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invisibleanonymousmonsters · 4 years

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no grave can hold my body down – 2/2

Character: Jason Todd x Fem!Reader

Summary: It took time to get Jason Todd away from the darkness. Sometimes it felt like he was always standing at a tipping point, at risk of completely losing himself. But not when he was with her. She made him better and she would continue to make him better.

Word Count: 9,000

A/N: I know there are a lot of contradicting opinions on Jason Todd’s height. But for my own wish fulfillment, he is 6′3/6′4ish in this fic.

Part 1

Y/N had fallen asleep after getting home from work. She had a long day and was so exhausted that she passed out as soon as she sat down on the couch. Jason had to take off her heels and drape a blanket over her.

Now he was dressed in his armored undershirt, cargo pants, leather jacket, and tactical boots. His red helmet was tucked under his arm, but he was already wearing a domino mask. If Bruce had taught him anything, it was to be prepared to a point of paranoia.

He crouched down to his knees.

Ever so gently, he brushed Y/N’s cheek.

“Y/N,” he whispered.

She stirred and winced a bit when she opened her eyes, the glare of the quiet television was suddenly harsh.

“What’s going on?” She asked, still half asleep.

“Nothing. Go back to sleep. I just wanted to tell you I’m leaving to go on patrol.”

“Mhmm. OK.” She hummed. “Be careful, J.”

If Y/N ever found out how un-careful the Red Hood was, she would never sleep and she’d probably beg Jason to quit his vigilantism.

“I love you,” he told her before kissing her on the forehead.

“Love you, too,” she said back so dreamily that it sounded like she was talking in her sleep.

Jason slipped out of the window. He purposely chose this apartment due to the direction the windows faced, the distance from approximate apartments, and the darkness that would prevent any wandering eyes from the neighbors.

He’d been patrolling for a few hours. It was oddly a quiet night. He assumed it had to do with how cold it was outside. Sometimes criminals were weak in the most obvious ways.

Jason was standing on a rooftop, taking a breather when he felt someone drop behind him. He knew his family all too well and could differentiate all of their footsteps. Which was why he didn’t immediately shoot Dick when he thought he’d try and surprise him.

“So, Y/N was quite the hit…” Dick said without giving Jason a proper greeting first.

“What are you still doing in town?” Jason answered.

Dick sighed. “B still needs a little help on the case.”

Jason nodded, not actually caring why Dick was still in Gotham.

Then an awkward silence washed over them. Well, Dick thought it was awkward. Jason couldn’t care less.

“Why won’t you talk about her with us?” Dick’s teasing was gone and his tone serious now.

Jason turned his head away from the city view and finally acknowledged his brother. “You don’t need to know anything about her,” his helmet distorted his words to make them sound even harsher than they already were.

“Doesn’t seem like she completely shares that view.”

Jason didn’t respond. He didn’t appreciate Dick speaking on Y/N’s behalf.

“Bruce seems to like her,” Dick added.

Jason’s head snapped to him. “As if I give a fuck,” he snapped.

Dick had the audacity to laugh. “How did the two of you meet anyway? She was living in New York City when the two of you first met, right?”

“Jesus,” Jason growled. “Did all of you run a background check on her?”

Dick shrugged. “What did you expect?”

————

Y/N didn’t have any idea where she was going. With the sun having already set, she couldn’t even figure out what direction she was headed.

But she had typed the address to her hotel into the Uber app and trusted it from there. She was also too preoccupied still answering the dozens of work emails on her phone.

“Hey lady, we’re here,” the driver said rudely after she didn’t realize they had stopped.

“Oh, sorry!” She said, writing the last few words of a sentence before pressing send.

She jumped out of the car and yelled a thanks before slamming the door shut.

To her surprise, the car raced off without a second’s hesitation.

But when Y/N turned around, she realized she was definitely not in the right place. And for the first time throughout the drive, she realized she was definitely in a bad area.

Y/N heard all of the terrible things about Gotham. Sometimes she wondered if the things about all of the crime were exaggerated by the news or if the city was really rotting from the inside like everyone said. What she definitely didn’t believe in was all the vigilantes that seemed to be protecting the city. No one could ever offer up any proof, even with every single human having a video camera in their hands at all times.

But now she wishing she’d taken people’s warnings a little bit more seriously.

This was definitely not Gotham Heights, where her nice hotel was located.

“Fuck,” she muttered as she whipped out her phone and instantly tried to call another Uber. But the app was being finicky and she was getting a loading screen for far too long.

Then she heard a group of men whistle at her. The streets were filled with literal dumpster fires. There were countless inoperable cars with broken windshields and without wheels. The only women she spotted looked like they were working the streets.

‘Walk, Y/N. Just walk. Act like you know where you’re going.’ Her brain was screaming at her.

So she did while remaining on high alert.

No matter how much she pretended to blend in, she was obviously out of place and sticking out like a sore thumb.

Her heart was racing and she tried to walk as fast as she could without fully running. She just hoped to get to a main street soon and try to catch a yellow cab, since apparently all her car-service apps decided not to work.

But suddenly, a man stepped onto the sidewalk, blocking Y/N’s path forward.

“You lost, sweetheart?” He cooed.

Y/N stopped and started backing away. But when she turned around, she saw that two men were waiting behind her.

“No need to be scared,” the same men said behind her, closer this time. “We just want to talk.”

‘Fuck this,’ Y/N thought before she decided to make a run for it.

But one of them grabbed her and shoved her to the side, pushing her into the alleyway she hadn’t realized they were right next to.

It was so dark that she could hardly make out the silhouettes of her attackers. But that wasn’t going to stop her from fighting. She immediately tried to shove past anyone in her vicinity and hit whoever was grabbing her.

“Get the fuck away from me!” She screamed, hoping that there was someone in this poisoned city that would try and help her.

Except she was outnumbered by three men, which ended in her getting shoved up the brick wall that lined the alley.

“I don’t have any money,” she gasped as a last ditch effort to save herself.

“Who said we wanted your money?” One of them chuckled darkly.

Before their words could hearten Y/N to try another defensive attack and escape, there was a strange zipping sound that echoed down into the alley.

Next thing Y/N knew, the man that was pressed up against her and pinning her to wall was flung off.

Y/N gasped and tried to get her eyes to adjust to the darkness enough so she could actually see what the hell was happening.

“It’s the hood!” One of the men yelled to his friends before making a run for it.

Then a gun was fired off – two shots.

Y/N yelped at the noise and covered her ears.

But when she looked back up, the man who had tried to escape was now on the ground, screaming in pain as he looked down at both of his knee caps that had been shot.

When Y/N turned her attention to the other two men, she finally saw who had interrupted their assault.

It was a man – if that was even what he was – dressed in military gear of some sort. But what really caught her attention was the red helmet that was reflecting the night light and allowing her to actually follow what was happening.

Y/N watched as he punched the daylights out of one of her attackers. She saw the man’s face get more and more covered with blood with each punch.

If Y/N was scared before, she was now terrified.

Without hesitating any longer, she too made a run for it, hoping she wouldn’t be shot like the other runaway.

She sprinted around the corner. But she only got a few yards before the same behemoth landed in front of her.

He was tall, and had to be at least 6’3. Men were confusingly short in New York, so Y/N was still trying to wrap her mind around having to tilt her head slightly up. But then she realized it wasn’t even his height that was jarring; it was how utterly hulking he was. His shoulders were so wide and his chest was massive. His thighs seemed to be the same width has her entire torso.

Everything about him was intimidating and imposing.

“I gotta give you credit for being that fast while wearing heels,” he said to her as he glanced down at her shoes.

It wasn’t exactly comforting that his voice seemed to also be distorted by the helmet.

Y/N was frozen in fear, truly not knowing what he was capable of or even what he wanted.

“You can relax. I’m not gonna hurt you,” he told her with his hands raised. His guns were no longer in his grip, but in their holsters at his thighs.

“You just killed three men,” Y/N told him with a shaky voice as she took a step back.

“I didn’t kill them. But if you want me to, I’d be happy to go back there and finish the job.”

“What? No!” Y/N cried out.

He had the audacity to chuckle at her reaction.

“Where exactly did you think you were going?” He asked her.

“This whole damsel-in-distress thing is new for me. But I thought it made sense to run away from the guy who was shooting people,” she told him quickly.

Jason was grateful that his mask hid all his emotions and facial expressions, because he was smiling at her sass.

He looked her up and down, taking in her outfit and just her overall look. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“What gave me away?”

He shrugged, ignoring the question. “What the hell are you doing in The Bowery? This is the most dangerous neighborhood in Gotham.”

“My Uber dropped me off here. I thought I was at my hotel and by the time I figured out I wasn’t, my driver had already sped away and left me for dead.”

He took a step toward her. “What’s a gal like you doing in Gotham?”

“I work for an art gallery in New York. But there was an event that I had to attend. I’ve been here all weekend.”

Why was she telling him any of this?

Jason nodded in understanding. “Come on,” he told her.

“W-What?” She asked nervously.

“You’re not gonna get a car in this area. You should report the driver who brought you here in the first place. He knew better.”

He walked past her.

Y/N looked around her, trying to figure out if she even had any other option. She knew he was right about a car, which was probably why she’d gotten a loading screen for all of them when it realized her location.

Yes, he was technically a masked criminal. But he did just save her life, no matter how terrifying it was to watch.

Y/N decided she didn’t have much of a choice.

Before she could move, a motorcycle was being pulled up alongside her.

Y/N eyed it for a moment.

“What’s your name?” She asked him, as if it would make the situation any safer.

“Red Hood,” he told her.

Y/N nodded, not surprised that it didn’t make her feel any better. She realized she was in no position to ask for his real identity. She knew enough about vigilantes to understand that they only survived from hiding their true selves from the criminals they fought and the law enforcement who thought what they were doing was wrong.

“Where are you staying?” He asked her.

“Crest Hill Hotel,” she told him.

“Fancy,” he teased. “Hop on.”

Y/N hesitated before following his instructions. She sat awkwardly on the back of the motorcycle, unsure of what to do.

“You’re gonna want to hold on, beautiful.” He told her over his shoulder as he revved the engine.

Y/N tried to ignore the heat that rushed to her face as he called her ‘beautiful,’ and then she tried to ignore how wide and strong his torso felt as she reached to hold on.

It took 20 minutes to get to her hotel, proving that the Uber driver really hadn’t given a crap about how incorrect her original address had been.

Jason had decided to drop her off in the back entrance to avoid a scene of the infamous Red Hood dropping off an average citizen. He didn’t need that type of attention and Y/N shouldn’t be tied to him in any way.

Y/N got off the motorcycle with a surprising grace and turned to him.

“Thank you for…saving me,” she told him gently.

“It was nothing,” he told her.

Y/N just watched him for a moment, wondering what he looked like under that red helmet and without all the armor.

“What’s your name?” He surprised her by asking.

“Y/N. Y/F/N Y/L/N.”

She didn’t know why she felt comfortable giving her surname. But it just came out.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N. Though, I wish it had been under better circumstances.”

Y/N suddenly dug into her purse, making sure she still had her phone and even just the key to her hotel room.

“Fuck,” she muttered without realizing it.

“What is it?” Jason asked.

“Nothing. I just…it sounds stupid, but I have a little notebook to write down ideas for – well, for my artwork. But it must’ve fallen out back in that alleyway when those guys shoved me against the wall.”

When she looked up at him, it was impossible to know what he was thinking.

“Anyways, thank you again.” She turned to finally walk away.

“Y/N?”

She shouldn’t love how much she loved the sound of him saying her name.

Y/N turned around.

“Stay close to the hotel. Gotham is different than New York City.”

She nodded.

————————

“So, when did you see her again?” Dick questioned after he listened to Jason’s retelling.

“I was helping out a friend with a job in NYC. Things got ugly. I may or may not have been shot when I showed up at her window. Her apartment was in the area and I needed a place to lay low.”

Dick laughed. “Uh huh. Sure you did.”

Jason ignored him. “Anyways, I’d gone back to the alley that night and found that notebook she was talking about, and gave it to her to make up for bleeding all over her couch.”

“Always the romantic,” Dick teased.

Their conversation came to a halt. Instead of talking, they both listened to the city noises that Gotham brought.

“Listen, Jason, I know I did a poor job of being there for you and actually acting like a brother. And I also know you haven’t always been my biggest fan.”

Jason stayed quiet.

“But you deserve to be happy. And we both know Y/N does that.” Dick sighed. “But you don’t talk about her with us and you kept her from even just meeting us after years of you two dating. If we weren’t all noisy and paranoid, we wouldn’t know a thing about her.”

“What’s your point, Dick?” Jason asked roughly.

“No one ever wants to acknowledge this, especially you…but you’re more like Bruce than any of us. And you’ve seen how he pushes people away, keeping them at a distance. Y/N wants to be a part of your life, your whole life. And that includes all of us – whether you like it or not. So, what I’m saying is you don’t have to hide her from us.”

Dick knew not to expect a response from Jason. So he left him where he found him and gave him his space once again.

Jason didn’t have anything to say anyway.

Dick’s words made him angry more than anything. Because he knew they were true. Yes, he saw how Bruce behaved with women. It was promiscuous and casual, because anything else was too close for comfort. Bruce’s priority would always be Batman. And Bruce knew that no significant other deserved his lack of commitment – no matter how much they might love each other.

—————

Y/N was doing her nightly routine and applying moisturizer to her face when she heard it. She could be acting paranoid, but her instincts were telling her something was off.

No, someone was here.

Jason made a point of being loud and immediately announcing when he got home as to not scare her. So, it couldn’t be him.

As quietly as possible, Y/N tiptoed out of the bathroom and to her side of the bed where she kept a titanium baseball bat. Jason had offered her multiple times to teach her how to shoot a gun. But Y/N wanted nothing to do with them.

With the bat in hand, Y/N snuck her way to the living room where she heard the sound.

She had turned off all the lights, making it hard for her to see clearly.

But she did see a large mass standing in the middle of her living room. With just a bit of hesitation, Y/N swung the bat. But the intruder caught the bat, stopping her attack.

They stepped into the moonlight, finally allowing Y/N to see that it was Batman in his full uniform, cowl still on.

“What the fuck. Are you trying to give me a heart attack?” Y/N snapped at him.

“I apologize. I didn’t mean to startle you,” Bruce defended.

But Y/N was still irritated. “Jason isn’t here.”

“I know. I came to talk to you.”

She froze. “Me?”

“I need a favor.”

Y/N narrowed her gaze. “I highly doubt I could do anything to help you.”

“You’re wrong. This has to do with your job. You work at The Drago House.”

Y/N tilted her head and crossed her arms. “Yes.”

“It’s owned by the Ibanescu family. They use it as a front for human trafficking.”

Y/N shook her head. “That can’t be possible…”

“Don’t underestimate the crime families of Gotham, Y/N.”

“So, why do you need me?”

“There are files and codecs that would decipher who their buyers are and where they hold auctions around the world. Nothings digital. They’re old school. With that information, we could shut done their operation forever.”

Y/N’s face was serious now. “What do you need me to do?”

“You have always had access to all the information. You just never knew it. All I need is for you to scan the files.”

She now looked at him suspiciously. “Don’t they say you're the world’s greatest detective? I find it hard to believe that you’d have problems breaking into the gallery after hours to get them for yourself…”

“It’s only completely lockdown as soon as it closes every night. Their security system is high-end and resets every 24 hours. Could we get into it eventually? Yes. But we’ve already been at it for weeks. And we’ve received word that there’s a big…” He hesitated. “…shipment happening any day. We don’t have time to waste.”

Y/N thought about what he was telling her.

“Why didn’t you go to Jason?” She finally asked.

“You said Jason doesn’t tell you what to do.”

Y/N glared at him for using her own words against her.

The apartment went quiet again.

Then Y/N nodded slowly. “There’s an opening tomorrow night. I can get them then.”

—————

Dick’s words haunted Jason for the rest of the night. He wanted to cut patrolling early and just get back to Y/N.

Now he swiftly moved into his apartment from the fire escape and immediately took off his helmet and domino mask underneath.

But Jason froze when he saw Y/N’s bat in the middle of the living room.

His heart raced at the immediate assumption that something happened to her. The furniture was untouched and there were no other signs of trouble, but he still rushed towards the bedroom anyway.

“Y/N?” He called out, despite it being nearly 4AM.

He let out a sigh of relief when he found Y/N slowly waking up from their bed.

“J?” She murmured, half asleep.

“Y/N, why is the bat in the living room?” Jason asked as he rubbed his face and then sat on the edge of the bed near her. Without even thinking, he cupped her cheek.

She rubbed her eyes, trying to wake up more. “I thought I heard something and freaked myself out. But it was nothing.”

“Y/N, how many times do I have to tell you? Call me when shit like that happens.”

“But it was nothing,” she repeated. “What?” She added with a sigh when he was giving her that disapproving look.

“I don’t care if it ends up being nothing. If you’re scared, then I’m going to be here. OK?” Then he finalized his point with a quick kiss to her lips.

She nodded. “OK.”

Then she looked him up and down, realizing that he was still completely in his Red Hood gear, only without his helmet.

“You OK?” She asked in a whisper. Her eyes already scanning his body for any obvious injuries.

“I’m fine,” Jason sighed. “I was just worried about you when I saw the bat. I thought something…”

Y/N quickly sat up in bed. “Hey, hey, hey. I’m fine. I’m OK. I was just being paranoid. I should’ve put the bat back. I’m sorry.”

A comfortable and reassuring silence settled between them.

“Why don’t you take a shower and come to bed?” Y/N offered softly.

Jason nodded and kissed her again.

As soon as he was out of the room, Y/N ran a hand over her face.

She hated lying to Jason. He didn’t deserve it. But she also knew he wouldn’t let her anywhere near an operation that Bruce was trying to pull off. This had to be the same thing that Tim had pulled Jason aside for at the gala.

But Bruce made one thing clear: he needed her help. And he wouldn’t do so if he wasn’t desperate.

———————-

The next night, Y/N couldn’t stop sweating and her heart rate was out of control. She tried to act like this was just another day of work, greeting customers, explaining the pieces, and answering questions.

But the need to get into the back offices when everyone else was gone would not stop nagging her.

With shaky hands, she tapped her ID on the scanner. Usually at this point in an event, all of her colleagues were either on the floor or had called it the end of their work day and headed home.

By some miracle, that was exactly the case.

Y/N locked the door behind her, never having seen a purpose for doing so any other day of working at the gallery.

“OK. OK. OK. Breathe,” she muttered to herself as her eyes scanned the room.

She knew where all the files were in the room. And Bruce had given her the keys to knowing what to look for. Now it was just a matter of putting the two together.

Y/N instantly went to work and started shuffling through papers, finding what was needed.

Bruce had given her a special pen that would scan every file within a second no matter what angle it was pointed at, so Y/N wouldn’t have any suspicious photos on her cellphone.

Y/N was almost done, covered in sweat and with shaking hands, when the door started jiggling.

She swore her heart was about to burst out of her chest.

With pure adrenaline, Y/N quickly put back the files that were in her hand.

But the person on the other side of the door was clearly getting impatient quickly and continued to mess with the doorknob.

Y/N jumped when it was finally kicked open. She whipped around to stare at a man who was nearly the size of Jason, but looked far deadlier. She’d never seen him at the gallery before, which meant he was definitely part of Ibanescu’s gang.

“Can I help you?” She snapped rudely, trying to use her authority to hide her fear.

“What are you doing in here?” He accused.

“I work here. Who the hell are you?”

He ignored her question. “Why was the door locked?”

“You still haven’t told me who you are,” Y/N shot back.

And with that, she straightened her posture and started walking past him. But this man wasn’t as stupid as he looked. Just as she thought she’d slipped away, the man grabbed her by the arm.

“Excuse me,” Y/N hissed.

But he ignored her and started dragging her into the back storage area of the gallery and further away from the crowd.

Y/N tried to rip her arm from his grasp but his grip was vice-like and didn’t even seem fazed by her efforts to escape.

This was not good.

While Y/N was still hopeful that she could possibly talk her way out, she was also realistic.

Which is why she hit a button on her watch.

Jason had gifted it to her very early on in their relationship. It was a classic chronograph watch. But he had installed a panic button onto it.

“If something ever happens – even if you think you’re being overly cautious – you push this and it will send out a signal that I can track. I’ll be there before you know it.” That’s what he had told her when he gifted it, and she’d worn it every day since.

A few seconds later, Y/N was being shoved through the door that led to the back alley.

There was a group of men, just as large and intimidating as the one who still had a grip on her arm.

It was pouring rain and freezing outside. But the slight overhand of the building into the alley protected them slightly.

“What the fuck is this?” One of them asked.

“I found her snooping around in the offices,” he announced.

“I’m one of the directors of this gallery!” Y/N bit back. “I was checking the price points on pieces for a potential customer.”

“The door was locked,” the man added.

They all seemed to be looking at each other.

Y/N was frozen, trying to wait for the perfect moment to make a run for it.

But then she saw one of the men, who appeared to be in charge, eye the pen that was clipped to the pocket of her pants. She prayed that he was too stupid to think it was anything more than just a writing utensil.

But then he slowly walked up to her. He grabbed the pen from her pocket and inspected it.

Y/N swore time froze. She couldn’t hear anything. She couldn’t feel the tight grip on her arm that was surely going to bruise her.

Then the man’s gaze shifted from the pen to her eyes.

“Get her in the car,” he told the group.

Y/N’s heart dropped.

Without hesitating, she immediately started to fight the man holding her. With a swift motion, she kneed him hard in the groin, making him let out a growl and keel over. But he dropped his grip on her arm.

Despite wearing heels, she made a run for it. She didn’t get far, but she got far enough into the rain that she was already drenched.

Another man grabbed her, shoving her against the building and clenching her throat to a point of suffocation.

“You stupid bitch,” her original captor spat as he backhanded her across the face.

Y/N blinked as a ringing started in her ears and her face stung with pain.

“Get her in the car before you make a fuckin’ scene,” the leader warned.

But before they could respond to the command, the street lights went out, causing a surge of darkness to blind all of them.

Y/N tried to step away from her attackers as her eyes adjusted to the darkness. But she couldn’t see a damn thing. The pouring rain was only making it more impossible.

It wasn’t until one of the men cried out in pain and guns started firing that she could see anything. Except it was too fast for her to make out a clear picture. Every so often, a lightning strike or a muzzle flash would give her a short glimpse.

Lo and behold, Batman was taking out the men one by one. But every time Y/N’s eyes focused on his tall silhouette, he’d disappear. She couldn’t keep track of his movements. And apparently neither could any of Ibanescu’s men.

“Shoot the girl!” One of the men yelled.

Y/N’s eyes widened when two of the men turned their guns on her.

But just before they fired off their rounds, a small force tackled her to the side and behind the safety of a giant dumpster.

Y/N looked up to see a young boy shielding her with his own body.

Damian.

Things were so chaotic that she hadn’t even registered he was there, too.

Before she could say anything to him, there was another presence that dropped down beside her. The next second, she was being grabbed and pulled into the sky.

From the feel of his arms alone, Y/N immediately recognized it as Jason.

His grappling gun had brought them to the roof of the building.

Once their feet were grounded onto the roof, Jason barely stepped away and grabbed her shoulders.

Y/N couldn’t read his face from his helmet. But the subtle movements of his head made it clear that he was scanning her body to see if she’d been hit. It only took a few seconds to be convinced that she was clear.

Then he was grasping her face. “Stay here,” he told her before he used his grappling gun to vault back down into the alleyway.

Y/N ran to the edge of the room to look down.

When Jason returned to the fight below, he was ruthless.

Damian had seen the Red Hood with a vengeance many a time. But this… this was something different.

No bone was left unbroken.

Jason wasn’t just neutralizing these men…he was out for blood and pain.

The leader of the little gang was on his knees, covered in his own blood, when he looked up at Jason, who had a gun pointed just centimeters from his head.

“Red Hood, no!” Bruce growled as he threw a batarang, knocking Jason’s gun away from its almost-victim.

Jason whipped his head around. “They were going to kill her!”

“I wasn’t going to let that happen,” Bruce countered.

While they talked, Damian knocked out the man Jason almost murdered. By now, all of them were knocked unconscious or so injured that they couldn’t even open their eyes.

Jason’s entire body froze, realizing what had really happened. Bruce and Damian didn’t just happen to be there to save his girlfriend. This was their doing. They were the ones who had put her in this dangerous situation to begin with.

“What the fuck did you do?” Jason thundered.

