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andreafmn · 3 years

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I'm Not Afraid - Chapter 6

Word Count: 3,753

Characters: Female Reader Argent Character, Original Male Argent Character, Derek Hale, Allison Argent, Scott McCall, Stiles Stilinski, Isaac Lahey, Lydia Martin, Chris Argent, Jackson Whittemore

Story Description: (Y/N) Argent arrived at Beacon Hills to put to rest her father’s sister, Kate Argent. For the first time, her family has decided to settle down and sustain a life in this interesting small town. After 17 years, (Y/N) has the opportunity to establish interpersonal relationships but will she be ready to face the complications that come with relating to her cousin’s, Allison, friends; especially, the infamous Derek Hale. She will face the adventure of being associated with the Derek and McCall pack as well as being faced with the discovery of certain aspects of her life she never imagined.

*DISCLAIMER* I do not own in any way Teen Wolf, all credits of the pre-established characters, script, and storyline belong to Jeff Davis and MTV Network. The only thing I own is Argent Reader insert, her immediate family, and her storyline, as well as her effects in the others’ storyline.

Chapter: 6/?

Warnings: mentions of murder, arson, and blood

A/N: The ending is dark, y'all, dark. If you enjoy my writing I’ll also be posting them in AO3 and Wattpad along with other stories (I also hope to start taking requests if ya’ll want) Hope you enjoy and all constructive criticism is encouraged.

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Chapter 6

I followed my father inside the house, my hands trembling and sweating. The only topic I believed they would seriously need to talk to me about was the supernatural and the family business. Just as I had told Derek, if I hadn’t met him and Scott, I would have probably joined without a second thought. But I had met them, I had been embraced by them, and I didn’t know what I was going to answer.

I sat across from my parents on the kitchen’s island. They seemed excited, but a bit anxious. Obviously, revealing to your daughter the existence of supernatural beings and the fact that the whole family hunted them wasn’t an easy task. At least, she already knew the most hard-hitting information and she wouldn’t feel blindsided.

“Honey, what we have to tell you is very important, and we don’t want you to feel like we have been keeping this from you on purpose,” my mother started. “But you need to understand that everything we have to say today is nothing but the truth. Okay?”

“Guys, what is it? You’re scaring me.”

“You know that all Argents work at the family company, Argent Arms International, and that at some point you’d probably end up working there.”

“Yeah, dad. The reason I know too much about weapons,” I laughed. I couldn’t let on that I knew more than they thought.

“Well, the company is actually a front for the real work we do behind the scenes, and the reason we’re on the road a lot,” my father started. “Since the start of our lineage Argents have been hunters.”

“Hunters of what?”

“Now, I need you to remember that what I am about to tell you is the full honest truth.” I nodded. “We hunt supernatural creatures, but mainly werewolves. You remember the tattoo I have on my arm that you asked about when you were younger?”

“Yeah, ‘Nous chassons ceux qui nous chassent’. French, we hunt those who hunt us. I always thought it was more of a psychological phrase.”

“That’s our family mantra. All Argent generations have been trained since childhood to become hunters one day, Chris and I were the only ones that decided to give you and Allison the choice once you became teenagers to know about our world. It’s completely up to you to join us.”

“So, all the training, physical and with weapons, was all in preparation for this?” My father nodded. I could see the worry in his face of how I would take this news – a one-worded answer was going to shift my whole life. It was one thing to be knowledgeable of this life, it was another to be in the center of all of it.

“We run by a code,” my father explained. “We only hunt those who have been proven to have harmed innocent lives – only adults, no young ones, and no humans. Any hunter that breaks that code is an enemy to our cause.”

“Is that what aunt Kate did?” I spoke in a hushed tone knowing this was a difficult topic for my father, one that we hadn’t touched upon in the time we had been here.

“Yes, it is” my mother answered. Her dislike towards her sister-in-law wasn’t a secret. Mom had always thought of her as arrogant and self-centered – or so she would state when in an alcohol-induced rant.

“Unfortunately, my sister did break the code, but that’s beside the point,” dad interjected. “Sweetheart, we make sure that everyone around us is protected from the creatures that are unknown. So, what do you think? Do you want to join us?”

They both studied my face, waiting on any reaction that could arise from me. All I could think is how my decision could affect the people that had made their way into my life. Allison had accepted, and although her relationship with Scott was strained, she still managed to keep him close. But what if I accepted and all it did was deteriorate all the new relationship I was trying to build?

“Yes.”

After the conversation, my father warned me that training would start soon, after I passed some sort of test. They were happy that I had agreed to join the family trade, but I noticed a sign of worry in my father’s eyes. His whole life had been built around supernatural hunting, so what was he worried about? Whatever it was, he did not express. They had both been called away on a meeting and excused themselves before leaving. With the house to myself, I basked in my decision sitting on the living room couch, petting Brody.

“What do you think, bub? Did I make the right choice?” Brody looked up at me, his tongue hanging out, a smile on his face. A bark came after and I took it as confirmation that I had. “Maybe you’re right. We’ll see, huh? Should I call Derek and tell him?”

At the sound of Derek’s name, Brody barked out happily. I laughed at his reaction and decided to call Derek. It still surprised me that Brody had taken to Derek so quickly – probably had to do with him being a werewolf and an alpha. I clicked on his contact on my phone and waited on speaker for him to pick up.

“Hello?” His voice rang out, exciting Brody once more. “Hey, buddy!”

“He’s been very excited to hear from you.”

“I can see,” he chuckled. “I can assume you made it home safely?”

“Yeah, I did.”

“What’s wrong? You sound weird.”

“How can you possibly deduct my tone from over the phone?”

“Intuition, you could say. But seriously, what’s wrong?”

“Well, my parents talked to me about the family business,” I breathed out, nerves building up inside. I didn’t know what his reaction would be, and I hope my decision wouldn’t push him away. “They asked me to join them.”

“And what did you say?” He already knew the answer. Asking was just courtesy.

“I said yes.” He kept quiet for a second, and I truly believed I had ruined our relationship before anything had ever started. “Are you mad?”

“I can’t be mad. I understand why you did it, they’re your family. Why would you think I would be mad?”

“I don’t know. I’m gonna be actively working on hunting you and your kind, that would put a strain on any kind of relationship.”

“And what kind of relationship would that be?” He teased.

“Derek, this is serious. What kind of relationship could we have when we’re born enemies?”

“Allison and Scott seem to make it work. It’s hard, but it’s not impossible.”

“So, sneaking around, worrying every second that we’d be found out by hunters. Seems viable,” I snickered. “And in no way, shape, or form stressful. Believe me, Derek, I have enough anxiety as it is. I don’t need the stress of keeping all my relationships secret.”

“Do you have any other choice?”

“I guess I don’t.”

“The way I see it, (Y/N), is you can use this opportunity and work for both sides. You can protect us from the inside, and hunt those that are a real threat. Like the Kanima,” he stated. It made sense to work with my family to protect my friends, even if my family was hunting them. “And, as much as I hate saying this, you should talk to Allison about this. She seems to be handling this way better than I thought.”

“I will. Thanks, Derek. I’ll call you soon, okay?”

“I’ll be waiting. Sleep well, (Y/N).”

“You too, Derek.”

I hung up the phone and breathed out. My life had turned a lot more complicated than I had ever imagined, and I was sure it was going to turn a lot worse. I had just started dipping my toes in the supernatural pot we were living in, something told me that there was still so much that I didn’t know. And there was one person I knew would have the answers I was seeking.

I grabbed my jacket off the coat rack and got on my motorcycle, a clear route ingrained in my brain. The night was cold, and the breeze nipped at my skin as it blew under my shirt. There was so much I had to learn, and so little time.

The drive wasn’t long, and I was still surprised I remembered the way.

The lights in the McCall house were off, but the car was in front, so I assumed Scott was home. I would have gone to Allison, but I needed to know everything, and I was sure she would try to protect me from the worst of it. Scott seemed like someone I could trust, and being at the center of everything gave him a lot more insight that I could use. I looked around the house and, remembering which room was his, found a way to climb up the side to his window. Hopefully, I didn’t encounter something I didn’t want to see.

Looking away, I knocked on his window – loud enough for him to hear, but silent enough to not alarm his mom. I clutched my jacket tighter as I waited for an answer, the wind finding me easier on higher ground. It didn’t take long for the window to slid open, revealing a very confused Scott.

“(Y/N)?” He rubbed sleep off his eyes. “What are you doing here?”

“I need to talk to you. Can I come in?”

“Sure.” He stepped aside and let me through. His room was messier than the last time I had seen it, and the bed was disheveled. On his desk, his computer was propped open, and a disarray of papers lived atop the wooden surface.

“Sorry for waking you, but this couldn’t wait.”

“Don’t worry. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he chuckled. A lopsided smile taking place on his face. “So, what’s up?”

“Tonight, I was asked by my parents to join the hunters, and I agreed. But, going into this, I’m the one that knows the least about this world. Apart from Lydia, that is. I need to know everything you know about what we are up against. I don’t think our parents would have asked Allison and me to join now unless we were facing something truly dangerous.”

“Okay, I get it. And please don’t take this the wrong way, but why are you asking me and not Allison or even Derek? It seems like they would be the natural choice to ask about this.”

“Because they would try to shield me from the most dangerous aspects of what’s happening. Hopefully, you being a third party you’ll be truly honest about the situation we are in.” My tone came out friendly, but the underlying threat was evidently laced with it.

“Alright, where do you want me to start?”

“I want to know everything. No detail left out.”

“For me, this all started last year…”

And everything I learned. Scott had been bitten by Peter Hale, Derek’s uncle, who was alpha at the time. Most of last year he spent learning about his new werewolf life, which he believed he was alone in, until Derek, who came from a long line of werewolves that resided in Beacon Hills. The very same family my aunt had murdered. When he explained that part of Derek’s history, I couldn’t help but tear up. How could he ever stand being near me when my own blood had done that to him? Ripped him from his family in such a horrifying manner. I knew she had killed people but knowing that Derek was one of the survivors made my stomach knot.

He also told me how Derek came to be the alpha, and how Peter had held the alpha title also. And how my aunt had truly died. Everyone’s stories seemed to bundle into the same mess of supernatural chaos.

“Then, Jackson asked for the bite, which Derek gave him. And the thing about the bite, you sometimes turn into something other than a werewolf due to internal issues you could say. So, he became the Kanima, which is a lizard type-creature that looks for a master as we just recently learned. His main objective is to do as his master commands, and in his case, it's killing a bunch of people. He also secretes a venom that paralyzes people, but it didn’t work on you and Lydia.” Me? “Which was really weird – Lydia, we think it has something to do with Peter biting her. But you, we’re not sure. Because there’s no indication as to why you could possibly be immune. Unless you’re not human, but that would mean that Lydia’s not human either, and that doesn’t make sense.”

“Okay, Scott. You’re rambling,” I chuckled dryly, stopping him in his track. How he talked for so long, I did not understand. I believed Stiles was the only one with that ability. “How could you know that I was immune though? I haven’t had any contact with the Kanima or this venom.”

“Well, actually, the day we were making rock crystals in lab, Isaac had left some venom on Lydia’s crystal. You weren’t supposed to taste it, but it was a surprise when nothing happened to you. Have you ever been in contact with any other supernatural beings?”

“Seeing as I didn’t even know my parents were hunters, it’s safe to assume I haven’t. But I think finding out why I am the way I am is at the bottom of the list with this Kanima going around.”

“Yeah, and your family is making it very hard to do so when they’re actively hunting us.”

“They can’t be, they run by a code, and you guys are innocent.”

“But your grandfather doesn’t care. He lifted the code. He’s on a rampage towards all supernatural creatures, us included. They’re even keeping an eye on us at school – with Gerard running it and Victoria being our new teacher.”

“But we have the upper hand in learning about the Kanima, right? I mean, if my family is actively recruiting the younger ones, it means they are up against a threat they don’t know about, and we have the bestiary translated.”

“Kind of. I just have a feeling Gerard knows a lot more than he lets on.”

“Can’t really give insight on a person I don’t know. But anything I find out I’ll be sure to pass it along,” I smiled. “I still can’t believe all of this was happening right under my nose. How did I not notice?”

“It’s easy to ignore when you don’t know it exists. If I hadn’t been in the forest that night, I would be as in the dark as you were.”

“I guess so,” I smiled. “Thank you, Scott. For your honesty, and for trusting me with this information.”

“You’re one of us now, (Y/N). We look out for our own.”

“Thank you, Scott. I’ll leave you now to hopefully catch up on some rest. I’ll see you tomorrow at school.”

“Of course, (Y/N). We’re gonna meet up with Allison in the library to talk about the Kanima. I think it’d be good for you to be there.”

“I will.” My body was outside the house, squatting in front of the window. “Again, thanks, Scott. It’s good to know I have a friend looking out for us.”

“Don’t mention it, (Y/N).” He smiled, scratching his neck trying to hide the blush that had crept to his face. “Get home safe.”

I felt uneasy the whole ride back home. I truly couldn’t fathom how Derek old even spend a second with me after everything my family had put him through. My stomach hadn’t stopped turning, and I felt like I could throw up at any second. He didn’t deserve to have to look at a person that resembled the person that had screwed up his life. The tears started streaming from my eyes before I could stop them. It didn’t feel right, and it wasn’t right.

Somehow I made it back home. I had blacked out at some point and was moving out of muscle memory. I was glad my parents had not made it back home yet — I could let tears cascade without having to hide them. Allison and I had always looked up to our aunt. To us, she presented herself as a confident, independent, and badass woman. I still remember how one Christmas Allison and I had gotten into her clothes and pretended to be her. When Kate found us, she couldn’t help but laugh at the two little irks in front of her. She questioned what we were doing and we told her we wanted to be just like her. I recalled how I told her I wanted to grow up to be her. There’s nothing I wouldn’t have done to take that back. Had I know back then what I knew now, I would have stayed as far away from her.

“This family is all types of messed up. Huh, Brody?” My dog looked up at me, a questioning glance on his face. “What am I gonna do, bub? I don’t think I’m strong enough to face him. I really don’t.”

Brody barked, leaving kisses on my cheeks — a nimble approach to getting rid of my tears. I snuggled closer to him, enjoying his comforting presence. There was no way I was going to be able to sleep well tonight.

I was standing in the middle of Derek’s family home, the only light coming from the moon peeking through the clouds. It was a cold night, and the low temperature was seeping into my bones. My whole body ached and the air smelled of soot. I felt uneasy standing there. Now knowing its history, my heart clenched tightly. I could only imagine the pain that had ensued in what I presumed was an agonizingly slow death. The tears that escaped from my eyes burned into my skin, and my ears rang with an unknown high pitch. I kneeled on the floor, and attempt to catch m breath.

“It hurts doesn’t it?” I stood up, the unknown voice startling me. “The smell is the worst part.”

“Aunt Kate.”

“The screams weren’t that bad,” she chuckled. “They died down quickly. There’s so much screaming you can do when smoke fills your lungs.”

“Stop,” I sobbed. “Please.”

“I can just imagine them thinking it was a normal afternoon, and then the fire starts. You know, wooden houses are a very good catalyst to speed up a fire.”

“Stop.”

“(Y/N), come on.” Kate was grinning, a sinister smile that would have anyone shivering. “It’s only a matter of time before you do something similar. You and I have always been the most alike — centered, strong, morally grey. It’s in your blood, baby girl. At first, you’re gonna believe you’re on their side, but soon you’ll see that they’re all bad. Sooner or later they all spill innocent blood. It’s better to get them when they’re fresh, it’s so much easier”

“How can you talk like that? These are people’s lives you are talking about.”

“It’s different, sweetheart. They’re not normal, they’re a living abomination,” she rationalized. “This is all a game of power. We can’t allow them to have the upper hand. If we let that happen, they’ll overtake us, and there is a natural order to things.”

“Is that why you murdered a whole family of innocent beings? The family of a kid you tricked to fall for you, leaving him alone to suffer!” I yelled, the loudness hurting my throat. “You tricked Derek and used him to end his line. Why?”

“A pack is only as strong as its number. The bigger they are, the stronger they are. I was just doing my job,” she grinned. “Just like you did.”

“What are you talking about? I would never do something as heartless as you have.”

“Are you sure, honey? Why don’t you walk through that door and say that again.”

I stared at her like a deer stuck in headlights. My body shook as I slowly made my way to the dark front door of the house. Her eyes burned into every step I took, the sinus eerie grin still prominent on her face. With every step, her stare edging me on forward. There was a scene to unfold behind that door, and she was eager for me to see it.

I stretched my hand towards the doorknob but flinched when I felt the burning temperature it held. Kate said nothing as she encouraged me to open the door, daring me to face whatever I had to with just her gaze. I braced myself for the feeling and clasped my hand around the knob, turning it to reveal whatever it was that she wanted me to see.

The scene in front of me was heartbreaking. We now stood in front of Derek’s apartment complex, his loft lit aflame. The smell of ash was more prominent and the heat was almost unbearable. I tried to run into the building, the need to help any survivors growing in me. But Kate held me back, a painful grip holding onto my arm.

“Let me go!” I yelled through tears. “I need to save my friends.”

“Darling, don’t you get it?” She chuckled. “They’re all gone. All thanks to you. Look at your hands, honey.”

I did as she told, and my breath hitched in my throat when I did. My clothes were drenched in blood, and in my hands, I carried a bloody knife and a lighter. “No, I would never do this.”

“You already did.” She pointed forward, fixing my sight on the bodies that laid on the floor of the lot. “And some of them were innocent, too. But in war, there are always casualties. I mean, your cousin sided with them, and look how she ended up.”

I walked around the bodies, trying to find a sign of life in any of them as a flood of tears streamed out of my ducts.

Scott.

Stiles.

Lydia.

Isaac.

Allison.

Even Boyd and Erica were there.

But I didn’t see one important person. “Where’s Derek?” My voice croaked, barely the volume of a whisper.

“Who do you think is inside the building? It’s a fitting end for him. Dying in the way he shucked have years ago,” she laughed maniacally. “At least he’ll relate to his family when he gets to the other side.

“NO!” Once again I tried to run into the building, needing to risk my ice to save his. But she stopped name in my tracks once more, her grip tightening. “Let me go, please. Just let me go, I have to save him.”

“Honey, he’s already gone,” she scoffed. “Don’t you get it, sweetheart? There are only two ways this will end — it’s either you or them. And the sooner you accept it, the easier it will be; you are just like me.”

Tag List: @hellowinterlane @lokisgoddesofpower @mersuperwholocked-lowlife @malar-region @sunshine-flower

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theresthesnitch · 3 years

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A Letter from Home

Coming in late on day 2 for this prompt, but I'm happy with how this came out. Another entry for @harryandginuary BINGO event.

O 63: “I’m having the worst day and you've just handed me an envelope with…”

Read it here on AO3!

Rated: Mature

***

The rain is incessant.

Everything is saturated with it. Weeks and weeks of staking out this post in the neverending rain, hoping that the dark wizards responsible for a string of muggle disappearances would finally, finally make a move and reveal themselves. The intelligence was good. They were sure. This was the right location. All that was left was to wait.

And wait.

And Harry was so tired of waiting in this fucking rain, and on today of all fucking days, that he was legitimately considering if being an Auror was really worth it. He couldn't just walk away without consequences. He may have saved the wizarding world from the worst dark wizard in a generation (which, the rational part of him that wasn't quite soaked through with rain reminded him was not a card he would ever play), he still didn't have the standing to just walk away from an unfavorable post. He was a junior Auror. He was only just out of his training and had only just achieved Auror status. So he was stuck with no choice but to wait.

And wait.

And what's worse is they just received word from Robards that they would have to keep waiting because the intelligence still suggested this was the place they needed to be and the targets were close and they just had to wait and I swear to Merlin I cannot wait in this fucking rain anymore.

"Auror Potter!"

Despite the fact that Harry was younger and had less training, Junior Auror Jeffrey Wilson insisted on referring to Harry in a tone and with an honorific that placed Harry at a higher level of seniority. In fact, several of the Junior Aurors referred to him this way. Harry gritted his teeth at the continued use of the title.

"It's just Harry."

"Right, sir. Sorry, sir."

"No, Jeff. Not sir. Just Harry."

"Oh. Uh, right, si- Harry."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Did you need something, Jeff?"

"Oh! Yes, sir." Harry bit back the angry retort at the use of sir again, and took the item Jeff was holding out to him. "A letter came for you."

"A letter?" Harry looked dubiously at the envelope in his hands. "I thought they were blocking our post."

"I don't know, sir. It came with our weekly rations from the Ministry, not by owl. Seems to be for you, though."

Harry looked down at the letter in his hands, and his heart warmed at the familiar script that curled and twisted into his name. “Jeff, you are officially my favorite person here.”

“Oh, thank you, sir! That’s wonderful!” Harry stifled a groan at the man’s overreaction to his offhand comment. “Uh, sir? What did I do?”

“It’s just Harry, Jeff. Not sir.” Why did he bother correcting him when it seemed like he would never learn. “It’s just that it’s my birthday-”

“Oh, happy birthday, sir!”

“-and we are stuck out here in the rain on this awful stakeout. I’m having the worst day, and you've just handed me an envelope with a letter from the love of my life. It’s just about the best present you could have given me.”

“Oh, well you’re welcome, sir.” Harry shot him a glare that caused him to stagger a step under its weight. “Uh, Harry. You’re welcome Harry.” He scurried away swiftly after that.

Harry flipped the letter over and broke the seal. He was immediately surrounded with the comforting scent of warm treacle tart, the earthy scent of a broomstick handle, and the flowery scent that had him momentarily transported back home to his bed and wrapped in Ginny’s arms again. He didn’t know how she managed to package everything he loved into this little paper box, but he was nearly overcome with longing, desire, and gratitude before even opening the letter inside.

He removed the letter from the envelope, fingers trembling slightly. He unfolded it, and began to read:

My love,

I miss you so much that I don’t even know where to start. Remember to thank Robards for allowing me to include it in the supplies. I may or may not have yelled at him that the man who saved the whole wizarding world, including Robard’s own useless ass, deserved to receive at least a letter on his birthday. I’m not even a little sorry for doing it either.

Mum wants to have a party for you as soon as you’re back, so she’s requiring everyone to keep Saturday evenings free until you get back. That resulted in a (not so) small amount of muttering about wasted weekends, but you know mum who shut them all up quickly. I only hope that she does not preemptively prepare a feast every Saturday just in case you turn up at the last minute. I don’t know if I have the heart to tell her that if you do show up without warning on a Saturday that we will not be making an appearance at a party that same night. Honestly, she may have birthed seven kids, but I am not prepared to discuss sex plans with my mother.

Hermione helped me charm this letter so that it smells like Amortentia to whoever holds it. I hope you like it, and I hope it reminds you of that weekend we spent at Grimmauld Place during Christmas of my seventh year. If it didn’t, I hope that’s what you’re thinking of now.

Did I ever tell you my Amortentia smelled like? I don’t think I got a chance, since that was during my sixth year and you were away. I smell yeast dough and cinnamon, like the cinnamon buns that mum makes on Christmas morning. I smell the crisp, clean scent of new clothes and new shoes. And finally, I smell you, which is vaguely spicy and and dark, with earthy tones to it, like your Auror robes smell like when you return from long trips. I can still remember walking into Slughorn’s classroom and nearly being thrown backwards by the smell of it. It smelled of you so strongly that I searched for you in that room before I realized that it was a potion and not the real thing.

Writing this letter to you is bringing up all kinds of memories of my seventh year, while I was at Hogwarts and you were always just an owl away. I know it was only a few years ago, but I feel like we were such different people then. In that first year after the war, we were so broken down and struggling to come to terms with the post-war world. I’m proud of us for figuring out together how to navigate this new world. After the summer we spent barely apart, I thought we could never deal with just letters and a few Hogsmede trips, but it was leagues better than the year prior.

I cannot wait for you to be home again. I’ve thought extensively on what that first day would be like when you finally return. I would feed you first, of course, because I know that you always come home from missions hungry. Something light, I think. Sandwiches, maybe, full of crisp green lettuce and juicy tomatoes. Then, I would take you upstairs, peel all of your clothes off and draw us a warm bath.

Do you remember the bath we took together after the Quidditch game against the Tornados my first year on the Harpies? We lost so miserably, and I was so worn down from the match. You took me in the bath, filled with rose oil and petals, and rubbed down all of my sore and tired muscles until I was putty in your lap. Then you made love to me slowly while the water cooled around us, and I swear that I have never orgasmed as hard as I did that night. I’ve been revisiting that memory a lot these last few weeks while you’ve been away, particularly when I’m alone in that great big bathtub, and my hand slips underneath the water and between my legs…

Did I mention I miss you? Because I do. Touching myself never feels as good as when you touch me.

I hope you come home again soon. I've been keeping busy with my training schedule during the day, but my nights are empty without you. I've been spending some nights with mum and dad or Ron and Hermione because I hate being here when you are so far away.

I miss you, and I'll be here planning for the night you come home until I see you again.

Yours eternally,

Ginny

Harry reread the letter twice more, then held the paper to his chest and breathed in deeply the scents of Ginny and home. The letter was wonderful, but it also left him feeling empty. Reading her words wasn't half as good as having her in his arms.

Harry looked up and caught movement at the house they've been watching for weeks. He waited another minute and, sure enough, it's what they've been carefully waiting and watching and hoping to find.

Wait for me, Gin, he thought as he foldrd the letter and sounded the silent alarm. I'll be home tonight.

#harry and ginuary #ginuary bingo #harry and ginuary bingo #harry potter #ginny weasley #hinny #harry and ginny #snitchwrites

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ignitification · 4 years

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Cold Flame

A brief explanation of how Rei and Shouto's evolution have to do with the return of Touya Todoroki.

tw: mentions of violence, mentions of suicide, mental illness

1.) I think these two panels tell a whole story of its own.Touya mentions how “The only thing he taught me was how to turn up the heat” referring to Endeavour. This sentence blatantly refers to the accident where Touya’s flames could not be stopped, because his strive to show his father that he is indeed someone to be proud of, has been ignited and then never shut down. Endeavour took Touya, lighted up the flames in Touya (both metaphorically, in his drive and strive to be a hero, and be his father’s hero - and literally, to bring out his fire quirk out while training), and then tossed Touya aside. Rei, on the other hand was not capable to stop him: whether this references to his training regimen, or to him chasing Endeavour, or even his dream is highly unclear - but the sole fact that Touya blames them both (because he feels like he has been bred for this goal, and Rei agreed to it, and then had not enough power to actually put an end to this nightmare) and he is partly right, because this has hurt more people than it was supposed to and that it was necessary. Rei does not know how to stop his kid from getting hurt, which is getting her hurt in return. In this panel, she looks frightened, offended, desperate to grab at Touya (who is silently and slowly slipping further away from her and her grasp) but she cannot. Now, I am not going to go further in this, because Rei not saving Touya is a partially incorrect statement, as yes, she could have done something if herself was not in a very bad place in the first place and if actually everything that happened between Endeavour and Touya did not hinder not only the relationship between Touya and Enji, but as well the one between Rei and Touya (as he see him rejecting her, because Touya knows why he had been born and probably has been influenced into thinking that his mother is weak, as she cannot fend for herself and just blindly accepted whatever Endeavour put in front of her, and not because she did not know any better, but because she did not know how).

2.) The jealousy an older sibling feels towards the newborn is completely normal, because the span of attention given to older siblings usually decreases. But here we are talking about two kids, breaded and raised to be vessels of their’s father dreams. This is an extreme scenario, where the competition between sibling is not about skills or quirk, but instead Touya sees it as a way to regain the lost affections/attention, which since Shouto has been born have never been sent towards him. And the fact that the birth of Shouto triggers in Touya’s the abysmal feeling of being a mistake, tells us that the parents did nothing to let him feel better, or to understand that it was not that way (even if arguably, Endeavour had other kids just because he wanted a perfect kid, which means that at the end of the day, he did consider Touya a mistake). And the fact that Touya was been willing to go this far, as far as to injure himself, as to emotionally condition himself into turning his flames from red to blue, is not only a sign of the mental pressure he put on himself and his emotions (always fuelled by that grating feeling of feeling less, worse, not right), but as well of the constant disappointment he felt when his father paid attention to him while scolding him, being angry at him, scowling and not making any effort. This angry, dark face is what shapes Dabi’s memories of Endeavour - an expression he wants to wipe out of his mind because it reminds him of not being the victim of shitty parenting, but of being considered a failure, worthy to burn to death, alone.

