#not blatantly hateful or anything but in just a couple of chapters there have been dozens of women = p*ssy and men = c*ck references | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

cocogum · 4 months

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Each passing day I'm more and more convinced of the fact that Aurora is unworthy of the Sadida throne, not only because she's an Osamodas who refuses to have the one (1) person she actually needs around (Amalia), but because it's blatantly obvious she never cared about her husband's people and, more glaringly, his family.

And the biggest evidence I have of that, besides her scornful treatment of Amalia, is the Sheran Sharms' tomb-trees.

Season 4 opened up with what seemed to be Armand bidding his father goodbye and then returning to the palace with Aurora, instead of, you know, his wife being there with him as he mourned his father like in any good marriage.

At first I attributed that to the possibility that the tomb-trees were meant to be a sacred place only the royal family had access to, but the webtoon has swiftly debunked that theory.

Because upon returning in chapter three she announced she and her father (an even bigger outsider than she is) would be waiting by Armand's tomb-tree while Amalia got her things in order. Likewise, in chapter 5, Yugo was there beside Amalia as she spent time with her late family and reflected on what to do, supporting her.

And while it could be argued Aurora simply didn't want to intrude upon her husband's grief, it should also be pointed out the second Yugo learned Amalia lost her father his first instinct was to go and be there for her, only being stopped by his mother pointing out Amalia would most likely prefer to be alone. Whereas, as I mentioned before, married couples are expected to be there for each other when one of them loses a loved one.

(Which already reflects how Yumalia is the superior royal couple, but I digress).

This all comes to show Aurora never cared about her in-laws and, therefore, even if she came to care for Armand and vice versa, what they had was never true love, they just grew fond of each other with time. And, quite frankly, someone with so little regard for the people and family she's supposed to serve just doesn't deserve to be queen, period.

Hey geekgirles ✨

Let me just say that I 100% agree with you on the fact that Aurora DOES NOT deserve the kingdom for all the reasons you stated.

What’s funny is that before The Great Wave chapter 6 was released, I believed that there was one thing that was acceptable about her.

And I now hate that idea for even thinking about it.

And that was her view on the sadidas.

Yeah, I’m not going to stand here and tell you that she actually absolutely cares for them or secretly wants to be with them rather than in her father’s kingdom. No way in hell.

She fled like a coward from the necrome war that would have completely annihilated the entire Sadida race so her level of care for the sadidas is extremely low. Lower than a bottom feeder.

Despite this, and the very accurate facts that you enumerated, I used to think that she strangely had some kind of…endearment towards her late husband’s people?

(I genuinely don’t know if I’m making any sense saying this)

What I mean by that is that she might have felt some type of pride or emotional pull to them. She never ruled anything before, much less been married to another royal. So seeing all these people praise and call for Armand, a man who she genuinely loved, made her feel pure joy at the idea of being with them.

When she and Armand walked up to the balcony to talk to the people, we can see Aurora smiling while Armand looks much less happy (due to his father’s passing).

She has a hand behind his back, supporting him through this moment.

When they walk up to the balcony, the people rejoice in their new king and we can see Aurora’s smile getting bigger at the praises. She was even going to shed a tear!

As much as I loathe this woman, I cannot ignore the fact that she does care about Armand, and due to that, loves the attention he is receiving from his people.

So to make it short, I used to think she loved the sadidas on her own accord but it turns out she used to appreciate them because she loves Armand.

That’s how I would describe her relationship with the sadidas.

Everything that relates her to them is because of Armand. That’s it.

And she keeps on loving him even after his death in the worst ways.

(spoilers for chapter 6 under the cut)

She was angry at seeing a sadida and an eliatrope get married because Armand hated eliatropes.

Aurora: “My Armand would have never permitted this!”

Aurora: “He hated the eliatropes!”

She was saying how Armand would have never accepted the eliatropes so therefore she hates the idea of them being here as well.

Aurora: “This little pest doesn’t waste any time!”

Aurora: “In only a few months, she had given some funny ideas to my subjects…”

She was referring to the sadidas as “my subjects” because she still believes she has the right to call them like that, reminiscing about the time she used to be with Armand. If she wasn’t reminiscing, then she would’ve called them “my children’s subjects” or simply “the sadidas”.

Aurora is the embodiment of a trophy wife.

She had been promised to get married to Armand.

She hates and likes what Armand hates and likes.

She doesn’t do anything besides being by Armand’s side and holding his hand every now and then.

She doesn’t speak in any political situation and just sits next to Armand most of the time.

She doesn’t fight alongside Armand and simply stands in the back waiting.

She doesn’t have a throne seat of her own. She sits in the only small space available to her in Armand’s seat.

Her only excuse for getting the throne back is her pregnancy.

She listens to her father most of the time.

She listens to her husband most of the time.

Her only accomplishment was getting married.

This pretentious blue cow has nothing special or charming about her.

The only skill she has is literally looking petty.

So yeah, based on what I gathered, it doesn’t even matter if Aurora did like the sadidas because she’s not even suited to be their ruler. I think Armand was just horny so he accepted the arranged marriage (if he couldn’t get Eva then he might as well pick another blonde lol)

But with the things she has said, I believe Aurora only likes the sadidas by default because she likes Armand. That’s it. If Armand never existed, she wouldn’t have even glanced at the Sadida Kingdom, let alone think about these people for a millisecond.

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jordisblogg · 10 months

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instead.

shuri.u x black reader

warnings: fluff, little angst, alcohol, weed, cheating?

a/n: lemme know if y’all want a part two!!

wct: 3.2k

chapter 1

as you walked inside, the strong aroma of weed not a unfamiliar smell in her home, the dark purple ambiance of shuri’s luxury apartment glared off of your skin, contrasting with your melanin. as you got closer to her kitchen, you could hear the soft sound of ekykah badu playing low in the background. you took a seat at her island, resting your head in your hands.

shuri knew the routine by now, making her way to her wine cabinet, grabbing the most expensive one and two wine glasses. after pouring herself a decent amount, she took yours and started with the same quantity. you looked up from the counter and then up at her.

she smirked and continued to pour, “that bad, huh?” she teased, and you couldn’t even blame her. this has happened a couple times before, not that shuri minded taking care of you, she just. . . wished it was for a different reason.

you sighed and began to chug down the red drink, attempting to drown your frustration in alcohol, sometimes it worked, sometimes it didn’t. this was one of those times it didn’t.

you placed the glass down with a clink, wiping your lip with your thumb before you finally spoke, “m’ sorry..” you let out breathlessly. the wakandan only chuckled and shook her head.

“it’s fine, entle. here, c’mon” she began walking to her living room, you trailing behind her like a small puppy.

“where’s your friend..” you asked as you made yourself at home on her couch, watching shuri’s slouched figure attentively as she lighted her pre-rolled blunt, sparking it, once, twice—

“riri? gone, she went to a convention for one of her projects. so it’s just me here for right now” you nodded, you had always wondered if shuri or riri ever engaged in anything while being more than friends. she brought the joint to her lips, inhaling the intoxicating air and holding it in. “you don’t have to talk about what happened if you don’t want to. you should know by now that i’m not going to force you” she broke the short silence, finally exhaling and passing the joint your way.

you have a small smile, taking the drug from her fingers and copying her same action. “it’s not that.. it’s just.. i don’t know. i feel like i’m overreacting about the whole situation.”

shuri didn’t speak, letting you get all your thoughts out into the air. you had this habit of keeping of all your thoughts in when in came to quinton, because to you, it never felt like he was ever really listening. shuri didn’t like that. so she promised to be your outlet, the one who could always talk to, and ever since then you’ve taken advantage of that opportunity to actually be heard for once. after a while of you and shuri starting with the small stuff, you never even tried to go to anyone else, not that you wanted to. shuri was perfect.

she was patient with you, attentive, caring, almost like she wanted to hear about your problems. each time you and shuri had one of your ‘talking sessions’ shuri felt her anger grow more and more at your sad excuse of a boyfriend. how could he treat someone so sweet and kind so horribly?

she couldn’t put all the fault on him though, well she could but— you were kind of responsible too. you were smart enough to see all the signs and red flags he was waving blatantly in your face. but damn your full and generous heart, you couldn’t help but still be loyal to him, no matter how much you fussed.

shuri hated that. you were too kind for your own good. he had no right to the heart that should’ve been hers. she could treat you so much better and she knows it. she just wish you did.

“shuri!”

the queen blinked, coming out of her thoughts. she hadn’t realized she had zoned out.

“shit.. i’m sorry y/n! i zoned out..” she apologized, rubbing at her temples. you gave her a sincere look and gently took the last bit of the dead blunt from her inked fingers. “what’s wrong, princess?”

normally, shuri would always correct people who incorrectly used her title, but hearing the name come from your lips. . she let it slide.

she turned to look at you, your big brown eyes staring back at her. she sighed and shook her head. bast what the hell was she doing?

“this isn’t supposed to be about me y/-“

“i know,” you cut her off, “but i want it to be. you’re always looking after me, i just. . wanna return the favor.”

the royal took her eyes off you and stared up at the ceiling. how was she supposed to tell her best friend that she had had a crush on her for over 3 years. how was she going to tell you that she had bottled her feelings up for so long because she didn’t want to lose you, so she let you slip from her fingers and into the hands of someone who doesn’t even know how to take care of you properly.

you rested your cheek on your arm that sat at the top of the sofa letting your eyes linger on her chiseled face for a little longer than you should’ve, “you look like you have a secret, something you wanna say but you just can’t for some reason” you smile, sort of in a joke, but shuri didn’t know you were playing around.

“shuri, you can tell me, you know you can tell me anything..”

she looked back at you, only loved filled in those deep dark eyes. she returned your declaration with a small smile, eye cutting down to the floor. you could see her smile fade and her head turned the other way.

“ri?” you asked softly

you watched her curly lashes come together as she blinked, rather slowly.

“i can’t..” she whispered

“you can’t what?”

“it won’t be the same.. i can’t lose you..”

“shuri, whats going on?”

“i can’t y/n!” she yells, the sudden change knocking you back a bit. she gets up from the couch and begins to pace.

“i can’t! i can’t tell you how long i’ve watched you be in a relationship with him, how long i’ve watched you be treated like shit, knowing i could treat you better! i can’t tell you how long i’ve been in love with you!” your jaw fell slack at her words. she had loved you? she’s in love with you?

your mouth opened and shut, trying so hard to let something—anything come out.

“shuri..” you choked

“i know, i know! i’m wrong for feeling this way but i can’t help it. i’m tired of being the one you always come to when that fuck says or does something hurtful to you,” she rubs her hands down her face. “i’m tired of being that friend y/n! i’m tired of being your friend. i don’t want to be your friend..”

“i wanted to be more than that. i still do. . but i know you don’t like me that way. that’s why i kept quiet, i forced myself to not say shit to you because i didn’t want to ruin our friendship.”

you only stared at her, tears threatening to swell in your eyes.

“i just. . i couldn’t hold it in any longer, i’m sorry.”

your silence scared her. why the hell did she tell you that?! now you’re never going to want to see her again! she was already accepting defeat.

“i don’t know. . what to say” your voice cracked from the tears. you couldn’t believed she was containing this in for so long. you can’t say that you never felt something for the queen. but to you, she never showed any real interest in you in that sort of way.

“you don’t have to,” shuri replies, quickly wiping the single tear that fell down her cheek, “your face clothed and towel are in the bathroom, i’ll be in the room.” was the last thing she said before she walked out of the living room and into her bedroom, shutting the door behind her.

instead.

there was so much you wanted to say to shuri, so much to let off your chest. how much you wanted to tell her how sorry you were for putting her through what you did, how long you’ve waited for her to say those words. how. . you loved her too.

you had feelings for shuri in the beginning, but it never seemed like she reciprocated them, you both went that entire time without ever putting out your feelings because of freight. maybe you should’ve said something. . maybe this all would’ve been different.

even though you had begun a relationship with quinton, you still wanted to have shuri around, that was still your best friend, no matter how much you loved her. but you never realized how much it hurt her to see you and him together. maybe it were those fake smiles she’d pull when you would have to cancel on your plans because he ‘needed you’, or how riri would tell you that shuri had decided not to go to a party you begged her to go to. when you would ask her why she wasn’t going she would tell you ‘oh, i wasn’t feeling well!’ or ‘had an errand to run’ or ‘just felt like staying home.’ but the real reason was because she knew he was going and she couldn’t bare to see you with him. she didn’t have the heart to tell you that though.

jesus, were you that oblivious?

you couldn’t deny that you hadn’t had a thought or two about you and shuri being together during your relationship with quinton. imagining how nice her arms would feel around you, having the chance to feel the warmth of her kisses, being able to play with her soft hair, getting to hear her laugh over and over, being the reason that she smiled, god that smile. .

you walked into shuri’s bedroom nice and fresh from the bathroom, only to find that she wasn’t there. you wouldn’t be surprised if she didn’t want to talk to you. you stuffed your clothes in a split section of your bag then walked over to the bed, flopping onto the mattress. you let out a long sigh before the feeling of being alone irked you. you sat up and began to look for shuri, though that search didn’t last long.

you heard movement from her balcony and turned to that direction, seeing her sitting in a chair, staring into down at city. you walked to the doorway, trying your best to be quiet.

“i can hear you, y’know” she said, not bothering to look behind her. you gave up and made your way to sit beside her.

“are you okay?”

“are you okay?” you retorted, adding emphasis on ‘you’. you looked over at her just in time to see a smirk appear and disappear on her face. “it doesn’t matter”

“yes it does, shuri, don’t say that.”

she glanced at you, then back at the city, the building lighting reflecting off her perfect skin, highlighting her features, something you had always appreciated before. the tattoo the trailed down her neck, her diamond cut jawline, her high cheekbones. she had let her curls grow out a little, almost into a small fro since the last time you saw her.

you’ve always thought shuri was beautiful, but now, knowing how she feels about you, your admiration intensified.

“i do too.” you broke the silence

“do what?”

“. . love you”

shuri looked at you skeptically, “alright, y/n” she scoffed, turning her head away from you again.

“i’m being serious, shuri,” you grab her chin, forcing her to face you, “i. love. you.”

her eyes saddened as she stared at you, “then why didn’t you say anything. .” her voice cracked as she spoke

“you were the most honest, sweetest, reliable friend i ever had. i didn’t want to lose you either.” you finally let go of her face, hoping she’d still look at you. when you saw that you had her full undivided attention, you continued. “i love you shuri, and i’ve always wondered what it would be like to spend my life with you. i just didn’t know you felt the same.”

“i wanted you to be happy.”

“but i’m happier with you. .” you placed your hand on her cheek caressed the skin with your thumb.

“baby if you had told me all of this sooner, i would’ve chose you over q,” you could the slightest glint in her eyes and she knew you were telling the truth.

“you’ve always been there for me, and i’ve taken advantage of you all these years, at least let me make it up for this. .”

you both slowly drew closer to each other, lips just almost brushing each other before shuri pulled back.

“what about quinton?”

“after what he’s put me through, i couldn’t give two shits about how he feels.” you rested your hand on the back of shuri’s neck, and pushed her forward to close the gap.

you both moaned, the action of being deprived of this feel for so long had so many emotions coming out that neither of you could suppress.

shuri had always imagined how your lips would feel, soft and innocent, warm and honey-filled. it felt so refreshing.

you began to wrap your arms around her neck and she moved you to straddle her lap, holding you by your hips.

“i’m sorry for making you wait this long, princess, lemme’ make it up to you, please” you begged through her kisses, letting your hand slide under her tank top and your fresh set scratch along her abs.

instead.

“baby, that tickles!” your giggles erupted throughout the bathroom as shuri kissed along your neck.

after your little 'session', shuri decided it was best for you both to take a bath, which you didn't disagree on. so now here you both were soaking in the corner tub of her bathroom, bubbles filling in the leftover space you and her haven't taken up.

"mm mm," she replied as she continued her kisses behind your ear, occasionally nibbling on the lobe. "i've waited too long to have you in my arms entle, at least let me kiss you"

"yeah, i do owe you that, don't i?" she smiled against your skin as you place your hand on the side of her face.

after you two got out and dried yourselves, shuri led you to the bed, insisting that she puts your lotion on you after you attempted to do it yourself.

you were now laid on your back while shuri lathered her hands in your lotion. she began at your legs. she made her way up from your ankles to your calves to your thick thighs. you couldn't help but blush at the act.

she then moved her way up to your soft stomach. she would occasionally leave small kisses against you as she did so. she smiled at the giggle that came from your lips, watching your pretty teeth make their appearance.

“you’re beautiful y/n.” she stated simply. a dark hue formed against your skin and she planted a kiss on your nose.

once she was done she helped you put on your pajamas and you were both now laying in the bed, cuddling against each other as close as you could.

as you laid your head against her chest, listened to the faint sound of her heartbeat all you could think was: this was all you wanted; somebody to love you, take care of you, hold you. shuri gave you that, she always has, you just hadn’t realized it because you were so busy caught up in your own junk. and that made you feel guilty.

you sighed and nuzzled your face deeper in her, “i wish i would’ve told you how i felt sooner. that way we both wouldn’t have felt so miserable all these years.”

“me too..”

“all this time i’ve been wasting these years with him, when i could’ve been with you.”

shuri sat both of you up, where you were straddling her lap while she laid back against the headboard. "i know, my love, i've hated it too. but now i finally have you, and i promise i'm never going to let you go. i'm going to do all the things that he never did."

her declaration brought tears to your eyes. you smiled pecked her on the lips three times, holding her face in your hands. once you both pulled away you nuzzled your face in the crook of her neck and she wrapped her arms around you.

"i meant it when i said 'i love you' y/n" you heard her say before she kissed the top of your head.

". . i love you too shuri." she said.

instead.

after packing your things back and kissing shuri goodbye you drove back to yours and quinton's apartment. as soon as you walked through the door, you were bombarded with questions.

"baby? where you been? never mind—look i'm sorry, i just—" he stumbled on his words

"it's fine." your words took him aback. it was never that easy for you to forgive him. normally it took a lot of pleading and convincing.

"uh.. really?"

"yeah, i'm cool. and you were right, i shouldn't have overreacted."

quinton watched you in confusion as you walked past him and into your bedroom, beginning to change into something more comfortable.

"so. . you sure you're not mad?" he asks again, your sudden nice behavior scaring him.

"yeah? i'm fine, swear." you tell him once again. after hearing nothing coming from him after that you turned around, seeing he was still staring at you, "what?"

"nothin', i'm just. . surprised is all."

"why's that?"

"well i mean normally you'd stay mad at me for at least a week.." he started

"i know, and that was wrong of me."

he didn't say anything and turned around to go into the living room, leaving you in the bedroom. once you heard him turn the tv on, knowing he was distracted, you reached for your phone to call shuri.

as you tried your best to have your conversation quietly, quinton tried his best to listen to you from the other side of the door. the only words he could make out were 'date', 'baby', and 'i love you'.

who the hell were you talking to?

"okay, bye" he heard you giggle from the other side and quickly crept his way back to the couch.

he smiled at you nonchalantly, as if he wasn't just trying to be a fly on the wall—door.

you plopped down on the couch next to him, "whatchu' watching?" you asked, laying your head on his shoulder.

". . just the saint and falcons game.. i know you don't watch football so you dont—"

"no, it's fine!" you smiled.

"uh—ight.."

what happened while to you while you were gone?

#shuri udaku #shuri x reader #shuri x y/n #mcu shuri #shuri x black! fem! reader #bpwf #shuri fic #shuri #letitia wright #reader js want some love :(❤️

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catelyngrant · 7 years

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#i started ali adl*r’s book ‘how to f*ck a woman’ the other night #and was excited bc i’ve had it for ages but haven’t really been reading much besides fic #anyway i started it expecting it to be awesome since i pretty much give her all the showrunning credit for s*perg*rl as it once was #(and tbf she probably deserves it because the show went to shit when she left/was forced out)#but YIKES this book is bad y’all #i just mads it through a few chapters before giving up #it’s weirdly heteronormative considering that ali’s gay?#like i was excited to read a ‘how to’ style book by a queer woman that i assumed would be meant for everyone who likes sleeping with women #but nope it’s all about dudes #and omg it is SO transphobic #not blatantly hateful or anything but in just a couple of chapters there have been dozens of women = p*ssy and men = c*ck references #like literally referring to women as just vaginas and men as just penises #i’m not gonna keep reading but i was just genuinely wondering if anyone else has read this or heard similar things?#or if anyone who’s read the whole thing might have more insight?#it’s a bummer ngl

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goldenlaurelleaveswrites · 2 years

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Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe ch 11

Juleka vs. the Forces of the People of Paris ii

I am so sorry for the wait everyone!!! It ended up being way longer than I had anticipated! When I posted chapter 10, most of this chapter was written. But than I ended up hating a lot of it 😅 And then life threw some major curve balls at me that delayed me rewriting what needed to be rewritten (namely, 90% of this chapter 😂) I really appreciate all of your love and support and your patience while I dragged myself through the end of May and June. I really hope you all enjoy this! 💖💖💖

Juleka vs. the Forces of the Universe (AO3)

_____________________________________________________

She had been enjoying her day. Luka and Marinette were having a study ‘get together,' as Marinette had called it when she asked Luka. And while it wasn't lost on her that Marinette had avoided the word 'date.' But she honestly wasn't complaining. She would take whatever victories she could and Marinette asking Luka to hang out was a victory in her book. Especially after their enlightening consversation...

If they were going to be idiots... well, at least they were being idiots while spending time with each other. And they were hanging out on the Liberty, which meant her mom would be there to run interference if Alya showed up.

And she and Rose had a much-needed date planned. With all the time she had been devoting to the headache that was her idiot brother and friend, she was more than ready to have a day with Rose.

And it was a beautiful day. A perfect day, really. Especially with Rose holding her hand as they strolled down the streets.

Or at least, it had been perfect.

Until Andre and his ice cream had decided to crash the party.

“Cherry with dark chocolate chunks and black licorice. Eat this, and you’ll find love as true as that of Ladybug and Chat Noir!”

Cherry and black licorice? Together?

Did Andre even have tastebuds?

And love as true as Ladybug and Chat Noir? It was official; everyone in Paris was either blind or an idiot.

And if that charlatan of a matchmaker was going to shill out sinister soulmate sweets... Well then, she was just going to have to pull the plug on his proverbial cooler.

***

The question was, how was she supposed to put a stop to Andre’s nonsense?

She glared at the ad that was playing on the tv. It was bad enough that he seemed to pop up on every street corner, but now she had to listen to him in her own home?

And it wasn’t even a good commercial!

And of course, Adrien was in it too.

And he seemed to be loving it. But of course, he would.

The ad was for the atrocious Ladybug and Chat Noir-themed ice cream that was now blatantly being touted as the official ice cream of the superhero duo. And she had a feeling Ladybug hadn’t been consulted on that.

Or the commercial.

It didn’t actually feature anyone in a Ladybug costume. But given the actress's dark hair and the way she and Adrien—how could he have thought playing 'Chat Noir' in a commercial was a good idea?—were playing a couple in love... It was obvious the director had been going for the whole ‘love in and out of the mask’ thing. Despite Ladybug’s constant protests that she didn’t feel that way for Chat Noir.

And seriously, what was with people? Ladybug had said countless times, including on live tv, that she didn’t love Chat Noir romantically. And yet… everyone just ignored her. They ignored the person responsible for saving the city on what nowadays felt like a near-daily basis.

Instead, they chose to listen to Chat Noir! Chat Noir, who was constantly proclaiming his love for Ladybug from literal rooftops. And often at the worst possible time too. He was the one people chose to listen to when it came to anything about the so-called relationship.

Why?

She shook her head to try and clear her thoughts. Fixating on that right now wouldn’t solve anything. She needed to figure out a way to stop Andre. And hopefully, get this stupid ad off the air as soon as possible.

***

It was on. Again.

Had Andre taken marketing advice from Gabriel Agreste?

Because it felt like the only two commercials on tv these days were the ones for the Agreste brand and for the Ladynoir ice cream. Well, those and the promotions for the upcoming Ladybug and Chat Noir special of Side-by-Side.

She snuck a glance at Marinette out of the corner of her eye. Luka had invited her over to hang out, and the two of them had ended up in the living room to watch one of those cheesy made-for-tv movies they both loved. She was reading her book. Or at least pretending to. She had stuck around once the two settled in. Just in case the Universe decided to try anything.

And not only had it tried… it was succeeding.

It had managed to shove not only Adrien but also Chat Noir down Marinette’s throat.

