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ectonurites · 3 years

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idk how to quote tags on mobile where is the conner kent essay i NEED it

ALRIGHT OKAY! here’s 5k+ words plus panels & screenshots of me comparing and contrasting the two drastically different versions of Superboy (comics vs young justice cartoon) and going over what makes them such distinctly separate characters. someday i’ll refine this a bit more its kinda just a word dump that’s been living in my brain that i wanted to actually articulate after i read through Reign of the Supermen but here we go:

Pretty frequently I see the question “Why is Superboy so different in the Young Justice cartoon?” float around in DC circles. I think there are two main approaches to answering this:

Why did the writers of the cartoon decide to create a very different version of Superboy?

What factors make this Superboy so different from the comic version?

For the first approach the answer is relatively straight-forward, from the start Young Justice as a cartoon was never meant to be a direct adaptation of the comics. They just used the title and a few elements so they could create their own approach to the DC universe with a focus on younger heroes. For example, Artemis Crock in their show is also COMPLETELY different from her comic counterpart, Zatanna is aged way down to be a member of the teen team, and Kaldur’ahm was created for this show (and integrated into the comics as Jackson Hyde). They were always trying to do different things than the main comics universe, so them making a different version of Conner also makes sense. Their approach to him is also very clearly influenced more by how he appeared in the Teen Titans comic run that was still coming out as Young Justice started airing (his design, and some other elements we’ll discuss along the way), as opposed to his original version from the 90′s/the Young Justice comic.

So the basic “why” is that from the start they wanted to create something unique to their universe, which they definitely did accomplish.

The much more interesting subject to dive into, though, is looking at the differences in Superboy’s story that contribute to him becoming such a different person.

The drastic changes made to the following factors are what I view as the main source of his differences in personality/outlook/characterization:

The conditions and history of the world at the time he is introduced

The circumstances around him being introduced/leaving Cadmus

The reaction Clark has to him and how their relationship starts

The people he first interacted with & became close to, and how he interacts with the world

The timing of him finding out about his connection to Luthor

The State of the Worlds

In the comics, Superboy is first introduced in Adventures of Superman #500 by iconically saying “Don’t ever call me Superboy!”

during a 1993 event called “Reign of the Supermen”, a follow up to the 1992 event “The Death of Superman”. Based on the title of the 1992 event, I think you can, uh, guess what one major difference in the setting here was vs. the state of the world at the time he was introduced in the cartoon. Obviously Clark didn’t stay dead forever, but Superboy first comes onto the scene as a young clone of Superman who insists he is the new Superman (one of the four characters trying to do so during the event). This is in the main DC universe in the early 90’s, which means that heroes in general, including teen heroes, aren’t a new thing! Not only has the Justice League been around for a while but so has the Teen Titans. Once Clark is alive again, Superboy goes off on his own to establish himself as an individual teen hero.

So how is that different in the cartoon?

In the cartoon, Superboy is first introduced in the pilot episodes “Independence Day” and “Fireworks”

on the 4th of July in (what most people consider to be) 2010. This was supposed to be the day that Robin (Dick Grayson), Speedy (Roy Harper), Kid Flash (Wally West), and Aqualad (Kaldur’ahm) would get to see the true Justice League HQ at the Hall of Justice, which... doesn’t go exactly as planned.

In this world, superheroes are a newer thing, this is something that the creators have talked about before. At this point, while there is an established Justice League, there are no known teams of teen superheroes. Just the fact that as of season one Dick Grayson is still Robin is a pretty good indicator that this world is early in it’s time with a Batman. Now, the sidekicks aren’t a secret, as they appear very publicly in this first episode, but they are almost always seen acting with their mentors at this point. Again, there is no Teen Titans in this setting, and there never has been.

So when they do form the first teen hero team? It is kept covert-ops. They do not publicize that they act as a superhero team, and the members who weren’t already publicly known heroes (mainly Miss Martian and Superboy) end up being pretty… unknown to a lot of the world outside the hero/villain community! Again their existence is not strictly kept a secret, but they keep the fact that there’s a team of minors who are heroes going on independent missions VERY under the radar on purpose. Thus, those who aren’t going around doing super public hero activities just don’t have nearly as much of a presence.

So to summarize:

In the comics, Superboy is immediately put in a spotlight (he befriends a reporter and is all over tv and literally trademarks the name Superman) becoming known to the world and establishes himself as a solo acting hero YEARS before joining any teams.

In the cartoon, Superboy is kept relatively out of the spotlight, immediately becomes part of a covert-ops team and doesn’t act solo very often. The well known teen heroes in this setting are sidekicks working under a mentor, and Superboy does not actually act as a sidekick.

What does this mean for Superboy?

Superboy in the comics gets to, right away, act on his own and get a taste of what being Superman is like. In the cartoon, he’s brought into the world at a time where there already is a Superman. I think back to this bit from the therapy episode, where he says:

“See, from the moment I first opened my eyes in that Cadmus pod, there’s been one thing I’ve wanted, and feared. To know what it is to be Superman.”

Comics Superboy started out getting to do that! He immediately got a shot at filling that role, and he then makes the choice to relinquish it back to the original once he’s alive again. He (begrudgingly at first) understood that it wasn’t yet his time to be Superman, and knows he’ll someday fill those shoes for real- but in the meantime being Superboy is gonna be his own thing and he’ll embrace it and make it work.

Cartoon Superboy is left in a shadow, not ever truly knowing what it’s like to fill those shoes (except in a doomsday scenario training exercise gone awry that he then just feels intense guilt over). This leaves him a lot more frustrated and lost, and I think is a major contributor to how angry this version of Superboy is compared to his much more ‘chill go with the flow’ attitude in the comics.

Cadmus

In the comics, in that same issue he’s introduced, we find out that Superboy broke out of his cloning tube prematurely and left Cadmus with the assistance of the second Newsboy Legion, who also gave him his first leather jacket, before the programming that would allow Cadmus to control him was implemented.

He quickly gets up to speed with the situation, that Clark is dead. So he comes on the scene starting to save people and saying he is Superman, or at least the clone of the original one. A major thing that does influence his character here is the fact that… this is the 90’s. He is designed around the idea of what is ‘cool’ back in 1993. (look, even his original character design sheets call him cool)

So right off the bat he’s got a stereotypical ‘cool teen guy in that era’ personality, which is often played for comedy to add a little lightness to some of the dark things happening during this event.

Anyways, he has left Cadmus, he’s acting on his own, and he starts realizing that his powers aren’t exactly the same as Superman’s over the course of the Reign of the Supermen story.

After the main conflict is settled and Clark is fully alive and acting as Superman again, the two of them end up going back to Cadmus to find out what the exact deal is with him. I’ll go into this more in a later point, but they find out he’s not exactly a clone of Superman (or Lex- him being actually involved as a DNA donor is a retcon that happened a decade later). They agree to let someone from Cadmus (Dubbilex- the grey guy with the horns in this pic) leave Metropolis with him, as he sets out on a press tour to establish himself as Superboy now that he relinquished the trademark on the Superman name back to Clark.

Let’s pause and look at how this is different in the cartoon.

In the cartoon, when the trio of Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad decide to prove themselves to their mentors they run off on their own to attend to a fire at Project Cadmus when the Justice League got called off to do something else. Upon arriving, they accidentally uncover some weird things about Cadmus, like the crazy amount of sublevels, the creatures roaming around, and the fact that it’s not on the main power grids. They eventually find Superboy, still in his cloning tube. They break him out, but then get captured themselves.

When they are then put into tubes by Cadmus personnel, they manage to convince Superboy to help free them by promising him things like getting to meet Superman, and see the moon. The group of four now working together manages to escape from the building and it topples down, where they are then greeted by the Justice League who are Not Happy.

Superman flies away shortly after, and the group of kids explain to their remaining mentors that sure, they disobeyed orders, but they accomplished something good here, and they are going to keep doing it, whether the League likes it or not. The compromise is the formation of The Team, to be covert-ops while the Justice League acts publicly, and the boys are joined by Miss Martian.

So to summarize:

In the comics, Superboy leaves Cadmus pretty independently (with some assistance) to go act on his own as a hero immediately. He returns to Cadmus later for more information, and they reveal truths to him about his existence. After he knows his truth, he goes off to continue establishing himself as a solo hero but lets Cadmus still supervise what he’s doing through Dubbilex.

In the cartoon, Superboy is rescued from Cadmus by Robin, Kid Flash, and Aqualad, without knowing pretty much anything about himself besides the fact that he is a clone of Superman, and is immediately put on the covert ops team.

What it means for Superboy:

Comic Superboy goes to act on his own, even after he admits he’s not the real Superman anymore. Yes he’s not 100% alone in terms of ‘he’s got people (Rex, Roxy, Dubbilex, Tana) around him’, but as a hero he’s a solo act and ends up taking residence in Hawaii. In the cartoon, by joining a team right away, he’s taking on a very different style of being a hero, especially because the team itself is covert-ops. Rather than regularly saving the day all on his own much like Superman, which can help comic Superboy feel like he’s still living up to the name more, cartoon Superboy is working under the radar in a group setting, while still wanting to desperately fill those Superman shoes.

He is overconfident in his abilities and wants to be the hero he was created to be, so him being put into this very different type of superhero situation is another major contributor to the frustration/anger. Even later on when comics Superboy is part of forming the Young Justice team, they were never a secret covert-ops team, they were always publicly known. (hell, a reporter is the one who gave them the team name Young Justice because he’d misheard Bart)

Superboy & Superman

In the comics, as we have established, Clark was dead at the time Superboy first came on the hero scene. Clark comes back to life, during a little bit of a lull in the middle of the huge conflict. He immediately accepts that Superboy is one of four who came forward to try to replace him, and one of the only two (Superboy & Steel) who genuinely only had good intentions in doing so. Clark, Steel, Supergirl, Hal Jordan, and Superboy then all work together in the big battle against the Cyborg Superman.

Once things are settled, Clark is curious about him, and where he came from and his origin, so they end up going to Cadmus together with Guardian and learning more about him, as I previously mentioned. Once it is established that Superboy is in fact a metahuman clone who was created to mimic Superman, but is not actually a clone of him, Superman still accepts him and thinks he’s earned his right to continue using the ’S’ shield and have the name of Superboy.

They part ways so Superboy can go on his press tour, but in general they have pretty positive interactions where they mutually respect each other! Not too much later in the comics even (I forget exaaactly when this happens but it’s definitely before the 1998 Young justice comic), Superman is the first one to give Superboy a real name, “Kon-El”, something he is so happy about he literally cries.

How is this different in the cartoon?

When the boys first escaped, and Superboy first meets the Justice League, Clark is standoffish. Other members of the league need to nudge him over to go actually talk to Superboy, and it’s not much of a conversation before he flies off and away, leaving Superboy frustrated and alone.

This… turns into the standard for almost the entire first season. Other characters constantly telling Clark that he needs to reach out and be support for the boy (like in this iconic diner scene with Bruce and Clark), but Clark consistently being too freaked out by the fact that someone made a clone of him without his knowledge to properly accept Conner. While this does over time get better, this being the immediate reaction when Superboy is brand new in the world definitely… has an impact!

He is rejected by the person he idolizes, and feels neglected and abandoned, and definitely kinda overcompensates with ego to try to make up for it.

So:

In the comics, Superman and Superboy work together from the start, not falling into a hero/sidekick situation but rather acknowledging each other as individual heroes with respect for one another. They grow to see each other as family much faster, and little tension between them. A crucial difference in situations, though, is that at the time these versions first meet Superboy is not actually a clone of Superman.

In the cartoon, Superman at first avoids Superboy, and does not offer guidance or mentorship or anything the boy needs. It is clear that he wants to work with Superman and be like him, since it was what he was created to do. It takes a lot of time for Clark to accept Conner in this setting, and there is a lot of tension for the first several months Conner exists. (they seem to settle this towards the end of season 1/during the gap between season 2, but it still has it’s impact on who Conner is early in his life)

What does this mean?

I feel like this is another major factor that contributes to Conner being so angry all the time in the cartoon, he feels immediately rejected by the person he’s supposed to be someday, rather than accepted by him. Again, very different from how comics Superboy got a chance to be Superman, and a chance to then work with the real deal as equals.

Friendships, Relationships and Identity

When Superboy is freed by the second Newsboy Legion, it’s primarily out of a ‘we’re clones who are stuck here, but you need to be out there, you’re what Metropolis needs right now!’ kind of idea. The first person he actually becomes close to is a reporter named Tana Moon.

Tana and Superboy’s relationship is… bad once it actually becomes romantic due to their huge age difference (she’s around 23, he is for all intents and purposes 16), but during the Reign of the Supermen where they’re still just friends for the most part, it’s not as bad. Tana becomes the GBS correspondent who focuses on everything Superboy (at this time still insisting he is the new Superman) is doing as a hero, and they become close friends.

GBS then also brings in Rex Leech (and his daughter Roxy) to be his agent, to promote Superboy and manage things for him. Rex is exploitative as hell, but Roxy does become another really important person to Superboy. These characters along with Dubbilex are his main supporting cast at the start of his solo comic when he’s in Hawaii.

In this whole era, Superboy is pretty much a celebrity. He’s cool, he’s a superhero, and I think it’s very notable he does not have a secret Identity. For a decent chunk of time, he is always just ‘Superboy’ (until, as I mentioned earlier, Clark gives him the name Kon-El. Even so, he doesn’t adopt a regular secret identity [Conner Kent, although he actually used a different one, Carl Grummett, before that!] until he begins living with the Kents in the early 2000s). By the time he joins any teams, Kon is pretty damn confident in who he is as a hero and has a relatively good grasp on who he is in general, if anything he’s a little too confident.

Young Justice was created in the aftermath of World Without Grown Ups when the trio of Superboy, Robin (Tim Drake) and Impulse (Bart Allen) had teamed up. After they saved the day they realized they worked well together and formed their team, utilizing the old Justice League base in Mount Justice. They were eventually joined by more members, especially relevant here is Wonder Girl (Cassie Sandsmark) who Kon later dates for a portion of the Teen Titans run that these four are in after Young Justice ends.

The four of them become close, and when Kon dies during Infinite Crisis it rips a hole in everything they had established growing up together over the past several years (Cassie joins a cult dedicated to bringing him back, Tim tries to clone a new Kon, Bart got aged up and took on the mantle of the Flash, etc) and Bart’s death that followed similarly shook the remaining Cassie and Tim. This group eventually does get to reunite, with Kon and Bart coming back during Final Crisis, solidifying how even things like death don’t keep them apart for long. It’s hard to look at the comic book versions of these four characters and imagine how they would be without their connections to each other... until you look at the YJ cartoon and see a world where they’re not even all part of the same generation, let alone a friend group.

Now in the cartoon…

The first people Conner primarily interacts with are Dick, Wally, Kaldur, and M’gann, along with the League members who interact with The Team pretty regularly, Red Tornado, Batman, and Black Canary. He’s shown to be friends with the other memebers of the team and get along with them relatively well, but in general he’s not much of a social person.

Much like in the comics, Superboy is considered very attractive, and immediately upon their meeting, M’gann is interested in him. Very, very interested in him.

At first it definitely does seem more just like an innocent crush, but it’s later revealed to be a little more… concerning than that. As in ‘Megan subtlety influencing Superboy to become her dream boyfriend based on a TV show she likes’ concerning. Like… she literally gives him the name ‘Conner’ after the TV show character that was the boyfriend of the character she bases her human self and entire identity on. The two date and once that becomes a thing, a lot of their plot lines in the following seasons revolve around the ups and downs of their relationship.

In general in this show, Superboy doesn’t really get much of a chance to establish himself on his own terms. Within months of him leaving his cloning pod, he and M’gann start going to high school with secret identities, so he’s already having to hide who he truly is to blend in with other people, before he even knows who he truly is.

So to compare:

In the comics, Superboy gets to figure out who he is as Superman’s Clone/Superboy very publicly, has multiple love interests and a celebrity status, and over time becomes part of a tight-knit group of friends. He doesn’t use a regular secret identity for the first several years he’s active.

In the cartoon, Superboy has one love interest with a very large impact on him, not nearly as much focus is given to his other friendships, and he immediately adopts a secret identity meaning he needs to hide who he is from the start.

What it means:

These factors play a big difference in his attitude, particularly highlighting how extroverted his comic version is and how introverted his cartoon version is. Comic Superboy never really needed to hide who he was until years into his career, vs being told to do so early on in his life. When you get used to needing to hide things so early, that can definitely lead to being more private/disconnected from others. Also somewhat related- in the comics, when Kon is given knowledge in his cloning tube, more pop culture got included. He mentions knowing Star Wars without having seen it, and references a ton of TV and Movies, vs the cartoon version of him that seems to have been given a lot of history of the world but not the current fun stuff. It’s the difference between knowing what’s going on in the world and what’s popular, vs only knowing the past and what’s fundamental. Not knowing pop culture like this can also really contribute to feeling alienated and lead to introversion. (I just... I think about how in the comics Kon’s favorite TV show is Wendy The Werewolf Stalker, in the cartoon Conner just... watches white noise static)

Also, having a completely different set of friends with different personalities has a big effect, people are always gonna be influenced by the people they’re close to to some extent. Bumping Conner up to Dick’s generation of heroes instead of Tim’s not only gives him completely different friends, but it also puts him in this position of being one of the ‘Original Team Members’. By this I mean, a member of the first iteration of the only teen team, one of the people that younger heroes coming onto the scene and joining the team in later seasons see as an experienced and older team member to look up to (despite the fact that cartoon Conner is permanently 16- they never fixed that for him like in the comics). That just creates a different dynamic entirely, because in the comics even when the Tim/Kon/Cassie/Bart group are more experienced on their team late in the Teen Titans run, they are still always going to have heroes like Dick Grayson, Donna Troy, Wally West etc as the older generation of ‘original teen heroes’ who came before them.

Also, while I am talking mostly about in-universe reasoning here, I do wanna bring up one slightly more meta reason that might also have contributed to them choosing to go for a more ‘introverted brooding hero’ characterization with him: the fact that their version of Wally already filled the ‘flirty jokey’ archetype original Comics Kon fits into. Having two characters like that in the show from the start would definitely get... overwhelming. And at the time this show was first airing, in the comics, he was relatively devoted to Cassie and not nearly as flirty anymore anyways.

Lex Luthor / Details of Cloning

In the comics, as I have already mentioned and will now actually explain, when Superboy was first introduced he was not the clone of Superman and Lex Luthor as we know him to be today. Kon was a metahuman clone, made with the DNA of Paul Westfield who worked at Cadmus, that they genetically altered to look like Superman, and gave powers based on the energy aura they discovered to exist around Clark’s dead body. This telekinetic field gave Kon the distinct powers he had for his first decade of existence: His Tactile Telekinesis (often referred to by him as TTK)

Lex Luthor was originally not directly involved in his creation, but he was aware that it was going on as is revealed during the Reign of the Supermen arc. Kon’s TTK allowed him to mimic Superman’s flight and strength, but not all of his powers. TTK also gave him powers Superman DOESN’T have, such as his ability to dismantle machinery or mold materials he is touching into different shapes. (The reason this is called Tactile Telekinesis is because there needs to be a tactile element, he needs to be touching the things)

It is not until 2003, a decade after Superboy was created, that writer Geoff Johns in his Teen Titans run decided to alter Superboy’s origin. He established that Lex Luthor had been the real human DNA donor and that Superman’s Kryptonian DNA was actually used in the cloning process. Around this time, Conner also begins to exhibit more of the typical Kryptonian powers, like Clark did around this age.

This information is at first only known by Conner and Tim, because the email had actually been sent to Tim directly. The two keep it a secret as Conner was not ready to tell the rest of the team, because he fears the implications it has, and is afraid of becoming evil or being rejected. This revelation about Lex being one of his ‘parents’ DNA-wise coming years into his hero career changes a lot of things for Conner, and makes him begin to question who he is. Unfortunately, Lex does at one point take control of Conner and force him to break Tim’s arm and attack Cassie directly (as well as the rest of the team, but these two specifically are what Conner expresses the most guilt over after the fact). This era of Conner in the comics is where he’s definitely closest to his cartoon counterpart, because he’s very troubled and dealing with a lot of heavy stuff regarding himself as a person. Yet there’s still traces of who he has always been in there. I mean, if you’re only familiar with cartoon Conner, can you really imagine his final words as he’s dying after saving the world being “Isn’t it cool?”

