#I often wonder how many people will point their weapons at me when I hit certain plot points in the Roleswap LOL

[jojo-schmo]

When I punctuate half my sentences with “hehehe,” this is what I mean.

[ranchthoughts]

thinking of pat and pran and genre awareness

I've been thinking a lot about this as the Bad Buddy x A Tale of a Thousand Stars Our Skyy 2 episodes air. Like @lurkingshan notes here, Pran is self-aware enough to notice the parallels between his situation and Tian's, and I've seen a lot of people wondering how Pran's self-recognition through Tian (and perhaps Phupha's self-recognition through Pat) will contribute to the emotional and narrative conclusions of these episodes. Furthermore, Pran and Pat keep talking about trope moments - either their own from their series (e.g., Oishi green tea) or Tian and Phupha's which they know about from Tian's posts online. Pat and Pran take it upon themselves to replicate trope moments from ATOTS (like the looming mosquito net hanging) for themselves, and to discuss how to leverage classic romance tropes to get Phupha and Tian back together (e.g., getting them drunk and singing karaoke together). Self-awareness, and the related genre-awareness, are the Bad Buddy brand - we've seen how well Pat and Pran know how to weaponize BL tropes to get what they want.

Bad Buddy itself is a show that was created by genre-aware people to be genre-aware. @miscellar writes here about how Bad Buddy's directors and actors set out to make a BL while being fully aware of the pitfalls of BL. Bad Buddy includes soooo many tropes and other genre conventions (being set at university, the sound editing, etc.) which place it firmly within the genre of BL. However, the show deliberately subverts BL conventions in order to make broader points about the genre itself - I go into (a lot) more detail here. As miscellar says in this post: Bad Buddy labels itself a romcom to subvert romcoms.

Bad Buddy also demonstrates its genre- and self-awareness through its repetition of tropes and callbacks. We see that especially now as the Bad Buddy Our Skyy 2 episodes are airing (@grapejuicegay outlines many of the parallels between the original series and the Our Skyy episodes here). The show remembers what it did and repeats them, intentionally, to draw new connections and make new arguments.

So the directors, show runners, and actors of Bad Buddy are genre (and self) aware... what about the characters?

In this post miscellar makes an interesting point - to the BL viewer, the first three episodes of Bad Buddy seemed like a pretty typical university BL, and it seemed clear that Pat, the deliverer of most of the tropes, would be revealed to be in love with Pran. But that's not what happens.

I talked about this here, but to recap: in the lead-up to his episode 5 revelation, Pat often fulfills the active or seme role in tropes (grabbing Pran, looming over him, saying flirty things, etc.). However, Pat is not genre-aware in the first few episodes of Bad Buddy: he does not know he is in a BL, so he isn't analyzing these interactions through the "code" of a BL, therefore he doesn't recognize these moments as significant. To a BL-literate audience, Pat seems the perfect "seme", but he doesn't even know he's in a story with a "seme" yet.

On the other hand, Pran has been in love with Pat for ages, and he is fully aware of how their story reads. He does not take the active/seme role in tropes very often in the first few episodes (and when he does, it's an accident, like their wrestling match) because he is trying not to be in the romantic narrative, he's trying not to pursue Pat. Pran is genre-aware, he recognizes all of their looming and suggestive commentary as BL tropes, but he knows that BL stories typically end happily. He knows they are in a queer love story (he's in love, after all), but he doesn't see any way this can be a happy queer love story, not with their families.

This is why Pran's "You can't keep doing this to me Pat" line on the roof at the end of episode 5 hits so hard - Pat has been acting like the lead in a BL series to genre-aware folks like Pran and us, the audience, but he doesn't even realize what he's doing. And to Pran, who is painfully aware of what type of story they seem to be in, but he doesn't think they can ever truly fulfill, this is devastating. Pran is trapped, with narrative awareness, in a story that can never come true, with someone who doesn't realize how they are playing along, hurtling the story towards its inevitable crash.

In episode 5, Pat comes to the realization that he is in love with Pran, and that Pran is/has been in love with him. In this post, @functionalasfuck writes how back in high school when Pat first heard Pran's song, he recognized it as their story but didn't see where Pran was taking it (even when Pran mentions secret crushes). Only on second thought does Pat realize what Pran meant by that and what the song was conveying. Pat and Pran's story slams into context (and genre) for Pat: this is a classic enemies-to-lovers, childhood-friends-to-lovers, long-term pining story; this is a BL.

And after Pat's episode 5 realization, things change. Pat acts again like a typical seme trope-wise through episode 6, as he follows Pran on the architecture retreat. He's trying to get Pran to talk to him, to join him in the BL he now realizes they are in. But Pran doesn't want to go down a road that he believes will end in heartache - he's known, from the beginning, that their story can be read as a perfect BL, but he's also known it can never end happily, not with their families - and so he avoids it, and Pat, at every turn.

It's finally at the end of episode 6, with the bet, that things change again. Both Pat and Pran realize they are in a romantic narrative. Pran has learned Pat isn't interested in Ink, so there is one barrier towards their genre-typical happy ending eliminated. Their families are still a concern, but Pran's in love and who can resist a bet, so they go forward.

The trope usage becomes deliberate - and it's always been deliberate on the part of the directors and show runners, they've always known what they have set out to do (make a BL that hits all the BL conventions yet subverts them) and have deployed tropes intentionally to uphold the messages and themes they want to explore (more here) - but now it is deliberate on the part of the characters too. Through the first part of the series, genre-aware Pran was trying to avoid acting the seme, trying to halt the progression of the romantic narrative he believed could only end in tragedy, and genre-unaware Pat was throwing himself into trope instances headfirst without realizing. Now, they have made a pact to both be the active pursuers, the seme: whoever falls in love first loses. They both deploy BL tropes with razor sharp precision (Pran looms, Pat takes off his shirt and douses himself with water, etc.) showing that they do understand what these actions mean, how they fit into and read in a BL-coded context. The most obvious example of this in episode 7 is when Pat and Ink and Pran and Wai eat at the noodle stand together. Pat and Pran leverage their respective "faen fatales" (more on that here) to make the other jealous by deploying a litany of BL tropes (feeding the other, wiping their mouth, etc.). Pat and Pran show they know what these actions mean in the context of a BL story, like their own.

Pat and Pran are in on it now - they are self-aware enough to recognize their genre, they know the beats of that genre, and they know how to manipulate them to get the outcomes they want.*

And it soon becomes apparent to us that Pat and Pran are in on more than just the genre of their show - they are onto the fact that there is an audience. @miscellar writes here about how Pat and Pran break the fourth wall several times throughout the course of Bad Buddy (e.g., Pran's comment about not needing to be called wife, or the voiceover in episode 12, which @chickenstrangers also talks about here, where Pat and Pran reveal they hid their continued relationship from their friends, their family, and us, the audience).

I'm very curious to see where these final two Our Skyy 2 eps take us, as Pat and Pran have shown they know Tian and Phupha are in a gay love story; and have shown they can identify the trope moments we, the BL-literate audience, notice too; and Pran at least has shown he recognizes the parallels between his own BL narrative and Tian and Phupha's. How will Pat and Pran's genre awareness, and their self-recognition through the other, affect the resolution of both pairs' story lines?

*(side note: this reminds me of @chickenstrangers' post on Bad Buddy and queer futurities - Pat and Pran have to work for their happiness, to make joy in the face of hardship, to claw their story back into a happy ending that Pran didn't even think was possible at the beginning of the show. They know they are in a BL, and they are going to get that genre-typical happy ending on way or another.)

[mrsalwayswrite]

Sinners and Saints (Sihtric x reader)

Summary: One day you stumble upon your childhood friend, Osferth, whom you have not seen in years. Yet the more time you spend with him, the more you find yourself drawn to his companion, Sihtric….and the butterflies his dark eyes give you.

This is my contribution to @emilyhufflepufftlk 100 followers challenge! Congratulations again! I’m so happy for you! 

My prompt was - "Love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints." - Lin-Manuel Miranda, Hamilton (in bold within the story)

Words: 5500

Warnings: A couple of swear words, fluff, my poor attempts at humor, Osferth being a good bro. 

Tag List: @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @flowers-in-your-hayr​

This gorgeous moodboard was made by @flowers-in-your-hayr​. All credit goes to her! 

"...so there she was, aye, and next thing I know, she flips 'er dress up and I see the most perfect set of…."

 "I'm going to be sick." Osferth mumbled to himself, trying to block out Finan's retelling of his prior night. To the laughter of his companions, he started to push away from the outdoor table at the alehouse. He was no virgin anymore, Finan and Uhtred had seen to that, but he still felt squeamish when listening to their stories of recent conquests. His mother's voice whispered in the back of his mind, things she had told him before her passing, about respect and love. Plus, he could not help but think that this idea of conquests, of women's worth derived from what pleasure a man could take from their bodies, was what brought bastards into this world….like him. 

 "Alright, Finan, we get it. You saw the arse of a goat and couldn't help yourself." Uhtred teased, slinging an arm around Osferth so he could not escape them- most likely to find a church and pray for their souls. 

 "Oi, lord! Ya know that was one time!" Finan feigned mock-outrage, making Uhtred and Sihtric laugh. 

 Osferth put a hand over his eyes as if that would somehow block the image from his mind. Something he desperately did not want there. 

 "How much longer are we here, lord?" Sihtric asked, changing the subject, while twirling a dagger between his hands fluidly. 

 Although Osferth would never admit it aloud, and God forgive him, it was hard not to be jealous of how easily his companions handled their weapons like they had been born with weapons in hand. They continued to tell him it was practice. Recently though, he decided it was a gift that he clearly did not have. 

 "Until I feel satisfied with the training of Lord Godwin's fyrd and his defenses." Uhtred stated indifferently, as if it was something he had to repeat to himself often. 

 "Ya think King Alfred knew how much of a horse's arse Lord Godwin is?"

 Uhtred glanced up, a tiny smirk on his lips. "Probably."

 "But he knew you were the man for the job." Osferth commented. Not necessarily to defend his father but to hopefully bolster Uhtred's confidence. "The men respect you, even if their lord fails to acknowledge his own respect."

 "The baby monk is right." Finan said. "What else needs to be done for the town?"

 Uhtred and Finan began discussing ideas and strategies, Sihtric adding an occasional comment but mostly just listening. 

 Osferth found his attention wandering, since this was an area outside of his expertise. His gaze drifted to the town and its residents who moved about to complete their duties under the midday sun. Their group had only been in this large town for two days and already Osferth was keen to return to Coccham. 

 From amidst the crowd, a familiar face caught his attention. The world tilted off its axis as his entire body went rigid, all his focus zeroed in on her. His heart hammered in his chest and the air whooshed from his lungs painfully. 

 "Y/n?" He muttered to himself, disbelief and shock clearly painted in his tone and on his face. 

 "Baby monk, ya alright?"

 Finan's words did even register, so consumed by the ghost before him. Rapidly, he slid off the bench, almost losing his footing when he went to stand, but pressed on, hurrying towards her. 

 "Y/n!" He called, an almost desperate tone in his yell. 

 When she did not turn around, he shouted louder. "Y/N!" 

 That time she paused, then slowly turned to find him standing still amongst those walking around him, a solid rock in a stream of people. He held his breath as he intently watched her expression, suddenly worried seeing him would not be as meaningful as he hoped. He could see her utter his name silently, eyes wide. Then in the next moment, she dropped the basket on her hip and ran towards him. He opened his arms just in time for her to collide with him, and with her embrace, a painful wave of nostalgia and guilt crashed over him with the strength of a tempest. 

 "It's really you." She finally whispered, peering at him in awe. 

 "Hi." He smiled, his own shock clouding his mind from forming coherent sentences.  

 Then to his surprise, she reared back and punched him in the arm. 

 "Ouch! What was that for?" He whined, rubbing the offended limb. 

 Throwing her hands in the air, they landed on her hips as her voice rose in anger. "For disappearing in the middle of the night without telling me!"

 "I did tell you."

 "That you were THINKING about leaving, not that you WERE leaving!" She reared back and punched him in the arm again, ignoring his pained cry as she continued to berate him. "I spent an entire day running around the monastery trying to find you only for Father Harold to finally pull me aside and tell me you left for Wincheaster." 

 And there was the heaping of guilt he knew he deserved. "I'm sorry….I just….I just knew if I didn't leave that night, then I never would."

 Her face softened at his quiet admission, understanding passing in her eyes. "I know. I wasn't truly surprised…. Just wish you'd have told me before."

 "I'm sorry."

 She sighed, all anger and frustration disappearing, much to his relief. She was a force to be reckoned with when truly in her fury. "So, what are you doing here?"

 "Ah, traveled here with the Lord Uhtred to assist Lord Godwin in his defenses….or something."

 "Uhtred? That Uhtred?"

 He smiled at her, catching the reverence in her tone. "That very one."

 "How did you find him? How did you join him? Wait! Are you a warrior now? We have a lot to talk about and you better get started." There went the hands on her hips again, making his smile widen at the image. Even as a young girl, when her hands were on her hips, you knew she meant business. 

 "Would you like to meet him first?"

 A shy look passed over her face that he was unused to seeing. "I'm…. I'm not presentable to meet a lord."

 He scanned her, noting the dried mud on the hem of her dress and shoes, the small smear of what looked like flour on her left temple. What he noticed most was how the years had made her even more beautiful. She had always been a pretty girl but now, she truly looked like a beautiful woman. A fact he was unsure of how to feel about. 

 He chuckled lightly after a moment. "Well, you certainly smell better than Lord Uhtred so I think it's fine."

 That caused her to tip her head back and laugh loudly, the desired effect of his comment. She gathered up her basket and walked next to Osferth, back to the table where his companions were. It was impossible to ignore their curious stares as they approached. 

 "Lord Uhtred, may I introduce y/n. Y/n, this is Lord Uhtred of Bebbanburg." Osferth said, standing next to her at the end of the table.

 Uhtred nodded graciously, clearly wondering why this woman mattered and why Osferth was introducing her. 

 "Oh, it's an honor to meet you!" Y/n gushed, a bright smile on her face. "Uncle Leofric told us so much about you, but I never thought I'd ever meet you in person."

 "Leofric?" That caught his lord's attention, his gaze narrowing and eyeing her with renewed interest. "How did you know that turd?"

 "When he came to visit Osferth, he'd tell us stories."

 "Ah….all exaggerated, of course." Uhtred said with a cocky smirk. 

 "Wait. I think we're missin' the most important thing here." Finan leaned forward, dark eyes bouncing between Osferth and her, as he pointed a finger at them, hand still wrapped around his cup. "Ya said 'Uncle Leofric'....are ya related to Osferth?"

 Osferth answered quickly. "No, her family owned the farm next to the monastery, so we grew up together." Then he furrowed his brows as a thought hit him. He had been so amazed to see his childhood best friend (only friend really) that he had not realized that she should be back at the farm and not in this town. "Wait, y/n, why are you here and not at the farm?"

 Her face crumpled for a brief second before she was able to mask it into a neutral expression. She shrugged casually, but he could read the subtle tension in the action. "We lost the farm, so mother and I came here to look for work."

 "Ah." There were so many things he wanted to ask but could tell now was not the right time. If she lived here, he would have plenty of time to hear the full story later. Instead he decided to change the subject. "So, you know Lord Uhtred, the others are Finan and Sihtric…. And Sihtric is also a bastard." He added as an afterthought. 

 That made her face light up as she turned to look at the Dane. "Hey, another bastard! We really need to start a club. We can all rant about how awful our fathers are."

 "You're a bastard?" Uhtred asked, shock evident in his voice. 

 "Yes, my lord. My mother was a servant for a lord. Got pregnant. The lord's wife did not like that so sent my pregnant mother back to her family. Certainly, it was our Lord's Will because how else would I have been able to grow up with Osferth?" She asked, patting him on the cheek affectionately. He blushed and swatted her hand away, much to the other's amusement. 

 "I reckon you have quite a few amusin' stories of growin' up with Osferth, eh?" Finan smirked. 

 "I might….but I don't share secrets for free." She matched his smirk with her own crooked smile. 

 He slapped his hand on the table. "I'll owe ya a drink! I need to 'ear this."

 "No….oh no, no, no." Osferth said but knew it was a lost cause before he even tried to deter them. The rest were already deciding when and where to meet that night. "Lord help me."

 "It's not that bad." She teased, bumping his arm with hers. "The worst one is when we went streaking naked through the monastery."

 Osferth felt his face heat up like the flames of hell itself as everyone laughed. "It was your idea."

 "Yeah, yeah, so you like to remind me." She smiled fondly. "Now, if I don't get back home, my mother is going to think I've run off with some man or I've been kidnapped. Either way, she will raise the fyrd herself to find me. I will see you all tonight."

 The others said their goodbyes but before she could step too far away, Osferth gently touched her arm, halting her movement. 

 "Y/n….I'm….I'm glad our paths have crossed once again."

 She pulled him into a tight embrace. "I am too, Osferth. I've missed you." With that, she turned and walked away with her basket still on her hip; but not without glancing over her shoulder at the group before disappearing around some buildings. 

 Once out of sight, Osferth sighed and turned back to his companions, only to see them all still staring intently in the direction she disappeared. 

 "No….y/n is off-limits to you fornicators." He stated firmly, well as firmly as he could be. 

 "She's very pretty…." Uhtred declared, a playful grin on his face. 

 "Lord, no. All of you, keep your hands off of her."

 "Or what?" Finan chuckled, eyes alight with mischief. "You'll fight us, baby monk?"

 "I will if I must."

 "Alright. Her dignity won't be tarnished." Uhtred lifted his cup in Osferth's direction. "Your reputation might be tonight depending on what stories she shares." 

 Osferth groaned, sitting back down next to his lord. "I'm going to need a lot of ale."

 "That can certainly be arranged!" Finan laughed, jovial once more. 

 As discussion started back up again, they all missed the silent, longing glance Sihtric snuck one last time in the direction she walked away….

 *****

 Over the next several weeks Lord Uhtred helped increase the defenses of the town and instructed the guards and fyrd how to better defend against the Danes. 

 During those weeks, you found yourself frequently spending time with Osferth and his companions. First it started off with meeting them in the evenings for ale, laughter and good company. Within days, it became almost expected for one of them to purposefully seek you out. Most of the time it was Osferth and Sihtric coming to join you in whatever your tasks for the day because they were bored or unwanted in meetings. It was not difficult to tell that although they were certainly welcomed members of Uhtred's group, not everyone else saw them in such a positive light. 

 So the three of you often passed the hours away together, waiting until evening to rejoin Uhtred and Finan at the alehouse. Their presence became such a regular occurrence that your mother practically adopted them, they even had their assigned seats at your small kitchen table for meals. Somehow, they seamlessly slipped into your daily life in a way that seemed like they were meant to be there this whole time. 

 Even at the alehouse in the evenings, you usually found yourself nestled between Osferth and Sihtric on the bench. A place you certainly found yourself enjoying more and more….especially next to the Dane. 

 Over the weeks, there was something growing between you and the Dane. It gradually revealed itself with each passing day, growing like the roots of an oak tree. It was through the borderline flirtatious comments that you teased each other with. It was in the subtle touches that caused butterflies in your stomach to dance, from your fingers barely gracing each other when passing something, to the way you leaned your head on his shoulder when your eyelids threatened to close, to the way your thighs would touch under the table and away from view of the others. It was in the lingering looks when your gazes locked and you swore you never wanted to look away. It was in the consistency of being next to one another whenever you could, either sitting at a table or just walking down the street, almost like your bodies were magnetized to one another's. 

 Plus the more you talked to Sihtric, the more you desired to know about him. For he was like no other man you had ever met. 

 Almost a fortnight after you reunited with Osferth, there was one particular evening after staying out far too late with the four men and drinking a bit too much, Sihtric graciously offered to walk you back home. You knew propriety demanded Osferth should be the one to escort you but he was already passed out, head on the table and snores emitting from his mouth. Giggling at your childhood friend, you accepted Sihtric's offer and the two of you easily fell into step. 

 On the walk you learned more about his past, about going up in Dunholm and his cruel father. You had heard bits and pieces while with Osferth and the others. Maybe it was under the cover of darkness, maybe it was the extra ale flowing through both of your blood, but he confessed secrets to you he had never told another besides his mother. When you reached your home, before he could slip away, you clutched his arm and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. After, you bid him goodnight and slipped inside your humble home. 

 After that night, he always walked you home, sometimes alone and sometimes one of the others would join. But when it was just you two, when you were alone, you would bid him a goodnight with a kiss on the cheek or he would kiss your hand, locking eyes with you in a way that made a fire stir in your belly and your core clench. 

 There was definitely something between the two of you, but neither seemed able to verbalize it or take the next step. 

 *****

 "So, what is going on between you and Cedric?" 

 You turned your head to look at Osferth, who laid on the grass next to you, soaking in the heat of the early afternoon sun. "What?"

 "You know….that blacksmith. The one you were talking to the other day."

 "Oh." The memory hit you. You had stopped by to drop off your mother's damaged cooking pot for Cedric to attempt in fixing, although you personally thought it was a helpless cause. The dent in it was significant, but he offered to see what he could do. As you dropped it off at his workshop, the two of you began discussing an approaching saint's day and the celebration that would occur with it. 

 Several minutes later, you heard your name called and looked over to see Osferth and Sihtric walking towards you. You bid Cedric a farewell, promising to stop by the next day to come pick up the pot. After receiving his promise to try his best at fixing it, you headed off towards the stables with your fellow bastards. At the time, you had not thought the encounter significant but with it happening two days ago and Osferth now bringing it up, you wondered how long he had been ruminating on it. 

 Finally, you simply said, "he's a good man, and has been kind to my mother and I since we arrived here."

 "Is he….pursuing you?" Osferth turned his head to scrutinize you, his lips pursed slightly as if concerned about your answer. 

 You openly laughed at the notion. "No, that's silly. He is just a kind man."

 If anything, you had to fend off flirtatious advancements from some of the young men that worked under Cedric. Those same young men quickly learned to keep their eyes on their work and mouths shut. When one openly called out to you, and before you could offer a sharp retort, Cedric threw a hammer at him from across the shop. He bellowed that he did not allow heathens to work for him and if they chose to act godless then they needed to find a new place of work. Their blatant interest diminished after that and Cedric made a point to be the only one that conversed with you if you came to the shop. Although he was easily ten years your senior, you found him a likeable man with a quick wit and sarcastic comments that occasionally left you in stitches. 

 The idea of him pursuing you was an amusing idea. He was still a bachelor, never having married, claiming that his work and apprentices kept him far too busy for much else. 

 Your answer appeared to satisfy Osferth. A thoughtful look crossed his face and he opened his mouth as if to speak, but immediately slowly closed it and turned his head back to stare at the blue sky. 

 A stillness settled after your answer, only interrupted by the frequent bird song and the wind through the tall grass. You closed your eyes, enjoying the sun's warmth and just lying around relaxing on the hill outside of the town, away from the hustle and bustle and chores that demanded your attention.  

 "He was watching you like a man who wants a woman." Sihtric stated after a couple minutes of peaceful silence. 

 Startled by his sour tone, you shifted up to look over at the Dane. He sat on the other side of Osferth, one leg propped up and an arm casually slung over it, but his gaze was focused straight ahead, staring off into the distance. Now that you thought about it, over the past two days Sihtric had become more reserved and sullen than you had ever seen. Even his companions commented on it a few times to which he would shrug his shoulders or make an excuse and walk away. You had thought he just missed Coccham, the group having been away for so long, or something happened that made him introspective. It had also not escaped your notice how the prior closeness between you two had halted. Now you wondered if there was something more to his demeanor.  

 "Well, that is most unfortunate for him since I am not interested in him."

 "Does your mother not want you to marry?" Osferth asked, his voice deceptively neutral. 

 Sighing, you leaned back on your hands. Eventually you knew Osferth would bring up the topic, he was your friend after all and you were certainly of marriageable age. Actually far too old to not be married by some people's standards, but you ignored them. "She does but she has told me that she will not force it upon me. She said I should make my own choice….that if I am able, I should choose love."

 You knew your mother offered you that choice in hopes your life would turn out differently than her own. 

 "But if Cedric is a good, kind man….could you not love him….or someone like him?" Osferth pressed. 

 "Perhaps. There are plenty of men I have seen who the church would call a 'good' man but are cruel in their own home, and there are many men who are calloused but it's obvious they love their wife and children. My love doesn't discriminate, between the sinners and the saints. I would rather choose a man whom I know loves and cares for me than a man I know is 'good' but carries no love in his heart." You paused, the candid confession rolling off your tongue before you realized it. Sighing, you ran a hand over your hair before quietly saying. "I just….I just want someone that loves me….sinner or saint."

 Not a word was spoken as all three contemplated your statement, the silence hanging heavy like a brewing storm. Tilting your face to the sky, unable to meet the gazes of your companions, you chastised yourself for the candor with which you spoke. Osferth had asked a simple question initially and you chose to make it complicated. They did not need to know how you longed for love, how the hope for it in your potential future was what kept you going. It was foolish and you supposed after this, they would only see you as a silly girl with outlandish dreams of a storybook romance. 

 Finally, Osferth broke the silence. "Well, I shall be praying fervently for this man….hopefully he knows what he is getting into before he marries you."

 You laughed, appreciating his lighthearted comment. Reaching a hand out to smack Osferth's arm, you teased. "Keep that up and you won't be invited to my wedding."

 "Your mother will let me in."

 "Yeah, you're probably right." You glanced over in the direction of the town, regretting that your time away had to end. "I need to head back, those chores won't finish themselves."

 The three of you headed back to the town, quiet contemplation cloaking your group. Yet you feared that whatever spark lay between you and the Dane had been extinguished forever by your unexpected honesty. For still he refused to look your way, keeping his gaze focused forward. If your heart fissured within your chest, you swallowed down the pain. It was better for the spark to die out now then burn brightly only to be smothered later. 

 Or at least that was what you told yourself. 

 *****

 "What you said….about the sinners and the saints…."

 You whirled around, heart leaping into your throat with a silent scream on your tongue. In the small herb garden behind your house, you had thought you were alone. After the awkward conversation on the hill earlier that day, you sought solace in your chores. Thankfully Osferth and Sihtric headed back to meet with their companions on their own accord, leaving you to trudge through your muddled thoughts with all the grace of a newborn foal. 

 Now you found the very person who your thoughts centered on, standing just a few paces from you….and your heart began to race for a very different reason. 

 When his voice trailed off, those dark eyes that set fire licking through your veins dropped to the ground, you quietly stood up from where you had knelt, wiping the dirt from your hands, although you moved no closer. 

 "Sihtric?" You tried to prompt him. 

 "Is it true?" His piercing gaze lifted to meet yours, stealing the very breath from your lungs. "Your love doesn't discriminate?"

 "Yes." You breathed out. 

 He nodded silently before taking a step closer to you. "And what about….what about Danes?"

 Your chest pulled tight at his words, yet a coy smile grew on your lips. The flutter in your belly made your gaze drop for a moment as you tried to stifle the excitement making butterflies dance. Although this was no declaration, it was the closest the two of you had talked about what lay between you. Taking a steadying breath, you prayed this moment would not pass by without confessing the truth that you had harbored in your heart for weeks now. 

 "Not even towards Danes." You shook your head, the smile still on your lips. "And…. There is one I'm becoming quite fond of lately."

 "Yeah?" He took two steps closer, somehow moving cautiously but eating the ground with each determined step. 

 "But….do you think this Dane could be….fond of me?" You softly murmured, feeling as if your heart lay in the palms of your hands for all to see. 

 That last step separating you two disappeared almost before you finished asking your question. His hands ever so gently reached over to take yours, entwining your fingers together. The two of you stood so close, your chests almost touched with each breath you took. Your breathing seemed to cease under the intensity of his gaze and a shiver raced up your spine. Yet you had no desire to withdraw from him.