Marinette, for her part, was glaring at the tv as the actress portraying ‘civilian Ladybug’ giggled before accepting a spoon of the ice cream from Adrien. Luka's face was screwed up in digust, and she was sure she heard him mumble something that sounded like, 'how do you ruin ice cream?’

And she could feel her eye twitching.

This was hardly the first time a company had used Ladybug in their marketing, but it was certainly the most overt. At least, when it came to her supposed relationship with Chat Noir. And there was no way Marinette- Ladybug would have given…

***

There was no way Andre had gotten permission to use Ladybug’s likeness.

And she would bet her favourite lace gloves that Andre wasn’t giving Ladybug a cut of the profits he was making off of her image.

And she was sure that was less than legal.

***

She hefted the books onto the desk she had claimed in the university library with a groan. She would have gone to the public library near the Liberty, but she didn’t want to run the risk of running into anyone she knew. Or having to explain why she was researching intellectual property laws. And she couldn’t exactly research this stuff on the Liberty. Not when Luka was hanging around.

He probably would think it was a good idea.

But she couldn’t risk him connecting any dots.

With a sigh, she settled herself into the little cubby desk and opened the first book to the index. She already had found most of what she needed online. But she wanted to find some similar cases to use to back up her points.

And she still had to find the proper formatting to write the letter.

It was going to be a long day…

***

She ran down the hallway, frantically searching for a place to hide.

Why did there have to be an akuma at this library?

She couldn’t let herself be seen by Ladybug or Chat Noir- otherwise, that would raise too many questions. After all, in their minds, why would she have any reason to be in the Law Library at the university?

She cringed as another roar, followed by screams split the air. She hadn’t actually seen the akuma. But it sounded nasty.

She darted around a corner and almost stopped to sigh in relief. There, like a shining beacon, was an open broom closet. The custodian must have forgotten to close it in the chaos. With another backward glance over her shoulder to make sure the coast was clear, she ducked inside, closing the door firmly shut behind her.

***

“And stop calling us a couple!”

She flinched back further into the depths of the broom closet she had ducked into, fumbling with her phone in the darkness of her sanctuary. Ladybug sounded mad. And given what she had just said…

“C’mon m’lady. You’re the only one that doesn’t see it.”

“See what exactly?”

“That you and I are made for each other! It’s our destiny to be together.” Ew. “You and I were chosen-“

“To protect Paris, not to be-“

“And you can’t forget Dark Cupid! Or Oblivio.” She couldn’t see what was happening outside the closet door, but she imagined Ladybug was probably redder than her suit. “I mean, we kissed-“

“I don’t remember Oblivio. Or what led to that kiss!” Ladybug’s voice had dropped to a seething hiss, but it was still perfectly audible. They had to be right outside the closet. “And neither do you.”

“But-“

“And I only kissed you during the fight with Dark Cupid because you were under his control, and I was desperate. Chat- I… you know I’m in love with someone else. I need you to st- shhh!” There was a beat of deafening silence. She didn’t dare breathe. Had Ladybug caught on that she was right there? “I think the akuma’s coming. Come on, we need to get to the roof.”

The patter of soft footsteps receded, followed shorting by the stomping of what had to be the akuma. Thankfully, Hawkmoth’s latest victim didn’t bother to stop and check to see if anyone was hiding in the broom closet.

But that didn’t stop her from holding her breath until it had moved away, and she was left in another heavy silence.

When she was sure it was gone, she heaved a sigh of relief and pressed the button on her phone’s screen to stop the recording.

***

She smiled proudly down at the letter she had typed up on the computer she was using. There was no way Andre would be able to continue with the Ladybug and Chat Noir ice cream nonsense after receiving this letter. Not in his right mind anyway. And not with a legal leg to stand on- not that he had had one in the first place...

She shook her head and turned her attention back to the task at hand. She narrowed her eyes as she proofread it for the umpteenth time. Looking for any grammar issues or typos. But it was perfect.

Was it a fake? Technically… yes. But were its contents accurate?

Also yes.

And even if she were to be caught… well, she was only informing Andre of the law and his legal responsibilities. Surely officer Rodger couldn’t fault her for that?

And it was for Marinette. And that made the risk worth it.

The next step was getting it to him without placing suspicion on herself…

***

It seemed the Universe was adamantly against her delivering her cease and desist letter to Andre. Every avenue she had tried so far had turned up either a dead end or been made impossible by what was increasingly feeling like contrived circumstances.

She had tried mailing it.

There had been a postal labour strike.

She had inquired about getting it delivered by courier.

That would leave a trail directly back to her.

She was beginning to think the best option would be to fold it into a paper airplane and aim for Andre’s head… but somehow, she doubted that would work.

And the longer the letter remained hidden at the bottom of her bag, the antsier she was. Because the longer it sat there, the more likely it was that someone would see it. And then her plan would be shot.

But… she was her mother’s daughter. And… she was petty.

So come hell or high water, or whatever else the Universe decided it wanted to throw at her, well... She was a Couffaine.

And Couffaine’s always found a way.

***

As it would so happen, the Universe —or rather, Hawkmoth—decided to throw an akuma at Marinette. Well, Ladybug technically.

And the akuma just so happened to be that toddler that kept getting akumatized into a giant. Gigantitan or whatever it was called. It couldn’t actually talk. So no one really ever seemed entirely sure what to call it.

But right now, that baby akuma was her saving grace.

Because it had apparently wanted ice cream.

And it had found Andre.

Who had run off screaming before being whisked away by Ladybug. Leaving his cart empty and abandoned.

Was it stupid to run out into the open with an akuma of the loose? Especially one as big and clumsy as this one?

Yes.

But this was her only chance. There was no one around- everyone else had had the sense to seek shelter away from the ice cream cart.

And even if there were people around, all she had to do was pretend to be hiding while she slipped the red and black envelop into his cart.

And hope he would actually cease and desist.

***

Somehow, Alya was still grinning like the cat that had caught the canary. Which, she supposed, Alya had. In a way…

The Ladybug and Chat Noir special episode of Side-by-Side had been derailed at the last second. In more ways than one.

Andre, who was supposed to be a guest on the hero special—probably to talk about their love for one another and plug his ice cream—had dropped out at the last second due to ‘unforeseen reasons,’ according to Nadja.

And it seemed Hawkmoth had taken advantage of the interview to akumatize someone. And Ladybug and Chat Noir had left before the opening credits even began. And honestly, she felt a little bad Marinette had to deal with another akuma. But in some ways, it was better to go up against an akuma than Nadja and Alya…

Especially given the opening credits had touted the episode as a ‘Soulmates in Action’ special. Something she very much doubted Ladybug had been informed of beforehand.

But with the heroes off doing their jobs and the ‘special guest’ the promos for the episode had been touting gone—due to what she could only assume was the letter, given the commercials for his ice cream had suddenly disappeared off air—Alya and Nadja had had to improvise.

And they had decided to rehash all of the pictured of Ladybug and Chat Noir that Nadja had already taken out of context. Along with all the new ones Alya had managed to get for the Ladyblog.

So far, they had shown her photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir kissing after—during?—the Oblivio incident no less than five times. Not even counting the times it had been used in the opening.

“…just incredible!” Nadja was saying as she and Alya were turned to look at the screen behind them, which was currently displaying said photo. Blown up to the size of a movie theatre screen. “And to get it from so close up! Just marvellous!” Alya was preening, the praise puffing her up and putting a grin on her face.

“It was amazing seeing them like that! So in love with each other, they really are made for each other,” Alya said smugly.

Nadja smiled as she turned back to face the camera. “Well, folks, now we turn it over to you! At the beginning of the episode, we asked you to send in your best photos and videos of Ladybug and Chat Noir. Let’s take a look and see what you all have for us!”

The first picture was a rather benign if blurry photo of Ladybug and Chat Noir running across a rooftop. But Alya and Nadja still found plenty in it to pick apart, bringing up any little detail that pointed to the two heroes being in love.

It was incredible, the heights they could jump to to land on those conclusions.

The next few photos were much the same. A little blurry. Pretty inoffensive- though it was weird to think that people were just taking pictures of the heroes going about their business. There were a few videos too. Mostly of akuma battles or the moments immediately after battles.

She watched with bated breath, hoping that by some miracle, her video had made it through.

The call had been for ‘best Ladybug and Chat Noir moments.’

She thought hers was the best.

For revealing the truth, at any rate.

But she didn’t know what kind of screening the submissions were going through. And she had not been optimistic about them airing a video like hers.

So she had made a video montage of different Ladybug and Chat Noir pictures she had pulled from the Ladyblog—with credit of course—and tacked it onto the beginning of her recording. Hopefully, if they were screening submissions—although given the quality of some of them, that seemed unlikely— they wouldn’t watch the whole thing. She had even made an email called ‘ladynoir4evr’ to send it from so as not to arouse suspicion!

Nadja and Alya went through a few more pictures and videos, talking about the dynamics and body language in each one. And, somehow, they seemed to agree that every photo and video was proof of the heroes’ love for one another. Even though it was pretty plain to see in some of them that that was not the case.

The end of the episode was drawing near, and her video still hadn’t been shown. She was about to shut the tv off and mope her defeat over a bowl of chocolate ice cream when Nadja grinned.

“And Alya, it looks like our next submission comes from a fan of not just Ladybug and Chat Noir, but of the Ladyblog as well! Let’s take a look!”

It was happening! Her video had made it through!

She watched as Alya and Nadja turned in their seats to look at the screen behind them.

The photos she had pulled from the Ladyblog played on screen, along with a cheesy love song she had pulled from the internet. At first glance, it would appear like any fan-made presentation on why Ladybug and Chat Noir ‘belonged together.’

“…so sweet,” Nadja was saying when the screen turned black and the music cut off.

The sound of her recorded breathing crackled through the speakers.

“What’s happening-“

“See what exactly?” Ladybug’s voice was clear as day.

“That you and I are made for each other! It’s our destiny to be together. You and I were chosen-“

“To protect Paris, not to be-“

“And you can’t forget Dark Cupid! Or Oblivio. I mean, we kissed-“

“I don’t remember Oblivio. Or what led to that kiss!” the recording of Ladybug hissed. “And neither do you.”

“But-“

“And I only kissed you during the fight with Dark Cupid because you were under his control, and I was desperate."

Nadja was frantically gesturing for the video to be cut while Alya seethed at the screen behind her.

"Chat- I… you know I’m in love with someone else. I need you to st- shhh!”

Abruptly, the tv cut to a commercial.

But it was too late. The- not really damage, but it had been done. The video—the important bits anyway— had played.

For all of Paris to see.

Hopefully, Paris would listen.

***

She had just been getting ready to go to bed when a notification for the Ladyblog popped up on her phone. Her stomach sank as soon as she saw it.

She clicked on the notification.

And a lead weight settled in the pit of her stomach when she saw Alya was live-streaming.

“Hey, guys! I know a lot of you were confused by the… incident on tonight’s episode of Side-by-Side. Trust me, none of us were expecting that!” Alya laughed, though it seemed forced. And- yes. Her eye was twitching. “But rest assured, there’s a perfectly reasonable explanation for that video.”

Oh. She was just dying to hear how Alya was going to spin this one.

“We all know that Ladybug and Chat Noir quarrel from time to time- every couple does. And she likes to be a professional, and we all know Hawkmoth is a big threat. So obviously, she doesn’t want a public relationship with Chat Noir. And especially not a public lover’s tiffs…”

Ok…

“And they must have known someone was hiding nearby to film them! Chat does have those cat ears of his!”

Yeah. But were they even functional?

And she sincerely doubted either of them had known she was in the closet- they had been a little preoccupied. Ladybug with the akuma. Chat with flirting.

“So they wanted to keep suspicion off of them!”

Even if that was the truth, why would Alya and Nadja have devoted an entire episode to unveiling their love? If they were really secretly dating, wouldn’t Alya try to keep it a secret to protect her beloved heroes? And if it was a lover’s tiff, why would Ladybug say she was in love with someone else?

Alya’s story had more holes than her gran's crochet blankets.

"So don't worry, everyone! It was just a clever plan on their part!”

Comments were popping up with lightning speed under the live-stream video. The vast majority were agreeing with Alya and spewing variations of ‘Ladynoir was life.’

But a few, she noted with satisfaction, were poking holes in the stories and theories. And it was time she joined their ranks.

Quickly, she checked to make sure she was logged out of her email so that any comments she made couldn’t be traced back to her.

And then she set to work.

***

Her teeth were beginning to ache from the way she was clenching her jaw. But what else was she supposed to do? It wasn’t like she could march up to the akuma and tell it to knock it off.

Or Chat Noir, for that matter.

All she could do was hide. And silently apologize to Marinette. Because maybe… just maybe she was a teeny tiny itty bitty bit to blame for this akuma…

Apparently, it was some disgruntled viewer who had watched last night’s episode of Side-by-Side and hadn’t been too happy with the video she had submitted anonymously. And even less happy about her poking holes in Alya's story during the Ladyblog live stream. Based on what the akuma had been saying, it seemed they were one of the people who had been leaving all those comments on the Ladyblog all night about how Chat Noir and Ladybug were ‘meant to be.’

All the comments she had spent the night disproving.

Yeah… maybe this one was at least a little bit her fault… but seriously! It wasn’t her fault that people got so up in arms about Ladybug’s business to the point that they ignored what Ladybug herself had to say on the matter!

And she hadn’t been mean! She had just pointed to the facts!

“You two are destined to be!” Shipper screamed as he shot another glittery, pink cannon ball covered in hearts at Ladybug. And Shipper? That was the best Hawkmoth could do?

“Y'know, m’lady, he has a point,” Chat said from where he was perched in the branches of a tree. “You’re the only one who doesn’t see it,” he sighed wistfully.

“Chat! Focus!” Ladybug snapped as she rolled out of the way of another incoming cannonball, clutching the black and red roll of tape to her chest as she went.

She watched from her hiding place in the bushes as Ladybug continued to battle Shipper while Chat Noir continued to banter about how he and Ladybug were ‘meant to be’ and ‘destined for one another’ and how she would ‘come around eventually’ as he went between lounging and dodging stray cannonballs.

Sharp pain flared through her palms. When she looked down, there were little red crescents imprinted into her palms from where her nails had dug into the skin.

He wasn’t even helping! He was just agreeing with the akuma! And a quick glance around at the other civilians watching the battle from the bushes with her, and scattered across other hiding places in the park, told her that most of them didn’t seem to see a problem with it.

Some of them were nodding in agreement!

What was wrong with people?

Thankfully, Ladybug managed to wrap the battle up fairly quickly. Which was impressive given Chat was no help whatsoever.

Glittering ladybugs washed over the park, spreading out to the rest of the city where they would repair any damage that was done. But she couldn’t help but roll her eyes.

Chat was still flirting. Even as Ladybug tried to comfort the akuma victim. Who seemed more interested in what Chat was saying and how Ladybug was reacting to it. Or rather, wasn’t. It seemed Ladybug had given up and was just trying to ignore him.

After exchanging a few words, the akuma victim walked off.

And Chat Noir managed to get Ladybug’s attention again.

She couldn’t hear what the two heroes were saying, but it looked like Chat was flirting. Again. Around her, people were slipping out of their hiding places, watching the exchange intently. Some even had their phones out and were filming and taking pictures.

Her jaw tensed as Chat caught Ladybug’s hand in his.

“They make a wonderful team. And a lovely pair. Do they not?”

She jumped at the sound of the voice and whirled, only to find an old man standing beside her. Her eyes narrowed. It was the same man she had met before… the one who had commented on Marinette and Adrien being ‘made for each other.’

What was he doing here? He hadn’t been there a minute ago- she was sure of it! And why was he so interested in Ladybug and Chat Noir and Marinette and Adrien?

He turned away from the pair of heroes to look up at her expectantly.

He wanted her opinion? Fine. She was going to give it to him.

“No.” She said bluntly. “They’re not a good couple. They're barely a team in my opinion.”

“Oh?” he raised an eyebrow.

“Didn’t you watch Side-by-Side last night?”

“I believe the saying goes, ‘do not believe everything you see on television,’” he replied lightly, with heavy thought in his eyes.

“Well, I’m inclined to believe what Ladybug says and… well, you saw what just happened! She keeps saying no, and he can’t take a hint! And he didn’t even help with the akuma! What kind of team is that?”

“Yes, I see…” the man said slowly, his voice heavy with thought as he watched Chat Noir try to plant a kiss on Ladybug’s hand. Ladybug snatched her hand away and swung away brusquely. He turned to her abruptly, his eyes flashing. “Thank you very much, miss.”

“What-“

“Please, excuse me. There is something very important I must see to, straight away.” Before she could say anything, the man had turned and strode away with surprising speed.

She watched as the man hurried off. Something about him bothered her. He was a little too interested in Marinette and Adrien and Ladybug and Chat Noir for her liking. At least for Ladybug and Chat Noir, the same could be said about everyone in Paris.

But his interest in Marinette and Adrien...

There was something more to it.

But she wasn’t sure what.

She glared at the retreating man’s back as he headed towards the exit to the park. Something about him… it felt like he knew too much for his interest to be just interest.

She moved to follow him when her phone vibrated in her pocket. By the time she had dug it out of her pocket, when she looked back up, the man was gone. Still frowning, she pulled up her messages. And her mood instantly darkened.

Alya 🦊?!: ADRIEN IS AT THE BOURGEOIS ANNIVERSARY PARTY

Mylène 🌼 : he is?

Alix 🛼 : so?

Alya 🦊?!: I just saw him

Mylène 🌼 : Wait! You’re there?

Alya 🦊?!: yeah

Alya 🦊?!: had to drop off stuff to mom

Alya 🦊?!: now I’m stuck here

Alya 🦊?!: and I missed the akuma battle 🤬

Alya 🦊?!: but dont u see???

Alya 🦊?!: this is the perfect opportunity!!!

Alya 🦊?!: surrounded by love at an anniversary party!!!! She’ll HAVE to confess!!!!

Rose 🌹💗: OOOOHHHHHH

Rose 🌹💗: ITLL BE SO ROMANTIC 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰

The Bourgeois’ anniversary party? Romantic? In what universe?

Alix 🛼 : sounds gross to me

Alix 🛼 : going to a party for Chloe’s parents?

Alix 🛼 : 🤢🤢🤢

Mylène 🌼 : I don’t know about this one Alya

Mylène 🌼 : how would marinette even get in?

Alix 🛼 : 🤮🤮🤮

Mylène 🌼 : don’t be gross Alix

Alya 🦊?!: her parents are catering

Alya 🦊?!: I saw them unloading stuff

Alya 🦊?!: and they need marinette to be there so she’ll have to go

Rose 🌹💗: why do her parents need her?

Rose 🌹💗: are they ok?

Alya 🦊?!: they forgot some stuff and need her to bring it from the bakery

Alya 🦊?!: IT IS LITERALLY PERFECT

Alya 🦊?!: except for the fact that ice queen is here too 😡🥶

Alix 🛼 : so if she’s there y r u telling us about it?

Alya 🦊?!: she isn’t here

Alya 🦊?!: she isn’t answering her phone

She had been a little busy fighting an akuma.

Alya 🦊?!: and we need to sneak in to run interference for when she does show up

Was it wrong that she wished the battle was still going so that Marinette wouldn’t be able to check her phone and end up getting dragged into what she was sure would be another Adrienette train wreck?

Rose 🌹💗: anything for true love!!!!

Rose 🌹💗: 💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

Alix 🛼 : i guess i’m in

Alix 🛼 : dont have anything better to do

Mylène 🌼 : ok, meet u there

Alya 🦊?!: meet me by the kitchen door I can get us all in that way

Alya 🦊?!: anyone seen J?

Rose 🌹💗: no

Rose 🌹💗: I can call her!! 😊

She cast one last uneasy glance in the direction the old man had disappeared. Something in her was screaming that what he had said was important. That something big was about to happen. But she didn’t know what, or what it would have to do with him.

But she didn’t like it.

But she also didn’t like where the girl squad was going.

Queen of Darkness 🦇: was doing laundry

Queen of Darkness 🦇: sorry

Queen of Darkness 🦇: on my way

48 notes · View notes

dreamescapeswriting · 4 years

Text

Unfinished Business ~ Part 4

WORD COUNT: 4.5K

WARNINGS: Mentions of mafia, strong language, murder, blood

PAIRING: Bang Chan X Reader

DESCRIPTION: Part four of nine of my new Bang Chan series.

You’re taken hostage but one of Seoul’s leading mafia families Bang Chan but he doesn’t take you because he wants to fake a marriage or make you fall for him in 365 days no…He wants to use you for his own personal gain. To take over another family but when you try to escape things take a turn for the worst and you learn Chan isn’t one to be messed with.(Please I suck at describing stuff)

THEMES: Smut will be included in a later chapter so this is a fic for a mature audience, Chan x Fem!Reader, Self insert

MASTERLIST | PREVIOUS | NEXT

The next morning you were walked down to the breakfast table as though you were some kind of prisoner, Seungmin apologised when he had to take you but you kept your mouth shut not wanting to breathe a word to anyone after last night. You hadn't slept at all, you couldn't get the images out of your head. It was hard to move something like that from your mind, she was like family to you and just like that she was gone. Sitting at the table was Chan, he was reading through something you didn't care about so you sat down where the empty plate was and it was soon being plated with food by Felix who gave you a sympathetic look. They all knew what had happened inside of that room and yet did nothing to help you stop it.

"How's your ankle?" Chan asked not lifting his eyes from the paper he was reading from, searching for any news on Namjoon or about what had happened with Mrs Lu - there was nothing there. He wanted to move his eyes from the paper though, he wanted to look at you and see that you were okay. He knew you wouldn't speak much after what he'd put you through the night before. He knew that it was harsh but it was what had to be done, even after a lengthy conversation with Felix about it, it was what was needed.

"Fine." You mumbled taking the cup of tea that had been poured for you by Jeongin and sipping on it ignoring the burning sensation on your tongue as the liquid hit it,

"Eat something," He said firmly, finally glancing at you from across the table, he could already tell you hadn't slept. Your hair was thrown up in a messy ponytail, you were wearing sweats and a baggy shirt not to mention you had bags under your eyes, Felix said he'd heard you crying when it was his shift so that explained your eyes looking so bloodshot and your nose being red.

"Is the bedroom not to your standards? I can have a new bed brought in if you'd sleep better on it?" You hated that his voice was laced with concern for you and your wellbeing when he'd been nothing but mean from the moment you came to him - or rather were kidnapped by him.

"It's fine. Couldn't sleep. Nightmares." Your voice was monotone as you stared at the plate in front of you not wanting to eat anything that had been placed in front of you.

"I'm not hungry. Can I leave the table?" It felt as though you were talking to your parents when you were younger,

"Not until you eat something. You didn't have anything last night." You looked at the food and took the apple from the fruit bowl in the middle of the table, biting into it while staring at Chan smugly who just sniggered at you.

"I'll give you it." He put the paper down and leant on the table with his hands as he stood up from under the table, dressed in his usual suit and tie.

"Han said you wanted to go out and pick paint. We'll make a day trip of it." You swallowed the chunk of apple you'd been chewing on out of surprise and stared at him, this was some kind of test it just had to be.

"You said I wasn't allowed out-"

"Unless accompanied, unless you're still planning on running..." He buttoned his suit jacket up looking at you with a raised eyebrow, it was now that you realised one of them had a slit in it but it wasn't shaved, it was a faint scar.

"No! No, I won't. I said I'll stay." You meant it, you meant everything you'd said. You weren't going to try escaping if it meant more people would die because of you. It wasn't worth it.

"Good. Jisung will bring you up a dress to change into. I'm still having a wardrobe picked out to match you perfectly." You nodded and slowly got up from the table, too scared to make some kind of wrong move around him. Then you began walking with Seungmin past Chan when his hand reached out to touch your wrist, you flinched and he froze. He stared at you for a couple of seconds forgetting everything he was going to say to you when he saw the way you flinched at his touch,

"I-" He forgot everything he'd wanted to say when he stared into your eyes, he could see the fear that you held in them. Your eyes danced from his eyes to his wrist and he let go not wanting to upset you anymore than he already had.

"Make sure she has some ice for her ankle, and bandage it up." He said to Seungmin but his eyes never left yours, you could have sworn that he looked concerned for you and he was. He felt terrible for your ankle, the moment he'd grabbed your ankle he wanted to punch himself in the gut. He knew how painful it could be to be chained up like that and he felt awful for doing it to you the moment it happened.

