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imagines-for-the-fangirls-soul · 5 months ago

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But Daddy I Love Him - Jacaerys Velaryon

A/N: Oh hi! First of all, thanks for all the love on my last Jace fic. I'm sorry it's taken so long to post my next, I've had a crazy couple of weeks, but I wanted to make to get something out before this week's episode. I can't believe there's just 3 eps left of the season! I am hoping to get my Jace chapter fic out before then, so I have put most of my focus there. Anyways, I hope you enjoy!!

TS Prompt #8: But Daddy I Love Him

Pairing: Jacaerys Velaryon x Lannister!Reader Word Count: 5.3k Synopsis: Jace and the reader fall in love, much to the displeasure of the reader's father.

Warnings: smut

Jacaerys Velaryon is beautiful.

It is tourney day in King's Landing, and your eyes are stuck to him as he makes his way out into the arena. Around you, there are scattered conversations whispered not low enough, about how the prince has matured in the last year, how handsome he has become.

He has not yet put his helmet on. This leaves his hair out, curls whipping around him in the gentle breeze. He flicks his hair back and there is a chorus of awes around you. You smirk at the reaction.

"The arrogance," your father, Jason Lannister, mutters from your side. You barely spare him a glance, not wanting to remove your eyes from Jacaerys.

"What do you mean?" you ask.

"He's showing off," your father says, disgust in his voice.

"It is a tourney," you say, "Isn't that the point?" He doesn't respond, just continues to monitor the arena space.

Jacaerys mounts his horse and with bated breath, you watch as he accepts the lance from the Master of Revels. His opponent is a knight you haven't met yet, a Ser Estermont. He has done well in the tourney so far, though, which makes you nervous.

As both men prepare to make their joust, you lean forward in your seat, needing to see as closely as possible, what is about to happen.

Unlike the matches before, this one is over in one round. Jacaerys aims his lance to the perfect angle, and expertly knocks over the knight from Greenstone.

Applause erupts from the viewing gallery, and you nearly stand up and cheer, you are so relieved about his win. Jacaerys rides around the stands and stops in front of the gallery you sit in. He lifts off his helmet and smiles in a way that makes your heart race.

"Lady Y/N," he says, and you think you hear discontented sighs from behind you. "Might I request your favor, that I may excel through the rest of this tournament?" You smile and reach for your wreath of flowers. For one moment, your father grips your wrist, as if he means to keep you from going. But it does not last long. No matter what your father may think of Jacaerys, he is still the prince, and future heir to the the throne. To deny him would mean scandal.

As you approach the railing, you try to fight off the grin at seeing him. Jacaerys extends his lance so that you may drop the wreath onto it easily.

"Thank you, My Lady," he says, eyes locked onto yours.

"Good luck, My Prince."

He rides off into the arena, garnering more applause from the stands, as you return to your seat. There are jealous eyes upon you. Even your father looks angry. But you pay them no mind. There will be more rounds, and Jacaerys is sure to succeed time and again, which will have him request the favor of more ladies.

Smiling as you sit down, you think of the girls who will bestow upon him their own wreaths. You might even feel bad for them, for surely, they will assume that his attention means he might court them. But you know that his affections lie only with you.

To you, the prince was just Jace, and you had loved him since you were a girl. Three months ago, he had declared his love for you, too, and ever since, the two of you had been hiding your love, waiting for the right moment to proclaim your intentions.

"He did quite well," you say to your father, making another effort to talk up Jacaerys to him.

"Ser Estermont was an easy opponent," your father says, disinterest and dismissal reflected in his tone.

Once the tournament is over, Jace makes his way into the castle. Several lords and ladies stop him on his way, congratulating him on his victory. He thanks them in passing, his thoughts only on getting into the castle, where he knows he will find you.

There is a feast to be held after the tournament, and while most everyone heads that way, he dismisses himself, saying he wishes to change before then.

When he turns down the hallway towards his quarters, the area is empty. The guards that usually stand at his door were at the tourney and are now sitting down for the feast.

You come around the other end of the hallway, your red dress immediately drawing his eye. You glance around cautiously before breaking into a run, launching yourself into his arms. He catches you easily, laughing as his arms settle around you.

"Oh," you say on a breath, pulling back just enough to face him, "You have no idea how worried I was for you."

"Have you so little faith?" he asks with a smile.

"I believed in you," you say, hand to his chest, "But belief doesn't change the fear that comes at watching a lord twice your size sprint at you with a lance."

"I'm alright," he says, his hands running gently along your back. You smile at him and lean in to kiss his lips softly. Jace hums contentedly into the kiss, his arms wrapping tighter around you as he pulls you into a corner and deepens the kiss.

Together, you stay locked there for a long moment, relishing the quiet that is so hard to find. Jace's hands travel through your hair and over your body, greedy to get his fill of you while he has you.

"I should get to the feast," you say softly when you break for air, your forehead pressed to his.

"Stay with me," he says, entwining his hand with yours.

"My father will be looking for me," you say. Jace's smile drops. "I'm trying," you say, "To sway him to our favor."

"I know you are."

"Your victory today should help with that," you say, giving him a small smile. "Congratulations, by the way."

"Thank you, My Lady," he says with a laugh. "I'll see you at the feast."

"Yes, My Prince."

By the next week, your father's attitude still hasn't changed. At the feast, you tried to talk about the prince, but he wouldn't hear anything of it. Jace had even come over to greet your family. Your father was diplomatic and only spoke to the prince for as long as he had to.

"I don't get why he won't give his blessing," you say, looking down at Jace. His head is in your lap, his eyes closed. He is so peaceful at this moment, you hate to bring this up again, but there seem to be fewer and fewer times for the two of you to be together. Even now, you are supposed to be with other ladies of the court, practicing your needlework. Instead, you snuck off to the Godswood to be with Jace amongst the blossoming trees.

"I'd be queen one day," you continue. "What more could he want for me?" Jace opens his eyes and looks at you with a frown.

"It's because of the rumors about me," he says lowly. You want to say he's wrong, but you wouldn't even believe yourself. The rumors of Jace's parentage had only grown in the last few years. It seemed that as he became older, and King Viserys grew sicker, the accusations only multiplied.

"I don't care about that, though," you say brushing your fingers through his hair.

"You should," he says, taking your hand in his own. "There are some who would see my brothers and I slain, rather than see us inherit our birthright."

"All the great houses swore allegiance to your mother," you say, squeezing his hand. "And you are her trueborn son. To do so would be--"

"Treason," he says, "But there are still those who would try it."

"My father wouldn't," you say. "As stubborn as he is, he is loyal to King Viserys, and by extension, your mother." Jace sits up, a serious expression on his face.

"Tensions are high amongst my family," he says, taking your hands in his. "In the entire kingdom, really. I am worried what may happen. Your father is smart, and that is why he must worry, too."

"You all fear something that may never come to pass," you say, "Are we to be separated in the name of what ifs?"

"We are to be separated until we can convince your father that I can keep you safe."

"And how do we do that?" you ask. Jace lays his head back on your lap.

"I don't know," he says.

The room is dark when you enter your father's quarters that night. He sent word to your lady's maid to see him immediately, but she couldn't find you until now, because you and Jace had been intwined in the Godswood all afternoon.

"Lady Clegane said she did not see you today," your father says right away, before you can even greet him. "Were you not to be under her tutelage this afternoon?"

"I don't need to study my needlepoint, Father," you say, stopping in front of him. "No man alive cares how well his wife can stitch."

"You were with the prince, weren't you?" he asks, standing. He towers over you, but you hold your head high, meeting his gaze.

"Why don't you like him?" you ask. He merely shakes his head.

"It is not a daughter's job to pick her husband," he says, "That duty lies with her father."

"And who would you have me marry instead? A lesser lord of the Westerlands? Someone directly under your control?"

"If that is what I demanded, yes," he says, bracing your arms. "I raised you to obey me, Y/N."

"No, you raised me to cage me," you say, tugging from his grip. "I would be Jacaery's queen! There isn't a more advantageous match out there for me. Yet you refuse to even hear us out, because it is not of your doing!" His face reddens, a telltale sign of his rage. You have never raised your voice to him before, and are now slightly scared of what he may do.

"I think it's time you return to Casterly Rock," he says lowly.

"What?" you ask, momentarily stunned.

"Your time in King's Landing is over," he says firmly. "You have become disobedient and careless."

"Father--"

"Do you think I am the only one who sees it, Y/N?" he asks, taking your hands in his desperately. His eyes are wide and pleading. "Do you think no one saw the two of you in the Godswood today? That no one can see the secret looks you exchange? That family is shameless, and I will have you take no part in it.

"I will not allow your reputation to be ruined by the prince's," he says. Tears begin to form at the finality of his words.

"When do I leave?" you ask, setting your jaw as you fight off the tears.

"I'll escort you the day after tomorrow, so you can make your goodbyes," he says. He can't meet your eyes.

"Very well."

Jace is speechless when you tell him. He found you sitting outside of his chambers the next night, tears streaming down your face. He invited you inside, a hurtle the two of you had yet to pass until then, and held you close while you told him your fate.

"We'll only have tonight," you say quietly.

"Maybe it's for the better."

"How can it be when it separates us?" you ask, looking up at him with watery eyes.

"Just for now," he says, brushing your hair back gingerly. "When things relax, we can try to convince him again."