Now, looking at the cartoon…

Conner finds out about his connection to Lex in November, only a few months after having existed outside of a cloning tube. He finds it out on his own, from Lex speaking to him directly, after Conner went back to investigate the remains of Cadmus and ended up having a fight with Match (another clone who is able to pass for Conner’s duplicate who they… their version of Match is another thing they drastically changed from the comic version but as we’ve established that’s something they like to do so I’m not gonna dwell on it).

In the cartoon, Conner’s powerset is, from the start, different from both Superman and comic Superboy. Here he has heightened senses and strength and the ability to leap really far, but he lacks actual flight and some of the other standard Kryptonian powers, and has no TTK. The cartoon explains these gaps in his powers as being due to his half human DNA, and they introduce these patches that are able to suppress his human DNA and give him temporary access to full powers. Lex uses these patches as a way to manipulate him. Much like in the comics, Lex has a code word programmed into Conner that effects him, although it isn’t quite used for the same amount of ‘total mind control’, and he doesn’t get fully brainwashed and turn against the team or anything. Instead, the code word (here “Red Sun” rather than “Aut vincere, aut mori” [Translated as “to conquer or die" / "victory or death”]) just leaves him stuck in a hypnotic trance.

So:

In the comics, Kon finds out after years of believing he was a metahuman clone who was given powers to mimic Superman, that he is actually a clone of Lex Luthor and Superman, which alters his entire perspective on himself! This causes him to become a lot more unsure and anxious about who he is, in stark contrast with how confident he was before. There are still traces of his old self within him, but this is a development in his character that influences him moving forward, making him a bit more serious but still at his core the same person he used to be.

In the cartoon, Conner finds out after months of thinking he was a clone of just Superman, that he has half human DNA and the donor was Lex Luthor. While he always had confidence in his abilities, he was still somewhat lost as a person in knowing who he really was outside of things other people have assigned to him (teammate, boyfriend, superhero, etc), and finding out this information about himself just adds to the uncertainty and frustration.

What it means:

Having this struggle be something Conner has to deal with so early in his existence is one of the most fundamental changes in my opinion. Finding out that Lex Luthor is one of your clone parents is something that will alter your entire perception of yourself and who you are! In the comics, Conner had already been confident in who he was so it shakes his world in a really big way, but in the cartoon he still didn’t know who he really was so it just adds to further confusion.

I think that even with the more serious characterization Kon starts getting in the 2003 Teen TItans run, his history and past as the fun cool 90′s Metropolis Kid isn’t entirely forgotten, it’s still a part of who he is/was. Sure, maybe he’s sometimes even embarrassed by how he used to be, but it’s not treated as though it didn’t happen. All of his history comes together to create the character and who he is by the time he wears just a T shirt as a costume.

By skipping over the fun era of his life and jumping right into who he was when he started facing these huge changes, it creates such a completely different set of challenges for him and that contributes directly to how he’s characterized.

Putting it all together

The ultimate point I am trying to reach in all of this is that, beyond just ‘they made a writing choice to make him different’ the environment that Superboy was brought into and the events that took place right when he came into the world greatly influenced the type of character he would become. Every time an adaptation is made of something like comics, there are going to be changes and alterations to fit the world the creators want to make. Sometimes these changes are minor and don’t actually change who a character is (an example for the YJ cartoon’s universe itself: In the tie-in comics [issue 6] it’s established in this universe that the Flying Graysons weren’t just Dick and his parents, but other family members were active parts of it too. One was an uncle also named Richard, who actually survived the fall that killed the rest of his family but was left paralyzed and thus unable to care for him. This uncle already used the nickname ‘Rick’ which is likely why Dick ended up using ‘Dick’ as a name in a modern setting even though it has fallen out of popularity as a nickname because uh, connotations. This is something that is mostly unique to their world and helps to explain some things, but it’s not like tragically losing a few more family members changed their version of Dick and his backstory that drastically. At his core, he still has many similarities to his comic self) but they’re still changes, and that’s okay. Superboy, though, is such an extreme case where they made so many changes that at his core he really does become a completely separate character. Sure he has the name and design, but I was able to write five thousand words about differences here and am struggling to come up with more similarities beyond that.

I think there still could be specks of the original Superboy buried inside cartoon Conner, and that maybe he could have been more like his original version under other circumstances. Looking at these differences and where they come from is, I think, a cool way to begin to understand what elements contribute to who each version of Conner Kent really is. I think it’s clear from how I wrote this that I prefer the comic version, but there are definitely things that are fun to look at and think about with both.

if u read all of this UH thanks for listenin to me ramble! sorry if this is incomprehensibe!

#rainbowroadimpulse #sam writes #conner kent #superboy

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knuffled · 3 years

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Just Practice - Chapter 18

it’s finally over. here’s the last chapter. important notes at the end for those that are interested. thank you all so much for your support. it’s been a wild ride, and i’m glad i got to see it through to the end.

ao3 link

It was perhaps the first time that Annabeth had ever felt nervous standing in front of the Jackson residence. She shifted uneasily on her heels and wiped her palms on her jeans before knocking on the front door. Usually, she felt more at home here than anywhere else in the world, but she felt entitled to a little anxiety given the circumstances. Not long after, Sally opened the front door and showed her inside with a smile.

“Hi, honey. It’s been a while, huh?” Sally said.

Annabeth nodded and offered her a small smile. “Yeah. It has. Things have been pretty hectic lately.”

“Percy told me you were in the hospital for a while. Are you alright?” Sally said, closing the door behind her.

“Yeah, I just injured my leg at a meet,” Annabeth said.

“Oh no, what happened?” Sally asked, furrowing her brow.

“I, um, tore my ACL,” Annabeth mumbled. “It’s still recovering, but I can walk on my own now. It’ll be a while before I can start running again, though.”

“I am so sorry to hear that. I would have visited, but I’ve been out all month doing more of those goddamned book tours,” Sally huffed.

“Oh, it’s no problem,” Annabeth said. “I appreciate the thought though.”

There was a pause and Annabeth looked around the living room without meaning to. Sally gave her a smile and said, “If you’re looking for Percy, he’s upstairs in his room.”

Annabeth flushed and nodded. “Thanks. I’m gonna head on up then.”

“I’ll be taking Estelle out shopping, and Paul won’t be home until later today,” Sally informed her.

Annabeth blinked, somewhat confused. “Oh, alright. I’ll see you later then.”

“You should have plenty of time to yourselves,” Sally said, giving her a knowing look. “I’m guessing that you’ll need it judging by the sorry state that my son has been in the past few weeks.”

Annabeth’s face turned even redder and she nodded and made her way up to Percy’s room. She paused in front of his bedroom door and screwed her eyes and took a deep breath. Annabeth heard him in the shower, which diffused her nervousness before she stepped inside his room.

Percy’s bedroom hadn’t changed much, if at all, over the years. The room was sparsely decorated - almost nothing adorned the cream colored walls. There was still a full sized bed nestled against one corner of the room, draped with a fluffy blanket he hadn’t bothered to fold. Blue curtains framed a window overlooking the willow tree in his backyard, the one they used to climb when they were kids. On the other end of the room was an office chair, piled high with messy clothes, sitting in front of a well worn cherrywood desk. The desk was littered with stray homework papers, half-empty energy drinks, and a bobble head of some athlete Annabeth didn’t recognize.

Annabeth wandered over and looked at the four photos he had taped to the wall above the desk. One of them was with his mother at the beach in Montauk from back when he was a freshman. Another was one of the entire family at an amusement park. There was one with him and all of their friends sitting in front of a bonfire at Piper’s birthday party that past summer. And the final one was one of him with her, his hand thrown carelessly around her shoulder as she leaned into the crook of his neck, a contented smile on her face. The soft look on his face, like she had just hung the moon for him, brought a lump to her throat.

“Annabeth?”

Annabeth jumped back and turned to see Percy standing in the doorway, towel drying his hair. He was wearing an old swim team shirt from middle school and his penguin pajamas. The familiar scent of his body wash clung to his skin, unmasked by the cologne he usually wore. There was a careful expression on his face, like she had caught him unawares.

“H-Hey,” Annabeth said breathlessly.

“I, uh, wasn’t expecting you for another hour,” Percy said cautiously.

“Sorry,” Annabeth said, rocking on her heels. “Should I leave?”

“No, it’s fine,” Percy said quickly. “Why don’t you sit down?”

Annabeth nodded and sat on his bed. Percy rushed over to gather the clothes that had piled on top of the chair and hurriedly stuffed them in his closet. He hung the towel from his open window sill to dry and sat across from her in the office chair.

There was an uncharacteristically nervous look on his face, but it actually comforted Annabeth. She would have felt awkward if she was the only one feeling apprehensive.

“I, um, didn’t see you at school this week,” Annabeth said.

Percy rubbed the back of his neck. “Needed some time off. I haven’t been feeling very good.”

Guilt bubbled in the pit of Annabeth’s stomach. She knew that was her fault, but that he was too nice to tell her that.

She cleared her throat and said, “Sorry to hear that. Are you doing better now?”

Percy breathed a laugh and shrugged. “More or less.”

There was an awkward pause before Percy gestured to her leg. “How’s your knee?”

Annabeth glanced down at it and quickly looked back at him. “Oh, um, it’s fine. I had surgery done a few weeks back and it went well. I’ve started doing physical therapy now, but it’ll still be a while before I can start running again.”

“But you should make a full recovery, right?” Percy asked tentatively.

Annabeth nodded and stared down at her lap, playing with her fingers. “Yeah, the doctors said there shouldn’t be any issues since it was only a partial tear, but we won’t know for sure until I finish therapy.”

“That sounds like good news,” Percy said carefully.

Annabeth mustered a smile and said, “Yeah. About as good as I could hope for anyways.”

There was another brief pause and then Annabeth said, “I, um, also talked to the coach at Berkeley and told him about my injury.”

Percy’s leg bounced up and down. “And what did he say?”

“Well, he wasn’t happy about it,” Annabeth began. “But they’re not rescinding my scholarship.”

Percy made to move out of his seat and give her a hug, a grin splitting across his face, before he thought better of it and sat back down. A crushing sensation formed in the hollow of her chest as his grin waned into a sheepish smile.

“That’s wonderful, Annabeth,” Percy said softly. “I’m sure that’s a huge relief-”

“I’m sorry for how I acted at the hospital,” Annabeth blurted.

The smile slid off Percy’s face, but Annabeth powered through anyways. “You were only trying to help, and I lashed out at you for no good reason. That was awful of me, and I wanted to tell you how sorry I am for that.”

Percy nodded in a clipped manner and said, “Apology accepted.”

Annabeth was surprised that Percy hadn’t tried to downplay the whole thing by saying it wasn’t a big deal. A lump formed in her throat - her words must have cut deeper than she realized.

“It really hurt, hearing all that, but you had every right to say it,” Percy continued.

Annabeth shook her head and said, “No, I- I was just being cruel.”

He offered her a strained smile and shrugged helplessly. “You were still right though. About all of it. There’s no excuse for me not telling you about Kara, for hiding so much from you.”

Annabeth pursed her lips and resisted the urge to argue with him.

Percy hunched forward in his chair and ran his fingers through his hair violently. “I’ve been thinking about it non-stop, trying to figure out why I did that, but I still don’t really get it. I want to tell you, so badly, but there’s a part of me that just can’t. It’s really fucking frustrating and confusing.”

He paused and exhaled forcefully. “Honestly, the only thing it’s made me realize is how fucked up I am.”

The pain and bitterness in his voice tore up Annabeth inside. “That’s not true.”

“It is,” Percy said, shaking his head insistently. “I wish I could just show you somehow. Make you understand-”

“Percy, good person,” she stressed. “Maybe you can’t see it, but I can-”

“Well, you don’t actually know me,” Percy snapped.

Annabeth must have looked as devastated as she felt because Percy’s eyes immediately swelled with guilt and repentance.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that,” he said quietly.

“No, you’re right,” Annabeth admitted shakily. “I don’t really know you. I thought I did, but I was wrong.”

“That’s not your fault,” Percy insisted. “I’m just- it’s fucking impossible for me to ever let anyone actually see me.”

Then who have I been seeing this entire time?

The thought hung heavily in her mind but she forced herself to ignore it. Still, she found it hard not to let despair swallow her whole. She couldn’t help thinking about how Reyna had said that at a certain point, you had to accept that there was really nothing that you could do. She was clearly out of her depth here. Honestly, she stood a snowball’s chance in hell of actually saying something helpful.

She sat there in silence and watched the conflicted look on Percy’s face. His lips were pressed in a thin line and his eyes shone with focused intensity, like he was at a swim meet. If this was only going to cause him so much pain, she never should have told him she wanted to talk. At the same time, she couldn’t help feeling like she needed to do something for him. Whatever he was holding inside was clearly eating at him. She couldn’t just leave it alone and act like it wasn’t her problem. Percy never would have done so if their roles were reversed.

Percy surprised her by punching his leg in frustration and releasing a shuddering exhale before he looked at her and spoke.

“No- No matter what, I can’t help thinking this all points back to Gabe.”

Annabeth furrowed her brow. “Your step-father?”

Percy nodded and said, “I’ve been thinking about him a lot lately. It’s weird, but he’s wrapped up in all this. I just know it.”

Annabeth dug her fingernails into her palms. Percy never talked about Gabe, but Annabeth had more than an inkling of what he did - how some days Percy came to school with a sullen look, wincing when he sat down, and gingerly probed parts of his body when he thought nobody was watching; days when he hardly smiled or even said a word to her and she would wordlessly slide him her homework at lunch to copy.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Annabeth said.

Despite what Piper said about needing to press Percy, Annabeth knew there were some wounds that were better left untouched.

Percy balled his hands into fists and shook his head. “No, I have to. Otherwise, I’ll lose you for good.”

Annabeth’s heart squeezed in her chest, so she took his hands in hers and said, “Look Percy, I don’t want to pressure you into doing something you’re uncomfortable with. It’s fine if there are things you can’t talk about. You have nothing to prove to me. No matter what, you’re still my best friend, and you’re never going to lose me. Okay?”

“Really?” Percy asked quietly.

The way his voice sounded, raw and bleeding, made self-loathing fester in the pit of her stomach.

“Yes, really,” Annabeth said tersely. “I’m so sorry that I forced you into a corner like this. I was wrong about what I said at the hospital. I did something terrible to you.”

“Don’t say that, Annabeth,” Percy said tightly. “It’s not your fault. At all. You’ve been nothing but endlessly patient with me. I- I’m just not strong enough.”

Annabeth shook her head. “You’re the strongest person I know, but you don’t have to do this all on your own. There’s probably not a whole lot that I can do to help, but at least I can help share your burden and listen.”

Percy was quiet for a minute before he looked at her with a hard gaze. “Are you sure about this? It’s not a very fun story to listen to.”

“Yes,” Annabeth said immediately.

“If it ever gets to be too much, let me know,” Percy said sternly.

Annabeth took his hand in hers and squeezed it. “Don’t worry about me. I’m here for you.”

Percy exhaled forcefully and nodded before staring down at his lap. A minute or two passed before he was ready to speak again, and Annabeth could see conflict and pain swirl in his eyes like whirlpools of emotion.

“He was nice at the start, you know?” Percy said quietly. “He wasn’t all that bad the first few months after they got married. Sometimes he’d get me some candy on his way home from work. Teach me how to throw a baseball. Normal stuff like that. But then, at some point, things changed. Still can’t figure out why. Like, was he just hiding how awful he was the entire time or did something change in him? Guess it doesn’t matter now.”

He paused for a moment and said, “The first time I remember him hitting her, I was eight years old. He was really tearing into me about getting in trouble at school, telling me how much of a fuck up I was, how I was a stupid kid who couldn’t do anything right, and mom defended me.”

“At some point, he got so pissed he chucked a plate at my head and barely missed. It shattered on the wall and gave me this,” Percy said, tugging down his shirt sleeve to reveal the crescent shaped scar on his shoulder.

Annabeth traced the scar with trembling fingers and tried to stomach the nausea and rage she felt brewing inside her.

“Mom went ballistic after that, but that just pissed him off,” Percy said slowly. “Gabe hit her so hard her head hit the wall and started bleeding. You can still see the dent downstairs in the living room. Then, he grabbed me by the hair and forced me to look at her, crumpled on the floor. I can still remember the stink of cheap cigarettes on his breath and him whispering in my ear, ‘This is all your fault, kid.’”

“Christ,” Annabeth whispered.

“Yeah, I know right,” Percy said, smiling wryly. “And that’s just one story - I have hundreds of them. Like, remember how I forgot my field trip form to the zoo in 5th grade?”

When Annabeth nodded, Percy said, “Well, they had to send me home because there weren’t any teachers at school that day. Mom was at work, so Gabe had to pick me up. He was super pissed that I made him miss his poker game, so he was bitching at me the entire ride home. At some point, I snapped and told him to fuck off. Next thing I know, he punches me in the stomach so hard that I puked all over the floor of his Camaro. Of course, that only made him even angrier, so he beat the shit out of me and made me clean up the mess.”

Annabeth tried to keep her voice steady. “Tell me you told somebody.”

Percy smiled humorlessly and said, “And who would I tell? My mom? The woman working three jobs, married to an abusive piece of shit that hits her, with a kid who only ever seems to fuck up at school and embarrass her? No, she had enough on her plate as it was. I couldn’t add more.”

“Then the teachers-”

“Annabeth, you remember how it was for me in school. The teachers hated me,” Percy said bitterly. “To them, I was just a trouble-maker. How could I turn to them? And besides, even if I did, what good would it do? Gabe would just deny it and take it out on me or mom later.”

Percy leaned back in his chair and sighed. “Eventually, I just got used to it. He was smart about it too. Always made sure my mom wasn’t around and that the wounds wouldn’t show anywhere someone might see. And over time, it just become something normal, and I got used to never telling someone about it.”

He paused for a moment and clutched at the fabric of his shirt, over his stomach. “Even telling you right now is like physically painful for me. Like my stomach is in knots and every cell in my body is telling me to run. A part of me keeps whispering, no matter how much I try and ignore it, that I’m not allowed to ask for help, that I- that I deserve this because it’s my fault.”

Annabeth took a sharp inhale and bit her quivering lower lip to keep from crying. She had always known Percy had had a troubled life, but she had never expected that it would be this horrific. He was the best person that she knew and he deserved so much more than this. It was profoundly unfair and tragic and wrong and she didn’t know how to fix it or if it was even possible to fix it.

“None of that was your fault, Percy,” Annabeth said tersely. “He was a sick, twisted piece of shit, and you shouldn’t believe a single word that came out of his mouth.”

“I’ve been telling myself that for the past five years, Annabeth, but there’s some part of me that doesn’t believe it,” Percy said softly. “That fucked up shit he did and said to me is still there, rattling around in my head, and I can’t make it stop.”

He balled his hands into fists. “He sort of beat into me that I was responsible for everything. It was always my fault because I was a bad kid or a fuck up. And he was kind of right too. Mom was having such a hard time back then and I never made things easier for her either, always getting into trouble at school. I tried to be a good kid. I really did. It just wasn’t ever good enough. I just kept letting people down and that hasn’t ever stopped.”

Before Annabeth could interject, he looked at her and said, “You asked me at the hospital why I never told you about Kara. The truth is that I hate myself for being so shitty to her. Like, I drove her into a corner and made her feel so insecure and alone that I forced her into cheating on me. I should’ve been a better boyfriend to her-”

“Percy, what Kara did was her own decision,” Annabeth interrupted. “Maybe you could have done a better job, but you can’t force someone to cheat on you. Kara even admitted that it was her fault and said she wanted to apologize to you for it.”

He stared at her for a few beats and a myriad of conflicted emotions flashed in his eyes before he shrugged noncommittally and turned away. Annabeth ground her teeth together and moved off the bed before she even realized what she was doing. She framed his face with her hands and forced him to look into her eyes.

“Listen to me, you are a good person,” Annabeth said tightly.

Percy averted his gaze. “I’m really not, Annabeth. I’m just trying to make up for the fact that I’m- well, me.”

“And I’m telling that it’s okay not to be perfect! Because that’s the standard you’re holding yourself to! We all hurt and let each other down, Percy. That’s fucking normal!” Annabeth fumed.

“What’s the fucking point if nothing ever changes?” Percy shouted, his voice cracking. “I try and try and try, and I still keep hurting the people I care about, and I’m just- I’m so fucking sick of it, Annabeth.”

“People hurt each other all the time, Percy, sometimes just by existing! You’re looking at a prime fucking example of that,” Annabeth shouted, jabbing a thumb at herself.