"Thanks," You whispered to him, quickly leaving him there going towards the staircase with Seungmin who then left you at the bottom of the staircase with Jisung who also felt terrible for what had happened. Except he was the only one showing it clearly, he'd never liked the killing aspect of their life, he never liked this life he only stuck around because of Chan and the boys. He began taking you up the stairs making sure to walk slowly enough so you wouldn't damage the ankle more.

"There's a first aid kit in the bathroom, wait here," Jisung said as he left to go into the en-suite within your room, you stared at the door where you could see him reaching through the cupboards above the sink. You felt bad for running out on him the night before but you had to try and get out. He'd been the only one to show you any kind of kindness except for Felix and Jeongin.

"Why does he do that?" The question came out without context when Jisung came back into the room with some scissors and a bandage, he patted the bed and you followed his orders sitting down lifting your foot to sit on his knee.

"Do what?" He began wrapping up your ankle in a blue bandage to keep the pressure on it and you hissed as he applied more and more pressure each time he wrapped the bandage around, it wasn't awful like Chan's the night before. It felt nice to have it there.

"He acts like he cares when he clearly doesn't after what he did to me." Jisung sighed looking at you from the corner of his eye, he thought you would have been smart enough to see through Chan's clear facade but he was wrong about that.

"I told you. We don't like to kill-" He tried to defend him again but you weren't going to let him.

"And yet he did," He gave you the side-eye he wanted to tell you the truth about everything, about last night and how things weren't always what they seemed to be but he continued to bandage your ankle up in silence deciding he valued his life.

"I have no explanation for anything Chan does, all I have is an excuse that isn't mine to give out. Just know that somewhere deep inside his head he's doing it because he cares." That was all he could say to you without going too into detail about everything that went on inside Chan's head, the original plan for you was changing day to day depending on Chan's mood and it was giving Jisung and the boys whiplash. Your mind was being torn to shreds. Cares? He didn't even know you?

"He cares for me? He doesn't know me-"

"He knows enough, we all do." The folder. You looked at the floor and tried to remember what was inside the folder, everything. Every single detail about your life no matter how big or small was in that folder, your parents, your grandparents, all of your jobs from the ages of 11 and up. If someone read it they could say they'd known you since birth, passed off as you if they wanted to commit identity fraud.

"But why?" you asked. Jisung scoffed and helped you stand back up on your feet, you could finally put pressure on your ankle without it sending shooting pains throughout your leg.

"You're going to ask me to explain his complex brain?" You knew it was a long shot when you asked so you nodded at him and he pointed at another floral dress sitting on the hanger on your wardrobe door deciding he wasn't going to talk about it any more than he had. He could get into trouble for what he'd already told you.

"He doesn't like to be kept waiting." He said simply as you nodded in understanding and he left the room for you to get changed, standing just outside the door so he could walk you downstairs when you were finished.

Walking around the mall with Chan was weird - mostly because you were hand in hand with him but also because people were staring the whole time. The hand holding was his idea, he knew it was one way he could get all eyes on both of you and that was what he needed. Eyes were on you wherever you went, you thought it was just because of who Chan was but he told you it was because he hadn't been seen with a female companion in a while.

"They're staring at me?" You whispered as you walked past another couple who both stared at you blatantly obviously, both of them mumbling to the other about you as you walked, the woman's hand covering her mouth as she obviously said something to her partner. You looked at the dress feeling insecure but Chan stopped once he realised where your mind was going,

"They don't like seeing powerful men with a woman at his side. You look fine. The dress is perfect." Before you could argue with him he pointed at the paint shop you'd requested to go to and you walked inside head hanging low as you tried not to think about people looking at you. His hand never left yours and when the man behind the counter began talking to you his grip tightened,

"Can I get classical white, runaway blue, and a set of your acrylic paints and paintbrushes please?" You said to him, trying not to stare at him as he stared at your hand with Chans you wanted to beg for him to save you but images of the night before raised back into your head, along with images of your grandfather.

"I have to take this," Chan said as his phone started to ring loudly in his top pocket he moved away from you and out of the shop, Felix stood in the door to make sure no one else could go in or out of the shop without him knowing about it.

"Would you like to see the paint being mixed?" The man asked with wide eyes trying to think of a way that he could talk to you in private he'd seen this before with Chan's type,

"I'd love to." Your voice came out shaky and uneasy so you followed him over to the paint shaker and he started it up it was loud enough to cover up the conversation he was going to have with you,

"Do you need help? We can get you out...Just say the word and I'll sneak you out of the back-" A hand was placed on your shoulder before it moved and a voice spoke out,

"That won't be necessary will it, baby girl?" Your whole body was on edge as you heard him call you baby girl again, his arm wrapped around your waist and you felt sick for the man's safety.

"No. I'm fine thank you." Your monotone was back and the man stared between you and Chan and you gave him a knowing look not to press for anything, maybe that had been the real reason everyone had been staring. They were trying to break you away from Chan and get you safe. It was no secret who Chan was; him and the boys were practically famous for what they did. You took Chan over to some canvas' and his hand tightened on your waist as he grew angrier, his pulse racing as he thought about someone taking you away from him. His pulse was beating so much you could feel it on your hip where his arm was resting.

"I'll kill him-" This time your pulse raced,

"He was just worried about someone's safety. Don't hurt him. I'm staying. I'm here. I'll stay," You promised with him and linked your hands together once more to show him that it was the truth, his pulse slowed back down and his expression softened as he locked eyes with you.

"I'm not going anywhere," You matched his soft expression and he looked at you wondering why you were being so nice to the man when you didn't know him but then he remembered the file. You'd always been nice to everyone, volunteering at the nursing home, at the hospital and regularly working for charities. Which reminded him of something he had to do soon and he wanted to ask you too.

"I have something to ask of you." He walked you over to some more paints and you nodded, you'd do anything if it meant no one else would die because of you.

"I regularly attend a charity event and would you like to go with me?" Charity? He...donated to charity your blood boiled at the thought of him only doing it to make up for the shit he did.

"What is that? Your sick kind of way of making up for all of the terrible things you do to people?" The words slipped out before you could even think about them and he looked mortified as you said that to him, it wasn't true at all. It couldn't have been further from the truth, the charity was something he held close to him that he'd been doing long before he came into this lifestyle. You could tell by the look on his face that you'd hurt him and you felt bad for a second, fearing that if you stepped out of line something could happen you tried to justify yourself.

"S-Sorry. I didn't think-"

"It's a charity I hold close to my heart. You will attend the function with me." It wasn't a question this time it was a statement, you were going and you had no choice in the matter. You nodded at him knowing the repercussions if you didn't say yes and he went back to looking at the paint like everything was normal.

Chan was off again on business, the moment you were done inside of the shop he told you he had to leave and you were sent home alone with Jisung, Hyunjin and Jeongin who were watching you closely as you walked around your bedroom as if they had nothing better to do with their time.

"Do you have any plastic covers, Chan didn't get some earlier." Jisung and Hyunjin exchanged looks as if they were having some kind of psychic conversation together.

"There's some in the office," Jeongin said nodding for you to follow him into the office across the hall so you did, walking behind him as he got into the room. You stood in the door and images came flooding back from what had happened the night before, the carpet was gone and replaced with laminate flooring as if nothing had happened. Jeongin followed your gaze as he realised what he'd done and where he'd brought you.

"Shit. Sorry, I forgot-" He was so used to this life he'd forgotten how it affected those who weren't used to this,

"It's fine," You lied looking down at your hands instead of the flooring. He began looking through drawers when you saw a bookshelf, sitting there in the centre shelf was a photograph of Chan and another woman.

"Who's this?" You asked, opening the glass doors to take a closer look at the image that was sitting there. Jeongin glanced up at you, panic rushing through him as you touched the photo. Chan hated it when people touched his stuff.

"Chan's wife. Shes- Shes not with us anymore." You ran your fingers over the photograph, she looked like you. She looked a lot like you, from the hair right down to the dress you were wearing. So that was what he was doing? He saw his wife in you and was trying to replace her with you? You put the photograph back down and Jeongin held up the covers he'd gotten from the bottom drawer. Maybe his ex-wife was the way out for you, maybe her being his weakness was your way out. Make him fall for you, make him weak and escape when he doesn’t see it coming?

"What are you painting?" He questioned as you walked out of the office. He locked the door and added the key into his pocket. Everyone had a key to the office by the looks of it.

"Sunflowers." You whispered as he walked you into the room, Jisung was alone now as he looked at the wall you were planning on painting on.

"Hyunjin is cooking us something to eat, Jeongin go and help him." The small boy left the room after dropping the covers onto your bed for you to sort out. You looked at Jisung from the corner of your eye as you poured paint out into the containers.

"You're being awfully calm for someone who'd spent the day with someone she hates," You ignored his comment, not wanting to raise any suspicion and took the roller dipping it into the sky blue paint.

"He was kinder...didn't hurt that man." He hummed at you, not believing it for even a second and stared as you starting to add a light blue to the wall.

"You didn't try to escape, that was the only reason he didn't do anything. Don't think he's going soft on you." You hummed this time, not believing him and he shook his head at you. All that filled your head was the photo of his wife and Chan together. His arms wrapped around her waist as he had a huge smile on his face, so big you could see dimples on the sides of his cheeks.

"How did he lose his wife?" You asked without moving your eyes from the wall it was an innocent enough question but you didn't want it to seem as though you were prying him for information because you weren't.

"Why?" You shook your head and looked over at him,

"I saw the photo. She looked young." He looked down at the floor. They weren't supposed to talk about her. They were supposed to keep their mouths shut. You weren’t even supposed to know that he’d had a wife so Jeongin had fucked up by letting you see the photograph.

"Is she the reason you're not allowed to listen to music?" He knew you were up to something the minute you asked that question and he cut everything short not having time for the bullshit.

"Whatever you're planning, get it out of your head now. Unless you want a repeat of Mrs Lu with your grandfather." You stared at him as he brought your grandfather up into the conversation,

"Do you think I'd plan anything after what I saw last night! She was like a mother to me and he ripped her away. I wouldn't disobey him again." It was only partially true, you were planning to get away but you were planning on making it easier on everyone else first.

Chan walked up the staircase to see Minho was asleep outside of your room, his head resting on a wall. He didn't blame him, it had been a long day at the offices. They were all tired and he was about to head to his own bed when he heard soft humming coming from your room, he was surprised you were still awake after not sleeping the night before. He pushed the door open silently to see you standing there with a paintbrush in your hand, you were sitting crossed-legged on a set of chest drawers sitting so close to the wall your nose could have some paint on it. He knew the tune you were humming but he couldn't place what it was, he watched as you added another brush stroke to the wall. He made his way inside until he was standing right behind you, you hadn't heard him thanks to your humming which had slowly turned into softly sung lyrics.

"Your favourite?" You fell backwards, your legs spralling out in front of you to try and catch yourself but Chan caught you quickly before you could hurt yourself. Your arms resting on his as you stared up at him and you realised you'd painted a bright yellow stripe down his suit jacket.

"Sorry, it'll come right out if you wash it right now." You struggled out of his arms and stripped off his jacket rushing into the en-suite where you panicked trying to wash the paint off his jacket. His hands rested on your arms to stop you moving so fast and for a split second, it felt nice to have him this close to you, a spark rushing up and down your body making you feel a little uneasy.

"It's fine. I can have it dry cleaned." He slipped it out from under the water and hung it over the shower since it was wet.

"You're scared of me?" You nodded at him and he tried not to sigh, it wasn't what he wanted at all he didn't want you to fear him this badly.

"They are." He frowned confused as you answered something else,

"My favourite, you asked. They are." You said pointing over at the sunflowers on the wall.

"You should be asleep, you haven't slept for almost 48 hours." You looked at the watch on his wrist to see that it was almost 3 am,

"I can't sleep....always struggled." You admitted to him and he nodded in understanding. He'd also struggled with his sleep for a long time which meant he had tips to help you.

"I struggle with sleep too." You ignored the need to make a quip about what he did for a living was probably keeping him up at night and he walked you over to the giant double bed pulling back the sheets for you.

"But you should sleep, we have an event later in the week and I need you to be well-rested for it." You got under the covers and stared at him as he tucked you into the bed and started humming to the song you'd been singing. So music wasn't something he hated completely. That was something that you could work with.

"Can I have a radio tomorrow? To work with while I paint?" He stared at you.

"I don't like music." He answered plainly not looking away from your eyes,

"Oh...Okay." He could tell how disappointed you were and he looked down at you. He hated seeing you look so disappointed about something, he never wanted to see that look again even if it meant doing something he didn't like.

"I'll see what I can do." He brushed the hair from your face and kissed your forehead. Softly sparks shot through your body and you stared at him trying not to give signs away that you felt them. You couldn't fall for him, not after what he did and who he was, he'd killed Mrs Lu, he ran drug cartels, money laundering, cold-blooded murder, gang wars and...Well, there were many rumours...Not everything had to be true did it? You wanted to question him on that now, find out what exactly was and wasn't true with him and his crew. Trying to get your head back into your plan, instead of what Chan did for a living, you questioned him on the music subject,

"Why don't you like music?" You shifted over in the bed so he could sit beside you, he stared at the space and you stared into his eyes.

"Tell me." You pleaded, placing your hand on his as he sat down on the space you'd left for him. He felt his heart warm up as you talked to him calmly and touched him because you wanted to, not because he was forcing you to.

"It's nothing, just something that used to be played a lot in the house and then there was no need for it." He took his hand away from you not wanting to get into this, it was too much for one night, he'd already told you too much. You were just supposed to be bait for Namjoon but he was starting to feel more for you, he got off the bed quickly and left the room slamming the door so hard that Minho jumped awake and stared at his boss rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"Something wrong?"

"She likes music."

"That would be nice...right?" Minho and Felix had really been the only ones to calm Chan down when he got bad like this when he got upset over his wife. They'd been there for him the longest and it was them he could trust the most. Chan hummed in answer of Minho’s question and walked into his bedroom, shutting and locking the door behind him. He walked over to the photo frames that lined his desk, all him and his wife together in the earlier days of the marriage.

"Every day I miss you a little more." But there was something else taking over his heart, he stared at the photos and he no longer felt hurt by them. It was more of a feeling of peace as he stared at his once happy wife, but he was starting to picture his life with you instead of with her. He took the frames and placed them into the bottom drawer of a desk inside his bedroom and began changing out of his suit. He hated that he snapped at you like that, but he didn't want you knowing his weaknesses, you'd use them against him just like everyone else did. Just like Namjoon did with her...but then again. The plan had been to lure Namjoon out of the shadows with you, use you as bait to get the confession from Namjoon but now he could use it to his advantage. Namjoon could scare you into staying with him and Chan wouldn't have to be the bad guy anymore...He could be the one trying to protect you instead he just had to come up with a way to get it to work.

Tagline: @moonprincessdiviniation - my beautiful and wonderful editor, @jooniesdarlingdimples @taestannie @kneel-begyourpardon @calling-dips-on-j-hope @hugs4chan @ncitythoughts @inseonqt @cloudsgathering

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bunnysuit-femboy · 3 years

Text

The Worst Wingman - Tiger’s Eye and Gold

(Chapter 2 / 3)

Jean x Reader

Word Count: 5.6k

Previous Chapter

Warnings: Mentions of vomiting, Implied sex

Summary: Jean sucks at picking blind dates for you, but at least he’s trying. After one final attempt at finding love at the hands of Jean, he goes on a double date with you and the newest boy he’s thrown onto you. The boy is everything you never knew you needed, and Jean has to push down his growing feelings at the idea of you being happy without him.

Notes: I am not shitting on polpette di cavallo or the consumption of horse meat in general, I understand that it is a popular Italian dish and I was only mocking my ignorance towards the subject! (Plus, I thought it’d be funny to make a horse joke in a Jean x Reader)

Second Saturday

The night air wasn’t chilly, but you stayed by Jean’s side nonetheless. You pressed against his arm, using his body heat to keep yourself warm. And, Jean didn’t mind the close company - he actually liked it when you got close to him, it was the same reason he cuddled with you so often.

You and Jean stood outside of an unfamiliar restaurant, waiting for the last two people of the party to show up and to inform the hostess of their reservation. You normally hated double dates because the other couple always seemed to have more fun than you. But, you felt safe by Jean’s side, you knew he’d go as far as blatantly ignoring his date if it meant he got to have one conversation with you. Maybe that was selfish to think, but you didn’t mind, you’d probably never use him anyways - only keeping him as plan B in a worst case scenario.

But, you surprisingly had faith. Maybe - just maybe - this date will be your last one in a very long time. Maybe you would fall in love with this football player. Maybe you’d marry him and eventually start a family. Maybe you’d make sure to visit this same restaurant every anniversary - a physical monument of where your love had sprouted.

And then, as the years ticked by in your relationship, maybe you’d find yourselves growing sick of each other. Maybe you’d come home early from work and find him fucking his secretary over his desk in his home office. Maybe you’d stay with him, but only for the kids. Maybe - just maybe - you’d be able to ignore the whole affair just to pretend you love him for a few more years until your eventual death.

Oh God, love was exhausting - even to think about. And, it always seemed to end in pain, no matter how in love the couple seemed to be once upon a time.

It was hard to ignore the facts, and the inevitable ending to all things good. It was hard to ignore the over 50% of people who got divorced each year. And, it was hard to pretend you were more deserving of a lifelong fantastic marriage full of love and laughter just because-

“What are you thinking about?” Jean asked with a giggle.

You looked up at the boy, your eyebrows furrowed, “Huh?”

Jean smiled wide, “You look like you’re going to be sick.” He looked around quickly, taking in the sight of the other couples also waiting for a table inside. “Do you want to leave? We can go back to mine and forget this entire night was supposed to happen.”

“No,” You said quickly, “I want to meet him. You went through so much work to convince him to go on this date, why would I throw that away so easily?”

“Not really.” Jean frowned lightly as he looked past you, clearly reliving memories in his head, “I didn’t really do anything, actually.”

It was true, all Jean had to do was show the football player a picture of you and he was in. Jean had started the conversation by asking the football player’s schedule for the next weekend and if he was free for a date that Saturday. At first, the boy continuously refused any date, saying he needed the day to practice before the next game, but Jean showed the boy a picture instead of arguing with his words.

The football player fell completely silent, staring at Jean’s phone with widened eyes. It was hard to say no to a date with you - to put it simply, you were a goddess. The football player continued to stare at the picture of you, taken last Halloween when you and Jean had dressed as a witch and her black cat familiar; you being the witch and Jean being your cat. It was Jean’s favorite picture of you because you showed your candid smile as you laughed at one of Jean’s jokes, instead of your fake smile you saved for pictures.

The football player quickly agreed to the date after seeing the picture. He gave Jean his number, urging Jean to text him the time and place. He’d be there, the football player promised, he wouldn’t miss it for the world.

“Sure,” You said sarcastically, “I’m sure you had to promise him a month’s supply of-” You took a moment to remember what football players liked other than football- “Steroids.”

“Seriously?” Jean asked with a laugh, “Keep the steroids jokes to a minimum when he shows up, okay?” Jean furrowed his eyebrows. “Actually, don’t mention steroids at all when he gets here.”

You sighed, “If it’s any consolation, I was going to say protein powder.” You turned to Jean, slightly tilting your head. “Can I make protein powder jokes when he’s here?”

Jean frowned at you, “I guess-”

“And,” You added with a grin, “Can I make shoulder pad jokes?”

“I suppose-”

“And, can I make football field jokes? Or, is that too much as well?”

“Okay,” Jean said as he threw an arm around your shoulders, “I see what you’re doing.” Jean shoved your face into his chest which had always been his favorite way to shut you up. You inhaled the familiar scent of his clothes, and the unfamiliar scent of a new cologne he wore specifically for this date. “You’re such a smart ass.”

You pushed your head out from between his chest and arm, “You’re ruining my hair, you bastard!”

Jean laughed as he pulled you closer to him, “It still looks great, don’t worry about it.”

“Hey, Jean,” A new voice said from only a few feet away, “And-”

Jean pushed you from his body, allowing you to extend a single hand in the blonde boy’s direction, “Hi, it’s lovely to meet you.” You told the boy your name before he finally introduced himself.

The boy shook your hand with a strong grasp, “I’m Reiner-”

“And, I’m Pieck,” A black haired girl said as she poked her head out from behind Reiner’s broad back. The girl stood in front of Jean and smiled up at him, “And, I suppose you’re my date. Unless she is-” Pieck glanced at you- “Which I’m more than okay with as well.”

“No,” Jean said quickly, “I am.”

“Awesome,” Pieck said with a smile, “Is there a table being readied for us inside or-”

“I have a reservation,” Reiner said, “The table should’ve been readied about ten minutes ago, when we were supposed to be here - Pieck - if you didn’t take an hour just to pick a dress.”

Pieck smiled wide though her words were drenched in venom, “I thought you said you’d stop mentioning that once we got here, Reiner.” Pieck turned to her friend with a tilt of her head. “Am I correct?”

Reiner’s face dropped as well as his stomach, “Of course, I’m sorry, Pieck.”

“So,” Jean said to fill the new silence that had settled, “You all think we should head inside now?”

“Yes!” Pieck said as she ran to Jean’s side, sliding her arm around his and pulling him off towards the front doors of the restaurant. You couldn’t help but pout at their backs as they walked off, noticing how close they immediately got with each other and even the new smile plastered across Jean’s face.

“And,” A gentle voice said suddenly from your left, “‘You ready to head inside as well?”

You looked at the boy by your side and took in the sight of his arm thrusted in your direction. His arm was thick, as much as a football player’s arm is supposed to be. And - if you looked close enough - you could see where his muscle was bulging beneath the fabric of his button down shirt and where the veins of his arms were protruding from within his skin.

You walked inside the restaurant by Reiner’s side, intertwining your arm with his. He talked briefly with the hostess at the entrance, and then walked with you as the group was led to a large table in the back. The table was sensually dimmed and if you were here with only one person, you were sure you would end the night in their arms - the atmosphere was enough to cause your heart rate to accelerate and butterflies to flutter around in your stomach.

You took the seat across from your date, and Pieck quickly took the seat to your right. The night started slowly, a light stream of conversation amongst the four of you. You talked about the general information of each person; their college major, their hobbies, their living situations, their weekend plans, and anything else someone could think of in the heat of the moment.

The night was going swimmingly, you ordered the white wine and a dish going by the name of polpette di cavallo which you hadn’t given much thought to before ordering. It was a smaller dish than what you were originally expecting, a white porcelain plate with a mysterious brown substance surrounding three meatballs.

You pushed your fork and knife through the slightly charred meat, cutting the balls into consumable pieces. You continued to talk with the group and - more specifically - Reiner. You found out more about the boy you were on the date with, from his personal life to his football career to his plans after college.

He was sweet, he was funny, and he always gave you time to speak - continuously asking you questions about yourself.

But, unfortunately for him, you couldn’t take your eyes off of Jean. He talked with Pieck to your right, and you couldn’t help but listen to every word exchanged between the two. Even going as far as cutting into their conversation a few times and answering a question clearly directed at Jean.

“And then,” You said in response to Pieck’s question, “Jean went back to the party to pick Connie up because he finally realized he left him behind!”

Pieck giggled loudly, “That’s amazing!” She completely turned in her seat, now facing you instead of her date. “Then, what happened?”

You leaned closer to the girl, “Then, he called and begged me to meet him at the party.” You grinned wider. “Because, he didn’t want to leave again after going back.”

Pieck quickly turned back to Jean, “Why didn’t you want to leave? Even after Sasha threw that drink in your face?” Pieck then looked back at you. “And, why did he call you to come to the party as well?”

You furrowed your eyebrows at Pieck, “I’m actually not sure-”

Jean shrugged lightly, “I just- I wanted another beer and I needed somebody to drive me home afterwards.”

You turned your gaze to Jean, your eyes lit with a new fury. That was why he called you that night? For a damn ride, not even for your company? It was always strange to you how Jean could be so casually cruel. He’d speak before thinking and end up breaking a piece of your heart without noticing - and he did it frequently.

“Seriously,” The word was drenched in hurt as you shouted it across the table at Jean, “That’s seriously all you called me for? You just wanted a ride, Kirstein?”

Jean scratched the back of his neck, “I know you don’t really like drinking so I wasn’t worried about you getting drunk-”

“What do you mean I don’t like drinking?” You thrusted your hand towards your half-full glass of white wine. “I drink all of the time, I’m a real maniac.”