 "He would be a fool not to." He whispered, the barest hint of a tremble in his voice. "I'd bet you are constantly on this Dane's mind. That he cannot go a day without seeing your face and hearing your laugh. You are the first thought that he wakes to and the reason he falls asleep with a smile. That you have become the north star that it seems the gods have been guiding him towards for his whole life."

  As he spoke, everything faded to oblivion around you. The past and future vanished. Dane versus Saxon disappeared. The world narrowed down to this….this moment….this moment that you had dreamt of but never thought would come true. 

 The two of you continued to stand there, lost in one another's eyes with fingers intertwined. Your heart raced within your chest but a cooling breeze swept away the fears that plagued your mind. For staring at him, you knew he spoke no falsehoods. That he owned your heart just as much as you owned his. That very heart you could feel hammering away in his own chest. His eyes fervently held yours, a silent conversation, a confession, spoken only in looks but you both understood the language. His gaze dipped down to your lips, tracing them before slowly rising once again to your eyes. A curl of pleasure blossomed in your core as you witnessed the fire now in his eyes. 

 "If this Dane wanted to kiss me…. I wouldn't mind."

 A deliciously, sinful smirk teased his mouth. "As my lady commands."

 His head tilted, leaning towards yours. Unconsciously your eyelids fluttered closed. Then the briefest of touches made your knees weak and your mouth part open in a sigh. After a moment's hesitation, he continued to shower your jawline with kisses. Needing to touch him, your hands landed on his chest, feeling the tunic that covered his firm chest. Your hands moved upward to grasp the back of his neck, his pulse jumping for a second as your nails scraped his skin. His hands landed on the curve of your waist, bringing you even closer to him, erasing the unwanted space between your bodies. 

 As his lips began their ascent upward along the otherwise of your jaw, you moved. For the burning sparks in your body screamed if he did not kiss you, you would spontaneously combust. Shifting your face, you stole a kiss on his lips before he could place it on your skin. It was more of a gentle pressing of your mouths, but even then, you heard a sharp inhale from him. Before you could question him, his mouth returned to yours with soft, probing kisses that urged you to respond. Not that you would ever deny him. What started off as a gentle flame quickly became a roaring fire. Breathing became unnecessary, for how could air bring you life when your body craved Sihtric, when your lungs demanded to breathe him in instead. He led you in a drugging kiss that had you melting against him. Your lips drank from one another as if that alone could sustain you forevermore.  

 "THANK YA, GOD!!" 

 The passionate kiss abruptly ended as Sihtric and your gazes darted towards the side of your house. Only to be met with the sight of his three companions standing at the entrance in various states of smugness. 

 "Oh, for the love of Odin…." Sihtric mumbled. 

 You buried your face in Sihtric's chest, face heated in embarrassment but unable to stop the giggles that poured forth. So caught up in finally confessing your feelings and kissing the man who haunted your dreams, you forgot that anyone could walk by and see you. His arms tightened around you, keeping you within his protective, loving embrace….and you knew there was nowhere else you would rather be. 

 "Took the two of ya long enough." Finan continued, leaning against the side of your humble home with a shit-eating grin. 

 "Amen." Osferth had a small, teasing smile on his face. "Thought I would have to lock them in a room together before one of them finally confessed."

 Apparently, you and Sihtric were not as subtle as you previously thought. Now it made sense why Osferth was questioning you about Cedric and your thoughts on love and marriage earlier. Your heart flooded with gratitude towards your childhood friend, for without him you doubted neither Sihtric or you would have spoken up. Peering over, you caught Osferth's eye and mouthed a quick 'thank you'. He nodded, a simple joy radiating from his face. 

 "Lord?" Sihtric called over with a blank expression. "Permission to continue?"

 Uhtred chuckled. "I guess you've waited long enough. Go ahead." 

 Without waiting a moment longer, Sihtric tipped your face back up towards his and claimed your lips once more. You vaguely thought you heard laughter coming from the others but it all blurred away, like a faint sound while underwater. All you could see, all you could feel, all you could hear was Sihtric. 

 Just how you wanted it. 

 Suddenly you yanked your head back, your breathing labored and lips swollen. "My mother is helping at a nearby farm today. She won't be back until it's dark."

 He hummed against your skin trailing small kisses along your jawline and down your neck as if unable to keep his hands and mouth off you now that the dam had been released. 

 "I'm not as pure as Osferth thinks me to be."

 That statement made his actions stop. Carefully he raised his head to meet your gaze. "After dark?" He confirmed, voice rough in a way that sent a bolt of heat through you. 

 "Yes, she planned on having supper with them….so my home is currently empty….and I did just clean my blankets the other day…."

 He swooped in to give you a feverish, greedy kiss that left no doubt where his mind had gone. When he finally pulled back, you were surprised your legs could still hold you upright. Your whole body felt like puddy in his arms and he had only kissed you, albeit you doubted you would ever forget the way his mouth worshiped yours. 

 "You are certain? You want this?" He softly asked, staring into your eyes once more. "You want me?" 

 It was the last question, the vulnerable undertone, the hint of insecurity in it that sealed your decision. Letting your actions be your answer, you grabbed his hand and started pulling him in the direction of the door to your home. It did not take more than a second for him to come beside you, wrapping his arm around your waist. 

 With his taste on your lips, the future did not matter right now. It did not matter that he was Dane and you were not. All you knew was Sihtric was neither a saint nor a sinner, but simply a man deserving of love. The river of your love was pointing you directly towards him, and you silently vowed to never let it run dry. 

[fedzkun]

Villain Hunt Arc Meta: All For One’s Horrific Guide to Methodically Breaking Down Your Local OFA Holder

Ft. Turning the ‘Overpoweredness’ of OFA into a Setback, and AFO’s Successful Manipulations Of Midoriya Izuku

In which I also give AFO too much credit for all the pain he’s probably caused, and theorize that his plans to break Izuku actually started getting enacted even before he’d escaped Tartarus.

(A.k.a. me loving the angst because this is really good angst writing, but also hating it because the manga doesn’t come with a Angst with A Happy Ending tag unless you count Izuku’s ‘this is the story of how I became the greatest hero’ which isn’t really a guarantee of happiness )

So. What an arc! In the span of ten chapters (starting from the end of the War arc) Hori delivered a full-on Villain-looking, Vigilante Midoriya Izuku. Congratulations, Horikoshi, for finally introducing Akatani Mikumo!

The fast pacing and lack of breather panels are so fitting for this arc truly. AFO never gave them a moment’s rest. Yes, from henceforth as he’d promised... It’s always going to be his turn.

Izuku is making amazing progress with unlocking the full power of One For All. In his words, his abilities might as well already be on par with what a healthier All Might could do, and with no recoil to boot. Plus, there’s only one last quirk to unlock. For villain fights, I don’t think we need to worry about him losing, or him breaking anymore bones at this time.

Which, some might argue, makes Izuku too ‘OP.’

To start with, I want to talk first about the ‘overpoweredness’ of the One For All quirk. It’s a wonderful quirk truly, having inspired and amazed so many because of its sheer power. Used well, it could grant instant victories and restore the people’s wavering faith to the heroes. Because with a quirk like that on your side, everything’s going to be alright, right? There’s always gonna be that bit of hope that something is still strong enough to stand against the looming evil...right?

Yeah. That’s what the people who’d lived under All Might’s Era of Peace thought so too. History repeats.

OFA’s ‘OP-ness’ is both a great blessing and a great burden.

Here are some points on how the narrative has made OFA's 'overpoweredness' a setback:

1. All For One—that bastard—exploits the urge that comes with OFA. Just as ‘AFO the quirk’s’ goal is to steal OFA, OFA’s job is to defeat AFO, and Izuku is sacrificing himself to its cause.

Here’s another thing I want to point out: The conclusion that the heroes drew about AFO planning to capture Midoriya Izuku alive? In rereading, I’m starting to believe it’s nothing but a mere assumption of his plans. Aside from the deal made with Lady Nagant—of which I think AFO didn’t take seriously anyway and set her up for failure— (and while we as readers are already aware of his true intentions to wear Izuku down) it’s weird that nowhere had AFO directly mentioned to Izuku that he’s going to kidnap him and take his quirk from him.

2. OFA made Izuku so brilliant (e.g. Pros and former Pros alike going “This kid...”) that they really can't help but place all their hopes on him. Sighs. In an ideal world, this would be a dream come true of Izuku getting his due credit for all his heroic achievements Pro heroes have started to do to Izuku what they’ve done all their lives to All Might--which is to put him on the pedestal, while they fall back to cover him like guards/safety net. Hence, falling back to the One Pillar Model mindset.

3. OFA makes Izuku untouchable, not only to the villains, but also to his allies. Prime material to reinforce isolation. And if Izuku doesn't want to be caught, he won't make it easy for either side.

4. OFA IS SUS AF, OKAY? What are the Holders doing?! While gaining access to them makes it easier and convenient to have personal trainers in handling OFA, the vestiges prove to add a lot to Izuku’s mental load. If they’d allowed Izuku to come to the point of being caked with blood and filth, they’re not doing very well at guiding him. Realize that most of their arc interactions with Izuku is Quirk Talk. They, of all people, should know how AFO’s machinations work! Hey First, for the love of god, warn Izuku! He’s showing so many signs of being manipulated that you should be picking up on. please /sobs ;;

Tbf, like, I’m pretty sure that the Holders haven’t been as mentally okay either, which would feed into Izuku’s current mindset.

Now that the setbacks have been listed, let’s dive in to AFO’s plans to toy with Midoriya Izuku.

PHASE 1: Pre-Tartarus Breakout

Speaking of OFA being sus, there’s something that has been niggling at the back of my mind.

All For One basically tells Izuku: “You were my main interest that entire time I was in prison”. So, to pass the time in Tartarus (since he can’t use any(?) of his quirks), AFO has been doing nothing but apparently daydreaming and designing a personal hell for the Ninth Holder during that entire period. HOWEVER, it also made me wonder…

…Even before he’d broken out, had AFO made any moves at all in enacting his plans to break Izuku?

Yeah?

And here’s the kicker: he says that before Blackwhip bursted out.

AFO is a master manipulator. Assuming that Izuku doesn’t have any latent AFO quirk (for whatever reason *coughs* maybe dfo if you're a believer) or that Quirk Singularity has anything to do with it, what is the trigger to Izuku suddenly having access to Blackwhip?

I’d argue that it is All For One himself.

Why? What’s his goal? If you notice during the Joint Training arc, Izuku is feeling pretty confident about his progress. He’s rather happy and feeling blessed, and he is making leaps and bounds with base power OFA.

AFO can’t have that. He can’t allow the Ninth Holder to become too emotionally stable, or else he’d have a stronger will. So by somehow activating Blackwhip, AFO makes Izuku feel like he hasn’t made any progress with his quirk at all. During the evaluations, Izuku mentions that he still needs a lot to work on, and while not all of it is visible, with the way he behaves, it’s pretty evident that his self-confidence has taken a rather large hit.

But, wait! If AFO had tampered with OFA during the JT arc, paving the way to unlocking the rest (like he’d also done during the War arc when he tried to ‘steal’ it then), then wouldn’t AFO be sabotaging himself since he’d be making Izuku a more formidable opponent?

Sure. Except that the quirks inside OFA are mostly useless when it comes to the mental part of the fighting. The only thing they’re useful for is for the current Holder to be able to play keep-away in the physical realm. And AFO could easily just find counters for those through his work on Tomura.

You know how else the situation becomes advantageous for AFO? With every quirk unlocked, Izuku’s goalposts keep on getting away from him, and Izuku will always feel like he isn’t ready or prepared enough. Izuku will push and push himself to master OFA to its fullest, to become more powerful, at the cost of his mental/emotional stability and physical wellbeing as he wears himself down.

And every time Izuku grew more powerful, and became more ‘OP,’ he is burdened with all the aforementioned setbacks that came with it. He could be the most powerful person in the world, but it’s all for naught if he doesn’t take care of himself. This plan is both a high risk and high reward on AFO’s part, and as of the moment, with a bloody Izuku staggering all over, AFO is visibly reaping these high rewards.

PHASE 2: Post-Tartarus Breakout

He’s going to toy with Izuku until Izuku fucking breaks. What follows is his series of actions that instills the desired responses from Midoriya Izuku. Let’s see how the master manipulator plays this game of chess, shall we?

Izuku’s plan: Reach out to villains and try to save them.

AFO’s counter: Kill off those who turn their back against villainy and/or acknowledge Izuku as a true hero.

Izuku’s resulting response: Stop reaching out to villains. Gain an instant victory and move on.

After all, what do you get when you block a hero from showing sympathy? You get an unfeeling living weapon.

---

Izuku’s plan: Work with the top pro heroes to bring down AFO.

AFO’s counter: Make plans that will serve to highlight how the top pros are just slowing Izuku down. (e.g. Making moves while it’s raining, so as to divide them, but also to bring out No. 1 Hero Endeavor’s "slowness" in the rain. Nope, I don’t think that’s a throwaway line at all.)

Izuku’s resulting response: Grows more reckless, often leading the charge.

---

Izuku’s plan: Track AFO down.

AFO’s counter: Lead them to dead-ends. Or when they do supposedly reach something, endanger them.

Izuku’s resulting response: His tunnel vision worsens, as he grows more desperate.

---

Izuku’s plan: All Might following him around is okay since it would help All Might from worrying so much, and Izuku could simultaneously keep an eye on and protect All Might.

AFO’s counters: There are a lot to really fuck with this bond, damn you AFO.

Taint that passing the torch memory of ‘You’re Next.’

Declare that All Might no longer interests him. Liar. He outright stated before that he’s one for keeping a grudge

Send another assassin to Izuku [Underlying Message: You yourself are a walking danger zone to those whom you dearly care for.]

Izuku’s resulting response:

Interpret that memory of ‘You’re Next’ as taking up the position of being AFO’s shiny new plaything, and therefore supposedly sparing All Might from the torment (Unfortunately, making Izuku push AM away is just part of the torment ;A;)

Think that AM is no longer in the direct line of fire as long as AFO focuses on Izuku

Finally, push his last line of morale support away, and completely isolate himself.

Btw, I wonder how All Might feels about Izuku using Nana's quirk to get away from him.

---

The suffering doesn’t end.

Izuku’s plan: Save people.

AFO’s counters: (possibly offscreen) Send more villains and assassins to torment Izuku some more with the knowledge that he can’t save them. Sending villains out also puts innocents in danger.

Izuku’s resulting response: He won’t stop for anything. He won’t sleep, won’t eat, won’t slow down. He will always do his best to save as long as someone is in danger.

His body will keep on moving and moving and MOVING on its own.

--- All For One is very effective as a supervillain. He has managed to make the heroes think that his only goal is to capture Izuku alive for his quirk. He has Izuku right where he wants him: dancing to his tune at the palm of his hand, utterly toyed with, left with no escape in sight.

Psychologically vaulted.

.

.

.

PHASE 3

And so, if Izuku is being manipulated to drive himself further and further into self-destruction, what then is there left for All For One to do?

So much more. Because, my god, I think AFO has mastered the art of traumatizing the OFA Holders.

All For One once told All Might, “I will destroy all that you’ve protected.” And boy, is he delivering. He's definitely not done with AM btw.

First, he destroys All Might's image. And he is manipulating Izuku to drive himself to that point. To looking into his absolute worst.

And when that point arrives, AFO will hammer the final nail home.

Something like...

BEHOLD

JAPAN’S SYMBOL OF PEACE.

And oh, how it'll hurt. To see All Might's pride and joy be flaunted about as looking nothing like a hero to the masses, for him to be so utterly humiliated.

"See what I did to All Might's successor."

AFO will be banking upon the possibility that the angry masses will not want to be saved by whom they're tricked into viewing as someone that's the cause of all the pain. Izuku might have the willpower to stay true to his resolve, but with him on the verge of total breakdown, what would happen when he is shunned by the very people he is trying to help?

I once wrote a post about how the current events seem to be a bastardization of Izuku's wildest fantasies: he's working with the top pros, he has the most powerful quirk, and he's working with All Might (whom technically acts as a sidekick to him rn).

AFO has warped all that into a never-ending nightmare. And Izuku...

Izuku is really in need of saving.

Last thoughts:

Let me just say that it shouldn't be a competition about who gets to get through to Izuku. Right now, he’s gonna need all the help he can get, and it can’t be delivered by only one or two people. Saving Izuku is going to be a team effort, a solid support system that sees Izuku as their classmate/friend/student/actual person that they care about. And there’s sufficient space for that.

More hands reaching out means more chances to catch him if he falls.

[rum-and-shattered-dreams]

Gravity Falls 10th Anniversary List O’ Favorite Things:

OK, Let’s GO! @gf10yearslaterzine​, thanks for the questions/prompts!

1. Favorite Character:

At first, it was:

^Because of that moment^

I started watching shortly after NWHS aired (with no knowledge of the emotions train that would hit when I got to that episode) because I’d seen a few people talking about how funny, cute, and smart Gravity Falls was and instantly liked the girl who made a light-up sweater. Instead of marathoning it, I saved it to watch an episode every so often as a fun pick-me-up for after watching more dramatic/sad/emotional things and eventually caught up right around when ATOTS aired.

Then this happened:

And Ford became my favorite and the show became a hyperfixation. This nerd who survived thirty years of what drove Fiddleford to erase his memory from a few seconds of exposure and who wrote things like Trust No One, who shoots first and asks questions later, and who is so full of trauma just... Played happily along with Giggle Time Bouncy Boots. He was still so passionate for the things he loved, still ready to be silly, just wanted to have a friend because he’d felt alone for so long, and was still trying to do good for the world despite everything. He had his flaws and misconceptions but ultimately, this nerd was doing the best he could with what he had.

Also, I’ve written about this before but it meant a lot, personally, to see his character type allowed to be one of the heroes where most media would villainize someone like him.

Answers for the rest of the questions (and a plaidypus drawing) are under the cut (because it’s easier for my brain to process answering them together and I don’t want to take up a ton of dash space):

2. Favorite Journal Page:

Oof. A Tough one. There are so many hilarious or cute or just well put-together pages. But, I’m going to go with the last two-page spread because it’s so nice to see them all happy like this:

Honorable mention to this one too just because I love the artwork for it:

Oh! and a third mention to the MY MUSE WAS A MONSTER page for the sheer rawness of it.

3. Favorite Monster/Creature:

The plaidypus! So much cute...

4. Favorite Location:

The deep/enchanted forest areas. They’re so pretty.

5. Favorite Episode:

To tie in with the favorite character prompt:

We get to see the family work together, Weird Al is there, Grenda gets to weaponize an armchair, and we get to see who Ford is now, not from the past, not from the journal, and not fresh out of the nightmare realm. Bonus points for Stan apologizing to Dipper for making fun of him. I feel like that was a huge character growth moment for him and more reason to love his character too.

6. Funniest Joke:

Oh man. I’m not sure what to pick here. There’s the classic ones that became memes, of course, but there are also things like Dipper’s internet history and Mabel and the leaf blower. 

Hmm. I’m going to go with basically the entire premise of this:

Getting bored while falling in the bottomless pit.

It’s personally hilarious because on a trip in 2010, a few friends and I saw a well on the top of a mountain and wondered how deep that would have to be if there wasn’t a spring or something. That led to the idea of “at what point do you stop screaming and get hungry or bored or need to sleep when falling into a bottomless pit.” So this episode was basically our thoughts on it.

7. Favorite Game/Book/Merch:

Oof another tough one because, while Journal 3 is probably my favorite, I want to give a shout out to:

I love that it gave us more stories. We got more Pacifica development, creepy faceless Mabel, a post-Weirdmageddon Stan and Ford adventure with bonus Mabel in the multiverse, a smol Stans adventure, and *gestures to all of Comix Up. I mean, how could you not love some Dipper and Pacifica bonding, Stan finding out that Ford is an interdimensional criminal, Baby Stan and Ford bonding, and almost the entire cast hilariously stuck in anime schoolgirl uniforms and thrown into various other comic book personas. 

8. Favorite Song:

Definitely:

Because that whole karaoke thing was adorable. And this actually leads into...

9. Favorite Quote:

“Karaoke is not about sounding good, it's about sounding terrible, TOGETHER.”

The sentiment is applicable to so many things. It’s not about being good or perfect, it’s about throwing expectations and self-consciousness out the window to have honest fun with the people you love.

10. A Special Memory or Moment About Gravity Falls:

Meeting so many incredible people through the fandom; People I’m friends offline with now and who I still chat with about life. It’s been one of the best experiences of my life getting to talk to so many awesome people, see your creative content, and to create my own (This show made me start drawing again and I’ve gotten hundreds of thousands of words in writing practice thanks to writing fics! Plus cosplaying and getting to meet other cosplayers! So much fun!). Thank you to everyone who helped make this show possible! 

[clarissalance]

Who has the upper hand?

Pairing: Kaeya x G/N!Reader, mention of Varka and Diluc.

Warning: Slight swearing, Kaeya is a lil shit, reader being stubborn and scheming, immense tension

Summary: You’re so terrible at swordsmanship that you can’t withstand 2 strikes from Kaeya or, are you? 

Word count: 3k5

Disclaimer: What is written in here is based on my imagination, nothing from this fic should be taken seriously. Most of the fact I put in this fic does not follow the lore of the game so it should only be taken as a grain of salt. For example: section 8 in Knight of Favonius codebook.

A/N: I struggle so much when I wrote this piece. This was suppose to be angstier but I tone down a little bit (because Kaeya was very OOC in my draft, I think he’s still a bit OOC in this fic but I tried my best ;-;, pls don’t bite me.) 

How did author write a 50k+ oneshot? I can’t write something more than 5k properly ;-; Anyhow, please enjoy this fic. I’m going to have a good rest for 2 weeks before release a comeback. Please shower Kaeya and our new MC with a lot of loves!!!! 

As a strategist of the knight of Favonius, you don't usually have enough time to finish the towers of reports, the never-ending meetings and dealing with cheap tricks Fatui diplomats. Often, you have to skip your daily sword training session, which results in a rather miserable situation. The whole practice ground is staring holes at your defeated posture. You are sitting on the hard soil ground, and the Calvary captain is towering you, his sharp blade just a few inches away from your throat. 

It is not a strange scene for any knights to lose a spar against the Calvary captain, he should be one with the best swordsmanship after Grand Master, and maybe Acting-Grand Master, too. However, as knight, they can usually withstand him at least more than 2 blows. 

Whispers and talks start to circulate around as soon as you stepped your foot in the training ground. It’s very uncommon to see people from that department wandering around this area. The strategy department is famous inside the Knight of Favonius to be the weakling-cunning-mouthy-jerks, who always find excuses after excuses to skip the monthly knight evaluation. 

So, who gives them the right to be exempt from the test? Of course, it’s from the ultimate high chief of strategy department. Rumours say before the strategy chief works for the Favonius knight, the man was once a legendary attorney. That person can flip words from black to white, turns the defendant from guilty to innocent.  With a profound convincing skillset coming from the chief, persuading the Grand Master Varka is easy as a piece of cake. The whole department of 10 people is easily off-hook for 3 years, never participate in the monthly evaluation before the man suddenly dropped the bomb 2 days ago.  

“ I’m tired from coming with excuses to cover for your lazy asses.” The man waved his hand, his eyes staring outside the window. His nails scratching the messy shaved chin.“ Varka seems to get used to navigating my thoughts-”

“Maybe time is wearing away your skill-” At the corner, someone accidentally blurted out, and the whole table gave him a sharp look. Did he have a death wish or something? If so, everyone here can happily dig him a hole, free charge for the coffin.

The chief cleared his voice again, blue eyes melancholy drifted to the table. “So, you guys have tried your best on this monthly evaluation. I hope to see you all again next month.” 

The meeting was dismissed afterwards, and everything spiralled into chaos. The whole department hasn’t touched anything aside from the parchment papers and the quills in the last 3 years. How are they going to master the swordman-ship in 2 weeks? 

But, the worst thing is,

Your well-respected, talented, and tactful chief has run away. 

The next morning, you received the news that a foxy old man is on a business trip to Fontaine with the Grand Master. The expedition is 2 weeks long.

You should have known what he meant when the deceitful man ambiguously ended his sentence like that. Nothing goes well when the chief said:  ‘Farewell, my comrades’. 

 For the last 2 days, you have been starting to familiarize yourself again with how to hold a sword and how to swing the sword. 

As you trail along with the long-forgotten memories, trying to look through the familiar feeling when swinging the sword, you hear footsteps coming in your direction. It is familiar, with the way the person is walking, the beat, the sudden burst of noise in the air, you can only conclude it’s the Calvary Captain. The practice ground seems livelier as soon as the man steps inside, people rushing to his side to give their greetings. Maybe today is one of his practice days.

 “ Never thought I would see you here.” The young man calls out, successfully jostle you up from your thoughts. You give him a complex look and turn away, focusing on the tattered dummies. Your wrist is screaming in protest, legs wobbling. You remember those golden days when you were young when you were flexible, and your bones didn't crack as much. Oh, where the golden days have gone? 

“What do I own the honour of seeing you here, captain?” You fold your arm defensively, voice monotonously. Kaeya despites the most when you start talking in an emotionless tone. Oh, how you love riling him up in the middle of the practice ground! 

“ I come here for my weekly practice, but-” He shrugs, eyes glinting with mischief. “ look like the rumour about the abolishment of special permission for the strategy department is true.” 

So he has heard the rumours. You roll your eyes, face blanks. You know Kaeya has his own way to obtain his information, but you never thought it’d be this fast. Words don’t easily leak from the strategy department. 

“What do you need? Make it short, so I can practice for the upcoming evaluation.” Tired of his long introduction, you ask him directly. If you are going to ignore him any longer, the man will continue poking you. 

Starting an argument only wastes your time, and asserting dominance in the middle of the training ground won’t boost your ego. You’re a strategist, your weapons are detailed plans and sharp word, not sword and bow. Showing off your strength in front of those ruthless knights don't improve your relationship with them. 

“ Straight the point eh?” You give him an impatiently look, tempting to ignore him again before he flashes you a smug grin. “How bout sparing with me?”  

The whole training ground falls in silence, and you direct at the captain a confusing look. Is he serious? No one in the knight except the Grand Master can go against him, not to mention someone who hasn’t touched a sword for three years. 

“I can help you with your training, and you can help with mine” Kaeya speaks with utmost confidence that you almost nod and agree. That man is really deceitful, he knows how well your skill has gone dull, yet he still wants to practice with you? What is this man plotting?  

“ Do you realize how absurd your offer is? ” You give him a complicated gaze, voice unwavering. Everyone takes in a deep breath, tension crackling. It's not everyday scenery you often encounter. A heated argument between the mischievous cavalry captain and the tactful strategist. Nosy people gather around the pair, internally hoping for the war the breaks out. 

“ You know well that I can’t properly block your first strike.” Light-hearted, you joke, but there is no hint of amusement in your voice. Sharpe eyes glaring at the blue figure, you notice the man remains unfazed. 

" Shouldn't you choose a more competent opponent?" 

The sound whispers and talking about the reasons why Kaeya picked such an easy opponent start to circulate, and you can’t help to curl your lips up. Within a  few seconds, you have effortlessly turned the gossiping direction toward your desired path. Flashing Kaeya a victorious grin, you tap your foot impatiently, waiting for his reaction.

You should have worked at PR damage control or marketing instead! The diplomat would have been fine too! At least, you wouldn’t need to practice swordman-ship.

As you mulling on your terrible choice of career, a chill runs down your spine. Tilting up, Kaeya is beaming sweetly at you, the frost slowly creeping up and nipping your shoes. Look like you just pressed the wrong button. 

The man narrows his eyes, and you gulp nervously, avoiding his calculating gaze. Kaeya chuckles, his voice laced with worry, wavering and hurtful. 

“I just want to help you improve as fast as possible. The test is coming in two weeks isn't it?” 

