#they were always meant to meet again under the worst circumstances possible | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meritatem · 9 months ago

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Once upon a time, Damian had an unfortunate encounter with Dubbilex while helping Supergirl. Despite his training, he was still behind his father when it came to resist mental manipulation and so, in order to break him, Dubbilex showed him where his worst fears laid: family and allies fallen under his feet, with his mother at his side, proud of him. It should've been a valuable lesson about himself, something enlightening that should've helped him to gain a better understanding of what he wanted from life, a starting line. Instead, he ignored it.

He couldn't keep ignoring it when he landed on the future and that scenario wasn't just a vision, but the brutal reality. Everybody was gone, his mother included. Ra's was the only one left and by the time Damian figured out how to get back, even his grandfather had beginning to beg for death.

While he worked to undo his mistake, he started, at some point, to conjure in his imagination versions of the long departed; he did it in an attempt to not lost his mind, even if, as time went on, it began to feel like the complete opposite. Pathetic lost robin, sometimes his own voice would said over the others, talking to make-believe ghosts.

It had been so ironic then, how much Damian talked to the Brown living in his mind, when the real one barely had any success in her efforts to make him open up. His biggest realization about Stephanie was recognizing how alike they had been at the time. Both of them were carrying heavy legacies on their shoulders, while failing to be what was expected of the identities they took: a chaotic Batgirl and a joyless Robin... but even then, Barbara and Dick had enough faith to pass on their names.

Despite the fact that Damian will always think that being Robin was the best thing he had ever done, the truth was that he never believed he deserved it nor that he was adequate for it. And on occasion, when he talked to that imaginary Brown that sometimes presented in front of him wearing her Batgirl suit, he asked if she felt like that too.

Damian couldn't do anything about his regrets regarding Robin anymore, but he could do something for Stephanie.

That's why he originally planned to approach Gordon to offer his help in training Brown. Of course he was envisioning nothing but rejection at first, but Damian had no problems with being relentless and using any method at his disposition to make Barbara agree with him. Being presented with the possibility of jumping the cue in front of Gordon was too good to let it pass, because convincing Brown seemed like an easier task than persuading the first Batgirl.

With that idea in mind, he promised to keep quiet about Stephanie if she agreed to meet him the next day just to talk. Part of him was expecting for her to not show up, even when Stephanie seemed more willing after he told her that Pennyworth was going to be present, but luckily - because it meant he wasn't going to have to track Brown at her school again -, she was exactly in the spot where he told her to be, in the corner of an ordinary street, in the middle of the day.

The car Pennyworth was driving was pretty unremarkable, just one of the many in the lineup they had to move around the city without problems, so it was understandable for Stephanie to be confused when it stopped in front of her. The confusion disappeared as soon as Alfred lowered the tinted window, enough for her to get a good look at him.

“Good afternoon, Miss Stephanie.” He said, polite as ever.

“It is you!” She exclaimed, putting her right hand in the middle of her chest. “Thank god,” and she let out a deep breath. “You have no idea how happy I am to see you!”

“Rest assured, the feeling is entirely mutual, miss, I only wish this meeting was under different circumstances.”

“Yeah, no kidding, I really wasn't—oh!” She interrupted herself from what she was saying when the rear door abruptly opened, making her move to avoid getting hit.

“Enough chitchatting, get inside.”

Damian retreated to the right side, making space for Stephanie, who approached tentatively, placing a hand on the door's window and crouching low enough to peek inside, where Damian simply gave her an unenthusiastic look and after a few seconds of hesitation, she finally got in, closing the door behind her.

“Brown.” He greeted, with a small nod.

“Yes, hello, uhm,” she went silent for a second, looking briefly unsure. “Okay, I know Tim told me your name but I forgot. To be honest I was paying more attention to the part where you tried to kill him.”

Ah, classic Drake, always singing Damian's praises.

He made himself more comfortable, crossing his arms while Alfred started the car again. “It was a misunderstanding,” Damian said mechanically. “I grew up somewhere with well-defined rules and a rigid hierarchy system. While living there, I was expected to prove myself by removing anyone in a position I wished to occupy. I understand now that the outside world doesn't work like that, so worry not, I won't make the same mistake again, you have nothing to fear from me.”

“Those were a lot of words just now.”

“I consider myself a wordsmith, you'll get used to it.” Damian's arms were crossed, but after some contemplative seconds, he decided to uncross them to offer his hand in greeting. “I'm Damian.”

Brown eyed his hand like she was trying to find a hidden weapon, but ultimately she took it, giving it a firm shake despite everything. “Nice to meet you, again? You can call me Stephanie.” Damian just crossed his arms again, not adding anything else. “Okay, so, you didn't tell Barbara or Tim, right?”

“I didn't.”

“That's great!” But her expression didn't match her forced enthusiasm. “But why do you wanted to talk to me? Don't get me wrong, I love meeting new people but usually there's less blackmail involved.”

“I want to clarify some things, for a start. Where did you get the suit?”

“I didn't steal it if that's what you're implying,” and she was the one crossing her arms now, defensive. “Cass just... left it behind. She said she was fighting for Bruce but, you know, he's not here anymore so the fight is mine now, I guess.”

Damian kept silent, pondering this new information but deciding to left it for later. He took a deep breath, briefly thinking he'll have to get rid of that habit sooner or later and spoke as apathetic as he could. “You are undisciplined, unprepared and unimpressive.”

“Hey!” Was the instant complain.

“I understand Batgirl works as a separate entity from Batman, but it would be negligent of me to let you go into this battle of his as you are now.”

“What's that even supposed to mean?”

Alfred chose that moment to clear his throat before joining the conversation. “Master Damian believes in preserving his father's legacy. He also believes that said legacy doesn't live in aliases and masks, but people.”

“Tt!” He expressed with displeasure. “What Pennyworth is trying to say with unnecessary sentimentalisms, is that my father dragged people he shouldn't have into his war and it falls on me to take responsibility.” He made sure to look Stephanie directly in the eyes, trying to convey the importance of his next words. “You need direction, support and proper training. All of those I can provide.”

Stephanie frowned, looking stunned. She opened her mouth with a breath as to say something but closed it almost instantly, stopping herself.

At the sudden silence, Pennyworth interceded again. “Don't be fooled, Miss Stephanie, despite his age, Master Damian is a very skillful young man of keen intellect. I wholly and solely believe there's benefit to be gain, should you accept his proposal.”

Brown, properly dumbfounded, turned her head trying to catch Alfred's eyes in the rear-view mirror, but he was focused on the road; not knowing what else to do, she directed her gaze back to Damian, who only raised an eyebrow, nonchalant.

“Thank you for the offer but no thanks?” She finally uttered, at a loss. “No offense, I just don't see how that could it work, besides I really don't want Tim to know about this, I promised him I was going to stop with the vigilante stuff.”

“You seem to be under the wrong impression that I answer to Drake or Grayson. This is a private matter, Pennyworth will keep silent about it and so will I.”

Stephanie turned again to the front, vaguely gesturing towards Damian with her right hand with incredulity. “Alfred, are you reeally okay with that?”

Alfred took some seconds before answering, steady and composed. “Dick and Tim—“ he started with unusual informality. “Are in a very demanding position right now. No amount of years protecting this city would've prepared them for this ordeal, and the only thing we can do is to ease their hardships in any way we are able.” Alfred's voice stayed calm, conversational, like he was just making small talk instead and not about the difficulties they were facing. “I know by experience that we cannot stop you if your mind is truly set on this. Let us help instead.”

Damian hoped that Pennyworth's succinct words were more convincing than his, but it was hard to tell giving the fact that Brown still looked like a confused forest animal in the middle of the highway. In a way, it was entertaining seeing Brown like this, when he was used to her acting with more bravado, but he supposed she hasn't found her footing yet.

“How long has it been since Cain gave you the suit?”

Stephanie looked away, purposely avoiding Damian's eyes, which tell him everything he needed to know. “Like a... two weeks, technically.”

That explained why Brown seemed to be fumbling with her new role much more than he remembered. On the other hand, he had to commend Cain for remaining undetected, because just as he had been in the lookout for Todd, he searched for Cassandra too, coming to the conclusion that she must've left the city long before they moved to the penthouse. Knowing she had been there as recently as a week ago - more or less -, made him a bit unsatisfied with himself, because if he had known she was in the city, he would've redoubled his attempts to find her. Despite the missed chance, Damian knew he'd see her again and luckily for him, from all of his father's hellions, she was the only one he didn't need to worry about.

“Take your time and think about my offer,” he said almost as a dismissal, suddenly becoming more interested with looking at the window. “I don't require an answer today, but I do expect one eventually.” Almost coinciding with the finality of his words, the car gently stopped. “We're here.”

Promptly alert, Stephanie straightened in her seat, turning from side to side trying to recognize where they were. “Here where?”

“Antonella's Ice Cream Parlor.” Without waiting for an answer, Damian opened the door next to him. “Hurry up and get out, Pennyworth needs to park the car before joining us.”

“Ahm,” as it seemed to be her demeanor for this day, Brown hesitated for an instant before speaking. “At the ice cream place?”

“Of course.” He said it like it was the most obvious thing.

“Are we actually going in there? Like, to get ice cream?”

“I know my father attempted to train you,” he said, expression bored. “Don't make him the disservice of asking these kind of questions.”

“You could've just said yes,” Stephanie rolled her eyes. “And why are we getting ice cream? Are you doing field work right now?”

“No. We just had an uneasy talk for you, something to lift your spirits is due.”

For the second time Stephanie tried to say something while stopping before even uttering the first word, however her stupefaction was short-lived, because with jolt she started dragging herself towards Damian, who stepped aside to get out of her way.

“You know what? Fuck it! Let's get ice cream.”

“Miss Stephanie,” Alfred chastised swiftly. “Language, please.”

“I know, sorry, sorry,” she said with a more lively tone than the one she had been using until that point. “Hope you know you're totally paying.” She announced to Damian as soon as she put the first foot outside.

“Obviously.”

“And I'm ordering the most expensive thing they have. Twice.”

“Naturally.”

When Brown finally stood next to Damian, she crossed her arms and watched in silence while the car drove away. “This is not how I was expecting this meeting to go.”

“The world is full of wonder.”

Damian's flat delivery made Stephanie's lips tremble slightly before succumbing to a smile given the ridiculous of her situation. “You're a strange little man.”

Unlike other times when Damian was called little, he decided not to take offense just this once, because at least Brown didn't call him a kid for a change.

The dreadful waiting for the opening of exhibition came to an end on a sunny Thursday.

Damian had not been stressing over this casual outing, that would be immature from his part... he was simply preoccupied with all the possibilities that could unfold during their time in the museum. He kept that to himself, choosing not to bother Pennyworth with it, given the fact that the man was already busy helping him with more important tasks, so whatever Damian's feelings were about this, they were at the most, frivolous.

Still, while he was getting ready, he wished he could tell Colin more about the not so heroic parts of his life. He wasn't in need of guidance, but he wanted to complain about the things he had to tolerate thanks to the fools his father welcomed in his folly; Jon had been so good at that, just hearing his grievances, even if most of the time he wasn't on his side of the argument. It was humorous, in a very mirthless way, how Damian spent all his life acting like he was above needing a friend to share his thoughts with and now here he was, longing for something so insignificant like having someone to tell that Grayson was an oaf. The irony of his circumstances, as always, didn't escape him. Fae contracts and Faustian deals.

He finished getting ready early than he intended, since he was eager to be done with this nonsense as soon as possible. Sadly, he was the only one in an imaginary hurry, so after sending Grayson a message stating he'll wait for him in the living room, once he was there, he went directly to the one armchair that was nearest to the window, deciding this was a good opportunity as any to take a dive into Todd's reading recommendation, choosing to start with Flower Fables. He was halfway the third tale, when he heard the murmur of voices he recognized as those of Alfred and Dick, becoming more clearer as they approached where he was.

Damian had been holding a bookmark between his left index and middle fingers, finally placing it on the page where he stopped reading, before closing the book and getting up, taking a few steps to leave it on the center table, crossing his arms behind his back almost at the same time Grayson and Pennyworth entered his field of vision.

He gave Dick a once-over, arching his brows with something akin to disapproval. “You look like a Philosophy student. Disgraceful.”

All in all, Grayson's attire was acceptable, just casual clothing, with the only remarkable things being the fact that he was using a blond wig - with matching eyebrows -, under a beanie hat and glasses with a wide frame. It wasn't the worst attempt at a disguise he had seen from him, but it wasn't impressive either.

“I'll pretend I don't know you, so please stay six feet away from me.”

Inevitably, Dick cracked a smile at this. “You get meaner each day. And here I was about to compliment your outfit,” he turned to his side, looking at Alfred with amusement. “How much did you have to bribe him to put him on that?”

Alfred arched a single brow, his expression remaining neutral. “Master Damian dresses himself, I'd be concerned if he didn't at his age.”

“Uh,” for a moment he seemed surprised, but soon enough he was smiling again. “I should've seen this one coming. You finally got your wish, eh?”

“Good things come to those who wait, sir.”

Damian frowned, caving in and looking down to make sure the clothes he was wearing didn't magically change- stranger things have happened, after all -, but no, the black dress shoes, slacks and tie were still the same, just like the dark green V-neck sweater and the light grey button-up shirt underneath it.

“What's so noteworthy about my attire?” He asked, not knowing if he should feel affronted.

Most of his life, when it came to clothes, Damian had been more worried about their usefulness and practicality than anything else. In the past, Pennyworth used to be the one in charge of buying his clothes, leaving Damian with the choice to wear whatever he wanted, with the rare exceptions when some social gathering required a specific dress code.

Damian's interest in his own wardrobe changed after spending years being chained to a Batman suit, with some days feeling like the bat symbol was burning his chest through the layers of armor. Now that he was better established, just like he started to occupied himself with cooking and books, he decided to spare some of that effort for the contents of his closet. Nevertheless, he didn't feel that Pennyworth's initial selection varied drastically from the clothes he end up choosing for himself; he thought long about the kind of garments he had been more comfortable with, in his early years on Gotham and from there, he just picked things that he liked in those styles. Overall, just frivolous stuff that he only was paying attention to now, because he was committed to find out the mundane things he overlooked in his past life, if one could call it that. That's why he didn't understand the sudden fuss about some clothes he personally bought.

“Nothing,” was the annoying answer that Grayson merrily gave. “It's just an inside joke.”

Just like he had been done more and more, Dick extended a hand to ruffle Damian's hair, who didn't react, which was something he was proud of to achieve so quickly, because the first time it took him months to be able to relax around Grayson. “I dislike those.”

“I can give you all the context you need on the way.”

Damian wrinkled his nose before starting to walk. “I didn't say I want to understand.”

As he passed them, Dick turned again to Alfred, giving him a look that was a mix of amused exasperation. “Looks like we're off. Do you need anything? We can get it for you once we're done with the exhibition.”

“Nothing at the moment, thank you. Please take care and remember that I expect you to be on your best behavior.”

“Don't worry, I'm sure Damian is not going to cause any problems.”

“I was talking to you, Master Richard.”

Fortunately for Damian - because he had a reputation to uphold -, Alfred and Dick were behind him, so they couldn't see the smile, almost childlike, he couldn't suppress at hearing Alfred's dry words.

The journey to the museum wasn't that terrible... because Damian carefully planned his words, strategizing his conversation topics like he was in the middle of an intelligence gathering operation. Since the moment he accepted to accompany Grayson, he spent the next days mentally preparing for this, trying to do as much control damage as possible in advance, because he knew that this little innocent daytrip was going to do unspeakable damage to his emotional state, how could it not? When spending time with Grayson felt like both, a punishment and a reward.

Regardless of his initial success, he had to admit that his interactions with Grayson were harder to navigate when they weren't fighting crime or conversing about their night lifestyle. Damian was avoiding talking about anything that could be considered “work” related, because he wanted Dick to have a respite from the heavy shadow of the bat that loomed over him, but it didn't mean he was having an easy time forcing himself to be as socially acceptable as possible. That's why he welcomed the sight of the museum when they reached their destination, eager to use it as buffer between him and Grayson.

Once they were inside, Damian examined the architecture now that he could see it in the daylight and whole, because the future hadn't been kind to locations like these one. Initially, when he came to Gotham, he didn't think much of its mixed architecture: the obnoxious art deco interlaced with soft art nouveau, drowning in a sea of gothic style edifications. It made for a somber city, which suited his father well.

Damian's fondness for Gotham's architecture was initially born out of necessity. Upon arriving in the wrong time, the only thing he had left of the life he knew were the foundations of the city. The more information he tried to absorb about, well, everything, made it clear that this enigmatical future version of him was, as Drake once said about him: “very overkill”, at least one had to be to go as far as to booby-trap every single prominent building in Gotham. In attempting to keep his mind from going astray, Damian not only talked to the dead, but he tried some other things, ordinary and desperate, like reading books from the remains of the library and actually checking out for them, hunting down the surviving bottles of what it became his preferred iced tea and sitting in dilapidated gargoyles, sketchbook in hands, looking at the crumbled city and restoring it to its former glory from memory in between the blank pages.

It was comforting in a way, looking now at the interior of the museum and seeing it so pristine if solemn in its design, because the last time Damian had been there in the day, they were only ruins left.

And as expected of an inauguration, the museum was full of people interested in the new display; usually Damian hated crowded places, but in this case, they provided convenient distraction, that's why he also didn't protest much to the guided tour Grayson got them into. In a way, he appreciated that Dick was willing to suffer this activity for him - as misguided as his attempts at bonding were -, so he did his best to pretend he wasn't bored while following the guide, mentally drowning her words while he was more focused on the Egyptian objects scattered on the wing.

There was everything one could expect to see in an exposition of such nature: colorful sarcophagus, statues of all kind of sizes, funerary masks, Canopic jars, weaponry, tablets, clothing, jewelry and everyday items. All of these things he was very well familiar with, given the kind of artefacts his grandfather collected through the centuries, even gifting him a set of khopesh that once belonged to some pharaoh Damian never bothered to remember his name.

By the time the tour was coming to an end, Damian's thoughts were far away, lost in the past that never was and the future that will never be, but then again, it wasn't unusual, because that's how he spend most of his waking moments, being his own Pythia, prophesizing tragedies and thinking of ways to prevent them. Just like his father. And it was that thought that made him finally snap from his musings, because from all the omens he was carrying with him, that was one he wanted to avoid most. Should his father be in his place at this precise moment, he would waste the entire visit daydreaming about his Batman's pursuits, instead of trying to enjoy the company; Grayson was sacrificing his free time for Damian, doing something he thought Damian would appreciate, so the least he could do was to at least be present, truly present, and not roaming in the corridors of his mind.

With this new purpose, Damian waited until their guide concluded the tour and as soon as they were dismissed, he turned to Grayson with the intention of asking him to take some photographs, since the man actually brought a camera with him, however, he was too slow, because one of the women from their group beat him to it. If he had to guess, she was around Grayson's age and clearly interested in him, something Damian noticed early on when he was assessing every person in the group, which was understandable, because Dick's poor attempt at disguise didn't do much to conceal his attractiveness.

Damian rolled his eyes, exasperated. If he didn't want this to end like a typical Wayne party with Grayson entertaining strange women, he was going to have to intervene, but a simple question from her made him stop before he could do anything.

“That's great!” She answered to what Dick said with a flirtatious smile. “And are you here alone?”

“Oh, no, I'm—” to any person that didn't know him, the minuscule pause that Grayson took before his next words could pass unnoticed, just him inhaling so he could keep talking. “With my brother, he likes this stuff, at least I hope he does.”

As always, Grayson was all charm with an easygoing disposition, but the way he doubted for a split-second before declaring Damian his brother, was something that took Damian's breath and made him tense up, feeling more than ever the need to say something as crass as he hadn't done in years, just like all those times he interrupted Grayson's conversations in Damian's days as his Robin, uncouth and angry. Instead he turned around and walked away, trying to call as little attention to him as possible, getting out of sight, shielded by the visitors.

He passed many objects being displayed, looking but not looking, willing himself not to fixate in any thought, because if he did, he felt like he would crumble like that Gotham he left in the future.

In his aimless steps, from the corner of his eye he got a glimpse of an statue of Anubis and that made him retrace his way. They were several people surrounding the crystal showcase that contained the statue, but Damian had no problem moving in between them until he was at the front, something that hardly bothered anyone, given his size. Damian looked at the basalt statue representing Anubis and he let himself think about his grandfather, just like that night weeks ago, because that felt like a much safer line of thought at that moment. Looking at the head of the statue, Damian questioned, not for the first time, what made his grandfather take it as an inspiration to symbolize his position as leader of the League. Anubis didn't exactly fit in the “demon's head” aesthetics - if such thing existed - and going by his grandfather's antics, it would've made more sense to choose any figure that opposed death, not oversight it. But maybe it was precisely that, after all, his grandfather fancied himself as a judge for humanity and their evils.

He could've stayed there for the rest of the day, thinking about his grandfather's motivations, be they about fashion or morality, but hearing Grayson call his name dragged him out of the little safe space he made for his thoughts. He didn't turn but he knew the precise moment Grayson came to stand next to him.

“This place is huge,” Dick said after contemplating the statue a little, like he was trying to see what Damian was seeing in it. “You could get lost.”

“I know where every door in the building is,” he answered, stoic and unmoving, still looking at Anubis and the secrets it didn't hold. “Getting lost isn't an option.” Grayson chuckled and Damian clenched his teeth at the sound, instantly infuriated at himself.

“The point of coming here was to relax, not to give you homework.” He waited for a response but at Damian's prolonged silence he tried again. “Are you a fan?”

“Of what?”

“Anubis?” He put his hands in the pockets of his pants, too casually to be an spontaneous gesture. “Personally I think Ra is my favorite, you know, classics.”

For a moment, Damian visualized Todd there, asking Grayson what the fuck he was talking about, because Damian was trying to be as decorous as possible, so he couldn't inquire that way. “I like dogs.” Was what he chose to say instead.

Clearly the answer wasn't enough for Dick to work something out, because after another moment he tried again, more clearly this time. “So, what do you think? Are you having fun?”

“It's been educational.”

“Aw shucks, I missed the mark with this, eh?”

“No!” He said immediately, surprising himself. “No, you didn't.” He added, more measured.

Damian gave the statue one last look and proceeded to move, making a vague gesture at Dick to follow him, which he did. Damian used those few seconds while they walked away from the people that were still admiring the statue, to reorganize his thoughts, because whatever he was feeling, it was irrelevant, asinine, worthless. He wasn't going to fail Grayson and ruin all the effort he put on this, Damian was better than that and if he wasn't, he will make himself be, right away.

“You must understand, I've been in Egypt before and some things here aren't new for me.” Telling truths was such a convenient tool, because he didn't even have to lie, just let people form their own ideas about his words, based in the context they thought they had. “But I appreciate seeing them again, it's been an introspective experience.”

“I'm going to assume that's a good thing,” just as Damian wanted. “But now I have a lot of questions, you weren't there raiding tombs, were you?” He asked playfully.

“I know you're trying to be funny but I can't answer that in public.”

Dick looked at him like Damian was jesting, shaking his head with something like looked suspiciously like fondness, it made Damian want to stop and kick him right there. “Okay, let me ask something that won't get you in trouble. Tell me about Egypt, how was it?”

He frowned slightly, considering the question. “Beautiful. Merciless.” He said ultimately, frowning again, at himself this time, because he could do better, Grayson deserved better. “I spent most of my time in the dessert, days are unpleasant there and the nights are harsh, but if you have a fire and you're not suffering from hunger and thirst, it's magnificent,” the fingers of his right hand twitched almost imperceptibly, with the desire to hold a pencil. “The sky is so clear it feels like you drowned beneath the stars. It's easy to be at peace there when it's only you in an ocean of sand... I'm not sure if I can say it was a humbling experience, it feels so long ago in my memories and I'm know I wasn't having spiritual revelations in the middle of the dessert, I was most probably irritated and tired but even then, every time I looked at the sky at night, I understood why my mother and my grandfather love this world so much.”

And just like that, Damian felt suddenly very self-conscious and muscle memory made him try to reach for a hood that wasn't there, which in turn made him feel even more of an idiot. Curse Grayson and his ill-advised efforts to establish a connection with him. And curse Damian too! For caring so much it felt like he was suffocating with every breath he took. Things like this were precisely what he was trying to avoid from the start. Damage control his foot!

He ventured a glance at Grayson and when he looked like he was about to say something, Damian decided on a whim that the only viable option now was to act like the kid he certainly wasn't. “No,” he declared, pointing at Grayson with his right index. “I don't need your feedback and right now I want to... decipher that papyrus over there,” and he vaguely gestured to someplace behind Dick. “So please keep quiet while I work.”

Without waiting for confirmation, Damian rushed to the wall where various papyri were spread behind a crystal barrier. Oh, if his mother could see him right now, she would be positively aghast at his behavior. For his part, Grayson was too gracious, pretending Damian wasn't making a complete fool of himself, waiting patiently at this side with hands behind his back, his expression composed, not betraying anything. And he waited longer than Damian expected him to before finally talking again.

“Did you find something interesting?” He asked, humor tinting his voice despite his serious expression.

“Just boring praises to Osiris.” He answered trying not to sound as mortified as he felt.

“Really?”

“Yes, there.” He pointed to the second papyrus that was in the bottom row and closer to him.

“Are you sure you deciphered it,” and his façade started to crack. “Or the explanation at the side told you?” He finalized, poorly concealing a smile.

“Who do you take me for?” He uttered, affronted. “Of course I did.”

At this, Dick finally dropped the act. “Wait, do you really can read that?”

“My mother instructed me to learn a dead language as a pastime. It seemed like an easy option at the time.”

“Only you would say something like that,” he said, incredulous. “Or your dad, which yeah, actually makes sense I guess,” and he crossed his arms, looking at Damian in a way he hadn't done in ages: like he was measuring him. “Can you tell me what it says?”

“It depends, do you want an exact translation or I'm allowed to take liberties? I can understand the general intention just fine but I don't think I can translate word for word.”

“Sure, put it on layman's terms for me.”

If Damian was being honest, he was more than happy to fulfill Grayson's request, because translating hieroglyphics was infinitely more easier than trying to navigate conversations when his emotions were working against him.

He supported his right elbow over his left palm, holding his chin with the other hand and stood straight as possible, his eyes examining the symbols in the papyrus while he mentally constructed an appropriate way to convey what was placed there. When he felt satisfied with what he had, he crossed his arms and taking a quick look around, he judged that he was at an acceptable distance from the other visitors.

“In broad terms is something like this,” he started, adopting the same tone he used to do when he was reporting to his mother. “Hail Lord of Time, Heir of Geb, hail Lord of Life, bearer of the Atef-Crown, hail Lord of Fear, son of Nut. Hail to you, Osiris, Lord of the Two Horns, Ruler of the Hidden Place, Chief of the Westerners, worshiped by followers of Re and Atum, reverenced by Shu and Tefnut, adored by the Two Lands. We humbly fall before you, Creator of Gods, judge of dead and living, grant us a place amid your followers.” He wasn't exactly glowing with pride, but he was satisfied enough after acting like such a simpleton before.

Whatever reaction Damian expected from Dick, it definitely wasn't for Grayson to start rummaging through his jacket. “That was amazing, Damian,” he said almost at the same time he took out his phone, tapping in the screen before he placed it horizontally, pointing it towards Damian. “Say it again!”

“Are you recording?” He asked like he was disgusted after hearing something unsavory.

“Alfie wanted photos of you,” he at least had the decency to explain. “But this is so much better! He's going to love it,” but then he lowered the phone a little, looking dissatisfied. “But if you repeat it it's not going to be as genuine,” he mused for a moment before cheering up again. “Oh, I know, the first tablet the guide showed us, the big one with colors? That is perfect.”

Damian didn't need to be familiar with how Grayson's reasoning worked to understand what he was saying. “It's also very crowded and has a literal translation next to it.”

“Good thing you're not saying it word for word.”

He was going to protest, of course he was, but Grayson in his sudden joyful madness, took Damian's right hand with his left and started walking, making Damian follow his lead while he happily chatted about Alfred's family albums, giving the context he didn't asked for.

It wasn't like Grayson's hold was inescapable, it wasn't a strong grip, just enough force to keep one's hand closed. Damian tried to think if Grayson ever did this outside of necessity, like a move in the middle of a fight or catching him in midair; it was such a pointless thing, always has been, because Damian was never a child that needed to be secured in public spaces. Still, it wasn't bad, it didn't feel patronizing or asserting, so Damian didn't object, not that it was surprising, considering that he would follow Dick Grayson anywhere, even to the very doors of Hell. So he went.

He wondered if Grayson knew this is what he apparently needed. If that changed something, if it was even intentional. Whichever the case, after this, Damian fared better the rest of the visit, satisfying Grayson's silly requests to translate every time he pointed at something, letting him take photographs and even taking some himself for his art studies, telling him more about his stay in Egypt, but being careful to only talk about inconsequential things like animals or food. By the end, he even accepted Dick's suggestion to visit the gift shop before they left. Initially he had no interest in buying anything, he was just wandering while waiting for Grayson but when his eyes fell on an Egyptian themed hourglass, it was like a call. The same reason he picked an abandoned clock factory for his hideout, was the reason he decided to make such a frivolous purchase; in another life, his father would've been proud to see Damian taking after him.

On the way home, Damian felt like he could finally loosen up and have a brief moment of tranquility, like when he just successfully finished one of his mother's tasks, the kind he would prefer not to do again. Grayson, however, seemed to enjoy wrecking Damian's solace, because while waiting for the green light in a particularly long stop, he unfastened his seat belt to be able to delve in the back seat.

“Now that we are far away and you can't ask for a refund,” he said before sitting properly again, this time with one of their paper shopping bags from the museum in hands. “I bought you something.”

Damian scowled, clicking his tongue but accepting the bag nonetheless. “That was unnecessary... but I'm thankful for the gesture.” He added after a thought.

The gift in question was a plush toy of Anubis. A very caricaturesque one, clearly designed to look appealing to children with its big head, small body and oval cutesy eyes.

“There was one of Seth too,” Dick said after fastening the seat belt again. “But I think this one looks more like a dog. If you don't like it please don't throw it in the trash.”

“I'm not that thoughtless, the design it's ludicrous but I can see the intent.”

Damian couldn't understand why Grayson seemed to find his words comical every so often, but Dick smiled like he just told a joke and ruffled his hair for the second time that day.

The Anubis plush ended up placed over Damian's nightstand, becoming his new companion in his silent sorrow.

Although Pennyworth was more permissive than the first time around and let Damian get away with a lot of things, a patrolling schedule with breaks every third day was non-negotiable. Usually Damian found that to be an annoyance in the same category that homework was in, but for once he was looking for a good night of rest after day he had. That, of course, was an unsuccessful plan. He did his best to fall asleep but instead, his treacherous body decided that his time was best spend crying.

He had done so well over the course of the day, withstanding everything and not breaking even once, even if he faltered at times, but as soon as he was in the privacy of his room, lying on his bed and sheltered by the darkness of the night, he couldn't help but openly mourn for what he had lost like he rarely allowed himself to do. He was glad, oh so glad, exultant even, to have Alfred back, safe and sound, but the price was so excruciating.

Damian took a deep breath and moved his right arm that until now had been covering his eyes, he opened them and the darkness welcomed him. He couldn't know how much time passed while he laid there, looking at the ceiling, incapable of distinguish anything, but at some point the grief gave way to something close to wrath. He furiously wiped his tears with both hands, sitting up abruptly while still looking upwards.

The price was agonizing and he would pay it a thousand times! Crushed, brokenhearted, bested, tormented, none of that mattered! Damian was a king, a general and his own entire army, he didn't chose this outcome while trying to rectify his worst sin, but he was going to make the Fates fall at his feet all the same.

And if he has to spend sleepless nights looking at the ceiling, he might as well do something about that too.

⪻Chapter 16

Chapter 18⪼

PS. Damian's translation is a patchwork from Margaret Murray's translations published in Ancient Egyptian Religious Poetry.

Reference for the plushie:

#f.r.w.#chap17

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feanorianethicsdepartment · 3 years ago

Note

Alright, I read your recent post and need to know - what is your interpretation of Maglor’s relationship with the twins?

askjdhslkjag my biggest self-inflicted problem in this fandom is that my take on maglor, elrond, and elros' relationship is so intensely detailed and specific i am forever tormented by none of the fic i read ever quite getting it right (from my perspective; i’ve read plenty of fic that presents a good interpretation on their own terms, it’s just never mine.) it’s simultaneously way darker than the fluffy kidnap dads stuff and nowhere near as black-and-white awful as the anti-fëanorian crowd likes to paint it, it’s messy and complicated and surrounded by darkness, and yet there’s also a sincere connection within it which mostly serves to make all those complications worse. angry teenage elrond is angry for a great many reasons, and the circumstances around him being raised by kinslayers account for at least half of them. there’s lots of complexity here, and i don’t see it in fic nearly as often as i’d like

(warning: the post... feathers? i already have an internet friend called faeiri this could be awkward - anyway, the post she’s talking about includes the line ‘everyone is wrong about kidnap dads except me.’ this post follows on from that in being as much a commentary about why various popular interpretations of both how the kidnapdoption went and the way people subsequently characterise the twins just don’t work for me as it is a setting out of my own ideas. i’m not really interested in getting into discourse here, i’m just trying to get my thoughts down. i’ve read fic with these interpretations before that i’ve liked, even, don’t take this as a Condemnation, aight? also this turned out long as hell, so i’m putting it under a cut)

i can never buy entirely fluffy depictions of kidnap dads

which isn’t to say i don’t read them! sometimes all i want is something sweet, for these kids to get to be happy for once. it’s not like i think their time with the fëanorians was completely devoid of laughter

it’s just. the pet names, the special days out, the home-cooked meals, it can get so treacly it stops feeling like the characters they are in the situation they’re in and turns into Generic Found Family #272

it soaks out all the complexity - which is the thing i am here for - and acts like oh, these kids were never in any danger, they were perfectly happy being abducted by the people who murdered everyone they knew, there’s nothing possibly questionable about this relationship at all

and... yeah. that’s not the characters i know. that’s not the context i know they belong to

i just can’t forget the circumstances that led them to meet

rivers of blood, the air filled with screams, a town ablaze, a woman choosing to die. every interaction the three of them have is going to proceed from that nightmare

(sidenote: i tend to hold it was maglor that raised the twins, with maedhros looming ominously in the background not really getting involved. it’s mostly personal preference, i’ve been in and out of the fandom since before this kidnap dads thing blew up and when i joined that was a perfectly standard reading)

(also the cave thing was a dumb idea, old man, if only because it implies beleriand had streams safe enough for children to play in at that point. the way it separates the twins from the third kinslaying is also something i don’t particularly vibe with)

probably my least favourite angle i’ve seen on the situation (edged out only by ‘maglor was actively abusive towards the twins’ which no no no no no no no no NO) is the idea that maglor (and/or maedhros, append as necessary) took the twins specifically to raise them

like, i get where it’s coming from, but it makes maglor come off as really creepy

(i have read fics where it is indeed played off as really creepy, but that’s not a maglor i have any interest in reading about)

(’mags 100% bad’ is just as facile a take to me as ‘mags 100% good’)

even if you’re saying maglor took them in because they had no one left to take care of them - i highly doubt they were the only children the fëanorians orphaned at sirion. idk, it always makes maglor seem much less sympathetic than i think it’s meant to

i prefer to think of it as more... organic? something that evolved, not something that was preordained. them growing closer gradually, the twins finding an adult who might maybe be on their side, maglor becoming invested in them almost by accident

and then the twins are so comfortable with the second scariest monster in amon ereb they frequently sass him off and maglor’s gotten so used to not hurting them he’s not even thinking about it any more. no one’s quite sure how it happened, but they’ve made a Connection

‘wait aren’t they a murderous warlord of questionable mental stability and a pair of terrified small children who’ve lost everyone they ever knew? isn’t that kinda fucked up?’ yup! that’s the point! complexity!

another idea i don’t like is the idea that maglor was an objectively better parent to the twins than eärendil or elwing

other people have talked about this already, i won’t rehash the whole thing. i will say that while i don’t think elwing was a perfect parent - someone so young, in such a horrible situation, i wouldn’t blame her for screwing up - i do think she (and eärendil) did the best by them they possibly could

this is one of the few things they have in common with maglor

something i come across now and again is the idea that sure, elwing and eärendil weren’t abusive or horrible or anything, but they were a couple of basically-teenagers with so many other responsibilities, there was only so much they could do. maglor, on the other hand, is an experienced adult who could take much better care of the twins

and...

first off, it’s not like mags doesn’t have a job. he’s a warlord, he has a fortress to help run, military shit to handle, lots of other stuff that needs to get done to stop everyone from starving or getting eaten by orcs. i feel like sirion had enough of a government there was plenty of opportunity for elwing to take days off and play with her kids, but in the fëanorian camp nobody really has the time to chase after a couple of toddlers, least of all one of the last points on the command network. they just don’t have the people any more

(seriously, the twins getting a formal education with tutors and classes and shit is a weirdly specific pet peeve of mine. this is a band of renegades, not a royal household; if there’s anyone left with those kinds of skills they almost certainly have more important things to do)

more than that, though - well, a quick glance through my late stage fëanorians tag should tell you a lot about what i think maglor’s mental state is like at this point. he is so accustomed to violence death means nothing to him, he’s lost most of his capacity for genuinely positive emotion to an endless century of defeat and despair, he hates everything in the universe, especially himself, he’s only able to keep functioning through a truly astounding amount of denial, and he covers it all up with a layer of snark and feigned apathy, which he defends aggressively because he’s subconsciously realised that if it breaks he’ll have absolutely nothing left

(maedhros, for the record, is... i’d say more stable, but at a lower point. maglor may interact with the world mostly through cold stares and mocking laughter, but at least his mind is firmly rooted in the present)

(on the other hand, at least maedhros lets himself be aware of what they are and where their road will lead)

which... this doesn’t mean maglor doesn’t try to be kind to the twins, or rein in his worst impulses around them

there’s just so little of him left but the weapon

he stalks through the halls like a portent of death and gets into hours-long screaming matches with maedhros and has definitely killed people in front of the twins

not even as, like, a deliberate attempt to scare them, but because when you solve most of your problems by stabbing them it’s pretty much a given that people who spend a lot of time around you are going to see you do it at least once

and sometimes, he curls up in an empty hallway, and weeps

... suffice it to say i don’t think elwing’s the more preoccupied, or the less mentally ill, parent here

just. in general, the fëanorians aren’t cackling boogeymen, but they’re not particularly nice either

no one has the energy left for that. not these isolated and weary soldiers at the end of a long losing war and the beginning of the end of the world. they don’t really bother to guard the kids against them escaping. where else are they going to go?

the sheer despair that must have been in the fëanorian camp after sirion, the knowledge that the cause cannot be fulfilled, that they are utterly forsaken, that they’re really just waiting to die -

it can’t have been a happy place to grow up in, under the shadow of loss and grief and deeds unrepentable, and the slow march of inevitable defeat

they would have had a better childhood if they stayed in sirion, raised by people who knew how to hope

but that isn’t the childhood they had. and despite everything i’ve said, i don’t think that childhood was an entirely awful one

yeah, see, this is where the other side of my self-inflicted fandom catch-22 comes in. just as much of the pro-kidnap dads stuff comes off as overly saccharine and simplified to me, i find much of the anti-kidnap dads stuff equally simplistic in the opposite direction

the idea that maglor and the fëanorians never meant anything to elros and elrond, that they had no effect on the people they became at all, that it was just a horrible thing that happened when they were children, easily thrown in the rear-view mirror...

that’s even more impossible to me than the idea that life with the fëanorians was 100% fluffy and nice

like, i’ve seen the take that elros and elrond hated the fëanorians from start to finish. they were perfect little sindarin princes, loyal to their people and the memory of doriath, spurning every scrap of kindness offered to them and knowing just what to say to twist the knife into the kinslayers’ wounds

... dude. they were six. hell, given their peredhelness, mentally they could easily have been younger

what six year old has a firm grasp of their ethnic identity? what six year old is fully aware of their place in history? what six year old would understand the politics that led to their situation?

don’t get me wrong, i can see hatred in there. but something else that doesn’t get acknowledged alongside it often enough is the fear

some of the stuff i’ve read feels like it gives the kids too much power in the situation. they’re perfectly happy to talk back to and belittle the people who burned down their hometown and killed everyone they ever knew, like miniature adults who don’t feel threatened at all

and, like, six. i can see them going for insults as a defensive measure, but it is defensive. it’s covering up fear, not coming from secure disdain

(and a lot of those insults sound, again, like things an adult who’s already familiar with the fëanorians would say, not a scared child who’s lost almost everything. why would a six year old raised by sindar and gondolindrim know what the noldolantë is, let alone what it means to maglor?)