"How long will that be?" you ask, "He'll have me married off as soon as possible, I know." Jace frowns down at you, his eyes searching for an answer in yours, that he knows he can't find.

"I won't stop fighting for you, Y/N," he says. "I promise."

"I won't either."

"We'll find a way," he says. You nod your head, a new wave of tears incoming, and relax into his chest. He holds you in his arms for a long time, his had tracing patterns along your back. The fire is nearly out in his hearth, and the room grows dark quickly.

"When did he say he wanted you back?"

"Fuck what he said," you say, looking at him intently. "I am not leaving your side tonight." With a hand to his cheek, you bring your lips together. The kiss is slow, a bit salty with the tears streaming down your face, but it is all he has ever wanted. He tries not to think about the fact that this might very well be the last time he ever gets to taste your lips, ever gets to hold you.

But it seems that your thoughts go there as well. Quickly, the kiss turns passionate. Your teeth scrape against his lip, like you can take him with you to Casterly Rock. His hands move down your body, to places he hasn't dared to explore yet. As one, the two of you move, so that he has you pinned to the couch, his body atop yours in a way he's only dreamed about before. You moan into his kiss as his body rocks into yours.

“Y/N,” he says breathlessly, forcing himself to break away from your kiss. Your lips are red, swollen from his touch. Your hair is spread out around you in a cascade of curls. It is torture to see you like this and not bring his body clashing into yours again.

“What?” you ask, your hand trailing down his chest, as if you need to touch him however you can.

“We should stop.”

“Why?”

“If anyone ever found out, you would be disgraced. Your father already doesn’t like me, I don’t want to give him any other reason to—“

“I’ll tell you something right now,” you say, “My good name is mine alone to disgrace. Being here with you now, doesn’t change a single thing about my honor.”

"Are you sure?"

"I need you, Jace," you whisper. You are barely able to finish the words before his mouth meets yours again, fiercer than before. He doesn't stay there too long. He needs to taste you everywhere, savor every moment he's got left with you.

His lips move across your face and down your neck. He loves the sounds you make when he bites down softly, the way your back arches your body into his. He sits the two of you up for just a moment, so that he can pull at the laces along your back.

When the top of your dress falls, he stares at your bare chest for a long moment. You smile at him, your skin flushed.

"You are so beautiful," he says. You grab hold of his face, kissing him again as you fall back onto the couch. Jace palms your breast, kneading gently as you whimper into his mouth. You pull at his clothes, too, until you rip his shirt off over his head.

Skin to skin now, Jace breaks from your lips to kiss down your chest. He lingers for a moment on your breasts, but his need to take you is growing too urgent. He moves down lower, tugging your dress down with him until you are fully exposed to him.

"Y/N," he says on a sigh, marveling at the sight of you.

"I love you."

"I love you," he says, dropping his lips to the folds at your center. The moan you let out is nearly enough to send him over, but he won't deny himself the opportunity to feel what it's like to be inside of you. He focuses on your pleasure, kissing the sensitive bud at the apex of your thigh, watching your face with rapt attention, seeing what action makes you cry out, which makes you thrust into him.

When you cry out his name, his watches proudly as your body clenches, waves of pleasure roll through you. Jace keeps up his actions for a few moments longer, tasting and savoring the moment as you come down.

When he sits up, he watches the rise and fall of your chest, the satisfied smile on your face. He kisses your lips passionately, treasuring the little sounds of happiness you make as he does.

He drops his trousers next, rubbing his cock against your slick folds. He presses into you slowly, barely able to keep his control, his need is so great. You gasp as you take him in, grabbing hold of his shoulders. He begins to rock into you, his movements gentle. As your sounds become more frequent, he picks up his pace, until the only sound he can hear is your cries of pleasure, and the collision of your two bodies.

He comes soon after that, his body collapsing on top of yours. For a long while, the two of you lay there, sweaty and happy, waiting for your breathing to return to normal.

"Jace," you say on a breath, breaking the silence first.

"Yes, my love?" he asks, his eyes meeting yours.

"This cannot be the last time," you say, cupping his cheek.

"It won't be. We'll find a way, I swear."

It's early morning when you return to your chambers. Your father collects you an hour later, and although the look he gives you suggests that he knows where you were, thankfully, he doesn't say anything.

The journey to Casterly Rock is long, taking nearly three weeks, and the entire time, your thoughts are on Jace. You bring him up a few times with your father, but after the most recent, he stops looking at you, stops speaking altogether, and rides astride his horse, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

When the news of King Viserys's death breaks, you hear it from your lady's maid. You shoo her away when she tries to finish braiding your hair. You know you should feel sad - Viserys was a great king, and had been sick for a long time. The last time you saw him, he looked like a walking corpse, and you had to avert your gaze.

But his passing means that Rhaenyra will be crowned queen. She will return from Dragonstone, where she fled just a week after you left King's Landing, and Jace with her.

You run from your chambers and burst into your parents' quarters, and find them talking in hushed, urgent tones. Your mother turns at your arrival and the look on her face scares you. There is panic in her gaze, mixed with a sadness that seems to grow when she sees you.

"Y/N," she says softly.

"I just heard the news."

"Yes."

"I expect we'll be leaving for King's Landing soon?" you ask, looking to your father. "For Princess Rhaenyra's coronation?"

"My dear," your mother says, a hand out to call you to her side. "Maybe you should sit down."

"What is it?" you ask as she sits you down in front of their empty hearth.

"Rhaenyra is not going to be queen," your father says.

"What do you mean?"

"Aegon has been crowned."

"He usurped the throne?" you ask in shock. "Are we gathering our bannerman? Should we--"

"Y/N," your father says with a sigh, taking your hands as he sits across from you. "We won't be calling our bannerman. We are supporting King Aegon."

"You swore allegiance to Rhaenyra," you say icily, looking between your parents' faces.

"I can't explain it all to you, daughter. There is much you don't understand."

"Uncle Tyland?" you ask quietly. Certainly, your level-headed uncle would see reason, when your father could not.

"He sits upon Aegon's small council," your father says.

"How long has this been planned?" you ask, moving away from your parents. The room suddenly feels too suffocating. Watching them, waiting for their response, you catch a quick look between your parents.

"How long have you known about this, Father?" you ask, stepping closer to look him in the eye.

"Rhaenyra was never going to be queen," he says lowly. "Regardless of the parentage of her sons. Although, that certainly didn't help her cause." You pull back from him, a look of disgust on your face. "And Aegon will make a good king."

"What will happen to Rhaenyra? To her sons?" you ask, the second question coming out broken. He doesn't answer. You look to your mother, hoping for some words of support from her, but she shares the same sad look on her own face.

"You've known this for so long . . ." you say, thoughts racing, "That's why you wouldn't approve an engagement between Prince Jacaerys and I."

"Yes," he says, "And I won't feel sorry for it. He'll be killed, no doubt. I don't want the same fate for you."

"But Daddy," you cry, calling him by a name you haven't in years, feeling as helpless as if you were still that child, "I love him!"

"It's already done, Y/N," he says, pain in his eyes. You let out a strangled sound before sliding down the wall.

"I'm having his baby," you say through a sob.

"What?" your mother asks urgently, crouching at your side. "What do you mean?" But no words come to you. The tears are falling too fast, any words choked by hiccupping.

Eventually, they bring you to your room. They both asked more questions about the baby, but you don't answer them, you can't. You don't trust them.

Your father had known this fate would befall Rhaenyra, would befall her sons. He knew you loved Jace, and he still let it all happen.

The next morning, your mother comes into your room. Her eyes are bloodshot, with dark circles underneath them. She brings you a cup of tea and kisses your forehead, before she says anything.

"Tell me about the baby," she says. "Are you certain?"

"No," you admit, bringing your knees to your chest. "But I haven't had my blood in a few weeks." Your mother nods and looks down sadly at her own drink.

"You'll need to drink moon tea," your mother says softly.

"I won't."

"Then you'll need to get married immediately, and claim the child as your new husband's."

"I won't do that either."

"Y/N," she begins with a sigh.

"You've already slammed the door on my whole world, I won't let you take this one last piece of him I have. If I am to have his child, I will keep it and I won't claim it as anyone else's."

"You'll be ruined," she says. "And if Aegon finds out that your child is Jacaerys's--"

"He won't. Nobody needs to know."

"Your father won't like this," she says gently. "You do not wish to make him angry."

"He's been angry. I've made my decision."

The next week, your cycle arrives, and you cry all day long.

"Sending another raven?" Rhaenyra asks, stepping out onto the cool balcony beside Jace. He gives her a tight lipped smile and nods. "Have you heard back from her?"

"Here and there," he says. He has been sending ravens to you for the past two weeks.

"I'm sorry your feelings fell into the middle of this mess."

"You have nothing to apologize for, Mother," he says seriously. She gives him a sad smile, a palm to his cheek.

"Baela tells me you have a plan to get her out," she says. Jace looks at her with wide eyes. He hadn't technically asked her permission, and what he was doing would be dangerous for their position.

"I know I should have told you," he starts.

"Yes, you should have. I would like to help," she says. She laughs at the bewildered look on Jace's face. "Do you think I would let you suffer here, knowing she's there, probably suffering too? Tell me your plan, Jace."