And these two.

2.5.) The ‘If only..’ hurts. Because this means not only that there was a chance that Touya did think about it, but he considered it then and there - because it was too much. Because even now, it is too much for him. Rethinking about all this moments is crucial for both Endeavour (who’s memory is definitely triggered into remembering gruelling details of his behaviour towards his children of when he was younger) and Dabi, who instead wonders whether the path he took, the decision he made all those years ago and that brought him there, was actually worth it. Because when Touya died, and Dabi was born on that hill when he was 13, he made the decision to take revenge and actually prove to his father that he is not a failure. He instead, is such a big mistake that Endeavour cannot cancel him anymore. Touya wanted desperately to be noticed for being right. Dabi wants desperately to be noticed because he is wrong, and a big mistake (which is also the result of Endeavour being his father and whatnot).

2.6.) And this. It’s the realisation that Endeavour is sowing the grief and pain of his oldest son, but it is also a realisation for Dabi: he took a decision, which he is sowing now (along with all the murders and the pain he himself inflicted). Memories which are more painful, and the fact that Dabi’s only comments on the accident is actually that it was scorching hot and that he couldn’t stop is very alarming and sad. He says nothing about how he felt. He just admits to the consequences of that gesture. He is not thinking of how much pain it was, or how sad he was, or anything else but just that this event was what made him into the person he is now, and there is no going back. He maybe thinks that things might have come out better if he actually had died that day. But he never talks of what is happening inside himself, because Dabi cannot allow himself such a weakness. And so, he feels nothing.

2.7.) These two panels (below) give me chills.They are so similar in the feeling they give up: desperation, realisation, hope, terrifying anger and sadness, elatedness in knowing that there is something to hang off, that maybe now the right moment has come. And it’s a sort of revival, a feeling brewing for so long and finally exploding in the hate, and the will to drag his father down in the mud with him.

3.) Rei's involvement, in Touya’s upbringing is a problematic topic for two reasons: she feels guilty about it, and her mental state which has been deteriorated by her family and her husband, does not allow her to even look for an excuse, as Endeavour did. Instead, Rei has been driven to a point where she just wants to let go.

I think that here, Rei, plays a very big role: she is stuck between a husband she cannot take on by herself, and a child who wants nothing to do with her because of her actions (which are inherently caused by Endeavour). And her mental health further deteriorates. Rei looks distraught. I would say even fatigued, and weighted down by everything that is happening, and how she cannot and does not want to deal with it.

In the hospital room, in Chapter 300, when she comes back and tells Endeavour that he is not the only to have suffered, she is not only referring to Touya, but to herself as well. I think it is important to note how the change happened. For both Shouto and Rei, Touya is a central button: after the accident, things escalated so much for Rei that she ended up in the hospital, Endeavour instead got the full time he wanted with Shouto (reversing his negative feelings, guilt, remorse and strive for his broken dream) into training.

And the fact that in this moment, she chooses to let Touya go (metaphorically) is not only heartbreaking, but also reflects the anger in Endeavour’’s eyes who’s thinking line has to go along the lines of: ffs, I have to do everything around here (which I do not want to sound rude, comes off as misogynist, but as well disrespectful and just right arrogant). However, the fact that Rei here is weak, does not define her character and instead Touya coming back is exactly what she needs to step on her feet again, and transform this

into ‘I’m here now’ and I’m going to solve this situation. Because Rei is tired of the situation, of Endeavour and wallowing in Endeavour’s shadow. It is time for her to actually intervene like she should have done years ago, and save her kid (or at least, give Touya a forgiveness sort of goodbye, and maybe tell him that notwithstanding their mistakes, and the fact that he was born because of a Quirk Marriage, Touya was still loved).

4.) But then, Shouto's has always been aware of how bad the situation in his own home is. Him protecting his mom is greatly telling in this sense: Shouto, despite being as traumatised by his father’s behaviour as Natsuo and Fuyumi (who are older than him, and are also crying in this panel - because Endeavour is a very tall, and build man and he is the Head of the family, which is also probably why they know what is going on, and no matter how many times this happened, if one or twenty but there is no excuse for Endeavour scaring his children so much they feel the need to retract in themselves (as shown by Fuyumi’s position on the floor, and Natsuo trying to be shielded by his bigger sister) and to cry as silently as possible with the hope that the angry person does not notice them. Shouto, on the other hand, while also crying actually stands up to his father (as he continued doing til today) and despite the shouts, angry stare and all the burden that comes with parent’s argument, he still tries to protect his mother, because he knows that the dominance of Endeavour’ character is too much for Rei to take. Because Rei is tired. Look at her face. Look at her eyes and her general exhaustion. The panel of point 3 stands to identify that she cannot take anymore. And instead, Shouto plays the bigger person. Notwithstanding all the obstacles he has overcome (the hellish training manu, his father’s expectations, the burden left by Touya’s disappearance, his father’s ego and anger, his mum burning him, Rei’s hospitalisation, the scattered relationship with his siblings, his empty childhood), Shouto stands tall and proud, knowing what he has to do.

I think that Shouto’s being the Hero of his own family, is a very important ‘part’ of not only the story, but as well for Shouto, who is evolving in character and setting the foundations for an individual whose past prejudices his future, and he has to resolve the plethora of things that he carries involuntarily with him, before possibly saying that he has achieved something, and that he became a Hero. I like how Horikoshi pointed slightly out that this whole drama, even if the protagonists are Touya and Endeavour, is not only the shaping path of Shouto, but as well his stepping stone for being a real hero (through the pits of fire which once again he has to do, in order to let go of the past, and instead his future, depicted in fire and ice).

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bloededhoine · 3 years

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I notice a lot of fans don't really bring up how Roche uses Ves for her "feminine qualities (for lack of a better word)." I hate that in Witcher 2 he sends her to Loredo dressed as a prostitute and it is implied she does this sort of thing regularly? I do know that Roche cares for her but sometimes his behavior needs a reprimand. Do you have any thoughts on this?

i absolutely love questions like this because they really make me think. plus, this is one of the rare posts that's a system special! give @claire-verlaine your love. she's simply amazing.

first things first, spoiler warning for chapter 2 of roche's path in w2 and big trigger warning for discussions of sex work, sex trafficking, rape, war, unequal power dynamics, and brief mentions of underage prostitution. also this is really fucking long. sorry.

let's start with the geekiness: prostitution as a cover for espionage has a long and awesome, albeit poorly documented, history. it was really big with the confederacy (read: racists) during american civil war, and while their motives were undoubtedly awful, these spies were simply amazing. rose o'neal greenhow was recognized by the confederate president for her role in their victory at the first battle of bull run. belle boyd seduced a union (read: racists but more covert) general, found out the date and location of the next war council, drilled a hole in the floor in the meeting room, and sat in the crawl space and took notes of the entire thing.

although there were many successful female union spies, most of them didn't use sex. there's no clear consensus on why this was, but it's entirely possible that such enlightened progressives figured sex work to be demeaning. clearly, union men were avid consumers, but also thought women didn't know any better and needed to be protected from men who would exploit them. meanwhile, these awful southern racists had no problem with "exploiting" women, but inadvertently granted them a shit ton of political agency and prestige!

this all brings us to our next point, which is that nothing is inherently wrong with sex work, although it does put workers in incredibly vulnerable positions. for every spy that successfully used prostitution as a cover, there were likely many others that failed. without even considering the consequences of being discovered as an enemy spy, sex trafficking was (and continues to be) a very real risk for anyone in that situation*.

nearly the whole history of sex work legislation shows how little people, especially upper class men, understand it. the spies in the civil war were both lucky and unlucky in that they operated quite independently. they didn't need to take orders from someone who was entirely unqualified to give them, but they also had no safety net in case something went wrong. if belle boyd so much as sneezed while eavesdropping, there would be almost no chance she'd get back home alive.

however dangerous this job was, most lady spies during the civil war began spying before they were even recruited by the army. these women weren't doing it on anyone's orders, they were doing it because they had the skills and believed in the cause (remember that in this case that belief was not an admirable quality).

rose o'neal's (possible) handler, thomas jordan, had a huge network of spies, and all evidence points to him giving her way more independence than usual. thomas jordan wasn't who rose went to for orders, he was who she submitted her reports to. in my opinion, the sex she had to obtain this information was consensual.

ves' scenario is obviously different in regard to her chain of command. she is going into sexual situations under the direct orders of a (male) commanding officer. just writing this has the alarm bells going off in my head. what good is having someone to get you out of a dangerous situation when they were the one to put you in that situation in the first place? but this is where we get to what's special about roche. he is, as they say, not like other girls.

it's no secret how much roche loves his team. when the blue stripes are killed he says that everything he loved died. if ves dies in an eye for an eye he is absolutely devastated. the blue stripes aren't just roche's subordinates, they're his family. when you see the stripes outside of battle the camaraderie is even clearer: they fist fight their commander and each other to blow off steam, they play games, have contests, etc. ves' knowledge of roche's dark and troubled past is more proof that the trust goes both ways.

roche would never put his family in an unnecessarily dangerous situation, nor would he have them do something he personally wouldn't do. even if it's just from a morality perspective (like double crossing radovid for the man that had foltest killed), roche goes it alone.

so, we know roche is a (compratively) good guy. but we also know that intention, often, doesn't mean shit. i mentioned earlier how most of the people making decisions for sex workers have little to no idea of what they are doing. it doesn't help that their intentions are all about controlling (mostly) women and getting rich in the process, but even the best meaning legislator could unknowingly do a lot of damage. roche is way more involved in ves' missions than thomas jordan was in rose o'neal's, but i think that's a good thing.

as i'm sure you lovely witcher connoisseurs know, roche is a literal whoreson. he is very aware of what goes on in brothels, and, depending on how you read into his relationship with foltest, what it's like to not really be able to say no. if anything, roche's involvement here is a good thing, since he has years of first hand experience with exactly what ves is going through, but without the safety net of an elite team that loves him and are frighteningly good soldiers.

plus, ves is far more capable than your average soldier, even in a blue stripes-calibre group. she's an absolute badass. most women who used prostitution as a cover for spying went into it with no combat or espionage training whatsoever. they knew how to be personable, how to be seductive, and how to use men's biases to get them to spill all their secrets. clearly, this knowledge served them well, but what about the occasions when it didn't? they were not fighters. at all. ves has both the "feminine charms" and the terrifying combat skills. of course, these scenarios usually have her acting as a spy, not an assassin, so those skills are more of a failsafe, but it's still very important to her own safety and the morality of the whole situation.

TL;DR

to sum up, anon, i do agree with (what i assume to be) your reasoning, but not the conclusion you came to. if someone told me an older male superior was having a younger female subordinate act as a prostitute to gain intel during a time of war, i'd be ready to start cutting off dicks.

but that's not the whole story. the older male superior has a personal background in (possibly) coerced and underaged sex work. the younger female subordinate is a highly skilled soldier, and second in command of an elite unit. both of them have a very close familial relationship developed over several years. a similar relationship exists between the the other members of the unit in their command. personally, i think those factors make this a completely new situation.

that being said, i'm certain that my beliefs aren't the only ones out there. as long as we can all agree that the base scenario is unequivocally wrong, there should be absolutely no reason to (civilly) not discuss whether or not the special circumstances make it okay.

* i'll take this as an opportunity to say that the enforcement of anti-sex work laws force sex workers to be either a criminal, a victim, or dead. these laws are the problem, not the solution. the solution would be supporting unions for sex workers, giving them the same legal protections given to any other worker, and treating them like humans, not statistics.

#anon #sorry this is so long #i got carried away #roche tag #ves tag #shaun the sheep talks to humans #also anon you get the honourable award for most interesting ask ever #i absolutely loved it

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tsarisfanfiction · 3 years

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Care taking ideas:

Person A steadying Person B as they try to stand/walk

A: Alan B: Scott.

Tumble

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Hurt/Comfort/Family Characters: Alan, Scott

I feel like I’ve written a lot of Scott&Alan recently, but any excuse to have a little brother looking after Scott is a good one in my books :D

Fluffy Prompt Generator

Alan was the youngest. He hated it when it was pointed out, because normally when his age came into things it was accompanied by the words ‘too young’. He hated it because it meant his brothers tried to sugar-coat anything they could get away with, so he could keep his ‘childhood’ just a little while longer.

He wasn’t so young anymore that he didn’t realise certain older brothers had lost their childhood way younger than the age he was now. (He was still too young to realise that was why they were so insistent on his).

Smother hens masquerading as older brothers, a grand total of up to four, depending on how much of a Responsible Big Brother Gordon felt like being, as opposed to the Fun Big Brother Alan much preferred him as, meant that he was quite successfully shielded from a lot of things. Not so much that he wasn’t vaguely aware of them, but there were sights he didn’t see.

Being the only brother on the island when Scott tripped and fell down the stairs from the den to the kitchen in hunt of something edible while Thunderbird One refuelled between busy missions (which Alan was not involved in, because none of them needed Thunderbird Three and once again his eldest brothers were brandishing his slipping homework in front of him and ordering him to pick up the slack or be grounded until the summer holidays), Alan found himself witness to one such occasion he was normally kept far away from.

The fact that Scott didn’t immediately pick himself up and keep going had Alan ignoring the homework - and the alarm John had tagged on him for leaving the table without authorisation, because yes they had decided to be that strict about it today - and running for the unmoving form of his biggest brother.

“Scott?”

The groan he got promised consciousness, at least, even if that made it even more worrying that Scott wasn’t moving.

“Scott!” He leaned over him, tapping his cheek and watching in relief as blue eyes blinked open.

“Urgh,” his brother mumbled, clearly taking a moment to register where he was and what had happened. “Alan?”

“Where are you hurt?” He had to be, if he wasn’t already up and pretending it hadn’t happened. Scott blinked at him.

“I’m not hurt,” he said. Denied. Alan might not be an adult, but he knew Scott well enough to know there was no way he’d still be lying on the floor if he wasn’t hurt. He sent his best disbelieving glare at his brother.

“Sure you’re not,” he retorted when Scott didn’t fess up. “Tell me or I’m calling John.”

John, who was no doubt gearing up to berate him for abandoning his homework the moment he got a moment to spare. It wouldn’t be long before his second eldest brother piped up anyway.

“Alan-” Scott started, finally starting to shift and getting his hands beneath him in a way that had Alan’s eyes narrowing. Scott didn’t normally need to push himself up with his hands; none of them did. They were all too in-shape for that.

He tapped at his wrist. “Last chance, Scott.” Grandma was also in the house, and as soon as he called John, he’d be calling for her, too.

Scott stopped his denial, eyes honing in on the comm as though it was a threat. Well, that wasn’t wrong. Another moment of silence was all it took for Alan to bring up the link to Thunderbird Five and-

“My ankle,” Scott admitted. First aid training kicked in and Alan instantly moved to assess it. His brother hadn’t specified which one, but now he knew what he was looking for he could see in Scott’s movements that the left was being favoured.

“Let me see,” he insisted, batting Scott’s hands away as his brother resignedly stayed sat down. A gentle probe had Scott obviously fighting to recoil, and Alan rolled his eyes. “I don’t think you’re going back out on that rescue, bro,” he said.

“It’s fine,” Scott told him. “Some ice and it’ll be good as new.”

Who he thought he was fooling with that, Alan had no idea. It certainly wasn’t him.

“I’m getting a scanner and we’ll see,” he said. “But I’m not leaving you at the bottom of the stairs for Grandma to trip over. Come on.”

That time, Scott did recoil, some stupid big brother pride rebelling against the idea of being helped to stand by his youngest brother, but he was cornered against the stairs and with an eyeroll, Alan caught his arms.

“Up you get,” he said, shifting until he had Scott’s left arm across his shoulders and his own arm around his back.

“I can stand by myself,” his brother grumbled, but it seemed that Alan having hold of him was enough to stop him trying to get away. Either that, or his ankle was a lot more painful than he was letting on.

It wouldn’t surprise Alan if that was the case.

“Nope.” It took some effort, especially with the height difference, but he managed to get his brother to his feet. Now, where to take him? The breakfast stools dotted around were perfectly shaped for Scott to simply slip off the moment his back was turned, so they were out, but the kitchen wasn’t particularly conducive for lounging around-

Lounging.

He eyed the loungers by the pool. Thunderbird One wasn’t going to be launching any time soon - Alan was under no illusions about being allowed to take Scott’s place - and if Scott was laying down... It might just take him an extra few seconds to get up.

Plus, it would elevate the ankle a little.

“This way,” he coaxed, bracing himself as Scott stumbled, clearly caught out at the change of direction.

“Where are we going?” his brother asked, confusion lacing his voice as Alan led him towards the pool.

“Mind the step,” Alan answered, helping him down to the patio. “You need to put that ankle up.”

He saw the moment clarity struck. Scott attempting to dig his heels in had something to do with that, but with one ankle out of action and Alan still directing forwards motion, he had little choice but to follow.

Sometimes, Alan appreciated John’s love of simple physics.

“Sit,” he ordered, nudging him down onto the nearest lounger and scooping his brother’s legs up to make sure he settled on it properly. “And stay, or I’ll get Grandma.”

That close to the kitchen, it was a threat.

Whether it was enough of a threat to get Scott to obey, however, remained to be seen.

The answer was apparently yes, as Alan returned from his dash to the infirmary - pausing to update John out of Scott’s earshot, who rolled his eyes and obligingly turned off the ‘Alan do your homework’ alarm at his valid reason for not doing it right then - to find Scott was still there.

Scott was also, somehow, asleep, as though the act of laying down on a lounger was the last push he’d needed to get some rest. Alan wondered if he’d have fallen down the stairs if he’d slept a little earlier.

Probably not.

Careful not to disturb him, he ran the scan.

Just a sprain. To be safe, he scanned his head, too - all clear; no concussion, just plain exhaustion. He could let Scott sleep a while longer before summoning Grandma to deal with the ankle.

Satisfied, he retreated long enough to snatch his homework before relocating next to his brother to get on with it. And if his new location meant he got to enjoy some peaceful time in the sun with a sleeping brother, well, that was just a bonus.

#thunderbirds are go #thunderbirds are go fanfiction #tsari writes fanfiction #scott tracy #alan tracy #thunderfluff #drabbles #janetm74 #tumble

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creative-hanyou-girl · 4 years

Text

The Witch’s Daughter (Pt.2)

Now with a cover!!!!

Disclaimer: I do not own InuYasha/Yahahime or any of its characters. All InuYasha characters belong to Rumiko Takahashi, Sunrise, and Viz media.

Genre: Family/Romance/Angst

Rated: Teen (for some cussing and depictions of violence)

A/N: First off, I want to give a big fat ��Thank You” to all of you guys who left likes and reviews and for reblogging the 1st chapter of The Witch’s Daughter! I am so sorry for the long wait. A lot of stuff happened over the holidays and beyond that, and college has kept me pretty busy too. I hope you guys enjoy this chapter, and I’ll try to be quicker with the next one!!!

I should also say that while Touga holds both these titles in the story, in this universe, the title of Emperor is not the same as the title of Inu no Taisho.

Emperor: Ruler over the people, responsible for governing the country; Sesshomaru to be successor.

Inu no Taisho: Commander and General of all armed forces, literally translating to “Great Dog General”; InuYasha to be successor.

(trust me, knowing the difference is important.)

Chapter One

FF.Net

With that said, on with Chapter Two!

Chapter Two

Swinging the sword in his grip at a downward angle, Lord and General InuYasha huffed in satisfaction. His sparring partner and friend, Miroku, had his own weapon knocked out of his hands as a result of the half dog-demon’s offensive maneuver, the force of the technique even toppling the human man over to land on his butt.

Scenting the approaching threat from behind, InuYasha whirled around smoothly, his blade clashing thunderously with the sword that was about to come down on him.

This time facing off against his rival and soldier, a wolf-demon named Kouga, the two demons went at each other fiercely, weapons clashing and clanging loudly and violently at speeds that’d be impossible for a human to achieve no matter how skilled a swordsman they were. Sparks flew as the two sparring men met each other’s attacks with vigour.

Miroku, seeing an opening, grabbed his own sword and went to attack the young dog-eared general. Rushing at his seemingly unsuspecting target, Miroku’s blue eyes widened in alarm when InuYasha ducked, hunching his broad shoulders and back forward to avoid Kouga’s blade coming at him from the side. The human soldier couldn’t stop himself fast enough, resulting in him barreling atop his Lord’s back, only for said Lord to adjust his movements in order to have Miroku’s slightly smaller frame roll over the curve of his spine.

Kouga had no time to react before his fellow soldier rammed into his stomach, losing his grip on his own sword as both he and Miroku toppled over in a heap not too gently on the marble floor.

The two soldiers looked up at their General as he aimed his trusty blade, the Tessaiga, to be level with their eyes.

InuYasha smirked triumphantly down at his fallen comrades, his golden amber eyes dancing with victory, before swiftly shelving Tessaiga in its sheath and offering a clawed hand out to Miroku.

Grinning and shaking his head, the human male accepted, the two friends collapsing hands as the demon lord pulled the dark-haired man up before collapsing his shoulder good-naturedly.

Kouga grouchily climbed to his own feet once Miroku was off him, crossing his arms as he scowled at his rival, “How the Hell do you always manage to one-up us every time, dog-turd? Call me crazy, but I’d think you were playin’ dirty!”

InuYasha glared right back, “There ain’t no such thing as playing dirty on the battlefield, wolf-boy. You know that as well as I do; when you're out there facing a shit-ton of soldiers tryin’ ta lop your head off, ya don’t got the luxury of playin’ fair!”

“Yeah well the wolf tribes know to fight with honor, unlike you and your sad excuse of an army, General,” Kouga retorted, emphasizing the word ‘general’ in a demeaning, sarcastic tone.

The aforementioned general growled, shoving his snarling face into Kouga’s, his large, clawed hand cracking as he stretched the tendons in a threatening gesture.

He and Kouga had never gotten along ever since the wolf-demon was enlisted to serve under the Inu no Taisho’s armed forces, only to be surprised and furious when he found that the Emperor’s youngest son, a half-breed, had already taken charge of many of the imperial forces, as he was set to succeed his father in becoming the next Inu no Taisho. Under that position, he’d serve under the next Emperor, his brother, as the commander of all of their Empire’s armed forces, leading himself and his men into the battlefields while the Emperor governs the rest of the country.

Kouga was angered to be placed in one of InuYasha’s troops three years ago when he enlisted to be under the command of the current Inu no Taisho and Emperor, Touga.

He made it very clear to InuYasha from the get-go that he was displeased to be bossed around by an ‘honorless half-bred mutt’, though he knew better than to say as such around the Emperor and his family.

That didn’t stop the wolf-demon from expressing his disdain for his general with his fellow soldiers, many of whom also shared his bias, and to InuYasha himself when the imperial family wasn’t around.

The feelings were mutual, as InuYasha hated the wolf’s stench and despised his high and mighty attitude. But while the half-demon lord loathed to admit it, as his father had pointed out when the two of them were overseeing recruit training, Kouga was a strong and resilient fighter, quick on his feet and great at tracking scents from miles away.

“Almost as good as you,” his father had commented.

Almost.

Keh!

At the end of the day, InuYasha knew he’d be a fool not to enlist the canine demon just because Kouga held a prejudice against him.

Didn’t mean he had to like it though.

“Well we ain’t in the wolf tribes now, are we ya scrawny wolf!” InuYasha exclaimed back in the present.

The two canine demons continued to snarl and bark back-and-forth, until a previously forgotten Miroku shoved his way in-between the two feuding men, breaking them up after some struggle as his human body was much weaker compared to those of his demonic comrades.

“I believe it’d be wise to step away from each other for a while. We did just return from a five-month trip in the North, after all. Perhaps now’s the time to relax and take a breather after all our hard work, do you not agree?” the human male reasoned, his tone soothing and placating.

Kouga continued to glare as he looked between the two human and half-demon men, before huffing haughtily and stomping out of the in-door combat training room.

InuYasha watched him go before snorting and going over where he stashed his red cloak and armor, stepping next to the large water basin to wash his face of the sweat and grime he’d accumulated from the return journey and the sparring match that he had just won. All the while, Miroku walked along with him, washing his face and grabbing his own gear.

As the two friends strapped back on their heavy armor over their under garments, Miroku looked over at his companion.

“You know Kouga says that stuff at this point just to get a rise out of you, right?” he asked, locking the straps for his armor to his right arm.

“Pfft. Whatever, not like it matters,” the general mumbled, clipping on his ragged and torn up cape.

“Just take a break from him and other troops, InuYasha. Use this time to spend with your family for at least a few hours! Nobody will blame you, and who knows when we’ll be sent out to fight more battles again.”

“Ain’t that simple, Miro. I ain’t no ordinary, run-of-the-mill soldier like you; I’m gonna have to become the Inu no Taisho after my father. I have ta be on my toes all. The damn. Time. Add to the fact that I’m a half-demon, and that makes my job ten times more difficult since more and more people are questioning my authority and capability to lead them into battle. I don’t got time for a break, not yet anyways,” InuYasha argued, a hint of bitterness seeping into his tone.

It had become such a sore spot for him, being a half-breed. A mutt. When he was young, while there might’ve been a whisper here and a distrustful glare there, InuYasha had been fortunate to not have had to face too much discrimination for his mixed blood, but he now knew that was due to his status in the royal family. It was only when he snuck out at age thirteen in commoner clothing that he experienced first-hand how half-demons are really treated by the outside world when they have no status of nobility or royalty.

It was horrible; he returned home hiding the bruises and scars under his clothes before they healed by themselves. He never told either of his parents.

The incident still didn’t stop him from sneaking out to explore, though.

And then he was announced to be the next Great Dog General, the Inu no Taisho, after his father when he turned sixteen, and that news shocked and appalled many in the Emperor’s court and beyond that. Everyone had expected, nay, hoped that Touga would’ve named his eldest, pure demon son Sesshomaru as both the future Emperor and Inu no Taisho, seeing as Touga himself held both titles. No one had anticipated that his younger, impure half-bred son would’ve been named as Touga’s successor to anything!

If he was being honest, InuYasha was shocked too, but he didn’t want the role.

He’d never told his family, since he knew it’d hurt them, but the then teenage InuYasha had always hoped for a life outside of the castle walls. Even after the incident that happened when he was thirteen, the half dog-demon still wanted to go out in the world where nobody knew who he was, and explore with no obligations or responsibilities to anyone. The brief experience with the outside world when he was thirteen had opened his eyes to how fake court-life truly was, and he hated it.

Still, seeing everybody who didn’t even know him, already doubting and questioning his capabilities in such a rigorous, brutal, and powerful position just on the basis of him being a half-demon motivated him to take up the mantle he had previously tried to avoid.

He’d prove to them, all of them, that he was the man for the job, and that his mixed blood didn’t matter.

That was his motivation that still drove him even now.

“Enough about that. Whatta ‘bout you? S’not like your working to become General; Why dontcha go see Sango and the kids. Bet they’ve been missing their old man,” Present InuYasha said, intentionally driving the conversation away from himself.

Miroku suddenly grinned dreamily at the mention of his wife and kids, and InuYasha still couldn’t believe this was the same perverted seventeen-year-old soldier he’d met all those years ago.

They’d met when Miroku joined InuYasha when he had taken charge of overseeing his first troop of soldiers. When he wasn’t giving them orders or training them, InuYasha kept his distance from everyone in his troop as much as possible, just as everyone had kept their distance from him.

That all changed when Miroku approached him one night when they were traveling along the Eastern borders. The human had grinned mischievously, but no less kindly with a jug of sake and had asked to talk with him.

“Just want to get to know our fearless new general, is all,” is what he had said.

From there, their friendship grew, though it took months for InuYasha to start warming up to Miroku. It didn’t help either that the young soldier had the bad habit of rubbing up along any pretty woman’s ass and asking them to “bare his children” for him, whether the woman was human or demon.

And then Miroku met Sango, a female soldier and the only woman who knew how to put him in his place. From that moment on, the perverted soldier only had eyes for the no-nonsense woman, and InuYasha watched as his two only friends grew closer and closer for the next few years, eventually getting married and having a shit-ton of kids.