Jean smiled, “Oh, you’re crazy-” Jean leaned on the table, coming closer to you- “I mean, you really are a maniac - How can you possibly slowly sip white wine at an Italian restaurant?”

And, as quickly as Jean could upset you and break your heart, he could just as quickly mend your broken parts.

You bit your lip to hide your new smile, “I can go crazy-” You leaned towards Jean as well- “Sometimes, I sip from your beers and then I immediately regret it because it’s gross.”

“Oh,” Jean giggled with the word, “You’re wild.”

It was like time had stopped completely - which seemed to happen a lot when around Jean. You were sure it was because he was too beautiful not to stare at, and Father Time helped you by stopping everything altogether. Or, you thought the effect of time stopping was purely psychological considering how deeply you knew the boy. But, whatever the reason, time stopped nonetheless.

You sat motionless, only looking into Jean’s eyes - a color reminding you of a tiger's eye crystal. And - like a tiger’s eye crystal - Jean seemed to radiate confidence and strength, and gave you an unknown balance to your own being. Jean was your second half, a part of you that you hadn’t known was missing. He was like the second half of an undone puzzle or-

“How’s your-” Reiner said, suddenly breaking the moment between you and Jean- “Your- uh, po- polpette-”

“Polpette di cavallo,” Pieck finished Reiner’s sentence for him.

Reiner nodded briskly, “That.” He smiled wide at you. “How is that?”

“It’s good,” You said as you scanned the plate in front of you, “It’s very thick, I think they used a different part of the cow than what I’m used to.” You glanced at the three faces watching you intently. “Maybe the stomach? I don’t know what part they use for hamburgers, I don’t really like thinking about it.”

Pieck giggled and pushed your shoulder lightly, “You’re kidding, right?”

You widened your eyes at the girl, “Oh, is it not the stomach?” You cleared your throat. “Then, the- the thighs?”

“No, silly,” Pieck said with a smile, “That’s not beef-” Pieck thrusted at the meat still sitting on the plate in front of you- “That’s chavelin.”

You gave Pieck a blank face, “Chave- what?”

“Chavelin.” Pieck tilted her head at you. “You know, horse meat?”

Suddenly, the chavelin was making another entrance, just this time coming back up. You smashed a hand over your mouth as the horse meat mingled with your stomach acid, begging to be back on the plate in front of you. You made quick eyes around the table; first at Pieck who was rubbing your shoulder soothingly and asking what was wrong, then to Reiner who was leaning across the table with wide eyes, and then to Jean who was already standing, gesturing you towards the bathroom.

Jean, sweet Jean, you felt strangely guilty for consuming the meat but - oddly enough - he didn’t seem to mind. At least, he didn’t look like he minded as you ran off towards the bathroom, your high heels clicking quickly against the fancy tiles of the Italian restaurant.

You swung the bathroom door open, ignoring the cringeworthy smash that erupted through the room once the door hit the wall behind it. There were other women in the bathroom, but you ignored them as you made your way to the first open stall you could find. The women watched curiously as you fell to your knees in front of the toilet, threatening to throw up the food you had so mindlessly eaten for the last hour and a half.

Nothing came out though, only a few breathless burps into the toilet bowl. You sat there for a few minutes longer than you needed to, sitting against the marble-tiled wall beside the toilet. You pressed your face against the tiles lightly, letting the coolness calm down your sweating skin.

“This is the women’s restroom,” A woman’s voice said from beside the sink.

“I’m sorry,” A familiar voice said back, “I’m just here checking up on somebody. She got sick, I’m here to-”

You lightly pushed the bathroom stall open, leaning against the edge of the door. You smiled weakly at Jean, standing with two middle-aged women who you remembered briefly from when you ran in here. He seemed to be aggressively convincing them of his honesty, swinging his arms around ferociously with his words. And upon seeing you standing in the doorway, the women finally believed him and didn’t try stopping him any further.

“Hi,” You said delicately from across the few feet separating you and Jean, “This is the women’s restroom, what are you doing in here?”

Jean bit back his smile, “I thought you might want some company.” Jean crossed the steps between you, now only a few inches away. “Nobody deserves to puke alone.”

You lightly pushed Jean’s shoulder with a giggle, “You’re ridiculous, but thank you-” You turned around and opened your arms to the inside of the empty bathroom stall- “And, welcome to my humble abode.”

“Oh,” Jean said with a smile, “I like what you did with the place.”

You grinned, “Thank you, I just got done with renovations, so I appreciate that.”

“And,” Jean quickly added as he pointed towards the lone sink in the corner, “The kitchen area looks very nice.”

You shrugged, “I tried to go for something a bit more modern and minimalistic.”

Jean breathlessly giggled by your side, “Well, you succeeded.”

Jean let you take the first seat, watching as you found your spot beside the toilet with the side of your face against the tiled wall. Jean then joined you on the floor, sitting by your side and pressing the side of his face against the tiled wall, but only so he could make eye contact with you.

The bathroom got silent a minute after Jean joined you in the stall. You supposed the other women were either staying quiet in order to eavesdrop or left to return to their dinners. Either way - you didn’t care if the women were there or not - you were going to talk to Jean freely in your secret space.

You weren’t sure why the bathroom now felt sacred to you. It wasn’t at the end of the Labyrinth for only the worthy to find. Instead, it was a bathroom in an Italian restaurant with a purely Italian menu that you should have used Google Translate for. But, it felt like you and Jean’s secret space, a place where you two could always find each other and could spend the rest of eternity together. Nothing bad happened within these stall walls, and nobody was eating horse meat for the past hour and a half within these stall walls.

“Do you remember when we first met?” Jean suddenly asked in an attempt to fill the comfortable silence in the bathroom.

You nodded lightly, “Yeah, of course I do.”

You had met Jean at a house party freshman year of college. You were invited since your roommate at the time was sleeping with the home-owner which happened to be one of Jean’s closest friends. And - ironically - you met Jean on the bathroom floor in that house at that fateful party nearly two years ago. It was strange how things went full circle.

Jean leaned his shoulder into your own, “Do you remember why we even started talking that night?”

You grinned to yourself, “Yeah, I do.”

You only started talking to Jean that night because you found him crying on the floor of the bathroom when you went to find your roommate. He was tipsy and had just seen his ex-girlfriend - who he was clearly not over - downstairs, dancing with another man. You had a bag of popcorn that your roommate begged you to make for her, but you instead offered it to Jean and joined him on the bathroom floor.

Jean tilted his head towards you, “Do you remember what you said to me?”

You looked into Jean’s eyes through your thick eyelashes, “Yes, I remember.”

While sitting on the bathroom floor together, Jean ranted to you about his ex-girlfriend and even the new guy she was dancing with. You heard about why they broke up, who she moved onto, and why he couldn’t bring himself to move on. You then leaned into his side on that bathroom floor, whispering one phrase you had been telling yourself for years.

Jean smiled to himself, “When you go looking for gold, you end up finding fool’s gold - so don’t go looking at all.”

“Let the gold come to you.” You whispered back to Jean, finishing your own quote from two years ago. You hadn’t known the words were so monumentous, you thought nothing of the quote and yet it stayed with him all of these years.

“I followed your advice,” Jean said matter-of-factly, “I followed your advice so well - actually - that I even started to push the gold away when it was just within reach.” Jean looked down at his fingers fiddling with the fabric of his slacks. “I set her up on a hundred horrible dates hoping I could forget about her for only a moment. But, I couldn’t forget about her, even if somebody wiped my memory.”

You felt your cheeks grow hot as you smiled at Jean, “That doesn’t even make sense.” Jean looked at like a wounded deer, wide scared eyes taking up all of your sight. “You can’t remember me if your memory was wiped - that’s not possible.”

“I’d manage,” Jean said with newly red cheeks, “I couldn’t forget you, even if the government tried to make me.”

You pushed Jean’s shoulder playfully, “Nuh-uh - you’re a liar, Kirstein.”

Jean shook his head, “Nope, I’ll always remember you.” He leaned his head in towards you. “I’ll remember your laugh and that little wrinkle you get between your eyebrows when I do something stupid.”

“Oh,” You said with a playful furrow of your brow, “‘You mean the wrinkle I get when you do anything?”

Jean grinned lightly, “Yeah, that one.” He continued leaning in closer until he was only a whisper away. “And how you taste like tropical fruits - like lemons and coconut.”

“And,” You whispered to his mouth, “How do you know what I taste like?”

Jean smiled, “I just intend on finding out.” His lips were pressed lightly against your own, his hand on the side of your head. “So, can I find out?”

You nodded, “Please do.”

Jean gently pressed his lips to yours, and the feeling made your stomach flip with excitement. You moved your legs closer to his, bare thighs on clothed thighs and the hem of your dress shifting up to your hips. You didn’t mind the new coldness spreading over your legs because your insides felt unbearably hot when kissing him.

The softness of Jean’s lips weren’t anything new to you. You had kissed Jean before, a soft smooch during a drunk game of spin the bottle - but never like this. His lips tasted like blueberry vodka last time you tasted them, but now his lips tasted like rosé and mint - a byproduct of the wine he had been drinking all night and the mint he sucked on before you ran off towards the bathroom - It wasn’t the best taste, but you weren’t complaining.

“I’m glad you waited for me,” You whispered into Jean’s mouth.

It became extremely clear to you at some point of the night just how much Jean means to you. Maybe because of one of the many times when you caught Jean’s eyes looking into your own. Or, one of the many times you noticed Jean talking to you when telling a story, as if you were the only one there with him. Or, one of the many times when you watched Jean fiddle mindlessly with the top of his wine glass, his eyes never leaving your frame - mentally undressing you in front of everybody in the restaurant and both of your dates.

He couldn’t help it though, he’s always loved how you looked in that black satin dress. It seemed everybody liked the dress, considering both Reiner and Pieck couldn’t keep their eyes off of your frame as well. Reiner and Pieck, who were still waiting at that table, hoping for some word from their dates who now found themselves sucking face in the women’s restroom.

“Jean,” You whispered, “We should head back.”

Jean sighed, “Okay.”

So, you did. You left the bathroom with Jean and eventually the restaurant, planning on going to where you normally did after dates - Jean’s apartment. It wasn’t easy saying goodbye to such a nice guy like Reiner knowing there wouldn’t be a second date, and it wasn’t easy saying no to Pieck’s offer of a second date with just her, and it especially wasn’t easy staring into that half-finished plate of polpette di cavallo until you and Jean finally made your exit.

The car ride was mostly quiet, both of you ignoring the obvious elephant in the room - what the hell happened in the bathroom. You didn’t regret the conversation on the bathroom floor or even the kiss that came afterwards, but you did regret ever cutting the kiss short. You searched your mind for some way back to that moment, thinking of a plan of either building and operating a time machine or trying again with Jean.

“So,” You said, “Pieck seems nice.”

Jean grinned to himself, “So does Reiner.”

You nodded slowly and turned to look out of the window, “‘Think there will be a second date with her?”

“If you’re having a second date with Reiner.” Jean spared a glance from the road in order to look at you. “‘Think there will be a second date with him?”

“Eh, he’s not really my type.”

Jean stopped the car at a red light. The color red seeped through the windshield, turning the inside of the car a bright crimson. Jean’s features were lit up by the light as his gaze danced across every inch of your face.

“He’s not?” Jean asked, “Then, what’s your type?”

You furrowed your brow, “Are you stupid?”

Jean smiled wide, “What are you saying?”

You shook your head and leaned forward, caressing Jean’s cheeks gently. You pressed your lips to his, smiling against his mouth. Jean kissed you back, quickly turning a sensual peck into a feverish makeout.

You felt Jean’s hands as they moved up the soft fabric of your dress. His fingers moved across your side and then wrapped around your body, landing on your back. He used the new position to pull you closer, much to your surprise considering the gasp that escaped from between your lips to the movement.

You wrapped your arms around Jean’s neck, pulling his face in closer. You pushed your tongue towards his mouth, and he gladly let it enter between his lips. You felt his breath hitch in his throat when you curled your tongue and swiped it across the roof of his mouth. Jean responded to the kiss with a tight grip on your dress only bringing you in-

A car suddenly honked it’s horn from behind you. Jean and you pulled apart as quickly as possible, ignoring that anything had happened. You slowly wiped your thumb across your bottom lip, smearing the wetness from the kiss onto your fingertip.

The rest of the ride was brutal, your desire for Jean was only getting unbearable. He didn’t even have to do anything. His fingers curving around the steering wheel made your heart pound. His slight head bob to the music quietly playing from the radio made your stomach inflate with nerves. And, his perfect posture in the driver’s seat made you want to groan with how badly you wanted him.

It was ridiculous, you were turning into a prepubescent boy - finding anything and everything Jean did as the epitome of attraction.

The car couldn’t have pulled into the apartment building’s parking lot any sooner. You were practically melting in Jean’s passenger seat and you needed to feel him again, you didn’t care why. You opened the car door and eventually walked alongside Jean towards his apartment complex.

You silently walked into the apartment building with Jean, and even rode up the elevator just as quiet. You waited beside him as he unlocked his apartment door. You watched as the muscles in his back moved under his shirt as he attempted to hold the door and unlock it at the same time - a trick the lock needed since the apartment was so old.

Once inside, you quickly kicked your shoes off, leaving them to lay with his shoes. You dropped your purse with the shoes as well, leaving it on the floor beside the door. And once you had discarded your unneeded items, you stood there - waiting for a sign from him, any sign at all.

Jean crossed his arms against his chest, his eyes landing on anything in the room but you. He peered across the kitchen and living room, even eyeing his bedroom door for a few seconds. Jean sighed before mumbling into the awkwardly silent room.

“So,” Jean said, “What do you want to do?”

You pressed your lips together, “I liked what we were doing in the car.” Jean suddenly looked at you, his eyes widened. “And, in the bathroom at the restaurant.”

Jean grinned to himself, “‘You wanna do that again?”

“Yes.” You nodded. “I do.”

Jean crossed the space between you, swooping his arms around you and pressing your chest into his. You bent your head upwards, giving Jean more room as his mouth pressed kisses into your neck and cheek. You giggled with your words as you attempted to speak.

“Jean,” You said as you pushed your fingers through his soft hair. You moved Jean’s face back enough to make eye contact with him. “‘Race you to the bedroom?”

Jean never thought he could let go of you in general, never mind quicker than he’s ever done anything before in his life. As soon as you were out his arms, Jean was running towards his bedroom door. You tried to beat him though, grabbing his arm and pulling him backwards, but nothing stopped him - he beat you into the bedroom.

You left the door open in front of you, standing back as Jean threw his discarded clothes from the bedroom floor and into his laundry basket - a half assed attempt at cleaning up. You supposed the gesture was nice, considering he wanted to clean up for you. But, it was even nicer knowing Jean had never seen his date with Pieck ending here.

Your eyes peered across the entirety of his bedroom, something so familiar now with a different connotation. You’ve touched Jean plenty of times in this very room, but not the way you’re about to. You knew that after tonight, everything would be different between you two - but a good type of different that filled you with hope.

Your eyes landed on the alarm clock on his bedside table, the red numbers flickering suddenly from 11:59 to 12:00.

Second Sunday

Jean’s body weight was crushing on top of you, but a type of crushing weight that was comfortable. You swore you could live under Jean’s body for the rest of eternity. He was warm and strong and his kissing only made the position all that much better.

Your dress was on the floor and you were mostly naked, lying on Jean’s bed with only a bra and panties on. He pressed his bare chest into your chest, the only clothes on his body being his pair of slacks and the brown belt holding them up.

“Jean,” You breathed into his mouth, “I want you.”

Jean groaned against your lips, the sound coming from deep within his throat. He had never thought he’d hear those words from your lips, he never thought he’d be good enough to. But alas, here you were; underneath him, mostly naked, whispering gut wrenching phrases into his mouth.

You moved your hands down his lean body, dainty fingers finding the waistline of his pants. You undid the belt around his waist and threw it to the floor once it was out of the belt loops. You then brought your hands to his zipper, undoing that as well.

You pushed Jean’s slacks down his legs, moving them out of the way in order to free enough space for what you really wanted from him at the moment. You curled your hands around his body, digging your nails into his back in an attempt to bring him closer. You pressed your fingers into the small of his back as you bucked your hips upwards towards him.

You felt as Jean’s hardness pressed down between your legs, and you couldn’t help the moan that escaped from between your lips. Jean moved his lips from yours, allowing more panting breaths to escape from your mouth as he continued to press down into you. He instead kissed down your neck, taking in each moan and ingraining them into his memory.

You moved your fingers into the waistband of his boxers, and pushed them down over his hips. He was just as big as you had always assumed. You weren’t perverted or dirty minded per say, but some nights you’d catch yourself with an excessive amount of questions; you’d wonder about his size, if he were good in bed, and if he had ever satisfied a woman before.

Sure enough, your questions would be answered after tonight.

You brought your hips to his, feeling him through only one layer of clothing now. You brought your hips off of the bed, pushing your panties down over your thighs. You awkwardly moved your legs around Jean’s, attempting to kick the fabric to the floor.

Jean brought his mouth to your ear before breathily whispering, “Do you still want me?”

You nodded frantically, “Yes, yes- yes, please.”

Jean grinned at your response, finally bringing his hips to yours. It was a moment you had waited for for much longer than you thought. This moment was in the distance for two whole years, and now it was finally here. You had wanted this for so long, to the point where you’d take anything Jean would give you - such as a drunken peck and a date with nearly every man on campus.

Next Chapter

#jean kirstein #jean aot #aot #modern au #college au #jean x reader #aot x reader #jean boy #jean kirstein x reader #double date #x reader #slight smut #f/m

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butwhatifidothis · 3 years

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Just something I wanted to focus on here, since they'd be too long for the notes.

Throughout the fic, Edelgard has recruited a good few units - Sylvain, Ingrid, Marianne, and Lysithea - mostly through the idea of her viewing them as more than their Crests. A major problem with that, however, is something that’s been noted a couple times before but frankly is far more fatal to the fic than I might have made it seem.

Recall, again, Claude’s words to Edelgard in Chapter 29:

““I have to admit, grabbing Lysithea and Marianne really caught me off guard…the sole heirs to two of the six ruling houses of the Alliance. (<- wow just caught that lmao there's only five major houses of thee Roundtables) It’s a nice haul. And I’ve seen how chummy you’ve gotten with the Gautier and Galatea kids as well. ... Oh, I’m not implying anything, Princess. I’m just, let’s say…impressed that you happened to forge such deep friendships with Ingrid and Marianne…instead of, oh…Leonie and Ashe? For someone who’s always talking about how they hate Crests and nobles, you seem to spend a lot of time-“”

Now, I’ve noted before that Claude is in fact fully in line with throwing this in Edelgard’s face - it’s her being blatantly hypocritical in her supposed beliefs and does heavily imply that her words are all just for show. At no point in the fic has she ever even attempted to even talk with commoners, let alone befriend them - the one sole exception is Dorothea, although even she has influence through being a diva and it should be noted that she was already in Edelgard's house beforehand. Like Claude said, no one like Leonie, who has absolutely no connections with anyone whatsoever.

The fic, of course, wants us to treat Claude’s words as uncalled for, incorrect, a view of Edelgard that he has that is warped, because we should know that Edelgard does in fact care for her friends as friends, not political tools.

But... why should we think that?

Why should we believe Edelgard’s words when she says that she sees Ingrid, Sylvain, Marianne, and Lysithea as more than their Crests? When the only people she’s ever talked to are the most vulnerable of the Crested nobles? Why doesn’t Edelgard try to befriend Felix? Lorenz? Annette? Mercedes? Hilda? Why doesn’t she talk with the commoners? Ashe, Leonie, Raphael, Ignatz? No, she befriends (as they have been depicted in this fic) the suicidal knight wanna-be, the self-hating conditionally-loved son, the suicidal religious outcast, and the dying candle. All heirs, all Crested, all emotionally unsteady, all ripe to be swept up by Edelgard’s words.

Not her actions. Her words. Because Edelgard has done nothing to prove that she didn’t pick them out because of their cool neat strong Crests and their cool neat powerful noble titles. She doesn’t personally console Ashe during Lonato - it was enough for her to distantly make sure he was kept away from Rhea, but she has absolutely nothing to do with the commoner afterwards, unlike Sylvain. She doesn’t help the commonfolk Remire survivors - Petra had to do that for her. She doesn’t mourn for Miklan’s victims for more than a couple lines - Miklan, the poor noble, is the true victim that should be given more attention than those victimized by him. She doesn’t get to know the four of them as people - she’s had no conversation with them that was just about them bonding and learning more about each other, all they do is trauma dump at each other. The commonfolk mean nothing to her, and her “friends” just seem like convenient check-boxes in her “have a foothold in [x] nation of Fodlan” checklist.

This is further emphasized by the fact that Sylvain and Ingrid, when they’re fighting, never use anything other than the Lance of Ruin and Luin. This completely fine in most other fics, but in one trying to say that “Crests don’t make anyone better!!” it sure is strange that these two always use a weapon that only they can use because they have Crests. No no no, Crests totally don’t make anyone better than anyone else, they just let you use incredibly powerful weapons and let you have heightened strength on top of being able to wield already powerful weapons - weapons whose power are often emphasized in this fic when used, mind. Same for the Sword of the Creator, really - Byleth totally isn’t better than her students just cuz she has the Crests of Flames, it’s just that her having that lets her use the single most powerful sword in all of Fodlan’s history. But Crests don’t make anyone better though, I promise.

So with all that in mind - the fact that Edelgard never talks with commoners, the fact that her only commoner friend is one of the most famous divas in Fodlan (or at minimum personally knows the most famous diva), the fact that all of the people outside of her house that she’s befriended are Crested nobles who are all heirs to their respective houses, the fact that all of these Crested nobles (in this fic) are incredibly emotionally vulnerable - it’s hard to overlook that maybe the four recruited Black Eagles... were emotionally manipulated into following Edelgard, their personal stories used to make them mindless loyal followers to the “only person” who can make their lives better, with her violent war (that she chose to declare as her first option without trying anything else beforehand) being the “only way” their lives can get better. That Claude is 100% right and Edelgard did specifically choose these four to “befriend” so that she can have fingers in the pies of Faerghus and Leicester.

Like, fuckin’ duh this wasn’t the intent of Cap’n, not by a long shot. But this is what happens when you completely ignore your story-building, your characters, and when you just carelessly write anything. Cap’n didn’t think about what it means that Edelgard only befriended 1) nobles 2) with Crests 3) with severe emotional instability 4) while completely ignoring commoners who (according to this fic) similarly have been negatively affected by the system she wants to destroy (Ashe only got fucked over, according to this fic, because the Church is so eeeeevil and forced Lonato to be a shitbag, but Ashe is barely present despite that). He just wanted Edelgard to hang out with his faves/make the Church look bad - who cares what he’s actually writing Edelgard do, the author says that Edelgard isn’t using them, and so she isn’t.

This is supposed to be a crucial component of the fic - that people with Crests are more than their Crests and are just like anyone else - but that’s starkly contrasted with Edelgard giving unique attention to people with Crests. Nobility going away is also something present in the fic, but again, Edelgard only personally talks to and helps nobles barring Dorothea, so that message is also obscured. Because of that, it’s really impossible to take what this fic is trying to say seriously when all that resounds in the back of my head is “Claude - and Dimitri, with Miklan - were completely right”

#o captain my captain #like how am I supposed to view Edelgard as a hero when she never proves herself to be one?#when she continuously provers her adversaries right in their negative assessments of her without any awareness?#when she never improves herself? when her flaws are never addressed?#there's just this giant disconnect between what the consequences of Edelgard's actions should be and what actually happens to her

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queer-as-used-by-tolkien · 3 years

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Storyline Study: Order Mentor

When you joined your Order at level thirty and met your mentor at level forty, each of the three was instantly revealed to be a different person altogether from the other two.

Tybalt Leftpaw, Lightbringer of the Order of Whispers, was on his first-ever field mission. He was very blatantly calling for you in a sort of undercover way, and simultaneously panicking when you tried to mention the full name of the Order. Your supposed mentor was as new to this as you, had a (sometimes very human-teenager) sense of humor, and had a rather sad backstory balanced by his good nature. You knew he liked apples.

Sieran, Magister of the Durmand Priory, was full of reckless abandon, disregard for authority, boundless curiosity and a heart for the little things. She was confident in her role and her ability, and unhesitatingly took you into dangerous places for the sake of exploration and adventure while brushing off rebuke like a tree sheds sap - even when it was heartily deserved. You learned to be rather frightened for her.