“Like, how many times have I hurt you through my own carelessness? And yeah, it breaks my heart sometimes knowing how awful I’ve been to you, but I’m trying to be better because you’re the most important person in the world to me and I don’t want to lose you. And I learned that from you! Because isn’t that what you’ve always done? Tried to be better?” she demanded.

At this, Percy was silent, and Annabeth sat back on the bed, sighing. “That’s what actually matters, Percy: the fact that you’ve never stopped trying. You don’t always have to nail yourself to the cross anytime you fail.”

There was a pause before Percy quietly said, “I- I don’t know how not to.”

“Well, it starts by acknowledging that it’s okay to put yourself first sometimes,” Annabeth said, softening her voice. “Your mom once told me that you would rather put yourself in pain to ease someone else’s suffering, that you feel responsible for how others feel. Like, I know that Gabe was the one that taught you that, but that’s really fucking unhealthy. You need to see a professional therapist or counselor to help you process all the shit he put you through and teach you a better way to handle it.”

“And what if that doesn’t work? What if it’s too late to help me?” Percy asked.

“Then we’ll figure it out when the time comes,” Annabeth said, repeating what he had told her at the hospital.

“I’m not sure I’m worth all that effort,” Percy said tightly.

“Well, I’m your best friend and I think you’re the sweetest, kindest boy there ever was and that you’re worth the whole world,” Annabeth said.

She thought he would argue with her again, but she was surprised when Percy scrunched up his face and looked away from her, blinking back tears. He rubbed at his eyes with the back of his hand and nodded with a sniffle. Her heart welled up inside her chest and she felt a sense of fond exasperation rush through her, making her smile to herself.

Oh, you dumb, stupid boy.

“Thank you,” Percy mumbled.

Annabeth shook her head, even though he couldn’t see her. “There’s nothing to thank me for.”

It was a while before he looked at her again, and when he did, he looked up at her shyly through his stupidly long eyelashes.

“D-Did you mean what you said in the hospital?” he whispered.

“Hmm?”

Percy’s face turned a gentle shade of vermilion. “Um, about being in love with me?”

Annabeth’s face turned serious. “Yes. I should have chosen a better time, but I meant it. One hundred percent.”

“Oh.”

She couldn’t help the way her lips curled upwards. “That’s all you have to say to me? ‘Oh’?”

Percy’s face turned even redder. “Um, I’ve been dreaming about this moment for like seven years, so you’ll have to forgive me for the fact that my brain is kind of fried right now.”

Annabeth raised an eyebrow and tried not to look smug. “Seven years, huh? That is a long time to hold your peace.”

“In my defense, you always hated it when people said anything about us dating, so I tried to kill off that part of myself and fully commit to just being friends,” Percy said.

“I’m sorry about that,” Annabeth said seriously. “I must have hurt you a lot.”

“It was painful,” Percy admitted. “But I was happy enough staying by your side.”

“The whole fake dating thing was super tone deaf then on my part, huh?” Annabeth said quietly.

“I should have refused, but I couldn’t help myself,” Percy said, grimacing. “I wanted to pretend, even if it was just for a little while, that you actually liked me back. It was a pretty bad idea, but I even tried dropping a bunch of hints since I couldn’t tell you how I felt, in the hopes that it might change something, I don’t know.”

“Well, it wasn’t all bad,” Annabeth said. “It got me to realize a whole bunch of things. Without that whole fiasco, I don’t think we’d be where we are right now.”

Percy cleared his throat and said, “And where is that exactly?”

Annabeth sat up straighter and folded her hands on her lap. “Well, for starters, I’d like to start dating you. For real this time.”

“Are you sure?” Percy asked, furrowing his brow. “We’ll have to be long distance once the fall rolls around.”

“I’m sure,” Annabeth said firmly. “Besides, we’ll be in the same state.”

“Would be nice if we were closer instead of on opposite ends,” Percy said, sighing.

Annabeth shrugged and said, “It’s a five hour and forty-two minute drive, so not all bad.”

“And you know that off the top of your head?” Percy asked, grinning.

“I, um, checked on Google maps.”

Percy gave her a smarmy look and raised an eyebrow. “Hmm, so you came here today planning expecting to ask me out, huh?”

Annabeth shoved him and bit back a smile. “I checked back in December, you jerk.”

Percy made a show of wincing and said, “Alright, alright, take it easy.”

There was a pause before Annabeth folded her arms over her chest and said, “You still haven’t properly answered me, by the way.”

“I thought it went without saying that I would say yes,” Percy said, blinking.

Annabeth’s face turned a little pink. “I- I still want to hear you say it.”

Percy ducked his chin for a moment and looked at her shyly. “Yes, I would love to go out with you.”

Her heart beat a little faster in her chest and exhilaration washed through her. “Nice.”

Percy blinked for a moment and nodded sagaciously. “Yes, nice.”

Annabeth shoved him again and ended up tackling him off his chair and fell on the floor with him. He wrapped an arm around her and laughed, and the sound reverberated through his skin and warmed her right through her bones. They lay like that for a while, tangled in each other, while he played with her hair.

Eventually, she looked up at him and cleared her throat. “So what happens next?”

Percy raised an eyebrow. “Why are you asking me?”

“You’re the one with all the dating experience,” Annabeth protested hotly.

Percy tried for a shrug and said, “Beats me. We could go get some celebratory shakes at Martha’s maybe?”

When Annabeth was quiet, he looked down at her and said, “Did you have something else in mind?”

“Well, um, if you were open to it, I would like to kiss you now,” Annabeth mumbled.

A beat passed before Percy bit back an enormous grin. “Sounds agreeable to me.”

“Don’t make me deck you again,” Annabeth warned.

“Alright, you absolute terror.”

“Dullard.”

“Always so mean, Chase.”

“Shut up, Jackson.”

“Are we gonna kiss or what?”

“You’re supposed to be the one leading, dumbass. I’ve never done this before, remember?”

“Okay well, for starters, don’t bash your nose into mine like that.”

“Oh my god, I actually hate you.”

“What you have a problem with the way I’m ‘leading’?”

“Just shut up and kiss me, you idiot.”

“Alright, no need to get so testy.”

....

“Okay?”

“U-Um, yeah. Could we, uh, do it again? You know, just for practice?”

“Sure. Just for practice.”

“You’re insufferable.”

“Just so you know: it’s too late for take backs.”

“Too late?”

“Yeah, way too late.”

....

“I love you.”

“I know. Now, can we go back to the kissing, please?”

....

“You’re not gonna break my heart, are you, Annabeth Chase?”

“I won’t.”

....

“And I love you too.”

#percabeth fic #percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth fake dating au #fake dating au

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like-rain-or-confetti · 3 years

Text

Request: Rescued (Demetri Volturi x Reader)

You let out a scream, but the collision never came. You watched in horror as Demetri Volturi of all people had a tight grip on the newborn vampire and with impossible speed, he and Felix ripped the vampire apart.

The two Volturi guards slowly turned to you. Felix and Demetri looked at each other briefly before Demetri approached. You inhaled sharply, trembling in fear as you anticipated that you were next. He crouched down to your level. "You're safe."

He'd never actually spoken to you before. He'd only ever stare at you when in his presence.

After the battle with the Newborn army, you were more than ready for bed. You had just came back into your room after brushing your teeth, taking off your hoodie before gasping in fright.

There, sitting on the bottom of your bed, was Demetri Volturi. He was quiet at first, seemingly in thought before breaking the silence. "You feel it too." Demetri said simply. You knew almost immediately that he was talking about the pull. The longing you had to be around him. "You feel it?" You asked quietly. Demetri slowly nodded with a grim expression. "I want to understand this but I can't with everyone surrounding us." "You and the others...killed that girl." You began quietly, listening to your voice of reason. "She lived longer than she should have." Demetri answered. "Am I supposed to believe that I won't meet the same fate?" You asked. Demetri sighed. "I'm not here to the play this game with you. I'm not here as a Volturi guard and I know for a fact that you are not as loyal to the Cullen's as you'd have us believe. You and I have to be seen a certain way, play a role and this bond doesn't care for that. So I suggest we figure it out together and cast those roles aside." Demetri swallowed, his voice lowering again. "So do you want to continue roleplaying or come to bed?" You were alarmed by the question, that was exceptionally forward, especially considering the little time you had known each other. You stammered. "As in-?" "Was that not what you were about to do? Go to bed?" You exhaled. "So you're not asking to..." You trailed off. After a moment, Demetri seemed to catch on, a slight smirk growing on his face. "There will be plenty of time for that in the future, love." The smirk vanished. "I just want to be near you, try to understand this." After a moment, you agreed.

One thing was clear, Demetri wasn't entirely good at being open with humans. Then again, you didn't imagine he had much time for humans unless flirting. It was clear, Demetri didn't want to do that with you. He wanted to get to know you and this was the way he decided to do it.

You moved passed him, climbing into your bed. After a moment of watching you. He followed suit. You felt the bed dip as you moved to give him room. The two of you were silent. You felt his arm graze your back and you immediately turned to face him. Like clockwork, you both moved closer to each other and you curled into him. You expected it to feel awkward, cuddling into a stranger, a dangerous one at that. However it wasn't. In fact it felt like you had been waiting for that moment. "Did you know?" You asked quietly. "In Italy? Did you know?" "I had my suspicions." He responded quietly. "I have so many questions. I want to know more about you." You admitted. "I know." Demetri replied. "As do I. However, there will be time for that. Next time. The next time we get peace like this, I'll answer your questions."

As time passed, you were almost inseparable. Whilst your bond only grew stronger, so did the challenges. Such as when Bella fell pregnant. Things weren't supposed to go this way. You were at a loss of what to do. You couldn't tell your father what was happening to his daughter. Reality sank in that one day you'd have to look your father in the eyes and tell him Bella had died knowing full well that she was still around. You hated the situation but it only got worse.

Whilst that was going on, Irina discovered Renesmee and thought her to be an immortal child. She fled before anyone could explain. Seeing there was a law against immortal children, she ran to the Volturi. You hadn't breathed a word to Demetri about any of it. You never got the chance to. The silence on his end was terrifying. Weeks going by with no contact. Soon enough, you wanted to distract yourself. Usually Alice would be a great help in this but she and Jasper had gone, leaving only a note.

As you were heading back home, your eyes connected with a familiar blonde's red ones. Demetri gestured for you to come with him before he led you through the trees. "Were you ever going to tell me? What they did?" "Demetri, it wasn't-" "Were you?" "I-" "Were you ever going to tell me about that child!? I highly doubt you didn't know about it." Demetri pressed. "I did but she was wrong!" You blurted out. "The child isn't immortal!" Demetri immediately sighed in frustration. "Is that what they're telling you? At least it will save you- that works." "They aren't telling me anything, I've seen it!" "You don't understand how serious this is. Children can't keep secrets!" Demetri said louder. You paused, biting your lip swallowing back the lump in your throat. "What works?" You asked quietly. Demetri looked at you, void of emotion whilst your emotions began to build. You continued. "After all this time, you didn't say a word to me. I've been here terrified and you didn't send as much as a letter or a call. I was frightened I would be dead, that you would be in trouble that my sister and her family would be in trouble- this whole time!" The more you told him, the closer you got to him, fighting back tears. Demetri grasped your elbows. "I couldn't because when I was angry and when I wasn't angry, I've been talking to Aro, Caius and Marcus. To make sure that at least you'd be safe in all of this. I convinced them you couldn't have possibly have understood, have known enough to ever piece it together. The only reason it worked was because you're my mate! If you were anyone else...you wouldn't get the chance." Demetri took a breath to calm himself. "If you would have told me, this would have been much more simple." Your lip quivered. "I-I try to keep up, I do but..." You shook your head. "I don't know enough about your kind to ever understand." "I know." Demetri said quietly. "That's what's going to save you, my love. I'm sorry, I am so sorry that you're in this position but I'm going to fix it. I just need you to trust me and I need you to be honest. Never ever out yourself in this situation again." Demetri pulled you closer to him, searching your eyes. "I know I went silent for some time and I'm sorry I left you worrying but it's alright now. I'm fixing it." Demetri cracked a small lighthearted smile. "Didn't you miss me?" Your mouth twisted, his attempt at cheering you up failing. However he continued to prod. "(Y/N), didn't you miss me?" His lips brushed against your own. "Even a little?" "Of course, I missed you." You breathed. You pulled back before he could kiss you and he tilted his head in confusion. Your eyes darted at every angle ad though making sure you were alone. "Are you reluctant to kiss me because you feel it's betraying them?" Demetri asked. You looked alarmed. That's exactly how you felt. "No-I-uh..." You stuttered, mind going blank with no excuses at all. "This is interesting." Demetri hummed, looking less than pleased. "It's really plaguing your mind isn't it? You don't know what to do. Be with me and you're betraying your sister or join your sister and betray me. You have no clue what to do." Your eyes fell to the forest floor, almost ashamed you could he read so easily. "Listen, if we're fine-" "Kiss me." Demetri interrupted. Your eyes darted up to his, wide in surprise. "Kiss me." Demetri repeated, moving closer to you. "We are completely alone. No one is watching and no one can hear us. It's only you and I here.Everything that has happened, everything that will happen- forget it. Just as I said, back when we first spoke. Take away our roles and it doesn't matter to us. So even for just the next five minutes, let's just forget everything. Be my (Y/N). No catch, no consequences, just us here and now. Kiss me, (Y/N)."

In an instant, you closed the gap, capturing his lips with your own. Demetri cradled your face as he kissed you back with just as much force. You broke the kiss, leaning your forehead against his. "If I do as you ask." You whispered. "If I trust you, completely give in to you and let you deal with this. Promise me, I won't regret it." Demetri kissed you again. "I'm going to fix this it'll be easier if you trust me. It's all I ask."

When the day arrived that the Volturi would come, it was bittersweet. To see Demetri again always tugged in your heart strings but under these circumstances, you couldn't be sure that was important. Aro and Carlisle were the first to speak and to your surprise. Aro got straight to business, starting with you. "Firstly, I'd say we should get the first issue dealt with." Aro said, his eyes falling on you. "(Y/N)...why dont you come with us?" Your eyes widened in surprise and after a moment of silence, Demetri stepped forward. "(Y/N)!" He called softly. "Come." He held out a hand. The pleading look he sent you made you aware that this was it.

This is what he meant. You realised that this was him fixing it. Carlisle's words rang in your mind. The Volturi often spared those they deemed innocent. All of those people ended up being in the guard. Due to their remarkable gifts. You didn't have one but what you did have, was the heart of his prized tracker and one of the higher guards. If he wanted to keep Demetri loyal to the Volturi, He'd have to bring you. Your heart beat faster in your chest realising you'd be the next. Although Demetri's words were the last thing you remembered. Him asking you to trust him and you did, you wanted to. You felt terrible as you moved forward. Bella sent you a pleading look and you didn't dare look at her. If you thought about it, or even cast a glance to her, you'd feel the guilt. Demetri was quick to take your hand and pull you tightly into his side. His arm pressing you against him. You realised he was taking a protective stance, ready for any attack.

When Renesmee and the Cullen's were proven innocent, only Irina taking the fall, did you realise what would happen. You looked to Demetri. "I can't go back, can I?" You said quietly. Demetri shook his head slightly with a slightly apologetic gaze. "I'm sorry. It was the only way." You felt tears build up and Demetri pulled you into him tighter. "Please stay with me. I can't lose you." You nodded, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I know. I know. It's okay." It wasn't. Your human life was cut short. You could never see your family ever again. Your sister would never want to see you again. Slowly, you turned your head to look at her. She met your gaze and to your surprise she nodded with a soft gaze. You couldn't believe it. Bella was encouraging you to go. She said nothing but you knew what she would say. She'd reassure you it was okay. You could go. Bella recognised how much you gave for her happiness with Edward and now it was time to repay the favour. Demetri also caught sight of this before lifting you into his arms. He couldn't help but smile as he began to walk away with many other guards, taking off with you in a blur.

#request #twilight #volturi #the volturi #reader #demetri volturi #oneshot #one shot

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whenisitenoughtrees · 4 years

Text

to be honest, capable (of holding you) (part 3/3)

He walks forward, crouching over the snake, and when it doesn’t stir at all, he works up his courage and pokes it, just a little. Its scales are warm and smooth under his fingertip, and he resists the urge to stroke them. He doubts he could get away with that.

“Janus?” he asks, trying to keep the somewhat hysterical laughter from his voice. “That you?”

Thomas didn’t know that Janus could turn into an actual snake, but he’s glad to hang out with him regardless. More than glad; ecstatic, even, because he’s been trying to figure out how to befriend him for ages, and this seems like a good first step. What he can’t figure out is why human-Janus is being so weird about it.

(Alternatively: Janus doesn’t trust easily. He wishes he could stop trusting Thomas— it would be so much less terrifying.)

Chapter Warnings: swearing

Chapter Word Count: 6,292

Pairing: platonic Thomceit

(part 1) (part 2)

(masterpost w/ ao3 links)

They still don’t talk about it. Thomas is beginning to suspect that this is causing a lot more problems than it solves. And by now, enough time has passed that it almost feels wrong to address it, any of it, feels like it’s too late, like he’s let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

So, he decides to try a different approach.

“Really?” Logan asks, raising an eyebrow. He appears entirely unimpressed, like a teacher about to explain for the millionth time that he’s not going to give out the answers to the homework.

“Yes, really,” Thomas says. “I just can’t figure him out, and I thought maybe you could help me with that.”

Logan sighs, taking a seat across from him at the dining table. He clasps his hands in front of him, folding his fingers delicately. “Very well,” he says, “if only because the matter will continue to distract you if you don’t resolve it sufficiently. Where would you like to begin?”

He frowns, tilting his chair back until the two front legs lift off the floor. “I don’t really know,” he says. “I guess I just want to know why he acts the way he does. ‘Cause he seems to have no problem approaching me as a snake, but he’s so standoffish as a human, and I can never figure out exactly what he wants from me, like, ever. He’s just… confusing, and I don’t know what to do about it, or how to talk to him.”

Logan inclines his head. “In that case, it may be prudent to reflect on how this conundrum began in the first place,” he prompts, and Thomas thinks on it, casts his mind back to that day, and the snake in the sunshine.

“That’s the first question,” he agrees. “He started coming up here for the sun, right? To be warm?”

“It is rather fascinating that he possesses so many traits of a creature that is truly cold-blooded,” Logan says. He leans forward. “It does seem to me that acquiring warmth was a primary motivation for him, at least at first. However, there is another question to be considered, which is that of why he felt the need to do so here, rather than anywhere in the mindscape. Though it is true that there are some circumstances in which it is difficult to find a simulation of sunlight, such as when the twins insist on rainy weather in the Imagination, it is by no means impossible, and he should have the capability to summon a heat source for himself. A heat lamp, for instance.”

“But instead he came up here,” he says slowly. “So, you’re saying he wanted to be here. That he wanted to be… what, near me?” The idea sounds preposterous, though all the evidence points to it being the correct conclusion. Because if Janus didn’t want to, he wouldn’t. It’s that simple.

Logan nods. “Remember, the first time he was faced with a lack of warmth both inside the mindscape and out, he immediately accepted your offer of sharing body heat. Somehow, I find it difficult to believe that he would have behaved in such a manner if no part of his motivation involved being close to you, in some way.”

“Okay, maybe,” he says. “But I still don’t get why he’s doing it like this. He always seems so embarrassed when I try to bring it up to him, like he doesn’t want to talk about it at all.”

“Oh, come on, Thomas,” Virgil says. “You can’t possibly be that oblivious.”

Thomas starts violently, a yelp escaping his throat. He nearly overbalances, nearly sends himself and the chair crashing to the floor, but he corrects himself in time, clutching at his chest as he wrests his heart rate back down to something approaching normal levels.

“Holy smokes, Virge,” he says. “A little warning, next time?”

From where he is perched on the chair between them, Virgil shrugs, looking vaguely apologetic.

“Ah, Virgil,” Logan says. “I was wondering when you were going to arrive.”

Virgil rolls his eyes. “Sorry I’m late,” he snipes, not sounding sorry at all. “I was just making sure that, you know, Janus wasn’t listening to you guys talking about him behind his back. You can’t honestly think he’d be happy that you guys are having this conversation, can you?” Thomas blinks, and Virgil must sense his sudden increase in nerves, because he shakes his head. “He’s busy with Remus right now, so you don’t actually have to worry about it yet, but a little bit of caution wouldn’t kill you.”