(... i’m just ranting about this one fic that’s been ruffling my feathers for five years straight now, aren’t i)

i mean, i write elrond as the world’s angriest teenager, who snipes at maglor pretty much constantly, but the thing about angry teenage elrond is that he’s angry teenage elrond

he’s spent long enough with the fëanorians he has a pretty secure position within the camp, and he knows that maglor won’t hurt him from a decade and change of maglor not, in fact, hurting him

but as a small and terrified child abducted by the monsters his mother had nightmares about? he fluctuated wildly between ‘randomly guessing at things to say that wouldn’t get him killed’ ‘screaming at maglor to go away in words rarely more complicated than that’ 'desperately trying not to do or say anything in the hopes of not being noticed’ and ‘hiding’

(and i don’t think the twins were never in any danger from the fëanorians, either. quite besides the point that before they started orbiting maglor nobody was really sure what to do with them... well, they wouldn’t be the first children of thingol’s line the minions took revenge on)

(fortunately for them, maglor did, in fact, take them under his wing. by this point even their own followers are shit scared of the last two sons of fëanor, nobody’s going to mess with their stuff and risk getting mauled. tactically, it was a pretty good decision for a couple of toddlers)

more to the point, i feel like a child that young, in a situation that horrible, wouldn’t reject any kindness they were offered, any soothing touch in a universe of terror

in a world full of big scary monsters, the best way to survive is to get the biggest scariest monster possible to protect you. that’s how elros rationalises it when they’re, like, eight, mentally, but at the time they were just latching on to the only person around them who seemed to care about them

that’s how it started, on their end. two very young very scared children lost in a neverending nightmare clinging tightly to the lone outstretched pair of hands

as for maglor...

i’ve called mags evil before, but i see that as more of a... technical term? he is evil because he did the murder, he remains evil because he won’t stop doing the murder. hot take: murder bad

but that doesn’t make him, like, a moustache-twirling saturday morning cartoon villain. he is deeply unhappy with the position he’s in and the person he’s become, and he’s always trying not to take that final step over the edge

it’s not that i can’t see a maglor who is abusive or manipulative or who sees the twins more as objects than people. it’s just that that characterisation is one i am profoundly uninterested in. i do occasionally read fic with it, but it never enters my own headcanons

horrible people can do good things!! kinslayers can do good things!! the fallen are capable of humanity!! people can do both good and evil things at the same time, because people are complicated!! maglor is not psychologically incapable of actually taking pity on these kids!!!!

it’s... again, complexity. the fëanorians straddle the line between black and white, which is a lot less sharp in the legendarium than it’s sometimes characterised as. it’s what draws me to their characters so much, why i have so many stupid headcanons about them. pretending they fall firmly on either side of the line is my real fandom pet peeve

and, like, this moment? this sincere connection between a bloodstained warlord and two children who will grow up to be great and kind in equal measure? i may not entirely like the direction the fandom’s taken it recently, but that beat, that relationship, it still gets me

so no, i don’t think elrond and elros’ years with the fëanorians were an endless cavalcade of abuse and misery. i think there was love there, despite the darkness all around them

an old, tired monster, and the two tiny children it protects

maglor never hurts the twins, not ever, not once. his claws are sharp and his fangs are keen, if he so much as swatted them he’d rip them in half. instead he folds down the razor edges of his being, interacting with them ever so carefully. he has nightmares of suddenly tearing into their skin

seriously, the power differential between them is so great, maglor so much as raising his voice would break any trust they have in this horribly dangerous creature. fics where he does corporal punishment always get the side-eye from me

the mood of their relationship is... i find it hard to put into words. melancholy, maybe, like a sunny afternoon a few days before the end of the world. three people who’ve lost so much finding what respite they can in each other as the world slowly crumbles around them

there are times when it feels like the three of them exist in a world of their own, marked out by the edges of the firelight. maglor telling stories of the stars, elros giving relaxed irreverent commentary, elrond getting a few moments to just be, all their troubles kept at bay

they are the last two lights in a world sunk into darkness, the last two living beings he does not on some level hate. he will tear his own heart out before he sees them in pain

he teaches them to ride, he teaches them to read, he gives them everything he still has left. the twins should never have been in this situation, maglor probably isn’t entirely fit to take care of them, but it is what it is, and they take what love they can

(maglor depends on the twins emotionally a bit more than any adult should rely on any child. he’s still very much the caretaker in their relationship, but that relationship is the only one he has left that’s not stained by a century of rage and grief. he’s obsessed with them, maedhros tells him frequently. maglor’s standard response to this is to try to gouge maedhros’ eyes out)

(that particular darker side to their relationship, where maglor’s attachment to the twins turns into a desperate possessiveness - that’s not something i think i’ve ever seen in fic. which is a shame, it feels much closer to my own characterisation than the standard ways this relationship gets maleficised. darker, in a different way than usual. horribly compelling in its plausibility)

however you want to read it, i don’t think you can deny this is a relationship that defines elrond and elros’ childhood. they were raised in the woods by a pack of kinslayers, the text is quite clear on this

but i’ve seen a lot of talk about how elros and elrond are only sirion’s children. they are completely 100% sindarin, they love and forgive eärendil and elwing thoroughly and without question, they identify with doriath over - even gondolin, let alone tirion. the fëanorians - the people who raised them - had zero effect on the people they grew into and the selves they created

and that, more than anything else, i find utterly unbelievable

look, i get what this is a reaction to. a lot of the kidnap dads stuff paints the fëanorians as elrond and elros’ ‘real’ family, and i’ve already talked about what i think of the idea that maglor-and-possibly-also-maedhros were better parents than eärendil and elwing. i think it’s reductive and overly optimistic and just a little too neat

but to say instead that elrond and elros held no great love in their hearts for maglor, no lingering affinity with the fëanorians, no influence on their identity from the people they grew up around, none at all? that after it happened they just left it behind and resumed being the same people they were in sirion?

that strikes me as just as much an oversimplification. it sands down all the potential rough edges of their identity, all that inconvenient complexity that stops them from fitting into any well-defined box, and replaces it with a nice safe simple self-conception i find just as flat and boring as declaring them 100% fëanorian

we can quibble over who they call ‘father’ (i personally find that whole debate kinda petty) but denying that it was actually maglor who was the closest thing they knew to a parent for most of their childhoods, and that that would, in fact, affect the way they thought of themselves and their family, elides so many interesting possibilities out of existence

(i’m not even going to get into the most braindead take i have ever heard on the subject, namely that because their time with the fëanorians was such a small fraction of elrond’s total lifespan it was like being kidnapped for two weeks as a toddler and had no greater significance than that. do you not understand what childhood is????)

like, i tend to think of elrond as a child as being very loudly not-a-fëanorian. elros is more willing to go with the flow - hey, if the creepy kinslayer wants kids, elros is happy to play into that in order to not be murdered - but elrond is very firm that he’s not happy to be here and he doesn’t belong with them

(this is after they get over their initial terror, of course, when they’ve realised they won’t be fed to the orcs for the tiniest slight. even so, elrond only really gets shirty about it around people he’s comfortable with, whose reactions he can reasonably guess at. naturally, the first person he does it to is maglor)

elros calls maglor their father exactly once, when they’re... maybe early preteens? this is because elrond hears him do it and immediately loses his shit. they have a dad, elrond says, in tears, and a mum, and any day now their real parents are going to come to pick them up and take them home

... right?

it gets harder to believe as the years roll on, as their memories of sirion fade, as they find their own places within the host, as maglor watches over them as they grow. elrond still mentally sets himself apart from the fëanorians, but it’s more of an effort every year. life in the fëanorian camp is the only one he’s ever really known. he can barely remember his mother’s voice

then the war of wrath starts, and the fëanorian host drifts closer to the army of valinor, and the twins come into contact with non-fëanorians for the first time in forever, and it becomes clear just how obviously fëanorian elrond is. he always insisted he wasn’t like the kinslayers at all, but he dresses like them, talks like them, fights like them

the myth cycles the edain tell are almost completely unfamiliar to him, he barely remembers the shape of the songs of lost doriath. even these sarcastic commentary and subversive reinterpretations he made of maglor’s stories - those were still maglor’s stories! he’s been trying to guess at the person he was meant to be, but it’s growing nightmarishly blatant how little elrond ever knew about him

instead, the people he was born to are as alien to him as the orcs of morgoth. he is a fëanorian, through and through

... yeah, elrond (and/or elros) having an absolutely massive identity crisis upon being reintroduced to his quote-unquote ‘true kin’ is another angle i’d love to see in fic that i don’t think i’ve ever come across. all those potential grey areas around who they are and who they’re supposed to be sound utterly fascinating, and i think it’s the complexity i hate to see elided over the most

i really, really doubt they could effortlessly slot back into being eärendil and elwing’s children. not when they’ve been surrounded by, lived alongside, been raised by the people who were supposed to enemies for most of their lives

they just don’t fit into that box any more. they can’t

speaking of eärendil and elwing, while i do agree that they both (especially elwing) get a lot more flak than they deserve, i don’t agree that therefore elrond and elros were never the slightest bit mad at them and fully forgave them for everything with no reservations

because, well, they were left behind. elwing had no other choice, but they were still left behind; it led to the world being saved, but they were still left behind. all the best intentions in the universe don’t erase the weeks and months and years of waiting, of a hope that grew thinner and frailer until it finally quietly broke

that’s a real hurt, and a real grievance. even if the twins rationally understand that their parents were making the best out of their terrible situation, you can’t logic away emotions like that. it’s perfectly possible for them to know they have no reason to resent eärendil or elwing, and yet still harbour that bitterness and pain

(i did write a thing once where elrond loudly rejects eärendil as his father in favour of maglor, but something i didn’t add in that i probably should have is that elrond later regretted doing that)

(not like, several centuries later, when he’d grown old and wise. two hours later, when he’d calmed down. but he was still legitimately angry at eärendil, because the one thing angry teenage elrond was not lacking in was reasons to be mad at the adults around him, and before he could figure out if he had anything less furious to say the hosts of the valar left middle-earth behind)

(it’s another element to the tragedy of the whole thing. in that particular story, which is mostly aiming for maximum pain, the only thing elrond’s birth parents know about their son for thousands of years is that he hates them)

(and he doesn’t, not really. you can’t hate someone you’ve never known)

not that i think they couldn’t ever make up with their parents! fics where elrond and his birth parents work past all the things that lie between them and form a functional familial bond despite it all give me life. i just don’t like the idea that there’s nothing difficult for them to work past

i don’t like the idea that elrond and elros would naturally, effortlessly identify with the mother they last saw when they were six and the people they only vaguely remember. i can see them doing it as a political move, i can see them going for it as a deliberate personal choice, but i can’t seeing it being immediate and automatic and easy

no matter how great a pair of heroes eärendil and elwing are, that doesn’t change the fact that to elrond and elros, they’re at most a few scattered memories and a collection of far-off stories. and so long as the twins stay in middle-earth, they’re never going to draw any closer

compared to the dynamic, multifaceted, personal, and deep bonds they have with the fëanorians - who, and i know i keep saying this but i think it gets tossed aside way more casually than it should, are the people who actually raised them, their birth parents must feel like a distant idea

and that’s why i can never buy interpretations of elrond as 100% sindarin, a pure son of doriath, with no messy grey areas or awkward jagged edges to his identity. given everything we know about his life, it seems almost cartoonishly simplistic

honestly it seems like a narrative a bunch of old doriathrin nobles trying to manouevre elrond into being high king of the sindar or something would propagate. it's neat and nice and tidy, something that’d be much more convenient for everyone if elrond did feel that way

but i just don’t see how he can. this narrative is easy and simple in a way real people never are, it ignores all the forces pulling him apart. elrond being uncomplicatedly sindarin with the life he lives and the people he's close to - that doesn’t make any sense to me

which isn’t to say i think he’s 100% noldorin, from either a gondolindrim or a fëanorian perspective. (i find it a little more believable, given, again, who he grew up around and who he hangs out with, but it’s still a bit too reductive for my tastes.) it’s also not to say i couldn’t believe an elrond who made an active choice to emphasise his sindarin heritage

it’s not how i think of him, but it works. i don’t have a problem with other people interpreting the complexities of the twins’ identities differently

i just have a problem with people acting like it doesn’t exist

in general i think there’s a lot untapped potential that gets left behind when you declare the twins, separately or together, as All One Thing

they’re descended from half the noble houses of beleriand, and they have deep personal ties to most of the rest. they belong to all of the free peoples even the dwarves, somehow, probably and i feel like that was kind of the old man’s point? so many peoples meet in them, to say they wholly belong to any one species is probably an oversimplification

they sit at a crossroads of potential identities, and rather than narrowing down their worldviews to one single path, they take the hard road and choose all of them. that’s what you need to do, if you want to change the world

and, to bring this back to my ostensible topic, in my estimation at least this mélange of possible selves does include them as fëanorians! it’s not overpowering, but it’s certainly there, and the adults they grow into long after they’ve left the host still bear influence from their childhood

nothing super obvious, nothing that wouldn’t stand out if you didn’t know what to look for, but there’s something almost incandescent in how fiercely elros reaches out for his dreams

there’s something almost defiant in elrond’s drive to be as kind as summer

as for who they publically claim as their family... honestly, it depends. while it’s usually more tactically prudent for elros to connect himself to his various human ancestors, on occasion he does find a use for his free in with the elf mafia, and elrond, code switcher par excellence, is famously the son of whoever is most politically convenient at the moment, which is rarely, but not never, maglor

(in the privacy of their own minds, well, eärendil and elwing may have been the parents elros was supposed to have, but maglor was the parent he actually had, and elros doesn’t particularly care to mope over what might have been. elrond, for his part, figures that after all the shit maglor has put him through, the least that bastard owes him is a father)

but honestly? i think before any of their mountain of identities, before thinking of themselves as sindarin or gondolindel or hadorian or haladin or fëanorian or anything, elrond and elros identify as themselves

they are peredhil, they are númenóreans, they are whoever they make themselves to be. that’s how elrond finally resolved his identity, figured out who he was and found something past the pain and the rage

he wasn’t doriathrin, or gondolindrin, or falathrin, or fëanorian, or whatever else. he was elrond, no more and no less

and that person, elrond, could be whatever he chose to be

... elros came to a similar conclusion, with much less sturm und drang that he’s willing to admit. being able to go ‘hey, i can’t possibly be biased towards any one of your cultures, because i’m descended from all of you and i was raised by murderelves’ makes it a lot easier to unite people around your personal banner, turns out

the stories other people tried to force on them shattered into pieces, and the peredhel twins were free to shape themselves into anything they could dream of

and as the new world struggles alive, these lost children of an Age of death begin to bloom into their full glorious selves -

i just. i love the poetry of that. despite every single shadow that hangs over their past, despite all the clashing notes pulling them apart, they harmonise it all into a greater, kinder theme, determined to make their world a better place in whatever way they can

they fail, of course, but so do all things. the inevitable march of entropy doesn’t diminish the long millennia they (and their descendants) held onto the light

and their growing up in the fëanorian host definitely had a huge effect on the noble lords they became. you can see it in elros’ loud ambition to create a land of happiness and hope, elrond’s quiet resolve to heal all the hurts inflicted by this marred reality

it wasn’t a perfect time by any means, but neither was it a nightmare. it was what it was, a desperate existence at the edge of a knife where, nevertheless, they were loved

even after years upon decades upon centuries have passed, it’s hard for the wise king and the honourable sage to separate out and identify all the conflicting emotions swirling around their childhood. they never knew eärendil or elwing, true, but they also never really knew maglor

not as equals, not as adults, not as people who could truly understand him. he disappeared into the fog of history, leaving only childhood memories of razor-sharp, gentle hands

it’s messy and it’s complicated and getting any real closure would be like shoving their way through a thornbush with bare hands even if elrond could find the shithead, and yet at the core of it all, there is light. not the brightest of lights, maybe, but an enduring one

that contrast, above all, that note of warmth amidst the shadows, is what fascinates me so much about their relationship. three screwed up people in a screwed up world, finding a little peace with each other

and the fact that somehow, it does have a good ending - the children grow up magnificent and compassionate and just, they become exemplars of all their peoples, lodestars of the new world born out of the ashes of the old - that makes it seem to me like this relationship must have contained some fragment of happiness

but, fuck, all the darkness that surrounds that love, all the tangled-up emotions its existence necessitates, all the prefabricated self-identities it can never slot into - nothing about it is simple, nothing about it is easy, and i find that utterly enthralling. especially how, despite everything, that flickering light never goes out

well, i don’t think it does, anyway. my take on this relationship is both complicated enough no one else ever quite gets it right and well-defined enough every single ‘error’ in other people’s interpretations sticks out like a kinslayer in rivendell

it is an entirely self-inflicted problem, i will admit. other people are allowed to interpret those complexities differently from me, and it’s entirely my own fault i lack the :waves hands around nebulously: to write my own hypothetical fic on the subject at a pace faster than glacial

still, though. i do wish there was more fic out there that engaged with these complexities. a lot of the common fandom interpretations of this relationship just sweep it all away

#ask #my terrible headcanons #elros #elrond #maglor #elwing #earendil #feanorians #niphredilien #yellow feathered faerie #putting your old url in the tags for archival purposes #post nyanyannya askbox clearout #ironically it turned out almost as long as the songfic that clogged up my askbox in the first place #and it is DONE #fuck this took forever to write #stayed up late just to get it out the door so i don't have to think about it any more #this is a long ramble and i'm pretty sure the end is just me repeating myself ad nausem sorry #i'll admit to a certain pro-feanorian bias in my interpretation #but i also don't want elros and elrond to just. live in a neverending horrorshow for decades #the silm's cruel enough we don't need that #narratively i feel like elrond being All Of The Elves is a good mirror for elros being All Of The Humans #but it didn't really fit the angle i was going for #bleck #let's see how many followers i lose for this

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hyunsuks-beanie · 3 years ago

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It'll Always Be You

Lee Felix × reader; angst, but with a fluffy ending; 2923 words; lovers to exes and back

A/N So Felix has me feeling all sorts of things today, bc of how good he looked during the performance. So here's a scenario for our Sunshine!

"Here's your order and have a nice day," you smile to the female customer in front of you, before handing a pack of cookies to her child. Once the leave, you let out a sigh and look at your best friend who's cleaning the counter next to you. "All done for today!," you exclaim, to which your friend looks up and smiles, before taking off and folding her apron. "So, what are your plans for tonight?," she asks, making you give her a knowing look. She to her eyes before saying, "How long are you gonna stay cooped up inside your house? The break up was two years ago for heaven's sake, you need to start living your life again." "Hey, I am living my life, it's just that, unlike you, I am not interested in going out and meeting new people every day. I meet enough strangers while working here, so there's no need to go clubbing daily," you shrug.

When all she does in reply is pout, you chuckle and say, "Okay, how about we go for a movie tomorrow? My treat." Her face lights up at that, and she gives you a tight hug before saying, "I really want to meet your ex once though, just so I can break his nose." You giggle "Oh he's dead and gone."

Oh, if only you knew.

Once you send your friend off, you start tidying up your little bakery up. This was the place that helped you get over your breakup, which had been messy to say the least. You had immersed yourself fully in your work, because you knew it was one thing that would never hurt you or break your trust.

You sigh lovingly at the memories of setting up and running your bakery, turning your back against the front door. And just as you are reminiscing you hear the door open, causing you to turn. The moment you do so, however, you regret it, because standing there, staring at you wide-eyed, is your ex, otherwise known as Stray Kids' Lee Felix. You both continue to stare at each other for a while, before he finally breaks the silence (and your trance) by whispering, "Y/N."

You clear your throat, and say, "I'm sorry, but we're closed for the day." He rushes to the and hurriedly replies, "Please, it's rather urgent. My friend Hyunjin is really craving some blueberry pie, and he refuses fo join practice before I bring him what he wants." "I told you, I'm sorry, but I can't help you today. You can come back tomorrow though," you say, not looking into his eyes. "Please Y/N, Chan hyung is getting really angry, he's gonna ground me along with Hyunjin," Felix reasons, and you find yourself giving in to his pleading eyes and pouty lips.

"Fine, wait a minute," you say, making him crack a smile. Boy have you missed that smile of his, you think, before mentally slapping yourself for still not being able to resist him, even though he broke your heart to pieces when he broke up with you over the phone two years ago, telling you that he could no longer do long distance with you being all the way in Australia. It wasn't the breakup that hurt you though, it was the fact that he had found someone better and closer to him, or so he said.

Little did you know, though, that the company had he had never really found anyone else, that he didn't want to find anyone else. The company had made him lie to you when they came to know he was secretly dating. He tried to put up a fight, but the company started threatening him about the group facing consequences. He knew you'd see right through him if he told you the truth, so he had to lie to you in order to make you hate him, just so you could move on in life. He meant well, but he never knew he hurt you so bad that you'd give up on dating and love altogether.

"Here you go," you say while handing him his parcel. He thanks you, while contemplating if he should make small talk. Mustering up the courage, he asks, "How have you been?", while looking down. "Fine," you reply, "Congrats on the comeback." His head snaps up at that, as he says, "I didn't know you knew I had a comeback," "It was all over the news, Felix. Stray Kids are really making it big," you swallow before adding, "Your partner must be really proud of you," complete with a fake smile plastered on your face.

Felix winces at your words, not knowing what to say. In the end, he settles with, "How long have you been running this bakery?" "Since about a month after we broke up." When he gives you a confused expression, you sigh and add, "I was kinda already about to move to Seoul when you told me that you had found someone else. I was gonna surprise you, but you ended up surprising me instead."

"Y/N, I-I never knew. I'm so sorry, I-," he says, but you cut him off. "I-I t-think you should leave," you say, with tears threatening to spill. "Let me explain, please. I swear I'll come clean, please, just give me a chance." "No Felix, I can't give you any chance, you blew it up when you hurt me so bad that it made scared of ever loving again. Please.....j-just go," you say, shutting your eyes close. Dejected, he turns around to leave, but not before saying, "I'm sorry," one more time. Once he leaves, you sink down to the floor, crying. "Why did you have to ruin me so bad?," You whisper.

You don't, however, notice that just outside the door, Felix too, is crying hysterically as he gets into his car.

Upon reaching the JYP building, Felix rushes to the washroom to try and dry his eyes and hide any signs that he's been crying. "I still love you. I never stopped, but gosh, why did I have to be such an idiot to let you go? And that too, in the worst way possible?," he says to his reflection in the mirror, thinking back to your broken expression. Slamming his fist against the sink, he curses at himself.

Once he's finally sobered up a little, Felix goes back to the practice room to give Hyunjin his pie. Though he has half a mind to just call in sick and go home and weep, he knows the group needs him. "Here you go, Hyun," he forces a smile onto his face when Hyunjin thanks him. Chan notices his slumped shoulders, but shrugs it off as tiredness. "Now that everyone is satisfied, can we get back to practice?," he asks. Once all the boys agree, rehearsals begin again, but Felix can't find it in himself to focus. He keeps making mistakes, which finally results in Chan stopping the music, grabbing his hand, and taking him out the practice room and to his studio.

"What is it, Lix? You've been distracted ever since you came back from the bakery. Come on, I know something is bothering you, it isn't like you to lose focus. Tell me what it is," Chan says, sternly but gently, his concern for the younger boy evident. "It's nothing, hyung. I'm just tired," Felix tries to evade the question, but Chan presses on. "I'm not buying that, and I'm not gonna have you distracted during performances or practices, either. I can't risk you injuring yourself or any of the boys, so I'm saying again. Spit. It. Out. Leader's orders."

Felix sighs, running a hand through his hair. After a pause, he finally says, "I saw Y/N today. The bakery, it is owned by them." Chan's eyes go wide at this, since he's the only one who knows the circumstances under which you both broke up, and is also the only one who knows about how much Felix regrets letting you go, in the worst possible way. "What happened? Were they....rude to you? Or did they do something?" "What? No hyung, they were nothing but nice to me. We made small talk, and they told me that they were planning to surprise me by moving to Seoul, when I broke up with them. I hurt them so bad that they are scared of ever loving again," Felix says, taking shaky breaths between sentences as tears welled up in his eyes again.

"I messed up so bad hyung, you know I still love them. They're the nicest, most perfect, most lovable person I've ever known, and I damaged them so badly, gosh I feel so guilty," he breaks down again, causing Chan to wrap his arms around him, giving him a shoulder to cry on. Once Felix calms down, Chan says, "You know what you have to do now, right?" "What do you mean?"

"You say you still love them. You say you're guilty. But instead of telling these things to me, you need to tell this to them. Apologize to them, tell them the whole story. Tell them there was never anyone else, and that it's always been them. You didn't fight for them back then, because you were worried for us. But you can fight for them now, because we got your back. Win them back, Lix. Make up for your mistake."

"B-but hyung, why would they ever want to take me back again? I've been nothing but a jerk to them." "Well, in that case, you can't blame them. But they deserve to at least know the truth. They deserve to know that your intentions were not wrong. If they choose to walk away after that, they will at least have had gotten closure. Who knows, it might help them muster the courage to go out and love again. You owe this to them, Lix."

Chan succeeded in knocking some sense into Felix, as the next day, the younger boy found himself in front of your bakery, preparing a long speech explaining why he did what he did to you. He's so engrossed in his thoughts that he doesn't notice your best friend walk out the bakery and stand next to him. "Uhm, are you okay?," she asks, surprising him. "O-oh, uh-uhm, yeah," says Felix, while noticing her uniform, that's identical to yours. "Do you work with Y/N?" "Yeah, we're friends and partners, and on most days, we work together. But they called in sick today, and told me they'd cover the evening shift. How do you know them though?"

To this, Felix finds himself at a loss for words, but he figures if he's gonna come clean to you, he needs an ally. And what better person than your best friend? So he takes down his mask slightly, making your friend gasp in response. "You Felix from Stray Kids! What are you doing here?" "I-I came here to meet Y/N. We broke up two years ago due to a mistake I made, but I need to explain things to them. They deserve to know the truth." He looks up to see your friend glaring at him, as she says, "That was you? You broke my best friend's heart? How could you? I'm not letting you anywhere near them, you jerk"

"Please, just give me 5 minutes, and I'll explain everything to you. Then you can decide if I deserve one more chance." When your friend doesn't say anything, Felix launches into his own version of things, explaining himself and his actions. Once he's done, your friend is still glaring at him, but he notices a smile tugging at her lips.

"You have been nothing but a complete and utter jerk to them. And honestly, you deserve to get your ass kicked by them. But I know that they still love you, and the way you are repenting what you did tells me that you love them too. So I give you my blessing. They'll be here in the evening at 6, be here before then." Felix hugs her super tight at that, with the biggest smile plastered on his face while thanking her. She adds, "But if you hurt them again, I swear I'm gonna murder you with my own two hands." "It won't come to that, I promise."

Felix arrives at the bakery at 10 minutes to six, and the moment he enters, your friend shoves him into the kitchen, asking him to stay there till you come. Once she leaves, he starts pacing up and down, raking his hand nervously through his hair. He tries to prepare what he is going to say, but gives up when he realizes that it would all go out the window when he sees you.

Meanwhile, the moment you step inside the bakery, your friend pretends to be busy setting stuff up on the counter, and asks you to bring in some things from the kitchen. Unassuming, you start walking towards the kitchen doors, when she notices your swollen eyes and exclaimed "Babe, have you been crying?" You muster up a fake smile and tell him that it's just you not feeling well, but unknown to you, Felix heard your friend, and guilt washes over him again. But he doesn't have time to wallow in it, as soon after, you step in.

The way your expression morphs into one of pure sadness breaks his heart into a million pieces, and when you say, "What more do you want from me?" while holding back tears, it takes everything in him to stop from falling to his knees and begging forgiveness. He tries to speak, but you hold up a finger, indicating you aren't finished. "Now that you've found me again, was it not enough for you to have me admit that what you did to me made me stop believing in love? Do you even want to rub it in my face by telling me how happy your are with your partner? If that is so, then please, just get lost, I'm begging you."

Tears are now streaming down your face, and Felix finds himself saying, "Just please. Let me explain. You deserve to know the truth and my feelings and intentions. If after that, you want me to leave, I swear, you will never have to see me again." You can't look at him, but when you don't reply, he says, "I promise that this is the real truth behind what I did. Please hear me out. I lied when I said I had found someone else. There is no 'someone else,' and there never will be one. The only person I've loved, the only person I still love, is you. It'll always be you."

"The company made me break up with you, and threatened me that the group will face consequences if I didn't do as they had asked. I that that if I outright told you the real reason, it would hurt you. And so, I decided to lie to you in order to make you hate me, even if it broke my heart. But never did I ever think that it would damage you so badly, and I know I've been stupid, but I can't help but ask for you to forgive me, and give me one last chance. I know I've been a total jerk to you, and even now, I'm being nothing but selfish, but I just want you to know that I still love you. I'll understand if you want nothing to do with me, and I'll walk away forever. But you deserved to get closure, and I hope that if you do choose to give up on me, you will now be able to love again, and trust again."

By the time he stops talking, the both of you are sobbing hard. You ask him, "Are you done?" When he nods, you say, "You say that you will walk away if I choose to give up on you. But do you really think I'll be able to give up on you? If I couldn't stop loving you even when you broke up with me in the cruelest way possible, what makes you think I'll stop loving you now that I know that you went through the same pain as me? You knew what the truth was, and you still had to hide it. I can only imagine how hurtful that must have been, Felix. I hate myself for believing your stupid lie, for ever doubting the love you had for me. I'm sorry, and I forgive you."

Felix looks up at you, surprised. It takes him some time to process your words, and when he does, he asks you, "What does that mean....for us?" To this, you shyly reply, "Well, I never stopped loving you, and if you didn't either, then should we give us another try?" Felix smiles the brightest he has in ages, as he slowly comes closer to you. Cupping your face, he wipes off your tears, as you proceed to do the same. "I promise I'll never let you go again," he says softly. You giggle and say, "You'd do well to keep that promise," before biting your lip.

"Is it okay if I kiss you?," he asks. You nod in response, causing him to gently place his lips on yours. And for the first time in a while, you feel like you're home.

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years ago

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Tender Ch. 1 - Loki x Mute! Reader

Summary: Even though Loki doesn’t understand why the new member of the Avengers should be kind to him of all people, he doesn’t want you to stop either.

Warnings: Loki being depressed, the Avengers being kinda mean, mentions of Torture and Death

Words: ~2100

[Story Masterlist] [All of my Works]

All eyes were on him again.

As soon as Loki would step inside, the previously lively room would fall completely silent. Well, it’s not like he wasn’t used to being the involuntary kill-joy...

Usually, the God of Mischief craved attention, may it be positive or negative - most of the time being the latter. But lately, after months of having all those distrustful and hostile glares piercing holes into him, he’d rather wish for the ground to swallow him whole.

“Umm, so...I gotta go.” Natasha was the first one to flee the unpleasant atmosphere, not even putting the energy into mutter anything else than a cheap excuse on her way out. Clint wordlessly followed her close after, but not without shooting the Odinson one last, spiteful look.

Loki on the other hand was picking on his hands, a nervous habit he had inherited from his mother. As much as he tried to avoid meeting their eyes, the tensioned aura they were emitting making him feel close to breaking down completely - but he would never give them the satisfaction to witness this, he swore to himself.

And yet: Maybe he should just leave. Disappear, forever.

Although he’d never admit, Loki had grown very tired of his life following this stirr path, unable to diverge into a new direction. Everything he did would ultimately bring death and destruction upon mankind, inflicting fear in the hearts of all people.

His whole existence was based on being condemned to fail - just for others to reach their ‘glorius purpose’.

“Great” Tony scoffed. “Now they’re gone. Well done, prince of nothing.” Steve cut his friend off, clearing his throat very exaggeratedly.

The god still hadn’t moved from the doorframe of the conference room, while all others were already sitting on the oval-shaped table. He didn’t got what all that fuss was about. If Steve didn’t insist him to attend this emergency meeting, he’d just have gone about his usual business and avoided everyone as good as he could.

“C’mon, brother” Thor sighed, well knowing that if his brother was to stay in the team, it would ultimatively drive a wedge between them. All that pressure in the air was straining for everyone, including himself.

Tony on the other hand was pretty chill about everything, aside of being passive-aggressive. This was probably due to their similar coping styles.

Even though his near-death-experience back when he stopped the Chitauri was still eating on his mental health, he’d prefer glossing over it with stupid jokes and overly confident behaviour. “No sassy remark today, Reindeer Games?”

Stark was leaning back in his chair, arms crossed as he rose an eyebrow on the god, who only muttered a hoarse “No...not today.”

Yeah, it was kind of his style to break the unsettling silence through puny comments or self-glorifying speeches, to distract from his own insecurity.

But right now, he was just so damn tired.

Of this planet and it’s people, as well as the humiliating circumstances he had to dwell in. The fact that he was a prisoner at the Stark Tower, amongst his worst enemies. Being forced by his brother to keep up this meaningless act, as if he’d ever be seen as a team member or ally - when in reality, he was but a slave to the people he once ought to reign.

Just like back on Asgard: Never one of them, never belonging. No way to break free - for his true self was something to be loathed.

However, first and foremost the one thing he was especially tired of was himself, for he couldn’t get out of his own skin. Not only could he never be considered a hero, let alone be redeemed.

After all the atrocities he had commited due to Thanos’ torture and the tesseract’s influence, now that he woke up from that naive dream of power stilling the emptiness in his dark heart, there was nothing left for him - other than to be haunted by his crimes until the mercy of death would overcome him.

“Well” Steve began, slamming his palms on the desk to attract everyone’s attention. “As you all know, we are welcoming a new team member today.”

“They all know?” Of course they wouldn’t let him in on such sensitive information. Not that he minded either way - one Avenger more or less, it didn’t matter how many people hated him in here.

“Please, come on in.”

Loki cleared the entrance when he heared Tony’s words, turning around in anticipation of another dull creature like the Hulk to torment him - but his calm demeanour dropped completely at this unusual sight:

“Y-You?!”

That was simply not possible! The last time he had seen you was almost a year ago, and you were on the brink of death at that!

“For everyone that doesn’t know yet: Her name is Y/N Y/L/N. She is one of the victims HYDRA experimented on, and they succeeded in forming an artificial mutant.”

Steve went on and on explaining about your powers, but Loki’s head had already turned on autopilot, the only thing he could concentrate on being how the hell you of all people ended up here.

All these months, he was desperately trying to get any information about you, all of his hints ultimately leading him to dead ends - and in the end, tragically believing in your imminent death.

The memories were still painfully vivid in his mind: It was his first mission together with the Avengers, at a HYDRA hideout with most likely no civil survivors.

Actually, he had planned to make his escape right when the others engaged in a fight, wandering the hallways of what resembled a torture chamber rather than a laboratory.

On the walls were several instructions, about a serum that might cause a human to mutate if they were exposed to unbearable stress - pain being the most effective method, apparently.

Yet instead of finding anything useful for his personal gain, he found you: A beautiful woman, yet emaciated and lying in a puddle of her own blood. At first he thought you to be dead just like the others - but as soon as your faint whimpers drang to his ears, he burst the cell you were trapped in open, rushing to your side immediately.

“Shh...” the god scooped you up from the cold stone floor, wrapping his cloak around your broken body. “Everything is alright now. Your savior is here.”

Loki gasped as he felt your hand stroking his cheekbone, even through all your pain and weakness wanting to bid your hero this due respect.

“Hel...you humans are such fragile creatures...” Loki muttered under his breath, cursing his own lack of talent when it came to casting healing spells. “Hang in there, look at me!”

Your eyes were teary and bloodshot, yet not less fit to bring across a message no words ever could: Incredible gratitude, and admiration.

He could tell you were close to passing out when your hand left his face, falling limp to the side. But he held you firmly in his arms, not once stopping to utter sweet words of encouragement as he made his way to the ship, leading you into safety.

“Your world in the balance, and you bargain for one man?”

Those were the words he once directed at Black Widow - but only now he understood her attempts.

Saving one person could never make up for all the lives he had destroyed - and yet he knew that for you, it would mean the world none the less.

In one way or another, with your life at his mercy, he began to finally grasp the preciousness of life, and doing everything in one’s might to protect it.

“Reindeer Games” Tony tapped on his shoulders, making Loki wake from his pondering. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t scare her away on the first day already.”

Oh.

Just now he was noticing his own grim expression, having towered over your much smaller form this whole time with furrowed brows.

“My apologies” was his firm response, but you only shook your head, trying to tell him it was not a big deal.

So this was what you looked like when you’re not imprisoned, he realized when he took in your physique.

Much to his pleasure, all of your wounds had seemingly healed, and you finally gained some much needed weight. Like this, you looked so much more healthier - and most definetly even more bewitching than he remembered you.

If people had let him know, would he have visited your sickbed, aiding you towards health again? Who knows...

Yet somehow, he dwelled in the thought of you being able to lead a happy life now that you were free - which made your decision to seek out the Avengers in wish for more battles even harder for him to accept.

“You are incredibly strong, Lady Y/N” Loki spoke firmly, everyone else rolling their eyes at his usual exaggeration - but you knew he meant every word. “Be sure of my eternal respect.”

The God of Lies’ eyes widened in excitement when you directed a warm smile at him, knowing for sure that this one was genuine. It wasn’t like those fake smirks the other Avengers gave him out of politeness, or the mocking laughs when they were making fun of or excluding him.

No - that one was just pure affection. And it left him in awe.

“Thank you for saving me back then” you signed, just for Loki shooting you a puzzled look.

“What, I thought the all-tongue knows every language?” Tony yelled, as inconsiderate as always. Thor was quick to explain on his brother’s stead, him still being deeply invested with you. “Every spoken one, yes. ASL is not one of our fortes.”

Usually, Loki had always been a quick thinker. But right now he was to bewildered by your appearance that thinking straight was out of the question.

What language were they speaking of? And why have you not been saying anything up until now? Maybe his presence was making you uncomfortable, after all? Should he leave on your behalf?

To make it easier for him to understand, you rolled down your turtleneck, revealing the unsighty scar that covered your whole throat.

There were not many people bold enough to come close to the God of Mischief without warning, yet suddenly you simply took his hand and slowly led it to your neck.

How could you be so naive and offer someone like him such a vital spot?! He’ll never get the human philosophy...

And yet, the flabbergasted god hesistantly let his hand run over the scar, while you opened your mouth to no avail - for 11 months already, no tone would leave your vocal cords.

“I’m incredibly sorry...” Loki whispered with a sorrowful tone, while the others just stared in disbelief. “If only I was able to heal this wound back then...”

What a puny god he was...and an even more pathetic wanna-be-hero at that...

He would try to take a few steps back, but you took a hold of his hand, squeezing it with both of yours, that cheerful smile not faltering in the slightest.

“Please, don’t be sad. I’m only alive thanks to you!” Bucky, whose cousin was mute as well, translated what you were signing for Loki. His tone sounded quite irritated, not fitting those meaningful words. “I only wanted to join the Avengers because I want to be just like you. You’re my idol!”

Those words touched him deeply, igniting a flame inside of him he thought long to be defunct. Was it hope?

Of course it was not nearly enough to pull him out of that deep, dark hole he felt trapped in for as long as he could remember - yet somehow, he now felt that it was not impossible to escape.

While the others were cringing at your declaration, making jokes about ‘choosing wrong idols’ or would plainly not believe Loki to have a positive effect on anyone, the two of you would just stare at each other in silent admiration.

Shyly, you signed yet another word for him - and this time, Loki would know what you mean from pure intuition.

He smiled.

For the first time in what felt like forever, Loki was able to smile again, just thanks to your heartwarming welcome. And he was still blissfully unaware about what effect you could have on him, if he was brave enough to let you close.

One thing was sure: You literally had him wrapped around his finger from the very start.

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki Odinson #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Friggason #Oneshot #Self Insert #Marvel #Disney #Fluff #Fem! Reader #God of Mischief #Loki / Reader

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sneezefiction · 4 years ago

Text

midnight murmurs

Iwaizumi x Reader - Scenario

a/n: Iwaizumi rattles off some late-night thoughts to you while you’re “sleeping.” little does he know your eyes may not be open, but your ears are still catching quite a few of his one-sided conversations.

warnings: some language

wc: 1.5k

dedicated to: @star-puff, because your Iwaizumi fluff had me riding a high for like 2 whole days & we all need him in our lives

---

Incoherent whispering. Soft, short rambles. Maybe he was sleep-talking?

At least that’s what you thought when you first heard Iwaizumi’s voice over the gentle hum of the ceiling fan and against the muted song of the cicadas buzzing outside of the bedroom window.

But as the nights passed, you began to hone in on the contents of Iwaizumi’s mumbling.

His words were… pointed. Holding an air of quiet confidence and trickling ever so gently into your ear like a lullaby. Sometimes it had to do with his day. Other times it was about how cute you’d looked that morning, still fast asleep while he was getting dressed for work.

But whatever the topic is, you’ve grown used to the conversations that he’s been having with the back of your head.

And here you are again. Lying stiff as a twig by Iwaizumi’s side and listening intently to his voice.

“I wish you’d heard what Shittykawa did today…” He rasps softly.

“...Even though he’s all the way in Argentina, literally surrounded by beaches and resorts, he still hardly takes a day off. That dumbass sprained his ankle and kept practicing for another hour.” Iwaizumi sighed, his thumb barely skimming the surface of your forearm.