Now they were awaiting baby number...eleven? Twelve? The half-demon had honestly lost count. All he knew was that they were expecting yet again, and Sango was pissed not being allowed into the troops again until the pup was born.

The kids adored InuYasha, or ‘Uncle Inu’ as the little ones and even the oldest three, Kin’u, Gyokuto, and Hisui, liked to call him, and InuYasha, in turn, adored them all right back.

An old, but familiar lump settled in his throat.

He was happy for his friends. He really was, but InuYasha couldn’t help the feeling of jealousy and longing to swell up to the surface.

He wanted what they had.

He wanted love.

He wanted children.

But he’d never have any of it.

Because he was a half-breed, and half-breeds, royalty or not, never find love, real love, let alone have children.

“My Lord! My Lord InuYasha!!!” cried the familiar, but no less annoying voice of his brother’s servant, Jaken.

The aforementioned lord sighed in aggravation as both he and Miroku turned at the squawking cry, just in time to see the small imp-demon come barreling in only to trip over himself in his haste.

“Lord InuYasha! It is important, your father needs to speak with you at this very moment! It is urgent!!!” Jaken continued on.

Both half-demon and human arched their brows in confusion, exchanging concerned looks.

“You go on back to your family, Miroku. I’ll deal with this,” InuYasha said.

“You sure?” Miroku asked, still concerned.

InuYasha simply nodded.

With that, the future Inu no Taisho with his armor fully on once more, turned and followed the panicky little demon out of the training room without another word.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Making their way through the halls leading to the throne room, InuYasha contemplated the matter Jaken had frantically informed him his father wanted to discuss.

It wasn’t unusual for Jaken to overreact over certain matters, but the half-demon had never seen the servant as panicky as he was at that moment, even during the times he’d displeased Sesshomaru.

When he first followed after the imp-demon to the throne room where his family was stationed, the young general had briefly feared it was another marriage proposition his father had arranged for him. There had been quite a few of those over the years, all of which didn’t work out as they should have. It wasn’t necessarily that all the women the Emperor picked for him were bad choices (although there were some who were stuck-up bitches who only wanted him for the rise in status and wealth), but none of them ever seemed to...click, with him.

He could never explain it, but being with them just felt wrong.

Like he was betraying someone by doing so.

Someone who haunted him in his dreams the few times he slept, but could never identify by face or scent.

Someone he didn’t know.

Or perhaps….someone he didn’t remember.

As they got closer to their destination however, the less InuYasha began to believe the situation to be about something as trivial as matrimony. Jaken wouldn’t be reacting the way he was if it was simply about him being offered the hand of a noble woman.

The more he thought about it, the more apprehension and dread he felt in the pit of his stomach at the unknown situation that awaited him.

Stopping in front of the sliding doors separating him from the unknown, InuYasha glanced down at Jaken, who bowed in understanding at staying put outside the room. The demon lord and general huffed and slid the doors open, expecting but unprepared for the worst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“How’s that feel, sweetheart? Is it too tight?” Kagome asked gently, wrapping the young girl’s injured arm in gauze.

Her silent patient nodded hesitantly, staring at the pretty woman treating her wound and glancing at the silent quarter-demon girl who’d saved her.

Kagome finished wrapping her up and patted the child assuringly on her back, “You're going to be just fine, little one. Now why don’t you take one of the beddings we have here and get some rest, hmm? In the morning, Moroha and I will take you back home, okay?”

The little girl hesitated for just a moment.

“...Th-Thank y-you.” she stuttered in a soft voice, averting her brown eyes shyly when the mother and daughter pair blinked in surprise.

The experienced spell-caster smiled pleasantly, nodding her head.

“You are very welcome, my dear. That’s what we’re here for, and I’m glad that you are okay.”

The child blushed, then glanced at the teenage girl still staring at her in shock, before bowing towards the teen in gratitude, which only served to shock the poor quarter-demon even more.

“...And th-thank you, too. F-for rescuing me from th-those big men,” the human girl said, keeping her upper body lowered in a bow of respect.

Moroha was beyond surprised; She was flabbergasted. Never before had anybody who wasn’t her mother thank her, much less genuinely. She was more used to people belittling and repaying her and her mother’s kindness with cruel words and actions. Yet, here this young human child was, wholeheartedly and genuinely showing them, showing her, gratitude for saving and treating her, knowing or at least suspecting very well who they were, what they were.

The young spell-caster blushed, flustered, “K-Keh! It wasn’t a big deal; I was just passing through!” she explained, defensive.

“Yes...just passing through.”

Moroha froze at the deadly calm tone. Cringing, the teen glanced slowly at her mother, flinching at the angered glare the older woman was shooting her.

Oh crap.

Turning back towards her slightly confused patient, Kagome adapted a cheery smile and clapping her hands together.

“Well, I believe that’s enough for now! Why don’t you go and get some rest, dear, and then we’ll get up bright and early tomorrow to take you home! That sound good?” the woman asked, her tone motherly and upbeat.

The girl nodded, getting up and taking a few steps towards one of the beddings close by. Before she got there though, the young brunette turned her head to look back at her temporary caretakers.

“Miss Pretty Lady, Miss Demon Lady? Really, thank you for saving me. I was really scared,” the child thanked them for the hundredth time, her words more confident and assured.

Moroha’s eyebrow twitched in annoyance, “Demon Lady?”

“Hey kid! We have names!” the spell-casting quarter-demon exclaimed, aggravated.

“Moroha!” Kagome scolded, her message clear.

Don’t dig yourself deeper into the hole you're already in, missy.

Understanding the silent threat, said ‘missy’ gulped and shut her mouth, not daring to utter another word that could get her in even more trouble than she already was.

Huffing, Kagome once again smiled kindly towards the younger girl.

“Please excuse her, she can be a bit brash. She’s right though; we haven’t introduced ourselves yet, have we? My name’s Kagome Higurashi, and that troublemaker over there is my daughter, Moroha. What is your name?” she asked.

The girl, again, hesitated. Only for a split second, though, as she soon opened her mouth and answered.

“My name is Rin.”

Kagome nodded, standing up and leading her previously unnamed charge over to the bedding, a gentle hand on the small of the brunette girl’s back.

“Well Rin, it's late, and you must be exhausted, so go to sleep and we’ll get you up in the morning. I’m certain your family misses you terribly and won’t be too pleased if you come back to them dead-on-your-feet tired, now will they?”

Rin shook her head as Kagome tucked her in. Unsurprisingly, the young girl was out within seconds, the craziness from the day catching up to her.

Once she was sure her charge was fast asleep, the spell-caster turned back to her nervous daughter, arms on her hips as she frowned at the teenager.

“Mama, I-”

Kagome put a hand up, abruptly cutting off her child’s excuse before it could begin, “Come with me over here. Now.”

Moroha shivered at the serious, deadpanned tone. Her mother only used that tone when she was about to give her a tongue-lashing. No doubt about it, she was in trouble.

Deep trouble.

The mother and daughter pair strode over towards the treeline that surrounded their camp. It was far enough away to where they could talk in private and not disturb their sleeping guest, but close enough so that they could still see and check in on the child if any danger invaded their camp.

Sighing and rubbing her temples, Kagome started, “Moroha, what were you thinking! I told you to not go any farther than you absolutely had to to deliver that medicine, and then you come back with bruises and scratches, blood on your clothes, and an injured child in your arms, telling me there was a mob riot in the village!? And that you used magic to eviscerate a demon’s arm!? Do you know what kind of danger you put yourself in!?”

Moroha winced, trying to keep the bruises on her neck hidden from her mother’s sight. When she had burst through the treeline back into their camp, carrying Rin who’s arm wound was still sluggishly bleeding out onto her and her clothes, her mother took one look at the injured child and sprang into action, having to clean and then stitch up the wound before it could get infected. So focused on ensuring the child be taken care of, Kagome had only noticed in passing the light bruises and few scrapes on her own child’s arms and legs, but they were superficial and were already healing, so Kagome and Moroha paid them no mind. Not when they had a much more serious, much more human injury, to be taken care of.

The demon girl was grateful that Kagome had been more focused on the human child as soon as she saw her. Otherwise, the dark, yellow and purple bruises on her neck from where the demon had a tight hold on her would have instantly been spotted on the older woman’s ‘Mom Radar’, as she liked to call it.

Moroha hadn’t wanted to cause her mother any more worry, so as soon as she was sure Kagome was too preoccupied with the human child to pay any mind to her, Moroha had taken the scarf she wore around her neck and readjusted it to hide the bruises that were still there. With how tight the demon had clutched onto her, the bruises were quite nasty looking, and would take longer for her demonic healing to get rid of them completely.

Of course, this act of secrecy equated to not telling her mother exactly why she’d had to eviscerate that demon’s arm with her magic. She still wasn’t so sure telling the truth about that was a good idea, but she had to say something!

“He gave me no choice, Mama! I had to use magic!” the teen defended, hoping her mother wouldn’t press the issue from there.

“And why was that, Moroha? What did he do to make you blow your cover and the cloaking spell to destroy his arm using magic?”

And of course, her mother pushed the issue.

“Uh…” was all that came out of her mouth, her mind running double-time to come up with a valid, but less severe explanation than what had actually happened.

Unfortunately, the world seemed to be out to get her that day. While Moroha fumbled, trying to make up a random excuse, Kagome had finally noticed the unusual way her daughter’s red scarf covered the quarter-demon’s neck, and had reached her hands out to remove the scarf.

“Wait! Mama, don’t-” Moroha panicked once she felt her mother’s hands moving the scarf.

“Moroha!!! What on Earth happened to your neck!?”

Too late.

Moroha winced when Kagome gently poked and prodded the darkened, abnormally large fingerprint marks on her neck. They weren’t as sore as they were hours ago, telling the inexperienced spell-caster that the healing process was already underway, but with how dark and severe the bruises were, it’d take longer for the bruises to completely vanish from her skin.

Prying her mother’s hands away from her injured flesh, Moroha cringed even more at the panicked expression, as well as the unshed tears, that she could see in her eyes and face.

She hated making her mama look like that.

“These were why I had to use magic; he had me by the neck,” Moroha swallowed, figuring there was no point in lying or trying to come up with another excuse anymore.

The older magic-user stared at the marks that dared to mar her baby’s lightly tanned skin before pulling the demon girl tightly into her arms, embracing her most precious treasure like a life-line, her anger completely forgotten.

Surprised at first, Moroha quickly regained her composure and wrapped her arms around her mother’s waist, embracing her just as tightly as the severity and exhaustion from the day finally caught up with her, and she buried her head into her mother’s shoulder as her small frame shook from her emotional turmoil.

For the first time in a long while, Moroha was desperate for her mother’s comfort.

She didn’t cry, but it finally hit Moroha just how much danger she put herself in that day, and how scared the whole ordeal made her, though she’d never admit it out loud.

Even so, the partial-demon couldn’t find it within herself to regret stepping in to help a child in need, and she expressed that sentiment to her mother, her voice muffled slightly from her face still being buried in her mama’s shoulder.

Kagome sighed and pulled herself and her daughter out of each other’s arms, though she still had a grip on the much more petite girl’s shoulders. Her face was resigned, but understanding as she addressed Moroha.

“I understand, sweetheart, and I would’ve done the exact same thing if I were you. But I’m your mother, and I just worry for you is all. I know you can take care of yourself, and I know you did what you thought was right, but I just can’t help it; I want you to be safe. You’ll understand one day when your a mother,”

Kagome grinned when Moroha blushed at the last part.

Moroha coughed awkwardly, shuffling her feet as she looked away from her mother’s grinning face, and Kagome had to stifle a giggle at just how familiar Moroha’s countenance was.

“She’s truly her father’s daughter, that’s for sure…”

“So, um...are we good?” Moroha asked, nervous despite herself.

Taking pity on her poor child, Kagome smiled and looped an arm around her daughter’s shoulder as they walked back away from the trees and led her to their own beddings for the night.

“Yup, we’re good.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You wished to speak with me, Father?” InuYasha asked, bowing respectfully before the Emperor and the rest of his family.

The second he entered the room, InuYasha sensed the tension in the air. His family all had grim expressions upon their faces, save for his mother who had a clearly worried look upon her soft features.

The feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach only intensified when he noticed Sesshomaru and his twin daughters clenching their clawed hands into fists, enough to draw rivlets of blood from all three of them. Sesshomaru’s eyes were also bleeding a light pink, telling InuYasha that whatever the issue was, it was enough to rile up the normally stoic demon lord that he was holding back from transforming.

But the most telling, and ultimately the most concerning, indicator was the absence of his young, cheerful adoptive niece.

InuYasha’s mouth went dry.

“Where’s Rin?” he asked, fear creeping into his heart.

“Missing,” his father simply stated.

A reverberating growl from the Emperor's eldest son rent the air in the room at the word.

“We need you, Sestuna, and Kouga to go and search for her; try to scent her out,” Touga continued, his tone authoritative and resolute like the leader he was.

InuYasha, stone-faced, kneeled on one knee before his father and family, head bowed as he addressed them.

“I will not rest until she is found and safe, Your Highness.” the half-demon general vowed, determination clear in his voice.

The current Emperor and Inu no Taisho nodded, eyeing his Setsuna imploringly. Catching her grandfather’s gaze, the half-demon princess nodded back and stood up, taking her naginata with her as she stepped off the raised platform to her uncle’s side.

“I have already sent a messenger to retrieve Kouga; he will meet you at the front gate. Now go,” the Emperor commanded firmly, to which both general and princess nodded sagely.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“InuYasha!”

InuYasha and Setsuna turned at the call, seeing his half-brother striding up to him with a serious glare.

“Father, what is it?” Setsuna asked, her tone deadpanned like her father’s often was.

The future Emperor stopped before his daughter and brother, his gaze steady but no less imposing.

“I urge you, little brother, to not be your stupid, impulsive self with this matter. It does, afterall, concern my daughter,”

Normally, such a reminder would cause InuYasha to roll his eyes and respond with a smartass retort.

But this time, InuYasha knew the severity of the situation, and he could easily spot the worry in his half-brother’s golden eyes.

They were the eyes of a father, worried for the whereabouts of his child.

Something InuYasha was sure he was never going to experience.

He nodded, his face grave and resolute.

“You have my word, Sesshomaru, that I will find your daughter and bring her home,”

The young lord glanced over at Setsuna, his niece catching his gaze.

“Both of them,” InuYasha concluded.

The older demon stared down at his brother, as though assessing the half-demon’s sincerity of his promise, before giving a single nod of acceptance.

With that, the two half-demons turned and made their way to the front gate, set and determined to bring back their loved one.

To be Continued....

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

A/N: Hope you guys enjoyed it!

Tagging: @misteria247 @loveanime89 @xfangheartx @keichanz @holi-holy @jgomz92 @lostinfantasyworlds @born-for-eachother @littlestuffstohide @nat-the-cat-123 @cnderpaws @mymidnightnightmare @butterflyhufflepuff @bluehawaiicat @pinkweirdsunsets @sangoslays @disneysooner @blairex @shinidamachu @thisisthebesticando @squeep123 @redflamesofpassion @lavendertwilight89 @sailorbabydoll92

Let me know if I missed anybody or you want to jump on the tag train for any of my InuYasha fanfictions!

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evabellasworld · 4 years

Text

Written in the Stars

For @thecl0wnwars, this is my gift for you as past of the @starwarssecretsanta event. Thank you to @lilhawkeye3 for organising this event. I really enjoyed it so far.

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Summary: Bly and Aayla were stargazing after a brutal battle while longing for the war to end

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Laying on top of the soft, emerald grass, Bly rested his head on top of his arms and focused on the night sky, which was encrusted with sparkling stars and an illuminating sapphire moon.

Two, four, six, eight, he muttered to himself, pointing his finger slightly towards the horizon. The clone commander of the 327th Battalion wondered the exact number of stars that he's gazing at this moment.

With only the crickets chirping in his surroundings and the rest of his men asleep in their tents, Bly thanked the Maker that he gets to spend his alone time counting all the stars in the sky, since he hardly had the privilege to do so.

Though he wished that his Jedi General was laying beside him, instead of resting after a long day at the battlefield, with bodies of his dead brothers and sisters laying cold on the ground and an orchestra of blasters and explosions deafening Bly, who was an unwilling actor in this play, along with his troops.

It was his duty to fight for freedom and justice so that one day, the people of the Galactic Republic will live in peace and prosperity. And yet, Bly finds himself doubting whether the war was worth the lives that were lost during the brutal battle.

Moments ago, Aayla was leading him and his troops to fight against the Separatist invasion on Reza, which was a planet known for exporting corn. The prairie land, with a barren grassland and a small town nearby, was engulfed in flames along with the sea of cornfields.

With the screams of the civilians that were caught in between, Bly could never forgive himself for watching as a child got shot by the battle droids and not being able to save him from the Grim Reaper.

But Aayla, on the other hand, had it worse. As a Jedi, she not only sensed their emotion but absorbed the pain that the villagers had to suffer. It got to the point that a fellow Jedi Knight, Eva Bella Young, suffered a seizure from the intense emotion.

He pines as he glanced at the mesmerizing painting that the Maker has blessed him in the sky. He has travelled from planet to planet and yet, he took the beauty of the universe for granted.

Growing up in Kamino, the only thing that Bly was taught was to fight until you die. Nothing more, nothing less. It wasn't until he was assigned to Aayla that he learned to appreciate everything before it was gone forever in his life. His brothers, his sisters, his best friends, and Aayla.

Like the blue moon, he finds her attractive. With blue skin and luscious lips, Bly was struck by her looks, and his feeling for her was more intense when he saw how she treated his brothers and sisters, especially Ahri.

Whenever Bly wanted to speak to Aayla alone, his vod’ika, Ahri, would always be asking her stupid questions, like how to find a book in the library or how to strike a conversation with a woman she met at the bar.

He envies them for trying to steal her attention from time to time, but he knows that jealousy would do no good except poisoning his own heart. He knows that having a sense of entitlement is not the way to have around a woman like Aayla. But yet, he watches most romance movies that his batchmate, Ares recommended to him and he noticed that the characters were constantly pining for each other’s love, ignoring the people around them.

He thought those couples in the movies were selfish and had little chemistry with each other. From what Odd Eye told him, relationships take years to build and seconds to crumble. The thought of losing Aayla in the war scares him as if he has enough of seeing his own troops dying and suffering in pain.

“Bly?” he heard a familiar voice calling him. “Are you alright?”

The commander turned around and saw Aayla standing behind him, her Jedi robes wrapped with her cloak. Bly glanced at her with awe as her beauty shone underneath the blue moon. Her eyes sparkled as her gentle smile warms his heart, making him unsure of his words towards her. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not really,” she answered honestly as she sat beside him, turning his cheeks deep red. “I’ve been thinking about the battle today. It was horrifying to see the villagers suffer in the middle of the battle.”

“Yeah, it was awful,” Bly let out a sorrowful sigh. “They don’t deserve to be caught in the middle of the battle.”

“Unfortunately, that is the cost of the war. It’s always the good ones that had to die first, and all because we want peace in the galaxy.”

Bly hates to agree with that statement that Aayla but she has a point, even if it hurts him personally. "People don't seem to understand what we have to go through, and yet, here we are."

"That is true, though people have a point about the war. All it does is take lives after lives until there are no more to take. Even the ones that survived aren't the same anymore."

That also rings true to him. Bly himself had gone through so many battles. Day by day, he wished that the Reaper would visit him instead of his brothers and sisters. He felt sick to the stomach whenever he had to list down every clone trooper who perished in his report. They may be engineered to kill droids but deep down, those men and women have feelings as well. All those wishes that they made within themselves, were never accomplished.

“Aayla,” he stuttered. “Do you ever wish that you could turn back time and save everyone you loved from dying?”

“Sometimes I do,” Aayla admitted. “I sometimes wished that I could save my friends from death, but in the end, there was nothing we could do except to mourn for them and move on with our lives. It’s not good if you often dwell with your own grief.”

“I see, but do you always blame yourself for watching them die without being able to do anything at all?”

Through the Force, the Twi’lek Jedi sensed turmoil within Bly. His questions about wanting to save his brothers and sisters alarmed her, though, not in a severe manner. She understood the weight he had to carry as the commander of the 327th Battalion. As a Jedi General and peacekeeper, she felt the same burden as well, even without training in leading an army.

“Bly, if something is bothering you, you can always talk to me,” she assured him, brushing her hand with his, much to his surprise.

“I’m alright, general,” he cleared his throat and sat up straight, letting go of her soft palms. “It’s just….”

“You don’t have to say it if you don’t feel comfortable about it.”

“No, general,” he shook his head. “You’ve made a good point about moving on.”

Aayla shifted her gaze towards the sky, which were painted with the stars and galaxy by the Makers. She was thankful that she was wide awake in the gloomy night to see the wonders of the universe. With the war raging in the galaxy, Aayla felt like a youngling who was counting stars until she decided to go to bed.

She remembered a time when there was only peace in the galaxy. A time when the only thing she was sad was when an elderly Jedi Master became one with the Force. A time when children were running around in the hallways of the Jedi Temple instead of leading an army of soldiers.

Aayla wonders if suffering and pain was worth it to achieve peace in the galaxy. She heard a million times that the war would end someday, but that someday doesn’t seem to come any faster as it goes on and on, claiming lives after lives. But for now, she just wants to enjoy the everlasting sight that is laying beside her, counting every star in the sky. “So, how many of them did you manage to count?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Bly asked, clueless.

“The stars, silly,” she chuckled. “How many stars did you manage to count?”

The clone commander blushed, feeling like an idiot for not paying enough attention to her. “Well, I counted around a thousand stars in the sky.”

“Really?” her eyes widened. “That’s amazing. I’m impressed with your mathematics skills.”

“To be honest with you, Aayla, I was only guessing. I didn’t get to count past 20 stars, actually.”

“Well, it’s still impressive, though,” she shrugged. “At least it’s better than not counting at all.”

Bly beamed, tightening his lips. “H-hey Aayla, can I ask you something?”

“Of course, Bly. What is it that you want to ask me about?”

“What kind of advice would you give yourself if you could go back to the past?” he wondered, glancing deeply at her eyes.

“Well, that is a good question,” she said, moving her eyelids upwards, thinking what kind of answer would she give to him. “My only advice to my younger self is to not be overly attached with everyone you loved, as it is unhealthy and it leads to obsession.”

He nodded at her statement. “Did you have an unhealthy attachment with someone before?”

“I used to have intense emotion with my friend Kit, but he doesn't feel the same way for me. So I had to let him go and respect his feelings towards me.”

Bly couldn't help seeing green whenever he saw Aayla and Kit Fisto interacting with each other. Then again, he also felt the same way when Ahri stole her attention away from him. He knows that he doesn't own Aayla, but he felt that he should stop being jealous towards everyone who talks to her, especially his vod'ika, Ahri.

“Are you and Kit still friends?”

“We are,” she nodded. “He is my best friend and I won’t have it any other way.”

“That’s good to hear,” he gleamed. “It’s no good getting your lustrous feelings in the way of friendship anyways. Imagine what it does to your friendship with Kit.”

“Yes, there would be horrible consequences,” she answered, taking a deep breath of the fresh air in her surroundings. “Has that ever happened to you before, Bly?”

He has to be completely honest with Aayla, especially when it comes to his feelings towards and resentment towards Ahri. “My sister and I have been close with each other since the Battle of Geonosis. And then one day, when we were assigned to one of the most beautiful Jedi General, who is also smart and cautious during wartime.”

Aayla could only blush as she knew what Bly was telling her, and who is the particular person that he was referring to.

“And guess what, my feelings towards the general grew as we fought with each other, side-by-side, and we even began to understand each other as well. So imagine my surprise when I found out that my sister also has feelings for the general as well. I didn’t take it well and I ended up lashing out at her.”

He paused for a moment, before he decided to continue his story towards her. “She ended up crying and retreated to her quarters. I felt terrible. She was my closest sister in the 327th Battalion and I made her cry. I guess envy and possessiveness has grown inside my heart without realizing it, but that doesn’t excuse my behaviour towards her.”

“Later, I knocked on her barrack and I apologize for making her feel this way. She forgave me, but I still felt bad for making her miserable, so we talked and talked for hours, and we strengthened our friendship, without letting our pride and ego get in the way.”

Aayla looked at him in a proud manner, placing her hand on his shoulder. “I’m glad that you and Ahri worked on the issue between the both of you. Bly, I understand that you love me very much but sometimes, we can’t be too attached to each other. Otherwise, our relationship would lead to obsession, which is unhealthy for the both of us.”

“I know, Aayla, and I’m ashamed for thinking this way,” he frowned, avoiding her glance. “I just wished that we’re both allowed to be open about our love towards each other. I’m just sick and tired of keeping this a secret.”

“I know,” she caressed his face as she leaned her forehead onto his. “But as long as we have each other, then you have nothing to worry about.”

Bly wrapped his arms around her waist as he felt his heart pounding gently, his eyes closed. Their love may be forbidden and scandalous towards everyone, but he and Aayla surrendered their fate to the Maker of the galaxy. After all, their love story is written in the stars for their children and their grandchildren to read someday.

#star wars #star wars ocs #clone trooper #clone trooper ocs #clone ocs #female clone trooper #commander bly #aayla secura #blyla #bly x aayla #stargazing #emotional intimacy #intimacy #swsecretsanta2020 #love story #fluff #angst

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sophielovesbarnes · 5 years

Text

All or nothing, chapter two.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Winchester!reader

Warnings: Fluff, pregnancy and cursing.

Author note: Alright, here we are, hot out of the oven! Sorry if it took long, I got stuck on a scene but I finally broke the writer’s block and was able to finish this chapter, we will get to see a bit more of SPN on this chapter.

I hope you enjoy it, please let me know what do you think, dm me if you want to be tagged and remember requests are open.

Chapter one

Masterlist

Chapter two

“Come on ladies! They are not called suicide running drills for nothing!” Your coach screams, you are beyond exhausted, your legs feel like they will give in, in any second now, you are covered in sweat from head to toe and your lungs feel like they are on fire. With the National competition getting closer every day your coach gets more demanding and the training sessions become more intense.

“So.” You manage to get out. “I don’t know if calling him is too straight forward.”

“Well.” Ingrid answers with her chest heaving. “It’s not like you have cared about that before.”

“Winchester! Fritz! If you are able to speak then you are not doing it right!”

Ingrid smiles at you and then you both get back to running, an hour; that feels like an eternity later, you are under the shower letting the water wash away your exhaustion, you still have two classes left and you need to mentally prepare yourself for them.

When you are changing into a pink dress Ingrid returns to the topic.

“So what are you going to do?” She asks while brushing her hair. “Are you gonna call the hot FBI agent?”

“I think I will.” You tie your hair up and close your locker. “There’s something really special about him, I just can’t put my finger in what.”

“Aww little Y/N has a crush.”

“Shut it Ingrid, at least I’m doing something about mine.” You say teasingly.

“Hey I’m your base, you don’t wanna bother me.” You both look at each other with serious looks in your face and then burst into laughter. “No but seriously, tell me how it goes.”

“Will do, bye babes.” You kiss her cheek and then leave the locker room.

During class you are barely able to pay attention, when your psychodynamic teacher is talking about the five stages of psychosexual development and the fixations in the oral stage your mind is traveling far away, focused on soft brunet locks and shy smiles.

After school you go back to your apartment, you order chinese for dinner and when the food comes and you are so distracted you are almost sure you gave the delivery guy a 50 dollar bill and told him to keep the change, you eat absentmindedly and then head to your bathroom toying with your phone, after taking a bath you are on your bed, dressed with clean pajamas and your hair wrapped up with a towel, then you finally gather enough courage to make the call.

The phone rings three times before he answers.

“Hello?” Your heart flutters at the sound of his voice.

“Doctor Reid?”

“Who is this?” He asks, you can hear the nervousness in his voice.

“It’s Y/N Winchester.” You answer calmly .”You gave me your card at the FBI lecture at Louisville.”

“Right, how- how may I help you?” He replies.

“I have a lot of questions, and you told me to call if I had them.” You take a deep breath and then say with a wide smile on your face. “But I thought it would be unfair to just ask without giving something in return, so what do you say about me buying you coffee tomorrow? If you’re still in town.”

