who was desperate to find the truth about his mother. How a dead boy became a resurrected man.

Dick knew he couldn’t gloss over the gory details. Jason deserved better. He didn’t need to have his secrets protected from the first woman who loved him. He needed to be seen and still loved.

Dick watched as Y/N shifted in her seat, trying her best to compose herself as Dick told her about Jason dying so horribly and then being resurrected. Joker’s maniacal laugh flashed in Y/N’s mind. As Dick spoke, she could almost feel the warmth of the explosion that he’d set for Jason.

It was all so terrible.

How Jason was able to overcome it all left Y/N in awe of him.

“Jason has never really fully been himself since before…everything,” Dick said. “But it wasn’t fair that any of us ever expected that after what happened to him. I know there’s still so much that he’s never told any of us. And I’m not sure he ever will.”

Dick explained Jason’s rebellion from the family and his war with Bruce. Dick was the one that got emotional now, as his eyes glossed over, remembering how angry and ruthless Jason had been.

“Bruce has one rule: no killing.” Dick sighed and rubbed his face. “Jason thought he was being what Gotham needed. He was tired of watching criminal after criminal beat the system and repeatedly get set free. We eventually had to make a deal with him. We couldn’t stand by and let him continue on the way he was.”

Dick gave her a nervous look. “I can only assume that the hardest thing to wrap your mind around is the–”

“Killing,” Y/N quickly interrupted harshly.

Until now, she had remained quiet but engaged. Never interrupting or adding unnecessary responses.

“Yes,” Dick replied before tightening his jaw.

Y/N couldn’t look at him now. “I know–” She had to pause because her voice was shaking so much. “I know he did it to protect people. And I know – in his mind – that they deserved it, because they were bad people.”

“I might not agree with Jason’s views or his past actions. But one thing is for sure: Jason Todd has never killed an innocent.”

“I just don’t know if that’s enough,” Y/N said with teary eyes.

“I understand,” Dick nodded.

There had been a part of her that always knew Jason was fighting demons. But she could’ve never guessed how bad it had truly been for him.

How could he hide all of this from her?

Y/N couldn’t hold back her emotions any longer. After hearing Jason’s life story, how could she? Tears silently ran down her face. She wasn’t embarrassed to cry in front of Dick. He had such a calming presence about him.

Dick just let her consume everything he’d spent the past hour telling her. He just wanted to be there for her as she processed it.

So he sat there and let her cry. And eventually she got a hold of herself.

“You’re forgetting the most important part of this story,” Dick told her with a shy smile.

“I am?”

Dick nodded. “You.”

She scoffed at that.

“I’m being serious, Y/N.” Dick leaned forward again.

Y/N didn’t know what to say to that. She wasn’t one to share her emotions and feelings freely. So she wasn’t about to open up to her ex’s older brother, whom she hardly knew.

“He loves you, Y/N.” Dick insisted.

“None of you even knew about me,” Y/N tried to argue.

“That’s not true. Just because he didn’t tell us directly doesn’t mean we didn’t know about you.” Dick smirked. “We’re a nosey bunch. When we noticed a change in him – a good change – we did a little investigating.”

Y/N couldn’t find it in her to tell Dick that Jason made her change for the better too.

So she changed the subject to what was really stopping her from running back into Jason’s arms despite all the lies and secrets.

“How did you get over it?” Her voice was so quite that it was almost a whisper.

“Get over what?” Dick squinted.

“The killing.”

He sighed and leaned back in his chair. “Police Officers kill people every day.”

Y/N made a look of disgust. “Law enforcement in this country is corrupt. I figured a man who felt the need to wear a mask and become a vigilante was well aware of that.”

Dick winced. “Why do you think Gotham is so hard to clean up?”

She stayed quiet.

“Soldiers have killed more people on a single tour than Jason has,” Dick continued.

“Soldiers are following orders,” Y/N countered. “Orders from authority whose ethics and motives are often questionable.”

“Exactly.” Dick’s back straightened. “We’ve normalized both of those things. But I can assure you of one thing, Jason has no ulterior motives. There is no systemic prejudice that controls his actions. Just right and wrong, good and evil.”

Then he rubbed his face, wondering if he wanted to say the next part. “When things with Jason were bad – really bad – and I thought I would have to be the one that put him behind bars, the one thing that gave me hope was knowing that Jason had rid the world of evil. That doesn’t mean I condone his actions…but it helps me sleep at night.”

Silence filled the apartment. Y/N was still processing the information. And Dick didn’t want to force her to talk or speak just to fill the silence.

Slowly, Dick rose from his seat.

“I don’t want to intrude any more than I already have,” he told her gently.

There were those classic Wayne manners that both Bruce and Alfred had ingrained in him. It reminded Y/N of Jason. Even though Jason had a dark, sarcastic sense of humor and quite the temper, Y/N couldn’t remember a time when the man didn’t say ‘please’ and ‘thank you’ – not to mention all the old-school gentlemanly gestures that always caught her off guard.

Y/N followed Dick to the door.

He hesitated. “Thank you for listening, Y/N.”

She just nodded.

“Like I said when I got here, I’m not telling you what to do. All I ask is that you consider everything you learned.”

She nodded again. “You’re a good brother, Dick.”

He chuckled darkly at that. “Jason would disagree with you on that. I’m lucky if he even calls me his brother most of the time.”

Y/N managed to force a shy smirk on her lips for his benefit.

Then Dick was reaching into his pocket for a piece of paper. He slowly handed it over.

She looked down to see what appeared to be an address. “What’s this?”

“The safe house Jason’s been hiding out in since you last talked.” Then he gave her one final nod. “Goodbye, Y/N.”

————————————— 3 WEEKS LATER. —————————————

Jason had been on autopilot these past couple of months. He let his work take over his life. To make matters worse, he barely added eating and sleeping to that mix. The only reason he managed to get himself to eat was to keep his strength up… so he could keep working.

Right now was the one of the few times his exhaustion was so heavy that he managed to get a couple hours of sleep.

That is until one of the alarms for his safe house went off.

Someone had triggered the sensor for the floor.

It could easily be a homeless person. It wouldn’t be the first time. But that assumption went on the window when Jason heard a polite knock at his front door.

Completely silent, Jason moved out of bed and grabbed the gun that sat on his nightstand.

Quickly he tiptoed to the door and waited, half expecting someone to start shooting. It wouldn’t have mattered, seeing as the door was made out of bulletproof steel.

Without making a sound, he made his way to the peephole.

When he spotted who was on the other side, his body moved on reflex alone. He instantly put the gun on safety and whipped open the door.

His guest jumped a little in surprise.

“Y/N,” Jason gasped.

Once she got over the scare, she seemed to take in his appearance.

Jason looked awful. There were shadows under his eyes. His hair looked greasy from the lack of washing. And because he was “working” so much, his body was littered in more injuries than usual. He stood completely shirtless in black boxer briefs.

But the only thing Jason was embarrassed about was his autopsy scar that was on full display for her.

Yes, Y/N had seen and felt it. But it was always in the cover of darkness. If they had sex in daylight, Jason always found a way to keep a shirt on. It was always effortless and subtle. Plus Y/N was so preoccupied with the passion between them that she never really considered how self-conscious he was about it.

Once again, Y/N was wondering why she normalized things like that instead of pushing Jason to open up about things he was obviously hiding.

She had assumed they were scars from his childhood. He had told her his dad was abusive and his mom did nothing to protect him. Y/N thought the scars were from an incident – an incident that was too traumatizing for him open up to her about.

But they were autopsy scars… Because Jason had died once.

“Did I wake you?” She asked him gently.

“No,” he quickly lied. Then he shook his head, still processing that she was standing in front of him. “Come in,” he hurriedly added.

She game him a grateful nod and walked past him.

Her eyes quickly took in the safe house. It looked like an industrial loft. But what she was really locking on to was the multiple tables covered in weapons and gear.

After all that time of Jason’s vigilante life being hidden, now it was all completely on display for her to see.

“Are you OK?” Jason quickly asked her.

She nodded.

“How is your new place?” He then asked.

“Fine,” she offered.

“Your roommates are OK?”

She nodded again.

“Are you sleeping alright?”

“Jason,” she said it sternly, in a tone that she knew would make him finally stop with the frantic questions. “I came to talk to you.”

This took him aback.

Then he looked around him. There was a fold out table a few feet away from them.

“Here,” he muttered before rushing forward and moving what appeared to be a dozen knives and multiple guns.

He pulled out one of the chairs and motioned for her to sit.

Then Jason seemed to finally realize his state of undress. “I’ll…just give me a second.”

Y/N would’ve laughed at his adorable franticness. But she was too busy feeling nauseous and anxious.

She turned her back to him changing since the loft style gave little privacy. 30 seconds later, Jason was moving back to the table and sitting across from her in a black hoodie and sweatpants.

Y/N gently cleared her throat. Her gaze couldn’t meet Jason’s as she said, “Dick came to see me.”

Jason’s face darkened. “I’m sorry. He shouldn’t have done that. I’ll ta–”

“No, it’s fine.” Then she shifted in her seat. “He came to…uhh…he came to talk to me about you, actually.”

That wasn’t what Jason was expecting.

“He told me everything,” she stated. “I mean, everything you never did.”

The true meaning of her words slowly washed over Jason.

He leaned back in his chair, his massive form making it squeak.

Y/N took in a shaky breath. “Jason…I’m-I’m so sorry.”

He shifted his weight.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/N.” He told her quietly.

Usually Jason’s death and resurrection was a joke. He loved making his family cringe, shrink, and become uncomfortable with his dark humor about it. That was just how he’d grown to deal with it all.

But he couldn’t do the same for Y/N.

A few beats of silence passed between them.

“I miss you,” Y/N finally told him.

Jason’s eyes widened at the confession. “I miss you, too.”

Silence again.

“Was I just part of a cover?” She quickly asked him.

“No,” he immediately answered.

“Was our relationship even real?”

“Yes, Y/N. I promise you that it was.”

Y/N bit her lip. She came here with no plan. And now it was starting to feel very real. She knew what she needed to know and she knew what she needed to say. But she wasn’t sure how to get there.

“Do you still love me?” She whispered.

Jason flinched at the question – not because of the answer, but because she felt the need to even ask it.

He nodded.

“After everything that’s happened,” she began, “what would a relationship between us even be, Jason?”

This was not the follow-up question he was expecting.

“What do you want it to be?”

But what he really wanted to say was it could be anything she wanted. He would do absolutely anything to get her back. Anything.

Still, he didn’t want to push her. So he let her take the lead.

“No more lies,” Y/N demanded. Jason opened his mouth, but she cut him off. “I know you can’t tell me the details of the nightly occurrences from your…other life.”

“It was to keep you safe,” he tried to explain. “The less you know, the safer you are. No one can try to use you for information.”

Y/N nodded in understanding. “I’m saying no more lies about where you are or why you can’t make something. And no more hiding injuries.”

Jason nodded firmly, trying to mask his eagerness.

“But more importantly…No more lies about your past. Dick may have told me everything he knew. But I know there’s missing parts and it’s only his perspective.” Then she hesitated, “And I’d…I’d like to hear it from you.”

Jason felt sick by the idea. He thought maybe he’d gotten out of such a request because of his nosey brother.

“You might not like what you find…” he warned her.

But Y/N was already shaking her head. “You know me inside and out.”

Jason did a weird half shrug, half nod. “I like to think so.”

“Don’t you think I deserve the same?”

Jason knew he had a point. But he loved everything about her. Y/N’s flaws weren’t even flaws to him. They were just what made her the woman she was. And that so happened to a woman he was deeply in love with.

But his sins? They were what convinced him that he was unlovable – a monster.

“You do,” Jason agreed with a mumble.

Y/N struggled to swallow with how dry her throat had suddenly become. “You had made a deal with your family – a deal you almost broke because of me.”

Jason knew what she was really asking. She didn’t even really know what she wanted.

“You want to know about the people I’ve killed,” he said low and even.

But she didn’t answer.

Jason leaned forward on the table and thought over her request. He rubbed the scruff on his jawline and chin.

“One was a man who was trying to rip down the pants of 5 year old girl in an alley of the Narrows.” His expression and tone was numb as he started listing them. “Another was an abusive husband that pushed his pregnant wife down a flight of stairs, causing her to have a miscarriage and almost die.”

Y/N felt sick as she listened.

“The last person I killed was Gotham’s number one human trafficker. When I asked him – with a gun to his head – how he had such a lack of remorse, he said, ‘These sickos are going to find their fun one place or another, I might as well make a buck off it.’”

Y/N could tell as Jason shared these stories that he felt no remorse for his executions.

“Bruce would tell you that every one deserves a chance to change. Or he’ll tell you that we’re not the law, we’re just enforcing it.” Jason shook his head. “But I’ve seen thousands of rapists, murderers, and – god knows what else – get freed time and time again. They may get locked up for a bit, but most of them find their way back on the streets. The system is broken. I know it. You know it. And Bruce knows it.”

Then his eyes darkened. “And before you ask, I wouldn’t take any of it back. Truthfully, I believe the world is a better place without those fuckers in it.”

As harsh as it sounded, Y/N appreciated the honesty. And perhaps there was a part of her that agreed with him.

Jason was right: she did know the system was broken, just as much as he did. But she wasn’t in a position to execute the same justice as he could.

“Can I ask you something in return?” The softness in his voice surprised Y/N.

She nodded her head.

“That morning at the manor…you said you weren’t scared of me.” He paused. “Were you telling the truth?”

“I wasn’t scared of you – at least, not like you’re implying. I felt–” She searched for the right word. “Defenseless. Because you knew me, but I didn’t know you anymore. Does that make sense?”

Jason nodded. “And what about now? After knowing all I’ve done.”

To his surprise, Y/N reached across the table and gently grabbed one his hands. She held it in her grasp, tracing the lines in his palm. The skin was rough and scarred.

After so long without it, the feeling of her touch caused a shiver to go down Jason’s spine.

Y/N knew these hands had killed dozens of people. But she also knew that they’d been nothing but gentle with her.

“You’ve never hurt me, Jason.”

“I never would,” he answered quietly, almost with a certain desperation.

She nodded, already knowing that.

“No matter what happens with us, I don’t ever want you to be scared of me, Y/N.”

Then she was crying and jumped from her seat. Without even thinking, she was on the other side of the table, throwing herself onto Jason’s lap, and wrapping her arms around him. Jason pulled her even tighter to him, cradling her face to his neck.

“I’m sorry, Y/N. For everything. I just…I just want you back. OK?”

Y/N pulled away and Jason wiped the tears from her cheeks. She nodded and gave him a teary smile, “OK.”

Their relationship wouldn’t mend itself just like that. They were going to have to work at it. But with all their secrets on the table, they knew what they were fighting. And from now on, they were going to face them together.

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

Yeesh. That one was a lot.

Let me know what you think!

(If you have criticisms about how I wrote Jason, I’d love to hear them, just don’t be a fucking asshole about it. There’s a right way to give feedback and there’s definitely a wrong way.)

#jason todd #jason todd fic #red hood #red hood fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #red hood x reader #red hood reader insert #dick grayson #tim drake #damian wayne #alfred pennyworth #bruce wayne #batfam #batman fandom #batman fic

922 notes · View notes

themadlostgirl · 3 years

Text

When It’s Cold (9)