So he does. He gives her the same instructions he just sent to you. She gives him her support, while offering a few suggestions. She leaves him on the balcony after, giving him space to think over his plan, and to try and quell the hope building up inside of him.

All he is waiting for is one word from you, and he will enact this plan.

A day later, a raven knocks at his window, waking him from sleep. He leaps up immediately to grab its message, and finds just one word, written in your handwriting.

Yes.

On the morning of your escape, you awake with a smile on your face. It has been weeks since you felt anything at all. Your lady's maid enters into the room to ready you for the day, and you greet her, "Good morning."

"Good morning, My Lady," she says, looking at you in bewilderment. You're not sure you've spoken to her since you arrived at Casterly Rock. "I trust you slept well, then?"

"The best yet," you say.

As she moves about the room, getting your clothing together, you make sure to pick out the dullest dress in your wardrobe. When she sits you down to do your hair, you have her tuck your tendrils into a woven braid. Everything for indiscretion, or this plan will not work out.

When you walk into the breakfast room, your parents are gathered around a table. You give them a kind smile, playing the part of the dutiful daughter, knowing that your plans for escape were all laid.

"Good morning," your mother says, an air of suspicion in her voice.

"Morning," you say, sitting down next to her. "Good morning, Father."

"You haven't forgotten about your commitment today, I hope?" your father asks.

"No, I remember I am meeting with Lord Lannys today," you say innocently. He studies you for a moment like he doesn't believe you, but then his expression changes, or he forces it to. He forces himself to believe that you have finally pulled out of your darkness.

"Perhaps I'll accompany you down there," he says, "It's been a while since I have checked in on Lannisport."

"No," you say quickly. "You said you'd let me go with just a few guards."

"So I did."

"I have so little freedom," you say, "Am I to be chaperoned every day of my life?" The look on your father's face is one of remembrance, that this is the behavior he expects from his daughter.

"You will stay close to your guards," he says firmly.

"Of course."

"Our world is not as safe as it once was."

"I know."

"Very well."

You thank him and your mother, and when you bid them farewell, it is bittersweet. You try to see them as the loving parents you had when you were younger, but now you only see the causes of your heartbreak, and know that you're making the right call.

"When will she be here?" Joffrey asks impatiently, for the third time.

"Soon, I think," Jace answers.

"Why has it taken so long?"

"You don't have to wait with me, Joff," he says with a look to the younger boy. "It takes a long time to get here from the Westerlands."

In his plan, Jace had wanted to assure that your route would not be easily followable. The plan was for you to go to Lannisport and get aboard a ship that would take you to Seaguard. From there, you would travel by horse to Gulltown, where the Arryns would assure you passage to Dragonstone.

Yesterday, he got word that you arrived to Gulltown safely. If all went well, you would be in Dragonstone anytime now.

But the waiting was agony. Many times, Jace thought about saddling Vermax and flying out to you, just to get one glimpse of you. He knew himself, though, and knew that if he saw you, even from the air, he wouldn't want to let you out of his sights. He needed to wait patiently.

He was as bad as Joffrey, though.

When he finally sees your ship on the horizon, his heart starts beating faster. He rushes from his balcony and makes his way through the castle. Joffrey tries to keep up, but Jace loses him somewhere along the steps leading down to the shore.

Jace gets to the pier just as the small boat does. He doesn't think he is breathing as you step off the boat. Your eyes are searching for his and when they find him, a smile breaks across your face. You run towards him and he does the same, meeting you in the middle of the pier.

The second you are in his arms, you break down into tears. You cling to every part of him, your hands needing to touch him, needing to know that he is well. He realizes he is doing the same, his hand tangled in your hair, the other on your back.

"Oh, it's so good to see you," you say, pulling back just enough to look him over. Before Jace can say anything, you kiss him quickly, but fiercely.

"I'm so glad you're here," he says, hugging you again. You laugh, squeezing him just as tight.

"You're probably exhausted," he says, taking your hand and leading you back towards the castle. "You've had a long journey."

"Just a month," you say with a shrug, making him laugh.

"Well, you deserve your rest. I'll bring you right to my room," he says, "But there's one thing you'll have to do first."

"What's that?" you ask, furrowing your brow.

"Speak to my mother."

Dragonstone castle is not that much different from King's Landing, but it's unfamiliar, and unwelcoming. At least, the men sitting around Rhaenyra are. As you stand before them, some of your courage starts to slip.

"I am relieved to see you here safely, Lady Y/N," Rhaenyra says with a gentle smile.

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. She stands and moves closer to you.

"I am sorry for having to do this, but seeing as your house has pledged their support to my brother, I have to ask where you allegiance lies," she says, stopping in front of you.

"With you, of course," you say immediately.

"You must know the risks, Y/N," she says, "You could very well be killed for supporting my claim and Jace's." For a moment, you glance back at your prince, and gather strength from his encouraging look.

"I'd burn my whole life down before I listen to another second of my father's scheming, and well before I bend the knee to Aegon Targaryen," you say.

"I love your son very much, I would never do anything to jeopardize his future, or yours, My Queen." Rhaenyra gives you a smile that is so much like her sons. She nods her head.

"Thank you, Y/N. Welcome to Dragonstone."

"Thank you, Your Grace," you say. Before you can even turn around, Jace's hand is in yours. He is looking down at you with a smile.

"Come on," he says, pulling on your hand gently. He leads you through the castle, up to his chambers, which will now be your own, he explains.

Once the doors close behind you, he is upon you, wrapping you in his arms as he kisses you. You smile into the kiss, realizing that this is not a dream, or just a passing moment. You'll get to stay in his arms for the rest of your lives.

"I love you," you say when you break away. "Thank you for getting me out of there."

"You're my lady, Y/N," he says, "And very soon I'll make you my princess. Of course I sent for you. I love you."

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing your body into his again as your lips connect again.

"You must be exhausted," he says breathlessly. "You'll want to sleep."

"All I want is right here."

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adhdprincess · 7 months ago

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To your note: To me, the post ep. 8 time skip is our fandom Mount Everest. It's the most challenging storyline to deconstruct(which makes it more fun to write). Congrats on writing a post ep. 8 fic ❤

I added this to my read later list! Thanks for sharing!

Walls of Glass

Joel and Ellie struggle to deal with the aftermath of Silver Lake.

Rating: Teen Tags: The Last of Us, The Last of Us (HBO), Joel and Ellie, Joel Miller, Ellie Williams, post-episode for episode 8, canon-compliant, angst, hurt/comfort, PTSD, trauma, canon-typical violence, implied references to canon sexual assault of a minor, Joel and Ellie need hugs, Christmas in January, cuddling, Joel is a good dad who tries really hard, Ellie is angry, probably unrealistic expectations of a small-town library in the apocalypse Word count: 17k

Notes: Everyone has their post-episode 8 headcanon, right? This is mine. <3

Read Walls of Glass on AO3

#i haven't made a post ep.8 fic #not sure if I will but I love reading them!#fic rec

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seraphont · 4 months ago

Note

Howdy howdy! Just wanted to ask if you possibly have a link to your AO3 somewhere? I've been hunting for Dying and Getting Over It all morning and I just can't seem to find it!

WAHH I’m sorry it’s still being written! I was waiting for MD ep 8 to drop so I could make it as compliant to canon as possible.

So now Im just figuring out if/how I want to adjust some plots in the story hehe. This is also the first time I’m writing a fic, so I’m taking my time with it!

TLDR: not posted yet, it’s still cooking lol

#the tapper #DaGOI au #dying and getting over it #drone tessa au #drone!tessa

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2-years-of-kp · 10 months ago

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Happy two years of KinnPorsche The Series and welcome to this year's anniversary event!

In celebration of the show and us as a fandom, this event will host prompts and a rewatch, so we can enjoy the show once more, and to encourage creativity and new creations for its second anniversary. Starting from April 9th, the event will run across 28 days; dedicating two days to each episode and one prompt pair as listed below.

Any and all creations are welcome! You don't have to follow the prompts, they are just here to give you some inspiration if you'd like.

Make sure to use the tag #kpanniversary2024 on any anniversary-related posts so we can reblog them to this blog and feel free to add your writing to the Kinnporsche Two Year Anniversary collection on AO3 as well!

Got any questions? Feel free to send an ask!

REWATCH SCHEDULE

Apr 9-10: Episode 1

Apr 11-12: Episode 2

Apr 13-14: Episode 3

Apr 15-16: Episode 4

Apr 17-18: Episode 5

Apr 19-20: Episode 6

Apr 21-22: Episode 7

Apr 23-24: Episode 8

Apr 25-26: Episode 9

Apr 27-28: Episode 10

Apr 29-30: Episode 11

May 1-2: Episode 12

May 3-4: Episode 13

May 5-6: Episode 14

PROMPTS

List 1: Your Favourites

Ep 1 - Apr 9-10: Favourite Main Character

Ep 2 - Apr 11-12: Favourite Supporting Character

Ep 3 - Apr 13-14: Favourite Episode

Ep 4 - Apr 15-16: Favourite Location/Set

Ep 5 - Apr 17-18: Underrated Character

Ep 6 - Apr 19-20: Favourite Romantic Relationship

Ep 7 - Apr 21-22: Favourite Platonic/Familial Relationship

Ep 8 - Apr 23-24: Favourite Scene

Ep 9 - Apr 25-26: Favourite Outfit

Ep 10 - Apr 27-28: Underrated Ship

Ep 11 - Apr 29-30: Favourite Family

Ep 12 - May 1-2: Favourite Parallel

Ep 13 - May 3-4: Underrated Quote

Ep 14 - May 5-6: Your Choice!