Just as a flash of lightening struck, he turned to face Bruce, finding his new prey.

“She had an in and I asked her to use it,” Bruce explained evenly. “She agreed.”

“Of course she fucking agreed!” Jason yelled over the rain. “She’d never say no to helping! And you knew that, and you took advantage of it!”

Then he raised his gun, pointing it at Bruce.

“Put the gun down, Red Hood.”

“Fuck you,” Jason hissed.

The next thing Y/N knew, Jason shot a bullet towards Bruce, causing her to let out a yell from above. In her heart she knew he hadn’t aimed to kill, but Bruce dodged the shot anyway.

Now the two men were fully fighting each other. Bruce seemed to be pulling his punches and just trying to remain on the defense. But Jason wanted revenge. Yes, Bruce and him had a dark history. But putting Y/N in danger erupted something inside Jason that made him see red in a way he never had before.

Just as Y/N was going to call out for Jason to stop, she heard someone drop beside her on the roof.

Dick stood a few feet away, standing tall in his Nightwing uniform.

“Dick, do something!” She begged.

“I can stop Bats, but I can’t stop him,” he told her.

“Then get me the fuck down there! Use your zip-line thingy!”

“Zip-line thingy?” Dick repeated, clearly offended. “This is a grappling–”

“Dick!” Y/N cut him off.

“Right, sorry.” He grabbed her, held her body tight to him, and lowered them down back to the alley.

When Y/N looked up, Bruce was on his knees, trying to catch his breath.

But Jason wasn’t done with him.

“You made it clear that you don’t give a shit about me. But putting the one person I love in danger just for you to solve a case? You’ve reached a new low,” Jason yelled as he slowly started to walk towards Bruce.

But before Jason could reach him, Y/N blocked his path.

She was soaking wet and shivering from both the cold rain and the shock.

Jason could already see the bruises covering her neck and face. He also didn’t miss the small line of blood that had trickled down her nose.

“Jason,” she whimpered. “That’s enough.”

He froze.

Y/N walked to him. “Please, just take me home,” she whispered.

Just seeing her made Jason’s entire body relax. But he was also reminded that she was the priority, not Bruce.

Noticing her shivering, he took off his leather jacket and wrapped it around her shoulders.

Bruce, Dick, and Damian were barely able to see the short, loving moment before Jason flung a smoke capsule onto the ground, covering him and Y/N as he brought her into his arms.

By the time the smoke disappeared, Jason and Y/N were gone.

—————-

When Jason and Y/N got back to their apartment, Jason when into autopilot mode of nursing Y/N. He pulled her into their bathroom and immediately started helping her out of her wet clothes. Y/N couldn’t stop shaking, and he noticed.

Jason only left her side for the split moment when he turned to start the shower, making sure to make it extra hot.

Then he was right back at her side, taking off his uniform and matching her nudity.

When he gently tugged her into their abnormally large shower, there was nothing sexual about it.

Now that Y/N’s skin was bare to him, he looked at all the injuries she had.

There were a few scrapes that would heal in a week or so. But Jason’s gaze went dark every time they lingered on the bruises across her throat, face, and bicep. He should’ve killed all of those bastards.

Y/N leaned into Jason’s chest. “I’m sorry,” she muttered. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Because she knew that’s what this was. Jason wasn’t mad at her – at least, not yet. That could very much come later. But no, right now, he was scared. He put so much energy into keeping Y/N away from his other life, only for her to be thrown right into the center of it. And it wasn’t even his doing; it was Bruce’s.

“I know,” he bent down to whisper in her ear as he wrapped his arms around her.

Y/N didn’t know how long they stayed in the shower. But eventually Jason turned off the water and wrapped Y/N around in a fluffy white towel. She looked so young and innocent.

He moved her to their bedroom and sat her down on the edge of the bed.

Y/N watched him as he moved about the room, getting each of them clothes – all from his own closet.

“Are you hungry?” He asked her carefully as he handed her a pair of his sweatpants and one of his hoodies.

She shook her head.

Jason wasn’t surprised. One of the side effects of trauma and shock was a loss of appetite. But he made her drink a huge glass of water before he let her get in bed. And he made a mental note to make a big breakfast tomorrow when her body recovered and realized how starving it was.

When they were both finally under the covers, Jason didn’t hesitate to pull Y/N completely in his arms, smothering her with his giant frame. She welcomed his touch and warmth, burying her face into his chest.

Neither of them knew who needed this closeness more.

Tonight had been scary. Y/N knew Jason’s anger was bound to show up at some point. But right now, both of them were just grateful they were okay.

————————-

To Y/N’s surprise, she woke up in bed alone.

But her concern didn’t last long as she heard Jason moving around in the kitchen and she could hear soft music was playing if she listened hard enough.

When Y/N moved to get out of bed, she felt all the soreness that came from being grabbed and thrown around like she was last night. She winced, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. But she made a mental note to hide any signs that she was in pain from Jason.

Over their time together, Y/N and Jason got disturbingly good at reading one another. So, when Y/N walked into the kitchen to find Jason making breakfast, she immediately sensed things were not good. It wasn’t the cooking that tipped her off. His naked back was to her and she could somehow see the tension in his shoulders – in his whole body.

Y/N knows he heard her as soon as she walked into the kitchen.

“There’s coffee,” he says without turning around from the stove. He’s making pancakes. Chocolate chip pancakes, to be precise.

Y/N pours herself some coffee and sits at the table, watching him.

A few minutes pass before she’s had enough of the tension.

“If you’re gonna yell at me, then yell at me,” she told him.

Jason froze for a moment, but then quickly looked at her over his shoulder. “When have I ever yelled at you?”

He had a point.

Yes, Jason was once filled with only rage. There was a reason some feared Red Hood more than the Batman. He was ruthless. Fueled by vengeance, his temper, and his disappointment in the evil that plagued the world. He fought his enemies, but he also fought with his friends and family.

But Jason Todd was none of those things with Y/N. He never lost his temper with her. He never projected his rage and hardships from what he saw as Red Hood onto her. He’d never even raised his voice with her.

“I know,” Y/N admitted. “But I also know you’re still angry.”

Jason sighed, turning off the stove and bringing a giant plate of pancakes to the table.

But Y/N couldn’t eat while having this discussion.

Jason leaned back in his chair and crossed his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You wouldn’t have let me do it,” Y/N countered.

“Yeah, and for good reason.”

“He used you, Y/N.” Jason tried to explain. “You’re untrained… with no exposure to this world. He knew not to involve you and he went behind my back to do it anyway.”

Y/N lowered her head in shame. There was a part of her that felt useless. She couldn’t jump around rooftops and save those who needed it. She was just…normal.

“I just wanted to help,” she mumbled.

Jason leaned forward from seeing her upset. “Y/N, come here.” He reached for her hand and baited her towards him.

She took his offer and moved from her chair to straddle his lap.

Jason held her waist tightly as he pressed his forehead to her’s. “I don’t want to lose you,” he whispered.

“You’re not going to,” she reassured him.

“Please, I’m begging you, don’t ever do something like that again.”

Y/N’s heart hurt at how desperate he sounded. She had realized far too quickly that Jason wasn’t scared of death. He was only scared of her death.

“I promise,” she told him.

“You scared the fucking shit out of me, Y/N.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

Jason accepted her apology with a kiss. But it didn’t end quickly. In fact, it got more heated and hungrier. His grip got firmer on her waist.

Y/N knew where this was going, especially as he thumbed the hem of her hoodie and sweatpants. But they both needed this.

“The pancakes, Jason.” She warned him.

Jason smiled as he pulled away from her lips. “Fuck the pancakes,” he told her in between kisses. “I’m takin’ you back to bed.”

—————————

A few weeks had passed since the incident. Y/N tried to get her relationship with Jason back to normal. He still insisted on keeping his vigilante life away from her. But there was more of an understanding for why now.

However, tension had risen again a couple days after the attack, when they received an interesting gift in the mail. They had opened a rather large envelope addressed to the both of them.

Inside were two first-class plane tickets to Paris with their names on them and an open reservation at Hotel Le Royal Monceau.

Y/N had stared at them with more of an understanding than Jason.

She’d looked up at Jason. “I…I told him I’ve always wanted to go to Paris when I first met him at the gala.”

He’d glared at the gift. “Typical Bruce. If he can’t punch his way out of an issue, he’ll try and buy it.”

Neither of them had said anything about actually using tickets and reservation. It just collected dust on one of their end tables.

Now Y/N sat in their apartment alone, reading another one of Jason’s books, when her cell started ringing.

It was a number she didn’t know, but she decided to answer it anyway.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Y/L/N, it’s Alfred Pennyworth,” a charming voice answered back.

Y/N couldn’t help, but smile. As if she knew more than one Alfred in the world. “Hi, Alfred.”

“I thought it would be a good time to give you that lesson you asked for. Are you free today?”

Y/N looked around her apartment. All of her plans for today had consisted of laying around, drinking coffee, doing a bit of reading.

“Yes, today would be great.”

—————

Y/N wouldn’t make the same mistake twice and had given Jason the heads up on her change of plans.

Seeing as Jason had no issue with Alfred, he didn’t seem too bothered bit it all. But he did still tell her to be careful and ended the call with a sincere, “I love you.”

It was strange going back to Wayne Manor when there wasn’t a gala being held there.

Y/N thought it would seem more like a home this time around, but it still felt like a museum to her. And yet, she still had imposter syndrome as she walked through the threshold.

Alfred gave her a warm smile as he opened the door. “It is lovely to see you again, Ms. Y/L/N.”

“Alfred, please, it’s just Y/N.”

He nodded. Then he gestured for her to follow him. “Come. I have a station set up in the cave.”

Y/N stuttered to a stop. “Cave? As in the Bat Cave?”

Alfred seemed amused with her hesitation and concern. “Of course.”

“Should I be – Is that even OK?” Y/N fumbled through her question.

“Well, I don’t see the point of hiding it from you. It’s not like you don’t know all the family secrets already, dear.”

Y/N blinked at that and finally continued following him.

Alfred led her through the secret passage way as if he was taking her to the dining room. She tried to control her reactions and not come off too interested in the details of it all. But it was rather hard.

Just like Alfred told her, there was a little medical station set up in a brighter lit area of the dark and dingy cave.

Y/N half expected him to bring up the recent drama that she’d caused. But ever the gentleman, Alfred didn’t so much as mention it.

He also did as he promised, going through everything she could ever need to know while tending to Jason. He even had little models to practice sewing stitches on. He was a good teacher and Y/N was soaking it all up like a sponge.

She couldn’t imagine her going to med school at any point. But knowing these skills were going to be used to help Jason made it easier to retain.

After hours of teaching, the cave awoke as a carport opened and the batmobile sped in.

Y/N internally swore. She’d hoped not to run into Bruce with this visit. He never seemed to be home, so the odds had seemed low. But clearly she’d messed that up.

Bruce stepped out of the car, taking in the two of them.

“Any injuries, Master Wayne?” Alfred asked politely.

Bruce was about to lie, but he glanced down at his abdomen where it was quite obvious he was bleeding.

“Perfect. My pupil can practice on you,” Alfred announced.

Y/N’s eyes widened in panic. “Oh! That’s definitely a bad idea…”

“Nonsense. Best way to learn is under pressure,” he winked. “I shall go off and start dinner. Let me know if you’re near death, Master Wayne.”

Y/N watched him leave, regretting ever having come here.

When she turned back around, Bruce was removing his cowl.

“He’s right,” Bruce admitted. “Best way to learn is under pressure.” Then he moved to sit in the medical chair.

Y/N swallowed, realizing how dry her mouth was. “Right.”

Her hands shook as she tried to remember everything Alfred had been through. But she knew in the back of her mind that Bruce was fully capable of stitching himself up. So, as much as this was a set up from Alfred, Bruce wasn’t running away from it like she had tried to.

Y/N hadn’t said a word as she cleaned his wound, only apologizing when she thought was necessary – even though he never made a sound of pain or even so much as winced.

Bruce seemed to be following her lead, not wanting to force her to talk if she didn’t want to.

But after 20 minutes or so of silence, Y/N couldn’t take it any longer.

“You know, you can’t buy his forgiveness,” she said as she focused on her stitches.

“I wasn’t only looking for his forgiveness…”

Her eyes flickered to meet his awaiting gaze. “You can’t buy mine either.”

“I owe you an apology,” Bruce began to her surprise. “I should have never involved you. It was dangerous, despite how in control of situation I thought I was.”

“I agreed to it,” Y/N offered. Then she looked at him again. “But I accept your apology.”

A moment passed before Y/N asked, “Are you going to say that to him, too?”

“I would if he would even consider talking to me.”

With that comment, Y/N put down her tools for a second and straightened her posture. “I may not know you very well, Bruce. But I do know that you and Jason are more alike than either of you care to admit.”

She hesitated on continuing. Did Bruce even deserve advice from her?

“He was hurt. And he showed all of you that hurt by being angry, because he didn’t know how else to tell you. He doesn’t feel heard and he doesn’t feel seen. He was lost. And it’s hard for him to just forget how you all handled it.” She took in a deep breath. “But I know he still sees all of you as his family. And you’re the closest thing he’s ever had to a real father.”

Then she quickly grabbed her tools again and cleared her throat. “So, get over yourself, and just talk to him. And I mean actually talk to him – not as Batman and Red Hood, but as Jason and Bruce.”

The cave went quiet.

Y/N couldn’t help herself and looked up at Bruce. Either she was losing her mind or he was giving her a very shy smirk.

“What?” She blurted out.

But before he could answer, a motorcycle sped into the cave.

Y/N would recognize Jason’s bike anywhere. But he wasn’t in uniform. Instead, opting for his black leather jacket and a normal tinted motorcycle helmet.

After he took it off, he eyed the two of them, trying to read the room.

“Hey,” Y/N said shyly.

“Figured I’d come and pick you up,” Jason answered her unasked question, ignoring Bruce.

Y/N looked down at Bruce’s injury. “Actually, I’m all done here.”

“Thank you,” Bruce said sincerely as Y/N covered the wound with a bandage. “You’ll be a better nurse than Alfred in no time.”

Y/N grinned and took off her gloves.

But then she met Jason’s unsure gaze. They had a silent conversation.

“I’m gonna go say goodbye to Alfred,” she quickly told Jason, but really she was telling both of them. “Meet me out front when you’re ready?”

Jason hesitated, but nodded.

Y/N walked to him and gave him a quick kiss for comfort and encouragement.

And then she was off, leaving the two men alone.

Jason shifted his weight, not knowing where to start.

“You’re lucky to have her,” Bruce finally spoke.

Jason winced even though it was a compliment. “I don’t deserve her.”

Bruce stood up. “That’s not true.”

“You of all people know I’m not a good man, Bruce.”

He shook his head. “We may have different views on how to save this city. But we both want the same thing. That doesn’t mean you’re not a good man, Jason.”

Jason blinked at his statement.

“I owe you an apology for... a lot,” Bruce began. “The first is putting that girl in danger.” He paused. “The second was not protecting you – before and after everything that happened.”

“You mean before and after I died?” Jason wasn’t going to make this easy for him.

Bruce’s jaw clenched at that.

“Anything else you want to apologize for?” Jason challenged.

“Yes,” Bruce confirmed. “But I get the feeling that you don’t want to hear it all right now.”

There was a pause.

“You’ll always be my son, Jason. Even if you no longer see me as your father.”

Jason’s eyes filled with tears at Bruce’s words. But he held them back. He couldn’t break down. He couldn’t be weak. Not here. Not now. Not like this.

He couldn’t take any more of this discussion. But he knew this was what he’d been wanting to hear from Bruce for so long.

“I’ll see you around, Bruce.” He told him before putting his helmet back on.

But Bruce had one last thing to say. “Keep her close. Don’t be like me, Jason.”

‘Don’t push people who love you away and make this darkness be your only life,’ was what Bruce would never actually have the courage to say.

Jason now had the cover of his helmet to hide his expressions. But he gave Bruce one last glance before tearing out of the cave.

—————

As Jason pulled his motorcycle up to the front of the manor to pick of Y/N, Damian was playing out front with Titus on the gravel drive.

“Hey, Demon Spawn,” Jason greeted after taking off his helmet.

“Todd,” the boy replied coldly.

To his surprise, Jason got off his bike and walked to him with his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket.

Damian eyed him.

“I saw what you did that night. You saved her life,” Jason said.

Damian waited.

Jason held out his hand. “I just wanted to thank you.”

The boy hesitated before finally shaking it.

Jason didn’t expect Damian to say anything. But he did know talking to him like an adult, instead of a kid, was the only way to get through to him.

Then Y/N was walking out to them with Alfred lingering in the doorway.

“Hi, Damian,” she greeted sweetly before greeting his dog as well.

“Hi, Y/N.”

Jason was surprised he even remembered her name.

“Ready to go?” He asked Y/N.

She nodded. But then reached up to touch the white in his hair. She seemed to have a fondness for it. And Jason didn’t seem to mind.

“You OK?” She asked.

He nodded. “Better.”

She gave him a shy but encouraging look. “I’m glad.”

“I love you, you know,” Jason breathed.

“I know,” she smiled.

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

Oh lordy. That took way longer than I was expecting. But kept my mind off of this dumpster fire of a country. And I hope reading it did the same for you ❤️

#jason todd #jason todd fic #jason todd x reader #jason todd reader insert #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood #red hood x reader #red hood fic #red hood reader insert #dick grayson #damian wayne #bruce wayne #batman #batfam #batman universe

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moostaronce · 3 years

Text

Over the Heart

Request: omg that jinsoul one was so cute! can you do one for olivia hye with some angst? thank you!

A/N I’m glad you liked it! I hope this one is to your liking as well.

Pairing: Olivia Hye x Fem Reader

How did things get so screwed up? Just 24 hours ago Hyejoo thought she’d be in your arms right now, not watching you walk away from her in disappointment. In fact, she’s disappointed in herself too. It all started last night when Yeojin went to Sooyoung for advice. A classmate of hers that knew you mentioned that they had seen you on a date to Yeojin since they knew you were friends. Obviously, the maknae is aware that you’re in a relationship with Hyejoo, so she sought Sooyoung’s advice before going straight to Hyejoo. Sooyoung ended up telling her on Yeojin’s behalf.

At first, it didn’t bother her. She told them to mind their business if they didn’t see anything themselves. I mean, why would she listen to something Yeojin’s classmate thought they saw. So She brushed it off and never even brought it up to you. Then, one afternoon Sooyoung came to her again and said that this time she saw you herself and presented Hyejoo with a picture. It was you and a foreign-looking blonde girl laughing together at the cafe that you usually frequent with Hyejoo.

Obviously, now that there was clear evidence the raven-haired girl couldn't help the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. How could you do this and still come smile in her face like that? It didn't go as planned though. She wanted to confront you about your alleged affair but she didn't know how to. She thought about how she could approach you but she actually let it fester for almost a week before making any move.

Then came today, only minutes before this exact moment had she looked at you and put forth the accusations. Except now she was the one left crying as you revealed the truth.

"Hyejoo, she's a foreign exchange student at my school. We were language exchanging. She's been teaching me Russian every other day so I can learn it and teach you too and I've been helping her improve her English. I was trying to create another excuse for us to spend time together that BBC wouldn't mind. Is this how little you think of your own girlfriend?"

The hurt in your eyes only moments ago left her dumbfounded. She hated how you looked at her right now. Your beautiful eyes brimming with yet unshed tears and the way you clenched the promise ring that you had put on a necklace and you never took off. But she could actually hear her own heart start cracking in half when you reach up to take it off.

"Wait! J-Jagi you can't be serious. It was a misunderstanding, what are you doing right now?"

Hyejoo could feel sweat beginning to form on her brow and her distress levels were through the roof. You never took your ring off. Never.

"Clearly you can't trust me Hyejoo, maybe we need some time apart. Let's just take a break." You finally unclasp the necklace and place it in the palm of Hyejoo's reluctant hand.

There it was 'Let's take a break.' She had heard from her older members that always meant that it was over without saying it's over. The deflated look on her face must have triggered your affections for her because you gave her one more hug before you turned around.

"It's just a break Hyejoo, not a breakup."

With that, you turned around and began walking away. Hyejoo didn't call out for you she just let the tears fall silently. What could she say? You needed space and she wanted to give you that. She clenches your ring in her hand as hot tears spill from her eyes, effectively blinding her from the sight of your back. The physical symbol of your love, no longer hovering over your heart, where it belongs, but burning itself into the palm of her hand.

When you're gone she returns to the dorms where all of her members are sitting in the living room watching TV. Gowon looks over at the sound of the door but frowns when she sees her friend with tears streaming down her face.

"Hyejoo?" All the members turn to her with worried looks and then a collective gasp is heard when she holds up your necklace for them to see.

"She thinks it's best we take a break." Hyejoo's voice comes out the smallest they've ever heard it. But the two people she didn't even want to look at right now were the first to speak up.

"She wanted a break? After cheating on you with that random girl?" Yeojin practically screamed.

"I oughtta go over there and teach her a lesson myself," Sooyoung grumbled.

"Shut up." She said it so quiet that they almost missed it.

Tensions multiply in the room as the other members spectate what's about to go down. On one hand, Yeojin reads the room and gets quiet immediately. On the other, Sooyoung looks prepared to do battle with the younger girl.

"Excuse me?" Her tone is meant to be intimidating, meant to shut down any further disrespect or argument. It may have worked if she wasn't trying it on Hyejoo of all people.

"I said shut up! Because of you and Yeojin, I may have just lost my girlfriend forever! She wasn't cheating on me, that girl is a foreign exchange student that's living with her family. Now she wants a break but she gave the ring back. Why can't she keep it if she's planning on coming back to me?" With each sentence, her shouting turned into a whimper.

Hyejoo didn't have the strength to walk off and cry in private, so she broke down right there in front of her members. The girls watched in panic and shock as Hyejoo let out a sob that racked her whole body, only pain in her body and mind. Jiwoo was the first to move, she cautiously approached the younger girl and pulled her into a hug. Hyejoo didn't protest. Instead, she clung to her like a lifeline. Heejin approached next to rub her back.

"What exactly did Y/N say? Did she say it's over?" Gowon asked her softly.

"She said it's just a break, not a breakup. But if that's true why give the ring back? And why does it hurt so much?" Her crying has slightly subsided but she makes no moves to pull away from HeeChuu. In fact, having her two affectionate members' warmth around her was kind of soothing. Meanwhile, Sooyoung and Yeojin kept their distance out of fear they might trigger her even more.

"See? Y/N wouldn't have said that if she didn't mean it Hye. Maybe she felt like keeping it on would make her change her mind. I'm sure she just needs to clear her head."

Haseul pats her on the back a few times but the truth is they are all kind of worried. The two of you have never had so much as a mild argument let alone something like this. When she brought you home to meet them for the first time they started joking that Hyejoo would be the first to marry in the group and it would definitely be to you.

"Give her the rest of today and then give her a call in the morning." Jinsoul pet Hyejoo on the head, much to the younger girl's annoyance.

"But she said-" Jinsoul cuts her off.

"I know what she said Joojoo. But it sounds to me like she wants to know you trust her and it couldn't hurt to show her you'll be waiting for her. You are gonna wait right?" Jinsoul's eyebrow quirks up as she asks the question.

"As long as it takes."

"Then show her you don't want to just let her go."

"In fact, if I were you I'd just ask to meet up later this week to talk it over and hopefully cut this break as short as possible." Hyunjin suddenly speaks up.

"That's not a bad idea Hyunjin! Why don't you call her tomorrow afternoon Hye?" Heejin suggests.

"Fine, I'll try it."

That night Hyejoo could hardly sleep. You were supposed to stay over tonight. Be in her arms right this moment spreading your warmth around her and reminding her just how lucky she was to be the one you chose. Though you would definitely say it's the other way around.

By the time morning rolled around Hyejoo had maybe slept an hour. Oddly enough, at least to the others in the living room, she shuffled through the dorm with her pillow until she reached Jiwoo and Heejin's room. She knocks three times before she walks in after hearing Jiwoo's groggy voice. When she enters she sees exactly what she expected. Jiwoo and Heejin cuddled up in Jiwoo's bottom bunk. She could ask for Heejin's empty top bunk but that's not what she wanted right now. As the two girls look up at her in sleepy confusion, they don't make her say it. Heejin stands up while rubbing her eyes and gestures towards Jiwoo's open arms. With very little hesitation she situates her pillow on the bed and climbs into the older girl's embrace before Heejin follows right behind and wraps her arms around Hyejoo too.