*School is out! Writers block is over! I have finally updated! It’s a good day. Have some soft Felix mixed with a little smut.*

~~~

Felix was able to keep his cool up until he closed your bedroom door. Then he promptly dropped to the floor with his face buried in his hands. All he had meant to do was check to see what you wanted for lunch! How did it go from something so innocent to something so salacious in that quick a turn?

You had been behaving weird that morning and he was concerned something was wrong. When he came downstairs to find you though he realized exactly what was going on. He knew that he should have turned away and leave you to your privacy but he couldn’t look away. It was just like that night he had heard you outside your bedroom door except this time he had a visual as well.

Next thing he knew he was kneeling on the floor with his head between your legs. For as much as he thought about devouring you, actually doing it was another thing entirely. All he had were the fantasies in his head to guide him. But when you responded so beautifully to him he found his confidence surging. It made him so happy to know that he was making you feel good. Amazing even. That’s what you had said anyway. You felt amazing.

After that day you took his words to heart and did not hesitate to tell him when you were horny as all hell. Which turned out to be often. Not that he was complaining. He wanted you just as much as you wanted him.

You had not gotten to the point where you asked him for proper sex though. A few times he thought you would but you always asked for something else. It was obvious that you both wanted each other and you two had already done so much together he was wondering why you were holding back on this. Not that he was going to rush you into it. He said he would go at your pace and he meant that. Still, he had to wonder what was going on in that brain of yours that you would keep denying each other what you both clearly wanted.

It was late in the morning. You and Felix had yet to get out of bed. It was a dreary day outside and the warmth of the blankets was too cozy to leave. You were nestled under Felix’s arm, eyes closed, still in that pocket of drowsiness where you were aware of the world but had yet to greet it properly. He figured now was a good as time as any to find out why you avoided sex proper.

“Darling,” He spoke softly so not to disturb the hazy peace you were wrapped in, “Can I ask you something?”

“Hmm?” you hummed, burrowing closer into him.

“Do you not want to have sex?”

That got your attention. Your eyes squinted open to look at him. “What?”

“I only ask because we’ve been doing quite a lot of other stuff but you’ve never asked me to make love to you. Do you just not want to or are you not ready?”

“Oh um…” Your face was hot to the touch.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s not that. I just...I was kinda…” You closed your eyes again, “I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”

“Waiting for me? Why would you be waiting for me to be ready? What makes you think that I’m not ready?”

“Well you never initiate anything so…”

“Because I didn’t want to pressure you into doing something you didn’t want to do.”

“Also, we’ve been messing around for weeks now and you have never once let me blow you, even though I have offered.”

“Not this again,”

“I’m curious as to why you are so opposed to the idea. I thought that was supposed to be a thing boys liked.”

“It is but I don’t know how I feel about kissing the same mouth that had my dick in it.”

“How is that any different from you kissing me after you go down on me?”

“Ah...I see your point.” he was blushing, honest to god blushing.

Felix couldn’t bring himself to voice his other concern. He had fantasized about you taking him in your mouth before but he was worried that in practice he would get lost in his hormones and end up being too rough with you. He didn’t want to hurt you after all.

“Felix,” you snuggled closer to him, “I want to have all this with you but you can’t rely on me to start everything. Take some initiative. This isn’t just about me, this is about you too. I want to make you feel good and please you too. Okay?”

“You unravel me,” Felix grabbed you and rolled you over so he was on top of you. Your body was pushed deeper into the mattress as he hungrily sought your mouth with his. You always tasted so sweet. Even first thing in the morning.

Your legs hooked around his hips pushing him closer. His cock started to stir and he groaned as he started rutting against you, desperate for more of the sweet friction between your bodies. An animalistic side of him wanted tear the clothes from your body and pound into you with rough, reckless abandon. The sane part of him let those thoughts stay in his head as he continued to grind against your clothed sex.

You panted and moaned underneath him and it spurred him on more. That voice in his head telling him he was doing something good. He was making you feel nice. He was doing a good job.

He lavished hot kisses to your neck that had you crying out in pleasure. Your own hips met his as you frantically chased your growing pleasure. His own orgasm was starting to peak and fast if he didn’t slow down at all. But he didn’t want to. Everything felt too good. But he wanted you to finish first. Always you first.

He pulled your shirt up so he had access to your chest and sucked greedily on the bud of your soft, supple tits. “Felix, fuck!” you moaned loudly. You were getting closer. Your grinding becoming clumsier as you neared your peak.

He moved back up to your neck, gently nipping at the lobe of your ear as he ground against you harder. You held him tighter, like a snake coiled around its prey. God he loved it.

“Touch yourself,” he told you, “Touch yourself for me, baby.”

One of the hands holding onto him slipped underneath the band of your sleep pants and swiped at your clit in graceless fast circles. “Good girl,” he praised, “Such a good girl,”

“Felix!” you moaned louder, “Close! So close! I need to--need to--”

“I know, baby. Almost there,” He pulled back so he was staring at your face. He loved watching your expression when you fell apart. “Look at me,” your eyes opened so you were looking directly into his eyes, “I want you looking at me when you cum. Come on, baby. Be a good girl and cum for me.”

“Felix! Shit! Fuck! Yes! Yes! Please!” He watched in rapture as your orgasm overcame you and the intelligence behind your eyes disappeared as pleasure overtook you. God, it was so satisfying seeing that expression on you.

Felix wasn’t too far off now and his need was only getting worse. “Felix,” you touched his face as some semblance of lucidity returned to you, “Do what you need to to make yourself feel good okay? I’m not gonna break. I want you to feel good too.”

“Damn woman,” he grabbed you by the hips and pushed against your clothed sex harder. He could feel the faint wetness that had soaked through your pants with your orgasm. It was like a flipped got switched in him. Those animalistic feelings before creeping up again as he ground against you faster, harder, rougher, chasing his own pleasure with no regard for anything else. He came with a shout of your name, still rutting against you in more slow and gentle movements as he rode out the high.

It had left a mess in his pants but that was hardly a problem right now. “Is that what you wanted, little girl?” Felix asked, his voice gravelly.

“Mmhmm,” You held him closer, pressing soft kisses along his shoulder and neck. “And I bet it felt damn good too, didn’t it?”

“So good, darling,” he cracked a lopsided smile. “How does pancakes sound for breakfast?”

“Yes please!”

The next night was the night of the dinner. Felix had been planning for it for weeks and finally he was executing it. Your dessert rested already made. The one contribution you had made to the meal while Felix prepped everything else. It was a frantic couple of hours as he got everything assembled and made sure to time everything so it was done at the correct time.

The dinner sat in the kitchen ready to go as the night grew late. It was almost time. He got changed and waited in the dining room for you. His heart was beating hard in his chest. Why was he so nervous about this? It was just dinner. Sure he put a lot of effort into it but it shouldn’t be making him this anxious.

The dining room door opened and Felix held his breath. You entered wearing a pure white dress that complimented your figure immensely. You had even made an effort to style your hair past what you normally did. “You look beautiful,” the words left his mouth in an awed hush.

“This room looks beautiful,” you approached the table. You regarded the choice of table dressing with a knowing smirk. “I thought you said candlelight and rose petals was pushing things and yet I see both here.”

“I also said that I was gonna wear sweats. Things change,” he gestured to the simple white button up shirt, and black slacks he had purchased in secret.

“You even got a tie,” your hands ran over the black tie knotted messily around his collar, “And here I thought you were too good for a monkey suit.”

“It’s not a full stuffy death trap,” he shrugged, “Besides, I would be looking like a real bum next to you if I hadn’t decided to dress up last minute. How does it look?”

“You look incredibly handsome and sexy,” you pulled him down by his tie to kiss him, “You are definitely going to have to wear this for me again some time.”

“This doing something for ya, darling?” Felix smirked.

“Oh definitely,” you grinned wider.

“Well you are just gonna have to stew in those dirty thoughts of yours because from here on out tonight is about the food.” He pulled your chair out, “Now sit your ass down,”

“Oh what a gentleman,” you giggled before taking the seat. The dinner went by without a hitch as Felix served up the food. He watched as you ate everything with such glee and praise. It was a rather delicious dinner. It had better have been considering how much work he put into making it.

This was nice. It was nothing different from what you two did every day but this felt far more intimate. He had done all this to impress you. He had lit candles and scattered rose petals to make it romantic. All these little details and it just made your smile wider.

After you finished the main course it was time for dessert. Felix made to stand and grab it but you shot to your feet first. “No you don’t,” you started walking towards the kitchen, “You have done everything else tonight. I at least get to serve the dessert.”

“Sounds good to me,” he leaned back in his chair, “I deserve a little pampering too, after all.”

You rolled your eyes and rushed into the kitchen and emerged again with two plates.

“Here we are!” You set a plate down in front of him. “I know how much you love sweet and salty desserts so I made this salted maple pie. I hope you like it.”

“Sounds delicious.” Felix looked down at his plate and paused.

Resting on top of his slice of pie was a white sand dollar. He gently picked it up and inspected it. It was perfect. No chips or cracks. He looked up and saw you watching him with a wide smile. “What’s this about?” He asked.

“Well,” You squirmed in your seat, “I remembered you talking about how you collected sand dollars while on Neverland so I thought that you may like it. Maybe now that we live here you can start a new collection.”

You remembered that? He had only mentioned it once and that was months ago now. But here it was. Felix would never say he was one that was easily ruled by emotion. A sentiment that lost more meaning the more time he spent with you and tonight was no different. This was hands down one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for him. It made him feel all warm inside. Not like the hot lust he had become familiar with but a comforting warmth. Like you had draped a blanket fresh out of the dryer over him. It felt...it felt like...love.

Love.

You were still watching him. You started fiddling with your nails like you did when you got nervous. “It’s okay if you don’t like it.” You said suddenly, “I just thought that because of what you said that you would--it doesn’t matter. Please, try some of the pie. I think you’ll really like it.”

You thought he didn’t like your gift. That wasn’t a shock since he had just stared at it instead of saying anything about your perfect token. What was he expected to say though? What could he say for something this personal? Just saying that he loved it didn’t seem like enough.

“Darling,” He reached across and took your hand. You looked at him with wide eyes like a startled deer. How much he loved gazing into those eyes. “Can I make love to you?”

“Huh?” Came your articulate response. Felix tried not to chuckle at your shocked expression.

“I love this.” He held up the sand dollar, “I love that you thought to give me this. No one has ever done something like this for me and I--” Words escaped him as he tried to articulate what was going through his brain. “I want to show you how much I love it if you would let me make love to you tonight.”

“Felix…” You squeezed his hand, “I would love nothing more.”

“Come along then, little girl,” He stood up. “No time to waste.”

“You mean right now? Don’t we need to clean up dinner?”

“Worry about it tomorrow. Right now I just want you.” He pulled you to your feet.

“Okay,” Your voice was hushed, “We should at least blow out the candles first.”

“Right.” You two went about blowing out the candles dotted around the room. Felix turned to look at you and his gaze wandered down to your shapely ass bent over the table to blow out some of the candles. It wasn’t lust that kept his gaze locked there though.

“Um, darling,” Felix said. You straightened up and turned to him. “There’s a stain on your dress.”

“A stain? Where?” You looked down your torso.

“Not there.” He motioned to behind you, “There’s a dark stain on your butt.”

“My butt?” You looked puzzled for a moment before abject horror settled in. You looked down with a growing sense of dread. “No. No no no no no NO!” You scuttled off towards the bathroom. Felix finished blowing out the candles and followed after you.

“Are you alright?” He asked through the door.

You cracked the door open with a deep frown. “I’m sorry, Felix.” You mumbled, “We can’t have sex tonight.”

“Okay. But are you alright? You’re worrying me, darling.”

“I’ll be fine.” You scowled, “I got my period. So sex is kind of off the table until it’s over which will be a few days. I didn’t even realize it was blood, I thought I was wet down there cause I was turned on. This sucks!”

Felix was a tad disappointed but that hardly mattered now. So he had to wait a few more days to make sweet love to you. That was hardly anything to get upset about. He hugged you close and whispered words of reassurance to you. He wanted you to know it was alright.

“It’s bad enough I’m bleeding out of my vagina but it just had to go and ruin my pretty new dress too!” You whined as Felix led you back upstairs, “I really liked it.”

“I’m sure we can get a little blood out of your pretty dress, darling.” Felix kissed the top of your head, “For now, go clean yourself up and get comfortable. Okay?”

“Care to join me?” You asked. “Just because we can’t have sex doesn’t mean you can’t join me for a quick shower.”

“Sounds great,” He followed you into the bathroom. Both of you undressed and Felix whined in his throat when he saw you in your naked glory, water streaming down your body as you beckoned him from the shower.

He stepped into the shower with you, the hot water hitting his back. You were standing right in front of him and he was having a hard time not giving in and taking you right there in the shower. He failed to see how a little blood meant that you two couldn’t be joined but it was a stopping point for you and he accepted that. But god did he want to.

While he stood admiring you, you had set about lathering up the loofah and scrubbing yourself clean. “Ah ah,” He grabbed it out of your hands, “Since I don’t get to make love to you tonight I at least get to do this.”

“What? Bathe me?” You arched an eyebrow up at him.

“Will you just let me do this for you?” He asked.

You smiled and nodded. Unlike your methodical scrubbing to quickly and efficiently wipe the day away, Felix was far more slow. Every swipe of his hands like a soft caress as he lathered your body with sweet smelling bubbles. It wasn’t even about cleaning you up, he just wanted this chance to touch you. It was one of his favorite pastimes. He loved the way you just melted into his touch and became so pliant in his arms. You relaxed and trusted him so much, you felt safe with him, and he reveled in it.

Before any of this had happened, before he came to Storybrooke with you, Felix had always been on edge. He was used to constantly having to look over his shoulder and wait tensed for danger on Neverland. He could never find a moment to let his guard down. Not even when he was sleeping. On Neverland he kept up a hard and bitter exterior to scare anyone away from trying to mess with him. It worked too. After a few years no one dared cross him. Being the guy everyone was scared of though made it very lonely. His only real friend on the island being Pan himself. He was the only one that wasn’t scared of him.

Then you came along. You two had never had many interactions on Neverland but you didn’t scuttle away from him when he crossed your path. You were wary, he could see that, but you never tried to avoid him like the others did. You trusted him just about as much as you trusted anyone else on the island which wasn’t saying much. Now here you were, sharing a shower with him while he washed your hair for you. Your eyes closed as you leaned back into the gentle scrubbing of your scalp.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

“For what?” You asked.

“For trusting me.” He kissed your shoulder. You turned around and laid your head against his chest. “I don’t think I’ve said it before but, you mean a lot to me. I need you to understand that I really do care about you. I care about you so much.”

“I care about you too.” You hugged him tighter, “I adore you, Felix.”

The both of you stood there under the hot spray of the shower until your fingers started going pruny. Felix’s attention to you didn’t stop after the pair of you got out of the shower either. He grabbed one of the towels and dried you off. You laughed when he covered your head with the towel to dry your hair.

After he got dressed for bed he ran back downstairs and grabbed the slices of pie you had left out and brought them up to the bedroom to eat. He hoped with everything in his being that you understood just how much he meant what he said...and what he had left unsaid. He hoped you felt loved. Cause that’s what it all came down to. Felix loved you. He loved you and though he didn’t have the courage to say it yet, he hoped that tonight let you know exactly what he was feeling.

When the pie was finished and the lights were turned off, Felix pulled you close to him and kissed you. “Have sweet dreams, my darling.”

---

(Previous) (Next)

#felix imagine #felix x reader #ouat felix #ouat #neverland #peter pan ouat #roommate au #smut

107 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 3 years

Note

No one should of trusted RWBY+ with fucking anything, let alone saving the world (LIKE REN SAID THEY SHOULDN’T BE MAKING DECISIONS ON) and now look. Two cities destroy, millions dead or homeless, and Salem half-way to completing her goal that might get everyone killed. Yeah, Ozpin totally should apologize for not trusting these idiots.

At the very least the story might have pulled some plot strings to "prove" that Ozpin should have trusted them from the start. Like with Oscar succeeding with Hazel. We know that success required him to go OOC and that in a story with more consistent characterization/realistic reactions from its cast, Oscar would have definitely failed... but that doesn't erase the fact that he didn't. No matter how badly executed, the story essentially argues, "Oscar was right to trust Hazel because look, Hazel helped him" and we might have gotten something similar with the group: "Ozpin was wrong to mistrust them because look, when they learned the truth everything got better."

But, uh... things got so much worse.

The group drove Ozpin away rather than proving that they were actually different from everyone else who learned about Salem. Then they nearly lost the Relic at the farm. They tested the fragile trust between the kingdoms by stealing from Atlas and in doing so got a Leviathan to attack a city. Then they lied to Ironwood - the exact thing Ozpin supposedly shouldn't have done to them. They actively divided their allies - you know, the thing Salem wants. Not splitting the group to complete two separate tasks, Ruby - by turning on the Ace Ops and Ironwood. Ruby told everyone about Salem, which realistically should have caused massive grimm attacks across the entire world. They lost the Relic because they never bothered to put it in the vault. They also ended up losing the last question because of that. They lost the Staff because they stupidly took it out of the vault. Their Maiden was killed, again. An entire populace is displaced and currently getting picked off by grimm. They knowingly, willingly, and deliberately destroyed an entire kingdom when they didn't have to.

Oh, and then five out of ten “died.” If there was any part of Ozpin that held back out of worry for their safety, that’s been proven correct too. They weren’t strong enough, or smart enough to survive this war. Within just a few months they were (we’re meant to believe) killed.

Putting aside, for the moment, that a story needs conflict and failure on the part of its protagonists, everything that has happened since Volume 6, to my mind, proves Ozpin right. Not just in terms of "Wow, when I tell people about Salem they hurt and betray me" but also "Wow, somehow I don't think this group of teenagers with one year of training is ready to be the linchpin of this war." Because that's what they wanted by demanding every secret: to be at the very center of the fight, to be making the tough calls, to play at being the world's hero. The problem is, their idea of a hero is still someone who fixes everything with an epic punch to the face. When that fails... they crumble. Cue Ruby sitting around in the mansion half the volume. Should Ozpin have trusted his inner circle? It's debatable. Lionheart ran to Salem the second he learned of her immortality, Qrow sunk deeper into his alcoholism and gave up the fight, but Ironwood took it in a stride and kept pushing forward. Theodore we don't know yet. So it's pretty up in the air whether that would have assisted Ozpin, or just made things worse that much faster, but then that's not really the question here. Should he have told the group? Should he have deliberately made these teens generals in this war? The plot says, "Absolutely not." Because when they made themselves the generals through force - stealing the question, lying to Ironwood, defeating the Ace Ops, hijacking Amity - things have consistently gotten worse. Nothing we've seen on screen the last three volumes says, "See? Look how much better things are once Ozpin was forced to trust love and put his faith in this team."

And what slays me is that the show so desperately tries to backtrack on this with the fight between Ren and Yang:

Ren: Are you kidding?! We don’t know the first thing about being Huntsmen. We clearly weren’t ready.

Yang: Were we not ready when we saved Haven? When we took down a Leviathan? We got the Lamp to Atlas.

Ren: And then we lost it! And after that, when we had to make real decisions, we got every single one wrong.

Yang: I’m not going to pretend like we did everything perfectly, but if we’d done nothing, things would be even worse than they are now.

Ren: How could they possibly be worse? We are stuck out here while Salem has the Lamp and Oscar. We’ve got no plan, no army.

Yang: We’ve got the Maiden!

Yang is forced to omit so much information to make the team look good here and Ren is only allowed to point out one (1) thing she omits: "And then we lost it!" Yang fails to mention that they didn't save Haven, Blake's army did. So yeah, one member of the team, but it's not like they got in there and kicked epic ass. Weiss nearly died. The Relic was only saved because Raven decided she didn't want it anymore. The group barely held their own and then won due to good timing and the bad guys taking each other out/changing their minds. They were going to defeat two Maidens? Lucky them one Maiden took the other out and then decided to hand them the Relic.

Took down a leviathan? Funny how she fails to mention that they drew the leviathan there in the first place and that Cordovin's drill is what did it in. Even Ruby's eyes is a single person ability that only works on grimm, not at all useful for the human-based problems Ren is talking about. They got the Lamp to Atlas? Yeah, and then you lost it. Getting it to Atlas is literally meaningless when the villains still managed to steal it, that victory a direct result of the group's stupid decisions. It's like going, "I successfully got water out of the boat" and failing to mention that the boat still sank. Oh, and also you could have plugged the hole at any point and just... didn't. The boat sinking is absolutely on your hands. When pressed just the tinniest bit, all Yang can come up with is that they've still got the Maiden, someone who will be attacked, hacked, and murdered by the end of the volume. Everything else? "but if we’d done nothing, things would be even worse than they are now."

That's a very big claim from someone ignoring all her failures. And of course, soon after this Ren dares to use Jaune's lack of training as an example of how unprepared they are (valid), he gets mad, the duo later tells him to open up more (he literally just did), and then the story drops his anger for a semblance upgrade instead. RWBY banks on us just believing Yang, carried along by everyone - all the way through to Nora - going on about how Very Very Wrong Ren Is - because if you actually consider these themes of trust and ask whether Ozpin was wrong to hold back... there's not a lot to challenge that decision. The go-to argument would be, "The heroes made things better once they knew the truth, ergo, they should have known the truth from the start" but the group has continually made things worse. It's not even a temporary problem anymore. No matter that they'll inevitably win, Atlas is gone. They've done irreversible harm to the world and yeah, they're trying to do good, they're trying, but this isn't the story of some teenagers forced into a conflict and doing what they can with the hand they've been dealt. This is the story of some teenagers who forced their way in, so when things go wrong... that's on them, no matter their intentions. They are now responsible, just as much as Ozpin was responsible. Except the story refuses to admit that, continually positioning Ruby as an innocent child in need of reassurance, not the licensed huntress who stole control from Ozpin, lied her way into a new inner circle, attacked former allies to avoid the consequences of her own actions, and presented herself as the world's savior... only to then cry because she never had a plan to begin with. We've got a fantastic story here about how Ruby wasn't ready, none of her friends were, and their naïve belief that they were the heroes of this tale - running after the White Fang, then Cinder, then Salem herself - has done incredible harm within a delicate, multi-generation war. We might have started telling that story if the group had actually sat with Ren's accusations and admitted their mistakes. Instead, we're left with this ridiculous claim that no matter how bad things get, it's always better than the alternative of the group not being involved at all. Because they're the heroes, remember. Their goodness they provide is, supposedly, inherent. The only problem is we no longer have a plot that supports this claim.

#rwby #rwde #mymetas

78 notes · View notes

hamsterboos · 3 years

Text

Have We Met Before?

This is my last entry for Rowaelin month and it's my favorite one out of all of them. I'm really proud of this one, so I hope everyone enjoys it. Thank you to the admin group for holding Rowaelin month!

Song this is based off of is Eric Nam and Sarah Barrios' Have We Met Before

cw: kind of has character death but also not

Word Count: 1821 Read on AO3 Rowaelin Month Masterlist

Day 29 of Rowaelin Month Prompt: A work based off a song

~~~~~~

Aelin was exhausted, and as she sat down in the local café in her new neighborhood, she finally felt some semblance of peace. She had just moved to Doranelle due to an incredible job offer in one of the best publishing houses in this side of the world, and Aelin would be an idiot if she didn’t take it. Granted, she was now farther away from her cousin and her best friend, but she’d deal with anything if it meant working with some of her favorite authors. Packing up everything and moving into a new apartment was hard and tiring enough, but it was even worse with the strange, vivid dreams she’d been getting ever since moving into the apartment.

She moved a hand to rub at her collarbone, a sudden ache passing through the area as she remembered the dream - that was practically a nightmare, if she were being honest - where she had been slashed against that area with a knife before she had woken up with a strange sensation of missing someone along with the deep heartache that followed it.

It felt more like a memory, but that couldn’t be possible.

Shaking off the weird feeling in her gut, she tried to focus on the open word document on her laptop screen. This was the perfect opportunity to drink some coffee, have some great pastries, and get some editing done, and yet, even after nearly half of an hour of working, her mind kept drifting off to the dream.

Sighing, Aelin looked up and was surprised to find a man sharing the coffee table with her. The table was fairly large, big enough to seat four people comfortably, and she hadn’t even noticed when the man had chosen to sit diagonally across from her. She didn’t really mind, but the strange feeling overcame her again as she took him in.

He had silver hair, and his eyes were focused on the book in his hands, and he was fairly built if the tight shirt showing off his pecs were any indication. Under normal circumstances, Aelin would’ve been more than happy to start up a conversation with him — considering how handsome he was and the fact that he was a reader — to try to get to know him more, but as she watched him take a sip of his black coffee, she was astonished that she felt like she already knew him.

But how? Aelin’s brow furrowed as she contemplated where she could’ve possibly seen him. She’d just moved to the country — there was no way she knew anyone already that wasn’t working with her. He was a stranger, and yet the more she looked at him, the closer she felt to him.

It felt like déjà vu, and as the man looked up to glance around the room, his strikingly green eyes reminded her of the eyes she had seen in her dreams. Once they landed on her face, their eyes meeting and causing an undercurrent of electricity to pass through her, it was as though all the breath had been knocked out of her.

Aelin swore she had seen those eyes before, in her dreams no less, but that was impossible. She’d never seen this man before.