List 2: Your Interpretation

Ep 1 - Apr 9-10: Fate

Ep 2 - Apr 11-12: Misfit

Ep 3 - Apr 13-14: Heroes

Ep 4 - Apr 15-16: Tension

Ep 5 - Apr 17-18: Regret

Ep 6 - Apr 19-20: Comfort

Ep 7 - Apr 21-22: Heist

Ep 8 - Apr 23-24: Haunting

Ep 9 - Apr 25-26: Trust

Ep 10 - Apr 27-28: Manipulate

Ep 11 - Apr 29-30: Villains

Ep 12 - May 1-2: Identity

Ep 13 - May 3-4: Secrets

Ep 14 - May 5-6: Legacy

RULES AND GUIDELINES

Any kind of creations (fics, drabbles, fanart, edits, gifs, videos, etc.) are welcome!

Use the tag #kpanniversary2024 so your creation can be reblogged to this blog.

Be respectful of other people; this event is no space for negativity.

Mature and NSFW content is welcome, but must be tagged properly - both on Tumblr and on AO3.

Feel free to skip days, only participate for one day, etc. however you like!

You can participate in the prompts, the rewatch or both - it is up to you!

Late submissions are allowed.

One prompt or a combination of both prompts can be used, and all prompts are open to personal interpretation.

Multiple creations per prompt/prompt pair are welcome!

You do not have to follow the prompts, any creations during the course of the event are welcome.

Since this event is meant to celebrate the show itself, no actor content or behind the scenes content will be reblogged.

DISCLAIMER

This event has drawn inspiration from the previous year's anniversary event, as well as Kinnporsche Week in 2022.

Happy creating!

#announcement #kinnporsche #kinnporsche the series #vegaspete #kimchay #kimporchay #kinnporsche event #kpanniversary2024 #kinnporche the series #kpts #kpedit #kinnporscheedit

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lbxbx · 10 months ago

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M A S T E R L I S T

Content warning: All fics contain strong language and mature content, minors do not interact.

Cockpit | Knj series | Completed

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12

Blackmail | Kth | 5 eps.

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Accidentally Yours | JJK | wattpad series

1 | 2 |

My work is also cross posted on Wattpad, most of my updates will be posted there couple of days earlier than on tumblr.

#my tiny masterlist #pls tell me if i should include anything more #to be pinned

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lalunanymph · 11 months ago

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lose lose game (m) — ginoza n.

ginoza finds himself caught between hell and a hard place when he’s forced to bring in a latent criminal who happens to be the only person he has ever loved in his life

warnings: unprotected sex, soft!ginoza, slight yan!gino, reader is coded to be feminine, college crushes, mild angst, gino is traumatized lmao, ooc!gino, restraints, gags, mentions of cheating, kinda dubcon if you squint, weapons, canon typical violence, enforcer!gino x fem!reader, unedited, unbeta-ed oops

dawn says: debuting my first ever pp fic hiii look im gonna be honest, i only watched 3 eps and half of the movie but i would let this man do unspeakably unholy things to me

Ginoza is a hard head.

As much as his superiors and colleagues would vouch for the opposite, you’ve known him since you were a girl and he was a boy.

He hated losing, and more than that, he hated being proved that he was wrong.

So, when the stats reflect past his murky dark eyes and encroaches the territory of his disbelieving thoughts, he has to fight back the urge to hurl.

120 Crime Coefficient.

The coffee he ingested this morning as his only meal churns heavily in his stomach.

The smiling face and rosy lips dug through his thoughts, rendering them a repeat of no, no, not her, not her. Fear clawed through his chest and he was once again 8 years old, fearing the stomping of boots; the cracking thuds of bodies against the drywall.

Watching mutely in horror—in helplessness��as his father was dragged away by men in suits, his entire bloodline branded as an impending danger to society.

Akane’s voice is soft, cutting through the fog of his whirlwind thoughts. “You know what happens next, right?”

Ginoza’s nostrils flare. Another thing he absolutely detested was someone telling him what to do when he already had half a mind set on it.

For the first time since becoming her subordinate, Ginoza flashes Akane a veiled look of distrust. She misinterpreted it as his reluctant acceptance.

“Good. Bring her back, Gino-chan, then we can talk about your reinstatement as an Inspector.”

Dangling his old post right in front of him like a bone to the dogs he once swore to hate, nothing could prepare Ginoza for the flash of pure hatred coursing through him like a lightning strike.

But, he muffles the resentment; sends Akane a curt nod.

“I’ll be back,” is what he promised.

With her out of the system, is what he didn’t say out loud.

Shuttering light flitted across your face, the train tracks above passing in mechanical whirs, waking you from a fitful sleep.

The dregs of fatigue still clung to your eyelashes, rendering you in a drowsy stupor that you didn’t notice a shadow moving across your boxed-in room. It was the cheapest unit you could find on your runaway budget; after a street scanner had spotted you, word soon escalated to your job management and you had discovered your things packaged in boxes right outside your office door—effectively rendering you jobless and homeless in one go.

There was nothing you could do but run for the streets, hiding in the shadows until someone killed you or you were arrested.

Sitting up, you stifled a yawn.

Someone cleared his throat.

Eyes shooting wide open, you quickly leapt from the bed, hitting the lights to illuminate the barrel of a Dominator staring right at your face.

The man behind it was quiet as a whisper, his hard eyes trailed right on your shell-shocked expression.

“Don’t resist.”

You swallowed hard, imploring him with a wide gaze. “Please… I did nothing.”

He stepped closer into the light, and your chest squeezed in recognition. “Nobuchika?”

Ginoza looked like he had bit down on a handful of nails; mouth twisted into a grimace, beads of sweat rolling down his forehead.

After years of having not seen each other since college, Ginoza looked different.

Taller. Lethal. The corners of his lips were downturned—tired.

You felt more than noticed the heavy blanket of exhaustion eclipsing his broad shoulders. Something stirred deep in you—a kindred spirit reaching out towards his own.

“Don’t make this anymore difficult for me.”

Gulping, you balled your fists. “So, you’re gonna arrest me? Let them torture me?”

Those green eyes with heavy bags underneath them darkened under your weak, fluorescent light. “No. But, if you put up resistance, I’d be forced to do something I don’t want to, as well.”

A shaky exhale of a breath. And then, you turned on your heel to run.

Ginoza caught you in a flash, his strong arms vining around your smaller frame.

“Let me go!” you screamed, kicking his shin, clawing at his arms. Everything in the universe was transpiring against your escape when he clamped a hand around your mouth.

Going up against an apex predator was foolishness to the highest heavens, especially when said hunter already had restraints prepared.

Your arms were bound behind your back, a lead gag slotted in between your teeth. Ginoza was efficient in subduing you without the need for his Dominator; a feat of pure shame considering how you couldn’t even put up a good fight.

He hauled you towards a kitchen chair, unceremoniously dumping you onto the hard bench. Fastening another knot to the wooden arms, he had you captured and restrained; your watery eyes lifted towards him to beseech for mercy.

The boy you knew before—the one who brought teachers homemade cards on their birthdays—was a far cry from the cutthroat man staining your periphery.

As if he could read your mind, Ginoza got down onto one knee, right in front of you. His expression was unreadable, Dominator whirring on the ground beside him.

You eyed the weapon with unconcealed fear, and a beat of terror flitted in between both of your tense figures.

Green eyes the colour of murky, contaminated pools fixed onto the tears escaping down your cheeks. He thumbed them away, careful to not touch your parted lips.

“I’m sorry,” was all he could say. You stared at him in abject horror—at this man who was condemning you to a life of isolation. “But, I have to bring you in. Personal… feelings… aside.”

Feelings?

You struggled to fix your watery eyes onto him. In the background, your Psycho Pass beeped, reminding the both of you of the stats which was damning evidence of your deteriorating psyche.

“What happened?”

Nobuchika spoke softly, as if someone could overhear. He was probably right to be this hesitant; Sibyl’s eyes and ears were never far from latent evil, as the saying once went.

You clamped your gaze down to your knees, the gape in your chest throbbing. More hot tears squeezed past your closed eyes and you gasped, heaving and crying in front of a friend you hadn’t seen for years.

Memories of late nights kombini runs, leaking ink stains on paper and hot ramen noodles filtered in your mind. There was once a life where you had all the potential to be great; to grow and change society. Unjaded and unfettered, you had hoped for your country’s best, only to see it all crashing down in one fell swoop.

Gently, he tugged the gag out of your mouth, letting the spit-slicked bit roll down your chin.

“Hey. I’m speaking to you.”

Eyes flashing, you regarded him with frosty distaste.

“You’re not supposed to speak to someone who's latent,” you seethed. “Or, have you forgotten your code, Enforcer.”

The badge on his chest burned.

By now, an Inspector should be in his ear, telling him to unanimously pull the trigger and paralyse you. But, Ginoza swatted those thoughts away, focused on extracting the reason why your Hue was murky and your Psycho Pass stats were affected.

“I can help you.”