If you’d actually been asleep (like he’d thought you were), you’re sure you wouldn’t have felt the brush of his fingertips. It was too delicate. Too careful.

Honestly, you’re just glad he still holds you this tenderly. Especially late at night when you’d least expect his affection. After all, you’ve not had a chance to cuddle with him in a while.

Iwaizumi had been getting home later every single day for the past few weeks and for good reason. He felt obligated to stay with Japan’s national team into the darker hours of the night as the Olympic games approached. And you admire his dedication. You’re so proud of him for chasing after his passions and it would never dawn on you to undermine his career by holding your relationship with him over his head.

But this usually meant that, by the time he cracked the bedroom door open, you two would only have a few moments to share some words and a quick kiss before tucking under the covers. You, of course, missed his voice. And he longed to hear yours.

However, as you closed your tired eyes, Iwaizumi’s would remain wide open, body and mind relentlessly processing through another intense day. You’ve never said a word to him about his shifting and deep sighs, worried that he might feel guilty for keeping you awake with him. Yet still, you feel Iwaizumi’s exhaustion in the way his weary arm drapes around your waist. There’s a tautness, a sort of tension, there.

So you do your best to remain completely still in his hold, hoping that your outward calm would bring him some inward peace. That your steady breath might lull him into a state of rest. That you could be the anchor to his rocking boat, like he’d always been for you when your life got windy and overwhelming. But even with your best, silent efforts, he stayed alert and somewhat unsteady.

That’s when the whispery words would start… and you soon came to the realization that he was talking to you.

You hear the rustle of his hair as he runs a firm hand through it. A small smile adorns your lips as he continues his line of thought, Iwaizumi’s breath wafting across the back of your neck.

“Y/n, he’s such an idiot and he won’t listen to me anymore… maybe I’ll get you to text him tomorrow. You’re so good for him and… maybe a little nicer than I am.” Iwaizumi admits.

There’s a pause and you wonder if that’s it. If that’s the end of his dialogue for the night… but there’s more this time.

“And, God y/n, I missed you today.”

The confession shakes you. Your chest tightens as you try to take it all in.

You’re pretty sure you weren’t supposed to hear that.

Those words were reserved for the most... intimate of moments. For trembling tears or reunions after long distances or maybe hot, heavy kisses after a frustrating day. But, as a general rule, you hardly ever heard those tender remarks out of the blue. After all, Iwaizumi is a man of actions and not so much a lover of words.

So this is new, to say the least. You’re dumbstruck. Your heart is beating far faster than it should be - especially since you’ve been dating him for over a year now.

However, it wasn’t just the words that stunned you. His tone was different too. Where there usually would be, there wasn’t an ounce of embarrassment in Iwaizumi’s voice. It wasn’t rushed; not bashful or heated like some of his past devotions and confessions had seemed.

Tonight’s Iwaizumi is perfectly sincere. No, not just sincere. Fond.

Fond and maybe a tad wistful. Vocal inflection isn’t exactly Iwa’s forte, at least not when it came to sweet words in passing. So this is a historical moment in your book.

Thus, you let your cheeks burn a little longer and shut your eyes a little tighter in order to hear his next words.

“And I miss your voice.” He adds, tone dropping into what seems like… longing.

Iwaizumi pulls you a little closer into his bare chest, the rise and fall breath now pushing up against your own back. He’s really pushing it now.

It feels wrong listening into a conversation when the words are meant for you, but at the same time they aren’t. Who wouldn’t be conflicted? He had clearly trusted that your closed eyes and barely moving figure meant you were deeply asleep. That you couldn’t possibly hear a word he was saying.

I mean you had to say something, right?

So you inhale quietly, preparing to insert yourself into the one-sided discussion.

“...I wish you’d said something sooner, Iwa.”

You almost startle yourself with your own voice, the once soft atmosphere of the moonlit room, turning frigid.

Iwaizumi’s whole body goes stiff, arms frozen in place. He holds his breath and the gentle tickling of air on your neck pauses with it.

You shift your head to look back at him, his eyes already peering into your own. He was red. Beet red. Enough so that you could see it in the dim light of the room. You could practically feel the heat radiating off of his neck and arms, embarrassment flooding through every inch of his body.

“How… how long have you been listening to me?” Iwaizumi whispers, voice wavering almost as though he doesn’t want to hear your answer.

You blink.

Should you only tell him about tonight?

Or would it be better to let him know that he hasn’t had a single midnight conversation this week that you hadn’t listened in on?

You opt for honesty, knowing that he would probably be able to tell if you were lying anyways.

“Everything from this past… week?” You say shyly, slinking away from him, but one of Iwaizumi’s strong arms holds you in place.

His head falls back to his pillow and the other arm covers his eyes. As many times as he’d slipped up in front of you, he’d really done it this time. You must think he’s so strange. Why was he always doing stuff like this? Of course you would hear him.

I should’ve just kept my damn mouth shut, Iwaizumi thinks, his body still being flamed by an internal furnace from all the other embarrassing things he now remembers rattling off to you in your ‘sleeping’ state.

“But I liked listening to you.” You cut in quickly, sensing his discomfort and attempting to smooth it over with gentle words.

“And we… don’t get to talk much lately. So I- I just didn’t want to say anything because… I like the sound of your voice. You’re actually very soothing, Iwa.” You’re still sleepy, so the words come out choppily... but considering the circumstances, it wasn’t the worst recovery.

If it weren’t for the blushing male in front of you, you would probably feel just as flustered by the whole situation. But somehow, you kept your cool, too focused on calming Iwaizumi down in his flushed state.

“...Y/n?”

“Yes?” You breathe out.

“Just… just come here already.” He takes his hand away from his burning face and turns toward you.

You’re immediately pulled snug against him, your front meeting his chest, legs twining around his toned ones. Iwaizumi has a hand behind your neck tucking you into the crook of his neck as he hides his face from you, chin resting softly atop your head.

“I’ll call Oikawa tomorrow.” You joke, breaking the tension.

“It’s shittykawa.” He corrects. “And please forget about everything I said.” His tone dropping, turning sour.

A humored sigh leaves your lips.

He feels your mouth smiling faintly against his collar bone, which only sends him further into this embarrassed affection for you.

You were really something.

Never making him feel bad for running late hours. Letting him crawl into bed with you way past midnight when you could easily demand more time from him. Listening to his rambles, some more crass than others, consciously without judgement.

He’d found a treasure in you. A golden, shimmering treasure that didn’t need light to be seen. You shone even under the pale, underwhelming moonlight that peered through the window blinds.

So Iwaizumi finds himself pressing a few soft kisses onto your forehead. You plant a couple lingering ones on his neck in return and he squeezes you even closer into him.

And just as the two of you begin to drift off, you decide to top the night off with a cherry of sorts.

“Iwa?”

“Yes, y/n?” His voice at a whisper, once again.

“I’ve missed you too.”

---

Do Not Repost

tags: @cherryonigiri, @yams046, @miss-rin, @shou-kunn, @senkuwu-chan, @super-noya, @stcrryskies, @holaaaf, @sugacookiies, @vintgicals, @moonlightaangel, @kit-tea, @theworldupthere, @sugasugawarau, @randomesk-yuku, @ideshine, @macaronnv, @anseoo, @aprettyfruit, @bbakougo, @bloom-uwu, @spikertrash, @iguessimastannow

(comment, dm, or send an ask to be added to my general tag list - blogs in bold could not be tagged)

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi x reader #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #haikyuu fluff #hq #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq scenarios #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu scenarios #iwaizumi imagines #iwaizumi scenarios #aoba johsai #seijoh #oikawa #oikawa tooru #sneezefiction

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dianapana · 3 years ago

Text

SH Day 6: Marriage Agreement: ‘Til Our Contract Do Us Part

@sasuhinamonth

Hello dears, this prompt is composed of an older story that I changed a bit here and there and finished just now (it’s somewhat finished as in the ending isn’t too open, but it is open enough for me to continue if I ever wish to). I was very excited to finally use it after having it in my docs for idk maybe a year or so. It’s veeery long compared to what I usually write for these prompts but it just didn’t feel right to split it into parts anywhere.

~Love, Dia

Modern AU, OOC

Champaign

Hinata couldn’t help but sigh in relief when the waiters started walking around with trays full of Champaign glasses, it meant that the speech and toast part would come soon, that was her dad’s way of ending these events, thanking everyone for coming. Usually after the toast people drank their glasses quite fast and they all shook hands with Hiashi before leaving, considering there were about a hundred people around that would take about another hour. She made it thought the preparations for the event and the event itself which took over 7 hours, the worst parts ended, she will survive the goodbyes.

Once the trays were all empty and everyone had a glass in hand Hiashi walked to the middle of the room at what seemed to be the slowest speed possible. Everyone was watching him, nobody dared talk. For most people this wasn’t their first Hyuuga Event and they knew how things worked, and even those that attended it for the first time were smart enough to follow everyone’s lead and stay quiet.

Finally reaching his usual spot Hiashi rose his glass and started speaking. Hinata sent a small prayer to the heavens wishing the speech to be short.

“I want to start by thanking everyone for coming over tonight, especially in such a short notice” it was indeed short notice, Hyuuga events happen 2 times a year on the 20th March and 23rd September; spring and fall equinox. But Hiashi decided a month ago that a mid-June event needed to be held this year. Nobody knew why. “I hope everyone had a pleasant time today, from our oldest friends,” Hiashi said turning to the Nara and Yamanaka leaders “to our newest friends” his eyes moved to Fugaku Uchiha “and everyone in between”

Hiashi started talking about the notion of friendship and how important bonds are in ‘our world’. Hinata could tell the speech would be a long one, and with every bullshit word coming out of her father’s mouth she wanted to roll her eyes. But she couldn’t. The elders were watching her every move, Neji and Hanabi were in the same position, having eyes on them at all times. They all had to smile and nod and act like these events are their favourite place to be, no matter how big of a lie that was. She was tired, the servant woke her up at 5 in the morning to start getting ready, her father didn’t agree with the first two dresses she had put on, the putting on and taking off, took her about 2 hours in total and was extremely exhausting despite the help from the servants. The preparations for the event also took longer than usual. Her father kept telling her how important it was for her to behave. Hinata had never been the one to cause problems during such events, no matter how much she hated them, but for some reasons, it was her that was always given the longest lectures.

The windows were open at least and the night summer wind gently blew inside. The dress Hiashi approved of was a deep red long evening gown. All the skirt layers were extremely heavy and she had been standing on high heels for longer than it should be humanly possible, the corset was so tightly tied, at times she’d have issues breathing and to top it all off the dress had long lace sleeves which were sticking to her skin. It had not been a fun dress to wear in the middle of a heatwave. Her mind was still drifting in space when all of a sudden, her father stopped talking.

“I know many of you have been wondering the reason for this event and we shall let you know. Fugaku would you mind joining me?” The Uchiha leader went to the centre of the room as well. Whispers started going around the crowd, nothing like that had ever happened before. Hinata looked to Neji trying to see if he was aware of any of that, but her cousin would not make eye contact with her. Neji’s head was lowered, his fist was clenched and the hand around the glass was white-knuckled, it was a miracle the glass hadn’t shattered in a million pieced from his grip. Neji was aware of what was about to happen and he was not pleased.

“Today is the first time in over 100 years when the Hyuuga and the Uchiha families meet in peace at an event such as this. The bond between the two is alone a motif to celebrate but we must do everything in our power to keep this bond as strong as we can which is why we have decided to bind the families together thought marriage.” Hiashi’s voice boomed with pride. The crowd’s whispers grew in intensity. Hinata looked at Hanabi, both girls looking shocked and even scared. Hanabi wanted to reach out and hold her older sister’s hand. Grip it tight and pray that they both get over this event intact, but before she could make a move Hiashi started speaking again. “Hinata, my daughter would you please come here”

All eyes turned to her. Her heart beat a thousand times per second, despite her sudden fear her body moved gracefully, her mind was in utter chaos but her body knew the drill, it obeyed whatever her father told her to do. As she was passing by people, a familiar hand gripped her for a moment, trying to say so many is such a small touch. Ino, her best friend, tried to give her all the strength she had, she wanted to assure her everything will be fine, and also thought that touch she said sorry. She said goodbye. Hinata reached her father’s side and turned towards the people. She had never been in the front of the ballroom before, had never had all the eyes on her. Hiashi put his hand on her shoulder and smiled at her, the kind of smile she had never seen before. The smile she had wished to see as a child, there was pride and content in it, but it only made Hinata’s heart break further. The emotions were not directed at her as a human, he was not proud of her, his pride came from finally finding it, a way to get rid of her. He had married her off.

“Sasuke my son, come!” Fugaku’s command was just as loud and even stiffer. Hinata found Ino’s eyes in the crowd. Her friend was crying silent tears. Seeing Ino cry made Hinata oddly detached. It was a strange sensation, she almost felt like her soul had left the body and she was watching from somewhere far away all of this happening to somebody else. The Hyuuga girl moved her eyes from her friend to the man walking towards them. Her future husband.

Once the young Uchiha stood in place Hiashi raised his glass and finished the toast. “To my beautiful daughter and her fiancé,” they cheered for her. They drank for her. And yet she didn’t. The Champaign glass was still full. She was lost… not in thought, her mind was blank but she wasn’t present either.

“Look alive princess” Came a voice from her right. Sasuke took her glass and finished it in one gulp. He placed both his and her glasses on the tray of a waiter and took her hand and kissed the back of it. People gasped and whispered. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her to him. With her on heels, his mouth came to her ear. “Smile sunshine. This is supposed to be the happiest day of your life. Fool them all” His voice was oddly gentle and it broke something in her. She would have cried but Sasuke was right; she had a part to play. Taking a small breath in Hinata fell in character.

Hiashi told them to do the honours and say goodbye to everyone, after all that was their engagement party. Hinata looked up at the man she would spend her life with and gave him a sweet and shy smile, she even managed to make herself blush when he smiled back at him. She smiled and blushed whenever someone congratulated them or made a comment about their engagement. From time to time, she’d steal a glance at Sasuke and look at him with what she hoped came across as admiration. They made eye contact a few times, he winked at her twice. They were both playing their parts flawlessly. One could not tell that they had never met before, that they were not indeed lovers. Fugaku called Sasuke to him and Hinata was left alone to say goodbye to the guests. A few older ladies praised her for being able to catch such a handsome husband.

The next in line was Gaara. Hinata’s heart broke a little more upon seeing him. He too looked sad, which her brain turned to something else despite knowing it not to be true. Her feelings for Gaara had not gone away as she had hoped they would after finding out that he was in a secret relationship. “I am sorry Hinata” He whispered as he kissed her cheek. There was nothing either of them could do, people were waiting in line to talk to her after Gaara. Her father and fiancé were in front. Hinata smiled and thanked him just as she had everyone else. Gaara would not save her, he couldn’t and even if he could…he wouldn’t.

Ino was one of the last people to come talk to her. She had gone to the bathroom to pull herself together after crying. The blonde was stronger than that, but she had cried for Hinata because at that moment Hinata could not afford to cry. The Yamanaka girl hugged her tightly and whispered in her ear encouragements that they both knew would not help.

Everyone had left but the Uchiha family and the main Hyuuga family. Even the Hyuuga elders had seen themselves out. Habani was nowhere to be seen. Neji, her father, Sasuke, Fugaku and Sasuke’s elder brother Itachi were all talking among themselves. To the side was Mikoto, Sasuke’s mom. Hinata was still by the door; now that everyone had left, she was unsure of what to do, under normal circumstances she would be allowed to leave and go to her room, but her father hadn’t dismissed her yet. The Uchiha woman looked to her, smiled and started walking towards her.

“You look lovely dear. I’ve been keeping my eye on you the whole event but Fugaku would not allow me to come and talk to you sooner. Come dear let’s sit down and gossip while the men talk business”. The two women walked to the first table and sat down next to each other. “The event was so long; I thought your father would never make his speech. It must have been hard for you too, staying all those hours on high heels and in that dress, what were the servants thinking giving you such a heavy and warm dress to wear; do they not know it’s summer?” Mikoto went on about trivia things a moment longer. Hinata had yet to say a word, however, her future mother-in-law didn’t seem to mind her silence, for she filled it with mindless talk.

“I know it’s a difficult time for you,” The woman said and took Hinata’s hands in hers. “They were unfair to you, they should have let you know earlier.” Mikoto touched a strand of Hinata’s hair. “You have nothing to fear. We are a good family. My son will take care of you. It will take a while for you to adjust I know, but this is not the end of the world.”

Hinata opened her mouth to say something but found her throat was so dry she couldn’t say anything. After clearing her throat, she tried again. “Will I be leaving with you tonight?” the idea of leaving tonight and not being able to say goodbye to anyone was unboreable.

“No sweetheart. The Uchiha is an old family with old traditions, you will move in with Sasuke only on the night of the wedding. It is a sin to live under the same roof before that.” Hinata nodded. At least she still had some time before that.

“When is the wedding?”

It was easy to see Mikoto was an affectionate person, she moved her chair to be closer to Hinata and hugged her. Something about the woman put her at ease, her voice and hair reminded her of Hikari, her own mother, it was a strange feeling. “The wedding will be in three months. Before that we have to pick a dress, everything else has been pretty much done, you can look over everything and make the last-minute decisions. Of course you and Sasuke will spend some time together to get to know each other and-“.She was cut off by Sasuke himself when he addressed her “Mother” Mikoto squeezed her harder one more time before letting Hinata go. The woman got to her feet and kissed Sasuke’s cheek. “Goodbye Hinata, I will see you soon dear”

She and Sasuke were now alone. He took a seat in the chair Mikoto had emptied. For a moment they didn’t talk. It was all moving along too fast for Hinata to comprehend. Just under 2 hours ago, all she wanted was the event to end so she could sleep. Nothing could have prepared her for the change her life took. It almost felt like it wasn’t real; or that it was all happening to someone else. She had not made a single decision about this.

“Tomorrow I’ll come and we will have lunch together and talk more. It has been a full and exhausting day.” His voice was just as gentle as it was when he whispered to her before. “What would you prefer we eat? I will make reservations ahead of time”

“Anything will do, I don’t mind” Hinata answered. She appreciated that he didn’t want to ‘get to know each other’ then and there. She was indeed tired and needed to think about everything a little more, in order to realize that it was all indeed real. Looking up at Sasuke she had to say she was lucky; he was very good looking and so far, had shown her kindness. If what his mother said was true her destiny wasn’t as cruel as it could have been.

He got up and extended his hand for her to take, which she did. Hand in hand they walked back to where both families were still discussing. Neji would still not look at her, Itachi offered her a kind smile, Fugaku only a nod.

“I see that the two of you hit it off.” Her father said, it appeared he was really happy with the arrangements. Sasuke nodded to her dad. Hinata was certain that if Hiashi had his way she would leave with the Uchihas that very moment and never return.

“Hinata is tired, it is quite late so we should go. I will return tomorrow at noon in order to take her out for lunch Hyuuga-san.” Sasuke had not asked permission to take her out. He had simply stated that he would. That was the moment she realized her father was no longer the one to command her. Sasuke was. She wasn’t sure if what she felt was fear or excitement.

“Yes of course. Hinata you may leave” Hiashi said but Hinata didn’t move for Sasuke was still holding onto her hand.

“I will walk her to her quarter.” Hinata barely had time to bow to what would soon be her family before Sasuke started pulling her along. “In my presence you will not follow his word. My word is absolute, his is barely wind blowing by you.” Sasuke appeared to be annoyed by the fact that her father dismissed her. “If he says go but I am standing still, you too will stay unless I decide we will leave”

“Yes.” She knew how their world worked; despite them living in the 21rst century where women were seen as equals more and more every day, their world stopped evolving. The husband was the ultimate master while the woman was a possession. First, she was owned by her father, then by her husband.

They walked quite fast when leaving the ballroom, but once they were out of sight Sasuke slowed his steps. He was aware of the difficulty of walking in heels, his mother always made sure to complain about it. Her hand in his felt small and fragile, he had never been given something to take care of, sometimes that was his and his alone. He had been against the marriage at first. He wanted to wait until he was the Uchiha head later in life before taking a wife but his father insisted, he needed to marry young and have heirs because Itachi could not. His older brother had been his father’s favourite from a young age; that was until Itachi was 18 and Sasuke 13, about 10 years ago. On his 18thbirthday Itachi gave up his title as the heir in a very public way only to than later inform his father that not only does he not want to be head but he would not be fit for the role, for he could never give heirs to the clan. Itachi’s infertility came as a shock to the whole family. Sasuke was tested as well as soon as possible but thankfully the tests proved that he would be able to have children.

Fugaku had learned in the past 10 years to accept Sasuke as his heir, his relationship with his father was better now than it had ever been, but even so they were not as close as Itachi had been with him. But Fugaku put in all his efforts to try to make Sasuke the best, he taught him everything he could and allowed Sasuke to do as he pleases as long as what he did would be useful to the family. So, when he informed Sasuke he had picked a wife for him it came to no surprise that he had chosen a girl from a very important family, a family even older than the Uchihas and just as influential. The girl was known among her people as an angel and was believed to be the most beautiful Hyuuga girl to ever be, so of course, Fugaku wanted her for his own heir.

Upon seeing Hinata for the first time that night Sasuke had concluded the rumours had not been false. He had not been disappointed in the slightest. He was actually impressed. He expected two outcomes: either the girl to cry and make a fuss about the marriage or to be the ditzy kind of girl he had seen around that throws herself at him. She had been neither. For the shortest moment she had faltered and shown her true feelings, disbelief and numbness, but she pulled herself together as soon as he spoke to her. She had acted and played her part perfectly.

The pavement was old and uneven towards the main house. Almost nothing had been altered from the time the house was built, only maintained, so cracks and unevenness in the pathways happened. Hinata was trying her best to walk over them in her heels. Normally by that point in the night, she would take her heels off but she was not alone. Noticing her slowing down Sasuke stopped.

“Would you want me to carry you?” The offer was unexpected and it made Hinata quiet for a moment which Sasuke took as ‘yes’. He slightly bent and placed an arm under her knees and the other around her back. On instinct, Hinata placed both her hands on his shoulders to steady herself.

“You didn’t have to do that” Despite saying that she was thankful. Her feet were killing her.

“How high are your heels?”

“About 6 inches. Why?”

“6 inches and I’m still 6 inches taller than you.” He made a humming sound. Hinata didn’t know what he was thinking but she didn’t try to figure it out either. It was hard enough trying to figure out what she was feeling, there was no energy or time to uncover the mysteries of Sasuke’s mind. Her body was tired but her brain was even more exhausted. At this point not really caring anymore, she placed her head on his shoulder and just enjoyed the ride. Upon getting to the main house Hinata instructed him to go to the 2nd floor to the left. There was a guard outside her door that did not stop him from entering her room but actually held the door open for him. Two servants were inside waiting to help her undress and wash before going to bed. Sasuke put her on the edge of her bed.

“Thank you for bringing me here.” Hinata said. She felt a bit shy now, not really knowing how to say goodbye to him. This was the first time a man beside her dad and Neji entered her room. Not even the guards were allowed inside.

“Goodnight Hinata, I will see you tomorrow” Sasuke said, he kissed the back of her hand once more and left. Not waiting for her reply. Once again, a choice was made for her that day, but she was grateful for it this time.

The servants were gossiping about her fiancé and how gentle and beautiful he was, about how he had looked at her and how he had carried her like she was the most precious thing in the world. They guided her to her feet and to the full-length mirror to the side of her bed.

All their words were flying around her but none of them really registered; her brain was still not processing much of anything. She was still in the ballroom holding her Champaign glass praying for her dad’s speech to be short.

The servants untied her corset and Hinata took in her first deep breath in what felt like ages. They peeled off her sleeves and pulled the skirt away from her body. She was left in her underwear and heels in front of the full-length mirror. Her arms were splotchy and red from place to place from the itchy lace, her breasts and abdomen had red traces from where the corset was too tight on her. Her panties were red to match the dress, her legs were white and smooth but they were barely holding her at that point in the high heels, they were visibly shaking. Her eyes moved back up over every inch of naked skin until it reached her face. She wasn’t sure what she expected to see there, maybe something different. Some kind of evidence of the announcement from that night, but everything looked just as it did that morning.

One of the servants had just finished putting the dress away for it to be cleaned the next day, while the other filled her bathtub with hot water, salts and oils. Hinata would usually take off her heels and walk on her own to the bath but she was still looking at herself in the mirror, her eye make-up wasn’t smudged at all, her lipstick had gone after eating and drinking halfway through the event, so she excused herself to the bathroom several hours ago to take it off, her updo had lost some of its volume and a few strands had fallen around her face. She was too close to the mirror, her image being all she saw. Hinata took a few steps back and tried to picture Sasuke next to her naked body. They would make a beautiful couple even she could admit that.

Not being able to stomach the image she had in her head anymore the Hyuuga girl finally turned around and sat on the bed for a moment to take her heels off. She walked to the bathtub and took off her underwear as well and lowered herself in the hot water. Her head was resting on a soft towel; one of the servants started taking her make-up off and cleaning her face with scrubs and putting gels on her face and gently massaging everything in.

“Haruhi, could you please put some music on?” Hinata asked the servant that was not busy at the time. A moment later soft music started playing in the background. Once the facial massage was done a charcoal mask was applied to her face and finally, her hair was taken from the updo. Mina, the servant washing her poured some warm water on her head in such a way as not to get it on her mask. Her hair was shampooed twice and conditioned and rinsed and finally, put in a towel.

Haruhi came to help with washing her body, they scrubbed at her neck, collarbones, arms, hands, breasts, back and every other part of her. Her body was rinsed and washed again, more gently with moisturizing lavender soap and rinsed again. Her facemask was taken off, the water drained from the tub and she stepped out of it allowing the servants to towel her off. Mina placed a large towel over her bedsheets and Hinata laid on her back and enjoyed as both her servants massaged every part of her body with more oils, once they were done on one side she turned on to her front and they started to work again.

Her massage was almost done when Hanabi busted through her door. Hinata lazily opened her eyes, she was tired and finally relaxed, thus on the edge of falling asleep. Her sister was in her night attire, her hair still wet from her own bath most likely. Her eyes were red, she must have cried, but she looked angry at the moment. Hinata’s servants did not stop their massage despite the company of her sister.

“How can you stay there and enjoy your massage?” Hinata asked sounding astonished.

“You had enjoyed your bath time, why shouldn’t I?” Despite all of Hinata’s efforts over the years she and Hanabi weren’t as close as she wanted. Hanabi had always resented her for being older, the firstborn, the heir. When Hanabi was 3 and Hinata 7 the younger spent her days playing and reading stories and being watched by the elder women while Hinata was studying with the men. Hanabi had asked once why that was the case and an elder said “Your sister is the heir. She has to know how to be a leader, while you my dear, you will be a wife to someone” Despite that incident, things slowly started changing over the years, Hinata lost her father’s favour and Hanabi was taught leadership skills while Hinata was toughed to cook. Despite the obvious manner in which Hiashi favoured her now, Hanabi had always felt jealous of her sister, for she always believed what that old woman said to her in her childhood, she resented Hinata for she was to be the one that would not be married off. What an irony.

“Why aren’t you upset?” Hanabi’s voice was breaking and she was shaking. “Why aren’t you angry?” her fists were clenched and she looked like she wanted to start a riot. “Why aren’t you in dad’s office demanding he change his mind?”

“There’s nothing to change Hanabi.” Hinata finally got up and gestured to the servants to leave. She took the towel and put it around her body as the two bowed and left the room, left the sisters to talk among themselves. “Dad did it in such a way that it cannot be undone.” Hinata walked to her closet looking for something to wear to bed. “He didn’t tell me before so I couldn’t contest it, and now I can’t. Everyone that matters in this world knows about it. Unless I have a good reason, a very good one, there’s nothing that can stop this. In three months I will not be here anymore” Hinata finally picked a silk shorts and tanktop combo and put it on. “And you little sister.” The older one said as she walked towards her sister “You will be a Hyuuga forever, this will be the only house you know, these will be your people.” Hinata wanted to finish her sentence with ‘just as you’ve always wanted’ but stopped herself short.

Hanabi was crying again. She had prayed and wished to be the one to stay for so many years. But she had never thought about her sister leaving. She had always been bitter and held Hinata at a distance even when the older one tried to make the gap between them disappear. She had never taken the opportunity to get to know Hinata, and now she couldn’t.

“I’m sorry.” Hanabi said and hugged Hinata. They hadn’t hugged in ages. This time it was Hinata who pushed away.

“It’s over for today. I have not yet realized that this is not a dream. We will speak tomorrow. I’m going to bed now” She was a bit angry at Hanabi for only now trying to act like a sister. She had tried before that evening too, right before Hinata’s name was called, but even then it was in a moment of weakness, of fear, it wasn’t out of love or care. For most of her life Hinata tried to convince herself that she was fine with the way her and Hanabi’s relationship was, after trying for a few years to bond with her and being rejected, Hinata became content with what they had because she believed Hanabi not to be able to connect on a deeper level. She didn’t connect with Neji or Hiashi either. But seeing that she is indeed able of that connection, that she just didn’t want it before, hurt her more than Hinata would ever admit.

Hanabi left and Mina and Haruhi peeked in Hinata’s room. “Good night Himata-hime” they said in union and Hinata wished them a goodnight as well. Them calling her hime reminded her of the way Sasuke had called her Princess. ‘Smile sunshine. Fool them all’ he had said. And she did. She smiled and fooled them.

Now that her head was finally on her pillow, hair still damp, sheets cool and comforting, the room dark and quiet she allowed herself to admit a few things out loud. “I am getting married. I will be an Uchiha. Sasuke will be my husband.” The silence in the room was deafening “I am scared.” A little voice in the back of her brain whispered ‘I am excited’ but she didn’t say it out loud. With those thoughts in mind, she fell asleep.

________________________________

The next morning felt normal. She woke up, brushed her teeth, washed her face, got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast. She didn’t feel different. Upon reaching the dining room she realized for once she was the last to arrive. Hanabi was in her seat looking upset, Neji was frowning at his phone and her dad was reading something on his pad. That is what the house would look like in three months. She moved from the doorframe and all eyes turned to her. Hanabi still looked sad, Neji looked sorry and her dad was happy. Hinata walked around the table and sat in her chair.

“Good morning sunshine. How did you sleep?” Hiashi had stopped calling her sunshine when she was 4 years old and Hikari died.

“I slept very well, how about you father?”

“I did as well”

Neji was looking at Hinata almost expecting her to cry or scream. He was looking at her face trying to find proof of tears from the night before, but her face wasn’t red or puffy. She looked well-rested.

The breakfast was finally brought for them to eat and they did so in silence. Hiashi was the first to finish and instead of leaving to go do work as he would normally, he started talking.

“Sasuke will be here at noon. You should start getting ready after breakfast” Hiashi too wanted to test his daughter and see how she would address the situation. He wanted to know if he had to give her a lecture about her behaviour around the Uchiha heir.

“Yes, I know. I already thought of what I want to wear. I will change and come seek your approval as I would for an event.” Hinata said between bites. “He didn’t mention where we were going but he did say he will make reservations so I am assuming it is a dressy place despite being a lunch date”

Everyone was taken aback by her answer. Hinata had not lied, she slept very well and woke up early. She accepted her fate almost entirely, she picked what she wanted to wear and even thought about a few things she wanted to ask Sasuke. In all truthfulness, she was a bit excited but was trying to keep her expectations low, that way she would not be disappointed if this change was not for the better. The only thing she didn’t particularly like about this was not seeing Ino and Neji. They were her best friends despite Neji’s behaviour in those 2 days.

Seeing as nobody spoke anymore Hinata excused herself and went to her room to start getting ready. It was only 9 in the morning. Sasuke would only come in about 3 hours but there wasn’t much else she could do.

She didn’t even reach her closet to take out the outfit she had thought of wearing when Neji came into her room. He walked to her and bowed. “I’m sorry” he was apologizing for not telling her, for not being able to stop it, for the way he treated her.

“It’s ok Neji. Everything could have been worse.” She wasn’t lying. She heard of many girls that had married old and abusive men. Their whole life they were raped and beaten. She didn’t know Sasuke at all but from the 2 interactions she had with him, he didn’t appear like he would hit her. Mikoto too seemed nice enough. “What is one prison exchanged for another?” She wasn’t allowed to do much in the Hyuuga household anyways, read and study. She was a bit eager to see if she had a bit more freedom as an Uchiha and if not, she was already used to being a caged bird.

“I couldn’t convince uncle not to do that. The bond with the Uchihas was apparently necessary. And Fugaku requested you to marry his son. Uncle couldn’t deny a direct request like that. Plus...” Neji decided to stop there.

“Plus, dad would rather Hana be the leader.” Hinata continued what Neji wouldn’t say. “I know that Neji. I’ve known that for a while now.”

“If one of the leaders were to request to marry you as well uncle might need to reconsider” He didn’t sound sure at all.

“He wouldn’t change his mind. The relationship with the Uchihas is more important to him than any other family at the moment. In addition, nobody would risk their bond with both us and the Uchihas for my hand in marriage” Hinata absently replied while looking through her collection of necklaces while sitting at her vanity.

“If we ask Gaara maybe-“

“He wouldn’t. and I would never ask him either” Yesterday she might have jumped up at the idea of marring Gaara. But something changed and made her realize her feelings for Gaara were never really for the man, but the freedom he represented. Gaara was her friend, he was a leader and if he would have been her husband, he would have offered her the most freedom a woman can have in their world. “I would never ask your boyfriend to marry me” Hinata said this while watching Neji’s face in the mirror.

Her cousin blushed and looked alarmed. “You are mistaken Hina-“

“Stop” I know I’m not. Her eyes softened. “It took me a while to realize but I did. And I confirmed my suspicions when I told Gaara about my feelings a few months ago and he said he was in love with someone himself. I asked why he wasn’t marrying this girl and he replying that his relationship was taboo. I thought she was a married woman maybe, a commoner. But it clicked when I saw him look at you.” Neji was still not moving or breathing.

“I will not tell anyone about the two of you Neji. It is nobody’s business but yours.” She got up from the vanity and walked to him and hugged him. “For what is worth…I wish you both happiness.” She knew that their relationship would not be accepted in their world and her heart wept for both cousin and her friend. The world was cruel. “I hope you find a way to be happy and free” She wanted that for herself too. Happiness and freedom to find who she was and then be herself.

Neji hugged her back. “That means the world to me Hinata.” He sighed long and his body felt like it was deflating. “I hadn’t realized how it would feel to hear the words from someone other than him or me. How much I wanted someone to validate the way I feel” Neji took a step back and kissed her forehead. “I wish you happiness and freedom as well Hinata. I hope your life as an Uchiha to be better than your life as a Hyuuga has been.”

She hoped that as well. After another hug, Neji remained in her room and the two of them chatted while Mina and Haruhi were doing Hinata’s hair and make-up for her date. The dress Hinata had chosen was a black beach dress with daisies and sunflowers on the skirt. The skirt was cut on one leg to her mid-thigh. The upper part was like a tank top in the front but the back was almost bare, only a few strings places in a random pattern kept the front from falling. She would pair the dress with gold wedges and a gold choker and her normal hoop earrings. Her makeup was done also in soft golds and whites. Her hair was braided in the front like a crown and she asked Haruhi to braid some small daisies in as well. The rest of her hair was free and in waves from not drying it properly before bed. Neji had left right before she changed her clothes about 10 minutes ago. Being finally done she did as promised and went downstairs to get her father’s approval, it was still only 11 so if he had any complaints she would have the time to change, or so she thought. After knocking on his office door and being granted access Hinata opened the door only to find Sasuke in the room with her father.

Hiashi looked up at her and he only nodded his approval for her attire. Sasuke had on a white button up with the last 2 buttons undone and the sleeves rolled to his elbows and a short pair of black slacks.

“Come in Hinata, Sasuke came early so we had a talk while you were still getting ready” Hinashi beckoned her to enter the room but she didn’t move to which Sasuke smirked.

“Actually, I think we will be leaving now, seeing as she is ready as well. I will see you later Hiashi-san” Sasuke greeted the older man, took Hinata’s hand and closed the door of the office. Neither of them said anything as they walked to Sasuke’s car.

Hinata was starting to get nervous, not only for the date and being alone with Sasuke, but because she hadn’t been outside without her father or at least Neji. Sasuke opened the door of her and she got inside his car. He walked around and go into the driver’s seat. Before starting the car though, he kissed the back of her hand.

“You look lovely today as well.” He turned her hand around and kissed her wrist. “You were a good girl Hinata, not listening to you father.”

Her breath hitched due to the second kiss, no man touched her wrist before, let alone kiss it. During her talk with Neji they discussed Sasuke as well. Her cousin said that he is known to be cold and quite cruel. But he had been anything but that to her. He had been gentle and affectionate, something she had never experienced. Nobody in the Hyuuga household hugged her or kissed her hands.

Sasuke looked at her and smirked at her blush, he could tell this was the real deal and not a fake like the ones from last night’s goodbye charade. He finally started the car and drove down the Hyuuga driveway till he reached the first gate, one of the security men opened the gate for them and they continued down the driveway to the second and final gate, this was opened for them as well and they were finally on the road.

“I have never left without father or Neji the premises of the house.” Hinata admitted.

Sasuke looked at her for a split second from the corner of his eye. She was looking out the door with a small smile. “Not even to a friend’s house? I noticed you talking with the Yamanaka girl a lot. Were you never allowed to visit her just with a guard or two?”

“No. Neji always had to come along” Sasuke’s reply was a small hum. He hadn’t realized that the Hyuugas were that strict.

“I will assign my best guard to you once you move in with me. When I am at work; because unlike your father I am away from the house quite a lot, you will stay with him. You are free to go as you please as long as he’s with you”

‘You are free’ was what Hinata heard. She had wanted to be free for such a long time but now that I was so close to her, she wasn’t sure what she’d do with said freedom. The rest of the drive she spent trying to come up with what she would do the first chance she got.

The restaurant was in the centre of the city, where she had never been before. The amount of people walking around was mind-blowing. There were kids laughing, people talking walks and strolling around just because they could. Her whole life the thought of public space being dangerous had been drilled in her head. Other families could be around, they could hurt her. ‘People are mean and cruel’ that was Hiashi’s go-to answer when one of them wanted to go somewhere. Despite Hinata never really believing what her dad said, his words were on repeat in her head, so without really meaning to she took a step closer to Sasuke, held onto his arm with both hands and tried to hide away. Even if one does not believe the things they are told, if they are told them often enough, they become involuntary habits; she had been taught to think she was always in danger, paranoia was not easy to let go of.

When he had said they’d go eat at a restaurant she thought he meant one owned by the Hyuuga or by the Uchiha family, a restaurant from their respective part of Konoha. She knew what part of the city belonged to the Hyuugas and looked up what parts belonged to the Uchihas and this part wasn’t owned by either.

He noticed her stiffening in the car when he parked it. He noticed her fear and the way she clung to him for dear life. “What’s the matter Hinata?”

She looked up at him with big eyes, she looked like a deer caught in headlights. “Aren’t we in danger?” Her voice was low and trembling. Sasuke stopped in the middle of the sidewalk and took both of her hands in his. Hinata took a step in front and pressed her body to his, still trying to hide.

“Why would we be in danger?” he was genuinely confused.

“People are mean and cruel. This isn’t our territory. Someone could try to shoot at us.” The reply rolled off her tongue without much thought. She had heard them so many times they felt natural.

Sasuke placed one of her hands on his chest and the other on his back above the waistband of his pants. Hinata’s eyes grew even larger when she felt both guns. “This is neutral space. We’re not on anyone’s territory.” He said softly and let go of her hands but they stood in place. “And even if someone was to try to harm you, I’d kill them all” he whispered in her ear in the gentlest way possible. The threat should have scared her, but it made her feel secure. “I will protect you with everything I have. Nobody will dare touch a single hair from your head for the fear that I’ll destroy them all” Sasuke tucked a hair strand behind her ear as he continued to spill threats to any future danger. “Do you feel better now?” he finally asked.

“Yes” Hinata answered but couldn’t look at him. She felt silly and embarrassed for being worried. They were a few steps from the restaurant and had been standing in place being an inconvenience to people passing by. “Let’s go inside” she turned around and started walking to the door and Sasuke followed. He could see her flushed cheeks but allowed her to think she had hidden her discomfort from him. There were things on his mind, her fear had been real. She had been taught that if she were to ever leave her house she would die, her father hadn’t been above lying, traumatizing and manipulating her emotions to keep her in place and in control. He had always stayed home to work so he could keep an eye on all of them. Sasuke did not agree with his methods at all.

They were finally seated at a private table on the second floor. Hinata was looking at the menu with a sparkle in her eyes. “Do you know what you want to order?” Sasuke asked her. The restaurant was fancy enough to have steak and lobster but it also had hamburgers.

“I think I’ll take a chicken cheeseburger. I tried making one in secret home and it was good enough but I’m curious to see what a real one tastes like” She said with enthusiasm. “What about you? What are you ordering?”