The whole table has turned, and people start to say how considerate and thoughtful the cavalry captain is. The crowd starts to criticize you and tell you to be more grateful and stop suspicious of his unconditional help. Oh, you wish he wasting it on you, many knights in this training ground would love getting advice and improvements from him. 

Applause for our dear Calvary captain, smoothly seeking empathy from the crowd and turning the favour back to him. No wonder how fast he climbed up the rank. 

Bantering and arguing with a person like him is meaningless, so you accept his offer and drag your sword toward his direction. Let finish this within 2 strikes. 

Moving to the centre of the field, both of you face each other, his eyes scanning you sceptically. What is this man plotting again? Bowing, you finally give him a warning look before standing at your ready position. Kaeya holds his sword, analyzing your starting posture. 

As soon as the whistle blows, you charge at the man, opening the spar with a direct hit. Kaeya quickly raises his word up to block the first blow, the sound of steel clashing loudly. He then forcefully diverts the sword to the left, a classic way to counter the strike. 

Knowing your limited strength against him, you take a step back and swiftly angle the blade downward, aiming for a weak spot at his waist. This move would create a noticeable weakness on your right, and only the idiot doesn't use this as his advantage to disarm you. 

You’re right, he uses the loophole you planned, successfully disarm you within 2 strikes. The sword slips from your hand clanging loudly behind as your foot slips and fall on the ground. 

His sharp blade is just a few inches away from your neck. The calvary captain wears a solemn look, his cerulean eyes imbued with irritation. Seems like he figures out you purposefully planed to end the match in 2 strikes. 

Quickly raising your hand in defeat, you shoot him a taunting grin. The referee declares Kaeya is the winner, and people start to clap and cheer loudly, but overall no one is surprised. As the match end, audiences start to disperse, return back to their tasks. 

Kaeya put his sword away and offers you his hand. You stare idly at the gloved hand a moment before putting yours on. The man effortlessly pulls you up, your body flush against his. With Kaeya so close to you, your first reaction is to push the man away, but his firm grip says otherwise. He inches closer, dark blue locks brush your cheek, tall figure towering you intimidating. 

“Why end it so early?” He leans down and whispers, your body tenses up visibly. “Surely, you could handle more than 2 strikes of mine.” The young man in blue hums, his voice sultry. 

“ What are you saying? I haven’t touched the sword more than 3 years.” You remind him, hands pushing his chest away, trying to create some distance. The man doesn’t budge an inch. 

“Your strikes doesn’t say so. The first strike was not bad.” Noticing your effort to push him away, Kaeya stands straight, heels dig into the ground. His lips curl up at the helplessness flashing in your eyes. He loves seeing you struggle, seeing how anxiety and desperation rising in your sparkling orbs. “I think you could at least have a decent fight with me.”  

“ Quit spouting non-sense Kaeya, let me go. We are in public.” You let out an annoyed hiss, punching his toned chest. He still wears the uniform improperly like that, the exposed tan chest can be under many layers. Sometimes you don't even know the reason why doesn't he just button the shirt up properly. Finger grazing at the bared skin on his chest, you turn your head away, cheeks heat up. 

The man loves seeing you squirming in his trap, and you’re not going to let him see that. Anything, but satisfying his masochist hobby. 

“You don’t like skin-ship?” The man fakes a gasp, his orb sparkles with mirth. “But you were being touchy with your friend. Why can't we be a bit touchy? ”  His tone suggestively, the tall man snickers at your blushing mess. Out of everything, why would he mention that? You give him stinky eyes, brows furrow deeply.  

“I’m not touchy with you.” You deny dreadfully. Archon, how long have you wasted your time here with this slithering serpent? 

Kaeya arms wrap tightly around you, your body moulds perfectly into his embrace. You hate how perfectly you fit into his hug like this, but you can’t deny how warm he is, despite the fact he wields cryo. 

“ When will you let me go?” Your voice starts to grow weak, dragging slightly in discomfort.  Kaeya curiously looks down, noticing your pouting. Sensing his gaze, you turn your head away but his fingers have quickly grabbed your cheek, forcing you to look at his deep blue eye.  

“Give me a kiss, then I'd let you go.” His voice serious, but what he just said is not. You look at the cryo wielder horrendously, mouth gaping. His face is composed and relax, like what he just ask is like asking about the weather, asking about your health, not for a kiss. Is he being serious? What in the world did he just ask? A kiss? Excuse me, a what? 

“You...you are not being serious.” You wriggle your way out, escaping from his fingers, but his embrace tightens, caging you inside. Damn it, Kaeya. He’s messing with you. 

When you flash him a furious look, the man shrugs nonchalantly, his cerulean lock fluttering gently in the wind. Suddenly, you have an urge to wipe off that calm demeanour. He can’t be serious. Why does he have to go all the way to annoy the shit out of you? 

The smug grin hanging on his face, the mischief in his blue eyes, the arching brows, everything about him screams a flirt, yet you feel so mesmerized. Blinking a few times, you have to constantly remind yourself this man is not trustworthy. From the attitude to the way he looks at you, to the way he acts around you. Nothing from his action is truthful. Like Diluc’s warning, you can only believe half of his word and action. 

“ Of course I’m being serious.” His voice solemn, but you can see the amusement in his eyes. If he doesn’t like you, why would he spend so much effort bothering you this much? What reaction is he expecting from you?  

“ I really like you, Y/N” Kaeya confesses cheerfully, and you can faintly hear a few gasps around. Not this again...

Archon, you’re going to die early at this rate. You just want to practice for the upcoming evaluation, not becoming a hot topic for all Mondstadt citizen to gossip about. 

And this man too, how can he easily slip out those words when you just heard him flirting with another woman the other day?  You already told him numerous times that you’re not interested in dating him, or anyone right now! 

Hung your head down in exhaustion, you tap his shoulder, mumbling quietly. “ Fine, fine.” You finally open your mouth, too exhausted and bothered by his stubbornness. He only wants a kiss, and you won’t hurt giving him one. Just a kiss then you can get back to your practice.  

“Just don’t confess your love to me in a crowd like this again.” Before closing the deal, you weakly add a bargain, nudging him.  

The calvary captain looks surprised, his eye widens little, not expecting you to agree. Normally, it takes another argument or two before you comply with his request. Kaeya timidly raises his gloved hand to your face, gently caresses your cheek. This time, you lean into his touch, nuzzling your face into his palm, eyes glimmering softly. Despite a cryo wielder, his hand is surprisingly warm. 

The man in blue curiously peeks at you, he feels like a feather tickling the itchy spot. Are you plotting an escape route? Since when did you become so obedient? He has never seen the soft fur under the spiky façade you set up to face with the world, but strangely, he likes this version of you more. 

Noticing his relaxed stance, you carefully gently wrap your fingers around his wrist while keeping eye contact with him. Kaeya eye widens, startles at your sudden touching. Trying your best to not break the unspoken connection, you bring his hand away from your cheek. In those cerulean eyes, you see a hint of disappointment, but it quickly dissolves. Slowly, you draw closer toward the hand hanging in the air, lips fluttering on the smooth skin on his wrist. 

The calvary captain instinctively moves back, trying to escape from your sudden contact. Ironic, he is the one who innates the hug and demands a kiss from you. Tightening your grip, you press your wet lips on the exposed part of his wrist dedicatedly while maintaining eye contact with him, eyes drown with submission.

Kaeya stares at you in awe, maybe not expecting the passionate look in your eyes. His azure eye fills with mischief, now replaces with confusion and hesitation. You notice how his ears have dusted with pink despite the winds blowing in the practice ground. The man avoids your eyes, flustering. 

Whispers and gasps start to remind you of the crushing reality, so you let his hand down while grinning cheekily at the cryo wielder. Poking and breaking Kaeya meticulously façade is always something you want to try. The man is a living devil, so it’s extremely unusual to see him losing his composure. 

Sneakily, you untangle his other arm wrapping around your waist, plotting an escape route. 

However, Barbatos doesn’t let you slip away that easily. Quickly regaining his composure, Kaeya snakes his hand around your hip again, tightening his hold. Unlike the first time, the sneaky bastard lifts you up and has the audacity to throw your body on his shoulder, carry you like a sack. 

“ Yah! What are you doing?” You exclaim, fluster at his sudden antic. Kicking and punching on his shoulder, you try as many as you can, but somehow, Kaeya manages to dodge all of them.   

“ You said you will let me go when I give you a kiss!” The crowd uproars, stares and gossips poke pointedly at your back. You don’t want to hear those comments from those knights again. They're not going to let this live down, aren't they? Bury your face in the Kaeya's furry collar, you let out a frustrating sigh, punching his shoulder as hard as you can. 

“ You give me a kiss on my wrist. That doesn’t count.” Kaeya nonchalantly strides away from the practice ground, unfazed by your attempt to escape. This man is a beast, how can he not budge an inch with all of your kickings on his shoulder? 

“ You didn’t specify the place. A kiss is a kiss!” You emphasize, and you can feel his shoulder shaking. Is he laughing? “You didn’t keep your promise.” Fuels by the rising anger, you kick your leg aggressively, struggling to free yourself from the iron-clad grip. This time, his strong arm wraps around your calves like a chain.  

As soon as you raise your head up, the familiar pathway hits your memories. Shit, he is heading toward the headquarter, likely to his office. You can’t let anyone in there see you in this state. Punching his back profusely, you shot back. 

“Not fulfilling the contract is breaking the Knight of Favonius's code of cond-.” Before you can finish your sentence, the man smacks your calves loudly, successfully shutting your mouth. Speechless by his sudden punishment, you let out a disbelief breath.    

“ There are no such a section states about fulfilling contract inside the code of conduct, so stop making the rule up.” Kaeya smugly grins, and you can already picture his blue eyes glinting with mischief, the signature shit-eating grin on his handsome face.

" There is, it's in section eight-" Before you can finish your sentence, Kaeya cuts in, waving his hand dismissively. 

" Section eight is about interaction with your co-worker, there is none about keeping contracts." The calvary captain humming, trying to recalling the content of the book. Speechless by the detailed memories of his, you can only close your mouth, quietly waiting for him to drop you down. If you stay still on his shoulder, will he let you go? 

" You know, not everyone reads and memories the knight of Favonius handbook, you are just unlucky that I know the book by heart." Seeing you deflate weakly on his shoulder, Kaeya lets out a chuckle, patting your head comforting.       

Before heading inside the HQ, the man doesn't drop your down but leans in closely, his whisper tickling your ear. “But at least I had fun seeing you squirming in my grasp.” 

And then it hits you, the bastard purposely falls for of your antic. 

[cheekygreenty]

Hi, I just saw your prompt list for Shadow&Bone!! could you possibly do No. 2 from Angst, but like with a happy ending? Like reader n Kirigan are togeather but then Alina's comes along.. just, please let be happy at the end. I like angst, but my heart can't handle sad endings 😢😢 thank you!!! ❤❤

Future- The Darkling x Reader

(Very very angsty with a happy (?) ending. It made me cry a lil bit writing it ngl)

You trusted him, wholeheartedly. At least that's what you told yourself every day since she came to the Little Palace; the place you had always called home, where you felt safe from the prying eyes of the public.

Yet now, the place was fueled by harsh rumors of him and her. Everywhere you went you could hear a whisper, nobody tried to hide it anymore, the words were always entirely devoted to your crumbling union;

'I thought they were happy'

We were.

'How can he and Alina not be together, it's destiny.'

I'm starting to think so too.

You didn't acknowledge it. Just put on a sweet smile and a brave face. Don't let them see you're hurting. Even in your own home, you had to pretend and lie, which at the end of the day, when you laid in an empty bed, made you exhausted.

He told you she meant nothing more to him than a mere weapon. But that was when she first came and when he still managed to make it to your shared chambers and would whisper sweet nothings as you fell asleep.

It was different now, on more than one occasion you caught a glimpse of them together, him looking at her the way he always looked at you. However much he claimed to be a good actor and manipulator, there was something there and he couldn't deny it either.

You hadn't confronted him about it yet fearing that if you did, the truth would hurt and sting and make all those rumors true. In addition, you haven't seen him in days and the last time you did, he told you to stay away from the wonderful Sun-Summoner.

The truth was you knew deep down in your heart that she wasn't at fault. That she was not the root of the problem. You constantly fought with yourself to stop any hatred you felt towards her. She was lovely, kind compassionate, and innocent. She didn't deserve to feel your wrath.

But with that came the confusion of who to blame. You or Him. It made you tired and weak. The smallest of tasks made you drained and tears would well in your eyes at the thought of having to live another day like this, a day full of questioning yourself and the man you loved more than anything in the world.

No matter how much of a strong person you swore you were, this was taking a substantial toll on you. He had become your support network and he knew it, he loved it. He always said he finally felt appreciated when you came around, that he wasn't alone anymore. He had conditioned you to be this way. When times got tough, he was always your shoulder to cry on.

No doubt that shoulder was now next to Alina. Perhaps they went on a horse ride, visited the Black Heretic fountain, or were enjoying a rendezvous next to the lake.

You didn't want to know, all that mattered was that he wasn't there with you when you were falling apart. Maybe you relied on him too much.

You wondered if he noticed the whispers too, or the way you'd been missing crucial meetings, or even if he noticed you wearing your red kefta more often, ditching the black once you'd heard Genya speak of making a golden-black kefta for Alina, per the Darkling's request.

That was a punch in the gut. It hurt more than him avoiding conversation with you or even his deterrence of touching you. He had bestowed his colors to her when not even three months ago he didn't know she existed. It had taken you a long time to gain his trust and don his signature black yet all she had to do was waltz in and show up. And it hurt.

And now here you were, training the next generation of heartrenderers, as you did almost every day. You had given your life to the Little Palace and its Grisha and this is how you were being repaid. Not even Ivan, who you had shaped into an excellent soldier, had looked your way lately.

'Excuse me Ms. Y/L/N I have an urgent request from the General' You whipped your head around to the young Grisha boy with an obviously hurt look on your face which he couldn't understand.

'Of course' you choked out and took the piece of paper from his hands and watched him in sorrow as he left.

Ms.Y/L/N? what happened to moya sovereignny? You were never one to uphold the formality, but this was just another blow to your confidence. You were no longer referred to as his other half which only meant your position in the palace was quickly dwindling.

You opened the wax-sealed envelope and took out the thick sheet of paper. There was a time when he himself would deliver the news to you himself and use it as an excuse to spend extra time with you.

'I cannot make it to the meeting with the King this evening, attend and report back to me anything relevant, no horse business'

You scoffed loudly, drawing attention from the young Corporalki around you and leaned on the table in front of you. Not even a please or thank you. With the note clutched in your hand and tears of frustration in your eyes, you stormed out of the Corporalki room and towards his war room.

You peeked through the open door and seen him. He didn't look at all busy as he chatted with Zoya, Ivan, Fedyor, and some other Squaller you didn't recognize. Zoya threw her head back in laughter at something Fedyor said but Aleksander kept his stony expression. You threw the door open dramatically and everyone froze.

'Leave us' you cautioned as Aleksander's onyx eyes looked right into your own.

Nobody moved but Zoya was the first to speak ' Y/N, we're actually in a meeting if you couldn't tell' while everyone nodded along, except him.

You never had anything against anyone in that room, but in that moment you couldn't help yourself and used your small science to bring everyone to their knees in front of you, except him.

'Leave us' His voice rang out in the midst of their sharp breaths and chest-clutching. They scrambled to their feet and left one by one, Fedyor quietly muttering 'moya sovereignny' as he passed you which filled you with some courage. The door shut and the sound echoed over the walls.

You threw the note across the room and let it hit his arm. 'Did you forget your manners General? Or does it only apply to the people you claim to love?'

'Funny you should say that Y/N, you haven't attended any meetings in weeks without providing a reason. You're making me look like a fool'

'I'M MAKING YOU LOOK LIKE A FOOL?!' Your tears were now streaming down your face, falling quicker than you could wipe them away.

He stayed silent and that broke your heart even more, he could've said something, anything.

'Aleksander, I'm trying to keep myself together for everyone, I'm trying so very hard to appear normal and happy but I don't think I can do this any longer. The whispers and the rumors, watching you and her-' You slid down the door and sat on the floor, head resting on your knees. '-It's getting to me.... and it's killing me.'

You thanked the Saints you didn't see his face, for the silence spoke for itself. He didn't deny anything or reach out to comfort you. I've lost him.

'All I wanted was a happy ending.' You laughed a sad laugh that pulled at his heartstrings. With your eyes still facing away from him, you didn't see his hand go up to wipe the lone tear that fell down his face or the slight shake in his hands as he did so. He had no words that would comfort you. He knew what he'd done. He'd been avoiding you ever since he realized it. He didn't want to see you cry or see how his actions affected you.

Telling you that it means nothing to him was of no use. You had it in your mind now, forever engrained around his name, the rumors wouldn't stop and Alina was still around. He truly felt nothing of importance for her. All she meant for him was a key to a better future with you.

He approached you slowly, getting down on his knees next to you. He took your hand in his and held it up to his lips. He never prayed, but right now he silently muttered words to all the Saints. Don't let her leave.

'I'm so sorry Darling. Y/N I love you so much.'

'But you love her more' You yanked your hands away.

'NO. no. Y/N. I swear it. You are everything to me' He had grown serious now, he wanted you to look at him. He missed you.

'Then explain why you're parading her around like a Queen, letting her wear your colors, probably sleeping in her bed'

'I have never toucher her in that way. I'm yours Y/N.' Please look at me.

You lifted your head and looked at his beautiful face. He too looked tired, exhausted. His eyes were red and puffy. Saints, I've never seen him cry.

'You will have a happy ending. I promise Darling' He took your face into his hands and connected your foreheads together. 'I promise. I'm doing everything I can to make sure you will, and even if I can't, I swear you will you and our children-'

Children. Aleksander never spoke of them to the point where you had settled with the idea you'll never have them. Something about the desperation in his voice made you believe him, Aleksander was strong, he never gave up but he also never sacrificed himself for anybody. Up until now, you didn't think yourself worthy enough to be saved in exchange for him.

'-I would give up everything to see you and them safe, away from harm's way. Right now, the world doesn't deserve them, but once I do what I have to do, I'll give you children. However many you want, Just stay. Please'

You were borderline hysterical as you melted into his embrace. Weeks of frustration and hurt disappeared into thin air. Aleksander held you so tight you were having trouble breathing but you didn't care. He held you all day and all night. All meetings and tasks forgotten.

He explained everything in detail, from the stag and firebird to what happens if things don't go to plan. He kept nothing from you, not even the stress and pressure he felt. You comforted him as he always does to you. You fell asleep together and dreamed of a life with a happy ending, one where you never had to doubt his motives, you dreamed of your future.

Taglist (if you want to be added, plz tell me!)

@theonelittleone @searching-for-gallifrey @lostysworld

@0-artemis

[sorryimananti-romantic]

Hide and Seek | Kang Seulgi

police!seulgi x criminal!reader au

word count: 5.2k

genre and warnings: angst, suggestive, violence

(i do not own anything except this story)

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

“Hands in the air where I can see them- and drop your weapons.”

A smirk creeped on my face as her voice rang through my ears- the familiar voice I was addicted to now. I did as I was told and dropped my dagger on the ground, the clattering of it ringing in the empty alley.

Empty except for me, my prey who had run away thanks to the police officer who was now twisting my hands behind my back, clipping handcuffs while I just smiled.

It was her. Again.

“You are under arrest for the attempted murder of an innocent civilian. You have the right to an attorney-”

“Oh please,” sarcasm dripped from my voice, “We’ve done this so many times, Seulgi. No need to repeat the same shit-”

“That’s Officer Kang to you,” she tightened her hold on my handcuffs, “Mind your manners.”

I scoffed, “You know, there’s another scenario that could be playing right now, with you handcuffing me- ouch!”

“Say things like this again and I’ll dig this gun deeper in your back- and maybe even shoot,” She growled in my ear, pushing me forward, making me walk to the police car. “Get inside.”

I huffed, obeying, pretending to look out of the car and watch the city fade by as we travelled to the police station, when in reality, my mind was occupied with two things, one of which was observing every step the police took and taking in everything- the escape routes, the protocols, etc.

The other… well. It concerned the very pretty officer sitting in the first seat-

“How many times are we going to do this?” Seulgi sighed, “We are one step away from getting your lawyer off your back, and then you won’t be able to walk free in the streets, ever.”

“That one step, honey, is gonna be one very long step and before you take that, I’ll have my backup ready.”

“Why are you even talking to this psycho?” The driver, a very annoying and fat man, scowled at me through the rear view mirror, “Don’t let this shit get through your head-”

“Don’t let me get through your head, mister.”

“Shut up,” Seulgi glared at the two of us, “My head is about to burst, I need silence.”

Unlike the other times when I would keep rambling nonsense and keep teasing Seulgi, this time, I kept quiet. Very, very quiet. And it was getting harder to hide the smirk from my face to see Seulgi squirming in the front seat, my gaze burning her, until she finally looked back at me, just a few minutes away from the station.

“You’re quiet today.”

I didn’t reply. Let it get to her. I only met eyes with her once, no sign of any emotion on my face and continued looking outside.

Let her think she had me this time. Let them think they have the upper hand.

As soon as we reached, I was escorted straight into my cell. The people here were familiar with me now- the maniac who never killed but almost did every time, the spoiled brat with connections so I was let out every time I attempted something. I was free.

And I was in control- I had everyone in the palm of my hand.

I knew Seulgi was watching me while she did whatever she was doing- wondering why no one was coming to my escape this time, wondering why I had rejected the offer of a phone call that I always took.

I felt victorious when, after a few hours, everyone had left-leaving me and Seulgi, who was packing her stuff to go home.

“Always working late, are you?”

With satisfaction, I watched Seulgi jerk at my voice- as she had almost forgotten I was still here. She confirmed my suspicion by saying it out loud.

“What are you really doing here?” Seulgi, finally having finished up, stood in front of my cell.

“You tell me, officer.”

Seulgi scoffed, “Officer? I’m seeing a lot of firsts from you today.”

I scoffed. “What are you doing, Seulgi? I thought you couldn’t stand the sight of me- as you’ve so often told me. What are you doing here, standing so close to me?”

The way her body jerked as if she hadn’t noticed me come closer and closer every second brought a grin to my face. She tried taking a step back, but I grabbed her wrist- making sure my grip was loose but not loose enough. My thumb caressed her wrist but I made no effort to bring her closer. But from the look on her face- her eyes wide and mouth parted open in surprise, she knew I could do so many things to her.

But I didn’t.

I let her go.

Seulgi glanced at her wrist, then back at me, her expressions soon changing into a glare. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“You tell me, Seulgi,” I sat back on the floor. “What do you think I’m doing?”

With that, Seulgi left and my body rumbled with laughter.

This was going to be fun.

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

I was released the very next morning. And it seemed my plan had worked perfectly.

It had become a game of hide-and-seek now; me, who always got caught just at the right time by Officer Kang. It was a wonder that no one had made the connection yet.

I smiled as I wore my black outfit, gloves and mask- tonight was going to be fun.

Seulgi, of course, had been as disturbed as always to see me get released and not being escorted to the prison despite my long list of attempted murders. I always told her she should blame the people of this country for not abiding by the law and catching criminals like me instead of blaming me.

And she, of course, did not understand that.

Just before I had stepped out of the police station after being released, I had caught Seulgi’s eye- a very intense glare. I raised an eyebrow, and she just muttered that she won’t let me get away.

“You wouldn’t have to, Seulgi. Next time, you don’t have to let me get away.”

With a wink, I left, leaving her eyes wide with confusion.

I tightened my gloves as I ran over the plan again. Truthfully, I hadn’t the whole plan etched in my mind- but I knew how to get where I wanted to.

It was going to be the same trick- just the game that would be different this time.

Right before midnight, I left, knives sticking out from my belt hidden by the long raincoat I wore, strolling through streets and alleys until I finally found my prey.

A group of three girls were bullying one girl. A smirk formed on my face as I watched them, not attempting to break the thing apart. I decided to follow one of the bullies- the one who looked like the leader.

But before that, I walked to the victim, looming over her beaten figure, not offering her help, just observing her.

“How long are you going to be weak?”

“Don’t rub it in my face,” she moaned in pain, “Who are you anyway? Another bully?”

I shook my head, bending down to face her, “Do you want me to get rid of your bullies?”

I didn’t miss the glint that passed her eyes before they furrowed in confusion, “What are you going to do?”

“You should call the police,” I got up, straightening my coat and putting a hand on one of my knives, making sure the girl saw it and her eyes went wide with horror, “Tell them the girl’s about to get murdered. Tell them where I will be. And if you scream, it won’t be her who’s getting murdered tonight. Just do as I said.”

The girl had to gulp twice and slap herself before she took out her phone and I winked at her before following the trail of my prey. The other two girls were saying goodbye, and my prey was walking all alone in an alley.

“Perfect,” I muttered, following her until I heard the familiar blare of police sirens, right when I ran at her and threw her to the ground.

“Hello, little bully,” I pointed the knife at her face, “Want me to carve that permanent smirk you so like to wear?”

She screamed and I hit her temple with the hilt of my knife, “Shut up, bitch. This is what you get for being a scum.”

“I-I won’t do it again, I pro-promise. I’m sorry!”

I threw my head back as I laughed, dragging the knife down her arm, making blood spill, the girl struggling to move but failing because of how I had her trapped with my body on top of her. “How does this feel, sweetheart?”

I took my sweet time tormenting her, leaving little scars here and there until I heard the footsteps draw closer, which was when I raised my knife in the air-

“Hands in the air!”

I smirked, but pretended to sag with disappointment as I turned around, grinning as I saw Seulgi pointing her gun at me, and I dropped my weapon.

This was the last time I was dropping my weapon. The last time I was going to be submissive.

“There you go,” I shrugged, and Seulgi came to handcuff me, and as soon as she had cuffed my left hand, I grabbed her hands from my right hand and brought her closer, making her bump into me as she tried to wriggle away, horrified.

“Alone tonight, are you?” I scoffed, “Fell right into my trap, Seulgi.”

“What trap?” Seulgi scowled, glaring at me. I grabbed both her wrists by my cuffed hand while my free hand ran over her uniformed body.

“You ever wonder why I never actually murdered anyone?”

Seulgi raised a brow, “Because you don’t have the guts?”

I gave her a pointed look, “Nice of a police officer to provoke a potential murderer. No, Seulgi. It’s to mess with that little, stupid head of yours. Look at you, so distracted. Do you like me holding you like this?”

Seulgi turned her face away as I laughed in her hair, my face travelling down until I was breathing in her neck. I brought my mouth to her ear to whisper:

“I don’t see you struggling, sweetheart.”

She pushed me away, and I shook my head in warning, revealing her hand cuffed with mine, twirling the key to the handcuffs in my finger, proving just how distracted she had been to not notice me fishing out the key from her pocket.

“I swear to god, if you don’t give it back this instance-”

“Chill!” I un-cuffed her and put the key back in her pocket, “I was just messing with you.”

“You are under arrest for attempted murder, bla bla, you know the drill now, don’t you?” Seulgi, finally calming down after having taken a deep breath, dragged me to the car as she said the usual words, making me sit in the backseat.

It was time to play with her.

As we drove in silence, I scooted in the middle, staring holes into her. Seulgi tried her best to ignore me as she drove.

“I wonder why everyone was so busy tonight,” I pretended to play innocent, “It’s not like they had new evidence on a cold case, right?”

Seulgi almost hit the brakes as realization settled in. “What are you playing at?”

“You have two choices, Seulgi. You know I planned this. You can let me go and this game we’re playing will end right here. Or… you can take me to the station and you’ll become a player in my game- you’re already halfway in, by the way.”

“What. Game. Are. You. Playing. At?”

Seulgi was seething- something that made me grin. “Hide-and-seek, Seulgi. I know how you love to play that with me.”