Silence.

You mentally slap yourself for being too straightforward, what made you think that he wants to go out with you? He most likely has a girlfriend and here you are throwing yourself to him? God, you are so stupid.

“I-I yeah, that would be…” You listen to him taking a deep breath and then he continues. “That would be nice.”

“Great! We should go to Quills, they make this mean peach- lavender lattes.”

“Sounds good.”

“Does four o’clock work for you?”

“Yeah, that’s okay.”

“Hey pretty boy, who are you talking to?” Says a voice on the back, then the call ends.

You are smiling so hard your cheeks hurt, you have a date; well, meeting with doctor Reid, and you can barely hold your emotion. What are you gonna wear? What are you gonna say? Maybe this was a rash idea.

The ring of your phone snaps your mind out of it, when you pick up you see your brother’s face and on the back you hear the sound of vomiting.

“I’m guessing Jo hasn’t passed the throwing up all the time fase.”

“At this point I am pretty sure she kind of hates me.” Says your Adam.

“I don’t kind of hate you Adam, I hate you, hate you.” You hear Jo say, then the sound of vomiting returns.

Jo’s pregnancy had caught everyone off guard, she and Adam were always fighting or calling each other names, but then at the New Year’s Eve party Ellen threw on the Roadhouse they both had too much to drink and the next thing you knew was that you were going to have another nephew or niece in nine months, there was a lot of crying and at some point Ellen threatened to cut your brother’s balls off, now she was just happy with the idea of having a grandchild.

After the initial shock you were happy as well, this wasn’t your first nephew/niece though, Sam and Jessica had two beautiful daughters you adored, Dean had Ben; who was only a couple years younger than you, which was weird; and with Castiel, Dean had applied to be a foster parent, they now had a little boy; Leo, and were hoping to get another child.

You had such a beautiful family and were so grateful for it.

“How are you baby sis?” Adam asks, ignoring Jo’s comment.

“I’m good, very tired, our coach is killing us, and I have a duckton of homework, but in general things are going great, what about you, how are things going on Kansas?”

“Things are good, the workshop is getting a lot of cars, Sam, Jess and the girls visit us every now and then, and Dean and Cas are all about Leo.”

“That’s gonna be you in a couple months you know? Have you thought of any names?”

“Jo likes William or Genevieve, I like Magnolia or Jebediah, Jo doesn’t like them so we have reached an impasse.” You see Jo exiting the bathroom and standing next to your brother.

“Those are old people’s names, tell him Y/N.” Jo says. “Tell him they are horrible names and we are not naming my child like an old person.”

“Our child” He corrects, “And they are good names Joanna.”

“I hate to not be on your side bro, but Jo is right, they are horrible.” You say.

“Thank you Y/N at least one Winchester is using her brain.” Adam rolls his eyes and you laugh.

“They are good names!” Adam insists.

“No they are not.” You and Jo say at the same time, she was your best friend and somehow you were always in synchrony.

“Now if you can’t reach an agreement Y/N is always a good option, it has character, it’s pretty, and let's be honest, the world could use another Y/N Winchester.”

“We don’t need another traitor.” Adam answers with false hurt.

“Ugh, stop being such a drama queen Adam, you know what? Your baby wants an Oreo McFlurry.”

“Five minutes ago you were throwing up and now you want a McFlurry?”

“Yes, so better get on the road because they are going to close, don't do this for me Adam, do it for your baby.”

“So now it’s my baby?” They both start bickering and you swear they already act like a married couple, eventually Jo wins the discussion, because being honest there is no better argument than “I am carrying your baby” so Adam says his goodbyes and leaves grudgingly. You and Jo stay talking for hours, it’s almost 3 am when you hang up, and you fall asleep right after.

When you wake up you feel well rested and you feel like you slept for so long, the sun comes bright through the window and your whole body feels relaxed, which is weird because you went to sleep really late last night, which gets you thinking that you never heard your alarm.

Wait.

You take your phone and press the side button, but the screen doesn’t turn on.

“Shit! Shit! Shit!” You didn’t charge your phone, so the battery is dead which means that you are probably very late, you look up at the watch that’s on the wall, which indicates that it is already 12:15 in the morning, you are definitely very late.

You jump out of the bed and run to the bathroom, no time for showering, you brush your teeth and get dressed with a pair of jeans, plain white t-shirt and sneakers, you tie your hair on a high ponytail, take your bag and run to the kitchen, you grab a banana and a bottle of water and run out of your house.

You race on the road and make it to school on record time, at this time of the day it is barely impossible to find a parking space that is empty, when you manage to park it’s almost one, you mentally curse, get out of the car and run to the classroom, this promises to be a hell of a day.

*****

Spencer has never liked this kind of conferences, they bring him back to his college years, which are not something he likes to think about, he didn’t have the standar university experience, most of the time he was made fun of, being the target of stupid pranks or being just ignored by his classmates, so yeah, college wasn’t something he remembered fondly.

He was on edge until yesterday, when he saw you on the lecture; he had already seen you on the football field being thrown into the air and then landing perfectly with a magazine worthy smile, of course he thought you were pretty, because you were one of the prettiest girls he had ever landed eyes on, but you were also most likely the type of girl that only cared about vain things and would have never noticed him if you had been one of his classmates; he was proved wrong during the lecture.

You weren’t only pretty, you were also smart, probably the smartest girl in that classroom, you were informed and you clearly cared about the topic, and when the lecture ended you went to him, when all the girls went with Morgan or Rossi, you decided to go with him; he was in such a rush he even had the bravery to give you his card.

And then the impossible happened, you called him, and not only that, you asked him out and he hasn’t felt this nervous in ages.

“Reid, Reid.” Morgan’s voice brings him back to the room, he and Rossi are looking at him with worry. “Everything alright pretty boy? You have been acting weirder than usual since yesterday.”

“I am fine.” He answers almost automatically.

“Are you sure?” Rossi asks with an eyebrow raised. “We are worried about you kid.”

“Yeah.” He says. “Colleges just bring me to the edge.”

“Well, don’t worry about it pretty boy, we are just going to be here three more days and we are back to Quantico.”

“I know.”

*****

The whole day you feel like you are running, you are late for class which gets you a reprimand from your teacher, which gets you late to your next class, which ends up getting you late to cheerleading practice. Your coach is so mad she has you running suicides and practicing toe touches until your legs feel like jello.

“Point your toes Winchester! And smile, you have to sell it!” She screams at you, everytime you jump you feel your muscles pull and your empty stomach hurls, you are almost sure that if you keep jumping you might throw up.

When your coach finally lets you go it’s already 4:20, you mentally do the math, if you go to the locker rooms and shower you will be in the coffee shop at almost five o’clock, and agent Reid is probably already waiting for you, so you just grab your bag and run to your car mentally cursing yourself for not charging your phone.

****

Spencer manages to escape Morgan and Rossi, avoiding their questions and he makes it to the coffee shop you indicated by 3:45, minutes go by tortuously, he sees people coming in and out from the coffee with cups on their hands, he sees people laughing and students dragging their feet, the exhaustion of exams and projects reflecting clearly on them, he gets a lot of looks and he starts to grow desperate, he calls you over and over but the calls go straight to voicemail.

By 4:30 he decides you stood him up, this was most likely a prank, how did he not notice? He was a grown ass man, an FBI agent, he was a profiler and still he fell for it. He feels terrible, how could he believe such a beautiful woman would ask him out and actually show up? He takes his bag and gets up from the chair, when he is leaving he sees a car parking and a y/h/c haired girl wearing a Cardinals hoodie and grey yoga pants getting down and running to the coffee shop.

It was you, you didn’t stand him up, you were actually there, he can barely hold his emotion.

“Doctor Reid.” You say, your forehead is covered in sweat and your chest is going up and down rapidly. “I am so, so, so, sorry, did I make you wait too long? I’m sorry, my phone died, and my alarm never went off, and I’ve been late everywhere, and my practice lasted too long, and i didn’t have your card so I couldn’t call you from another phone, and I came here right out of my training, so I must smell like a monster and I am so sorry.”

“It’s okay, I didn’t wait for long.” He lies, and you smile at him, and he can swear it is the most beautiful smile he has ever seen. “Should we order?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You lead the way and stop at the bar. “Hey Lindsey.”

The redhead barista smiles at you and then you look at him and he notices how your y/e/c sparkle with the white lights of the coffee shop.

“What do you want?” You ask.

“You said something about peach lattes?”

“Peach-lavender lattes, it sounds weird but they are great.” You reply, and by this point he’s sure he would believe if you said the moon was made of tofu.

“I’ll have one.”

“Great, two large peach-lavender lattes and a bagel please, can I also borrow your charger?” Lindsay marks your order on the cash register and tells you the total, when Spencer takes out his wallet you stop him. “No, I said I was buying.”

“No, I insist.”

“Doctor Reid, put your wallet down, I was terribly late and I said I was buying, you can pay the next time.” The fact that you imply that there might be a next time makes his heart flutter.

“Alright.” He agrees, when you get your orders you sit on the table he was waiting on and there’s a moment of awkward silence he is not sure how to break. “So, so you said you had questions?”

“Yes, I do.” You take a sip from your coffee and then look at him, he is expecting questions about the FBI, but that’s not where you go. “You have three PhDs, three BAs and you are only thirty-four, how is that even possible? Are you like a genius?”

“I, I don’t believe intelligence can be accurately quantified, but I do have an IQ of 187, eidetic memory and can read 20,000 words per minute.” You stare at him with your eyes wide open and a smile on your lips. “...yes, I’m a genius.”

“That’s… wow.” The conversation flows after that, he talks about some of the most interesting cases he has had, you intervene every now and then making questions or comments that always seem to go to the correct point, and he feels like he can speak freely with you.

“Well, the vast majority of unsubs with a similar MO aren’t driven by the killing, they are merely fascinated by the body parts, it’s like they psychologically exist in a realm where fantasy meets delusion, it’s basically like the blueprint to create the perfect serial killer… I’m rambling aren’t I?”

“It’s okay, it’s fascinating, please go on.” You are one of the only persons he has ever met that reacts that way, most of the time he gets interrupted, he is about to start again when your phone rings, you take a look at the screen and then say. “Sorry I have to take this, it will be just a sec.”

He smiles and nods and you slide to answer.

“What is the point of having an expensive phone if you never answer? Do you know how worried I was?”

“Hi Dean.” You reply, internally laughing at the overprotectiveness of your brother.

“Don’t “hi Dean” me, where have you been? Why haven’t you been answering your texts?”

“I’m in a coffee shop, and my phone died last night and I couldn’t charge it until now.”

“Who are you with?”

“I’m with a… friend.”

“Friend? Are you out with a boy? Who is he? Let me talk to him.”

“Stop being so jealous Dean.”

“So you are with a boy.”

“I’m sorry I have to go, love you, bye.” You say and you don’t even give him time to protest before you hang up. “Sorry about that.”

“No problem.” He must have guessed you wouldn’t be single, he feels jealousy invading him, and he fiddled with his empty cup. “Was that your boyfriend?”

“Gross, no.” There’s a wave of relief when you answer that, and he probably shouldn’t feel it, he’s leaving in a few days, it’s not like there’s the possibility of a relationship. “It was my brother, he can get all Mama Bear when he is worried.”

“Oh, is he your only brother?”

“No, I have three, Dean, Sam and Adam, I am the youngest, like by far, Dean is 19 years older, Sam is 15 years older and Adam beats me by 8 years.”

“That’s a big difference.”

“Yeah, Dean and Sam are my half-brothers, from dad’s first marriage, their mother died when they were very young and dad took it very hard and started to move them around the country, that’s how he met my mom, he went to Minnesota they had a one night stand and she got pregnant, but she didn’t tell him about Adam until he was like six, then he went back to Windom, they fell in love, dad moved them to Kansas, he married my mom and then they had me, hence the age gap.” You explain. “What about you? Any brothers or sisters?”

“No, I’m an only child, I grew up with Doctor Who and Star Trek as my companions.”

“Doctor Who?”

“Yeah, it’s, it’s good.”

“I know, I’m not gonna act like I didn’t mourn for a week when Ten left Rose on the beach.”

“You like it?”

“I may look like your stereotype cheerleader, but I’m a huge geek, Dean and his best friend Charlie made sure of that.”

The conversation flows as freely as water after that, for some reason you find it easy to talk to him, you tell him so many things you haven’t even told Jo, you talk about everything, favorite holidays; yours is Christmas, his is Halloween; tv shows, characters. You delite with his rambling and pay attention to every word he says, when you finally realize it, the sky has turned dark and you are the last people in the coffee shop.

“I think we should probably let them close.”

“Yeah, we should.” You both take your bags and stand up. “Hey, when are you leaving town?”

“On friday.”

“Let me make you dinner, I make a killer lasagna.” You look at him expecting an answer but he can barely say anything, he just had an amazing evening with a gorgeous girl who is now inviting him to her house, he should probably pinch himself to make sure he is not dreaming. “Spencer?”

“Yeah, that sounds good.”

“It’s a date then.”

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x winchester!reader #reid x reader #reid x you #Criminal Minds #criminal minds x reader #supernatural #supernatural x reader #supernatural x you #dean winchester #Sam Winchester #winchester x reader #winchester!sister #winchester!reader #all or nothing

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heyyyharry · 5 years

Text

Chapter 8: The Little Prince and His Flower

(from the My Girl Trilogy: Stay Mine)

…in which Harry must return to Holmes Chapel, Y/N is upset he went without her, and family drama is not family-only.

Word count: 10k

AU: actor!Harry, older!Harry, younger!Y/N, (4-year age gap).

Wattpad link (Thea as Y/N)

What to expect in this chapter: Gemma/Isaac, Niall/?, Ruby(???), and a graveyard ‘date’

Isaac closed his umbrella, almost too caught up in what had happened to realise it'd stopped raining since Gemma had left. His mouth opened to answer Emilia’s question, but his brain was stuttering, unable to keep up.

He'd kissed Gemma.

No, she had kissed him. He didn’t know why she’d done it, but did it matter? He'd kissed her back and he'd liked it. He'd kissed his best friend’s sister, who had a boyfriend, a shitty one, still, it didn’t justify what he’d done.

If Harry knew about this—

His stomach twisted into knots as his palms started to sweat. Harry couldn’t know about this. They were finally on good terms again. Isaac couldn’t fuck this up. Had Emilia seen the kiss? Would she tell Harry if she had?

Isaac took a deep breath to ease his mind. To Emilia, he said, “I came to see you. You didn’t show up for the shoot, Emi.”

“I lost my phone and I thought the shoot was next week.” She gave an apologetic grin. “I’m very sorry.”

Her apology didn’t sound sincere, but now he had bigger problems to worry about. With an impersonal tone, he said, “If you’re not interested anymore, you should’ve let me know so I could find someone else.”

“No, no, I still want to model for you!” She wrapped her fingers around his wrist before he even thought about ending the conversation. His alarmed expression got her blushing as she hid her hands behind her back, staring at her feet. “I’d been...um...I’d been busy preparing for my audition this morning. That was why I took two days off in a row, and then my boss called me here today because the shop got overcrowded.”

“An audition? For a movie?”

He hoped his startlement didn’t offend her. There was nothing wrong with her auditioning for a movie; she used to go to film school after all. But not so long ago she’d told him she’d already given up on her dream of becoming an actress, so he was curious to know how that passion had sparked again.

“Yes, a real movie!” she exclaimed, her green eyes twinkling like Harry’s whenever he talked about his job, or Y/N.

As if Emilia could read Isaac’s mind, she added, “Harry encouraged me to attend casting calls. I’ve done some commercials and modelling before, so a movie would be a nice challenge. He also gave me the contacts of some directors—” His dubious look stopped her midsentence, and her voice went flat, “I didn’t get them from his assistant. He actually gave them to me.”

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“It’s okay. Please don’t explain.” With a frustrated exhalation, she peered around him. “Was that Gemma who just left?”

The hair stood up at the nape of his nape when he met her questioning gaze. Convinced that she’d seen the kiss, he had to admit, “Yeah, it was Gemma.”

Her eyes went round as she considered him in a sceptical manner. “Are you two dating?”

“No. She has a boyfriend.”

Gemma was so private that not many people knew she had a boyfriend. For all he knew, he could’ve lied to Emilia and gotten away with it even if she’d witnessed the kiss. He couldn’t bring himself to do it, though. He had a strict rule against lying. No matter how trivial you thought your lie was, you’d have to cover it up with more lies, and before you knew it, the lie had become too big, like a snowball rolling down a hill. The damage it would cause was inevitable.

Nodding slowly, Emilia ahhhhed in silence and concluded with, “Too bad. I’d love to talk to her.”

He waited for her to continue, but then she told him she had to get back to work and would text him with her new number. Just like that, she disappeared into the shop, leaving him in bafflement.

Emilia was the most curious person he’d ever met, so if knowing Gemma’s relationship status was a good enough answer for her, then she must’ve seen the kiss. What he couldn’t explain was how cool she’d been about it, as if him — her half-brother’s best friend — kissing her half-sister, who had a boyfriend, was the most normal thing in the world.

Either she hadn’t seen anything, or she was a much better actress than he thought.

Y/N had been a fool to think she would worry less about writing now that she’d found the perfect literary agent. For the last few months, she’d been stressed out about pitching her manuscript, but ever since she’d had Laura, her biggest concern had circled back to the manuscript itself.

Laura was a perfectionist, which was good, because she never made mistakes. But she expected the same thing from all of her clients, and Y/N would do anything to please that woman. Even if it meant pulling an all-nighter and living off on tea and protein bars just to finish another scene to move on to the next.

After their first meeting, Laura had emailed Y/N a very long list of what she ‘didn’t like’ about the story. Some scenes were redundant; the drama should be more intense; the plot twists weren’t shocking enough; more sex, more sex, more sex.

Y/N had vowed to herself that she would never, ever, write a generic story just to match a publisher’s bulleted list. Yet here she was, shamefully ticking boxes and changing the entire story as she went. If her characters could step out of the page, they would strangle her in her sleep for how she’d fucked up their lives. But if she was going to have an agent, she had to believe in her agent.

Laura knew what kind of book sold and what didn’t, and at this point, Y/N just wanted her novel to be published. She didn’t care if it wasn’t the best story in her opinion. As long as Laura guaranteed that Y/N’s babies would end up on the shelves in the biggest bookstores in London, Y/N would do anything – and she meant anything – Laura told her to.

“Y/N!”

The voice interrupted her train of thoughts, and she glanced up from her laptop screen to meet Alice’s amused gaze. “You haven’t touched your tea,” Alice said, her grin widened. Only then did Y/N realise her tea had been served a long while ago and already gotten cold. “And maybe stand up and walk around for a bit. How could you sit in one place for three fucking hours? Can you still feel your ass?”

Y/N snorted at the remark and wiggled against her chair. “This ass still feels pretty fine to me.”

“Weirdo,” Alice said, shaking her head.

But Alice did have a point. Y/N had been staring at the screen for so long that the words had begun to look all the same; a short break would do her some good.

Her shoulders sagged as she took off her AirPods, rubbed her eyes with the heels of her palms and glanced around the shop. It’d been so crowded when they had arrived this morning. Now, most of the customers had left, and there were only them, a couple at the table by the street-facing window, and three girls in the corner booth, who were laughing and taking selfies.

Alice shot them a disapproving glare before switching her attention back to the novella in her hands — The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Y/N’s mother had read it to her when she was little, and she still remembered the story as if she’d learned it by heart. You knew when a book was good when even Alice, who absolutely hated reading, could not put it down.

Not wanting to disrupt her friend, Y/N quietly pushed away from the table when Alice snapped her head up, her eyebrows scrunched. “Where are you going?”

“Gotta pee.”

Alice gave a dismissive wave, and her eyes were fixed on the book again.

In the bathroom, Y/N took the far back stall, telling herself to finish quickly so she could get back to work. But while cleaning herself, she heard echoes of high heels accompanied by the laughter of the previous group of girls. The door next to hers opened and shut, and the water ran as one girl washed her hands.

“Did she leave already?” asked the one in the stall.

“I think so,” said her friend outside.

“Shame. I thought Harry was gonna show up,” the third girl sighed in disappointment as the water stopped. The toilet flushed, heels clacked against the marble, and the water ran again.

“I saw him in the car park once,” continued the third voice. “He came to pick her up. You should’ve seen her bitchy face. No wonder she’s got no friend but the psycho Alice Young.”

Y/N scowled when the first girl chimed in, “Remember Mandy Torres from English Lit?”

The Mandy who’d pretended to be friends with Y/N and then shit-talked about her behind her back? Yes, she remembered.

“So Mandy invited them to her party because she’s a sweetheart. Then that bitch got insecure, thinking Mandy might steal her man, so she blew up at Many in the library, calling her names and stuff. Two people saw it!”

Y/N could bet these girls knew it was a lie, and still, they chose to believe it so they could have a reason to hate her.

Three of them laughed at the same time, and then the second one said, “Can’t believe she still showed her face after that clip.”

“What clip?” her friend asked, sounding just as confused as Y/N.

Her heart was pounding, and her fingers were clawing at her knees. She didn’t know what clip they were referring to. And why shouldn’t she show her face?

Yes, she and Harry had filmed a sex tape before, but they’d been careful and deleted it right after they’d watched it together. It was impossible that the clip still existed and had gotten leaked.

“Oh, you haven’t seen it? This morning, someone uploaded a clip of Harry Styles and Ruby Ellis dancing together at a party in LA. They were all over each other.”

“Oh my God, they’re definitely fucking again!”

“Can you blame him? Would you pick that whore over Ruby Ellis?”

Their laughter faded into white noise, and soon their footsteps had become mute.

Y/N sat there for a long moment, fists balling against her skirt until she was sure she was alone again. That was when she got on her feet, flushed the toilet and clawed the door open.

Her reflection in the mirror caught her by surprise. She almost didn’t recognise herself from how angry she looked. Taking a deep breath, she stomped to the sink to wash her hands and then dried them with a paper towel before going back to her table like nothing was wrong.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see those girls watching her. They whispered something to each other, probably shocked and embarrassed that she’d heard them say all those terrible things behind her back.

The old Y/N would have stepped out of the stall and put them in their place. But the new Y/N — Harry’s Y/N — wouldn’t put on a show in public and take down her boyfriend’s career and her dignity.

“You okay?” Alice asked when Y/N plopped down in the chair across from her.

Y/N flatly said, “yes,” and put on her AirPods to get back to work. No more distraction. Fuck those girls. Fuck the internet. She didn’t need to see that clip to–

Her phone buzzed once, and she flinched. Cece had sent her a post on Instagram.

Now what? Was she going to check it? Her mind went numb for a second as her fingers froze on the keyboards. She kept staring at the blinking cursor until her anxiety became too much, and she surrendered. She grabbed her phone, swiped right on the notification and placed her thumb on the home button to unlock the screen.

Have you seen this?

No, she hadn’t. And she hadn’t intended to until now.

The thumbnail of the video was too dark for her to make out what it was, but the caption said: WHAT HAPPENED TO Y/N??? With shocked emojis. Three shocked emojis. His fans were freaking out for her, so this might not be good.

Biting a nail, she muted the volume and tapped on the clip to be directed to the post. It was dark at first, but when the pink light started flashing, she could make out Harry’s figure. She knew his drunk dance moves; he was definitely three sheets to the wind here. Then, she caught a glimpse of the dress Niall had criticised the other night. Ruby looked just as drunk as she danced next to Harry, shouting the lyrics of whatever song the DJ was playing.

It was hard to know for sure what was happening here as it was too dark, but a part of Y/N felt relieved because she had expected worse. They were just dancing together, their bodies barely touching, and there were so many people around.

“Shit.”

She jerked her head to the side, and Alice’s face almost gave her a heart attack. Alice was standing beside her, one hand on the back of Y/N’s chair, the other lay flat on the table.

“I don’t care what everyone’s saying. It doesn’t look like he’s cheating on you.”

Y/N’s heart beat faster even though she knew Harry would never cheat. Not on her, nor anyone else. She’d seen how he’d beat himself up for sleeping with Ruby despite her having a boyfriend. He’d made mistakes in the past, but he would never hurt a woman by cheating on her.

Maybe the issue didn’t lie in the fact that everyone was saying he had or was going to cheat on Y/N. Maybe seeing him dance with Ruby – at the big fancy party Y/N had refused to attend – made her feel like he would be happier at places like that, with people like that, people like Ruby and his famous friends.

Her chest sank as she finished the thought, but she still managed to set it aside as she closed her laptop and rose from her seat. “Ready to go, Al?”

“Sure, but can I pee first? I need to pee.”

Alice’s grimace made her giggle as she watched her friend rush to the bathroom.

She began to gather her notebooks and chargers when her phone buzzed repeatedly, and when she saw it was Harry, she picked it up. Something told her he’d just woken up, seen the clip and freaked out. He should freak out. Because she’d almost had a heart attack.

She shoved the rest of her things into her bag and hit the talk button.

“I’ve seen the video, so we don’t have to talk about it.”

“Shit,” he grunted. “Are you mad at me? I swear I was drunk and didn’t know who I was dancing with, but Jeff called me a taxi afterwards and–”

“Don’t worry, I’m not mad at you.”

When he let out a sigh, she could almost see him close his eyes and put a hand against his chest. “Where are you?”

“At a coffee shop on campus.” She leaned her hip against the table as she turned and made eye contact with one of the girls in the corner booth. The girl turned back to her friends like nothing was wrong, but Y/N knew the bitch was scared to death. To Harry, she said, “I’m heading home though. I’ll see you at the airport tonight, kay?”

“That...won’t be necessary.”

“What do you mean?” She straightened when realisation hit her. “Harry, where are you?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

She knew it.

“I knew it! I knew you’d go without me.”

“I’m sorry, babe. I didn’t want to involve you in my family drama. I’m going to talk to my mum alone, and then–”

She didn’t want to let him finish. “I’m already involved, though. I could help. You might get anxious and say the wrong things. Look how it went with Gemma.”

When he paused, she knew he knew she was right. Still, his stubborn ass would never admit it. “I’m sorry, babe. At least you can focus on your book while I’m not there. Miss you. See you soon.”

The line disconnected. She stared at the screen in disbelief, and text messages from him popped up.

Forgot to say I love you.

I love you.

With a sigh, she stuffed her phone into the front pocket of her backpack and pinched her temples. She hated that she couldn’t stay mad at him, but she wished he hadn’t blindsided her like that.

Whatever. She’d deal with him when he got back tomorrow.

She shrugged on the backpack just in time Alice returned from the bathroom. Alice clumsily threw her things into her nude tote bag and hurried to the door as Y/N preceded. The moment they stepped out into the street, Alice asked, “Did those Kardashian wannabes bother you when I was in the bathroom?”

She was referring to the girls in the corner booth.

“Why’d you think so?” Y/N responded as she kept on walking.

“I saw them glaring at you when we left, and I almost stopped to throw a fist.” Alice swung her fist and frantically apologized to an annoyed pedestrian for almost hitting him.

“Well, they talked shit about me in the bathroom and didn’t know I was there.” Y/N rolled her eyes.

“Why didn’t you tell me? I would’ve poured drinks on them like I did with Mandy.”

Y/N froze in her tracks, her eyes widened. “You did what with Mandy?”

“I heard her talk shit about you at her party so I poured vodka on her head.” Alice clasped both hands together in front of her chest. “Please don’t be mad at me.”

Y/N stared at her friend unblinkingly for a moment, and then crushed her in a fierce embrace. “You’re a good friend, Al. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” Laughing, Alice clasped Y/N’s shoulders and pushed away from her. “You’re not going to cry, aren’t you?”

“No, you dick.” She brushed Alice’s hands off. “Lunch?”

“Sure. I’m starving.” With an arm around each other’s waist, they strolled down the busy pavement together.

After lunch in the Vietnamese restaurant right across from Y/N’s block, they ran into Blake outside. He was about to get into his car when he spotted Y/N and waved at her.

This was actually the first time she’d seen him in casual clothes. He always wore suits when he went to work, and workout clothes when he was at home. Today, he wore a black t-shirt with dark blue jeans, his hair uncombed, his smile wide. He looked almost five years younger. Almost like the ‘high school bad boy’ Blake that she remembered.