It couldn’t be, and yet…

~~~

“Come on, Aelin,” he teased, his green eyes sparkling with mischief. “It’s one dance.” They were sitting on the stairs of her apartment building, and the streets were filled with music. It was the second anniversary of Terrasen becoming an independent kingdom, and the celebrations were going on in full-force. Aelin loved the happy and carefree atmosphere that the music blasting through the streets would bring about, but unfortunately, if she didn’t finish writing down her thoughts on the uprising rebellion against the current regime for Doranelle Daily, then she would just become “another one of those useless women” that her boss, Arobynn, loved to harass.

“Yes, and then one dance turns into five,” she retorted, but without any of her usual snark. “I need to finish this article for tomorrow.” Aelin held up her notebook for emphasis, showing off her unfinished sentence.

“Oh, come on, darling,” her boyfriend continued pestering, pushing her notebook back into her lap and leaning in for a quick kiss that she let him have.

“Honey, let me finish this, and then I promise we will have your dance.”

He looked absolutely petulant for a moment, his nose scrunching up in annoyance, and she reached out to ruffle his beautifully silver hair with a laugh.

“Aelin!” he protested, reaching up to push the wayward strands back down. She simply grinned at him and pecked him quickly before going back to her notebook. She heard him sigh, and she knew then that she had won him over. Her boyfriend got comfortable by wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and settling his chin on her shoulder. Aelin pressed back up into his arms, content and happy with her life.

Until, of course, everything went up in flames.

~~~

Rowan didn’t know what possessed him to sit down at a table where there was already someone sitting there, but he felt compelled to be by the woman with the blonde hair that seemed exactly like the shade of blonde that was plaguing his dreams.

He sat down on the other side of her, diagonal from her so he wouldn’t be directly in her line of sight. She seemed to be typing away, hard at work, and he decided that he would instead just focus on his book. He came out today to get some fresh air, clear his mind after the strange dreams he’d started having every night for almost a week, and that’s exactly what he intended to do.

Instead, he spent the next half hour reading the same two pages, his eyes mindlessly passing over the words, and yet he didn’t actually comprehend any of them.

His eyes kept drifting up, roaming around the room as he looked at the café without really looking, before they just ended back on the woman sitting so close, yet so far.

As he watched her type away on her laptop, Rowan felt as though this quiet, yet stange, comfort he felt around her was familiar, like he had lived through this exact moment before. He watched as she blindly picked up what looked like a sweet latte, if the amount of whipped cream on top was any indication, and then she took a bite of an apple turnover.

Yet, there was no way he had. The woman was an utter stranger — albeit, a beautiful one — and that was that. Rowan had simply lost his mind. There was no other explanation.

He directed his attention back to his book in a last ditch attempt to make some progress before letting out a frustrated sigh as he gave up again. Rowan looked back up at the bustling cafe and then at the woman, and he was surprised to find that she was looking right at him.

His eyes met her blue ones, and it could not be a coincidence that the blue eyes that he seemed to love in his dreams were the same ones that this woman had, down to the golden ring surrounding them.

~~~

They were sitting in their favorite local café, a quiet serenity surrounding them. Rowan didn’t need to be constantly talking to his girlfriend to just be happy and content with her. It was her presence that just put his mind at rest.

She was drinking an intensely sweetened milk tea, and he had just opted for a simple black tea while the two shared an apple turnover. It was one of the few pastries the two had ever agreed on, and they always opted to order one whenever they went out. Money was tight between the two of them, but they made it work to at least always be able to splurge once in a while.

Rowan looked up from his own book and smiled at the sight of his girlfriend furiously writing in her notebook, working on yet another article for Doranelle Daily. Her hair seemed to be getting in her eyes, and instead of tying it up, she kept blowing it out of her face to the point where Rowan couldn’t hold in his chuckle.

“What’s so funny?” she asked.

“You could just tie up your hair,” he responded, laughter still clear in his voice. She looked up at him, her gorgeous blue eyes narrowed towards him.

“Oh, so now my suffering is funny to you?”

“Darling,” he spoke, leaning in closer to her from across the table, “you’re just lazy.”

“Rude,” she scoffed, but she took the hair tie off her wrist to tie up her hair, anyway.

“See? It wasn’t so hard to listen to me.”

“You could try to be a little less annoying.”

“You wouldn’t love me the same.”

“I would love to have some peace and quiet right about now.”

“We could just go home,” he innocently offered.

“So you can distract me from work again? No, thank you.”

Rowan’s jaw fell open slightly out of indignation before he scowled, and that caused a giggle to burst out of her. Rowan let go of his scowl and smiled as well.

This was what he loved, what he cherished.

Until, of course, he lost it all.

~~~

The two estranged lovers watched one another, surprise written clearly over their faces. The lack of recognition between the two was overshadowed by the memories in their dreams. The love bursting in their chest, mingled with the pain of their unwanted separation burned through them, so maybe they would say that the dreams were more like nightmares.

~~~

It was a “wrong time, wrong place” type situation. Nothing more.

The couple were walking down an alley, hand in hand, happily chatting, only to be attacked by rebels, trying to rob them in the dimming sunlight.

The female tried screaming for help when the male pushed her back, trying to protect her as he fought back against the two rebels.

It wasn’t enough.

A third rebel appeared behind the female, slashing a knife across her collarbone, causing a shriek of pain to escape her. Her screams mingled with the male’s as he tried to fight towards her, but a rebel slashed him across his bicep.

The couple was abandoned in the alley only when they had been removed of any jewelry and money, instead left with slashes and stab wounds that had them bleeding out on the ground. They stumbled into each other’s arms, clinging to their love while they would not be able to cling to life for much longer.

Their last words were declarations of love.

~~~

With those last words ringing through their minds, they each felt a pull towards one another, yet she was the one who was able to utter one sentence.

“Have we met before?”

#rowaelinmonth #day 29 #reincarnation #kinda angsty?#rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #aelin galythinius

30 notes · View notes

just-call-me-the-intrusive-thot · 4 years

Text

Soulmate September - Day 5

Day 5 - Any intense emotions your soulmate feels you will also experience.

Pairing(s): Romantic Logicality, Background Romantic Prinxiety

TWs: Suicide Mention near the end, swearing, talk of death, anger issues perhaps? let me know if I missed anything!

–

Ever since the day he burst into a hysterical giggle fit out of the blue in the middle of his very first recess, Logan Faraday could tell his soulmate would be a handful.

Of course, this initial outburst had already cost Logan any chances of socialising; soulmate or not, it’s hard to convince other children that you’re not crazy when you very suddenly laughed in their face mid sand castle construction. Needless to say, the only upside to that first recess was that he could work on said sand castle by himself. Yes, that was an upside. At least, Logan convinced himself it was.

Logan preferred to keep his emotions rather modest, not initially to save his soulmate from a similar ostracisation as he had suffered, but simply because he preferred it that way. Were there moments that he felt intense emotions regardless? Certainly. For his ninth birthday, his fathers had caved and bought him a telescope, a gift he used to this day despite it’s child-sized inefficiency. At the time it was a fleeting thought, but as he watched the stars while his fathers both pointed out constellations - and occasionally bantered back and forth over any inaccuracies - Logan wondered if his soulmate felt his love and passion for the stars. If they could feel how much the gift had meant to him. The thought was one Logan allowed to slip away at the time, only to receive a feeling of pure joy immediately after. As much as his soulmate’s overly excitable emotions could cause him all kinds of trouble, Logan couldn’t help but hope deep down that his soulmate was so happy because he was happy.

Logan went to sleep that night feeling like a bright newborn star…

Years of spontaneous happiness and excitement was something Logan was used to; sudden, unstoppable sadness was not.

“Logan?”, his science teacher had inquired concernedly, “Is everything alright?”

Logan hadn’t realised he was crying profusely until he looked down at his notebook to be greeted by a wet splatter causing his notes to spread out in a blue flower of sorrow. He wiped at his eyes initially, ignoring the awful sad feeling in his chest, spouting a near monotone, “I’m fine.”, though the tears didn’t stop. Out of the corner of his quickly blurring sight, Logan could see his classmates talking. Whispering among themselves. About the situation. About him.

His teacher hadn’t needed to ask again before Logan packed his bag, simply offering, “Actually I feel rather unwell. I’ll go to the nurses office. Excuse me.”, before he all but ran out of his classroom.

Why? Why couldn’t his soulmate stop crying!?

Logan made a beeline for the nearest bathroom, locking himself in a stall to let his soulmate’s emotions pour out their sorrows in peace. Unwavering sadness, a cocktail of fear and helplessness stirred in there too for good measure. If Logan had felt more empathetic at the time, he’d have tried to understand his soulmate’s obvious distress. But he was only a teenager. A stupid, angry, hormone-addled teenager with more frustration than sense who lashed out instead. Why didn’t his soulmate understand what they were putting him through?! Why couldn’t they just stop making him embarrass himself?! Didn’t they understand how he felt?!

“WHY CAN’T YOU STOP MAKING ME FEEL LIKE THIS?!”, Logan yelled as he kicked at the stall walls and doors in frustration as the tears just kept coming. In fact, they seemed to worsen the angrier Logan got until he was a sobbing mess on the dirty bathroom floor. With no signs of the tears stopping, Logan wrenched his notebook out of his bag, flipping to the last page and scrawling out a quick note before he would leave to go be sent home by the nurse,

“Ask Soulmate About:

April 13th 20XX: debilitating sadness, unstoppable crying, demand explanation”

Logan never told his parents exactly why he was home early, brushing off his fathers’ concern with a simple, “I felt unwell and couldn’t focus”, as he ascended the stairs to his room to spend the rest of the night stargazing, hoping to drive away his earlier outburst. Instead, Logan felt overwhelming guilt. His soulmate was bawling their heart out and he’d answered them with anger. Irrational, illogical, rage that they didn’t deserve. Now Logan felt nothing from his soulmate as he lay in his bed and wished - oh how he wished - he could’ve relived the day just so he could properly comfort his soulmate instead of lashing out at them like a snarling animal. But he couldn’t. And he’d have to live with that forever.

Logan went to sleep that night feeling like a monster…

Over the next three years, Logan had slowly become convinced that his soulmate was dead. He had heard rumours; people who found out their soulmate had died some time after they had stopped feeling anything from them. The thought was terrifying to Logan. Outwardly, he tried not to let the thought consume him; people die every day, they come and go, and no one has control over the how or when. There were times when Logan was sure he felt something. Just the tiniest twinge of an emotion, but the feeling would be gone so fast, he was sure he was just imagining things. By the time he turned 18, Logan had accepted that his soulmate must have died. And the last thing they’d potentially felt from Logan was his seething anger and resentment.

What a goddamn fool he had been.

At nineteen, Logan had been accepted into his top choice college and quickly began establishing a routine; he’d wake up at 6 am, ignore his roommate, Roman, loudly announcing his love for his soulmate to the mirror, walk across campus to his classes, have lunch with classmates, then return to his dormitory where he would indulge in either more studying or the occasional movie or game night with Roman. It kept his mind focused and allowed very little time for him to dwell on unpleasant thoughts.

Expectedly, his routine was shattered to pieces. Knowing Roman’s need to be spontaneous, he hadn’t expected it to take three months, but oh well.

“Let me get this straight-”

“Good luck with that!”, Roman had finger gunned back at Logan, who rubbed his temples like they could smooth out the stress that was building up by the second, “Let me be sure I understand you.”, he rephrased through gritted teeth, “You decided that, without my knowledge and completely throwing out any semblance of social etiquette, that you would not only invite your soulmate-”

“Boyfriend.”, Roman corrected, preferring that label for some reason. Logan rolled his eyes annoyedly.

“Your boyfriend, to come over and join in our game and or movie night and are just now telling me that I will simply have to, as you put it, ‘deal with it’?”

Logan watched Roman nervously rub the side of his neck, “Well, kind of.”

“Kind of? In what way has this ridiculous arrangement of yours changed to further inconvenience me?”, Logan snapped a little too viciously before he could catch himself. Roman was ready to answer him when a knock arrived at the door. Perhaps it was spite, perhaps it was to let the unwelcome guest know just how much he was intruding on Logan’s routine - though to be honest, Virgil was actually rather pleasant - either way, the enraged man stormed over to the door and hauled it open, “Greetings, make yourself-”

The words died in his throat.

The man standing at the door definitely wasn’t Virgil. Strawberry blonde hair, slightly sunkissed skin, round silver framed glasses, a baby blue polo and tan shorts… definitely not Virgil. Logan stared for probably a little too long before the young man spoke up,

“Um, are you okay? Logan, right? Virgil and Roman have told me about you!”, he held out a hand to shake Logan’s, his smile blinding, “I’m Patton!”

Logan ignored the tiny phantom emotion that poked at his soul and opted to step aside and let Patton in, “It’s nice to meet you, Patton. I apologise for my…. Aggressive demeanor.”, he admitted, ignoring Roman’s guilty glance to ask, “I was informed Virgil would be joining us?”

“Oh! He’ll be a little late,”, Patton sheepishly explained, “He’s uh, he’s still picking out a shirt to wear.”

Roman seemed all too eager as he valiantly proclaimed, “Then I shall go forth to my dark and stormy knight, and help him pick one out! Logan, be a good host for our dear friend Patton!”

Before either of the two could protest, Roman took off down the hallway. Logan sighed, “Please, make yourself at home, Patton. It may be up to an hour before they’re done.”

“An hour to pick a shirt?”, Patton looked so confused. Logan clapped a hand to his mouth. Oh this poor sweet innocent bean. He wasn’t sure what to do, but he needn’t have bothered as it appeared it had finally sunken in. “OH.” Patton flushed bright red, sitting on the sofa, mortified. Logan was stifling a chuckle so hard, he almost missed the foreign feeling of embarrassment growing within him. On a reflex, Logan tried to will the feeling away. His soulmate was dead, it must be his own embarrassment, therefore. It persisted for a moment until Logan was wrenched from his inner struggle by Patton, “Are you alright, Logan?”.

Ah, that’s right. He had company. Logan nodded and sat down next to Patton on the sofa. He would have sat on his own but he felt awkward doing so when it was just he and Patton alone. He didn’t want Pat to feel like he was avoiding him.

“I’m fine, Patton. Would you like me to play something on netflix?”, he offered, picking up the remote.

Patton grinned mischievously, clearly about to make an awful joke. “Logan, are you asking me to netflix an-” “NO-!”, Logan’s face burned bright red, but he quickly rushed to reassure Patton as the shorter man recoiled, “No, I mean, I’m not attempting to ‘netflix and chill’ with you. I’m-”

Patton stopped him, his expression unreadable for a second, “It’s alright! I understand, it was just a joke, I promise!”. Logan nodded, trying to power through the intense attraction he had begun to feel. It felt so odd being able to feel an emotion so strongly without his soulmate. Or perhaps…. Was he wrong? Had he been wrong the whole time? No. No, how could someone suppress intense emotions for almost three years now? He needed to stop betting against his logic just because an attractive man was staring at him.

…. Why was Patton staring at him?

“..... Do I have something on my face, Patton?”, Logan questioned.

Patton bit his lip worriedly at first; apparently mulling over what he was going to say first, “This uh, might be a little bit personal to ask so soon, but...”, he paused, fiddling with his shirt, “Have you found your soulmate yet?”

Ah. Logan hadn’t anticipated that question, but he wasn’t surprised by it either. He eyed Patton for a moment, unsure as to whether he wanted to be fully honest with him. For some reason, Logan felt he could confide in Patton.

“No. I haven’t. If I’m being entirely honest, I have reason to believe they may have...”, a deep breath, “...passed.”

The sorrow in Patton’s gaze could’ve put Logan in the ground with his soulmate. Such beautiful eyes shouldn’t be tainted by mourning. Before Logan could apologise, Patton took a sharp breath, meeting his gaze somewhat guiltily, “I… How can you be sure? Do you think...possibly... your soulmate might be alive?”. The insistence in Patton’s tone had Logan hoping he was right. Four years of convincing himself his soulmate was gone for good wouldn’t leave immediately, but for Patton, he wanted to indulge the idea.

“If they are, I owe them a rather lengthy apology.”

The young man in front of him tilted his head in confusion which prompted Logan to continue, he’d told him so much already, why not open up some more? “My soulmate was- is,”, he corrected, earning a petit smile of encouragement from Patton, “rather a happy soul. They’d burst into figurative fits of laughter and joy almost daily. As a result, I never made many friends. The other children found it bizarre, they treated me like an anomaly.”

He took a deep breath in. It took a second for Logan to take note of Patton’s hand resting over his; to encourage him, surely, nothing more… “I never paid my outcast status much heed, I..”

Patton leant slowly closer and Logan felt it again; that psychosomatic feeling of intense adoration. Or perhaps… “... I never realised how lonely I felt.”, Logan continued quietly, acutely aware of the emotions spreading within his chest as Patton’s fingers intertwined with his own, “Genuinely, I never thought about it, I was so content to just enjoy my happiest times for what they were. The first time I felt true happiness, I lay in my bed and I hoped. I hoped my soulmate could feel how happy I was, and I felt them.”. Logan was hit with a wave of overwhelming fondness mixing with his nerves. Patton looked so, so happy, but..

“... Then, I ruined everything.”, Logan continued somberly, attempting to slip his hand from Patton’s hold, but instead Patton held firm, anxious and eager to know what happened it seemed. “A few years after, I was sitting in science class when my soulmate felt this…. This unimaginable sadness. I couldn’t contain my tears, and no matter where I looked, my classmates were staring at me. Like I was even more of an oddity than they already thought me to be.”. While the feeling of deep affection flowered within his chest, Logan felt that same sadness sewing its seeds among the roots. Of all the times to potentially feel his soulmate’s emotions once more, that was the one thing Logan had never, ever, wanted to feel again.

“I lashed out, alone in the school’s bathroom.“, his hand slid free of Patton’s before the shorter man could react, threading itself in Logan’s dark hair as his anxiety grew, “I allowed my anger to warp my emotions and I lost control. My soulmate was-!”, his breathing hitched, “They were hurting! They were in pain, Patton! But I spent so long in that stall just, yelling such awful things-!”

As if he couldn’t further relive that same trauma, Logan hadn’t realised he was crying until Patton gently caressed the tears from his cheeks. He softly murmured, “It’s okay, keep going. Please. I think… I may need to hear this...”

Logan found that the words wouldn’t come. Perhaps he’d known since he laid eyes on Patton but was just so deep in denial that he convinced himself he couldn’t be so lucky. Perhaps he’d put it together when Patton’s reactions aligned with his twinges of emotion, but didn’t want to believe that he was facing the soulmate he’d so callously lashed out at in his time of need, and treated as though he had passed on to make himself feel better. Either way, Logan could no longer run from the facts; just looking into Patton’s beautiful eyes, those honey gold galaxies that complimented the deep cerulean of Logan’s own, he knew that Pat had already worked it out. With their close proximity, Logan rested his head on Patton’s shoulder, murmuring barely above a whisper,

“...Why?”, Logan’s dulcet tone came in softly, “Why were you crying that day? April 13th, almost four years ago...”

Patton’s voice was as gentle on his ears as his fingers threading through his hair, even as it sounded like his heart was breaking, “My cousin tried to kill themself.” Logan felt his heart shatter for good this time. He could barely stop his arms wrapping firmly around Patton as he reassured him. Reassured him. Like Logan had any right to be the one who needed comfort. “It’s alright, Logan, they’re okay! They’re fine now, but it was… I was really scared back then. I was the only one home at the time.”. Patton took a breath, “Like I said, they’re alright now. They’re married and everything-”

“I’m so sorry.”, Logan couldn’t hear it. No, he wouldn’t hear it. Patton was banned from reassuring him when Logan should be begging for Patton’s forgiveness instead. “You …. You needed me. And I repaid your cry for help with such anger. You were hurting, Patton!”, his hands gently held Patton’s soft cheeks in their palms, “You were hurting-! And I-!”

“You couldn’t have known, Logan-”

“I knew enough! I knew you were in pain, for goodness sakes, Patton, I could feel it! I couldn’t stop crying for almost a full hour! I felt the same fear and sorrow you felt, but I-!”

Patton gently pressed his delicate fingertips to Logan’s lips.

“And I repaid your attempt to apologise with spite.”

Met with a confused expression, Patton continued, “I… Your anger did hurt me. I won’t lie to you, I could never lie to you. But I was so hurt, by the time I could feel your guilt, I… I’d resigned myself to stop feeling intense emotions ever again.”. The sad smile Patton presented made Logan wish magic existed, just so he could banish anything that made Patton sad to the dark recesses of space forever.

“At first, it really was just... sheer spite. You weren’t the only hormonal teenage disaster, Logan.”