Seulgi was breathing deeply now, as she tried to concentrate on her driving. The two minutes to the station while she made her decision had to be the longest two minutes of her life. She stopped the car in the parking lot, both her hands still on the steering wheel as she racked her brain, trying to come to a decision.

“We don’t have all night, Seulgi.”

“I can’t let you go.”

I raised my brow, a grin creeping on my face, making her roll her eyes. “I mean, I can’t let you roam around the streets and let you kill someone, as much as I would love to let you go and never see you again. So, you’re coming with me.”

“You are so gonna regret this before you start to love this.”

“I don’t know what’s going on in your head,” Seulgi got out of the car, opening the door and grabbing me by my arm harshly. “But this is over for you now. Whatever game you think you are playing, it’s not gonna work-”

I stiffened, turning harshly and putting my cuffed arms around her neck so that Seulgi was trapped between me and the car, smirking as I stared down at her, her eyes wide. I let her feel the adrenaline I knew she was feeling as I pressed my knee on her thigh, making her breath hitch.

I scanned her face slowly, making sure she noticed, before saying:

“It’s already working.”

She didn’t take her eyes off me for the few moments before we were interrupted by one of the officers threatening to shoot me if I tried something. I sighed, letting Seulgi go, waving my cuffed hands at the officer, satisfied when I saw her trying to get herself together.

“There’s only two reasons you’d look the way you’re looking right now, sweetheart. A dishevelled, flustered mess. One of them is that you’re scared of me- which I know you’re not. So… you know what it is now.”

“Don’t think for a second that I could ever feel that way about you-”

“What way, exactly, are you talking about?” I raised my brow, feigning innocence.

Seulgi, defeated, sighed before grabbing my arm harshly and taking out her gun, digging it into my back, earning a groan from me. “You’re shit.”

“Can’t say I’m not,” I let her drag me to the cell, watching her the entire time she was in my vision, pleased to see her squirming due to my burning gaze. I waited until everyone was gone or sleeping before starting to whistle.

“Can you keep it down?” Seulgi slammed her file on the table, and I turned to raise a brow at her.

“Make me.”

Seulgi only rolled her eyes, and I continued to whistle the same tune over and over until I saw Seulgi freeze from the corner of my eye.

“Made the connection yet?”

Her mouth was parted open in surprise as she racked her brain for where she had heard this specific tune-

“You followed me?”

“Did I now?”

Seulgi slammed a hand on the desk, rushing to my cell, gripping the bars, “How long have you been following me?”

I got up, treading towards her, licking my lips as I scanned her tense figure. “How long do you think?”

“Can you, for once, answer my question without a question?”

“I can, if you come inside.”

Seulgi bit her lip, thinking of whether she should be stupid and enter or be wise and just let me be. I smiled internally in satisfaction- her eyes betrayed her, always.

“I guess you’re not coming inside. Go away if you’re not.”

I turned to sit, but stopped when I heard the keys clinging, and I couldn’t stop myself from smiling this time. She had taken the bait. Entering, she shut the door, putting her hands on her hips.

“Spill.”

“Where do you think you heard it?”

“I don’t think there’s one specific place…”

“Correct. Do you remember when we first met?”

Seulgi scoffed, “I don’t think I can forget the first time I handcuffed you- you were an animal-”

“Uh, let’s skip that part. Sure, I might have been a tad bit… aggressive. But Officer, that wasn’t the first time we met.”

Seulgi felt like a bucket of cold water had dropped on her. She stumbled a step back in realization, “It can’t be…”

“Oh, but it is, Officer.”

Seulgi was having a rough day- she had a very messy blind date, she wasn’t doing well with the murder case her squad was handling, and she just needed a break.

She sat on the bench in the very empty park, looking up at the dark sky. Even the moon was hidden. She sighed, wondering how she would ever muster up the strength to go back home.

Her attention was caught by a faint whistling tune. She turned her head to look around but there was no one there. She busied herself scrolling mindlessly through her phone when she heard footsteps, ignoring what sounded like a person jogging until the said person stopped in front of her, panting for breath.

“Can I sit here? I don’t have the strength to jog to the next bench.”

Seulgi eyed the person standing in front of her, shrugging as she nodded, and watched as the person took a long drink of water before smiling at her.

“Why jog at this time of the night? It’s not really safe out here these days.”

“I could ask you the same question.”

“I’m a police officer, actually.”

“Then I’m safe, Officer.”

Seulgi shook her head, bringing herself back to her senses. “But you… You’re not…”

“Do you remember that time, Seulgi? You and me, sitting on the bench all night while you let your guard down and talked about how you had such a bad day…” I creeped forward, Seulgi frozen in her spot, “I’m surprised you didn’t recognize me earlier. My disguise isn’t that perfect.”

If Seulgi was being honest with herself, she would have admitted that she had been reminded of the person she’d met that night once or maybe twice. But she had pushed it off as it just being a resemblance.

Because there was no way this was happening, right?

“I know you want me, Seulgi. Do you remember that time I was injured and you tended to my wounds like a good little girl?”

The both of us immediately went down memory lane-

“Are you stupid? Why would you risk your life apart from the victim’s?”

“Don’t tell me you care about my life, Officer.”

“I’m just extremely annoyed right now because there is no one in the station except you and me. Why do I have to be your nurse?”

“Oh come on. I’ll go to the hospital when I’m let out tomorrow- you know I will. I just need you to do something about this quick-” I pointed at the gash that ran down my arm, from near the elbow all the way down to the wrist. Seulgi rolled her eyes, searching for the first aid kit and then putting it outside the cell first, taking out the key to the handcuffs and entering, cuffing my unhurt arm with the bar.

Bringing a stool in front of me, she gripped my arm, turning it around to examine the bleeding scar, pretending my gaze wasn’t burning her. She glared at me once before cleaning the wound while I just watched her gentle movements.

“Why are you so kind, Seulgi?”

“What do you mean?”

“You shouldn’t be doing this. I’m a… criminal. But you always make sure I have water, or food- if I insist.  And you… care about people even when they’re like me. Why?”

“It’s my job-”

“No, this- this isn’t your job,” I sighed. I wasn’t particularly feeling high and ‘manic’ like my other days. Tonight wasn’t planned. It was just an unfortunate incident where I got caught and Seulgi being like this… wasn’t helping.

Seulgi put the cotton down and locked eyes with me. “You’re all humans. I cannot leave anyone like this.”

I just stared at her, my gaze going down to her parted lips. She noticed, clearing her throat and continuing to clean the wound.

“Do you ever think about leaving this job, just escaping from everything else and starting new?”

“Do you?” Seulgi started applying an ointment on my wound.

“We all do, don’t we?” I sighed, “If I had the chance… I’d leave, Seulgi. I’d leave this life behind, go to an island… or maybe the mountains. It would be just me and my cats-”

“Cats?” Seulgi laughed a little, and I smiled, despite myself.

“Yes, Seulgi, cats. I don’t always go around bloodthirsty, you know. I have a life too.”

“Right.”

“Anyways, I’d bake cookies. The house would be small, and there would be books, and I’d sit by the fireplace. Sounds good, doesn’t it?”

“It does, actually,” she nodded, and I noticed she was done, but still had my arm in her hand, staring at the wound.

“It’d obviously be better if I had human company too…”

“So you could kill them later?” Seulgi finally looked up at me.

“I’d never do that to you.”

For a second, Seulgi was surprised- and so was I, because I had obviously been thinking of her when I said that. Seulgi shook her head, tucking her hair behind as she started packing the first aid kit, about to leave when I gripped her hand.

“Can you… stay with me- for a few minutes? I… tonight wasn’t something I was expecting.”

Seulgi wasn’t sure what I was referring to, but she put her kit down. “You sound vulnerable. For once.”

“I am,” I admitted, slumping back, “I am so vulnerable right now that you can do whatever you please with me. Kill me, kiss me, I won’t care.”

“There is no killing or kissing happening,” Seulgi shook her head, but I smiled when I saw a ghost of a smile on her face too, “As much as I would like…”

“Kissing me?”

“Killing you,” Seulgi smiled sarcastically, “I’d have to hold my temptations.”

“And if I can’t hold mine?” I leaned forward, taking her hand in my free hand, bringing her closer, “if I can’t resist?”

“Killing me?” Seulgi asked.

“Does it look like I’m about to kill you?” I asked, my eyes scanning her face, the two of us so close we could feel each other’s breath on our skin.

Seulgi made no move to scoot away- as if mesmerized, she sat still, only her eyes roaming around my face, as if trying to read what I was thinking.

“You can go, if you want to,” I whispered, my hand caressing her arm and then moving up her chest, all the way to her neck, until it went to cup her face, and Seulgi couldn’t calm the roiling in her stomach.

How could someone as savage as the person in front of her have such a fragile touch? Hold her like she could break?

She forgot what I had just said, her breath quickening every second as I drew closer and closer, until our foreheads were joined. But I heard the sound of the keys dangling. We had company.

I drew back, scanning her face once before kissing her forehead, good and slow. “We have company. Go.”

Seulgi sat frozen in her spot- until I tapped her face lightly. “Go.”

She stumbled as she took the kit and left, forgetting to cuff me back. I just slumped back, watching her, smiling at how the night had turned out.

“So,” I smirked at how Seulgi was clenching her head now, as she made all the connections.

“Are you… doing this all on purpose? How long have you planned this?”

“Would you believe me if I told you it wasn’t on purpose? That our first meeting- as normal people, and as a police and a criminal were both coincidental?”

“I don’t think I can…”

“Come on,” I turned around, pretending to walk in the cell when I was actually un-cuffing myself from the key I had replaced in Seulgi’s pocket. “I’m a criminal, maybe, yes, but I’m not a liar.”

“I wouldn’t put that past you,” Seulgi countered, “You’ve been stalking me. Am I one of your next ‘victims’? Is this what all of this is about?”

I turned, smiling, approaching her until we were face to face. “Look at me, Seulgi. Look me in the eyes and tell me if I’m lying.”

While she took the bait and looked me in the eyes, I took the cuffs off one hand, took her gun out of her pocket in the blink of an eye and before she could react, I threw it outside the cell from the slightly open door, her neck whipping as she saw just what I had done, and I gripped both her wrists.

“Got you.”

In a second, I cuffed her right hand with my left and threw the key outside too.

“Are you out of your mind!” Seulgi slapped my face- or at least tried to- she was interrupted with me dragging her across and shutting the cell, the keys outside dropping to the floor.

“Oh my god,” Seulgi, horrified, slammed her fist in my chest repeatedly, “What have you done!”

“I told you to let me go, didn’t I?” I growled in her ear, and she went still, her fist still on my chest as she sighed in frustration. “You did this, Seulgi.”

I put her dark hair behind her shoulder, running my fingers across her jaw as I whispered, “It’s just you and me tonight here, baby. I made sure of that. No one will know what happened, not even the cameras- it would be over before the morning. So relax… and let go.”

Seulgi was helpless- she couldn’t do anything now- and ashamed. She had been too distracted. She had played right into this trap.

“Relax,” I whispered, bringing my lips to her ears, trailing it down her jaw as I tilted her face up, “I know you want this.

“Why are you doing this to me?” She almost whispered, “Why me?”

“You had me, Seulgi. Right from the very beginning. There’s just something about you that I couldn’t resist. I’m all yours- do whatever you want with me.”

Seulgi bit her lip, trying to hold herself together, but every move I was making was affecting her, shaking her from the inside out. Her legs were growing weaker, and she wasn’t sure if it was from the situation she had just caught herself in- or something else entirely.

“You have no idea how much I’ve been wanting to do this.”

I held her chin in my hand as I kissed her right cheekbone, then her left, locking eyes with her- but she wasn’t looking at me anymore.

“Don’t look away from me, Seulgi. There’s nothing wrong with what you feel right now… we’re all… humans, aren’t we?”

Seulgi scoffed at me quoting her but changing the context entirely. I nudged her face up and she finally looked at me, her eyes glazed.

“This is wrong-“

“There’s nothing wrong with this,” I assured her, “Obviously would have been better if we were in different circumstances, but Seulgi- there’s nothing wrong with this.”

It was like she was compelled- she shut her eyes, unable to hold the eye contact any longer. I smiled as I rubbed my nose with her, her sighs fuelling me.

“Tell me you want this. Tell me you do.”

I planted butterfly kisses on her face, stopping before I reached her lips.

“I’m going to ask you one last time. Tell me you don’t want this, and I’ll let you go right now. Tell me you want this-”

My breath hitched when I felt her fisting my shirt, her other hand that was cuffed to mine intertwining, her nails digging into my skin.

“Don’t make me say it out loud,” she whispered, despite herself.

She should be fired from her job. She was going to be so ashamed after this- but she couldn’t stop. She brought me closer and I cupped her face as I brought her lips to mine.

It was indescribable- the feeling of finally having someone- this forbidden something we had- but it was like a drug, and she felt it too as she kissed me back with a need I didn’t know she had in her. Her hand went to cup my face as well, my breath hitching this time as she kissed me, harshly, as if she was punishing me through this.

“Slow down,” I broke apart, smirking.

“Slow down?” Seulgi mocked, “This is what you wanted, isn’t it?”

My brows furrowed in confusion, but when she pecked my lips lightly this time, I relaxed.

“I shouldn’t be doing this, should I?”

“Let’s not think about that,” I kissed her, slow this time, taking in the marvelling feeling of how our lips fit as if made for each other, our stomachs roiling as our free hands roamed around, until she bit my lip and I took that as a sign to put my tongue in her mouth, our kisses growing quicker and more passionate as we made out.

Seulgi pushed me back and back until I hit the wall, and I growled into her mouth- it was time to show her who really was in control. I turned and slammed her body into the wall, my knee going in between her legs making her breath hitch harshly as she stared at me, eyes full with lust.

“Look at you,” I caressed her jaw with my thumb, “Look at how much you want this.”

For maybe an hour it was just us making out, whispering dirty little things in each other’s ears, me telling her that this was okay, that us made sense, that we should just forget about being a cop and a criminal while we were at it.

“Seulgi,” I sighed into her ear while she was playing with my neck, “Do you want to run away with me?”

Seulgi paused, burying her face in the crook of my neck and I hugged her this time, somehow the hug hitting me harder than the passionate make-out we just had. “We could have that life, Seulgi. Your dream life- whatever you want, wherever you want. Just say the word.”

“What about work, and my friends-”

“It’s your choice, Seulgi. I won’t force you into this. I know you have a life here- however… boring it may be. We’ll have to stay low-profile for a good while and then, if you want, we can let your friends- only the close ones- know. They won’t recognize me anyway so it shouldn’t be a problem.”

Our cuffed hands were caressing each other as she thought, and I just melted into the hug because if she disagreed… it would be our last time being this close to each other.

“If I don’t agree?”

I sighed, kissing her head, “I’ll leave. Forever. I can’t have a forced relation- not with you.”

Her arm around my waist tightened.

“Then let’s run away.”

[j3ssisam3ss]

Childhood Friends - Fluff

For @animebookworm16

It got kind of long and I’m not really sure it still counts as fluff, but here’s my piece for @maribat-angst-fluff-april, prompt 25, Childhood Friends.

Damian Al Ghul-Wayne was five years old the first time he met a girl his age. And in typical League of Assassins style, he went for efficiency by meeting ten at once.

“These are your betrothed,” Talia told him. “All but one will be dead by your twelfth birthday. You will marry the sole survivor on your eighteenth birthday and produce an Heir to carry on the great legacy of the League of Assassins.”

Nine of the girls heard the words without so much as a flinch. The last stared in shock at Talia, then broke into tears.

“Quiet, Marinette,” Talia hissed.

“No,” she yelled defiantly, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I want my mama!”

Talia backhanded her and she fell to the floor with a yelp.

Damian surveyed the girl – Marinette – with distaste.

“Mother, surely you don’t consider this sniveling coward worthy to compete for my hand?”

“Her mother, Sabine Cheng, was our best assassin for years before she turned traitor. I suppose she’s lost her touch if she raised such a weak daughter.” Talia shrugged elegantly. “No matter, if she turns out to be useless, we’ll ship her mutilated corpse back to Sabine as a reminder of what happens when you cross the League.”

She waved the girls away. “To your training now.”

Damian watched as Marinette sniffled and followed the other girls out the door.

She won’t last a week.

He had no idea how wrong he was.

.

Marinette Dupain-Cheng was five years old the first time she won a fight. And in typical Dupain-Cheng fashion, she did so in the most unpredictable way possible.

“You’re going down, pigtails,” shouted a pretty brunette, charging at Marinette with a sword that was as tall as she was.

With a startled shriek, Marinette darted away. She hated how behind she was here. Back home, she was good at everything – reading circle, art class, tussles when the teacher’s back was turned. Here, it felt like she was constantly playing catch-up.

Not to mention, the constant threat of death was not fun.

Skidding around a corner of the labyrinth arena, she tripped over a protruding stone and fell to the ground. The brunette grinned viciously, advancing towards her.

Marinette smiled nervously. “Can’t we talk this out?”

“Not a chance, shortie,” said the brunette.

Marinette glanced around frantically.

I don’t want to die!

She reached for a rock, a stick, anything that could help her fight, but came up with only a handful of sand. With a pleading glance heavenward, she flung it into the brunette’s face and lurched to her feet, grinning when the girl had to stop to get the grit out of her eyes.

Taking off into the labyrinth of passages, she nearly stumbled again, this time over a nearly buried metal object.

She shifted away the dirt surrounding it and smirked. “Finally, a weapon I know how to use.”

Ten minutes later, the watching League members straightened in surprise as the smallest and weakest of Damian’s betrotheds utterly decimated her opponent.

With a frying pan.

.

“What are you doing here?”

The two children spoke in unison, glaring daggers at one another.

“I always come here,” Marinette said. “It’s my drawing spot.”

“The vents are my domain, Dupain-Cheng,” Damian said. “Get out.”

Two years’ worth of resentment and anger simmered beneath Marinette’s skin.

 Drawing is the last thing I have of home. I won’t let him take it from me.

“No.”

Damian looked thunderstruck and Marinette couldn’t keep the smirk off her face.

“I am Heir to the Demon! You will obey me!”

“You may be Heir to the Demon, but right now you’re also a kid skipping classes,” Marinette argued. “And if you make me leave, I’ll tell Talia exactly where you go when you’re not in class.”

Ha, take that, you tyrant!

Damian froze. Marinette watched as emotions overtook his face – anger, resentment, then acceptance.

“Fine,” he grumbled.

Marinette smiled and returned to her sketchbook – which wasn’t really a sketchbook, just some loose papers she’d tucked into her history book.

A few minutes later, Damian peered over her shoulder. “What are you doing?”

“Drawing,” she said, holding out a few of her older sketches, the ones she wouldn’t mind losing if Damian decided to rip them. “There’s your mother fighting, cook making soup, the sunset from this other spot in the vents – actually, that one’s pretty bad because I didn’t have any colors.”

Damian stared at the drawing of his mother.

“I’m keeping this,” he announced.

Well, at least he didn’t tear it up.

The next week, when Marinette arrived at her drawing spot, Damian was already there. With an annoyed grunt, he shoved a sketchbook and colored pencils into her hands.

Marinette looked between him and the supplies in confusion. “What’s this for?”

“Teach me how to draw.”

Marinette bit her lip, looking longingly at the colored pencils. Then, she pushed them back towards Damian.

“I want you to give me weapons training. As often as I teach you drawing.”

I may be naturally talented at combat, but the other girls have been training their entire lives. I need to catch up.

Damian eyed her suspiciously. “That’s against the rules.”

“So? Are you scared?”

“Never.”

“Then it’s a deal?”

“It’s a deal.”

.

Damian lunged, making a displeased noise when his quarry danced out of his reach.

“You’re slow today, Dami,” Marinette teased. “Losing your touch?”

Marinette was no longer the scared little girl she’d been at five, or even at seven. She’d thrown herself into her training with single-minded determination and two years of training with Talia by day and Damian by night had made her a formidable – and snarky – combatant.

“Never,” Damian replied. His next attack nearly threw her off-balance.

With a grunt, Marinette recovered her footing and countered with a flurry of blows that would have left a lesser opponent dizzy.

Damian smirked, parrying each attack easily. “Completely mediocre. Should I tell my mother that her protégé is slipping?”

Although he’d never admit it, Damian was proud of her. She’d gone from being the worst of the League’s trainees to the only one able to keep up with him in a fight.

“Me? Slipping? Not a chance.” Marinette flipped backwards, knocking his weapon away. “Hey, Damian?”

“Yes, Marinette?” He scooped up his katana, readying himself for her next move.

“The floor is lava.”

With a startled intake of air, he leaped onto the nearest table.

“Really?” he asked, half annoyed, half amused.

Marinette giggled, peering down at him from her spot in the ceiling rafters. “I thought we could use an extra challenge.”

Damian glanced up at her. “You just like having the high ground.”

“Technically speaking, it’s the high rafter,” she pointed out.

“Either way, it won’t prevent me from defeating you,” Damian said, pulling himself into the rafters.

At that moment, the door opened and they both immediately went still.

“Damian? Are you here?”

Marinette raised an eyebrow at him. “Skipping again?” she mouthed.

Damian shrugged in response.

Rolling her eyes, Marinette gestured to the vents behind him. “I’ll meet you in the lower training rooms to finish our bout.”

“Marinette!” The teacher startled as she caught a glimpse of the pigtailed girl. “What are you doing up there?”

Effortlessly, the girl swung down from the ceiling, drawing the teacher’s attention away from Damian’s hiding place.

“Just improving my arm strength, Mistress Eva.” As she distracted his teacher with false information about his whereabouts, Damian climbed into the vents.

Marinette makes a surprisingly tolerable ally.

.

It didn’t seem to matter how many people Marinette killed; it never got easier. Surrounded by the bodies of Deathstroke’s traitors, she retched.

She was alone. Somehow, in the midst of the fight, she’d gotten separated from the rest of the League’s loyalists.

I need to get moving. I’m an easy target right now.

With a shuddering breath, she climbed to her feet and made her way out of the compound and into the shadows. It was there, staring at the ruins of the League’s strongest base, that the realization hit her.

“I’m free,” Marinette whispered, tears trickling down her face.

The Head of the Demon was dead, his followers scattered.

“I can finally go home.”

She ignored the voice in her mind that said her home was here, with the League, with Damian. She ignored the tightness in her chest at the thought of never seeing Damian again. She ignored the fear that he might already be dead.

The League kidnapped me. Talia abused me. Even if I managed to be happy here, I owe the Al Ghuls nothing. A vow of loyalty made under duress is no vow at all.

Her hands curled into fists.

And if they come for me again, I’ll be ready.

.

Damian scowled as their plane descended into Gotham.

“This is imbecilic. I should be assisting you in decimating our enemies, not hiding like a frightened child.”

“Damian,” his mother’s voice was cold. “This is not up for negotiation. You will stay here and train with your father.”

“Yes, Mother,” he replied bitterly. A moment passed, then he tilted his head in thought. “But what of my betrothed? If she is to be my equal, should she not train with me?”

Talia studied him carefully. “You use the singular of betrothed,” she noted. “Despite the fact that three remain alive. I don’t suppose you’d care to tell me which one you consider your wife-to-be?”

“Tt. Your protégé, the Cheng girl, is the only one that even approaches competent. You know this.”

“I also know that you trained her separately – against my orders,” Talia said.

Damian nearly flinched. “And yet you didn’t stop me.”

“I wonder if that was a mistake,” his mother said. “You feel more for her than you should.”

“She is an effective ally. That is all.”

“Then you won’t mind being separated from her for a while.”

“Not at all, Mother,” Damian lied.

.

“Marinette? Is that you?” Her mother looked as if she’d seen a ghost.

Marinette smiled. “Hello, Mama.”

Sabine reached out a shaking hand to cup her face. “How are you here? We saw you die.”

“Sabine, do you know where – ” Tom dropped the pan of croissants. “Marinette?”

He jumped over the counter and raced to her. Marinette took a step back before her mind caught up with her body.

This is Papa, you idiot. He’s not a threat.

She threw herself into his arms, shoving away her fears.

Twisting to face her mother, she said, “I don’t know how my death was faked, but I never died. The League kidnapped me.”

Tom’s arms tightened around her.

“The League?” Sabine’s face went pale. “What did they want with you?”

“The usual,” Marinette said with a shrug. “Revenge on you for leaving and a capable assassin and potential wife for Damian if I turned out to be any good.”

“Who’s Damian?” Tom asked with a frown.

Marinette grinned. “Oh, Damian’s great! He’s the Heir to the League, but he’s actually pretty okay for an assassin. He helped me get good enough to survive. You know, after I blackmailed and bribed him.”

“What?”

.

Meeting his father did not go the way Damian had imagined.

Talia always spoke of Bruce Wayne’s great intellect, his strength in combat, his determination in all things. She never mentioned his brainless playboy act, his absurd prohibition of killing, or his habit of taking in strays. Damian wasn’t sure which one was most offensive, but he was incredibly disappointed in his father regardless.

He had to reassess after he saw Batman at work. When not purposely acting like a buffoon, Bruce Wayne was everything his mother had described and more, entirely deserving of Damian’s respect.

He set out to prove himself in his father’s eyes. It didn’t go well. Whatever he did, it was the wrong thing. In any fight with the imposter sons, Damian was punished – even if he won. Assisting his father with Wayne Enterprises was met with an eye-roll and a request to stay away from Bruce’s office.

It should have made Damian angry but instead it hurt and Damian did not understand why.

And then his father was gone. Richard Grayson became Batman.

Damian became Robin. Finally.

And yet the triumph felt hollow.

Not to mention, it came with strings attached: ‘Murder is bad.’ ‘Justice, not vengeance.’ ‘Robin doesn’t kill.’ ‘Protect rather than avenge.’

Grayson’s teachings were imbecilic. And yet he had to follow them. His mother had yet to finish with the traitors.

He wondered where Marinette was, if she was undergoing similar training, if she fought the way he did to reign in the bloodlust. Considering how she had to hide her dislike of killing, how she helped heal her competitors, he thought probably not.

Slowly, things got easier. Grayson became tolerable. Damian learned to suppress the instinct, the muscle memory that said ‘kill or be killed.’ He found an adoration for animals and learned to deal with his classmates. He finally began to understand why Grayson and his father valued life so highly. His father came back and he chose to deny the League. Wayne Manor became home.

On days when he struggled, he retreated to his room and the comfort of his sketchbook. And if a certain blue-eyed girl made an appearance every few pages, well, who would know but him?

.

Returning home did not go the way Marinette had imagined.

She knew it wouldn’t be sunshine and roses, of course. But she hadn’t expected the magnitude of the changes in her home, or in herself.

School was laughably easy. Marinette had the equivalent of several college degrees. Finding x and learning how to spell ‘earthquake’ was a waste of her time. Instead, she spent class drawing and coming up with increasingly complex plans for fighting off the League should they try to kidnap her again.

She kept herself closed off from her classmates – she didn’t know how she’d ever called them friends. They were neutral parties at best – not one ever stood up for her against Chloe. Her parents encouraged them to give her classmates a chance, but the League had trained her well. Misplaced trust could kill. And Marinette had fought long enough for survival to know that dropping your guard was a death knell.

She hated hurting her parents though.

Though they tried to hide it, she saw the pain cross their faces when she flinched away from hugs. When she moved like an assassin rather than a child. When she gave away her stuffed animals. When she skipped family game night and spent her time training.

She hated hurting her parents. So she changed.

Marinette locked away her lethal grace, faking clumsiness and turning it into an art form. She hid her weapons, training only when her parents were asleep. She returned to family game nights; she initiated hugs. At school, she became bubbly and friendly again, though she trusted no one.

More than anything, she tried to atone. She sought out those in need and tried to help – whether by providing food, babysitting, or making them warm clothing. She discovered an interest in fashion design, but mostly stuck to making the essentials for those in need. She met a tiny floating bug named Tikki and became a superhero.