Akane would tear him a new one. His position would get even more muddier; a dog who could not kill off his prey. They would tighten his leash, get eyes on him everywhere he went. He wouldn’t even be allowed to leave his apartment if they could help it.

Fate or stupidity kept him frozen in one spot, those sharp eyes drinking in your waning resolve.

You sniffed, hanging your head forward. Finally letting your dense truth roll off your stubborn tongue.

“My ex-boyfriend cheated on me and syphoned all of my money away and I… I want to kill that motherfucker.”

Your sobs filled the room. Ginoza discreetly clicked off his audio, turning his body cam’s eye to the ground.

Something bloomed in his chest, whether from familiarity or pity, he could not pick it apart. Ever since he saw your name in the system, he was a haunted man, trying and failing to fight this war between duty and memory—the same conflict he carried for 20 over years pouring like rancid waves to liquify his strong sense of righteousness.

Good and bad—they wavered in the face of his longtime college crush.

Ginoza always thought he would spend his entire life alone when you left the prefecture and he never got to tell you his real feelings. He was loyal like that; a pandering dog waiting for the one true owner of his heart to come back.

And here you were, a mirage shimmering right in front of him. Playing right into his hands.

Those scarred knuckles caressed your cheek, catching you off guard with his tender afflictions.

The dark locks framing his face from his loosening man bun tickled your chin when he leaned forward. Soft as down, his lips met yours, swallowing your sudden gasp of surprise.

Ginoza drank you in; a man hungry for a taste of life after being denied his human tendencies for years on end. Funny how his dedication to the Bureau could come undone because of one single woman—because of you.

Forgetting and re-remembering the aching beat of his heart; Ginoza was gentle when he cupped your face in those large palms of his, careful to lick across the seam of your lips—tasting all of you in.

Your soft moans caressed the upper palate of his hot mouth, and he knows the same feelings he harboured towards you were reciprocated.

They ignited his desires, fueled his dangerous thoughts and occupations on what he needed to do next.

There was no way he was going to let this rush of exhilaration let him go. Since the beginning of his consciousness, his thoughts were moulded by the system, forged by the system and executed by the people who upheld the very system which had forced him to go numb.

You were the one thing to bring colour back to his dull senses—it all started to make sense why he had held out this long; played by the system’s rules if it meant he could get you in the end.

“Nobuchika,” you whispered once he broke off the kiss, the sweetest exhilaration rushing through him from the sound of his name coming from you.

“I’ll protect you,” unprompted, his promise was thorough and sure. “Anything that happens to you… I won’t let them touch you.”

The tinge of possessiveness marked its way as tears of gratitude down your face. You nodded and peeled your brilliant gaze onto him.

Spurred on by the pure trust you had in him, Ginoza removed your binds, helping you stand up. You crashed into his arms, and he held you there, cheek squished right to your hair.

“I never thought you had feelings for me,” he murmured. “Seems like a dream.”

Your watery chuckle rebounded back into his ringing ears. “You were always so distant.” As you spoke, you tugged on the lapels of his suit, smoothing your hands all over his broad pecs. “You kinda scared me, if I’m being honest.”

In reciprocation, he shrugged the jacket off, eyeing you hungrily down the line of his defined nose.

“I did?”

You hum. Reaching for the buttons of his crisp, white shirt, you slowly tugged it off. “But, I always thought you were brilliant, Gino—”

“Nobuchika,” he almost panted when he felt your touch sear onto his scarred chest. “Call me by my name.”

You gazed up at him past your lashes, nodding. “Nobuchika. I love your name.”

Without a word of complaint, he let you crowd him onto your bed, the old springs squeaking in resistance towards the fall of his larger body. Straddling his lap, your burning eyes set his mind ablaze—he suddenly felt too dizzy, like all the air in the room had been sucked up.

Ginoza skimmed his prosthetic hand down your thigh, feeling the taut sinew and muscles which dimpled underneath his mechanical fingers.

Soft. You were so, so soft for him.

He perched up on his elbows, mouth frantically finding yours. You let him bruise kisses onto your parted lips, down your jaw and across your collarbone and neck.

Ginoza slotted his hands onto your hips, holding you like a man making sure his treasure was secure.

He let you tug off his pants, shrug off your clothes to leave you glowing and fully naked in the half-light.

Low and static-like, in the background, he thought he heard someone calling his name over the comm.

Common sense and the call of his superiors were drowned out the second you sank down on his dripping cock. Ginoza’s spine unfurled like a precious book, his moan sweetened with the taste of surrender. You paced yourself with hands locked around his shoulders, muffling your moans into his neck.

The sullied Enforcer lets you rut yourself on his cock, using him to get yourself off as he patiently plastered sloppy kisses down your throat and jaw.

Your eyes rolled back in the dim light, whites exposing for a glimmering second to set off the wild, unprecedented racing of his heart.

Ginoza supposed he has never felt such pride before in his life when he feels your pussy shuddering around his cock; an honest love letter to his unwavering passion at fucking into you until a rush of slick stains his thighs.

You had come, gasping out his name and stabbing your nails right into his skin.

He feels the fever pitch breaking, tightens his core and gives one last snap of his hips upward.

Not caring that he had fucked you raw or that you were technically an enemy under his lawful consideration, Ginoza allowed himself to pour every drop of his desire right into your willing body.

Your syrupy mewls lusciously caressed his hot ears, and the world goes black for one second as he tries to catch his breath. Weaving in and out of consciousness, Ginoza felt you standing, and his instinct told him you were just going to the bathroom to clean up.

Sleep weighed him down, insistent and caring—nurturing him in her motherly arms.

Ginoza slept like he had never done before since the day he became an Enforcer; cradled in threadbare blankets and the memory of your body pressed up to his.

Till this moment, he swore he had felt you worm your way back into his arms, and even the brief, ghosting of your lips on his forehead.

But, when he opened his eyes, he noticed that the room was empty.

A chirping, mechanical voice told him it was currently three in the morning; a full two hours since he had first arrived at your decrepit home.

Your clothes were missing, bag gone.

Ginoza jumped to his feet, scrambling to put his clothes back on; cursing right under his breath.

His enforcement comm buzzed, and he felt Akane’s frustration before he answered the call. If Kogami were here, he would’ve laughed at his lapse of judgement—how easily good pussy could knock him out.

“She’s gone,” Akane said, flat and emotionless. “I expect a full report on how you had let her go, Ginoza.”

Before he could open his mouth and apologise—defend himself from her rightful flurry of disapproval, his Dominator whirled up.

And Ginoza couldn’t believe his ears. The mechanical clicks almost didn’t set in for him—left him mute and rooted to the spot from the magnitude of what he had just done.

How drastically he had fucked up and your cleverly veiled deceit which stunned him right to the core.

Target’s CoEfficient level has changed. Target: L/N Y/N, affiliated with Shambala Float rebels. Enforcement mode: Lethal Eliminator. Please aim carefully and eliminate the target.

pussy so good it knocked him out like nyquil sjsjsjjs

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost or claim as your own.

#ginoza x reader #ginoza nobuchika x reader #ginoza smut #psycho pass smut #psycho pass #ginoza nobuchika #psycho pass bbies hit me up #i need more pp moots 😭#if this is ooc msorry i was too honknee to study the source material #tw yandere #🦢 writes

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asco-bisco · 4 months ago

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am I the only one who thinks Aiden’s parents were nicer than people think?

Disclaimer: this probably makes no sense because I made this sleep-deprived but still wanted to post it

I’ve seen and read a lot of fics, posts, etc. about Aiden’s parents being neglectful, rude, or forcing etiquette onto Aiden but there’s no way I’m the only one who thinks otherwise.

In (S2) Ep. 61, we see a glimpse of Aiden’s ‘childhood’ of him as a child curled up on the bed in a messy room. This scene just made me think overall that Daniel and Jessica can try their best as parents but overall, they have horrible parenting skills.

In the same episode, we see how much they care for Aiden. Daniel and Jessica begin to panic when Aiden starts seizing and you can see it plain on their faces.

They’re both reaching out to him and maybe it’s because they’re his son so their brain automatically creates this worry but they wouldn’t be like this if they didn’t care.

But in the next episode, we can see that Daniel is sitting on the couch while watching over Aiden who is sleeping. He’s clearly worried for his son and no one can make me think otherwise, that one panel is everything to me.

Even at the hospital, once Taylor starts shouting at them and they see the phantoms out the window, Jessica wants to leave with Aiden. Might be a small detail but I’m gonna use it for my argument (I don’t know if that’s the right word).

When we see younger Aiden who seems expressionless in the family photo, I think it would be safe to assume he was forced into that position, right? In my opinion, it could’ve just been him wanting to make his parents proud rather than being forced, or I think this case would be half-forced.

In episode 78, Daniel and Jessica’s first concern is the state of their son who is passed out and is aware that he died in the phantom dimension (which they are in), they would be pretty worried. They rather hear an explanation for Aiden’s state than how or why they are also stuck in the dimension.

Looking further into Daniel and Jessica’s parenting skills or issues, they probably haven’t seen the issue or fault in their parenting. They allowed Aiden freedom by giving him allowance, letting him dye his hair at a young age (guessing around grade 7 or 8), and letting him get red eye contacts.

But at the same time, they’re barely there. I think parents assume kids are fine or overreacting when seeing them in a state of deep sadness and they must’ve gone through the same thinking process.