Forgal Kernsson, Warmaster of the Vigil, was an archetypal gruff, stern old mentor whose every drop of praise spoke volumes. But he also carried a sort of wildness to him, that rough edge from growing up a hunter in the Shiverpeaks, coupled with every willingness to say it like it was if it was true. He could be surprised, he could observe calmly when something was new, he could snark like the rest of them and even say things he didn't mean from time to time.

They all fought the dragons - they each more or less took it seriously. But Tybalt was a partner and friend, you were keeping Sieran in check, not the other way around, and Forgal trained you mercilessly.

You all grew together - they had each changed for the better by the time they died. Tybalt had learned that he was worth something, Sieran had learned friendship was worth everything, and Forgal had learned... well. He'd found a student to be proud of, a partner to fight with, a friend to trust... a child to carry on his legacy. But I'm not sure, exactly, what Forgal learned - what the point of his story was.

Sieran was more-or-less well suited to her role in the story; she symbolized innocence and cheer and optimism and the beauty of the world - so you could recognize what was being lost by the dragon's onslaught. Tybalt's story was one extremely well-suited to his character; he taught you that working together was vital to survival, even when neither of you knew exactly what you were doing - a valuable lesson as the story progressed. Both of their stories fit well enough into the three-mission story sequence concluding in their death.

But Forgal was different. He was the mentor who dies partway through. He was the one who trained you and taught you all he could, who died imparting one last gem of wisdom. Or, he should have.

I am not attacking Forgal. I am attacking ArenaNet. We had too little time with Forgal for the story Anet was trying to tell with him. He was like Obi-Wan but without showing up again as a ghost, without the prequels, without being able to send Luke to Yoda - without, most significantly, being able to explain why he'd said Luke's father was dead.

We don't know Forgal. We don't understand him. We only know his family died to Icebrood... but why is he with the Vigil, specifically? Why is he a good friend of Almorra's - allowed to butt in and insult a diplomatic ambassador with barely a reprimand? Forgal is the character that tells me the Vigil has been around decades, not a mere five years. Was he in another military? Forgal was over a hundred years old. You don't join a military at that age and, five years later, are a highly self-disciplined warrior such as he was. Maybe he was Lionguard? Hear this: Forgal is actually older than Lion's Arch. If he'd survived, he would have been old enough to bear witness to all three incarnations of that city. But, apart from being able to recognize the Orrian Scout on sight, this is only a trivial piece of lore.

After he judged us worthy, we should have had long training sessions with him - sparring matches wherein he would easily fend off our blows while simultaneously teaching us about the world, all the wisdom he'd gathered, expounding just a bit on the history of the Elder Dragons (perhaps customized for player's race!) - and then we go off and have a real Vigil mission. Perhaps remove the racial sympathy 'choice' and have all five! A sparring match before each one, with a different lesson (the racial sympathy missions were awfully short anyway). And if you want to keep the idea implied by the term 'racial sympathy,' you could change the tone of some of them, make the player more reluctant and Forgal more impatient, have a middle-of-mission lecture on why it's important to work with everyone - this way you joining an Order feels less 'oh you've always been sympathetic to other races' and more 'wait who are these people.' But you know the real kicker? These training sessions would have made us actually feel like we were a treasured part of his life, the kid he never had, that he takes the effort to train us and takes the time to correct us when we're wrong, that he shares his history with us.

And then, at Claw Island, he would place a hand on our shoulder and tell us - hey - don't worry. You did good. You tell my tale and you take my lessons and put them to good use, you hear me? Listen to Trahearne over there - I've told you a bit about him - he's a good kid, he's smart and he knows what he's doing. And - partner? Partner, I need you to put me down if that blasted dragon raises me.

And we're in tears and Trahearne standing there also puts up a fight and tells him not to go, but Forgal goes anyway, roaring his defiance at the dragon - and his famous line, "you may win the battle, dragon, but you will never defeat our spirit!" And maybe he adds - "you may defeat me, but I will be avenged!" like some cartoon villain only you know - you know that means you.

That is the storyline Forgal deserved. (I selfishly also fixed it just a bit with regards to Trahearne, but...) I don't care if we add an extra ten or twenty levels to the game to account for the four extra racial sympathy story chapters.

And see, now you'll argue that that's biased in favor of Forgal, to do all that with him but not the other two - and that's part of the idea.

Forgal isn't like the other two. He shouldn't be compared to the other two. The storyline we have is good for the other two. Extending their stories would feel... false. Yes, there are supposed to be parallels between the three Orders, but... in that case, ArenaNet should have done something entirely different with Forgal.

How about this: Almorra assigns us to someone else for a mentor, but we show such epic promise she switches us to Laranthir. His storyline? It's right in his idle dialogue at the Vigil Keep - he's always sought love. This puts his storyline on par with Sieran and Tybalt. What about Forgal? He's a Lionguard that all three Order mentors know well. We do racial sympathy with Forgal plus our Order mentor (doing those with only one ally is kind of absurd anyway). This can help set-up and foreshadow the tactical significance of Claw Island, too - and hey, maybe Forgal can even survive that! Or maybe he doesn't survive it but our Order mentor does! (Yeah, that fits better, since Laranthir is important in HoT.) And then, once the Pact is formed, their stories end more naturally without regard for the Order parallels, which would keep the story unique - where your choice of Order still matters even when it doesn't anymore. Tybalt didn't have to die - in fact, it's kind of absurd that he did since his story was about finding his own heroism, and then he dies. He can die later, perhaps, after he's thoroughly proved himself. (And hey, throw in an encounter with his old warband! Bonus lore points!) And Sieran 0 maybe Sieran could go through a heartbreaking transformation in Orr, the land of the dead - you see something far more heartbreaking than her death as she loses her spirit, and you and Trahearne both resolve that even if you're super-busy with the Pact, you can still cleanse Orr together to save Sieran. (This makes cleansing Orr a personal thing for you as well as Trahearne!) And Laranthir - well, I don't know what he was doing originally. Maybe he stayed back at the Vigil Keep to manage things, but you still see him now and then and he gives good advice and (since his storyline was about falling in love or something) you get to tease him about whatever's going on in his life, and then later he shows up again in HoT.

I'm going to stop - I already just presented a rough outline of a whole rewrite of core PS, I'm not going to step into HoT territory. (But since his storyline was about falling in love - ? Anything could happen really. Maybe his love died in the crash (we don't actually know of any characters who died in the actual crash. Awful shame) and that's why he takes the lead against Mordremoth. That would give him a cool motive.)

Anet I want this now.

I only wanted to say how unfair Forgal's story was to him, and then I came up with this whole thing - ? Some of it included a few helpful fixes for the Trahearne hate - this isn't something I can write out into a whole fic since I have a main fic and while this is a significant AU it's not quite enough for a whole fic but also far too much for just a headcanon - maybe I'll invent a new Commander.

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inkedstarlight · 3 years

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Bittersweet: Chapter Twelve

Summary: With the New Year comes new changes: Azriel and Elain are now together, Nesta and Cassian have a moment, and someone new enters the mix. Notes: This was the longest I've gone without posting new content, but I'm back in the groove. I'm officially making Sundays my upload day, so look out for that! There will be a new chapter every week. I already have the next couple chapters written, and it will be a lot more consistent now. Read it here on AO3! Warnings: very brief mentions of PTSD and sexual assault Bittersweet Masterlist

January

It was the third week of the desolate, grey month of January. The snow arrived quickly and ruthlessly. The city of Boulder was coated in a thick layer of knee-deep snow, its surface glittering under the sun enough to blind a passerby. Nesta embraced the winter, but there was nothing more she hated than a frozen ground paired with a sunny sky. Going outside bundled in multiple layers only to return home a sweaty mess. It was a suffocating feeling, to be wearing a heavy coat under sunshine.

No, Nesta preferred the unforgiving version of the coldest season. She knew how to dress; she knew what to expect when she stepped outside. It was predictable. Easy.

With the New Year came new changes. To start, Elain and Azriel were now dating, which came as a surprise to no one. When Elain sidled up next to Nesta in the kitchen on New Year’s Day and bashfully told her that she and Azriel were officially together, Nesta just levelled her a look as if to say, No shit, Sherlock.

As much as she despised the fact that their lives were becoming inextricably connected with Feyre's little group, however, Nesta was happy for her sister. Azriel treated Elain like she walked on water. of course, in Nesta's mind, no one would ever be good enough for her sister. Azriel was just managing to wiggle his way over Nesta's impossibly high standards for Elain, the bastard.

He had been spending time at their apartment quite a bit. At first, he and Nesta didn’t speak much. They would both stare at their phones in silence when Elain went to the bathroom or checked on whatever was in the oven at the time.

It wasn’t until the day that Nesta returned home from work to see Azriel playing with Minx in the living room did they 'bond.' When Nesta made her way into the apartment, Azriel explained to her that Elain was switching over the laundry in the complex’s basement. She merely nodded, her piercing stare falling to Azriel's ankles where Minx was rubbing against. She could hear his purrs from where she stood. The fucking traitor.

Nesta watched them play before they began to talk about animals, which turned into shitting on Cassian (Azriel was most certainly joking, but Nesta’s jabs were 100% genuine), which then turned into complaining about the frequency of their little family dinners. Turns out Azriel isn't exactly a social butterfly but Nesta figured that out pretty quickly. When Elain returned with laundry basket in hand, she found Nesta showing off the tricks she’d taught Minx to Azriel, the latter of whom was quite impressed. And that’s how Nesta realized that she and Azriel had more in common than she would've guessed. They both preferred to be in the background, not drawing too much attention to themselves. To Nesta's delight, she also realized Azriel had just as sharp a tongue as she did. The only difference was he knew how to control himself. Although Nesta would never admit it, she could learn a thing or two from Azriel.

But all this was heavily dampened by the fact that Cassian kept worming his way into her life. She supposed it was normal to run into your neighbors, but she had a sneaking suspicion the man somehow memorized her entire schedule. Wherever she turned, he seemed to be there. The elevator was like their rendezvous spot. Nesta was tempted to take the staircase just to avoid him, but her stubborn ass refused to change a thing for him. Even if it was just two flights of stairs.

Cassian had caught her several times in the past weeks. She thought back to a few run-ins that she hadn’t managed to stop thinking about.

“It’s full,” Nesta said dryly, not bothering to look up from her phone. She knew who it was. Who else would go out of their way to enjoy her warm and welcoming presence?

Nesta was just getting back from a short shift she'd picked up at Rita’s. The elevator doors had been closing when Cassian’s foot shot out to stop them.

Cassian looked around at the empty elevator, his eyes finally landing on Nesta. “I think I can squeeze in.”

Nesta looked up from her phone to glare at him. He was wearing a maroon crew neck and medium wash jeans that were rolled up at the ankles. She spied a golden chain around his neck that just slightly peaked out of the sweater. She wondered if it was a cross. Was he religious?

Nesta caught herself before she could think more about it. She didn’t care; she had no interest in getting to know this man. And she knew the feeling was mutual.

She just cleared her throat and looked down at her phone once again, determined to ignore his presence.

Unfortunately, Cassian was just as determined to make his presence known.

Eyes glued to her screen, Nesta did her best to stay as still as possible as she felt Cassian walk into the elevator. She was standing at the back corner, practically a part of the wall herself. Instead of stopping where there was plenty of room, however, he kept walking until he was right next to her. He leaned back against the wall, and Nesta caught a whiff of his cologne. It was warm and fresh and purely male.

She clenched her fist. He smelled good.

She hated that he smelled good.

"Calculating something?" he asked quietly. Nesta detected the amusement in his voice and restrained herself from putting him in a chokehold.

But she followed his gaze that was looking at her phone screen. Brows furrowed, she too looked at the screen.

Fuck.

Nesta hadn't even realized she'd been staring at the calculator app this entire time. When Cassian had gotten into the elevator, she'd opened a random app, a last-ditch attempt at looking busy so he wouldn’t bother her. That plan had clearly failed.

And with her shit luck, she opened the fucking calculator app.

"Yep," she cleared her throat again, scrambling for something to say. "Just figuring out how much it would cost to hire a bodyguard. You see, I have this stalker -"

"Is he handsome?" Cassian feigned ignorance, his lips twitching upward.

Nesta gritted her teeth at his interruption. "No, he's actually - "

"Charming, rugged, good-looking?" Cassian ran his eyes up and down her body and whistled in astonishment. "Wow, you must really like this guy."

She was going to punch him in the gods-damn throat. “You’re an asshole.”

He just stood there smiling at himself, eyes sparkling with mischief. His dark hair was loose, falling at his shoulders. It looked as though he’d been running his hands through it all day. Nesta’s fingers twitched.

She could acknowledge that Cassian was a good-looking man. She wasn't blind, though she would never admit that to him. His head was big enough as is. That being said, there was no appeal beyond his thick hair and fit body. It was a shame, really. Not to mention that Nesta was unable to look at a man with anything other than cynicism after everything that happened with Tomas.

Nesta stopped herself. She didn't need to think about that right now.

Coming back to reality, Nesta realized she'd been blatantly staring at Cassian this entire time, and it hadn't gone unnoticed. He chuckled deeply and angled his body so he was fully facing her. “See something you like, sweetheart?”

Nesta crossed her arms and snorted. Classy.

“Unfortunately for you, my appetite for arrogant meatheads dissipated during college.”

“Oh?” Cassian repeated with a smirk that Nesta wanted to slap right off. “And pray tell, what’s on your menu now?”

“Just the sweet satisfaction of destroying a man’s masculinity.”

Cassian stared at her for a moment before throwing his head back with laughter. Nesta rolled her eyes just as the elevator dinged. She took the opportunity and quickly raced for the doors.

He was still laughing when the doors closed.

Nesta inwardly groaned at the memory. She’d acted like a dolt, but at least she’d gotten the last word in.

The next time they bumped into each other, however, things weren’t quite as playful.

Nesta couldn’t sleep. She’d been tossing and turning for hours, Minx shooting her glares every time she moved. But sleep refused to come.

With a frustrated groan, she rolled to the side of the bed and checked her phone that was charging on her nightstand.

3:38am.

Fucking ridiculous.

Nesta couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten a good night’s sleep. She’d been having nightmares nearly every night for the past few weeks, only managing to get about four hours of sleep at most. It was enough that she could function during the day and go to work without passing out. Nevertheless, it was exhausting.

She did her best to untangle herself from the comforter and get up without waking Minx. He was sleeping at the foot of the bed, his entire body stretched out like dough. As she got up, she gave him some love. He didn’t even budge; he was a heavy sleeper.

Nesta couldn’t help but feel jealous.

Rubbing her face, she padded out to the kitchen slowly and poured herself a glass of water. She drank it slowly as she leaned against the counter.

After fifteen of staring into space, Nesta made her way to the fridge and opened it, the soft light glowing on her face.

She stared into the fridge for another ten minutes.

With a resigned sigh, Nesta slowly padded back to her room and closed the door behind her. She lazily pulled her long hair into a messy updo. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed her laundry bin. It was overflowing.

She checked the time again. 4:17am.

Fuck it, she thought to herself as she bent down to pick up the laundry basket.

Nesta heaved it into her arms, grabbed the detergent, and made her way down to the complex’s basement where the laundry room was. She was wearing a grey sweater that completely swallowed her body and baggy sweatpants. Her slippers were cat themed. She couldn't care less.

After dumping her dirty clothes into the washing machine and starting it, Nesta sat on top of the empty machine to the left of it. She crossed her legs in her lap and put her hands in her face.

Gods, when was this going to end?

She would almost prefer a nightmare over this. It was the silence that was insufferable. With nightmares, she woke up, stayed awake for a couple hours, and finally fell asleep once her body calmed. But this? She didn’t trust herself to be alone with her thoughts for the entire night. It was never a good thing.

She was just sick of it. The exhaustion, the darkness, the loneliness. Her father’s death still gnawed at her every day. She hadn’t summoned the bravery to read those damn journals. She wasn’t ready. She didn’t know if she’d ever be.

And then Tomas. That horrible memory still surfaced several times a day. She couldn’t shake it; she never felt safe, even when she was in her bedroom. She hated it. Hated the lack of control, the loss of strength. She felt powerless. And without that, what did she even have?

The sound of footsteps disrupted her from her thoughts. Her head shot up as a body filled the doorway to the laundry room. It was Cassian.

He, too, looked like he hadn't gotten a wink of sleep. He looked comfortable in his Nine Inch Nails t-shirt and dark joggers. In his hand was a dryer sheet.

He stared at her. She stared back.

Neither of them said anything as he walked over to the washing machine to the right of the one her clothes were in. Nesta watched with half-lidded eyes as Cassian switched over his load of laundry to the dryer, swiping his card to pay for the cycle.

Once his clothes were tumbling around in the dryer, he straightened and faced her where she sat.

Nesta couldn't put her finger on it, but he seemed different. Not because it was the middle of the night and he was tired. No, there was something else. She just didn't know what.

“Can’t sleep?” he broke the silence, voice rough with exhaustion.

Nesta pursed her lips and nodded, looking away. She expelled a shaky breath. “You?”

Cassian seemed slightly taken aback by her question, but he hid it well. He took a few steps closer. There were still a couple feet between them, but now he was standing in front of her with his hands in his pockets.

“Me neither," he murmured, his hazel eyes capturing her grey ones. "Sometimes I don't even bother trying anymore."

They both got quiet. Nesta didn’t know what to say; his vulnerability scared her.

It was strange. To have a conversation with Cassian without banter, without insults being thrown back and forth. Nesta didn’t know what to think of it.

"I could be deported any day," he admitted, so quietly that Nesta almost didn't hear. Then he added, his voice breaking slightly, "I don't want to go."

Nesta watched him as he looked to the dirty tiles of the laundry room floor. Her lips parted slightly and before she realized what she was doing, she was talking.

"I have nightmares every night. Today was the first time in two months I haven't had one. A strange part of me would rather have horrible dreams instead of this silence... and that scares me."

Cassian was staring at her now, his eyes flaring. He looked like he wanted to move closer, but he remained where he stood. He simply nodded at the piece of herself she'd just shared with him.

I see you, is what he seemed to wordlessly say to her.

A strange feeling of deja vu washed over Nesta as they looked at each other. She couldn't place it, but this - talking with Cassian - felt familiar, like it had happened -

The washing machine next to Nesta dinged, signaling that her clothes had finished. She pulled her gaze from Cassian's and hopped off to switch her clothes over.

Cassian merely watched. Then, they both waited in a comfortable silence until their laundry finished drying. Cassian's finished first, but he waited until Nesta's did to walk her back up. They didn't share a word, but something intangible transpired between them.

And even though Nesta still wasn't able to fall asleep, the silence felt a bit less scary the rest of the night.

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

“Are you excited for the semester to start next week?”

Nesta froze from where she stood washing the dishes when Elain posed the question.

Next week? That couldn’t be right. Nesta counted off the days in her head.

To her horror, Elain was correct.

It was nearing the end of January. She knew she’d had to return to Pryth U after winter break, but Nesta thought she’d have longer. Longer to get over what had happened, to figure out how exactly to avoid him on campus. She thought by now… she thought she wouldn’t be scared anymore.

She was wrong.

“Nesta?”

Nesta peeled her eyes away from the soapy knife that she was clutching tightly in her hand to find Elain peering over at her with a concerned look.

“Yeah,” Nesta forced out, despite every fiber of her body screaming otherwise. “Can’t wait.”

She continued throughout the morning as normal as she could be, even though she was shaking. When noon hit, Nesta called out to Elain who was lounging in the living room waiting for Azriel to come over.

"I'm think I’m going to go to the gym." She willed her voice not to shake.

"Okay, have fun!" Elain exclaimed from the other room.

Nesta had purchased a gym membership to Illyria last week, a pathetic effort at getting out of the apartment more often. She hadn't gone once yet. And either way, her only real plan was to use the hot tub. She couldn't remember the last time she exercised, and she had no intention of changing that.

After getting dressed and grabbing her bag, Nesta headed out.

The drive was quick; the gym was only a couple miles away. Once Nesta parked, she made her way inside the complex.

She forced a tight smile as she approached the woman who was working the front desk, scanning her membership card and continuing forward. Her mind was racing, and she prayed that there wouldn't be many people there. It was a Tuesday afternoon. She doubted it.

Nesta was weaving her way past the space dedicated to boxing to get to the locker rooms when she heard a familiar voice ahead of her.

She instinctively turned her head to see who it was, only to find Cassian standing next to a punching bag, his face breaking out into a grin as he talked to a very beautiful woman.

She was small, several inches shorter than Nesta. Her copper chestnut hair was pulled back into an elegant ponytail, and her hands were on her hips as she attentively listened to Cassian speak. She seemed captivated by whatever he was saying, probably some bullshit meant to charm her.

Nesta didn't think twice as she discreetly did a 180 and started walking the opposite way, desperate to avoid him especially after the night in the laundry room. That'd been the last time she'd seen him, and she didn't want to talk about it. Not with him or anyone else. Even though she'd opened up to him, that didn't mean they were friendly. In fact, it was the complete opposite. She was determined to keep him at arm's length now. Nesta had cursed herself the morning after those events had transpired. She was so stupid to tell him what she did. It was just because she had been severely sleep-deprived, and she had felt bad for him. It wouldn't happen again.

So, she slowly slinked away, praying to the Gods that he didn't notice her.

Her plan was going smoothly until she heard her name.

"Nesta?"

Her shoulders stiffened. Fuck.

She brought herself to a painstaking stop and turned around to see Cassian jogging over to her.

"Hey," he greeted as he approached. He seemed cautious, like he didn't want to scare her off. "I didn't realize you went to Illyria."

"I don't," Nesta replied quickly. He waited for her to say more, but she just blinked up at him.

"Well," he drawled, looking back at the woman he had been talking with. "I'm just about to start a training session." Ah, he works here. She wondered what he did in his free time. "Do you want to join? The first session is free."

Nesta looked to where the woman was methodically wrapping her hands in what looked like Ace bandages. She was more stunning than Nesta originally thought. She wouldn't be at all surprised if Cassian hooked up with his trainees. Especially if they looked like that.

"No, I'm - "

But Cassian wasn't having it. "Gwyn!" he called out, gesturing her to come to where they stood.

"What the hell are you doing?" Nesta hissed, her heart rate spiking as she watched the woman, Gwyn, make her way toward them.

Cassian ignored her, continuing to smile. The bastard.

As Gwyn made her way over, Nesta did her best to put on a friendly face. She was pretty sure she was just grimacing.

"Hi! I'm Gwyn," she introduced herself with a bubbly voice. She looked Nesta up and down. "You must be Nesta. I've heard a lot about you."

Nesta threw Cassian a sideway glare. He'd been talking about her? No doubt complaining about her horrible attitude.

Cassian winked at the look she gave him before turning to Gwyn. "Gwyn, why don't you tell Nesta a little bit about what we do while I go get some equipment from the back? Then we can get started."

Nesta opened her mouth to object, but Cassian was gone before she could even blink. Groaning inwardly, she reluctantly faced Gwyn who was smiling softly at her.

"Well, I assume you know that Cassian is a trainer," she started with an awkward laugh.

Nesta stared at her.

Gwyn continued to smile despite Nesta's coldness. "He actually created this program, Wings of Resilience, a couple years ago. He offers discounted training lessons for people who deal with PTSD. It's helped a lot of people. Cassian mainly teaches kickboxing, but in the past he's taken in some older veterans who aren't really able to do high cardio activities, so he guides them through yoga practices. Everyone here adores him," Gwyn giggles and leans in. "Especially the older ladies who come in every week for their exercise class."

She kept talking, but Nesta was no longer listening. The room suddenly felt tiny, the air stifling. What Gwyn told her triggered her fight or flight instincts. She didn’t know why, she just knew she couldn’t breathe, and if she didn’t leave now, she was going to have a full-blown panic attack in the middle of a room full of people.

“Are you okay?”

Nesta’s eyes shot up from her shaking hands to see Gwyn take a cautious step forward, her eyes wide with something that resembled concern. Nesta nearly let out a hysterical laugh. Gwyn and Cassian - they were such good people. How did they even pretend to give a shit about someone like Nesta?

"I-I need to go,” Nesta blurted, eyes scanning the room for the nearest exit.

"I know it's a lot to consider," Gwyn said quietly. She looked down at her feet. "But it's really helped me."

No, no, no.

Nesta didn't even realize she had started running until her lungs were burning from the exertion of energy. She ran and didn’t stop. She caught a flash of someone – Cassian’s – face as she sprinted past the lobby and outside, but she didn't look back. She couldn't.