On days when she struggled, she retreated to her room and the comfort of her sketchbook. And if green eyes and a cocky smirk featured prominently in the book, well, who would know but her?

.

Damian frowned as he followed his brother into Wayne Enterprises.

"I don't understand why it's so important for me to be here."

"C'mon, Baby Bird!" Dick said. "You said you wanted to be more involved in the company!"

"I meant the business side of things," Damian said. "I have no interest in showing around a gaggle of unruly teenagers."

"You're a teenager too," Dick pointed out. "It'll be fun!"

Damian sniffed. "I'm an adult. And fun, really? Surely you don't truly believe that?"

Dick sighed. "Just give it a chance, okay? They seem like really great kids."

They walked into the lobby and Damian stopped short, eyes catching on long black hair and brilliant blue eyes.

"Marinette?"

.

In truth, Marinette wasn't all that excited about the Wayne Enterprises tour. The architecture was interesting, sure, but her class had a habit of making themselves a target and Bruce Wayne's patronage was not helping.

She gave it three days, at most, before they got in trouble with Gotham's Rouges.

Which meant she was on 'keep the class from dying' duty. Joy.

She kept her eyes and ears peeled, which meant that she heard the faint whisper of her name from an unfamiliar voice.

"Marinette?"

Forest-green eyes filled with far too much emotion had her breath catching in her throat.

"Damian?"

With obvious effort, the League's Heir pulled himself together. "Fancy meeting you here, Dupain-Cheng."

His voice. Oh, kwami, it should be illegal to look AND sound that good. Nope. Nope. Not doing this. He's an assassin, get your act together, Marinette.

"Al-Ghul." She was proud that her voice betrayed nothing. "I have to admit, I'm surprised to see you here. This doesn't seem like your scene."

She reached out for a handshake and was taken off guard when Damian kissed her hand instead. She blushed.

"It's Wayne now," Damian said. "I'm... no longer associated with the Al-Ghuls. Or their business."

He's not an assassin anymore? Yes! I knew you were a good person deep, deep down, Dami!

"Really? I broke ties with them several years ago myself."

See that, Damian? We're both good people. Good people that would be great toget - no! Bad Marinette!

Damian grinned. "In that case, I look forward to reconnecting. Perhaps after the tour?"

Oh, kwami, I'm doomed.

"I'd like that."

.

"What was that?" Dick asked in a low voice. "I've never seen you open up to someone so quickly."

With difficulty, Damian tore his gaze from Marinette.

Stars, she grew up gorgeous.

Damian smirked. "Don't be ridiculous, Grayson. I met Marinette over a decade ago."

I wonder, does she still consider our betrothal valid?

"Wait, so she's an assassin?" Grayson blanched. "Who is she here to kill? Who do I have to protect? Ugh! Why can't you ever have normal friends?"

"Relax," Damian chided. "She's an ex-assassin. Like me."

"That does not make me feel better. Who is she to you?"

Damian hummed in thought, running through years of teasing, fighting, and spending time together. "She was my first friend."

And maybe now something more.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

you are my home

this started out as a little concept, and then i thought it might be fun to write a whole fic out of it!

(side note: I know we have no idea if sarah and mitch are having a boy or girl, so i just went with girl ¯\_(ツ)_/¯)

warnings: angst, relationship struggles, arguments

word count: 11.5k (the longest thing i've ever written :) )

"Just an eighth of a cup?"

"That's what it says," Harry shrugged, looking at the recipe on his phone. "Look, one eighth cup of milk. Right here-" He tilted the screen toward you.

"I believe you, it's just weird, it doesn't seem like a lot," you mused, but followed his instructions anyways. You were making chicken parmesan, and the two of you had a rather long history of butchered recipes. It was usually because you were too wrapped up in each other to read the recipe properly. Or because Harry would start kissing you while the food was cooking, murmuring against your lips that "we have plenty of time". Unfortunately, he usually got carried away, leaving you with a flushed face and burnt food.

Not this time, though. You were determined to make this one right. You stirred the milk into the mixture, watching carefully and turning the heat down when it began to bubble.

"Now... we just have to wait while it simmers for a few minutes," you said, setting the spatula down in the spoon rest. "So far, so good."

"I can think of something for us to do for a few minutes," Harry grinned, wrapping his arms around your waist. He leaned down, beginning to kiss your neck, but you quickly squirmed away.

"Nope, not this time," you grabbed the spatula again, brandishing it like a weapon. "Stay back. We're not taking any chances with this one. I'm tired of throwing out charred food and ordering pizza."

"Pizza is good, though," he argued, stepping closer again as you moved farther away.

"Not as good as our homemade chicken parmesan will be if you can just be patient for three minutes."

"Three minutes?" He practically whined.

You rolled your eyes. "You will be fine for three minutes. Wait until the food is done."

He huffed, leaning back against the counter with his arms crossed. "Can't believe you're depriving me of your love like this."

"Yes, you're so terribly deprived," you said sarcastically. "it's not like I've been by your side constantly for the past 72 hours."

"Well, time flies when you're with the love of your life."

You smiled, stepping forward to give him a quick peck on the cheek. Just one. He grabbed at your forearms, trying to keep you close, but you jumped back.

"No," you said sternly. "The food is almost done and I'm not burning this one too."

"Fine," he groaned. "But speaking of 72 hours... I was wondering about something."

You hummed questioningly, stirring the sauce.

"I was just kind of thinking... I mean, we're together all the time. When we're in the States we're together at your place, and when we're in London we're together at mine. So do you think... maybe we should just... officially move in together?"

You froze, suddenly feeling your heart thudding. It's not like you hadn't thought about it before. You had; a lot, actually. Of course you wanted to live with him. You hated being apart from him, and you knew he felt the same about you.

But still, moving to a whole different continent is a pretty big step. You didn't know how that would work for your job, and you weren't exactly excited to be so far away from all your friends and family.

"You don't have to answer right now," He was quick to interject, seemingly noticing how worried you looked. "Not at all. I just... I think it would be nice to have you with me. I just hate all the back and forth, and I'd kind of like to have a place we can call home together."

A small smile spread over your face as you thought about how nice it really would be. You thought of waking up on a rainy morning, cuddled into his side as you listened to the raindrops patter on the window. You thought of baking cookies in the kitchen with him. Taking bubble baths together. Going on walks in the park every evening. All of that would be so much better if it didn't have an end date lurking around the corner. If you knew you wouldn't have to fly back home in a few days or weeks or months.

"It would be really nice," you agreed. "I just... what about my work and stuff?"

"We can figure that out," he said. "We can do it however you want. I'm sure they could set it up so you can work remotely, or you could get a different job in London, or... you don't actually have to work if you don't want to."

"What, just be your little housewife?" you teased, looking over your shoulder at him.

"No," he grinned. "Well, maybe-"

You turned and snapped a hand towel at him before he could finish that sentence. He jumped away, grinning boyishly and holding his hands up in surrender.

"That's not how I meant it, and you know it. But seriously, if you don't want to work you don't have to."

"I would like to be there with you, and know I don't have to leave anytime soon," you said thoughtfully.

"Like I said, you don't have to decide right now. Why don't you just think about it? As much as I want you to, it is a big decision and I don't want you to rush into anything you're not okay with."

Before you could speak again, the timer on your phone went off.

"That's the sauce," you said, turning around and turning the gas off. "See? It's not so hard to keep your hands off of me for long enough to cook a meal, is it?"

He scoffed. "Speak for yourself. I nearly died. Of lonliness."

-----

In the next few days, you thought about Harry's offer a lot. You couldn't deny that you really liked the idea. What could be better than living with the love of your life? Never having to leave to pick up more clothes, never forgetting something important at home, always being in the same country as him. There were just a few things you worried about. Your job, for one. Yes, Harry had offered for you to quit working, but you weren’t sure if that was the best idea. You liked your job, and being able to earn your own money.

Harry was probably right; it probably could be done remotely. But you would kind of miss seeing your coworkers, at least the few you had been close with.

Then there was the matter of your friends. You would really miss having girls' nights, and gossiping about their boyfriends, and getting mani-pedis every month. Sure, you knew you would be back to visit. But you also knew it would be different.

Then, the thing you were most worried about: your family. You had always been close with them, especially your mom. You went to see her and your dad every week, and you called them almost every day. You weren't sure how well you would cope with being so far away from them.

But at the same time, you were incredibly excited by the idea of moving to London. You had been there before, of course, but never for longer than a few weeks. You wanted to get the full experience. You wanted Harry to show you around, take you to his favorite places. You wanted to go to the town he grew up in, see the bakery he never shut up about. You wanted to be a part of his life, in every way.

So, a week after he first asked you, you made up your mind. You were laying on the couch with him, tracing over his tattoos with your fingers while some cooking show played. He was pretty involved, every so often groaning or shaking his head or tsking at the contestants' "complete lack of skills." You weren't paying any attention, though. You were trying to decide how to bring up the conversation from earlier.

Eventually, you decided to just go for it.

"Harry?" you asked, not looking up from your fingers on his arms.

"Hm?" He replied, peeling his eyes away from the screen to look at you.

"I was thinking... about what you said the other day."

"Yeah?" He sat up more, muting the TV. "What about it?"

"I just think- I mean, there's still some stuff to figure out, but I would really like to move into your place in London."

"Really?" His face lit up.

You nodded. "I'm a little worried about my work, and leaving my family and friends, but... I want to be with you. I hate when one of us has to leave. I just want to go to sleep next to you, and wake up next to you, and not have an end date hanging over my head every time we're together."

"I like the sound of that," he smiled, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. "And like I said, we'll figure out your work. And we'll come back to visit whenever you want to. It's only like... a nine hour flight."

"Right, basically nothing," you laughed, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"Right," he smiled. "But really. Any time you need to see your people, we'll come see them."

"We?"

He nodded, seeming confused by your questioning tone.

"You wouldn't have to do that," you shook your head. "I don't want to make you-"

"I want to." He cut you off. "I'm not going to just let you fly for 18 hours all alone. Plus, I'd miss you too much while you were gone."

"That's sweet," you said, a light flush heating up your face. "Also, my family might be disappointed if I came back and you weren't with me. I think they like you more than me at this point."

"That was the plan all along," he grinned.

You hit his arm playfully, but didn't move your head. "So what would that look like?"

"Well, really we could do whatever you want to. We could just move all your stuff into my place, or if you wanted, we could maybe find somewhere new? Somewhere that's just ours."

"Harry, we are not buying a whole new house when you basically have a mansion. That would be stupid."

"I'm actually really glad you feel that way. That mansion was bloody expensive."

-----

"How much longer until your lease is up?" Harry's impatient voice came through the phone.

"One less day than when I told you yesterday," you rolled your eyes. He was worse than a kid waiting for Christmas. He asked nearly every day if he could just pay off the lease for you and have you move right then. Your answer was always no; you had decided to finish it out on your own. Kind of like closing one chapter of your life before you start another.

There were just two weeks left now, and the evidence was all around the place. You and Harry had started to box up your smaller items, and the space already felt much less like home. You had taken pictures off the walls; cleared trinkets off the bookshelves. In the next few days, you were going to go through your clothes and decide what would come with you and what would be donated.

Harry had been excited to help with the whole process, but he had to go back to London a week earlier than he planned. Of course, you weren't happy about this, but you kind of liked having some time alone to say goodbye to the place you had called home for the past five years.

So you did just that. You wandered around, smiling at the patched spot in the wall from when Harry had knocked over a lamp stumbling around in the dark. You ran your fingers over the slight scorch mark on the table from when you made dinner, but forgot to set down a potholder. Your toe scuffled over the nail polish stain on the rug, from when Harry had tried to paint your nails.

All these little things made your little apartment feel like your home. You would miss them, but you had realized something as you thought back to all the memories. Most of them had been with Harry. Yes, you were leaving some memories behind, but you weren't leaving HIM behind. You would make new memories together, wherever you lived. As long as it was together.

"It's just two weeks, baby, and then we'll be together."

"Two weeks is so long," he sighed.

"It'll go by fast," you promised. "It is for me. I'm keeping busy over here."

"Me too," he took on an offended tone. "Very busy. I'm doing lots of things."

"What have you been up to?" You asked, settling back onto the couch. It was weird to see how empty your space was, but it was nice to be able to put your feet on the coffee table without knocking over the various decorations that usually adorned it.

"Some work stuff, but mostly clearing out space for you. You have a lot of stuff."

"I do not," you scoffed. "I probably have less hair products than you do."

"Hey," he cried. "Rude. My hair is luxurious. It takes a lot of upkeep."

You smiled, shaking your head.

“I moved a lot of stuff into the guest closet, so you can have half of the one in our room."

"Really?" You asked, a little surprised. You knew how well organized he kept his closet, so it was a little shocking that he was willing to just move everything.

"Of course. You'll be living here too, you need someplace to keep your clothes."

"I don't think I'll be able to fill half of your closet, though," you laughed.

"Guess we'll have to go shopping, then!" He chirped.

"I guess," you agreed with a smile.

You heard muffled voices in the background before Harry spoke again.

"I'm sorry, love, but I have to go." he sounded frustrated. "I'll call you later, okay?"

"Okay. Love you!"

"Love you too."

-----

"Today's the day!" Harry practically yelled through the phone.

"I know!" You said, trying to match his enthusiasm. You were slightly less excited. After all, you still had a nine hour flight ahead of you. But you knew that by this time tomorrow, you would officially be living with Harry, and that made it worth it.

"Do you have everything packed?" He asked.

"Pretty much. I'm just throwing the last of my stuff into my bag."

"Did you make a shopping list for when you get here?"

"I was gonna do that on the plane. It'll be something for me to do," you said, turning on the speakerphone so you could move around more freely.

"Yeah, good plan," he agreed. "I've said this a few times already, but I'm so excited for you to be here with me."

"Have you? Have you really said it a few times? I wasn't aware," you laughed.

"Be nice to me, I'm just happy," he said, and you could practically hear the smile in his voice.

"I know, I'm sorry," you shook your head with a smile. "I'm excited too. But I have to go now, I have to finish packing."

"Ok," he replied sadly. "See you soon!"

-----

You spotted him right after you got off the plane. He was standing near the gate, searching the crowd expectantly. Once he locked eyes with you, his face lit up in a huge smile. He made his way through the crowd, meeting you with open arms. He acted like he hadn't seen you in weeks, even though it had only been four days.

He buried his face in your neck, holding you tightly against him.

"I missed you," he murmured.

"I missed you too," you breathed deeply, inhaling his familiar scent. "But I'm here now. And now we can go home."

"Yeah," he grinned. "Home."

-----

"Harry, the movers can carry some of it, that's their job," you reminded him as he grabbed one of the boxes.

"Yeah, but it'll go faster if I carry some stuff," he argued, motioning to the door with his head. "Open that for me?"

You did as he asked, shaking your head as he brought the box of books inside. He insisted on helping, even though he had hired a team of movers to do this for you.

"Where do you wanna put these?" He asked, looking around the living room. "They can go on the shelf in here, or the one in our room."

"I'm not sure, I think I want some in here and some in the room. Why don't we go through them later?"

"Sounds good," he nodded, setting the box down in front of the bookshelf. "Another box!"

You shook your head again, going into the kitchen as he went back outside. You started going through the cupboards, checking to make sure you didn’t have any duplicates on your shopping list. He already had quite a few of the items you needed, so you could remove several things.

Once the last few boxes had been brought in, and Harry had thanked the movers profusely, he collapsed on the couch.

"I told you you shouldn't have done so much, now you're all tired out," you joked, going to sit next to him.

He nodded. "You were right. I need a nap after all that." He got up, pushing you to lay down and then crawling on top of you. He laid his head on your stomach, sighing contentedly when you ran your fingers through his hair.

"Oh wait," he lifted his head, already sounding half asleep. "We didn't even get groceries yet. We have to-" He began to get up, but you stopped him with a gentle hand on his face.

You shook your head, running your thumb over his cheekbone lightly. "We can do that later, baby. Just go to sleep for a while."

"Yeah," he nodded slightly. "I'm just gonna go to sleep for a while."

"Okay," you smiled. "Sweet dreams."

-----

When Harry woke up, he was alone on the couch. He frowned at the lack of warmth, grabbing the blanket from the back of the couch and pulling it around himself. He wasn't sure how you had managed to get out from under him without waking him, but he wasn't happy about it.

He planned to go back to sleep, but sighed when his phone buzzed. He reached for it, but then paused for a minute. He decided whatever it was could wait. He retracted his arm, pulling the blanket tighter around himself and snuggling into the back of the couch.

Just as he was about to drift off, his phone began buzzing again. This time, it didn't stop. He groaned, but grabbed it this time. He squinted at the bright light, trying to make out who was trying so hard to contact him.

It was Jeff. There were two missed calls and a text. He swiped on the text, his frown deepening as he read the message.

Jeff: I'm sure you're going to see this soon enough, but the moving van was spotted outside your house. There's already a few articles out, and I'm sure there'll be more. Just wanted to let you know so you don't have to hear it from some trashy website, and maybe you should let Y/N know to stay away from socials for a while. Sorry about this.

Harry groaned, throwing his arm over his face. He had known this was likely to happen, but at the same time he had hoped it wouldn't. He was so happy right now, and he didn't need that to be tainted by rude articles and crazy fans and speculations about his relationships. He just wanted to sit back and relax with his love for a few days, but apparently that was too much for him to ask.

Normally, he wouldn't even look at the articles. He knew they would only be upsetting. This time, though, he felt like he should. He wasn't sure how you would react to this, and it might be easier if he knew what you would be seeing all over the internet for the next week.

So, he opened google and searched "harry styles". Instantly, his screen filled with pictures of the moving van outside his house. There were even a few pictures of him carrying boxes, and one of your back as you walked inside. He huffed angrily. This was supposed to be a happy day, and now he was in a bad mood. His privacy had been violated yet again, and it was hard for him to stay positive after that.

Then he began scrolling through the article titles. He rolled his eyes at the baited language that was clearly meant to create negative responses.

"HARRY STYLES seen MOVING BOXES? Is he going out... or is someone coming in?"

"Harry Styles spotted with NEWEST GIRLFRIEND"

"ANOTHER GIRL? HARRY SHARES HIS HOUSE... YET AGAIN!"

"Just a friend? Or Harry's latest lover?"

"Guess which FORMER ONE DIRECTION STAR is shacking up with his SECRET GIRLFRIEND!"

Against his better judgement, he clicked on one of the articles. His heart sunk further with every sentence he read.

"It's no secret that Harry Styles has been with a lot of women (read about each of his past relationships here). But is there someone new for the Watermelon Sugar singer?

A moving van was spotted outside of Harry's house today, and the star was seen moving boxes into his 8.7 million dollar mansion.

As if that’s not enough, there was a woman seen heading into the house with Harry. Could this mean a new romance for the Grammy winning artist? Well, don’t be too sure. There are many possible explanations for these new living arrangements. Maybe she’s a friend going through a hard time, or even just a family member who needs a couch to crash on.

Or maybe she’s Harry’s newest conquest. Yet another notch in the bed stand! Way to go, Styles!

However, we can’t help but notice: she doesn’t seem like Harry’s type. Come on girl, leggings and a hoodie? And that hair? Apparently, she’s not trying too hard to impress him.

We don’t know all the details yet, but stay tuned! We’ve reached out to Harry’s management for more information. Check back for more updates, and subscribe to our email list so you don’t miss anything!”

Harry clicked off his phone with a sigh. He stood up from the couch, keeping the blanket wrapped around him as he made his way into the kitchen.

No matter how upset he was, he was sure the sight in front of him would always bring a smile to his face. You were wearing one of his t-shirts, dancing slightly to your music as you stirred the pot in front of you. Harry leaned against the door frame, giving himself a few minutes to take this in. He couldn’t believe he would get to experience this every day from now on.

With a fond smile still on his face, he walked over to you. He wrapped his arms around your waist, adjusting the blanket so it draped over your shoulders as well.

“Hi,” you smiled, leaning back against him. “Did you have a good nap?”

“Would have been better if you didn’t get up,” he pouted, resting his chin on your shoulder to look into the pot.

“Oh please, you were totally dead to the world. I’ve been in here for half an hour now, and you only just woke up.”

“Still,” he said, turning his head to kiss your cheek. “What are you making?”

“Mac ‘n’ cheese,” you explained. “I wasn’t in the mood to do any real cooking.”

“Sounds delicious,” he smiled. “S’it almost done?”

“Should be like five more minutes,” you glanced over at the timer on your phone. “Want to get the plates?”

“No, just want to hold you,” he said, pressing his face further into your neck. “I’m not awake yet.”

“Fine,” you said, setting the spoon down. “Then you gotta walk with me, because I need to set the table.”

“I can do that,” he said, his voice muffled.

You smiled, moving around the room to get everything you needed while Harry clung to you like a koala. The smell of food seemed to perk him up, because within a few minutes he was lifting his head and leaning less of his weight on you.

“Smells really good, love,” he said, finally pulling himself away from you.

“I know, I’m an amazing chef,” you grinned, lifting the pot off the stove and bringing it to the table. This time, you remembered to set down a potholer. You didn’t really want to ruin this table that probably cost more than your entire apartment.

“You are,” he agreed, pulling out your chair before sitting down next to you. He scooted his chair closer, moving the blanket again so you were both under it.

His mood seemed to change suddenly as he was piling the food onto your plates.

“I have to tell you something,” he said, looking more upset than you had seen in a while.

“What?” You asked, turning slightly to face him.

“I don’t really… there’s no nice way to say it,” he said, avoiding your eyes. “Someone took pictures of the moving van and us bringing stuff in, and there’s some pretty nasty articles.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. You weren’t quite sure how to respond to that. It’s not like you didn’t expect this, but you had hoped to have a few peaceful days with Harry before being attacked by the media. “Is it- how bad is it?”

“It’s... not good,” he sighed. “I wouldn’t recommend looking at it. That stuff is terrible, always has been. They always seem to know exactly how to tear people down; make you feel bad about yourself. You might wanna stay off social media, just for a few days until some of the crazies calm down.”

You nodded. “I’m sorry.”

“What?” he looked up quickly. “Why are you sorry? I’m the one that should be sorry, they’re writing terrible stuff about you, and it’s my fault.”

“It’s not your fault,” you were quick to shut him down. “And I’m sure it bothers you too. I know you don’t like when they get personal information.”

“No, I really don’t,” he agreed. “But I wish they left you out of it.”

“Well, it doesn’t matter now,” you said, leaning your head on his arm. “Because now I’m here, and we’re together, and I don’t have to leave anytime soon.”

-----

After dinner, Harry decided you should get some more of your things put away. He brought your bag to the bathroom, dumping everything out onto the vanity.

“Why do you have so many bottles?” He asked, picking up the closest one.

“Because,” you said, grabbing it out of his hands. “They all do different things. This one is moisturizer, this one makes sure my skin doesn’t get too oily-”

“So why don’t you just not use either of them? Seems like they cancel each other out anyways.”

You shot him a glare. “That’s not how it works. Anyways, this one's for dark spots. These glass ones are mineral oils. This blue one is for wrinkles- you know, gotta get ahead of those- and this one is rose water. It doesn’t really do anything, it basically just smells good. Then that’s my hair stuff- and I was right by the way, you do have way more than I do. And this is a face mask, and that one close to the sink is a hair mask, and this little tub is an exfoliator, and this cloth is a makeup remover, but it’s better for the environment than individual wipes. And then my makeup is here- so liquid foundation, setting powder, blush, concealer, mascara, eye shadow, eyeliner, and the brushes. I actually don’t have that much stuff,” you shrugged, looking at the bottles splayed everywhere.

“Right… not that much stuff,” he said, his eyes wide. “It’s a good thing I asked Gemma how she organizes all her stuff, because she told me to get one of these things.” He opened the cupboard under the sink, pulling out a spinning makeup organizer. “Hopefully all of your million bottles fit on this.”

“You got this for me?” you asked, smiling. “That’s so nice of you.”

“Well, I don’t think your stuff would have fit in the drawers,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

“Oh, shush,” you rolled your eyes. “Help me get all this organized, will you?”

-----

The next week was pretty smooth, minus that little hiccup with the press. You did as Harry suggested, and stayed off Twitter and Instagram. You didn’t think it would be too bad, but you had gotten a few texts from concerned family and friends that made you wonder how bad it really was.

Either way, you didn’t really want to look. You and Harry were essentially honeymooning, and you weren’t about to let a few nasty articles ruin it.

“We haven’t gone for groceries yet,” Harry reminded you, coming up behind you as you did your morning skincare routine.

“Yeah, I kind of forgot about that,” you said, closing the bottle of moisturizer. “We can go whenever, just let me get dressed.”

He nodded. “What all do we need?”

“I don’t think there’s too much, but we need some fruit. Most of yours is bad at this point.”

“Yeah, that happens.” He laughed. “I usually buy a whole bunch and then end up having to leave, so then I come home to a fridge full of rotten fruit.”

“Lovely,” you joked. “I also need some chips, all your snacks are healthy.”

“I have no idea what chips are, but we can buy some crisps, if that’s what you meant,” he smiled at you in the mirror.

“Shut up,” you rolled your eyes, hitting his arm playfully. “I’m not going to call them crisps just because I live here now. I’m still American.”

“Fine, but when we have kids, they will not be using your American words. I’m not letting you corrupt my children like that.”

“You’re so annoying.”

“Well then, it’s too bad you moved in with me, isn’t it?”

-----

“Ooh, we need these!” Harry said, grabbing a bag of brownie bites.

“Why do we need those?”

“Because they’re delicious,” he said, looking at you like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“If you say so,” you shrugged, pushing the cart forward after he threw the bag in. “Where is the pasta?”

“Aisle 17,” he answered immediately.

“Is it really?” You asked, a little surprised he had the aisle numbers memorized.

“I have no idea,” he laughed. “It’s just the first number that popped into my head. I think it’s that way? Or maybe over here…” he trailed off, like he was trying to remember where to go. “I actually have no idea.”

“Wow, you're so helpful.”

“I know,” he grinned. “I don’t know, just start wandering around and we’ll find it eventually.”

“What a plan,” you shook your head, but followed him anyway. It’s not like you were in any rush, and you were both having a good time.

“Oh look!” You said, turning into an aisle. “I found the chips.”

“The what?” Harry called from the next row over. “I thought you said something, but I must have heard you wrong.”

“No, I just said I found the chips,” you repeated. “You know, little cooked potato slices?”

“I’m sorry love, I have no idea what you’re talking about,” He said, joining you in the aisle. “Oh, silly me. You meant crisps!”

“Nope,” you grabbed a bag of Doritos. “I meant exactly what I said.” You placed the bag in the cart, turning back to Harry. You leaned up on your tiptoes, moving closer to his face. “Chips,” you whispered, before pressing a quick kiss to his cheek and then turning around again.

“You can’t seduce me into calling them the wrong name,” he scoffed.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you shrugged, pushing the cart away. “Did you find the pasta yet?”

“No, but I did find the ice cream,” he said, easily catching up to you with his long legs.

“Ooh, I think that’s where we need to go next.”

“I agree,” he grinned, steering the cart in the right direction. “I think we should probably just get all of them, ya know? That way we won’t miss out on anything good.”

“Harry, there’s like thirty different flavors here,” you laughed. “We are not getting that much ice cream, we don’t even have that much space in the freezer.”

“No, that’s just because I have a bunch of frozen food in there. It’s mostly vegetables. Not that important. I can just throw that all away,” he argued, already opening the freezer door to reach for some ice cream.

“We are not buying thirty cartons of ice cream,” you shook your head. “We can get, like, ten, at most. Even that-”

“You already said ten!” he said, pressing a finger against your lips. “You can’t go back on that now. So pick some flavors!”

-----

“Which one do we want to try first?” He asked, looking at the large selection you had bought.

“Um… I think the salted caramel core,” you decided, picking up the carton of ice cream.