He sounds annoyed, but not overly angry, so Thomas relaxes a bit. “Right,” he says, “sorry, Virgil. Wasn’t really thinking about that.” He pauses. “I have been wondering where you’ve been, actually. I really thought that you’d, uh, have a little bit more to say about the whole letting-Janus-basically-cuddle-with-me thing. But you’ve been kinda quiet.”

Virgil exchanges a glance with Logan, shifting in place. “Yeah, uh, you’ve got Logan to thank for that,” he says. “Look, I don’t like the guy. I probably never will. But—” He pauses, hunching his shoulders— “even I’ve got to admit that he’s not gonna hurt you, so honestly? I have a lot more problems with the things he says and tries to get you to do than the, uh. Whatever the hell this has been.”

He gestures broadly, leaning back. Despite his typical disaffected tone, there is an odd gravity to his words, and Thomas knows that there’s something he isn’t saying. But he won’t press the issue; not yet anyway. Virgil is entitled to his secrets, and though he has long speculated on what, exactly, his relationship to Janus is and was, he is content to leave it alone for now.

“Fair enough,” he says. “So, what do you mean about me being oblivious?”

Virgil raises an eyebrow. “Really? You can’t figure it out?” he asks. “Janus is the embodiment of lies and deceit, Thomas. He’s the opposite of trustworthiness.” Thomas opens his mouth to interject, since he really doesn’t see how this is relevant, or even remotely helpful, but Virgil holds up a finger, forestalling him. “And I’m not just saying that in the context of him not being trustworthy. Which he’s not, by the way, just to make that clear.”

“Yeah, no, I know exactly where you stand on this,” he mutters, and Virgil glares at him. “Sorry, sorry, please continue.”

“All I’m trying to say is that he’s got some fucking trust issues, alright?” Virgil snaps. “He’s—” He breaks off, looking away and reddening slightly. He seems to struggle with himself briefly, his face twisting into some undefinable expression: a heavy reluctance, mixed with something Thomas can’t put a name to. “He’s kinda like me, in that way. You remember how long it took me to believe you when you started telling me you actually wanted me around?”

Guilt floods him, then, the memories of how he used to treat Virgil rushing back. These past couple of years have been good, so much so that he rarely thinks back on where they started. He knows Virgil so well that it is easy to forget that he feared him, once, pushed him down and tried to ignore him rather than working with him or trying to help him.

“Virgil—”

“No, listen.” His words come insistently, once again verging on frustration, so Thomas shuts up. “I’m not saying that to make you feel guilty, or whatever. We’re past that now. We’re good. And god knows I fucking hate comparing myself to him in literally any way. But what I’m trying to say is that being a, a ‘dark side’ or whatever you want to call them, it’s not exactly conducive to believing that you care, or that you value our opinions. So even though you’ve accepted him, and you’ve started actively listening to his contributions, he probably doesn’t trust you not to, like, reverse positions, or some shit like that.”

“But Thomas hasn’t shown any desire to do so,” Logan interjects, “nor any indication that his stance will change in the future.”

“Maybe,” Virgil returns, “but Janus is self-preservation, not logic. He likes to pretend that he’s all cool and confident and rational, but he’s not. So he’s gonna act out of self-defense, no matter how stupid a move that might be.”

“You’re saying he thinks I might hurt him,” Thomas says. A strange sort of horrified numbness settles into his chest at the very thought, because that is the last thing he wants. It has always been the last thing he wants. And now, so much time has passed, and they haven’t addressed it at all, and maybe it really is too late. Because Virgil is right; it only makes sense that Deceit himself would be hesitant to trust, and he’s not sure there’s anything he can say or do to convince him otherwise. If he doesn’t trust him at this point, who’s to say he’ll ever trust him at all?

Would he be right not to?

“I’m saying he’s scared you might hurt him,” Virgil says bluntly, breaking him from his thoughts, and that’s even worse. He finds it hard to picture Janus being scared, but Janus lies as easily as breathing. What’s one more emotion to mask?

He doesn’t want Janus to be scared of him.

“I’m not sure how much sense that makes,” Logan says. “If Janus truly has the trust issues that you are describing, it wouldn’t be rational for him to seek out Thomas as much as he has. If he fears being hurt, it would be more logical to stay away, rather than actively searching for his company.”

Virgil shrugs. “Exactly.”

There is a beat of silence. Thomas looks at Logan, and has the gratification of seeing that he appears as confused as he feels.

“What?” Logan asks.

“Oh my god,” Virgil says. “Do I have to be the one to spell this out? Janus has trust issues, yeah? He’s afraid of getting close to you, because he thinks you might hurt him. But he’s been spending time with you anyway. What does that tell you?”

He furrows his brow, trying to sort through the words. There is something there, a conclusion that Virgil is attempting to lead him, to, but it’s not quite—

Oh. Wait.

“That doesn’t follow,” Logan says. “You’re saying he doesn’t trust Thomas, but now you’re trying to imply that he does?”

Virgil shrugs again, this time looking remarkably self-satisfied, a smug smile forming on his lips. “I guess,” he says. “I’m not saying it has to make sense. Trust… isn’t always based on logic. Sometimes it’s just emotions, or even just a gut feeling. Intuition. And like I said, Janus pretends not to be emotional, but at heart, he’s just as much of a dramatic theater kid as Roman is, if that tells you anything. He’ll be snarky and prickly and dickish all day long, but just because he pushes you away doesn’t mean that’s actually what he wants.”

His voice lowers at the end, becoming something soft and bitter and laced with experience. Thomas exchanges another glance with Logan, but once again decides not to force the issue. Virgil will come to him when he’s ready and not a moment before.

“So, you think that he does trust me, on some level at least,” he says, working through the information as he goes. “But not enough to approach me openly, or to talk to me about it, so maybe he doesn’t trust me not to take advantage of that trust? Or maybe he doesn’t trust me to trust him, or maybe he doesn’t trust me not to reject his trust.” He pauses, considering. “Hey, do you ever say a word so many times that it starts to lose its meaning? Trust. Trust, trust, trust. Truuuust. See? Gibberish.”

Logan exhales through his nose, sharp and pointed. “Focus, Thomas,” he says wearily, and Thomas forcibly brings his head back down to earth. “Have you come to a conclusion as to what your next step should be?”

Thomas looks at him, and then looks at Virgil. They are both staring at him, twin expressions of expectation on their faces, and his heart warms to see them like this, working together so easily, united in their purposes. Logic and Anxiety, Logan and Virgil. They really do make a good team. He doesn’t know where he would be without them.

He hopes they know that.

“Yeah, I have,” he says, and laughs. “I guess I should’ve been doing it all along. I need to talk to him.”

Logan’s face relaxes, and he nods. “There you have it,” he says. “Working through this with us is fine and good, but you’ll never be satisfied until you can figuratively ‘clear the air’ with him.” He unfolds his hands, bracing them against the table as he stands, his chair scraping against the floor as he pushes it back. “If that is all you need from me, I believe I will be on my way.”

Thomas smiles at him, helpless to do anything but. He really does love his sides. “Sure thing,” he says. “Thanks a lot, Logan.”

Logan sinks out, but Thomas is sure that a matching smile plays about his lips.

And then, he looks to Virgil, still crouched in the other chair, shoulders hunched and fingers fiddling with the sleeves of his hoodie. His brow is creased, his eyes narrow, and it is a far cry from the open posture of moments before.

“You good?” he asks, and then stops to reconsider. Virgil is rarely completely good, so to speak, and clearly, there is something else on his mind now. “With all of this, I mean,” he clarifies. “I know you said that you were okay with me and Janus hanging out, but I know that there’s some kind of past between the two of you, and I. Uh. I mean, I want all of you to be happy, and that includes Janus, but that includes you, too. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable if there’s anything I can do to help with that.”

Virgil sighs, gaze shifting to meet his eyes. He looks tired all of a sudden, drained.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot, lately,” he admits. “And yeah, when he first showed up and started doing this? I was freaked. I’m sure you felt that. Logan’s had to talk me down a lot. But I—” He hesitates, sucking in a deep breath. “I’ve realized something recently, and that’s the fact that a lot of my problems with Janus are pretty personal. Not all of them, but more than I really thought. And I don’t think it’s fair to you to push my view of him onto you when really, I’ve just been projecting my own feelings.” He shakes his head ruefully. “My private issues with him don’t necessarily mean that he never makes any good points. Maybe if I hadn’t been so against hearing him out in the first place, we could’ve avoided a lot of bullshit. So, I’m sorry. From here on out, I’m gonna try to be better about that.”

Thomas blinks. And then blinks again. He feels as though a weight has been lifted from his chest, a weight that he didn’t know was there at all. It’s only now that it’s gone that he realizes how worried he has been about this, about Virgil and Janus and the relationship between them and how he is supposed to keep them both close when their enmity is so strong.

“Oh,” he says. “Oh, wow, uh. That’s really good to hear.” His words stumble over each other, but the smile that softens his tone is completely genuine, and he hopes that Virgil picks up on that. “I’m proud of you.”

Virgil jerks, his eyes widening. Under his foundation, his cheeks flush red.

“Cool,” he says. “Um, thanks. Whatever.” He salutes, his typical two-fingered motion landing just shy of casual, and he sinks out from the chair, leaving Thomas alone at the table.

Well. Not truly alone. When is he ever? Just because he can’t see them doesn’t mean they aren’t present, doesn’t make them any less a part of him.

He breathes deeply, in and out, and feels more balanced than he has for a long time.

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

He gives it a day. A day to rest, a day to formulate a vague plan of how to go about this, of what to say. Though he now feels secure in this course of action, knows that this conversation needs to happen, he is still nervous about stepping wrongly. Janus has a temper, and more defenses than a temple from Indiana Jones, and if this meeting goes off the rails, he isn’t sure how to salvage it. Better to try to keep it running smoothly from the very beginning.

He wishes he were more confident in his ability to do that.

He sits on the couch, tries to get comfortable. His heart is beating quickly, though just as much from anticipation as from nervousness. He inhales deeply, and then stretches out his arm, motioning like he’s trying to raise someone from the floor.

“Janus?” he calls out, and stops to wait.

And then, he is there, stepping smoothly from the shadows. It’s totally unlike the way the others rise up, but it’s not like how Virgil does it, either. Virgil appears suddenly, like every jump scare in every horror movie, quick and forceful and undeniable. But Janus strides forward as if he was there all along, and something in Thomas’ mind insists that he was, that he has been there this whole time, even though he knows very well that he only just arrived.

“Thomas,” he says, voice level and collected. Looking at him now, it is difficult to believe that he was ever injured, that Thomas has seen him bleeding and shaking, that Thomas has felt him cling to him in his sleep. He appears nothing less than completely put together, gloves immaculate and hat perfectly balanced, and just for a moment, Thomas loses his nerve.

But just for a moment, and that is all.

“Hey, Janus,” he says, projecting as much confidence as he can muster. “Do you have a minute?”

Janus lifts an eyebrow, and the set of his eyes shifts, just slightly. He wouldn’t have noticed if he weren’t watching, but there is a flash of— something. Dread, perhaps, though he can’t be sure, and whatever it is, it doesn’t show in his voice.

“I suppose,” he says, somehow managing to sound both agreeable and incredibly put upon, “though I am terribly busy, you know. I can’t imagine why you would assume I’d make time for you.”

As always, it takes mental gymnastics to figure out which parts he means and which parts are sarcasm, but Thomas tries not to dwell too much. He pats the couch next to him, gesturing for him to sit, and after a second of hesitation, Janus does, sinking into the cushion with a fluid, graceful motion, crossing one leg over the other. For all the world, he appears completely at ease, but Thomas isn’t convinced that’s the case. There is something in the tilt of his head, the tension in his hands, that suggests discomfort.

He hopes it’s just discomfort, and not anything stronger than that.

“Okay, well,” he says. “I’m glad you could.” He pauses, trying to figure out if there’s a delicate way to start this, but he thinks that Janus would see right through any attempt at prevarication on his part. So he soldiers ahead, bracing for the fallout, whatever that may be. “I’d like to talk to you about the snake thing that you do.”

Janus blinks, lifting his chin slightly, and Thomas can’t help but wonder if it’s a conscious decision for him. Blinking, that is. Snakes don’t blink, after all, so does that translate to his human form? Does he choose to blink? Does he have to think about it?

“I’m afraid you’ll have to be a bit more specific than that,” Janus says coolly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I’m at least partially a snake at all times, so you’ll have to tell me which ‘snake thing,’ exactly, you’re referring to.”

He sighs. “I think you know,” he says.

Janus’ shoulders stiffen minutely.

“And what about it?” he asks. “I don’t see what there is to discuss. Unless this is you asking me to stop.”

He sounds defensive, far more so than Thomas would like him to be so early in the conversation, and he struggles to quash his alarm.

“No, I’m not asking you to stop. Definitely not,” he says, meeting Janus’ eyes squarely. “I’m happy to spend time with you, Janus. And if you’re a snake during that time, then that’s completely fine. But I wanted to ask you why, I guess.” He hesitates, but Janus doesn’t interrupt, just continues to study him with wary eyes. “I mean, at first I just thought you wanted to get warm. And that’s cool! I’m one hundred percent cool with that! But the thing is, I’m pretty sure that there are other ways you could do that, if you wanted. So, I wanted to see if maybe there was another reason.”

Janus looks away at that, a scowl twisting his lips.

“Snakes are cold-blooded,” he says, his words short and clipped. “You’re a convenient source of heat, that’s all.”

Thomas has never been so sure that Janus is lying in all his life.

“Okay,” he says. “I’m not gonna push you to tell me. Not if you don’t want to. But if you do want to, you can. I really would like to know.”

And because the moment seems to call for it, he gently reaches out and places a hand on Janus’ arm. Janus’ eyes widen, and he tenses, but makes no move to pull away, so after a moment of indecision, wondering whether this touch is welcome or not, Thomas maintains the contact. After a second or two, Janus turns his head toward him again, eyes flitting back and forth between his hand and his face, and his expression is unreadable, but Thomas is fairly sure that some kind of emotion is trying to make itself known, though he can’t be sure exactly what it is. Shock, perhaps, but he doesn’t think he’s said anything too shocking, unless—

He remembers that day, Janus bleeding all over his bathroom sink, and the fading look of surprise on his face when Thomas told him that he wanted to take care of him.

And he wonders: does Janus know he can have this?

He tries to recall whether he’s ever touched Janus as a human. Besides that one incident, he doesn’t think he has. Even when he placed Janus in his own bed and sat next to him, he put distance between them, a gap that was only closed after they both fell asleep. And in the morning, Janus was gone, almost as if he was fleeing the scene, and Thomas thought it was because he was embarrassed, but what if that’s not all of it?

What if he was worried about how Thomas would react?

“Janus,” he says slowly, “you do know that I enjoy your company, right? And not just when you’re a snake. When you’re human-shaped, too.”

“Of course,” Janus says, but it’s too quick, too shaky for Thomas to even begin to believe him.

“I’m serious,” he presses. “Is that… is that why you only hang out with me when you’re a snake? Did you think I wouldn’t want to otherwise?”

Janus glances away again. “Right, because you’d definitely understand,” he mutters, and Thomas makes a negating gesture with his free hand.

“Then why don’t you help me understand?” he asks, somewhat desperately.

Janus stays quiet for a long minute, and as the silence stretches on, he fears that he’s messed it all up, somehow, that he had this one chance to connect and he blew it, made a mistake somewhere without realizing, and Janus is about to reject him and sink out and he will never have this opportunity again—

“You do realize what you’re asking of me?” Janus says softly. He still doesn’t look at Thomas. Thomas wishes he would. “An honest conversation isn’t exactly my strong suit.”

“That’s okay,” Thomas says, and Janus closes his eyes and nods. Once, sharply, almost as if to himself.

“It is about warmth,” he says. “At least partially. I’m not sure why your mind decided to assign me scientifically accurate snake traits, but—” He shrugs— “I’m more than used to it by now. I… never really needed to come up here, though. I have heating lamps of my own, and if that doesn’t suit, I can usually find a warm spot in the Imagination. But, that first day, the mindscape seemed so crowded, like I couldn’t find a moment’s peace. So I decided to try up here instead. I told myself that if you spotted me, I would leave.”

“But I did,” Thomas says. “And you didn’t.”

“I was dozing. You caught me off guard, and then… to be frank, I didn’t expect you to let me stay,” Janus admits, and Thomas feels a pang at the confirmation. “But then you did, so I kept doing it, and it became a routine.”

He nods. So far, there have been no surprises. He remembers all of this very well.

“And then there was that rainy day,” he prompts, and Janus winces slightly, his eyes sliding back open, staring out into the living room, unfocused.

“Yes,” he agrees, whisper-soft, and Thomas leans forward to hear him better. “I knew it was foolish of me to stay here when I could have just as easily gone to my room and been warm there. But I didn’t want to.”

The last sentence carries the weight of a confession.

“Why is that?” Thomas asks. He barely dares to let the words pass his lips. Even now, when Janus is clearly trying to open up to him, he is still scared of saying the wrong thing, of making him clam up again, pull away.

Slowly, Janus uncrosses his legs, letting his hands splay out against his legs. For a moment, Thomas’ eyes are drawn to the contrast, yellow on black.

“I—” Janus pauses, his expression pinched. He shakes his head. “In the mindscape, it’s somewhat difficult to ensure a moment of solitude. It’s quieter up here, and even besides, that, I—” He cuts off suddenly, a violent shiver running through him, so intense that it almost seems like a convulsion.

“You?” Thomas prompts, trying not to show his worry. But Janus refuses to reply, and as Thomas watches, he slowly brings a hand up to cover his own mouth, an unsettling parody of when he silenced the others. And something in Thomas’ heart breaks to see it, to see this, to see the way Janus retreats into himself, the way he presses his hand against his face as if trying to hold back a flood.

The posture reminds him of something. The posture reminds him of Virgil. Of Virgil, anxious and afraid of judgment, and Thomas never really expected that from Janus, but he remembers thinking, way back when this first started, about how Janus and Virgil are alike. And that thought gives him the courage to continue, because he knows how to get through to Virgil when he gets lost in his head, so maybe he can get through to Janus, too.

So, he reaches out. One hand still rests on Janus’ arm, but he gently curls the other around Janus’ wrist, though he doesn’t try to pull his hand from his face, not yet.

“You don’t need to do that,” he says. “You can tell me. I swear, I won’t betray your trust.”

Janus’ face spasms, and gently, Thomas guides the hand down from his jaw. The skin around his mouth is red from the force of his grip, except for where the scales glitter, and his lips are drawn into a thin line, pressed together tightly. But there is something shining in his eyes, something that Thomas can’t interpret.

“Won’t you?” Janus asks. It should be a challenge, but it isn’t, not quite, because it’s not nearly aggressive enough for that, not nearly as aggressive as it was probably intended to be. There is a quietness in the words, a sort of defeat, and all of that is mixed with an odd desperation, like Janus thinks he knows the answer but wants to hear it anyway. “You hardly have a reason not to.”

Thomas is beginning to wonder if they’re having the same conversation here.

“No,” he says. “I know this isn’t easy for you. But I do have a reason not to, and that reason is that I care about you.” He wants to scrub a hand down his face, to let a bit of his frustration show, but doing so would mean letting go of Janus, either his arm or his hand, and he doesn’t want to do that yet. “Look, I get that trust is hard. And I’m not asking for anything that I haven’t earned. But what I do earn, I’m not going to abuse. I promise you, Janus.”

Janus shudders at the sound of his name.

“Can you promise that?” he asks.

And Thomas does the only thing he can think to do and draws him in for a hug.

“Yes,” he says, resting his chin on Janus’ shoulder. “Yes, I can promise that.”

Janus freezes up, and for a moment, it’s like hugging a stone statue. But Thomas holds him close, so close that he can feel his heartbeat beneath all his layers, beating rabbit-quick and scared, and he doesn’t let him go, and incrementally slowly, Janus melts into his embrace, inch by inch, as if he’s fighting it, fighting himself.

“It’s about safety,” he murmurs, and Thomas has to strain to hear him. “I feel safe, with you.”

“I’m glad,” he replies, and hopes that Janus can hear just how much he means it. “I’m really glad. But why do you feel like you have to hide that?”

Janus doesn’t answer, but Thomas thinks he can guess. Virgil’s voice still rings in his ears, reminding him of how long he’s pushed the dark sides away, how long it has taken for him to acknowledge them as parts of him at all, much less important parts, parts deserving of respect in their own right. Really, what reason does Janus have to assume that Thomas won’t hurt him, won’t shove him to the side, back down into the dark? Why would Janus discard his caution in favor of trust when it has taken so very long for Thomas to be receptive to him at all?