“I think I’ll have a burger as well, the extra spicy one” Just as the two closed the menus the waiter came to take their order. Sasuke ordered for them the burgers and a big portion of fries and onion rings with a side of all of their 4 sauces, neither of them wanted soda so they decided to order a large bottle of water.

“You’ve never eaten a burger before?” Sasuke asked trying to go back to what she had said before.

“Only the one I made. Our cook usually makes food for 2 days so he has Tuesdays and Thursdays off. In those days I like cooking something that I want to try rather than just help him with whatever dad ordered he cooks…Most what dad wants is traditionally Japanese food and I like it, but I see some foods in movies and I want to try them.”

“So, you like watching movies?” He wanted to know what her hobbies and interests were in order to provide her with them so she wouldn’t get bored alone at the house when he was away.

“I watch a movie once every 2 weeks when Ino comes to visit me.”

“She only visited you two times a month?” He had believed the Yamanaka girl to be her best friend.

“Yes, that’s how many times father allowed her to come over…” Her voice so far had been light but it had a tint of sadness when she had revealed this last part.

“What about other hobbies. What do you do usually in a day?”

“Hobbies? Oh well, umm…Usually I wake up and if it’s a day where the cook is at work, I help him make breakfast, lunch and dinner. In between I had a few classes that the elders taught me about leadership. Neji and I usually have tea in the garden when he has the time…”

He was furious. Hiashi was killing her. He didn’t allow her to leave, but she couldn’t get visitors, she wasn’t allowed to do anything but exist. He wasn’t sure if he could wait three months for her to move it. Hinata was his and she was unhappy. He could tell Hinata was feeling a bit awkward because of her answer which is why he didn’t push it. The food came and they ate in silence. Hinata had loved her burger. She tried all 4 souses and really liked the sweet chilli and the honey mustard one. After the waiter took their empty plates Sasuke ordered dessert.

“Did you enjoy the food?”

“I did. The burger was much better than the one I made home…” Her smile had returned on her face. Despite the fact that he had been against the marriage before, Sasuke was eager for it now. From the moment he had laid his eyes on Hinata this feeling overcame him, the need to protect and please her. She was his and he would keep her safe and happy no matter what. Whatever she’d ask for he’d give her, if she wanted the moon, he’d find a way.

“I’m glad you liked it. Next time tell me what other foods you want to try and I’ll think of a place to go.” Hinata agreed. They talked a little more about the food when the dessert finally came. He had ordered a lava cake with vanilla ice cream, according to many people that was the best dessert the restaurant offered.

“There’s only one. Do you want to split it?” Hinata asked but Sasuke only shook his head and pushed the plate in front of her.

“I don’t particularly like sweets so you can eat it.” He watched her enjoy the cake. She had giggled after cutting into it and seeing the molten chocolate pour out. She had never eaten a lava cake, of course. His chest felt tight, like something was squeezing his heart and wouldn’t let go. He couldn’t stop thinking about how Hiashi had sheltered her from all these small pleasures of life, he wanted to hit the older man, but at the same time, he couldn’t wait to see Hinata experience everything for the first time. It was like watching a child, she had the same big and innocent eyes.

When Hinata finished the cake, the waiter took the plate and brought the check for which Sasuke paid but they didn’t get up to leave yet. “I have a few things for you” he said. And pulled from his pocket a new phone with the charger and its pair of headphones. “I already programmed my number there and Naruto’s; he will be your bodyguard. If anything happens during these months when you are still living with Hiashi call me and if by any chance I can’t pick up call him.”

Hinata was staring at the phone like it was alien technology. “You’re giving me a phone?”

“Yes. I want to be in touch. Sadly, I can’t come and eat with you every day so on the days we can’t meet I want you to call me. I’ll call you as well when I get home if it isn’t too late and we can talk, you can tell me about your day and such” Hinata nodded and took the phone from him and stared at it for a second longer. “You can add any number you want, Neji’s, Ino’s, your sister. It will be helpful to have them for when you come and live with me and feel lonely.”

“I can add other numbers…?” Hinata was once again hit with the realization that Sasuke was offering her freedom and she didn’t know how to take it. She was overwhelmed by the fact that she had a phone, let alone that she could use it to call Ino.

“Of course. It has an unlimited number of minutes and internet too. You can watch movies if you wish. Also, if you want to buy something online use the phone, I programmed it so it would automatically take money from my account and I’ll be notified.”

Hinata was trying her best to keep tears from spilling. For some reason the fact that he allowed her the freedom of a fully functional phone felt like a huge step, he was putting his trust in her. At that moment Hinata made a promise to never betray his trust. In the few hours that Sasuke was the one in charge of her, he had been more indulging and kinder than her father had been during 22 years.

“And the last thing” Sasuke said as he took a red velvet box out from his other pocket. He opened it and inside was the most beautiful ring she had ever seen. The band was made of white gold and it had a big red ruby in the middle and on each side three smaller diamonds. The ring wasn’t overly huge, but it was beautiful. “I didn’t have the time to give this to you yesterday, I’m sorry” Hinata shook her head, there was nothing he should apologize for.

Sasuke held out his hand for her to place hers in so he could slip the ring onto her finger. It fitted perfectly and looked gorgeous on her finger. It felt a little strange, she had never put on rings on her left hand because it was considered bad-luck, so the feeling was foreign but she knew it would go away soon enough and the ring would turn into something that brought her peace at all times just from looking at it.

“I love it thank you” The squeezing was back and more powerful this time. She was wearing his ring. He had proof to show to the world that she was his. Sasuke was the one to get up first and Hinata followed. They walked out of the restaurant and back to the car hand in hand.

It was barely 2 in the afternoon. “I’m sorry I can’t spend more time with you today.”

“It’s ok. It was more than enough. I had a wonderful time, thank you” Hinata was still looking at the ring with a smile on. It was weird how something that yesterday felt like the end of the world, today felt like the beginning. Her heart fluttered when Sasuke opened the box and showed her the ring and it violently beat in her chest as he was putting it on her finger. Maybe marrying her off was the best thing her father could do.

They reached the Hyuuga house faster than either of them would have liked. “I’m not coming inside this time” Sasuke said as he walked her to the door. Hinata just realized that that had been her first date. She saw similar scenarios in the movies she watched with Ino. The boy walked the girl to the door after their date and he would kiss her. Would Sasuke kiss her? Did she want him to? A part of her was scared but the other part of her was screaming ‘KISS ME’. But Sasuke didn’t kiss her, at least not on the lips. Just like last night he kissed her forehead and left saying goodbye.

Hinata walked inside the house and it felt even colder and duller than normally. She wasn’t sure she could survive another three months there, not when freedom with Sasuke was that close. Hinata didn’t go to tell her father she was home, instead, she ran up the stairs to her room where Mina and Harushi were waiting for her. Her servants were a few years older than her, yet Hinata had never considered them friends because Hiashi drilled the belief that servants were to be servants since she was small, but her dad had been wrong before, so maybe he was wrong on this occasion as well.

The two girls bowed to her and Hinata stopped. She wasn’t sure how to act, a sudden image from a movie popped into her mind. When one of the girls would tell the others about her crush and they’d all jump up and down and screech. So, she took in a deep breath.

“You can raise your head” she said in her normal tone. The girls did as she asked. Taking in another breath she extended her left hand for them to see the ring. “Isn’t it beautiful?” Her energy was overflowing and she couldn’t contain it anymore. She started jumping up and down and laughing.

“Today was the best day ever. He was so lovely and just everything was amazing.” Hinata took one of Mina’s hands and one of Haruhi’s and started jumping up and down. The servants looked at one another before starting to laugh too and jumping with her.

“The ring is lovely” “And he’s so handsome” “I’m glad you had a lovely date Hinata-hime” “Did he tell you when the next one will be?” The two were talking alternatively.

“He didn’t but he gave me a phone and said he’ll call everyday he can’t see me” She showed them the phone as well. Hinata wanted to call Ino as soon as possible but she didn’t know her friend’s number. Whenever she wanted to talk to Ino she’d use Neji’s phone. Hinata started walking towards the door to the hallway, she wanted to look for Neji to get him to put his number and Ino’s in her phone.

The rest of the day went by faster than most of her days do. She talked to Ino on the phone for hours then took a bath and as she was changing in her night attire her phone rang. Sasuke had kept his promise to call her when he got home. She told him about talking to Ino and asked about his own day. Their conversation wasn’t very long but it still made Hinata smile. She fell asleep with a smile on her face and thoughts of Sasuke in her mind.

________________________

The following morning the first thing she did upon waking up was to check her left hand to make sure the ring was there and that it wasn’t all just a dream. She couldn’t help but smile upon seeing the piece of jewellery.

Sasuke’s question about hobbies bothered her a little, she had never really had the means of finding a hobby, she either didn’t have the time or didn’t know what to try besides cooking recipes she made up. But now she no longer needed to attend the leadership classes, her father informed her of that at breakfast, and she now had access to the internet, she could try learning a new skill, discover what she liked to watch or read, find out something she enjoyed doing. That was on her to-do list until she met with Sasuke the next time, get a hobby.

Ino liked gardening and making flower arrangements, Hinata liked helping her around the garden as well but doing the arrangements themselves was always difficult and not particularly enjoyable. The one thing she knew she’d like was drawing but was a bit scared. She had always doodled on her notes but had never tried to do an artwork. So that was the first thing she looked up on youtube, drawing videos. She found many and every single one was more amazing than the one before.

Hinata immersed herself in the videos and all the different ways in which one could create art.

________

Despite being in the middle of work Sasuke couldn’t help but think about Hinata and the things she said during their date a few days ago. She was basically a teenager getting her first phone. Sure, she knew a shit ton about leadership, her family and their world but she knew nothing about the outside world, technology and real human relationships. She didn’t know herself either, that part, seeing her figure out who she was as a person, what she enjoyed and what she didn’t, would be lovely to watch. But Sasuke was still confused about how Hiashi thought he could shelter his heir from everything, had Hinata been the leader she would have been lost, not because she wasn’t fit for it but because she didn’t know how to navigate her way through the outside world, she didn’t know what to do when someone wasn’t giving her orders. Her father had succeeded in turning her into someone submissive not because she was weak but because she had never been given the opportunity to be independent. Hinata had amazing skills, she knew over 5 languages and was taught how to fight, but she didn’t know many basic things.

Sasuke kept thinking of the best ways to slowly expose Hinata to more of the outside world and its customs, the Yamanaka girl wasn’t as sheltered but she wasn’t exactly well versed in ‘normality’ either. Naruto would spend a lot of time with her too but he couldn’t entrust the blond to teach her things, who knows what dumb stuff he would fill her head with. Of course, the obvious solution would be his mother, she was the sanest out of everyone he knew and she could help her prepare for the life of ‘the wife of the Uchiha leader’, but he would like to assign someone that’s around their age as well, someone Hinata could consider a friend and not feel overly anxious around.

Before he could find the perfect candidate, his cousin Shisui came to inform him his father wanted to talk to him. He forced himself to focus on work, but lingering thoughts of Hinata distracted him every now and again. He was still worried about her being in the Hyuuga household still, time seemed to be moving in slow-motion, the beginning of September appeared to be years away.

________

Her eyes were sparkling as she was telling him all about the painting tutorials she watched the past three weeks, she apologized for wasting so much money on ordering acrylic paints and brushes. When Hinata mentioned the money issue his temper almost got the best of him, Hiashi had so much money, enough to have a Rolex to ear for every day of the year, yet he couldn’t allow his daughter under 100 dollars to buy paints? Not to mention, but Hinata’s perception of money was off, she apologized for spending 12 dollars on a tube of paint without knowing that the phone she ordered it with was almost a thousand times more expensive. Hiashi only ever spent money on his daughters if it fit his needs, he dressed them well so people could see their wealth, Hinata had been nothing but a trophy.

“I’m sorry I asked for your address, but I just don’t want the order to come to the Hyuuga estate, I’m sure father would destroy everything I bought…” Hinata said, the tips of her ears red, as if she was embarrassed for having him as a father. It wasn’t her that should have been embarrassed but Hiashi.

“It was a nice surprise, seeing you order and send things over to my place already made it even more obvious to me that the wedding is going to happen soon” That wasn’t a lie. When her first order of brushes and canvases arrived Sasuke asked the servants to clear a whole room downstairs, one that had a glass wall towards their garden and turn it into a painting studio. Besides what she ordered he got more, he bought every type of paint there was, acrylic, water, oil and many others. He even talked to Sai, one of his workers that is a famous painter and asked if he would be open to giving Hinata a few hours, of course, provided she was fine with the idea as well.

“H-how do you feel about the marriage…? I can’t imagine you were pleased with it…” her face was lowered, her eyes watching as she was playing with her hands in order to distract herself from the question. She was scared he’d say he hated the idea, especially since over the past month since the announcement, her feelings slowly turned to happiness and excitement.

“I was slightly annoyed when dad first told me. But I’ve changed my mind and I cannot wait” Sasuke answered and placed one of his hands on top of hers to calm her down. “It drives me mad knowing you’re stuck in that house for another 2 months. I have to constantly fight the urge to just sneak in and kidnap you” His tone was light thus turning his words into a joke, Hinata giggled at it, but Sasuke was dead serious.

“I’m glad” Hinata admitted and grabbed his hand with both of hers and brought it to her lips and kissed his knuckles. Her feelings for Sasuke were complex, they started out as indifference when they were simply just individuals belonging to the same world, then they turned to fear and maybe a light form of hate the moment Hiashi announced she had been sold off, but after spending the slightest time with him, she felt relief, admiration and gratitude towards him. He represented a better future, one with freedom and happiness, a future away from her father. Sasuke was her saviour, but even those feelings started to change, her heart would flutter whenever his voice echoed from her phone, she’d constantly check for new texts from him, the days in between their meetings were the longest, while the time spent with him seemed to be so short. Every time he kissed her hand or her forehead she wanted to grab onto his face and bring it down to her face, she wanted to hold his hand, to hug him, but the urge she had most often and the one hardest to fight was to ask for the wedding to be held earlier. Whenever Sasuke drops her off at the Hyuuga estate she wants to ask him to marry her right that moment so she could go home with him.

She spoke to Ino about her feelings and about Sasuke, Ino told her that she was so glad the Uchiha was so nice to her, but that she should be careful, her feelings appeared out of nowhere and they developed so fast, she shouldn’t get too attached to him, shouldn’t become totally dependable of him because in their world ‘love’ was never one to last. Ino’s view on love was jaded after her parents’ divorce, Ino’s father was devastated when his wife left him and his daughter was there to pick up the pieces. Hinata was aware her friend was trying to warn her and shelter her from future heart break, but the thought of Sasuke hurting her seemed outlandish.

They ate pasta this time around, and with every bite, her eyes got bigger and bigger. “This is the best thing I have ever eaten. How can something be this delicious?” She kept praising the food throughout, whenever the waiter came to ask if they needed anything else Hinata would ask him to tell the chef that he is a genius, that his food is the most amazing thing ever. Sasuke smirked and shook his head every time.

“I can stay for longer today, is there anything else you’d like to try?” He asked her as they were walking around the pedestrian central part of Konoha. Hinata had been utterly confused with the concept of a part of the city denying car access, whenever they crossed a street, she’d still check for cars despite Sasuke assuring her that there was no way for one to get there. The central part was crowded and busy with people, Hinata stood a step behind Sasuke trying not to bump into anyone, looking over his shoulder at her to see if she heard his question Sasuke realized she had not, she was far too focused on not hitting anyone to concentrate on anything else. Reaching for her with his hand, he placed his arm around her waist and drew her close to his body. Her face instantly turned beet red and she looked up at him. He lowered his face towards her and Hinata’s brain picked up speed, he would surely kiss her, but there? In front of all those people? Wasn’t a public kiss a bit too much? However, his face passed by hers and only stopped when his lips were next to her ear “I asked if there is anywhere else you want to go. It’s too loud and you couldn’t hear me”

Due to her embarrassment and agitation, she simply pointed at a random building, which turned out to be a Starbucks. The two of them walked together, Sasuke still holding her by the waist, but upon walking into the café he let go, she was disappointed, but only for a moment, for he was simply letting go in order to hold her hand. Their fingers intertwined and the world fell into place, the smell of coffee wasn’t overpowering, actually, the café smelled more of chocolate. Sasuke stopped before reaching the end of the line.

“Take a look at the menu, being here for the first time can be overwhelming with all the options. If you want, we can buy so pastries as well” He already knew well that she enjoyed sweets very much. “What do you usually get?” Her eyes were glued to the menu reading all the ingredients for each beverage.

“I don’t think you’d like what I get. I get a large Americano with 3 espresso shots and no sugar.” Upon hearing his order Hinata scrunched her nose in a disgusted expression, she looked up at him. “So you drink just…black coffee, willingly?” he couldn’t help but laugh at her disbelieve “My dad drinks it that way too, says that putting anything else in coffee is blasphemy. I once asked for sugar and he got so mad… I hadn’t had coffee since then” Her story left a sour taste in his mouth.

“Maybe I’ll get a large Latte with 3 shots of espresso and one cube of sugar after all…” That conversation made him realize that there was nothing he’d hate more than her believing him and Hiashi had anything in common, he’d drink sweet coffee with milk from now until forever if it meant distancing himself from her father’s image. The change in his order made Hinata smile. “I decided as well, I want a vanilla and cinnamon Frappuccino with almond milk” Sasuke placed their orders and out a few fruit tarts as well. Their lunch date turned to a dinner date as well, which had been the longest period they had spent together in one day, thus making it especially hard when it was time for Sasuke to drop her off. Hinata watched from the hallways window as his car slowly disappeared behind the huge gates of their estate, watching him leave made her heart hurt. She knew Sasuke hated leaving her as well, still, she couldn’t help but feel abandoned.

“Are you back?” Hanabi asked as she exited the library, she probably had just finished one of her classes. All of Hinata’s bitterness towards her sister disappeared, now she only felt pity. Hanabi would be stuck in the house forever and she would be free, it was scary how one’s view on certain events could change so fast. Barely a few days ago Hinata thought she was the one being punished, but now realized it was her sister.

“Yes I’m back” Despite her pitying Hanabi, the two weren’t close enough to offer kind words of encouragement and support. “But I’m a bit tired so I’ll go to sleep”

“He didn’t hit you, did he?” it was barely a whisper, but it made Hinata’s blood boil. Her alliances changed the moment Sasuke treated her nicely, hearing Hanabi badmouth him made her want to scream at her sister, but she didn’t. She turned around slowly and smiled. “He didn’t. He would never. He won’t. he isn’t father, there is nothing about him similar to father” Hinata didn’t stay behind to hear Hanabi’s reply. She ran up the stairs and the moment her bedroom door was closed she called Sasuke, he picked up on the second ring.

“I miss you” The words were out of her mouth before she even realized, but she didn’t regret them. “I miss you” she repeated, to show to Sasuke, to herself that she meant them.

“I miss you too” his voice was softer than she had ever heard it, it was a shame she couldn’t see his expression. She closed her eyes and wished for the weeks to fly by.

________

Despite her newfound freedom in the form of a phone with full access to the internet, Hinata’s days seemed to move slower than ever. The time in-between her ‘dates’ with Sasuke were dragging on forever. She’d talk to Ino on the phone, watch videos, read from an ebook, listen to music, cook and barely 2 or 3 hours of the day would have passed. The highlight of her day was always her chat with Sasuke. Apart from their night calls, they kept texting throughout the day as well, but he was busy with work so his replies were few and far in between. Wasting time and dreaming of her future became her routine, each day seemed to be a carbon copy of the previous one. Not today, however, today was a special day, today she, Mikoto and Ino were going to choose her wedding dress. Hinata was practically bouncing, eager to leave the house, eager to try the dresses on, eager to see herself in white, the dress would be proof not only that the wedding was getting nearer, but also that it was indeed reality and not one of her daydreams.

She had been worried her father wouldn’t have allowed for it, but both Fugaku and Sasuke assure him that Naruto, her future bodyguard, was the best and he would be able to protect the three women for the day. Thankfully her father was just as excited about the wedding and would not go and do anything to potentially ruin his newfound friendship with the Uchiha head.

The plan was for Naruto and Mikoto to get to her house around noon, then they would drive to Ino’s and to the dress shop. After picking up the dress they’d go to eat and see the wedding venue and all the plans Mikoto arranged, to make sure Hinata liked everything and if she didn’t so they could change everything by the wedding which was 3 weeks away. Hinata woke up at 7, unable to contain her longing to be outside, she got dressed up, ate and has spent the last 4 hours pacing around the entrance hall.

When her father passed by her early in the morning he lectured her, telling her how she should behave, be respectful, yet vigilant because ‘people are mean and cruel’ because ‘the shop isn’t on out territory’, because ‘you are always in danger.

Neji also spent about half an hour with her talking about her feelings about the wedding, her impression of Sasuke. Her stories and happiness eased his mind and guilt, for he had not been able to stop the arranged marriage. He truthfully wished for her excitement to never die; he hoped the Uchiha household would be a proper environment for her growth.

The only one in the Hyuuga household that was not on board with the marriage was Hanabi. She continued making remarks about Sasuke’s renowned cruelness, hinting that Hinata would not know happiness in her marriage with him. She constantly asked whether he had any violent tendencies towards her, whether he ignored her, whether he cheated on her. Hinata always tried to not let her words get to her, Sasuke was wonderful and more than she had ever hope for, she had no reason to doubt him, so all of Hanabi’s words never had any impact but annoy her. Hinata always defended Sasuke and Hanabi would answer ‘my foolish sister’, patronizing her, making it seem as if she knew more than Hinata herself. Hinata tried to understand where Hanabi was coming from…all of her life she had hoped to be the heir and now she was. But Hinata’s happiness was yet another source of jealousy for Hanabi, she was slowly realizing that once again, she was the one who had the short end of the stick, thus all of her remarks weren’t for Hinata to believe, but for herself. She tried so hard to convince herself Hinata’s future was bleak and Hanabi had to pity her, not the other way around.

Once again, right before Mikoto and Naruto arrived Hanabi made a remark that hurt Hinata’s feelings, a remark which Hanabi too regretted instantly, her remorse could be read on her face, but her ego stopped her from apologizing. “Make sure you pick a pretty dress Hinata, that’s what you’ll be buried in when he kills you on the wedding night” she said loud and clear, for the servants around to hear, had Hiashi been there he would have punished Hanabi for trying to destroy the Hyuuga-Uchiha Union, but all Hinata did was give her a sad smile and answer with “Good luck to you too little sister” Their relationship could never be fixed, not when jealousy was the primal feeling Hanabi held for her, not when her ego stood in the way of a sincere apology, not when Hinata was resigned and no longer wished to try.

Mikoto came like a hurricane, she entered the house without knocking, she hugged Hinata and kissed both of her cheeks, she complimented her on her dress and make-up. Behind her was a blond young man that gave her a warm smile. “This is Naruto, he will be your bodyguard when you enter the family”

Naruto took a step closer but made no attempt to touch her, he simply smiled wider and bowed his head slightly. “It’s a pleasure to meet and protect you Miss Hinata” Naruto’s use of her name and not of Hyuuga felt odd, but freeing; she wanted to move past this family. She would not forget them, for they were part of her, they made her who she was at that moment, but she wanted to leave them and this variation of herself behind, she wanted to become independent and someone she chose to become.

After picking Ino up the group was ready to go to the dress shop, Mikoto had asked Ino to sit in the front seat for she wanted to talk to Hinata in the back. Hinata couldn’t help but notice her friend’s red cheeks whenever she looked Naruto’s way. Hinata couldn’t tell if the flushness was due to the fact that Naruto was a man Ino had never had contact with when she was young, thus she wasn’t used to his company, or whether her blush had a deeper meaning. In the backseat, Mikoto explained certain details about the wedding preparations, her tone was light and she talked without any formalities. Whenever Hinata answered it was an awkward mix of formal and informal language and she refrained from addressing Mikoto directly, for she didn’t know what to call her, Mrs Uchiha, or was that too formal for someone to be her mother-in-law in 3 weeks? Mikoto, but wasn’t that rude to address in such a manner to an older relative?

Upon reaching the dress shop, the designer working there assured the women that she had reserved the whole shop just for them. She was eager to help and to please any and all of Hinata’s requests. “Call me Sakura!” she said as they met “no need for formalities, after all I am here to help you find what you will be wearing on the most important day of your life”

Hinata tried on 5 dresses before finding ‘the one’. It was perfect in every way possible. The bodice was made entirely of lace that was a bit see-through, thus had white material around the chest area in a heart shape. The skirt was long and flowy but not overly heavy, it had beautiful lace details on the bottom of the skirt and a split on the left leg until above the knee. It was a stunning dress, but so were all the ones before, however, the moment Hinata tried it on, it felt different, it felt right. Seeing herself in the mirror her eyes got a bit misty and in her overflow of emotion turned around to hug Sakura who just finished buttoning the last button at her back. She told her how she felt the dress was the one and Sakura’s eyes got a bit misty too. This is what she did that job for, these moments in which a young woman found her perfect one and only dress to wear on her wedding day, she lived to see the happy tears and all the smiles.

“Stay here for a second, I’ll announce that this is it, this is the dress” She learned in the years of doing this job that whenever an instant click between woman-dress happened it should always be said to the party that came to help pick the dress as well so they would not criticize anything and break the magic spell of the moment. “Hinata found it, her perfect dress” Sakura said just moments before Hinata walked in wearing the most radiant smile ever, Ino screamed and ran to hug her and shower her in compliments, Mikoto watched from the side-line as the three young women discussed how perfect the dress was. After a short while, Hinata turned to Mikoto with bashful red cheeks “What do you think Mrs. Uchiha?”

Mikoto went to her and hugged her close as well. “The dress is perfect, it’s everything I hoped you’d find and more” she made a short pause for she felt this pressure in the back of her throat as id she too was about to cry. “and please, call me mother, I know that the wedding will only be in 3 weeks, but you already are my child Hinata dear” Mikoto’s kindness and warmth only made Hinata cry more. Naruto watched with a smile the whole event, he too liked Hinata from what he had seen of her, he was glad his friend was lucky enough for the arranged marriage to lead him to her. Even before he met Hinata he saw Sasuke’s expression when talking about her, he heard the soft tone in which he spoke about her and could tell that his friend held a deep affection for his fiancé.

After the dress picking event, Hinata asked for Sakura’s number to call her in the instance of the dress needing anything done day-of the wedding, that was the excuse anyway, in reality, she simply felt as if the moment they shared in the dressing room was special and wanted to try and keep in contact with her. Their next destination was the wedding hall, followed by other shops to get the wedding shoes, jewellery and her second wedding outfit in which she would change after their first dance. Just like the days in which she had dates with Sasuke, the time flew by and soon enough it was dark outside and time for them to return. After dropping Ino off, instead of driving back to the Hyuuga estate, Naruto took a sudden left turn which led to Hinata’s confusion, doubt and for the smallest second fear. Mikoto placed her hand on her knee and smiled at her, letting her know there was nothing to be afraid of. Despite being quite late, it wasn’t dark out yet, the summer sun refused to set.

The car stopped in front of a restaurant Hinata knew. “Are we getting dinner as well?” She was wondering why did they drop Ino off, maybe Mikot had something to discuss with her in private? Before she could come up with any other speculations, her car door opened and a familiar face greeted her with a smirk on. Her heart started beating faster the moment her eyes met Sasuke’s. She placed her hand in his and was smoothly pulled out of the car and into his arms. “Thank you, mother for dropping her off.” He said and then nodded towards Naruto expressing his thanks to him silently. Hinata was still in a daze and looking up at him as if he was a mere hallucination.

“I finished work earlier and Naruto told me you guys were still out so I asked him to bring you to me” He explained the situation to her and ushered her towards the entrance of the restaurant. It was the same restaurant in which they ate that pasta, out of all the things they tried together those were her favourite. Looking up at Sasuke Hinata kept wondering how Ino could expect her not to fall for him when he treated her this way, he had brought her more joy than she had experienced in her whole life, the memories she had of him were her favourite. He was slowly and steadily becoming the centre of her universe.

Since the moment they got seated and he reached out to hold her hand and slowly brush her wrist with his thumb, Hinata had been fighting the urge to simply utter ‘I love you’. Was it too fast? They met about 2 months ago, they went on dates about twice a week maybe three times if Sasuke’s work allowed for that, however they talked daily, her thoughts were filled with him. She wasn’t confused, these feelings might have started as gratitude for being saved, but they were romantic, she was in love with him, that much she knew. Sasuke noticed how distracted she was during their meal, she barely complimented the chef, but he decided not to pry yet, however, her silence during their walk after dinner bothered him more than he cared to admit. He loved how her eyes sparkled when she spoke about things she loved. She stopped walking and turned to face her, cupping her face in his hands, her eyes fluttered shut for a moment. She looked so lovely, and so utterly small and fragile, he would protect her with everything he had, he would help her build her strength enough to be able to protect herself, but even then, when she was capable, he’d do everything in his power to destroy anything that posed as a threat to her, whether physical, emotional or mental.

“What’s the matter Hinata? You’ve been in deep thought all night” he had been excited to hear all about her day, Naruto kept him updated every hour, but hearing the events from her would have been much more entertaining. Hinata looked into his eyes longingly, he wasn’t sure what she wanted but whatever it was he would give it to her. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath in.

“I have been...thinking whether I should tell you something the whole night and I cannot seem to find the right answer, what do you think I should do?” her eyes were still closed, too scared to see his reaction. Sasuke was the one confused now, why would she be struggling in such a manner? She should always tell him everything, anything no matter how trivia, he wanted to know every single thought that went on in her mind.

Sasuke took a step closer to her, their bodies were almost touching and he was still affectionately holding her face. “I think you should tell me; I think you should always tell me everything” Hinata’s heart was beating out of her chest, she was scared to look into his eyes as she said it, but she wanted to see him as she said it too. Choosing to be brave today, choosing to believe that Sasuke would catch her when she fell, Hinata opened her eyes, placed both of her hands over his on her face and smiled.

“Ok, I will tell you” Her mind was made, but she still needed a second to compose herself. “I love you”

The feeling Hinata had when putting the dress on was similar to what Sasuke experienced upon hearing those words, however, the magnitude of his feeling was much stronger, it felt as if the planets aligned, as if all the events ever in the world and its history happened as they did in order to lead to this very moment. A star exploded that lead to the creation of a galaxy, to the creation of a planet, to the creation of humanity, all for this one single moment.

He had not thought in depth about his feelings for Hinata, not because he didn’t want to admit them, but rather because it was unknown territory, but the moment she uttered the words he knew them to be true on his side as well. “I’m glad” he answered, his voice cracked so he cleared his throat. “I’m glad you decided to tell me” Hinata’s smile was stunning, she had told him and he was happy, he was moved, she could see a myriad of emotions in his eyes, all slowly falling into place. Sasuke wanted to say the words back but felt oddly fearful and uncertain, he had never experienced that level of awkwardness. “I do too” he muttered feeling defeated, he had chickened out and took a shortcut, but he will try to work harder, he will be able to express his feelings.

Hinata wasn’t mad or sad or disappointed by his answer, she could tell he was trying his best and if she were honest, it was lovely seeing him be the flustered one for a change. They were still in the same position, their faces close to each other, so Hinata once again took the initiative and raised on her tip-toes and kissed him, it was merely a peck. She knew the Uchiha traditions now and wished to follow them thus not being able to fully kiss him, however, the moment felt monumental enough for a small peck to be excused, plus nobody would ever know.

Sasuke stared at her for a moment longer, she was such a complex antithesis, she was weak yet strong, afraid yet brave, clueless yet intelligent, and everything about her made him glad for all the decisions he ever took that led him to her. He was thankful to his father which without even realizing he showed, since his and Hinata’s engagement was announced he and Fugaku have been getting along much better, everything at work went smoother and he often worked harder and faster in order to get a day off to spend with her. Hinata too helped him, their relationship was equally beneficial to both, they both took and both gave.

________

All of the final preparations for the wedding were coming along beautifully, the big event was the next day, but for Hinata even that was too long, the past three months had felt longer than her whole life before her engagement. Everything was better in the Hyuuga household, Neji and her were closer than ever, for he was finally able to be fully honest with her and she too was much happier and open. Her father mostly left her alone, apart from a small incident in which he admitted that he had spoken to her doctors to have her fertility tested almost half a year ago when he and Fugaku were first talking about the union, the test came back positive, but Hinata still felt like that was a huge invasion of her privacy and complained to Sasuke, who in turn argued with both of the older men, but the deed was long done and there wasn’t much he could do but think even lower of Hiashi and treat his father coldly for a while, until Hinata assure him that she had moved past that issue. Even Hanabi stopped her remarks after the incident on the wedding-dress day. After choosing the dress she and Mikoto went out to spend time together a few more times, she even met up separately with Ino and Sakura twice. When Hinata talked about her new friendship with Sasuke he was, in her words ‘delighted’; Sasuke had hoped for the wedding dress girl to become Hinata’s friend after she first told him about her. He had wanted her to have a friend that was well-versed into normality in order to help Hinata at times navigate society, however, he wished for that friendship to bloom naturally, sure he could have done as others would, namely bribe someone into being her friend, but that would only cause issues later, plus being close to Hinata is payment enough.

The weekend before the wedding Hinata was invited to have dinner at the Uchiha estate, she and Mikoto were already very close, however, Fugaku still scared her a little while Itachi seemed nice, but maybe a bit cold and detached, unwilling to fully interact with this world. He reminded her a little of herself when she still lived at the Hyuuga household. Being able to form that connection, after dinner she sought him out and talked to him alone, trying to relate his feelings with her own. Itachi wanted to be freed from his family much like she did, however, the ties keeping him there were much stronger, he loved all of his family but could not fully function and integrate into their world of organized crime.

After her talk to Itachi ended, Fugaku apologized for breaching her privacy and welcomed her to the family. She knew how much that meant, her father had never apologized for anything, so she could only imagine how hard it must have been for Fugaku to step over his pride and ego, she appreciated it more than she let on.

The night before the wedding Hinata had a dream, in that dream, she and Sasuke were laying together on a bed just looking at each other while holding themselves close, she felt at peace with her surroundings and Sasuke’s eyes on her made her feel seen and loved. The whole dream was peaceful, they sit in silence, then talk a little followed by kisses and laughs, which would quiet down to silence and the circle would start anew.

When her servants woke her up at 5 am, she wasn’t annoyed as she normally would have been before any other event, she had taken with her the peacefulness of her dream, she had waited so long for this day it almost felt like this was just another dream too, but the scrubbing her servants did during her bath stung, letting her know that this was reality, the happiness she felt was going to be a constant, for Sasuke will make sure to keep her smiling throughout their whole lives.

Unlike the preparations for other events in which Hinata didn’t particularly care about her looks, she was very specific this time around, she and Mikoto picked together her hairstyle too, her makeup colours and every little detail. Time seemed to dilate at times and a minute felt like an eternity, while other times it felt as if it were on fast-forward, she’d close her eyes for a second and a full hour would have passed.

By 9 am she was completely done, looking at herself in the mirror she remembered the day the engagement was announced, how picturing herself next to Sasuke felt strange, but now, picturing herself without him felt unnatural, her brain and heart finally agreed and they both knew Sasuke was her everything, he would be the one and only to ever stand by her side. While she was admiring herself in the mirror Neji walked in, telling her it was time to go to the church, the wedding was about to begin.

Nothing could ruin her perfect day, not even Hiashi holding her hand proudly as he walked her down the aisle, not even Hanabi refusing to make eye contact with her, all she could see and all that mattered was Sasuke at the end of the red rug, standing tall and handsome. Everything that had happened before in her life almost didn’t matter, this was the moment her life began. She barely heard anything the priest said, her answers were mostly done on auto-pilot, only when it was the moment for the rings to be exchanged did her eyes water, hearing Sasuke say ‘I do’ was a memory she’ll treasure forever. Their first official kiss was short, much shorter than she had hoped it would be, but even that didn’t ruin her mood, for she had walked inside a Hyuuga and left an Uchiha.

It was during their first dance that Sasuke whispered “I love you” he softly into her ear, only for her alone to hear, it had taken him a bit longer than her but he got to the point in which he could express his feeling in words too, for he had told her he loved her countless times with his actions alone. “I love you too” she replied and pulled his face to her for a kiss, not caring remotely that people were watching her. She would not be punished for causing a scene, Hiashi had no more power over her and Sasuke would never cage her or treat her like an inferior. She had the freedom to do whatever she wanted, and her first choice was to kiss her husband in front of all of those people on her wedding night.

@sasuhinamonth

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wizkiddx · 4 years ago

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a father and daughter

I don't normally hop on the whole dad!tom thing, but this idea kinda popped up and wouldn't leave me alone. Hope everyone is having a lovely festive period and wish you all well in the new year x x x

Summary: Tom really struggles to get into the parenting thing, and finds it tricky balancing work and his relationship with baby daughter

Tom loved being a Dad. It had only been a couple of months, meaning your baby girl was still very much a baby - yet still he had no doubt, this was the best job one could ever ever do. To be honest he was quite regretting agree to the few work commitments he had started to ease back into too. It wasn’t like he couldn’t afford to go these months without work, which not many had the luxury of saying - but in this industry work agreements were lined up years before and he was never one to disappoint.

Of course, as soon as you both had found out you were expecting, he’d withdrawn from the big filming project across the world but that didn’t mean he avoided the odd week of press, or a couple days flying abroad for fittings and meetings. By absolutely no means would you ever class him as a slightly ‘absent’ dad, you completely understood and when he was home did way more than his fair share with Amelie.

But Tom felt guilty and he felt like he was inferior to you in parenting ability. And you knew that was for one reason and one reason only. He did not have boobs.

You were well aware that as much as you loved Amelie needing you so much and so often - sometimes being the only person able to soother her - was because all she wanted was to drain you of milk. She was clearly going to be a Daddy’s girl, and who could blame her when her Dad was Tom. But for right now, a mere 5 months old - she loved you because she loved your tit.

The first time you had noticed Tom’s growing frustration was right after his first evening work commitment since her arrivel, he’d been on a UK chat show earlier in the evening and as encouraged by you, had taken the opportunity to have a few drinks after with his brothers and friends. By no means did he return late, barely midnight, but he did return just a little tipsy. You were still up choosing to have a little movie night to yourself, whilst Amelie slept in the Moses basket next to the couch. Just before Tom got back though, she had woken up and for no reason was the smiliest little girl. So when Tom let himself into the front door, he was greeted with the sound of Amelie’s little bubbles of laughter, while you spoke in baby language - pulling ridiculous faces and laughing with her.

“Someones smiley” Tom laughed as he plopped down on the sofa next to you, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head and wrapping his arm round your shoulder as he smiled at Amelie.

“Aren’t you Meelie? How was the show love?” You asked, as you held Amelie in a sitting position on your thighs so she was staring at you both.

“Hmm it was nice, couldn’t make myself stay for too long though… just missed my girls.” His voice was a little rough, something that happens after talk show and then almost shouting over the obnoxiously loud music in the pub after. Amelie, laughed again at his words, almost taunting her Dad’s attachment to her, making both of you burst out laughing. She already had you both wrapped round her very little finger.

Shaking your head, you passed her over to Tom muttering needing a wee and made a quick escape. Ever since you had her, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave her unattended - meaning you had almost made your kidneys explode holding in a wee waiting for Tom to get back. Yet as soon as you made it out the door, the bubbling innocent laughter turned into screams - but at that point you’d already made it out the doorframe - marking that as Tom’s issue to handle. Unfortunately the wails continued, very very loud and proud, and when you returned Tom was pacing slowly around the lounge with a grimace on his face as Amelie screamed into his shoulder.

“I’ll stay up with her if you want.” You offered, knowing Tom without sleep and having to listen to her racket all night would have an impressively worse hangover tomorrow.

“No I got it, think she needs a change.” Tom countered, even though you were pretty sure she wanted a feed, since it had been a good couple of hours from the last. He noticed your hesitance and shooed you out the room “I got it love, you’ve had her all evening.”

“You know where I’ll be” You smiled lightly, leaving them downstairs as you got ready for bed.

It was after about 10 minutes of thrashing about guiltily in your otherwise empty bed, you gave in to the still continuous screaming. Amelie clearly was just hungry, even if Tom refused to admit it and bring her to you. So with a deep sigh you gave in, swinging your legs over the side of the bed and trudged downstairs. Tom was still stood up, taking gentle bouncing steps as Amelie apparently tried to deafen him. Once he saw you, with a defeated look, Tom offered her to you. Instantly, as if you just had the ability to turn the crying switch on her off- Amelie stopped crying and blinked away the tears in her eyes, whilst waiting patiently for you to offer her your nipple. While you were busy trying to get her to latch on, you just caught Tom muttering something as he trudged up to bed without so much as a good night.

Then a couple months later a similar thing occurred. Tom had been away in New York for 5 days, a little press stint that he had under no circumstances been able to get off. At first all had been well but two days since he returned, Tom insisted you finally had an evening out with the girls - to be honest, after spending the best part of a week alone with Meelie you graciously took it. Oh, and also of importance for context, Amelie spoke her first word while he was away… Mama.