“Jesus, is that your ex-boyfriend slash neighbour?” Alice dropped her jaw as she fanned herself, and Y/N quickly swatted her on the arm.

Blake rested an arm on the roof of his car as a dimple appeared in his cheek. “Working on a Saturday, Miss Writer?”

“Working everyday, Mr Lawyer.”

Alice elbowed her gently while looking Blake up and down, so she had to add, “This is my friend Alice.”

“Nice to meet you, Alice. I’m Blake.”

Alice caught his hand with both of hers and shook it firmly. “Y/N has said a lot about you.”

“Has she?” Blake arched an eyebrow at Y/N, who scoffed and waved Alice’s comment away.

“Don’t believe her. She’s nuts.”

“Hey!”

Y/N ignored her friend and switched her attention to Blake’s car. He hated driving as much as she did, only because he preferred his motorcycle – which she assumed he’d left in the US – otherwise he would rather walk. And since he didn’t have to work on Saturdays, she took a guess that he was going out of town.

“Where are you going?”

“Holmes Chapel.”

His answer made her flinch. From what she’d heard, his parents didn’t live there anymore. So why would he go there?

“I’m visiting my grandma,” he said before she could ask. “You’ve met her a few times, remember?”

She nodded. His grandma used to love her. After they’d broken up, Y/N had even considered going to his grandma’s house every day so that Grandma Roman would grow attached to her and convince Blake to get back with her. Now she was glad teenage Y/N hadn’t had the nerves to do something so humiliating.

“Y/N, you’re going to Holmes Chapel tomorrow, right?”

Y/N shot Alice a disapproving glare before telling Blake, “Harry and I were gonna go together, but something came up and he had to go without me.”

Had to. Inner Y/N rolled her eyes at the words.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Blake said, but she waved it off.

“Don’t be. Tell your grandma I said hi, okay?”

“Okay. Good luck with your writing.”

Her response was simply a dissatisfied hum. Just thinking about spending another night alone in her flat with her laptop could almost make her go insane. She could go out tonight, but she’d feel guilty because she didn’t have a reason to not write another chapter. If she was surrounded by family and friends, however...

“Blake,” she said before he could get into his car. “Can I go with you?”

When Alice dropped her jaw and Blake’s eyes went wide, she continued, “I can sit in the back. I won’t bother you.”

She'd already braced herself for rejection, knowing how much Blake hated being in a car with other people during long drives, even when he was the passenger. He relished the feeling of an adrenaline rush while riding his motorcycle, and had often joked that he’d felt most alive when he might die. Being in a car confined him. So did the company of someone else. It’d been different when they’d been a couple but they weren’t anymore. Now she was just ‘someone else’ to him.

“Sure, I don’t mind.” He flashed a grin that deepened his dimple and caught her by surprise.

“You don’t have to. I don’t want to make you feel uncomf–”

“I don’t mind driving you, Y/N. Get in.” He patted the roof of his car, and Alice aimed a pointed glare at him as if she hadn’t sighed like a schoolgirl when they shook hands.

Although Y/N understood Alice’s concern and was well aware that she would be spending three hours in the car with her ex, going with him sounded like a better idea than taking a taxi.

She hadn’t sat behind the wheel since the accident and had only let Harry drive her around. But somehow she trusted Blake. She’d trusted him with most of her first times, and being in a relationship with him for two years had convinced her that he was a careful driver.

“Y/N!”

The solitary voice caught her by surprise. She whipped around to see Niall crossing the street and stalking toward her with a bubbly grin on his face.

“Is that Niall Horan?” Alice unconsciously dug her nail into Y/N's arm, and Y/N winced as she pulled away.

“What are you doing here, Niall?”

“I had a photoshoot in this area and I thought we should hang out. You know, since we’re officially friends now.” He raked his fingers through his hair and arched his mouth when he noticed Blake. “Hey, man.”

Blake only raised his palm, saying nothing.

“This is Alice,” Y/N said as she gripped Alice’s hard shoulders. “She’s a big fan of yours, so please be nice to her.”

"Nice to meet you," Niall said. "Alice is a pretty name."

When he took Alice's hand and pressed a kiss to it, Y/N thought her friend would just pass out right in front of them. Alice might be bold with Blake, Isaac, and even Harry, but facing Niall, she suddenly forgot how to speak. Which might be a good thing because she said crazy things when she was nervous, and Y/N couldn’t handle more crazy right now.

“I’m sorry, Niall. I’m actually leaving.”

“Oh, where are you going?”

“We’re going to Holmes Chapel,” Blake answered on her behalf, still leaning against his car. He didn’t seem frustrated that she and her friends were wasting his time, and she truly wondered why.

Niall turned back to her with an eyebrow raised. “Weren’t you going with Harry tomorrow?”

“Apparently not,” she huffed. “But don’t worry. I’ll text him to let him know.”

“I can give you a ride.”

Niall pointed to the black Audi parked on the other side of the street. A man in a black suit, buzzed head, twice her size, gave them a cold stare as Niall waved and smiled at him.

“That’s Barry. He’s cool.”

She took a surprised breath, considering Barry for a quick second. “I think I’ll be fine with Blake.”

She would have agreed to go with Niall in a heartbeat, if there was just Niall, and he was driving a less luxurious vehicle. She could already imagine how badly her body would ache when they arrived, as she wouldn’t dare to move a single muscle in his new car, especially when Barry was the one who drove it.

“Okay.” Niall gave a nonchalant shrug as he fished out his phone and made a quick call. “Hey, man.” He gave the scary man across the street a peace sign. “I’ll stay with my friend. You may leave now. Thanks, Barry.”

Y/N watched Niall’s bodyguard/chauffeur get into the shiny Audi, not knowing what to expect when Niall put his phone away and switched his attention back to her.

“Let’s go.”

She narrowed her eyes at him. “What do you mean?”

“I’m going with you,” he said with a smirk, “and Blake.”

“Can I come, too, please?” Alice interjected as she tugged Y/N’s arm. “I’ll be quiet as a mouse, you won’t even know I’m there.”

“I’m not the one who gets to decide here, Al,” Y/N grumbled.

“Alice and Niall can join us,” Blake interfered, at last. “The more the merrier.”

When Alice started bouncing like a kid in a sweet shop, he mouthed it’s okay to Y/N, and she responded with an apologetic twitch of her lips that was meant to be a smile. If he was only acting to be polite to her friends, she’d feel so shitty.

Blake opened the door on the passenger side for her, but Niall quickly got in and buckled his seatbelt. With a sigh, she joined Alice in the backseat. Something told her that this was going to be the longest three hours she had ever experienced.

Gemma tightened her fingers around her phone. With one hand in her hair, she kept pacing back and forth in her hotel room, the beating of her heart accelerating with each ring. She hated phone calls. There was something so nerve-wracking about talking to someone and not knowing what their true reaction was. However, she knew Asher wouldn’t hold anything back.

When you’d been with someone for two years, you’d figure out their patterns. You could predict what they were going to say or do in a certain situation. And she wished it hadn’t been the case this time as what she was expecting was pretty awful.

She’d always considered Asher’s bad temper a minor flaw, but it hadn’t been easy lately. His business was going down. His dad had decided to stop pouring money into his failed ventures, which was why he’d been spending so much time with his family. He wanted to be on his father’s good side while sweet-talking his mother into helping him.

He was a mama’s boy, like Harry. The only difference was that Harry genuinely loved his family and would never blame Gemma for his own mistakes. Asher, on the other hand, took his exasperation out on her, making her feel like she’d been the cause of all of the bad things that’d happened to him in the last couple of months. She’d been walking on eggshells around him, well aware of how toxic that was, but the idea of ending a two-year relationship was too intimidating.

The ringing abruptly stopped. And so did she.

“Yes?” Asher spoke. He hadn’t heard from her in two days, and that was all she got from him. Yes?

“I have to tell you something,” she said anyway, trying to sound more composed than she looked. Perhaps a phone call was a good idea after all.

“I also have something to tell you. Can I go first?”

“Sure.” As much as she wanted to get this off her chest, the more she delayed, the more time there was to prepare herself for his reaction. She’d never seen anyone confess to their partner that they’d cheated and receive instant forgiveness, not even in movies. It definitely wouldn’t be the case for her and Asher.

“I think we should take a break.”

Her brain slowed down, unable to process that information. Her mouth opened and shut a few times like a goldfish until she could speak. “What do you mean?”

She knew exactly what a break meant. She just couldn’t bring herself to believe he’d actually proposed it, at least not before she told him about the kiss.

“I want us to stop seeing each other for a while.”

“We haven’t seen each other in weeks, Ash.”

“Come on, Gem, you know this is inevitable. We’ve been fighting constantly.” Yes. Because of him. “And I can’t remember the last time we had sex.”

“So you’re suggesting that we take a break so you could fuck other people?”

A long stretch of silence followed her question. Waves of anger splashed over her as she gripped the phone so tightly her knuckles turned white. She couldn’t believe she’d been so scared to tell him the truth, and then he’d proposed something like this without any sign of guilt.

“We both need this, Gem.”

“You’re right. We do,” she said despite the lump in her throat. “Goodbye, Ash.”

She ended the call before he could say another word and rushed to open the window. She needed some fresh air, otherwise, she might throw up.

Gripping the sides of the window frame, she took in a sharp breath. When she opened her eyes again, she saw a familiar Prius parked in front of the building. It looked like the one in Harry’s car collection, but wasn’t he in Holmes Chapel right now?

She’d gotten her answer as soon as the door was opened, and Isaac stepped out, phone in his hand. When he brought it up to his ear, her phone started buzzing, and she instantly grabbed it and tapped answer.

“Hello?”

“I’m here. Let’s go,” he said.

“What?”

“I’m driving you, remember?”

“Driving me where?”

“To Holmes Chapel.” His soft laugh melted the coldness remaining in her heart from the phone call with Asher. After an awkward pause, he said, “Oh shit, didn’t Harry tell you? He asked me to pick you up.”

She shook her head even though he couldn’t see. “I said I’d take the train.”

“You don’t have to. Your mum asked me to come for dinner and I just needed a reason to get out of town.”

Something told her Harry hadn’t asked him to pick her up, and she hated how good that made her feel.

When the thought of Asher crossed her mind, she snapped out of her fantasy. This wasn’t right. She was a hypocrite for being angry at Asher and then having butterflies thinking about her brother’s best friend. Clearly she wasn’t going to sit in a car with Isaac for three hours after what she’d done.

“Come on, Gem. We don’t have to talk about it.”

It.

He couldn’t even say the word. Her kiss must have disgusted him. She’d forced herself on him, and he was still nice enough to offer to drive her. He was only doing this because he was nice, because he was Isaac, not because he had feelings for her. Why would she want him to have feelings for her, anyway? She was still with Asher. Kind of. And she would eventually have to tell him that she’d cheated on him and then beg for his forgiveness.

Now that she thought about it, she believed she deserved this. She needed to start acting like a grown woman and dared to face what she’d done.

“Okay, give me a minute,” she told Isaac.

“All right.” A grin could be heard in his voice before the call disconnected. She sighed roughly, tucked her phone into the pocket of her jeans as she gathered essential things and quickly headed out.

When Isaac saw her walk toward him from the building, his first instinct was to shove his hands in the pockets of his trench coat, giving her a smile so courteous that it made her skin crawl. He loved giving and receiving hugs, but he didn’t do it with her anymore because she’d crossed the line.

He opened the door on the passenger side for her, and she got into his car, buckled her seatbelt as he got behind the wheel. The door was closed, muffling the traffic noise, and she could hear the pulse in her throat loud and clear.

She had to say something.

“What happened to the Range Rover?”

“Oh, this one’s Harry’s,” he said, his voice casual as he started the engine and drove back onto the street. “He lent it to Emilia so she could go to a movie audition. She asked me to return it.”

The nervousness was washed away by irritation as her face screwed up. “He lends her his cars now? Harry is anal about letting people drive his babies.”

“He did lend it to her. I asked him,” Isaac said with a shrug. “He said she’s basically family now.”

“I need to slap him when I see his stupid face.”

“And I need to watch that. Maybe film it, too,” he chuckled, eyes on the road.

She allowed a goofy smile to play on her lips, which vanished as she started to analyse what he’d said. “Did you meet Emilia today?”

“We did a photoshoot. She’s my new model.”

“Oh,” she said, unsure how she wanted that one word to sound.

Before she could dwell on the idea of him and Emilia, he broke the silence. “Harry said you’d asked him to go alone, but then you changed your mind. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah.” She tucked a strand behind her ear, fighting the urge to look at the side of his face as they talked. “I wanted him to fix the mess that he’d started, but then I realised he was an idiot and would most likely mess things up even more.”

That wasn’t the reason. Harry was no longer the careless kid who randomly brought up Winton and made their mum cry without knowing it. He was an adult and would figure out a sensible way to talk to their mum about Winton and Emilia. So why did Gemma insist on going home?

It took a moment’s thought for her to realise she’d done this out of guilt, and maybe desperation, too. She felt bad about forcing her brother to do the hard work, and at the same time, needed the safety of her family to escape from the stress her relationship had put upon her. She wished she could tell Isaac everything, but she didn’t want to make this trip about her.

“Are you mad at me?” His question brought her back to reality. Only then did she realise they had left the city and were heading onto a country road between large green fields. “Gem, are you mad at me?”

Her heart skipped a beat as she began to fidget with her handbag on her lap. He’d promised that they wouldn’t talk about the kiss. Did he lie to get her into this car?

“No, I’m not.” She winced at how forceful that sounded.

“Are you sure?”

“You said we didn’t have to talk about it,” she snapped and stiffened in her seat when he darted a quick glance her way before focusing on the road again.

He swallowed once. “I just don’t want us to be awkward with each other, Gem.”

“You’re right.” She lowered her face and scratched the tip of her nose. “I’m sorry for what I did. I wasn’t thinking.”

“I know why you did it.”

He did?

“You had a fight with your boyfriend and you were confused, right?”

“No, I–” She paused, feeling overwrought. “Why aren’t you upset? You should be angry at me.”

“No, I shouldn’t.”

“Yes, you should!” She almost turned and sat upright if it wasn’t for the seatbelt holding her back. “I kissed you when you didn’t want to be kissed. You should be angry.”

“Gemma,” the sound of her name vibrated with his warm laughter, and she felt her body melting into the leather seat. “I kissed you back, so I’m equally guilty here.”

Had he kissed her back? She couldn’t recall. The comforting scent of his cologne accompanied by the shock and guilt must have dulled her senses. But if he had kissed her back, did it mean he’d wanted her, too?

“Don’t worry,” he said after stealing another glance at her. “I know you’re in a long-term relationship. And I don’t want to mess it up, so let’s pretend it never happened. I think you weren’t aware that you were kissing me. I mean, someone like you would never kiss me.”

“Someone like me?” Her gaze jumped to the side of his face. “What does that mean?”

Thinking she was offended, he awkwardly explained, “That...that was meant to be a compliment. You’re a strong and independent woman. You’re smart, beautiful, funny–”

“Pull over,” she said, her heart pounding in her ears.

A glimpse of horror crossed his face as he faltered, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to–”

“Pull over, Isaac.” Her voice was strained, her eyes intense. The car reached a standstill on the side of the road, and her mind was spiralling out of control as she unbuckled her seatbelt and launched herself across the gearshift. She was on his lap, arms wrapped around his neck.

His body was stiff as a board when he dropped his gaze to her mouth, making her wonder if he’d been thinking about her since they’d kissed. She knew she had. The memory made her lips tingle as if he’d kissed them again. She wanted him to kiss them again.

They brought their mouths together at the same time. His hands claimed her face to deepen the kiss, and euphoria shocked through her system as she kissed him harder. She fisted the fabric at his chest, pulling him closer while his hands swept down her back, squeezing her hips. In that moment, when they were alone on the empty road surrounded by windy green fields, something that was meant to be wrong, felt like the rightest thing she had ever done.

Harry had been waiting on the porch since he’d gotten the text message from Y/N. His mum had told him to wait inside, but watching the street somehow made time fly faster. Or so he hoped.

He rested his elbows on his knees, face between his palms, unconsciously tapping his right foot. He did deserve this. He’d blindsided her and now she was making him pay by going home with her ex. Fuck that lawyer kid. Who did he think he was? If there hadn’t been Niall and Alice, Harry would have driven all the way back to London to pick her up.

Twenty minutes felt like two hours as he waited, and when he spotted a car from a distance, he immediately bounced onto his feet. But it was Isaac and Gemma in his black Prius, not his Bambi.

“Wow, aren’t you excited to see me?” Gemma sneered as she stepped out of the vehicle and walked towards him.

Isaac greeted Harry with a hug, and Harry pulled away and nodded his head toward Gemma. “You didn’t have to drive her, you know. I could’ve picked her up at the station.”

Silent, Gemma thinned her lips as Isaac rubbed the back of his head. Why were they acting so awkward? Had Harry said something wrong?

“I know what’s going on here.” Harry put his hands on his hips and narrowed his eyes at both of them. “You’re mad at me for lending Emi my car.”

Gemma’s shoulders dipped as she let out a sigh. “Even that name irritates me.”

“Oh, come on, Gem.” He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and pulled her to his chest, but she pushed him away. “That one is my least favourite,” he said, pointing to the Prius.

A corner of her lips quirked up as she brushed past him. “And you’re my least favourite person.”

Isaac tossed him the key and followed her, but before they made it to the porch, another car entered their street. Harry’s Bambi was here.

“My Bambi’s here!” he squealed like a little kid, making Gemma snort.

“Wait, Smiley’s here?”

“It’s weird that you still call her that, but yeah, Niall’s here, too,” he told Isaac and stalked toward the car which had pulled over in front of his house.

Niall got out first, stretching his limbs before pulling Harry in for an embrace. “You owed me, Harold.”

“I know. Thanks, mate.” Harry let go of Niall to hug Alice. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“I didn’t either, but here I am. Lovely neighbourhood!” Alice lifted her shoulders as she adjusted the strap of her bag and then lowered her voice to almost a whisper, “Niall’s single, right?”

“Al! What are you whispering about?”

Harry’s gaze jumped to Y/N, who had finished saying goodbye to Blake. When Blake saw him, the kid raised a palm and a smile which looked fake as hell, but Harry managed to keep his calm and returned one just as plastic.

Y/N walked around the car and threw herself into Harry’s arms, holding his face and kissing his lips. He held her flat against him as he kissed her harder. He could hear Niall making a gagging noise, but he didn’t care as long as he got to rub this in Blake’s face. Because he was as mature as a nine-year-old, and he was fine with it.

“Stop eating her face, pervert.”

Gemma’s comment broke him and Y/N apart. He flipped his sister off and, with a smug look on his face, watched Blake’s car drive ahead and disappear at the end of the road. A swat on the chest made his eyes jump back to Y/N.

“You’re in so much trouble, Harry.” Her nose wrinkled, and he wondered if she knew how cute she looked when she made that face. He cupped her cheeks and kissed her forehead when Gemma took their friends into the house.

“I’m sorry, babe. Why didn’t you text me sooner?” he said with a pout. “You waited until you were almost here to tell me you were coming.” With fucking Blake.

“Well, I knew you were going to wait on the porch. Couldn’t make you wait for three hours.”

His heart fluttered as he pressed a kiss to her temple. “You know me so well, kid.”

“I’m still pretty mad at you,” she said. “But I do have a lot to tell you about.”

“About your book?”

She smiled and nodded. He released a relieved sigh as he brought her hand to his mouth and kissed her knuckles. “I was afraid that you’d be mad at me. The clip and everything.”

She lifted an eyebrow. “Would you prefer that I’m mad at you?”

“No.” He shook his head and pecked her lips then either corner of it. “I’m a bad boyfriend. I should’ve driven you, not your stupid ex. Thank God for Niall and Alice.”

“Niall was even worse than you,” she giggled.

He nuzzled her neck, tilting her head up to press a series of kisses to her jaw. When his hands swept from her back to her spine, she snatched his wrists and pinned them to his chest. The way she arched an eyebrow and clicked her tongue made his cock swell against the fly of his pants. When her pupils dilated, he knew she felt it, but she didn’t acknowledge it and gave him a chaste kiss on the lips before pulling away.

“I have to say hi to Marcy and Dad. I’ll come over later, kay?”

“Tell them to join us for dinner.” He tugged her arm, not letting her go just yet. “Bradford and I can bond over our hatred for Blake. It’ll be fun.”

“I’m sure he’d love to come, consider how much he loves Isaac.”

“Damn it,” he cursed when she burst out laughing and cupped his face to kiss him twice on the cheeks. With a lovesick smile, he watched her pad across her front yard and waited until she’d gone into her house to finally return to his.

His mother was so happy to have so many guests that night. She’d cooked a big meal for everyone. Even Bradford and Marcy came to join them. Just like Harry’s promise, he and Bradford had bonded over their same intense dislike for Blake Roman. Y/N had to stuff their mouths with spaghetti so they would stop talking. Alice had won Niall over with her review about the first book she’d read in her life, and now Niall was reading the first book in his life. Weird, but cute.

What was even weirder, however, was to see his sister being so close with Isaac. They’d been whispering back and forth the whole night, and not once did Gemma mention Asher. Harry didn’t like Asher that much so he didn’t mind, and it was good to see Gemma happy again. He hadn’t seen her smile that big before. His mum, too.

His heart sank to the bottom of his chest as he remembered the reason they were all here. He had to tell his mum about Winton.

She would be so disappointed. She might even cry. And this dinner, all of these jokes, all this laughter would mean nothing when she heard about Winton and Emilia. Harry hated to be the reason the women he loved cry. But if he didn’t tell his mum, and she found out herself, he’d be the shittiest son in the world. This would hurt either way, one less than the other.

Dinner was over soon. While everyone gathered in the living room for a game, Harry and Gemma volunteered to clean up. Just like when they were kids, they did something wrong and volunteered to do the housework so the chance of them being forgiven would be higher. Harry knew what he’d done wrong. He didn’t know why Gemma was here.

“They’re playing Scrabble.”

The voice made him flinch before two arms wrapped around his waist, pulling her body toward his. Y/N tiptoed to kiss his neck, and he giggled like a little boy. Gemma gave them a funny look but didn’t say a word because she, and everyone else, was already used to their public affection.

“Let’s wait until tomorrow morning,” she told Harry, and his face screwed up.

“And ruin Mum’s entire Sunday?”

“Well, would you prefer that she stay up all night?”

“I agree with Gemma, baby.” Y/N tightened her grip around his waist, resting her cheek against his back. She felt so small pressed against him like this, and since he’d gone two days without fucking, the thought of holding her up against the wall and spreading her open with his arms beneath her knees was enough to turn his balls blue. He would make that fantasy a reality if Gemma weren’t here, and they weren’t one door away from the only group of people whose opinions about them mattered.

“Okay, tomorrow then,” he said and turned on the tap to wash his hands.

“Alice will sleep with me tonight,” Y/N said. “Niall or Isaac can use our guest room.”

“I’ll sacrifice Niall. Your guest room is shit, and I love Isaac a bit more than Niall.”

She pinched his side and he jumped, but her arms forced his body still.

“I’ll let Gemma pick then,” he said.

“What?” Gemma asked, distracted.

“Isaac and Niall,” he raised a smirk. “One will have to sleep in Y/N’s shitty guest room. One stays here with us.”

“It’s not shitty,” Y/N said in a protesting tone.

“Babe, I saw a rat the last time we had se—”

She smacked a hand over his mouth before he could finish the sentence. As Gemma rolled her eyes at them, he plucked Y/N’s fingers off his face and told his sister, “Go ahead. You pick.”

She opened her mouth. For a second, he thought she was going to answer, but then she released a huff and said, “I’m not doing this with you children.”

“Children?!” He dropped his jaw as she stalked out of the kitchen. Y/N dissolved into laughter as he spun around, took each of her arms and draped it over his shoulder.

A smile played on her lips, and she asked, “Do you wanna join them or go on a date with me?”

“Oooh, where is this date?”

“The cemetery.”

His face went blank for a second as she stifled a laugh. “Just kidding.” She pinched his cheeks. “I’m going to see my mum. You coming?”

“Why does it have to be now?”

“Are you coming or not?”

He was so whipped he would have gone without knowing it was the cemetery. “Fine. But if we see a ghost, I’m leaving you behind.”

She laughed and shoved him away, and they raced each other to the living room. They told everyone that they’d go out for a walk. And as he escorted her to the door, Niall and Alice started clapping and cheering, and Gemma tossed a pillow at Niall to get him to shut up.

There wasn’t a particular reason that Y/N had chosen to plan a cemetery visit at this hour. She simply enjoyed strolling around town in the night as much as Harry did. When he was a teenager, he used to bring one of his dates to the field behind his house, and they had taken long walks under the night sky and made out in his car afterward.

He’d thought it’d been the most romantic experience in his life, until two years ago, when they’d visited her mother’s grave together. That was when he’d realised the cemetery could be romantic. Everything turned romantic when he was with her.

So if she wanted to walk around a graveyard at one in the morning, he would blindly follow, no questions asked.

After finding a safe parking spot, they walked to the tall iron gate that looked like the set of a Hitchcock movie. No one had bothered to polish it since the last time they’d been here, and he guessed no one intended to anyway.

Just like the last time, she snuck through an opening in the fence to get into the cemetery, and he tagged after, his heart thumping loudly. They’d better get to share a cell if they got arrested for trespassing.

It was a little foggy at 1 AM. The air was cold and the grass was damp. They padded across a desolate lot and were careful not to get their shoes dipped into the mud. As they followed the brick pathway, he negotiated his way around the gravestones, trying to keep up because she was walking too fast, like a ghost. The thought made him shiver. Probably not the best comparison to make when they were literally in a cemetery.

After a five minute walk, they finally arrived. Her mother’s headstone stood erect, bathed in light spilt from the ashen moon. Seeing the fresh flowers on the grave, Harry assumed Bradford had just visited his wife today. Y/N had told Harry that her dad came here every week to trim the grass and clean the stone. It was nice how much things had changed since their last visit.

As she squatted down to rearrange the flowers, Harry spotted a newly dug grave nearby and pointed to it, grinning. “Your mum’s getting a new neighbour.”

Y/N put a finger to her lips and shushed him. “Don’t disrespect the dead! They’ll come for you tonight!”

He scoffed at the threat, but as a cold breeze whisked right through his clothes, he immediately cowered to her side, and she doubled over, almost choking on her own laughter.

After giving her mother updates on her book and his Oscar nomination, Y/N kissed her fingers, pressed them against the moonwashed stone and bid her mother goodbye. They followed the same path weaved around tombstones to go back to the opening between the fence. With a feeling of being watched, Harry kept looking behind him as he clung onto Y/N like she was his weapon.

“Don’t look back,” she said. “My mum is following us.”

The shadow of a smile on her lips almost got him running for his life. He swore he’d never do this with her again, knowing for a fact that he would, if she only asked.

Once they returned to their parking spot, they retrieved two cans of Coca-Cola from Y/N’s bag and lay on their backs on the bonnet of his car to watch the stars. His adrenaline from their stroll across the cemetery was finally washed away as he listened to her ranting about her new book.

He wasn’t a writer so he wasn’t qualified to give her any advice. He mostly just listened, and because he knew Y/N didn’t want people’s advice. She vent her frustrations to feel better for a while, and most likely would end up doing whatever felt right to her.

Soon the topic of work bored her out. She extended a hand toward the sky and closed her fingers around nothing as if she was grasping the stars.

“Have you read The Little Prince?”

The random question put a smile to his lips. “The book Alice and Niall couldn’t shut up about during dinner?”

“Yeah.”

He took her hand that was in the air and brought it to his mouth so he could kiss her knuckles. “I have. Why?”

“My mum read it to me when I was little,” she said. “I used to wish I’d lived on the little prince’s tiny planet. All you needed to do was move your chair a few steps and you could see the night sky whenever you liked. We could live in this same moment, over and over again.”

“And never grow older,” his voice softened, and she replied with a quiet hum.

“Wouldn’t that be great?”

He cocked his head to the side and met her softened gaze. But then a hint of worry washed out that dreamy haze, and a line appeared between her brows.

“Do you sometimes wish I was cooler?”

That was a big shift from the story of the little prince. Surprised, he squeezed her fingers gently. “What do you mean? You’re always cool.”