The cold air was harsh against her lungs. She welcomed the burning sensation, gasping for more oxygen. Before Nesta could comprehend what was happening, she was spilling her guts on the sidewalk until she was dry heaving.

Passersby looked at her with disgust as they walked past, but Nesta couldn’t bring herself to care.

When there was nothing more to come out, Nesta wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and straightened herself. Every muscle in her body screamed. How she was able to stand, she had no idea. Nesta beelined to her car, locked the door, and speeded out of the parking lot before anyone could run after her.

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

That night, Nesta received a text from an unknown number.

Nesta, I asked Cassian for your phone number. I hope I didn’t overstep your boundaries. I just wanted to let you know that there will be a spot here if you want it. Please think about it. Gwyn

Her first instinct was to delete the text, cancel her membership to Illyria, and never face Gwyn - or Cassian for that matter - again. There was no way she was going to show her face in that gym again.

But despite everything, Nesta found herself saving Gwyn’s number into her contacts before she fell asleep.

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

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#nessian #bittersweet #nesta archeron #cassian #acotar #acomaf #acosf #a court of thorns and roses #a court of silver flames #my writing

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avnkin · 4 years

Text

The Pogues - Prologue

Pairing: jj maybank x fem!reader

Warnings: toxic relationship, swearing

Word count: 2k

Summary: You were a kook, born and raised but when a messy breakup with your boyfriend takes place you find comfort in the people who you’d been taught to despise and keep away from your entire life, the Pogues.

(A/N): Soooo here it is the prologue to my upcoming series i’ve literally been working on this for the last couple of days and the first chapters are almost finished but I just wanted to post this as a kind of introduction to the story and the life around Y/N,, and pleaseee don’t be afraid to give me any feedback I love when y’all come in my inbox (not my gif creds to the owner)

series masterlist

You were seated out on your patio opposite your mom and dad enjoying the nice weather, your tanned skin practically glistening in the sun rays “so Y/N, is Rafe going to be escorting you to Midsummers?” Your father asked, you groaned at the idea of even having to go there mostly at the part about Rafe being your escort “do I have to go” you frowned playing with the salad blades that lay untouched on the plate before you “we’ve already talked about this Y/N you’re going” he replied sternly, annoyance evident in his tone. Most of the time you could talk your way out of almost every single one of these events but since Ward was your fathers best friend and the event was practically being held in his honor you had to go otherwise it would ‘reflect badly on your father’s image’.

You and Rafe had been an on and off thing for about a year now, maybe even longer since it was hard to keep count of all the breakups, currently you guys were on another off stage after you’d found him and another girl going at it in his bedroom when you had planned to surprise him on his birthday but instead ended up crying yourself to sleep in Sarah’s room who held you as you sobbed and being the loyal friend she is she ended barging into her brothers room to yell at him as soon as you fell asleep.

You and Sarah were the same age and had been best friends long before you and Rafe got together, considering your fathers were close friends you spent almost everyday over at the Camerons when you were younger and now you two were glued at the hip, you didn’t know what you’d do without her since you’d done everything and anything together since the age of 3.

“Yeah well I don’t think Rafe’s gonna be my escort, we broke up” you stated blatantly, crossing your arms over your chest as you looked back up at your displeased father “come on Y/N can’t you fix it just for that night and then you never talk to him again I don’t care but it’ll look really bad for me if my daughter ditches my best friends son at an event that’s being held in his honor” you looked over at your mom hoping she would back you up since there was no way you were going to get out of this without her help, but instead she just sat there pretending not to notice your lingering glare.

“Fine i’ll fix it” you mumbled knowing that there was no point in arguing with your father “thank you sweetie” he smiled “whatever” you rolled your eyes pushing the chair out from behind you and making your way back inside and up to your room. Closing the door behind you, you sat down at the edge of your bed dreading dialing Rafe’s phone number since you really didn’t want to be the one crawling back after he cheated, you had some respect for yourself.

It’s for dad you thought as you pressed call on his contact your back colliding with your mattress as you felt your heart sink more and more with every ring. Just as you were about to hang up he answered “hey baby” the nickname made you sick to your stomach, did he have no recollection of your break up “can we talk?” you asked getting annoyed as you heard nothing but silence on the other end of the phone.

“Yeah uh i’ll be home in like ten minutes want me to pick you up or something?” he asked, it was obvious in the way he spoke that he had no interest in going out of his way to come get you, you rolled your eyes “no Rafe i’m perfectly capable of getting myself to your house by myself thank you very much” you spoke before hanging up groaning as you went and got dressed pulling a black hoodie over the white crop top you’d been wearing and struggling to get into your converse attempting to squeeze your heel into them as you trudged down the spiral staircase in your house.

You grabbed the keys to one of your dad’s cars, opening the front door you slammed it shut behind you making your anger evident to your mom and dad.

Walking out into the cool summer air you quickly unlocked the car and pulled the handle, opening the door and placing your self down into the drivers seat. You turned the engine on dreading the soon to be conversation with your ex boyfriend as you slowly backed out of your driveway and out onto the main road.

As you stood outside of the Cameron house you contemplated driving away and never looking back but knowing you’d have to face the wrath of your father if you did that was enough to make your knuckle connect with the door and slowly but surely tap onto it, seconds later Rafe’s deranged figure stood before you moving out of the way allowing you to walk in, you put on a fake smile as you followed him up to his room.

It was silent between the two of you when he closed the door behind him neither one of you knowing what to say as you both stood facing each other “Y/N i’m really sorry for what happened the other day I-I was drunk” he stumbled over his words the lie evident as sweat started to form at the top of his forehead “I don’t care, I don’t want to get back together” he looked puzzled at your words “then why are you here?” he questioned sitting down onto the bed that was placed in the middle of the room.

“We’re going to go to Midsummers together and then we’re over and you’ll never hear from me again” he simply sat there not giving you any reaction whatsoever, so you turned to walk out but before your hand could reach the door handle he grabbed you and pulled you back to him “so we’re over just like that?” he practically barked down at you fingers tightening around your wrist clearly not pleased with your words “yes, my dad just wants me to go to this stupid thing with you and I know you want to impress your dad just as much as I do mine so it’s a win win for both of us” ripping your hand out of his grasp you tried to read his facial expression but it was blank the part about his dad clearly striking a nerve within him “whatever” he stated coldly turning away from you. You had to admit it hurt after almost a year of being with him that he didn’t even try to stop you or fight for you, but what were you expecting it’s Rafe.

You exited his room tears profusely falling from your eyes, you weren’t crying because you guys we’re no longer together but because you had just now realized how toxic the entire relationship had been and you were more then disappointed in yourself for letting anyone treat you that way for that long.

You made your way down the stairs towards the front door but before you could reach it an arm grabbed you stopping you from moving any further, thinking it was Rafe you turned around prepared to cuss him out but immediately calmed down once you noticed Sarah standing before you, it was obvious by her facial expression that she knew something was up with you and Rafe.

“What happened?” She frowned as she pulled you into a tight hug, you quietly cried into her shoulder as your arms rested weakly on her waist. “I don’t know what I ever saw in him” you sniffled pulling away from the hug so you could look back up at her “you know what I don’t either” she smiled wiping away the few tears that continued making their way down your cheeks.

“Come on lets go do something” she smiled intertwining her hands with yours dragging you out of the house behind her “like what?” you asked opening the passenger side door of her car and stepping into it not to worried about leaving yours behind, you’d come and get it later. Sarah got into the drivers seat shortly after you “first we go eat, can’t do anything on an empty stomach” she replied putting the key in the ignition and turning the car on “there’s this place that I absolutely love it’s called The Wreck” she spoke as she exited the driveway “isn’t that the restaurant that Kiara’s parents own?” you questioned raising an eyebrow at her since Sarah had told you about their previous feud multiple times. “Yeah but i’m pretty sure she’s not working right now and either way it doesn’t matter if she is i’m a customer so i’m sure we’ll both keep things strictly professional” she huffed causing you to chuckle your mind quickly forgetting all about Rafe and his stupid antics.

As Sarah parked in front of the wreck she involuntarily groaned noticing Kiara and the rest of her Pogue friends all sitting in front of the entrance enjoying their fries and hamburgers some you recognized, some you didn’t. “Shit” Sarah mumbled “strictly professional” you joked copying her words from before, she lightly hit you in the shoulder before grabbing her purse and getting out of the car you following behind shortly after.

As you walked past the Pogues and toward the entrance all you received were dirty looks and glares especially from Kiara, the only one who wasn’t glaring was JJ who not so subtly let his eyes wander up and down your body, Kiara clearly noticed as she hit him in the back of the head scolding him, “what the hell” you heard him mumble as he rubbed the back of his head causing you to let out a small chuckle.

The only reason you knew who JJ was, was because of the multiple fights you had to break up between him and Rafe, you could never understand how two people could hate each other that much.

Turning away from them you followed Sarah inside the restaurant and just your luck you were seated right next to the window that was facing them, “Oh god” Sarah groaned hiding her face behind the menu that had been placed in front of her “she’s still staring” you looked over your shoulder, and sure enough you got a perfect look of Kiara’s face and oh boy if looks could kill you’d both be dead by now.

“Is this all seriously because you didn’t invite her to your birthday party?” you questioned turning back around “yup” Sarah replied resting her chin in her palm “I kind of miss her though she was fun to hang out with, you’d like her” Sarah smiled causing you to look back one more time making direct eye contact with JJ who subtly winked at you, you felt heat rising to your cheeks and quickly turned away eyes diverting to the menu in front of you.

“So what do you wanna do when we finish eating?” you asked looking up at Sarah who only gave a shrug in response “you wanna go buy some dresses for Midsummers, I literally have nothing to wear?” she groaned taking a sip of her water giving you a hopeful look “sure” you chuckled looking out the window once more only to see the Pogues were no longer there, you felt slightly disappointed at the lost sight of the Maybank boy.

I’m gonna make a tag list for this series so let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters!! xx

#jj maybank #jj x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj obx #jj #jj outer banks #outer banks #outer banks netflix #outer banks fanfiction #jj maybank x reader #outer banks imagine #kiara #john b #pope #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine

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nikthehybrid · 3 years

Text

The Beauty Within: Chapter One

Here is the first chapter, finally! Thank you @damonsbitchx for helping with this story! And thank you @bonnbonnbennett for having patience while I take forever to post this!

TW: Lucien Castle is a canon typical creep.

Link to the prologue at the end.

3,198 words

Chapter One

Lucien Castle sauntered down the main road of New Orleans. Everything seemed pathetic compared to the luxury he was used to living in. He smirked at the various women who ogled him as he walked by. Nothing stroked his ego more than the adoration of those around him. His near constant companion, Marcel Gerard, was kept around because he kept up a steady flow of compliments. As he wandered around, the most beautiful woman in the French Quarter walked right in front of him without bothering to pull her nose from the book.

“Marcel, that woman, right there is perfect for me. She’s gorgeous,” Lucien declared. Marcel raised his eyebrows in shock. He couldn’t believe that Lucien thought he had half a chance with Camille O’Connell. She was entirely too smart to be seduced by the likes of Lucien.

“I wouldn’t say perfect for you. She’s an independent thinker you know. Don’t let her appearance fool you, she can handle herself,” Marcel said with a slight chuckle, though he wasn’t surprised that Lucien didn’t listen to a word he said.

Camille continued walking, mildly aware of where she was going. She was used to being talked about by now, but that’s not to say she didn’t still hear the hushed voices and quiet giggles when she walked around the city. She subtly glanced in Marcel’s direction upon hearing his quip, smiling to herself. She couldn’t see why every young woman in town fawned over Lucien, the appeal just wasn’t there. She didn’t dwell on the subject too long most days, she had far more interesting topics to think about.

Marcel could see the irritation building in Lucien that Camille had ignored him so blatantly. It made his stomach twist with fear but he stayed quiet. It was better to live in fear than to be hated by such a volatile man. He was known to have a temper and little patience for those who did not live to serve him.

“You know what, how about I go talk to her for you? Maybe she’s just intimidated by you,” he said, trying to sound as much like an admirer as possible. Lucien smirked at him and nodded before strutting off to one of the local pubs where he was well known. Marcel pulled a face when the man was out of sight before he hurried to catch up with Camille.

“Sorry about him. I would say he’s harmless, but we all know that’s not true. He seems to be wanting to go back to war and I would say good riddance if he would actually leave,” he said to Camille as he followed her. Camille listened as Marcel talked, the things he said being mildly amusing. She continued to walk but she did put her book down to her side.

“I’m definitely used to it, but I have to ask, if that’s how you really feel about him why do you continue to hang around him?” She glanced at him briefly, her eyebrows raised. Marcel let out a sigh.

“It’s not something I’m proud of, but I don’t have anyone else in life. He’s been a friend since childhood and after my father was killed I just stayed around him,” he said with a sad sigh. He looked around and tried to make it obvious that he wasn’t trying to hit on her. Then Marcel cleared his throat. “Sorry, I’m not just trying to follow you. But I will leave you to be on your way. I will tell Lucien you didn’t engage with me. I apologize if he comes knocking at your door.” He quickly veered off another street and walked in the direction of the pub that Lucien had entered. Marcel couldn’t help but feel incredibly awkward being the perceived middle man. His favorite solution was to disappear until he was able to collect his train of thought.

“Thank you,” she responded as he was walking off though she wasn’t convinced he heard her words. She frowned to herself but decided not to let the men consume any more of her energy.

Yet as she started walking again, Camille went back to reading as she walked towards Rousseau’s. She’d not met many kind people in the city but Marcel was a surprising exception. Upon arrival at her job, she quickly shoved her book into her bag and clocked in but she still found her mind wandering to Marcel. She had an overwhelming desire to help him. Lucien was a snake and it would break her heart to see a man like Marcel be corrupted by such evil.

As Camille walked behind the bar, Lucien gracefully entered Rousseau’s, perfectly timed as he had intended, and sat down at the bar. He watched Camille like a hawk as she served various patrons as they came and went. He didn’t care much that Marcel had told him she was uninterested. Lucien knew without a doubt how his friend really felt about him and knew he would never set a potential new friend up with him. So he intended to speak to Camille and sort everything out, to show her that he wasn’t the villain of the story.

“Camille! Darling, I was wondering if I could have a quick little word,” he said loudly. He smiled at her but as he watched her walk towards him the smile turned to a smirk. Lucien chuckled as she attempted to pretend he was doing anything other than flirting with her. The longer he stared at her, the more it began to feel as if he were trying to stare her into some sort of submission. Slowly his grin turned predatory. “I’ll take a bourbon, neat. Do tell me what Marcel has told you about me that causes such an aversion to my charms.” He laughed a little as he waited for his drink. Lucien saw no point in hiding the fact that his ego was just as inflated as his wallet.

“I’ll be right back with that,” she replied with a stiff smile. She hoped to dodge his question entirely by the time she turned with his drink. While at the bar, she served a couple other quick customers while she poured Lucien’s drink and then hurried back over with his drink in hand. She set it on a square white napkin on the bar and glanced at him. “Anything else I can get you?” Lucien scoffed at her attitude and rolled his eyes.

“I honestly would like to know what is so repulsive about me. I could give you a very good life. You would never have to work at this wretched establishment ever again,” he drawled, sipping his bourbon, “just have one drink with me, that’s all it will take for me to change your life. I promise I’m really not so bad.”

“Look, you are a perfectly handsome man and clearly you have a decent amount of charm. I’m happy for you. You’re just going to have to accept that your charm and good looks aren’t for everyone. Now, is there anything else I can get for you? I do have other patrons waiting on my service,” Camille snapped. She stared at him wondering where all that had come from. She definitely didn’t plan on saying any of it, but she didn’t regret the words and the truths that they held. Lucien stared at her with his mouth slightly agape. No one ever spoke to him that way, especially a woman. He sneered at her and tossed back his bourbon. He threw a wad of bills at her and stood in one fluid motion.

“Keep the change. It’s not worth my time to pick it up,” he said. He turned on his heel and stormed out of the bar.

She winced as the bills flew at her face and rolled her eyes at his response. Her eyes followed him as he stomped out. She felt relieved knowing there was a good chance he wouldn’t come back anytime soon. The bewildered stares from customers pulled her quickly back to reality, so she bent down to collect the money and swept the napkin along with the glass from the table. Then, she rushed back behind the bar.

Kieran O’Connell had been on his way home when he saw Lucien in the bar where his niece worked. Narrowing his eyes, he walked into Rousseau’s passing closely to Lucien as he did. He wrinkled his nose in disgust at the other man before he approached the counter. Being a priest didn’t mean he had to pretend to like weasels like Lucian. He gave his niece a soft smile before accepting the glass of water she gave to him.

“I just wanted to stop by and say that I was going to be heading out of town for a bit. I am traveling to another town to help get a new church up and running,” he said with another big smile. “I would ask if you’re going to be okay, but I see that you can handle yourself just fine.”

“Of course I’ll be okay,” she laughed softly and smiled up at him while she wiped down the bar. “How long are you going for this time?” She wasn’t used to being alone most of the time, but she didn’t see her uncle too often to warrant not being fine while he was out of town. Still, she would worry about him nonetheless. They looked out for each other, so she felt like it was her job to take care of him to an extent. Kieran shrugged a little bit.

“I’m hoping it won’t be more than a week. It depends on their congregation size and needs,” he explained. He looked around the bar and noticed that everyone was leaving Camille alone except for Lucien. “Do I need to have a talk with Mr. Castle about harassing you? I don’t want that to become a regular thing you have to deal with. Especially when Marcel sits back and does nothing.” She frowned, glancing around briefly as she cleaned glasses and put them in their places.

“Marcel is kind, he tries his best. I can see that. Lucien just comes on a little strong, it’s nothing I can’t handle. I’m fine, I promise,” she said as she smiled reassuringly at him. The last thing she wanted was to worry him before he left town. She truly was fine for now. Kieran cocked his eyebrow at her but only nodded. He knew that she would be okay, he was just overly protective. After her brother had spiraled into a voodoo induced psychosis, he did his best to keep an eye on her.

“Well you are better at seeing the good in people than I am,” he chuckled softly finishing off his glass of water. Then he stood and put his hat on. “I will see you in a week Camille. Keep out of trouble.” Kieran smiled and walked out of the bar. He knew she was too much of a free spirit to stay totally away from trouble.

Marcel nodded to Kieran as he walked into the bar and gave him a slight nod. Then he took a seat on the stool that the priest had just vacated. He was holding the left side of his face and he kept his head bowed as he ordered a drink from the other bartender. She laughed softly and waved goodbye to her uncle then moved down the bar to help a couple other customers. After a few minutes she spotted Marcel and shuffled back over.

“Hey, Marcel,” she greeted him with a smile. “You just missed Lucien.” Marcel looked up at Camille and revealed his bloody lip along with his eye that was swelling shut. He let out a humorless laugh.

“Unfortunately I didn’t miss him entirely. But I have to say your attitude towards him is refreshing, even if it means getting punched,” he said, though the look in his eyes said that he didn’t find it nearly as funny as he was trying to pretend. Camille gasped seeing his wounds, cupping her hand over her mouth.

“Oh my god, Marcel, Lucien did that?” Camille gasped as she frantically grabbed a clean towel, dumping some ice into it and handing it to him with a concerned frown. “The next time I see that man he’s going to get a piece of my mind, Marcel, this isn’t okay. I’m so sorry.” Marcel quickly reached out and put his hand over her small one. He gently shook his head as he pressed the ice to his face, wincing ever so slightly.

“Don’t. Camille, I’m begging you, just leave it alone. Don’t make him angry and eventually he will lose interest and move on to someone else. It’s okay, it’s not like this is the first time he’s kicked the shit out of me,” he said softly. “It’s nothing compared to what my father used to do.” She sighed in frustration, frowning as she inspected his eye.

“Marcel,” she pleaded. “That’s not good enough, you need to get away from him. I’m not going to just sit by while he abuses you.” She continued cleaning while she spoke, coming back over to inspect his wounds ever so often. Marcel shook his head at the idea of her confronting Lucien. He knew the man very well and worried that he would hurt Camille in some violent way or another.

“Please listen when I tell you to let this go. I don’t want him to hurt you. And before you say anything yes, I know you can handle yourself. If it were anyone else I would worry,” he said, dropping his voice to a whisper. She stood in silence, wiping the counter before she responded.

“Fine, I’ll let it go if you agree to let me help you,” Camille insisted. She eyed Marcel curiously, hoping he would accept her help. She gently reached out, taking the towel of ice from him, replacing it with a fresh one she’d just made. Marcel gave her a weary stare. He didn’t want to risk that Lucien might hurt Camille, but he also knew that she was extremely persistent and he knew she wouldn’t give up anytime soon. It would be better to know what her plans were as opposed to worrying she might go off on her own to confront Lucien.

“We can discuss things over dinner,” he agreed. “But! That does not mean I am accepting your help on the spot. All it means is that I am willing to discuss our options.” Camille stared back at him for a couple moments, contemplating his offer.

“Deal, I’m free tonight after I get off,” she said as she tilted her head, and smiled cheekily before moving down the bar again to help some customers.

Marcel chuckled and finished off his drink. He really liked Camille. She was a genuinely good person which was hard to find. He ordered a bit of food and ate while he waited for her shift to end. It seemed safer to stay in Rousseau’s as opposed to braving Lucien’s wrath in some dark alley all alone.

At long last, Camille emerged from the back room with her jacket draped over her arm and her bag in hand. The last few hours had passed surprisingly quickly which had come as a welcome surprise. Normally the shift that ended as the parties began seemed the longest. However, she was glad the be escaping the commotion of Bourbon Street for her quiet apartment a few blocks over.

“So, are we staying in or going out?” She beamed, stopping next to where he was sitting. Marcel stood slowly and smiled.

“Staying in sounds like a better option. I’m not in the mood to entertain the rest of society,” he chuckled. He offered his arms teasingly to Camille. “My lady.” Marcel dramatically bowed to her. Camille laughed softly, taking his arm.

“I like your thinking, kind sir,” she humored his act energetically. “You can call me Cami, by the way. My friends call me that.”

“What brings you to our lovely cursed city, Cami?” He joked lightly as he led the way out into the street. As they walked he was continually surveying things to make sure that Lucien wasn’t following them. He wasn’t in the mood to get his ass kicked twice in one day.

“I moved here to be closer to my uncle after my brother... passed away,” she replied, trailing off. She clung to his elbow, noticing how tense he was. She glanced around briefly, observing different people walking the street. “Have you lived here all your life?” Marcel nodded as he continued to make sure he didn’t recognize anyone around them as Lucien’s clique.

“I grew up here and then lived on the streets for a time after, well after some shit happened anyway. Then I got old enough and got a job. When I met Lucien he sucked me in with never being hungry or worrying about a place to live,” he said quietly. “I didn’t realize what he was until it was too late.”

“What he was? I mean, I can see why you feel indebted to him, but you deserve to be treated with respect, Marcel. You always have a choice, especially when you have friends,” she said as she squeezed his elbow gently.

“He’s exactly like my father. It’s why I didn’t notice how bad things were until recently when I started becoming the person he was taking his rage out on,” Marcel said. He let out a pained sigh and gave her a sad smile. “I do deserve respect, but I can’t seem to convince myself of that until someone else points it out.” Camille frowned when he smiled at her.

“I wish there was something I could do. There has to be some way to run him out of town or something. I see him in Rousseau’s all the time hitting on girls and I just--” she trailed off. “What is he even doing here?” Marcel let out a heavy sigh.

“He’s here simply to entertain himself. Though I have a sneaking suspicion he’s looking for something in particular. He’s started shutting me out which can only mean that whatever he has planned is going to be catastrophic,” he whispered. Then he stopped suddenly. “Cami, isn’t that your uncle’s horse?” He pointed to the horse galloping towards them at a breakneck speed, momentarily forgetting about Lucien. She furrowed her eyebrows as she observed the change in his expression. She whipped her head around at his words, staring in horror. Quickly, she let go of his arm and walked a few feet forward with her hands out.

“Woah woah!” She cried out as the horse skidded to a stop just a foot from her. He was wildly disturbed, anxiously bouncing around and grunting. He had fear in his eyes, she could see it as she grabbed his face to try and calm him down. She glanced back at Marcel in distress, wondering what she should do or where her uncle was.