There's no denying that this is unusual for all three of them but no one says anything because at least she's finding comfort in not one but two of her members. There was just something so comforting and warm about being in the arms of the two best friends. For one, she knows they care for her, they always look after her even when she isn't in the mood. Maybe it's the emotion from yesterday or maybe she just needs them to know but it's quiet when she mumbles it out and makes the two older girls' hearts melt.

"I love you unnies. Thank you."

They look at each other over Hyejoo's head and smile.

"We love you too Joojoo."

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

That afternoon, they sat with Hyejoo while she called you on the phone. As usual, when you weren't busy, you picked up her call on the second ring. It's silence on both ends of the line until she croaks out a vulnerable 'Hey' that you returned with the same energy. She's slightly comforted by Heejin's squeeze on her hand.

"So I know you said you wanted a break but will you meet up with me?" She hears you sigh and say her name but she interrupts with an almost panicked pleading in her voice.

"Y/n, please. I need to see you. I can't accept this break without talking through the problem first. I love you, let me fix it."

You couldn't see her but you could hear the shakiness in her voice. Though you've been together a while now, you don't think you've ever heard her this distraught. But you didn't even really have to think about it because the truth is, you want to see her too.

"Okay." It's practically a whisper but it's all she needs to squeeze Heejin back and perk up a bit, much to the older girl's delight.

"Meet me at our spot?" Her voice holds so much hope that you can't help giggling a little.

"Okay, Hyejoo I'll meet you there tomorrow morning."

"Y/n before you hang up...Can you say it back?" She sounds shy and if you could see how beet red she was from the looks on her member's faces you'd tease the heck out of her.

"I love you too Hyejoo."

With that you end the call, both of you excited to see the other. Vivi comes and pats her on the head with a warm sisterly smile before they are all talking about what she should wear for her meeting with you.

The next morning, she's there about a half-hour early, not wanting to be late and make you feel unimportant. When you arrive you look as beautiful as ever. It starts off awkward with the two of you just looking at each other. Then, you speak up.

"I uh I've missed you. Ya know, even though it's been 2 days." You chuckle, trying to keep it light.

"2 days too long. I missed you too." She deadpans. You're only caught off guard a little but recover quickly.

"I just worry that you don't trust me. You should know by now that I'd never even think about someone else like that."

"I do! It's just that some of the members saw you out with her a few times and it made me nervous. I thought she might be better than me and she is really pretty."

"Jagi I'm sorry but Galina could never. You're the only one and you always will be." You reach across the table and kiss her hand.

"Does this mean break over?" Hyejoo sniffles a little as she holds back tears.

"I don't know yet Hye. I'm still a little disappointed that you think so little of me." Hyejoo hangs her head so you can't see the tears threatening to fall.

"Don't be Y/N unnie!" Suddenly Yeojin is standing over the booth right behind you and you both hear Sooyoung grunt in frustration.

"We came to apologize. Yeojin heard some things and I saw you out. I should've just asked you about it one on one instead of going to Hyejoo. We're sorry Y/N." Sooyoung places a gentle hand on your shoulder and Yeojin nods.

"It was a misunderstanding, I didn't mean to cause problems for you and Hyejoo unnie. Please don't break up with her."

You're still a little shocked by their sudden appearance but you get it together and place your hand on Yeojin's head and give Sooyoung a warm smile.

"Don't apologize. I'm glad you both were looking out for her. That makes me incredibly happy. And I'm not breaking up with anyone. Everything is going to be okay."

Hyejoo looks up at you through her lashes.

"Really?" You almost coo at how adorable your girlfriend looks right now.

"Really." Seeing your smile again gives Hyejoo the warm and fuzzies.

"Then hurry up and put this back on before I get mad."

Before you can really react Hyejoo is clasping your promise ring back around your neck and watching it rest where it always should be. Right over your heart.

#Girl Group scnearios #Loona scenarios #Olivia Hye scenarios #Hyejoo scenarios #MooStarOnce

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ibijau · 3 years

Text

Futures Past pt12 / on AO3

Lan Xichen gives Nie Huaisang a music lesson

Everything was perfectly laid out on the low table when Lan Xichen finished his preparations. There was a guqin, of course. Not his personal one, since it would have been unwise to let a complete beginner touch an instrument that valuable, but a very good one nonetheless, borrowed among those Gusu Lan used to teach its newest disciples. Along with the guqin Lan Xichen had also taken a manual detailing the different hand positions, how to play different types of notes, and how to care for an instrument. In case Nie Huaisang took a liking to playing music, as Lan Xichen so hoped he would, permission had even been obtained on his behalf to keep both the instrument and the manual for the duration of his stay in the Cloud Recesses.

With how unpredictable Nie Huaisang was, there was a real chance he wouldn’t want to learn after all, or that he’d be as unfocused with this as he was with most things at this point of his life. But if Lan Xichen’s plan worked, if Nie Huaisang took to music…

It was unlikely at this point that Meng Yao would ever work for Nie Mingjue, or for Jin Guangshan. Just that morning, Lan Xichen had received a letter from Jiang Cheng who had wanted to give news about Yunmeng Jiang’s newest recruit, stating that Meng Yao seemed to get along with everyone so far. Only Madam Yu had reservations, having predictably guessed that Meng Yao was one of Jin Guangshan’s many bastards, but his good manners and respect for authority apparently pleased her, leading Jiang Cheng to believe that his mother would eventually warm up to this new disciple. Lan Xichen fervently hoped it would be so, and intended to answer that letter to thank Jiang Cheng for letting him know everything was going well, and for taking good care of Meng Yao.

If Meng Yao settled well in Yunmeng, then Jin Guangshan would find it much harder to conduct a plot against Nie Mingjue’s life. The man had treated his bastard son like dirt, never realising Meng Yao was the best thing that had ever happened to his sect, never seeing his true potential. Without his son, Jin Guangshan would hardly be a threat to anyone.

Still, there were hard times coming in the near future. Even without the Jin conspiring against him, Lan Xichen had suspected in that other future that Nie Mingjue’s temper and inner balance had been hit hard by the pressure of the Sunshot Campaign, and so Lan Xichen had now inherited his future self's fears on that subject. There was a good chance that the Jins had only precipitated a death that would have happened too soon even without their interventions.

But if there were someone in Nie Mingjue’s entourage who could play Cleansing for him, properly play it, someone as determined as Lan Xichen to keep Nie Mingjue in good health, but with the advantage of proximity and availability…

Cleansing was not an easy song. Even among Gusu Lan disciples, there were many who could not play it well, and they were not considered inferior cultivators for that failure. Teaching such a complex piece of music to a stranger, untrained in the ways of Gusu Lan, would be a gamble, one Lan Xichen had lost in another life.

He would not fail again to protect Nie Mingjue.

A knock on the door called Lan Xichen back to the present. He was not surprised to find Nie Huaisang there, whom he invited to come in. Nie Huaisang appeared to be in a good enough mood, and bore almost no more trace of his fight with Jin Zixun. It seemed to Lan Xichen that the other boy’s nose used to be a little straighter, but he couldn’t be quite sure. It was nothing horrible to look at, anyway. In fact, it might even have added something to Nie Huaisang’s face, giving his face a certain charm he wouldn’t otherwise have developed until well into his twenties, around the time his brother died.

Or perhaps it was just that Lan Xichen had never paid attention this early into their other lives. Not his worst mistake perhaps, but a mistake nonetheless because it had allowed Nie Huaisang to turn into a cold, lonely, and cruel man, one who haunted Lan Xichen’s nightmares in this life. But maybe this Nie Huaisang, with his slightly crooked nose proving a brave heart, with a loyal friend to count on, would turn out differently.

Lan Xichen must have stared too obviously, because as soon as he was done removing his shoes, Nie Huaisang covered his face with his hand.

“It’s really noticeable, isn’t it?” he whined. “Everyone says it’s just like before, but I know it’s not. I’m disfigured!”

“You’re certainly not disfigured,” Lan Xichen assured him. “I don’t think anyone who hasn’t met you before would even realise the shape isn’t natural.”

“I will have to hide my face behind a mask for the rest of my life,” Nie Huaisang insisted, going to sit without waiting to be invited to do so. He picked the side furthest from the guqin, which Lan Xichen thought didn’t bode well for his plan. “Good, honest folks shouldn’t have to ever see something so horrific. I will have to go into hiding! I will live and die alone, having never kissed anyone because I missed my chance when I was handsome.”

“You’re still quite handsome.”

“I’m not! Lan gongzi, there’s no need to lie, there’s no need to pity me. My life is ruined. With a face like that, what do I have left to attract others to me?”

Lan Xichen didn’t know whether to laugh or be annoyed. It wasn’t the first time he was comforted to realise that not all of Nie Huaisang’s behaviour in that future that wouldn’t be had been a comedy aimed at distracting Lan Xichen from his true intentions. It also wouldn’t be the last time he found such comfort in those antics either. Still, Nie Huaisang really was too dramatic, and Lan Xichen wasn’t sure how to deal with it.

“Nie gongzi has many other qualities that might attract a cultivation partner.”

“I do not. Really, I don’t!”

“Then let’s teach you some new skills,” Lan Xichen offered, calmly gesturing at the guqin. “The history of Gusu Lan is filled with musicians who wooed their true love through their talent, surely Nie gongzi might find success that way as well.”

Nie Huaisang pouted, and glared at the instrument as if it had insulted his parents.

"I really don't know if there's a point," he said. "I won't have any talent for it."

"I've heard that before," Lan Xichen said, opening the manual to its first page. "From people who in the end proved very good at playing, once they got over their worries and just started. Wangji was absolutely terrified he would disappoint us all, and look at him now."

In fact, Lan Wangji had cried his entire first lesson. And the second. The awkward timing of it, soon after their mother's death, hadn't helped. Lan Xichen and Lan Qiren had needed to reassure him they would still love him and keep him in the family even if he turned out to be the worst guqin player in the world before he would touch the instrument.

And then he'd enjoyed it so much that within a year he'd caught up to Lan Xichen's level, before promptly surpassing him.

Brat.

"Oh you can't compare me to Lan Wangji," Nie Huaisang complained, but he still leaned over the table to better look at the manual, peeking inside with some curiosity. "He and I are of a different sort. Everything your brother sets out to do, he succeeds at. I'm just a normal person."

Lan Xichen's hands clenched. He remembered too well the respective failures and successes of Lan Wangji and Nie Huaisang in that future he hoped they would avoid. Though thinking about it, Lan Wangji did usually get what he wanted. He'd even gotten Wei Wuxian, though it had taken him a while. All Nie Huaisang had gotten was bloody revenge, at the cost of everything else.

"Ah, sorry, I shouldn't speak like that of your brother," Nie Huaisang quickly mumbled. "I guess I spend too much time with… it's just that people in your sect tend to be unfairly compared to him, when he's a natural prodigy."

"I suppose I cannot blame Su She for finding it tiring," Lan Xichen generously conceded. "Though he has qualities of his own, and should take pride in those. Although your punishment is now over, I hope you won't mind if I keep stealing him from you here and there to help copy texts."

Nie Huaisang gasped in horror.

“Wait so it’s your fault if Su-xiong hasn’t been around lately?”

“I thought it would be better to keep him away from Jin gongzi,” Lan Xichen quickly explained. "And even though I told this to him on your first day of punishment, I still caught him trying to come and see you again the second day, so this seemed a good way to prevent problems."

“I’m really so relieved that’s the reason Su-xiong wasn’t around,” Nie Huaisang said, looking more relaxed indeed. “I was so scared he didn’t want to hang out anymore, or that he was upset about getting scolded because of me…”

“Nie gongzi should have a little more faith in others,” Lan Xichen gently scolded. “Especially in your friends.”

Nie Huaisang nodded, looking at Lan Xichen with some surprise.

“It sounds like you almost don’t hate him anymore.”

“I am currently reconsidering my opinion of him,” Lan Xichen admitted. “I thank you for encouraging me to do that. You were right in accusing me of unfairness.”

It had been with great reluctance that Lan Xichen had involved Su She in his project to prevent their sect's library. He'd only given him some texts of minor importance, which Su She could not put to use if he still broke out from the Lan sect in the future. And even those texts were only given to him for Nie Huaisang's sake, because Lan Xichen realised he wouldn't get Huaisang’s trust without making concessions toward Su She.

Much to his surprise, Su She had acquitted himself of that task with diligence and skill, producing an excellent copy of the text given to him, without a single wrong stroke on any character. Lan Xichen had praised him for his work and, since there had been two days left to Nie Huaisang's punishment, had given Su She another text to copy.

Since then, he had become curious about Su She, something he'd never done in his other life.

Lan Xichen had trusted his sect to be fair in that other future, both as a youth and as a sect leader. Because the rules ordered fair treatment and respect towards everyone, he had believed that things were so. If anyone was unhappy, they would have reported their trouble to an elder, or directly to him. Indeed such things had been brought to his attention sometimes once he was sect leader, which he had investigated and set right again, proving to himself that the system worked. And if the system worked, then someone like Su She who had betrayed his sect in such a despicable manner could only be a villain.

Nie Huaisang’s surprising attachment to Su She had forced Lan Xichen to pay more attention to him. He hadn’t liked what he’d seen so far, but not for the reason he would have expected.

Su She was not only skilled in cultivation, something Lan Xichen had always reluctantly been forced to admit in that other future, but he was also dedicated to playing by the rules of Gusu Lan, bending to every rule even though the sect’s way of living clearly went against his entire personality, obeying his elders, working hard to please his teachers. And yet in spite of those efforts, Lan Xichen heard from some teachers that Su She was considered lazy and difficult. If pressed, those same teachers might say that Su She’s background meant he didn’t value hard work as a peasant’s son might have, that he lacked the education in classics he might have acquired in a family of scholars, and that he just didn’t have any refinement of manner as befitted a cultivator.

Su She didn’t belong, the same way Meng Yao didn’t belong.

Lan Xichen had a feeling that in that other future, his adult self had often been puzzled by the friendship between Jin Guangyao and Su She. Even when they had been revealed to be partners in crime rather than merely friends, Lan Xichen still hadn’t understood what might have brought those two to become so close.

It was starting to make sense now.

And this meant, also, that Gusu Lan had betrayed Su She no less than he had betrayed them.

“I’m glad as well, if you’re changing your opinion about him,” Nie Huaisang said with a happy smile. “He’s really a good person. Maybe he doesn’t always have the best of tempers, but neither does da-ge and you like him, so…”

Lan Xichen, however willing he was to give Su She a chance to prove himself in this new life, still shivered at hearing him mentioned at the same time as Nie Mingjue, whose death he’d probably helped in the other future. Jin Guangyao was very skilled, but it was doubtful he’d have mixed Cleansing and that other piece of music without a little help.

But that wouldn’t happen again. Meng Yao wouldn’t grow to hate Nie Mingjue, nor would he go to serve his despicable father. Not this time.

“Now that you’ve been reassured about your friend’s loyalty, how about starting the lesson?” Lan Xichen offered. “I do fear you’ll have to come sit on my side.”

Nie Huaisang grimaced and threw the guqin a worried look, but made no movement to get up.

“I really don’t know if it’s a good idea,” he said. “I’m such a bad student… I always get distracted and bored...”

“I think only because people usually try to teach you things you don’t enjoy,” Lan Xichen replied. “Come sit here, and let’s start. If really you don’t like it, then I’ll let you go and we’ll just forget about this, it’s fine. But you can’t give up without at least trying once.”

“You sound like my brother,” Nie Huaisang complained, but at last he stood up and walked around the table to sit closer to Lan Xichen. “Always saying I won’t know unless I try… and then when I try things and I don’t like them, he gets all upset and we fight. But… fine. Fine, let’s try this, I’m here already, anyway.”

With Nie Huaisang in such a mood, Lan Xichen thought that the whole endeavour was doomed to fail before it had even started. His uncle often said that it was near impossible to teach someone who didn’t want to be taught, and seeing Nie Huaisang like this made Lan Xichen understand what he meant.

Still Lan Xichen started his lesson as if nothing was wrong, explaining the very basics of how to play a guqin, demonstrating hand positions, pausing sometimes to play a few notes so Nie Huaisang would better understand what he was explaining. At first Nie Huaisang’s posture was closed off, his expression as reluctant as if he were listening to one of Lan Qiren’s lectures.

But as the lesson progressed Nie Huaisang's attitude changed. He looked more focused, and started imitating the different hand positions Lan Xichen was explaining even before being invited to do so. When invited to try playing a note or two, Nie Huaisang seemed to immediately know when the note was wrong, and dutifully listened as Lan Xichen corrected the movement of his fingers or their positions on the string, his expression one of intense concentration. He would then replay the note until he got it right, showing a determination that Lan Xichen wouldn’t have thought him capable of, not at this point of his life anyway.

Maybe it wasn’t just that the death of Nie Mingjue had changed him, or the lonely decade that followed, Lan Xichen realised. Maybe Nie Huaisang had always been that stubborn, but only about things that mattered to him… and because the things that mattered to him didn’t matter much to Lan Xichen, nor indeed to most people who met Nie Huaisang, they assumed he was easy going and unwilling to make effort,even perhaps a little stupid, just as he often claimed to be.

After a while though, Nie Huaisang appeared to hit his limit. It had taken longer than Lan Xichen would have expected, and indeed the lesson had gone on longer than he’d initially planned, but he’d allowed it to drag on, fascinated by Nie Huaisang’s unexpected determination. It was only when Nie Huaisang started failing to play a new note several times in a row that Lan Xichen finally suggested they stop for the day.

“I told you I wouldn’t be much good,” Nie Huaisang sighed, flexing his fingers to stretch their muscles. “I just couldn’t do it, in the end.”

“On the contrary, you’ve proven yourself an excellent student,” Lan Xichen replied. “Better than many I’ve had to help, and more serious as well.”

“But…”

“It’s only your very first lesson, Huaisang,” Lan Xichen said, “and we have gone much further with it than I expected. You have real skill for it, I believe, and far more importantly it seems to me that you have a taste for it. Am I wrong?”

Still flexing and rubbing his hand, Nie Huaisang nodded quickly, a shy smile on his face.

“It was… it was really fun,” he admitted. “Lan gongzi is a good teacher.”

“Nie gongzi is a good student, when the subject pleases him. Do you wish to continue learning?”

Lan Xichen would have expected Nie Huaisang to take a moment to consider the question. Even if he liked music, it seemed to him that Nie Huaisang had little affection for Lan Xichen, something he might have deserved.

It was a pleasant surprised when Nie Huaisang immediately nodded.

“I think I do want to learn, if Lan gongzi can spare the time.”

It would be complicated to organise. Just this one lesson had taken a lot of rescheduling. Lan Xichen had a lot to do, between helping teach the juniors, his own lessons, his uncle trying to involve him in the ruling of the sect, and of course the copying of books from their library. But becoming closer to Nie Huaisang was essential to ensure this new life would turn out better than the old one.

It might also be pleasant, Lan Xichen realised with some surprise, thinking how quickly time had passed while teaching Nie Huaisang, and how pleasant it had been to have such an eager student. If Nie Huaisang's interest in music remained, if he learned enough to have conversations on the subject, if his understanding increased enough to have debates even...

Lan Xichen's plan upon gaining knowledge of the future had been to gain Nie Huaisang’s trust rather than his friendship, seeing no value in the latter. A mistake on his part, he was starting to realise, and he hoped now to get both trust and friendship as a result of his efforts.

#xisang #nie huaisang #lan xichen #mo dao zu shi #mdzs #jau writes #double time travel #and with this I've exhausted my tiny buffer already lol #but hey look they're learning to get along!

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julemmaes · 4 years

Text

Love her like she should be loved

Cassian and Nesta Archeron modern au

So, this morning I was scrolling through Tumblr and I saw this post who said “i just want a fic with cassian defending nesta!!! idc what the context even is i just want to see him being offended on nesta's behalf and being ready to throw hands” and I obviously couldn’t resist. The post is this one.

Nesta is not really present in this specific part, if you want more of this au you can always send an ask (and a prompt if you want) and yall know I would continue this without hesitation. Hope you enjoy, as always:)

Word count: 3,266

His day was not going well.

He was supposed to give an analysis exam that morning, but the professor had not warned any of the students that he wouldn’t show up because of something personal. After an hour in which they waited, one of the secretaries of the university came to inform them that no test would be held, Cassian just wished he was dead. In addition, he had spent the entire afternoon serving at Elain's small café and now he was exhausted. Especially since he had to argue with an old lady who insisted on ordering something that wasn't on the menu.

Sometimes the girl would ask him to help her, when it happened that the staff was not available and the customers were much more numerous than one would expect on a Wednesday in the middle of February. Cassian didn't mind, he would have nothing better to do anyway. With his part-time job at a bookstore and his classes at the university, he found it hard to have days to himself and never made plans unless he was sure he could get them done. Then, however, a little extra money would help.

He had just arrived at the door of the apartment he shared with his two brothers when he heard Morrigan's shrill voice, followed by Feyre's loud laugh.

Shit, he had completely forgotten that they were all going to be home tonight.

Puffing, he opened the door and as soon as he walked in he was welcomed by the exalted cheers coming from the living room. He closed his eyes, grimacing. They were all already drunk. He heard Rhysand calling out to him and, taking off his shoes very slowly, went to the others.

"There he is! Fucking finally," shouted Mor, lying halfway down on Amren's legs, "You took your time. Ellie said you left the shop more than two hours ago, where have you been?" she asked with shiny eyes because of the alcohol. Cassian took a look at the others and saw that the only one who seemed to be still sober was Azriel, but looking at the glass in his brother's hand he knew he wouldn't be like that much longer.

He moved his gaze back to the blonde and shook his head, "Taking a walk." he simply replied, then ran a hand over his face, "Well guys, I'm going to sleep. I would kindly ask you to keep it down, but I know it's impossible, so if you could not drag it out too long, you would do me a favor."

Rhysand burst out laughing and Cassian turned to him, noticing only now that Feyre was curled up on his lap, "I don't think so. You haven't partied with us in almost a week." Azriel made a sound of approval, whispering a faint true, "We miss you," he added, sulking.

Cassian snorted again, they were right. Actually, he hadn't been on the couch to have a drink with his friends for over a week, but there was a very specific reason. And the reason was called Nesta.

It had been five very long months and keeping their relationship hidden was starting to get tough.

"Listen," began Cassian, trying to find a way to escape it one more time and go to sleep. "I'm very happy that you only have three classes a day and then you can come here and get shit-faced, but-"

"Oh come on, my sister's coming later too." Feyre interrupted him, slurring her words. "We could play Risiko, with your rules. Would you stay in that case?"

He knew very well that it wasn't Nesta. No, it couldn't have been her. They never invited her. And he wasn't in the mood to play Drunken Risiko at all.

Cassian glanced at her involuntary, clenching his jaw and starting to walk backwards towards his room. "I repeat, I'm very pleased that you still have so much time to lose in these things, but tomorrow I have to work all day and I'm exhausted."

Armen scoffed, "God it's like hearing her sister," said the friend looking him straight in the eye, pointing with her chin to Feyre, who had tightened even more on her boyfriend. Cassian stopped at the living room door, looking at Amren in turn. Feyre nodded, with her eyes closed, "It's true, she’s been a bit of a bitch lately.”

As Feyre spoke, Cassian saw the image of Nesta smiling at him as she sat on her kitchen island, telling him he was an idiot.

Rhysand chuckled and leaned his head against the back of the armchair, "Take the 'a bit' away."

"The other day I met her at the mall and, like any sane person would do, I went to say goodbye to her and she just looked at me and left," Morrigan said, settling better on the couch, in what everyone in their group called the gossip pose. Legs bent under her body and a glass of red wine in her left hand.

Cassian wanted to leave, but couldn’t move. That was the reason why he hadn't been able to go out with his friends in the last few days: whatever they did, in one way or another, they were able to drag Nesta into the conversation and talk shit about her.

"I just can't figure out what's wrong with her," said Rhys, looking annoyed by what Morrigan had just told them. Cassian remained silent. He didn't want to argue with his family and it would have been avoided if he had simply left.

Feyre stood up to pour herself another glass of wine. She sat down next to Amren, resting her head on her friend's shoulder, "I really wish I knew that."

It would be enough if you talked to her from time to time, thought Cassian, crossing his arms on his chest. He caught Azriel's gaze for a second and saw that his older brother was watching him attentively. Too attentively for his liking. He raised an eyebrow, as if asking what he wanted. Azriel was about to open his mouth when the doorbell rang. Everyone's attention sprang towards the door.