“I mean, cool like...like your friends cool.” She huffed in frustration as she didn’t know how to properly get her point across, but he’d already figured it out.

“You should’ve told me the clip still bothers you,” he said with a frown, and the way she pursed her lips confirmed his speculations. “Bambi…”

“We used to have a lot in common when we were kids.” Her bottom lips trembled as her breaths quickened. “Now our lives are so different. And I’m fine with it, and I know you are too because we love each other. But sometimes it feels like…” She stalled, and with no intention of finishing that sentence, dropped her gaze to her hand in his. “I wish I fit better in your life, so when people see us together they’d just accept it without questioning why.”

“Why do you care what they think, Bambi?”

She bit her bottom lip, thinking for a second. “I’m trying not to. It’s hard.”

A smile stretched his lips as he leaned in, stroked his thumb across her cheek and kissed her mouth lightly. Her lashes fluttered when he pulled away.

“The little prince has a flower, right?” he asked.

“Yes, he has a rose,” she said with a pensive expression. “The only one on his planet.”

He nodded once. “If I remember correctly, she’s a very beautiful flower. She shows off her thorns and puts on a superior attitude, but is actually a sensitive little thing and doesn’t like to expose her vulnerability.”

“Oh no, I’m the flower,” she gasped, making him chuckle.

He brushed her hair out of her face and went on, “When the prince comes to the earth, he finds himself in a garden with hundreds of roses, all as gorgeous as the one he loves.”

She continued for him, “But he still thinks his rose is unique and more important than all of the other roses together.”

“Yes.” He propped himself up on an elbow to lie on his side. “And why is that?”

“Because he loves her, and he knows she loves him, too,” she said while caressing his face with the back of her hand.

“That’s right.” He nodded again. “Most people think the prince is stupid for travelling from planet to planet for a rose, but he doesn’t care what they think. No matter where he is, he always thinks about his little flower. He fell in love with her when he was little and has spent his whole life watering and caring for her. Love comes from investing in other people, isn’t it?”

Her smile widened as she combed her fingers through his hair, and her cheeks bloomed with colours when she drew him in and kissed him deeply. He melted from the intensity of her lips as his hands smoothed down her arm, squeezed her behind, and pulled her as close as he could. The hardness of his body against her softness. Adrenaline coursed through his veins. The butterflies in his stomach. He was spiralling out of control.

“I’m crazy about you,” he muttered against her lips and threaded his fingers in her locks. “I don’t care how different we are. When I first said I love you, I promised I’d stay. So I’m yours as long as you still want me, Bambi.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled as she wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled his cheek. “I want you forever. Can you handle that?”

He drew her closer, and their bodies came flush together. “Forever and ever, baby,” he said before kissing her again.

#my girl series

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yinyangswings · 4 years

Note

Same anon who requested headcanons is MC being the WQ’s daughter. Maybe nothing older than mid teens? Sorry if that’s not specific enough...

Sure thing Anon!! Here you go! there is more in the read more!

General

The WQ sent her child at a very young age to Chicago. Not out motherly love, but as a backup in case she fell during battle. Very few people knew she had a child, so it was rather easy

In her eyes she’s nothing more than a pawn to use for later

MC was found abandoned with apparently no memory of her parents, as all she said was her mother was a queen.

She was raised in a foster family with a lot of foster siblings going in and out of the house. Due to the mass amount of kids, she learned to take care of herself.

Sophie is someone who lives nearby and becomes friendly with her, even with the age difference.

She was returning back from school when she was struck by lightning.

She’s around 10 years old

When she looks around in the Fantasy Realm, she realizes that this is like in her dreams that she’s had for years.

Obviously there is no romance.

August Falke

August just stares at this tiny girl that looks so much like the WQ it’s not even funny...but she’s a child.

She’s younger than Heloise for Gods’ sake!

She may be far too young to be the WQ, but there can’t be any denials of her sudden appearance in the village, nor can there be any denials of who she looks like. He takes her to the castle, but isn’t as angry or mean about it.

The first night, she just breaks down and starts crying. She tries to be as quiet as possible, because she doesn’t want to piss August off, because he’s already annoyed that she chose him to stick with. August’s shield breaks a little, because all he can see is one of his sisters crying. While he doesn’t relent, he does comfort her a little and that helps her get to sleep.

Alain kidnapping her sends him into big-brother-panic-mode. Like he wants to go after them right away, and barely stops himself. It’s really Reiner who makes him stop so they can make a plan. And when they do rescue her, he barely lets her go when they make their escape.

The second attempt pisses him the hell off. He starts her training on the sword for defense.

While she runs away after the Ice Crystal incident, she doesn’t actually start heading to the WQ castle. She’s actually snatched by some of the WQ soldiers. She has to play the part of the WQ, and states that she was cursed in a child’s body.

How she manages that, she has no idea. She’s sure that August and the others aren’t going to come for her. It plays out pretty similarly to what happens, though she does explain she never intended to go too far.

She’s honestly thrown when she meets August’s mother and sister. Asta becomes protective of her in an instant and treats her like one of her own children. It’s actually pretty overwhelming for MC, because while the foster home was alright...it wasn’t exactly the most caring of places.

She breaks down because of it.

When August takes her to the Falke Inn he almost considers leaving her there, but ultimately decides to take her to the capital.

She panics when she’s sent back to Chicago because she has no way of knowing how to get back. The first person she thinks to look for is Sophie, and she realizes the foster home didn’t even notice she was gone for a week. Sophie agrees to help her back

When she does, she works on getting August better

When WQ curses her, it stuns August and infuriates him. He knew the WQ was evil. It’s not a surprise. But the fact that she cursed her own daughter, a child to die a slow and painful death just flabbergasts him.

Returning her to Chicago, he initially wants to leave her there, until he sees how her foster family is, and decides he can’t do that to her.

He decides to take her as his squire

Saerys

He has mixed feelings about this girl.

Her mother destroyed his people, mass genocide. But in all likelihood she was an infant, or a young child at that point. For all he knows, she might not have even been in this world when WQ destroyed the demon race.

MC is really quiet around him for a long time. It’s not until Solaire corners him that he learns she’s quiet around him because she’s scared he hates her for what her mother did to his people.

She wouldn’t blame him if he did.

It takes a little while for him to come around to her, but he does get protective of her.

Turbo mode initially attacks her, but stops just before actually hurting her.

She still chases after him when he runs away, before she decides to go to WQ's castle to see if she can find some answers. And boy does she.

She’s stunned by the fact that her mother decided she would use her as a holder for her soul. She knew her mother didn’t love her...but still.

Saerys is not pleased when he learns of this.

It’s bad enough her crazed climb for power killed his race, but to use her own child in this just proves how mad she is.

They’re both protective of each other for different reasons. Saerys begins to train her in self-defense.

MC nearly dying cuts her mother’s connection to her. But there is no soul splitting.

Saerys becomes like a big brother to MC

The demon souls eventually see her as their youngling, which is kind of...weird...to Saerys and MC but as long as they don’t try to kill her Saerys puts up with it

Altea Bellerose

She’s stunned to see the girl. She’s so young. That means that she had to have been born at least right before all this madness had started or at the beginning.

It’s unsettling to her. She was young when she entered the war against WQ, but this is...this is wrong.

She does several non-invasive spells to see if this isn’t a trick to get Reiner’s guard down.

Afterwards, MC follows her around, confused but still trusting her.

She’s really curious about magic. Not like she can do it, but it’s still cool looking to watch. Altea smiles and doesn’t mind letting the girl watch.

She decides if the girl does develop magical abilities like her mother, she’ll teach her how to control them.

She’ll be more accepting than her parents were, that’s a fact.

Speaking of meeting her parents...it’s...a bit awkward. Because hoo boy, the parents automatically think the girl is somehow Altea’s biological daughter and the screaming gets really loud. MC’s confused, Altea’s embarrassed. It’s all in all...very awkward.

At least Lionel likes MC

Reiner Wolfson

To say he’s stunned when Altea brings the 10 year old girl into his study is an understatement. She looks absolutely terrified, but is trying to not fully panic.

It doesn’t take him long to basically adopt her, much to her surprise. The retainers aren’t as surprised, though some of them object a little due to the worry of this being a trick by WQ.

MC has a bit of difficulty getting used to him. It’s not like her foster father was exactly attentive. He had to work. So it throws her when Reiner actually asks her questions about herself and her interests.

Eventually she starts to let her guard down, still unsure what is going on, but finding that Reiner is actually pretty fatherly. Better than her foster father and probably better than her actual father.

Ryland is very much protective of her and is like an older brother to MC.

She doesn’t remember her own dad, barely remembers her mother (which is probably a good thing), and the foster parents were...well they were there. Having someone actually take an interest in her and listen to her is a new concept.

Reiner is protective of her. It doesn’t matter that she’s the WQ’s daughter, although it is worrying. She’s a child. She’s not her mother. And he intends to make sure she never becomes like her mother.

In Chicago, MC runs into Reiner as she’s getting off a subway and nearly falls because of a hurrying business man. Reiner catches her before she hurts herself.

He’s a little alarmed at how protective he is of a girl he’s never apparently met. He’s a college professor, and he’s sure he would recognize a ten year old in his classes

His alarm shifts when he drops her off at the foster home. They hadn’t even realized she was gone for a few hours (which is actually longer). Leaving her there seems more of a danger and it hurts Reiner for some inexplicable reason

Reiner winds up going to the courts and asking to foster her. This breaks the curse on him.

He doesn’t fully adopt her in Chicago, because that takes too much time and they don’t have that time. He formally adopts her in the Fantasy Realm

Which winds up making her a defacto princess when Reiner is declared King

Which opens up a completely different can of very large worms. She’s the WQ’s daughter. Someone who coveted the throne...what if that had been her plan

MC doesn’t really care about a crown or a throne, and makes it very clear on that. She doesn’t want to be like her mother.

And the retainers/Reiner make it very clear to not go near that topic or go after MC because things will happen to them if they attack the girl. Bad things. Like really, really bad things.

Defeating her mother hurts, and losing Ishara hurts because that was the closest person she had to a motherly figure. She begins to heal, just like the land

Iseul Idreis

He...really doesn’t know what to say or do. In his very long life, he’s never come across something like this.

He doesn’t want the responsibility of the girl, knowing full well what the implications of this. Reluctantly he accepts Reiner’s order.

Slowly she and he bond, and he treats her like an annoying little sister.

Meeting his mother is nerve-wracking to say the least. She doesn’t have the greatest luck with meeting mothers, hers included.

Ishara however is incredibly sympathetic to the girl and is protective of her. Also...a sort of grandchild

Iseul blushes at that and is very embarrassed. MC didn’t hear so she has no idea what was said and Iseul refuses to explain why his sisters are cackling and he looks about ready to jump off a cliff.

Speaking of cliffs…

MC blames herself for his perceived death and withdraws from a lot of people. Ishara is there to comfort her.

Iseul has a whole lot of explaining and bribing MC with sweets to get her to forgive him for that

Ishara and Iseul plan on having her drink from the well when she’s a little older

Helena Klein

Helena knew of MC prior to this, though not in big detail. Whenever she asked WQ, she was greeted with pain and punishment.

She stops asking after a certain point

When MC arrives, of course Helena initially thinks she’s the WQ just aged down. MC tells her over and over again she isn’t.

Eventually Helena believes her and realizes she’s the child that the WQ had refused to talk about.

She also realizes the girl is in far more danger now

That is her primary reason for escaping with the girl. If the WQ comes back...the girl will probably not survive

MC is incredibly protective of Helena, especially when she finds out what her mother did to her.

She feels guilty for looking like her mother, because Helena doesn’t deserve seeing a mirror of her mother. Helena is quick to assure her that she doesn’t fear her.

It’s strange for Helena to be in the Human realm. She doesn’t complain, especially when she sees MC seeming to come out of her shell.

Losing Alain breaks something in Helena and MC switches roles from being a child to being the adult and comforting Helena

It’s strange, but she does it

When Helena is in Chicago, and forgets everything MC asks Sophie to watch over her because she’s too old to be in the foster home and she doesn’t have anywhere to go.

When she finally remembers, she is pissed at where MC is. Basically drags MC away.

When they return to Chicago after everything, Helena plans on adopting MC so she can be raised right. It doesn’t matter what she has to do to make it work. She will.

Alain Richter

He remembers finding out WQ was pregnant. He doesn’t know who the father was, though he had an inkling it was someone from the high King’s council.

He doesn’t like to think that there is a chance the child could have been his.

WQ told him that she had been killed, which added to his loyalty to her and hatred to the others because they killed an innocent child

When he sees MC, he just knows who she is. And realizes what the WQ had done.

He’s far more protective of her. MC starts seeing him as a fatherly figure.

It throws him that’s for sure. The woman he loved, and swore loyalty to is gone, but the child, her child is there.

He swears loyalty to her and protects her the best he can.

Something in him snaps when WQ orders him to kill off MC. The lie she told him about MC years before comes back and he realizes that she will do to ensure she will win

When he reaches the Human Realm, he doesn’t fight. He doesn’t even really care if he’s executed for his crimes. His only request is that she's protected. She wasn’t involved with the crimes that he did for the WQ.

That throws Reiner and the retainers off as they look at this girl who is trying to be as small as possible.

He’s surprised when Reiner allows them to stay, just without weapons and he can still watch over MC.

He begins training her in self-defense.

Her mother comes to reclaim her daughter, something that terrifies Alain. Reiner protecting the girl makes Alain realize she would always be safer there than with her mother

The Libra thing is so much a magical girl anime that it isn’t even funny to MC, but she manages to do it.

Alain decides to adopt her.

He couldn’t save her mother...but he won’t fail the girl.

#lovestruck #lovestruck headcanons #love and legends #love and legends headcanons #reiner wolfson #august falke #altea bellerose #iseul idreis #helena klein #alain richter #saerys #jamfics

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iturbide · 4 years

Note

One of the things that upsets me about 3h’s writing is the existence of Edelgard’s siblings is actually dubious. She said she only became heir because all her other siblings were dead or insane. She wasn’t the heir or the spare yet no one else talks about her siblings. When an heir disappears, people talk. And it’s not like all the kids were the same age, there would’ve been several pregnancies. The only proof the kids exist is because Edelgard said it and she’s not above lying to others.

Okay, I have seen that theory before, and for as much as I take issue with Edelgard, I personally think that theory is complete bullshit.

[[MORE]]

Edelgard is a woman of remarkable composure. Even before the timeskip, she is very cool, very guarded, showing minimal emotion (most of which seems to be for show, providing the expected response for the benefit of those around her). There are only a handful of occasions where we see her slip, see her truly and deeply shaken -- and one of those times is associated with her speaking about her family. I’m not going to deny that Edelgard is a very capable liar, but she was very obviously disturbed by the dream that brought on the conversation, and I don’t think even she could cobble together a lie that fast under those circumstances.

Also, let’s talk for a moment about just how Edelgard lies. Her lies are primarily comprised of minor changes to information (”The Church used forbidden magic to destroy Arianrhod” only replaces the perpetrator, not the details), denials of knowledge (she says she has no knowledge of where Flayn is when she does), or omission of information (not telling Byleth that she’s the Flame Emperor despite having several opportunities to do so). She’s not stupid: lies fabricated whole-cloth require careful construction, often require the same amount of repetition and practice a trained actor would require for a stage role, and in general are really hard to maintain. Tailoring a lie from truth is much easier and caries significantly less risk. Under the circumstances, I don’t think Edelgard could have concocted such a lie, and especially not such a powerful one.

It’s also worth mentioning that Lysithea describes an almost identical series of events taking place in Ordelia territory after House Hrym’s revolt:

Eighteen years ago, House Ordelia was involved in a civil conflict within the Empire. All we did was respond to a call for aid. We weren't involved politically. But once the rebellion was crushed, my family was held responsible for the aid we gave, and the Empire gained some sway over us as a result. At the time, the noble houses of the Alliance took a passive stance. No one lent aid to my family. As a result, some key officials within the family were killed, and people from the Empire were sent to replace them. Among those people were some mysterious mages. They were...unsettling, in a word. Skin pale as death. One after another, they captured and imprisoned the children of our household. They began performing terrible rituals on the children... Though it's probably more accurate to call them experiments.

With the Empire monitoring our every move, my parents could do nothing but watch in horror as all of this unfolded. One after another, the children died, until the only one left...was me. You know, my hair wasn't always this color. During their experiments, they'd been doing things with my blood. One morning, I awoke like this — a shock of white hair, all trace of pigment, gone. Upon seeing me, the mages were delighted. They realized that their experiments had finally succeeded. Sure enough, they ran a test and saw that two Crests coexisted within me. Losing pigment from my hair wasn't the only loss. The mages informed me that my lifespan was now greatly shortened. Five more years at most. Perhaps less.

Shortly thereafter, the mages lost interest in me, and we never saw them in the Ordelia household again.

This is pretty much exactly what happened to Edelgard: young members of the household taken captive and experimented on by a mysterious group of masked mages, no aid from outside, parents forced to bear witness as their children died en masse. Nobody calls bullshit on Lysithea’s story -- so why are people trying to call Edelgard a liar? Lysithea and Edelgard’s B support doesn’t unlock until after Byleth makes the choice to side with Edelgard, and their C support makes no mention at all of the experiments, so Edelgard couldn’t have learned it from Lysithea and used it for herself. The experiments on House Ordelia were the precursor to the experiments in Adrestia, and their loss of interest very likely ties in with them moving on to bigger things -- namely the Imperial lineage and their attempts to imbue the Crest of Flames within a Hresvelg heir.

And this ties into the next point: why nobody talks about it. And that boils down to propaganda.

Propaganda relies very heavily on control of information. And empires in general have an ongoing propaganda campaign related to their ruling families: that these are immensely powerful people blessed by gods, goddesses, saints, what have you, and ruling by divine right. This is especially true in the Empire, where their imperial lineage traces its roots back to Wilhelm von Hresvelg, who forged a pact with Seiros. Now, in the Empire, an absolute premium is placed on the presence of a Crest -- to the detriment of all else, including human life. Hanneman’s sister lost her life and Mercedes’ family was ripped apart all because of the extreme Crest bias present in the Imperial territories. But with Ionius, there was an even bigger issue: his ‘Divine Right to Rule’ is intrinsically linked to the Crest of Seiros, the physical proof of his bloodline’s pact with the Saint.

And that bloodline is fading fast.

In Edelgard’s B+ support with Byleth, she says this:

My siblings and I were...we were imprisoned underground, beneath the palace. The objective was to endow our bodies with the power of a Major Crest. I have always possessed the Crest of Seiros, inherited through the Hresvelg bloodline. But it was only a Minor Crest, and most of my siblings bore no Crest at all. In order to create a peerless emperor to rule Fódlan, they violated our bodies by cutting open our very flesh. Now here I stand, the fruit of that endeavor: Edelgard von Hresvelg! But that came at too high a price...the others were sacrificed. Ours weren’t the only lives devastated by that terrible process. Innocents died as well, without even knowing what they were dying for. And there you have it, the truth of the Hresvelg’s Empire.

Out of eleven children Ionius IX sired, only a few bore any kind of Crest (and we don’t know if they were even the Crest of Seiros). The fact that Edelgard’s Crest was a Minor one rather than a Major one also seems to have been a point of contention. Which makes sense: in a territory that relies so heavily on Crests as signs of legitimacy, having a Crest appear so infrequently in the Emperor’s progeny would be a frankly alarming sign of weakness. So I would not be at all surprised if Ionius had been carefully controlling the information moving from the Imperial household to the wider Empire...such that they didn’t know how many kids he really had.

Unlike the Kingdom, where Lambert only had one wife at any given time and whose pregnancies would therefore be talk of the Kingdom since she’s a public figure, the Empire allows (and perhaps even encourages) the use of consorts. And immediately after being crowned, Ionius started seeking out suitable ones -- but their identities were not required to be public knowledge. Sure, the wider Imperial household would have been aware, and it’s likely that the heads of some major noble houses with a presence in the palace knew, as well -- though even they may have been tight-lipped about it with their families to control the spread of information (and this has in-game precedence, given that Ferdinand von Aegir has no idea what happened with Hrym or why people hate his dad so much). But the only Empire-wide announcements came with the birth of children who actually possessed Crests. And even then, it’s entirely likely that Edelgard’s place in the line of succession might have been superseded had one of her younger siblings borne a Major Crest of Seiros.

(If this seems far-fetched, I think Alexei Romanov makes a striking point of comparison here: the youngest child and only son of the Romanov Dynasty, he was set to become the next Tsar of Russia -- because his hemophilia was a closely guarded state secret. It might be common knowledge now, but the Russian public had no idea what was really wrong with him.)

Now, we don’t know a lot of details for this particular time period. We know Edelgard had ten siblings, but we don’t know if Ionius kept trying to sire heirs and had no success (issues with impotency, miscarriages, etc) or stopped trying and took a different tack. What we do know is that he instigated a series of reforms meant to concentrate the Emperor’s power. We don’t know why he did it, but it’s entirely possible that he was trying to look out for his kids and pave the way for more radical reforms that would do away with the Crest bias as a form of choosing ‘legitimate’ heirs to the throne. But whatever his plan might have been, it backfired terribly on him and led to the Insurrection of the Seven, where the Emperor was stripped of all power and his kids were subjected to Twisted experiments, likely initiated when they replaced Lord Arundel and had him float the idea to Duke Aegir -- and once again, that control of information even within families is out in force, because the nobles now controlling the empire probably don’t want it to be common knowledge that they’re committing atrocities for the sake of making a perfect figurehead.

In the end, every one of Edelgard’s siblings died. And because the people of the Empire didn’t know about them? She can’t even mourn them publicly. The Empire has no inkling of the great tragedy that occurred within House Hresvelg, and that only further fuels the lone survivor’s desire to make sure that nothing like this can ever happen again.

#answered #anonymous #fire emblem: three houses #fe:3h spoilers #headcanon #look i have thought a lot about this #and while i might not really like edelgard for what she does #there's a frankly shocking amount of evidence supporting her #once you start putting the pieces together it's a really ugly picture #edelcourse

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xoxardnekoxo · 4 years

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Movie Review: Mulan (2020)

WARNING: SPOILERS AHEAD!

Ah, Mulan. One of my all-time favorite Disney movies. I loved it so much I had a life-size plush Mushu, a Disney Beanie Baby talking Mushu, a Mulan Barbie, every action figure made, a chirping Crikee, and even a Mushu/Crikee alarm clock. It’s no surprise that when Disney announced a live action version of this movie, I was all over it. The three-time delay in theaters due to the pandemic was disappointing, but then again, so was having to pay $30 on top of a monthly fee I already pay for Disney+.

When the movie was first announced, we knew right away that three things would be lacking that were in the beloved cartoon:

1. Mushu 2. Shang 3. Songs

I immediately jumped on this band wagon at the announcement of no Mushu:

Supposedly the actual country of China strongly disliked Disney’s animated interpretation of an actual legend from their homeland. I don’t know the full details, but I do know that with that in mind, Disney wanted to make the live action version of the movie more authentic to the actual story. This really wasn’t meant to be a remake of the cartoon, but a more accurate take on real events.

I know it’s Disney and that usually means music, but honestly, I’m okay with no songs. I outgrew musicals 15+ years ago. I was even okay with no Shang (but it makes no sense when there is an obvious, if unfulfilled, love interest in this version as well).

Much as I love Mushu, I was still eager to see this movie because I’m a fan of Asian culture in general and was curious to see how this movie would play out. Imagine my surprise when I learned that this version would consist of a phoenix and a witch.

How is that any different than a dragon? Is it because dragons are kind of sacred to the Chinese? A phoenix is similar - it’s a bird that is reborn from fire. And a witch? I highly doubt that actually happened in the original story. Did it? I don’t know, but my point remains.

Unlike the cartoon, Mulan in this adaptation knows quite a bit about combat already. We can see her as a child using her skills quite often, and her father tells her to contain her (strong) chi. Speaking of chi, it’s mentioned quite a lot in this movie. Apparently what makes Mulan such a strong/good fighter and leader is her strong chi. Chi is mentioned so much all I could think of was this:

(Chobits anime)

Mulan doesn’t have her dog (Little Brother) in this movie, but she does have a little sister. Interestingly enough, the original story depicts her as having a younger brother, but he was too young to fight. So if Disney was going for accuracy, they still could have gone that route and stayed true to the source material.

As with the cartoon, Mulan does meet the matchmaker, but she doesn’t go in alone. She goes in with her mother and sister, the latter of which is terrified of spiders. Instead of a lucky cricket causing a catastrophe during this “audition,” a spider decides to scurry in and scare the younger sister, prompting the cacophony. So really, it’s the sister’s fault Mulan brings dishonor in the matchmaker’s eyes.

Mulan’s father is frequently chastised by her mother for encouraging her boy-like behavior. “She is your daughter, not your son.” Rude. But remember, this is a different era. The only way a female could bring honor to her family was to be a good wife and bear sons. Still, harsh.

So we all know what happens next. One man from every family has to join in a fight against some turd determined to take over the empire, in this case one who is using a witch to help him, and Mulan takes her father’s place since she fears for his life. But she has good reason to - the poor guy needs help walking and even her mother said he won’t return from battle this time. Way to sugar-coat it, lady.

So we get to the men’s camp... no wait, first, we get lost and a phoenix (symbolic, since it appears no one else is able to see it at all) shows up to guide Mulan to where she needs to go. Yes, instead of asking the ancestors for help, her father asked the family guardian (phoenix) to watch over her. Okay.

Eventually we get to a large tent shared by all the soldiers. Yes, this time, they don’t all get their own individual tent. And of course, all the men are running around half dressed, throwing things at each other, rough-housing, you know the drill. It’s especially amusing when one of them loses his towel and Mulan immediately closes her eyes and cringes.

Then the commander asks for a night guard volunteer. Mulan proceeds to volunteer for this every night to avoid having to shower with the men. Too bad they all start to notice the smell. Funny, in the cartoon, Mulan absolutely did not want to smell like a man at all. It takes her quite some time before she’s able to sneak into the river to bathe. Too bad one of the guys decides to follow her in and she has to hide herself. :D

During training, rules and penalties are revealed, and the penalty for pretty much doing anything wrong is death. Except one thing - dishonesty. Dishonesty brings expulsion from the army as well as dishonor to the family. Don’t talk to a woman or you’ll die, but pour out some water to make the buckets lighter during a strength exercise and get humiliated.

So we eventually get to a big battle scene with all the flying arrows, and Mulan, of course, winds up by herself fighting the witch. The witch can obviously tell that Mulan is hiding her true self, so she’s all, “You’re going to die pretending to be something you’re not.” Then something pierces the wrap Mulan uses to hide her chest and she decides the best course of action is to go back to her comrades as her female self. The whole “big reveal” scene is her taking her hair down (which she does not cut with a sword by the way - in fact, she doesn’t cut it at all) and walking out of the fog and introducing herself. To me, that was very anti-climactic.

The cherry on top of that is when, after being expelled from the army for dishonesty (weird though, another rule was to not consort with women at all and yet she actually IS a woman and isn’t killed), she returns to the camp and the men immediately accept her for who she is because she’s all, “The emperor is in danger and I know how to save him.”

So the commander allows her to lead a group of men into the Imperial City to save the emperor, who is quite a warrior himself - he breaks out his armor to fight the Hun (not Shan-Yu, I don’t even remember what his name is this time), then Mulan shows up and of course she and the witch team up because, hey, why not? They’re both misunderstood women always being told to stay in their place, except the witch is controlled by the Hun and Mulan is free.

The witch can transform into a hawk or something like that (probably a shout out to Shan-Yu’s pet from the cartoon) and she actually flies in front of Mulan to save her from getting pierced by an arrow. So of course she dies in our protagonist’s arms and is all, “Take your place.” And of course, as expected, Mulan saves the day. And let me just say, how many times can one possibly kick an arrow and send it flying straight toward a designated target? It happens at least five times in this movie, and just once is a one in a million shot. Yeah, cool effect, but totally not accurate, Disney. I thought that was the whole point of this movie - more accuracy to the source content. And you also wanted to appease China. Too bad it didn’t work this time around, either.