You’d left that morning, your best friend taking you on a spa day before - so by the time Tom called you at 11 in the evening, he’d spent a good portion of the day with Amelie vehemently denying to do anything at all apart from yell- yelling “NO MAMA.” So fair to say he was pissed. You answered the phone with a soft smile, honestly finding spending this much time apart from Amelie really hard and guilt-inducing.

“Hey Tom everything okay?”

“Um when do you think you’ll be back?” He spoke straight and to the point, clearly not in the mood for small talk.

“I don’t think too long, is everything alright?” His tone made you so much more concerned, now worrying that something had happened.

“No no everything’s fine. Just… just been a long day.”

“Okay well I’ll be back soon I promise. I love you.”

“Yeh yeh um you too” He didn’t mean to be short. Nor to make you worried. He didn’t hate you - far the opposite, he hated how much Amelie loved you.

If he was being honest, he just felt like a bit of a failure of a father. As a child himself, Tom had always been incredibly close to his mum and thought the typical rule was mummy’s boys and daddy’s girls stood. So why then, did his child appear to absolutely detest him with every look. Especially because, given the nature of his job, once Tom went back to actually shooting films again he’d be around much less - and that the relationship between him and Amelie would at least be geographically strained. Unrequited love is always the worst and ultimately most painful, especially when it involves your own child.

This underlying and unspoken tension fizzled away for a decent amount of months and Tom went on his first job. At this point you were no longer breastfeeding, but still you knew that purely instinctively if Amelie was ever scared, upset or unhappy she would seek you first. It was bloody obvious to you that she did love Tom, she chuckled away like no tommorrow when he played with her and spun her round the room. And yet, you could still tell Tom wasn’t completely convinced and still seemed , just a bit aware and hesitant.

In there ever needed to be any proof though, it must’ve been how stroppy Amelie got once Tom left. In short, for you, it was hell. You ended up constantly wearing Tom’s t-shirts, not for you but because the mild but lingering scent of him seemed to soothe Amelie when she was fussing. She would never giggle like she did when her silly Daddy was here to be her personal comedian. She had, however, finally learnt how to say Dada - which now she was shouting impressively at every point apart from when you tried to film it. She was a little devil, its like she knew exactly what to do to make you life as hard as possible - keeping you dealing with an unhappy Tom. You tried to tell him, when you were on FaceTime each evening - but no matter how many times you promised, it seemed that Tom had a hard time believing you.

He was filming in Germany, which meant it wasn’t actually ‘that’ far from your London home and after two weeks he flew back for a weekend. You were incredibly excited- not just to seeing Tom, which of course you where; but also ,hopefully, for him to feel some sort of assurance in his ability as a parent. He needed to see her, Amelie needed her Daddy and you… you needed a rest.

That evening, you had had her balanced on your hip as you rushed to make the house look somewhat presentable (because single parenting was not easy) but Amelie had thrown a fit so with a slightly immature passive aggressive comment to your 11 month old daughter you put her on her play mat and carried on. It was a bit of a risk if you were quite honest, she was more than just a crawler - she perfected the art of bum shuffling and was starting to on occasion try to stand up. But you were in the same room so surely little harm could come to her in the ‘over-the-top-ly’ baby proofed living room - Tom’s doing of course.

So keeping one eye on Amelie and the other on the almost terrifyingly big stack of discarded toys you set about tidying up. It was all going swimmingly until your thoughts about how on earth you were going to hide all the crap were abruptly interrupted with a garbled screech of “DADA!”

You instantly whipped your head round to watch Amelie stumble and basically throw herself the couple of steps to the doorway where Tom stood. You had absolutely no clue how long he’d been standing there but that was all insignificant watching him sweep you little girl into his arms, before she could career to the floor (headfirst of course). His eyes were bugging out of his head, as she giggled and laughed in his strong grasp before astutely throwing her head into the crook of his neck, demanding to be cuddled by him.

It was almost hilarious, how utterly shocked Tom looked at the real life proof that his baby girl had missed him. Once he met your eyes he used the hand supporting Amelies back to point at her in a questioning manner, making you roll your eyes at just how oblivious and stubborn he is.

“She’s missed her Dad!” You smiled, as you walked toward him and pecked his lips. “You got this down here if I finally get some peace upstairs?”

Because yes, you’d missed your husband and wanted to spend all night wrapped in his arms. But really? There was a more important way the evening should pass, finally Tom getting his moment with Amelie. So without so much as even a ‘how was your flight’ you left the two in the living room - you making a beeline to the bath, for just a moment to yourself.

It was perhaps even a little shocking to yourself that you were so confident you could leave them alone for the evening. Because really, if Amelie started acting up suddenly again, this could be where Tom’s confidence as a dad goes from ‘ropey at best’ to ‘non-existent’. Except you were so certain in the fact that just wouldn’t happen. If she was hungry she’d take the bottle from Tom (which she never did from you without arguement ).

And so you had possible the most relaxing time in the bath - actually alone for the first time in two weeks.

It wasn’t until you quietly walked down the stairs two hours later that you got a bit suspicious of the silence downstairs. Cautiously you peered your head round the doorframe and you didn’t even try to stifle the beaming smile spread across your face. Because there was your husband, lying semi-reclined on the arm of the sofa, his arms wrapped protectively round Amelie who looked incredibly content snuggled up to her dad at last. They were both fast asleep and the sight was just so sweet it actually hurt your heart, meaning only naturally you had sneak a picture of them both. It was infuriating how you knew you had to wake him up - it is a little irresponsible to leave her lying on top of him on the couch and you kinda wanted to cuddle up to Tom this evening too.

So with a gentle touch rubbing and down his right arm it only took a moment or two till he suddenly blinked his eyes open, eyes looking quickly between your eyes and Amelie - his grasp on her had instinctively tightened a little.

“Hey” You whispered softly, watching him notice how calm Amelie looked on his chest.

“Mhmm hey.” His voice was slightly croaky, probably from the exhaustion of two weeks of hard work.

“You guys friends then?” You whispered while combing your ginger nails though Amelies little curls at the base of her neck - she was most deifnetly a Holland.

“She did really miss me?” Tom asked, still half not believing as he shuffled up on the sofa so he was sitting more upright.

“To the point she had me wrapping the pillows in your unwashed t-shirts.” You giggled as his bottom lip pouted into a visible ‘awh’.

“Come on lets get you both to bed.”

Without much complaint, but keeping her in his arms, Tom nodded and followed you up to bed. But that night instead of getting your way and having Tom cuddling you, he pouted until you let him lie Amelie down in the middle of the bed between you two .

But seeing the way he grinned at her in the dark, almost fighting to stay awake as he looked at her, the prospect seemed a lot more attractive.

And that was more than fine by you.

#tomholland #tom holland #tom holland fluff #tom holland x reader #dad!tom #happynewyear

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halcyonstorm · 4 years ago

Text

The Breeze from an Airplane

MAJOR SPOILER WARNINGS FOR CHAPTER 138/139 AOT MANGA

MAJOR TRIGGER WARNING: death, graphic images

Read on AO3

Pairing: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoe

Summary: Levi never thought the day would come where he had to relive the one of the most tragic moments of his life. He had finally begun to recover from Hange Zoe's tragic, sacrificial death. Now, two men stand at his door."We found Commander Hange's body."

Words: 4955

Levi received the worst news that evening. It was an inconvenient time to bear bad news, around 7pm. That was the time for Levi’s tea. It was usually a time for him to relax and unwind, but not tonight. The kettle was whistling; the tea was finished brewing. Levi had come out of the study and into the kitchen to retrieve the boiling water. Then, there was a knock at the door. It was strange. Usually, no one would come this late at night to bother him. He assumed it would be Armin coming to check up on him. He usually wrote to him as to when he would be stopping by. He hobbled to the door, feeling more apprehensive than he probably should’ve felt. He looked through the peephole in the door. Two men were dressed in suits. One wore round glasses, the other none. They must’ve had the wrong house.

“Mr. Ackerman,” The one with the glasses called out, knocking loudly again. Levi groaned, opening the door.

“What do you want?” Levi said, leaning against the door for support and crossed his arms. He forgot to bring his cane. The one with no glasses held a manila folder under his arm. The one with glasses wore a frown on his face. Levi’s eyes darted between the two of the mens’ faces.

“Mr. Ackerman. Good evening. We have some news for you.” The tone of his voice was neutral, as if they weren’t sure if it was good or bad news. His heart sank into his stomach, making him sick. What was it now? Haven’t I been through enough?

“We found Commander Hange’s body.”

It felt like two strong hands were slowly and steadily ripping his heart apart, every muscle, every nerve, every artery and vein came apart, leaking blood into each individual body cavity. His body began to feel heavy, blood leaking and drowning his body to its maximum. He had finally, finally, began to recover from losing her. Now, he was back to square one. He was brought back to that day on Odiha.

“And that’s that. I’ll see you guys later,” Hange said firmly, turning around to walk away. She called out to Armin.

“Oh, right. Levi’s your subordinate now, so work him to the bone. Okay?” Armin and the other’s faces read horror. Hange began to walk away from the group. As her decision began to settle with her, she felt herself begin to panic. She walked a bit before finding Levi. She didn’t intend to find him. She was scared to face him. She was scared to go. She didn’t let that show to Armin and the others, of course. She allowed her forced neutral expression transition into a deep frown. She felt her heart ache in her chest, and adrenaline began to pulse through her veins. As Hange forced her legs towards Levi, he called out.

“Hey, four-eyes.” She swallowed, feeling a lump form in her throat. He hadn’t called her that since she became Commander. She walked up to him, her shoulders in line with his. Hange wasn’t sure if she could look him in the eye, for her resolve could’ve broken at any time.

“You understand…” Hange began. He did understand, but he couldn’t accept what was doomed to happen, though. “It’s finally here. You know? ...It’s my turn.” Levi felt his heart ache. It seemed like all his senses shut down. The world had stopped around them. He wished to go back in time to the forest. Why couldn’t they have more time? Why did they have to meet in such unfortunate circumstances? It was pointless getting attached; He fell for Hange regardless, even though falling in love was suicide in the Survey Corps. Comrades, friends, and family died left and right. They were so close to freedom, to a peaceful life together that it physically pained him. He wished him and Hange forgot about the cruel world, even just for a little while. He was drowning in his pain at that time, but Hange helped him up to the surface. She was gentle when she sewed his face. Determined when she swam away with him to safety. Caring when she told him he didn’t need to get up. She protected him; this would be the third time he was saved by her. She was breaking his heart, well… whatever was left of it. He felt as if Hange herself shoved her hand into his chest, tearing his heart out.

“I want to look as cool as I possibly can right now. So please let me go.”

He thought it was very like Hange to say something like that. She wanted to look cool. She was still, even at this treacherous moment, trying to make light of the situation. But Levi could tell Hange was petrified. He couldn’t hold her back. He knew he could’ve easily changed her mind or broken her resolve, but he couldn’t bring himself to do that. He knew she had to go. He knew this day would come... but never did he believe it’d be so soon.

‘Please let me go.’ Those would haunt him for the restless nights to come.

He couldn’t think of what to say. He wanted to confess to her. To the person who has been by his side since day one. They have been there for each other no matter what. Levi fell for Hange every time he saw her.

I love you, he wanted to say.

I need you, he wanted to say.

Please, don’t go, he wanted to say.

But that would’ve been selfish. He couldn’t be selfish now. He had to be strong for her.

He raised his left hand and formed a fist. He struck it against her chest. Against her heart.

I dedicate my heart to you.

“Dedicate your heart,” He said, as strong as he could manage. He heard her breath hitch for a moment. Hange’s lips trembled. She knew what he meant. I love you, I need you. I dedicate my heart to you. Take my heart with you. Before her resolve was dissipated, she mustered up a laugh.

“Haha! That’s the first time I’ve heard you say that,” She said aloud. Her ODM gear zipped, and she was gone. There was a breeze that passed as she flew away. She took his heart with her. His chest was hollow. What she said was true: It’s the first time she heard him say it, but it’s also the first time he said it ever.

He had tried to reach Hange telepathically. She must’ve been too focused on the task at hand to respond. He saw her killing Colossal titans left and right as she flew through the sky. He was so proud of her. “You know I love you, right?” He told her as he hobbled onto the plane. “I will be forever in debt to you.” Deep down, he knew she heard him.

The plane took off. Levi couldn’t bring himself to look out the window like his comrades. They were screaming Hange’s name, crying, wishing it didn’t have to end like this. He didn’t want to remember Hange as she died. He remembered her as the strong, intelligent, brave Commander she had always been. He remembered her gentle touch when she wrapped his hands. He squeezed his bandaged hands together, reminiscing of his Hange.

“See you, Hange. Keep watching us.”

Levi passively allowed the two men into his house and shut the door behind them. The two men sat down at his dining table. Levi used his cane to assist him to the kitchen, pouring himself a cup of his favorite evening tea. It steeped too long; however, and it had turned sour. His lips puckered, pouring out the tea into the sink. He walked to the table and sat down. He stared blankly into the white linen table cloth.

“It’s up to you, Mr. Ackerman, whether or not you’d like an open casket. The body isn’t in good shape, I’ll be honest with you.” The body. That’s all it was to them. Hange’s dead body. She is a person one minute, a body the next. The two men must’ve delivered this news a thousand times to other distraught family members. Their tone expressed no sympathy whatsoever. All they cared about was business. “We will escort you to the morgue so you can see for yourself.” The morgue. He forced himself to nod, even though agreeing to see her body was asking for torture.

“If you choose, you’d have to hold the wake soon. The preservation chemicals can only hold for a few days before the body begins to --”

“I get it,” Levi interrupted with a shaky voice. He couldn’t let them finish that sentence. He would’ve broken down right there. He used his cane to push himself onto his two feet. “I’ll get Onyankapon.” He slowly hobbled into the back room where Onyankapon was. He was very torn up about Hange, too. Levi knew they were close. He was in his desk chair, reading. He saw Levi right as he entered, his presence altering the mood of the room from calm to anguish.

“Two men are here. They found Hange’s body,” Levi muttered, unable to make eye contact with his roommate. Onyankapon’s face turned sour and he stood up. “They’re gonna take us to see her.”

The ride to the morgue was quiet. Quiet was an understatement. It was mute, void of any sound. No one spoke. No one dared to put the music on in the vehicle. The streets were quiet. It was late in the evening when the bearers of bad news arrived at their place. It was cold. No one was walking about the town. The morgue, as it turns out, wasn’t far away. This made Levi shudder. Her body was so close to him in proximity. Her dead body.

They arrived at the morgue, Onyankapon got out of the vehicle first to help Levi. He submissively accepted his help following the two men inside. As they neared her room, Levi felt his heart begin to pump faster. He didn’t know what she would look like. How did she really die? Was she trampled? Burned alive? Both? He was starting to ask himself why he agreed to this. He didn’t want to know. He didn’t think he could handle seeing her again. Seeing her body again, after all this time had passed. He stopped dead in his tracks. The two men continued walking and reached the room, but Onyankapon stopped.

“Levi,” he said. He tentatively placed a hand on his shoulder. “We should do this.” Levi could tell he was anxious too. That comforted him, in a strange way.

Levi kept telling his legs to move, and finally they listened.

“The body was in bad shape when we found it. We were able to reconstruct what we can, but without knowing what she looked like prior to the incident, she may not look the same.” Reconstruct? Just how bad was it? One of the two men held the door open. Onyankapon allowed Levi to see her first. He wasn’t sure if that was a good idea or not once he walked into the room. Levi and the man with glasses entered the room. It was a shabby room with peeling grey wallpaper. The overhead light buzzed annoyingly. The room was very cold. In the center of the room was the body, covered with a light blue drape. At the foot of the bed, it read “Hange Zoe.”

“Whenever you’re ready,” he said monotonously, holding the edge of the drape. Levi could always sense when Hange was around. She was right there, yet he couldn’t sense her presence. Levi took a deep, quivering inhale. He would never be ready, but he nodded anyways. It seemed like the man pulled the drape off her face in slow motion. He was shaking. Horrified of what could be. Once the drape was off, the man left the room, closing the door. Levi's eyes were fixated in the corner of the dim, grey room. He couldn’t bring himself to look at first. He didn’t want to look, but he wanted to look so bad. He wanted her to be alive.

It was worse. Much, much worse than he thought.

Now he knew what they meant by reconstruct. Her body was extremely flat. Her skull must’ve been crushed in, but whoever fixed her up must’ve reconstructed her skull so her face was somewhat normal again. The oxygen seemed to be sucked out of the room; He felt himself desperately gasping for air once he saw her face. His knees buckled underneath him, and he fell at the bedside, his head resting on the tops of his hands, hot tears gushing uncontrollably from his eyes. A strangled sound escaped from his lips. When he managed to look at her face through glassy eyes, he was taken aback. Right away he noticed her nose was different. From the side, it looked reconstructed to be turned-up, which did not suit Hange at all. It looked nothing like Hange, yet so much like her at the same time. Her skin was dark red and brown, charred from the steam of the colossal titans. It was dry and peeling around her eyes, nose, cheeks, and chin. There were multiple blisters scattered over her head and neck. Her eyes were closed, but her eyelashes and eyebrows were fried off. The hair on her head, the hair he loved so much, was thin, sparse, and ratty. Most of it had burnt off too. Her eyepatch must’ve been lost, exposing the scar tissue of her left eye. She must have suffered. No doubt about it. He hated the thought of her suffering. It made the tears flow harder. This was the woman he loved; Now a dead, lifeless corpse.

He moved the drape out of the way to look at her hands. They were burnt, too. Skin and muscle burnt, bones broken. He was almost positive every bone in Hange’s body was broken. Her body was frail. So still. It seemed so strange for her to be so still. It was so unlike her. Usually, she could never stay still. She was never quiet, always being the brightest and loudest in the room. He enjoyed it; it was strangely comforting. He never knew how much he loved it until it was gone. The humming of the overhead light fills the room. She was dead, and that was for certain.

“Hange,” He whimpered, looking in his lap. Tears wet his lap. “You weren’t able to stay out of the action after all.” He was so proud of his Commander. She sacrificed herself for him and their comrades without hesitation. She sacrificed her life for his. His life was worth so damn much to her that she would die for him. She did die for him.

Levi wiped his eyes and cheeks with his shirt, causing his sleeve to dampen. He stood up. He gently placed his left fist against her broken chest.

“My heart is yours.”

He was still bugged by how still Hange’s body was. He wanted to tell her to wake up. Join me. Live with me. Be with me. He allowed his selfish thoughts to take over for just a brief moment. Onyankapon knocked on then opened the door slowly, checking in on Levi. His eyes quickly jolted from Levi to the corpse on the table. Tears welled up in his eyes instantaneously as he rushed to the other side of her.

“God, Hange,” He sighed, his voice shaking. “What happened to you…” He wasn’t able to drown himself in his feelings after she was left on the island. He had to man the plane. He had to shift the plane into motion and into the air, leaving his close friend behind to die. All the suppressed emotions came flowing out of him when he saw her burnt body.

After a few minutes passed, the two distraught men came out of the room.

“We decided on a closed casket,” Levi muttered. He couldn’t let the other’s see her like this.

“Okay. There is a funeral home just down the block which--”

“That’s fine.”

“Okay…” One of the men scowled. “How is two days from now?”

“That’s fine.”

One of the men smiled insincerely with a nod. “It’s settled. 5pm.”

Two days was more than enough time to contact the 104. Everyone was quick to accept the invite. Levi didn’t know if he could do it. If he could go through all this pain again. He had laid his suit out neatly on his bed.

Today’s the day you are put to rest, Commander.

He picked up his white button-down, sliding his arms through the sleeve holes. He remembered how Hange used to get ready with him from time to time.

“Hange,” Levi called out, storming over to her. “Your shirt isn’t even buttoned right. I know you can barely see as it is but damn, I didn’t think your eyesight was this bad.”

He started to unbutton her top. He noticed Hange’s cheeks flush a bit. Once he got to the top, he began to button it correctly.

“Sorry. I am in a rush to get to a meeting,” she would say.

Levi shook his head. “You can’t go like this.”

“What would I do without you?” Hange would say, laughing.

What would I do without you? he now asked himself.

His shirt was buttoned up to the top. He grabbed his cravat, tucking it into his collar. He sat down to put his trousers on. He took a deep breath. Putting pants on was always a struggle each morning. His legs barely worked on their own anymore. Onyankapon suggested a wheelchair, maybe he should finally submit to the offer.

He leaned down to put his socks and dress shoes on. For the most part, the only time he wore a suit was to funerals or memorials. He disliked the suit, but now he hated it. He hated the reason he had to wear it.

He went to grab his suit jacket when he paused. He turned to his closet, deciding to wear the black jacket him and Hange shared. She had worn it last. He had tried not to wear it so the scent wouldn’t dissipate. He held it to his face, taking a sentimental whiff of her scent. It smelt of fresh soil and a hint of sweat. There was a special scent he couldn’t quite place, but it was Hange’s signature scent. Maybe it was the detergent she used or the soap she used (or didn’t use) in the shower, but it was her. He hadn’t smelt the jacket since she died, but he couldn’t help himself anymore. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he felt as if he could sob right then and there. He slid the jacket on him, the jacket being slightly too big for him but he didn’t care. He put his thumb and fingers to the lateral part of his eyes, squeezing inward. He silently sobbed. He was allowed to; no one was around.

After a few moments passed, he took a sharp inhale and closed his eyes slowly. He was starting to question why he had agreed to hold a funeral for her. It was for them, the 104. He patted his eyes with a tissue, took another deep breath, and then went to the living room. Onyankapon was shuffling through a box.

“Ready?” He asked. Levi nodded.

“What’s with the box?” Levi asked, turning the door knob and opening the door.

“Some of Hange-san’s belongings from the accident. Those two men dropped this off last night.”

“I see.”

He decided he shouldn’t go through it now. He would get too worked up. Besides, her clothes were probably burnt and unsalvageable anyways. Onyankapon popped open a wheelchair, gesturing for Levi to sit down. Levi could barely walk, let alone stand, anymore. He hobbled over and slowly sat down, groaning slightly. Onyankapon wheeled him outside, shutting the door. Outside were the same two men, ready to escort Levi and Onyankopon to the funeral home. They were standing in front of a long, black limousine. One of the back doors was opened. As he was wheeled to the car, Levi glanced to his left and saw the hearse. It was black and had small, purple, velvet curtains behind the windows. She was in there. Levi couldn’t look away even though he wanted to. Levi felt tears start to pool in his eyes, but he quickly blinked them away. He stood up, getting into the black vehicle. Onyankapon folded up the wheelchair and got in beside him.

Like the ride a few days ago, no one spoke. It was mute. Levi’s stomach churned each time he thought about having to see the 104 again, talking about their lost Commander. Within 10 minutes, they arrived at the funeral home. There were a ton of people standing outside the funeral home, chatting amongst themselves and waiting to get inside. Levi stopped frowning. All these people were here to see Hange. It made his heart swell. The car stopped and was parked. The man with the glasses opened the door on Levi’s side, helping him out. The wheelchair was already propped open for him. Levi sat and he was wheeled to Onyankapon. He saw familiar faces: Mikasa, Armin, Gabi, Falco, Jean, Connie, Annie, Reiner… These people really cared about her, he thought. His stomach wasn’t hurting anymore.

Onyankapon and Levi were allowed into the funeral home first with the two men. It reeked of stale flowers. There was a beautiful gold chandelier hanging from the ceiling in the entryway that glistened when the sun shone on it. The carpet had a red and burgundy checkered pattern. He stared at it as he was pushed to Hange’s service room. They finally arrived. There were rows and rows of metal chairs lined up, facing right, to the casket. Casket. That word right there almost made Levi lose it. There were beautiful flowers of all colors surrounding the casket. Yellow, red, pink, purple. Hange loved flowers, especially bright ones. It was very fitting. The casket was a rich dark mahogany color with a thick golden railing on either side. It was tragically beautiful. There was a small red velvet cushion on the floor in front of the casket for people to pray. There was a black and white banner that hung above the casket. “14th Commander of the Survey Corps,” It said in small text towards the top. “Hange Zoe,” it said in big text underneath. Levi admired it for a while. He was curious who set all this up. Could it have been Onyankapon? The 104? He made a mental note to find out and thank them. Levi was facing the casket now. Levi pushed off the armrests and kneeled on the semi-hard cushion. Onyankapon kneeled next to him. Levi wasn’t one to pray, but figured now may be a good time to start. He laced his fingers together, pressing his forehead against his thumbs and closed his eyes.

Dear Hange, thank you for saving my shitty life. Thank you for all you’ve done for me. I am so proud of you... I miss you every day. Are you still watching me? At that moment, someone must’ve opened a window because he felt a gentle breeze pass by him, caressing his face as it wooshed by. This caused Levi to open his eyes and look behind him. There was one big window, but it was locked shut. Levi took a deep breath, smiling. Rest easy, four-eyes.

He pushed himself to stand, then sitting back in the wheelchair. Onyankapon finished his prayer, a tear streaming down his face. The two men recognized they were done and allowed the rest of the visitors inside. The doors to her room opened, people started flooding in. Levi took this time to wheel himself over to the brown cork board that hung on the left side of the room. It contained photos of Hange. For the most part, he recognized the photos. There was one in specific he never saw before though, and it wasn’t on the board either. It was a large portrait of Hange in a dark wood frame that sat on an easel. He admired this photo the longest. It must’ve been painted of her when she had just become Commander. She had her beautiful chestnut hair up in her typical ponytail (which was neater than usual), her black eyepatch on, her thin oval glasses sat on the bridge of her nose, and she wore her olive green Survey Corps jacket. She wore the oval green stone around her neck, which sat at the top of her chest. There was a hint of a smile in the photo, even though the painter insisted she kept a straight face. Hange persuaded him to make her smile in the portrait, though. Levi thought she looked breathtaking.

He felt a hand gently touch his shoulder. He tensed slightly, turning around. He saw Armin and Annie together. They were both dressed well and teary-eyed.

“It’s good to see you Levi. We are sorry for your loss,” Armin said, shaking Levi’s hand and placing his other hand on top of his. Afterwards, Armin stuck a hand in his pocket.

“You, too. Thanks,” Levi replied.

“Hange-san handed me this after she made her decision to stay behind,” Armin explained, handing Levi an envelope which was folded in half. “It was addressed to you.” Levi took it from the new Commander, turning it to see the envelope addressed to “Levi” in Hange’s handwriting.

“Thank you, Armin,” Levi nodded at him.

“What do you think of the flowers?” Annie asked, sitting down in the front row of metal chairs. Levi looked towards the flowers again.

“Hange would’ve loved them,” he replied. Annie smiled sadly. “She would have.”

Mikasa came up behind Armin, giving a small wave to Levi. Armin stepped out of the way, allowing Mikasa to pass. She took both his hands into hers, looking into his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Levi,” She whimpered, her eyes tearing up. She felt at fault for Hange’s death. She thought maybe she could’ve saved her, but didn’t. The truth is, Levi didn’t blame anyone specifically for her death. “If you need anything, I’m here for you.” Deep down, he knew usually no one actually reached out for help from others. He appreciated the offer, though.

“Thank you, Mikasa,” he replied.

As the lot of people passed by to visit Hange, Levi grew sick of the apologies. He appreciated them, but he couldn’t bear seeing everyone’s sad faces anymore. It made him feel worse. He told Onyankapon he was going outside for some air. The stale flower stench was starting to sink into his clothes and skin. He wheeled himself out of the room, down the hall, and through the doors. The sun was beginning to set on the horizon, shining beautiful shades of pink and red throughout the city. He took the envelope out of his pocket, slowly but surely unfolding the letter. He began to read.

Dear Levi,

You will receive this for one of two reasons: one, I am dead; or two, I worked up the courage to personally hand it to you. I hope it’s the latter. I know I am being selfish when I say this, but I wish we stayed in the forest together a little while longer. I began to write this after that day.Currently, you are asleep in the carriage I built. I stopped to make dinner for us. I barely had time, but I had to get my thoughts in writing.

I think I am going to die soon. So, I had to tell you how I felt before I go. I know my time is coming up very fast, and I am not afraid to die. That is what we signed up for when we joined the Survey Corps, after all. What is bothering me is when. I wish it’d be peaceful in a warm, comfortable bed. I doubt that, though. If it’s true, maybe we would be living together. Isn’t it true that if you live with someone for a long time, you’re considered married by common law? I wouldn’t mind being married to you, Levi. I wouldn’t mind waking up every morning and you’re nearby. I wouldn’t mind spending every day with you. We could explore the world together. Leave these walls in the past and be free, together. I can study vegetation, you can open the tea shop you’ve always dreamt about. Maybe I’d discover new plants and food for us to try. Or maybe I’d work to create inventions. Maybe I’d create a new type of food or plant. Maybe I’d invent a more efficient flying boat. Well… whatever I do, I hope it’s with you. Even if I am gone when you read this, live your life. Explore the world. I’ll be right by your side. I promise.

Always yours,

Hange Zoe

Levi held the letter close to his heart. His heart was throbbing and felt like it would burst out of his chest. Tears were flowing uncontrollably down his cheeks and into his lap. He folded up the letter, careful not to rip it. He slid it into the envelope, sticking it in the inside pocket of his, their, jacket. He looked up to the beautiful pink sky and saw a flying boat pass by, buzzing in the air.

I’ll be right by your side. I promise.

#levihan #levihan fic #levihan fanfiction #levi ackerman #hange zoe #hanji zoe #levi x hange #levi x hanji #AoT #snk #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #levihan one shot #levihan oneshot #rivahan

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theredsuzuran · 4 years ago

Text

Yandere Muzan x Reader

I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors, also for my crappy writing I hope It does not bore you lol. Slight mention of gore

It was the time of summer

A multitude of people hovering over one another in the vast space of the lively Asakusa city occupying the streets like tiny ants. Unfortunately it was same monotonous sight for kibutsuji Muzan progenitor of the morbid demon race, who seems to be roaming around uninterestingly looking for a suitable prey to hunt. The fleeting lives of mortals, their compassion, happiness, sorrow, pain held no value to him. They are pests who belong in the dirt or beneath his feet, inferior compare to a perfect being like himself. Nothing more than a tool that he won't hesitate to discard after his desires are fulfilled. All of a sudden his gaze felt upon a petite figure near a tailor shop, a large number of people gathering around her.

What's the matter, mister? Muzan inquired to a man next to him.

"if you are new definitely try her kimonos, now make way" the man said quickly as he rushed to the shop pushing all the people away. He was interested to know what the deal was about so he decided to stay for a while hoping it's worth the wait.

After a long delay muzan finally got the chance to view the women. As their eyes locked the dazzling city lights broader than the day itself felt dull in comparison for a moment, the once monochromatic world seems to change vibrantly with her luminous presence, As if goddess Amaterasu, the diety of sun herself have ascended from the heaven into the mortal realm. The demon lord stood there mesmerized by her breathtaking beauty, how can someone so close to perfection exist alongside those barbarians.

"How can I help you mister?" She questioned politely with her soft vocal. His endless thoughts were interrupted breaking the silence.

"Show me your kimonos"

And so his obsession started..

Days passed since his last encounter with the woman. He have come across numerous marvelous humans in everlasting lengthy life but never have his ruby eyes caught a glimpse of someone as alluring as her. The girl possesses an unique aura that differentiated her from the rest of the crowd, able to draw attention from the cold hearted creator of cannibalistic demons. At first muzan was just curious to know about that woman, possibly persuade her to become one of his underling because of the potentials she may carry. He frequently begun to visit her shop to but or sew different fabrics. Gaining basic information, like her name, likes and dislikes, etc. Her grandfather owned the tailor shop which sold finest quality garments from the beginning and were highly respected for their excellent tailoring. Continued by (y/n) at her family's will, who runs the shop with equal undying devotion.

She treated him with such kindness even though he was a ruthless demon not that she knew about it or let alone the existence of demons. The deepest corner of his dark heart illuminated with pure light whenever she was around and he came to the conclusion that she was the ray of sunshine he desires to perceive. Eversince he was cured from his fatal illness the only goal in his life was to conquer the sun which prevents him to achieve absolute perfection, in order to live an eternal and indestructible life or so he thought until that very day his eyes laid upon you. It would be stupid to think that demons are capable of experiencing love, concepts of feelings are completely foreign in their conciousness, it was more like obsession. His megalomania makes him believe he needs you no he wants you.

Alas, if only it was a fairytale. The king does not always gets what he desires and same goes for the demon lord when he finds out that his beloved darling already has a lover. As he witnessed the sight of you hugging your partner with passion. The way her eyes flutter infront of him when he caresses her cheeks making her turn away bashfully and how she hold his hand with her delicate ones while exchanging vows of love and loyalty towards each other made his blood boiled with fury. If anyone who can hold her fragile frame is none other but the demon lord himself yet there she was sharing intimacy with some filthy creature. His narcissistic self was put down with a lowlife, he cannot accept that his (y/n) was claimed someone else's. It was something he would never allow to happen.

"Kibutsuji san would you like to buy something today as well?" The women who now acknowledge his presence asked him cheerfully.

"Should I visit you later" a force smile graced on his pale features.

"Oh no, it's fine, let me introduce you to my fiancee" she said excitedly.

"Nice to meet you kibutsuji san" your fiancee said

"Pleasure to meet you as well" The demon scoffed under his breath but Kibutsuji was quite adamant he knew it was not hard to turn the tables anytime sooner as with a blink of an eye he can get rid of him by simply ordering his underlings without even hesitating to dirty his hands exclusive for his precious darling. But that was not what muzan was planning to do at all as his mind was engulfed with much sinister thoughts.

To insanity?

"You have been restless for a long time, what's wrong my child?" A man asked with a look of concern written all over his face looking straight at the figure of an anxious woman roaming around impatiently within the house.

"Its been a week father since he last wrote a letter to him" she mumbled softly disappointment painted across her features. The father could not help but laugh a little by her daughter's remark.

"Father please it is serious"

"I am sorry sweetheart but it might be that your fiancee is busy with wedding preparation" which made sense because the wedding would be taking place after three day and it was obvious that he was caught up with the arrangement. However there was a strange feeling inside her stomach which made her believe otherwise.

As the days passed the wedding day came close, with (y/n) still not receiving any message from her lover. Worried her to the core at this point all she wanted was to make sure of his safety as something constantly felt off. The guests came in one by one for the wedding ceremony but there was no sign of the groom.

It was getting unbearable for her to remain confined. Ignoring her father's request to stay inside she went outside in hope to check whether or not her lover was approaching but once again she was greeted with emptiness. Her eyes swell up with tears forming on both corners allowing her body to slowly hit the surface as she convinced herself that her lover will never come. The worst was yet to happen and before she could make any movement the ground beneath her feet started shaking and a shoji door opened consuming her into the darkness.

It was just the start of her miserable life under the demon's control.

"So you are finally awake", a sudden voice came echoing into her eyes as she slowly opened her eyes after regaining her consciousness. She moved her hands upwards in order to ease the headache only to find her hands tied up with shackles, a chilling sensation of overwhelming fear filled her entire senses as she remembered what happened prior.

"Where am I? Why am I chained?" Who are you?" she demanded furiously at the mysterious figure infront her which was now advancing at her direction from the dark corner of the dimly litted room.

"You are quite an impatient one?" The man gripped her chin roughly as her eyes protruded out with bewilderment.

"Can't even remember your daily customer?" A wicked smile curved across his countenance.

"K..Kibutsuji san" she parted her lips. Tears forming in her eyes once again. This made muzan even more irritated as he tightened his grip on her chin. (Y/n) whimpered with pain crying out loud.

"Your shouting won't help dear nobody apart from me can hear you scream" he said bluntly with his cold apathetic voice.

"Why?" (Y/n) lowered her head down holding his hand with her delicate ones trying her best to get a hold of him.

"Pardon?" Muzan inquired as he stared at your quivering form with his souless eyes there was no empathy in them or whatsoever although he felt pity. He cannot deny the fact that he was indeed attracted to her that's the reason why he put her into so much hassles.

"Where is my lover?" She asked sternly with her voice shaking a bit.

"Oh" muzan responded his hand still holding her chin tightly. This made her even more anxious she was unaware of the power he might possess and definitely she didn't had any intentions to risk her life.

"Why can't you humans move on and accept circumstances given before you?" it startled her as she cannot process what he meant.

"I don't.. u..understand" she said.

"Then you have to learn to accept me as your partner" muzan replied coldly (y/n) sat there looking at him with disbelief her heart and soul belonged to someone else and for a long time they have been together it's absolutely impossible to change the reality she was accustomed with just because some maniac wants to make her his partner.

"I can never" she murmured with disgust hinted in her voice. "I love him" throwing daggers in his direction not ready to submit her futile attempts of protest should pissed the demon lord even more but to her surprise she saw him smiling menacingly and in the corner of her eyes she saw the figure of her debilitate lover.

"Start from his fingers" muzan ordered one of his subordinate as they began chopping one of his finger making him scream in pain.

"No! please don't hurt him" trying to break free from the shackles she was tied with realizing it was fruitless she fell on the demon's knee begging with all the strength left within her in a last desperate attempt.

"You left me with no other choice, dear" he explained playing his sick games of manipulation on her. This was exactly what he needed to break her mind and she cannot help but rely on him pleading for his forgiveness feeding on his massive ego providing him ultimate satisfaction to witness the quivering frame of his darling clinging onto his knee in pure submission.

"Please I will do anything you say" she requested shaking like crazy.

"Anything?" Muzan questioned raising his eyebrow

"Yes" she replied without any hesitation.

"Be mine"

She already knew that he wanted this and she readily obliged in order to save her beloved, sacrificing her own life. Her only purpose was now to satisfy the demon lord, he was successful until the very end and it won't take long to make her completely his.

#kimetsu no yaiba #kny muzan #muzan kibutsuji #demon lord #demon slayer #demon #muzan kibutsuji x reader #kimetsu no yaiba muzan #muzan x reader #anime

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jetaime-jespere · 3 years ago

Text

I Was Enchanted To Meet You

This is a long time in the works, and a gift to my dear friend @cmhotchniss-blog, who sent me her idea of how Aaron and Emily met. Most of the ideas are hers, and I am forever grateful she let me connect some of the dots. 💓

"I’d like to think this is how we were supposed to meet. For a brief moment in time, that’s all. To steer one another in the right direction, if you will.”

One night for Aaron and Emily has a lasting impact on them both, twenty-four years later.

A mess of metal is what’s left behind on a dusky stretch of Route 66. Shattered glass sparkles like diamonds along the wet asphalt in the darkening sky as night meets the last moments of the day. Smoke curls and hisses around the mangled frame of the SUV, the stillness of the air a juxtaposition to the chaos that wraps around them - a slew of first responders, a few ominous rumbles of thunder, the mounting traffic on the other side of the highway. It’s a cacophony of sounds and sirens, shrill and relentless, that bring them all back to the reality that it can’t get much worse than this.

Read the rest below or on ao3!

There’s shouting - so much shouting - the frantic and panicked voices from the normally imperturbable team as one of their own is pulled from the passenger seat, limp and unresponsive. It only took seconds for things to go horribly wrong. Accidents were never supposed to happen, and yet here they were, helplessly surrounding a team of paramedics who were just a little too quiet in their intense focus, their faces stretched a little too thin, a little too grey, as they bent over Emily.

Her speech is slurred; her eyes flutter and blink weakly as they fight to keep her conscious and alert, rattling off blood pressure numbers with thinly veiled concern. They abruptly push JJ to the side, curtly demanding the need for more space to work, bark directions to the hospital, and start preparing to move her into the ambulance.

On the other side, a hand with a set of bitten down nails grapples for purchase at Dave’s shirt, fingers wrapping around the folds of expensive fabric to pull him closer in one last moment of semi lucidity. With a fading grasp Emily drags him down close enough to whisper something inaudible in his ear, words meant for only him to hear. The older man frowns, eyebrows furrowing with confusion as she falls unconscious, the last lick of light disappearing behind the trees.

____

“Dad, are you sleeping?”

Aaron’s eyes snap open a little too quickly, the bowl of popcorn nearly spilling into his lap when he jumps to attention. The voice, a familiar one, is insistent, as if it’s not the first time he’s said his name in the last few minutes. “No,” he says quickly and he’s not entirely sure who he’s reassuring. “No. I was just -”

“Let me guess,” Jack scoffs, taking a large handful from his own, much larger bowl of popcorn in his lap. “Just nodded off.”

“I’m paying attention,” Aaron attempts weakly as Jack laughs under his breath and shakes his head.

“I’ve heard that before.” His son reaches for the remote to rewind the last ten minutes of the scene he’d missed, still laughing. “This is what … the third week in a row?” While he’s right, Jack doesn’t seem bothered. The years away have made him wise beyond his years, with a patience not often possessed by hormonal teenage boys who spend most of their time with a screen in their face. Aaron often thinks his son inherited the best of Haley - her patience, for starters. He resembles her too, and every now and then, looking at Jack is like looking into a window of the past. A past that could have been a fantasy, for now it seems like so far gone.