The curt laugh that dragged itself out of Logan was so jarring, he himself didn’t know where it had come from, but Patton was just so happy that he felt comfortable enough to do so, continuing on, “I was only going to stop for a week at most really, but I got too inside my own head. Maybe I am a burden. Maybe I am just causing him trouble with all my emotions. Maybe I should stop causing trouble and being such a nuisance. But if I’d-... If I’d known you thought that I was dead-! That you thought all this time you were alone I-”

Logan didn’t let him finish. Gently silencing Patton with a soft tap of fingertips to lips so soft they felt how Logan imagined an angel’s would feel, Logan softly leant forward to press his own lips to Patton’s. While Logan knew nothing he did could truly make up for the pain he caused Patton, the very least he could do was show that he very much needed no apologies from his soulmate.

Their kiss was shorter than either would have liked - due to the interruption of their roommates walking in to find them lost in the moment - but Logan couldn’t say it wasn’t as perfect as he’d hoped it could be.

Hours later, as another game night drew to a close with both Virgil and Patton spending the night with their respective soulmates, Logan held Patton closer as the shorter man curled into Logan’s body heat.

As he brushed a loving hand through beautiful strawberry blonde curls and admired the sleeping face of the young man in his arms, Logan went to sleep that night feeling happier than he had in years..

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

I’m ready for people to stab me for this one lmao.. @tsshipmonth2020

Taglist [ask to be included]: @somehow-i-got-an-account @cateye-glasses

#logicality #prinxiety #logan sanders #patton sanders #soulmate september #roman sanders #virgil sanders #my fics #fanfics #tsshipmonth2020 #I really just went ham on this huh #logan #patton #roman #virgil

131 notes · View notes

happyandticklish · 4 years

Text

A Study in Weakness

Shinra is pointing out different weaknesses in human beings when he discovers a particularly interesting one in his friend.

Shinra Kishitani often wondered how he had ended up with the friends he had. A man in possession of super human strength that scientifically speaking shouldn’t be possible, and an info broker who delighted in the fulfillment of his every sadistic urge. Certainly he had received a rather strange lot in life. Although then again, Shinra wasn’t the most normal person himself.

That day, however, Shinra found himself discussing one of the only interests he and the info broker had in common: human beings.

“Isn’t it fascinating that no matter how strong or invincible a person may be, they still fall prey to the most insignificant of things?” Shinra was saying. Besides him, Izaya watched him with a look of ambiguous interest. “Physical attacks like concussions and colds can take us down instantly, not to mention mental weaknesses like fear and the blinding passion of love.”

“You consider love to be a weakness?” Izaya inquired curiously, raising an eyebrow. “That’s ironic coming from you.”

Shinra chuckled. “Yeah, but I don’t consider my love for Celty a weakness. Our bond only makes us stronger together!” He sighed happily, his whole face lighting up at the mention of his beloved Dullahan. His devotion to her was near unsettling, but so were a lot of things about Shinra.

They turned a corner, the sun shining hot on their faces so that they had to squint to see where they were going. “It is intriguing, I will admit,” Izaya agreed, hoping to put a stop to another rant about Celty before it could begin. “Humans are such interesting creatures. So very delicate, no matter how many pretenses they put up. It’s a wonder they manage to survive at all.”

“You’re a human too, you know,” Shinra pointed out wryly, plopping down on a park bench and hissing as the warm metal burned his thighs. “You don’t have to talk about us like we’re an alien species.”

“I suppose,” Izaya murmured with contempt. He turned to Shinra suddenly, resting his chin on his knee. “What about you? What’s your weakness, my dear friend?”

“Oh you know, the usual things. I have seasonal allergies, a hopeless devotion to a girl who doesn’t look twice at me, I’m unbearably ticklish, I have a crick in my neck that’s never gone away—”

“Hold up,” Izaya said, and Shinra paused his list. “You’re ticklish?”

“Yeah,” Shinra confirmed, seeming completely unembarrassed by the fact. “I think everyone is.”

That was news to Izaya. It was strange how you could know someone for so long and not know such simple things about them. He wondered what other secrets Shinra was keeping from him. Lost in his thoughts, he almost missed it when Shinra mentioned him.

“I bet even you’re ticklish, Izaya.”

Izaya scoffed. “Me? Ticklish? Please.”

Shinra narrowed his eyes. Izaya shifted uncomfortably on the bench. The conversation was going in a decidedly unpleasant direction. “I think you’re lying.”

“Oh?” Izaya replied tersely. “And why is that?”

“Everyone’s ticklish, at least a little bit,” Shinra explained. Izaya wished he would stop using the word so casually. It made his skin crawl.

“Well, I’m not. So I guess you’re wrong—”

“Prove it.”

“What?” Izaya snapped.

“Prove that you’re not ticklish. I’ll tickle you for one minute and if you can resist me I’ll believe you.”

Izaya found himself trapped in the scientist’s gaze and he swallowed, squeezing his knee tighter against himself. “Why should I?”

Shinra shrugged, turning away. “It’s up to you. I’ll just know you’re lying if you refuse.”

Though Shinra had seemingly just provided him with the perfect out, Izaya knew a trap when he saw one. If he refused right now then Shinra would know he was lying, and there was no chance that he wouldn’t use that information against him later. But if Izaya could hold out, even for just one minute, he wouldn’t have to worry about any of that.

Izaya forced a smirk, sprawling back so his body sat open and defenseless to the touch. “Alright then. Go ahead. But it’s not going to work, I’m telling you.”

If Shinra was deterred by his comments he didn’t show it. Izaya tried to ignore the pounding of his heart inside his chest, focusing instead on trying to somehow manually shut off his nervous system. Shinra moved so that he was kneeling in front of him, hands resting lightly against his sides. For a moment no one moved.

Then Shinra curled his fingers.

An unmistakable shudder of feeling coursed through his body. It had been a while since anyone had tried to tickle him and he was unprepared for the onslaught of ticklishness he experienced then. He was far more sensitive than he remembered. Izaya had never felt more present than he did in that moment, and he swallowed back an involuntary noise. Shinra appeared unaware of the effect he was having on Izaya, and continued to wiggle his fingers in that same, deadly spot on his sides.

He couldn’t do it. There was no way that Izaya could just sit there and let himself be tickled. He was practically holding his breath as he mustered every ounce of self-control he had to stop himself from squirming away or making any kind of noise at all. It was annoying, actually, how ticklish he seemed to be. Izaya couldn’t remember the last time he had been tickled, though he was sure there had been moments when he was a child when the subject had organically cropped up. Still, it was really unfair that it was only now that he was discovering the sheer depth of his sensitivity.

Despite all of that, though/, he found himself almost enjoying himself. Tickling was something that he had always found fascinating about humans, how such a seemingly innocent thing could send the greatest of fighters into hysterics in an instant. Izaya enjoyed taking risks in life, and he saw this almost as a show of endurance to see how long he would be able to hold out, as he had never been able to test himself before in this area. He made up his mind that no matter what Shinra did he would not crack.

This resolve lasted about five seconds before Shinra’s path descended to his hips. Shinra stared at the hands now clamped about his wrists and the reluctant grin evident on Izaya’s face. “I thought you weren’t ticklish.”

“I’m not,” Izaya corrected immediately. Even though by this point that was obviously not the case, he still wasn’t willing to admit it.

Shinra raised his eyebrows, grinning infuriatingly. “Uh-huh. I may not be as attuned to human nature as you, but I know when someone’s lying.”

Izaya released his wrists, choosing instead to cross his arms across his chest. It was a gesture he was hoping Shinra would see as casual, while in reality he just wanted to have his hands somewhere where he could control their movements. “I wasn’t lying.”

“Then you won’t mind me trying again, will you?” Shinra’s tone was light and teasing and struck a chord somewhere deep inside him; Izaya didn’t want to lose.

Izaya hesitated for a moment. “Not at all.” Maybe he could control himself better now that he was used to the feeling.

Unfortunately for him, the anticipation only made it worse. As Shinra reached for his sides, Izaya watched them with a hawk’s eyes, his body quivering despite himself. At the last second, however, Shinra’s hands darted down to squeeze his thighs instead.

Unprepared, Izaya jumped, his lips pressing down into a firm line as he barely repressed a squeak. Shinra was unperturbed. He traced lightly over the trembling thighs, bare due to the heat from summer. Izaya drew in a sharp breath, choking back whimpering giggles. The fingers climbed his thighs, continuing their ascent beneath the hem of his t-shirt.

When Shinra’s fingers first touched bare skin Izaya had two realizations. One, that he was a lot more ticklish than he had ever thought possible, and two, that this had evolved very quickly past friend territory. There was a nervous energy in the air that had absolutely nothing to do with tickling, though that certainly didn’t help. At another time, when Izaya was thinking more clearly, he might have had the common sense to stop Shinra, to put an end to whatever charade they were putting on. Instead, he found himself strangely content to allow the other boy to continue. Izaya chose not to dwell on that information, saving it for another day.

In the meantime, he struggled to contain the effect Shinra was having on him, biting his lip as his skin jumped under the feather-light touches. Shinra wasn’t shy about switching between his torso and his legs either, and Izaya fisted his hands by his sides, never able to familiarize himself to the sensation. By this time a minute had passed and Izaya had technically won their little game. Both of them had long since given up on counting, however, quickly realizing that this was about something else at this point.

“Is something the matter?” Shinra asked sweetly, scratching persistently at a certain spot on his inner thigh.

“Hmm, hah, n-nope, nohot at a-all,” Izaya replied just as sweetly, trying to glare at his attacker. But the effect was ruined by the smile plastered wide over his usually sarcastic expression.

His pretense could only last so long, however. It wasn’t anything big that broke him—a single finger sweeping over his side—but it was the straw that broke the camel’s back. First a giggle, then a snort, and soon he was full on cackling as he squirmed under the ticklish assault. He didn’t stop him, weirdly, even though his laughter technically meant the end of their game. It was a couple minutes before Shinra himself finally relented, pulling his hands away and letting his friend breathe.

“I knew you were ticklish!” Shinra declared as Izaya tried to rub away the phantom tickles that still tingled all throughout his body.

“You’re dead Kishitani,” he growled, trying to recover any semblance of dignity. His cheeks were pink from laughter and embarrassment. “Just you wait—”

“Oh yeah?” Shinra challenged, raising his chin confidentially. “And just what are you going to do about it?”

Izaya smirked then, a predator’s glint in his eyes. “Oh, you’ll see.” And with that he pounced on his scrawny friend, long fingers digging into bony ribs with an untamed ferocity.

Unlike Izaya, unrestrained laughter immediately fell from Shinra’s lips as he jerked backwards. Shinra’s laughter was loud and buoyant, so exactly like his personality. He squirmed on the bench and pawed at Izaya’s hands, but not once did he protest the torture or try genuinely to escape. Izaya frowned, the lack of embarrassment on Shinra’s face irritating him. He momentarily stopped tickling him to stare critically at his friend. “Why aren’t you asking me to stop?”

Shinra drew in a deep breath, flushed and panting, but very obviously happy. He shrugged in response. “I don’t know. I guess I kind of liked it—it was fun.”

Izaya furrowed his eyebrows. “Fun?”

“Yeah!”

Izaya felt a blush blooming to his features, though this time it was for an entirely different reason. To cover up his own embarrassment, he smirked, looming over the smaller boy. “Alright then. Just remember you asked for this then!”

He jumped on him again and Shinra fell back into hysterical laughter, never once asking him to stop, and for a brief moment Izaya found himself smiling genuinely. This time, it wasn’t from the tickling.

#durarara!!#tickling #shinra kishitani #izaya orihara #shinra x izaya #tickle fic #tickle #izashin #fanfiction #shinyaya

49 notes · View notes

fatesdeepdive · 3 years

Text

Entry 6: Dicklips has a Point

Chapter 5: Mother

After a few days in Hoshido, Corrin is finally getting used to the massive emotional baggage that is her backstory. Mikoto invites Corrin to sit on the Hoshidan throne, which is infused with the magic of the First Dragons and destroys magic that alters the body or mind. Mikoto hopes that it will allow Corrin to regain her memories. Before Corrin can sit on the throne and become king of the Westeros or whatever, Mikoto’s strategist Yukimura enters. He looks like a nerd, but I suppose that’s better than being a steampunk MCR cover band dropout like Iago.

The Hoshidan siblings enter and Mikoto tells Corrin that they’re having a ceremony to quash spy rumors and formally reintroduce Corrin into the family. We’re properly introduced to Corrin’s other brother, Takumi. He’s assigned to show Corrin around town and is grumpy about it, because his defining character trait is being a dick. As Takumi and the princesses leave, Ryoma muses that he feels uneasy and predicts that something bad will happen soon.

The gang tours a Hoshidan marketplace. It’s so vibrant, and colorful, and full of life. I haven’t been talking much about this game’s music because I’m not a music guy, but I love the upbeat theme they use for this scene. It feels like something out of Okami and matches Hoshido’s idealized feudal Japan aesthetic perfectly.

Corrin points out that Shirasagi is way better than the Nohrian fort she was held prisoner in for years. Takumi rants that he doesn’t trust Corrin, saying Just don’t get too comfortable…SISTER. I know he’s supposed to come across as a dick, but he has a point. Corrin’s an enemy soldier who invaded Hoshido and killed a dozen people less than a week ago. It doesn’t matter that they share DNA, Corrin should be treated with suspicion.

Takumi also acts suspicious to Azura and says she can’t call him by his first name, which is dumb. What’s she supposed to do, call him Dicklips? Corrin points out that Dicklips is being an idiot and Dicklips tells her to shut up. And really, he is being an idiot. Either hate Corrin for growing up in Nohr, or hate Azura for having Nohrian DNA. Either nature matters, or nurture matters. You can’t have it both ways.

Then again, Azura and Corrin will totally join Nohr and try to destroy Hoshido if we chose the conquest path, so maybe Dicklips has a point.

Corrin tells Sakura that she’s friends with a girl around Sakura’s age, presumably Elise. If the coin flip had gone the other way and I was playing as boy Corrin, Sakura would have asked if Elise is Corrin’s girlfriend. And that’s ridiculous. Can you imagine, Corrin dating their teenage sister? That’s messed up. Good thing that isn’t a thing that happens in this game.

We go to the plaza for the festival. Side note, all shots of Corrin and Mikoto in the festival are positioned so that Corrin’s face is covered by something, like a man wearing an oversized hat, for instance. This is because Corrin is customizable and that means the game can’t show their face. They can show the clearly male body model, but not their face. Awakening had Robin wear a hood to get around this problem, but who needs fashion choices when you can just censor the main character’s face like it’s Austin Powers’s mojo.

While Corrin’s standing next to Mikoto, a weird ghost man wearing a hood walks to the front of the crowd and holds out his arm. Red smoke starts coming off Ganglari and an eye opens up on its hilt, because it is very clearly a cursed sword. Ganglari flies over to the man and he stabs it into the ground, creating a massive purple explosion ball. The sword explodes and Mikoto jumps in front of Corrin to shield her from the shrapnel. As she dies, Mikoto asks Corrin if she’s okay.

Fire Emblem has a lot of dead parent scenes, and I honestly think this is the best. Marcella Lentz-Pope’s scream when Mikoto dies is phenomenal. Mikoto begging Corrin to be alright and dying with a smile on her face is beautiful.

Ryoma cuts down the hooded man but his cloak just falls to the ground, leaving no body. Corrin screams, her hair glowing and her eyes white, physically holding back the pain as waves of energy burst from her body. In a moment, Corrin is gone. In her place is a dragon.

I really like Corrin’s dragon form. It looks so inhuman, more like a machine than a traditional dragon. It really gets across that Corrin has completely lost any semblance of humanity she had as she falls into this pit of despair.

The level proper starts up as an army of dark mages and mercenaries storm into the ruined plaza. Their leader is the ghostly man from before. Interestingly, he’s a swordmaster, a Hoshidan exclusive class that he shares with Ryoma. This level adds Sakura and Azura to our team and gives Corrin an absolutely monstrous boost to her stats, fitting for her rage dragon form.

Sakura

Corrin’s shy, gentle Hoshidan younger sister. She’s a Shrine Maiden (Cleric) and wields healing staves. Her personal skill lowers the damage taken by nearby allies. Her design is fine; I don’t really have any thoughts on it. She seems to be going for this “cute shy healer” personality, which isn’t bad, but Fire Emblem has done it a dozen times before.

Azura

Azura is our Dancer...I mean, Songstress. She sucks at fighting, but allows other units to attack twice, which is really helpful in battle. Her personal skill heals nearby allies at the start of their turns. Her design, despite its bright colors, does a good job conveying how calm and mysterious she is. Azura is an enigma. She clearly knows more than she lets on, but currently seems content to just follow Corrin around.

All of the mercenaries in this chapter wield special, dragon killing swords, which would be a problem, if Corrin didn’t have as much defense as the rest of the party put together. This chapter boils down to letting dragon Corrin smash everyone while Sakura, Azura, and Kaze provide support. Ryoma attempts to take on the ghost man, but is defeated. Then Corrin fucking stomps his translucent ass and saves the day.

Corrin continues rampaging and Azura begins singing LITAA. Her necklace, the one from the title screen, starts glowing. Ryoma runs in to protect Azura, but Azura blasts him away with a pillar of water, which is a thing that she can do apparently.

Dragon Corrin freaks out at the music and slashes Azura across the chest. Azura keeps singing and Corrin attempts to strangle her to death. Azura tells Corrin, Kill me if you want, but do it as yourself, which is a fantastic line that shakes Corrin out of her madness.

Corrin turns back into a human and has a flashback of Garon’s murdering Sumeragi and kidnapping her. Garon says You are my child now and grabs baby Corrin, which is so creepy its comical.

Corrin apologizes to Azura, saying she’s disgusted with herself. Ryoma explains that both royal families have dragon blood, the Nohrians from the Dusk Dragon and the Hoshidans from the Dawn Dragon. Corrin looks out over the destroyed town, a town full of innocent people destroyed by Nohr.

Ryoma points out that, because Garon gave Corrin an evil bomb sword, everything must have been his plan. Cool plan, by the way. Let’s see if I have it straight:

1: Give Corrin a bomb sword.

2: Have her commit an act of war.

3: Have Hans try to murder Corrin.

4: Hope he fails.

5: Hope the Hoshidans bring Corrin to their Queen, instead of imprisoning her for being an enemy soldier.

6: Have ghost soldiers invade Hoshido and take the sword from Corrin.

6: Cursed sword explodes, killing Mikoto and destroying her mind control barrier.

I mean, sure, there are probably simpler ways to kill Mikoto, ways that don’t involve praying that Hans fucks up and fails to kill Corrin. Garon could have, I don’t know, had the ghost soldiers kill Mikoto. Maybe their existence is tied to Ganglari, but that’s never actually stated, and the fact that they stick around and kill people after Ganglari explodes makes that questionable.

You know how, at the end of Naruto, Kishimoto had the villains reveal that they were behind every bad thing that happened in the series, and how it didn’t make sense and was dumb and convoluted? I’m getting Naruto vibes from this chapter.

Takumi blames Corrin for Mikoto’s death. And I mean, he has a point. Corrin’s the one who brought the clearly cursed sword her war criminal father gave her with her. Azura tells Takumi that it’s fine if he doesn’t trust her, but it's wrong for him to distrust Corrin, because Corrin is his blood. And that’s fucking stupid. Fire Emblem is filled with characters with evil relatives. Soren, Guinivere, Edelgard, Robin, the list goes on. Shit, there are evil blood relatives within this game.

Corrin suggests leaving and Yukimura tells her that Mikoto wouldn’t have wanted that and that Mikoyo knew she would die soon. He also mentions that there may be darker forces than Garon at work. Yukimura also points us towards a statue destroyed in the blast, a statue containing Yato, a diving golden sword that is said to be the key to peace. Yato flies up and over to Corrin.

Kaze runs in and reports a massive Nohrian force assembles at the border and the family marches off to war, with Ryoma declaring that he will not show any mercy. Corrin decides to follow Ryoma, in hopes of stopping the war. Azura tells Corrin to calm down, because getting into a fight could cause her to lose control and turn into a dragon again. Spoiler alert, this is literally the only chapter where Corrin loses control, because screw interesting characterization.

Azura gives Corrin her necklace, which turns out to be a dragonstone. Dragonstones and manaketes, people who can turn into dragons, are not new to Fire Emblem. Manaketes are normally uncomfortably young girls. Corrin is the first and currently the only manakete main lord. What’s more, Corrin is unique in their ability to wield both swords and dragonstones. It fits with the duality motif.

The necklace allows Corrin to control her dragon form, which is a bit of a disappointment. Corrin losing control and destroying stuff in this animalistic rage was really interesting characterization that is never seen after this chapter.