Janus conceals so much, all the time. It’s a part of his function. So how can Thomas possibly expect him to admit what he truly wants?

“It frightens me,” Janus whispers suddenly, and Thomas pulls his attention back to the present, startled. “I never allow myself to trust anyone, and yet… I want to be close to you. I always have, I suppose, but I never really expected it to be possible. I never expected it to be a problem—”

“Whoa, hey, no,” Thomas says, because he definitely needs to cut off that line of thinking right away. He pulls away from Janus, gripping him by both shoulders and holding him in front of him so he can make eye contact. “Your feelings aren’t a problem. You feeling safe isn’t a problem, and it never will be, you hear? The only thing that’s a problem is that I refused to accept you for so long, and I’m trying to fix that now. But that’s not your fault.”

He takes a deep breath, gathering his thoughts. When he speaks again, he keeps his voice low and measured and as sincere as possible, and he doesn’t take his eyes off of Janus’ face.

“I know we don’t know each other that well,” he says. “I know there’s a lot about you that I don’t understand. But I’ve really liked spending time with you these past couple months, and not because you’re a snake. You don’t need to be a snake to spend time with me. You’re not intruding, or, or bothering me, or whatever. I want to hang out with you, no matter what shape you’re in.” He smiles wryly. “Really, the only reason I didn’t say so sooner was because I wasn’t sure what was going on, or if maybe you actually didn’t want to be around when you’re, uh, human-shaped. But, Janus, I really mean it. I want to get to know you better. I want to be friends. There’s no conditions attached to that.”

He pauses.

“You’re always welcome to be close to me,” he says. “Always.”

They stay like that for a moment, like time has frozen around them, frozen this moment, and Thomas scarcely dares to breathe. Either this was the right thing to say, or it wasn’t, and he can only hope for the former and not the latter, because there is no taking it back. He’s spoken his mind and his heart with nothing less than complete sincerity, and he couldn’t renege on that even if he wanted to.

Janus makes a choked noise, and then, with one gloved hand, reaches out and snags Thomas’ shirt. And he pulls himself close, tucking himself against Thomas’ chest, burying his face into his shirt. His hat slides off his head and to the ground, but he doesn’t seem to notice, or care if he does. His shoulders are shaking, and Thomas can feel the growing dampness of the fabric against his skin, but he doesn’t say anything, because he’s said all that needs to be said. He knows it, and he thinks that Janus knows it, and he hopes that now, Janus will finally, finally be able to believe him.

So Thomas just wraps his arms around him, and holds him steady.

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

It’s movie night. It’s movie night, and Thomas is feeling good, great, even, because there are no pressing deadlines or moral crises, and he’s making popcorn in the kitchen, a soft blanket draped over his shoulders while he listens to everyone affably bicker in the living room. And that’s what it is: bickering, not arguing, not fighting. Roman is advocating for Disney, surprise surprise, while Virgil is groaning about how “that’s literally all you ever want to watch,” and Patton is chiming in with a desire to watch something with animals, anything really, he’s not all that picky, and Thomas can’t help but smile as he walks in to join them.

Logan is the only one not particularly invested in the conversation, and he greets him with a nod. Thomas hands him the popcorn bowl, trusting him not to make a mess of it, and settles against his side. The others pile in in short order, Patton on the floor and leaning against his legs, Virgil tucked into his other side, and Roman dramatically splaying himself out along the rest of the couch and putting his head in Virgil’s lap.

Remus is here too, behind the couch. Thomas has told him that he’s free to join in if he puts some clothes on, and though Remus swiftly turned him down, there was an odd gleam in his eye that told Thomas to expect a change in the future.

“Was Janus going to join us?” Logan asks, voice barely audible over the sound of the others’ discussion, which has continued uninterrupted, entirely too intense for something as simple as picking a movie to watch.

Thomas grins at him, and lifts the blanket so he can see Janus, draped across his shoulders. Janus lifts his head and flickers his tongue out at Logan, but makes no move to leave or hide. Virgil glances over briefly and frowns, but doesn’t comment, giving Thomas a short nod.

“The Lion King it is!” Roman bursts out, and Thomas settles in.

They watch The Lion King, and when that’s done, Virgil insists on Hocus Pocus, and it’s getting late after that, but Patton quietly asks for Princess and the Frog, and even though Thomas can tell that everyone is close to nodding off, he puts the disk in and lets it play. His own eyelids are drooping before Tiana even meets Naveen, and he is close to falling asleep before Janus begins to shift in place, rousing him a bit.

And suddenly, Janus is in his lap, human-shaped, snuggling up against his chest with a sigh of contentment. Thomas adjusts automatically, shuffling so that everyone can stay comfortable. Virgil mutters something along the lines of, “Get your damn snaky elbow out of my face,” but his sleepiness undercuts any venom the words might have.

“You good, buddy?” Thomas murmurs, too tired to say much of anything else.

Janus hums, taking off his hat and casting it to the ground before tucking his head under Thomas’ chin.

“Shhhhut up and go to ssssleep,” he slurs, and Thomas smiles.

Besides the movie still playing on-screen, the living room is dark. But before Thomas closes his eyes, he thinks he sees Remus staring at him, thinks he inclines his head in… what, approval? And then he is gone, and Thomas doesn’t think too much more about it.

Because he has Janus, and he has all the rest of his sides here, gathered around him, at peace, and all is well with the world.

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

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#sanders sides #ts sides #platonic thomceit #character!thomas #janus sanders #ts janus #logan sanders #ts logan #virgil sanders #ts virgil #my fic #long post #that's a wrap folks!

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thelibrarbian · 3 years

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Rating: T

Chapter word count: 2384

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---

Movement on the upper floor made Papyrus look up, just in time to see the door to Sans' room open and his brother step out. Sans shuffled up to the banister and leaned against it, looking down into the living room. When his gaze landed on the two skeletons on the couch, his eyebrows shot up, but all he said on the matter was a small "huh".

"did he wake up? thought i heard you guys talking."

"He did - well, somewhat." Papyrus glanced down at Fell, who appeared to be deeply asleep once again. It was less alarming now he knew that Fell wasn't Falling Down, but it was a strange sight nevertheless. He didn't even twitch in response to the talking right next to him, and Papyrus got the distinct impression that he wouldn't stir even if somebody broke down the door and started supplexing the couch. He made sure to keep his voice low anyway. "But I think he will be alright." Eventually. "For now, I suppose he has earned his rest."

Sans gave a vague hum of agreement, leaning heavily against the railing.

Papyrus looked his brother up and down, frowning slightly. "Sans… I know this is a rare thing for me to encourage, but I think you, too, should try to sleep a little. It's still the middle of the night, and while I may not need to nap for such an excessive amount of time, I do believe you're used to your eight hours of snoozing."

Sans chuckled and shook his head before pushing himself back from the banister. "eh, it's fine." He began to shuffle down the stairs. "you keep telling me i should find hobbies other than napping, right?"

Papyrus raised an eyebrow. "That may be true, and far be it from me to curb your enthusiasm! But maybe we should postpone these plans to a time when you don't look like you're going to pass out standing up?" His quota for passed out skeletons this night was already filled.

"you mean i look bone tired?" Sans winked.

Papyrus let out a huff. "Do not attempt to distract me with your perpetual punning! That one was low even by your standards." He sighed. "But I suppose I can't be too hard on you today. How is Red?"

"still sleeping." Sans reached the bottom of the stairs and leaned against the banister. "and snoring like a chainsaw, that's why my napping's on hold."

Instead of pointing out that Sans usually had no trouble falling asleep even in the noisiest environments, Papyrus waved his brother over. He couldn't exactly give him a hug with Fell on his lap, so he settled for the closest alternative, placing a hand on his shoulder and giving it a gentle squeeze.

Sans raised an eyebrow. "you okay, bro? i mean, i'm not complaining about unprompted cuddles, but…"

Papyrus straightened himself. "Of course! I, the Great Papyrus, master of first aid and healing magic, am perfectly fine!"

Sans didn't look entirely convinced, which was absurd - after all, what reason did Papyrus have to not be okay? Everything was fine. Or would be fine very soon. No, Papyrus was more concerned about his brother - and he would have asked if he really was alright, but he already knew the question would just be shrugged off with another pun.

Setting that aside, though, there were currently two unconscious skeletons in their house, and even though everything was certainly going to be just fine, their unexpected guests would need something to help them recover both health and magic when they woke up. He shared the thought with his brother. "And as much as I would love to volunteer my culinary expertise, I am a little stuck here at the moment," he added. "So if you don't mind lending a hand again…"

"i gotcha, bro." Sans pat Papyrus' hand that was still on his shoulder. "and by that i mean, i'd get grillby's, but-"

Papyrus sighed. "But it's two in the morning," he finished the sentence for him. Grillby, too, belonged to the majority of monsters that slept at night, and therefore couldn't keep his establishment open around the clock. "Fortunately, because I can not in good conscience subject our guests to anything that comes out of that greasehole."

Sans chuckled faintly. "hey, you did like the milkshakes last time."

"The milkshakes are an exception! And do not distract from the issue at hand, brother! No Grillby's! You will need to make do with what we have. Such as…" Papyrus paused, mentally going through the contents of the fridge. Which was a rather small selection, now that he thought about it. Had he known that they would have visitors tonight, he would have moved his weekly shopping trip forward by a day. "Well, aside from your empty chips bag - which I am only tolerating because it's in your half of the fridge - there should be some spaghetti left over from yesterday…"

"oh. uh…" Sans looked aside, rubbing the back of his neck.

Papyrus was still waiting for the day when his brother would speak his honest opinion on his pasta, but today was not the time to have that conversation. He decided to rescue him. "I see what you are thinking, brother! Reheated pasta is not an appropriate meal for our recovering guests. It will be much better fresh, so we shall hold off on the spaghetti until I return with the groceries tomorrow."

Sans' shoulders visibly sagged in relief. "sounds great, bro."

"In the meantime, I believe we still have tomato soup in the freezer."

"nice." Sans gave an appreciative nod, the corners of his permanent grin rising up a little higher. "leave the tomato stuff to me, i got it."

"Thank you, brother." Papyrus gave Sans' shoulder another squeeze before letting him go.

It took a good minute before a realization struck him. "Sans!!" he whisper-yelled after him. "You are not going to put ketchup into that soup!"

All he heard in response was his brother bustling about in the kitchen.

---

It was hard to miss the exact moment when Red woke up. There was a thump and a muffled curse from the upper floor, then the sound of displaced air from a shortcut right next to the couch as Red appeared there, kicking a tangled blanket off his feet. The tension was practically oozing off of him, his eye lights darting once around the room before settling on his brother.

"is he…"

"He is going to be perfectly alright, yes." Papyrus made sure to inject as much sincerity as he could into the statement while still keeping his voice quiet. "He even woke up a little while ago, and I'm sure he will be on the mend in no time at all."

Red only gave a nod, his eye lights still fixed on his brother. Papyrus couldn't blame him.

"How are you feeling, Red? We were worried when you suddenly passed out - as comfortable as our carpet is, I do not think it was intended-"

"'m fine," Red interrupted him. The hollow tone to his voice, the dim eye lights, and the tense set of his shoulders told a different story, but Papyrus didn't press.

"My brother is making soup for all of us," he said instead. "Unless he has fallen asleep in the kitchen, that is. Which, while hardly surprising, would be rather ill-timed, not to mention a fire hazard…" He craned his neck to try and peer into the kitchen, hoping that Sans wasn't really asleep at the stove…

"nah, i'm soup-er awake over here," a familiar voice from the kitchen reassured him.

Red didn't even react to the pun. Instead, his eyes suddenly locked on the skeleton in Papyrus' lap with increased intensity, and Papyrus followed his gaze down.

Fell's sockets were open again. Maybe it was just Papyrus' imagination, but his eye lights looked a little brighter than before, even if he still didn't seem entirely aware. He wasn't trying to move, but the impression Papyrus got was more of a grouchy monster whose sleep had been disturbed rather than anything he really needed to worry about.

Red cracked a grin that was still looking strained. "heh. lookin' pretty cozy there, boss."

The only response was an unintelligible grumble and what seemed to be a weak attempt at a glare, although Papyrus couldn't tell for sure from his position. However, he didn't miss the way Red's shoulders sagged and his expression turned into something less of a tense grimace.

"Would you like to join us, Red?" Papyrus asked.

Red shook his head. "nah, 'm good. don't think ya two cuddle bugs have left enough space for my bony ass, anyway."

The pillow rustled as Fell lifted his head just slightly to look at his brother, and whatever Red saw on his face, it apparently made him change his mind. With a cautiousness Papyrus had never seen him use before, he shuffled over and perched on the very edge of the couch next to Fell's feet, settling a hand on an uninjured part of his leg. "there. happy?" he asked, the gruff tone to his voice not quite matching the care with which he was moving.

Fell gave a vaguely affirmative grunt and snuggled back into the pillows on Papyrus' lap, letting out a soft huff as his body relaxed again.

Red was watching his brother with a rare soft expression on his face that Papyrus had the strong feeling he wasn't supposed to see. He quickly looked away, occupying himself with rearranging the blankets.

There was a brief moment of silence before Red spoke up again. "y'know, i'd say sorry for dumping this on yer doorstep, but…"

Papyrus quickly shook his head. "Oh no, we're very happy to have you as our guests! I mean, I do wish we had you as our guests under different circumstances, but given the situation, I am very, very glad you came here!"

Red shrugged, leaning back against the arm of the couch. His hand remained on his brother's leg. "wasn't like we had much choice." His expression darkened slightly. "'t was either you guys or the doc, and who knows what she woulda…" He trailed off.

Before Papyrus could ask what the issue with their world's version of Alphys was, there was a familiar rush of displaced air as Sans appeared next to the couch, balancing a tray of soup bowls in his hands. "mornin', sleepybones," he greeted the latest arrival on the couch.

Red grumbled good-naturedly, grabbing a bowl before slumping back into his end of the couch, somehow without jostling Fell's legs in the slightest.

Sans unceremoniously plopped down on the ground with his own bowl after handing the third one to Papyrus. "bone appetit."

That particular pun was about as tired as Sans looked, but Papyrus still awarded the attempt with an eyeroll. He carefully took a sip - and yes, there was the unmistakable sweet tang of his brother's favorite condiment. "Sans…"

"'sup, bro?" He let his skull roll back against the couch, innocently grinning up at Papyrus.

"You know exactly what is 'up', brother." It didn't even taste bad, if Papyrus was completely honest, but it was a matter of principle.

"what, not a fan of the soup-prise ingredient? i think it tastes soup-erb."

Papyrus took the bait. "That's three times that you've used 'soup' in the span of five minutes!"

Sans shrugged. "what can i say, it's a classic. though i soup-pose i should ketchup on some new material…"

Papyrus let out a long-suffering sigh and turned to the other Sans in the room. "What about you, Red? Are you enjoying the soup? We can get you something" – he side-eyed his brother – "less ketchup-heavy…"

Red shook his head and gave a thumbs-up at the same time, emptying what appeared to be half the bowl in a single gulp. "nah, soup's perfect. gotta condiment yer cooking, comic."

"Don't encourage him!"

A snicker came from the ground next to the couch. "thanks. gotta admit, i've been stewing over it for a while, so i'm glad at least someone's relishing it."

Papyrus groaned. Quietly, of course, even though Fell seemed dead to the world again… no, that was a bad one.

Red's face suddenly split into a sharp-toothed grin that filled Papyrus with dread. "but ya know, i wonder if we could spice it up-"

"Please do not wonder!" Papyrus tried to cut him off, but it was already too late.

"say no more." With an equally wide grin, Sans got up and disappeared into another shortcut. He returned a second later with a suspiciously yellow condiment bottle and tossed it at his alternate on the couch, who expertly caught it.

"Do not think I don't see how you're fully exploiting the fact that I can't get up right now!" Papyrus whisper-yelled.

Red made full eye contact as he uncapped the bottle and, teasingly slowly, turned it upside down above his bowl. Somehow, his grin widened even further.

Groaning, Papyrus threw an arm over his eye sockets (albeit slightly less dramatically than he would have done without a sleeping skeleton on his lap) so he didn't have to watch him squirt an ungodly amount of mustard into his soup. "Why??" he lamented. "Why must I be plagued by the only two monsters in existence who will ruin a perfectly good tomato soup with condiments?"

He sensed more than saw the bottle flying past him and back to Sans. There was another squelch of mustard being squeezed into soup.

"I swear, you're only doing this to torment me!"

"hey, don't knock it 'til you've tried it, bro."

"I don't need to try it to know that mustard has no place in a tomato soup!"

"nah," Red chimed in. "i think ya just haven't mustard up the courage fer it."

Papyrus buried his face in his hands.

"what's the matter, creampuff? can't take what we're dishin' out?"

Papyrus let out a perfectly silent screech to keep himself from smiling at the horrendous puns. Not to smile at the two Sanses' laughter that rewarded him proved more difficult, though. Playing along with their jokes was comfortable, familiar - and just for a little while, it was easier to pretend that everything truly was alright.

#undertale #undertale fanfiction #papyrus #sans #underfell sans #underfell papyrus #(although he's unconscious for most of the chapter)#platonic edgepuff #hurt/comfort #my writing #out of action fic

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kyber-heart · 3 years

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Collar’s off… But I don’t believe Tai would this to her.

He doesn’t want or need a slave. Tai would rather have a friend. Theirs is certainly a friendship forged in strange circumstance though. In my mind this conversation went more like this;

Vaiken Spacedock was, as Tai seen it, the epitome of Imperial order. The energy of the station felt as frantic as any space port he had been in, yet everything moved in perfect unison, orderly and on-time. Behind him, he could sense unease radiating from his Twi’lek companion.

“Something on your mind?”

“This place is just big and … creepy. There’s no yelling, no bustle. It’s loud but it’s just so… sterile” Vette’s voice lowered slightly “… and a lot of people are looking”

He chuckled at her reply. Indeed they made for quite the sight. A red-skinned Sith Apprentice, pushing a Tuk'ata pup in a travel cage, accompanied by a Twi'lek made for a veritable circus show for the predominantly human imperial population of the station.

The unlikely trio made their way to the dromund kaas departures terminals. It surprised Tai to learn that Baras had pre-arranged transport. A Gage-class troop transport and cargo ship called ‘The Black Talon’. “Wow, we’re really coming up in the world.” Vette had chimed in flatly as the droid assistant issued their boarding passes. with the transport not scheduled to depart for another couple of hours, Tai suggested visiting the commerce level of the station. The trio spent the next few hours visiting the multitude of stores and vendors that comprised the outer ring of the level.

Tai did the most spending, buying for himself a new set of Lashaa robes and visited a workshop on lightsaber repair and construction to buy the tools needed to maintain his newly acquired weapon. He insisted on buying Vette some new clothes to better blend in with the crowd. She reluctantly agreed upon a gray and maroon suit, with a terenthium lined protection vest. Vette opted to change into her clothing now however Tai opted to wait until they could rest on the transport.

With their shopping trip completed the pair decided to waste time in the central food-court and cantina. The patrons made no attempts to hide their stares as the pair and their pet took a seat in one of the booths. They were quickly approached by a tired looking Mirialan woman trying to keep an upbeat attitude. She handed them thin datapads that displayed menus. They spoke nothing as they skimmed the menus. In fact, Tai found it quite odd that Vette had not said anything since setting foot in the establishment. Indeed she had progressively spoke little the longer they were on the station. He peered over his menu at her noticing that while she appeared to be looking down at her menu, her gaze was fixed at the counter where their waitress stood speaking to another alien of a race Tai was unfamiliar with.

“Something on your mind?” He asked tentatively.

His words seemed to snap Vette out of a trance.

“Um, nothing. It’s fine.” She shifted awkwardly, possibly from having been caught out.

Before Tai could press the issue, he was interrupted by the reappearance of their waitress. The pair ordered light food, and Tai placed a special request for some raw meat for Varpa.

The slience resumed until Vette spoke again.

“So, hey, I’ve been thinking… maybe you want to take this shock collar off?”

Tai could tell, even without the force that she was nervous with her request. Her eyes darting from him to other patrons around them.

“You know, as a sign of thanks for my hard work on Korriban?” she continued.

He leaned forward in his seat, elbows resting on the edge of the table. The collar, a standard design used across The Empire for it’s slaves, flashed repeatedly as he eyed it. It was a device as repugnant as it was ugly.

“Of course. Lord Baras released you into my care but I have no need for a servant. Neither that collar nor your slavery were my idea.”