In the end, I think Jessica and Daniel love Aiden very much. No one can change my mind.

No one can tell me they abuse him, insult him—he literally has the same eyes as his father— or I don’t know what anyone else has said.

Daniel and Jessica love Aiden they just need to up their parenting skills or needed to.

#daniel clark #jessica clark #aiden clark #sbg #school bus graveyard #sbg rant #thoughts #sbg thoughts #sbg theory

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kinnporscherewatch · 1 year ago

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KinnPorsche La Forte Rewatch Event 2023

It's been over 1 year since KinnPorsche aired, so if you miss it, want to experience it again with other people or watch it for the first time, join us for a collective rewatch! Don't know what KinnPorsche is? Check this trailer out and consider watching the whole show about romance between a mafia boss and his bodyguard. It has gays, pretty men, crime, murder, sex, some insane crack, bread ads, wattpad y/n fan meets idol romance is there, ball frying happens and many more fun things!

Schedule: August 1st to August 16th

Time: no particular time limits, as long as it's the specific episode's assigned day in your time zone, watch it! If you can't watch that day, don't worry, catch up in the next few days! This event's organisers will be watching at 20:00 Bangkok time (GMT+7), if you want to follow our time.

Streaming On: iQIYI with subscription (or any other way you can, but check that you are watching the uncut version)

How To Participate: — Rewatch episodes — Liveblog your rewatch — Create content: gifs, art, meta, memes, fics, shitposts, fanvideos and anything else you can think of — Reblog posts by other participants — Tag your liveblogging and content with #kprewatch2023 so we can reblog them

Day by Day Schedule: Aug 1 ep. 1 Aug 2 ep. 2 Aug 3 ep. 3 Aug 4 ep. 4, Vegas trailer Aug 5 ep. 5, Kinn/Porsche trailer Aug 6 ep. 6 Aug 7 rest/catching up Aug 8 sidestory, ep. 7 Aug 9 ep. 8 Aug 10 ep. 9 Aug 11 rest/catching up Aug 12 ep. 10 Aug 13 ep. 11, VegasPete trailer Aug 14 ep. 12 Aug 15 ep. 13, WDYS m/v, Pete trailer Aug 16 ep. 14

Reblog this post if you can so that more people know they can join ❤️‍🔥🍞🔪⛓🎸🏳️‍🌈 Messages and asks are open for questions and suggestions!

#kprewatch2023 #kinnporsche #kinn x porsche #kinnporsche the series #kpts #vegaspete #kimchay #kinnporschesource #info

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plzu · 1 year ago

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Hot Chai - (Adrian Chase x Reader)

part 8 <- ☕︎ series masterlist ☕︎ ao3

a/n: happy new year! this fic is almost done ♡ also i almost forgot to post this here today lol summary: Adrian is mad at Chris. You're mad at Adrian. Goff gets loose. It's a whole thing. warnings: canon typical violence (chapter takes place during ep 6: Murn After Reading), no Y/N, nothing else major i don't think but lmk if i missed something word count: 5.2k

Can people be haunted by things that aren’t ghosts? Adrian wasn’t sure, but the image of your watery eyes, and hands shakily hiding your face — it haunts him.

Which sounds excessive. After all, how could you haunt him? You were very much alive. But if hauntings make people uncomfortable, makes it hard to sleep, and makes dread sit with the weight of a sandbag on their chests, then maybe it was accurate. Because nothing has bothered him quite this much since - well. There was the shame he felt at failing to kill Chris's racist dirtbag father, and the potential consequences this failure could lead to. But he got over that fairly quickly. After all, it's not Adrian's fault Peacemaker has a shitty dad.

But you — your eyes dimming when he told you about the threesome. The way your face twisted into something that made his world halt to an unsteadying stop, like the nauseating swaying of a boat at sea. The way your hands hid the stricken sadness from him, too late in hiding the pain.

Because of him. He did that. He didn't mean to, didn't realize he'd say something that could upset you, but still. It was his fault.

Crying generally made Adrian uncomfortable because he had a difficult time empathizing. He doesn't cry, not since he was little. Guts once told him it's because he doesn't have feelings like people do. So he never knew what to do if someone cried around him. It weirded him out, to be honest. He wasn't much good at providing comfort, tended to say the wrong things. And his hands. God, he never really knew what to do with them in those situations, became hyper-aware that he even had hands in the first place. Hands good at killing, but useless in comfort.

He hasn't made someone cry since high school.

Scratch that. He makes grown men cry, like, all the time. Usually accompanied by them pissing their pants because they're terrified Vigilante is going to kill them. (Spoiler alert: he does!)

Like one of the guys in the alleyway downtown, that he saved you from. The one that tried crawling away after Vigilante shot his knees. Weeping and wailing and cowering.

But that's different, obviously. Tears and sobs fueled by fear.

The last time he made someone cry because he hurt their feelings, though, that was definitely high school. Made someone cry because he was just being an asshole. Even if he didn't realize it.

It was eventually explained to him that some people are just weirdly sensitive, so you really didn’t have to try that hard to hurt them. Some people just had emotions like the skin of a too-ripe fruit.

He didn’t think you were one of those people. He never saw you cry in high school, and he definitely would have noticed if you had. Adrian was perceptive like that. ‘Specially with you. I mean, sure, you cried in the alleyway and again in his bedroom but the alleyway tears had to have been from fear like that other guy before he shot his brains out, and then the bedroom tears were from, like, residual fear, he thinks. Not because your feelings were hurt.

But then he told you about the threesome, and the mood shift swept across your face like a fissure, and it was just like when he’d made that girl in high school cry, except worse. Because it was you. You, the person he's been quietly fixated on since, like, the 10th grade. The only other person whose lips he fantasizes about -- either pressed against his, or curved in a smile.

He only ever wanted to make you smile. To laugh. It’s the very sound that drew him to you in the first place.

Instead, he made those pretty lips of your warble and twist into the shape of pain.

He should have listened to you, should have let you drag him to the restroom and take off his mask and shove your bodies together. Because then you would have taken his breath away and, with it, all his thoughts. Because that threesome with Chris pales in comparison to the feel of you touching him.

The memory of the threesome warps his emotions into anger and annoyance. Why the fuck did he follow Chris back into his trailer to bang some chick he didn't even know?

Adrian stands at the front (and only) door of Chris' trailer now. They were off today, no assignments from the Task Force. No Fennel Fields shift for Adrian. Today would have been the perfect day to finally, finally hang out with you, no Vigilante business to get in the way. But if his unanswered text messages are anything to go by, you don't want to see him.

And why would you? He made you cry.

Adrian knocks, and whatever frustrations that spurred him to Chris's place is momentarily put on hold when he hears Chris answer, 'Come in, Adrian' without even coming to the door. Adrian walks into the trailer, impressed despite his annoyance as he closes the door behind him and asks, “how did you know it was me?” to the welcoming back of Chris’s head.

“You knock in a very annoying way.” Chris didn't even turn around to look at him when he said it.

“Oh.” Ouch. Rude.

Adrian opens his mouth to apologize, as he usually does whenever people point out he's being unintentionally annoying, but something about Chris's tone kind of ticks him off. Instead, Adrian says, “well, maybe I didn't realize how annoying my knock was because I was distracted by your bad advice.”

This seems to get the other man's attention. In an irritated and confused huff, Chris asks, “dude, what the fuck are you talking about?” as he turns to face him.

“You convinced me to bang that underappreciated chick with you and now they're mad at me.”

This only confuses Chris more. “Amber's mad at you? Why would she be mad at you?” His face sobers into upset understanding. “Dude, did you give her a fucking STD!? You said you were clean! Great, now I have to get checked. I was just at the hospital, man, I don't have time for this.”

“No! I don't have an STD, I'm not talking about her! I mean my- the barista I've been telling you about!”

Chris rolls his eyes, annoyance rolling off of those huge shoulders of his. He just turns back around in his seat.

Adrian's fists clench at his sides at the action. This conversation is far from over-

Small tapping sounds grab his attention. Adrian looks over and sees the alien thing that flew out of the Senator's face sitting in a mason jar with holes poked into the top. “Dude, you still have that thing?”

“Yeah,” Chris confirms without looking back.

Goff makes squeaky noises inside its glass cage. Its little blue and white bug-like body, long-limbed, strangely animated. It doesn't move or act like any bug Adrian's ever seen (at least, not in Evergreen). There's an awareness about itself that clearly indicates some enhanced intelligence.

“He tried to kill us,” Adrian reminds Chris, “and he cut off half my toe.”

He's still a little sore about that, if he's being honest. Currently he's sore about a lot of things.

“Yeah,” Chris says, sounding weirdly detached, distracted. “Sometimes I just think I'm insecure about my masculinity and I'm making up for it by having a dangerous pet.” He says this all in one breath.

His words only confuse and, honestly, slightly upsets Adrian as Chris continues, comparing himself to 'knuckle-dicks in Georgia.’

Peacemaker has not been the same since he got out of Belle Reve. Yeah, he's still the same solid mass of muscle. He's still a giant jerk that says the funniest, meanest things. He can still kick ass, still sharp with a gun and never misses his targets. But now there are moments where he struggles to pull the trigger.

The wavering lately is worrying, to say the least. Maybe even disappointing.

“Dude, my advice?” Adrian offers. “Cut it out with the introspection. The mind is a den of scorpions better left running from instead of towards.”