"It must be Elain," said Azriel as he stood up, "hopefully she's not as dead as someone else is tonight," he said, making a snide remark to Cassian, who took advantage of the moment to turn on his heels and go to sleep. Elain wouldn’t have been offended if he didn't say hi.

As soon as he closed the door to his room he took a deep breath.

He undressed and lay down on the bed without worrying too much about getting under the covers. He let his hair loose, letting it fall on the pillow and then he starred at the ceiling. He picked up the phone shortly after and opened the gallery, starting to scroll through the photos in the folder called books' stuff.

Rhysand had a nasty habit of taking his cell phone and looking through his stuff and this was the only way to make sure he didn't see the hundreds of photos he had of Nesta and himself.

He thought about the last half year they had spent together.

He thought about how almost five months earlier Nesta had felt sick while she was alone with him and how she thanked him when he was able to calm her down and how she ran away soon after.

He thought of himself, losing whole nights of sleep thinking about what to do, whether to try to talk to her about what had happened or whether to let it go.

He thought of when Nesta had insulted him when he had given her the number of his therapist and when after talking to her for hours about his personal problems Nesta had looked at him with a completely different expression on her face.

He thought about when she had refused his therapist's number again, but promised him she would seek help.

After a month, she asked him if he wanted to go out with her. On a date. Cassian was a bit shocked at the invitation, convinced that Nesta was not looking for anything serious at the time. He had accepted regardless and this had led to several other dates, before they made it official about two months later.

Neither her sisters nor his brothers suspected a thing and both were inclined to keep it a secret. Nesta had had no problem doing so, as she hardly ever went out with the group, there was no risk of it slipping out of her mouth. For Cassian it was something else entirely. Especially in the last period.

Nesta was going through a very difficult period and Cassian was always nervous, on edge, ready to do whatever Nesta needed. While their families did nothing but insult his girlfriend.

There had been days when Cassian, worried that Nesta hadn't answered him for hours after calling him desperate because of something that had happened at work, nearly broke down. He had run to her apartment that time and Nesta had not opened the door. He had almost called Feyre to ask her for the spare key, but he managed to convince Nesta to let him in.

They had spent two days in her bed together, Cassian making up a stupid excuse with his brothers for not being home.

His flood of thoughts was interrupted when he heard the others laughing.

He put the phone on the bedside table again and lay down on his side, trying not to listen to what they were saying in the other room.

It proved impossible.

"Have you heard from Nesta lately?" Feyre asked. Cassian brought the pillow over his ears, but it was of no use. "No, not really. She doesn't even answer the phone," answered Elain.

"Yeah no, because I ran into her the other day while I was shopping and she didn't even say hello." Mor repeated in that shocked tone.

Cassian loved everyone in that house so terribly, but if they had continued like that, he would have had to go out.

"I really don't understand how she can behave like that." a little pause, "I've tried so many times to get her to do something with me, but every time she insults me and tells me to mind my own business." Cassian knew about Feyre's various attempts to help her sister. Nesta had told him about all the times she had tried to force her to dress up in a certain way so she could go dancing and meet some guy. Of all the times Feyre had told her that she needed a holiday, that they could go together to places like Adriata or on the south coast, where the beaches were populated with life and people their age.

"God that girl really gets on my nerves," said Rhysand. Cassian wanted to grab him by the shoulders and shake him.

"I feel sorry to even talk about her like this, but there are times when I can't understand why she hates me so much." Feyre spoke again. Cassian scoffed, knowing full well that she didn't feel sorry at all. Elain replied, "Oh no, Fey-Fey, don't feel bad. She's the one who gets away from everyone."

"But does she realize that if she continues like this she will die alone and sad?" this comment broke something inside Cassian's chest. Even more so because it was Mor who had said those words.

"Maybe she deserves it. With how she treats you, she doesn't even deserve you looking after her in this way".

"Maybe you are right. Every time I try something new, she pushes me further and further. It makes me feel like a bad sister," continued Feyre, in a lower voice than before.

"See? It also makes you feel bad. She's just a selfish bitch who seeks attention," concluded Rhysand.

Cassian couldn't take it anymore and got out of bed, slamming the door against the wall when he opened it.

"Cassian-"

When he entered the living room Mor looked at him with wide open eyes. She had got up and was coming towards him when he raised his hand to stop her.

"Shut up!" he shouted as he looked at Rhysand immediately afterwards. "Repeat what you said." he challenged him, keeping his distance. They were all looking at him in shock. His breathing ragged.

"Cass...what's going on?" asked Elain, getting up and standing next to Mor.

"I said shut up," he said, keeping his gaze fixed on his younger brother. "Again, repeat what you just said."

Rhysand looked at him with blurred eyes. Perfect, he was completely drunk, "Calm down man, we were just talking about Nesta." He looked at him frowning, "What's wrong with you?" said Rhys getting up and stiffening, staggering slightly. Azriel stood up in turn, shifting his gaze quickly from one brother to another.

Cassian contracted his jaw, clenching his fists.

"Why are you so upset?" asked Feyre, always sitting, probably too drunk to stand. Cassian looked at her and took a deep breath. Feyre looked at Amren as soon as she burst out laughing.

Everyone’s focus shifted to the girl, who looked like she was about to be sick from all the laughter. Mor kept looking at him though and he just wanted to tell her to stop staring.

"Why are you laughing?" Rhysand asked, even more confused than before.

Amren wiped her tears away, "It’s so fucking obvious that Cassian and Nesta are dating at this point that I really don't know how you haven't figured it out yet."

Cassian looked at her with his mouth wide open, "How...?"

"You have no idea how much of an open book you are for those who know where to look." replied Amren without even glancing at him.

"I was waiting for you to tell me about it." Azriel confessed in a low voice. Cassian turned toward him, frowning. Azriel raised his hands as a sign of surrender, shaking his head, "You have hardly been home for a long time, and perhaps I should have asked earlier, but I had my suspicions for a while." he smiled at him, "Well, congratulations." Azriel said, tilting his head and drinking a sip of beer. A toast. Cassian felt a weight lifting from his shoulders.

A weight that fell on him once again when he heard a choked laugh on the other side of the sofa.

"Congratulations? Azriel, are you serious?" Rhysand asked incredulously, passing his hand over his face.

Feyre and Elain were looking at each other in dismay.

"How can you think of getting with-" Mor was staring at him with her mouth open. "-shit, with Nesta? How can you be with such a person?"

Cassian saw red with anger. "Such a person you say?"

Rhysand approached him, placing a hand on his shoulder, "Yes Cass, such a person. You know that she has no emotions other than disgust and hatred." Cassian moved to avoid his brother's touch. Disgust. Hate.

He saw Nesta smiling at him with one of his T-shirts on, lying in her bed, whispering I love you.

Cassian shook his head. "I really can't tell if you're joking or being serious when you talk about her." he whispered not being able to believe what they were saying. "Nesta, your sister," he said, addressing directly the two Archeron present, "is not doing good."

Elain had the decency to seem surprised. Feyre looked at him with shining eyes, whether it was alcohol or emotion he couldn't tell.

"Nesta is sick and the only thing you can do," he pointed out, "is to sit and drink and insult her until you feel satisfied with yourself.

"We've tried so many times to intervene," Feyre defended herself, in a small voice. She put her hands between her thighs. Cassian laughed and threw his hands to the sky.

"Intervene? Intervene, really?" he asked her sarcastically. He laughed again, no trace of amusement in that sound. "You mean when you went to her house, a few weeks ago, and yelled at her because she didn't want to go out with you and she answered you badly when you told her she had to stop being depressed?" now he was shouting. "Or when you told her that she sucked as being a sister and that she should be a better example for you and Elain?" Feyre held her breath, shutting her eyes.

Cassian turned to the other girl, "And you?" he asked her, a false smile on his lips, "Jesus, Ellie, I see you treating the rest of the world with gloved hands every day. You talk to people as if they were wounded animals and it never occurred to you that your sister might be the only one who really needs it?"

He no longer knew who he was talking to as he raised his voice further and started walking around the room. "If instead of telling her what to do, every day. You always say, say, say, try for once and ask for fuck’s sake. If for once you asked instead of doing whatever the hell you want. It would be enough if you were more interested in what she wants to do and less in what you would like her to do" his head was pounding.

He turned to Rhysand at the end. He gritted his teeth, a grimace of repulsion on his face. "You disgust me the most." his voice broke.

"Cassian-" Azriel got in the way.

"No, Az." as he looked at his older brother he thought that he too was no less. He had never said anything about Nesta, never, but he had never even stopped the others or tried to justify the behavior of the older Archeron.

"You were sick once." Cassian said, as he approached Rhysand. He looked at him raising his chin, breathing heavily. "You were sick and I helped you. You treated me the way Nesta treats her sisters. You treated me worse," he whispered, referring to when he and Rhysand ended up beating each other, because Cassian had pushed him over the edge, "You know what she's going through better than anyone probably does, and yet you're the first one to throw shit at her." Rhys looked towards Feyre. "You don't even know her. And yet you’re ready to act like your dad.” Rhys’ eyes shot to him, any trace of color draining from his face. Cassian knew he’d just hit the right spot.

"And you Mor." He turned to his oldest friend. "You're better than that. You all are." he said to no one in particular.

He closed his eyes and ran both hands over his face.

"None of you ever tried to ask her how she was. None of you have ever made an effort. A real effort." he whispered, with anger coursing through his veins. "I get that Nesta can be difficult at times, but we are the only thing she has. The only thing she should have at least."

with that, he left, going to his room. He got dressed quickly, put on his shoes and grabbed the car keys. Before he left he turned towards the quiet living room, where everyone was staring at one another.

"Perhaps it would be better for us all if we searched our own hearts," he said, opening the door, "If something happens, send me a message. At least now you know where to find me."

Rhysand opened his mouth to talk, probably to apologize, but Cassian had already closed the door behind him.

acotar taglist (if you want to be removed or added, let me know with a dm or an ask) (I also tagged the people who seemed interested in the comments of the original post, I’ll just tag you for this part)

@tottenhamboys20 @sjm-things @kris10maas @awesomelena555 @sannelovesreading @queenamydien29 @ireallyshouldsleeprn @nxssian @lovelynesta @maastrash

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daydreamingintheimpalax · 4 years

Text

Little Beginnings

Dean X Reader

Warnings: Mentions of cheating, mentions of pregnancy, possible swearing.

A/N: Just a little something i wanted to write. Dean’s 40, Reader is 28.

************************

You were fucking late, again. Dean was an amazing boss, and an even better friend, but just because he was a super sweet guy, didn’t mean he was going to keep letting you get away with being late. To be fair, you were about 6 months pregnant, and it did cause for a lot of doctors appointments, which Dean had driven you to a few times when Andy was too busy at work.

Your fiance Andy and you had been engaged for the last year, deciding you were going to wait a while before getting married, Andy was up for a possible big promotion at his design company and he wanted to focus on his work, which you more than understood, so the couple times he’d failed to be there for some of the milestone appointments, you relied on the bus, making you late, opting Dean to offer to drive you so the other staff members would stop harrassing him about special treatment. I mean, you were pregnant, and it wasn’t your fault the appointments ran longer than usual and you’d missed the bus one too many times.

The bell above the auto shop jingled, signaling that you were finally at work, you were out of breath, stopping slightly to hold your belly. “I’m here, i’m here, i’m so sorry, it was suppsed to be a simple scan and then she thought she saw something and wanted to do a more extensive exam, and i promise next time i’ll just have her reschedule for my day off.” You gasped, out of breath from running all the way from the bus stop, all the extra weight making it harder to move fast.

Dean waved his hand dismissively, you could see he was sort of lost, trying to work the register, Dean wasn’t good at the front end work, he was however the best mechanic in town, so he handled the cars and you handled the cash.

“Hey, don’t worry about it, not your fault, if the doctor said you needed it then she must have been worried,” he finally stops and looks at you concerned, “Everything okay? are you and the baby okay?” He asks and you smile widely.

“SHE and i are just fine, she was just being squirmy.” You jump a little in place, finally having found out the sex. Dean’s eyes widen and a pure look of excitement and joy crosses his face.

“No way? It’s a girl?” He asks and you nod, squealing. Dean lets out a laugh and makes his way over, pulling you into him, not caring that he’s in his greasy work coveralls. “Congratulations, sweetheart!!” He speaks, placing a small kiss to your head.

He smells like car oil, a little musk from all the sweating from working in the extreme heat and the lingering scent of his aftershave and bodywash. It comforts you, you take a breath, taking in the smell, the familiar smell, Dean has always welcomed you with open arms, making you feel perfectly at home in his auto shop for the last 4 years. He had made you feel loved and valued when your own parents basically banished you for being pregnant before being married. If they had their way, you would’ve been married years ago, they had their opinions and beleifs and you didn’t follow them, and because of it, they hadn’t spoken to you since you told them the news.

“Have you told Andy yet?” He smiles, you shake your head, moving around him to show him how to open the cash. “Not yet, we’re suppsed to have dinner tonight, i was going to tell him then.” You smile, hardly containing your excitement. You open the register and Dean let’s out a small ‘yes’ before squishing your face, “What am i going to do without you while you’re gone.” He speaks and pinches your nose. You shove his hand away.

“You’ll be fine, plus if you need anything, call. No questions asked, just call.” You smile widely and he returns it.

The rest of your shift goes smoothly, you count the register at the end of the day, Dean cleans up and changes, grease still on him but for the most part he got it off, he waits for you and like a true well raised gentleman, he drives you home, not wanting you to walk or take the bus alone at night.

************************************

When you walk into your apartment, you don’t see Andy on the couch watching tv like he usually is, you assume maybe hes making dinner, since you are home much earlier than expected, the shop hadn’t been overly busy and Dean was so good with cars he had finished all his jobs for the day early.

You hang your coat up and walk into the kitchen, expecting to see Andy cooking, instead, your greeted with silence, with two almost empty plates on your kitchen table, but the part that makes your heart sink into your stomach is the two wine glasses, one, which has a very clear lipstick mark on it.

A bang comes from your bedroom upstairs, the fire in you already ready to explode. You make your way upstairs, and before you realize it, your swinging your bedroom door open, a woman is sprawled on your bed, her ass in the air as your fiance drills her from behind, his one hand gripping her hair as the other rests on the headboard, she lets out a scream and he swears under his breath. Finally able to speak you clear your throat.

“Are you fucking kidding me!” You yell and Andy freezes, the girl letting out a whine before she finally peels her head from your pillow. Your fucking god damn pillow.

“Oh my god, who is that.” She squeals before yaking herself off the bed and away from him, holding your blanket to cover herself up.

“I’m his fiance, his pregnant fiance. Who the fuck are you!” you scream, livid.

Andy is up, blanket around his waist before he’s walking towards you. “Baby, this isn’t- i uh- i can explain.” He stumbles over his words, not knowing what to do or say.

You glare at him, “How long?” you ask, he shakes his head confused. “How long have you been fucking her? and don’t you dare fucking lie to me right now Andy!” You scream and he flinches, not used to your high vocals right now.

He sighs, “Since you told me about the pregnancy.” He admits, running a hand through his hair, “Listen, i need to explain, i just, i needed a break, everything with the pregnancy has been too much to handle and im stressed with work, now the pregnany, i just, i needed to get away from it all.” He speaks and soon enough you’re in his face.

“What are you sick of Andy? The fact you have barely been home since i told you about it? or the fact you haven’t been to one single appointment? Not the first time we got to see it, not the first time we got to hear the heartbeat, and now, you couldn’t be bothered to come find out the sex with me, it’s a girl, FYI, you havent been around for any of it. So what exactly are you sick of? you’re a worthless piece of shit, and i never want to see you again. Go fuck yourself.” You finish it off with a slap to his face, the contact is so loud, even the girl behind him flinches.

She gives you a small smile when you make eye contact. “I’m really sorry, i didn’t know, he never mentioned you or the baby, if i had known...” she pauses, obvious guilt in her face. You shrug, “I know, do yourself a favour, find a better man to give yourself to, trust me, this one isn’t worth it.” You tell her, she swallows before grabbing her clothes and leaving the room, but not before glaring at Andy herself, “Don’t ever call me again.” She spits at him and he flinches, he tries to get close to you and you back away, skaking your head.

“No, i’m leaving.” You spit out and he frowns, a little angry. “Where are you going? You’re pregnant and you know damn well your parents won’t take you back in.” He says it with a tone, almost like he’s proud to know that’s true, without them, you have nowhere to go.

“I’ll figure something out, i haven’t needed you for the last 6 months, and obviously i still don’t.” You state, grabbing the prepared hospital bag you had done two months ago, for the most part it had enough stuff in it to get you by for a few days and you’d eventually come back for the rest of your stuff, preferably when Andy was away at work.

You storm out, getting into the car you had spent years saving to get, you had bought it on your own, but had decided since Andy made more money that he needed it more. As you drive away, you can hear Andy shouting, you roll down your window and catch the ending.

“You stupid bitch, how the fuck am i supposed to get to work!” He shouts, you laugh, “Take a bus, asshole. I paid for the car!” Before you’re peeling out of what is no longer your drive way.

****************************

Dean’s surprised when he hears his phone ring, he isn’t expecting any calls, usually Sam is the only one who calls him, to be honest, he’s pretty much lonely most of the time.

Sammy tries to call each week, but he’s usually busy with work or the kids so usually Dean’s alone. Some days he wishes he had done what Sam did, settle down with a nice girl, have some babies, but most of the women he had dated just wanted the idea of a hardworking attractive man by their side, when it came down to it, they backed off when they realized he’d wanted more. it worked out for the best, none of the women in his life had ever truly been longterm material, sometimes he regretted having too much fun and not enough substance, airheads only stayed interesting for so long.

It’s 8:30 pm and he had just finished making one of his best pasta dishes if he does say so himself. He was about to dig in and turn on some criminal minds when his phone had gone off, he stares at it, not recognizing the number.

“Hello?” He speaks and a feminine voice is heard, “Hi, may i please speak to Mr. Dean Winchester?” She asks and he clears his throat, “Uh, speaking, who is this?” he raises a brow and his heart sinks slightly when he hears her speak.

“Hi Mr. Winchester, my name is Sadie and i am calling on behalf of Miss Y/N Y/L/N, i’m a nurse at memorial hospital and Y/N was in a small car accident earlier and she had you listed as her second emergency contact, she refused to allow me to call her first contact.” She speaks, Dean’s barely listened, he interupts her, completely worried why he’s being called.

“What? Where is Y/n, is she okay? is the baby okay? what happened?” He talks a mile a minute before the nurse calms him down.

“She and the baby are fine, she is however a little shaken up, can we ask that you come down here, maybe take her home, she refuses anymore help insisting she’s fine and she wont let us call her fiance.” The nurse sighs and Dean agrees.

He reaches the hospital in 15 minutes, rushing through the place to find y/n. Eventually he finds the nurse that called and he’s led straight to the room you’re in, you’re sitting in the bed, hands on your belly, moving them around and smiling when you feel your baby move. He let’s out a relieved sigh to see you’re okay, and thankfully, still pregnant.

“Y/N?” He speaks and your head shoots up, you let out a soft smile, he can tell you’ve been crying. “Hey Dee, glad to see you own something other than flannel and ripped jeans.” You smirk, he looks down at his sweat pants and hoddie, smiling to himself before letting out a small chuckle.

“Theyre my comfy clothes, shut up.” He teases and you giggle. He moves closer, sitting on your bed near you. “You wanna tell me what the hell happened, sweetheart?” He asks and you look down, focused on your hands on your belly, biting the inside of your cheek.

“After you drove me home, i walked in on Andy fucking some girl in doggy on our bed, i was furious and yelled at him before slapping him and leaving, i grabbed my to go bag and didn’t even care if it wasn’t enough and left, i took my car and just drove off, i didn’t really know where to go and i started crying because Andy was right about my parents probably not wanting me back, so i cried harder and i guess i couldn’t see clearly and went off road. It wasn’t bad, but i sorta put some dents and bumps in it, a jogger found me and insisted i go to a hospital and called the abulance.” You shrugged.

Dean scoffed, “Are you fucking serious, the nerve of that jackass, i swear if i ever see him i’m gonn-” You cut him off. “Dee, it’s not worth it, i’m mostly just mad at myself for not seeing it, the missed appointments, the constant late nights, he didn’t want this, the marriage, the pregnancy, he wasn’t ready, i should’ve figured it out, i should’ve seen it.” You shrug softly, wiping a tear from your eye.

Dean sighs, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Hey, listen to me, this isn’t your fault, you didn’t force him to have sex with you, and you sure as hell didn’t get pregnant on purpose, if he didn’t want a kid, he should’ve kept his shit wrapped. He’s the asshole in this situation, not you. As for where to go, you should’ve called me, you know i always have your back. You’re staying with me,” you’re about to interupt him but he shuts you up with a hand, “No, no talking, and i’m not leaving you alone, you’re moving in with me and that’s final.” You huff and pout, making him roll his eyes.

“Don’t try to cute your way outta this, and don’t be stubborn, i got plenty of space not being used, i could use the company.” You huff, “Fine, but at least let me pitch in for rent..” He cuts you off, “No. I’m not charging you, save your money for the baby stuff your gonna need, just help me keep my fridge stocked and we’ll call it even, i’m a bad grocery shopper.” He smiles, you roll your eyes but agree.

*****************************

“Hey dee?” You speak as he drives you back to his place, “Yeah?” he hums as he fiddles with the radio before landing on a station. You look over at him and smile.

“Why can’t all the guys in the world be more like you?” You smile softly and he chuckles, “That wouldn’t make me one of a kind now would it darlin,” he shoots you a wink and you laugh, shaking your head.

“No seriously though, thank you, for everything, the job, the constant rides, always making sure im eating, getting my vitamins and water intake, always keeping your mini fridge in your office stocked with snacks, you’re literally amazing, and i don’t think i could’ve handled this whole siatuation well if it wasn’t for you. At this point, you’ve done more for me and this little girl than her father has, i need you to know how much i appreciate you.” You reach over, grabbing his hand and he looks over and smiles.

“I know y/n, don’t you worry about it. Besides, one of you already has me wrapped around her finger, what’s one more? Hmm?” He smirks, laughing at your shocked face. You shake your head at him, smiling as parks the car in his driveway. You both get out of the car, but before Dean can walk to his door, you pull him back towards you.

He’s surprised at first then melts into the kiss, wrapping his arms around your slightly big middle, he chuckles and pulls away when he feels movement in your belly. You laugh softly, “I think she likes you, she’s all excited.” You smile, letting him place his hand on your belly, feeling all the movement going on.

He smiles gently, “yeah well, i like her too, i really REALLY like her mom though.” He states, leaning in to kiss you yet again.

********************************

Tags: @akshi8278

#Dean winchester #Dean x Reader #Dean winchester x Reader

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mcchipisfried · 4 years

Text

DEArtfest Day 14 - Enemies to Lovers

Calling out @octopunkmedia for today’s prompt!!

I’m kidding I did write something but this was my basic reaction to reading the prompt. Also I will be making a drawing AND writing something for two other prompts so look forward to that...

(one might be an actual piece and not just a comic...)

Gavin sat at his desk, his coffee cup empty because he refused to be in the same room with an android for longer than two seconds. His day started as well as any other day did for Gavin Reed, with him waking up feeling like shit, drinking one cup of coffee at home, then another once he came into work, barely being able to stay awake while also having his new android partner quietly looming over his shoulder, tablet in hand, every so often glancing at him with what only could be described as a very displeased frown.

“Hey fuck face, could you fuck off to the next recycling bin and do your job there instead of leaning over me like some kind of fucking bodyguard?” Gavin said, turning to look at the android behind him, and watched as his frown seemed to deepen, probably in more displeasure towards Gavin’s words.

“Detective Reed, I believe for our partnership to function properly we must become at least comfortable with each other being in the same room. As for my presence, I was simply reviewing my scanners and noticed that your vitals are, simply put, terrible and it is my belief that you should go home before-”

“Oh so the fucking android is worried about my health now? Pretty ironic considering what you were made for. Why don’t you just fuck off and mind your own fucking business. Go one, wait somewhere else like the good little android you are and wait for someone to give you your next orders.” Gavin said, interrupting the android. Turning back around and facing his computer, ignoring the dirty looks he got from Tina and Chris as the RK900 promptly turned to walk towards the break room.