Tai stood and stretched across the table to unlock the device with the security cylinder that the academy jailer had given him. Vette’s expressive face morphed through a range of emotions from fear to confusion.

“Uh thanks, I think.” was all she replied.

The collar unlocked simply with a soft metallic click. Tai took the collar, placing it into his bag to dispose of later.

As he looked up, he noticed their waitress had returned with their orders, her eyes widened. Tai could feel shock, anger, and despair radiating off this woman who glanced in Vette’s direction from the corner of her eyes. She had clearly seen him remove the collar. Vette met her eyes and smiled weakly. It wasn’t as though either of them could do the same for her. Tai observed as she forced back a smile.

“Enjoy your meal” she spoke with soft and defeated tone. She left them briskly walking back to her post. Tai glanced to Vette who continued to watch her as she left. Sensing that she was being watched, she looked to Tai with odd look on her face. He dropped his own gaze, a silent acknowledgement of the difficult situation they had witnessed.

“So … what happens now?” she asked still nervous but markedly less so than when she had begun the conversation.

“Well this is as good a point as any to discuss this…“ He took a sip of the tea he had ordered before speaking ” Lord Baras gave you to me to do as I please, and I choose to release you.You’re free to leave if you so wish.”

“I’m just free to leave? Just like that?”

“Yes, you may leave. If you wish I can help you change your flight ticket and book passage away from Imperial Space. However, I should point out that travel as an alien through Imperial Space is … difficult. I propose that if you continue with me to Dromund Kaas, we can find way to safely let you leave, if you would prefer that. I welcome your company if you would join me. I won’t promise that it will be easy though.”

Her look of surprise at his offer was likely visible across the room. “Is this some kind of joke to you?” Her tone shifted to accusatory and the look of surprise became irritation.

“Not at all. I’m making you a genuine offer, if you are willing to come with me to Dromund Kaas, I will do what I can to help you to go back to where ever you came from.”

Vette picked around at her food, he assumed that she was at least considering his offer. Taking the plate of raw steak meat and gently opening the travel cage door to slide it in for the little pup who perked up immediately upon smelling it, Tai smirked as he watched Varpa tear into the meat voraciously. He turned to his own food and proceeded to eat in silence. Occasionally casting an eye to Vette who seemed to be purposefully not looking at him. They finished their meal in mutual silence. Only after their waitress removed their plates and they began to gather their belongings did Vette speak to Tai.

“About the offer… I- I’ll take it.”

Tai smirked “Excellent! You and I, working together. Taking down the Galaxy. What do you think?” He grinned toothily at her. She clearly wasn’t expecting a joke like that. She visibly recoiled in shock and confusion.

“What? Er, well, of course… me and buddy the Sith. Nobody’s going to pick on me at school.”

Tai laughed. It seemed that she had regained her spark. He was glad of it. It made him uncomfortable to see the usually vibrant personality seem so dour. Setting the travel cage to hover once more, they made their way to the departure bay. As they approached, Tai immediately caught sight of a hulking gray skinned alien, with a hunched back. Without having to look, he surely knew that a Rattataki woman would be standing in front of him. Sure enough, Nicaya Setriss stood waiting in-line to board 'The Black Talon’. She seemed to be engaging some of the other passengers. An equally eclectic group consisting of a human woman, a heavily armored human man, another Rattataki woman in a long coat, and… a Chiss? He looked at the blue skinned alien with awe. He had never met not seen a Chiss in his life, only holo images of famous diplomats.

“Hey isn’t that your creepy friend?” Vette pipped up

Tai nodded in response. “So it seems, and it looks like she’s making some new friends. I think we should introduce ourselves….

#anto's adventures in writing #oc: matai shayn #unbeta'd and barely edited #just tossing this out into the ether #i'm not tryna write the next masterpiece lol #just wanna toss up some fic how how i see things #and while this might not seem too consequential #aspects of it will come back up in other fics i want to write

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heyswagmoney · 3 years

Note

also! 31. “it was an accident! i didn’t mean to shrink your damn sweater!” + slimecicle (bc ily <3 /p)

i love you more selk!!!

Today was a day everyone was scared of.

Charlie had taken Wilbur’s classic crewneck. He was going to be cold, as a slime could get, and Wilbur didn’t mind sharing for a day. It was a small enough adventure the slime was going on.

Everyone knew what was to happen.

Charlie was never the most careful person. So, as he was wearing it, feeling so warm and toasty and cozied up-

Oh god.

He took damage.

He split into a smaller piece.

This wouldn’t be an issue in normal circumstances. But, since he was so snuggled up in the crewneck.... It shrunk with him.

Panic rushed through him. He didn’t know how Wilbur would react, how things would play out, if he would ever be able to borrow something warm from anyone again-

He had to hide it, he decided.

So, Charlie finished his exploration. He got the wood and supplies he needed, plus a little extra, then headed home. As he arrived back at his home, he quickly moved into his little basement, hiding a tiny chest beneath the messy floor.

When Wilbur arrived back into the server, the first place he went was to Charlie.

“Hey, Slime!” The brunette greeted, a smile slick on his face. He was invisible, with a hat and a stick to show where he was. Too bright.

“Uh, Ha! Hey- Uh. Wilbur.” Charlie stuttered back, a nervous smile crossing his face. He was half as tall as the counterpart, his skin greased with fluorescent green slime.

The hat representing Wilbur moved forward a bit. “Is- Is everything good? How was the tundra?” He asked, concern lacing his words.

Charlie’s eyes widened a bit, before he gave another laugh. “Pssshhh, yeah, everything went fiiiiine. Just took a bit of damage.” His voice trailed off near the end.

“I can tell!” Wilbur gave a cheerful laugh, and tapped Charlie with his stick. “Hey, I was wondering if I could get the crewneck back? It gets a bit chilly at night.”

If he weren’t green, Charlie’s face would’ve been pale in the moment. He swallowed before speaking. “Uh- Yeah, about that.”

“Did you lose it?” Wilbur pressed, his voice hardening.

“Oh! No, no- I still- Let me just-“ The slime stuttered his way into his ‘basement’, sighing as he uncovered the chest and took out the now miniature sweater.

Charlie handed Wilbur the slightly sticky, and quite small, sweater. “Sorry?”

Wilbur’s silhouette seemed to stare at it. “Charlie.” He started, his voice monotone. “Why is my sweater tiny?”

“Well- Y’see- It’s- I-“ He stuttered, looking almost anywhere but where he thought Wilbur was. “Y’know that damage I took? Yeah- Well I kind of took it... I took damage in the sweatshirt.”

Wilbur sighed dramatically, before almost whining out, “Charlie this one is my favorite!”

“It was an accident! I didn’t mean to shrink it!” Charlie responded with an upset tone. “Y’know what? I’ll make you a new one.”

“You dont have t-“

“I’m making you a slime sweater.”

#slimecicle #wilbur soot #origins smp #charlie slimecicle #phantom!wilbur #slime!charlie #dream smp #mcyt #philza #ranboo #tubbo #tommyinnit #jack manifold #jschlatt #nihachu #loving selkie tag

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yadds · 4 years

Text

Heyyyy so guess who’s not dead! Anyway, for anyone that’s interested, I’ve decided that I’m not posting ongoing works until I’m done with them then will post as I’m editing. Sorry! However, I do have an excerpt that I like a bit that can stand alone, so here it is! Also, despite the sexual nature of the initial conversation, this is pre-starker and isn’t really much about sex.

Minor background info: Tony has come back from the dead and is still with Pepper but they’re having issues. Meanwhile, the Starker bromance is developing and they hang out quite a bit.

____________________________________________________________________

“Spit or swallow?” Peter asked out of the blue as they sat on the couch watching reality tv.

Tony’s eyebrows were about to climb right into his hairline. “Excuse me?”

“Spit or swallow?” he repeated, over enunciating. “What are your thoughts?”

“Just to be clear, we’re talking about…” Tony trailed off slowly.

“You know, bjs. Blowies. I’m sure you’ve gotten one once or twice,” Peter said with a roll of his eyes, tossing several pieces of popcorn into his mouth.

“Yeah, might have happened on a rare occasion,” Tony responded dryly. “Well, honestly I can take it or leave it on the receiving end, doesn’t make that much of a difference to me.”

Peter’s head tilted back and forth, considering, before shrugging.

“When giving though, I generally don’t like either. Don’t get me wrong, I love going down on people and making them feel good, but I prefer if they don’t finish in my mouth. Obviously I’ve done it before and may very well do it again so I guess I’d probably say swallow? It’s already there, so why make a mess?”

Peter’s attention was now fully on Tony, the TV forgotten in the background. Tony glanced over and smiled wryly when he saw his gaping mouth and red cheeks. “What’s with the stunned mullet impression? Did you not literally just ask that question? Am I going senile already?”

Peter cleared his throat and turned back to face the tv again. “Uh, yeah, I uh I did ask. But I was thinking more on the receiving end - I wasn’t expecting you to talk about giving.”

One of Tony’s brows crept back up. “Oh? And why is that? Because you think I’m a selfish asshole in bed as well or because you think I’m shy?”

Peter shook his head quickly, not catching the amused tilt of Tony’s lips. “No, no of course not! I just didn’t know that you, uh, you know, partake, in partners of the, uh, male persuasion?” If Peter shoveled any more popcorn into his mouth after the desperate handful he just shoved in there, he was going to suffocate.

“Huh,” Tony said thoughtfully. Had they really never talked about this before? “Well, weird phrasing aside (because that was weird, kid, what’s up with that?), I thought it was pretty common knowledge that I was bisexual.”

Peter shook his head again, glancing back Tony’s way. “Nope, definitely not. At least not in any of the articles or interviews online. I mean, yeah, there are a few sources that mention the possibility of you not being completely straight, but they all sound like speculation.”

Tony was speechless for a minute. He watched Peter notice the extended silence and seem to realize what he just said, curling forward and burying his face in his hands, ears bright red.

He finally gathered enough wits to say, “Well, then I guess it was just common knowledge among people who actually know me. SI probably paid off the men I slept with - because heaven forbid the infamous playboy figurehead be seen with a man back in the day. I honestly never paid attention to what exactly was in the press, just made sure I was in it. If I’d known, I definitely would have been more blatantly obvious.”

He was quiet again for about five seconds before he pulled his leg up on the couch and fully turned towards Peter. “I’m sorry, I tried, but I can’t just let this go. I knew you were a big fan, but sounds like you’ve really done your research, Pete.” He couldn’t drop the shit-eating grin on his face.

Peter flopped all the way forward, shoving his face into his knees, groaning. “Can we not do this?” he whined. It only took another ten seconds of pointed silence before Peter broke. “Ugh, okay, so I may have had a crush on you when I was younger,” he admitted. “A teeny tiny, definitely not life-consuming, crush.”

Tony laughed. “And when was this?”

“I don’t know, it started when I was like 13 probably.”

“And you thought you should google my sexuality to see if, what, you had a chance with the guy four times your age that you’d never meet?” Tony didn’t think he’d been this amused in a long time.

Peter sat back up and peeked at him just to throw him a glare. “Yes, because thirteen year olds are so logical, especially when it comes to hormonal urges.”

“Never would have pegged you for being into older men.”

“Really? Because most people aren’t surprised - I apparently just radiate ‘twink with a daddy kink’,” Peter said matter-of-factly.

Tony choked, coughing loudly. “I’m sorry, did you just, in a roundabout way, call me a Daddy? In a way that has nothing to do with my daughter?”

“I- can we talk about something else now?” Peter squeaked.

“That...is probably a good idea,” Tony agreed, feeling his own cheeks heat.

They both stared very intently at the TV, trying to think of anything else.

After a while, Peter spoke up. “Why would you do it again?”

“What?” Tony asked, confused.

“Sorry, I’m back on the spit or swallow question,” Peter explained.

Now it was Tony’s turn to groan. “I thought we were talking about something else.”

“Yeah, something that’s not my personal and very embarrassing past. Now that I have the question, I can’t think of anything else.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Fine. So why would I do what again, exactly? Give a blow job?”

“Well, I mean, that too, considering that you’re still with Pepper and I’m 99.9999% sure she doesn’t have the right equipment for that. But I was talking about spitting or swallowing. Why would you do either? You said you don’t like it.”

“Relationships are about compromise Pete, even in the bedroom. And I don’t hate it when I’m in the mood for it.”

“What a ringing endorsement,” Peter said flatly. “Yeah, there’s gotta be some compromise, but that should be more along the lines of maybe trying new things that you may not have done on your own but are open to. Doing something you definitively, straight up don’t like in bed should not be one of them.”

Tony looked at Peter, perplexed. “I...don’t even know what to say to that. When did you become an expert in this?”

Peter shrugged. “You’d be surprised how much of my time as Spiderman is spent just lending an ear when people are having a hard time. And sex and relationships come up a lot because I guess it’s easier to talk to a random person in a mask than to someone you know. I try to just listen and not to give advice most of the time, since I’m not an expert and everyone’s situation is different, but sometimes people are in circumstances that are dangerous, emotionally and mentally. So I took a couple relationship health and psychology classes my freshman year in college and read up on some of these things to know what to say.”

Tony’s heart warmed, hearing how earnestly Peter wanted to help people. He smiled softly. “Never thought you’d use that on Tony Stark, did you?” he joked.

Peter scoffed. “Please, you were like, the poster child for a lot of these issues. I like to think you’ve finally gotten wiser in your ‘old age’, but I’ve mentally given you several high-handed pep talks.”

Tony was taken aback. “Oh? And what was the subject of these pep talks?”

“Mostly self-worth and your complete lack of it.”

Tony chuckled again. “Well maybe you haven’t heard, but I actually have an unrealistically high opinion of myself, kid.”

“Yeah, do you think that if you keep talking about it loudly enough, you might start believing it?” Peter asked, eyebrow raised.

“Excuse me? I am one of the richest, smartest people on the damn planet. I single-handedly created a superhero while a prisoner in a cave. I created clean energy that can power the planet and I’m pretty sure I’m damn close to being able to end poverty,” Tony rebuked, getting irritated.

“I know, so why do you still feel like it’s not enough?” Peter asked with a shrug, pointedly not looking at him. “All those amazing accomplishments, things no one else would be able to do, but how often do you think about that instead of the few mistakes you’ve made?”

Tony crossed his arms. “Get out of my fucking head, kid,” he grunted.

Peter turned to him with a grin. “You think I should change my degree plan and become a shrink?”

“Definitely not. You’re pretty much done anyway and I need you in my labs, not consoling lunatics like me.”

Peter reeled back exaggeratedly. “You’re quite presumptuous, Mr. Stark, assuming I’ll be working for you.”

“You’d better,” Tony insisted.

“Is that a threat?” Peter asked cheekily.

“Definitely.”

Laughing, Peter settled back into the cushions and resumed his popcorn eating.

After several minutes of watching TV in silence, Peter turned back to Tony. “You know I still think you’re just as amazing as you try to say you are, right?”

Glancing at Peter out of the corner of his eye, he shook his head at Peter’s earnest expression. “No clue why,” he said wryly. “But yeah, I know. Thanks, kid,” Tony said, smile soft as his hand came up to grip the back of Peter’s neck before pulling him into a hug.

Tony cleared his throat and sat back before saying gruffly, “Now shut up and watch...whatever the hell it is you’re making me watch.”

Peter snorted but kept his mouth shut. And as he settled more comfortably under Tony’s arm, his back pressed up against Tony’s side as Tony’s arm draped across Peter’s chest, Tony had to wonder if this is one of the things Pepper had been talking about.

But as he felt the warmth of Peter pressed against him, felt the soft rise and fall of his breathing, felt the proof that Peter was alive and safe, Tony shook away the thought.

_____________________________________________________________________

So I’m starting to see a pattern - I tend to write like hell during the fall and winter and not during the summer at all. So apparently I have an off-season lol. Hopefully the pattern continues for the next few months and I can get a few projects finished!

#starker #pre-starker #starker endgame #fic #ficlet #yadds writes #idek #im so out of practice tagging #and i just don't care right now

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chloelucia13 · 3 years

Text

Chapter 5: Downpour

Pairing: Spencer Reid x reader

Prompt: After a year free of Spencer Reid, you had finally began to think that you had moved on. A simple (not-so-simple) knock at the door immediately changes that thought, though.

Warnings: Angst, some fluff, lead-up to smut, language, descriptions of violence and gore, mentions of death, pretty routine though

Word Count: 3006

A/N: And we’re on to chapter 5! I hope you all aren’t too upset about the big time jump. Anyways, enjoy, and as always, my tag lists and asks are open!

Tags: @tclaerh, @jemimah-b99, @x2moonlight2x-blog

***

You hate Valentine’s Day.

You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you had someone to spend Valentine’s Day with. Most of your life you had spent working hard to get good grades, succeed in college, and get your doctorate.

Then Spencer came along. The two of you had been dating for only a few months when Valentine’s had come around, and for once, you understood the charm of the holiday. You both had dressed up for a nice dinner at home, sharing a bottle of wine and genuinely enjoying each other’s company. The night ended with your nice clothes on the bedroom floor and blooming hickeys glowing under the bright sunshine the next morning.

But now you were alone, and that familiar feeling of dread lingered in the pit of your stomach throughout the whole holiday.

With your knees tucked under your chin and your hands holding a blanket against your body, you sat on your couch watching Golden Girls re-runs. You had a bowl of popcorn you made about an hour ago on the coffee table, but it was abandoned after a few bites. That pit in your stomach made you feel nauseous, too nauseous to eat.

You didn’t know what time it was exactly, but you knew it was late from the absence of light in your apartment, excluding the small glimmer of moonlight shining in through your window and the show flickering on your TV.

You really couldn’t place why you were so devastated that day. Of course, you knew you felt alone and you were dwelling on the old memories you shared with Spencer. But you had made so much progress in moving on, on not letting him control your life despite his absent presence. You felt as if you had taken ten steps backwards, back to the first few months of coping without him. It was devastating. It was embarrassing.

Earlier in the day, you had even considered buying yourself flowers, just so you could have something else in the apartment to not make you feel so alone. Maybe you’d convince yourself into thinking that Spencer had, in fact, bought them for you, and he was just gone away on a case.

God, you were really losing it.

You were losing it so much, in fact, that you thought you heard a knock on your door.

But then you heard it again.

Your brows furrowed confusedly and you pushed the blanket off your body and turned off the TV before rising to your feet, padding softly over to the door.

You assumed it was Penelope since her frequent visits have not ceased despite the circumstances that took place between two of her best friends. She probably was coming by to comfort you, somehow being able to sense your need for a warm presence and copious amounts of alcohol.

With a huff, you pulled your door open, rubbing your tired eyes. “Penelope, I’m fine, really,” you began before the door even opened fully.

Your words died in your mouth, however, when you fully opened the door.

“Spence?”

A shy smile rested on his face, nervously playing with the strap of his satchel as his eyes searched yours. “Hi,” he spoke. “I was- uh, hoping we could talk, but since Penelope is coming over-”

You shook your head. “She isn’t coming over. I just thought you were her, since she’s the only person that really visits.” You cleared your throat, letting your eyes wander over his form. “You cut your hair.”

A soft blush bloomed across his cheeks, his lips curling up into that small smile that you knew so well. That you loved so much. “I-I did, yeah.”

“It looks nice.” The two of you stood there awkwardly for a beat, both of your minds clearly flooded with anxious thoughts. “You can, uh, come in.”

You stepped away from the door, wandering into the living room and flicking on the lights. You could hear the door shut but avoided looking back, that familiar feeling of dread now shifting into panic.

“Y/N?”

You hummed in response, finally allowing yourself to turn and face him. “Yeah?”

“Can we talk?”

You pursed your lips, averting your gaze to the floor. “Right, that’s, uh, what you’re here for.” After silently gesturing to the couch, you two took a seat, a generous amount of space between you two, and he set his satchel down to seemingly create a barrier (at least, that’s what your mind told you). “What do you want to talk about?”

He shifted in his seat, his gaze set forward on the powered off TV. “These past few days, we were in Pittsburgh for a case. It was a couple, an older couple, who were using murder as a way to work through their relationship issues. To bond.”

You nodded along, a deep line in your forehead as you pondered what all of this was about.

“It just...” He let out a sigh. “It made me wonder if we could’ve been like that.”

You tilted your head slightly. “Murderers?” you hummed.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “If we could’ve grown old together. I-If we could’ve gotten married, bought a house, had kids... Had a normal life.”

You shifted awkwardly, wrapping your arms around your middle. “Spence...”