“Oh! You know what we need with all of this?”

“Insulin?”

“No,” he rolled his eyes, grabbing one of the bags from earlier and pulling out the brownie bites. “I told you we needed these, they’ll go perfect with the ice cream.”

“Ooh,” you nodded. “That’s a good idea.”

“I know,” he said proudly. “I’m full of good ideas. Actually, I have another one. Let’s go watch The Office while we eat our delicious brownie bites.”

“Ok, but if you put on the UK version I might have to leave.”

“I would never,” he said in an offended tone. “I’m not a monster.”

-----

“I don’t want to go back to work,” he sighed. “I just wanna stay here with you.”

“I know,” you said, tracing patterns on his chest. “But I have to start working again too. I don’t think my boss is too happy about this whole arrangement, so I have to make everything twice as good so she’ll let me keep doing it this way.”

“Yeah,” he said, running his fingers through your hair. “I’m saying again, you could just quit.”

“I’m not quitting,” you shook your head. “I like my job. And I can do it all from the house, so it’s a really good deal.”

“I wish I could do that,” he sighed again.

“That wouldn’t work,” you smiled. “If we were both here all day, neither of us would get anything done.”

“You might be right,” he laughed. “You’re very distracting.”

“Oh, I’m distracting?”

“Very,” he grinned. You recognized the look in his eyes, and you knew if you didn’t get up soon you wouldn’t any time in the next hour

So before he could move too far and start kissing at your neck, you rolled off him.

“I have to get ready for work,” you said, getting out of bed.

“What do you mean get ready? You don’t have to go anywhere, we have all the time in the world,” he pouted, reaching out his arm for you.

“I don’t, but you do. Jeff has been texting you nonstop, and Sarah called the other day and told me she’s getting restless at home. So I’m taking the baby today, so all of you can get some work in.”

“You are? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Because, if you knew we were having the baby here, you would come up with some excuse to stay here.”

“Maybe,” he smiled, still making no moves to get up. “She’s just so cute.”

“Well, sometime we can offer to babysit so Sarah and Mitch can go out for the evening or something. But you have to go in today, so you should probably get dressed.”

He groaned, flopping his head back into the pillows.

-----

“Harry! They’re here!” You called, opening the door and inviting Sarah and Mitch in. “Hi guys, Harry’s being a drama queen today so I’m not sure when he’ll be down.”

“When isn’t he?” Sarah smiled, stepping into the room with the baby in her arms. Mitch was carrying the diaper bag, which he set down on the bench next to the door.

Sarah handed the baby over to you as Harry came down the stairs.

“Aw, can I hold her?” He asked, not even greeting his friends.

“No,” all three of you said at once.

“Why?” He whined before smiling at the baby in your arms.

“Because you won’t be able to put her down,” you said, laughing when the other two nodded. “See, they know I’m right.”

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But Mitch, you’re taking Sarah out tomorrow night and we’re babysitting.”

“I’m alright with that,” Sarah smiled. “Y/N, you should have everything you need in the diaper bag. There’s enough formula for a few bottles, but she won’t need to eat for an hour or so. Other than that she’ll probably sleep most of the time, she’s a pretty quiet baby. She takes after her dad.”

You nodded, bouncing her lightly. Harry was already in her face, smiling and cooing and offering his finger for her to grab. She seemed to like the attention, and was smiling right back at him.

“Harry, we have to go,” Sarah said with one hand on the doorknob.

He huffed. “Just when I start to make a connection with the child, I’m ripped away.”

You rolled your eyes. “We’ll have her tomorrow night. You can connect with her then.”

“It won’t be the same,” he said. “You know- why don’t we just take her with us? She can just come with us-” he was already moving toward you again, but Mitch grabbed his shoulder.

“No, Harry, we actually have to get some stuff done today.”

“Fine,” he groaned. “But you better send me pictures if she does anything cute,” he pointed at you.

“Everything she does is cute,” Mitch argued.

“You’re really not helping,” Sarah said, hitting his arm. “I thought I had one child, but turns out I have three.”

-----

The next few days were not very productive for Harry. He was having a hard time getting back in the swing of things, and it felt like everything he did was bad. He couldn’t write or play anything he liked. He just felt stuck.

They went over some old stuff, just so he didn’t feel like they totally wasted their time. Still, he couldn’t help but feel incredibly frustrated. He didn’t usually have issues with writers’ block, and he expected to be even better now that you were with him all the time. He had always been more productive when he got to see you, so he thought living with you would give him an extra boost. Apparently not.

Then, to make everything worse, more pictures and articles came out. Pictures from the day you had gone grocery shopping had been captured by some fan, but for some reason hadn’t come out until today.

But they were suddenly everywhere. There were even more articles than before, and this time it was worse because there were full pictures of your face. Before, there had only been one blurry shot of your back, and that alone got enough criticism. Now it was like the floodgates had opened. Every aspect of your appearance was being ripped apart, along with Harry’s “decision making”.

He saw the first article when they were taking a break for lunch one day. They had ordered some pizzas, and everyone was spread out on the couches across the room.

Harry unlocked his phone, ready to call you and ask about your day, but was instead met with another text from Jeff. Like the one before, he had advised Harry to keep you off social media for the next few days and apologized that it got this out of hand.

Sighing, he decided to see what they were saying this time.

“Harry Styles goes on a shopping spree- But who’s that with him?”

“Harry’s “new girlfriend” shops with him?”

"DID SHE MOVE IN?”“

“MYSTERY GIRL and HARRY STYLES search for the necessities!”

He clicked on one of the articles.

“Harry Styles and his mystery lady were seen shopping last week. We can’t help but think things might be getting more serious!

The former One Direction star was spotted moving boxes into his house a few weeks ago. What we thought may have just been a favor for a friend might be something much more juicy!

Maybe she’s not just another notch in the bed stand- maybe this one will stick around!

But really, if she wants to stick around- maybe she should watch what she eats. The Sign of the Times singer was searching for healthy snacks, while his newest girlfriend filled the cart with ice cream and chips. Seems like a recipe for disaster between the two!

Again, she’s seen wearing a very simple outfit. And no (or at least, very little!) makeup. Come on girl, you couldn’t have at least used a little concealer for those eye bags?

It seems like she’s just not trying very hard! We have to wonder- how long can this last?”

“Fuck’s sake,” Harry groaned, grabbing the pillow next to him and chucking it across the room.

“Harry, what’s going on?” Sarah asked. Everyone had noticed how on edge he had been lately, but no one was quite sure how to address his moodiness.

“Another article just came out,” he sighed. “It’s worse than the last one. I’m so sick of this.”

“Does Y/N know?”

Harry shrugged. He didn’t feel like talking about it anymore, but he knew they wouldn’t just leave it without knowing if you were ok.

“You should probably call her, so she doesn’t hear it from someone else,” Sarah advised. “I would want to find out from someone I loved.”

“I can’t- I really don’t want to talk to her right now.”

“Did something happen with you two?” Mitch asked, confused. The two of you had been inseparable lately, so this was strange.

Harry shook his head.

“I just- can we just not talk about it?”

He could tell they didn’t want to drop it, but one of the assistants came in with the pizza, and Harry was clearly done talking.

His mood only got worse for the rest of the day. He still couldn’t make anything new, and he was even having trouble with things he already knew. He struggled to hit the higher notes, and his throat was getting sore from trying to force it. By the time people were starting to head home, he was ready to throw a lot more than a pillow.

Harry dropped his keys when he was trying to unlock the door, and then his coat fell off the hook when he tried to hang it up. By the time he got to the kitchen, his jaw was clenched and he was fuming.

“Hi,” you said tentatively, noticing how angry he looked.

“Hi,” he said shortly, opening the fridge. “Is there anything to eat?”

“I didn’t make anything,” you said, still typing on your computer.

“You didn’t-” He shut the fridge aggressively, the bottles and containers in the door clinking against each other. “You couldn’t make supper for one night?”

“Excuse me?” You looked up, crossing your arms defensively. “I’ve been working.”

“So have I!”

“And I don’t expect you to make supper after you’ve been working all day!”

“It’s different, you’re home all day!”

“That doesn’t mean I’m not busy, Harry. You know that.”

“Well what am I supposed to do?”

“I don’t know, you could stop yelling at me for starters! I didn’t do anything wrong and you're acting like you hate me.”

His face softened immediately, and he stepped forward. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m so sorry. I don’t hate you, I could never. I just-” He scrubbed his face with his hands. “I’m having a terrible time with work. I can’t do anything right, nothing is working, and all these articles-”

“The articles came out weeks ago, Harry. It’s not that big of a deal anymore.”

“No,” he shook his head. “There’s more. A lot more, and they’re worse than before.”

“Oh,” you said quietly. “I didn’t know that.”

“I know,” he replied. “I should have told you earlier, I just- I don’t know. I don’t want you to have to deal with this.”

“Well, keeping it a secret from me and then yelling at me isn’t going to help anything,” you said, arms still crossed. “I know you’ve been having a hard time lately, Sarah told me. You can talk to me, you know. You don’t have to just keep everything in.”

“I didn’t want to put this on you,” he admitted, looking down.

“I want to know,” you told him. “I want to know when things are upsetting you or you’re having a hard time at work. You can tell me those things.”

He nodded. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly. “I shouldn't have raised my voice. Please forgive me?”

“Of course I forgive you,” you said, moving around the table and closer to him. He looked up, opening his arms and smiling as you stepped into them.

“It will get better soon,” he promised. “It won't be this hard for long."

-----

Despite his hopeful words, your situation didn’t get any easier. More articles came out, most of them attacking Harry for his past relationships and wondering how long this one would last. His writers’ block showed no signs of easing up, and he was getting more frustrated with every day that passed.

On top of all this, you had started missing deadlines for work. The difference in time zones made it more difficult than you had anticipated, and your boss was not happy. You’d already had to sit through three Zoom meetings this week, with her lecturing you on “the importance of timeliness and responsibility.”

You were not in the right state of mind to deal with Harry’s moodiness, and the atmosphere between you was painfully tense.

That is, until it all boiled over one day.

Harry came home angry, again. He slammed the door shut and basically stomped to the kitchen. Your day had already been stressful enough, and you weren’t about to let him take out his frustration on you.

“Don’t even start with me today, Harry,” you shook your head.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked, immediately getting defensive.

“I know you probably had a terrible day, but so did I. I’m sick of us fighting.”

“You think I want to fight? I’m so sorry for being stressed,” His voice was heavy with sarcasm.

“And I’m not? It’s not like you’re the only one in the world having a hard time, Harry!”

“What do you have to be stressed about? I’m the one who can’t get any work done, and I’m the one getting ripped apart by the media,” he huffed.

“Excuse me? Have you been on ANY social media lately? Are you the one getting called ugly for not wearing enough makeup? Or accused of being “Harry's newest slut”? Because that’s that they’re saying about me!”

“And how do you think that looks for my reputation?”

“Oh, so now it’s my fault that people are attacking you?”

“No,” he sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “I don’t want to fight about this. I’m just really stressed right now, and-”

“Again, Harry, so am I! I changed my entire world to come and be with you, and it’s like you don’t even care, or appreciate all the sacrifices I made!”

“What sacrifices? You don’t-”

“You did not just say that,” you breathed. “Are you kidding me? I gave up everything! I left all my family and friends. I can’t go out in public without people taking pictures of me, and posting them, and saying terrible things about me. I’m trying to figure out my new work situation, and my boss is pissed at me all the time. I’m probably going to get fired if I don’t figure something out. I-”

“You act like you’re the only one with work troubles!” he exclaimed. “My entire career is on the line if I don’t start writing again soon. And all this shit in the press- it’s not exactly motivating.”

“It’s affecting my job too. Do you think my company wants to be involved with all the drama about us? It doesn’t look good for them. All the more reason for them to fire me.”

“But it’s worse for me!” he raised his voice to match yours.

“Why is it worse for you, Harry?”

“Because-” He stopped himself, seemingly knowing he had gone too far.

“No, say it. Say why it matters more to you. Because everything about you is more important, isn’t it?”

“That’s not what I meant-”

“But it’s exactly what you meant! You care more about your career than you do about me.”

“That’s not true,” he said, an intense look in his eyes. “You know that’s not true.”

“Really? That’s not how you’ve been acting lately.”

“It’s not like that-'' he exhaled a frustrated sigh. “I’m just saying, all this bad press is really getting to me. I’m going to lose support, and it’s going to be hard for me to get it back.”

“Oh please, you’re Harry Styles,” you spat. “You’re the golden boy of the music industry. You’ll be fine. Other people, like me, are actually in trouble here. I’m actually at risk of losing something!”

“You can just find another job!” He threw his hands up. “I’m more in the public eye, it affects me more. That’s all there is to it.”

“I can’t believe you!” you were on the verge of tears now, simply from how frustrated and angry you were. “It affects you more? You’ve been dealing with this for years. How do you think it feels for me? I’m new to all of this, and you’re acting like I should know how to handle everything.”

“You knew it was going to be like this when you first started dating me!” he argued. “I told you, and you said you didn’t care.”

“Yeah, but I didn’t think it would be this miserable!” You said, the first tear rolling down your face.

“Well if you’re so miserable, maybe you shouldn’t have agreed to move in with me.”

This stopped you in your tracks. Everything the two of you had said so far was angry, and in the heat of the moment. But this felt different. It felt like he had crafted this sentence specifically to hurt you, not to voice his feelings about the situation.

“Fine,” you stood up, grabbing your laptop and charger. You walked right past him, out of the kitchen and up the stairs.

“Where are you going?” He called.

You didn’t answer. You went into your closet, pulling out the backpack you used to use for traveling back and forth between your house and Harry’s. You began shoving clothes into it, but made sure not to include any of his shirts or hoodies.

“What are you doing?” Harry came into the room, speaking quietly.

“Packing,” you said shortly.

“Don’t do that,” he frowned. “You can’t just leave.”

“Yes I can,” you shot back, still not looking up at him. You zipped up the bag, brushing past him as you went back downstairs.

“Where-” he followed you quickly. “Where are you going?”

At this point, you realized you didn’t have anywhere to go. You didn’t have any close friends; most of your friends were also Harry’s. And you needed to be with people who didn’t remind you of him right now.

“I’m going home,” you said, finally turning to look at him.

“What?” His face fell.

“I’m leaving. I’m going back home. I can’t be here right now.”

“No- you can’t leave!” he said, his face paling. “You can go stay with Sarah and Mitch, or with Jeff and Glenne- or I’ll get you a hotel room or something, but you can’t-”

“Yes I can, Harry,” you cut him off, repeating your sentence from earlier. “I need my family. I need to see my mom. I- I have to go.” You reached for the door handle, but he stopped you, placing his large hand against the door.

“You can call them,” he said, beginning to look desperate. “Or- or we can even fly them out here. But please don’t do this.”

“You’re the one who told me to leave if I was so miserable here,” you said, trying to stop your chin from wobbling. “So that’s exactly what I’m doing.”

“I didn’t mean that! I’m so sorry, I should have never said- I don’t want you to leave. That got way out of hand, I went too far, I’m so sorry.”

“It did. And I can’t be here right now. So let me-” you tried the door again, but he kept it firmly shut.

“Please don't do this,” he whispered. “Please just… stay here tonight. I’ll sleep in the guest room, I won’t bother you if that’s what you need. Or if you really can’t be here, go stay with-”

“No,” you said decisively. “I need to go home. You’re making me feel worse by forcing me to stay here, can’t you see that?”

He dropped his hand away from the door, pressing his lips together. He gave a short nod. “If you have to-” his voice broke, and he quickly cleared his throat before speaking again. “If you really have to leave, then I’ll drive you to the airport. It’s not safe to be out alone this late.”

You shook your head. “I can get a cab, I’m not going to make you-”

“Either I drive you, or you’re not going,” he said firmly. “I need you to be safe.”

You sighed, but nodded, knowing he wouldn’t give in. He was just as stubborn as you were.

-----

You were both silent for the entire drive. Harry didn’t even try to argue with you, which you were grateful for. He seemed to understand that this was what you needed, and he couldn't change your mind.

-----

“Please don’t do this,” he said one final time, watching you walk toward the gate. His heart broke a little more with each step you took.

Even though you wanted to, you didn’t look back. You knew that one look at his sad face would be enough to break you, and you couldn’t let that happen. You needed to go home. You needed your family.

Harry stood at the large window, watching with crossed arms as the plane took off. Once you were officially gone, the first tear slipped down his face.

He made his way out of the busy airport in a daze. He barely registered that he had made it back to his car until he was sitting in the driver’s seat. He reached for the keys, but his hands were shaking so much he couldn’t manage to start the vehicle. Instead, he dropped his head to rest against the steering wheel, and he cried. He couldn’t remember the last time he cried this hard. He felt like he couldn’t breathe; there was a huge weight on his chest.

Had he just lost the love of his life?

-----

He didn’t know how long he sat there, but eventually he realized he needed to get home. He needed to figure out what to do.

As soon as he pulled in the driveway, he pulled out his phone and called Mitch.

“Hello?” Came his friend’s tired voice. It was the middle of the night, after all.

“I need you to come over right now,” Harry rushed. “I fucked up, I fucked up so bad and I don’t know- what am i supposed to do? I can’t do this- I need her!”

“Wait, slow down,” Mitch instructed. “What happened?”

“I- just come over right now,” Harry said, hanging up the phone.

-----

When Mitch arrived, he immediately knew something was very wrong. He had never seen Harry look so torn up. His eyes were red, and he was pacing back and forth while running his hands through his hair.

“What happened?” He asked again. “Where’s Y/N?”

“She’s gone,” Harry said. “She fucking left. She went back home.”

“Is she ok? Did something happen with her family?”

“No, Mitch,” Harry said, scrubbing his hands over his face. “She left because of me. We had a fight- a really bad one. I said some really shitty things, and it got way out of hand, and now she’s gone. I don’t- what am I supposed to do?”

“What did you say? Was it about the articles that came out?”

“Somewhat,” Harry nodded. “She said it was starting to affect her job, and I said it was affecting mine too, and she said she was miserable, and I… told her if she was so miserable she shouldn’t have agreed to move in with me in the first place,” he looked down in shame. He felt terrible as soon as the words left his mouth the first time, but going over the fight with someone else felt ten times worse.

Mitch took a deep breath. “Yeah, that’s... pretty bad.”

“Yeah, no shit it’s pretty bad!” Harry snapped. “Sorry, I’m sorry,” he groaned, falling back on the couch. “I just- what do I do?” He leaned his elbows on his knees, cradling his head in his hands.

“I don’t know,” Mitch admitted. “Did she say when she’s coming back?”

“No,” Harry said miserably. “She just said she needed to go home. I tried to get her to stay, I really did. I said I could get her a hotel room, or ask if she could stay with Jeff or something, but she said she needed her family. The worst thing is… she said she needs to go home. I thought she saw this as her home now. I thought she wanted to be here. I thought she was happy here,” his voice broke, and he dropped his head again. “I don’t… I don't think she loves me anymore.”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Mitch shook his head. “Of course she loves you. Do you know how many fights Sarah and I have had? You just have to give her time.”

“Yeah, but did Sarah ever leave the country after you fought?”

“...No,” Mitch sighed. “No, it never got that bad.”

“Exactly,” Harry said, another tear falling down his face.

“She will come back, Harry. She loves you way too much to stay away for good.”

“Not this time,” Harry shook his head. “I think it’s different this time. I honestly don’t know if she’s coming back. I don’t know how to fix this.”

“Well, you have to apologize,” Mitch said. “As soon as her plane lands, call her. Tell her what you told me. Tell her how sorry you are and that it got out of hand and you didn’t mean anything you said.” He paused before speaking again. “You didn’t mean it, did you?”

“Of course I didn’t,” Harry snapped again. “I was just… I’ve been in such a terrible mood, and I took it out on her.” He shook his head, whispering, “I’m so stupid.”

“I’m sure it will work out if you just-” Mitch was interrupted by his phone ringing. “Yeah, he’s alright,” he said into the phone. “I’ll explain when I get home." He paused before sighing. "Again? Ok, I’ll be there in a few,” he said before hanging up. “I’m really sorry, I have to go. The baby’s sick and apparently threw up all over her crib. I have to go help Sarah clean up. Just… tell Y/N the truth, okay? Make sure she knows how much you love her.”

Harry nodded, still looking awful as he raised his head. “Thank you.”

“Of course. Let me know if you need anything else, okay?”

-----

Harry started calling you as soon as Mitch left. He knew you were still on the plane, but he wanted you to hear his apologies as soon as you landed.

“Hi love… I’m so sorry. I don’t even know how to explain how terrible I feel. I didn’t mean anything I said. I was completely out of line, and I shouldn’t have let it go that far. I love you so much and I never wanted to hurt you. Please call me when you get this.”

Then he sent a quick text.

Harry: Let me know when you get to your parents’ house so I know you’re safe. Love you.

After that, he knew there wasn’t much else he could do. He wandered back up to his bedroom, looking at all the pictures the two of you had hung on the walls together. He thought back to the day you had moved in, and how happy you had both been. He remembered when he tried to put a nail in the wall, but swung the hammer at the wrong angle and put a hole in the wall instead. He remembered how shocked you had looked, covering your mouth for a second before you both burst out into laughter.

He remembered sitting on the living room floor and eating Chinese food while you played scrabble. Sure, you had ended up dropping lo mein all over the board, but it was worth it.

There were still traces of you all over the house. Your coffee cup still sat in the sink from this morning. Two of the cabinets were still open, because you always forgot to close them. There was a purple scrunchie on your bedside table, and a blue one on the bathroom vanity, and a white one hooked over one of the kitchen cabinet knobs, because “I never know when I’ll need to put my hair up!”

He couldn’t look anywhere in the house without thinking of you. He didn’t want to be in this big empty space all alone. The only way he could think of to make all the painful memories stop was to go to sleep. So, he did just that. He pulled your pillow against his chest, cuddling it like it was you in his arms. There was the faint smell of your conditioner stuck to the fabric, and he buried his face in it to just breathe you in.

The next two days were the worst Harry had ever been through. He didn’t know what to do with himself. You weren’t answering any of his calls, and your voicemail inbox was full. He kept texting, but you weren’t even reading any of them. He paced all day, trying to occupy himself. If he didn’t think of something to keep him busy, he would just keep texting, and he was sure you were pretty annoyed at this point.

But he couldn’t help himself, so he quickly unlocked his phone and started typing.

Harry: I’m so sorry, I can’t even put it into words. Please just let me know when you’re coming home?

He scrolled up through his previous messages, sighing when he realized how pathetic they sounded.

Harry: Please stop ignoring me, I need to talk to you.

Harry: I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you so much, please come home.

Harry: I sound like a broken record, I know, but I just need you to know I feel awful for everything I said.

Harry: I don’t even care how pathetic I sound with all of this, I can’t lose you.

He decided he couldn’t wait anymore. He didn’t even care if you weren’t ready to come back to London yet, but he needed to see you. He stood up from the couch and marched to the front door. He was going to get the next flight out to you.

He whipped the door open, ready to run to his car- and stopped abruptly in his tracks when he was met with your apprehensive face, one hand raised as if you were about to knock.

His eyes went wide, and he froze. He didn’t say anything, and you could hear him breathing heavily. His gaze flickered all around your face, almost as if he couldn’t believe you were really here in front of him.

“Hi,” you said hesitantly, lowering your hand. You opened your mouth to speak again, but he pulled you inside and against him before you could say anything. He held you tightly, arms wrapped against you as if you were going to disappear right before his eyes.

You reached up, putting your arms around his neck as he rocked you gently. His face was buried in your neck, and you could feel his chest shaking.

You just stood there with him, letting him hold you until you could feel his breathing evening out again. After what seemed like hours, he pulled away to look at you. He put his hands on the sides of your face, his eyes flicking between yours desperately as if he still didn’t believe this was real.

“Are you- are you home? Are you staying?” He whispered. His eyes were bloodshot and he looked like he hadn’t slept since you left. The sight was enough to make guilt stab through your chest.

“I’m staying,” you nodded. “I’m not going anywhere.”

He exhaled shakily, pulling you against his chest again. Your head was turned so you could hear his heartbeat, and it still seemed dangerously fast.

“I’m so sorry,” you murmured. “I should never have left.”

“It's ok,” he shook his head. “You’re here now.”

“It’s not ok,” you lifted your head to look at him. “I was angry. But I never should have let you think I was leaving you. That was unfair of me. I said awful things to you too, and I didn’t even say I love you before I left.” Your eyes were watering again, but you blinked back the tears.

“I didn’t… I didn't know if you were going to come back,” he admitted, voice thick with emotion. “I thought I lost you for good.”

You shook your head. “Of course not. I’m here, I promise, and I'm never going to do that again.”

“Good,” he laughed shakily, bringing up a hand to run through his hair. “I was terrified.”

“I know,” you said sadly. “And I feel like such an ass, coming back and just letting you welcome me with open arms. You should probably be really angry with me-”

“I’m not angry,” he quickly shut you down. “I was scared. I was so, so scared. I was about to get on a plane and fly out to you. And of course I’m welcoming you with open arms, I love you. You can always come back to me.”

You nodded, this time letting a tear slip down your face. “I love you too.”

He smiled, wiping the tear with his thumb. “What made you decide to come home?”

“I got there and I expected to feel better. I drove all around town, going past all the spots I used to love. It made me… nostalgic, I guess, but it didn’t comfort me like I expected it to. I went to my parent’s house, and they were great, but all I could think about was the times you’ve visited there with me. I went up to my room, and all I could think about was the time we stayed in there and my bed was way too small so I was basically sleeping on top of you. And how we couldn’t get to sleep because we kept laughing, because your hair was tickling me or I would hit you with my knee. Everything I did made me think of you. And I realized- that town isn’t my home, and neither is that house. This is my home. You are my home.”

His eyes were shining just like yours, and you both reached up to wipe the other’s tears away.

“You’re my home too. And if you want to move closer to your family, we can do that. I don’t care where we live. We can go anywhere in the world, as long as I’m with you.”

[backdraft-bimbo]

Bucky, trauma, and consent (TFATWS 1x03)

I’m gonna talk about the role Bucky plays in episode three. And boy is it a lot to unpack.

This whole episode Bucky has to deal with the knowledge that there are other Super Soldiers out there. Can y’all imagine that? Finding out that the serum you were forcefully given is now in the hands of people who are willingly taking it? That serum brought us Steve—a righteous soldier. But it also brought us the Winter Soldier—a ruthless assassin.

There are two sides here, and the difference between them is that Bucky had no choice. His consent was ripped away from him completely. Put yourself in his shoes—consider how it’d feel to see people ignorantly take that same serum, unaware of how they could potentially be weaponized just like Bucky. I don’t know about y’all, but I’d be pretty torn up about it.

In addition to revisiting the awfulness of that trauma, Bucky has to buddy it up with one of his past abusers. And yeah, I’m talking about Zemo. He said it was “nothing personal,” but that doesn’t mean jack shit to me. The man seriously started listing off the Winter Soldier code words the minute Bucky walked into his cell. Think about somebody taking away your autonomy while you’re imprisoned, forcing you to try to kill your friends, and saying it’s no biggie after all is said and done.

Then, Zemo literally forces Bucky into a situation where he must revert back into the Winter Soldier. After the persistent nightmares, the long list of amends, Bucky has to fight like an assassin again. All while struggling with his identity, trying to reestablish himself to the world: He’s James “Bucky” Barnes, not a killer. He wants to believe it, even though it’s unbearably hard for him.

After reliving that trauma, Bucky is understandably shaken up. Go watch the episode and just look at his face. He’s trying so hard to hold back his emotions, because if he doesn’t, the mission is blown. But the pain ain’t over yet. This next scene had me out of my chair, yelling at my computer.