He should know. Adrian spent most of his childhood trying to analyze those metaphorical scorpions until he decided it was easier to ignore them completely. But things have been kind of rocky, lately, and Adrian has been finding himself taking a peek now and again. Something about both you and Peacemaker being back in Evergreen at the same time is kind of shaking up his foundation.

Chittering and tapping noises from Goff's mason jar grabs Adrian's attention again. “What is Goff doing?”

Chris spins around in his chair and they both watch as Goff uses whatever weird goop he's sitting in to draw a circle on the glass. Then he abruptly stands and grabs the mason jar in his gloved hands. When he holds it up to the cool, gray light filtering in through the skylight, they’re met with a droopy symbol of peace.

Sitting on Peacemaker’s couch, both men grow increasingly frustrated, but not for the same reason.

Seeing as Goff is attempting to communicate with them, Chris sets them up in his living room, Goff's mason jar on the coffee table, with a few rules for interrogation. There is, obviously, a language barrier, but the alien can understand English just fine.

Adrian is upset about how difficult the rules are to follow. Chris, for whatever reason, finds his confusion unreasonable. Sticking to 'yes' and 'no' questions isn't that easy, especially when Adrian has been finding it incredibly difficult to focus since last night, when he left you to cry all alone in the cafe.

Chris's impatience with him is just making Adrian even more frazzled. Usually he can deal with Peacemaker's snapping. He didn't always understand what he'd done to get yelled at, but it usually blew over.

This time, though, Adrian is finding that he is equally mad at Chris. So when Chris shouts that maybe Adrian should shut the fuck up, Adrian shouts back.

“I see how you are! Your preferred conversation partners are Eagly and Goff! Neither of who are capable of speech. Try introspection on that, motherfucker!”

Chris, for once, does not have an immediate comeback.

Adrian takes in a big, steadying breath, feeling the angry warmth on his cheeks and trying to dispel it. An apology sits at the back of his throat, rising up out of simple habit, but an image of your face -- usually all smiles and twinkling eyes -- flashes in his mind. Tear-stricken.

It's enough to force the apology back down.

Turns out, Adrian doesn't even have to apologize because Chris says he's right (I mean, he knew that already; those words didn't explode out of him out of nowhere), and continues in a tone that is unusually soft and quiet and reflective.

Adrian interrupts. Chris yells. This interrogation is going nowhere.

Adrian, having gotten the hang of the whole 'yes' or 'no' question rule, asks Goff, “would you tell your buddy it's okay to sleep with other people despite him having someone he already really likes?”

Chris yells again. “Dude, what the FUCK are you talking about? How is that relevant to an alien invasion?”

They're interrupted by a phone call, Aqua's Barbie Girl ringing clearly from Adrian's back pocket. Adrian rushes to fish his phone out, hoping very badly that it's you.

It wasn't you.

Adrian and Chris are up in the trees, hiding from the cops that are now tearing Peacemaker's trailer apart. The cops that Murn called to warn about, telling them to get the fuck out of dodge. Goff is strapped to Adrian's back, a brilliant move on his part to free up his hands.

Brilliant, until Adrian falls from the tree flat on his back, where one of the cops is looking for them. But that's not as concerning as the mason jar shattering, freeing Goff.

“Oh, shit.”

Goff shakes off the fall and flaps hurriedly towards the detective, who has her gun out and pointed at Adrian on the ground. Adrian’s less concerned about that and more concerned about what Goff’s next move is gonna be.

Chris lands beside him and both men watch in horror and fascination as the alien flies directly at the detective's face, making her fall flat on her back as Goff starts burrowing into her mouth. The move is quick and aggressive and the detective struggles and fails to rip it out of her.

They rush to her side as blood erupts from her mouth, decorating the side of her face crimson as her body begins to convulse. There is nothing they can do but run once they hear another cop round the corner of the trailer and alerts everyone else to their position.

Adrian throws Chris's cell phone outside of the car window on their way to meet the rest of the team at the abandoned video store they've been operating from.

He says he did it to keep them safe, which is mostly true. They can track them through the phone, you know? When Chris angrily advises that his phone was secure and untraceable, and that now a bunch of Eagly pictures are gone, Adrian can only bring himself to be a little regretful.

Adrian is finding something grimly pleasant about indirectly hurting Chris like this. Something scratching a weird itch in the back of his thoughts. It's similar to when he'd throw dynamites at the other man in retaliation for being almost blown up himself. But that was all in good fun. Just guys being dudes, entertaining each other with violence. Real macho-like shenanigans.

No, this was different. Adrian got some sort of satisfaction from tossing Chris's phone out of a moving vehicle right now because he's... more mad at him than he thinks he’s ever been.

And it's not because the hero he's looked up to has been weirdly introspective lately about the usual way they've handled criminals. That was more irritating than anything. It’s a lot easier to go through life without agonizing the lives you’ve taken; surely he can remind Peacemaker of that again.

No. Adrian is mad at Chris because he blames him for hurting your feelings.

“Thank you, by the way.” Chris sends him a quick, confused glance. “For telling me I could bang whoever I wanted. Real solid advice, bro.”

Chris furrows his brow. “What the fuck- why do you keep bringing up the threesome?”

“Because! If it weren't for you, I never would have made them cry!”

“Why the fuck would you tell someone you like that you had a threesome!?”

“You said it was okay!”

It's all Chris can do to keep from ripping the steering wheel off of this car and beating Vigilante with it.

Their argument evolved into weird hypotheticals by the time they stormed through the doors of the video store, but gets (thankfully) interrupted by the mean blonde — Harcourt.

“Hey! Do you have a diary?”

“No,” Chris half-shouts, voice still carrying the weight of whatever shouting match he was in the middle of having with Adrian.

Adrian holds the door open for Eagly to waddle through. Whatever qualms he has with Chris right now, the bird has nothing to do with it. Eagly is chill. Adrian's not gonna be rude and just not hold the door for him.

The conversation between Chris and everyone gets more heated once Chris reveals that Goff is now free. The team doesn't react well to this, which is probably why Chris kept it a secret up til this point.

“Yeah, we kept Goff,” Adrian clarifies in answer to Harcourt's exclamation.

“You kept Goff!?” Murn shouts incredulously. Eyes wide in angry disbelief. Like he doesn't want what he's hearing to be true.

“Because Peacemaker has masculinity issues,” Adrian explains. His lips quirk into a smirk that has absolutely no joy in it. “Probably the same masculinity issues that convinces your BFF — sorry, second BFF — to join you in a threesome even though it'll hurt that BFF's friend's feelings to do so.”

This makes Chris groan in frustration. “Vigilante! Time and place!”

“What the fuck is he talking about?” Harcourt asks, exasperated.

“He's all pissy because he told this chick he's been seeing about our threesome.”

Someone says 'ew' under their breath.

“He told me I could bang whoever I wanted despite knowing about the person I like!” Adrian can't keep the whine out of his voice.

Adebayo speaks up, addressing Chris. “You encouraged him to sleep around even though he's seeing someone?”

“He said they weren't exclusive!” It kind of feels like Peacemaker hasn't stopped yelling since Adrian stepped foot in his trailer.

“Still,” Adebayo says. “He's, like, obsessed with you and he'll do whatever you say.”

(“Hey!” Adrian exclaims. That's offensive, probably! Regardless of whether or not it's true!)

“He's a grown man,” Harcourt interjects. “He should be able to make his own decisions and not blame it on Peacemaker.”

Chris gestures a massive arm out to Harcourt, saying “Thank you!” at the same time as Economos says, “Someone likes Vigilante romantically?”

“That's enough!” Murn sternly shouts, silencing the room. “Where is Goff now?”

They explain how Goff took over one of the cops - the Asian woman.

Fury and disappointment reverberate off of Murn. “God damn it, Peacemaker.”

You don't know why you let it break your heart. Why you let it keep you up most of the night, curled wretchedly into yourself, weeping in tumultuous silence into your pillow.

Adrian Chase, the guy you got unnecessarily and hopelessly attached to, coolly admitted to having had a threesome. There was no tiptoeing around it, either. No hesitation before saying the words that casually ripped your heart out from your chest.

It really should not have hurt you the way it did. Hell, if he had said anything about sleeping with someone else just a few weeks ago, it would only have mildly annoyed you at best. Perhaps made you a tad bit insecure, but you would have shrugged it off.

But things have been slowly crumbling around you ever since that night your old high school friends ghosted you--

No. That's not true. Your life was falling apart well before that. It's why you came back to Evergreen in the first place. But Adrian showed up and made things momentarily steady. A patchwork preventing the further collapse of your mental fortitude.

But then you found out his secret, and he suddenly had no time for you. And before you could fully make peace with the fact that Adrian Chase -- the dorky weirdo from high school -- is Evergreen's infamous Vigilante, Peacemaker came back and you were no longer the center of Adrian's attention.

Which you are ashamed to admit stung.

And as if that wasn't enough, things at home have been so off and confusing. It's a different kind of nervous than what you're used to, walking through the halls of the strangely quiet house. You could always feel their presence, at home -- your mother's more specifically. You've always been attuned to her, some kind of survival instinct so you know when to avoid her. And you have to finally admit that there's a very vacant gap in the house, and you know it's because your mother has not been around to fill it.