“Why did you leave?”

You looked up at him and saw that he now had his gaze settled on you. “What?”

“Why did you leave that day? When I went to help the team and you told me you’d stay?” His eyes searched yours. “I... I got home and you were gone. Your key was on the floor.” He sniffled, his lower lip trembling slightly. “It was like I lost you all over again.”

You didn’t know what to say, but you did know that you couldn’t bear seeing Spencer cry. You closed your eyes, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

“I was gonna fix everything. We were gonna be okay.” He let out a shuddering breath.

“You can’t just fix everything, Spence. That’s not how it works.” You let out a sigh, pressing your palms into your closed eyes.

He was silent for a moment. “I wanted to try.”

You couldn’t help but repeat him. “Wanted?”

He chewed on his lower lip, turning to connect his gaze to yours. “I want to try. God, I want to try again so bad.”

It took all of your willpower to refrain from pulling him into your arms, to refrain from giving in. Instead, you reached out and rested your hand atop his. “You don’t know how much I’d love that.” His face lit up, and a small pang resonated in your chest. “But I just don’t know if it’s a good idea. I don’t know if...”

His face fell. “If you can trust me.”

You shook your head vehemently, leaning closer to him. “No, it’s not that. It’s just...” You blinked away a few tears. “Whenever I let my mind wander, I can’t help but think about what could’ve happened if everything didn’t happen. If Maeve was never in the picture, if it was just us for the rest of our lives.”

“Don’t you want that?”

“I do, but when I remember that it never could’ve happened...” A small sob bubbled in your throat. “It hurts to even think of it. Of what could’ve been.” You pulled your hand away to wipe at your cheeks. “And then my mind drifts off to what could’ve happened if Maeve didn’t leave, if you and her stayed together and were a couple. And it just makes me so... angry. It makes me someone I don’t want to be. Someone so full of-of hate, and disdain, and envy.”

“But it didn’t happen. I’m with you. I want to be with you.”

Your hands trembled as you pushed yourself to your feet, beginning to pace the floor. “You don’t understand, Spencer. Now, every time I see you, every time I think of you, it just ends with me hurting and full of so much fucking hate. I hate you, and I hate her, and-” You tried to take a breath, your last words coming out as a weak whisper, “I hate myself for somehow driving you away.” You shoved your face into your hands, shoulders shaking with sobs.

Spencer’s footsteps sounded, growing closer and closer to you until you felt his presence at your side. “A few weeks ago, JJ was kidnapped and tortured. We found her in time, but that whole time that we were looking for her, I couldn’t help but think about what happened last year. And that was the first time I really, truly let myself think about what happened.” He cleared his throat, gently taking your tear-soaked hands into his. “And I realized that you were the only one who was there for me. The girl whose life I ruined was the person who went out of their way to save me. And I’m so selfish and stupid for not realizing that at all. God, I have an IQ of 187 but I’m the dumbest fucking person I know for not realizing that the best thing I had was right in front of me.”

“Spencer-”

“And then I threw everything away, and I hope you never forgive me for that, because I will never forgive myself for it. My selfishness and idiocy have landed us in a position that I will never fix, and you’ve made it clear that it can’t be fixed. But my selfishness won’t let me accept it, and that’s why I'm here. That’s why I’m begging you to give me another chance, knowing damn well that I don't deserve it. And it’s my own selfishness for making you relive all of it just so I can ask. But I can’t just let you go, no matter how hard how I try.”

You couldn’t fathom a single word to respond to him with, so you just stepped forward, your gaze locked on his as you stood just centimeters apart, your breath mingling with his. “Do you think... Do you think that we’ll ever be okay again?”

He squeezed your hands, his eyes searching yours. “I don't know, but I hope we will be some day.”

“I want to try, Spence. I really do. I’m just scared.”

He nodded, bumping his nose with yours. “We can take it slow.”

You pursed your lips, but a small smile tugged at the corners. “Okay.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded, and before you could even breathe out another word, Spencer’s lips were on yours, his fingers drifting away from your hands so they could cup your cheeks.

In a moment, it felt as if nothing had changed. It felt as though it was any other night, the two of you spending a night together after a case, just enjoying the other’s company and allowing yourselves to melt into each other. Each of his touches rang so familiar, his lips gliding against yours as if they had never left.

You were finally able to move your hands after a few moments, allowing your fingers to glide through his hair and relish in the feeling that you hadn't experienced for a year.

It ended all too quickly when Spencer pulled his lips from yours, his panting breath fanning across your face as his eyes slowly fluttered open. You let out a small hum of protest, craning forward for a moment before snapping back into the moment, reminding yourself not to push it.

“What’s wrong?” you questioned, your tongue darting out to wet your lips.

“I-um,” Spencer began, letting out a small chuckle. “I just remembered I brought something for you.”

You tilted your head, reluctantly letting your touch fall away from him as he turned to rifle through his satchel. A moment later he stood up and turned to you, a crooked smile on his face and a wilting bundle of red poppies clutched in his hands.

“I wanted to hide them so it’d be a surprise, but they didn’t really stay intact.”

Your lower lip quivered, reaching out and taking the bouquet in your hands. “You got me flowers?” you choked out, fawning over the flowers before shifting your gaze to him.

He nodded, shifting nervously from foot to foot. “I-In western cultures, red poppies usually symbolize consolation and peace. In eastern cultures, though, they symbolize love and success.” He chewed on his lower lip. “I figured both interpretations would fit well.”

“They’re beautiful.” Sniffling, you set the bundle down on the coffee table before taking his hand in yours. “I... I don’t really know what to say.”

He squeezed your hand and wrapped his free arm around your waist, pulling you close to him. “Happy Valentine’s day.” Silently, his eyes flickered from your lips before returning them to your own. “I... I lo-”

Before he could get the words out, words that you were too fearful to utter yourself, you pressed your lips to his once more. he let out a surprised hum, the hand around your waist gripping tightly onto you and searching for a silver of bare skin.

You pulled your hand from his and gripped onto his hair once more, your other hand quickly working at the buttons of his shirt. Your initiative quickly spurred Spencer forward, his hands moving under your top and gliding against your skin.

This was a bad idea. A horrible idea. But God, you’d be lying if you didn’t want it so bad.

So much for going slow.

***

This February 15th ended up appearing the same as the last, with clothes strewn about the apartment, scattered throughout in the same messy way that hickeys tattered your skin and Spencer’s.

His hands were still on your bare skin when you woke, the sun shining through the pale curtains.

What was new was the heavy feeling of dread, settling so deeply into the pit of your stomach you could’ve sworn that you felt your tummy distending.

It seemed that your worries were so loud that they woke Spencer up, as a small groan left his lips and he shifted against your back. Immediately you leveled out your breath, letting your eyes flutter closed so you appeared to still be sleeping.

Gently, his fingers caressed your upper arm, his lips pressing kisses against the goosebumps left in the wake of his fingers. You tried with all your might to keep your breath from hitching, but you couldn't decide if it was because you didn’t want him to stop or if you were too nervous to discuss the actions that took place the night before. Probably both.

Spencer’s fingers had abandoned your arm, instead moving to brush your hair away from your neck and attach his lips to the junction between your neck and shoulder. At that moment your body had betrayed you as a soft moan had tumbled from your lips.

He chuckled against your skin, his hand snaking around your waist and resting against your sternum, fingers splaying out and pulling you close to him. “Good morning, love,” he hummed, his nose nudging under your chin and prompting you to turn your head to look at him.

Your eyes latched onto his gaze, and it was clear that your emotions were translating very clearly through your expressions as he slowly loosened his grip on you. “Spencer,” you sighed.

“What’s wrong?”

You worried on your lower lip, trying to figure out what to say. Finally, you pushed yourself out of his grasp and swung your legs over the side of the bed, eyes searching the wall as if it held all the answers.

Spencer scooted forward, one hand reaching out to trace along your spine while his other arm propped himself up. “Y/N?”

“I thought we were gonna go slow,” you whispered, turning your head to look over your shoulder at him.

“Did... Did you not want to have sex last night?” A look of worry began to settle on his features, and you could basically see all of the panicked thoughts whirring around in his head.

“No, no. I mean, yes, but it’s not that.” You huffed out through your nose. “I just feel like... Like my decision-making skills are impaired, especially when I’m around you. Like all sense goes out the window and I just want to be with you, but it’s not good for either of us to rush into it so quickly.”

He nodded, his gaze dropping to the bedsheets. “I’m sorry.”

You reached out, hand cupping his jaw and tilting his chin up to look at you. “It’s not your fault. I just think that...”

“That we need to take things slower from now on.”

“Exactly.” You gave him a small smile, one that he returned. “Maybe we can start going on dates again, work back up to where we were bef-” You stopped yourself from finishing the word, though you could tell that Spencer knew exactly what you were going to say.

Before Maeve.

With a final nod, you both were silent, moving out of bed to get dressed. Once you were dressed in a baggy shirt and sleep shorts and Spencer was clad in last night’s clothes, he turned to you once more. “Y/N?” he spoke, sliding his satchel over his shoulder.

“Yeah?” you hummed, letting your gaze fall onto his.

“Can I...” He stepped forward, toe to toe. “Can I kiss you?”

You let out a sigh. “Spence-”

“I just, I need to kiss you one last time. Then we can go back to the beginning.” His eyes were begging, his hands itching to touch you. “Please.”

You weighed your options. On one hand, you didn’t know the next time you’d have the chance to kiss him, and you already were craving your next fix. On the other hand, though, you were worried that it would make it exponentially more difficult to start over after being reminded of how his lips felt against yours.

Wordlessly, you stepped forward and threw caution to the wind.

#Spencer reid #Spencer Reid imagine #Spencer Reid x reader #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid smut #Spencer Reid fluff #Spencer Reid series #dr spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #Matthew gray gubler #Matthew gray gubler x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #Spencer Reid fanfic #Spencer Reid fic #dr reid

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shhhlikeme · 4 years

Note

Hello! I want to start off by saying you’re really pretty and your writing is amazing 🥺👉👈 Could I request a oneshot where the s/o of either Yamaguchi or Suga (which ever you prefer they are both my babies) get into an argument and the s/o ends up flinching out of habit during it, and maybe some cute fluff at the end?

Sugawara Koshi x Reader Angst Fluff !!!!

———————————

A/N: Hello! EYEEE want to start off by saying im blushing thank you angel💖💖💖 of course you can. Request anytime I’m all ears and keyboard taps!

This is super fluffy so I hope you like it!!!!

Yams is my favourite but I haven’t written a Suga story yet and I have a little crush on him so I’ll pick him, yay! (Also, Suga’s voice actor in the dub sounds so attractive to me ugh)

———————————

“Hey baby!” You walked into your boyfriend’s room that his parents let you into. You flicked the lights on.

can we all collectively agree that Suga’s parents are some Queen Elsa & Jack Frost looking mfs?!

Surprised because you didn’t tell him you were stopping by, Sugawara’s eyes lit up when he saw you

“Y/N, what are you doing here?” He scrambled off his bed to you, giving you a chaste kiss.

You can’t tell anyone this, but Suga’s parents secretly invited you because they have been worried about their son

From their perspective, Suga came home everyday seemingly drained and depressed

He would mutter a hello to his parents, go straight to his room and lock the door

You didn’t know this, because your boyfriend was completely normal with you and with his friends from school

He was his regular cheeky self that you loved

But you couldn’t deny his parents anything and you wanted to see your baby so you agreed to come over one night after school to kind of “catch him in this act” that his parents described

You scanned your handsome boy’s face and it made you frown

He did looked drained. That’s not normal considering school had been out for maybe an hour and you just saw him during last period looking chipper.

He had lines under his eyes and his shoulders were slumped/lower than usual. Not to mention his eyes betrayed him because they looked like someone who was really going through it, even though you could see that his spirits lifted with your entry

You didn’t say anything, opting to poke his stomach instead and smile up at him

for someone’s whose weak spot is his ticklish tummy, the joy from his laugh didn’t reach his eyes whole heartedly like they normally did

You tested one last time.

“I made you tempura, just the way you like it,” You placed the wrapped dinner plate you bagged on his dresser, gauging his reaction.

Koshi appeared like he was a stage actor when he gave you a big smile and said thanks.

Your heart immediately sank then, because you knew his parents had been telling the truth.

There was something wrong with your Koshi. Very wrong.

Ok. Here goes.

You turned around to lock his room door and took his hand

You gestured for him to crawl back into bed which he seemed genuinely happy about.

You straddled his waist, sitting in a position where he couldn’t hide his face from you nor could he escape when this questioning started

“Uh oh. You only sit on me like this when you want “to talk.”

You nodded. He knew.

Your boyfriend liked talking about his feelings but not when they could potentially bring down the mood of others.... and with this specific circumstance where he was able to hide his sadness from you so well, you had no choice but to jump straight into playing hardball.

“Shishi.” You used the embarrassing pet name you made for him and he slightly blushed.

Marry him, aight?

“Yeah? You okay? I’m listening baby tell me.” He looked at you with his shining eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

Suga didn’t miss a beat. He was well rehearsed. “Wait—me? This talk is about me? Nothing. Why do you ask?”

“Well why are you laying in your bed with the lights off at 4pm? You’re usually doing your school work at this time. That’s what you text me.”

Suga sighed. “I was just tired today, that’s all.”

“Shishi.....”

“Y/N, baby. trust me I’m fi-“

“Is it about volleyball?”

Koshi sat up quickly, cradling your back to make sure you were safe. He scooted backwards, making it so his back was leaning on his headboard.

“Can I please put you next to me?” He asked.

You mentally noted that he didn’t answer the question.

And that he wanted to get out of this “truth spell” position

So it was about volleyball. You ignored his question back and pushed forward.

“Did something happen? Is Daichi injured again? Or is Ukai quitting—“

Suga locked his jaw, looking away from you. “No no. It’s not that— I’m fine. I’m good.”

You couldn’t tell who he was trying to convince more: you? Or himself?

You pushed a bit further.

“Tomorrow is your Senior game, right? You, Asahi, Daichi and Kiyoko will be awarded for the years you put in, right?”

Suga, looking pained, gently moved you off his lap to sit next to him. He got out of bed and paced the room. You knew you were about to crack him but you weren’t too concerned because he needed to let whatever this was out. It’s bad enough that your baby was having such internal conflict like this. It was depressing him and he was dealing with it all by himself.

You stared at him and moved to sit up on your knees, prepared to deal the final blow.

“Are you sad about not playing, Shishi?”

The volcano that Sugawara had been trying so hard to keep in finally erupted at your words.

“SAD?! Am I sad?!” He practically roared at you loudly.

You flinched because it was the first time you have ever heard your boyfriend raise his voice in anger, let alone at you. You remember that he told you he’d only shown his team that side of him once during a game and they were shook, rightfully so. He was kind of scary like this.

“YES I’m sad! But mostly, I’M PISSED! EVERYONE expects me to walk on stage tomorrow and accept an award I had no part in contributing to?! I have been on this team for 3 years, 2 of those years as a starting setter and those two years accounted for bullshit seasons for Karasuno. The one year I sat my ass on the bench is the year we WIN! The year the crows got their wings back I AM SITTING OUT! No one wants to admit it but what the fuck does that tell you, me, and everyone, huh?! It tells us that I was the problem. I was the broken part: the gear that caused the machine to malfunction. The gear that Kageyama came in and fixed—2 years my junior. I’m pathetic, you know?! How many captains sitbon the fucking bench while I watch my best friends play the sport we all love equally? Then I have to walk around all day pretending I don’t feel this way because I am too busy stopping Kageyama and Hinata from pummelling eachother, telling Tsukishima to stop being so mean, mitigating Yamaguchi and Ashai’s panic attacks, Forbidding Tanaka and Noya’s anger issues and the reward I get for all it isn’t the luxury of playing like Daichi who does similar work. I get no reward. I pretend to be happy the Sugawara that I used to be. I’m not happy. The only time I take off that mask off is when I get home and by that time I’m so exhausted from keeping up the facade that staying in the dark until I have to go to school again and put the mask back on is the only way I can cope. So YES I’m fucking sad, Y/N. Sad is an understatement.”

you stayed silent as you listened to every emotionally charged word, letting him catch his breath

Your heart had been shattered around the 4 second mark of his speech, hearing the mental turmoil your baby had been going through in his voice

He was going through all of that pain...

And in spite of it he would still call you every night and listen to you talk about how annoyed you are at your little sister for stealing your shirt

He didn’t change for you because he didn’t want to stress you out and that made you feel like a failure as a girlfriend

After a few minutes of Sugawara calming down, you opened your arms for him invitingly

“Come here.”

Suga looked at you, obviously fighting back tears. Not being able to bare going through it alone anymore, he mounted the bed again, hugging you then maneuvering your bodies so that he was spooning you.

“I saw you flinch. I’m so sorry for scaring you.” He whispered as he kissed the back of your hair. “I love you. So so much, Y/N.”

You reached back to run a hand soothingly against the side of his face. You felt wet tears there and you repeated the soothing gesture. “I love you more, Shishi.....” You backed up so you were pressed closer to his warm body, reinforcing the fact that you weren’t going anywhere. “And Shishi when you’re ready... I can’t wait to tell you all the reasons why you’re the team’s and my....MVP, alright?”

Sugawara nodded into your hair before tightening his grasp on you.

———————————

A/N: This is probably the post I’ve written that is the most realistic in terms of cannon character sentiment. As an ex competitive volleyball player I believe this is truly how Suga feels :( at least youre there to cheer him up!!

#haikyuu boys #haikyuu!!#hq sugawara #hq headcanons #haikyuu headcannons #sugawara koshi #sugawara x reader #haikyuu fluff #fluff #haikyuu stories #haikyuu scenarios #haikyu requests #sugawara x you #sugawara headcanon #sugawara x y/n #haikyuu sfw

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fritae · 3 years

Text

The Missing Piece - Ch 10

Worries 🌸

gang! au / ceo! au

characters: dabi x f. oc, lov

status: ongoing

read on ao3 here.

I spend hours turning in bed, replaying Dabi's words to me earlier.

He cares about me.

Right?

That's the only way I could interpret what happened. He got angry on my behalf, even though he didn't look it.

My cheeks redden as I recall how warm he was to hold, despite most certainly being the most awkward hugger I've ever met. I wrap my arms around myself, trying to remember what it was like.

It wasn't a short hug...but I wish it was longer.

Snap out of it, I tell myself with a groan.

I'm so touch starved I can't believe a hug from Dabi would make me feel this way.

I jolt in bed when I hear the front door open.

"Aliyah?"

Within moments, my suite mate bursts into my room, jumping onto my bed.

"Who is he?!" She screams with glee. "That's your boss?!"

My heart paced with excitement. "Yeah. Nice, right?"

"Nice?!" She jumps up again. "He's so hot - but something about him -"

She suddenly stops.

"What?" I ask her cautiously.

But after a few moments of consideration, she shrugs. "I don't know, forget it. I feel like I've seen him before."

I shrug. "Might have run into him at a corporate event or something? The company may not be all that but Dabi looks like he's been around."

She nods. "You're right, that's probably it. And oh my god," Her voice picks up, that excitement creeping in again. "Mr. Lane's face! He's so pissed you don't even know, oh my god, he's probably still fuming! He didn't even last for the whole dinner, he called his new secretary and told her to run a background check on Mr. Dabi and the company."

"He's a psycho," I laughed. But then a troubling thought occurred to me. "But he wouldn't do anything to the company, would he?"

Aliyah shrugs. "Beats me. You can never tell with Mr. Lane."

I shake the thought out of my head. Choosing to focus on the good (and the fact that Aliyah is here early for once!), I eagerly share what life has been like for me at the Blaze. I leave out certain details of course, especially those conferencing Dabi and company intel, but I'm overjoyed by Al's interest.

And when we finally say goodnight, hours after we were supposed to, I lay in bed again - already thinking of tomorrow.

- --

"Dabi won't be in today," Tenko tells me in the morning.

I pout.

"Why not?"

He shrugs. "He told me and Jin to put a pause on new intake for the next few days so I don't think there's much to do, either. Honestly, if you want to go home from now, you probably can."

He didn't ask for any updates or give me instructions this morning either. I thought maybe he was waiting for me to come in to let me know what we'd be doing today.

He said he'd see me tomorrow, I remember. I try not to feel disheartened. He's a CEO, after all.

It's just...I was looking forward to seeing him today.

"You gonna go?" Tenko snaps me out of my thoughts.

"Oh," I say apologetically. "Nah, I'm used to being here all day. I'll try to make myself useful somehow."