The RK900 sat at one of the tables in the break room and continued to look through the previous scans he had done of the Detective. They showed he was low on energy, yet had an accelerated heartbeat, most likely due to his over consumption of caffeine. He pushed his scans aside and instead focused on the tablet in front of him as he continued to silently work. If the Detective wouldn't cooperate with him in the future then he saw their partnership only ending with one of them physically hurting the other.

Before long, he looked up as Officer Chen came into the break room, asking if she could sit next to him. He nodded and focused on her presence as it was obvious she had come to talk to him.

“I’m sorry about Gavin. I know he can be pretty harsh but he’s not so bad once you get to know him a little, and even then he’s still kind of an ass-”

“I am sorry to interrupt you Officer Chen, but I am not interested in your apologies on behalf of the Detective.” Nines said. Looking back down at his tablet, he continued.

“He is an insufferable man child who insists on holding my designed purpose over my head as if my deviancy means nothing. I understand his prejudice stems from his own insecurities and interactions with Connor but it is still infuriating to be treated like this.” The RK900′s LED swirled, from yellow to a deep red. He felt the officer reach over to put her hand on his shoulder, smiling at him in understanding. He realized how rude he sounded and nodded at her, his LED returning to its yellow color.

“I won’t be returning his threats in any way but I will not let him continue to berate me as if i was still a slave to my programming. The only positive about this situation is the fact that this partnership will end once Lieutenant Anderson and Connor return. I might not have a purpose, I’m still trying to figure that out for myself, but I do know that I don’t want to hurt anyone ever again. I want to protect androids and humans, including Detective Reed.” He looked at the officer next to him, a silent understanding between them.

“Well,” Officer Chen stood from the table and started to turn to walk out of the break room. “I just hope Gavin doesn’t try to do anything stupid. He’s all bark, hardly any bite. Just...don’t kill him, alright? He’s an asshole but he’s the only asshole I can stand in this place.” she said to the RK900 before making her way out of the break room.

“I’ll try not too.” The android said going back to look at his tablet before looking up once more to see Detective Reed stopping in his tracks as he saw the RK900 sitting in the break room.

“Fuck this shit.” The detective said, before turning back to return to his desk.

“These are going to be some very long months” the android thought as he looked back down at his tablet, finally alone to work in peace.

“Nines, I’m gonna need you to fuck off right now before I decide to switch you out for Connor.” Gavin said, obviously joking as he continued to chew on his last slice of pizza. He had managed to eat a whole box of some of the best fucking pizza in all of Detroit because fuck it if he gets fat, not like he’s really interested in getting laid any time soon. In fact he could go the rest of his life without getting laid so long as it kept Nines pestering him like a mother hen, with a concerned look on his face. He liked having Nines pay attention to him. He didn’t know why, but he assumed it was because it had become a lot easier to get under his skin since their partnership began. By not taking care of himself he got to see some very interesting expressions from Nines besides his usual cocky smirk and neutral face.

“Detective, I know you seem to find yourself quite charming in many ways but I highly doubt Connor would want to spend more than two minutes as your partner, no matter how nice he is.” Nines said, clearly amused by Gavin's assumption that he’d ever be able to actually get rid of Nines. He had become quite attached to the Detective over the past few months as partners, even if he still found him to be irritating, especially in the way he handled his personal health, he would never be able to picture himself being partnered up with anyone other than Gavin.

“I can already see that you’re desperately trying to be like the Lieutenant by gaining some weight, although he has lost a lot of his previous weight and is in fact quite healthy. Might even say a bit attractive, in a roguish kind of way if that's something people are into.” Nines smirked as he saw Gavin scowl at this and slam the pizza box that was on the table shut.

“Excuse me? Tin Can I would NEVER let myself go to the point of even looking remotely like Hank? And attractive?? Something must be wrong with your fucking eyes if you think Hank fucking Anderson is attractive in any way, shape, or form because I am ten times more attractive than he is!” Gavin sputtered out, clearly set off by Nines’ comment.

“Tell me Detective, does the possibility of me finding anyone attractive bother you?” Nines asked, clearly enjoying the reactions he was getting out of Gavin now that he had distracted him enough to take the slice of pizza and throw it into the trash.

Gavin hardly took notice, now riled up by Nines’ question.

“Listen here Tin Can, I don’t know what the fuck you’re insinuating but the only reason I even care is because I am obviously more attractive than Hank fucking Anderson so don’t go thinking you can get away with saying dumb shit like that. I refuse to be partnered up with an android with clearly faulty eyesight.”

Gavin and Nines continued to argue, jumping from topic to topic, not noticing the two officers who looked on from the other side of the break room, whispering among themselves and wondering if Detective Reed and Nines were actually friends or not. Their continued eavesdropping into the Detective and Nines’ conversation did nothing to answer their questions.

Gavin opened his eyes as he felt the sunlight that filtered in from his window beginning to warm his face. He groaned and closed his eyes, feeling the side of his bed for a body but only found cold sheets. That’s when he noticed the smell of coffee and a much lighter smell that mingled beautifully with the smell of coffee. Eggs. His stomach growled and urged him to follow the heavenly smells that were obviously coming from the kitchen.

Once he made his way out of the bedroom he found Nines, at the stove making breakfast. Making him breakfast. His heart squeezed inside his chest at the image before him. He smiled lazily and made his way over, hugging Nines from behind and looking over his shoulder to see exactly what he was making.

“Good morning, Gavin.”

“Morning Tin Can, whatcha making?” Gavin asked, as he began to smell something sweet emanating from the kitchen table.

“I thought since we made that Red Ice bust a couple days ago, that it would be nice to treat ourselves this morning. I made you breakfast that I had hoped I’d be able to bring you to bed and later I was hoping you’d join me in going to the library. They have just started accepting androids for library cards and I’d like to get one for myself.” Nines said, before turning around and kissing Gavin on the cheek.

“Holy shit what did I do to deserve you? And you can totally serve me breakfast in bed, just let me go back so I can lay down. Also I love you, but I refuse to leave my bed today until after 3 PM.” Gavin said, as he sauntered back to the bedroom to wait for his breakfast. In bed.

Nines chuckled and went back to cooking, drastically reducing the amount of sugar in Gavin’s coffee and making sure to bring some fruit for Gavin to eat. They were definitely treating themselves today but he was still going to force Gavin to have a balanced breakfast even if it killed him.

That’s it! Probably one of my my longer ones but I really enjoyed writing this one.

#fanfic #detroit evolution #reed900 #enemies to lovers #deartfest

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borhap-au · 4 years

Text

“No one understands”

Part two of Eugene Sledge x Black Reader.

“Courage meant overcoming fear and doing one’s duty in the presence of danger, not being unafraid.” - Eugene Bondurant Sledge

They talked long hours about inequality and the need for change. Neither of them even realized how late it was, until the room was completely empty and Eugene’s friend came to tell them they need to close the coffeehouse. They took their things, thanked the boy and went out of the shop.

“Well, I promised to get you back home safely,” he smiled while Angel shook her head.

“Oh, no. The only person I don’t want to mess with in this world is my dad. And he won’t be happy seeing me with a boy,” she chuckled quietly and he nodded his head.

“I understand,” after he said that, she felt a little bad. The real reason she did not want to let him walk her home, was because she promised her friend she will not be that “stupid.” However, she talked to him for hours and she grew to really like him. She did not want it to be their last meeting.

So she added, “but you know what? I finish my classes at 3 PM tomorrow. How about we meet in the coffeehouse around 3:30? I would like to talk to you some more,” she gave him a warm smile.

“I’d like that. You taught me a lot today. I’d love to find out some more,” he admitted. She fascinated him. Angel gave him a double thumbs up.

“Oh, no worry. I will bring a whole new set of facts and figures tomorrow. I must admit, you were a great student. I’m proud,” she chuckled quietly.

“And you were the best professor I’ve ever had. If only others could talk as interestingly as you do. Learning would be much easier,” he complimented her and she was really happy to receive such a compliment. Some guys complimented on her looks, others liked her personality and sense of humor, but she hardly ever received a compliment about her intelligence, which was the most important thing for her that anyone could point out about her.

“So, do we have an arrangement?” she asked, waiting for his reaction. “Will we see each other tomorrow?”

“Oh, most definitely. I wouldn’t keep a lady waiting,” she smiled in response. They said their goodbyes and each of them went their own way. Eugene turned around a few times to see her again. So did she, right before she turned to a corner she would not see him from, and their eyes met. They both smiled embarrassed. She was the first one to wave at him. He waved back. Then he lost her out of sight.

When he came back home, he kept on thinking about everything she said. Her words resonated in his mind. She was so right, about everything. Before that, he always thought not being a part of a problem was enough. That day he understood how important it was to actually be an active participant in the fight for justice. Fight other than physical, which was the only type they taught him in the military.

The next day he came a little early, as usual. He sat in the same corner and drank his coffee, waiting for her to show up. He really hoped she will not stood him up. He liked her and wanted to get to know her better. Minutes passed by, and she still did not show up in the door of the coffeehouse, despite Eugene observing it closely.

“I’m sorry for being late. They kept me longer in class,” she smiled apologetically, throwing her purse on the chair and sitting next to him.

“Oh, it’s not a problem. I hope you got home safely yesterday,” he started a conversation after the waiter brought her order.

“Yes, I did. It’s pretty close to my neighborhood. We all know each other there, I always feel safe,” she smiled and sipped her coffee.

“The sense of community is always nice,” he said while nodding his head. She wondered whether she should ask that question, but she couldn’t really help herself.

“Just like the army, right?” Angel looked at him biting her lip. She was not the one to be scared of tough conversations. Her topics were usually difficult, since she didn’t like a simple small talk. She wanted her life and her relations to be deeper and more meaningful than just that.

Eugene looked at her surprised, not expecting this kind of question at all. He put his coffee away and took a deep breath.

“You were in the army, weren’t you?” she asked, not wanting to let go that easily. She wanted to get to know him, and his army experience was obviously a huge part of his life.

“Yes, I was. For over three years,” he liked her. He wanted to be honest with her, but it really wasn’t the kind of topic he wanted to explore.

“My friend’s brothers all went to war. Most of them even returned. They enrolled even though their father was doing everything he could to get that idea out of their heads. His own father was born into slavery and he could not understand how could anyone risk their life for a country that enslaved their ancestors, tortured them and raped the women to create more free labor. But they went anyway. You know why?” he shook his head. He had some ideas, but preferred to let her speak. “Because that is their country. It was created on slavery. Slaves made the United States. Not to mention all those asshole who’d say we cannot decide for this country if we didn’t fight for it.”

Eugene nodded his head. He remembered very well all the slurs he heard directed at the Black community. He reacted every time, but unfortunately it rarely changed anything other than the soldiers’ opinion of Sledge.

“Not to mention the Double V. Victory in Europe and victory here. Have you heard about it?” she asked looking at Eugene.

“Yes, actually, I did. I support the cause wholeheartedly. I can’t imagine how it must feel… It’s already hard enough coming home from war, feeling estranged and misplaced. I can’t imagine how it felt for them, coming back to a segregated country that doesn’t even allow you to sit in the front of the bus, even though you risked your life for freedom of that country…” he scoffed and shook his head. “The greatest democracy in the world, fighting with the nationalistic regime of Germany whose segregated country used the US as their role model for that separation.”

She raised her eyebrow and he nodded, confirming what he has just said is true.

“In the 30s, when they were isolating Jews from the rest of the society, they looked at the American model of segregation. I read a report on it. I guess the United States must be really proud to be such a great idol for others,” he said ironically.

“That’s just outrageous…” she sighed and then looked at him. “Can you tell me the stories you have of Black soldiers? I ask this question to anyone I know who went to war.” He hesitated, not being happy about speaking of war, but finally agreed, since he did not have to talk about himself specifically.

“The situation was no better than the one back here. The troops were segregated. At the beginning they didn’t even allow none of the Black men to carry a gun. I guess they were scared of a revolution, or whatever other thing white men thought they obviously deserved for their actions. So the Black men were used for other things. They unpacked the trucks, cooked, drove cars. Only later, when we were short of men, they allowed Black troops to actually fight. A lot of them became great pilots. I really respect their courage, cause after all they fought for a country which doesn’t even treat them like full citizens…”

“’Like actual humans,’ that’s what you wanted to say. You don’t have to be afraid of the truth,” she interrupted him. “It’s because of the Double V. We need justice all over the world, we need to stop racists in America, Europe and everywhere else. We don’t stop here, it’s just a start. We managed to win in Germany, so why not here?” she smiled, and her smile was full of hope that one day things will be better.

“I understand their reasons now. Thank you, it became cleared to me,” Eugene smiled. He already loved listening to her. She spoke with such energy and faith in her cause. “But I have to tell you, their determination was like no other’s. Because I don’t know a single white man who would keep on pushing and trying to get in combat for a country that segregates army’s bathrooms… Hell, they segregated even blood donations! Can you imagine that? As if Black blood was any different from white… I mean, it’s red. It’s blood.” She just shook her head with disapproval and disgust, but she was not surprised at all. What for him was a shocking news, for her was everyday life.

“There’s a great poem, I don’t know if you heard about it. It’s called ‘Beaumont to Detroit’ by Langston Hughes,” she looked at him expecting a reaction, but he just shook his head.

“I’m sorry, I never heard of it,” he admitted, ashamed he was not familiar with it. She took a book out of her bag. It was a notebook with a handwritten title: “Poems of Freedom, Justice and Equality.” She opened it on selected page and began to read the poem to him.

“’…I ask you this question/Cause I want to know/How long I got to fight/BOTH HITLER – AND JIM CROW,’” she finished reading the poem and looked at him for reaction. He did not say anything for a long moment.

“That’s… That’s a really good poem. And it touches all the painful spots. I’m just really sorry, on behalf of all men…”

“No, don’t apologize for them. They wouldn’t apologize. They don’t apologize and they won’t apologize. They don’t feel sorry. You feel sorry, and you have nothing to apologize for. You’re one of the good guys. We don’t judge people because of what they ancestors did to us. We judge people by their current actions. We want to be heard, acknowledged. We understand that living your whole life in a country based on slavery might’ve made you turn a blind eye on some issues. We understand that the systemic racism made you believe in certain things. We really know all of that. But it doesn’t excuse anyone from learning. The problem is very often ignorance. People just assume something is this way because it’s ought to be this way. Or they say something in supposedly good faith, and when we educate them about it being a wrong thing to say, they don’t want to acknowledge their mistake. That I don’t understand and I won’t accept. Everyone makes mistakes. As a white man, you cannot know about all the issues a Black woman faces. But you should be willing to learn about them and fix your mistakes,” Eugene thought to himself that this girl should be a universally known speaker. She spoke with such respect, intelligence and charisma. She knew how to put the issues so that everyone understood her. She could’ve been the next Sojourner Truth if they let her. And it was then when it hit him. Why has he heard of so many Black male orators, but so few women? Was it that the system wanted to silence Black women in particular? Was the problem rooted not only in racism, but also in sexism? Yes, of course it was. Eugene could not believe it took him so long to see how oppressed were the Black women, who had to fought not just with white men, but also with white women, who did not want to acknowledge their femininity, in order to cut them from the feminist movement.

“So teach me. Tell me, please. If you want to. What are the most common mistakes white people make? I’ll try to teach others about them, so we can all know better,” she smiled hearing that. She thoroughly enjoyed having such a clever student.

“First of all, stop with the ‘I don’t see color’ thing. I’m glad you acknowledge that a color of one’s skin shouldn’t be a reason to treat them as a lesser human. I mean, it should be obvious, but unfortunately it isn’t. But it’s not a good thing to say things like that. Because by ‘not seeing color’ you don’t acknowledge the pain and struggle Black people have to endure every single day. Another thing – could the white ladies just stop asking to touch our hair? We’re not their puppies to pet. And don’t assume you understand. Don’t talk about those issues as if they were yours. It’s not just for you specifically, of course, is directed at all white people. I hear all too often them discussing our experience as if they were all-knowing. You have no idea. You have just the point of view of the oppressor, even if you don’t oppress anyone knowingly or purposefully. You didn’t live the struggle, so respect the fact you don’t know how it feels,” he actually took out a notebook and wrote down some of the things she said, as she continued to lecture him. They talked about race and social issues, and then their conversation turned more casual. They talked about books and poetry and exchanged some names they might like to read. Finally, Eugene found the courage to ask the question he thought about for some time.

“Would you like to maybe go out with me? Like… Not for a coffee, for a dinner for example,” he smiled and then looked down, being a little shy. He did not ask a girl out since he was in high school, apart from that one ball after he returned from the war, but neither he nor the girl enjoyed their time there.

Angel smiled slightly, but needed to remind him of something that he did not realize as he usually did not have to live with it. She was not surprised he did not know. Most white people do not think of such things before making plans, because the issue did not involve them.

“If you can find a restaurant that will allow us to sit there, sure,” her smile was a little sad. In Washington maybe it would be easier, but they were still in Alabama. “They usually don’t allow mixed couples in the public eye, you know, not to ruin their reputation. Black people are hardly allowed in any fancy places anyway.”

“So… I invite you to my house. I’ll cook the dinner,” he smiled. Of course, he did not think of the reputation his household will have among his neighbors after that event, but if anyone reminded him of it, he would say he did not care. If they had a problem with that, then it means they were racist, and he did not wish to affiliate himself with such people. “I can pick you up from wherever you want. I assume your father may not appreciate my presence at your house.”

“Oh, no. Just give me the time and address. I will definitely be there and get there on my own. I cannot wait to see what you’ll make for that dinner,” she gave him a big smile. She wrote down the address and they agreed on the time. They were both really happy about the meeting. Neither of them commented on how happy they were, because they did not want to jinx it or appear weird, but they definitely could not wait for the Saturday to come. And it sure looked promising.

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justanother-unluckysoul · 4 years

Text

Working My Way Back To You 5/?

Killian gets captured. When Emma finally rescues him, he’s traumatized and nearly broken from the torture he endured. Angst and h/c galore as Emma helps him through it.

I tried to go easy on the whumpy side of it since it’s supposed to be for Comfortember, but it’s me so I probably failed lol

Thank you for your continued support of my little story! Today we have some Killian POV for the prompts “PTSD” and “Emotional Support Pet.” (because Emma's headspace is hard to get into for me lol) Killian is physically healed enough to leave the hospital, but his mental wounds remain…

No special warnings for this chapter.

Also, this is unbeta-d so forgive my errors.

If anyone would like to be tagged in future chapters so they won’t miss them, let me know :)

Read this chapter on AO3

Working My Way Back To You

PTSD + Emotional Support Pet

Killian wakes at dawn, tugged from the comfort of sleep by the throbbing in his fingers, pulsing in time with his heartbeat. He’s so damn tired of waking up in misery. The doctor had decreased his medication, the one that dulled both the sharp edges of his pain and of his thoughts, leaving him clear minded at last, but hurting more than he’d ever let on. Emma’s still in the chair next to his bed, bent forward with her head resting on her forearms on the mattress, snoring softly. She’s supposed to have slept in the other bed, but after she’d woken Killian from his twisted dreams for the third time that night, she must have been too exhausted to move again. Killian closes his eyes, shame and frustration washing over him.

It’s been eight days since her and David dragged him out of that accursed cellar. The first few days, he mostly just slept, and wrestled with his nightmares, waking each morning feeling no better for the sleep he’d had. People – his friends – wanted to visit him but he declined them all after that first visit from Snow and David. Killian didn’t want anyone else to see him in this state, weakened and exhausted and flinching at every new sound, every sudden movement. His body felt like the string of a bow, constantly pulled tight, and the walks in the hospital garden didn’t help as there were always other people out there. He needed some quiet, and there was never a moment of that in this place. He needed some peace. Some release from this tension. Most of all, he just needed people to stop looking at him. And the stitches on his hand began to itch terribly as the wounds healed, further adding to his frustration. The doctor and the nurses bore the brunt of Killian’s dark mood, and he felt rotten for it, but he couldn’t stop himself lashing out. It was all he could do to remain civil with Emma.

But slowly, his anger had shifted into something like resignation – a hollow, empty feeling in his chest as he came to terms with what’s been done to him. Emma has hardly left his side since his rescue, and Killian feels so guilty that she must help him with everything now. His beautiful, perfect Swan. He’d tried his best to dispel the awkwardness, but there’s really nothing that can take away how humiliating using the bathroom is without a functional hand. Emma took it all in her stride, of course. She’d shaved his beard down the way he liked, fed him, dressed him, bathed him… And having Emma’s assistance with showering, now that was a bit of fun. She placed some manner of waterproof bag over his hand so the stitches would stay dry, tying it closed around his wrist to keep out the spray, and laughed when Killian commented on how brilliant the design of this ‘waterproof hand bag’ was. Because apparently, a hand bag was something else entirely, and this thing on his hand had actually been designed for a completely different use. But it worked well – as did Emma’s hands bathing him, and Killian smirks and his tongue darts out to wet his lips at that extremely pleasing memory, Emma’s stifled giggle and shut up, Killian, someone’s going to hear you. He definitely wants to experience that again in the privacy of their own home and this time he’d grab Emma and… The image in his mind falters because he still has the splints bracing his fingers, and the doctor says he can’t remove that for a while yet. Well, no matter, he’ll use his mouth then. And they could make as much noise as they wanted. Emma would-

“Killian, what are you thinking about?”

Emma’s looking at him with a sleepy, confused expression. He wonders how long she’s been awake.

“Oh, nothing, just… thinking how satisfying showering in our own home will feel tonight.”

And he lets his eyes blaze heatedly into hers as he slowly swipes his tongue across his lips, adding a little bounce of his eyebrows just to really make his meaning clear. It gets the reaction he’d hoped. Emma’s mouth drops open slightly and her face flushes, her mind obviously conjuring up a truly wonderful image of them in said shower.

“Killian,” she squeaks, glancing at the closed door in case someone has overheard him.

There’s nobody there, of course, and Killian gives her a wicked grin. She’s always been so much fun to tease.

Killian’s briefly agreeable mood evaporates when the doctor comes in after breakfast, for his final examination to ensure Killian is well enough to leave. The daily exams have been gruelling, the doctor’s touch triggering memories he’d rather not have, and it’s only Emma’s steadying presence at his side that keeps him complying with them. Now as the doctor presses his stethoscope against Killian’s ribs he has to resist the urge to fight. Or to run. He’s not sure which compulsion is going to win out in the end.

“Take a deep breath for me,” the doctor instructs.

Killian does, wincing slightly at the consequential jabs of pain. Emma had done a marvellous job healing him, but it seemed that by the time she’d focused on his broken ribs, either her magic or just her concentration had begun to waver, leaving him with an uncomfortable twinge when he drew too large a breath. It didn’t bother him enough to ask her to heal it further.

“How does that feel?” the doctor asks, “Still some pain there, hmm?”

“Only a little.”

He just wants this over with. He wants to be at home in his own bed with Emma tucked into his side. He wants to stand on the Jolly Roger’s deck and breathe in the ocean air with his arm around Emma. Honestly, he’ll be happy to do anything, as long as it’s not in the hospital and it involves him touching Emma in some way. Then the doctor moves his attention to Killian’s hand and the urge to flee ramps up tenfold. Emma’s hand is heavy on his shoulder, squeezing a bit harder than what is necessary, though he appreciates the fortitude she’s relaying to him through the touch because he seems to be running on empty these days.

“You’re healing well,” the doctor says at the end of his assessment, “I think we can organize a jail break today, what do you think? Home for Christmas.”

Killian’s too busy trying to pull air into his strangely uncooperative lungs and calm his racing heart, like always after his exams. And now the doctor is giving him a look that makes him feel exposed and vulnerable. He doesn’t like it at all. He glares back, drawing on that dark sort of intensity that makes lesser men cower before him. The doctor is a lesser man, it seems, because even in Killian’s current state, it works. The doctor immediately breaks eye contact and picks some spot on the far wall to look at instead, shuffling his feet awkwardly.

“That would be great,” says Emma on Killian’s behalf, seemingly unaware of the silent exchange between the pirate and the doctor.

“Do you mind if I talk to you alone for a moment, Miss Swan?”