Azura decides to follow Corrin, because Corrin makes her feel safe. Apparently.

This chapter was really, really, good. Mikoto’s death was heartbreaking and Corrin going apeshit was some really strong character work. I forgot how absolutely terrifying Corrin’s transformation scene is. That said, this chapter hammers the final nail in the coffin for this story being morally grey. There is absolutely no reason to side with Nohr after this chapter, except for loyalty to the Nohrian royals.

At the start of the next chapter, we’ll choose our side in this war. And, not to tip my hand, but I don’t exactly think it’ll be a hard choice.

#fe #fire emblem #fe fates #fe 14 #fe14 #fire emblem 14 #fire emblem fates #corrin fe #ganglari #takumi fe #ryoma fe #azura fe #hoshido #sakura fe

14 notes · View notes

silent-scythe · 4 years

Text

True Winter

Hi y’all! Technically, I should be doing world history homework, but I’m not. No, I wrote angsty Cassian fanfiction.

This is crossposted onto AO3. I also started writing this during class and it’s not really edited, so my apologies for all the tense changes and any grammatical or spelling errors.

Anyways, I really hope y’all like it. This takes place when Cassian is little and dumped at Windhaven- he was like 5 for something? Idk, but I just wanted to write a short little something about it lmao.

Warnings: very mild cursing

༺༻

When people think of snow, they often think of wonderland. They imagine the tall, powerful pine trees with snow piled on top, little flecks of dark green representing the branches that peeked through. They imagine the icicles that dangle from the roofs of bungalows and townhouses. They imagine powdery snowflakes and snowball fights. They imagine a world turned to bliss, playful by day and serene at night. They imagine the coziness of winter, snuggled in their warm homes with warm drinks and warm clothes and warm hearts.

But what happens when they don’t get that privilege? When they instead, have to live outside, cold, shuddering at the freezing temperatures, fingers frozen, stomachs twisting in hunger?

There is a little boy.

He’s not a little boy now. No, he is a courageous, compassionate and loving male with a family and friends. But before that, he was just a bastard-born boy with hopes shattered like ice in the frigid grasp of death.

And he tells the story of true winter.

༺༻

Winter comes again, but it’s different.

It is harsh, the snow.

Cassian doesn’t like it. Hates it, even. Past winters had been spent with his mother, in front of a crackling fire pit, not alone in a camp full of people who hate him. He flinches at that thought, remembering all too clearly the last insult hurled at his face.

He hasn’t experienced an Illyrian winter yet, at least not one by himself, alone, tossed outside like a rag, left to become dust in the wind.

He trudges through the snow that has already reached his calves, his worn leather boots near tattered. He can feel the cold seep through the fabric, settling deep into his bones.

I need a new pair of shoes, he realizes. And food, water, maybe a blanket or warmer clothes.

He is but a boy right now, short and somewhat clumsy, although still more lithe than the average Illyrian, having spent his entire life fighting to live. His hazel eyes are round, with the type of innocence that seems both naive and old beyond his years. His hair is wild, tangled, and already down to his shoulders- he can’t remember the last time he got a haircut.

He doesn’t want to. Haircuts remind him of a different time. A time with warmth and cozy beds and delicious food and love. A time with his mother.

Cassian banishes the thought away, instead focusing on his task. Food, shoes, and something warm.

He shakes his wings, the light snow that dusted them falling off with the action. He clenches his small hands into fists, trying to keep warm, since he doesn’t have any gloves, either.

Cassian walks into the main parts of Windhaven, and the bloodied, crimson and gold sun rises.

A new day starts.

༺༻

Night is falling by the time he reaches his tent, which is on the outskirts of the camp, close to the forest. Cassian had heard tales before, tales of the creatures who prowled and hunted at night. He shudders at the thought.

He calls his home a tent, but it really isn’t. It is made with fabric- the material that the tents were made from- that he took from someone after beating them in a fight. He had found a tall pine tree to mark his home. Then, he had dragged bricks, mud, and rocks from around camp to his makeshift house, building a single wall besides the tree, then he had draped the tent-fabric diagonally from it, securing it to the ground with nails that he found. It is lopsided, falling apart, and beyond dirty, but it will have to make do, at least for now.

It is small and Cassian doesn’t mind, for he doesn’t have much with him. He is a bastard after all, thrown here into the mud with nothing, the tears on his face not yet dried. He has a small storage of food in one corner that he saves for the worst blizzards, the one he hears about from the adult Illyrians, the ones he knows are coming soon, and a change of clothes in the other corner. A bed is in the center, although it really isn’t a bed- just furs that lined the cold, hard ground, giving him something to help keep him warm during the dead of night.

Cassian sighs and wonders if he will ever be able to sleep in a real bed one day. “It’s unfair,” he yells into his shabby home. “It’s unfair that I’m just a little boy, yet I have to go through all of this shit!”

He is answered only by the howling winds.

Shit is a new word he learned a few days ago. Cassian doesn’t know if he used it correctly, but he doesn’t care.

In his left hand is a big piece of fur. He thinks it's fur from the deer that reside nearby, although he doesn’t know. He is lucky to get his hands on it- a female Illyrian had given it to him, her face softened in sorrow. In Cassian’s right hand is a makeshift bag, which is really a square cloth that he uses to hold the food he manages to get everyday. Today, he has a decently-sized piece of jerky and something that probably used to be bread.

“It’s food,” he says firmly, to himself. “I don’t care what it looks like, it’s food.”

He adds the fur to his bed and sits atop it. He puts the bread to one side and breaks the jerky, taking a smaller piece and putting the rest in his little pile of stocked-up food, saving it for later. Just in case.

There is a bowl next to him, with water inside that he collects every morning from dew-ridden moss and any clean puddles he can find, and if he has time, he goes to the pond to collect fresh water there. He takes a gulp of it and starts eating.

Cassian finishes the food far faster than he wants to. His stomach is still making knots, still unfilled, but he pretends not to notice.

Instead, he shuffles to the side, towards the short wall he made a year ago, the wall of bricks and stone that would probably fall if you kicked it too hard. He finds the little nook in between two rocks, and he pulls out a small black box.

In the box is a golden necklace with a ruby attached to it. It is probably the only clean thing he has in his possession. He dares not touch the jewel, for fear he might dirty it.

Cassian holds it close to his chest.

“Hi mom,” he whispers.

“I miss you. The other boys will laugh at me if they knew I talked to a necklace, but you’re the only friend I have. It’s cold here, and I’m starving,” he complains.

“I wish you would find me already. I know they held you back and they took me here, and I know it’s already been a year, but I believe in you. I know you’ll find me, and you’ll give me a warm hug and a kiss.

“Please find me, please. I miss you so much, mama. I hope you miss me too. They don’t like me here. The boys spit on me and bully me, but I have to endure it, since I need to survive. Endure is a new word I learned today. Devlon told me to endure. Well actually, he told me to endure or else I would get killed.”

Cassian’s eyes are teary.

“I miss you, mama. I love you.”

Then Cassian closes the box and he goes to sleep.

༺༻

Two weeks pass, and the brutality of true winter sets in. It’s worse than what Cassian imagined.

There are less and less boys he can fight with and take food from. His stockpile of food is down to nearly nothing, and the latest blizzard made it near impossible for him to get out of his tent, which has surprisingly managed to stay up despite the heavy snow.

Cassian is shivering, and he hasn’t eaten in days, not willing to waste his food.

He doesn’t know if he can make it through winter, especially considering it has only just started. He tries to remember a face. He tries so hard to conjure a face with fiery hazel eyes, long, wavy black hair, and soft lips, but his mother’s face becomes blurrier every day.

The boy is losing hope.

༺༻

More days pass, and the boy grows thinner, eyes duller.

The boy lost any semblance of hope.

He no longer talks to the box.

༺༻

Thanks for reading! I’d love to hear your comments and opinions, they make my day. Also, if you want to be tagged when I write more fanfiction (about Nesta, Cassian, or Nessian), comment in the notes :0

- Scythe

#cassian #cassian acotar #illyrian #devlon #acotar #story #short story #acomaf #acowar #acofas #acosf

22 notes · View notes

halothenthehorns · 3 years

Text

All in the Family

Chapter 39: The Knight Bus

BANG!

A sensation he was sadly familiar with but still not quite accustomed too, Regulus still wasn't expecting to be launched out of his seat the second he'd found himself stable again. There was a rushing sensation all around him, as if he were trying to find purchase at high speeds even if he felt no actual wind on him. Forcing one foot after the other back to his feet, he caught a glimpse out the window to a neighborhood he had no hope of identifying, because the second he realized it, there was another tremendous BANG! and he was right back on the floor having to start all over again.

The Knight Bus, his mind helpfully supplied as he began the arduous process again of stumbling back to his feet now in search of something with purpose. Though he'd never been on it himself, tales from others at school left him in no doubt, even as he spotted Evans at the far end of the bus in the same circumstances muttering obscenities with their current location mixed in. The two of them must be on the top floor, with only four available beds, two on each end clinking together like pendulums, and a staircase visible leading down.

It was the first time he'd found himself alone with her, but even given their circumstances, he found it a rather inconsequential thing. Maybe it was the fact that he still hadn't come to terms with everything he'd grown up with being shaded in a lie, maybe it was surviving multiple life threatening attempts in her presence, but whom he once would have considered a mortal enemy and someone to hold nothing more than contempt over, he instead found himself struggling to her side and offering a hand up.

She didn't accept, and he wasn't surprised. He couldn't even be angry, he wasn't even sure himself how he would have reacted letting her do something as casual as brush skin with him. Every part of him should have told him how repulsive that was, but really how was that any worse than the Dark Lord being a fraud? What was the truth anymore?

BANG!

Now the two were a tangle of limbs upon each other, and he more than happily disentangled himself and made his way past her to the staircase, she right behind him now without any discomfort of her own to the proximity. Whatever her problem with him was, a streak of pride or something of her own personal vendetta, he was well aware he had no room to judge her for it after he'd let himself be so easily swayed to judge everyone else the last fourteen years of his life.

On the next flight he found Smith and Longbottom supporting each other and trying the impossible feat themselves of navigating past rows of beds swishing this way and that on wheels, several colliding with them frequently, to the next set of stairs. Neither had the book, and with no echoing words around them they all assumed the Marauders hadn't yet managed to come across it in the chaos either, so down below they went.

With another obnoxious BANG! he finished his decent by crash landing below, and so viewing upside down Sirius at the wheel and trying with maddening inaccuracy to drive the bus in some semblance of a direction, Lupin beside him shouting something at the top of his lungs that were both profanities and unhelpful directions, while Potter and Pettigrew were trying desperately to stay stable long enough to draw their wands.

"This is insane," Longbottom spoke clearly beside him what they were all thinking.

"It's driving itself, I swear I'm not doing it!" Sirius snapped back, or at Lupin, or at the steering wheel itself for all he knew. It seemed true, as Regulus righted himself but stayed on all fours for now which seemed safest, that his brothers white knuckled grip had no sway in the maddening jerk that sent them all crashing into the same side of the bus.

"I found it!" Smith called in relief, having fallen hard into the last available bed on the row and pulling herself free with the book.

"Get on with it then," Potter pleaded as he was forced to magically repair his glasses from the last fall.

The chapter title was self explanatory, as if anyone needed clarification of where they were this time.

Harry's panic over his situation seemed laughable in comparison to theirs. Even as the delusional kid thought he was going to go to Azkaban for some underage magic of all things there was yet another BANG! and they were hurtling across an open valley, one lone house in the distance that still had to be moved from their path as Sirius kept trying in vain to do anything about the steering wheel unsuccessfully.

Alice shivered slightly as she kept on to Harry feeling threatened in that innocent Muggle neighborhood. Perhaps their circumstances, while far from pleasant, were to be hailed as much a good thing as the bus arriving for Harry in that moment as well. The kid had enough prior experience that she certainly believed something more was watching him than the stray dog he described. The Marauders were likely thinking the same, Black even let go of the wheel as he and his friends exchanged uneasy and confused looks.

A massive dog being mentioned in the exact same time frame as a Black was being mentioned in Harry's life? If James hadn't just had his head knocked into another window by this infernal bus, he would have done so himself just to make sure it was still attached. The four friends kept exchanging very worried looks as Smith kept going on, and then he swore his heart stuttered to a complete stop when an article from the Daily Prophet ruined their life.

Not Sirius. It was the only thought that mattered as there was yet another tremendous BANG! and this time he had to grasp onto Sirius to stay upright, and of course he caught him. The two were now grasping the steering wheel, his best mate looking dazed as if the words never quite sunk in.

Remus listened to Alice read the article with a detached horror. One part listened to every detail stuttered out, cataloging everything like he would any stupid rumor he heard in school. He couldn't look away from Sirius through it.

As Alice fumbled through the rest of the article and finished, the most silence this bus could contain managed to linger. The engine still revved in their ears, the beds all crashed together like cymbals, and the presence of magic in the air filling yet another BANG! could not be unheard, but none was louder than the stillness of the eight of them as this news sunk in.

Regulus burst out laughing. It was more empty noise really, his eyes were buggered practically out of his head and it was very clear he was now clinging to a bed-frame for more support than their mad journey required with that white-knuckled grip.

"Err, Alice, how about we ah, continue this back upstairs-" Frank began, already trying to make his way there.

Prongs immediately surged forward, anger blistering off of him with such intensity Peter wondered if the windows would implode. "What the bloody hell does that mean?"

"That we'd like to not have to spend anymore time around you lot than we have to," Alice snapped back at once, only half his size but crossing her arms and backing to where her boyfriend was now, though she'd hesitated to follow him a mere second ago.

Clearly sensing danger and always trying to diffuse it first, Remus stepped forward and tried to pull him back, "let it go Prongs, if they think-"

"That damned paper doesn't mean anything!" James was red in the face now, more angry than any of them had ever seen him. "And I don't appreciate the insinuation you think otherwise! Sirius has never, would never-"

"What?" Evans snapped, getting in between him and Alice with her own fiery glare that was much more familiar. "Tried to blow his way out of a problem? Attacked others to get what he wants?"

Peter's heart actually stuttered in his chest with fear as a muscle started ticking in Prongs jaw, he looked for a second like he'd quite like to hit something, and he'd certainly never looked that way at Evans.

BANG!

The new location outside only succeed in tossing them all about again, but of course the tension only grew worse the more chaos their surroundings offered. Remus grasped James' shoulder firmly now and actively tried to pull him away from the three.

Sirius still hadn't moved.

"Come on Prongs, it's a bloody stupid article, probably some misunderstanding-"

"People don't get sent to Azkaban for misunderstandings!" Frank shot back, his hand twitching uncomfortably for his wand.

BANG!

"Can someone please finish the ruddy chapter and get us off this bus!" Regulus interrupted, a gray pallor to his skin as he watched the lot. He'd made no move to intervene in the fight, but it was as clear to him as anyone that's what was about to happen.

"Happily," Alice pacified by sitting down where she was for whatever stability that could give her.

Nobody really took in another word, not Harry's childish worry about whatever trouble he'd caused and certainly little care for whatever the Minister was doing arriving. Frank and Evans remained tense and right beside Alice as if fearing an attack any second. Moony alternated between keeping his hand on Prongs who never stopped glaring at the lot, and watching Sirius, who seemed to have locked down.

Peter and Regulus were left to stand across from each other, to watch and wonder not for the first time if they were going to get out of this alive.

HPHPHPHP

Ah chaos, the best friend a writer needs to advance the plot in awkward silence. I regret nothing! Hope you enjoyed!

#Harry Potter #fanfiction #reading the books #Marauders #Wolfstar #PoA #Sirius Black #Remus Lupin #Lily Evans #James Potter #Regulus Black #Peter Pettigrew #Frank Longbottom #Alice Smith

3 notes · View notes

flightofaqrow · 3 years

Text

arrested

qrow + Robyn ( @boundariestcbreak )

Robyn didn’t want to ask what had happened, but how would she know why they were in the back of an airship in bolas otherwise? She could tell that something bad had happened, from the look on Qrow’s face and the bloody pin that she knew belonged to Clover clutched in his hands.

“You still with me, 5′o clock?” She asked softly.

warmth on qrow’s shoulders pulls him from his own mind. Robyn. he should focus on her. the one who has a pulse.

tears float in his eyes and words burn his tongue.

“yeah. …more or less,” a flat, dry voice answers.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Not to mention she was pretty sure she had a concussion, but she’d worry about that later.

“You still with me, 5′o clock?” She asked softly.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

like many times that night, qrow had a choice to make. he could have scuttled to grab Harbinger before the authorities came, but instead he went for the pin. now they have her - his precious blade, soaked in innocent blood for the first time in years, for the first time since her enhancement at beacon which washed away all traces of what he had spilled as a bandit.

he’s still not sure why a shiny memento felt more important at the time, but he doesn’t regret it. better to hold this than his flask, to run his thumbs over dirty metal to remember why he’s still fighting, than the cap to poison for forgetting.

warmth on his shoulders pulls him from his own mind. Robyn. he should focus on her. the one who has a pulse.

tears float in his eyes and words burn his tongue.

“yeah. …more or less,” a flat, dry voice answers. “how you feeling? took a pretty hard hit back there.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn looks steadily back at him, ignoring how doing so makes her head hurt as she waves his concern off to the best of her ability. Never has she been more thankful for her ability to keep a poker face than she is right now. Thankfully, she’s the one with the lie detecting semblance and not him, because it would be significantly harder to keep how she’s really feeling from him if that was the case.

“It was a little bump on the head. I’ve dealt with worse.” She says. This isn’t necessarily true, especially if she does in fact have a concussion, but he doesn’t need to know that. He’s clearly going through a lot as it is, she has no desire to make everything he’s dealing with worse.

She does care about those around her, and Qrow hasn’t given her much reason not to be that way with him.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

“yeah, well, nothin’s too little when dealin’ with your head,” qrow grumbles. he doesn’t need a lie detector to know simple facts. Robyn seems to be able to look at him with focus in her eyes, and hasn’t fallen over or lost her dinner since rousing from unconsciousness, so those were good enough signs not the push the issue.

trying to think logically with his own head helps push out the flood from his heart.

“ugh,” he grunts at nothing in particular. there’s a whole list in his head of places he’d rather be right now than heading to atlas. but when his current endgame resides there, perhaps he can make use of the trip. his thumb strokes the pin in his hand yet again. “can’t believe we’re gonna be stuck in a damn interrogation while everyone’s fightin’ for their lives out there.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn gives a ‘fair enough’ nod. He’s certainly not wrong about that, after all. Head injuries are dangerous because of the fact that the brain is housed in there. Which is also why it bleeds so much if you get a head wound. Thankfully, though, as far as she’s aware, she’s not bleeding. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t have a concussion. Thankfully, though, Qrow doesn’t seem inclined to press the subject at all, and she’d be lying if she said she isn’t grateful for that fact.

She blinks at him as he grunts. When he speaks, she supposes that his grunt makes sense. “Neither can I.” She agrees. “My Huntresses will look after everyone, Qrow, don’t worry.” She says, and she means it, because she knows them nearly as well as she knows herself. “Even with me not around to call the shots.”

They’d all do anything for the people of Mantle, herself included.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

she should be getting her injuries checked out before much else, anyway, but these might be extenuating circumstances. there are things he can do something about, and things he can’t, and neither getting Robyn to talk if she doesn’t want to nor treating someone’s brain is part of his skillset. not his current objective.

his shoulders sink even further. relying on other people isn’t something he’s great at, but it’s the best they’ve got for now. and the Huntresses weren’t rookie pushovers when he met them last. he’ll have to trust her word.

“that’s a little reassurin’ at least. but there’s still only so many of ‘em.”

not that two more people could handle the whole of the city, but two more huntsfolk could at least save how many more lives? they’ve already lost… so much…

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn nods. She knows that she should probably be offended that he thinks the knowledge that her huntresses are down there protecting people right at this moment is only ‘a little’ reassuring, but she can’t blame him. After all, he doesn’t know them like she does. She removes her hand from his shoulder, worried that keeping her hand on his shoulder for too long might make him uncomfortable.

“They’ll do everything they can.” Hopefully they could get all of this cleared up soon, and go back to help.

The only problem with that was, Robyn still wasn’t entirely sure what had even happened in general. She’d gotten knocked unconscious and when she woke up, Clover was dead, Qrow was in restraints and she was being put into them as well.