“Something like that,” Aaron mumbles. It’s true. In the four months they’ve lived in the quaint Philadelphia suburbs of Chester County, an idyllic place without the Main Line housing prices, adjustment has taken on a new meaning once again. Gone are the fake identities, the constant checking and double checking of doors and windows, the frequent looks over their shoulders, the unsettling notion that it might not end - that this might, unfairly, be their reality. He knows they’d go to the end of the earth to find Scratch - they’d done it before to find Foyet, then Doyle. They fought monsters before, but somehow, this was different.

There had been a finality in his decision to take Jack and go into Witsec. His final act to name Emily as Unit Chief was an easy one, and while it didn’t lessen the blow of the circumstances in which he and Jack left, in a flurry of panic, reminiscent of one his son experienced once before, it gave him a semblance of peace he wasn’t expecting. A little bit of reprieve, the ability to sever ties that may never be rebuilt, to no fault of their own. The cruel and unusual situation was one that they always risked with the nature of their work, one that was always a distant possibility.

In the quiet moments, he thinks of her. The what ifs and the whys. Everything between them that was said, and what never was. What he’s never told anyone is just how long he’s thought of her in one way or another, the one night they shared together, years ago, tucked neatly away in his mind to save for nights when he wondered just how things got to be this way.

“Come on, Dad,” Jack laughs. “At least try to make it through this movie. You said you wanted to see this one.”

With a hint of guilt as his obvious disinterest, Aaron sits up a bit straighter on the couch, grips the popcorn bowl in his hands, locking his eyes on the television. The plot of the movie is already lost on him, despite it being a topic of conversation for the last several days. “Just play the movie, Jack.” He stifles a yawn into his fist and valiantly attempts to focus his attention on the screen.

Aaron is dozing when he’s interrupted again; this time by his phone vibrating on the table. He doesn’t miss Jack’s eyes flickering over to the phone. “It’s just like old times,” he sighs. “I guess I shouldn’t be surprised.”

The name on the screen is the very last he expects to see at such an hour in the middle of the week. Aaron frowns, the phone cradled in his hands as the phone vibrates insistently. It’s the familiar push and pull of guilt he feels when his eyes shift between his son and the phone again, an unexpected window into a life he long left behind. The phone keeps ringing, immediately following the first unanswered call. Not a good sign, he thinks.

“Dad?”

“I need to take this, Jack,” Aaron says quickly. It’s late enough that this is anything but a casual phone call. The blanket is tossed aside and the popcorn already forgotten. He barely hears Jack’s half-hearted protest as the phone crackles static and then connects. The voice on the other end speaks first, his tone clouded with thinly veiled fear.

“Aaron.”

“Dave.” His tone is equally clipped, even and steady even as the phone is held tightly in his hand, waiting for whatever news is about to come.

“Aaron, you need to get to Prince William Medical Center as soon as you can.” It’s the urgency in Dave’s voice that unnerves him; it sets off every warning bell in his head. His normally unflappable, at times annoyingly rational friend sounds harried and exhausted, as if it’s already been the longest of nights, as if making this very phone call was a last resort. “It’s Emily.”

Emily .

The words reverberate through his head, the implications tear through his chest like a series of spears. He knew it wasn’t good, but he didn’t expect this. “What happened?” But years of experience and unbridled heartache have steeled his nerves, tested his resolve time and time again. He should be used to this by now - bad news that haunts those he loves. But the fear is like a vice, a cold stab that wraps itself around his mind and back again.

“There was an accident.” Dave begins. It’s been a few years since he’s seen him, but through the phone Aaron can see the lines on his forehead that have certainly deepened by now, perhaps a few have been added over time as the years add up.

“Accident? What kind of accident?”

He barely listens as Dave recounts the last few hours in excruciating detail. They were on a case - local - Reston - on their way back to Quantico. A poorly timed summer storm made visibility terrible, rendering driving nearly impossible. They were sideswept by another SUV, the impact sending them careening into the median on 66 just outside of Woodbridge. It sounds like anyone’s worst nightmare - airbags deployed, the windshield shattered upon impact, the entire hood a mangled mess of metal as the car careened to a stop, the threatening hiss of the engine.

But the totaled car was the very least of their problems.

“She’s in critical condition, Aaron,” Dave says carefully, as if it’s only part of the truth, as if somehow it’s even graver than this. “She’s unconscious.” It doesn’t sound good - her head hit the window on impact, the rest of Dave’s news confirms his worst fears - a likely head injury, the extent of which they don’t know.

It doesn’t make sense. It seems like some kind of sick, ill joke - a nightmare he’ll wake up from, only to find Jack having devoured both bowls of popcorn and the credits of the movie he never actually watched rolling. “What aren’t you telling me Dave?”

“I think you’d want to be here, Aaron. It … it could go either way at this point.” Dave’s voice is so heavy, something Aaron isn’t used to. His friend was typically the voice of reason, the one he went to for assurance when things seemed to be spiraling out of control - something he did many times over. And now the tables were turned to their side, a cruel twist of fate. It takes no convincing; he’s already reaching for his jacket on the hook by the door, grappling for an umbrella shoved unceremoniously in a closet somewhere closeby.

“I’ll be there as soon as possible.”

…

“Mendoza is on his way.,” JJ says quietly as she rounds the corner with two cups of coffee in her hands. “ He just called me.”

“That might complicate things.” Dave wrings his hands and paces the tiny hallway. “Who told him?” He asks curiously. It hadn’t been long since Emily had shown up in his office one night, shoulders heavy as she relayed the news of their breakup. Dave is no stranger to the failures of love - having been thrice divorced himself. Sometimes timing was to blame, other times it was priorities. In their case it was commitment, or lack thereof, things fizzling out and hasty goodbyes, half-hearted assurances of keeping in touch, that one will call the other. Yet Dave isn’t exactly surprised to hear the news. Despite their challenges, Mendoza had been all but enamored with Emily, in awe of her at times. He wasn’t a stupid man; he wasn’t surprised when she didn’t follow him to Colorado. There was always something else that stood in her way. He just never knew exactly what.

“Word travels fast.”

“Aaron is on his way.” After a long pause, Dave scrapes a hand across his face, exhaustion bleeding through the cracks of age. “I just called him.”

JJ only nods and stares into Emily’s room with a pensive expression. “What do we tell them?”

“We tell them what we know. Hope for the best. That's all we can do.”

...

The storm takes the humidity with it, a soft chilly breeze spreading through the darkness. Aaron hurries through the hospital doors, charging past the triage nurse towards the elevators. He’s only vaguely aware of the other man that wedges himself past the doors just in the nick of time. He looks just as distracted as Aaron feels, eyes distant -worlds away - and lost in his own thoughts as he offers a quick smile, fists shoved in jacket pockets.

“What floor?” Aaron offers with a tight smile.

“The ICU.”

He nods and pushes just one button, indicating that they’re in fact going to the same place.

“I’m sorry.” The other man nods his head in solidarity, noticing the single illuminated circle on the panel, shuffles his feet, checks his watch and hangs his head. The phone in his pocket buzzes; he checks it with a resigned sigh. Aaron feels a touch of sympathy for him, wonders just what brings him there.

Except he doesn’t have to wonder much longer, because not only is Dave waiting when the doors open, but he clearly knows whoever Aaron just shared the elevator with. And judging by the way Dave’s eyebrows lift just enough at the sight of them both, practically side by side, something tells him there’s more to the story than just a simple coincidence.

“I see you’ve met?” Dave cocks his head to the side, scrubs his chin with his hand thoughtfully. “I wish it wasn’t under these circumstances.”

“What the hell happened?” The man beside Aaron demands, a little more forcefully this time.

“So you haven’t met.”

“What the hell is going on, Dave?” Aaron snaps first, his patience starting to wane. The last three hours of travel have already started to catch up with him. It’s been years since he’s had to channel his feelings into something more stoic and taciturn. It doesn’t return as easily this time. He tells himself it’s because of age and time, yet the nagging voice in his head says it’s something else entirely.

“Andrew Mendoza, meet Aaron Hotchner. The former chief of the BAU. Hotch, this is Andrew Mendoza. Mendoza was the Special Agent in Charge of DC’s Field Office. He consulted with the BAU on a few local cases about a year ago.”

“Was?” Aaron questions, quickly putting together what Dave doesn’t tell him about Andrew Mendoza. There’s only one reason why he’d be there - a reason he didn’t anticipate. He has to swallow the bitter pang of regret that rises in his throat. It shouldn’t exist at all, but a familiar feeling that has lingered just within his reach whenever he thought of Emily. The chances they never took, the timing that seemed to elude them for one reason or another. Time. It had never been on their side.

“The Denver Field Office offered me a promotion last month. My daughter and I are moving out to Colorado in a few weeks.”

“Congratulations,” Aaron says stiffly as he offers his hand. It’s obvious why he’s here - the same reason Aaron is. “I’ve heard good things about Denver.” There’s something about the news that satisfies him.

“I’m sorry to meet you under these circumstances.” Mendoza glances at Aaron, then Dave, then back at Aaron again. “But what the hell happened tonight?”

“JJ didn’t tell you?”

“Just that there was an accident.”

Dave presses his mouth into a thin line, relaying the story with such tact that Aaron knows it’s an abridged version, a slightly less terrible rendition of what happened back on the highway. “We were right outside of Woodbridge. On our way back from a case in Reston. Visibility was awful. It happened so fast. Emily must have hit her head on impact. She lost consciousness shortly after the ambulance arrived. They’re considering surgery to relieve the pressure in her brain.”

Dave pauses, letting the news sink in, taking a deep breath of his own to compose his frayed nerves. “There’s a chance of brain damage but they won’t know more until after she regains consciousness.” His gaze shifts between them both, gauging their reactions.

“When will that be?”

“There’s no easy way to tell. Could be hours after the surgery. Or days. She’s not breathing on her own. It’s going to be a while before we know anything.” He repeats the doctors’ words as calmly as he can. Dave’s typically unflappable demeanor is strained; the weariness laces through his voice.

“How did this happen?” It’s Mendoza who speaks up this time, clearly distraught and searching for words of his own. He almost looks embarrassed by his uncharacteristic show of emotion.

“It was an accident,” Dave repeats as calmly as he can, as if he’s practiced this speech in his head before giving it. “No one is to blame.”

The air seems to thicken around them, the reality setting in that while it’s already been a long night, it’s only just beginning.

“We’re here because of Emily. It’s a waiting game now, as long as it might be. May as well make yourselves comfortable. There’s a waiting room just down the hallway and a cafeteria on the sixth floor, if you want some coffee. It might eat a hole in your stomach, but it’s something.”

The room around him starts to spin. Aaron can’t remember the last conversation they had - something hasty by phone, he suspects, in the days of time differences and small talk. Never awkward, but something always lingering beneath the surface. Their conversations were all about what wasn’t said - subtext, layers of awareness only they possessed.

“One other thing,” Dave adds, as if on afterthought, a fleeting thought he nearly forgot, nothing more than a passing thought. “Before she lost consciousness, she was rambling incessantly about apple pie.” Dave adds, as if on afterthought, eyes narrowing in confusion. “The best apple pie in DC. Any idea what that could be about?”

Aaron stiffens, his jaw flexing at Dave’s seemingly innocuous mention in the midst of everything else. It’s been years since he’s last seen her and another fifteen since that night, one he’s never actually spoken of out loud. It could have been a lifetime ago, a distant memory. It feels so foreign at this point he could have dreamed it. Surely he misheard - there’s no way she’d be thinking of that. He pinches the bridge of his nose, stifles a yawn into his fist. It’s about to be a very long night. “Where is she? Is she in surgery yet?”

“Not yet. She’s just down the hall.” In the distance a monitor beeps then an alarm starts to go off, punctuated by the efficient scramble of nurses. It reminds him just how much he hates hospitals, and Aaron breathes a heavy sigh of relief when they don’t go into Emily’s room.

“You can see her, you know.” Dave offers gently, sensing the growing tension. “One visitor at a time.”

It’s somehow decided, without officially being decided out loud, that Aaron will go in first. Mendoza quietly mentions something about needing to call his daughter. Not for the first time this evening, Aaron is actually grateful Jack can hold his own at home for a little while, that they’re long past those years of constant check-ins. A simple text will do in a few hours’ time. And he steels his nerves with a few deep breaths before slipping into the room, the silence punctuated by the staccato beeping of monitors and a ventilator.

She’s like a ghost, translucent almost - amidst the machines and wires. He remembers a time, years ago, when the roles were reversed. Aaron wonders if she felt the same clench of fear in her gut, the awful feeling of helplessness that came along with being at someone’s bedside in a hospital. He wonders if she felt the same desperation clinging to every nerve in her body that things would be okay.

“Hey,” he says, sinking into the hard plastic chair at the side of the bed. “It’s been awhile.” Deep down he knows she won’t - can’t - respond. But there was a moment of hope - a tiny one - flimsy and built on nothing - that maybe she would move or something to indicate she heard him. There isn’t one.

Aaron swallows the rising lump in this throat, thick and pressing right down into his lungs. “I really need you to wake up, Emily.”

...

“When’s the big move?” Dave presses Mendoza gently, asking all the questions Emily never gave answers to. He folds his arms across his chest, unable to tear his gaze from the scene before him. From his place behind the window, he watches Aaron lower himself onto a chair on shaky legs, taking a few steadying breaths as he settles beside her. He rests a weary head on his fist.

“Two weeks. Keely wanted to finish her soccer season.” Mendoza crosses his arms over his chest as his eyes follow Dave’s.

Dave nods without really comprehending the words. “You’ll have to let us know when you’re both settled out there.”

“Yeah.”

Dave breaks an awkward silence. “I’m sorry things didn’t work out between you two.”

“Sometimes it doesn’t.” By now, Mendoza’s full attention is on the scene before them both, face solemn and stiff. “What’s the story between them?” His eyes narrow ever so slightly, shades of suspicion cloud his features and his shoulders tense. Years of profiling make Dave keenly aware of these subtle changes in his behavior. He’s questioning it .

Dave shrugs. “Friends? Colleagues?” By now, Aaron is brushing Emily’s arm with his thumb, and if he isn’t mistaken, swears he sees his lips moving too. “Anything else and your guess is as good as mine.”

It seems to smooth things over for a few moments, even as something else is planted in his mind. Something he never considered at all.

…

“Have you been to Boathouse Row yet?”

It’s an attempt to make small talk as they sit down; it doesn’t get past Aaron, who stays silent, completely ignoring the question.

“So what is it you’re not telling me?” Dave passes a flimsy styrofoam cup over the small table.

“Now might not be the best time, Dave,” Aaron retorts, rolling a tiny cup of creamer in his fingers.

“We’ve got nothing but time, Aaron. Surgeon says things could take hours. She might even be conscious immediately after. And you’re not driving back to Philly anytime soon.”

He has a point . “She was talking about when we first met.” He sighs heavily as he spins the cup around in his hands. “It was a long time ago.”

“At the BAU?” Dave knits his eyebrows in confusion.

Aaron rubs his eyes tiredly. By now any movement feels like effort, the space behind his eyes starting to throb with an oncoming headache and exhaustion. “Before that.”

“You mean you knew - “ Dave stops, his coffee ignored and interest piqued. “You two knew each other before?”

“We met years ago. Would be at least twenty now.” He’s too tired to do the math of exactly how long it’s been. “We met when I was working for her mother one summer in DC.”

“I certainly had no idea.”

“No one did. It never really came up.”

“By choice or on purpose?” Dave quips, his eyes just a touch brighter than they were moments before. He chuckles when Aaron just stares right back, the hint of a smile hidden in his eyes. “So what’s the story?”

His expression is wistful, as if he were dusting off a long held memory. “It was kind of an accident.”

Twenty-Four Years Ago

Not for the first time that evening, Aaron checks his watch discreetly and sighs into his fist. It’s only eight-thirty; who knows how long this thing will last. It wasn’t that he agreed to this. It’s practically a rite of passage when working for an Ambassador, or so he’s been told -working one of the many extravagant parties and benefit dinners that were practically part of her job description. The ballroom is full of DC’s political elite - congressmen and senators, the Secretary of State and the Attorney General. Rumor had it the Vice President would be making an appearance. For that reason alone, security was heightened, every egress monitored, yet he’s never felt more invisible in a room full of people.

Aaron spots her accidentally, but something tells him she’s not trying to blend in. The tall figure on the opposite side of the room is entirely too young to be one of them , yet she mingles easily with a champagne flute between her fingers. She’s wearing an elegant black dress with a high neck and open back. It shows off delicate shoulder blades that jut out like wings when she moves. He isn’t the only one staring.

She’s the Ambassador’s daughter - Emily . Aaron has only heard of her from the others, her name being uttered in exasperation when one of the agents finds her breaking protocol yet again - sneaking out and in at all hours of the night, slipping an endless parade of friends past the entrance logs without proper verification. He’s never spoken a word to her; he knows almost nothing about her except that she’s a student at Yale, supposedly speaks multiple languages, and has a knack for causing trouble.

They haven’t spoken a word to each other, but her eyes meet his across the square in the middle of the room that is supposedly a dance floor. His mouth goes dry and he immediately looks away when Emily excuses herself from whatever conversation she’s immersed in, only to look back seconds later to find her sauntering directly towards him , effortlessly maneuvering through the crowd.

Aaron nods a polite hello, attempting to keep his expression neutral when she’s finally closed the gap between them both.

“You know,” Emily says with amusement, eyes flicking over him. “You could at least try not to look so miserable.”

“Who said anything about being miserable?”

“It’s practically part of the job requirements if you work for my mother. Besides, you’ve been wearing the same expression since this thing started.” When she catches his look of sheer bewilderment and mild annoyance, she laughs softly. “Trust me. I’ve been to enough of these things to know what I’m looking for.”

“Are you spying on me?” He glances around, wondering just where the Ambassador even is amidst a sea of black suits. He should be keeping a close eye, after all. He strains his neck a little, scanning the crowd purposefully until he sees the woman that strongly resembles the miniature version of her in front of him.

“No. I’m just observant.” Without missing a beat, Emily waves to someone - a Congressman Aaron immediately recognizes from the news - something about a scandal involving a rather young intern under a desk - but he hadn’t been paying too much attention to remember all the details. “He’s such a scumbag,” she adds quietly without any elaboration.

He senses her reticence immediately; he wonders just how she knows all of this, if he should push, if at all “Isn’t that part of their job description to a degree?”

“Some of them,” Emily mutters. “But he’s one of the worst.”

“So I’ve heard,” Aaron murmurs, tearing his eyes away from the crowd to get a better look at her. Up close she’s even more stunning, with sharp cheekbones and a perfectly symmetrical face, her smile wide and eyes like dark orbs. “I’m sorry, have we met before?”

“I’ve seen you around. You’re the new guy.”

“New-ish. I started in March.” It comes out a bit more dejectedly than it should, but it’s hard to hide the disdain he feels for it all. Things have been far from easy over the last few months. It’s a mindless shuffle of one foot in front of the other, days that blend together similar to the ones before, with the slightest hope that a few more weeks of patience might wield a change.

“New to me.” She’s only been home for the summer a few weeks at most, so he can count on one hand the number of times he’s actually seen her. “So what’s your story?”

“My story?”

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” She cracks a grin at her own remark. “You’re too tense.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Agent …”

“Hotchner,” he fills in quickly.

“Agent Hotchner, you certainly wouldn’t be the first security detail to use this as a stepping stone to a different career. You’re all just biding time until something better comes along.” She’s so matter of fact, so assured, it’s as if she’s had this very conversation with every other agent in the room at one point or another. “It’s usually the quiet ones. They have less to prove.”

“Are we that transparent?”

“Some of you. And I can’t say I blame you. This place surely isn’t a means to an end.”

“What does your mother think of your beliefs?”

“My mother knows exactly what I think of her career and everything that goes along with it. It’s what’s gotten us to this point, actually.”

“And what point might that be?” He’s only heard of some of the epic arguments between the two of them, the harshness of their voices reverberating around the Ambassador’s office or some ornately decorated living room. The bitter clashes of two strong wills, hidden behind the fact that just maybe they were more similar than different.

“A story for a different time,” Emily says smoothly. “Can’t exactly talk about it here.”

“You’re full of stories, aren’t you?” Aaron deduces but she isn’t even paying attention anymore as she scans the crowd. He can see the wheels start to turn in her head, the flicker of an idea materializing somewhere. She turns back, this time a grin stuck to her lips. “What?” He asks reluctantly.

“Let’s get out of here.” Emily bats her thickly lashed, heavily lined eyes. “This thing is going nowhere fast. Besides, you look like you could use a break. “How long have you been on?”

“And go where?”

“Anywhere,” she says casually with a wink as she plucks a champagne flute from a nearby tray, downing it quickly. “I probably shouldn’t drive, but you can.” It’s accompanied with a flippant toss of hair over her shoulder, an expectant purse of her lips.

It’s certainly not the smartest idea or the most prudent, but something tells him Emily could care less about prudence and image. “I could be suspended for unauthorized use of a government-issued vehicle.” Not to mention, having his boss’s daughter in said government vehicle with him, or completely leaving his assignment altogether. He remembers skimming over the terms of employment months ago, specifically the section about fraternization with members of the Ambassador’s Family.

“Who said anything about one of theirs?” She looks almost bored now, tapping her fingers against the empty flute. “That’s no fun anyway. They have trackers on them. For security purposes.” She forms air quotes with her fingers. “We wouldn’t get far.”

He’s about to ask her how she even possesses that knowledge when he feels her hand on his waist, dipping into the creases of his jacket like a lover would. It doesn’t phase her, and while normally his reflexes would spring into quick action, he’s glued into place.

“You have a car don’t you?” Emily unabashedly pats his pocket, feeling for keys.

He opens his mouth to object, but she’s too fast. She grins with satisfied smirk, a triumphant click of her tongue as he stiffens awkwardly when they jingle against her hand. “You aren’t a great liar, Agent Hotchner.”

“Aaron,” he says somewhat stiffly, resignedly. He’s doing his damn best to keep his eyes centered on the ballroom but it’s getting harder and harder to concentrate on the task at hand. The scent of perfume - something undoubtedly expensive - lingers and it makes him dizzy even if he hasn’t had a sip to drink. “And I didn’t lie.”

“Aaron.” His name rolls off her tongue thoughtfully. “Aaron,” she repeats, as if it’s the first time she’s ever heard it. “I never understood why there were two A’s. What do you do with the second one?”

His head spins to keep up with her, how her mind somehow bounces from one thought to the next with seemingly little direction. “Never gave it much thought myself, actually.” From the corner of his eye he catches one of the other agents giving him a quizzical, perhaps slightly jealous, eye roll. It’s a bad idea to entertain, but one he can’t ignore. Emily is staring at him, eyes sparkling, with the slightest touch of longing. Longing for what he isn’t sure, but whatever it is, it wouldn’t be found in the middle of the opulent ballroom.“What do you have in mind?”

“I’ve been told of a place not too far from here,” she begins slowly, a smile on her face at his gradual acquiesce. “A diner that supposedly has the best apple pie in DC.”

“Apple pie?” Just how much has she had to drink?

“I’m starving ,” she offers with a hand pressed to her flat stomach. Aaron’s eyes follow, lingering up and down on her narrow frame.

“They’re about to serve dinner,” He says lamely, shaking his head to ensure he heard her correctly. Waiters have started to circle the room with large serving trays balanced precariously above their heads, passing around the plates that he guesses must cost a few hundred dollars a head, maybe more. The crowds have thinned as more guests take their seats.

Emily shrugs with disinterest. “Once you’ve been to one of these things you’ve been to them all. Besides, this is when things start to get really insufferable.”

“Is that so?”

“Someone will start talking,” Emily drawls sardonically, surveying the crowd starting to take their seats at previously assigned tables - tables he could probably rattle off by name if asked. “Make some big speech promoting their campaign trying to get reelected or whatever. Then they all will. They love hearing themselves talk.”

“Part of the job, I guess.” He stares, unsure of what to say next. Her attitude towards politics is the complete opposite of that of her mother. His interactions with his boss have been somewhat limited; he doubts if she even remembers his first name. Yet he’s seen the way Elizabeth Prentiss revels in a world seemingly dominated by men, a woman in a league of her own. He wonders just how much the Ambassador has sacrificed; wonders if her daughter might be amongst that list. It would certainly explain their tenuous relationship.

“So what do you say? Surely you don’t want to sit around listening to a bunch of old guys spout a bunch of half truths to line their pockets?” She seems unbothered yet again, almost amused by the sight in front of her - as if her premonition of how the night would go is coming true.

There’s nothing he wants less. “How do you suppose I get out of this? I’m still on the clock, you know.”

“I’ll leave that up to you.” Emily sets the champagne flute on a nearby serving tray and spins on her heel, sauntering back towards the center of the ballroom. “I’ll be outside of the South Gate when you figure it out.”

…

In the end, he makes up an excuse to leave. It’s not exactly convincing and the agent in charge doesn’t exactly believe him when he feigns an emergency - food poisoning. But Aaron has always had an exceptionally good poker face, grimacing just enough to make it look questionable, and the other agent curtly nods, grunting something about having enough security for the evening, and making up the hours later in the week. It falls on deaf ears - he’s already out the doors of the security office, a small grin playing at the corners of his lips as he strides across the asphalt driveways with his back toward the house.

Sure enough, Emily is waiting for him, finishing the rest of a cigarette when he pulls around to the South Gate. He keeps his taillights off; the less attention he draws to himself the better.

His car has seen better days, the leather seats worn smooth and the stereo outdated, the steering wheel permanently indented from the grip of his own two hands, scuff marks and faded carpets. But it’s well maintained, and Emily smiles appreciatively when he holds the passenger side door open, then explains how to adjust the seat, just in case . She doesn’t seem to notice at all, just unceremoniously tugs her long skirt out of the way of the door and kicks off her heels.

“Fucking things,” she grumbles. The heels are sharp as knives, ridiculously impractical yet Aaron can’t help but picture her wearing them in a dress much shorter than the one she currently has on. He shakes his head, reminding himself not to go there, because the reality is, she’s still his boss’s daughter, and if anyone were to see them, he’d most definitely be written up, maybe worse, for taking her off property without following protocol. But she’s close enough to touch, her arm a gentle weight against his own on the center console.

“So,” Aaron asks, his voice barely audible. He shifts the car into reverse, breath hitching when his knuckles brush against her hand. “Just where is this diner you speak so highly of?”

“Silver Spring.”

“I thought you said DC.”

“It’s close enough.” Emily tucks a long piece of hair behind her ear with a roll of her eyes. “Just trust me.”

It’s the way she says it that makes him wonder if she would do the same for him. Aaron grips the wheel in silence as the cool night air seeps through the open windows. He catches her shiver and is about to offer his jacket when she breaks the silence.

“Make a right up at the light, and then it’s a quick left.” Emily shifts in the passenger seat. Her fingers twitch as if she were still holding a cigarette between them; she tucks her hand against her cheek daintily. She’s very much aware the passenger side is nearly spotless - nothing to indicate someone sits there frequently. No wayward sunglasses or a forgotten piece of jewelry belonging to a significant other. She straightens the wrinkled fabric of her dress and lowers her eyes.She’d had him pegged wrong - certainly he’d had it all figured out, the well intended nature that comes along with a mostly idyllic existence. She imagined a naive wife or girlfriend completely enamored with him, both parties working to make ends meet for bigger and better things - not happiness, for one. That they had in spades. But maybe a white picket fence, a dog and a baby or two one day.

Instead, he seems lonely and guarded, a choice he was forced to make. Circumstances, maybe, she thinks as the traffic light ahead blinks from a glowing green to yellow, to red. It shines a little brighter than usual, a universal warning everyone should understand . It makes her shiver again.

“Here. Take my jacket” The red light gives him the chance to shrug out of the confines of his suit jacket, which he hands over. He palms the wheel a little tighter when she wraps herself into it, the fabric draping over her like a shield.

“This is the place?” Aaron studies the gaudy exterior of the diner, hard to miss and yet, the type of place you wouldn’t give a second thought. The fluorescent lighting nearly blinds him, and he’s somewhat surprised to see through the windows that multiple tables are full despite the late hour. He can hardly conceal his disbelief. “How’d you learn about this place?”

“Word gets around,” Emily says lightly as she slips her shoes back on, wincing slightly when she stands upright, nearly enveloped by his jacket. “I’ve learned not to judge a book by its cover. Maybe you should do the same.”

They find a booth in the back, tucked away from the clamor of the bustling kitchen and constant jingle of the doors. Again they’re left with nothing but silence, a few wayward glances, and two plastic coated menus between them. The haggard waitress only nods abruptly at their order - two black coffees, one with splenda and one without, one slice of apple pie, and two forks.

“You think she thinks we’re a couple?”

“I’m sure she has a lot more on her mind than us.” Aaron twists the paper straw wrapper between his fingers and studies her across the table. What he’s not expecting is to realize she’s doing the same thing - analyzing his body language with a degree of precision that matches his own, an expression that hides what she’s thinking. He wonders if she’s practiced it over time. She wears his jacket like a coat of armor yet she’s curious, the mundane quietness of the diner a stark contrast to their initial surroundings a short time ago.

“How does someone like you end up working for my mother?” Emily asks out of nowhere, direct and forward without an ounce of hesitation. It could be mistaken for an interrogation, he muses.

“Someone like me?”

“Decent. With manners. Not some macho guy with a little man complex or some baggage like that who gets off swinging his gun around.” She blows the straw wrapper across the table; it hits him square in the shoulder and stays here until he flicks it off. She doesn’t seem to notice as the waitress sets down their much anticipated order amidst a promise to come back with some cream for the coffee.

It’s his turn to laugh; he knows exactly what type she’s referring to. He could name more of them than he has fingers. “Trust me, it wasn’t supposed to turn out this way.”

Emily carves out a large bite of apple pie with her fork, eyes closing with delight as it disappears between her lips, along with a delicate moan. “This is so good.” She pushes the pie plate towards him. “So then what was it?”

“Bad timing, for starters.” Aaron stabs his fork into the jagged slice of pie, cuts off a bite for himself. His stomach growls; it’s been hours since the early dinner he’d scarfed down behind the wheel on his way back to work the shift he just abandoned. “You’re right,” he says around a mouthful of apple and pastry crust. “That’s really good.”

“Told you.” She proudly lifts her shoulders, momentarily triumphant before she digs in for another bite. But she also looks expectant, ready for an answer, even with another forkful of pie. He supposes he owes her one.

“I wanted to join the FBI,” Aaron begins slowly. It comes to him that she’s only the second person he’s ever told any of this to. He supposed talking about it would make it real, take it from a pipe dream to something that could irrevocably fail right in front of his own eyes.

“The big leagues, huh?” She waves her fork in a circle, and it takes a moment for him to realize she isn’t totally shocked. “I could see that, actually, now that you mention it. You have the poker face for it, at least.” Emily gives a little grin, one that meets her eyes. “But that didn’t happen?”

“Had the application filled out and everything. Was going to send it in.”

“So what happened?”

“My girlfriend … She didn’t like the idea. The recruitment process takes months and basic training even longer. Close to a year sometimes. Haley wanted me to do something a little more traditional. Wanted me home at 6 for dinner and around on the weekends.” He takes another bite of pie, partially to gather his thoughts, and to let Emily give her own.

“Girlfriend, huh?”

“Well.” The fork in his hand feels heavy all of a sudden; he sets it down with a clatter. “We’re taking a break right now.”

She takes in his words, chuckles a little bit. “I’m a little disappointed in myself. I definitely had you all wrong.”

“You keep saying that.” It’s more of a question than a statement, a curiosity he can’t contain.

“I took you as settled. Happy. With Haley. ” His girlfriend’s name rolls off her tongue; hearing it sounds strange, like she’s saying something she shouldn’t.

“I’m ... figuring things out. We’re figuring things out.”

“Do you love her? Does she love you?” Emily asks directly without hesitation. “If you do, there shouldn’t be much to figure out.”

He stiffens. “I don’t … not love her. But we want different things. At some point, you have to be honest with each other, right? When you can’t make it work, what do you do?”

“I’m definitely not the person to ask.” She laughs but there isn’t any humor in it, more of a resigned sadness if he looks close enough through the rough edges hidden by carefully curated appearance. “Relationships aren’t something I’ve had a ton of luck with.”

“Maybe you’re dating the wrong people.”

“Maybe.” She looks around the diner, rests her chin in her hands. “I’m pretty directionless myself at the moment, if it makes you feel better.”

“It doesn’t, but thank you.” He takes a sip of coffee, more for something to do with his hands than a need for it. He wants to know more, wants to ask just what could possibly make her directionless. Someone who seemingly had it all.

“Sounds like we’re both lost.” There’s a dreamlike tone to her voice, as if they’re sharing a secret.

“We don’t have to be.”

“If I keep going at this rate, I’ll be a bored socialite by 30 throwing cocktail parties every night and getting drunk by the pool by day.”

“Who says?”

“No one has to say it. It’s … expected of me, I think?”

“Is that so?”

“I’m certainly not following in my mother’s footsteps into politics.” She scoffs. There’s contempt in her voice, for what he deduces is years of being put second, something she never asked for but received over and over again. “What else is there for me to do? Someone has to carry on the family tradition somehow.”

“What do you want to do?”

“I don’t know,” Emily says, dragging her fork through some of the remaining bits of pie on the plate. She flicks a crumb into the air. “I’ve never really had a home , you know. Most of my life has been spent overseas. Just staying in one place for a while would be nice.”

“I always wanted to get away.” Aaron laments. “From Manassas at least.”

“Well, that’s understandable. You aren’t missing much there, or so I’ve heard.” She stirs a spoon into her coffee to work in the mess of splenda packets she’s dumped in.

He watches the liquid swirl, her mezmirzation at it. Something comes to him - something he’s always wanted to know. “Is it true you speak four languages?”

Emily looks up from her coffee, temporarily distracted by his question. “Six, actually. French, Italian, Spanish, Arabic, Greek, and some Russian.” She ticks them off on her fingers nonchalantly as if she were counting inanimate objects.

He does a double take. “Six? I can barely handle English.”

“It’s always been easy for me. I just wish I knew what to do with it, you know?”

“When I applied, I remember seeing that the FBI needs linguists. People with language experience to work overseas.” He takes his own fork to the last remaining bits of the pie, watching her face carefully for a reaction. She’s almost unreadable; he can’t discern just what she’s thinking.

She laughs - not the reaction he expected. “You know, applying for the FBI would absolutely piss my mother off entirely. She would hate it if I did that. Kind of makes me want to do it.”

“She and Haley should meet. I’m sure they’d have lots to talk about.”

“You want to hear what I think?” Emily says after a few long moments, the coffee and the pie that once sat between them are now gone. “I think you should go for it. The FBI. Do it and don’t look back. And call your girlfriend. Let her talk, but tell her how you feel.”

“And?”

“If she comes back, then you know it’s meant to be.”

...

“Never even knew this place existed,” Aaron says, lingering at Emily’s elbow as they pick their way across the pebbled driveway of the diner. She’s a little unsteady on the heels now, not unsurprising given the late hour and the time they spent sitting down.

“Who knew a diner in the middle of Silver Spring Maryland would have such great pie?” Dangling from her wrist is a to-go bag with an extra slice of pie for the morning - the waitress had kindly given her one on the house - the leftovers from the day before.

“I thought New Jersey was the diner capital of the world,” Aaron muses. “New Jersey is all about their diners and traffic circles.”

“And Bruce Springsteen,” Emily adds pointedly. “He’s from New Jersey.”

“Him too.” Aaron laughs quietly. The tension in his shoulders mounts; he doesn’t want this to end. He wants to talk to her, wants to keep her there. But the moment feels final. Emily catches the wrist of the hand that reaches out to cup her cheek, wraps her fingers around it. “If things were different -” he starts quietly, looking almost embarrassed.

“I don’t think that’s how it’s supposed to go, is it?” Emily leans into the weight of his calloused palm, into the touch of a man that isn’t her own. It feels foreign, like she’s taking something that isn’t hers. “I don’t think that’s in our cards, Aaron. Maybe in a different life.”

The ride back to DC is again silent, save for the crinkling of the paper bag in her lap. Aaron skips the main entrance and the long paved driveway, taking a shortcut around the massive property to the South Gate entrance. Emily side eyes him, looking slightly impressed. “Trying to remain inconspicuous?”

“I think that’s for the best.”

“I’d like to think this is how we were supposed to meet,” she offers as he pulls up to the outside of the South Gate. “For a brief moment in time, that’s all. To steer one another in the right direction, if you will.”

“Maybe.” He tells himself to pull away, curling it back around the steering wheel protectively. “Remember what I told you, Emily.” He watches her reach for her shoes, their moments together dwindling down to seconds. “Don’t live your life on the terms of someone else. Especially your mother. If our paths cross again and you’re a bored socialite throwing cocktail parties, we’ll have to talk.”

She loops some hair behind her ear, gives him a small smile. “If our paths cross again in ten years and you aren’t leading some FBI unit somewhere, I’ll have some words for you as well.” She draws a breath, carefully slips on her shoes. “Thank you for the pie, Aaron.” The creak of the passenger side door is the only thing he hears as she slips away like a ship in the night, not to turn back around.

Aaron watches her disappear across the grass, blending into the deep blue of the early morning, the sky not quite awake but out of the depths of night. She’s a shadowy dark figure amidst the promise of a new day. The clock on the dashboard nears 6:00 AM. The little red numbers glow are a reminder of the inevitable crash that will most definitely come later on. He isn’t 20 anymore, after all. But when he drives away, there’s a sense of renewal, one he can’t explain, but deep down understands.

He hands in his resignation before he can work another shift, and he never does make up the time he promised. Three days after that, he mails a thick packet of papers in a standard manila envelope to the FBI Headquarters in Quantico.

A week after that, he takes out his phone and dials Haley’s number. About thirteen years later, his son comes into the world, wailing and screaming with healthy lungs and a head of dark hair. Haley is tired and beaming, his pride is obvious as the tiny bundle is placed in his arms.

They name the baby Jack.

In some ways, the stars aligned.

He’ll sometimes wonder if Emily’s did too.

…

Present Day

“Why didn’t things ever work out between the two of you?”

Dave’s voice brings him back to reality, out of the daydream he’s held so close to his heart for so many years. It’s jarring at first, a confusing limbo of then and now, past and present blending together for a few long moments. He glances around, the harsh overhead lights glaring bright, the low hum of hospital sounds reverberating through his ears. Along with it comes the reality of why he’s there, and the bitter rush of fear that floods his consciousness.

“Timing.” Aaron spins his now empty coffee cup in his hands. “Even after Haley and I got divorced, it was never the right time.”

“You’re going to blame timing ? That’s the oldest trick in the book.”

“I never wanted to take the risk.” It’s the closest thing he can think of as truth. They built a tentative friendship after a rocky start, something built on mutual respect. His divorce brought new challenges - co parenting amidst a ridiculously stressful career, supporting and leading his team. Emily had always been one to hold her own, a silent backbone of their team, a friend to all of them. He’d relied on her, never wanted to lose what they had in hopes of something else . Ian Doyle had taken her from them all; her return was tense and it didn’t take a profiler to understand that Quantico just wasn’t home to her anymore. He let her walk away, encompassed by a fragile shell of his own tentative happiness, and in the years after she went to London, there was a permanent hole in his heart that never quite mended itself again. “Maybe I should have.”

“Love is a choice, Aaron. It doesn’t just happen. You have to choose to make things work.” Dave leans back in his seat, checks his watch, an eyebrow arching just a bit. “I thought you would have known that by now.”

“You and Krystall made a choice?”

“We still do. Every day we have to choose to love each other. Some days it’s easy. Others, not so much. But you know the best part?”

“I think you’re going to tell me anyway, Dave.”

“It’s never not been worth it, Aaron.” There’s a subtle gleam in his eye that wasn’t there before. “Something tells me you might just feel the same, if you gave it a chance.” Dave fumbles for his phone, patting the pockets of his jeans and then that of his blazer before finally pulling the phone from his breast pocket. He flips it open, his eyes widening at whatever message lights up the tiny screen.

“What is it?” Aaron asks with baited breath.

Dave looks up from his phone. For the first time since all of this began, he looks full of hope. “Emily’s out of surgery.”

…

The surgeon is pleased with the outcome of Emily’s procedure, and the air around them seemingly lightens with each minute he explains the procedure, and its success. The three of them hang on every word he says, asking questions and seeking assurances.

“She should be awake within a few hours. We’ll know more then, but her brain activity is good, and her vitals are strong. Agent Prentiss got very lucky. I have patients who often have a very different outcome.”

The relief is palpable, as if the tension was cut with a knife as they all exchange optimistic smiles and tentative handshakes, while profusely thanking Emily’s surgeon. Aaron excuses himself to call Jack - something he should have done hours ago. “I’m not going far,” he reminds Dave, his words a warning of what to do if anything changes in the next few minutes.

“We’ll be right here.”

Mendoza is shrugging into his jacket and digging for his keys with a look of resignation on his face. He catches Dave’s sideways glance. “I think it’s time I head out, Dave. Please give Emily my best wishes on a quick recovery when she’s discharged.” There’s a change in his voice, one that wasn’t there earlier.