Zemo offers Bucky up to Selby, telling her Bucky will “do anything [she] want[s].” The thing that pisses me off the most about this is how unnecessary it was. Zemo didn’t have to touch him, or say those things so suggestively. He was having fun doing it, even when Bucky was visibly uncomfortable. Zemo knows his past—he knows what HYDRA put him through. But he still sadistically plays with Bucky’s trauma, dangling him in front of other powerful people like a trophy prize.

That’s the most heartbreaking aspect of Bucky’s story. He’s had virtually no control over his life, he’s been ripped of his consent, his sense of self, and turned into a murderer. He’s capable of doing a lot of damage, and he’s powerful—but with that comes people constantly trying to get their turn with him. Like he’s just a mindless weapon at their convenience. He’s seen as an asset rather than a human being to so many people—HYDRA, Alexander Pierce, Zemo....and even John Walker: Captain America, supposedly the most respected man in the USA.

No wonder Bucky has trust issues. Even the “good guys” are trying to objectify and weaponize him. If Bucky ever accused Walker of forcing him to fight against his will, nobody would take his side on it. He’s got a checkered past, and that would never play to his advantage in a court of law.

Bucky’s narrative is very reminiscent of how victims are often afraid to speak up against respected authority figures because they always have the upper hand. I think that’s why a lot of people love his character. His situation, while fictional and dramatized, is relatable and relevant. It deals with consent. It deals with trauma, PTSD, and guilt. Bucky is a victim of abuse, but he’s also a survivor. He’s making steps to improve his mental health.

And damn, that’s just why this episode really hit me hard. When you consider all that Bucky’s been through up to this point, the situations Zemo forced him into gain so much more weight.

[orphicrose]

The Only One

Rick x Reader Fanfiction

Summary : life is strange in the rick and morty universe, as we all know. But things get just that little bit weirder when Rick meets you. Something seems oddly familiar with you, but for once In his life he has no idea why. So he searches from reality to reality to try and see if he had met another version of you, only to realise there where none. You where the only one. That’s when it finally hit him…

This is inspired by a song from Rick and morty that I think is beautiful https://youtu.be/epiOcz3HXNo

I accidentally got carried away and wrote too much, so I will probably just do a part 2 so it’s not to much to read if anyone is interested <3

_________________꧁♥︎꧂_________________

Humans are such fragile creatures, always have been and always will be. You knew that, but you refused to surrender down to it. Not wanting to be included In whatever earth had to offer, so you ran away. And not like how a silly fourteen years old runs away from home, Hah… no.

You left the fucking planet, not leaving behind a single trail or speck of dust for someone to follow you with. Your intelligence and ambition was all you needed to carry yourself through life. Travelling the infinite void of space, soon making a name for yourself. For good and for bad. An ordinary person couldnt even dream nor comprehend the things you’ve experienced or seen. And that’s just how you liked it. Being different. It was truly a gift to be intelligent.

And then there was rick, high IQ and normally not happy about it. Seeing his intelligence as a curse. Rick hadn’t seen it all, it was impossible, but he thought he had seen enough to make a valid opinion on life.

It’s pointless.

Such a bitter man with a bitter view on everything, including himself. You see, when you have an overwhelming amount of knowledge weighing down on your mind, you can go two ways. The first being ricks way, not caring about anything since he has seen how big the universe is and doesn’t see a point.

Then there’s your way, feeling blessed to be able to see things that no one else can, and finding a new reason to live every single day.

You two where polar opposites, but also the same. You where both alone in a universe you felt didn’t need you anymore.

The day both of your worlds collided should have been written down in the history books. It was the day both of your beliefs where almost questioned. Wondering whether fate really does exist.

————————————————

Out of the many things you have done, you’ve never visited the same place twice. Making everyday an adventure, as much of a cliche as that sounds it’s true. Not only that, but you seem to have people after you almost everywhere. For your intelligence, or for revenge. But there is one particular spot you cannot get enough of. Finding yourself there when you lose yourself.

It’s an isolated planet in the middle of the andromeda galaxy. It’s a newly ‘emerging moon’ as you like to call it. In fact, you pretty much founded this planet, since its a recent creation. This also means there is no intelligent life yet evolved, so it is safe for you to do what you please.

You go there often, to watch the two suns set over its small horizon and the thousands of stars come into view. Giving you time to reflect on your life. To appreciate it, but not to regret anything. The stars are far to beautiful to bring your mind to anything negative. The planet itself seems to project the meaning of peace and tranquillity even without life. Maybe that’s why it’s so comforting.

Your thoughts where leaving your mind, as you held your eyes closed. Feeling the breeze brush through your hair gently. That beautiful, genuine smile found its way to your face without you noticing. You where to lost in the feeling of relaxation.

But that soon came to an end. That euphoric state was snapped out of you when you noticed a bright light coming towards you. Getting bigger and bigger in just seconds. Until it became more clear, it was a spacecraft of some sort. A poorly built one to say the least. You sat and watched, mesmerised, as the flames from the object slowly engulfed it. Burning in the atmosphere. Finally hitting the ground, you shook your head and sighed. Being brought back into reality.

The flames took a second to fade after the ship had crashed. And it was clearer to see, it was the stereotypical UFO. The type you’d see in cheesy ski-fi films. But it had encryptions written in English. Which was very unusual, especially for it to be in this part of the galaxy.

What was even stranger was that it didn’t have even the slightest burn mark to it’s metal. Your vision of it became clearer and clearer the closer you got, slowly creeping past the incredibly green trees towards it. But just before you got too close, a figure fell out of the vehicle. Swearing like a drunken sailor.

This is what really messed with you, it was a human. You gasped quietly, not being able to remember the last time you saw one. A mix of feelings rushed over you; confusion, fear, excitement? You couldn’t help but stare, his unique blue hair bounced as he picked himself up, not even bothering to dust off the dirt on his lab coat.

“Fuck! You fucking piece of shit spacecraft. You’ve really done it this time Rick you fucking…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as he kicked the lump of metal. Screaming at the top of his voice.

“Fuck!”

You caught a small glimpse of his face, and recognised him. But you weren’t sure where from. You had met millions of people over the years so he could really be anyone. But there was something so compelling about his character. Something that felt like you where being pushed towards him. Or pulled, by a red string perhaps. Something that was just telling you to interact with him.

You stayed hidden behind a rather tall tree, still collecting your thoughts and questioning whether you should help him. Rick had slumped himself against the ship, putting his hands to his face and grunting. Pausing his breakdown for a second to take a sip from his flask, then proceeding to carry on.

He stayed like this for a good few minutes, before you had decided to approach him. Your curiosity and questions where burning at the edge of your mind. You just had to investigate. Keeping a hand on your weapon tucked neatly in a pocket behind your back. You slowly walked towards him, not even being able to speak before he noticed you.

A gun had been pulled to you, aiming directly between your eyes

“What do you want? I’m not in the mood so just tell me in advance if I should shoot you or not..” his eyebrows furrowed, looking at the hand tucked behind your back.

You rolled your eyes, putting your hands up in surrender. Just how you remembered humans to be. Aggressive and impulsive.

“Calm down, I saw your ship crash. Thought you where in need of some assistance. And put that gun down, god…” to your surprise, he did. With a loud grunt he put his gun back into his pocket and turned away. Usually, he probably would’ve shot on site. And who’s to say he still won’t, but right in this moment he is too preoccupied to care.

“God doesn’t fucking exist…” he mumbled “and I definitely don’t need any assistance!”

You raised an eyebrow at him, watching him as he attempted to fix his broken ship. Opening the lid to the engine and being greeted by a storm of smoke. Now Seconds away from another breakdown.

“Are you… okay?” You hesitantly asked, daring to inch closer to him. Probably was the stupidest thing you’ve ever done. He threw the wrench down at the engine as he exploded.

“No, I’m not fucking okay. I lost my grandson, the entire galactic government is after me, I broke my portal gun and I just crashed my ship into a planet with no helpful resources to fix it.!” His speech sped up, and he went dead silent when he stopped talking. Clearly regretting telling you anything. He is usually good at keeping his mind together and keeping his problems to himself. But he had so much adrenaline pumping through his blood, he could barely concentrate.

“I’m, i’m sorry for your loss” is all you managed to get out

“What? Oh no, my grandsons not dead. I just left him somewhere and forgot exactly where…” he spoke slightly softer, still grunting as he tried to analyse his engine.

There was a small silence while you processed everything he had just said. Moving closer to get a look at his engine, you shook your head.

“You’ve burnt it out…”

“Yeah, no shit smart ass” he bit at you

You rolled your eyes and snatched the spanner from the place he had dropped it. Not using it to fix his engine, but you pulled out a small metal box from your pocket instead. Fixing a few pieces together. Rick stood there and watched with a puzzled look on his face. Moving his eyes from the gadget, then up to get a look at you.

His eyebrows softened as he took in your features, the creases in his forehead disappeared. A rush of a strange feeling replaced the adrenaline, not being able to pinpoint what it was but he didn’t like it. He could only describe it as his heart softening, and getting lost in a place that was familiar to him. Thats what he felt when he looked at your eyes, reflecting off of his.

“Hav-have we met before?” He said in a much calmer tone

You placed the gadget on the engine and pressed a small red button on the top, looking up at him.

“I don’t think so?” The box moved around the engine, like a shield. Fixing it effortlessly, Ricks eyes darted from you, to the engine, then back to you. Now with amazement written all over his face.

Deja vu was the only state good enough to describe what he was experiencing. You broke the silence by holding a hand out to introduce yourself.

“I’m y/n”

It took a quick second for him to respond, still trying to process your face and remember how he knows you.

“I’m… Rick” he finally shook your hand.

“Rick Sanchez..”

That name was oddly familiar to you. Like you’d heard it in a dream. Or it was a loved ones name in a past life. You felt like you had heard it before, in a very distant memory. But no recollection of the connection.

“That seems…familiar” you tilted your head, squinting your eyes at the old man who gave you the same look.

“Well, I wouldn’t be surprised if you knew me. I am the smartest man In the universe”

[starshipsofstarlord]

Could I request a Jaskier x female reader where the reader is a princess who during daylight, is condemned to be a bear, after being cursed by an evil sorcerer At night she become a human again. Which the curse can only be broken by a man (who would be Jaskier) who pledges his heart solely to the reader (something like true love’s kiss). Please and thank you!!!

Bruin

jaskier x reader

masterlist

Warnings; mentions of witcher killing, mentions of death and angst, curses, nudity, some fluff, implied smut

“G-Geralt.” Jaskier’s voice shivered, as he saw a great mountain of brunette fur, wading through the long grass, heavy breathing exhibiting from its wet snout. “There’s a bear!”

“If you’re that scared, try to speak quieter.” The Witcher’s speech remained monotone, as he continued walking, leaving the bard to catch up with his hardy footsteps. “We need to leave before nightfall, that is when the true monster is unleashed from the bruin vessel.”

“You kill monsters, we’ll be fine.” The bard waved off, though he was terrified, and Geralt was all but convinced with his dismissal. “We will, won’t we Geralt?”

“It’s bad luck to remain out here at night, it’s an old wives tale, however, no one survives the night out here. Not after the disappearance of the princess of Arafell.” Jaskier remembered that tale, he had even seen the princess at a banquet once when they were both young in age.

Neither of them had the opportunity to converse with one another that evening, it was the night she had ran away. and he certainly had regretted never asking her dance. Before that though, they had often strode through the gardens hand in hand, conversing on the beauty of the petals that veiled around the stems, and she, unlike most people, listened to his descriptive forms of poetry. Back then, he had been shy, and not to mention, she was of sought after royal blood. That evening was the last that anyone from the kingdom had ever been seen, after the slumber of eternity wept over their souls. One thing he severely remembered though, was that she loved dandelions.

The princess had ran away, leaving the king and queen in search of someone that could find her, and thus they hired a private sorcerer to complete their wishes. But instead of seeking out the lost girl, the old man took the gold and the lives of old, wallowing the land in distress that clambered into a delving of madness.

A shout bellowed from the bear, and Jaskier found him to “How long will it be til we reach the borders?”

“The bad luck will loom over us Jaskier, we will not make it out of here in the span of the next countless hours. There will be a moon in the sky, but perhaps we’ll be able to seek out cover in the old guard’s tower.”

“Where are we Geralt?” The brown haired poet feared to be met with the answer “What makes you think that we’ll survive the night?!”

“This is what remains of Arafell.” Stated the white haired hunter, as he continued to plod through the thick foliage beneath his dark boots. He stepped on the dull green life form, not encouraged to pursue any further into the depths as he heard the destination that they were travelling through.

“Arafell, great.” Huffed the irritating bard, clutching his lute as he spoke the haunting name. “There’s no need to be afraid, when you’re in the land of torn bodies, because the witcher is by your side. He’ll slash and dice, protect the mice, from the darkness that falls from above. The people are dead, I am filled with dread, in the land of Ar-afellll.”

“Stop singing.” Whenever there was any fault present in their adventures together, Jaskier had a tendency, wallowing similar like a pie without filling to sing. It shrouded Geralt with epitomised frustration, his betrothed follower sure knew how to pull his strings, it was as though he were a moral lute, a practice run of socialisation for the noble’s son.

“Sorry.” Apologised the traveller, with a shrug encompassed by a spark of coldness affecting his posture. There was a breeze, filled with the pinching of icicles in the air, and it clawed through his clothes, clashing with the meat blanketed warmth of his bones. “It’s just- we’re in bloody Arafell, or what remains of it, and you are so calm. Have you maybe perhaps forgotten what happened here?!”

“No. I was here when it queen Ara and her kingdom fell. And that bear has lurked every inch of these demolished castle lands searching for scraps, and if you cannot tell, it is almost night fall, and she has come up sufficiently short of anything, for all these decades.”

The listener frowned, bears did not live so long. It was a curious prospect, it remained loyal to these grounds, although it was empty. There had to be a reason why, a pattern that supposed why it, or she as Geralt had divulged, remained to lurk in the midst of the overgrown forestry. And then another thought (yes, Jaskier had the ability to do that despite what his protective travel mate may have wondered), hit him, like a bolt of lightning.

“Um, Geralt, where is the bear?” He gulped, hearing the rustling of the thick foliage metres behind them. The moon scourged the sky with its global presence, inducing another shot of ambient fear through Jaskier’s veins. “It was-“

“Shut up a moment.” It was almost impossible half the time to silence Jaskier, but this time, he actually obliged the command. Geralt drew his sword, the one that glistened a predominate silver and was made from the compound, clutching the handle in his vice and skilled grip, as his feet took him closer to the imposter that was imbedded within the weeds.

“Oh.” Jaskier covered his eyes, he couldn’t look as Geralt pointed the weapon at the beasts throat; a whimper escaped it as Geralt took a step back, alerting his companion. “Kill it Geralt, it’s a bear, it’s going to kill us.”

“It was a bear.” Geralt elaborated as he watched the beast transform and lose its course coat of brown fur, turning into a less monstrous beast. It was only a girl, with unruly and wild hair that was matted in all directions, her face contorted into fear. “Of whom are you, my lady?”

“A witcher.” It trailed from her lips as a whisper, her tone alerting Jaskier that it indeed was not a bear, rather it was a woman, laid on the forest ground, in nothing but her own layers of skin. His eyes widened for a moment, until he earned an elbow in the rib from his friend for his long and convicted ogling. “I have only heard legends but...

“You speak english?” Jaskier wiped his forehead with the back of his hand, hinting at his subsequent misunderstanding of the situation. “but you were a bear?!” This was all growing more confusion with each passing second, there were too many angles of the world.

“I’m cursed.” It was an easy consequence to admit, for the lady of the worlds already lived through them. “Each day, I am forced to pad about in the brute body of a bruin, a sorcerer brought by darkness himself to this dimension damned me to this abomination, his name was-“

“Lament.” From hearing that name, the woman on the ground was taken aback as the women, trying to prevail some decency, attempted to cover her breasts with her arms, as she crossed her legs over one another. “Your parents sent me to find you, lady. I came up empty handed in my search for you, there was no trail that I managed to find, nothing that would point in your direction. And that night, as I returned with short of nothing of any news of your whereabouts, Lament was there.”

“He killed them all, didn’t he. My family?” The answer didn’t require any verification from Geralt, the solemn, yet usual expression on the Witcher’s face was all the confirmation that she needed. “Of course he did, he’s a poisonous shadow, when he finds something he wants, he takes away its home, so that it can’t run back to the hearth whence it came from. I regret every running away from home...”

“Wait a moment.” This was all beginning to add up in some mind boggling way. Jaskier flitted his gaze aside for a moment as Geralt pulled a fine blanket from his luggage, knowingly seeing the movement out of the corner of his curious eye that she was pulling the material that conducted warmth over her shoulders, and across her sachet of flaunted skin.

"Shut up Jaskier." Instantaneously stated the bard, whom had returned his cerulean gaze back upon the y/h/c woman, depositing a composition of interest to her form.

"You're the princess of Arafell, aren't you. Y/n, it's you, isn't it?" Y/n's expression was one of shock; how did this man know of her identity? She understood how the witcher did, though with considering he was condemned with the duty of finding her. The brunette man was slightly familiar, and so he revealed why that was. “it’s Julian.” Jaskier held his hand to his chest, almost hurt that you didn’t recognise him, but it had been years, so many, none of which had been kind to you. “My name is Julian Alfred Pankratz.”

“Dandelion!” The reprised title spun from y/n's tongue, remembering the nickname that she had given the now gentleman all those years ago, when he was nothing more than a persisting boy that made her flash an unashamed laughter in the midst of poised quality showrooms of noble gatherings. "I remember you." She dwelled on the fact, if she weren't clothed in only a shrill and frayed blanket that was pebbled with small dots of soil, from where it had been laid on the ground, y/n surely would have jumped up and spun her arms around his 'sexy goose' neck.

"You've got to be kidding me, it is just my luck that the pair of you know each other." Geralt crossed his arms, shaking his sleek silver head, being deprived of attention as he spoke. "Is there any way to get yourself out to get you out of this prospected curse of turning into a bear, y/n?"

"To be betrothed to a man, confirmed with a kiss resonating true love, though, nobody with any sense would put themselves in that position for me, there is no wealth to my name anymore, nor is there relevance with my heritage, for there is nothing that remains, as you have confirmed for me. This man must certainly be one of a kind, for he has to pledge his loyalty solely to me, forbidding himself from ever being with another woman again."

The mention of a lack of sense reminded Geralt of one man in particular, and he was stood right beside him. But it couldn't have been Jaskier, of all people, and- Geralt found himself overcome with dread as the bard stepped forward, crunching his shoed feet into the withered grass, closer to the rediscovered princess.

"I have waited my whole life to see you again." Oh god, here he went, Geralt thought. "When we were younger, I was infatuated with you, and here we are, united again in a union. If my betrothal means nothing then you will remain in this shrine of gloom, but to me, it would mean everything to me."

"Y/N come on, have some sense, it-" There was lack of reason for Geralt to continue speaking, as y/n sprung up, the blanket flowing down from her shoulders, baring her body cold to the crisp air, as her hands clasped both sides of Jaskier's face, and pressed her lips to his.

The witcher cringed, turning away as the pair practically ate the other's face, like starved animals that had been distanced for many years, which in their case was true. "Do you know if the curse is broken, is there any indicator if so?"

A hum fell from y/n's mouth as Jaskier's hand traced the curve of her spine, causing Geralt to scoff. That was the only response he earned, and to a high stake, it disgusted him. "I think I'm just gonna let you two have some time to yourselves, I guess we will see in the morning if you're being mawled by a bear you flippant."

And thus he walked away, leaving the two to pursue their primitive instincts, under the blessed moon, and on the routed curfew on the dark and dead land of Arafell.

[justthatpratte]

So I Just Watched "Free Guy" Yesterday

Which is a movie I am calling a Ryan Reynolds film rather than a Taika Waititi film because Ryan was just so great in it. I have so many feelings about the movie, I have to talk about it somewhere and y'all are the unlucky sons o' bitches that get to hear it.

First, I have to say that this movie wasn't particularly groundbreaking in any way. It was just a good movie. Not a great movie, not a movie that challenges long-held movie stereotypes, not a movie that is fully awake on social justice, etc. Just a movie that kept me entertained for the majority of its runtime. With entertainment as the goal, it nailed that.

Now, I'm partial to stories of artificial intelligences (the movie AI made me straight up sob). I'm obsessed with stories of creation and the human condition, and A.I. always seem to hit the spot when it comes to exploring those themes. I don't quite like the way it was implemented in the game world; by which I mean, I don't like the way Keys (whom I was excited to see, I hope Steve-From-Stranger-Things gets more roles so I can finally remember what his actual name is) programmed Guy to be a lovelorn weirdo with no social skills who is awakened when he finds his dream girl, a trigger that smacks of Manic-Pixie-Dreamgirl tropes despite Millie not exactly fitting that stereotype. This annoyed me especially because that programming leads Guy to stalk and harass Millie in the game in a way that no woman would enjoy in the real world. Millie, for her part, is written to be apparently completely blind to the real-life dangers that cyberstalking poses for women. Guy sets off so many red flags in this movie it's like he collects them, and the irony is in the statement Guy makes at the bank when he "gifts" the hot-hot-violence-girl (I forget what they named her asset) with agency, which is that most men are awful and choosing to be single is not a bad thing.

It's actually interesting how many times the movie makes a great point about the real world, only to stumble over that point later with its actual progression. It feels like the movie struggled with elements of feminism, which makes me think the writing team did not include a single woman. There's a part in the movie where Buddy just starts feeling up Dude, which is played for laughs, but is a very clear example of sexual harassment and consent violation. It's nice that Dude can just punch people who creep on him, but not all guys who are sexually harassed by other guys have that kind of freedom. It's even weirder that the guy is a security guard, because while the ACAB crowd sort of acknowledges that security guards are often wannabe-cops without the authority, they are just as likely as real cops to abuse the little authority they do have. I have heard some horror stories about women and even kids who were abused by security employees who were on the job, so the choice to include that scene is mind-boggling to me. Plus, Dude's objectification isn't excused by the fact that he was created to be a meathead; he was still created, in the same universe as Guy, with the same software. He's just as much of a person, even if he's a bit differently-abled compared to the others.

So let's talk about some stuff I did like in the movie. I LOVED the diversity of avatars and vehicles and even the weapons. I loved that there were color-changing cars, and that there was a diversity of "skins" for the avatars and the whole city was a jumble of mismatching periods and styles. The freedom of choice and expression that represented to me was wonderful. I play FFXIV, and while there are a lot of people wearing the usual old-timey clothes, you can pick out a lot of people in the background at any given time in their underwear, or in heavy hot pink armor, or with accessories and weapons that glow or have fire effects on them, or wearing cartoonish Moogle masks. You can ride dragons, but you can also ride glowing foxes called Carbuncles, or giant, fat baby chicks, or a car that looks like the fucking Batmobile. There are also mechs and little plane-ships and all manner of other things if you've got the cash to pay for them. I love that. I want that for the real world. I want people to be able to dress how they want and customize their homes and vehicles (safely, ofc) and not be judged or harmed for it. THAT is the future millennials want.

Another thing I liked was Keys's concept of a world with live A.I. that are constantly learning and changing, even when the players are absent. I love the idea of visiting a new world that humans created and just hanging out with the people in it.

However, when Millie told Guy he wasn't "real", that sort of misrepresents what reality actually is. What she meant was that he couldn't exist in her world, even though she could exist in his. Even if he had no intelligence, he would still be "real" for what he was. The world he exists in is still real. Code and machines are real, tangible things; they're not just imagination. They're concrete things that you can see and touch. Just because the virtual world wasn't created the same way ours was (probably; hopefully) doesn't mean it isn't "real". It doesn't cease to exist when you acknowledge it ("I think, therefore I am"). If the definition of personhood is sapience (intellect+empathy), then it doesn't matter whether that sapience is artificial or organic. The physical manifestation of the body is, similarly, not important; we have fleshy bodies full of blood, and A.I. have steely and plastic bodies full of electricity. The game is essentially just hosting Guy's mind; his body is a part of the servers on the bottom floor.

Which reminds me of something that, as a programmer, I had to really squint at in the game. There are a lot of things the movie gets right about programming, but there are a LOT of things it gets hilariously wrong, which isn't really a criticism as much as an observation. It's funny how infuriating a movie that incorporates your field can be, as I'm sure all medical workers well know. A lot of the visual representations of Keys and his partner, the husband from "Ghosts" (US version, whom I also hope to see a lot more of so I can remember his actual name) actually working on the game gives me 90s hacker movie vibes. That may have been at least partially intentional, but there are some points I really tilted my head at; like, the fact that you don't need to include a whole other game's worth of assets in order to steal its engine (there was literally no reason for the paradise game area to be in the new game, that is so much more data than is needed and would bog down the servers if it was just loaded in at all times and running the programming for an entire other environment that nobody was even going to use). Or, the fact that they had to load in a bridge to reach the other game world when a programmer could just remove the barrier with a few key presses. Or the fact that you wouldn't even need to see the paradise game area to prove that your boss (Taika Waititi; I am not sure if he is an actual asshole or just enjoys playing one) stole your game engine; there would literally be code you could view and read and be like "huh, this is identical to the code I wrote". Most of the time when developers get caught with stolen software, it's because the game's programming was leaked and the original authors were able to see with their own face-orbs that the code is a literal, line-for-line copy of what they themselves wrote.

There was a lot of cheese in this film too (not in the literal sense), which isn't necessarily bad, but the moments they chose to use it sort of undercut important emotional responses. When Millie kisses Guy to wake up his A.I. programming (again, very squicky plot point), the visual representation of his choice map was unnecessary and distracting because of how silly it looked. It was a little jarring, even for a movie that takes place in a universe where neon signs and iridescent coin bubbles are bouncing around.

I did like the ending for Taika Waititi's character, Antwan (who is basically the film's equivalent of EA), who made a bunch of stupid decisions in the interest of maximizing profits while alienating his entire consumer base, and then lost everything when the truth got out about his shitty business practices. If only that were more representative of the real world, but it does fill me with warm memories about the downfall of the XBOX One and subsequent firing of its lead developer, who called backwards compatibility "backwards thinking. We need more of that.

We see a lot of stories about the creation of these worlds, but I'd like to see some exploration of them too. I want to see what the relationship is like for these immortal game characters and their tragically mortal creators. I want to see the characters in the game learn about us, lose us and cope with the loss, and welcome new people and get accustomed to that rotation.

Anyway, the thing I liked the most about the movie is that it made me think.

Also!! Jacksepticeye was in the movie! That was very exciting to me, since I'm going through his catalog of LPs right now (I just got through Bloodborne and Elden Ring and I'm now watching God of War). If Markiplier had made even a moment's appearance, Free Guy would have been my de facto favorite movie. Honestly, in spite of not being particularly fabulous in a lot of ways, it's still in my top ten. I love, love, LOVE that they included real Youtubers in the movie. This is the first movie I have ever seen blend Youtubers and famous film actors. There were loads of big-name actors I recognized in the movie apart from Ryan and Taika; the Rock was in it, Jim-from-the-office was in it, Channing Tatum was in it, Hugh Jackman was fucking in it and I didn't even notice (I was fuming that his character wasn't more front-facing; I've been waiting forever to see him do a movie with Reynolds), fucking Chris Evans made a cameo. The actual Alex Trebek was in the Jeopardy scene. Tina Fey was there. And then they also had Pokimane, DanTDM, and LazarBeam (none of whom I watch, but I was still excited to see them) in the movie, which to me means that the mainstream is finally beginning to acknowledge that Youtubers are professional entertainers, writers, and actors on par with their traditional media counterparts, which is an important development for internet culture as those of us who make our living online can attest that the greater culture doesn't take our contributions seriously.