“Anything I should know, going into the ‘interrogation’?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

qrow can hear the protectiveness in her voice. but this had nothing to do with skill or faith and everything to do with numbers. even still, he placates with a return nod to settle the discussion, “i know they will. they’re good huntresses.”

the feel of her hand had actually faded to the point he hadn’t even thought about it until it was gone. he’s not sure what that says about either his own state or how comforting it had really been. but it’s fine.

his brows furrow at her question, any solemnity left changing to stern seriousness. hands close around the clover pin once more, obscuring it from thought and view. he really doesn’t want to relive and recount painful steps just yet, when he’s still processing himself, still trying to wring truth from nightmare.

“no,” he insists. it would do no good right now, no matter how much he wants to tell her and how bad she wants to know. not to mention, they’re likely listening to every word they say right now, somehow.

“you were unconscious the rest of the fight. an unreliable witness. use that to get outta here as soon as possible. an’ on top of that, i got enough ridin’ against me on this one. definitely don’t need anyone accusin’ me of just fillin’ the blanks for you and biasing any testimony.” it would give them grounds to throw anything helpful to him right out.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn smiles a little at his words, and nods. “That they are.” She agrees without hesitation. He has no idea how loyal they truly are. But then, why would he when he’s never interacted with them beyond possibly a few cursory exchanges in passing, if even that.

She wishes she could say his insistence to not tell her makes her feel better about the situation. Besides, it might be safer for them not to discuss what has happened, anyway.

He’s right, though-she was unconscious for the fight once the ship hit the ground, and she isn’t sure if that’s a good thing or a bad thing. “Fair enough.” She says softly. “Qrow, I’m not going to leave you. You know that right? Even if, when, I get cleared, I’ll stick around. You deserve to have someone in your corner.”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he doesn’t.

he deserves nothing but exactly what’s coming to him. for what he did. what he didn’t do. all the should’ve’s and could’ve’s that exist in time and possibilities long gone, and their absence rends his head and heart open anew. he’s cursed to always be divided from the ones he loves.

he appreciates Robyn’s olive branch of friendship, even without knowing the whole story. she tells him everything he wants to hear when he needs to hear it most, but the truth is it just sits like more guilt in his gut, twists the dagger deeper; the truth is it doesn’t matter. her words choke him with the weight of promises that will only sink both of them, send them crashing right back into the ground from another metaphorical plane, and he doesn’t want to see even more blood on the snow. qrow has other plans, a personal mission to take on alone.

“don’t say that,” he shakes his head with a snarl, still volatile emotions getting one up on him again, “you need to get back to mantle, Robyn.”

and he needs to get to james.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Robyn blinks in surprise when he snarls at her. “And I will. But we’re in the same boat right now and I’m not going to leave you here to deal with things on your own if I can do something to help.” They were bold words, she knew this, especially since she wasn’t even sure if she could do anything to help him. And it certainly seems like he doesn’t want her help. Really, she should just cut her losses now and move on.

She should, but she already knows she isn’t going to.

If he actually wants her to leave, to go back to Mantle right now, he’s going to have to make her, and that’s not something she thinks he’ll do.

“Looks like you’re stuck with me for a little while longer 5′o clock.” She tries to keep her voice light, but she can feel a knot of nerves in her stomach like a fist.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

he still no longer looks at her, still doesn’t ease up or relax. qrow finds no solace in her insistence, no matter how much he wants to. fists clench tighter, feet press restlessly into the ground. the people of mantle might buy all those sappy platitudes, but qrow doesn’t.

he’s dealt with things on his own for several years leading up to this. he can handle himself. he doesn’t want or need help; it never turns out well. and Robyn doesn’t even know him to have any idea of what attempts at these stupid oaths to stand by him mean. she has other sworn duties to attend to, other people who need her, she shouldn’t be adding him to that pile right now.

her sentiment overrides logic; honestly, he’d expected better, while simultaneously expecting nothing less - a kind heart and charisma her driving nature.

but he’s shoved back against pushier people than her, kept them at arm’s length in his life, and fight back he will when the time comes.

“we might be stuck here yet, but with me isn’t where you belong,” he sighs, harder, “don’t you get that?”

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Yes, Robyn did understand that. But she wasn’t sure that she could leave him here by himself once she got cleared-because after getting knocked out, she hadn’t been a part of the fight so they couldn’t punish her for that, right? Or maybe that was wishful thinking, given the fact that she knew General Ironwood already likely didn’t think very highly of her. Sure, they had helped in evacuating Mantle, but considering he was just going to abandon the rest of Mantle, and maybe even the rest of Atlas too, she wasn’t exactly happy with him.

But there had to be a reason he’d gone to such an extreme so quickly, and that was what she was curious about.

“Yes, I do understand that, Qrow.” She told him. “And I also understand that I don’t want you to be alone, so you’re just going to have to deal with me sticking around.” It occurred to her after she’d spoken that she’d called him ‘Qrow’ and not ‘5′O Clock Shadow’.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

stuck. the both of them are stuck in this situation and everything sucks. Robyn stuck here when she could be defending mantle. qrow stuck here with her, when he needs to get far away. Clover stuck forever in the land of the not-living wherever his body has gotten carried away to by now. While Tyrian the only bastard deserving of being locked up runs free.

all thanks to ironwood.

head weighing like a boulder atop his fists with bloody pin still clutched inside, qrow squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think.

no room to feel right now, not the pain of the past few hours, not the warmth of Robyn and her caring heart beside him. but she’s right, at least for now, he must deal with it.

he has no argument left. no passion left. no information or advice on next steps left to offer. just emptiness and the goal of retribution he fills it with.

and for now, right now, anyway. he sits tight. too tight, wrapped up in himself and the barbed wire minefield that forever chokes him and his choices.

so fine. fine. though qrow refuses to speak it, he allows himself just this moment

to be glad he’s not alone.

#* she can keep a man honest = boundariestcbreak ** robyn *#* we got work to do = ic *#* you've earned it = vol 7 *#* how do you think legends and fairy tales get started? = thread archive *#me; after vol 7: qrow's gonna be even more closed off; crwby; during vol 8; actually he's gonna spill his guts #can't get 'em all #meanwhile aura mentioning concussions was on point for those cut scenes

5 notes · View notes

calliecat93 · 4 years

Text

Well didn’t get this done before Chapter Five came out, but I’m still MUCH more caught up than I had been. Good thing they’re going on a six week break here soon since that’ll not only let me catch my barrings... but let my soul have a break, GOOD GOD THESE PAST TWO CHAPTERS HIT HARD!As far this specific chapter goes... boy I did not expect me to shock me as much as it did. So w\let’s not waste anymore time and jump right into it.

Overview

Robyn is recalling a story about Joanna in prison, but neither Jaques or Qrow are all that into. But she does manage to get Qrow to finally smile, as well as notice him still holding Clover’s badge. She apologizes for what happened, which lets Qrow vent about the entire fiasco and how for the first time in so long, it felt like he had made a connection without having to fear his Semblance ruining it. Robyn... actually understands, herself having been ostracized due to her lie detecting Semblance making people fear her revealing their secrets. Harriet and Marrow enter, throwing Watts ack into his cell. Harriet doesn’t believe Qrow declaring his innocence, even when Robyn offers to use her Semblance. Robyn also calls Harriet out on essentially blaming others and not caring about the truth since it’s easier for her to not accept her own blame. Before Harriet can act, Marrow stops her and the speedster storms off/

Back in the tundra, JYR are still giving chase to The Hound, Jaune even launching Ren at it. It doesn’t work and The Hound even calls for backup, summoning more Grimm. It leads to a giant chase sequence, including a new song that IDT has a title yet, but it is dark as Hell. The chase ends with two of the bikes being destroyed, Yang and Jaune almost falling over a cliff until Ren uses his grappling features to save them, and the three are forced to watch as The Hound escapes with Oscar in it’s clutches. Back up in Atlas, RWBNM have gone to, surprisingly, the Schnee Manor to lay low and tend to Nora. Whitley is less than pleased, especially with what Weiss did not even 24 hours ago in-show, but Weiss makes it clear that they’re not leaving and she sends him to his room. As Weiss and May tend to Nora, Blake sees Ruby worried about the others. She suggests that Ruby can still call Yang... but there’s one problem, Ruby already did.

JYR are out of signal range, forcing them to make their way back to Mantle on-foot. During the trek however, Ren’s closed up attitude is flaring up, which eventually causes Yang to get on his case. Ren i9s frustrated due to not just losing Oscar, but everything that has happened. Losing the Relics, Ironwood’s betrayal, the current Grimm attack with Salem just outside the doorstep. Even with yang pointing out their accomplishments and admitting that they have made mistakes but still pulled through, Ren’s anger flares as he points out that they are WAY in over their heads. Jaune tries to calm them both down, but Ren continues to point to how Ruby is leading them despite still being a kid, he himself is an orphan form the middle of nowhere, and the biggest shock is him getting after Jaune for forging his way into Beacon. This shocks everyone, even Ren himself, but Jaune simply says that he’s getting out of the cold and walks on. Yang asks if Ren just wats to push everyone away before following, leaving Ren shocked and upset.

Meanwhile... oh boy, this scene. Oscar wakes up and standing right across from him is Salem. She addresses Ozma and how long it’s been since she’s seen him and... yeah it’s pretty unsettling. Oscar tries to act like Oz, but Salem sees right through it and tries to get Oscar to give her answers. He genuinely doesn’t know where the Beacon Relic is, so Salem tries to get the password to the Lamp out. When he tries to use the ‘out of questions’ ploy... Salem uses her magic to... magically torture him... yeah it’s... rough. Oscar still doesn’t talk, so Salem brings out Hazel... you know, the guy who hayes Oz probably more than anyone and has sworn to kill him? Yeah...

Cinder meets with Salem, taken back by The Hound which Salem calls an experiment. Cinder again tries to convince her to let her go after Penny, but Salem again orders her to stay put. Cinder agrees... well, verbally anyways. But she knows that the heroes are likely going to still try and launch Amity, so sh decides to go for the Maiden Power anyways. Neo is less than thrilled with this plan, but Cinder has another person willing to help her: Emerald.

Back in the tundra, JYR have found shelter for the night and Jaune admits that Ren is correct about how he cheated his way into Beacon. But he’s since realized that he was above his mistake and tries to convince Ren to not push them out, knowing fully well how all that it does is hurt you more. If it did any good, Ren doesn’t show it as he goes to sit outside. Yang has found a part to fix the bike and also assures Jaune that she knows that he worked hard to get to where he is now. She starts working on the part before asking Jaune if ‘she’ thinks any less of her. Jaune, assuming that she means Ruby, assures her that they’re sisters and will be fine... but Yang was talking about a certain cat girl. Our episode ends here... but not before showing us the ice nearby beginning to crack... thanks a lot CRWBY!

Review

Like I said in the intro, I didn’t expect this chapter to shock me like it did. Did I expect intensity? Of course, especially after the last chapter? Did I expect what we got? Nope, but it was perfect!

Let’s talk about Ren first. Ever since last volume, it’s been clear that he’s been unraveling. He wasn’t engaging in Nora’s antics anymore, was more closed up than usual, seemed in agreement with Ironwood at one point, and of course his mini-breakdown in the finale Not even Nora and him kissing helped, heck considering what happened after it only seemed to make him worse. Even now he’s at serious odds with Nora for the first time since childhood, something that is clearly bothering him despite him keeping it to the chest. He’s trying to keep his focus on his duty, but with everything going more and more wrong, the facade is not only shattering, but the cracks are causing him to push those close to him away.

His argument with Yang was a tense moment. I like it though. Not only for more unique character dynamics, but out of every character Yang will lay it out as it is. If Ren’s going to have an attitude problem, then she will call it out and not give a damn about the reason why. Since Nora can’t get though to him, the harsher approach is kind of the only thing left. Ren’s breakdown was hard to watch... and he is right to an extent. They are in over their heads. Their decision, even if the right one morally, is creating more problems and endanger more lives. Ruby is still a kid and she’s placed far too much on herself. I think he is underestimating himself and the others about not being ready, but his concerns are completely understandable and he has some good, if harsh, points.

But then he brings up Jaune cheating his way into beacon. Yeah, been a while since that came up, huh? I actually gasped when that came up. While Ren clearly didn’t mean for that to come out, the fact that he did when pointing out that they’re way over their heads does display at least some doubts he has about his leader. JNR have grown close over the past few volumes, Ren and Nora essentially considering Jaune family by the time of Volume 6. So hearing this was hard, especially since all that Jaune was doing was trying to calm him and Yang down.

I do, however, like how Jaune reacted. Back in the early volumes, he likely would have taken it as a blow to his confidence and gotten huffy about it. Now? While the blow clearly stung, he keeps himself in check and keeps focus on finding shelter. Then once there, he outright admits that Ren’s right and tries to comfort him. He tries to advise him on opening up and how closing yourself off doesn’t help. Considering that he tried this both in V1 when we found out how he cheated and after Pyrrha died and only getting better when he allowed others to help, he absolutely knows how Ren feels. But the fat that he handled this so maturely and tried to help his friend instead of get angsty about it shows how much he’s grown. It’s really nice to see.

Now let’s talk about Weiss and Whitley. So this got some... mixed reception. Some were upset about Weiss pointing her weapon and Whitley and her general harsh behavior towards him this chapter. Now I do understand the first part since I was similarly annoyed at Yang for threatening Qrow in Volume Six when all that he was trying to do was be reasonable about the Lamp. It was likely too harsh, but in farness Weis sis not only trying to help save the kingdom, but one of her teammates is in critical condition and she has no time for Whitley to be angry at her. The Manor is the safest place at the moment, and she needs to get Nora care now. Not saying it’s a justification, but it isn’t her being mean for the sake of it either.

But even so... guys I’m sorry, but do you seriously expect Weiss to suddenly forgive and coddle Whitley this soon? After years of him belittling her and rubbing his success in her face while she was punished, not to mention seeming more concerned about the family reputation than the current conflict? I’m sorry , but it’s not that simple. Yes, Whitley is also a victim who was manipulated and groomed by his father and unlike Weiss, he was never able to get a proper support system or have any family to help like how Weiss had Winter. I do feel bad for him, and I do think that Weiss will take her mother’s words form the last volume and will help Whitley later in the volume. But they’ve both hurt each other. Whitley by treating Weiss badly, and Weiss not giving him support like she was given. They’re both victims AND hurt each other. Some try to paint it as one is problematic and the other is an innocent child, and that’s simply untrue. They’re only going to realize that if and when they talk out their problems with each other out, it’s just a matter of when it’ll be. It takes time to mend these kinds of things, sadly.

Next is the villains scene... ho boy. So I’m gonna wait on Cinder for the next chapter, but her ignoring Salem in favor of power isn’t a shock at all. No, let’s discuss Oscar. Just... this poor, poor kid. He’s trying to be brave, but seeing him get tortured and especially the screaming?! Aaron Dismuke, why do this to me you jerk?! I do admire him for trying it imitate Oz and keep his composure, but it was just so... brutal to watch. Salem doing it so calmly and being perfectly willing to wait for the answers since she can just make Oscar suffer is... well, evil. And don’t think I missed her with the shadow versions of her daughters. Some say that humanizes her, but since she remorsefully tortured a child and sicked an emotionally unstable brute to physically harm him without a care in the world... no. It didn’t excuse Ironwood, and it sure as Hell isn’t excusing Salem. Tis just makes her all the more terrifying.

Okay... last thing is that scene at the end. The Bumblebee implication scene. So... I won’t lie it did annoy me at first. Before anyone says anything, it was NOT because of hating the ship or anything stupid like that. I’m not a huge Bumblebee fan, but anyone who keeps saying there’s nothing there at this point is living in denial. It’s happening people and since at least Volume 6, I think they’ve been doing it pretty well. My issue is mainly just because... we’ve had plenty of Bumblebee content. Volume 7 had them together in pretty much every scene, and I just don’t like having a pair of characters limited like that. I had the same issue with Renora, especially in Volumes 1-3, and with shipping in general. The main reason though is that I want there to be some more focus on Ruby and Yang because I feel like it’s been a long time and that there is a genuine conflict between them that can bring some interesting things for both. I’m not saying they need to be at each other’s throats, but siblings DO argue and no, it doesn’t always get easily resolved and I am speaking form experience here. To be fair it could happen later and Ruby herself hasn’t been pondering on it that much either. Heck Blake seemed more concerned about it than either of them have. But I would like to see more than just the one pair that I’ve already seen focused on plenty of times because it’s limiting. That’s just a personal thing though and I’ve always enjoyed sibling stuff more than romance, so yeah just a me thing.

That being said, those saying that Yang doesn’t care about Ruby need to calm down. No, that is NO the case. Did we forget Yang trying to console a broke Ruby despite her own grief just last volume? Mere hours ago in-show at that? Despite what I said above and while she’s clearly concerned after Ruby’s recent choices, Yang still loves and ultimately trusts her sister. She never said that she didn’t think that Ruby would fail or was wasting her time, she just felt like Mantle needed them more and the consequences to trying were too much. Heck this is a spoiler, but considering her reaction in the next chapter, it only reinforces that belief. At least with Blake, this is the first time they’ve willingly split apart and Yang clearly still has some abandonment issues and concerns. Plus... yeah, it’s natural when you have feelings for someone to worry if they made a bad choice that may make them doubt them. Blake won’t, but it’s understandable. Heck, Blake was clearly concerned about Yang when trying to get Ruby to call. I think she was trying to comfort Ruby as well with the suggestion, but it was still pretty evident... also Ruby and Blake interaction, yay! Still yeah guys, let’s just... chill a little bit and see what more comes of anything.

Okay, got that out of my system, and I apologize if it came across wrong. Whatever annoyance I had I’m over anyways, especially after the recent chapter. Anyways, the chapter had so much good. Plus we not only had a badass chase sequence, but a new song! Again, IDK the title, but it was another banger for sure. The opening scene with row and Robyn bonding and Robyn calling out Harriet was great. Marrow’s subtle expressions showing how not okay he is, and I’m seriously hoping that he may be the one to free the others. It would be a really good move for his character in him deciding that being lawful doesn’t equal the right thing, and making it right especially considering his interaction with Robyn last volume. The animation was good with the backgrounds looking fantastic, the pacing has been on fire, and of course that ominous ending. God they’re trying to keep us on edge, and I love it!

Chapter Stats

Favorite Character: Lie Ren Favorite Scene: Ren losing it in the tundra Least Favorite Scene: Probably the wrong term, but seeing Oscar be tortured while well done was hard. Favorite Voice Actor: Neath Oum (Ren Favorite Animation: JYR chasing The Hound Rating: 9.9/10

Final Thoughts

This was fantastic, especially in the character department. I haven’t been this shocked in a good while. It hurt no doubt, but the writing and voice performances were so well done. Seriously, this is probably Neath’s best performance to date. Add in the great animation, the tone being on point, and the set-ups with the Schnee Manor and cracking ice and the fact that this is only Chapter Four is crazy. But it’s only going to get crazier people... oh so, so much crazier. Only one review to go until I’m back to being caught up... my poor heart XD

#rwby #rwby8 #rwby spoilers #rwby reviews #rwby musings #callie reviews

6 notes · View notes

allicekitty13 · 4 years

Text

Twilight Noir: Chapter 2

Read On Ao3

Alice narrowed her eyes and took slow, tentative steps toward the voice. She released the hesitant breath she wasn't aware she'd been holding as she laid eyes on a semifamiliar looking face. He was a tall blonde who leaned against the brick wall of one of the buildings that made up the alley, a cigarette burned in his left hand, and a cowboy hat sat atop his head tilted down just slightly covering his presumably red eyes.

She'd seen the man before on a few sparse occasions; despite her brother Emmett's best efforts, it had been no secret to her that he was involved in something secretive. The blonde, whose name she wasn't aware of, had shown up at their home on occasion always to whisk her brother away in the middle of the night. As intrigued as she was, she'd never attempted to question the occurrences, nor had any visions ever crossed her sight that would have cleared anything up.

Alice had only existed to her knowledge for a little over twenty years; she knew she had to have had a human life before this; unfortunately, she had no recollection of such an existence. While she was beginning to gain a semblance of control over her gift, it was a slowgoing process. Visions tended to come of their own volition; while Alice could force them on occasion, she was only able to see a few hours ahead at most. It wasn't exactly helpful in situations such as the mystery she currently found herself.

Alice stood for a moment in quiet contemplation, attempting to discern how best to address the stranger who had summoned her. "I seem to be at a disadvantage, sir; it appears you know who I am despite my having never met you." She finally greeted.

"It's Jasper, ma'am." He responded calmly with a sly grin.

"Well, Jasper, what is it I can do for you."