#the originals #the vampire diaries #beauty and the beast #fanfic #camille o'connell #klaus mikaelson #tvd

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kayparker20 · 4 years

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To Honor Sensei - Chapter 3

Chapter 3 - Dinner at Kurenai’s

FFN | AO3

It’s been a couple years now. Kakashi mostly had the parenting thing down, with his quirks and oddities mixed in of course. Naruto was almost always a happy child, excited to do just about anything. He was good friends with Shikamaru and Choji, and even their friend Ino. Obviously he made friends with all three being as those clans are so close.

At this moment, Kakashi was lounging in his bed, reading one of Jiraiya’s books. He figured since now the profit from them paid for a lot of his life, he might as well read them as a thanks. However, it was never mentioned by Jiraiya that his series was smutty. But it was also witty and humorous, and had a decent plot line aside from the porn. None of that stopped Kurenai from glaring at him when he had them public though.

Naruto had been in his bed, playing with some stuffed fox that Kakashi got him. He couldn’t help getting him fox things, most of them were adorable. Might not be the only reason.

“Kashi!” Naruto called out from his bed.

The white haired nin smiled softly before meandering over to Naruto’s bedside. “What’s up, kiddo?”

He watched Naruto as he beamed in his little fox onesie. The irony wasn’t lost on Kakashi, it was the whole reason he bought it. He was happy when Choza found it just as humorous.

“Hungry.” Naruto stated blunty. “Noodles?”

The toddler bounced on the bed, propelled with his excitement at the mere thought of ramen. He watched Kakashi with big wide eyes that were the colour of the sky.

Kakashi watched him with interest before shaking his head and laughing softly.

He brought home Ichiraku one time, and now no other food exists to his little brother. “Naruto, you do know there is food besides ramen, right?”

Naruto frowned and huffed. “Chouji likes red food.”

“You mean barbeque, right?” Kakashi chuckled once more before swooping him up in his arms. “Besides, your Aunt Kurenai is making dinner and inviting everyone over to eat.”

Naruto’s blue eyes brightened. “Kurkur!”

“Yes, Kurkur. Now let’s get you dressed, huh? Wouldn’t want to be late, now would we?”

As if they weren’t already.

He set the voracious boy down. “Go use the bathroom first, remember? Always go before we leave.”

Naruto toddled into the bathroom and proceeded to use his little kid toilet.

Kakashi gathered up a set of clothes. A yellow shirt with the Uzumaki emblem on the front in red, and the Hatake fields on the back in black. A pair of black pants and sandals. Naruto came out of the bathroom and sat on his bed eagerly.

“Kashi?”

The nin hummed in response at the child’s inquiry as he began redressing him, which was a struggle being as Naruto never wanted to stay still. It had become a silent game(or struggle) the two began to play over the years. “One of these days, very, very soon, you’re gonna learn to dress yourself. He grumbled softly under his breath.

“Choji and Shika be there?”

Kakashi shrugged. “I’m not sure, but maybe.” He slid his shirt over his head and shimmied his pants onto his legs. “Now come on, get your shoes on.”

Naruto gladly put on his shoes and ran for the door. Kakashi silently followed him and down the stairs of the apartment complex. Once they got outside, Naruto stopped and looked up at Kakashi. His eyes were less vibrant now, uncertainty and even fear lying in them.

Seeing those emotions cross his usually cheery little brother always brought a discomfort to him, but he couldn’t do much to stop it besides comforting him.

Kakashi held out his hand and Naruto grabbed it tightly. He stayed close to Kakashi’s leg as they walked through the village. Kakashi hated how as soon as they left home, his enthusiasm seemed to dull. At least until they reach the destination, like Choza’s or Kurenai’s.

Despite the hokage making it clear Naruto was a hero, and should be remembered as such, of course the villagers couldn’t see it that way. As Naruto got old enough, the Hokage put out an order to not talk about the fox attack in relation to Naruto, as well as a young child being the Fourth’s son. It was done to protect Naruto, from inside and outside of the village.

It angered Kakashi, but now it was different. Naruto could see how people kept their distance from them. The glares, the fear, all that judgement. He didn’t understand it, but it hurt him. The words people dared to throw in the direction of a two year old, who literally doesn’t know anything about the why. Who is literally just an innocent, bubbly little kid. Who isn’t at fault for the circumstances he had at his birth.

“Demon!” A trader.

“Stay away from that child, Ayame!” A mother.

“Don’t come near me!” Another trader.

People shamelessly shying away from them, avoiding them blatantly. Glares, looks of disgust, of fear.

It continues.

Kakashi openly scowled at every single person who dared vocalize their judgements. He felt a burning anger in his chest, taking everything in him to not retaliate back with his own thoughts of their character.

“Naruto!” A cheerful tone.

Kakashi looked towards the noise, before raising his eyebrows. He was pretty sure he had never seen someone who had naturally pink hair, and this was a toddler, so it almost had to be natural. He hadn’t recognized her, but he knew the blonde girl holding her hand was none other than Ino Yamanaka. Obviously Naruto knew her from his time at the Akimichi’s house, just like he knew Shikamaru Nara for the same reason.

“Sakura! Ino!” Naruto’s eyes were excited and he instantly let go of Kakashi's hand to run towards the pair of girls.

Kakashi grinned under his mask. Of course the girl with pink hair is named Sakura. It’s almost too cliche. She sported a red bow tied in her hair.

Kakashi followed, easily keeping up with him and waved at Inoichi. “Yo.”

Inoichi nodded with a small smile. “We’re headed to Kurenai’s. Choza said to make sure I brought friends for Naruto.”

Kakashi gave an eye crease towards the clan head. “Of course he did. I’m glad.”

Kakashi watched the three little kids as they talked and chatted as best they could. “Who’s the one with the pink hair?”

Inoichi shrugged. “Ino just met her at the park a couple months ago and they made quick friends.”

The group continued walking on to Kurenai’s.

Kakashi and his friends were all about 15-16 now. Kurenai just got her own place and makes a fuss about her friends coming over every so often. She makes a point to have a little mini family out of their few friends.

“Naruto, you’re goofy!” Sakura giggled and held his hand lightly.

Naruto just smiled and kept walking until he recognized Kurenai’s house. “Kurkur!”

She was standing outside, and knelt down as Naruto ran towards her and she swept him up in her arms. “Hi, Naruto! How are you doing?”

He bounced in her arms and kissed her face before hugging her back tightly. “I’m doing good!” He never once lost hold of him, not only being a ninja, but very accustomed to Naruto’s rambunctious nature.

“That’s good!” She pinched his cheek. She looked at Kakashi, and then to Inoichi with the two girls.

She nodded towards her door. “Choji and Shikamaru are here with Choza-sensei and Shikaku. Plenty of food for everyone!”

Inoichi motioned for the girls to run inside as Kurenai set Naruto down to follow them. Once the kids were out of ear shot, Inoichi looked to Kakashi.

“The villagers. They still don’t accept them, don’t they?”

Kakashi stiffened at the question before Kurenai sighed.

“That explains why you seem to be scowling. What happened?”

The silver haired ninja scoffed. “The usual. Calling him a demon, mothers shuffling their children away. Except now, he understands it. Well, somewhat. Enough for me to see the hurt look on his face.”

Inoichi nodded sadly. “I saw you guys before Sakura spotted you. He clings to you so tightly. At least he has you.”

Kakashi’s expression softened. “He has more than me.” As if on queue, he heard the children squeal with excitement, giggling of all kinds following.

Inoichi smiled as he laughed softly. “I was just dropping the girls off. Ibiki needs me for Intelligence. Choza will take them back home.”

Kurenai and Kakashi walked into the house to the site of toy ninja warfare. Kakashi’s eyes widened as he saw the little rubber kunai and shuriken being thrown and dodged about the living room. One bounced off Naruto's forehead and landed on the floor, just for him to pick up the now unclaimed piece of rubber.

“Kashi! It’s like yours!” Naruto held up a kunai, beaming with joy before throwing it, horribly incorrect, at Shikamaru.

Shikaku just laughed at his lazy boy who grumbled in response.

“Shika, get up! Play with us!” Ino stamped her foot at the young Nara.

Kakashi watched the little group of children playing together, and how not one of them was told to stay away from Naruto. Not one of them shying away from him. All of them just being kids, well. As much as kids could be such as ninjas. It was only a matter of time before they would be going to the academy, and sometimes he wondered if he should send Naruto.

Gai was next to him before he knew it, distracted by the sight of the children. “Just what you always hoped for Naruto, isn’t it, Kakashi?” He patted him on the back. “He’ll always have you. But he has them now too, he’ll never be alone.” He smiled way too bright in Kakashi’s opinion but he just nodded softly.

Kurenai started getting plates out to start portioning out the rice and chicken she had made. “Put the kids at the table.”

Kakashi helped set the table up for the kids. “Mini nins, food is ready!”

Asuma came inside with a bag in each hand, smelling of smoke before smiling. “I have fresh squeezed lemonade!”

“Cool!” Choji said as he ran up to be the first to sit at the table.

All the kids sat at the table together and blew on their food as they ate. Asuma poured them small glasses of lemonade to give to each kid. “There you go!” He ruffled Naruto’s hair affectionately.

As the kids sat in the kitchen everyone sat in the living room to eat their portion.

Kakashi was brimming with happiness, true and full emotion. Ever since he took in his sensei’s son, he’d felt a little happier. But seeing this, feeling like they were at a family gathering, hearing him giggle and laugh and chatter with other kids, warmed his heart. The thing he thought both he and Naruto had lost the night he was born, it was right here in front of them.

“This… This is what Sensei would have wanted for him.” He said softly as his eyes were glued to the children at the table.

Shikaku and Choza nodded softly. “You’re doing well, Kakashi. We’re proud of you, and he would be too.” The elder Nara said.

He knew it meant something, that Nara didn’t put out compliments and comfort very often. He could be a bit of the rougher kind. He always wanted to think he was doing well, because he did his best to take care of Naruto every single day. Even when the little boy acted like such a brat, he just reminded himself that Minato took care of him. And Kakashi knew he was far from easy.

“Won’t be long before those little ones are at the academy. This upcoming generation is something. Every clan has a kid that will be in the same class, plus a few.” Choza mused.

“You know it’s going to us that will be their sensei.” Kurenai said softly. “Wouldn’t it be funny if they put Naruto on your team?”

Kakashi shrugged. “It’s not like I won’t be training him at home, right?” His exposed eye creased in response. “Speaking of, I need to know where those toys came from.”

Shikaku laughed. “I found them at the weapons district. I thought it was funny but those kids sure love them.”

“Kashi!” Naruto called from the table.

Kakashi looked towards his brother, who had the brightest little smile on his face. He held the fork in his hand, a piece of chicken on the prongs. His eyes were filled with so much joy. It was one of the happiest moments for Kakashi.

“What is it, Naruto?” He inquired from his spot on the floor.

“Dinner is good!” Naruto giggled before turning back to continue eating.

Kurenai smiled and Kakashi just shook his head amiably. “Tell Kurenai that, she cooked it, kiddo.”

Kurenai got up from her spot and placed a kiss on Naruto’s forehead. “I’m glad you like it hon.”

Soon after the kids finished eating and found their way back to the living room.

Another rubber ninja war started between them. Kakashi tried to show Naruto how to handle a kunai correctly, but his little brother just throwing it like a ball. Kakashi shook his head with a small laugh as one of the rubber toys bounced off his head.

“I’m sorry, Kakashi!” Ino squeaked softly.

He ruffled the girls hair. “You’re okay, Ino. It was a decent shot.”

They sat around the floor, all laying against Kakashi. Clearly, it was definitely nap time. He laid on the floor as Naruto nestled into his side. The other followed, all clinging to the copy nin in some form. As soon as their snores started, his own followed not too long after.

Kurenai took a picture, promising Shikamaru and Choza to get copies for them and Inoichi as well. She fetched a blanket to drape over them all and sat on the couch next to Asuma, very pleased.

“It’s just like a little family. If anyone would nap with the children, of course it would be Kakashi, huh?” Asuma shrugged and laughed quietly.

Choza smiled kindly before it turned sad. “It’s a shame that the majority of the village still continues to treat Naruto poorly. He is the very reason we even survived that night.”

Shikaku shook his head. “People will forever judge what they fear, and they fear what they don’t understand.” He looked down, seeing how Ino, Choji, and Shikamaru cuddled on one side of Kakashi, while Naruto and Sakura were on the other. “I’ll bet he’ll be one hell of a ninja, one day, all of them will. Especially with your generation training them.” He grinned.

A knock sounded on the door and Kurenai looked in it’s direction curiously. “I didn’t think anyone else was coming. Maybe it’s Genma?” The chocolate haired women got up from her seat and went to open the door.

A red lined face with a lecherous smile greeted her happily. “The Third told me if Kakashi wasn’t home, it was likely he was here.”

“Jiraiya ,it’s been a long time.” Shikaku spoke from the couch as he heard the familiar voice.

Kurenai smiled and opened the door. “He’s here, currently napping with a clan full of children!”

She led him into her house and into the living room, showcasing the scene of a napping Kakashi with a bunch of toddlers curled up to him.

Jiraiya smiled softly, before shaking his head. “I just wanted to check in on Naruto. He’s gotten so big!”

Kurenai nodded softly. “There’s some chicken and rice in the kitchen if you would like some.”

Jiraiya nodded as he got himself some food. “You know, I have a picture of Minato somewhere napping just like that with his team…” Jiraiya spoke softly. “When he had first got Kakashi, Obito, and Rin. Except Kakashi isn’t exactly cuddling but he refused any sort of physical contact.” The elder nin chuckled softly.

He sat down and ate his serving. “How is Kakashi, himself?”

He turned his gaze towards his friends.

“Kakashi is so much better. He takes Naruto to clean Rin and Obito’s graves. And to the fourth’s grave.” Gai gushed. “It’s terribly saddening to Kakashi that Naruto can’t know the fourth was his father, but he tells Naruto everyday how much his parents love him.” His eyes were tearing up with passion.

Asuma sighed before looking at Jiraiya. “He’s doing pretty good, considering. I’d actually say he shows more emotions now than before,” The young Sarutobi laughed. “He adores Naruto.”

Kurenai nodded in affirmation of the first two’s words. She looked at Choza and Shikaku. “He really started to get better once Naruto got some friends, starting Choji, which obviously led to Ino and Shikamaru as well.”

Jiraiya smiled. “Of course Kakashi started with Choza.” He laughed softly. “You’re probably the least intimidating leader of the clans.”

“Choza-sensei is wonderful and kind hearted, and he would have never turned Naruto away!” Gai proclaimed, causing his sensei to laugh.

Kakashi slowly opened his eyes, and began to carefully extract himself from the future ninjas around him. He rubbed his exposed eye bleary, before seeing Jiraiya. His eyes widened in surprise before he gave an eye crease.

“Yo.” He waved softly before standing up. “Did you know they make rubber kunai toys?”

Jiraiya looked at the teen before shaking his head and laughing obnoxiously. “I did, most ninja families buy them for their kids.”

“Naruto refuses to even try throwing it correctly.” Kakashi sighed.

He looked down at Naruto, or rather all of the children as a warmth filled his heart. “They’re all just so…”

“Innocent.” Shikaku finished with a smile. “They haven’t seen anything cruel this world has to offer, like we have.”

Kakashi sighed softly before looking at Jiraiya. “Is something up? You don’t usually visit without a purpose.”

“Actually, nothing is wrong now. I just wanted to see the kiddo, and check on you.”

Kakashi nodded softly. Looking down at Naruto, made him wish for Minato at this moment. How it should be him and Kushina enjoying moments like this, not him. Jiraiya checks on them, not him. Naruto probably would be at the Uchiha’s clan’s house right now, because Kushina and Mikoto were such good friends. Sometimes he wondered if he should reach out to them, but then he remembered they all have a distrust for him. That some of them think he stole Obito’s eyes…

“What’s with the sudden forlorn look?” Shikaku asked.

Kakashi sighed softly before shaking his head. “Nothing, just… It’s nothing.”

Kakashi gently picked up Naruto. The toddler grumbled softly in his sleep but did not wake up. “It was nice coming over dinner and watching him play with his friends. Thank you, everyone.” He paused before giving an eye crease and walking out of Naruto’s house.

Kurenai paused before sighing softly. “There’s moments like this, where he checks out for a second, and then leaves… They aren’t often, and I think it’s something specific.”

Jiraiya smiled sadly. “I think I know what it is…” He soon followed the young ninja back home.

#teen kakashi #naruto fanfiction #kayparkerwrites #family #kakashi and naruto #kakashi hatake #naruto uzumaki #fanfiction #baby naruto #to honor sensei

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5-falsehoods-phonated · 4 years

Text

Dee Little Snake

Series Summary: Janus uses age regression as a way to destress but has little control over it whenever he grows upset. Trying to keep a secret like that can be hard when you're only four years old, and thus family bonding ensues in a way nobody expected, least of all Deceit.

Chapter 2: Bottled Up

Chapter Summary: Janus finally gets his best friend back.

Warnings: crying

Taglist (ask to be added) @a-different-s1de

It took Janus a few days to join the others at the breakfast table again, twisting his gloves behind his door in an uncharacteristically nervous way as he sucked in a breath. He didn't have anything on him to break this time, unless things somehow turned violent and his bones became a target. Shaking his head he threw his shoulders back and relaxed his face into a neutral expression. He and Patton were attempting to fix things, his relationship with Virgil was...smoothing, Logan had never really had a problem with him and Remus was well, Remus. So that just left Roman who needed to be tread especially carefully around. The odds were certainly in his favor should another altercation occur around one of the others.

But...he had cried. He had lost his cool over a seemingly insignificant item and had been so close to being small in front of one of the worst people to be small with, princely image smeared in his head with anger and petty malice reserved solely for him. He knew he had messed up, insulting Roman the way he did but his name was so much more to him than just something to call if you needed something. A name held so much weight with each and every individual who learned it and used it. A name held the entire history of the individual with it, and to have it said with such flippant mocking in a moment of such desperate trust that would change things for everyone- the implications of the act were clear. Roman hated him.

With good reason, he mused as he took another breath and opened the door, he had used him as a means to an end in his desperation to get Thomas to listen to his own self preservation. Roman had no reason to forgive him for what he had done and he didn't expect him to. He did, however, expect a bit more tact from the royal. Ignoring him and throwing insults was one thing. Blatantly destroying his things without a care was another.

Roman was sitting at the table already writing something or other in an old sketchbook, Patton frying up bacon with an endearing level of concentration at the stove. He grabbed a regular glass from the cabinet and filled it water, stomach flipping at the thought of anything else. Patton offered him a bright smile but didn't say anything; Janus didn't miss the way his eyes flicked worriedly over to Roman.

Thankfully the creative facet paid him no mind, Janus taking his seat a couple chairs away to avoid intruding and hoping he wasn't in anyone else's spot. Hearing shuffling from the doorway he turned and locked eyes with Virgil, who froze momentarily before giving him a tentative nod and walking into the kitchen. Thankfully the awkward air was somewhat saved as a plate of eggs and bacon and toast was pushed under his nose, muttering out a small "Thank you" before shoveling slightly overcooked scrambled eggs into his mouth.

"Thanks Pat." Virgil plopped down heavily beside him, taking the empty space between him and Roman, and he had only a moment to be confused and grateful before a familiar thermos was set down in front of him. Turning to Virgil with bacon still halfway to his mouth he smiled as the other shrugged and looked away. "Rem and I were able to fix it so- yeah."

Hope fluttered in his chest even as Virgil refused to look at him. He knew it was a lot to hope for, to ask for- but he couldn't help but think maybe this could be their clean slate. Maybe Virgil really would want to talk things over with him, fix things, and they could go back to how they used to be. He shook his head minutely as he put his fork back down. No, not how things used to be. He realized now their relationship had always been a bit rocky. Maybe this time...they could make things better.

He had just opened his mouth to thank him when Roman scoffed loudly, reaching forward. "I still don't understand why this is even such a big deal to you. Are these-"

He was cut off as his hand was halted with a vice grip from the anxious side, who sat still and quiet not looking at anyone. "Lay off Princey."

Roman tugged at his arm. "I just-"

Virgil's head snapped up, eyeshadow black as pitch but with a glare that could kill a man if they weren't imaginary. "Don't."

It felt as if everyone and everything in the mindscape was holding their breath as Virgil's voice, distorted as it was, rang out with a finality not even Patton dared question. Janus saw the fatherly side tense and turn, ready to dispell the situation if need be, spatula held out in front of him but whether it was to use as an a weapon or a shield Janus couldn't guess. He felt words stick in his own throat as he cursed himself for not being quicker to come up with some witty remark, dish out a glare, hell even sink out in a fit of dramatics as he was want to do. Instead he sat frozen, wide eyed and slightly hunched behind Virgil.

Anxiety protecting Self Preservation, now where was the irony?

Roman stilled and swallowed loudly, fear passing over his features before an angrier expression took over. Ripping his arm away he stood abruptly and scowled. "Great. You too? I thought you hated him!"

Before anyone could say anything he turned sharply and stalked off, his door slamming loud enough moments later to make all three of them jump. Virgil's arm was still in the same position, fingers tensed around an arm that had long gone before he flexed them with a wince and buried himself in his breakfast without another word.

"Awe, look at the little tongues!" The gentle coo brought Janus' attention to Patton who had placed the rest of breakfast on two other plates and was now looking at the thermos with adoration. "I'm glad you were able to have it fixed, kiddo!"

"I- Patton I'm older than you?" The irony definitely wasn't lost this time as Patton shrugged and settled down gesturing to a plate without looking at him.

"Logan, good morning! I made you a plate and there's some coffee left in the pot still!"

"Thank you, Patton." Logan glanced over briefly and nodded towards Virgil and Janus before pouring himself a mug and sitting down to eat, the silence a bit more comfortable with the still angry prince gone from the table.

Breakfast was a quiet affair however, conversation stopping and starting at awkward intervals. Janus noticed Virgil eating a lot slower than he would normally but nobody commented on it. He watched as Logan then Patton got up, washed their dishes and left the kitchen to go and do whatever they did during the day, leaving him and Virgil alone.

Taking a breath and shoving the last bit of bacon in his mouth Virgil stood up finally and swiped both their plates for the sink. Surprised Janus simply watched as he scrubbed them off and put them away, turning and nodding towards the thermos.

"Still like apple juice?"

"I- yessss?" Janus grimaced as a nervous hiss left his mouth but if Virgil noticed he didn't comment, unscrewing the cap of the newly fixed cup and filling it with the juice.

"Okay." Virgil slid the thermos over to him and sat down across from him with a sigh. "I'm the last side in the world who ever wants to say this, but we need to talk. We can do it here, or wherever but...yeah."

Janus nodded slowly and reached over to grip the thermos, happiness bubbling up briefly to see it fixed and functional and void of shards digging into his hands. "You'd be most comfortable in your room right?"

"This isn't about me so it doesn't matter." Janus snapped his head up and squinted at the anxious side. His eyeshadow was a shade darker than usual and his sleeves were twisted in his fingers almost painfully. Pursing his lips he nodded again.

"Why don't we go to my room then. No one goes in it anyway and I just recently cleaned so it would be a neat environment. Tidy space equals a tidy mind and all that."

"Right." Virgil huffed out a laugh as he stood up. "Now a good time?"

"Of course." Janus had a feeling what this would be about but it didnt make it any easier. He didn't particularly like discussing his regression. There wasn't anything wrong with doing it or why he did it; it was just something that happened and though he would be loathe to the idea of the others knowing he was far from ashamed of it. It was just....he and Virgil hadn't spoken- really spoken- in such a long time. He knew this would be a serious conversation, especially since the closer they got to his room the darker his eyeshadow was getting, but the determined set to his face told Janus he wasn't getting out of this. He'd be proud of his former friend if he didn't feel so much like puking.

Opening the door he gestured inside, Virgil immediately curling up in the comfortable desk chair while Janus sat stiffly on the edge of the bed. They didn't make eye contact for a minute, the tension in the room so tight he could barely breathe. And then Virgil took a steadying breath and the air became easier to suck in again, reminding Janus with a start just how much influence Virgil had to his surroundings. While he waited for the atmosphere to calm he took a swig of his juice, happiness bubbling up again as he realized how long it had been since he'd had it.

"Janus."

"Yes, Virgil?" He looked up to see the anxious side slightly more relaxed, legs curled underneath him with his hands resting on his knees. He looked tired though, slumped over with barely hidden bags under his eyeshadow. He had a feeling now was not the time to bring it up however worried the image made him.