This has caused a very antsy mood shift with your dad, one that would make you anxious if it weren't for the fact that his focus is no longer on you. It's on your mother's absence.

This should worry you.

The confusing part is that your stomach is not twisted in knots over the idea that she hasn't been home. You don't bother asking your dad about it when you see him sitting zombie-like in the living room late at night.

(You tend to avoid asking questions when you're afraid of the answer.)

(Hence why you never questioned Adrian when he'd tell you some unprompted lie.)

Truth be told, you can't help but to feel tentatively euphoric. It's one less thing suffocating you at home. Like the weight of a boot lightly lifted from standing on your neck.

You're about to head out to work earlier than usual—you've had free reign of the house since you woke up because even your dad wasn't home that morning, and it was nice until it got eerie—but just as you approach the front door, it swings open.

Your dad stands at the threshold, silhouetted by the light at his back. When you blink and adjust your vision to the sudden daylight that's poured in, you're startled by the unkempt figure walking through the doorway. It's your dad, yes, but in a way you can barely recognize. He looks rough and unkempt, facial hair growing in unruly patches around his mouth. The bags under his eyes suggest he hasn't had much sleep. It's like he's aged 10 years.

“Hey...” He says, but it's hardly a greeting. He barely even looks at you. Mostly, it's like he's looking through you. “Have you, by any chance, heard from your mother?” He shuffles past you in the hallway, not waiting for an answer. Probably not even really expecting one.

You watch the exhausted shape of his back. You feel weirdly guilty when you answer no.

An empty sort of exhale depletes out of him, and it's the only sound of acknowledgement. He doesn't ask anymore questions, doesn't say anything else.

So you leave. You walk into the cafe half an hour before your shift starts, just in time to hear Matty's vivacious voice call out a 'small hot chai for the tall hot guy.' He's fully ready to flirt with the customer as he hands off the drink, but does a double-take when he sees you slink around the counter and to the back.

Matty's flirty smile slips into a frown as he shares a look with Ashe, who also noticed your sluggish arrival.

The two ambush you as you very poorly tie an apron around your waist. It's Matty who speaks first. “You look absolutely terrible.”

You drag your still-puffy eyes to look at him, unsmiling. “Oh, Matty. Truly, my favorite thing about you is your penchant for unprompted insults.”

Matty just rolls his eyes at your deadpanned sarcasm. Ashe steps in to try to amend his rude comments. “What he means is-” Ashe takes in the sight of your sob-swollen eyelids and chapped lips and crooked disarray of your shirt collar. “-wow, God, no, yeah, you do look terrible.”

You scowl. “Do you two have to be back here? Someone needs to be on the floor.”

“There are, like, two other baristas out there.” Matty quirks a perfect eyebrow at you. “Other people work here, you know. It's not just us three.”

You squint your eyes at him, like that can't possibly be true, but say nothing further on the subject.

As you fix the collar around your neck, Matty asks, “So? Are you gonna tell us why you've been crying or do we gotta pry it out of you?”

“Is this about Adrian?” Ashe's voice is soft with knowing and caution.

You avoid eye contact. “He told me he slept with someone else. Two someone elses, actually. At the same time.”

You squeeze past the two other baristas and start making your way out onto the floor. They give each other a look before following.

“So the man had a threesome,” Matty clarifies, less as a question and more matter-of-factly. And completely uncaring whether the customers in cafe hear his indecent statement. “Ugh, of course that weirdo is having threesomes. I could tell just by looking at him that his dick game is insane.”

“Matty,” Ashe hisses as they give him a light backhand on his shoulder. Then, louder, calls out your name. “So you're upset he slept with someone-”

“Two someones,” you interrupt, face otherwise unphased by anything that's been said so far as you clock in at the register.

(“Again, that's just called a threesome, babes,” Matty helpfully quips as he rubs the spot where Ashe smacked.)

“Right, sure-” Ashe says. “And this was something Adrian was hiding from you?”

You grit your teeth as you float right past the two again, towards the log book the shift supervisors use that's open to today's date. Huh, look at that. There are names scribbled here besides Ashe's and Matty's. “He just told me about it, like it was a cool fun fact.”

A customer approaches the register, keeping Matty from accompanying Ashe as they follow you back.

“I'm sorry he hurt you, but...” your mouth sets into a grim line at Ashe's 'but', still unwilling to look up at them. “didn't you tell me just a few nights ago that you guys aren't even together?”

“Yeah, but...”

But he made you feel like you were singularly special. An illusion that quickly shattered at his admittance to sleeping with this Peacemaker guy. Honestly, it probably would have hurt less if it had been some nameless bimbo desperate for Vigilante's attention. No history and less intimacy.

Ashe waits patiently as you sort through your thoughts, until your shoulders slump with resignation, unable to find the right words to defend yourself.

“I get it,” they say. “I get that it hurts, but it's not exactly fair to him or to you if you haven't told him what you want.”

Ashe is right. It was wrong of you to assume you'd have Adrian's sole attention forever. You just hoped that it would last long enough until you got the hell out of Evergreen.

Oof. When did you become so selfish?

Eyes softening, you finally give Ashe a grateful look. “How are you so wise? You're, like, twelve.”

Ashe smiles. “You make it really hard to want to help you sometimes.”

You once again find yourself alone in the cafe at the end of the night. Matty had stayed an hour past their shift just to absorb all the juicy bits of gossip, catching up on yours and Ashe's conversation. He also offered up a few encouraging words, in his own Matty way.

(“If you don't tie that delicious four-eyes down, I will,” he said, giving you a very pointed look.)

Ashe, once again, insisted on staying late with you.

(“If you can clock in early, then I can clock out late, no?”)

You only smiled and shook your head and told Ashe you were fine, really. It lacked the usual desperation, though, the one that tinged your voice with hopes of Adrian stopping by. This time, you convinced Ashe to leave by telling them you really wanted the time alone to think while also keeping your hands busy. So they left with less worry than usual this time.

You received several texts from Adrian earlier today, and you think about how you ignored all of them as you finish counting out the till. They're all unopened, having only caught glimpses of the texts as they appeared as previews on your still-cracked lockscreen.

The first text was an apology that only made you scowl. At the time, you doubted he meant it, or knew what he was even apologizing for considering last night, he only seemed confused by your hurt reaction.

Then there was the text you scoffed out, where he stated he was off today and could meet up, presumably to talk. If you have to see him in that stupid fucking mask again without seeing his stupid fucking face, you think you might actually scream until both your heads pop.

Now, as you lock up the safe, you think that maybe talking wouldn't be a bad idea. Maybe not the best idea, given your fragile emotional state. You really don't trust yourself not to cry more and Adrian's been no good with tears and you don't want to make him uncomfortable (though that should be the least of your worries).

And even worse than whatever it is Adrian has to say (I mean, what more could the man say? Mentioning the threesome was enough, you don't need to hear about they why or the how or the what went in who's hole-)

-Even worse than whatever else Adrian could possibly say is whatever you need to say. Speak out loud and make yourself more vulnerable than when he has you in the backseat of his Sebring with his mouth against your neck. Relinquish whatever remains of your pride as you put the power in his hands, lay bare the fragile beating of your heart and admit how much you cannot stand to be without him. How terrifying the thought that he might not feel the same, now that his real best friend is back in the picture.

The feelings whirl in your gut all nauseating and you grimace. You hate confessing. To give someone else the chance to hurt you. It goes against your self-preservation instincts.

As the song playing on the store speakers quietly peters to end and transitions to the next track, you hear a noise coming somewhere from the back. You pause, straining your ears to try to listen as the music continues playing. You want very badly to play it off as just your imagination, but you're the only one in the store; after the things you have been through recently, it would be unwise to shrug it off without investigating.

Unwilling to venture into the back just yet, you simply stand from your spot at the safe and lean backwards, gazing into the parts of the backroom you could see, and-

Huh. That's strange. The backdoor is opened a crack. You're sure you closed it after running out the last bit of garbage, but it's hard to trust your own memory when you've been so distracted thinking about Adrian Chase and Feelings.

You steel yourself, blowing out a forceful bit of air through your nose and begin to make your way to the back. It could have just been some critter dumpster diving that made the noise, audible simply because the door wasn't fully closed. You close the door, making sure it clicks firmly shut.

As you turn back around, you discover you are not alone in the store after all.

They're still at the video store/base when an announcement reveals on the t.v. that Peacemaker is wanted, due to evidence found in a diary that Chris says isn't his. It's Goff on the podium, and, distressingly, the tall guy from the woods stands next to her, the one that killed those cops and helped him and Vigilante escape.

It looks like they got him, too. He has a face that looks like its skin is stretched too taut over his skull, so maybe it's fitting that he's joined the bad guys, since he already looks the part.

Vigilante's phone buzzes with a text alert, and it makes him forget the tension in the air for a moment. Only one person would be hitting him up at this hour. Maybe you're finally returning his texts!

Sure enough, it's your name on the screen he sees when he fishes out his phone, and his face almost breaks out into a grin. But when he unlocks it, he is greeted with a picture that makes the excited fluttering of his heart freeze and the smile immediately drops from his face.

You're in the cafe, in your work clothes, tied up to one of the wooden cafe chairs. Head lolled to the side, resting uncomfortably on your right shoulder, clearly (and upsettingly) unconscious.

Another text comes in:

If you care for them, you will bring Peacemaker.

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