This is especially true for Youtubers, who often have a closer relationship with their fanbase. It feels special to see somebody you've been following for years finally be acknowledged in the mainstream. I wanted to run and tell Seán that I'd seen him in the movie, even though I'm sure he'd never see the message given that he has almost 30 million followers and subscribers on his channel. But like in Markiplier's case, I've been watching Mark since just before FNAF blew up and back then he still had kind of a lot of followers, but not so many that you couldn't touch him. He would read people's comments and reply, and he'd answer direct messages. It was cool to be there during that time, even though I never interacted with him personally. Even today, Mark interacts directly with his subscribers while he's streaming and it's like the touch of God to be acknowledged by somebody you have so much love and respect for. It's awesome to think you could be watching and talking to somebody right now who could be famous all over the world one day. It's cool to think it could even be you someday.

I also love that the name of the movie is a pun. Because Guy is a guy from Free World, but the movie is also about freeing Guy.

Anyway, if you haven't watched it then do so now and if you noticed anything I didn't feel free to point it out! I would love to discuss it more.

[thatrandomwriter]

Returning the favor

Merle x female reader, reader saves Merle’s life after he cuts off his hand

Warnings: sexual language, slight gore, cursing

A banging at the door made me jump awake - I never slept deeply anymore, and I spent most of my nights in and out of what could barely be described as sleep, easily woken and constantly exhausted.

My first thought was a particularly persistent walker. But then I heard a voice, raspy and southern “I saw you through the window. Open up. Or I swear, I’ll kick this damn door down.” It was most likely a looter. Opening the door to him seemed immediately like the stupid option, but if he was serious about knocking my door down then I would have to find a new place to hide out, an extra risk I could not afford to take. My best bet was to overpower him at the door. He’d seen me through the window and probably assumed that I’d be easily threatened, but what he hadn’t seen was the pistol I kept hidden by the door, or the knives I had stashed under my mattress and around the small room.

The banging on the door got more persistent. I grabbed a knife, and ensured my gun was easily in reach. It wouldn’t hurt to have extra weapons he didn’t know about.

I swung open the door. A tall, broad man stood in my doorway. One arm was pointing a gun vaguely in my direction, the other dripping so much blood it almost looked black. His hand had been cut off.

“Get out. All your shit is mine now, don’t think I won’t shoot you just cuz yer a girl,” He sneered at me, feigning confidence, but his skin was tinged grey and sweat was beading on his brow. He was weak and there was no way he could physically overpower me in this state, despite his muscular frame.

I raised a sceptical eyebrow at his threat. Then, in one swift motion, I knocked the gun from his hand and pushed my knife to his throat, firmly enough for a small bead of blood to gather on the edge of the blade. He opened his mouth, probably about to say something stupid, before the full weight of his body collapsed into me and he lost consciousness.

*

Somehow, with strength I hadn’t even known I had, I half lifted, half dragged the man’s body over to my mattress on the floor. It was clear he had lost far too much blood. I knew it was stupid, but some part of me wanted to help him, even though I knew he had come here to rob me blind, and possibly to kill me after he had taken all of my possessions. I told myself it was because leaving him outside would attract walkers. But really some part of me was still weak and soft, and somehow I had sympathy for a man who could not give less of a shit about me.

Minor medical training from books I had scavenged and stolen told me that he was in desperate need of stitches, and likely had a severe infection from his wound, and that it needed to be treated fast or there was no way he could survive without a hospital, which, for obvious reasons, was not an option. The building I had set up camp in was a small convenience store in the city which I used to run, and decided to stay in when the dead started walking. Unfortunately, the store had tempted many thieves in the early days, but as time went on, less and less people braved the city. The man must have seen that my store was the least damaged for several blocks, and identified it as his best bet at survival. He was right - behind the counter were antibiotics and just enough first aid equipment for me to have a chance at saving him. Even if he had stolen my supplies, it was unlikely that he would have managed treating his own wound.

The stitches were the worst part. I had never liked needles, and as far as facing my fears went, this was seriously hands on. It was messily done, probably a laughable job compared to professional standards. And I was sure that the amount of blood on the floor, my hands and staining my clothes was biologically impossible. But somehow he was still alive, something I still hadn’t decided was a good or bad thing. At least he was unconscious for now.

*

Two days passed. I was getting used to sleeping with him around, trying not to think about what he might do if he awoke while I was asleep- waking up to a gun in my face was a real possibility, but one that I had to risk. I slept on the floor next to the mattress he was occupying, uncomfortable enough to be exhausted but easily woken if he or the walkers became an immediate threat.

I sat next to him on the mattress, cleaning his arm, checking that the infection was fading and that the stitches were holding like they should be. It was strange looking after someone who had barely spoken two sentences to me, those sentences being delirious threats after severe blood loss. I often found myself wondering what he would have been like if we had met before the world had ended, at a bar maybe, where he could have bought me a drink or two. I like to think that he would have been the type to hit on me shamelessly and I would have been cynical but secretly loved his advances. I cut myself off in my head. It was ridiculous to think like this. With some effort, I focused back on his arm and began to change his bandage, but my eyelids were growing heavy and I had forgotten how comfortable the mattress was. Every time I closed my eyes, sleep tried to pull me down. I just had to keep them open, just had to focus-

I jolted awake. It almost pitch dark, if I had to guess a time I would have said an hour or two before dawn. There was a hand around my mouth and an arm was around my waist, holding me still against the warm, hard body behind me. He had woken up. Immediately I struggled against him, biting his hand and elbowing him in the stomach. He swore under his breath, but his grip only tightened around me.

“Stop wrigglin’. There’s walkers in here, I’m tryna figure out how many, so for fuck’s sake stay still.”

I nodded. He removed the hand from my mouth, but the arm around my waist stayed. Probably a precaution in case I tried anything again.

“Sorry,” I whispered back. “How did they get in - and when did you wake up? What’s your name? Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Now wasn’t the time for questions, but I was desperate for answers. For all I knew, the only reason he hadn’t killed me yet was to keep me as bait for the walkers.

He shushed me. Then, he finally let go of me and stood up. “Wait here.”

He walked off in the direction of a shuffling noise, and seconds later I heard the thunk of a knife through a skull, and the sound of a body hitting the floor. The sound, quiet as it was, caused another walker’s movements to become frenzied. I heard snarling and then the sound of a second body hitting the floor. There were no more walker sounds, just the sound of the man walking back towards me.

I jumped to my feet and reached for the knife normally hooked through my belt. It was gone, as was the knife under my mattress. I had no defence against the stranger that I had so stupidly taken care of.

“Window’s broken, s’what woke me up. You were out cold. Hope ya had a nice nap.”

I stood up, trying to read his face in the growing bit still dim light.

“Name’s Merle. And you, sugar tits, are exceptionally lucky that I believe in returning favours.”

So he didn’t plan on killing me after all. I shook off the lingering fear caused by both him and the walkers getting so close.

“Thanks. And you’re welcome, I stitched you up good. And don’t call me that, or I’ll chop of your other hand,” He smirked at me, knowing my threat was entirely empty.

“Oh yeah? I’m not so sure you wanna do that, sweetheart, you haven’t seen the half of what I can do with this hand,” His smile was suggestive and I could feel my face getting hot.

“I’m gonna board up the broken window,” I attempted to ignore his last sentence, but it was clear he could tell I was flustered as he stepped forward, closing in on me.

“Don’t ya think we should get to know each other a little first?”

[lin-nin]

Tribulation & Tenderness - Chapter 12

Ship: Main Technoblade x Reader, some Dream x Reader Plot: You're a princess in a Kingdom suffering a years long famine. In a     desperate attempt to help your people, you accept one simple offer: Marriage to the crown prince of a neighboring kingdom. Anything to help your people survive. Surely it can't be too bad, can it? Chapter List: 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 Disclaimer:   Cross-posted on Wattpad (discontinued) and Ao3. This is based off of everyone's CHARACTERS. I do not write fanfic based off the actual people.

--

Chapter 12: Called In Favors

< | Previous Chapter The weeks had blurred together once you had properly settled into your new home. Your days were spent often either reading something you found in the library that wasn't at your castle, or training with Techno. The training had been rough on you, horribly so. Bruises were blooming all over your body, especially your back. Despite getting better on your feet and with your response time to Techno, he never failed to knock you down at least a dozen times before calling it a day. It was frustrating, but definitely served to motivate you.

The boys had taken to watching you sometimes, with Tommy and Tubbo cheering you on. Wilbur would sometimes call out advice from the sidelines, and it was something you were thankful for. Beyond the training, you often met with Eret to go over wedding plans. The two of you had grown extremely close over the weeks, swapping stories as he fussed over your dress. You appreciated his friendship like no other, extremely content to have made a proper friend.

The wedding was only a couple of days away now, and you were giddily pacing around Eret. He laughed at you, moving to grab your arm to stop you. “Relax, pacing isn’t going to make them show up any sooner,” He murmured, and you couldn’t help the impatient way you twirled.

“I know. I just miss them and want them to hurry up,” You practically whined, toying with the sleeves of your dress. Dream and George were supposed to be showing up today, and staying for about a week. Excitement coursed through you the moment you had woken up, the excitement blatantly clear in your eyes.

“You miss them, don’t you?” He gave you a soft look and smile, letting go of your arm to let you pace again. 

“Always. It’s not as bad as I thought it would be, but I still miss them. George is my brother, I naturally miss his guidance. Dream is my partner in crime, we’ve always been joined at the hip. I feel lost without him by my side.” You paused by the window, peering out at the courtyard. Tubbo and Tommy were squaring off, pointing swords at each other. It was always interesting to watch them fight, how seriously they could take it, swinging as if they had the intent to take a limb off each other. Only to turn around a few moments later and tackle the other and laugh, as if they weren’t practically at each other's throat. It was endearing in a sweet way.

“I see. I suppose your restlessness would make sense, then.” He wandered over to stand beside you, watching Tommy and Tubbo as well. The two swung their swords at one another, practically anticipating one another’s movements. You yearned to have the added danger of sharp objects in your training. While you did enjoy the hand-to-hand, it wasn’t nearly as exciting as what you were watching.

“Do you think Techno will let me fight with my dagger any time soon?” You mused, turning to look at Eret. He hummed, shrugging slightly.

“He’s probably going to try and make sure your hand-to-hand is nearly perfect before he lets you actively touch your dagger.” You pouted at that, huffing a little.

“That’s boring, it gets so repetitive. Not that it isn’t useful, of course it is. I was just hoping to learn to use a weapon much sooner.” You grumbled, moving away from the window. The ballroom had most of its decorations up, leading to it feeling like a completely different place. You ran your fingers along the table, tracing the grain on the wood.

“It’s good if you’re finding it repetitive. He might actually let you use your dagger soon. Ask him about it later,” Eret laughed, following behind you. As he did, you could hear Tommy yell obscenities at Tubbo, making you shake your head. Loud as ever.

“He better. Wonder if he’ll let me show off for Dream and George.” You gave a crooked grin. You could already imagine the frustration on their faces as you trained. Your training sessions were nearly daily anyways, and you hoped that Techno didn’t choose today of all days for a day off. You really wanted to show off and make it known that you could hold yourself in a battle. Especially with Techno.

“He’s cocky when it comes to his fighting, he’ll want to show off. You won’t even have to ask him.” You couldn’t help but grin at that, eyes alight. Good. You really wanted to be able to see how the two would react. You had a rough feeling on how Dream would react, but you really wanted to see if he would be proud after all of it was said and done. After all, learning to fight from literally nothing wasn’t a small task.

“Good! That’s all I ask for the time being. I’ll ask about my dagger later, then.” Eret only gave you an amused look, watching you return to wandering around the room. You were just incredibly eager to see your brother again. Even though it was for your wedding, a thought that had your stomach flipping. You still had trouble picturing it as your own wedding, despite the fact you had helped through every single step of it.

“It’ll probably have to wait until after your marriage. It’s already bad enough you’re all bruised up before the wedding, we don’t need any cuts showing up,” Eret teased and you huffed, acutely aware of how it would look. Neither George nor Dream would be pleased about the bruises on your forearms from blocking hits from Techno. Not that you cared too much what they thought about them. You were happy that they were there because it meant you were learning. You were improving on top of it, too. You had to be.

“I suppose I can be okay with that. After the wedding I better be using my dagger, or Techno is gonna have a few problems.” You settled your hands on your hips, puffing out your chest.

“Somehow I doubt you could give him very many problems.” Eret’s laugh was contagious, easily breaking through your initial pout.

“Maybe I could, you don’t know!” You wandered to stand beside him, peering as he messed with some of the decorations, making sure they sat as he wanted. “Do we need to do a final dress fitting?”

“No, the only thing you need to do is take it easy and prepare yourself for your wedding tomorrow.” Eret reached over, patting your shoulder. You huffed. You had been antsy the entire time, wanting to make sure everything was perfect. While it was an arranged marriage, it was still your one and only wedding. You were going to make sure things were perfect for it. As much as you could, anyways.

“That means do nothing until George and Dream get here. Who knows when that’ll be,” You whined, dramatically leaning against him. He laughed, head shaking.

“Realistically? Anytime soon. Didn’t the prince say they were planning to leave early morning?” You nodded at the question, craning your head towards the main hall. They would be arriving soon, and it caused excited butterflies to swirl around your stomach. Eret noticed, pushing you gently towards the door. “Go wait for them before you wear a path into the floor.”

You didn’t need to be told twice, grinning thankfully at your friend as you took off towards the door. The morning sun beat down on the ground outside, and you giddily went to the same spot Philza, Tommy, Tubbo, and Wilbur had stood for your arrival. You rocked back and forth on your heels, staring down the stone path expectantly. As if they would appear if you so much as blinked.

“You seem excited,” A voice mused from beside you. You yelped in surprise, jumping a little. Techno stood beside you, looking down in amusement at you. When the hell had he snuck up on you? Were you really that focused on Dream and George’s arrival?

“I am, I missed them,” you replied, turning your gaze towards the path again. A fond smile was painted on your face, eyes bright with excitement.

“They should be here soon. The carriage was seen pulling into the capital not too long ago.” The words only fuelled your excitement, and it took everything in you to not start pacing again. You really were restless with the excitement, the movement felt like the only way to expel it. Other than being able to hug George properly. You simply continued to rock on your heels, excitedly listening out for the sound of them. Under the assumption you didn’t see them first.

You heard the steady pace of horse hooves before you saw the carriage, though you stood on your tip-toes. You grasped onto Techno’s arm for balance as you craned in an attempt to see. From your peripheral you could see him look at you, that amused smile on his face. His hand covered yours on his arm, allowing you to properly look for the carriage as it pulled up.

You were practically bouncing when it came to a stop, fingers curling into Techno’s arm. You didn’t even care who came out of the damned thing first, you were going to hug them. Techno laughed as you stared, watching the door open with such eager anticipation. You launched yourself away from Techno, throwing yourself at the man who stepped out of the carriage.

Arms wrapped around you, a startled laugh ringing in your ears as you were spun around before your feet returned to the ground. “Good to see you too.” You pulled back a little, grinning at George fondly.

“I missed you so much,” You held onto him tight, not wanting too much to part.

“It’s been a rough few weeks, hasn’t it?” He reached up to ruffle your hair, much to your protest.

“Did you miss me too?” Dream’s voice called as he stepped down onto the stone. Excitement lit up your face as you untangled yourself from your brother.

“Dream!” You called excitedly as you threw yourself at him next. He picked you up as your arms wrapped around his neck, holding you tight against him. “Of course I missed you, idiot. You never replied to any of my letters.” You buried your face into his neck, relishing the familiar scent of fresh linen and roses, as well as the sharp tang of metal. It was comforting to smell it again.

“I was busy with a few things, but I promised I read each and every one of them,” He assured you, hands squeezing your waist. Techno cleared his throat from behind the two of you, and you sheepishly pulled away from your friend at that. You offered Dream a gentler smile, turning to offer it to Techno as well. The same look he had given Dream back when you set off in the carriage, except it was a little more off putting now that you could actually see his facial expression. The down tilt of his mouth, the way his eyes were narrowed. It was enough to make you take a few large steps back from Dream, closer to Techno.

“I’m glad to see you made it here safely. I take it the trip was okay?” Techno mainly addressed George as he spoke, and you wandered back to his side. Standing between George and Dream held a different feeling than it had previously. George followed when Techno moved towards the castle. His hand settled in the middle of your lower back to guide you, an action that made heat rise to your cheeks. You were used to him resting a hand on your back, but it was always between your shoulder blades.

“It was, thank you. Have things been fine here?” George upheld the conversation, and you just let the two of them talk. Between the hand on your back and the heated stare you could feel burning holes into you, you didn’t think you trusted your voice at the moment.

“I’ll let you show them around. Come to the courtyard when you’re finished,” Techno addressed you, hand finally moving away from your back. You missed the touch just the slightest, but met Techno’s pointed look evenly. For training. He meant to meet him there to train. A smile blossomed on your face as it clicked.

“Alright, I shouldn’t take too long.” You watched him leave towards the courtyard, but not before he narrowed his eyes at Dream once more. It was going to be a long week, wasn’t it? You tried to ignore it, focusing instead on showing them around.

“He’s much less intimidating without the mask,” George mused, and you couldn’t help but laugh.

“He’s only intimidating when he wants to be.” You led them towards the east wing, entirely forgoing the west wing. It was mostly just servants quarters and work rooms, so truly Dream and George didn’t need to know too much about it. You informed them as much, too.

“Where’s your dagger?” Dream questioned as you lead them into the dining hall, causing you to look at your hip. You hadn’t been wearing it since you never used it yet, and taking it off during training was just an extra step you didn’t care for.

“I haven’t learned to use it yet, though I’ll probably start learning to use it after the wedding.” You grinned bright, and George made a sound of disagreement.

“I still don’t think you need to be learning to fight. Surely you won’t be in a position where Technoblade can’t protect you.” You shrugged, leading them down the wings and pointing out various rooms.

“I don’t think I will be put into the position, but it doesn’t hurt to have the knowledge should it be needed.” You led them up the stairs next, heading towards the rooms they would be staying in.

“Just don’t get yourself hurt. I don’t want to get a letter about that.” Dream gave you a pointed look and you laughed, head shaking. 

“I won’t! I take good care of myself!” You defended, watching them examine the rooms. When they were satisfied and returned to your side, excitement bubbled in your stomach. This meant you were closer to training, all you had to do was change and head to the courtyards.

“Going to come with me to the courtyard?” You asked with an excited smile, heading in the direction of your room. 

“I don’t see why not. You seem awfully excited.” George raised an eyebrow and you grinned, peering out of the windows as you passed the ones that overlooked the courtyard. You could see the training patch from here, and you could very clearly see Techno on it, across from Philza. Both had swords drawn, practically dancing around each other and calculating the others movements. They moved with a sense of clear familiarity, around both each other and their blades. It wasn’t the first time you had seen Techno train using his sword, but it always enraptured you every time.

“I am.” Your voice was soft as George and Dream also glanced out the windows to see what you were looking at. Just in time for Techno to knock Philza’s sword out of his hand, the weapon bouncing along the ground. His shoulders heaved, a cocky grin on his face when his uncle raised his hands in defeat. He sheathed the sword, hand raising to wipe sweat from his brow. He’d clearly been training from the moment he’d been out there.

As if aware you were watching his gaze tilted up, looking towards the window. More specifically, towards you. He gave a grin your way, hand raising in a small wave which you couldn’t help but return. He raised his eyebrows, almost as if a silent question on if you were almost done and you couldn’t help but nod excitedly. From beside you, Dream huffed, especially at the smug smile on Techno’s face. You didn’t care, simply moving away from the window to move to your room faster.

“I have to change, but then we can go to the courtyard.” You practically ran into your room, eager to change into your pants and boots as opposed to the dress. You eyed the exposed bruises on your forearms, knowing full and well the reaction you were about to get. You slid out of your room, grinning up at George and Dream. “Okay, so, I may be about to go train-” You slowly started, warily eyeing their reactions. George made a noise of protest, eyes going wide. Dream shot a hand out, grabbing your wrist and lifting your arm up. The dim lighting in the hall illuminated the bruises of varying shades, as well as the scowl on Dream’s face.

“This is what happens when you train? You’re covered in bruises!” Dream demanded and you flinched a little, slipping your arm from his grasp.

“It’s from blocking hits, it’s not like he’s trying to hurt me,” You grumbled, sidestepping the blonde. The look on his face had made you uneasy, and you didn’t want to look at it. You just wanted to get to the courtyard. 

“You don’t know that! There’s no telling if he wants to hurt you or not!” Dream persisted from behind you. You took a breath, pausing on the stairs and looking at him.

“Dream, I am absolutely fine. You’ll see.” You didn’t give him too much time to react, darting down the stairs. You didn’t want a lecture- you wanted to train. You wanted to have fun. You could hear the two following behind you, as well as George’s soft muttering. Presumably he was reassuring the taller, but you didn’t care to listen to what they were saying.

The warmth of the sun was definitely welcome as it hit your skin. It was a familiar feeling, and you couldn’t help the eager grin on your face as you looked to Techno. He offered you a faint smile as he messed with his hair. He tugged it back, looping it into a loose bun. You raised an eyebrow at it, coming to stand across from him. “Taking this seriously enough to pull your hair back?” You questioned, swinging your arms across your chest in a stretch.

“I have to show your brother how much you’ve improved, don’t I?” He shifted, taking up a fighting stance once more. You naturally fell in line, mimicking his stance. George awkwardly stood to one side, Dream watching with a glare and his arms across his chest. Back behind Techno stood Philza, curiosity clear in his gaze. He hadn’t particularly watched the two of you train in the past, so it seemed now was the time he picked. Tommy and Wilbur were sat on the ground at his feet, watching with varying curiosity and interest.

You rolled your shoulders, before charging at Techno as you often did. You didn’t even have to think too much anymore, feigning to one side and shooting a hand out to clip his side. He had made sure very early on you learned to use your size to your advantage. That showed here as he turned, moving to hit you. You narrowly blocked the hand with your arm, jumping back as his foot shot out. The hit would have landed on your calf had it landed, and you were kinda thankful it had missed this time.

He didn’t relent on you as you danced on your toes, exchanging hits evenly. You stumbled when his hand passed your face, making you dodge to your best ability. You swung a fist out in retaliation, and he easily caught it. He swung it, pinning the arm behind your back. One hand moved towards your neck, hovering as if he had a knife. If he did, the blade would be very near your neck. Blood rushed in your ears, the adrenaline pumping. You were effectively trapped and defeated.

"I think I win this round," He murmured against your ear, and the blood rushed to your face. You were suddenly very aware of the way your back pressed to his chest. You were also vaguely aware of Tommy making disgusted gagging noises from the side.

"It would seem so," You managed to say back, voice barely short of a squeak. He unhanded you, allowing you to slip away from him. Your heart thundered as you took up your spot once more, looking at Techno’s family. Philza had this bemused look on your face, whereas Wilbur looked almost bored and Tommy looked disgusted. Your ears flushed and you focused in Techno once more, hands raised.

"Fight me," Dream's voice interrupted as he stepped into the middle of you and Techno. You blinked up at the blonde, turning to look at George. George had simply shrugged and you looked back towards Dream. Techno had stepped around him, an almost agitated look on his face.

"I was under the impression you didn't want her fighting?" He levelled Dream with a glare, which Dream only seemed to take in stride. Your stomach twisted anxiously, eyes darting between the two men.

"I don't but clearly you're going to teach her anyways." The way venom practically dripped from Dream's voice was worrisome, a trait you had only seen in him once or twice before.

"Well her future is here, so I think it matters more what I want and what she wants." He inclined his head, looking at him down the bridge of his nose. Tommy had leaned over to whisper to Wilbur, glancing at the two uneasily. Techno's fingers had twitched towards one of his swords, and it seemed like Dream was thinking similarly.

"Hey, its fine! I'll train with him! It'll be good to fight someone I'm not familiar with!" You exclaimed as you moved forwards, slotting yourself between them. You pushed at both of their chests, hoping to diffuse the situation. Dream gave Techno a smug smirk, and Techno simply sighed with a nod.

"Fine," He relented, taking a few steps back. He stood beside Philza, looking none too pleased.  You stepped back from Dream, returning to your spot. You could, at the very least, spar with him. So long as it kept the situation from escalating. He didn't wait for you to be ready like Techno often did, instead going straight for you.

You spun on your toes, yelping and dodging out of the way from the hit aimed towards your stomach. You rebounded from the initial shock, spinning again to smack your heel against his thigh. The slight wince that crossed his face immediately brought satisfaction bubbling up, a smile on your face. You weren’t given much time to celebrate the hit, though. You had to react fast, meeting each hit with your own. You winced a little as he struck your wrist, cursing under your breath.

His hits and timing were a lot less forgivable than Techno’s, having an edge to him that you were never quite prepared for. Your eyebrows knitted together as you punched at his shoulder on his bad side, knocking him off balance. His hand shot out, grasping onto your wrist and dragging you down with him. You yelped in surprise, his back slamming into the ground. His body padded you're fall, a small thing you were thankful for.

You weren't given too much time to contemplate the next course of action, getting thrown off of his chest. He rolled the pair of you over, leaving you pinned to the ground beneath him. His hand moved, mimicking as Techno had earlier. Like if he had a knife it would be pressed to your neck.

"I win," Dream whispered and leaned down, smug smirk still on his face. You huffed beneath him, shoving slightly at his hand at your defeat.

"Alright, you win. Now get off of me," You grumbled. You pouted a little and pushed at his shoulder, ignoring the way the smugness vanished. He complied, getting off of you and allowing you to sit up.

"You still have a lot of work to do." His voice came from above you, and you rolled your shoulders. You glanced up at him, raising an eyebrow. 

"I haven't been training that long, of course I still need to learn." You placed your hands up under you, moving to push yourself up. Before you could, Techno’s all too familiar hand came into sight, offering to help you. He had inserted himself between you and Dream, a frown tugging at his lips. You easily took his hand, allowing him to pull you up. You stumbled as he did so with a little more force than necessary, colliding into his chest with a squeak.

"She did fine. She's not some delicate flower who needs you to keep her thorns clipped." He hardly seemed bothered by you being pressed to his chest, only seeming focused on staring down Dream. You carefully pulled away from Techno’s chest, though you continued to linger by him.

"I never said she was,” Dream spat, causing your nervousness to rise.

“Dream-” George started, moving to grab his friend’s shoulder.

“You didn’t say it explicitly, but your actions said it well enough.” You raised a hand, gently pressing it on Techno’s upper arm.

“Techno-” You murmured softly, moving to push him away. The two glowered at each other, though Techno did allow you to move him. You ushered him towards his brothers, glancing back at Dream nervously. Whatever tension was between these two was quite dangerous, and you didn’t like it. “Dream, maybe you and George should go to your rooms for right now.” Your voice was tense, unsure if the blonde would listen.

“She’s right, Dream.” George’s voice was low as he moved the younger back. For a moment, it seemed like he was going to refuse. Dream pushed George off of him, turning and heading towards the castle. George shot you an apologetic look, chasing after him. You breathed a sigh of relief, rubbing your face.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what got into him,” You apologized to Techno, who finally looked to you again.

“What a dickhead,” Tommy chimed, a frown on his face as he looked towards the castle. You sighed, not even knowing how to respond. 

“Is he always like that?” Wilbur raised an eyebrow at you, drawing your attention to him.

“Not usually. He’s never done any of that before.” You turned back to Techno, watching him closely. His brows were furrowed, irritation sparkling in his eyes.

“Enough about him. We need to keep training you. Philza.” Techno turned towards his uncle. The older man walked forward, raising an eyebrow. “Go tell Ranboo I need a favor from him. Keep an eye on him,” He muttered softly, eyes cutting towards where Dream had left. Philza followed the gaze and nodded, leaving Techno’s full attention to focus on you. 

“Round two?” You questioned softly with a smile, eager for distraction. As Philza left towards the castle, Techno took up his normal stance and motioned for you. Sparring was better than dealing with whatever dramatics Dream had, and easier than wondering what this favor was that Techno called in from whoever Ranboo was.

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