"Emmett's innocent."

"I know."

Jasper's head snapped up at the declaration turning to face her more directly with narrowed eyes. "What exactly did he tell you."

"He won't tell me anything; he actually insisted I stay out of it. Call it a strong intuition or wishful thinking, but I know in my gut he's innocent." She shrugged, indicating the end of her piece when his words dawned on her abruptly. "Why... what do you know."

"Not here." He glanced around the alley, "They have eyes everywhere; I've been waiting here for you too long."

"Waiting for me? Why are you hiding out in an alleyway waiting for me?"

"There's a diner, come with me, and I'll answer your questions."

She had a multitude of questions to which she wanted answers, particularly any information he may have that would help clear her brother's name. So while she wasn't sure if this man could be trusted, she reluctantly reached for his now outstretched arm, intending to link her own through. However, the second their bodies made contact, a new, unexpected manifestation of her gift took hold of her being.

One of her more prophetic visions crossed her sight, the kind that came without warning, that she couldn't control. These were the visions that took her entirely from the present, threatening to knock her from her feet. It was overwhelming, coming in fast flashes that would have caused her heart to race, were it still able to beat. A wedding, shopping trips, stolen kisses, all involving the strange, suspicious man who stood before her.

It wasn't as though she'd never thought about Jasper before; he was very attractive. She knew he'd noticed her as well; there were more than a few times she'd caught his eyes lingering on her place hidden in the shadows when he came for Emmett. She always remained hidden when they had a vampiric visitor; Carlisle deemed it safer with a gift such as hers.

The images caused her heart to soften; the idea of such a bright and happy future full of love filled her with glee. Alice was positive she had to have reflected this somehow in her facial expression or body language, but if Jasper had noticed, he didn't let on.

When she came too, he was looking down at her in concern. She noticed he'd placed a steadying hand gently on her shoulder to help keep her upright. "Everything alright, ma'am?"

"Yeah," She replied breathlessly as she shook her head to clear the visions. Regaining composure, she looped her arm through his and indicated he direct them to the second location. Romantic fantasies could be dealt with later; if this vision was any indication, they assuredly would be. A vision as strong as what she just saw was nearly impossible to change. Nothing was set in stone; the future was fluid; that much she knew. However, a vision like that was almost likened to fate.

----

The diner was an unassuming dimly lit space; leather booths lined the left side, a long counter on the right had stools peppered alongside the front. There were only a handful of people inside; an older man sat at the counter, staring down at an untouched plate of eggs, there was a couple sat in the far corner booth, and the waitress behind the counter who hardly registered their entrance. It was clear to Alice why Jasper had chosen this location to talk; the people inside seemed to keep to themselves.

He led her to one of the booths in the middle of the row, offering to take her coat before she sat. He'd mumbled something about appearances as he gestured to the surrounding humans when she'd raised an eyebrow in question. They sat in silence as the waitress approached, a tall woman named Betty. Alice ordered a coffee, extra sugar while her companion declined to order anything.

"What happened to appearances." She questioned with a smirk.

"It's wasteful; we both know neither of us will actually be consuming anything." He went silent again until Betty returned with the coffee, setting it down gently before proceeding to quickly leave the pair alone.

"Alright," Jasper leaned forward as soon as he felt confident they wouldn't be bothered further, addressing Alice in a whisper. "I'm sure you have many questions. It's safe here for now, but they'll follow eventually."

He was right; there were a lot of things she wanted answers to. "Okay, who is this they you keep referring to. Why wait for me, you're clearly well informed on my family. Surely Edward passed by that alley long before I did; wouldn't he have been more help to you? What do you know about Emmett's arrest, and how can you help me get him freed." She leaned back in her seat after the barrage of inquiries faking a sip of her coffee as she eyed him with impatience.

The clock was ticking; she had no idea if a vampire had ever been sent to human prison before or what would happen in that scenario. She also didn't know if Rosalie was still alive; surely, no human would be able to take her by surprise. Alice was fully aware that they were dealing with their own kind.

"Edward doesn't trust me," He replied simply, staring out the large glass window to their left. "He's read my mind one too many times; he'll never say that to my face, of course. But I've got my own abilities; I can feel the waves of mistrust and distaste radiating from him."

"I have the ability to read and influence the emotions of those around me." He clarified as he took in Alice's confusion.

"I was under the impression if you had an ability like that, it was to be kept secret. Carlisle told me there's a group who rules our kind that would stop at nothing to get their hands on you should they discover such a power."

"That, my dear, would be the they in this equation. They're called the Volturi; I was under the impression they'd caught word of my group's actions and were here to put a stop to us." He stared at Alice in concern as he spoke as though he were worried for her, and her specifically. "In light of recent information, however, I don't think they care about my organization at all. I think they're here for a more sinister purpose."

"What does any of this have to do with Emmett?"

"When Rosalie went missing, it didn't sit right with me; I did a little investigating. I think they have a member working in the mortal legal system and had him framed as a distraction."

"What can I do to help?"

"Stay out of this; let me protect you." He asked her with pleading eyes. "I think you might be in just as much if not more danger than your brother."

"No. With or without your help, I'm not letting this go."

He stared at her in challenge for quite a while; she continued taking bogus sips of coffee, refusing to back down. With a long sigh, he finally relented. "If you truly want to help, I think it's time you met Maria."

#Jalice #alice cullen #jasper hale #Twilight #twilight fic

7 notes · View notes

feistypaants-archived · 5 years

Text

False Positive [Chapter 5]

Rating: M Words: 2451 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When things don’t go according to plan and Anna finds herself alone and pregnant, she looks to her sister’s best friend, Kristoff, and almost makes a huge mistake.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: Kristoff? Ignoring his own feelings in favor of making sure someone else (Anna) is okay? It’s more likely than you think!

anyway i should probably just credit Jilly as a cowriter at this point. Assume she’s helped me with every chapter lmao. A blessing.

Enjoy!

God damn it. God. Damn. It.

Kristoff was pretty sure he was angrier than he had ever been before in his entire life. Nothing on earth could have prepared him for this. How could one of the most important people in his life - one of the only people he trusted - try to trick him like this? How could she do that?

No, he felt more than anger. He felt betrayed. He felt like everything had shattered around him. He felt a dull ache in his chest, and then something he couldn’t place, something begging him to go back and wrap her up in his arms and work on a solution together… but then there was the anger again.

Why didn’t she just talk to him?

He might have been willing to help. He might have been able to do something to help. But she acted impulsively, acted without thinking, without worrying about how this would affect him.

Just like she always did when she was scared.

Scared.

God she was probably so scared…

Kristoff let a sigh escape his lungs and wiped at his face. That didn’t excuse this. Nothing would ever excuse this. Anna was never going to learn how her actions can hurt others if he just forgave her every single time she messed up. No, she needed to see that there were consequences for her bad decisions. She needed to grow up.

All of this was her own doing. She was stupid for dating Hans in the first place, right? He was twenty-three when he met her. She was seventeen. And she stuck around after years of being mistreated and kept on a leash. What stupid girl —

Sven barked and pulled forward on the harness, forcing Kristoff’s thoughts off of their current trajectory.

No. Kristoff scolded himself for even so much as thinking that about Anna. She wasn’t stupid. Hans was predatory. He met a girl who loved harder than anyone he ever knew, who was alone and desperate for someone to love her again, and took advantage of her. Then he got her pregnant, and after years of leading her on decided that wasn’t what he wanted. No wonder she made such a poor decision.

He didn't know what to do. He wanted to help, but not like that. He wanted to make her feel better, but he was still hurt. He wanted to forget all this shit ever happened and comfort her like he used to when she and Elsa had bad days, when she’d stay the night and he’d make her popcorn and they’d watch a movie and she’d fall asleep against his shoulder and…

“Sven?” Kristoff smiled when his dog looked up at him as he continued trotting happily along the sidewalk. “What would you do?”

Well, Kristoff could clearly hear the dumb voice he’d always been doing for Sven in his head. I’d make sure she was okay.

“You would, huh?”

She’s probably really upset.

“So am I.”

But you don’t have to face a life changing decision right now.

He nodded and smiled awkwardly at the stranger who walked by, listening to him converse with his dog. With a quick roll of his eyes, he tugged on the leash to get Sven to stop walking before moving to an unoccupied bench. Sven laid his head in Kristoff’s lap and looked up at him with sad eyes.

Anna cares about you. And trusts you. Maybe it was the wrong decision, but she wanted it to be you.

“But she almost tricked me into thinking my life was going to be changing, too.”

She’s Anna. She wouldn’t have gone through with it. She would have come clean before it went too far.

“How do you know?”

You know it, too.

Kristoff felt some tension easing from his shoulders as he scratched the mutt’s ear. Sven was right, after all.

He fondly remembered the time after they had first met, and she was just twelve, watching him and Elsa play video games. He was kind of annoyed by her and her incessant questions about it but he tried his best to just ignore her. She just wanted to play, but Elsa kept telling her no, and he stayed quiet.

They had run to get a snack, and when they came back they found Anna whistling innocently on the couch, and a bright red Game Over screen flashing on the TV.

“Anna!” Elsa had shouted, groaning in frustration. “What did you do?!”

Anna threw her hands down and scowled, insisting that she hadn’t touched anything. Their frustration was quickly turning into anger, and Kristoff had done his best to calm the situation.

“Hey, we probably… just didn’t pause it right. It’s fine. We weren’t too far in.”

Elsa had let out another frustrated groan before leaving and slamming the bathroom door, and Kristoff knew just to give her some time to calm down. With a sigh, he turned to the television and reset the game, doing his best to ignore Anna sitting behind him.

“... I’m sorry,” she mumbled, tapping his shoulder.

“Huh?” He turned to look at her, and saw her blue eyes filled with tears.

“Elsa just doesn’t let me play with her because I’m not very good… and I just really wanted to try it… I’m sorry I didn’t know what to do.”

She was sorry she didn’t know what to do.

That was just the first of many years of Anna apologizing for every little thing that went wrong. Once she spilled water on him and apologized like she had killed his parents. Another time, she ate the last piece of cheesecake, not knowing he was saving it for later, and bought him three full sized cakes to make up for it. Last year, during one of the rare times he actually spent any time around Hans, Anna had apologized for his behavior after Hans had gotten drunk enough to try and punch Kristoff in the mouth.

She owned up to everything, didn’t she? Even things that weren’t her fault. Even things she had no control over. Of course she wasn’t going to go through with it.

“Why are you always right?”

Sven just started panting, his tongue hanging out the side of his mouth and what looked like a smile stretching his lips.

——

Kristoff had been gone for almost two hours, and Anna couldn’t help but try to find any way to relieve all of her anxious energy. She had tidied up their mess from the night before, made his bed, hung up some clothes he had left in his clean pile, made some coffee, wiped down his empty fridge, and, most of all, just paced around in circles hoping he’d be back soon.

How could she have been so stupid? They say hindsight is twenty-twenty, but she was starting to feel like she had spent the last twenty-four hours completely blind. It was as if some sort of storm of Bad Decisions had swept her up and blown her every which way. No wonder Kristoff was so angry with her. She’d be pretty angry if she were him, too.

God, and all he asked her to do was leave, and she couldn’t even do that correctly.

With a sigh, and a pretty good idea that he was trying to stay out until she left, Anna started to gather up her belongings. She didn’t know if just taking his clothing home was the right move, but she really didn’t want to squeeze back into her dress. Worst case, she supposed, was she could wash his clothing and have Elsa bring it back to him, since she assumed he wanted nothing to do with her from this point onward.

She folded her dress, slipped on her heels knowing she only had to wear them for the short walk down to her car, and started looking for her purse and keys when she heard the latch of the door open right before she had a ninety pound dog jumping up at her. “Oh, whoa, okay, hi!” She laughed, trying to keep her balance as Sven’s front paws rested on her shoulders. “Good to see you, too.”

Kristoff walked in behind him, hanging up his leash and toeing off his shoes. When Anna laid eyes on him, she felt them filling with tears again. “Really good to see you.”

He didn’t speak, just continued putting his stuff away and ignoring Anna’s gaze.

“I…” Anna watched Kristoff’s shoulders tense, unable to stop her mouth from scrunching to one side in thought as she lowered Sven’s paws back to the floor. “I was just about to go…”

“Why?” He dropped his keys on the small table by his door and turned to face her. “You wanted to talk, right?” He could see her whole body shaking, whether it was relief or anxiety or something else, he couldn’t tell, but it was starting to make him feel bad. He wanted to ease the tension. “Those heels look good with the shorts. Real high fashion.”

Anna sniffled once before letting out a wet breath, definitely full of tears that hadn’t fallen yet. “Yeah,” she said, her voice barely above a whisper as a smile pulled at her lips. “I thought I could pitch it to a designer. Really… Blow them away.”

Both of them released small, breathy laughter, thankful that there was a tiny semblance of normal falling back between them. Anna took a step closer to him, stepping back out of her heels, waiting patiently for a sign that he was okay. “I’m … I’m so, so sorry, Kris.”

He took in a deep breath before releasing it with a loud groan. “I know, Anna. I know you are.”

“But I-“

“Don’t, all right? It’s…” He paused for a minute. He was going to say it was fine, but it absolutely was not. “It is what it is.”

Anna nodded and stood still, waiting.

Kristoff looked at her, eyes red and smudged with old makeup, hands straight at her sides, as if she was holding back from running up to him and throwing her arms around him, and the tension drained from his shoulders. “Come on. Let’s talk.”

Dropping down onto the couch, Kristoff waited patiently for her to sit beside him. A soft fondness crept over him as she picked up a pillow, sat down next to him with her legs crossed, turned to face him and held the pillow tightly between her arms. He knew she did this when she was trying to restrain herself and he almost felt bad. Almost. Okay, maybe a little bit.

“So…” He started, scratching at the back of his neck. “Explain?”

Anna took a deep breath in before releasing it slow and steady through round lips. “Okay…” Pressing her lips together, she turned her eyes downward and tapped her fingers together. “Thought I might be pregnant. Told Hans, in a way I thought was pretty cute, he got mad, told me I had to get rid of it or leave, so I left, because like, I’ve always wanted to be a mom, and then he called and called and called, but basically it all boiled down to him calling me dumb and childish and incapable and other things I don’t really want to think about.”

She paused to take a deep breath and Kristoff just nodded, knowing she had much more to say before it would be a conversation.

“So I went to the doctor and found out for sure and that was right before I came home yesterday, and I was just so, so scared of being alone because like, genuinely, maybe Hans is right, you know? Maybe I am just a dumb kid who can’t do anything right, like I’m probably going to just mess this kid up so much okay? So much. I mean, look at me, and I had two perfectly pleasant parents. What kid stands a chance with me as their mom and no one else?

“And then you were just… god, you’re so wonderful, Kristoff, has anyone ever told you that? You’re just so kind and caring and you always have been, you’ve always treated me so well, and I got to thinking like, hah, what if we were meant to be, but I just didn’t see it? And I know that’s dumb, that’s so stupid, I’m sorry, you’re like a brother to me -“

Kristoff felt a weird, sharp pain in his chest.

“- so like of course that wasn’t right, but I just thought, you’re the most amazing person I’ve ever, ever known, and I was thinking like, you would be the best dad, just the best, and if this was how well you treated me as just the annoying little sister of your best friend, right? Imagine how well you’d treat me if you ever like, loved me… so I just… I had this weird idealized fantasy in my head of us, doing that, and then, even if it was backwards, maybe you’d love me someday, and maybe we’d just have a family and …”

She wiped at her cheeks, adjusting her legs so her knees were under her chin, the pillow still trapped between her chest and her thighs.

“It was so, so stupid. I know. I know that. I even knew it when I was trying to do it. But the way you looked at me last night, I… I snapped back to reality.” Her eyes finally rose up to meet his. “I’m sorry, Kris. And I understand if…” she hiccupped before biting her lower lip. “I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me now. I really do.”

Nodding slowly, Kristoff felt his face contorted with a bit of confusion. “Okay…” he started, blowing out a long breath. “A lot to unpack there.”

Anna let out yet another hollow laugh. “Yeah… yeah.”

Kristoff turned on the couch, lifting up his leg to make it easier to face her. “Okay, listen.” He watched her nod and prop her chin on the pillow. “I… I’m pretty upset, okay? Like… I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad at anyone before.” Her face dropped, but he leaned forward to press his hand against her knee. “But… you mean a lot to me, and I know you, and I know you didn’t mean any harm.”

Well, he hoped she didn’t.

Her hand clasped over his, and his walls dropped just a fraction.

“So…” He looked up at her, hope and adoration radiating from her in waves, and did his best to tamp down his own frustration, thankful it was already starting to dissipate. “I’m here for you, whatever you need.”

#FPfic #feistypants writes #anna word vomited for 500 words lldjgsjdgnlakf #help #kristoff deserves anna owning up to her mistakes 2020 #thats tea and shade towards f2

62 notes · View notes

kbstories · 4 years

Text

Synthesis

syn·the·sis (n.) A higher truth gained from two contradicting ideas.

Every man has a breaking point - even Luffy. Good thing Usopp knows a thing or two about overcoming boundaries.

(Or: Sabo is in danger and Luffy is stressed)

Tags: Post-Wano, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Nakamaship, Canon Compliant (up until Chapter 977), Recovery, Usopp is MVP as always, Mentions of Ace

Spoiler warning up to Chapter 977. Anything beyond that is pure speculation.

***

There’s a poetic sort of justice to the fact that everyone knows and Luffy doesn’t, this time.

It’s fucked up, sure, a twist of fate so morbid only Robin would find joy in it, and even she looks vaguely sick. You see, repetition is a fantastic rhetorical device: There’s nothing more satisfying than a story coming full circle, when the intricate mosaic of setup and payoff results in much-needed catharsis. Simple and effective, any storyteller will tell you – and Usopp is damn good at telling stories. It’s the one thing he can be proud of, when everything else fails.

Usopp doesn’t feel particularly good about that – or anything really – right at this moment. Perhaps in future he will, by all the seas, he hopes he will because that means this too will pass, and they will emerge from it victorious, just another miracle by the miracle-working crew from the East Blue.

But right now, surrounded by the shaken faces of his crew mates, all he feels like doing is crawling back to bed and passing out until it’s all over. To run for the hills and never return.

Usopp can’t and Usopp won’t, however. Because it’s Luffy, and because he made that mistake once before and swore: never again, never, never–

The newspaper lies innocently between them, a few days old by the time it made it past Wano’s crumbling borders via a confused News Coo, a clearly-alarmed Bepo (he hadn’t even apologized for almost running over Brook in his haste to get to his captain, and looking back that should’ve been the first red flag) and Law bursting into the room the Strawhats have claimed for their recovery, covered head-to-toe in gauze and all warmth drained from his expression.

Usopp did not miss witnessing their ally that close to despair. It makes the bright smile Law shared with Luffy in their moment of victory seem like a distant dream, perhaps part of one of Usopp’s more ludicrous tales.

“They got him. They got Sabo.”

It’s like he dropped a live grenade in their hands, if grenades were made of words torn kicking and screaming from a nightmare they all share. Usopp wants to ask – They, who is they?! – and there’s always a ‘they’, the Marine or the World Government or CP0 or some other shadowy organization pulling the strings of corruption and misery. But it hardly matters because this… this is real, a realization that passes from Strawhat to Strawhat along with the black-and-white print staring at them from pages increasingly crumpled by nine sets of shaking hands:

Revolutionaries Defeated at Mariejois: No. 2 of the Revolutionary Army Successfully Captured!

And in their midst slumbers their captain, huddled in the softest blankets they could find and snoring away his injuries, and he doesn’t know.

The irony – horrible, grotesque, unfair, unfair – isn’t lost on Usopp. Two years ago, he would’ve killed to have this, to be there, to catch Luffy as he bled and screamed and burned at the pyres of his brother’s death. To save Luffy just as he saved every single soul in this room, Law included.

Please, is all Usopp can think of, begging to every deity he’s heard of and those he hasn’t, to anyone who will listen, let him rest. Luffy doesn’t deserve this, not again. Please, have mercy–

Zoro is the first to move and something in Usopp moves with him, a fledgeling sense of optimism fluttering pathetically in his chest. Because it’s Zoro and Zoro always leads them right when their captain is off saving the world or a country (or two). Yet all Zoro does is sit at Luffy’s bedside like a mountain shaken into rubble, a measured kind of collapse that hits Usopp square in the gut. He doesn’t know what the others are doing, doesn’t dare look away from their first mate, but someone is crying and someone else is murmuring comforting words, and that at least sounds like Sanji so the first must be Nami.