“You’re leaving?” Dave asks curiously. “You aren’t going to stay and see Emily? It shouldn’t be much longer before we can go in.”

“No. I don’t think so.”

“Why?”

Mendoza shakes his head, runs a hand over his scalp. “I learned something tonight. You know when it’s just not meant to be, but you can’t find the reason why?”

Dave nods, a glimmer of understanding appearing in his eyes. “I do. I know it very well, actually.”

“I think I found the why.” His eyes roam around before they finally land on Aaron and Dave’s do too. The phone is still pressed to his ear but he’s still staring right into Emily’s room, never once looking away, even as his mouth moves in conversation to Jack on the other end. “I tried to deny it, so did Emily. But I don’t think her heart ever belonged to me. I think it belonged to him.”

—

Emily finally wakes up a few hours later. Aaron and Dave wait outside the room as she’s tended to by a horde of surgeons and nurses, testing brain function and vital signs, spattering off medical terms with ease. It’s a language only they understand, one Aaron never wants to learn. But their voices are hopeful, they have smiles on their faces as they talk to Emily, assessing her cognition and running tests. She’s a little confused and extremely tired, but awake and alert . Dave is just as relieved to see things appear normal; they’re both very aware of just how lucky they got.

Eventually, they’re finally allowed to see her.

“Do you mind if I … “ Aaron trails off, except he doesn’t need to finish the question.

“Go, Aaron. I take it you have some things you want to get off your chest,” Dave quips. “I’m going to call the others and give them an update. They’ve been waiting awhile.” He departs with a pat of encouragement on the back, a shared moment between them.

Moments later, he’s back in her room, at her side on the same uncomfortable chair from earlier. Her eyes flicker open once again, widening almost impossibly when she sees him. Years of unanswered questions are written on her face in seconds, a shared history fraught with more than what most people experience in a lifetime. But there’s something oddly content there too, as if she woke up from a dream that has somehow materialized in front of her.

“Hey,” Aaron says softly, reaching out with a nervous hand to touch her for the first time in years . He dodges wires and IV lines, finds her fingers with his own and gives a gentle squeeze. “You’re up.”

“You’re here?” Emily blinks with confusion, still making sense of just how she got there in the first place. “But I thought you were .. you and Jack are in Philadelphia. What are you doing here?”

“Of course I’m here,” he says soothingly, ignoring her question. They can talk about that later. “How are you feeling?”

Emily gives a wry grin, slightly distorted and weak, but there. “They asked me who the President of the United States was.”

It’s his turn to smirk. “What did you tell them?”

“To ask me after 45 leaves the Oval Office,” she says without hesitation. “I think I made at least two of them laugh.” But then something comes over her face, the reality of it all setting in. “You came all this way,” she croaks, throat raw from the intubation tube. “How did you know about all of this?”

“You were there for me, remember?” He’s not only talking about Foyet, but all the years she spent at his side. The years they spent doing a dance around one another, their steps never quite aligning. This time feels like a second chance he never thought he’d get, one he can’t mess up.

“That was a lifetime ago, Aaron. So much has happened since then.” Emily tries to sit upright, pushes herself up about halfway before exhaustion overtakes her. She grumbles in frustration; he shouldn’t smile but he does. It means the Emily he knows, the Emily he fell in love with years ago is somewhere in there.

“Take it easy,” he soothes, adjusting the pillows so she’s more vertical than horizontal. He uses the opportunity to press a kiss against her forehead. He touches his own to hers and murmurs, “That’s something I should have done a long time ago.”

A smile spreads across her face, just as brilliant as the night he met her. She remembers it all, just as well as he does. “Funny how it always seems to take one of us dying to figure things out.”

“What are you talking about?” It’s a morbid thought, one he can’t entertain for long because despite his question, there’s an element of truth to it. He brushes some hair from her eyes and tucks it behind her ear. It’s matted in his fingers and dirty yet he doesn’t even notice. His heart swells, the hand in her hair trails down to her cheek, a thumb against the blush that spreads there. “And by the way, that’s not funny.”

“I’m saying maybe after I get out of this place,” she gestures to the mess of monitors and wires and tubes, “You can ask me out on a date. Finally.”

“Anywhere,” Aaron agrees. He would go anywhere, if it meant he could be with her.

“I know a place in Silver Spring. Supposedly they have the best apple pie in DC.”

#hotchniss #hotchniss fanfiction #young hotchniss #Aaron Hotchner #Emily Prentiss #aaron hotchner x emily prentiss #Aaron x Emily

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one-true-houselight · 4 years ago

Text

Five Times Stan Wondered How Ford Would Feel, and One Time He Didn't Have To

1982

It was weird, being at his own funeral. Stan had certainly thought about faking his own death before, but he'd never had the time, or the ability. It's not often you get a chance to take over your identical twin's life as a cover story.

It was the kind of story he would have told Ford to make him laugh when they were kids. The ultimate twin swap. The thought put a lump in his throat as he stared out at the small number of guests. An uncharitable part of him noted that Ford would probably have had more mourners.

A different, desperately scared and guilty part, wondered how Ford would feel if he was here, at his brother's actual funeral. Would he be sad? Would he remember the good times, or would he just see a broken machine, a crumpled bag of toffee peanuts?

Would he even come?

Stan breathed, trying to convince himself he was simply pursuing this train of thought so he could impersonate Ford more effectively. He hoped his performance was more effective than that effort.

He sat on a bench and reflexively massaged the sides of his hands, where he'd made it look like extra fingers had been removed. To his surprise, Shermie came over and sat next to him. "You doin' ok, Stanford?"

"Yeah," Stan replied, hoping his illusion would hold. "As ok as I can be, I guess."

Shermie put a hand on his shoulder, and Stan kept himself from flinching. People hadn't put their hands on him for much beyond violence in...a while. "I know you and Stanley hadn't seen each other in a while, and it ending like this is probably difficult for you."

Stan shrugged, and thought once again; how would Ford feel right now, if the last time he'd seen Stan had been when he closed the curtain on him all those years ago, and not a brother desperately reaching for him as he disappeared through a swirling portal?

He figured it was wishful thinking when he replied, "I think I was done with anger, at this point. I just wish I had told him how I felt sooner."

1992

Stan was rummaging through the closet when an object fell from between some coats and landed at his feet. He picked it up to find it was a worn, six fingered glove. His first instinct was to drop it, as if it had burned him, but he didn't. He just stared at it for a while, thoughts wandering to the man who once wore it.

He kept holding it as he went back to work, (Stan was never one to stand still for too long), cleaning the gift shop, adjusting an attraction, locking up the earnings, entering the code on the vending machine. As he worked, he wondered what Ford would say if he was here right now. Probably something about scientific integrity, he thought with a snort. '

He wondered if he'd appreciate how he finally figured out a way to make money, if he'd laugh at the times Stan had had to punch something supernatural. It was certainly in character: Ford being the one ready to research and record phenomena, while Stan was the one coming in to punch it, or kick it, or sic a knife-wielding possum on it. They had made a good team. Maybe they still would, if-

No. Thinking like that didn't help, it wouldn't bring him back. To be fair, he didn't know if this would work, as he surveyed the broken portal looming from the darkness. But he had to try. He had to.

He hoped Ford would be proud of him.

1999

Stan sat straight up in Shermie's kids' living room, fingers tapping wildly. When he'd gotten the call, he had run to the PA to close the gift shop immediately so he could pack. And now, after breaking more traffic laws in a day then he had thought possible, he was here, and he was about to meet-

"Stanford, meet Mason and Mabel." His niece and nephew walked in, each holding a baby. His breath caught in his throat. He had known they were twins, of course, he wasn't an idiot, but now, seeing these two bundles with the same face poking out over blankets, the fact hit him like a train.

"Looks like twins-" run in the family, but he couldn't say that. Shermie had agreed (reluctantly) to not mention Stanley to his family, given the tragic circumstances, so the comment would have been nonsensical to them. So he just smiled at his new great niece and nephew.

"They sure do, Stan. Want to hold them?" Stan's eyes widened slightly and he nodded. The babies were handed to him, one in each arm, and he looked down at them, tears in his eyes. Mabel's eyes locked onto his gold chain and she batted at it, entranced at the light bouncing off of it. Mason had a large birthmark on his head, like a constellation, and seemed fascinated by the tassel on Stan's hat.

"Hey there. I'm your Great Uncle Stan," he whispered, his words sliding together a little from emotion.

Their mom chuckled. "Sounded like you said 'Grunkle Stan'. It's usually the kids who give you the nickname."

Stan laughed, startling the babies a little. "You know what, I think I like Grunkle Stan better. 'Great Uncle' makes me feel old."

"Don't tell that to Dad," joked his nephew before standing. "I'll go make some lunch."

Stan made to stand up, but was pushed back into his seat. "You stay with the kids, it's fine."

Stan nodded and looked to the twins' mom, who had fallen into a chair across from him. "How are you holding up?"

She shrugged. "Twins are hard, but they're sleeping better than I expected. If I didn't know better, I'd think they were helping each other sleep."

Stan laughed. "I wouldn't be surprised, these two look smart." Mabel looked up at him and blew a raspberry. Mason sat up, then immediately fell forward into Stan's chest. He looked up and smiled, and Stan absentmindedly tapped his forehead. "Quite a birthmark he's got."

"Yeah. Shermie joked that we should call him 'Dipper'. He said it was like calling you Sixer-" She stopped suddenly, blushing. "Sorry, I shouldn't have-"

"No, no," said Stan quickly, his hands flitting to the scars on his hands. "I didn't mind that name. It certainly wasn't the worst thing I was called." It flowed easily, saying I. He had been Stanford for 17 years now, after all.

The conversation moved on, the twins crawling over him as he chatted and laughed with their mother. But his thoughts were elsewhere, pushed to a familiar place by that nickname. He didn't know how Ford felt about having his own kids, but he knew he would have loved to be here, to see these kids. Maybe he could give better advice about Mason.

Did he and Ford ever comfort each other, before they even knew what those words meant? Stan couldn't remember a time that he wasn't aware of Ford, a time before that night when they weren't by each other's sides. How would Ford react to see another set of Pines twins? As he looked down, he wished they never lost each other the way he and Ford had lost each other. It was the best blessing he could think to give them.

July 2012

Stan sat in his chair, stunned. That morning, he had followed the sound of excited kids shouting to find that someone had found Ford's old room As he'd walked in, hoping they wouldn't ask him too many questions, he had glanced over and seen them sitting there, as if Ford had left them there minutes before. He had always had a bad habit about his glasses.

With a look at the kids, who were distracted, he grabbed the glasses and shoved them in a pocket, covering his reeling mind with announcing a competition. He made it through the day, not internalizing much. Now that he thought about it, he was pretty sure there had been something going on with Dipper and Mabel, but he just hadn't been present enough to figure out what. It seems like they were figuring out whatever it was, so he was just left sitting in the dark, staring at a pair of glasses.

He was so close. Was Ford even alive? He had to be. He had been working on this for thirty years, he had to believe that Ford was out there. What was Ford doing right now? Had he found some nerd school? Stan smiled at that, and tried not to imagine the many, many less attractive options.

He heard footsteps upstairs, and he contemplated what Ford would have done that day, with the kids. Maybe he would have had a reasoned discussion with the kids, about boundaries and choices. Or maybe he would have seen his own resentment reflected in those kids' eyes, and…

He had spent thirty years as Stanford Pines, and had slowly weaned himself off of trying to act as he thought Ford would. But even if he hadn't, he would have started now. Because if he couldn't stop the curse with him and Ford, he would not pass it down to Dipper and Mabel. He had to believe that siblings were not doomed to fail, he had to believe that he could help these kids out from a shadow they didn't know they were under.

And even though he didn't believe it, he hoped he could get Ford and him out too, someday. He hoped Ford would want to come.

August 2012

Ford was here.

Thirty years of work, and Ford was in the next room, bemoaning what Stan had done to the shack.

Figures.

"You know, Ford, standing around yelling at the Mystery Shack isn't gonna change anything," he called out. Ford walked into the room, eyebrows furrowed.

"I still don't understand why you had to take my identity," said Ford. "Wouldn't it have been easier to fake my death?"

I didn't know if it would have been fake He shrugged and replied, "Do you know how many crimes I've committed? It was better that way."

"I can imagine," muttered Ford, with more venom than Stan liked, but no more than he expected.

"Hey, you know a lot of crimes were to get you back."

Ford snorted at that, but fell quiet for a moment, staring at his own hands. Finally, without looking up, he asked, "How'd you fake the hands, Stanley?"

"Said I cut 'em off." He held up his hands to show the faded scars, and Ford's eyes widened slightly.

"You gave yourself scars?"

"Yeah. I've got enough of them." Stan did not mention that, as much as these scars had hurt, they had paled in comparison to how he had felt watching Ford get pulled away from him.

Ford stared, almost transfixed, at Stan's hands before abruptly standing up. "I should keep working," he muttered and swept off.

Stan crossed his arms and muttered, "Man, I thought I had been too grumpy as you." He laid back and sighed. Thirty years he had sat and wondered about how Ford would feel, how he'd react, what he was missing. And here they were, together again, and Stan still didn't know how the man felt. Not really. Yes, the punch had been a good clue as to some of it, but...He didn't know what had happened to Ford out there. He didn't know how it felt to be back. Was he disoriented? Scared? Excited? Overwhelmed?

Damn it, why wouldn't Ford let him help? How could he not see that Stan still cared about him? How much he missed him?

Maybe because you haven't told him, a voice said. Yeah, well, turn about's fair play, Stanford…

He shook his head. He had 'til the end of summer. He could still fix things. If he could fix an interdimensional portal, he could fix his relationship with his brother, his twin, his best friend…

Right?

September 2012

Stan sat on the porch of the Mystery Shack, watching the sun go down. Ford walked out and sat down next to him. "How are you doing, Stanley?"

"I'm fine. Mind feels good. You?"

"I'm...I'm good." Ford took a breath. "I'm sorry, Stanley."

Stan looked at him, eyebrows raised. "Didn't we do this already?"

"Not really. I may have apologized for certain events, but...I never told you that I'm grateful, not really. After everything you've lived through, all the things I caused, you gave your life over to bringing me back. You sacrificed your mind to save me, to save the world. And I never, I could never acknowledge before now how good a person you really are."

"You really don't need to do this, Ford, I know how cool I am-"

"No, you don't. Stanley, you think that you have to act like this to make up for something. I let you think you needed to fight for redemption after that science fair, and you've been fighting your whole life, never understanding that you are enough. I just want you to know that people see you, that they know you're a good person. The kids, Soos...me. You deserve to know how I feel." There was a pause as Stan gathered his thoughts, but then he started laughing. Ford furrowed his brows. "I'm not joking, Stanley. You are worthy of love, and-"

"No, no," said Stan, putting a hand on Ford's shoulder. "I...you're right, I don't have the best self esteem, but that's not it. I've spent 30 years wondering how you'd feel, what you'd do. And now, now I finally know." A single tear streaked down his face. "Thank you. I really think I needed to hear that."

Ford pulled him into a hug. "I only wish I could have told you sooner." At that, they both started crying in earnest, and Stan knew he finally knew how his twin felt.

Like him, he felt love.

#stanley pines #ford pines #stanuary #angst #BROTHER BONDING #STAN BEING SCARED #also Stan meeting baby dipper and mabel #it's also on AO3 I don't know how crossposting works lmao #gravity falls #i write sometimes #is this good?#maybe?#but we're having fun here

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purrincess-chat · 4 years ago

Text

Marinette Dupain-Cheng’s Spite Playlist: Remix CH12

It’s ya boooooy! Malin is here!! Super huge shout out to @salty-french-fry for bringing him to life. I commissioned her to draw all of my OC hero babies, so you can see Malin in all of his anime boy glory here! We stan a trans bicon. And for those who are unaware, Malin is another name for fox in French, but like with the connotation of calling someone sly or tricky. I hope you all enjoy this chapter! I tweaked it quite a bit from the original. ;)

Previous First Next AO3

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

Chapter 12: WTF Do I Know

“I know our duty is to the city, but I can’t help these feelings stirring my heart. Every time I see her brilliant blue eyes shining in the moonlight, I am overcome with passion and admiration. She truly is Miraculous.” Eliott looked to Marinette sitting cross-legged on the floor for approval. “How was that?”

“Incredible! You really have Chat Noir down,” she said.

Eliott rubbed the back of his neck. “Thanks, but I still feel like I could do better. Opening night is only a week away, and I’m playing one of the leads. Everything has to be perfect.” He paced the length of the stage, adjusting his black mask.

“I’m sure you’ll be fine. You make a wonderfully convincing Chat Noir.” She assured him—and she should know.

“Wonderfully convincing isn’t perfect. This play is a tribute to Ladybug and Chat Noir’s triumph on Heroes’ Day. If I screw up then I’ll be dishonoring them.” He turned and gestured to the impressive backdrop of the Eiffel Tower.

“No, you won’t.” Marinette stood up and placed a hand on his shoulder. “You’re an amazing actor, and I know you’re gonna kill it.”

“Places in five everyone!” The director swept through the stage.

Stagehands rushed around the set. Costume designers made last-minute alterations, and each prop was meticulously tested and placed for ease of access during scene changes. Marinette never realized how chaotic theater was behind the scenes.

Eliott let a deep breath past his lips, and Marinette offered him a smile. “I’ll be watching in the audience. You’re gonna do great.”

“Thanks, Marinette,” he said. “And thanks for coming to watch our dress rehearsal.”

“Thanks for inviting me.”

“Sorry I’m so crazy about everything, I just want to be the best.” He fiddled with his gloves. “I’ve been studying English since I was little because my dream is to perform on Broadway. I know it’s a long shot, but it’s what I’ve wanted ever since my grandma and I watched a play together when I was a kid.”

“You’ll get there, and I’ll be sitting in the front row with Macy, Martin, and Adrien.”

Eliott smiled at that, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “I actually owe you, Marinette. You’ve helped me a lot as an actor since we met.”

“Me? How?”

“You taught me to take risks. Before I met you, I was just coasting through life, staying out of the way, playing it safe, but now I can stand up for other people and speak out,” he explained. “You helped me find the courage to step outside my comfort zone.”

Her cheeks burned, but she smiled at the sentiment. All of her new friends gave praise so easily—something Marinette wasn’t used to. Helping others wasn’t about getting rewarded, and in most cases, the attention just made her squirm. She helped her friends because she cared. Although, even if their compliments embarrassed her, it was nice to know she was appreciated.

“Watch where you’re going!” A nasally voice grabbed their attention.

“Sorry!” A tiny stagehand shrank under the icy glare of her aggressor.

Eliott sprang into action to diffuse the situation. “Margot, is there a problem?”

“She bumped into me! Can you imagine if I had fallen and broken my wrist a week before opening night? How can I play Ladybug with a broken wrist?” Margot shouted.

Eliott stepped between her and the stagehand, holding up defensive hands. “I’m sure it was just an accident. No one got hurt, so why don’t you go cool off? We’re almost ready to start.”

“Ugh, whatever. Just stay out of my way!”

As she stalked off, Eliott turned to the small girl. “Are you okay, Lisette?”

“You know my name?” Her eyes widened.

“Of course. You hand me my props before I go on stage,” he said. “Don’t let Margot get to you. She’s just nervous because the show is in a week, and it’s her first time playing a lead.”

“It was my fault. I wasn’t watching where I was going,” Lisette said.

Eliott tucked a strand of her blonde hair back into place, brushing her cheek with his thumb. “Hey, don’t worry about it. We’re all a little high strung right now.”

“You’re not.”

Eliott flashed her a playful grin. “I’m a good actor.”

“I know,” she said, and when Eliott quirked a brow she fumbled to add, “I-I’ve kind of had to watch you for the past several months. You’re really good.”

“Wow, thanks, Lisette. I’m flattered that a pretty girl like you is a fan of mine,” Eliott said.

Her cheeks flushed, and she gave a small nod before scurrying off to her position at the director’s order.

Marinette couldn’t help the smile on her lips as Eliott found his mark and took a few deep breaths to center himself. He’d grown a lot since they met, and if someone had to play Chat Noir, she was glad it was him. She’d been uncertain at first, but Eliott really was worthy of being a hero, even if his costar was the worst. How could they cast such a brat to play Ladybug?

Taking her seat in the audience, Marinette thought back to her encounter with Gabrielle several nights prior. True to her word, Gabrielle hadn’t bothered them since, but what she was doing out on her own like that? And what was up with the apron in her bag? Something fishy was going on with her, but at least she was keeping her word. It was about time Marinette got some peace and quiet.

♪♫♪ I’m Not Calling You a Liar ♪♫♪

When the school bell rang, Alya remained seated, lips pursed. Her other classmates gathered their backpacks, eager to enjoy their weekend plans. Adrien paid her no mind as he slung his bag over his shoulder and followed everyone else out. They hadn’t spoken since their last encounter, and Alya still wasn’t sure what to think. He sounded so sure of himself. After being friends with Marinette, she knew far more about Adrien Agreste than she ever cared to, and truthfully, Alya didn’t think he was capable of being malicious.

Don’t believe everything Lila tells you. Be a journalist. Investigate.

But how? It’s not like Alya could just call up a bunch of celebrities and foreign princes to ask them to corroborate all of Lila’s stories, and even if she could, what would Lila think if they proved Adrien wrong? Or worse, what would Alya think if they proved him right? If they proved Marinette right…

It had been two weeks since she left. Two weeks since they… Alya had been hurt at first, and her heart still ached thinking about it now. In the grand scheme of things, she hadn’t known Marinette that long—only a few months—so it was possible that there were things Alya didn’t know about her. Dark secrets she kept hidden. But if that were possible for Marinette, couldn’t the same be true for Lila? And why was Alya so afraid to go looking?

“Alya? Did you hear me?”

She blinked out of her trance. “Sorry, what?”

“You’ve been awfully spacey lately,” Lila remarked. “I was just saying that I have an important meeting today with my youth ambassadors committee. Clara Nightingale has promised to sponsor our clean water initiative, and today’s the only day we can meet with her. Is there any way you can take care of that thing Mlle. Bustier needed for me?”

Don’t believe her.

“Actually, Lila, I have to go pick up my little sisters because Nora has practice this afternoon, and Mlle. Bustier did ask you to do it,” Alya said.

Lila’s eyebrows raised, but just as quickly, she puckered her lips into a pout. “Is there any way you could have Nino pick up your sisters? This meeting is really important.”

“Nino promised Juleka he’d help Kitty Section with their sound system today so they can practice before their gig this weekend.” Her heart pounded as Lila’s lip twitched.

“I mean, I guess I can put off my meeting. Those kids in India will just have to go a little while longer without clean drinking water…” Lila eyed her.

“Ya know, if you’re too busy to keep up with your class rep stuff, you can always tell Mlle. Bustier to let us elect someone else. I’m sure everyone would understand,” Alya said pointedly.

“And let Chloe become the class rep again? I couldn’t do that to you guys.” Lila shook her head.

“True, but I can’t cover for you all the time. I have my own stuff going on. Maybe I’m not saving third world countries, but sometimes I have a life to live too,” Alya said. “You were elected to do all of this, you know.”

“No, I understand,” Lila sighed. “I’ve been putting too much pressure on you to do my job. It’s just so hard to juggle going to school and saving the world. I’ll figure out a way to do it for all of you because you’re my friends, and my friends are just as important to me as any starving, third-world country.”

“Good. I’m glad to hear that you’ll be putting in more effort.” Alya stood up. “Have a good weekend.”

“Oh, I’m sure my weekend will be better than those thirsty children in Iran.”

Alya stopped in the doorway. “Don’t you mean in India?”

“What?”

“Earlier you said the meeting was for children in India. Now you just said Iran,” Alya said.

“Oh, yeah, that’s what I meant,” Lila said. “I have a different thing for Iran next week. It’s hard to keep everything straight when you’re so busy.”

“Right.” Alya’s eyes narrowed. “Well, good luck.”

“Give your sisters a hug for me!”

Alya’s hands shook as she headed up the hall. It was probably nothing, just a simple mix up like she said, but… Given the circumstances, it was a little suspicious. One thing was certain: Alya would be keeping an eye on her.

♪♫♪ Thnks fr th Mmrs ♪♫♪

“Your rehearsal was amazing,” Marinette said afterward over tea. “Well, except for Margot’s prop mishap. I thought she was going to have a meltdown.”

Eliott stirred his drink with a smirk. “She’s a great actress until something goes wrong,” he chuckled. “I just feel bad for Lisette. She looked like she wanted to kill her.”

“Speaking of Lisette…” Marinette gave him a knowing look. “I think she might have a crush on you.”

“Lisette? Nah.” Eliott averted his gaze, taking a sip of his tea. “I’m not anyone important. There’s no way she’d be into me.”

“That’s not true. You’re an amazing actor,” Marinette said. “I mean that, you don’t have anything to worry about.”

“Thanks, I guess the thought of someone liking me just makes me nervous.” He bit his lip.

“Come on. You flirt with everyone all the time,” Marinette said. “You flirted with me on my first day of school.”

“Flirting is different. Just because I flirt with people doesn’t mean they have to like me back,” he said, then biting his lip, added, “Do you really think she likes me?”

“As someone who struggles to get two coherent sentences out around the boy she likes, I think she likes you more than you know,” Marinette said.

“Speaking of… You and Adrien sure seem to get along.” He sipped his tea with a satisfied smirk as Marinette’s cheeks burned. He didn’t waste any time flipping the script, but it was her fault for opening that door.

“Oh, do we? I mean, of course we do. We’re just friends, I don’t have feelings for him at all,” she said with a nervous titter.

“I never said you did,” Eliott said.

“Oh, um, yeah, well then I- don’t tell Macy.” She hung her head in defeat.

“Your secret’s safe with me.” He shrugged. “But you don’t have to worry about Macy’s crush. It’s superficial. She fixates on some famous guy for a while, then moves on when something new catches her eye.”

Marinette relaxed. “Good. I’ve just liked Adrien for a long time, and ever since I left my old school, he’s been paying more attention to me, so…I don’t want it to come between us.”

“Nah, I’m sure if she knew she’d back off,” Eliott assured her. “She’s extremely loyal to her friends and would never try to take away something you wanted even if she wants it too. One time she and I argued for twenty minutes because she convinced herself I wanted the last cookie on the plate. We ended up breaking it in half.”

“That’s a relief.” Marinette let out a breath.

“Though I do have to wonder which sounds better, Marinette Agreste or Adrien Dupain-Cheng?”

Marinette nearly choked on her tea. “Eliott!”

“I’m kinda partial to Adrien Dupain-Cheng myself.”

“Stop!” She covered her face, cheeks burning, and Eliott threw his head back with a laugh.

A herd of people stampeded up the sidewalk right before a loud crash sounded a few blocks over. Debris fell from the ceiling, and Eliott tackled Marinette to the ground, cradling her head.

“That sounded close, we should run.” He pulled her to her feet. “My yacht isn’t far from here, we can hide there.”

As much as she hated to do it, Marinette needed to get away. Gradually, she let herself slip from his grasp in the crowd. Eliott turned over his shoulder in an attempt to reach her again, but too many people stood between them.

“Marinette!”

“Go! I’ll catch up,” she called.

His eyebrows furrowed worriedly, but he pressed on without question.

Marinette ducked into a nearby alley and opened her purse. “Ready, Tikki? Transform me!”

Ladybug tossed her yoyo across the street, tugging the slack and launching herself into the rooftops. Racing down the row of buildings, she followed the civilian trail to the scene of the attack. Overturned cars and broken windows signaled that she was on the right track, and she arrived at the same time as Chat Noir.

“Well, well we meet again, m’lady.” His flirtatious lilt echoed between the buildings as he staff-coptered down to join her.

“I would hope so since saving the city is our job.” She flicked his bell. “I think it’s about time we clocked in, don’t you?”

“Ladies first.” Chat Noir bowed as Ladybug tossed her yoyo and shot into action. “Don’t mean to interrupt your tirade, but I’m gonna need to see some license and registration for that car,” he said as they landed. “What’s the matter? Rough break up?”

The akuma turned to them with a growl, tossing the car aside, and Ladybug spotted a small blonde girl cowering underneath.

“Civilian alert!”

“On it.” Chat Noir charged forward, brandishing his staff.

“Ladybug! Chat Noir! I am Showstopper, and I’m about to give Paris the performance of a lifetime after I get rid of her.”

The small girl on the ground cowered under Showstopper’s glare, her blonde buns oddly familiar…

Ladybug gasped. “That’s Lisette which means Showstopper must be Margot! She really was upset by that mistake.”

Lisette attempted to run, but Showstopper served a ball of light at her with the tennis racket—the lucky charm prop from the play and likely where the akuma was hiding. The attack froze Lisette in place, but before Showstopper could make her next move, she blocked a blow from Chat Noir’s staff. A few seconds passed, and the magic faded, sending Lisette toppling forward.

“So that’s it,” Ladybug said, then to Chat Noir called, “Don’t let her hit you, or she’ll freeze you for a few seconds!”

“Got it!” He dodged an orb.

Once Showstopper drove him back several paces, she dashed after Lisette, launching a bus to the end of the street to block the exit.

“Going somewhere?”

“No, but you are.” Ladybug hooked her yoyo around Showstopper’s ankle. Showstopper lobbed several orbs at her before she could pull the slack, and Ladybug backflipped out of the way, diving for cover with Chat Noir behind two flipped cars.

“We need a plan to get that girl out of here.” He peeked over the side.

Ladybug palmed her yoyo. “Lucky Charm!” Her eyebrows raised as a paper lantern landed in her hands.

“Oh great, you can light the way for her to wreck that girl,” Chat Noir said.

Ladybug pursed her lips contemplatively. “I need to go to Master Fu,” she said. “Can you handle things until I get back?”

“Just don’t keep me waiting too long.” Chat Noir nodded before they broke off.

Leaving in the middle of a battle was always risky, but this wasn’t a fight they could win alone. She just hoped that she could find an ally in time.

“Master Fu?” Marinette knocked, peeking her head inside.

“What is it, Marinette?” He glanced up from his book.

“I need to borrow a Miraculous to win this battle.”

Master Fu retrieved the Miracle Box from the phonograph and placed it on the mat in front of her. “Have you found someone you trust to wield it?”

Marinette contemplated her choices carefully, running strategies in her head. After she and Alya split up, she wasn’t sure she’d ever trust someone enough to replace Rena Rouge, but her new friends proved her wrong. Taking a deep breath, she nodded and reached for the fox. “I know exactly who to pick, and I won’t let you down this time.”

Master Fu offered her one of his proud, grandfatherly smiles. “You never have. I have always had faith in you, Marinette.”

Her chest swirled with pride as she stood up. “Transform me.”

Eliott’s yacht was empty when Ladybug touched down on the deck. He told Marinette to hide there, so she’d been certain it was where he’d be. Then again, Eliott wasn’t the same cowardly boy he’d been when they met, and he didn’t turn his back on a friend. She knew where to find him.

“Marinette?” His voice echoed between the buildings of the abandoned street, and he flinched when Ladybug landed behind him. “Ladybug! Thank goodness, have you seen my friend Marinette? We got separated, and I told her to meet at my yacht, but-”

“Don’t worry. She’s safe,” Ladybug said. “Actually, I need your help.”

“My help?” He arched a brow. “I mean, sure, I'll do anything.”

“Eliott Chasse, this is the Miraculous of the fox which grants the power of illusion. You will use it to fight for the greater good.” She extended the box to him.

“Whoa, you're giving me a Miraculous?” he gasped. “But wait, why me? What happened to Rena Rouge?”

“She's...not around.” Ladybug averted her gaze. “Will you help me?”

“I-I dunno. I think my friend Marinette would be way better at this than me.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“Eliott…” Ladybug smiled, placing a hand on his shoulder. “You are the right person for this job. Have courage and believe in yourself. That's all you need to be a superhero.”

Eliott pressed his lips together, then accepted the box with a nod. Shielding his eyes from the bright light, he gaped in disbelief as Trixx materialized. “Whoa!”

“My name’s Trixx. I’m a kwami, and if you want to transform all you have to say is ‘Trixx, transform me!’” she explained as Eliott fastened the clasp of the necklace.

“Alright then. Trixx, transform me!” When the orange light faded, Eliott examined his orange and white suit with wide eyes. “Wait, is this really happening?”

“Do you know how your powers work?” Ladybug asked. There was no time to waste.

“Of course. I studied news footage in preparation for my role as Chat Noir in an upcoming play. I wanted to accurately portray the team's dynamic,” he said.

“Good, then follow me.”

Ladybug tossed her yoyo and shot off. Eliott hesitated only briefly, taking a few steps before leaping over the building after her. He touched down lightly beside her before they shot off again.

“I know it's a lot to take in, but we don't have a lot of time,” Ladybug said. She pulled up the news coverage of the akuma. Showstopper had taken the battle all the way to the Eiffel Tower. She skidded to a stop behind a chimney and closed her yoyo. “Hmm…Lucky Charm!”

“A bottle of soap? At least the villain will be squeaky clean?” Eliott shrugged.

Ladybug turned it over in her hands, a plan forming in her mind. “Okay, here’s what we’ll do.”

- - -

Showstopper held a frozen Lisette over the edge, and Chat Noir held up defensive hands as he attempted to negotiate.

“Hand over your Miraculous, or I'll drop her!”

“Maybe we can come to a compromise,” he reasoned, but Showstopper was in no mood.

“You have five seconds. One!”

“There has to be something else you want.”

“Two.”

“After all this is murder we're talking about.”

“Three!”

“I'm sure she didn't mean any harm.”

“Four!”

“Ladybug, hurry up!”

“Five!”

Before Chat could react, Showstopper released her grip, sending Lisette plunging toward her doom. Chat Noir attempted to dive after her, but Showstopper pitched another orb at him. To his relief, Ladybug swung in to deflect it just in time, but there was no time for gratitude.

“Ladybug! The girl!”

“Already taken care of,” she assured him.

- - -

Lisette unfroze midway down, eyes widening in fear as the ground grew closer. Just as a scream reached her throat, Eliott caught her, carrying her safely back to the Eiffel Tower. Her screams echoed across the bars as she clung to him for dear life, but they quieted the moment she looked into his eyes.

“Falling from heaven, angel?” He set her down gently. “Stay hidden. Showstopper can't see you if we want our plan to work.”

She blinked in shock, cheeks flushing. “Wait!” She caught his wrist as he turned to leave. “W-Who are you?”

“Uh… Call me Malin.” He winked, giving a two-finger salute before leaping up to the rafters.

Malin summoned his Mirage on the way up, cheeks still hot. Now wasn’t the time to worry about what Lisette thought of him. First, he needed to save her.

“You're too late!” Showstopper proclaimed, and Malin cleared his throat.

“Are we?” He clocked a brow.

Showstopper spun around where Malin held his fake damsel. “No!” she growled.

“New friend?” Chat Noir sized him up.

“I'll tell you later,” Ladybug said.

Malin set his illusion free with instructions to run, and as expected, Showstopper gave chase. Ladybug really was a wizard at coming up with plans. When Chat Noir moved to follow, Malin stepped in front of him with a wink.

“Who are you?” he asked, eyes narrowing.

“Name's Malin, and you are one foxy feline in person, Chat Noir.” He looked him up and down.

“Less flirting, more running. Phase two,” Ladybug ordered. “Kitty, follow me and get ready to use your Cataclysm. Malin, you know what to do.”

“On it.” Malin nodded, leaping back over the edge with a whoop.

Showstopper pursued the fake Lisette to the second-floor restaurants, falling right into their trap. She skidded against the soapy floor as Malin's illusion faded before her eyes. A broom perched between two chairs clotheslined her, sending her tennis racket flying from her grasp right into Chat Noir's waiting Cataclysm.

Malin helped Margot up as Ladybug captured the akuma and returned everything to normal. “Seriously, losing your cool over a prop malfunction is so lame.” He chided. “You're playing Ladybug, so my suggestion is: take a lesson from the real thing and let go of that bad energy.”

Lisette peeked up from the stairs timidly, pacing over to join them. “I'm sorry your yoyo string was tangled. I should have checked it,” she said.

“Yeah, whatever.” Margot rolled her eyes. “Sorry I tried to throw you off the Eiffel Tower.”

“Technically, you did throw her off the Eiffel Tower,” Chat Noir said pointedly.

“You were awesome, Malin.” Ladybug nudged him with her elbow.

“It was your plan, all I did was help.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

Ladybug shook her head. “You saved this girl, and we couldn't have done it without you. Be proud. You're a true superhero.”

Malin bit back a smile, surveying his suit and squaring his shoulders with a new sense of purpose. Ladybug was right. He had his doubts when she asked him because he still had a long way to go before he would consider himself an actual hero. If anyone deserved the title without a Miraculous, it was Marinette, and he owed this opportunity to her. He never would have had the courage to accept Ladybug’s offer without her. It was a shame she’d never know how much she truly changed his life. Maybe one day he could tell her this secret, but for now, he’d wear his secret identity like an invisible badge of honor.

“Pound it!” The three heroes said in unison.

Malin turned to Lisette and bowed formally. “Perhaps I will save you again someday,” he said.

Lisette bit her lip before stretching up to kiss his cheek. “Thank you,” she whispered.

Ladybug took his wrist and toted him off as a dopey grin spread across his lips. They retreated to a private corner at the base of the tower, and Malin returned the necklace to Ladybug. Shoving his hands in his pockets, Eliott shifted his gaze to his shoes with a sigh.

“What's wrong?” Ladybug asked.

“Nothing, just… Lisette kissed Malin, not Eliott.” He kicked at the ground.

“You really like her, don't you?” Ladybug asked.

Eliott flinched, rubbing the back of his neck. That morning the thought of falling in love with someone terrified him, but now… Maybe he hadn’t come down from his heroic high, but with Lisette’s kiss still burning on his cheek, he smiled.

“Yeah, I do,” he said.

“Well, Malin is very charming, but I think she might need someone to walk her home. Think Eliott can handle that?” Ladybug pointed to where Lisette was stepping off the elevator.

Have courage and believe in yourself.

On any other day, the fear of rejection would have convinced him to walk away, and maybe tomorrow it would. But today, today he wasn’t afraid.

“Lisette! Wait up.”

#marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist #marinette dupain-cheng's spite playlist remix #mdcsp #mdcspr #my writing #cats ocs

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stilemawillow · 4 years ago

Text

His Eyes and Her Mind [Levi | Reader | High school AU!]

You're slowly browsing through your old Psychology notebook before you pinpoint a sentence that draws your attention. Your reaction is immediate - your lips curl into a condescending smile as you stare at it, highly amused.

'Eyes are a door to one's soul.'

Yeah, as if. You cackle and your boyfriend throws you a strange look from his seat across the table outside the café you're currently at. Honestly, you've never believed this eye to soul connection and there is very little that can change your opinion on the matter.

1. Normal look Indifference

You walked down the hallway with your best friend Hanji when you saw him. Hanji flipped her brown hair over her shoulder, talking about your Biology lesson, but you could no longer hear her as distinctly. He was walking towards you with his small group of friends - Isabel and Farlan, the girl and boy on both his sides discussing something heatedly as he watched the debate silently.

You were approximately five feet away when he also looked up and saw you. You felt something turn inside you, but it was a daily occurrence around him so you ignored the sign as always and stared into his gunmetal orbs. Your face stayed impassive and so did his as your small groups passed each other down the hallway, but you had to admit you liked the attention he had been giving you recently.

Sure, you'd never really talked, but you'd exchanged plain courtesy and greetings at times when it was inevitably going to happen anyway. You never thought much of it - he was attractive and he was staring at you more than you'd ever seen him stare at anybody, but that was it. It didn't make your heart flutter, your knees wobble or your head spin. It shouldn't have as well.

You just couldn't get his dumb eyes out of your head.

2. Intense stare Frustration

What's his problem?! You were fucking sure if he kept staring at you like that you were going to get up and slap him at one point. Second term turned out to be your "lucky" one since you now shared three out of seven classes with Levi Ackerman, the one that had been paying you attention since the beginning of the junior school year.

Your brows momentarily furrowed.

Of course, since you'd had only two short-term boyfriends in your life so far and they'd never really paid much attention to you you enjoyed it more than you should've. It still didn't make your knees wobble or your mind fogged up with daydreams of the boy sweeping you off your feet, but you still hadn't even led a proper conversation.

You nervously licked your dry lips.

You were forced to officially meet last month during a project you had to do with three other people, but other than that stiff interaction you'd never even said anything to him and he seemed fine with that. Only recently, however, his attention seemed to have gone to the next level. For a week straight he'd been staring you down like he wanted to come up to you and ask you to willingly give him all your valuable personal belongings.

You got a hand through your hair in frustration.

Today was especially intense for some unknown to you reason, but it was pissing you off since you could feel it and it made you uncomfortable. Did he have some kind of problem with you - your attire, attitude, appearance as a whole? Maybe you pissed him off? Maybe you'd said something wrong? Maybe he was in a bad mood and decided to get it out on you?