The movie ends with Mulan being offered a position on the emperor’s army (nice cameo by Ming-Na Wen, the original voice of Mulan from the cartoon!), but she chooses to go back home - where her sister has been matched to someone who isn’t afraid of spiders.

Yay! Then Mulan’s commander and some other guys show up and offer her the same job the emperor did, only in front of her entire village, so everyone knows she has now brought honor to her family and the country, prompting the matchmaker to faint because she was proven wrong.

So then she does take the job after all, and that’s pretty much the end. Shang isn’t in the movie but there is one fellow soldier she seems to have fun with in practice combat, and he’s super eager to accept her as a woman, even saying she’s the best soldier they’ve got. But nothing comes of that - the two part ways as friends, but honestly, I think it’s okay in these circumstances. Throwing a love story into this rendition just wouldn’t work.

So all in all, not a bad movie, but I think I probably should have waited until it was available on regular Disney+ or DVD instead of spending $30 on premiere access. But I would have spent that going to the theater anyway, so I guess it’s not so bad. I do know a lot of people absolutely hated this movie and it’s gotten bad reviews. I didn’t mind it, but I think my favorite live-action Disney movie so far is Aladdin. This one is probably in second place, though. I think the reason people dislike it so much is that there are so many things missing that were in the cartoon. But again, this is not meant to be a remake of the cartoon - it’s meant to be a more accurate version. But you just can’t make everyone happy.

Overall, I’d give the movie a 7/10. It could have been better, could have been worse. I still prefer the cartoon but it was interesting to see this version as well. Now to see what other live action movies get made... and we’ll see if The Little Mermaid can beat this with a black Ariel. I think I should audition for the role of Snow White - I have the short hair, pale skin, and am always talking to animals. If Ariel can be black, Snow White can be fat!

#xoxardnekoxo #Movie Review #Mulan #Mulan 2020 #Mushu #Shang #Li Shang #Crikee #Disney #spoiler alert #Disney princess

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solohux · 5 years

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@anonymous submitted: Techie and the Pilot

Brendol Hux, Jr --Better known as “Techie” to the few people aware of his existence-- younger brother of General Armitage Hux, had been watching the Resistance Pilot undergo interrogation. He hated that his older brother allowed prisoners to be tortured on his ship, it reminded him of his own miserable existence before the elder Hux had rescued him.

But whenever he had brought up his concerns to “Armie”, his brother brushed him off! He would feed him the same old lies about how “Prisoners who undergo interrogation usually have sensitive information that we need brother, we simply don’t have the time to allow them to tell us what they know at their own leisure.” or “I designed the standard interrogation protocol myself Bren, I like to think that it’s quite humane.”

Frankly, Techie failed to see how allowing droids to shock people or inject them with all manner of potentially dangerous medications was “humane”.

Occasionally the older of the Hux brothers even had the gall to say “Truly I can’t see how it even matters. Every prisoner is eventually reconditioned anyway, so what bad experiences they may have had while being interrogated would be wiped away entirely.”

Techie just thought that was missing the point he was trying to make.

And so, the younger Hux brother had largely given up on trying to convince his brother that torture was wrong. But that did not mean he had stopped caring about those who were tortured. In the beginning, he had tried to ignore them. But he was the eyes and ears of The Finalizer, nothing happened on that ship without him being aware of it. However he may have tried, he would always be drawn back to the interrogation wing. Seeing the prisoners struggle in their restraints, hearing their screams….

How could he not feel terribly sorry for them, yet also compelled to watch over them?

Which is what he had been doing for Poe Dameron. Techie had quickly been impressed by the pilots stubborn spirit, he’d never seen someone hold out so long against the torture droid before! Of course, all prisoners eventually break, but the fact that Kylo Ren had to be called in to literally steal the needed information out of Poe’s head had Techie cheering for him! It was just a shame that such an inspiring prisoner was going to mind-wiped and then tossed into the closest Tie-Fighter to do battle against his comrades afterwards. Yes, such a shame indeed.

Then a Stormtrooper turned traitor, freed the pilot under false pretenses and the two of them started making their way towards the closest hanger.

Techie could not believe what he was seeing! Something like this had never happened before! Even though he usually considered himself a realist --In actuality most would consider Techie a pessimist, although he could hardly be blamed for being one considering all that he had been put through-- he found himself feeling optimistic about the ‘Trooper and Pilot’s chances of escape.

His brother would be left in such a terribly bad mood afterwards, but Techie secretly just thought it would serve him right.

Only…. The ‘Trooper and the Pilot didn’t escape. They came close, so wonderfully close to freedom. But they had been spotted outside the hanger door by one of the Stormtroopers squad mates, apparently a squad mate with a bone to pick, because that ‘Trooper hadn’t listened to anything the other ‘Trooper said in lieu of explaining himself. Of course the other Stormtrooper raised the alarm, he was only doing what he had been trained to do.

Still, Techie felt quite crushed watching the ‘Trooper and the Pilot bolt off in opposite directions as they began to be surrounded. The Stormtrooper even had the misfortune of running straight into the fearsome Captain Phasma’s arms! Poor ‘Trooper, Techie knew he was a lost cause now.

Yet the Pilot…. Somehow avoided being caught! He weaved through the crowd expertly and even managed to lose his pursuers by cleverly dashing through a set of adjoining hallways! Clearly he had some experience in getting himself out of sticky situations and maybe just maybe Techie was getting a little crush on him.

No matter, Techie could no longer sit back and watch the Pilot eventually be chased down like some animal. He would help him. Techie had never interfered with an escaped prisoner beforehand, but he found it rather easy to do so.

Any door the Pilot wanted through? Techie opened it for him. Any hallway restricted to certain crew members? Techie allowed the Pilot to run down it, but stopped the search party looking for him from doing so.

Which is how the Pilot found himself huddled in an alcove just a short distance from Techie’s command room. Techie could see that the poor man was about to collapse from exhaustion and looked rather sorry for himself, clearly he couldn’t keep running away anymore. He needed a place to recuperate for a bit.

From there it was a simple matter of using the intercom system to quietly steer the Pilot towards Techie’s door. As soon as the Pilot opened it, Techie grabbed him and hauled him inside. The Pilot understandably didn’t appreciate that --He still had some fight left in him after all!-- but Techie managed to calm him down and assure him that he was a friend and would not harm him.

By this time the poor man --Whose name was Poe, Techie almost couldn’t get enough of how satisfying that name sounded in his mouth-- was feeling his previous torture catch up with him and crashed out on Techie’s door as soon as he was nudged towards it. He slept for almost an entire day before he woke up again. Techie spent that time tending to his wounds, gazing at him admiringly and snuggling during the few hours of sleep he managed to get.

Poe woke up confused, but grateful for the hospitality nonetheless. Especially when Techie fetched some food and water for him.

Poe proved to be a chatterbox, which pleased Techie as he himself was a man of few words who preferred to listen to other people speak. Poe asked a number of difficult questions though:- “Where exactly on the ship are we?”, “What happened to that Stormtrooper who tried to help me escape?”, “Who are you?”, “What are you doing here?”.

Techie’s inability to convincely lie and evasive answers only gave Poe the wrong idea. He came to believe that Techie was also a prisoner of The First Order! And a long-term one at that, given how withdrawn he was and how resigned to his situation he seemed. He didn’t even dare ask about Techie’s false eyes, assuming that The First Order had tortured him via removing his real ones in order to get him to work for them.

Clearly the right thing to do was take Techie with him once he recovered his strength and escaped. He had failed the Stormtrooper, but he wouldn’t fail this sweet, kind-natured and vulnerable man!

Techie was oblivious to his pilots, thought process. But still rather smitten with him. He drank in Poe’s stories of daring escapes from evil-doers and of his loving childhood home. He was delighted when Poe found his collection of copper wire animals while trying to stumble his way to the bathroom, as the pilot complimented them! Poe even showed genuine interest in Techie’s workstation, curiously asking what button did what.

They even shared food and the same bed together again come the ships night-cycle!

As far as Techie was concerned, it was the second best day of his life.

But all good things come to an end.

And Poe and Techie’s comfortable inhabitation with one another ended rather suddenly early in the next day-cycle.

Namely thanks to General Hux bursting in on them! Hux had come to his brother in desperation. No matter how many patrols he sent out, nor how much of the ship he turned over, the Resistance Pilot was nowhere to be found! Kylo Ren could have found him, but that damned Force User had blasted down to Jakku to capture the previously mentioned Pilot’s droid almost as soon as he was aware of the thing having hold of the map that would lead him straight to his old Master, Luke Skywalker.

And apparently the droid and some scavenger girl who had taken a liking to it where leading the Leader of the Knights of Ren on quite a merry chase all over the planet! Or something of that description, Ren never told him more of his missions than the bare minimum.

The Supreme Leader of The First Order could’ve also found the Pilot, but Hux wasn’t of the mind to “bother” him with a relatively trivial task.

So his beloved baby brother was his only hope of finding the Rebel Scum before he did anything to damage his ship! It had been nearly three days now, who knew what the urchin could be up to?!

So when Hux opened Techie’s door and found his brother standing next to the Pilot, the General’s first thought was that the Rebel Scum had taken Techie hostage! He reacted instantly. He drew his personal blaster out and demanded that if the Pilot wanted to live, he would unhand his brother!

“Hux: You’ve made a mistake Rebel Scum, release my brother from your custody before I blow your head off.”

“Poe: What?”

Fortunately, Techie was also a quick thinker and attempted to explain the situation before anyone got hurt!

“Techie: Armie no! It’s not what you think! He’s my friend!”

“Poe: “Armie”?”

Hux naturally didn’t believe his brother’s explanation, assuming that the Pilot had threatened him in order to get him to say that. Or by some miracle, had managed to actually convince Techie that he wasn’t really a terrorist and just happened to want to be friends with General Hux’s brother.

“Hux: He is not your friend Bren! He’s a murderous scoundrel who would not hesitate to end you if it benefited him! But it’s alright, I’m here now. I’ll have you out of his clutches soon enough.”

“Poe: Anyone want to tell me what the kriff is going on? Because I’m honestly lost here.”

It was a cut and dry Mexican Stand-off. Techie couldn’t convince Hux that Poe wasn’t holding him hostage. Hux didn’t believe that Techie wasn’t being harmed by being in the mere presence of Poe. And Poe was just really confused by the idea that General Hux not only had a brother, but was apparently holding him prisoner for the benefit of The First Order!

Eventually Techie burst into tears and started sobbing, pleading with Hux to not kill his first friend in years --And first love interest ever!--. During which Poe turned around to give Techie a hug, which left him wide open to Hux’s blaster. Although perhaps Hux had heard some of his brother’s pleas, because he merely stunned Poe as opposed to shooting him dead as he had threatened to do so earlier.

Naturally this only left Techie more distraught.

After Hux checked Techie over to assure himself that his little brother wasn’t hurt and then reassured Techie that Poe wasn’t dead…. Techie did calm down a little bit.

Then he asked an odd question.

“Techie: *Sniffling* Can I keep him Armie? I’m lonely here and I really like him.”

Hux was going to refuse just on principal, but one look at the younger Hux brother’s tear-stained face gave him pause.

“Hux: Only if you allow me to recondition him first.”

And that is where our story ends. You can decide if Techie agrees to his brother’s compromise or holds out on Poe retaining his actual personality!

#submission #clan techie #poe dameron #pilottech #poetech #oh my gosh my heart!!!#id want poe to retain his personality!!! and his memories and autonomy!!#maybe he can convince techie to run away from the order????#regardless of the ending #this was so amazing!! thank you so much for sharing!!

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freddiedearfriend · 5 years

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Plus One - A Night at the Fandom “Secret Santa” Gift!

This is my gift for @brianmays-badgers for @dtfrogertaylor‘s A Night at the Fandom event! This story ended up quite different from what I set out to do, but I’m kind of into it. It’s less “enemies to lovers” like I intended and more “Reader is a badass who doesn’t take shit from men.” I hope you like it! 🐛💖

Plus One

Gwilym Lee x F!Reader

Word count: 4.3k

Rating: Explicit

A/N: No offense to any Caitlins out there! Also, this is actually the first fic I’ve ever completed (let alone posted online) and I have no beta reader so I’d love to hear your honest opinion, criticisms and all! Like for real, I know I have a lot of room for improvement so I’d love to hear what you liked and what you think could be better.

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It had been a while since you felt so relaxed. School was just as busy as always, but you had been feeling especially tightly wound lately, unable to shake the tension that seemed to permeate your entire being.

But now, for the first time in weeks, you felt like yourself again. Dancing always seemed to have that effect on you. Some god-awful remix of an Ariana Grande song was playing, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. You had just enough alcohol in your system to make you feel relaxed, loose, but not out of control. You didn’t remember exactly how you had arrived at that point, but that didn’t really bother you.

You were dancing with someone, but it was dark, and everything felt a little blurry in a pleasant way, and you couldn’t see who it was. You could certainly feel him, though, your bodies pressed impossibly close together as you moved to the music. Large, strong hands held your hips, which you swayed back and forth to the beat of the song. You sensed the pulsing presence of the other clubgoers around you, but the warmth radiating from your partner overpowered the usual stuffiness of such a crowd.

You sighed, tossing your hair back and running your hands up your partner’s torso, feeling the muscles underneath his (admittedly slightly sweaty) shirt. You brushed his chest with your fingers before sliding your hands up to grasp his shoulders.

Your partner leant down, whispering in your ear. His hot breath, smelling slightly of beer, made the hair on the back of your neck stand up. It was oddly pleasant.

“This isn’t real.”

You looked up, slightly confused. All of a sudden, the club’s strobe lighting was too bright and disorienting, and you became acutely aware of the blood pulsing throughout your body. You still couldn’t see your partner’s face.

“What?” you shouted over the music, your own voice echoing loudly in your ears.

Your partner gave a throaty chuckle, and you slowed your dancing a bit, feeling as if you had just realized something important. You couldn’t conclude what it was, though; the alcohol was causing your brain to lag and keeping you from finishing the thought.

This time you saw as the shadowy figure of your partner, who stood well over a foot taller than you, hunched over considerably to speak to you again.

“You really think this would ever happen? Can’t you see who I am?”

You suddenly felt too sweaty, standing still in the middle of the dance floor as you tried to focus on the man’s face. Your eyes worked to adjust to the dimness being constantly punctuated by obnoxiously bright flashes of light, and eventually you were able to make contact with a pair of bright blue eyes staring down at you.

“There she is. Hello, Y/N.”

You startled awake, frantically fishing around in the sheets for your buzzing phone. You found it and snoozed the alarm, grimacing at the bright screen and the ungodly hour it displayed. “Fucking hell,” you groaned, turning over and pulling the covers over your head. You cursed your past self for thinking early-morning training for basketball would be good idea, a way to get more involved at school. Now that the time had come, you decided you really couldn’t care less about team building.

When your alarm went off for the second time a few minutes later, you took a resigned breath and dragged yourself out of bed.

This wasn’t the first time you had dreamt about Gwilym Lee. In fact, the dreams had been increasing in frequency lately, making you more and more irritated and tense as the weeks went on. As if you needed any more reason to hate him. He had ruined your life.

Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an exaggeration. Your life was still going on relatively smoothly in most respects. But for the last few weeks you really had felt quite on edge, and Gwil was to blame.

It all sounded rather cliché when you thought about it. He was the freakishly beautiful British cousin of one of your classmates, visiting America for an acting apprenticeship and breaking the hearts of nearly everyone he encountered in his tragically short time there. Of course, he just had to get all chummy with your friend Joe, meaning you had to be around his pretentious ass constantly. (You were not going to let the presence of this interloper stop you from hanging out with one of your best friends.) And, the cherry on top of this disgusting shepherd’s pie, it was rumored that he was hooking up with Caitlin, a former friend of yours with whom you weren’t on the best of terms. None of this was helped by the fact that you weren’t exactly known for keeping your feelings to yourself, so everyone involved was aware of your varying levels of annoyance with both parties. The entire situation seemed like it could have been the plot of a bad romantic drama or young adult novel.

You just wished all of this could have waited until afteryour birthday. Nineteen isn’t usually one of the big birthday milestones, but you had been deathly ill last year on your eighteenth and had been planning to make up for it this year—and make up for it big time.

With the help of your parents and a distant yet generous great-aunt, you were able to rent out a barcade downtown for the evening. The place was a bar and was meant for adults, but also had laser tag, a bouncy obstacle course, and a wide variety of arcade games. When open to the public it was twenty-one and up, but they allowed minors at reserved events. You had sent out the invitations before Gwil showed up and stuck his stupid, chiseled jawline in your business, but you invited pretty much everyone he knew and it would be odd—and frankly, pretty rude—if he just wasn’t allowed to come. So he would be there.

All you could do was plan to keep your distance and hope that things went off without a hitch tonight.

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Despite every cell in your body crying out for you to go back to sleep, you made it through the early morning training as well all of your classes. After your last class, you went back to your dorm room and took a quick power nap before it was time to get ready for your party.

Since your party would involve some rather physical activities, you decided to forgo a particularly elaborate or high-maintenance look, instead putting on minimal makeup, your favorite pair of black jeans with a nice blouse, and a simple half-up, half-down hairstyle. You put in a pair of silver hoop earrings and some black velvet flats and admired yourself in the mirror. You looked damn good.

Your friend Lucy picked you up in her car and you rode to the barcade together. You had about half an hour to get things set up before other guests started arriving, and you puttered around pouring snacks into bowls and hanging streamers.

You were standing and chatting with Lucy when people began to show up.

“Wassup, Y/N!” Joe, always one to make an entrance, greeted you loudly. You quickly set down your paper cup of lemonade before Joe gave you a huge hug, lifting you off your feet and spinning you around.

“Looking incredible as always! Feel old yet?”

You laughed and half-heartedly adjusted your hair and top, pretending to be annoyed. “Please, Joe, I’m a year younger than you.”

Joe gave Lucy a quick hug in greeting before turning back to you. “Yes, and I’m telling you from experience, it really starts to hit you around nineteen. My back is killing me as we speak!” he said rather cheerfully for someone who was allegedly in pain.

“Whatever you say, old man.”

“Well hey now, you know what they say about respecting your elders.”

“Yeah, right. You already convinced me to let Gwil come. Don’t push your luck. You’re gonna keep that Laurence Olivier wannabe in check tonight, right?”

“Yes, ma’am,” Joe replied, straightening up and giving you a salute. “No impromptu soliloquies will be performed tonight if I can help it.”

“Oh god, I would die,” you laughed and rolled your eyes. “Although if he did that then I would have a great excuse to kick him out.”

Joe gave a goofy grin but then spoke with a more serious voice. “Y/N, I know you’re tired of hearing it, but he’s really not that bad. When you get him alone he’s much less…”

“…of a huge douchebag?”

“Well, for lack of a better word, yes. In fact, I really think he acts so weird around you because he—”

“Oh god, Joe, don’t even try to give me the ‘boys pull your hair because they like you’ thing. That’s so second grade.”

“Okay, okay,” Joe put his hands up in defense. “All I’m saying is…he does talk about you a lot. And it’s not all bad.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, wanting to end the conversation. The truth was, the fact that Gwil talked about you when you weren’t around piqued your interest, but you didn’t want Joe to see that. “Oh great, that makes me feel much better. Whatever. I don’t want to spend any more energy talking about him. Let’s get this party started.”

“Great. That’s the spirit. Now, can I interest you in a round of Whack-A-Mole?”

“Oh, absolutely. You’re on.”

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Soon enough the party was in full swing, and you were making rounds, checking in with as many people as possible to make sure everyone was having a good time. You had just joined in a heated debate over which of the university’s physics professors was the best when you felt someone tap on your shoulder.

“Y/N, can I borrow you for a moment?” Joe was behind you looking almost sheepish, an expression you were not used to seeing on your normally boisterous and confident friend. You excused yourself from the conversation and walked a few feet away to talk with Joe in private.

“Okay, please do not freak out right now, but I have to tell you something,” Joe said carefully, his arms held in front of him, fists balled up nervously.

“Uh, okay, but you’re making it sound like I’m definitely gonna freak out right now,” you replied, looking at him with your brow furrowed in confusion and concern.

“No, it’s, well it’s not really that big of a deal, it’s just…Gwil brought Caitlin.” Joe muttered quickly, cringing as he tried to gauge your reaction.

Without thinking, you whipped your head around, scanning the room for either of the offending parties. You looked back at Joe, plastering on a fake smile so as to not appear as surprised and angry as you actual were.

“Of course he fucking did. Bastard. Where are they?”

“I swear he never mentioned it to me, when I told him he could come I never mentioned bringing a plus one. I’m so sorry, Y/N, I should have been clearer. I didn’t think—"

He looked so guilty and sad, and you just couldn’t be mad at that face. You sighed. “It’s okay, Joe, it’s not your fault. You just assumed he would have common sense and ask before bringing a guest, but they must have different party etiquette across the pond, huh?”

“I’m so sorry, Y/N, I’m gonna make it up to you. I’ll take you for Chinese, just the two of us.”

“That does sound pretty nice. We haven’t been to Lucky Kitchen in a while.”

“Great, then it’s a plan. But hey, just ignore those two and enjoy your party, okay? You deserve this.”

“Thanks, Joe. And thanks for telling me, at least I’m prepared to run into either of them now.”

“That’s my girl,” Joe said, patting you firmly on the shoulder. “Now get back to your adoring fans.”

You chuckled and flipped your hair over your shoulder dramatically, turning back to the conversation you were having.

But you found it a little hard to focus on the discussion now. You were on edge, desperately trying to keep eye contact with the people you were talking to rather than checking your peripheral vision for your unwanted guests. Eventually the group you were chatting with decided to start a game of laser tag, and you enthusiastically joined in, letting the thoughts of Gwil and Caitlin’s presence run off your back.

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Several intense games of laser tag and a Dance Dance Revolution tournament later, you were warm and happy and still mostly distracted from the presence of your two uninvited guests.

Then it was time for cake. The lights were dimmed, and your friends and family began to sing as the cake was brought out, sparklers in place of candles. You gasped, covering your mouth with your hands. It was one of the most unique and beautiful cakes you had ever seen.

You had planned on just getting a few sheet cakes from Costco, since they were cheap and actually not half bad, but your parents insisted that they had it covered and surprised you with a huge custom cake from a bakery in town. It was four tiers, alternating chocolate and vanilla, and the entire thing was iced with a mint chocolate chip buttercream frosting and covered in white fondant roses.

You made a mental note to write that great-aunt a thank you card.

After everyone had gotten at least one helping of cake, they began to return to the games or sit in small groups in conversation. You stood near the table where the cake was, taking everything in. You were definitely started to lose steam now, but you mostly just felt pleasantly sleepy as you gazed out over the room. You had had a pretty perfect night so far. Then a nearby conversation brought you out of your daze.

“Like, who wants to play fucking Whack-A-Mole at an adult’s birthday party? I’m surprised this many people actually showed up.”

You recognized that voice immediately. Caitlin. An old friend-turned-frenemy-turned-full-on enemy, a voice you just couldn’t seem to get away from ever since elementary school.

“And she was actually, like, crying over the cake. Like are you kidding? Get a grip.”

You were too shocked to even be angry at first. You pulled out your phone surreptitiously, opening your conversation with Joe and sending him a text.

Omg, Caitlin and Gwil are talking shit

Almost immediately, you received the read receipt and then Joe’s response.

Not if I can help it

You stared at your phone, confused. Joe was nowhere to be seen, let alone do anything about this. You were typing out a response suggesting as much when you heard his voice—but not directed at you.

“Hey Gwil. Caitlin. How’s it goin’?” Joe was sweaty and attempting to catch his breath, clearly having just come from the bouncy obstacle course. He took a swig from a water bottle as he walked up to them.

Oh, no,you thought. What are you doing, Joe?

“Ugh, fine,” Caitlin replied to Joe. “Not really understanding the whole ‘adults playing arcade games’ thing but whatever. At least the cake was good.”

Gwil snorted. “Yeah, would help if I had something to drink, too.” God, he was so fucking arrogant. You couldn’t stand it.

“I have no idea what you guys are talking about,” Joe said cheerfully, “I’m having more fun than I have in long time. Nothing like some friendly competition to take your mind off midterms coming up. Come on, go through the obstacle course with me. Just once. We can race!”

Gwil seemed to perk up a little bit at this suggestion, but Caitlin quickly shot it down.

“Huh, yeah, thanks but no thanks. I’d like to keep at least a little of my dignity tonight.”

Joe frowned at her. “If you don’t like any of this stuff, why’d you even come?”

Oh god. Now he was really going to start something.

“Duh, free food. Free cake. Chance to make fun of Y/N. And I just couldn’t let this one go all alone,” Caitlin giggled, bumping Gwil with her shoulder. Gwil didn’t seem to share quite the same level of mirth, however, and you followed his nervous gaze to Joe, whose eyes were quickly narrowing.

“First of all, Gwil here was never told he could invite anyone. He wasn’t technically invited himself. Second of all, Y/N is my friend. And if you’re going to talk shit about my friend and her bomb-ass party, I’d rather you do it somewhere else.”

You started wracking your brain for ways you could infiltrate this conversation, get it to end without revealing that you had been eavesdropping. You texted Joe, telling him to call off the dogs, but he either didn’t feel his phone vibrate in his pocket or he was choosing to ignore it. You didn’t realize you were staring until Gwil’s eyes met your own and he smirked, prompting Caitlin and Joe to look over at you.

“Well, speak of the devil,” Gwil crooned, his eyes locked on you as you dragged yourself over to where they were, attempting to look as if you had just casually walked by.

“Y/N, hiiii!” Caitlin said sweetly, a distinct change from the sardonic tone she was using just seconds before. “Oh my god, what a great party. That cake was just to die for.”

“Oh, I’m soglad you’re enjoying it,” you replied through gritted teeth. “Isn’t this place just genius? It’s been so long since I’ve played arcade games like this.”

“Yes, well, it is kind of like Chuck-E-Cheese for adults, isn’t it?” Caitlin’s voice seemed to raise in pitch with every word.

Your eyes narrowed slightly, fake smile still plastered on. “Yeah! It’s so nice to still be able to relax and have fun every once in a while, isn’t it?”

Gwil and Joe were following your conversation like a tennis match, sensing a rising tension in your seemingly friendly exchange.

“For sure. Thanks somuch for the invite,”—don’t remember sending you one,you thought— “but unfortunately Gwil and I have to get going now, don’t we babe?”

Babe? So they were using pet names now? You wanted to vomit.

For once in his life, Gwil seemed hesitant. “I, uh—”

Joe cut in. “Aw, that’s too bad. Well, it was great to see you guys! See you for frisbee tomorrow, Gwil?”

“Uh, yeah, but—”

“Well, it was great to see you, Y/N. Happy birthday!” Caitlin practically squealed as she walked away, pulling Gwil by the arm.

Joe waved at them and began to pull you in the opposite direction, but you caught Gwil glancing back at you as they walked toward the door.

“God, Y/N, I’m so sorry you had to hear that. Fuck, I’m a terrible friend, aren’t I? I insisted on letting Gwil come and he just had to go and bring her, and then they have the nerve to say that shit right in front of you? I’m gonna kill him—”

“Joe. Stop. Breathe. It’s not your fault. If we’re going to blame anyone, it’s gonna be Gwil, ok? He knows how I feel about Caitlin and was still selfish enough to bring her along. That’s fucked up, but you didn’t know he would do it.”

“I know, but—”

“Joe, let’s just forget about this for now, okay? I’m gonna enjoy the rest of my night, not spend it being mad at Gwil.”

Joe took a deep breath. “You’re right. God, you’re too good for us, you know that?”

“Oh, I’m very aware.”

Joe laughed. “Okay, okay, your majesty. Now may I request a rematch of air hockey?”

“Hell yes. You are going down, Mazzello.”

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After you had beat Joe savagely at several raucous games of air hockey, you snuck away for a breather. You were leaning against the bar, casually scrolling through Tumblr, when someone disrupted your thoughts.

“Y/N? Can we talk?” A British accent. Of course. What was he still doing here?

“I’m not particularly interested in anything you have to say.” You kept your eyes glued to your phone, but you weren’t really looking at it anymore, mainly wanting to appear indifferent to Gwil’s reappearance.