Killian feels a surge of dread at the doctor’s question, at the thought of being left alone. But when Emma meets his eyes in silent query, he nods his assent. He’ll be fine, he doesn’t need her to metaphorically hold his hand. He’s fine. Emma and the doctor leave the room and Killian is fine. And he doesn’t know why he’s trembling. He closes his eyes, breathes deep enough that his cracked ribs pinch at him again, calls up a soothing mental image of a full moon over the open sea. He knows how to deal with fear, he’s just not entirely sure why he’s feeling so much of it right now. It’s a small comfort that Snow White had brought him his brace and hook, left it with Emma in the hall outside because Killian adamantly refused to accept her visit. It makes him feel a bit more like himself, although the doctor wouldn’t allow Killian to actually wear the hook on it and made Emma take it home. “It is a weapon, Captain, and with your mental state being what it is, it wouldn’t be safe for the staff.” Killian had felt a strong impulse to punch the man for that comment but the fact the splints stopped his fingers from curling into the necessary fist had quickly crushed that urge. The return of his hook is yet another thing he’ll appreciate about leaving this damn hospital. That is, if the doctor even lets him leave today. Calm yourself, mate, or he certainly won’t. Between one careful breath and the next, Emma is back at his side, looking down at him with far too much concern.

“Hey, Killian. You okay?”

Her hand comes back to his shoulder, gentle and light this time, slow and deliberate so she doesn’t spook him - that’s happened before, Killian flinching away before he could stop himself, and Emma had been so upset with herself. She’s been more careful with him since then.

“Aye,” he says with a cheerfulness he doesn’t feel as he stands up, “What did the doc say?”

“That you’re healed enough to go home.”

Killian knows immediately that she’s hiding something. It makes no sense for the doctor to take her out of his hearing just to confirm that Killian can go home today. And there’s was a hesitation in Emma’s response and in her smile.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” she replies too fast, but then seeing his disbelieving look she adds, “…that we need to worry about right now. Let’s just go home, okay?”

Killian looks into her eyes and sees hope and worry and love and he really, really can’t wait to get home. He presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

“Let’s go home.”

Their house is deafeningly quiet after the constant bustle of the hospital. Henry’s staying with Regina for the night, and Killian’s thankful for that because he’s worn out from the day’s events already, although there are still several hours of daylight left, and he doesn’t think he could handle the lad’s exuberance right now. He sits at the table, his hook finally back in place, and appreciates the sounds of her making hot chocolate, driving away the silence. He’d found himself craving a drink besides water and since he’s apparently not supposed to drink anything alcoholic while on this pain medication, hot chocolate it is then. He’s rather come to enjoy the sweet beverage, the warmth comforting and calming now that he’s used to just how sweet it is – even without Emma adding the cream or the sugar, the way she made her own. It had taken him some time to get used to this realm’s obsession with flavours and sometimes he still struggles. Everything was just so much. Emma’s approach pulls him from his reflections.

“Here you go,” she says, placing a mug on the table in front of him, with a straw in it.

Right. Killian had nearly forgotten that he couldn’t even hold a damn cup at the moment. Trying to hide his frustration, he dips his head to catch the straw in his mouth and takes a sip. Then he straightens up and gives Emma his full attention.

“So are you going to tell me what it was the doctor said to you?” he asks.

She takes a slow mouthful of her own drink, very obviously delaying her response.

“You’re showing signs of Petey Essdee,” she finally says in a rush.

Killian just raises his eyebrow. He’s not heard of that term before.

“Of what? Sorry, Swan, but you’re gonna have to explain that one to me.”

“Oh. Right. Of course. Um.” Her face scrunches up a little as she tries to think. “It’s post-traumatic stress disorder. Shell shock? Battle fatigue? I don’t know what you call it where you came from.”

But Killian knows that term well enough. In his pirating days, he’d seen many a man lose himself in the horrors of what he’d done or seen. One of them had been part of Killian’s own crew and he remembers with a rush of shame how he’d snarled you bloody coward and thrown the shivering man overboard for the mermaids, without a shred of remorse at the time. But Killian’s far stronger than those men and he’s been through worse things than this. His eyes narrow.

“Do you really think so?”

Emma shrugs a bit guiltily.

“The doctor’s right. The symptoms are there. Nightmares, avoidance,” she ticks them off on his fingers, “the way you don’t want anyone to touch your hand-”

“Of course I bloody don’t,” Killian snaps.

“…irritability,” she continues, giving him a meaningful look before continuing, “anxiety attacks. Killian, he just recommended you talk to Archie, okay? Work through those feelings a bit.”

He wants to say no. He really, really does. What does the cricket know of suffering anyway? He can’t help with this – Archie’s likely never experienced anything more alarming than that time Killian threatened to dissect him. But Emma’s meeting his eyes with a look just as intense as his own, and in the end he’s the one to break off the stare, take another mouthful of hot chocolate, and agree to what she’s asking of him.

“Why didn’t the doctor tell me this himself?” he asks, after a moment of quiet.

“He was… a bit scared of you, I think. You’ve been kind of short tempered lately.”

Killian can’t deny that.

Though he has regained some of his strength through regular meals and plenty of rest, Killian guesses he still suffering from the effects of too little sleep and too many beatings, because his stamina is pathetically low – and it doesn’t help that his sleep is still interrupted by bad dreams. Because he fully intended to make full use of the shower that night, but he makes the mistake of lying down on the bed first (just for a moment, to gather his strength) and that’s the end of it. He wakes still on the bed, next to Emma, not long after dawn, the remnants of a dream he can’t quite remember making his heart race and his breaths shiver through him. Emma makes a quiet noise of displeasure as he carefully slips out from under the covers, although she doesn’t fully wake. Killian goes to the bathroom, snarls at his reflection in the mirror when he realises he can’t even splash water on his face, not without getting something to cover his stitches first. Bloody hell, he hates this with a fiery passion. Not for the first time since his rescue, Killian’s suddenly desperate to look upon the sea again and at least that is something he can do. He’d fallen asleep in his clothes, and Emma had obviously not wanted to disturb his sleep by stripping him, so it’s just a matter of slipping his boots back on and putting his hook into place. Then he awkwardly scribbles a note for Emma so she won’t worry when she wakes alone, with the pen tucked between his thumb and the rest of his hand. It’s legible enough, he decides, although far from his usual precision.

The sun is still low on the horizon, casting deep shadows across the harbour. Killian settles on the edge of the dock, his boots dangling above the water, breathing the cold, salty air deep into his lungs. There’s a school of brightly coloured fish below his feet, swimming in a pattern that’s somehow both chaotic and soothing, and Killian feels himself begin to unwind. Gods, he’s missed this. He sits there until the sun is much higher, revelling in the warmth of it seeping through his leather coat, the briny scent, the taste of salt on his tongue, the sound of water lapping gently against the dock, the-

“Hey, Killian.”

Killian jumps a little at how close the voice is. He feels himself losing his balance at his sudden motion and has a moment of panic when he can’t just grab the edge of the dock with his hand to stop his forward wobble. He stabs his hook into the wood instead to anchor himself. A hand catches his shoulder, further steadying him, and he absolutely does not flinch. (He does. Damn it. He wishes he would stop being so easily startled.)

“Sorry,” says Henry, “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No harm done,” Killian assures him with a smile, pretending his heart isn’t trying to beat right out of his chest.

Henry releases Killian’s shoulder and sits down next to him.

“Mom said you were down here. What’s up?”

He peers into the water below them.

“Watching the fish, huh?”

“Yeah. It’s… calming. Being here. I’ve missed it.”

Killian doesn’t feel as much of a need to keep up his ‘tough pirate appearance,’ as Emma calls it, when it’s only Henry around. In fact, much to his surprise he realizes there are now several people he feels he can let down his guard around, for the most part. Emma, of course. David. Snow White. And he supposes he’ll have to do the same with the cricket fairly soon too. The idea brings a dark cloud over his thoughts again.

“Yeah, I bet. Hey, we should get some pet fish,” Henry says, “You know, maybe having a piece of this place at home will help and you won’t have to run off when you get nightmares.”

Henry immediately realizes he’s said the wrong thing. Killian’s muscles have tightened, his teeth biting down on the immediate defensive response he wants to give. He’s not sure why Henry’s flippant comment has bothered him so much, but it has. Maybe because he makes it sound like Killian is a coward. Running off when you get nightmares. And Killian can’t deny it because that’s exactly what he’d done, wasn’t it? Maybe he is a coward.

“I-I mean… Not that coming to the docks is wrong, I just…” Henry scrambles for words.

Killian takes a deep breath and lets it out slowly, watching it hang in the air in front of his face.

“It’s alright, lad, I know your intention,” he says, careful to smooth the irrational anger that’s trying to sharpen his tone, “And it’s not a bad idea either, if you can convince your mother.”

Emma’s right about his outbursts. He hasn’t felt so out of control in a long time, the darkness twisting its way through his very soul, erupting hot and vicious at the slightest provocation. A shiver runs up his spine and he busies himself with working his hook out of the boards.

“Great!” Henry flashes him a grin. “And don’t worry, I’m sure she’ll agree.”

And that’s how, about a week later, Emma and Killian’s house becomes home to a decent sized glass tank full of colourful fish that Henry calls “Killian’s emotional support fish.” And Henry had been right; watching them is calming. It’s not the same as being at the docks or on his ship, of course, but it does help. He’s grateful for the lad’s idea especially that time he wakes in the night with fear twisting his gut and realizes it’s pouring rain outside, freezing cold, and Emma would have his hide if he attempted to visit the docks in this weather, he puts Henry’s theory to the test. Later, Emma finds him sitting on the couch watching the fish across the room, breaths carefully slow and when she tucks herself against his side, he manages a smile that he actually means.

To be continued...

#comfortember 2020 #cs ff #hurt/comfort #angst #ptsd #killian jones #emma swan #henry mills #captain swan #my fanfics

12 notes · View notes

phyripo · 4 years

Note

33 with EstLiet? 👀

33. “You’re cute with glasses.”

Yeee! I’m so sorry that this took an actual century! What happened is: I wrote three separate stories for this prompt pretty quickly, didn’t like two of them and accidentally turned the third into a different pairing (but I did like it so I will post it in the near future), got discouraged, read the entirety of Return of the King in procrastination, and then I wrote this high fantasy... Thing. Honestly, I’m still not sure I’m satisfied and it’s very Out There considering the prompt but yeaH,, I hope you like it anyway :V

uhh so names are pretty straightforward but y’know, Tolys is Liet, Eduard is Est, Raivis is Lat, Erzsébet is Hun and Nadzeya is Bela c:

Finally, they have arrived in the southern Elven kingdom, and Tolys’s Elvish traveling companions have been whisked away by their kin immediately, expectedly. This has left him with only Raivis, who is sitting on a high table and looking around in wonder at the Elven building. His small legs swing out as he leans back on his hands.

“I knew we were traveling with an Elven Queen,” he says, “but this is all so incredible!”

Tolys nods. He could never have predicted that his search for his family’s long-lost heirlooms might lead him to find company in not only Raivis, who is most likely the first of his kind to travel so far south, but also in a party of three northern Elves seeking to join their kin in the newly reclaimed southern kingdom. Let alone could he have foreseen, of course, that one of them would actually be the Queen-in-exile.

“Everyone will be so jealous back home,” Raivis is now saying, as he inspects the fine, light clothes the Elves have gifted them. Although the lands remain yet war-torn, the Elves of the south have been more than generous to the Halfling and the Man. Tolys wagers that Erzsébet has been exaggerating their involvement in overcoming the obstacles on the way here. She acted as the Queen’s guard and became fond of Raivis in particular, having hardly met his kind before.

It's also difficult not to be fond of Raivis in general, Tolys thinks.

As approachable as Erzsébet was, with none of the expected Eleven superiority or contempt, so closed off and cool were Queen Nadzeya and the Elven clerk, Eduard. At least, when first they met. Both of them looked like northern Elves, tall and pale with hair of starlight and eyes like the lakes in their kingdom, and Tolys had been starstruck by their otherworldliness, thinking at first that Eduard must be a prince himself. However, he was merely a scribe, traveling along to record the Queen’s journey south, and he was, in fact, Erzsébet’s cousin.

“Do you think we’re allowed to leave?” Raivis asks, jumping the considerable height off the table so that his bare feet thud on the wooden floor. The buildings here have been rigged up by some ingenious engineering, or perhaps magic, between the jagged mountains and the unnaturally tall trees.

Many of the trees were felled over the past centuries, since the Elves were driven away far before Tolys was born, and more yet torn down in the battle to reclaim the land. It hadn’t been difficult to feel his companions’ sorrow as they entered their kingdom. Erzsébet had appeared particularly upset at the jagged wood, and Eduard had sung softly to the earth itself. New sprouts were already coming up.

Tolys imagines Raivis wants to take a look at the young trees himself—Halflings, that much he has learned, have a fondness for all growing things.

“We weren’t told to stay here, were we?”

Raivis shrugs, standing on his tiptoes to peer out of the window. His blond curls barely reach the edge. He gasps.

“Tolys, Nadzeya is coming over here!”

Raivis never quite warmed up to the Queen, which, in all honesty, Tolys doesn’t blame him for. She is so intimidatingly beautiful that it’s difficult to see past. It took him many weeks, and he attributes it to his upbringing more than anything.

Now, he stands and opens the door at her knock.

Unsure what the proper Elven greeting for a monarch is, he bows.

“Welcome, Your Majesty.”

Raivis follows his example, albeit with a stutter and clasping his hands together in what must be the way of the Halflings.

Nadzeya blinks, silent. Her eyelids are painted dark as ever—apparently a sign of mourning in the north, for family she lost in the battle for the south. Erzsébet had marked her body with intricate ink patterns in the southern way. Eduard had cut his hair short. He had, he told Tolys, lost his younger brother in the fight led by the southern Prince.

It’s still difficult to believe that he is related to Erzsébet. They look so little alike.

All of a sudden, Nadzeya laughs, just for a second as if startled into it. It definitely startles Tolys and Raivis in turn.

“Your—” Tolys starts. She shakes her head sharply.

“Oh, please, I’ve had enough of that for a few centuries. Eduard is looking for you, I think you’ll find he has important news.” She rolls her eyes. “The idiot.”

Tolys bristles a little on Eduard’s behalf, and Nadzeya snorts in the most un-royal manner. She isn’t wearing any kind of crown now, not even the silver circlet she wore to travel. Her hair is, in fact, completely unbound. He knows that is unusual for Elves. Maybe, it’s part of some sort of ceremony or ritual.

“Where can I find Eduard…” He bites his lip. It feels strange not to add an honorific. “My Lady?”

“You know what, even that’s too much.” Nadzeya’s expression is unreadable, as usual. “As for Eduard; he is, of course, in the library. We have some extensive genealogies preserved of important families of Men.”

“Ah,” Tolys breathes, now recognizing the amused spark in her eyes. “Yes, of course. Where…”

Gesturing, Nadzeya says, “That way, the building says library. I know you read Elvish.”

“Shall I come?” Raivis asks nervously, glancing up at the Queen. Tolys shakes his head.

“I’ll return shortly.”

As he leaves, he hears Nadzeya say something dry to the Halfling, and hopes he will be all right.

It seems odd for the Queen to be out like this, but then again, what does he really know about Elvish traditions? Let alone courtly ones? Perhaps, this is just how it goes around here.

It is a short walk to the library, and he meets no one on his way there. More Elves are expected to arrive over the coming year, to help restore the kingdom and make it the thriving realm it once was, but as of yet, very few are here.

Eduard is easy to spot. The Elf sits by a window, pale hair shimmering in the golden sunlight. He’s shielding a scroll from the sun, long fingers skimming over the parchment. With his other hand, he adjusts—

“I have never seen an Elf wear eyeglasses before,” Tolys finds himself saying.

Eduard starts, looking up at him through the round spectacles, pinched on his nose with golden a golden frame.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

At that, he smiles and shakes his head. He carefully rolls the scroll and slides it back into its casing.

“I don’t mind at all.” He adjusts the frames, smiling faintly. “It’s good to have them back. My handwriting is much better when I can see what I’m writing.”

Tolys takes a seat at the high desk across from his Elven friend, glancing down at the scroll’s tube. He bites down on a wry smile.

“That’s good. They look nice. You’re—you’re cute with glasses.”

“That…” Eduard is stunned silent, which is endearing, and obviously not thinking about the scroll at all, which is good. “Cute?”

“Hm.” Tolys bites his lip and leans his chin in his hand. “Like a young Halfling would be, I imagine.”

“I’ve never—do you know how old I am?”

Interested, Tolys leans forward. He actually does not know. It was enough to understand that he was the youngest in their little company. Raivis, despite appearances, is almost forty years old, a few years older than Tolys. Halflings age slowly. Elves, of course, hardly age at all.

“Two thousand two hundred and twenty-two years old, and you call me cute.” He sounds more amused than indignant. It’s quite a pleasant sound.

“That’s a nice number,” Tolys says absently, much more interested in the sparkle that has entered Eduard’s light eyes than the glasses itself.

“I suppose it is.” He glances away. Sighs, and laces his long, elegant fingers together in front of his chest. “I was injured during the first battle. It damaged my sight.”

“I apologize.”

“No need. Most Elves use charms to see when such injuries occur, but we passed through a human kingdom on the way north, where I was introduced to eyeglasses like these. I find that they’re much less straining.”

Tolys know the story of the Elven refugees well.

“The kingdom of Vilnius,” he whispers. He cannot help but look at the scroll again, the familiar crest on the case. If his father had known the Elves kept all those histories here, protected for centuries…

“Indeed.”

They study each other for a long while. Tolys knows he doesn’t look like much to an Elf, even after being given the opportunity to bathe in a natural hotspring and festooned with an outfit far too fine for the likes of him. He isn’t terribly tall, and his brown hair is always a mess, curling when he doesn’t want it to and getting in his face despite his best efforts. Eduard is… Well, he’s an Elf. While they were on the road, it was easy to imagine that they were friends, and perhaps they are, still. But Tolys has no illusions that it will be the same. That he will ever get the chance to address the profound trust he has in Eduard, the appreciation for his almost Mannish groundedness but Elven whims at the same time.

Especially not when Eduard, who’s possibly the smartest being Tolys has ever met, clearly know that Tolys has lied to him, if just by omission.

“I met Queen Saulė, as we fled north,” Eduard eventually says, voice soft. “They said she had eyes like the plains of her kingdom, but they reminded me of the forest I left behind.”

Tolys lowers his own eyes. He studies the elegant woodgrain of this desk, that had stood here for all that time. It must have been protected somehow, and it wouldn’t surprise him if Eduard himself had placed the guarding charms.

“I know you looked familiar.”

With a sigh, he meets Eduard’s eye.

“I am the first in a long time, my father has told me, to have her eyes.” He tucks his hair away. “He saw it as a sign, especially after the Elves went south. It’s an age for reclaiming, he said.”

“Maybe, he was right,” Eduard says, looking thoughtful. “When Vilnius fell and your people were exiled like mine, the north came to their aid. We weren’t many and couldn’t fight for the realm, but we have since preserved the symbols of Queen Saulė’s power. Your family’s power.”

“What?” Tolys blurts. In his shock, he nearly topples of his stool, and Eduard grasps his arm, fingers cool through his fine green tunic. He smiles.

“That is what your father wants you to find, isn’t it?”

Tolys nods, wide-eyed.

“My people will bring the Sunstaff south. You may take it, and we would send Elves with you to take Vilnius, if you wish.”

“That—no—but.” Tolys takes a very deep breath. “I’ve lied to you. I lied to the Queen. Will Nadzeya even—”

Eduard ducks his head, clearing his throat. The pointed tips of his ears flush.

“I lied,” Tolys repeats faintly. Raivis knew, because just wanted to help, but…

“Yes, you did, but it’s no matter.” Again, Eduard clears his throat, and he finally removes his hand from Tolys’s arm to adjust his eyeglasses. “Not when your lie was no greater than any of ours.”

“What do you mean?”

He keeps fiddling with his glasses. The gesture is endearing, strangely.

“I hope… I hope you can forgive us—me. It would be a terrible loss to lose your…” He meets Tolys’s gaze, his eyes like sea-glass, strong yet brittle and colored like a quiet tide. “Companionship.”

“Nadzeya isn’t the Queen, is she?”

“Nadzeya is a northern noble. Her brother and sister followed my brother as he rode out.”

“Your brother.”

“I tried to stop him, but he was so young, barely an adult when we left the south. I always knew he would be the one to lead the quest, and I think I always knew I would lose him for it.”

“Your brother led the Elves?” Tolys feels quite heavy as the understanding of what this means dawns on him. “Your brother was the Prince-in-exile.”

“He was.” He sighs. “And a stubborn fool, too.”

“But that means you…” He bites his lip. “Erzsébet is the Queen.”

“Indeed. We decided to travel incognito.”

There had been some skirmishes on the road, nasty traveling beasts and Men who always went for Nadzeya on her horse, attracted to her gown and jewels even if they weren’t aware she was the supposed Queen. Tolys had thought it seemed inadvisable to travel with such a small party, at least at first. Erzsébet, who not only had mourning inks but also warrior’s lines and scars across her body, could probably have fought all the enemies off by herself, especially because they never paid attention to her, but Tolys was glad to help, and Nadzeya defended herself admirably with an innate magic that hurt Tolys’s eyes and head whenever he tried to look at the crackling darkness.

More than before, he feels for Nadzeya, because her position in this was one where she could be killed, and she had evidently taken that risk willingly.

Eduard wasn’t much of a fighter, but he held his own, and so did Raivis, much to the Elves’ surprise. Tolys already knew Halflings were a hardy folk.

“But… Why put any of you in danger like that?” he asks. “Why not travel with the larger caravan, or pretend none of you were royalty?”

Eduard smiles wryly, pushing his short hair away from his handsome face.

“It was known the Queen would travel south—rumors have wings—and the larger caravan will also have an Elf pretend to be her. It was mainly Erzsébet’s idea to go swiftly, before the enemies gather larger groups.” He sighs. “I am sorry I couldn’t tell you. I don’t wish to lose your trust.”

Tolys reaches across the desk, although he refrains from touching the Elven clerk.

“You haven’t.”

And, really, it is easy to see how this was the best decision given the circumstances, similar to how he hid the nature of his own quest from the Elves. Eduard looks at his hand, the rough fingers so different to his own slender ones. With a curious frown, he touches them quickly.

“Then, I thank you, Tolys of Vilnius.”

“Thank you,” he breathes in return, gaze flicking to the scroll again.

“I would be honored to come with you, of course,” Eduard continues, adjusting his glasses again. “If you would have me.”

Tolys wasn’t lying, earlier. He looks younger with the spectacles. A little less ethereal, more like someone warm and trustworthy, as he truly is.

“I would be honored to share it with you, Eduard.” He curls his fingers, grazing Eduard’s warm palm.

For a while, they are both silent, gently touching across the desk. Eduard is smiling absently, those light eyes shimmering in the sunlight as it dims ever so slightly. Tolys cannot wait to show him his home; even though it will be next to nothing compared to this place, even in disrepair as the kingdom is, he will be proud to share it with the Elf.

“Oh!” Eduard says. “I had nearly forgotten. I promised Erzsébet to take you and Raivis to her. She would like to extend the official friendship of the Elves to both of your people.”

“I left Raivis with Nadzeya.” He blinks. “So she isn’t royalty at all?”

An amused little smirk crosses Eduard’s lips, and Tolys breathes out slowly, curling his fingers a little more.

“What is it?”

“If Erzsébet has any say in it, she will be.” Suddenly, he frowns, peering over his glasses. “You left Raivis with Nadzeya?”

“I’m certain he’ll be fine. He’s tough.”

Eduard looks dubious, but he stands and gestures for Tolys to follow him to the grand door of the library. It has turned dusky, and the light filters through leaves to tinge his pale hair gold and his eyes almost translucent as he stands in the arch of the doorway. There, he turns to Tolys, bowing a little to bring their faces level.

“Thank you,” he says, voice soft and Elven accent giving the words a musical lilt.

“For what?”

“Being here.” He touches Tolys’s upper arm, letting his long fingers linger. “Letting me know you.”

“Of course.”

The fingers slowly trail up to his shoulder, sliding across the smooth green fabric until the tips touch his clavicle. Tolys reaches his own hand up and covers Eduard’s with it. The Elf rests their foreheads together for a moment that feels like a promise.

Just then, they both hear Erzsébet’s distinctive laugh, echoing merrily over the carved walkways. Both of them straighten to see her coming their way, her face bright and an intricate crown of golden leaves resting on her dark hair.

“My friends!” she says, and is hauling Tolys into a hug before he can even greet her, let alone think of bowing. “I’m so glad to see our secret has not put a strain on your friendship.”

There is an emphasis on friendship that Tolys doesn’t imagine for a second is the product of her accent.