A sigh left your lips.

You doubted the last one since Levi always seemed like he was in a bad mood, but you'd never seen him stare at somebody like this just because of that. You didn't know what his stare meant and that pissed you off more than the distracting persistence of his gunmetal hues. You were frustrated up to the point of blowing up any second now - his stare had made you avoid him as a whole less than ten minutes ago.

Your finger started tapping on your notebook impatiently.

The teacher at the front was talking about something you couldn't even pay attention to, Levi's tense orbs were digging holes into your face and the feeling of it was unsettling. So Hanji had been right when she said people could actually feel when they were being watched. You looked up, anything but interested in your work and stared right back into the gunmetal hues of the male across your desk, sharing his best friend's coursebook which had forced him to turn his back to the teacher and his face to you.

You saw his own eyebrow twitch momentarily but his gaze never left yours. You glared hard into his eyes, trying to provoke him, but it was in vain - he didn't react in any way. You tried to read what in the fucking hell had made him this annoyed with you in the first place - could there be any specific reason for his staring?

Your stomach turned again when you saw him get a hand through his silky locks as his eyes left yours. Great, now you were the one staring. Your eyes narrowed and you kept observing him, but he made no effort whatsoever to regain the lost eye contact, which just made you angrier.

Was he trying to make you look like a creep by staring at him? Well, you weren't going to have it.

With a huff, your attention went back to your own coursebook. You could feel his intense stare on your face less than a second after that. To say that you almost broke your pen in half wasn't an understatement.

3. Bashful avoidance Confusion

He just had to be like that, didn't he? Levi Ackerman, the all mighty, fearless sorta bad boy, sorta nerd. He just had to keep looking at you, giving your desperate being some kind of false hope and a shit ton of mixed signals. And what was worse - he didn't seem to regret it one bit. The worst however was yet to come and it was the unknown. Sometimes it scared you more than your biggest fears.

Fear of heights? Well, this building's last floor may be the fifth or fifty-fifth, wouldn't know with that fog.

Fear of the dark? That room might be lit up by the sun itself, but it could also be pitch black. Wouldn't want to understand which.

Fear of not knowing something? Levi Ackerman might as well tell you he loved or loathed you - you couldn't care less, but the tension of not knowing which of the two it was would break you before his words came out of his mouth.

Of course, the above was just a simple example of the situation at hand, which, in your personal opinion, was way worse. He was staring at you - fine. He made this strange thing happen to your internal organs with his presence - fine. He was charming, strangely kind, attractive, funny, intelligent and somehow generous, and he was paying attention to you of all people - fine. He confused you with his behaviour - not fine.

It had taken him two more days to calm down his intense stare, but he gradually did so and soon enough it was back to how it had always been - exchange of glances along the length of the hallway or up and down the stairs, sometimes even outside during lunch break. You rarely saw him out of school even though he lived in the same neighbourhood as you (which you knew since you regularly took the bus together) which was a relief of kinds. However, his recent behaviour seemed to confuse you more than anything.

First, he paid attention to you. Then, he tried to dig a hole into your face using only his eyes. Next, he stopped staring altogether and instead seemed like he was flirting with some other girl. Sure, she flirted first, but that wasn't much of an excuse. And all of a sudden, he was super friendly with the girl while eyeing you up constantly whenever you saw each other. It confused the fuck out of your mind and you hated not understanding certain things.

Not that you were the best when it came to emotions, socialising and such, but Levi had been remotely easy to read. Well, not now.

He walked into the school building with Farlan, sitting on the bench inside and facing your way (because you and Ymir were sitting on the bench across the room). You had a clear view of his eyes and how they trailed over your face, gently trying to push you to make eye contact with him. You didn't. Not yet anyway. It took you five seconds of a pointless exchange of stupid trivial phrases with Ymir to finally meet his gaze. You'd washed your hair earlier the same morning and combed it as much as you could before going out, so it was not a surprise that Levi noticed that - he always saw the little things.

Under normal circumstances, you'd lock gazes for the overall of ten seconds before either of your friends tore you away from the craved eye contact. This time it was different. Why? Because he looked away in less than a second.

Your brows raised in surprise and you listened to Ymir's story of her and Krista's date with half an ear, nodding occasionally when she would pause. The male's gesture confused you immensely - why did he look away? Was there something wrong with you? Did you not look as good? Of course, the mere fact that the action of his eyes averting from yours made you doubt yourself and grow self-conscious was stupid, but you couldn't help it - he never acted like that and you wanted to know why he did now.

This was where irritation came in. He confused you and you hated being confused, but it was inevitable - his further behaviour only made the issue deepen. The action repeated exactly four times before he and Farlan decided enough was enough and went up the stairs. He would look at you, hold your gaze for less than two seconds and look away as indifferently as possible. There were no changes in his facial expression and you could read nothing in his eyes. You were baffled at that - you were usually the one to look away.

You noticed the nervous tapping of his finger on his knee and the slight twitch of his thin eyebrow, but it wasn't something you considered significant at the time. You should have. Because it was.

4. Piercing glare Anger

"I told you for the last time - I'm not going out with you, Mark."

Everything was pissing you off - today had started badly and was currently holding a steady pace. You had a pop quiz on your most hated subject so you barely got any sleep. Your mother had broken the coffee machine and your father had refused to fix it so no caffeine for you. And now due to yesterday’s downpoar your muddy shoes made you slip every few seconds.

Also, the constant annoyance bugging at your mind because of Levi's closeness with Petra was wow, what a surprise - annoying. It was troubling you on an emotional level, which was bad because if it was a trivial problem having to do with anything else you'd be in perfect condition to ignore it. Finally, this guy - Mark, who had been hitting on you for the past month suddenly decided to make an appearance during lunch break, block your way to your precious caffeine and ask you out on a date after you'd already refused him approximately five times.

Not to mention, he wasn't from the innocent annoying type - he was from the persistent scary type, where shit could get serious if you got too aggressive yourself. And right now, all you wanted was to get some fucking coffee and go back to class.

"Why, (Y/N)? You don't have a boyfriend." Mark put his hand on the tree which you'd found solace next to up until this moment, turning it into a trap that had just clicked instead. You found his smug strangely irritating today, to the point you could punch him if he tried anything funny.

"I just don't see you in that way, I don't want to waste my time." You retorted, teeth gritting in annoyance before the male decided to stop playing around. There weren't many people around you since the only coffee machine in a mile's radius was pretty far away and most students preferred to spend their time in the little shops around the school building and the cafeteria instead.

"So you're saying I'm a waste of time?" Mark leaned closer to you and his eyebrows furrowed, his pretty face finally showing its true colours. He had dirty blond curly hair and plain brown eyes, he was rather muscular and tall - all things he felt immensely proud of. Despite his face and body, however, he wasn't overly popular - he played sports and loved to hook up with every girl a bit above average, which really brought him down into the eyes of the female population in your school, resulting in some major disapproval coming from the student body.

"I'm saying it will waste our time as a whole, it's useless." You said, trying to ignore the way you wanted to punch him straight in the jaw. Maybe it wouldn't even work, but trying would surely satisfy your inner aggressive side - you just had to imagine you were hitting that stupid girl that was flirting with Levi.

"Not if I say it's not." Mark argued, making you turn your face to the side because of how close he was getting to you.

"Are you threatening me?" You inquired slowly with narrowed eyes. He just laughed at you before smirking down at your face.

"Do you want me to threaten you or will you agree to go out with me willingly?"

"Does that mean if I don't say 'yes' you'll force me?"

"Yes." He looked like the Big Bad Wolf about to have breakfast when he put his other hand on the tree behind you, pinning you between his arms. "When I want something I get it." His expression may have been seductive, but to you it was disgusting - how could such a male survive so long in society when he was this stupid and forceful?

"Didn't know you were a rapist besides being a womanizer." You pointed out, only to have the daylights slapped out of you a second later.

"Shut up!" He should have been thankful there weren't people around, otherwise, somebody would have come and stopped him by now. You guessed you wouldn't be able to have your coffee soon. The slap made your cheek sting and your eyes narrowed in fury. Sure, you couldn't do anything to fight him off except kick him in the nuts, which wouldn't do as much as you'd want it to, but you could sure as hell glare at him all you wanted.

"You're pathetic, you can't even take a rejection." You faced Mark, angry yet scared of what he might do to you now. You weren't going to let him have his way just because he was stronger, though. His face twisted in fury and he grasped your wrist, bruising the skin with his calloused fingers. He was about to hit you again with his other hand before it happened.

"Let go." Another male growled behind Mark's back. "Right. Now."

"Since when are you interested in protecting people? Or is it just this bitch?" Mark snarled at the other male, which you soon came to understand was actually Levi. Your eyes were wide as you stared at his frown. You doubted you'd ever seen him that angry.

"Are you sure you can question me right now?" The raven-haired boy asked with furrowed brows and a glare so hard you thought it would burn you if he directed it towards your eyes. Mark flinched and you felt his grip on your wrist loosen up a bit.

"What do you think you can do to me, Ackerman?" The blond asked cockily even though you could see his jaw clench in helplessness. You realised who would win if they got in a fight and honestly - if somebody asked you to name one thing that would probably make you piss yourself from fear it was going to be Levi's glare in the current moment. It burned with the intensity of a raging fire for unknown to you reasons - it couldn't be because of you, right? He was probably here to get himself coffee and decided to play 'save the damsel in distress' on the way to the machine.

"Do you wanna see?" Levi closed in on you and Mark and you felt your wrist fall from his hold as he stepped back. Levi cracked his knuckles and the blond gulped. You didn't really think Levi's words were what scared him off.

"I'm just tired because I had a match during PE. Next time this won't happen." He ran faster than anything you'd seen after that, leaving you and Levi all alone.

"Because there won't be a next time." The raven mumbled to himself dangerously low. His glare moved from the ground to you and you felt your blood boil. You glared back at him and pushed yourself off the tree with furrowed eyebrows and a scowl.

"What a fucking dumbass! I could handle him, you know, I didn't need your help!" You exclaimed in the raven's face. Surprisingly that was probably the first proper conversation you were having with him after your stiff official meeting.

"Do you really think so? Because I think you would've been raped in less than ten minutes." He pointed out in the most indifferent voice ever, making you try to dig a hole into his skull with your eyes. His glare was making you angrier yourself. When he stepped closer to you and gently wrapped his fingers around your bruised wrist your expression twisted in disgust and you yanked your hand away from his hold, ignoring how his glare had actually scared you moments ago.

You stepped away from him and went away, but not before snarling: "Don't fucking touch me."

5. Shocked gleam Fright

"Hanji, stop talking about this, it's stupid." You were walking down the stairs with your brown-haired friend once again - a week or so had passed after the whole 'Mark incident' and surprisingly enough he never even approached you after that, it was like he was afraid to. You didn't pay much attention to it, going back to your routine of stealing glances at Levi Ackerman from time to time when he wasn't looking and hoping his gaze was tracing your face just as much as yours did his.

Unfortunately, you kept catching Petra Ral flirting with him and there was nothing you could do about it but blame yourself for not having the self-esteem to talk to him like she did. Right now, the discussed topic was close to your problems.

"I'm just saying if you mustered up some courage and started talking to him regularly his interest would pick up and hers would fade. The boy's basically staring at you every chance he gets, (Y/N)." Hanji argued as you pushed your way down the stairs through the other students going up. You knew Levi and Farlan were somewhere behind you since you had the same class together now, you just hoped neither of them would pick up on your conversation with the brown-haired girl.

"Hanji, I said stop. I don't want to talk about it anymore. Period." You stated harshly, looking at the girl next to you and clutching your backpack tighter. You briefly heard 'look at this' before someone bumped into you from behind and you lost your footing on the steps. Your body, your backpack and your combat boots tumbled down the stairs with nothing to catch on.

For a small second, you managed to use some student's shoulder to try and stabilise yourself, but it didn't work - it just turned your body so that you would fall on your back once the fateful moment came. You had a clear view of Hanji's parted lips and horrified expression. Right next to her, however, you saw something you may have just as well imagined with everything moving so fast.

Levi's hand was pushing through the students to get down faster and his eyes screamed something you couldn't really read. They gleamed in a way you never thought you'd see, like he'd seen his favourite cat get run over by a car on the street. Or something of the sort. You felt something grasp your hand, but had no time to see what exactly. The impact was here.

You didn't have time to analyse his wide eyes because your world went black less than a second after you were exposed to the complex sight.

Two hours later, you woke up in the infirmary with a giant headache and a panicked Hanji coming to visit you once classes were over. During your stay, you asked the nurse what had happened, but the only thing she said confused you even more: "If I understood correctly, the boy's arm almost broke when he used it to soften your fall. Well, you didn't get out completely uninjured since your back is bruised, but maybe you were actually lucky."

The next day Levi didn't come to school.

6. Deep gaze Care

Calm, (Y/N), keep calm. It's all fine. You repeated over and over again in your head. Not like you had a chance to begin with, it's not a big deal.

Your breaths were coming out ragged and you felt like you weren't trembling because the ground in front of the side entrance of the school building was cold. A month, that was how long Levi had talked to you for. After the incident on the stairs at school and Levi's short absence after that, he started nodding to you when you'd see each other in the halls and you'd throw him a small smile, acknowledging his greeting. That went on for about two weeks before he came to you one day and asked to work with you since Farlan was absent and they always used the same coursebook. You'd said 'yes' without thinking much. Needless to say, you didn't really use the coursebook much that day yourself, you were too busy stealing glances at the male's face from up close and he was too nervous to actually read the exercises you were supposed to be doing.

After that it became a routine for him to approach you at least once a day - he'd give you a plain greeting, ask you about the classes you shared or if you wanted to get coffee together during lunch break (you felt he'd become overprotective after Mark even though there was no reason to be overprotective over you and no danger as a whole). There was always an excuse. Once he even sat next to you on the bus when there were no more free seats. You were happy, your mind was filled with butterflies and your stomach welled up with pleasant thoughts when he was around - or was it supposed to be the other way around?

It didn't matter since for a month you were the happiest girl on Earth.

And then Petra Ral came along. Needless to say, things started becoming shaky and you were drifting away - you didn't want to mess up her flirting with him. He seemed like he didn't notice or he was purely being an asshole and doing it on purpose. Not that it really mattered, you caught them making out less than four hours ago during lunch break. The worst was that he made eye contact right before breaking apart.

Not with her, with you. You would've felt sorry for her because her partner was clearly not paying attention to the activity she was putting so much effort (and tongue) into, but you hated her guts out of pure spite so you couldn't even care about emotions connected to empathy.

It's not his fault, he didn't give me any false hope - I created it myself.

That was your calming chant - he didn't do it just to break your heart, he did it because he wanted to be kind or use your coursebook when Farlan was gone. It wasn't to hurt you intentionally. It sounded stupid now that you thought about it - hoping for anything out of Levi Ackerman. He barely knew you and you barely knew him. Usually, you'd counter yourself with the argument you hadn't even led a proper conversation, but the worst here was that that was invalid now - you'd led many conversations throughout the past month and you'd enjoyed every single one of them no matter how stupid or trivial. For God's sake, you even enjoyed discussing different types of coffee and tea with him.

You weren't crying - you were having something like a minor panic attack, where you just trembled like a leaf and couldn't stop thinking about throwing your useless being in front of some passing bus. Truth be told, you hated these moments - if somebody had seen you during them that was Hanji and Hanji only. You'd never even let your parents understand about it even though the signs must've been there. The twitching, the trembling, the sweating, the ragged breathing. It was there. All of it was out there and if Levi ever saw it he'd truly give up on whatever you had even if it was as insignificant as your existence in the current moment.

You tried to laugh, but it came out messed up - like a person choking. You sat there for five more minutes - in the cold with the wind brushing your hair before you burrowed your face in your knees and closed your eyes. You could feel the tears, but they didn't want to come out. It was useless - crying about a boy that didn't even care about you.

Then somebody gently bumped your leg with their arm. Your head shot up and your hand instinctively reached for the pepper spray in your pocket, the one your father had given you as a Christmas present many months ago. Your eyes widened when you saw who was in front of you.

"Levi," you said, "why are you here?"

His face was expressionless as he gestured towards the cup in his hand. Your eyebrows furrowed and your hand went out of your pocket to grasp the carton cup he was clearly handing you. You smelled the beverage inside, relishing in the pleasant aroma of coffee. It made a smile spring out on your lips. Before you could register what was happening Levi had sat down next to you - closer than a guy with a girlfriend was supposed to sit next to another girl when they were all alone. The action made you flinch, but you didn't move away - it was a rare thing you got to sit this close to him.

You could smell his cologne - it was a fresh, strong smell that made you want to rub your face all over his chest. The male ran a hand through his ebony locks and you marvelled at the sight of his hair's softness. His body was oozing heat, beckoning you to go closer, as close as possible, and lay your head on his chest as his warm arms wrapped around you. You didn't.

"So, about today..." He started, sounding strangely stiff. You sipped from your coffee, warming your cold fingers with the cup and listening. Your stomach took one of those unpleasant turns, but you didn't let it show on your face.

"What exactly about today?"

"I don't even know if I should be discussing this with you, for all I know Farlan's sixth sense may be way too off the shitty map and you don't actually---" His confidence was gone once his panicked gaze met your curious orbs. He seemed confused, disgruntled and so many others. You were perplexed at his behaviour - was he usually this twitchy when it came down to your normal conversations? No, he wasn't, you figured a few seconds later.

"Well," you started after seeing he wouldn't continue, "I don't really know about Farlan's sixth sense, but I---"

"The kiss." He'd cut you off so abruptly you felt like he'd knocked the air out of your lungs with those two short syllables. "The kiss with Petra, it wasn't anything important. It was just a kiss." He continued, getting a hand through his hair again and scratching the back of his undercut with discomfort. "I know we both seem to acknowledge something without me saying it - something about us." You could guess where he was going with that. He meant the constant staring, all the glances and whatnot before you'd started talking. Or at least you thought he meant that. "Petra means nothing, she was just--- she was flirting with me I just didn't stop her because I wasn't sure if you... felt anything."

"... okay."

"Is it?" He asked once his eyes met yours. Your breath hitched in your throat and your fingers felt like ice even though they'd warmed up considerably. "Is it okay? Are you?"

"Everything's fine." Your forced smile turned out way more genuine than expected. His gaze was firm and his eyebrows were furrowed - he was trying to detect a lie somewhere along your sentence. He sighed when that didn't happen and for a few seconds, you were both silent. You were trying to process the situation.

Levi. Feelings. She was just flirting. Am I feeling anything?

Your heartbeat was erratic enough to answer in your stead. Then you looked up from the cup in your hands and met his gaze. You'd be lying if you said it wasn't the most mesmerizing thing you'd seen in your life. His eyes, so grey and so soft, pulled you in, it was like you couldn't look away from them. They were special, he was special and he made you feel special. Why was it that he looked at you with such affection? Were you reciprocating the gaze? You didn't know, but you felt like you could stay like that for hours.

And that was when it happened. Before you even had time to escape his warm hypnotising gaze.

He leaned in and kissed you.

7. Careless eyeroll Reluctance

"You have to go." Hanji insisted, having already annoyed you as much as possible with her various arguments on the topic of your stubbornness.

"And you have to rethink the rights you have over my actions as a self-conscious human being." You replied boredly before placing a hand in front of your mouth in fake shock. "Oh, that's right - they don't exist in the first place." You gasped fakely, making her roll her eyes at your behaviour - forced nonchalance. She knew you wanted to accept the invitation but were too afraid everything would be ruined before you even had the chance to meet up.

"Would you please stop mocking me with those complex phrases, (Y/N)? You won't die if you go to a movie with him." The brunette insisted once more before you turned the corner and you frowned at her.

"Sure, not physically, but I'll be dying the whole time mentally - of embarrassment." You sassed, making the brown-haired girl huff in determination as she walked you to your next class. Your schedules differed the second term, so you could only see her during breaks and inbetween other classes. Right now you seriously didn't want to see her, though. She'd been pestering you about Levi's invitation for the past week.

"So it's decided, you will go." She stated, making you gape at her as you both stopped in front of the door for your next class.

"I never sa---"

"The tense, (Y/N), the tense is the key." Hanji cut you off with a cocky smirk and a mischievous gleam in her brown hues. Of course, she'd just forced you to accept. You had no choice - you knew the raven would probably remind you of it as well and you'd have to finally give him a proper answer.

"Shut up, Hanji." You glared at your best friend before she pushed you into the room.

"Now go." She ushered from the doorway while pointing in Levi's direction and you threw her a dirty look before stomping away. Less than three steps later he turned around and looked into your eyes, making you almost trip over your own feet.

"Hi." You greeted awkwardly as the male took out his notebook and eyed you up from head to toe. His gaze made you nervous and your knees were about to start wobbling when he spoke up.

"So about my earlier request, which you've been avoiding to answer for about a week?" Levi pushed gently although in a you-don't-have-a-choice-but-to-answer way, making you avert your eyes to the other side of the room in hopes of seeming calmer than you were. You knew it wouldn't work that well, but you hoped to have at least looked nonchalant.

"... I accept." Was your brief answer as your eyes glanced at Levi's visage secretly and directed themselves to the floor right after.

"I guess I should be grateful?" He rolled his eyes at you, reluctance dripping from the sentence. You knew his face would be a bit softer even though you weren't looking at it. You were good at guessing by his voice (not that it always worked), so right now you acknowledged he was just trying to tease you.

"If I don't see Petra Ral giving you a blowjob afterwards it's going to be fine." You said mockingly with narrowed eyes, which just called for some fake concern on his side. Of course, he and Petra had not become official, but anything was possible. You held resentment for that girl more than you did for yourself - that was something deserving of a medal.

"That was uncalled for." Levi tried to protect her boredly as your eyes finally met his.

"Yes, you're right, but that does not change my mind on the matter." Your tone was firm as you walked towards your own desk, close enough to his so you could connect them and look at the same coursebook. He followed behind silently.

"Fine." He mumbled while watching you put your backpack on the desk. You started digging through the numerous notebooks and course books for the ones you needed currently, which probably reminded him of your little tradition to share a coursebook. "The coursebook?" He inquired, asking if you've brought it which was stupid because you'd never forget it (no matter if you were going to admit it or not, you'd always put it first in your backpack because it gave you a reason to be close to him).

"It's here." You announced once having laid it down on the desk next to your notebook and he got to work with pushing your desks closer.

"Thank you by the way." He mumbled once class had started and your teacher had entered the room. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you looked into his bright grey eyes.

"What for?" You asked quietly as he eyed up the exercise your teacher had just written on the board. He didn't look up again for the next three seconds. All you were given after that was a brief glance filled with something you couldn't understand before Levi's eyes were pinned back to the coursebook.

"... maybe I should leave you to figure it out yourself."

8. Grinning glimmer Happiness

The weather was calm, it was around noon and strong wind had been making the trees' branches bend mere minutes ago. Snow covered the ground all around, there had been a storm during the night and judging by the white inches stacked on top of the ground it hadn't been all that light. Now the sun was shining in the blue sky deprived of clouds and the air was cold and so still you could bet time itself wouldn't move until some wind blew by.

You fidgeted uncomfortably and stood in front of the wooden door of the small single-storey house, contemplating whether you should knock or run away now that you still had time to do it. Fate didn't really leave you a choice since just as you were about to turn round the door opened and made your eyes widen in alarm. You looked up and faced the person who had opened it with an insecure expression.

"... hey." You greeted after a small pause while Levi still processed your presence at his doorstep.

"What are you doing here?" His eyebrows furrowed and you drew your hands from behind your back, handing him the little box you were holding. The chilly air made your face go red anyway, so you hoped he wouldn't notice the change in its colour due to other causes as you talked.

"I was passing close by and I thought I could come and say 'hi'. So, hi, I guess." You smiled awkwardly, making him raise a thin eyebrow as he took the grey box from your hands. "And I bought this for you, but since we're in the middle of winter break I didn't really have a pretext to see you, so I might've created it... or something." You switched your weight between your left and right foot during your explanation while Levi stared at you wondrously.

"... for Christmas?" He questioned after a slight pause and you noticed he might've been cold judging by the way he only had on a plain pair of jeans and a sweatshirt.

"No, it's for your birthday. Happy birthday by the way." You smiled a bit, eyeing him up from head to toe again and starting to regret having come at all. You guessed it would've been better if you'd waited until the end of winter break to give it to him. "Um, I guess I have to go." You stepped backwards before he smirked slightly and a mischievous gleam shone in his eyes.

"And insult the tradition?" He inquired slyly as your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at him in confusion.

"What tradition?" You witnessed the flicker of his eyes to the doorframe above your heads and what you saw there made your breath hitch, something the raven was able to pinpoint quickly due to the chilly weather making every breath you took exit in the form of a white puff of smoke. Your eyes were still pinned to the object at the top of the doorframe. A mistletoe. "... oh. I'm not really sur---"

Before you had time to finish refusing the very generous yet embarrassing offer, Levi had stepped closer and cupped your cheek with his warm hand. His lips pressed to yours in a rather long, tender kiss and you felt yourself basically melting outside his doorstep. It was as if sparks flew about in your mind - just like the first time he'd kissed you. When his lips parted from yours and you opened your eyes, you saw his orbs glimmering so brightly it was as if he'd grinned your way.

"Thank you for the present, (Y/N)." He whispered, hot breath hitting your lips, and when he stepped back again you could swear he was mentally laughing at your frozen stance. You almost stumbled on your way away from the door.

"S-See you at school!" You waved, turning around and basically running away as fast as possible from the embarrassment, your boots crushing the soft snow under them down the path to your own home. You were a coward, but a happy feeling was bubbling in your chest, and God, for that look in his eyes you'd bear a lot more humiliation and possible snowstorms.

9. Foggy narrowness Arousal

Indecent. That was what you were being right now.

"You shouldn't have gotten detention because of me." Levi scoffed, grey orbs eyeing the empty room you were currently in after today's accident during lunch break when he'd gone to fetch coffee for both of you and you'd waited for him by the entrance even after most students had gone back inside the building because of the bad weather.

"And you shouldn't have been an asshole to a teacher to begin with." You scolded him back, your eyes, in turn, being pinned to his face and the desperate way he was holding himself back from looking at you as well because he was supposedly mad. You were leaning on the desk he'd seated himself at, seeing as the teacher in charge of detention was still nowhere to be seen.

"He was feeling you up." Levi said as if it would justify the whole situation and indeed, it did. You didn't know what you two were - certainly not an official couple anyway, but you were closer than before and now offered each other physical affection more often without as much embarrassment being present (although it still happened when you were all alone).

Your face went cold and that was exactly when he decided to direct his gaze your way - it was cold and sharp and you knew he'd seen right through you, almost immediately so. You'd been scared. Disgusted. Your fingers started fidgeting with the hem of your shirt and you averted your gaze to the floor at your feet.

"... doesn't matter, you almost punched him." You said accusingly and Levi rolled his eyes at your stupid excuse.

"I would've if we'd been outside of school territory." He declared and something in that sentence of somewhat sweet protectiveness (although expressed through aggression) made you extremely uncomfortable. You still hadn't told him anything about your feelings and he about his, you'd only gone out on numerous dates and spent an enormous amount of time looking at each other more openly - you rarely spoke of each other's feelings and you felt discomfort just thinking of the moment that would be needed for you to sustain this thing you had going on. You didn't know if Levi thought the same. You groaned in slight exasperation and turned your head toward the door of the room.

"Ugh. Where's the teacher in charge of detention anyway? We've been here for ten minutes now." You complained, wanting to talk of something else since it was obvious the raven had won this little argument of yours. Levi took the chance to stand up and lean close to you and when you turned back round his eyes were way closer than anticipated.

They pulled you in but weren't as sharp as every other day. When he leaned closer and kissed you, you got a hunch why it was that way. During the kiss, his hand placed itself on your thigh and his whole body hovered over yours like predator hovered over pray prior to the finishing blow.

"... the teacher can come in any second now, Levi." You warned firmly yet in a small voice once the raven had started kissing down your neck. You felt giddy because it was nice and wow - since when was that so pleasant? Your previous boyfriends had also done this, but with Levi, it wasn't quite the same - maybe it was him or maybe it was the circumstances and the chance of you getting caught by a teacher, but you felt extremely good, almost to the point you'd let it go further despite the way you were in a classroom.

"I'm aware." The raven droned from the crook of your neck where he'd been sucking on a second ago and you let out a sharp breath when his hand snuck under your shirt. His head lifted so he could face you again and his eyes were on your lips.

"Then stop." You kept playing the role of common sense even though this situation wasn't entirely all that dangerous. Levi's smoky hues were pinned to your own and you noticed they were more narrow than usual, like he didn't even want to waste energy on keeping them open but he just had to. For a second you thought the whole look on his face was something you didn't come across every day or even when you were alone. When he kissed you again it dawned on you why.

His lips pressed against yours felt soft and pleasant, his breath was made of tea and mint and it turned your mind hazy. You felt like half the blood in your body went to your face when his tongue invaded your mouth and his hands found your breasts over your bra. You felt the softness of his hair but were so out of it you were unable to open your eyes. Or do anything but kiss him. You couldn't recall feeling the same way during your make-out sessions with your previous boyfriends - this was a whole new sensation, a combination of thrill and something that made your face flush as your chest swelled with pleasant warmth.

"They won't do anything to us for this." He declared as if he made the rules and you had to blink a few times to come to your senses - your arms were thrown around his neck, your fingers were in his hair and your legs were wrapped around his waist - how long had this kiss been? He was looking down at you in the sexiest way possible and honestly, how could you possibly refuse that face?

"They can do a lot to us for what's about to follow." You worded warningly, knowing where things would go if you didn't resist even though a small part of you told you he'd never dare do it in school when it would be your first time together. You didn't listen to it, keeping in mind your all-time favourite motto that all men were pigs and they'd take advantage of any and every situation that provided it.

Levi didn't. He kept kissing you, left you breathless, gifted you a few hickeys to go home with and gave you a lot more of that sultry look that almost made your knees give out, but never provided you with legitimate proof of your motto's rightfulness and it was about at that moment when you were walking home afterwards when you realised---

If you hadn't been at school you would've certainly had sex and what was worse - you wouldn't have had anything against it had it been with him.

10. Calculating ice Thoughtfulness

"I don't approve of this relationship." You heard Levi take a breath from across the form of your father and his crossed arms.

"Dad, Levi isn't---" You tried to argue but were quickly shut up. It was seven in the morning. Thankfully, also a Saturday.

"Oh, he is! He invited you to that party and when you were so wasted you couldn't walk he could only think of how to park you in his bed! The next morning you call us with a hangover and this punk walks you here because apparently you've been together for almost about a year now but he still doesn't know where you live!" You frowned, not possessing enough bravery to speak against your father. Fortunately, you had your mother for that.

"James, calm down." She placed a hand on his shoulder as he grumbled in his armchair. You and Levi were seated on the couch, still in your pyjamas.

"I don't want to, Melissa! I don't like this boy and I don't want him around my daughter!" Even though it was a hiss directed at your mother, all occupants of the room including the aforementioned 'boy' managed to hear it. You looked over at Levi next to you, pondering whether you should grasp his hand or think up an excuse to let him leave before this became a full-on argument.

"Our daughter." Your mother's voice was firm and her eyes didn't dare leave your father's face to console you but you were too indulged in the look on Levi's face to notice it. Or in other words, the lack of a particular look on his face.

"If she's yours as much as she's mine then why aren't you worried about her as well?" Your father argued, making your frown deepen. The raven next to you had his elbows propped on his knees and his eyes staring at the carpet under his feet. His expression was devoid of any emotion - his face was perfectly relaxed with the exception of his furrowed eyebrows. His eyes were filled with thoughts you couldn't decipher, the usual grey now felt like frozen silver.

"I'm sure he means well, if they've been in a relationship for a year and this is the first mistake he's made, he can't possibly be bad influence." Your mother's voice was hushed but you heard it - Levi did, too. You placed a hand over the one he'd put on his knee. You could feel his finger tapping the fabric of his jeans as if he tried to tune everything else out and concentrate - he did that during tests at school.

"... I'm sorry, Levi." You whispered, bringing your face slightly closer to his. He didn't look at you. The ice in his eyes kept still, pinned to the floor. "Don't listen to him, I know just as much as you do we're both at fault." The regret was heard in your voice but the raven decided not to address it. He pursed his lips, then parted them.

"Maybe your father's right." His gaze was still on the floor. Still icy.

"He's not!" You raised your voice, briefly noting how your parents had stopped their own discussion and were now listening to yours. Your fingers slowly retracted from Levi's hand as he looked at you, face not changing in the least. You felt the gelidity in his eyes freeze the blood in your veins.

"Should we end this?" He questioned in a small voice - small but firm. Your reaction was immediate. Your expression hardened and you glared daggers his way, eyebrow twitching. You pursed your lips, forming a proper reply although a very big 'no' would work just as well.

"When it hasn't even started officially? I refuse." You spat, way more coldly than anticipated. Levi's eyes didn't soften, he was still considering this as a possibility. Your parents, however, were shocked. You grasped Levi's hand again, glare softening to a firm gaze instead. You attempted to make him change his mind - ten seconds were needed for you to succeed.

And afterwards, you swore, you didn't want to have to do it again.

11. Bright shine Love

"Your boyfriend's got quite the style." Hanji showed up during the break, linking her arm with yours and leading you down the hallway to your next class together. You raised an eyebrow at her statement, not so much as the person who was addressed in it - she'd started calling Levi 'your boyfriend' although he still hadn't confirmed your couple status. "Everybody's discussing it. The girls mostly." She whispered devilishly in your ear, smirking rather big.

Your brows knitted together in oblivion as you walked to your next class. It was a class you also had with Levi. You'd see what Hanji had meant in just a minute. Before that, you had to get into the classroom, though, and at the current moment, it proved a near-impossible task with all the girls in front of it.

Some had their arms linked like you and Hanji, others were pretending to walk around, third leaned on the walls and some just didn't put effort into being subtle - they were the ones standing at the very door and looking inside. Your face turned sour like you'd bitten into a lemon and you glanced at Hanji. Was this what she had meant? All the girls were discussing something, giggling inbetween phrases and shooting frantic glances at the door.

"Students coming through, I've a VIP package to deliver to the hot guy inside, you know!" Hanji called out loudly, making you choke on your own spit in embarrassment. Then, as the girls actually let you pass and stared at you in confusion, you made sure to metaphorically stab her with your glare a few times. She only chuckled, and then you were inside the classroom.

Levi was... quick to notice. He popped out amongst the rest inside, not so much because of the fact he looked good but because his no-white clothes policy had obviously taken over him completely as he'd been choosing today's attire this morning. He was wearing a black, long-sleeved button-up shirt, tucked into a pair of impeccably ironed black dress pants. The dress coat and shining shoes were touches that people noticed when looking further into it. And the glare he had on surely prevented most from doing it.

Hanji let go of your arm and pushed you in his direction, he was sitting at his desk, already having adjoined it with yours, and attempting to ignore the people around him. You walked forward, self-conscious because of the all-black dress you were wearing and how it would quickly draw attention. Had it been a coincidence for you to match colours?

"Good morning." You greeted once having taken a seat next to him. "You're the talk of school today as it seems." You tried making your voice nonchalant. The few gazes on your forms, dressed so similarly and sitting next to each other, was plain frustrating.

"And you're my VIP package." Levi stated boredly from the desk next to yours, looking up and into your eyes. He saw them widen as pink tinted your cheeks. You thought he wouldn't have been able to hear. "Hanji tends to be a bit louder than needed." He informed when you dared not address the topic yourself.

"I know. So, what's the occasion for your attire? Are you attempting another gothic phase?" You joked with a small smirk, eyeing his clothes from up close and admiring the way he managed to look good in all black. It made him seem a bit more grown-up, contrasting his porcelain skin yet matching the colour of his ebony locks. His eyes were a nice addition. If you didn't know him, you'd think he was a college graduate, not a senior in high school.

"The funeral's right after classes end right? I thought I'd come since you'll be representing your family all alone. You were telling Hanji on the phone you didn't know anyone there, so now you'll know me." His voice, indifferent yet soft, made your stomach take a warm turn before a giant grin pulled at the corners of your mouth. You covered it with your hand as Levi met your gaze and added: "You'll have to introduce me as your boyfriend, though."

Oh God. This was it. You knew Levi. You knew his expressions and his voice and his eyes. And they told you what you'd been waiting for - a confirmation.

"Sure, it won't be hard." You showed him your grin with a small shrug just as the teacher entered the room, having shooed away all the girls in the hallway. You quickly pulled out your notebook and the coursebook you shared with Levi for the second school year in a row, placing them in the middle of your desk. You opened your notebook and stared at the empty lines with a smile.

Hello, this is my boyfriend, Levi. You giggled as quietly as possible and Levi shot you a questioning look.

"Just practising." His features didn't soften but his eyes shone abnormally in your direction - they were tender and so bright it could've been blinding, but you found it mesmerizing. Your heart fluttered in your chest and you felt Levi's hand on top of your own. You bit back a smile. It wasn't a success.

God, how I love this boy. The realisation that followed wasn't even something that you minded. It just made you smile harder. Because somewhere along the bored lines and the bright gaze you could see he loved you just as much.

"So, what in the fucking hell are you reading?" Your boyfriend's question brings you back to reality and you blink at him for a few seconds before having collected your thoughts. You look back down at the notebook. The sentence is highlighted in neon yellow and it's giving you a weird feeling.

"Just... Psychology." You answer simply, contemplating the end and the beginning. From indifference to love. From glances to being together. From strangers to lovers. And now...?

"And it's funny because?" He questions and in return you snort condescendingly.

"Well, because it's so stupidly inaccurate tha---" You look up and the word dies at the back of your throat. He's looking at you with confusion, but under that, there's a silver layer of warmth that makes your heart skip a beat. You gulp and laugh in spite of yourself, he raises an eyebrow. "You know what? I don't even know anymore."

"Are you okay?" He gets a hand through his ebony locks and you watch, as always mesmerized by the little gestures he performs.

"Perfectly fine." You give him a small smile as he looks at you expectantly. He knows you want to say something, that something's prodding at your thoughts. Spill the beans, his gaze tells. And you do. "Have I told you I love you?" You blurt out, borderline nervously. You feel weird but it's not because of him, it's because of the realisation that has dawned on you.

"Just yesterday actually." He informs casually and picks up his cup of tea. Only a tea-lover like him drinks it during the summer. Or a psychopath - it is yet to be decided. You eye him for a few seconds but pause right before responding.

"... good." You say with a soft smile. He meets your gaze and he's still clueless but somehow he's seen something that makes him utter a simple 'stupid' under his breath as he rolls his eyes. You say nothing in return to the subtle insult.

"So, are you going to next week's exam or sleeping?"

"The latter sounds tempting." You respond, making him snort.

"Of course it does."

"You?" You question back and his gaze meets yours, you feel the air of superiority around him and already know what he'll say.

"Yeah, and if I pass I have to wait for the winter exams." He explains boredly, twirling your pen in his hold as you close up your old Psychology notebook.

"Cool. I have to take it and two others. Then I can get some rest." You sigh longingly and he glares.

"And work done."

"Oh, don't bring it up." You roll your eyes and your shoulders sag in despair. Your boyfriend is not one to obey orders, he's usually the one to give them. His imperative gaze settles on your pleading one and he opens his mouth.

"You were the one who told me to start working on a fucking book. Better work on your own stupid paintings." He commands, making you groan in exasperation. If it wasn't for you he wouldn't be halfway done with his brick of a suspense novel, but if it wasn't for him you wouldn't be past your first painting. And you wouldn't have found a buyer for it. But now you have to do more paintings and you just can't figure out your muse. You've little to no motivation and the exams are stressing you out while your boyfriend sips on his tea and has the audacity to tell you to get your ass moving.

"Fine." You groan with finality, admitting your loss. "Sometimes I really hate your perfectionist ass, Levi."

"And sometimes I really hate your slothful ass, but opposites attract. That's what Hanji says right?" His grey hues glisten mockingly and you smirk.

"Often when you're mentioned, yes." You confirm, smug look melting into an affectionate expression as Levi grasps your hand and interlocks your fingers. "It's a little hot for that." You inform and when he starts to let go, you grab onto his fingers tightly and smile. "I never said you should let go." The pointed phrase meets only a huff as your boyfriend sips from his tea.

You meet his gaze and try to remember a time when you haven't been mesmerised by his eyes. There isn't such a moment. You become aware of the look he's giving you, your smile grows and your eyes soften. Three years later and he hasn't changed a bit. You catch yourself returning the affectionate gaze as a conclusion settles into your mind.

There is very little that can make you change your opinion on the matter of this stupid eye to soul connection.

Very little but it's there - efficient and determined.

And his name is Levi.

#levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #reader insert #levi ackerman fanfiction #so basically levi has very expressive eyes and i love doing romantic studies on them #also highschool aus are my secret kink #they're just too fun to write lol #fluff?#a little bit of steam #i also love portraying the gradation of relationships soooooo #i hope you like it because it's 10k words lol #also sorry for any mistakes #i am a crackhead and i HATE editing

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