"Have you- did you- damnit." Virgil ran a hand through his hair and took another breath. "You still regress. Which is fine! It's perfectly healthy and there's nothing wrong with it- but...has it been happening a lot? Without...without me there?"

He gripped his cup tighter and said nothing, watching with regret as Virgil's eyes widened.

"Janus...you weren't alone when it would happen right? Remus, or at least-"

"No. I was fine on my own for the most part. I simply locked my door."

"Locked your-! Janus you can't, okay. Okay, I- Janus I'm so sorry. We need...fuck okay." Virgil was sitting up straighter now, gripping his cheeks and squeezing his eyes shut. He couldn't remember the last time he had seen the other so worked up other than when he had left after their final argument. Janus leaned forward and cleared his throat, holding out his hands which Virgil gratefully took in a steel grip.

"I know the way we left things was...less than ideal," he started, looking at Vjrgil directly to try and drive home his point. "But I feel like we're at a point now where we can try to see where things went wrong and fix it. My habit has nothing to do with it."

His fingers were gripped tighter as Virgil laughed. "Your habit? Is that what we call it now? Janus- I need to apologize-"

"You don't."

"Shut up asshole and let me be sentimental." Janus grinned and nodded for him to continue. "The way I acted- it wasn't okay. Neither was the way you acted but that's beside the point. I'm very willing, now that the anger's cooled off, to start fresh. It's something we should have done way before this and I'm sorry for being so stubborn but...I guess it doesn't matter now. I just-"

Distangling their fingers, Virgil gripped his chin gently and tilted his head up, making him look directly into pleading eyes. "I didn't think about how my leaving would impact our trust that badly. You had no one to take care of you, and when you're small you should never have to be left to your own devices. You trusted me all those years ago to be responsible for you and I've been...I've been failing you for years. And that isn't okay."

Tears pricked his eyes and he internally cursed himself for not being able to handle this conversation. It had been years since they had been this close, years since Virgil had looked at him with anything but disdain and borderline hatred; to have him this close now, watching him with such an open expression-

Arms were around him before he even registered Virgil had moved and that was the last straw. Choking off a sob Janus gripped the back of the other's hoodie and buried his face shamefully in his friend's shoulder, years of emotions pouring out in front of the person he expected to care the least. He felt himself being shifted so Virgil could sit beside him, thighs pressing together as he was rocked gently back and forth.

"Shhh, I know. I know, Janus and I'm so sorry. I promise we'll be okay. We're okay now, I'm not leaving again. Let it out it's okay, I still love you, it's going to be okay."

And if that last statement didn't just make him sob harder. His scales itched and his face was hot and he had probably ruined the patched jacket with all of his snot but Virgil loved him. It would be okay because he was holding him and rocking him and telling him everything would be fine. They were okay. Finally, after so long of wanting to talk but never knowing how, he had finally gotten his best friend back.

Neither of them had the will to let the other go for a very long time, but Janus found himself content, as his tears finally slowed and the gentle back rub tapered off, to just sit and be held and loved.

This work and others are also available on AO3!

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#false writes #sanders sides #sanders sides fic #agere #age regression #janus sanders #virgil sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #patton sanders

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epochofbelief · 4 years

Text

Breath Control Chapter Two

here’s chapter two... unfortunately had to repost these first three chapters bc Tumblr deleted them or something!!

TWO

“Feyre. Have you done any work for the past hour we have been sitting here?”

Elain’s voice barely managed to penetrate my thoughts. I looked down at my textbook and shook my head. I had very bad cases of a hangover and a sour stomach. And embarrassment. And a broken heart.

Thriving.

“Will you please just talk to me?”

I’d met Elain at the library an hour ago, both of us planning to get some serious homework done before the week got started. I’d managed to tell Elain a little of what had happened last night but she hadn’t pried until now.

“I don’t think I can talk about it.”

She huffed out a breath. “Feyre. If anyone knows what it feels like to have a broken heart, it would be me. So maybe I could help if you’d just talk to me.”

That’s right. Elain’s ex-boyfriend, Grayson, had broken up with her unexpectedly over the summer. Elain, positive he would be the man she married, and subsequently being denied admissions to the nursing schools she was trying to get into for grad school, had been in bad shape for a couple of months. I wasn’t sure if she was really okay now, or if she was just better at hiding it. She’d attended Mortal University for her undergraduate degree and had wanted to stay there for her masters--and hadn’t gotten in. Luckily she’d applied to Prythian’s school and had been accepted, but it wasn’t where she had wanted to end up at all. Away from her friends and our father, she’d started nursing school at the same time I’d started my sophomore year and I was pretty sure I was her only friend.

Looked like she was my only friend, too.

I sighed. Then explained. Tamlin and Ianthe all over each other. My public humiliation. And Rhys, unexpectedly driving me home and taking care of me, which was probably the most unexplainable part of the entire night. I hated it, but Tamlin’s behavior had hurt me but not surprised me. I’d barely said two words to Rhys the entire time I’d been at Prythian. We had a big swim team, about sixty people strong. Rhys and his friends--Cassian, Amren, Azriel, and Mor--were all in the middle distance group. Tamlin and Ianthe were sprinters. I swam distance, for the most part. The different training groups and large numbers made it difficult to bond with every single team member, so I didn’t know Rhys or his group at all.

“Are you talking about Rhysand Night? That boy is hot.”

I did a double-take. That was a very brazen statement coming from Elain. “When have you ever even seen him?”

She raised her eyebrows. “I’ve been to your swim meets, you know. It’s easy to tell who has the best body and face from the stands.”

I groaned. “He saw me puke, Elain! I drunkenly poured my heart out to him. He must think I’m some kind of idiot. And now I am friendless on the team. Friendless. Especially after Rhys tells all his friends how pathetic I am.” I leaned over and put my face on my textbook. “I should quit now and cut my losses.”

Elain whacked me on the arm. “You most certainly will not quit! That beautiful boy was just--”

“Feyre?”

I stilled. If I hadn’t recognized that voice last night, I definitely did now. Positive my cheeks were a flaming red, I slowly sat up.

“Hey, Rhys,” I said meekly, my hand coming up in a very awkward wave. I shoved it back down.

“You ladies talking about beautiful boys? Surely no one around here, right?” He asked smoothly, folding his arms and leaning against a bookshelf.

Thank God Elain blushed for me. “Nobody you’d know.”

He raised his brows and I prayed he hadn’t heard anything else. “Hey, I was going to text you. . . Then I realized I didn’t have your number. You left your wallet in my car last night… I didn’t find it until this morning. It’s in my backpack. I can go grab it and bring it to you.”

I couldn’t believe I hadn’t even realized it was gone. “No, no, I’ll come with you. You don’t have to make another trip.” And ignoring his protests I jumped up and took off through the shelves. For some reason, I didn’t want him anywhere near Elain when she was casually throwing about the word “beautiful.” I scoffed. He wasn’t that attractive.

I was halfway through the stacks when I realized I didn’t actually know where I was going. “Uh…”

“All my friends are over there. Are you sure you don’t want me to just grab it for you and bring it to you here?”

I stopped in my tracks. I had the feeling he knew I wasn’t in the mood to speak to anyone right now. A mood I had been in for the past few months, but. . . I blew out a breath. “Um. Yeah. Thank you.”

He squeezed past me, and for a moment I found myself so close to him I could feel his body heat as he turned and sidestepped through the narrow space between me and the shelves. I could have sworn he was holding his breath as he passed, and I had to crane my neck to see his face. Our eyes met. I shivered.

Then he was gone. I blew out another breath and slumped against the shelf behind me. What was wrong with me? I’d been broken up with Tamlin for less than twenty-four hours and I was already noticing other guys. Disgusted with myself, I stared at the titles across from me.

Rhys was back in less than a minute, my wallet in his outstretched hand. I took it from him, taking extra care not to brush his hand with mine. “Thanks.”

I made to turn around and return to the safety of Elain’s aura when he reached out and brushed my shoulder. “Are you doing okay? You know, after everything?”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Rhys. You already made sure I got home okay.”

He crossed his arms. “Yeah but I’d kind of be an asshole if I didn’t at least check in. Now tell me. Are you okay?”

His gaze didn’t falter from mine as he looked at me. His gorgeous face was serious. He was really asking. He wanted a genuine answer. Good or bad, he wanted to know.

“No.”

And when I turned around, he let me go.

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

The rest of the day passed in a blur. Elain and I spent six hours in the library and I skipped out on the girls’ team dinner, claiming I had homework. I spent the evening locked in my room, dreading the inevitable moment when I ran into Ianthe, who was, after all, my roommate. Bitch, I muttered under my breath.

It was eight o’clock and I had no plans for the rest of my evening, so I changed into my pajamas and flopped on the bed. Fully prepared to spend the night binging a TV show, I retrieved ice cream from my fridge and got under the covers. An hour into The Witcher, I got a text.

Rhysand Night: You’re going to practice in the morning, right?

I frowned. He was clearly texting the wrong person. And how did he have my number?

I opened the text and discovered that he had texted his phone from mine last night…

Me: I was planning on it

Rhysand Night: Just checking. I know you may not feel like going right now, but I don’t want to see you getting in trouble

Being a part of a college level swim team meant twenty hours of training a week. Practice at 5:30 in the morning most weekdays and again in the afternoon. I didn’t know why Rhys felt the need to check on me--missing practice meant getting chewed out by the head coach. If you missed more than one practice, you got suspended. No way would I blatantly take that risk.

Me: I’ll be there

I shut off my phone and went to bed.

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

I barely dragged myself out of practice the next morning. And the morning after that. And the morning after that. For two weeks after Halloween, I ignored Ianthe as much as humanly possible. She made no attempt to apologize. Tamlin had even kept his distance. I showed up at practice, swam (albeit poorly), went to class, went to practice, and went home. I was reaching new levels of anti-social. Elain was busy with study groups and classes and Nesta wouldn’t be in town for another week. She worked as a flight attendant and split her time between our father's and her and Elain’s shared place.

I just couldn’t bring myself to do anything besides school and swim. The fact that I had wasted a year of my life on Tamlin Spring was tearing me apart from the inside out. And breaking up with him had made me realize all of the things I had wasted my life on for the past year. Why was I pursuing a degree in exercise science when I loved literature and art? Why had I put all my effort into one friendship with a bitch who had stabbed me in the back at her first opportunity? I had no other friends on the swim team I had chosen during my recruitment process, thinking it was the “place for me.” I was in the wrong place, had chosen the wrong people, and was aiming for the wrong future. The worst part was, it was all my fault. My blindness had seeped into every part of my life and I barely knew who I was without my overbearing boyfriend and the friend who had steered me around for my entire college experience.

On Thursday morning, over a week and a half after the Halloween party, Coach King texted me to meet him in his office after my classes for the day were over. I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. An impromptu meeting with Coach King usually implied a fate worse than death. At this point, I deserved anything he had to say to me. My grades had fallen in the past few weeks (I had failed a test on Monday and two quizzes since then) and my training had continued to worsen.

My suspicions proved correct when I arrived for the meeting and Coach King started explaining the reason he had called me to his office. He mentioned my grades and my training and the fact that I had barely spoken or shown any signs of life at practice for days. He wanted to know what was wrong. He wanted to know what he could do to help. But mostly, he wanted me to fix it--fast. Then he told me he was moving me to the middle distance training group.

“Wh--what?!”

Moving training groups in the middle of the year was unheard of. Potentially season-ending. If he was moving me from distance to middle distance, he was most likely saying I wouldn’t travel or compete for the rest of the year. It took time to adjust to a new training regimen.

I tried to protest, but he told me he had made his decision and felt I was more cut out for middle distance events anyway. The adjustment wouldn’t be too drastic. And he wanted me to take the rest of the week off and start fresh on Monday.

That’s the thing about college athletics. Coaches can be great coaches. They can get a team from nothing to something quick if they know what they’re doing. Some can even do that and help their swimmers develop as people, too. But for most coaches, when it came down to it, weakness was weakness, no matter the reason. And I was currently the weakest link on the team. Coach King had to do something about it and this was apparently the best he could come up with.

I mumbled something to Coach King about seeing the sports psychologist and trying harder at the new practices. I felt certain he had vague ideas about the couples on the team, so he probably knew about my Tamlin situation. I didn’t feel the need to mention it to him. I left his office and made it all the way down the five flights of stairs and out the back entrance into the cloudy, chilly afternoon before I allowed myself to cry.

I had messed up my life so royally that I had no idea how to fix it. I wouldn’t be surprised if Coach King kicked me off the team in a matter of weeks. We had a travel meet coming up, and I felt certain that I wouldn’t make the cut. I’d be stuck at Prythian U while all my teammates that I had developed no relationship with would travel.

Head down, I was rushing to my car as my tears fell when I ran headfirst into a warm body.

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry--”

“We have to stop meeting like--Feyre.”

“Rhys.” I kept my eyes on the crack in the parking lot pavement at my feet.

“Are you okay?”

“You’ve got to stop asking me that question! I know you don’t care! Let me deal with this by myself.” I made to push past him but he followed me to my car anyways.

“Feyre. I do care. I’m your teammate. And it doesn’t seem like anybody else on the team is lining up to ask how you’re doing, so I’m here to do that. I want to help you.” Something in his voice made me pause, but I couldn’t figure out what it was.

“Just fuck off. You don’t even know me.”

He threw up his hands as I struggled to unlock my extremely old Volkswagen with the key fob. My tears and anger were making it very hard to open the door.

“For God’s sake, Feyre! Would you stop being so damn difficult and let someone help you? You’ve been a ghost at practice these past few weeks and Coach King just told me you were moving to my training group.”

I unlocked my car and wrenched it open. “Leave me alone.”

Rhys grabbed my car door and refused to let me close it. I glared at his stupid, gorgeous, violet eyes. “I bet you like this. An excuse to just give up, get yourself kicked off the team. Much easier than having to face Tamlin at practice everyday, much easier than having to make new friends.”

I narrowed my eyes. And slapped him across the face.

He touched his cheek. A spark of satisfaction lit up against the confusion and depression that lived within my gut. I had surprised him. And shut him up.

“Wow. I guess I deserved that. But you know I’m right.”

And the fact was, I did. He had said out loud what was going on deep inside me, what I was dangerously close to giving in to. I was shocked someone I barely knew could even begin to fathom what was going on so deep within my brain that I had yet to admit it to myself. But most of all, I was angry. Angry that this boy thought he had some sort of right to me pouring out my heart to him or at the very least accepting his help. He wasn’t a captain. He had no jurisdiction over me.

“Fine! You’re right! Are you happy now?” I wanted to wipe the smug look off his face. I cast around for something, anything to make him understand even a little bit what I was feeling. “Any other accusations you want to spit at me to make me hate myself more than I already do?”

His smirk fell. Satisfied once more, I thought he’d let me leave, but he held fast to my car door.

“Tell me what to do to help you. Tell me and I’ll do it.”

I blinked. I thought he would yell at me some more. I hadn’t expected such an open offer, more raw and entreating than anything Tamlin had ever said to me.

I hated that my year with Tamlin had made me think that a guy treating me nicely was a rare commodity. I deserved to be treated with more kindness than Tamlin had ever bestowed on me. I knew that, and yet--I didn’t know how to accept that kindness anymore. I was now so deeply confused about myself, my team, and Rhys that I merely stood there, staring at Rhys without really seeing him, and contemplating the nature of my existence for the past year.

Rhys, appearing to come to the conclusion that I had nothing to say in response to his entreaty, cleared his throat. “I know there’s a team party this weekend, as per usual. But my friends and I are going to hang out ourselves and stay sober since we have a meet the weekend after. I want you to come. In fact, I insist.”

I opened my mouth to protest, but he kept talking. “If you don’t show, I’ll tell the captains you haven’t actually been sick or studying during the past two team meetings you’ve missed. I’ll text you the address. Come. Please. We won’t talk about Tamlin or anything difficult. Plus, you should probably meet your new training group.”

That was right. Rhys and all his friends were in the middle distance group. I’d be subject to all of them starting Monday.

And because I couldn’t think of any excuse, because I couldn’t have the captains knowing the concrete truth about my absences, because maybe somewhere deep within me desired help, I agreed.

#feysand #feyre x rhysand #acomaf #a court of thorns and roses #fanfiction #acotar fanfiction #feysand modern au #feyre archeron #rhysand #high lord #night court #elriel

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mostlydysfunction · 4 years

Text

From The Stars, Part 4

Chapter Summary: Kira has a breakdown and realizes she might not be completely sane. The Xenomorph’s behavior continues to surprise her.

Warnings: Some language and a bit of blood but nothing serious.

Author’s Note: Got this done earlier than I expected.

MASTERLIST

**********************************************************************************

Kira wakes up in the arms of her alien. The sun was up, and light bathed her room, but the alien was still there. They hadn’t moved in the night, Kira knowing her body would be stiff and sore. She slowly begins to move, working on rolling over. The alien doesn’t impede her movements, letting her move around. Her shoulder is stiff and stuck in place, her side cramped from laying on the hardwood all night. She slowly unfolds herself, working herself into a sitting position. The alien stays where it is, but Kira gets the feeling it’s watching her.

Half her body cracks as she stands up, leaning on her bed for a moment as everything comes back to life again. Kira limps into the bathroom, shutting the door. She pulls up her shirt, seeing bruises from the alien’s tail on her stomach. The reality of what would happen hits her hard now that he’s back. She had blocked it out at his absence, but obviously he had been serious. He could do it any time. Literally any moment he could forcefully take her. The thought makes her stomach twist in panic. He could have done it last night. How did she know any different? She had just let him stay and let him hold her in her sleep.

Kira finishes her business before opening the door. The alien is sitting on its haunches near the door. The sight of it makes her angry, and she stares hard at it.

“I want you to leave.”

The alien doesn’t make any movement, does nothing but sit there and stare.

“I said, I want you to leave.”

Still the alien sits there, staring at her blankly. It makes her mad.

“I said fucking get out! I don’t want you here!” She grabs a pillow, throwing it at the alien.

It moves slightly to the side, dodging the pillow, letting it hit the wall with a thud.

“I’ll call the Feds. I’ll call the Feds and I’ll let them take you away! They’ll probe you! How would you feel about that?” She throws a shoe at him next, and he easily dodges that too.

She grabs her phone and the Fed’s card, dialing the number, but she can’t hit the call button. It was like some physical force was stopping her from hitting the call button. She drops to her knees at the edge of her bed, tears sliding down her cheeks. She sees the alien move out of the corner of her eye, his body settling behind hers, his chin resting on top of her head from behind.

“Why can’t I do it? Why can’t I call? Why can’t I get rid of you?” She sobs, clutching at her bedsheets.

The alien hisses, a rumbling sound through his whole body. She feels calmed by it, and she hates herself for it. She hates herself for feeling empty when he’s not around. She hates herself for feeling like she has to have him close by, that she needs him. She can’t understand it. She doesn’t get why, but she has to. She just has to.

********

The alien is gone for another two days. Kira feels strangely bored and empty without it near, constantly looking at every sound, checking every corner, expecting to see him there, but he’s not. Part of her has considered he’s not coming back. She gets the glass replaced on her door and finishes painting over the bullet hole. She deep cleans her house and tries to distract herself but she can’t stop thinking about the alien. It was like he had invaded every part of her being and she was stuck.

The alien comes back looking different from when it had left. It seemed bigger and there are ridges on its head that weren’t there before. It was tapping at the glass at the back door, thankfully refraining from breaking it before she got there to let it in.

She was letting it in. The alien that wanted to mate with her and she was just letting it in like some house pet that had been let outside. It crawls in through her door, tail whipping behind it. It sits on its haunches in the area between her dining room and living room. It watches her with its invisible eyes, Kira moving to her kitchen. She was in the middle of making dinner and she wasn’t about to miss this meal because of the alien.

Thankfully, the alien doesn’t do anything but sit there and watch, its head moving with her every movement. She can feel its invisible eyes on her skin, the piercing gaze of optical organs she can’t even find watching every little movement as she finishes making herself dinner. She sits at the table, the alien staying where it is, only slightly shifting so it’s staring at her. She tries to ignore it, tries to pretend it’s just a cat, a big, alien cat.

For a moment she wonders if she should offer it something to eat, but she realizes she doesn’t know what it eats, nor is it showing any interest in her food on her plate. She stares at its head, trying to picture where its eyes would be.

A shiver runs down her spine as she stares at it, truly taking it in. In the week she’d had it around, she hadn’t really had a chance to truly look at it and study it. Her biology expertise was limited to what she learned in high school, but none of it would probably do any good to her even if she remembered everything. This was a completely alien creature she’d never seen before, that more than likely fell to Earth and caused the explosion that had brought half the state’s police and the Feds to her town and to her house. She had blatantly lied to them to protect it. She had let it in her house willingly, slept next to it twice, let it get closer to her than any human had been in years. She knew its intentions and yet, here she was, having dinner in front of it while it sat in her dining room with her. She couldn’t even talk to it. She had gotten nothing but hisses from it and actions that had given her more than enough information to gauge its intentions for her.

There had to be something wrong with her.

Maybe she’d hit her head somehow, and she was in a coma and this was all ICU delirium. Maybe she had died, and this was hell, and she was being punished for all the horrible things she’d said and did in her short lifetime. Or maybe she was hallucinating the whole thing. She’d finally lost it, and the alien wasn’t even there. It wanted to mate with her and she was just letting it sit there and watch her eat. She wasn’t freaking out like normal, hell a normal person would have tried everything to get rid of the thing as soon as they saw it.

But not her.

No, she was having dinner with it.

“You know, it’s rude to stare at people when they eat.” She tells it, but it makes no move to turn away. It’s perfectly still, only the slight twitch of its tail where it’s laying across her living room floor behind it.

Kira continues to eat, only glancing down at her plate to pick up more food before looking at it again. This continues until Kira is finished eating and she goes to the kitchen to clean up. She can feel it watching her as she does dishes, taking her time to delay whatever it had planned for her when she finished.

Until she accidentally cuts herself with a knife.

“Shit.” She drops the knife, clutching her finger. It was a decent cut, already starting to drip blood.

She goes to place it under the water, but she’s pulled backwards by a tail around her waist. She yelps in surprise, pushed up against the counter by the sink just out of reach of the water. The alien is in front of her, its long fingers wrapping around her wrist, bringing her bleeding finger up to its face. She watches as its mouth opens, wider than she’s seen it open before a second, smaller mouth creeps out from between its jaws. Kira’s heart is pounding in her chest, her breathing picking up as she watches it bring her finger to its second mouth, sticking it in. It closes its teeth around her finger, not biting down, but enough that she can’t move without fear of leaving skin behind.

It’s tasting her. She can feel the strange, slick inside of its mouth, her hand getting coated in its drool. It hisses, the sound vibrating around her hand. She watches it, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. Her legs are shaking, threatening to give out from under her, but the alien tightens its tail around her, holding her up.

It finally releases her after what seems like a lifetime. Her hand falls limply to her side, Kira vaguely recognizing her finger isn’t bleeding quite as heavily anymore. The alien leans in closer to her, nudging her head to the side. She’s practically limp in its arms, letting it do what it wants. Her head is spinning, everything seeming far away to her.

She feels the second mouth nudging at her throat, sharp teeth tracing over her neck. Kira is brought back by a sharp pain near the junction of her neck and shoulder, a whimper leaving her lips, but it’s quickly drowned out by a hiss from the alien. She can feel its hands on her, holding her, its sticky drool coating her front.

Her vision goes spotty, fading to black as she goes limp in the alien’s arms.

******

Kira wakes up laying on the kitchen floor. It’s light outside, the water still running in the sink. She’s covered in red streaked drool, her left shoulder throbbing. She takes a moment to realize what woke her before she hears a knocking at her front door. She gets up, quickly splashing water over her face before shutting it off. She would have one hell of a water bill.

The knocking continues, Kira looking at the mess on the floor and herself. She couldn’t answer the door like that, so she strips out of her shirt, tossing it in the laundry room before grabbing a jacket. The movement tugs at her shoulder, making her hiss in pain. She feels it for a moment, the ridges of teeth marks prominent in her skin. The alien had bitten her.

She makes sure the jacket covers the wound before grabbing a couple towels, tossing it over the mess on the floor. That would be fun to clean up later. The knocking gets louder, her name being called from the other side.

“Just a moment!”

Kira fixes her hair before hurrying to the door, opening it up. Her stomach drops, the air leaving her lungs when she registers the face staring at her from her porch.

“Dad?”

Part 5

#alien #xenomorph #xenomorph x human #xenomorph x oc #language #blood #series #exophilia

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