“It couldn’t have, when my own secrets are similar, Your…”

“Just call me Erzsébet. Eduard was right, then? We will be equals before long.” She smiles. “And I’m certain my cousin will be glad to help you, should you so desire.”

“Erzsébet,” Eduard says, sounding long-suffering and not at all like a Crown Prince, which he is and Tolys will be soon enough. His cheeks are getting red. Tolys didn’t know Elves blushed, but finds that he would like to see it more often. It is mesmerizing.

“There you are,” come Nadzeya’s dry tones from the direction of Tolys’s temporary home. He hears the distinctive tread of Raivis’s bare feet approaching behind her nearly inaudible footsteps, and when they come into view, the Halfling bow slightly towards Erzsébet.

“Your Majesty.”

“I tried to tell him Erzsébet would be fine,” Nadzeya informs the Queen, and Erzsébet laughs again.

“Come, we have much to talk about. Much to plan.” She gestures all of them along. Eduard touches Tolys’s wrist. Raivis catches his gaze, quirks his eyebrows and grins.

Tolys smiles back and runs his fingers along the back of Eduard’s hand. It appears the journey was worth it.

#scarlettlillies #quaestiones #estliet #Phyripo writes things #whatever this is #Hetalia #aph estonia #aph lithuania

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freudensteins-monster · 4 years

Text

Avengers Assemble

I finished this fic I started around June 2017 after seeing THIS POST for the first time.

Also posted over on AO3.

Tony was the first to notice that something was up with Darcy, though he didn’t understand what it meant at the time. He’d wandered out of his lab at a little after three in the morning and registered a humanoid shape curled up on the couch in Lab 7. A closer inspection revealed a mess of brown hair spilling out from under a purple coat, and he just figured Darcy had decided to crash at the tower after a long night sciencing with Jane and wanted to avoid a commute cutting into time better spent asleep. Not something she’d ever done before (she usually crashed on the couch in Jane and Thor’s apartment a few floors down) but he wasn’t exactly in a position to comment on other people's life choices, so just left her to it. Though he did place a wake up call with JARVIS on her behalf so she had a chance to get cleaned up before the first scientists showed up in a few hours. Never let it be said that he wasn’t a benevolent overlord.

Clint was the first to notice that something was terribly amiss, though it took him until he finished his first pot of coffee to figure it out. To be fair to the archer, he had only just stumbled out of bed following a solid twelve hour post-mission nap; people in comas slept lighter. Regardless, Natasha was going to kick his ass for being so off his game if she found out. ...when she found out.

He stared into the empty glass carafe pondering the futility of existence and why his coffee tasted off. True, he was no connoisseur and would drink anything as long as it was hot and black, or even lukewarm and black, but there was something off about this particular pot of coffee, a nagging feeling in the back of his mind that insisted that some key flavour profile was missing…

“Donuts,” he mumbled groggily, wandering around the kitchen island in sweats and a grubby t-shirt, scouring the countertops as if a large white box of cinnamon-covered goodness could somehow be hiding in plain sight. “JARVIS,” he called out when his thorough search failed to yield any donuts.

“Yes, Agent Barton?”

“It’s Friday, right?”

“Friday the 12th to be precise.”

“Huh…”

“Is everything alright, Agent Barton? Have you lost time? Should I call for medical assistance?”

“No, nothing like that JARVIS. But, um, did Darcy call out sick today?”

“Miss Lewis arrived at the tower at 12:16am this morning, and has been working at her desk since 7:53am.”

“What? Why?” Clint demanded.

“She did not tell me, and I had no grounds on which to ask. Her security clearance allows her access to Doctor Foster’s laboratory 24hrs a day.”

“Right…” Clint mused. It wasn’t implausible that Darcy was working weird hours, and yet… “Was Foster in the labs with Darcy all night?”

“Doctor Foster returned to her suite at a very reasonable 9:26pm and returned to the laboratory floor at 8:04am.”

Clint’s brow crinkled in thought as he waited for the carafe to refill, considering all possible reasons for the change in Darcy’s routine but, call him a pessimist, none of them were good. He worked through his second pot of coffee while he showered and dressed, returning the empty carafe to the kitchen before seeking Darcy out.

When he reached the lab floor and saw Darcy sitting in front of her computer, her heavy-handed makeup reminding him uncomfortably of his mother. He tried to ignore the coil of anxiety in his belly, smiling as he rapped his knuckles on the doorframe.

“Morning Darcy-Lou.”

Darcy flinched at his overly cheerful greeting and the coil in his gut snapped from the tension.

“Hey Clint,” she replied shakily, keeping her eyes glued to her screen. “What brings you up here?”

“Well, it’s Friday and I couldn’t help but notice a distinct lack of baked goods in the kitchen,” he teased, studying her every move.

“I didn’t have time,” Darcy snapped.

“Whoa, it’s cool,” Clint put his hands up in surrender. “You don’t owe us donuts, it’s just that it’s a break in your routine and it makes my spy senses go all tingly. Everything alright?” he asked kindly, noting the way she refused to meet his gaze.

“I’m fine,” Darcy replied with an edge of forced cheerfulness. Clint fake-smiled back.

“Alright, well, I can’t stop thinking about donuts so I’m going to head down to the bakery on the corner and grab a box. You want me to bring you back anything?”

“No, thanks. I’m fine,” she repeated absently, fixing her gaze back on her screen.

“See you ‘round, Darcy-Lou,” Clint waved as he headed to the bank of elevators. His smile faded away as the doors closed and he asked JARVIS to take him to the nearest Security office.

Jane was the first to get the truth from Darcy, if you didn’t count Clint reading their lips off the security feed.

“Shit!” Darcy muttered and threw her phone down in disgust.

The sound broke Jane’s train of thought. She blinked for the first time in twenty minutes and registered the complete and utter absence of background noise.

“Darcy…”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not playing music,” Jane, she of three degrees, finally noticed at 11am.

“Um, no. I’ve got a bit of a headache.”

“Then why aren’t you playing your ‘Super Chill’ playlist? You always play music.”

“I guess I didn't feel like it.”

“Are you sick?”

Jane rushed over and placed a hand on Darcy's forehead so forcibly it gave her assistant whiplash. Darcy tried to squirm out of Jane’s grasp and when the astrophysicist’s hand brushed against her cheek she winced.

“Darcy!”

“I’m fine, Jane,” Darcy swore, turning her bruised face away.

“You’re not fine,” Jane replied, twisting Darcy’s office chair around until she had to face her. “What happened?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Darcy grumbled stubbornly.

Jane knelt down in front of her best friend, clasping her hands tightly.

“Please tell me what happened, Darcy. Let me help you.”

“You can’t help…” Darcy started, tearing up.

“Are you sure? What about Thor? Or me, Thor, and a puppy?”

That got a watery chuckle. “I wouldn’t say no to a puppy.” Jane stayed where she was, eyes growing cartoonishly large as she implored her friend to open up. Darcy relented with a sigh. “You know how my roommate practically moved her boyfriend in without running it past me first?”

“I vaguely recall you complaining about him for three days straight last month.”

“Yeah, well, it hadn’t been too bad. I’m hardly ever there and when I am they pretty much stay holed up in her bedroom, so it’s been whatever. But my roommate has been away for most of the week for some work conference and has left her boyfriend behind unsupervised.”

“What did he do?” Jane asked, trying to keep her tone even and not let her imagination wander into dark corners.

“First he was just obnoxious, taking over the living room, playing Call of Duty until four in the morning, leaving empty takeout containers everywhere. And then…” she sniffled.

“And then…”

“He started hitting on me. Just straight up eggplant emoji level of subtlety, you know. I said no, obviously. Told him to back off or I’d tell his girlfriend. That seemed to work; he went back to inconsiderate roommate mode. But I didn’t want to be alone with him any more than I had to be so I called up some girlfriends from college and we went out for drinks last night. It was Ladies Night at my favourite bar; half price margaritas. And maybe I had too many drinks for a work night...”

“Darcy,” Jane interjected. “What happened when you got home?”

“He was still up playing Call of Duty. The second he saw me stumbling towards the kitchen for a glass of water he started circling me like a vulture. He got handsy, tried to herd me towards the couch.”

“Please tell me you tased him,” Jane begged.

To her relief Darcy nodded. “And then I just ran. The next thing I knew I was on the train headed for Manhattan so I came back here. I crashed on the couch and JARVIS woke me up when it was time to start work.”

Jane processed Darcy’s story, but there was a detail missing. “How did you get that bruise on your face, Darce?”

“He... kinda slapped me.”

“Kinda?”

“Well, he was trying to grab me, and then he was flailing about from 50,000 volts to the chest, and I was still within arms reach so I caught a fist to the face. It wasn’t like he punched me on purpose or anything.”

“No, of course not. He only tried to force himself on you while you were drunk.”

“Yeah, that,” Darcy sniffled miserably.

“Did you tell your roommate what happened? Is she going to kick him out?”

Darcy laughed, short and cold. “I hadn’t had a chance to tell her, but he must have called her last night as soon as he stopped twitching. I had a text waiting for me when I woke up saying she wanted me gone by the time she got back tomorrow. Apparently in his version of events my drunk ass hit on him and got violent when he, honest and faithful boyfriend that he is, turned me down.” Darcy to swipe irritably at her wet cheeks and blow her nose. “So I’ve spent all morning trying to find a new place, and the last hour texting this asshole, trying to get him the fuck out of the apartment so I can go get my stuff, but he’s demanding a face to face. Says he’s sorry and wants to apologise, but more likely he just wants to make sure I’m not going to correct his story. … I can’t be alone with him, Jane,” she cried anew.

“And you won’t have to be,” Jane swore handing her another tissue. Whatever she was going to say next was interrupted by her name flashing in large, bright blue letters on a holographic whiteboard on the other side of the lab.

JANE

TAKE DARCY TO LUNCH

WE’LL HANDLE IT

- CLINT

Jane quickly sent a grateful smile to the nearest security camera before turning her attention back to Darcy.

“Hey, how about we forget about that asshole for a couple of hours. We’ll grab something to eat then come back here and figure out a plan of attack, okay? I’m not going to let you do this alone,” she promised, standing up and offering up a rare hug that Darcy was all too happy to accept.

“Thanks, Janie.”

They grabbed their bags and headed for the elevator bank arm in arm. “So, where do you want to go for lunch?” Darcy asked.

“How about Sadelles? I think today calls for matzo ball soup like bubbe used to make.”

“And bagels.”

“And Bloody Marys.”

“And a double cheeseburger,” Darcy sighed hungrily.

“Whatever you want,” Jane laughed as the doors to Elevator 1 closed behind them.

A few floors away the doors to Elevator 2 opened onto the communal Avengers floor and Clint stepped out into a room full of antsy superheroes. Tony was seated at the nearest table sucking down on some radioactive looking smoothie while Steve, Bucky, Sam, and Thor were standing at half-assed attention awaiting orders.

“Since when are you calling Assembles?” Steve queried casually, not at all paranoid that he was being kept out of the loop on something important.

“Yeah, and since when do we do mission briefings in the breakfast nook?” Tony asked.

“Darcy needs our help,” Clint announced, pausing long enough for everyone to get the wrong idea.

“Where is she?” Thor boomed. “Is Jane with her?”

“Who’s got her?” Bucky demanded, already unsheathing one of the innumerable knives on his person.

“Whoa! Everyone, stand down. Jane and Darcy are fine. They’ve gone to lunch.”

The silence was deafening.

“So… they need help paying the tab? Because I’m pretty sure I already do that.” Tony snarked.

“No, listen,” Clint tried to explain over five riled up superjerks. “Long story short: Darcy’s roommate’s out of town, her boyfriend stayed behind and he’s been making Darcy uncomfortable, to say the least. Last night Darcy came home drunk and he tried to take advantage of the situation. She tasered him and came here.”

“Shit,” Tony mumbled. “I was wondering why I found her crashed out on the lab couch at 3am. I just thought she had Jane had pulled an all nighter or something.”

“Is she okay?” Steve asked.

“She’s mostly rattled, a little bruised, and by the time she gets back from lunch I think she’s going to move onto being plain furious. She wants to get the hell out of that apartment but the guy’s refusing to leave, practically holding her stuff hostage until she agrees to talk to him.”

“Like hell she’s going back there,” Sam swore. “What’s the address?”

Clint smiled as the rest of the assembled Avengers quickly got on the same page. Tony rose from his seat, tapping away on his phone.

“JARVIS has called up a couple of cars for you and plugged Darcy’s address into the GPS. One of the maintenance guys should meet you down there with some moving boxes.”

“You’re not coming?”

“I’m going to attack this from a different angle,” he replied cryptically, leading the way to the elevators.

Half an hour later two large black SUVs pulled up out the front of an apartment building in Brooklyn and 60% of the Avengers current lineup got out. They ignored the curious stares and frantic fumbling for phones going on around them and headed up to Darcy’s apartment, arguing amongst themselves about the best approach. In the end Sam, declaring himself the most normal human and least well-known of the group took the lead, insisting the others stay out of sight while he tried the two rational adults approach, where one of the adults totally doesn’t want to kick the other adult’s ass. It was not his most believable performance.

“Hey man, I’m Sam,” he greeted gruffly when the door finally opened, his intimidating-outside-of-the-Avengers arms crossed over his impressive-outside-of-the-Avengers chest. “Darcy sent me to pick up her stuff.”

The door was slammed in his face and Clint shoved his way to the front of the line.

“C’mon asshole,” he called, banging on the door. “Let us grab Darcy’s things and we’ll get out of your hair.”

The asshole in question yanked the door open and, not that he knew it at that moment, cursed out a couple of Avengers. “If the bitch wants her stuff back she can damn well come and get it herself and stop sending wannabe gym rats to do her dirty work.”

“Gym rats?” Clint’s much-broken nose tried to wrinkle in confusion.

“Enough of these games,” Thor growled, pushing Sam, Clint, and the door out of the way.

“What the hell!” the asshole squealed as broken shards of the door and a 7ft tall Norse god came at him with avengence..

“You dare to tarnish Lady Darcy’s honour? To lay your unworthy hands upon her?!” he roared, stopping just short of grabbing him by the throat and pinning him against the wall. Humans were rather fragile, or so he was often reminded.

“What… what… who?” the asshole stuttered, his mind on the fasttrack to a psychotic break as the rest of the Avengers followed Thor into the apartment.

“You hurt Darcy, we hurt you,” Bucky translated, taking up sentry duty by the broken door in case the asshole tried to make a run for it.

Sam and Steve glared at the asshole on their way to Darcy’s bedroom (Clint had pointed it out, having been there once before when he’d been bribed into help Darcy move in almost a year ago) while Clint headed for the kitchen. Thor thought the best use of his time was to remain looming over the guy until he wet himself.

“Ooh! Cranberry Kitchenaid. Definitely Darcy’s. She wouldn’t shut up about this thing,” Clint mused to himself as he boxed it, and all novelty baking and cookware items he could find, up.

Thor soon got bored and wandered around the small living area. “Does this belong to Lady Darcy?” he enquired, lifting up a three seater couch like it weighed nothing.

“Don’t think so.”

Thor dropped it from three feet up and took no small amount of pleasure in the way the asshole flinched.

“What the hell…” he muttered to himself several times before finding his voice. “What the hell are you doing in my apartment?!”

“1. Not your apartment. 2. We told you: we’re here to get Darcy’s stuff, since you were being an asshole about it.”

“But… you’re the Avengers.”

“Yeah, and we’re here to grab Darcy’s stuff and put the fear of Norse gods into you. Keep up,” Clint replied, turning his attention to the contents of the refrigerator now that he had collected everything from the kitchen cupboards that seemed like it belonged to Darcy (shot glasses from a bar in New Mexico, a Culver U coffee mug, a collection rainbow-handled utensils…).

“But you’re the Avengers.”

“…did you seriously not know that Lewis was besties with Thor? Lewis. Darcy Lewis,” Clint clarified when he received only a blank, stunned stare in reply. “Jesus H Christ… You’ve seriously never even had a conversation with her, have you?” Clint spat, abandoning his hastily assembled sandwich in disgust only to pick it back and continue eating; it wasn’t the sandwich’s fault.

“What about this television?” Thor asked, ripping the thing right out of the wall.

After a pointed moment Bucky voted, “Leave it. Stark’ll buy her a better one.”

“Everything okay out here?” Sam asked, regarding Thor’s attempt to remount the TV into the recently made hole in the wall with feigned disinterest.

“All good.”

“You gonna make yourself useful, Barnes?” Sam griped, dragging a suitcase crammed full of Darcy’s wardrobe contents towards the door.

“I am being useful,” Bucky countered, pulling a whetstone from his tac suit and glaring at the asshole as he slowly dragged his favourite knife across it.

“Real helpful,” Sam muttered, heading back to the bedroom.

Clint finished off his sandwich and had a quick look around the shared bathroom. He nabbed a few of the products that looked expensive and/or smelled like Darcy, but everything else looked easily replaceable. He added the bottles to his kitchen box and called out to the rest of the team, “We done yet?”

“Almost,” Steve called back, tossing another huge suitcase from the depths of the bedroom to Thor who caught it easily. He followed Sam out, carrying two boxes to Sam’s three, who was struggling under the weight of Darcy’s innumerable books and assorted knickknacks but refused to admit within earshot of Bucky that he needed help. Steve passed off his boxes to Bucky and indicated that the rest of the team should head out. Bucky grabbed the second suitcase and tucked it under his metal arm, beaming obnoxiously at Sam as he passed him in the hallway.

Steve meanwhile made his way over to where the asshole was still cowering against the wall. “I know it goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway: you contact Darcy again, you so much as breathe in her direction, I will have my friend Carol take you into outer space, except she doesn’t use a spaceship, and we see how long it takes for your head to explode. ...Got it?”

“Captain America is threatening me?”

Steve gave the asshole his patented USO smile, “Yeah, but no one would ever believe you.”

The asshole could only nod mutely as Steve Rogers, Captain fucking America, exited the apartment and closed what was left of the door behind him. Two seconds later his cell phone rang. He was still in shock and couldn’t remember answering it, but the next thing he knew his phone was on speaker and someone was addressing him.

“Is this the asshole currently trembling in Apartment 4C.”

“Uhhh…” the asshole’s brain flatlined as the man on the other end of the phone rattled off information that could only have been obtained through a very thorough background check.

“... the asshole whose Social Security Number is 498619842? The asshole who got busted for pot possession in 2015 and 2017? The guy who spent the night of his 15th birthday buying several porn subscriptions on his mother's credit card then let her think that some stranger had stolen it and racked up the charges?”

A very, very thorough background check.

“How…”

“This is Tony Stark. Just a courtesy call to let you know that I now own the apartment you’re currently squatting in. Actually, I own the whole building. And my people have already been in contact with your girlfriend and advised her of a little clause that I’ve added to the lease: if she wants to resign next month, you are not allowed to live with her - and I will know if she violates the terms of her lease. So that’ll be a fun conversation for you. But I’m sure you’ll be fine. I mean, what woman in her right mind would choose a cheap, rent controlled, fully renovated apartment in New York City over a cheating boyfriend slash burgeoning rapist?”

The call disconnected around the same time the asshole’s legs gave out and he became a puddle of terrified goo on the floor.

Darcy returned to the tower after an epic two hour lunch date with Jane feeling much better about the last twelve and a bit hours, and was ready to hand the asshole his ass. But with Jane coming back to the apartment with her after work, distracting him with the kind of vitriol she usually reserved for old white men who were tightfisted with university grant money, Darcy was confident she should be able to get in and out without too many hassles (or assault charges).

“82nd floor, if you please JARVIS,” Darcy instructed as they stepped into the elevator.

“If you’ll indulge me, Miss Lewis, I’ve been instructed to take you to the 54th floor.”

“That’s one of the residential floors,” Jane realised. “Isn’t that floor still under construction?”

Before JARVIS could answer the elevator doors opened to an impatient Tony Stark.

“Minions, follow me.”

“What’s going on, Tony?” Darcy demanded as her boss’s boss led them through a bare hallway painted base coat white.

“Heard you were in need of a place to crash, so I thought I’d give you an apartment.”

Before either of them could determine how much Tony knew, and how he knew it, he stopped in front of a seemingly random door and threw it open.

“Surprise!!”

“What the fuck!” Darcy shouted, not that she could hear herself over the carousing of half the Avengers line up. “What the fuck?” she repeated when the noise died down.

“Well, Clint here gave us a quick rundown of what happened - we’re glad you’re alright, by the way.”

“But how did you know?”

“Donuts,” Clint teased, earning confusing glances from everyone not in on the joke. “Well, donuts and security cameras.”

“Clint sent me a message on one of Tony’s hi tech whiteboards while I was talking to you,” Jane admitted. “He told me to take you to lunch but I had no idea they were going to do this.”

“But what is all this?”

“This is your stuff,” Clint grinned doing his best Vanna White at the small collection of boxes and suitcases.”

“We paid the scoundrel a visit he won’t soon forget and liberated your belongings so you needn’t see him again.”

“We pretty much cleaned out your bedroom, but left the furniture. Sam said it was all just IKEA stuff so it probably didn’t hold much sentimental value,” Steve explained.

“It didn’t,” Darcy assured him, almost moved to tears by their actions.

“So, I know this place looks pretty bleak right now, but I promise it’s liveable - water and power have been hooked up, and I’ve got a basic bed being delivered in the next hour or so you don’t have to sleep on the floor. And Pepper will be in touch sometime this afternoon to set up a meeting with her interior designer so you can Darcy it up however you like on my dime. Aaaand you look like you’re going to hug me so I’m going to leave now.”

Darcy laughed at Tony’s retreating back before redirecting her attention and affection on the rest of her personal heroes. “Thank you guys so much. I can’t even tell you how much this means to me.”

“You’re more than welcome, Darcy-Lou,” Clint replied, going in for a hug. He squeezed her tightly, pressing a kiss to her forehead before making way for the next guy in line.

“I’m glad you’re alright, Darcy. If we left anything important behind just let me know. I’d be happy to pay him another visit.”

“I’m sure you would, Cap. Thank you.”

Bucky shuffled forward. “Darcy.”

“Bucky.”

“We didn’t much like the idea of living you down here by yourself, so to make you feel a bit safer at night, or maybe not,” he mumbled, hiding behind his hair. “I’m gonna move down into the room across the hall. At least until they finish up on this floor and start getting other people in here.”

Darcy’s arms were thrown around his neck before he could finish.

“Thank you.”

Hug her back, you idiot, Sam mouthed, choking on his laughter when Bucky awkwardly patted her on the back. He pushed Bucky out of the way and showed him what a hug was supposed to look like. “And if you want to hit the clubs and you want some added security…” he proposed with a little shimmy that pulled a laugh from Darcy and Steve (Bucky just rolled his eyes).

“I know who to call.”

“We’ll leave you to it - and see you at dinner, right?” Sam called back as the three musketeers headed for the elevators.

“Absolutely!”

And then it was just Thor and Jane, both of them regarding her with kind smiles and sad eyes.

“I am sorry he harmed you, Darcy. One word from you and I will throw him in the deepest, darkest cell on Asgard until he rots.”

“Thanks big guy. But you’ve done more than enough.”

“So… what now?” Jane asked, reaching for Thor’s hand. “Did you want to come back down to the labs until your bed gets here?”

“I think I’ll check out my new digs for a bit. Maybe rummage through the boxes and see what the guys managed to grab for me and make a list of what I need to replace....”

“Are you sure you’re going to be alright?”

“I’m going to be fine, Janey,” Darcy replied, smiling to herself when it occurred to her just how true those words were. She was going to be fine.

[Post Credit Scene]

As it turned out, Tony’s idea of a “basic” bed was a king sized mattress and base - which none of Darcy’s current bedding fit.

Pepper and her favourite interior designer had been and gone, dinner was another hour away, and Darcy was doing her best to make up her new bed regardless of her ill fitting sheets, figuring if worse came to worst she’d just roll herself up like a burrito, when there was a knock at her new front door.

“Nat! When did you get in?”

“About two hours ago,” she replied, pushing past Darcy with a moving box balanced on her hip. “Clint told me what happened.”

“Oh no,” Darcy sighed, eying the box warily. “What did you do? Is he…you know...”

“Still breathing? Still in possession of all his limbs and both his testicles?”

“Yeah, those things.”

“Reluctantly. You could have called me,” she added quietly.

“You were on a mission,” Darcy shrugged. “And I kind of wanted to pretend it didn’t happen.”

“Well, thank goodness Clint knows when to leave well alone and when to go at a problem like a dog with a bone.”