There’s only a handful of times Roronoa Zoro has yielded without mounting a counterattack right afterwards and none of them are memories Usopp wants to revisit. Not now, not ever.

“Who else knows?”, Zoro asks, the steel in his voice worn down to a dull edge at best, and Zoro’s hand settles on Luffy’s head so gently it brings tears to Usopp’s eyes, too. Luffy mumbles in his sleep and smiles, nuzzling further into the covers with the clumsy comfort of a napping dog.

Law, too, is staring blankly at that gesture before blinking, focusing anew. He’s so tense a muscle visibly twitches in his jaw with the heavy swallow working its way down his throat.

“Bepo, me. Now you. Kidd is suspicious but he won’t leave Killer’s side, not yet anyways.”

The mere mention of Killer serves as an additional sucker punch on top of the veritable tsunami crashing over them, on the mend as he may be. That could have easily been Zoro, or Bepo, and the haunted glint in Law’s eyes says he’s thinking of it, too.

Zoro nods, absently. “And how long till we can set sail?”

For the briefest of moments, Law looks like he’s going to protest. The Trafalgar Law they met a few months ago would have, grim and annoyed, and the one from just last week would too, exasperated and loud–

Since then, they have beaten one of the Four Emperors and sent another one packing with her tail between her legs, and that feeling of having your dreams within reach if you only try hard enough, if you truly believe in it and your friends and yourself, it forges a bond like little else does. Hope is a dangerous thing – it can heal as much as it can wound, and Luffy has taught them all, one by one, how to endure both sides of that coin.

This pirate alliance of theirs has long stopped meaning what Law had wanted it to, and instead turned into what Luffy promised all along: Something permanent, something unbreakable, that all-or-nothing sensation of trust that is as much a freefall as it is flying.

So Law just… sighs. He rubs at eyes deeply smudged with missed hours of sleep and close calls all around, and Usopp can see his shoulders bend under the weight of being a captain.

“I… I don’t know. But I’ll find out. I don’t need to remind you all that this– It’s not like Kaido. Our chances against Kaido were slim to none but they were there. That report, it’s already outdated. The world has been shifting with us being none the wiser, and it could be that Luffy’s brother is already…”

It’s like Law can’t bring himself to say it, as if even speaking the possibility into existence will make them lose something they can’t get back. His gaze flickers to Jinbei, briefly, then to Luffy, and sympathy deepens the lines on his face.

“I’ll find out”, Law repeats, firmly. “Just… be there when Luffy wakes up. Then we’ll decide.”

And though many things may have changed, two years and countless battles later, this remains the same, always, always. Being at Luffy’s side is a privilege and a duty no Strawhat will ever turn their back on.

Blinking the blurriness from his vision, Usopp looks at the bandages wrapped around Luffy’s chest with loving care and the deep purple of bruises peeking out underneath, and he clenches his trembling hands to fists and hopes. As long as there is a sliver of sky above them and the wisp of a current below, they will follow their captain to the end of the world and beyond.

Come whatever may. Because this time, they are here and they're not letting go.

Luffy starts craving food the next morning.

It startles Usopp, the hand that knocks against his head and snaps him out of his doze by his captain’s side. He stares at the questing fingers for a few uncomprehending seconds. Usually he’d laugh, spirits lifted by the prospect of Luffy waking up sooner rather than later so they can celebrate properly.

There is nothing usual about this. Usopp reaches behind himself to the solid weight slumped against his back, shifting fitfully.

Sanji comes to with a tense breath. “It’s just me”, Usopp mumbles and doesn’t ask if his friend is alright. None of them are. Instead he says, “He’s looking for you��, and watches Sanji’s eyes soften somewhere between relief and heartbreak behind the strands of his fringe, weirdly unkempt.

“Mh, thanks”, Sanji replies in a raspy whisper; he gets up and leaves, side-stepping the jumbled puzzle of limbs that are the Strawhat Pirates. Only once he’s out the door does he reach for the pack of cigarettes in his pocket.

Sighing, Usopp rubs his eyes until they ache in an effort to wake up. Fuck, it’s like he hasn’t slept for a year and it’s been barely twenty-four hours. Beside him, Luffy’s hand inches its way towards Nami – sleeping close enough to brush knees with Usopp, head pillowed on crossed arms – and Usopp reaches out, takes it gently.

Luffy’s palm is warm against his, slightly damp from the fever he ran the first few days of recovery. His knuckles are a busted, swollen mess even now, and Usopp is careful. It wriggles impatiently, this hand that knocked a literal dragon out of the sky, and then it settles in Usopp’s grasp and Luffy sighs in his sleep.

Usopp can’t help but smile a little. “Food is coming, captain”, he tells him quietly. “Be patient with us, okay?”

Back to waiting it is. Not for the first time, Usopp plops his chin on the edge of the bed and just… looks. With his straw hat set aside (and safely tucked against Jinbei’s chest where he finally found a semblance of sleep, napping against the wall on the other side of Luffy’s bed), Luffy is sporting a truly impressive case of bedhead, the rest of him lost in a helpless tangle of blankets he tried to kick off during the night. He actually looks his age, Usopp’s age, like this – just some nineteen-year-old punk among many and not the one-of-a-kind captain of a crew famous the world over. It’s a rare chance to soak up this side of Luffy, the expression on his face relaxed and peaceful and lacking the chaotic energy that’s so infectious even eternally-grumpy Law had to give up fighting it off.

A selfish part of Usopp wants Luffy to remain that way, safe in the afterglow of a war well-won and unburdened by the cruelty of reality. It’s the same part of him that remembers the loving smile Sabo directed at Luffy, sleeping soundly in someone else’s bed just like this, and asks, why? Why didn’t you stay put? Why are you risking everything when your little brother is right here–

It’s selfish because stopping someone from doing what they truly want is the exact opposite of what Luffy is all about. Because the thing Sabo yearns for is freedom, and as long as the Celestial Dragons rule over their paradise built on the backs of countless slaves, no one is well and truly free.

If there’s a fight worth dying for, it’s that one. And yet–

“He’s going to be okay, you know?”

Usopp jumps a little, his neck protesting painfully as he whips his head around. Nami snickers at the wince on Usopp’s face before she sighs, the brown of her eyes bright with emotion.

“This sucks but… Luffy is strong. He’ll know what to do. Traffy is with us, we have a fleet to back us up, we’ll call in every favor we’re owed, and then we’ll show those fuckers hell for taking what’s ours. Sabo will be fine. I’ll kill him myself if he isn’t.”

She huffs, then, having talked herself into that righteous kind of fury that’s uniquely Nami even if she keeps her voice down for Luffy’s sake. Usopp finds himself chuckling.

“Say, what’s our going rate for personal rescue missions against impossible odds again?”

“A lot.” The grin on Nami’s grin is knife-sharp. “The Revolutionaries will be in a world of debt just for making Luffy worry.”

“Good”, Usopp says, and grins back just as fiercely.

They let Luffy eat his fill, for one because his healing factor is largely based on burning through incredible amounts of calories in no time at all, and also because Sanji looks like he needs to see it.

As much as their cook has his gripes about the bottomless pit that is Luffy’s stomach: Only when his captain is back on solid foods and on track to regain the weight he lost while unconscious does Sanji allow himself to relax. For Usopp, this means making sure his own plate is damn near licked clean by the time Sanji lets out a quiet breath and shuffles to the open window to smoke. The rest of the Strawhats eat, too, a low hum of conversation taking some of the tension out of the room they’ve barely left since Kaido.

The only exception is Zoro, and Usopp can’t help the glances he gives the door every few minutes, as if he’d magically reappear just like that.

The negotiations have been going on for ages now. As far as Usopp gathered, the Heart Pirates are heading intel and logistics, while Momonosuke assured them whatever resources Wano Country can spare – after taking care of their people, Zoro had added with a huff when he’d checked in on Luffy around dawn.

That’s not the problem, then. Eustass Kidd is, and after all that happened around the Kidd Pirates and pirate alliances, Usopp isn’t exactly surprised the guy refuses to compromise when it comes to his crew. Killer is awake now, though, and judging by the explosive arguments raging on outside, Kidd is not happy with his partner’s input on the matter.

The all-too-familiar sound of three swords being drawn is loud in the ensuing hush, and every scrap of metal in the room vibrates from the near-oppressive wave of magnetism sweeping through it.

“Oh? Who’s fighting?”

“Zoro and Kidd”, answers Usopp automatically, sighing. “Again.”

“Ah, okay. Not seriously though, right? We promised them a party after all. Like, a big one.”

“Kinda? It’s hard to tell honestl–”

Usopp blinks and turns to see Luffy awake and tilting his head at him. His hands are yet to stop shoving food in his face and Usopp stares with his mouth agape.

“Y-you’re awake!”

“Yeah!”, Luffy says with enthusiasm, and not a second later does he lift his plate away from the ball of fur charging at him with the force of a bull. Calmly, Sanji grabs the food and sets it aside for later.

“Luffy!”

Chopper’s tearful wail is followed by a breathy oof from Luffy as the reindeer clings to his bandaged chest in a flurry of hooves. Luffy chuckles, “Hey Chopper”, sounding pleased as punch that the doctor is walking all over him. Then he meets the half-circle of relieved looks around him, his smile only getting wider and wider.

“Hey everyone! I slept in again, huh?”

“Hey yourself”, Sanji murmurs around a smoke-filled smile. He leans out the window and calls, “Mosshead! Crew meeting!”, and the clanging of swords on metal immediately stops.

The Strawhats coalesce from all corners of the room, crowding around their captain whilst leaving enough space for the impromptu check-up Chopper is conducting. This, at least, is familiar. Frazzled as they are, Usopp’s nerves are soothed by Luffy’s easy-going compliance with Chopper’s orders to make a fist, breathe deeply, cough, does this hurt? and if the doctor’s hooves are marginally less steady than usual, well, it’s only to be expected. There’s a line forming between Luffy’s eyebrows though, and Usopp knows none of them are ready to answer the questions forming behind that pensive look–

It’s in that moment that Jinbei steps up, eyes a little solemn even if the smile on his lips isn’t. “Glad to see you awake, captain”, he says, and offers Luffy his hand, palm-up. Cradled with infinite care between webbed fingers, Luffy’s beloved hat looks small and unassuming; met with immediate delight by its owner, it might as well be a crown made of gold and the finest jewels far and wide.

“My hat! Thank y– Jinbei!”

The name rings with joy the same way it did during battle, and while Jinbei regards Luffy with some measure of perplexity as he’s drawn into a rubbery hug along with the hat, Usopp exchanges fond looks with some of the crew. Dire news be damned, it’s still a little unreal to have their tenth crew member finally with them, like, permanently.

They couldn’t have found a better helmsman in any of the seas, that’s for sure.

“It’s so cool you’re back! We gotta celebrate! Oi Sanji–”

“Not so fast, Luffy. We gotta talk.”

Those gruff words cut through the smiles and laughter like they’re made of washi paper; finally Zoro is there, skin glistening with sweat and droplets of blood pooling around fresh scrapes, and the unhappy slope of his mouth is an important reminder that fate doesn’t care about reunions and banquets of epic proportions.

The change in Luffy is instantaneous, eyes snapping to Zoro’s. His attention shifts like the wind, a physical force in this limited space. Almost absently, he places his hat where it belongs, a captain once more.

“Zoro? What’s wrong?”

No one answers, the silence lasting a mere heartbeat and an eternity all at once. This is it, Usopp thinks, the moment balancing on the precipice before a future as murky and uncertain as the ocean’s deepest trenches. He closes his eyes.

“What happened? Tell me.”

It’s said with authority, a weight similar to Haki but kinder, reassuring rather than suffocating – and resolve takes shape in Usopp’s chest, an urge to keep his head high and watch it all unfold with courage in his heart.

It has a similar effect on Zoro and it’s only then, with his shoulders squared and gaze steady, that Usopp realizes how miserable he had looked without Luffy by his side. Guilt creeps on Usopp, acidic in his veins. (Later. He can feel shitty about all of this later.)

“It’s Sabo. Things… are not looking good.”

Zoro produces the paper – a different one, newer, and Usopp feels his heart clench – from the sleeve of his yukata and hands it over, pre-folded to the relevant page. All Usopp can see from his angle is Sabo’s smile, determination apparent even upside-down. It’s a re-print of his wanted poster.

Next to him, Robin draws in a trembling breath and Usopp reaches out for her hand, interlacing his fingers with hers to stop them from shaking.

“Sabo?”

It’s with clear surprise that Luffy utters his brother’s name, and Usopp watches helplessly as Luffy’s pupils flit left to right, reading, skipping over dense paragraphs and coming up to the picture at the top over and over–

Then he looks up, and Luffy’s eyes are wide with worry and confusion so earnest it hurts Usopp to the core. “I… What? But he was there, at Dressrosa. And he was fine…? I don’t understand. Is this a joke?”

Zoro’s eye narrows, something wounded there and gone like a shadow. “It’s not. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t understand”, Luffy repeats, insistent now, and he turns to Robin because that’s what Luffy does when something doesn’t make sense to him. “Robin?”

Robin’s hand squeezes Usopp’s, near-painful. All Usopp can do is squeeze back.

“The revolutionaries, they… There were plans to rebel against the World Nobles. The people in bubbles on Sabaody, remember?” Robin’s voice evens out and yet, her lashes are wet with unshed tears.

“It looks like they failed. We don’t know more than that – the Marine has kept the papers scrubbed clean, as always – but it seems your brother was in charge of the mission. They’re sending him to Impel Down, Luffy. That’s what it means.”

Impel Down.

Usopp can see the exact moment those two words sink in: all blood drains from sun-kissed skin, leaving Luffy’s face close to pallid in contrast to the mottled bruises underneath; Luffy’s mouth opens but no sound arises, no word of protest, no nothing, and Usopp would honestly prefer to see him scream to the heavens or burst into tears than this, this petrified sort of shock that doesn’t belong anywhere near Luffy. Then–

“We’re ready, captain.”

That’s Zoro again, and there’s a hard edge to his tone that Usopp recognizes as sorrow only because it mirrors his own.

“Law has a plan, we’re fully stocked, the fleet is one snail call away. Killer wants to help so Kidd will come too. It’ll take a week to get there, tops. Just say the word and we’ll–”

“No.”

It’s nothing more than a whisper and yet, they all hear it. And even if they didn’t, Luffy repeats it once, twice, gaining in volume.

“No, no. We’re staying here. Sabo–”

Luffy’s voice cracks, and Usopp’s heart breaks clean in two, and Luffy pushes on, panting like he’s running a hundred miles in a hurricane.

“Sabo has his friends, and my dad. He’ll be fine, okay? He’ll come back. Sabo always comes back. So we don’t need to worry.”

That’s how it works: If Luffy believes in something, his crew does, too. It’s how they’ve always worked, how they’ve pulled off miracle after miracle and will continue to do so until they have sailed the entirety of the Grand Line and their captain is made King.

Something burns in Luffy’s eyes now and it’s not… that. It’s desperate, hunted, wrong. A lie said like a truth, and Usopp would know.

It occurs to him, in a distant part of his mind, that this is the first time he’s seen his captain truly afraid.

And it’s that what kicks Usopp’s brain into overdrive, because on this crew of reckless monsters he’s the one tasked with a healthy sense of fear, to manage the doubts everyone else doesn’t have because those are important, sometimes.

Because true bravery is a road made of boundaries and the means to overcome them, again and again and again – as many times as it takes to reach the end.

“Luffy”, Usopp says, and his voice doesn’t shake. He doesn’t let it. “We got this. We can save your brother. You have to trust us.”

In many ways, this is Usopp’s personal nightmare come true. He sees Luffy clench his trembling hands to fists, and his eyes narrow, and the vulnerability there bends into anger in an instant and it’s all so familiar.

“It’s not about that. It’s my decision to make, and I’ve decided. We’re not going.”

But this time, Usopp breathes. He forces himself to pause, just a moment, just so he can think and not lose himself to the panicked rush of blood to his head.

“We’re not gonna die, Luffy. We went through hell before and we came out alright, didn’t we? So we have to go. Please let us go.”

Suddenly Nami moves, kneeling next to the bed. She places a hand on Luffy’s wrist, gentle over the tense line of muscle there. “Luffy. Usopp’s right. Sabo’s your brother. He’s family.”

“I know that. I know–”

Luffy pulls away from her, from all of them, hides his face in his hands and pushes his fingers into his eyes hard enough that the bones in his hand show, thin and fragile-looking. One by one, tears start dripping down his palms and to the covers below.

“You guys don’t understand”, he says, his voice a hoarse, quivering mess. “You think you’ve seen hell but you haven’t, ‘cause Impel Down is hell and if we go there– There’s no way we’re getting out. Not a-all of us.”

It’s so quiet Usopp can’t even hear anyone else breathing but Luffy, every inhale hitched and barely realized before rushing back out. It’s like he can’t but speak, the horrors he’s seen and never talked about strangling him from the inside.

“Back then I wasn’t thinking ‘cause it was A-Ace, and he was trapped in there and not free, and just the thought of him dying like that made me sick. I only survived ‘cause I had a ton of help and ‘cause a bunch of people died instead of me.”

Luffy stops, and breathes, and rubs his arm across his face until the tears are gone. Usopp doesn’t mention he’s probably ruining the careful work Chopper put into binding that arm. Chopper himself is too busy crying his eyes out against Franky’s shoulder to really notice.

“I’m not risking it”, Luffy says then, eyes dull and red-rimmed. “Mariejois – that’s at Sabaody, right? Marineford and G-1 are around there, too. It’s gonna be a huge mess, again, and I…”

I can’t do it, not again.

It goes unsaid, in the end; perhaps, despite everything, Luffy isn’t actually capable of expressing something so devoid of hope, so close to giving up. That’s… more than nothing, it’s enough to hold on to, and that’s exactly what Usopp does.

“Then we won’t go to Impel Down. And we won’t go to Marineford, or G-1, or wherever those assholes are gonna make a show out of– That. Okay, Luffy? We won’t go to any of those places.”

“But… then how…?”

Usopp searches for Zoro, his gaze bridging the few feet between them that feel endless and Zoro blinks and gives him that devil-may-care smirk of his. To Zoro’s credit, it almost looks right.

“We’re pirates”, says Usopp with enough conviction for both Luffy and himself. For all of them, really, for one brilliant moment.

“We’re going to catch them at sea, because we have the best navigator and the fastest ship and the most skilled helmsman. We’re going to fuck them up because we have the strongest swordsman and a musician who can cut through souls and a freaking cyborg with laser beams and Nico Robin. And we’re going to be fine, because Sanji’s food raised you from the dead just this morning and Chopper can heal any wound and because our captain always leads us right. And even if they manage to account for all of that…”

Usopp grins with far too much teeth.

“We just have to get in range. I’ll shoot those bastards from so far away they won’t even see it coming, and if anyone even thinks of laying a hand on your brother I’ll shoot those off too.”

Luffy just stares at him like he’s seeing him for the first time, eyes swimming in tears. Then he laughs, an awkward, hiccupping kind of laughter that’s raw relief more than anything else. “That’s right”, he gasps, a hand rubbing at his chest where the starburst scar is currently hidden from sight.

“You’re right! We’ll save Sabo, and everyone will be okay, and then we’ll throw the biggest party ever. Right?”

“Right”, Usopp says, “and don’t you dare forget it”, voice wobbling all over the place now that his captain is smiling again, and he hears a fond sigh from Sanji to his left and a melodic chuckle from Robin to his right and Nami looks at him with so much pride Usopp doesn’t know what to do with himself.

It’s Jinbei he settles on, who gives his captain a soft look before he meets Usopp’s eyes half-way and nods, his smile full of admiration. For him. Usopp, son of Yasopp, from Syrup Village, East Blue.

None of his storybooks taught Usopp what to do after the heroic speech is over and the day is saved. And perhaps there is no trick to it, no how-to guide to achieve that dream of his – perhaps, for now, it’s enough to let himself be dragged into a rubber-limbed hug that threatens to crush his ribs, and share the laugh that found its home in his captain once more.

If that’s the case, then Usopp thinks he’s doing alright on the hero front after all.

#one piece #fanfiction #monkey d. luffy #usopp #roronoa zoro #one piece spoilers #one piece fanfiction #oda's got me so tense about the wano arc and what comes after omg #(also sorry if the read more doesn't work RIP)#let's see if tumblr actually throws this in the tags this time #not linking AO3 for the same reason but this fic is also on AO3!!#my stuff

28 notes · View notes