“I know. I just want to tell you that I’m sorry I brought Caitlin tonight. I…didn’t mean to start anything, I just…”

Any attempt to ignore Gwil went out the window. You put your phone in your pocket and looked him in the eye. Fuck, he has beautiful eyes. “You just what? You just thought it would be a great idea to bring the person I dislike the most to a party you weren’t even technically invited to?”

“Well—”

“Oh yes, please. I’d love to hear whatever convoluted justification you’ve come up with. Let’s have it.”

“I know it’s stupid and immature. I’m kicking myself for thinking it could ever work. But…well, I thought you might be…jealous. I thought maybe you would, I don’t know, be angry enough at her to want me for yourself. Or at the very least pay attention to me.”

You stared in disbelief, mouth ajar.

“God, I know, it sounds absolutely mad when I say it out loud. Look, I’ll drop it now, I just hope you understand that I’m really sorry.”

“You…are interested in me.”

“Um, yes.”

“Like, you like me.”

“Quite a lot, actually.”

“And when being condescending and arrogant didn’t work, you thought you would use my ex-friend to piss me off, and I would end up wanting to be with you to get back at her.”

Gwil was silent.

“Where is Caitlin, anyway? I thought you left with her.”

“She did leave, but I told her I wanted to stay. She got mad. She left without me.”

You stared at him for a minute.

“Jesus…you’re even more of an idiot than I thought you were.”

Then you grabbed him by the hand and dragged him into the back room behind the bar.

“Wha—where are we—”

You shut the door behind you and backed him up against it.

“Shut up and kiss me already.”

“Wait, you—you want—”

“God, yes, you stupid, beautiful piece of shit.”

Gwil seemed to suddenly snap out of his confusion and into make-out mode, putting one hand on the small of your back and one on the back of your head, pulling you up onto your tiptoes as he leaned down to kiss you. You put your hands on either side of his face, feeling the stubble on his cheeks. His lips were warm, and you could faintly smell his cologne.

After a long few minutes of making out, you slid your hands down his chest and began to undo his belt. Gwil pulled back and put his hands over yours.

“Wait, you—are you sure about this?”

You looked up at him.

“Oh, I am absolutely sure. I know exactly what I want to do with you.”

Gwil shuddered and took his hands away from yours, reaching up into your shirt to undo your bra as you finished undoing his belt.

You moaned into Gwil’s mouth as your lips met again, his thumbs gently circling over your nipples.

You jerked Gwil’s pants and underwear down over his hips and pulled out his dick.

“Aaahhh…oh god,” he groaned, clearly trying to be quiet.

“That’s good, huh? I’ll make sure you feel so good,” you purred.

Gwil breathed heavily as you worked his cock, fumbling to get into your pants as well. Once he succeeded, he stuck his hand in, gasping at what he felt there.

“So wet, oh god.”

“Mmm, yes. Because of you. You made me this wet.”

Gwil clumsily crashed his lips back into yours as he began to rub your clitoris with his fingers. The other hand remained on your breast, brushing over your sensitive, aroused nipple.

You began to rut into his hand, a little embarrassed at how close you were already but wanting to come quickly. You were sure your guests were having a great time, but you wouldn’t want anyone concerned about your absence.

“Faster, Gwil, please.”

He began to move his hand faster, but you slowed yours down. “Mmmph, Y/N. More,” he said gruffly.

“No. Not yet. Make me—ah!—make me come first.”

Gwil’s hand practically vibrated off his body as he moved his hand firmly against your clit. You buried your face in his chest as you came, thrusting erratically against his hand.

“God…yes…so good…” you gasped in between breaths, riding out your orgasm until you couldn’t take any more, pulling Gwil’s hand out of your pants. You looked up at him with hooded eyes and guided his hand toward your face.

“Now, let me taste it.”

Gwil stared with wide eyes and put his fingers, dripping with your come, up to your mouth. You sucked his fingers clean, finally speeding up the hand you had around his cock.

“Oh Jesus, that’s hot.”

You smiled coyly, watching as Gwil’s face and neck began to flush a deep pink.

“I’m—I’m getting—close—”

You took your hand away suddenly.

“Now. You’re going to finish the job.”

Gwil stared at you dumbly.

“You heard me. You’re going to finish yourself off alone, in the utility room of a barcade, and walk out of this party alone. And then maybe you’ll remember this moment before you decide being an asshole to another woman is going to make her want to be with you.”

Gwil shuffled to the side awkwardly as you opened the door, staring at you in disbelief as you strolled back out to the bar. With a contented smile on your face, you headed to the bathroom to freshen up before enjoying the rest of your birthday party.

END

#I'm so sorry this is late #and I feel like I rushed the ending a bit #I hope you like it regardless #claire says words #my posts #anatfq #fic #gwilym lee #bohemian rhapsody #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee fanfiction #bohemian rhapsody fanfiction

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mirainawen · 5 years

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Little!Adam + Kevin, "We must make more cookies before they come back and find the jar empty!" "No, you just want to eat more." A pout. "Well, I guess we could make more and then leave them one each." "Sounds fair to me. Besides if they asks, I'm telling them you ate them all." "Hey, I thought we were a team. And besides, they'd never believe you, especially with that chocolate all over your face."

So…a million years later…I slowly begin to write again…

What do you call an overwrought prophet and a de-aged half-Winchester? The beginning of a terrible, cosmic joke

He’s certainly seen weirder things, Kevin thinks one surreal Saturday morning in early May. Just…maybe none quite so strange as the one that sat across from him that morning. He wasn’t even supposed to be here and somehow Sam and Dean did what Winchesters do best in his life: railroad it. Dean’d, of course, gotten the last word, slamming the bunker door shut tight as he and Sam headed out, and the silence had hung heavy and bitter over the whole place.

Kevin’s less than thrilled, and had been all night. Sleeping on it hadn’t taken much of the sting out of it, though ‘sleep’ was used loosely. As for the only other occupant, well, nothing had ever seemed to sit well with him in the first place, and now? Now, he didn’t have a clue what to do with the motion-sensitive bomb turned-

“What?” Adam suddenly grumps, staring in disgruntlement at the box of Lucky Charms in his small fingers.

-turned five-year-old.

And wasn’t that the most bizarre thing of all? Nothing he’d seen since the Winchester Intrusion had prepared him for this, and apparently Sam and Dean were just as stumped despite all their years in the business.

Kevin realizes he’s probably supposed to answer, so he manages tightly, “What?” He’s honestly not sure he really wants to approach whatever’s under Adam’s skin this morning with a ten-foot surgical knife. He’d witnessed some impressive fits of temper in his occasional visits the past year of “sabbatical.” Sabbatical? Was that even a thing in the hunter’s world? Or…Men of Letters? Whichever.

“Deh-coder’s gone.” Adam explains, shaking the cereal box to produce a rustle that drops an uncertain prick into Kevin’s stomach. It was half gone at the very least, and hadn’t they opened that box last night? (An uneasy dinner that was still…uneasy.)

Damn, but how much had the kid had already? And how long had he been up before Kevin had stumbled for the coffee pot? Adam hadn’t said a word, barely seemed to acknowledge him, and honestly…that, at the very least, had seemed about accurate for what he’d seen of Adam the past year. But, unfortunately, it had also meant that in his previous fog he had approached the situation with the same manner he’d treated it since Adam first arrived: Adam had alternated quietly disdainful and loudly argumentative, and he wasn’t on Kevin’s radar as long as Kevin wasn’t on Adam’s. And he usually wasn’t unless it was for a disdainful sneer.

But Dean had warned last night to keep a close eye on the de-aged kid, hadn’t he? Sam had seemed a little more lax, just shrugging with an assurance that Adam was fine most of the time. So…what had they gotten him into? Sugar-crazed kids were not his idea of a good time. How had he been tagged into baby-sitting duty? The half-Winchester was a Sam and Dean problem (case, point, name), and he had enough of his own as a stressed out, wanted prophet on the run from a tireless destiny. He was an unfortunate plaything of an indifferent and infuriating fate. Sam and Dean should be the ones giving him a break, not making things worse.

Winchesters bred extra bizarre at an alarming rate, and he wished they’d leave him out of it.

Adam sighs heavily, and Kevin careens abruptly back into the present with a blink. “Hello, prophet-man? What happened to it?”

“Uh…” Kevin scrambles, staring at the sleep-tousled five-year-old in one of Sam’s or Dean’s shirts. The kid stares back pointedly. What were they…?

Adam snorts. “Sam and Dean said you were sooooo smart.”

Taken aback, he realizes Adam had been looking to him for answers. But, “They do?” pops out before he can think about it, surprised.

Adam sighs again, this time heavier and more annoyed. The box thunks softly on the table before he pushes it away. “Yeah,” he grouches, “but they’re kinda stupid so whatever.” He’s glaring down at the bowl with…wait…Kevin blinks, peering closer. Was the kid pouting?

Suddenly he realizes just what he’d started to think the night before: if he ignored the fact that he’d been informed upon his arrival that this tyke was Adam Milligan, half-Winchester, angelic body bag and the stubborn little shit giving Sam and Dean all kinds of grief the past year, he could easily believe that the irritated five-year-old Dean had gotten into a shouting match with at bedtime was actually a next-generation Winchester kid, product of a busted condom and one of Dean’s conquests or something. Adam could rival Dean on his best day even before the kid had been de-aged.

He shakes himself from this ridiculous train of thought before it derails entirely. Pouting though he may be, there’s still plenty of room for the animosity Adam never seems short on.

“Of course,” he snarks in return. But…well, he agrees with the disgruntlement Adam feels, if not the outright sentiment. Plus, he has no desire to set the kid off: Adam had proved he could throw quite the meltdown over the fury and hatred he harbored towards his brothers, and Kevin knows it’s still in that frame, even if it was much smaller now; Adam’s animosity was a lot like cigarette smoke: lingering long after the smoker is gone. No need poking a sleeping grizzly. Last night had proven that.

Adam’s eyes flick to his face, a cutting look that pours ice through Kevin’s veins; he’s seen it a dozen times before, even if the face forming the expression is softer and younger. Shit, what had he said?

Worry over a tantrum vanishes as Adam smiles. “Maybe you’re not stupid.” He grants benevolently, and Kevin thinks sarcastically how nice it is to be let off by a five-year-old. He does not mention that this grant insinuates that Sam and Dean might actually be smart enough to know what they’re talking about then. Adam’s not going to give ground on his brothers, and honestly, Kevin would be shocked if he ever did.

“Now,” Adam pauses, stretching a little before settling deeper into his chair, Lucky Charms softening in whole milk. “The deh-coder is gone.”

“Maybe Dean took it.” He snarks, shrugging around his coffee. He’s not had nearly enough.

Electric blue eyes narrow, something tightening along Adam’s jaw. “Dick.”

Kevin’s brows shoot toward the roof and the coffee stings at the back of his throat as he narrowly avoids choking. Had to be Dean’s influence. Had to.

Well imagining the bitchiness on Sam’s face every time Dean did what Dean did best (and that is, be himself) in front of the kid, he stifles a chuckle at the image.

Adam seems relatively satisfied with Kevin’s answer because he shoots forward and digs into his bowl with all the put-out gusto the kid was known for, twenty-something or five irrelevant. Two charms slide stickily down the outside of the bowl and a splash of milk pulls three pieces of grain with it. Kevin’s suddenly standing in his mom’s kitchen five years previous with his cousins in the process of destroying it and he was in charge.

“Don’t make a mess,” he grumps sharply into his mug, swallowing the horror he feels at having to babysit again.

Adam smacks his lips. “No,” and there it is, the contrary brat is back full force. So much for appeasing the kid with snarks about his brothers.

How had he gotten roped into this?

It’d been an hour and death cannot come fast enough for Kevin. Honestly, when would he be released from this mortal coil? He hated his life, hated it ever since the incident, see, and having powers sucked, and he never asked for any of this. He’s going to kill Sam and Dean slowly and painfully with some trick he’s learned from that angelic tablet, he swears it, while Adam “don’t call me Winchester” Milligan takes a long hike off a short pier.

The kid was a nightmare on steroids with an unhealthy side of late night haunting, and Kevin’s going to lose his goddamned mind again. That would make the third time this year, but honestly who’s counting? (He is. He’s counting. He hates it.)

“Adam!” He snaps for the fifth time in as many seconds. Adam wasn’t listening.

“I’m busy, prophet-man!” Adam snaps, launching himself to the other side of the couch. The kool-aid Kevin most certainly did not get him sloshes dangerously close to the brim of the cup in Adam’s hand. “You’re inner-uping!” Adam starts his count over, hop, hop-

“No, get off the couch with that!” Kevin snatches for Adam’s arm, which is stupid, stupid, on his part; first, that kool-aid’s definitely going overboard; second, Adam’s…Adam’s never taken well to his personal space being invaded. He’s seen Dean make that mistake a few too many times.

He catches air instead as Adam whips to the side to avoid him, overbalances, and there goes the kool-aid down Kevin’s front (not the couch, he thinks thankfully, but still irritated). Adam kicks the cushion, pushing into the back of the couch with a growl.

He kicks his leg out. “Now I have to start again,” he grouches.

“Not with that,” Kevin snatches the now-empty cup.

“Hey!” Adam snaps. “That’s mine!”

“Well it shouldn’t be,” Kevin’s grouching as he wipes the bright red liquid off his face. Now he needs a shower…he shudders to think what would happen if Adam was left unsupervised even for a military one. “I didn’t say you could have kool-aid.” It just pops out, and Kevin shudders harder at suddenly turning into a disgruntled authority figure. Why should he care if the kid has too much sugar?

He remembers Sam’s disheveled appearance at the bunker door last night as if he hadn’t slept in an age, and remembers why.

Sleep was about the only pleasure Kevin had left to him. With few nightmares, courtesy of a mental block Cas had given him. He didn’t dream much, but it was better than being on pills, he supposed.

“Yeah, well, you’re not Dean.” Adam grumps, and Kevin snorts.

Yeah, thank God. He got to check out as soon as either Winchester returned. Why hadn’t they just called Garth if they needed to check a lead? This seemed way more like a Garth gig than a prophet’s duty.

Kevin’s stomach sinks through the floor, though, as he abruptly realizes he’d said Yeah, thank God out loud when Adam’s face darkens.

“Yeah, well I didn’t say I wanted you here.” Adam shoots back.

“No.” Kevin admits. Avoid the tantrum, is all he’s thinking. Don’t set the kid off. Adam’s fine most of the time, Sam had assured, and so that had to mean that Sam had tricks that Dean didn’t; channel Sam. Keep the peace. “And I didn’t say I wanted to be here, either, kid. Guess neither of us got much say in this.”

Adam’s scowl grows darker. “Don’t call me a kid. I’m not a kid.”

Yes, he’d heard that quite a bit last night during that shouting match. A glance or two at Sam’s pointed look at the far wall had confirmed Kevin’s growing theory: it wasn’t a new argument, and no doubt he’d been hearing it in various forms for far longer than a couple weeks. Say, a year?

“Fine. Just remember, dude, this is your brothers’ doing.” As much as Adam didn’t need much prodding to light that anger he harbored toward them, blaming absent parties seemed the easiest way to diffuse his disgruntlement toward him. The last thing Kevin wanted to deal with was Adam’s temper.

Adam groans, long, hard, angry. “Uggggghh, I KNOW.” He throws himself off the couch. “They don’t like me!”

That’s unexpected, but, well…not surprising. You’ve been a huge pain in the ass since you got back, kid is not going to go over well, even if he substituted ‘Adam’ for ‘kid’. But maybe that was the problem, Kevin thinks abruptly. He is a kid, at least now - and what kid wanted to feel like his own family didn’t like him? Sam had hinted the night before that Adam’s…consciousness seemed to come in and out: in moments he seemed more his old self, but those moments were fewer and farther between. This Adam was young and ruled by emotions he didn’t understand. At least the adult probably did.

Adam pauses and whips back around on Kevin, glaring up at him. “You don’t like me,” he accuses, and Kevin’s brows bounce toward the ceiling.

“You’re not particularly likeable.” He shoots back before he can think.

Adam’s eyes narrow. “You’re not either! You’re AH…noying.”

“You know, I think you said the same thing about Dean last night. Sammy too?” he goads.

“You can’t call him Sammy.” Adam’s voice has turned to venom, and for a moment, Kevin thinks he probably should have quit while he was ahead. He doesn’t know what he’s falling head first into.

“You know something, Adam, I think you think everyone’s annoying because you don’t like anyone.”

Adam’s lips thin into a scrunched, wet line. There’s a kool-aid stain rimming the sides of his mouth, at glaring odds with the fury radiating off his impossibly tiny frame. “Maybe,” he challenges, “I hate everyone cause everyone hated me first.”

That gives Kevin pause, stilling the world for a moment. He can see how Dean so easily gets pulled into arguing with him. There’s something about Adam that dares people to challenge him, something about his absolute certainty in anything he says that demands a retort. No wonder Dean can’t leave it be. And Kevin…well, Kevin’s not really sure why he let himself get drawn in. Channel Sam.

“Nobody…nobody hates you.” His incredulity takes centre stage first. He wouldn’t say that Sam and Dean loved Adam, and feeling obligated is a far cry from caring, but…hate was a strong word. And felt vile coming from a child about his own family. He knows, logically, it’s not a child saying it and blood doesn’t automatically mean family, he’d learned that lesson the hard way a few times over, but something in Kevin wants to reach out regardless.

Saving people. He wasn’t quite to the whole hunting things stage, but maybe he’d always been in the business of salvation. He’d never had faith in a great many things, and even less the past few years, but there were many different forms of salvation. Everyone starts with a soft heart, his mother used to say. Nobody was born angry or hard.

It’s easier not to care. He knows that. But he’d had a few arguments with certain Winchesters about it for good reason. Damn, but he missed his mom unbelievably, all the time.

Adam’s staring resolutely across the room, brow puckered and lower lip matching, but…but it’s not trembling, thank- whatever. (He hasn’t decided.)

“Hey,” he says softly, reaching out to gently put a hand on a bony shoulder. Adam turns to look at him, electric blue eyes cold and lined in red, light bruising across the bridge of his nose from some accident; those eyes seem somehow ancient and dead and lost all at the same time, and the room goes cold to Kevin. “Sam’s very fond of you.”

“Sam left me.” Adam answers in a dull tone that strikes a funny feeling in Kevin’s gut.

Sam left me… Kevin stares into those eyes, but even he doesn’t know what he’s searching for. Answers, maybe. Guidance, oddly enough: a way to help. Kevin feels it pulsing beneath his skin, an alien power to save save save, and-

“It was cold.” Adam offers softly, head tilting slightly. One shoulder rose and fell. “And hot. It was so bright. Always. All the time. And dark. So dark and quiet.” He raised one finger to his lips. “Shh, Sam.” The hand fell in mid-air, the other raising to join its counterpart inches apart with palms curled upward as though he held something in them. “I…” he shudders a breath, and Kevin doesn’t quite know why but he shudders too, a freezing tingle up his spine that needs someplace to escape.

Adam’s eyes flick to Kevin’s again. “Don’t wake up.” He says.

Kevin’s brow furrows, until his mind echoes the shuddery breath, I…don’t wake up. The floor disappears out from under him.

Adam abruptly pushes his hand off his shoulder and steps back. “Only you here, prophet-man.” He says, smiling with something so acrid it, too, is vile on the face of a child. “They left.”

They left you? Kevin thinks, but can’t speak. Doesn’t even know that he should. He doesn’t know enough, he doesn’t know anything. And what had- what had he felt, prickling along the edges of Adam’s skin, thrumming against his hand? It hadn’t felt…it had been alien. It had felt…no, he doesn’t want to think it. But it reminds him of holding the tablet and he doesn’t know enough.

He takes a second, sits down properly on the floor and stares at Adam. The kid hasn’t stormed off, so maybe there was talking to him.

“You’re mad Sam and Dean left last night, aren’t you?”

Adam’s brow lifts, which is unexpected for a five-year-old. “I don’t care.” He says stiffly, making as though to turn away, but he wavers. He glances sidelong at Kevin with an uncertainty that keeps Kevin’s gears turning wildly. There’s less of that bizarre dead look in his eyes and more of the angry kid he’s been seeing the past some-odd hours. Less chill.

“I think you do.” He says.

“I think you’re mad.” Adam shoots back, squinting at Kevin. “You don’t wanna be here.”

“No, I didn’t.” Kevin admits.

Adam nods. “Then you don’t have to pretend to care about me. I can take care of myself.” He snatches the empty cup from the coffee table. “This is my cup,” he says plainly, and it’s so absurdly young and childlike that Kevin wonders what had been going through his head a moment ago. Kid had some serious nightmares. Nothing angelic about it, barring their source.

“Um, sorry, but no more kool-aid for you.” Kevin gestures pointedly at himself, feels the sticky pull where the drink had dried on his skin, especially his face.

Adam looks at him like he’s plainly stupid. “If you weren’t here, where would you be?” he asks unexpectedly, and Kevin blinks.

“Oh, um…uh…Probably Colorado.” Garth had set him up pretty solidly out in the national forest. It was no veritable fortress like the Men of Letters bunker the Winchesters had inherited, but a cabin in the woods on the river was remote enough to give him some peace of mind. Cas had put some security measures in place, and Kevin had since reinforced them with further tricks he’d translated from the tablet.

Adam nods, turning away. “Then I think you should go back there, prophet-man.” The voice is deceptively light and...sweet.

Kevin blinks. “Yeah, nice try. Your brothers would kill me.”

“No,” Adam executes a turn on his heel. “They like you.” And the way Adam juts out his chin hints at bitterness.

Kevin sighs. “I’m afraid they’d still kill me, Adam. You’re like 2 feet tall and five. Not exactly old enough to be left alone.”

Adam folds his arms. The cup wavers against his side, tilting back and forth as his mind turns. “You sound like Dean,” he finally passes judgement.

“Well, sometimes Dean has like a little bit of sense.” He pinches his fingers close together to illustrate, hoping to draw the kid out.

Adam plucks his empty hand from the crook of his elbow, splaying his fingers as he stares down at them. “I’ve saved them a few times, you know,” he says loftily, and Kevin suddenly wonders if maybe he hasn’t been talking to the kid at all the past few minutes. His consciousness seems to slide back and forth between... Sam’s uncertain voice tapers off.

He doesn’t know what to do, but he finds himself reaching out. Adam’s just at arms’ length and Kevin leans in, closing his fingers around the tiny fist; the fingers are soft and malleable, bending beneath Kevin’s. Adam slowly raises his eyes, but they don’t hold the same look they did earlier: distant, sure, but not a deadly maelstrom like before. Kevin can’t put his finger on this one.

Why had he never had a single conversation with the adult? Adam’s just as lost and angry and terrified as the rest of them, and Kevin thinks they might have been friends.

“What happened?” he asks softly, and something jerks through Adam’s frame.

He tugs on his hand. “It was sup-POSed to be okay. He said…he said…”

“Who said?” he asks gently. There’s that feeling again, of touching the tablet; it wiggles beneath the skin of Adam’s fingers, but it's softer now, not quite as volatile.

Adam looks down, and that feeling passes. It’s a five-year-old hanging his head before Kevin, eyes shut, letting out a breath to his bare feet. “I think...I think I did something bad.” He says softly. “Is that...is that why Sam and Dean are mad at me all the time?” And if there’d been any doubt a moment before, it’s certain now: that’s all child staring back at Kevin, frightened and sad and desolate.

“No,” he finds himself shaking his head, because salvation is first and foremost for lost children, isn’t it? Nobody is born with a hard heart, Kev. Anger is where hurt still touches a tender place. “They were born grumpy.” He pokes at Adam’s stomach, because, well, okay, he doesn’t know what he’s doing.

Adam doesn’t smile, but he doesn’t flinch either.

Kevin stifles a sigh. What did one do for kids who used to be adults who’d been eaten alive, resurrected, thrown into a demonic, eternal cage with the devil himself, then rescued and brought back to the very people who’d only tolerated your existence the first (second?) time and who saw you as an obligation? Dean’s guilt could fill stadiums, but it couldn’t build a damned thing.

Not that he knows much better, either. None of this was exactly covered anywhere in his past life and there was nothing at all of help in that tablet.

“Sam’s not grumpy ‘less I wake him.” Adam finally says, softly but like he wants to contribute.

“No,” Kevin agrees, forcing a small smile to tick at his mouth. “You really gotta get on Sam’s nerves, don’t you?”

“And I do.” Adam is speaking to his toes again, and Kevin frowns.

“Somehow, I doubt that.” Kevin lies, rolling his eyes.

Adam’s frown deepens even as it turns on the prophet. “You don’t lie good.”

Well. He stifles a sigh.

“Nobody gets on Sam’s nerves like Dean, even you. Don’t argue with me, I have more experience than you.”

Adam folds his arms. “Yeah, and whose fault is that?”

“Not mine or yours.” Kevin shoots back as he pushes to his feet. “Now, uh...I think dysfunctional family-” Adam cocks his head like he’s puzzled “-means we should have milk and cookies.” Mom always made milk and cookies after a bad day: bad grades, rejection, bullies- you name it. Kevin feels a bit wistful even thinking about carrying on the tradition, but at the same time: it feels...good.

Adam, of course, careens full force into five-year-old and lights up like it's Christmas. “Yes!” He shoots from the room like a rocket, and Kevin startles.

“Hey! Wait!” And chases after the kid.

Adam’s feet are swinging freely in the air as he maws through a cookie the size of Kevin’s fist, reheated just enough in the microwave that they were soft and gooey. Crumbs decorate his lap, the floor, and even the counter on his left like incriminating evidence. His face fares little better, but he’s clearly feeling better. Kevin thinks he can forget all about the chill that had crept up his spine and that tugging sense of urgency to fix. Vivid imagination, right?

“You know,” he says, leaning on the end of the counter. Adam doesn’t turn his head, but his eyes cut his direction. “Your brothers are very annoying, you know that?” He’s ignoring a text from Garth -GARTH!- asking after Adam’s well-being. Damn Sam and Dean haven’t even bothered to check in.

Adam snorts. “You’re tellin’ me, prophet-man. Dean thinks I need supervision.”

Kevin’s jaw drops at the deadpan look the kid, a kid, gives him. Somewhere in there, Adam’s not a kid, but right now- there’s not a trace of anything else, and it is honestly screwing with Kevin’s mind. And his mind has been screwed with a lot.

Adam jams the rest of the cookie into his mouth, takes a big sip of milk before carefully returning the cup to the counter, rimming his messy face with a white mustache. “They mess up your life too?”

“You’re pretty grim for a five year old.” Kevin says instead.

Adam shrugs. “You ask stupid questions for a smarty pants.”

“Touche.” Honestly, at this point, he’s pretty sure he should just get used to it. If this was what adult Adam was like...might be worth making a friend. Wouldn’t that drive Dean up the wall?

Adam half reaches for the empty plate behind him when Kevin says, “That’s it. They’re all gone.”

Adam’s eyes widen. “What?” He stares at the plate, then across the room at the cookie jar.

“Nope. All out.” Kevin confirms.

Adam is quiet for a moment, mouth working, before he looks at Kevin with sudden urgency. “We’ve gotta make more before they come back and find the jar empty!”

“No, you just want to eat more.” Kevin laughs.

Adam’s lower lip protrudes. Pouting.

“Well…” Kevin finds himself hedging. “I guess we could make more and then leave them one each.” He reasons.

Adam nods solemnly. “Agreed. Besides, if they ask, I’ll just tell them you ate them all.”

“Hey! I thought we were a united front against your brothers? They’ll never believe you, especially with that chocolate all over your face!”

“I’ll wash! Can’t stop me, prophet-man!” Adam pushes off the counter, nearly giving Kevin a heart attack as he lands with a rather unpleasant slap of bare feet against the tile, but Adam gets up like he throws himself off of stuff all the time and-

The sound of the bunker door unlocking and opening sounds through the place. Adam’s eyes widen as they land on Kevin.

“We’re screwed.” Kevin announces, just as Sam’s voice carries through the bunker.

“Hey, guys?”

#de-aged!adam fic #adam milligan #my fics #sometimes i write things #adventures of the winchester brothers three #WB3 fics #kevin tran #poor kev's gonna have whiplash #why are these Winchesters like this #i present you:#my garbage #how do i write kev i dunno #mobile keeps cutting it off there's more i swear if you haven't read about cookies try your desktop

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