“You taught him well,” Darcy teased, which earned a small snort of amusement from the Black Widow. “Now, not to sound like Brad Pitt but what’s in the box?”

Natasha did a little drumroll on the lid of the box before pulling back the flaps. “I have… every roll of toilet paper in the apartment and half a dozen shoelaces - one from every pair of shoes he owns.”

“Is that all? Not that it’s not amazing,” she giggled. “But it seems kinda… small potatoes for a talented spysassin like yourself.”

“I may have also added a minced ghost pepper to his aftershave. And infected all of his devices with this special little virus that will crash his games just before he reaches a save point.”

“Oh my god, that’s devious! I love it!”

“You’re welcome,” she smirked. “And since that only took me like fifteen minutes after the world's shortest debriefing I had time to stop off on the way back for some of your favourite rotgut in case you were interested in a nightcap,” she announced, pulling a bottle of tequila from the box.

“Jose Cuervo isn’t not rotgut… But I’m kinda off the tequila at the moment,” Darcy admitted quietly.

“Well, luckily for you, I also picked up a bottle of my favourite rotgut,” she smiled, presenting Darcy with a bottle of unpronounceable, high proof vodka.

Darcy laughed and reached for the tacky shot glasses Clint had rescued from her old apartment and let Natasha do the honors.

“Hey, do you have any missions on the horizon?” Darcy spluttered after the first shot.

“Nothing planned, why?”

“Pepper’s interior designer reckons she can have my apartment fully painted and furnished by this time next week. I was thinking I might host a little family dinner. Sort of a housewarming slash thanks for having my back party? I’ll bake that coffee chocolate cake Clint loves and put in orders with like, four of the team's favourite takeout places...”

“I’m in. As long as I get to be on cocktails,” Nat said as she poured another round.

Darcy clinked their glasses together with a smile. “Deal.”

#avengers assemble #darcy lewis and the avengers #freudensteins-fics #darcy lewis #jane foster #clint barton #tony stark #thor #steve rogers #bucky barnes #sam wilson #natasha romanoff #mcu timeline? what mcu timeline?#mostly pre-ultron #(bruce is post-ultron)#bucky is a little more ca:cw #and i mention carol #so.... *shrug*

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shadowlink06 · 4 years

Text

Heart of the King / Body and Soul Deleted Scenes

I've mentioned before that the script for WiR has changed significantly as I published each chapter. I just want to highlight some events that did happen at this point in the story that were in original script to give you an idea how far the story has flown out of my hands to the point where it is hardly recognizable.

Noctis wasn't supposed to make any type of appearance until the 10 year mark and he had absorbed the crystal's power. Originally he was supposed to be seen in God's Blight only.

Gladio and Prompto were supposed to visit Ignis more within the three month span however they still were not aware of Emus/Ardyn

Ignis and Ardyn were supposed to spend about a year or two together before anyone realized anything was wrong. Talcott was supposed to be the original person that noticed the changes and reported it to Cid.

Gladio and Prompto were supposed to travel to Hammerhead after Ignis's initial visit with them.

Prompto was supposed to pick up on Ardyn's presence in Ignis's hotel room by seeing the restraints and bloodstains on the sheets.

Prompto and Gladio were supposed to both confront Ardyn after the horde had attacked Galdin Quay after Ignis became infected. Gladio was supposed to be the one severely injured by Ardyn.

Gladio was supposed to find Ignis after Ardyn kidnapped him.

Ignis was not supposed to be "broken" by Ardyn until he was kidnapped nor was Ardyn supposed to fall in love with Ignis until this point.

Leviathan was supposed to be the only Astral that would have been attached to Ignis.

Cor, Aranea, Ifrit, Shiva, Titan, and Ramuh weren't supposed to have appearances in Body and Soul - only mentions.

And just for fun, here is some dialogue/scenes that I had to delete/omit/rewrite:

Chapter 12:

“You… were never going to kill him.” Ignis whispered.

“So… you figured that out.” He had never really thought of the idea of transferring his own memories to someone else. But there was no other way to explain why Ignis would suddenly come to that realization on his own.

“I am… I was the true King of Insomnia before my brother took that title from me. The King you try so desperately to protect, the empire that he built upon should have been mine.” There was a pause as he watched Ignis take in his words. “So now that you know that truth… is your allegiance with the King of Insomnia or towards Noctis?”

The Usurper… his vision had called Ardyn. The one that wanted the throne… the way that it was framed, Ardyn indeed was the one looking to spill the royal blood. Yet he had no way of knowing the truth of why the rage was there. The twisted history of Somnus and Ardyn… The one that had been in the wrong and the one that had been wronged was reversed. Even with his extensive knowledge never had he heard such a tale before.

“You know I don’t lie… is that why you can’t answer me?”

All this time…. Ignis had thought that he had been protecting Noctis. Every time Ardyn had taken him was all in the service of his king but now he realized why Ardyn had spent time with the Kingsglaive and why he had left the crystal alone. He had been protecting Noctis all this time. .

“I told you a long time ago, your sacrifice to protect Noctis was meaningless.”

“...Yet you toyed with me. Used me.”

“Indeed I did.” And Ardyn didn’t seem to be apologetic when it was framed that way. “Is that not what monsters do?”

Ignis’s heart sank hearing those words.The man was going to keep him here. Unconsciously he should have known that Ardyn would have taken an extreme measure. He knew the man’s secret now and he was sure that the Usurper wanted him to admit his feelings towards him. “...Ardyn, don’t do this.”

“You leave me no choice.”

Yet you gave me no choice either, Ignis thought. His clothing was torn away from him dreading what was going to happen to him. Even when his legs were lifted on the man’s shoulders, he felt numb. Unconsciously he was already relaxing his muscles for the intrusion. No matter how many times this had been done, it always felt as though he was losing a part of himself. The retainer felt something warm sliding down his cheeks as his body was worked up to a rhythm.

his body kept recoiling with each thrust into him. He was crying, he supposed. It was impossible to know when he started. He couldn’t tell if it had come from him or Ardyn and he was afraid to ask or even touch his face to prevent them from falling. He felt like he was going to drown and perhaps that was the best thing for him as the tempest of emotions was tearing him apart. He thought that he heard someone sobbing but It didn’t sound like his own voice. It must have been a dream...

Chapter 2:

By now, Ardyn had found his own pleasure with visiting Ignis. He was sure that the man would still happily slit his throat during his sleep if he could get away with it. The retainer hadn’t tried though. Maybe he thought it better to let Ardyn take what he wanted to go about his day. The Usurper never made a habit of visiting at a certain time, and even forced himself to spend days away to at least give the illusion that Ignis was simply a secondary source of entertainment.

The only ones that saw “Emus” regular were the staff that were in charge of the hotel but considering that Ardyn rarely spent more than a few hours there, he hoped that it was more in the realm of delivering official messages on behalf of the Kingsglaives. When Prompto or Gladio dropped by, he left Ignis alone with them. Given that nothing had ever happened after their visits Ignis also seemed to not say anything to either of his friends about what was really going on. And through this balancing act Ardyn ate daemons all to keep Noctis safe as the world crumbled to pieces around them.

But he had gotten to know Ignis on a far deeper level than he had meant. First it was exploring every inch of his body to incite his lust. There was a certain delight the chancellor felt when he could make the boy hard with even the faintest touches or draw out a moan that obviously was meant to be stifled. Ardyn found all Ignis’s weaknesses. Despite the protests, he had noticed the man started to have fewer outbursts and fits of rage. Every so often they would emerge, likely due to his own guilt with what was going on. After Ignis was wrestled out of his clothing and he was able to make the retainer moan that defiant streak dampened, lost in the haze of desire. He hadn’t tortured the retainer in the literal sense, but Ardyn had trained his body and it catered to only his touch.

Eventually Ardyn had stopped trying to get a rise out of Ignis without bringing up his useless loyalty to Noctis, the fact he kept his mouth shut about their sordid affair from his own friends, and even the issues plaguing Eos. They were all so insignificant since these humans were bound to die in one fashion or another. The only thing that was a ritual even from the beginning was just a string of words he always asked before he took Ignis.

“Do you surrender?”

And he was always meant with either a firm no or no response at all. Before, he had done it purely as a means to force Ignis to admit that he was weak, seeing him break. It was the last test knowing that there would be no excuse for his complicity if anyone ever discovered what they were doing together. So he always asked, just to see.

Yet Ignis had not crossed that line. He had gotten the retainer to give him handjobs, blowjobs, tied him up, put a leash on him, any act of sexual depravity that he could do to drag the man deeper in his despair yet that singular issue had never changed.

Chapter 13:

“There is no reason to believe she would lie about something like this.”

“If she isn’t… that means that Ardyn has been with Ignis for [insert time lapse here]. He had to have known right?”

“Ardyn can cast pretty convincing illusion spells though… you’ve experienced them yourself with Noct right?”

“Yeah… but if they fought… Ignis had to have known the ruse right?”

That did bother Gladio. If Ignis was under duress, surely the retainer could have said something to either of them, yet he had not. “It’s hard to say.”

“We have to find him… I don’t like this.”

“I’m going to alert the Hunters and the Kingsglaive.” Hell, maybe the Crownsguard needed to come in on this as well. Ignis may have been only one person in the grand scheme of the world, but given what Ardyn was capable of doing he’d never be able to sleep at night if he didn’t do everything in his power to get him back.

Chapter 14:

Ignis had tried running away just once. He had gotten far enough to attract the attention of a horde of daemons before Ardyn found him on the verge of collapse. The retainer had spent so much time trying to keep from being killed it was easy for Ardyn to overpower him and drag him back to the makeshift room. That night, the Usurper had been exceptionally rough, though he never chastised Ignis’s behavior or asked for an explanation. Instead, he opted for the safer option of binding the man. Every time Ardyn went out to feed or had to leave him, he was tied to the posts of the bed and gagged. When Ardyn returned, only then was Ignis free to move around, forced into sex, fed and cleaned up and the cycle repeated until the retainer passed out.

Ignis couldn’t bring himself to fight back. Several times he had pleaded for Ardyn to release him but every time he was only greeted with the phrase to say those three words to him. Something that was of course refused which only spurred the cycle of abuse to continue. He had dimly hoped that someone would have come for him by now but realistically no one could take the Usurper… no one but Noctis. Besides, they probably thought that he died from the starscourge. Without Luna there was no cure and his body had been declining rapidly. And no one knew what Ardyn was capable of, no one except him now.

He had only hoped the more that he refused to give the demon what he wanted Arydn would grow bored with him. That was far from the case. Although their conversations were always short, there was always something new that he had learned about the Usurper which only added to the complexity. Each bit of information made him see Ardyn differently and as much as he wanted to continue to condemn him, he was having trouble keeping the rage he had harbored for so long towards the man.

“...You will never break will you?”

Ignis paused as he heard that. “You want me to?”

“I suppose I was hoping that.”

“Even if it was a lie?”

“Especially if it was a lie.”

That admission had the retainer look in his general direction. “I can’t… you know I can’t.”

“Because you are afraid of the truth?”

“I’ve spoken the truth to you.”

“You have, but it is a partial one.”

“Why make me utter those words?”

There was a long silence as he thought about it. “In the end… for the sake of my pride.”

“And I won’t abandon him for my own.”

“Such a masochist you are Ignis.” Ardyn’s armiger appeared before him pulling out the dagger among the ring of weapons. With one fluid motion he straddled the retainer’s legs looming over him. “You know I could kill you without a second thought…” And yet, Ardyn didn’t want to. This damned human had to have been the most perplexing yet frustrating man he’d ever spent so much time with. Killing him now would have been meaningless. He felt the man relax under him even with the knife to his throat. All of his threats now fell on deaf ears, he couldn’t do it.

“I know you can. But even so… threatening me is meaningless.”

Ardyn couldn’t believe he had fallen into his own trap. In the quest to break this man, he had committed himself to having an attachment outside the realm of mere whimsical desire. He knew he had experienced it before with someone else but he couldn’t recall that moment in time. She had blonde hair though, perhaps a touch lighter than Ignis’s, more wavy and certainly longer. The tip of the blade roamed up and traced it over to the man’s chin which he forced up. “And why is that?”

“I cannot love you.”

“I will not let you erase me so easily.”

“I am not trying to.”

“Yet you will not acknowledge me.”

“I do… I am.” Ignis whispered. He was far too exhausted to lie to Ardyn. As much as he was able to move around, he was suffocating under the weight of his prison and the painful truths that he had come to know. “You are always in my thoughts.”

“Do you swear it?”

“...Yes.”

There are way more instances of scenes/settings being changed around post-script but I have either forgotten or they were already deleted off the document before I thought to save it. So if you are wondering why my brain needs a break well... this is part of the reason. As far as scene deletions, I’m sure well over 10k words has been dropped from the skeleton outline I had so that is part of the reason I’m going to just gut Gods Blight and start from scratch to avoid mass chunks of deletions like this.

#deleted scene #deleted dialogue #world in ruins #heart of the king #body and soul

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villainever · 5 years

Text

"I See You Got What You Wanted": Niko & Villanelle's Relationship + What Gemma's Death Means for Villaneve

i think it’s fairly safe to say that gemma’s death in 2x07 has been one of the most controversial of villanelle’s murders. in this mini-essay, i want to look at the eve-niko-villanelle-gemma dynamic, why villanelle might’ve killed gemma, what that means for the show’s plot, and for villanelle/eve. although in my last post i talked about how villanelle and eve DON’T have an “i / it” relationship, villanelle certainly does position most other people in the “it” category. eve is an exception, not the rule – unless someone really captures villanelle’s attention, she doesn’t really bother to contextualise them as more than an object, or in gemma’s case, a tool.

villanelle is aware of gemma before eve is, and meets her minutes after, as one of her many characters – one specifically designed for interacting with gemma. remember, this is 2x03, and even though raymond has told villanelle that eve isn’t interested in her anymore, she doesn’t believe him yet, because a) she doesn’t view raymond as a reliable source, and b) eve came to julian’s house when villanelle called her, even though they ultimately missed each other. at this point, villanelle is happy with her and eve’s progress, and understands that they’re more connected than they’ve ever been (“she [stabbed me] to show me how much she cares about me” / “sometimes when you love someone, you will do crazy things”). but one obstacle remains between her and eve: niko.

i believe her actions at this juncture reflect how seriously villanelle takes her relationship with eve, and its potential future. because the obvious, easy answer to someone like villanelle would be, “kill niko”. it’s fast and efficient and neatly removes him from the equation. BUT. villanelle has learned from killing anna’s husband that people don’t just bounce back from having a partner murdered, even if they were already having an affair with you. so villanelle takes killing niko completely off the table; she doesn’t want eve to hate her, to resent her even years later, like anna did. notably, though, her first strategy is NOT to tell him about the stabbing, and to try and make him hate/distrust eve. she tries the carrot, not the stick.

“squirt your perfume in his room so it always smells like you. flatter him. make him doubt his wife.” not only is this transparently from villanelle’s playbook (lmao), it’s an attempt to give gemma a viable plan to solve everyone’s problem: gemma seduces niko > niko leaves eve > eve is single > villanelle and eve rail each other into the next century (i can only assume this is how villanelle’s brain works lol). gemma gets niko, and presumably both are happy and far away. and most importantly, villanelle gets eve for keeps. i think this is probably the max of empathy we can expect from villanelle when it comes to two people she literally couldn’t care less about except for their roles in eve’s life. however, villanelle’s massively impatient. her idea doesn’t work instantly, probably because she’s overestimated niko’s willingness to abandon a long-term relationship for new possibilities and chemistry – and who can blame her, seeing as she’s making her calculations based on eve’s readiness to do the same when villanelle comes into the picture. anyway, villanelle isn’t getting instant results, and then the game changes: eve doesn’t come to amsterdam. villanelle’s suddenly freaking out, because god, what if eve’s not into her anymore, when villanelle still so crazy about her?

so after meeting up with eve in 2x05 – which confirms yet again that this thing between them isn’t something villanelle can bear to lose – she shifts it up a gear, and tells niko that eve stabbed her. it’s the pincer approach: on one side, there’s gemma, looking sweet and simple, and on the other, eve, appearing increasingly grey and complex. obviously, that’s a very easy choice for villanelle, and she’s hoping it is for niko too, only in the opposite direction. everything that makes villanelle like eve more, makes niko like her less.

then niko and eve hook up in 2x06. villanelle probably kicks over every trash can along the street and taps on all windows creepily to scare people until she feels better. after this, she’s a bit petty with eve until eve reveals that niko left. then it’s all genuine effort at AA, and “maybe eve’s lonely, i should text her”, because hey, the window is open, and impatience cuts both ways. she’s not going to lose the opportunity.

by 2x07, things are going well between villanelle and eve, but villanelle wants reassurance, and insurance. she’s tying up loose ends – getting the recipe, making sure gemma and niko are riding off into the sunset and leaving her and eve alone. side note: while villanelle tells niko that she wants the shepherd’s pie recipe because “eve likes it”, i think it’s also because to villanelle (who loves food) it’s a significant piece of the memory of her first proper meeting with eve in 1x05. she might be hoping it reminds eve of this night too, but even if it doesn’t, villanelle likes it, and it has all-round positive associations for her.

anyway. villanelle asks niko if he loves gemma – no, he doesn’t. he loves eve. “of course i do, she’s my wife”. in this scene, after he says that line, villanelle’s eyes get shiny, like they did in amsterdam, almost like she’s about to cry. ive tried to grab it in the screenshot, but it’s hard when it’s not a gif.

here’s the thing. i don’t think villanelle would’ve killed gemma if she’d waited until after rome to have this confrontation. why? because in rome, it’s pretty clear that even if niko’s not over eve, eve is pretty much over him. when niko leaves, eve says, “don’t leave me alone!” crucially, this line, this FEAR, isn’t really about him at all. eve’s relationship with villanelle is so volatile that she hasn’t made the leap yet, unsure of the landing. niko is her safety net. we’ve been shown all season that eve’s basically bored with him, and has been since pre-villanelle (“you’ve missed [teacher’s night] for three years”), but she keeps him around so that she has someone. at this point, eve isn’t certain whether she has other people in her life, so she doesn’t want to lose him.

EXCEPT. seeing him with gemma at her house kind of puts him in a new light, and eve’s abruptly faced with exactly how normal he is, and how different they are. earlier that day, she and villanelle were running an undercover op, and villanelle killed someone in broad daylight (at least a lil to impress eve), but here niko is, hanging out with someone who collects music boxes, and is painfully ordinary by contrast. it’s enough to get eve to walk away, but her decision is affirmed in rome. hugo’s more than happy to sleep with her, and far more significantly, villanelle is too. eve’s suddenly available, but villanelle hasn’t lost interest now that the chase is effectively over (they’re hardly enigmas in different countries anymore; they work together and text and have conversations about jealousy). with niko gone, eve ISN’T alone. and i think eve will find that life without a safety net is even more of an adrenaline rush, plus now there’s nobody to slow her down or question her (questionable) decision-making. she’s not thinking about niko AT ALL, and he’s barely crossed her mind this season anyway. but rewind to pre-rome, and villanelle sees an eve/niko reunion as a possibility. now, i really doubt niko would’ve told villanelle he still loved eve if he’d realised it was the wrong answer. in fact, i believe he thinks it is the right answer for villanelle, because he fundamentally misunderstands villaneve’s relationship.

he still thinks it’s a cat-and-mouse, power-trip thing. in season 1, he accuses eve of getting off on being the only one who can predict villanelle (not landing on the fact that it’s villanelle herself eve likes, not just the rush of a high-stakes mission), but even with villanelle saying, “we’re more than friends”, his “what are you talking about?” is actually in response to her telling him she’s forgiven eve – he’s asking, “forgiven her for what?”. niko doesn’t get that villanelle and eve are inherently romantic, albeit in an unconventional (and twisted) way. he does infer that villanelle cares for eve in some way, so i think he incorrectly adds it up, and comes to the conclusion that in 2x07, villanelle’s come to see him and gemma because she’s mad at him for leaving eve, and has come for revenge on eve’s behalf. but she’s not there for revenge, she’s there for closure. and he turns around and does the exact opposite of what she wants. so she kills gemma.

even though many of us were expecting a recurring character death this season (i saw some speculation around hugo, particularly), gemma’s death wasn’t exactly predictable. while villanelle killing people is very par for the course with this show, and killing eve does an excellent job of using close narration to warp viewer’s morality while they watch (another essay in that point), gemma evoked a lot more of an emotional response than villanelle’s typical marks. i think this is for a few reasons. firstly, even though she was far from the show’s coolest or most interesting character, gemma was nice and considerate; she tried to shoot her shot, but she never pushed niko to cheat on eve, and when she met eve, she was kind (and friendly to villanelle too when she was “kim”). secondly, she was really normal – most of killing eve’s cast of characters feel exceptional, almost fantastical in the best way, but gemma was someone you could meet in real life. lastly, gemma didn’t opt-in to any of this; unlike bill, nobody warned her of the risks, and her life was completely extrinsic to the main plot – from her perspective, she basically got killed completely out of nowhere. villanelle won’t kill people eve cares about anymore. she killed bill, when their relationship was nascient, but in 1x05, villanelle telling eve “he was slowing you down” is what prompts eve to reach for the knife that first time before villanelle pins her to the fridge. but eve dislikes gemma, so villanelle decides this is unlikely to have negative repercussions for her.

is she intending to frame niko for murder to eliminate him permanently without killing him? maybe. she did use materials she found on-site (i.e. crime of passion). but villanelle has a certain flair for narrative, and i think if she was trying to do that, she probably would’ve staged some kind of scene to make niko seem more guilty (e.g. a domestic dispute). that said, the murder did have less of her usual drama, so she might be trying to keep it realistic for niko to have done. if yes, this was a bit risky, because it might pull niko into the MI5 investigation, and put him in proximity to eve. what i think is most likely is that, just as villanelle has positive associations with niko’s shepherd’s pie, she’s trying to give niko a negative association with eve. trying to ensure that every time he looks at her, he sees gemma dying for no real reason, sees the harsh reality of the path she’s chosen, and can never be truly close to her again. if it’s niko’s choice to stay away from eve, then eve will be less mad at villanelle – she might be more cross if he got falsely imprisoned. this way, she’ll see him as someone who can’t hack it, just as she already does. and he’ll see how she keeps going on, relatively untroubled, and his image of her as “the best person [he] knows” will be irreparably shattered. so will eve be mad about gemma? im not even sure she’ll find out about it this season. it seems like there’s a lot going on in rome next episode; it might not even come up. honestly, given eve’s current development, i’d guess the consequences will be eve acting huffy at villanelle for a few days in a way that villanelle will weather in relatively good spirits, knowing that once it’s passed, they’re in the clear. eve doesn’t care about gemma, maybe even dislikes her, and if she was able to move past bill’s death, then this is unlikely to bother her that much. with eve, we are able to more and more often see these “i / it” relationships shine through, and to eve as well as villanelle, i think gemma is an “it”. carolyn will probably make this mess go away, to keep her own plans sailing smoothly.

gemma’s murder also has the symbolic value of the death of normality, specifically eve’s normality, which she’s been drifting further and further from over the whole show, but particularly this season. gemma’s body literally has “fragile” written on the murder weapon: eve’s ordinary existence was always fragile, because eve didn’t fit. she’s a sociopath, and her life was a performance that was suffocating her, just as gemma suffocates. personally, i liked gemma, and was quite sad that she died. while i was shocked when it happened, the longer i’ve had to reflect, the less i feel that surprise. part of what makes killing eve fresh is that it doesn’t pull punches, and it’s not interested in trying to make villanelle more human, it’s interested in seeing how far it can take her and still have us love her. given the fates of bill, frank and nadia (she even shot konstantin), this was hardly out of the left field for her – the most notable deviation is that gemma’s death was her last resort, not her first idea. just as eve is changing, villanelle is adapting too. ive mentioned a few times that they’re meeting in the middle, and this is another step towards that. now, for anyone who actually made it through that slog, i have one more point. villanelle is really hung up on niko’s moustache, and i think that’s a great choice from the writers’ room, to have the thing she uses to identify him as being something explicitly masculine. to villanelle, niko is just The Man. The Husband. The “i / it” relationship here is between villanelle and a moustache.

this mini-essay is for @enter-the-mind-of-a-degenerate , who asked in the comments of the last one. if anyone else has any requests, inbox me or reply to this post :D also any and all of your comments give me life, and i have so much fun reading them/the messages you guys send me.

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