I leave him and head for Dabi's office and go through his correspondence, rescheduling any meetings he would have had today or tomorrow for later in the week. If he isn't in the office today, he'll likely want to be briefed whenever he comes in. He won't be in the mood for a meeting.

Hours and hours pass as I spend my time overlooking the company employees and making a record of potential clients.

After I finish a few late night phone calls for Dabi and make notes of the most urgent things he should know when he comes in tomirrow, I decide to go find the others.

But when I walk into the lounge, the only ones I find are Atushiro and Toga. They're huddled together on the couch, talking in hushed tones.

It is pretty late at night. Perhaps they went home already.

"Hey guys," I say with a smile, carrying a few sodas with me. Immediately, they sit back and put some distance between them.

"Hey," Toga says. They accept the sodas with a smile.

"What've you been up to?" I ask them. I pop open my can. "It feels like there isn't much to do today."

"Why do you sound upset about that?" Atsuhiro comments with a laugh.

I get flustered at that. "I know, I know. I'm a workaholic. I don't know what to do with my life outside of work."

"Go home!" Toga says with a groan. "You've done more than enough today! Dabi specifically didn't give us work and you're over here doing extra."

I groan. "I don't want to go home though, what would I do?"

They both laugh. "Normal people things! Watch a show, paint your nails, order Chinese - you know, hashtag self care or whatever."

I roll my eyes, stalling for time. I don't know why, I just don't feel like going home just yet.

I put my phone down and lay back on the couch.

"Maybe I'll just stay here."

"Go home!" They shout.

I laugh and put my legs down.

"How come you guys aren't going home?"

The two of them share a look.

"We have things to take care of later tonight." Atsuhiro says.

That makes me sit up. "Ooh what kind of things? For Dabi?"

He nods.

I feel a pang in my chest. Why did he give them something to do and not me?

But they've been here longer, I try to reason with myself. They're friends and partners. He's known them for years. If anything urgent comes up, of course they'd be the ones he reaches out to.

I think quickly. "Is he coming in later or something?"

Toga hits me. "No, he isn't. Are you trying to find an excuse to do more work?"

I shake my head with a laugh, but I secretly feel...disappointed. It's not that I want more work, I just...was hoping to see him. Work just happens to be the only way I can do so.

Of course he isn't coming in later, though. It's already 10pm. Most of the company clocked out hours ago. And he undoubtedly has things to do if he hasn't come in.

He didn't even have time to respond to my text.

"Okay," I sigh in defeat. The two high five each other, and I pout as they lead me downstairs.

"I'll be back tomorrow," I tell them quickly as I leave. "If you guys need anything at all, just shoot me a text!"

"We'll be good, don't worry about us!" They wave.

I shove my hands in my pockets and make my way to the bus stop.

They'd text me, right?

But something dawns on me just before I get to the bus.

I freeze, my fingers digging around.

But there's nothing.

I pat all around me and check my purse for good measure.

"Shit, I forgot my phone!

I quickly run back to the Blaze.

---

I enter the marble doors again, only for some reason there's something different in the air.

As I make my way upstairs, I hear a murmur of activity. There's a frown on my face as I try to figure out what is going on.

I head up to the lounge, but this time it is empty and the lights are all off.

The only sounds come from Dabi's office at the end of the hall.

Is something wrong? I wonder with a frown.

I make my way to his office, my heart pounding in place.

With a single knock, I turn the knob. And my heart falls as I lock eyes with Dabi sitting behind his desk.

Dabi immediately sighs, rubbing his eyes in exhaustion. "Shit."

"What's going on here?" I ask.

Standing around him are Tenko, Jin, Toga and Atsuhiro, the last two staring back at me with wide eyes.

No one answers me.

I look from one face to another.

Eventually Dabi looks up at Jin, an unforgiving glare in his eyes. "What the fuck happened to she left?"

Jin shrinks under his gaze. "That's what Toga told me!"

I feel my heart fall. Was he avoiding me?

"Do...you not want me around?" I swallow.

I don't look at him as I ask, afraid of what I might find in his face. So he was. I glance around, hooking my purse on my shoulder and turn around. "Sorry, I just came back because I forgot my phone. I'll- I'll go-"

Dabi pushes his chair back. "Rina, wait-"

But when I look back at him, I gasp.

My hand unconsciously covers my gaping mouth.

"Dabi, you're- you're..."

He's bleeding.

Not a drop or two this time.

But a circle of red adorns his lower left side. He holds a now equally red rag to the area to stop the flow. I look at him in horror but he turns his face away from me.

"Fuck," I hear him mutter through gritted teeth.

"Dabi, what's-" I feel my eyes water.

I immediately run up behind his desk, my hand clutching the one he holds to his wound.

"What's wrong? You're gonna be okay, right? What do I do- we need to take you to a hospital - Toga, help me! You're gonna be okay Dabi, I'm here."

Toga shuffles forward but Dabi glares at her. "I'm not going to a fucking hospital, I'll be fine." I feel bad for the way he yells at her. After all, it was my suggestion. "I just need to stop the bleeding."

I turn back to look at the others, but the lack of shock on their faces stuns me.

"Did you guys know about this?"

Atsuhiro runs his neck and avoids my gaze too. Suddenly the frequent questions about when I'd go home made sense.

"I see." My voice cracking. "Is that why you guys were waiting for me to leave?"

"Well, that NNTV douchebag-"

"Toga!" Dabi growls.

I turn to Dabi, my blood turning to ice. "Does this have something to do with Mr. Lane?"

He ignores me. "Take everyone and leave." He tells Toga. When they don't move immediately, Dabi snaps. "Now."

The team scrambles out the room. If it weren't the circumstance, I'd laugh when Jin stumbled. But as soon as we're alone, I turn back to him and clutch the lapels of his jacket.

"Don't lie to me," I say. "Please Dabi."

The man groans and sits back on his chair, as if there wasn't blood dripping out of his side. I pull up a seat and sit next to him, my hand closing in on his, holding the rag in place.

"We're gonna have issues with Lane," Dabi mutters. "I uh, went to see him today. But...it's like he was expecting me."

"Why would he be expecting you?" My mouth drops. "You mean to tell me Mr. Lane did this to you?"

Dabi sighs.

When he takes to long to reply, I press the rag harder.

"Hey!" He grimaces. "Okay, okay. You know how I told you I have business to take care of on the side?"

"Yes."

"Well. I think he found out a couple things."

I lean in closer. "My friend told me about that! She said he ordered a background check on you, he wanted to know everything."

Dabi shrugs. "Yeah well, if he knows who I am, then he doesn't just have everyday knowledge. He probably deals with shady shit too."

Too?

My heart pounds in fear.

"And who the hell told you to go pay him a visit!" I hit his arm. Dabi immediately groans and I recoil. I cautiously touch his arm. "Sorry."

He shakes his head.

I motion for him to go on as I find a little bowl of water under his desk.

As he talks, I absentmindedly take the rag and rinse it into the bowl. He probably intended to do that himself had I not come in. I squeeze the blood out and just as I am about to press it against his skin, I wince at the sight. The blood was dripping out slowly, meaning the wound wasn't too deep. But that's clearly a stab wound. Dabi got close enough to someone that they were able to pull a knife on him.

What if it had been worse? What if I had lost him today?

"Dabi," I interrupt him. He looks down at me, the blue in his eyes could be green in this light. I softly brush my thumb against the wound. His eyes darken in response, and I feel my heart ache at the way he grabs my hand. "Stop."

"Who told you to go to him, you idiot," I punch his arm again. "What the hell were you thinking."

He grips both my hands now. "I had to send a message."

"What kind of stupid message was worth this?"

"Now he knows not to mess with my people." Dabi replies. My eyes go wide.

I'm part of his people.

The thought brings a blush to my cheeks and I get angry at myself. Look where that got him.

If he is like this after hearing one conversation between me and Mr. Lane...

"Besides..."

I wipe my eyes into my elbow.

"He probably won't be taking any more cars for a while now," Dabi smirks. "If that guy of his didn't pop up out of nowhere.."

He leaves that open ended.

Did Dabi really plan on hurting Mr. Lane?

The thought sends a shudder down my spine.

Just who was Dabi.

What did Mr. Lane find?

"Were you going to..." I whisper. "..you know."

Dabi looks completely nonchalant, as if he had gone to leave Mr. Lane flowers or something.

"I was just gonna scare him." He says, and despite everything, it sounds honest. "Sure, he didn't think I'd go that far. But I miscalculated too. Now I gotta fuck him up before he tries to fuck me up."

I swallow. Is this what Dabi meant by information comes with a cost over here?

"I'm sorry Dabi," I tell him, my tears falling over my now bloody hands. "I didn't want you speaking to Mr. Lane and if I-"

"Relax," Dabi cuts me off. "I'm going to make use of that guy. I'm just trying to find the right moment."

I let go of the rag.

"You can't be possibly planning on seeing him again."

Dabi doesn't respond.

The tears start to fall again. "You promised me I wouldn't need to worry about you," I say, my voice getting shakier and shakier. "You said goodbye and see you tomorrow, knowing you were fucking going to Mr. Lane today!"

Dabi looks at the door in alarm, and his eyes narrow. He grabs the hand I'm waving in his face and I could tell his patience was running thin. "Rina, I'm trying here. If you saw what Mr. Lane looks like now you wouldn't be so worried about me. But I'm gonna need you to lower your voice."

I turn my face away from him and wipe the tears from under my eyes. Dabi suddenly gives me a weird look and I glance at my hands.

Fuck.

I grab a napkin and rub the blood off my face until I can wash it off later.

He watches me cautiously. I don't meet his eyes as I take the rag off to rinse it again.

"Stop moving," I mutter, lightly dabbing his skin with the wet cloth.

Dabi hisses.

"Sorry. Does it hurt?"

Dabi groans. "I can take care of myself, you know."

"Just...shut up. Stop moving so much."

Dabi grows silent.

For the next half hour, I continue my ministrations, avoiding his gaze. I know having me so close to him makes him slightly uncomfortable. But I don't care.

"Take off your shirt," I tell him once the bleeding seems to stop. "I'll try to wrap it up."

"No."

I look at him, my eyes ever more hurt.

"No," He repeats, his voice more stern. "I'll do it myself later."

Without thinking, I lean against him and close my arms around his torso.

"I know you keep saying not to worry but what am I supposed to do when you walk in looking like this?" I whisper against his chest.

He looks up at the ceiling, trying to hold his breath.

"You've gotta stop doing that, princess."

My heart beats faster.

"Or what?" I challenge him, hugging him tighter.

He glances at my lips ever so briefly and looks away.

"You'll fuck me up."

I ignore him and hug him anyway, not caring about the stains that undoubtedly cover my shirt now.

I don't know long we stay that way.

Dabi doesn't hug me back this time...but he doesn't move away either.

I wish I could know what he was thinking. What he means by Mr. Lane knowing who he is, and what uses he may have for him. What he did to him today and how he was able to slip free.

But every day, I discover that more and more secrets exist between us.

#dabi #todoroki touya #dabi fanfic #dabi fic #dabi angst #dabi x oc #dabi fluff #dabi x female reader #touya fluff #bnha fic #touya todoroki #mha #mha fic #league of villains #anime #anime fanfiction

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gryfon-spanish-werewolf · 3 years

Text

The Choice - Part 2

Part 2 of my elsanna Hulder/Valkyrie au :D I know I said I’d make them 1-1.5k but I guess my sweet spot is 2-3k ¯\_(^^;)_/¯ Good for y’all

I highly recommend reading Chapter 1 and/or the original concept for context because this chapter picks up EXACTLY where we left off. And I do mean exactly. ao3 and ff.net links are up too!

Shout out to @like-red-lads again for indulging me in the concept, @giuliaciulia89 bc I know you’ve been waiting patiently for this one, and a quick spike for @snowmanmelting since you asked ever so politely for a notification of publishing 💖

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

The woman who still crouched naked in the water leveled a glare at the Valkyrie. “What do you mean you don’t know?”

Anna felt like someone had wedged the padding of her armor directly into her skull. Her thoughts zipped too and fro, bouncing off the sides while whatever still sane part of her brain jumped desperately in the middle, trying to grab even one coherent thought.

Who are you? Well that’s easy, I’m Anna, the Valkyrie! Wait no, no, I can’t say that, humans that are still alive can’t know that.

What are you doing here? So funny story - I felt like I needed to be here and find you and I know why but I can't tell you or you won’t believe me, or maybe worse you will believe me and then we’re still stuck because-

Life or Death?

This question was causing the most trouble. Anna felt the answer gallop up her throat again, only for it to wilt and corkscrew off somewhere else as it neared the tip of her tongue. It leaped up her legs and tornado’d around her insides like a rock trapped in a gale, bruising everything it touched, but still it didn’t make itself known to her. It was a pressure, the kind that rattled the lid of a pot over-boiling above the cookfire.

Anna shook her head, feeling more than a little dizzy. The remaining part of her brain that was still running around for a legitimate answer grew tired as well and sat down, which prompted Anna to do the same, plopping down onto the rock below her feet in an unceremonious heap. The woman across from her flinched.

“I guess I mean,” Anna replied slowly as she crossed her arms over her chest, “that I really don’t know. And that’s never happened before.”

The woman narrowed her eyes suspiciously. “Which part?”

“All of them. Oh!” Anna pounded her fist into her palm. “Except the first question, I can answer that one. I’m Anna!” She grinned broadly, just like she had for the warrior in the battlefield. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“I wish I could say the same,” the woman groused, “but considering the circumstances, you will have to forgive me for not feeling the same.”

“It’s certainly odd,” Anna mused aloud, putting her chin in her hand. She missed the other woman’s exasperated expression entirely. “Today started out so normal but now everything is strange.”

“That I can agree with.”

“I know!” Anna threw her arms out. “First there was the fight, then my plans changed without warning and I miss my ride home, then I stumble-sprint through the forest following your voice and now you’re talking to me and--!” Anna pulled up short.

She was having a conversation with a human.

A live human.

Which meant…

“Hey, this is going to sound like a trick question but, you can see me, right?”

The woman blinked, a furrow deepening between her brows. “That… does seem like a trick question.” Anna waited patiently, and saw the moment the other woman realized she would have to answer: a defeated drop of her shoulders. “Yes. Yes I can see you.”

“Oh good!” Anna chirped. “I mean uh, not good, actually,” she frowned and looked to the side, thinking. “Well not baaaad.” Anna bobbed her hands in front of her, as though physically weighing the implications on a scale. “Just… unexpected, y’know?”

The look on the blonde’s face told Anna that she did not, in fact, know.

“I… can imagine that thinking you can’t be seen, only to be seen, would be… unexpected,” was the diplomatic reply.

But Anna had already retreated back into her own head, her mini-me having rested long enough to start picking up the pieces and sorting them into piles. Piles of Normal, piles of Weird, and piles of Highly Irregular.

Being seen by a living human was definitely Highly Irregular.

Maybe something had gone wrong with the magic today, or by leaving the company of her sisters the cloaking spell had frayed and broken with distance. Regardless, if this woman did not suspect Anna’s true nature, then she supposed it wasn’t a big deal. She still had the largest issue at hand anyway.

Again the Choice stirred under the skin of her palms, racing past her funny bone in a jolt and stinging the junction of shoulder and neck before disappearing like a snuffed candle.

“Any update on that second part,” a voice startled Anna from her thoughts, “or are we free to move on with our lives?” The woman in the water had started to shiver, goosebumps covering her arms and legs.

“I’m sorry!” Anna jumped up and reached out. “Here, let me help you up.”

The blonde looked at her hand like it was a poisonous snake. “I’m more than capable of getting out myself, thank you.” Her gaze flicked back up to Anna’s, “Especially because you won’t tell me why you’re here. Or you can’t remember, which I can’t say is any better.”

“Oh, right, well…” Anna withdrew her hand and rubbed the back of her neck instead. “I’ll let you do that then.”

A beat passed before something seemed to click in the woman’s brain. “You’re just going to stand there?”

“Huh? Yeah?” Anna cocked her head, “I mean, we’re both women.”

“We’re also strangers,” the woman responded, grinding the final word between her teeth.

“Sure but, it’s not a big deal, I’ve seen plenty of naked women.”

This time it was the blonde who blushed, making her hair stand out more starkly against her reddened skin. “Right,” she said flatly. “Be that as it may, if you’re so determined to stay I’d prefer it if you at least turned around.”

“I… of course. If it makes you more comfortable.” Anna spun on her heel, her back to the water. Throughout their conversation, the strength of the tugging had ebbed, less a riptide and more a kitten batting at a string of yarn, pulling against the middle vertebrae of her spine.

If the woman replied it was lost in the swoosh and splatter of water as she moved from the middle of the stream to the bank. Anna heard the droplets of water splash onto the rocks below, sometimes more, sometimes less. Perhaps she was wringing out her hair.

“Don’t peek,” the woman scolded.

“I wasn’t going to!”

“Prove it. Close your eyes.”

Anna nearly turned around to answer in spite, but caught herself and set her eyes straight into the trees. “I’m already facing away from you, isn’t closing my eyes a little much?” But Anna did as she was told.

“No,” came the muffled reply, as though the woman had turned away from her, also. There was a ruffle of cloth and the sounds of dressing, the clasp of a belt and the slide of shoes.

And then there was the knife.

It was nearly impossible for someone of Anna’s age and battle prowess to mistake the sound of a blade leaving it’s sheathe. And even if she had, the tether pressing against her back suddenly ignited - combusting, roaring and leaping against her like a brush fire.

In a heartbeat Anna whirled around, knees bent and legs spread apart. The woman stood before her a few feet away, now dressed, though water still dripped from her legs and soaked the fabric of her dress at the collar. Between them was a hunting knife, pointed at Anna’s heart.

“You’re armed!?” Anna blurted out.

“Isn’t everyone?” The woman called back, gesturing with the tip of the knife to Anna’s waist before aiming right back at her center. “And so are you, by the way.”

“Yes but that’s because I’m--!” Anna clapped a hand over her mouth in the nick of time. She couldn’t just say she was a Valkyrie, there had to be some kind of rule against that.

“A warrior, I know.” The woman scoffed. Anna swore for a moment her eyes flashed like the glint of sea rime at dawn but it was gone just as fast. “Come from the battle up the hill have you? Is that why you won’t tell me what you’re doing here, you’re not sure whose side I’m on? Whether I’ll run away from you or into your arms? Or are you a deserter? Tucking your tail between your legs and winding up here, caught without a backup plan?”

“Yes! No. What? Absolutely not. A-And no! In that order!” Anna straightened, rubbing a hand on her temple. Her head was starting to ache, not just from the situation (which was already far, far beyond what she’d ever imagined), but from the strain of the pull on her body. Never had it lasted so long or been so overwhelming. It trod up her sternum and into her throat, dancing along the edges of her jaw. Anna ground the heel of her forward foot into the rock below, needing to physically restrain herself from walking forward. The woman noticed her shift in posture and took a half step back. “Yes, I came from the battle,” Anna said, taking a deep breath. “But not because I was involved in it. I came here because… because I needed to find you. Because I heard you singing.”

Well that was true enough, Anna thought to herself. “Who lives and who dies is important to me,” she continued, finding her way through the half truths that would have to bear her along, like stepping stones made from clouds. “But equally important is that those who are not destined for combat are spared. That those whose lives are decided by other things are not drawn into battle needlessly.”

The woman knelt slowly, keeping her front towards Anna at all times while retrieving a bag from behind a rock. She slung it over her shoulder before speaking. “Oh, so you are a judge, too,” she said icily. “Well then decide. But bear in mind - your choice is not the only one guiding my fate today.”

Decide. Choose.

The words barked in Anna's head, bayed like hounds on the scent. The Choice bore down on her again, like the stones that crushed guilty men, one on top of another.

“My name is Anna,” she said gravely, drawing upon the power with which she made Choices before the war drums had even played their first beat.

“Part one,” the woman counted, standing tall.

“I came here to solve a mystery, to find whomever was at the end of a string… a song.”

“Part two…”

Anna felt it, the Choice zinging up her arm, raising the hairs on her neck, feeling the thrum of her heart in her chest. It was time.

“And I choose... to let you go.”

Silence passed between them, and then the woman frowned, the tip of her knife dropping just slightly. “What?”

“I mean, I never meant to keep you here, and I’m sorry that you felt threatened.” Anna placed as much compassion as she could muster into her words, which was quite a lot. One didn’t get good at comforting dead souls by being callous for hundreds of years. Besides, this woman was only human, and if there was a problem with Choosing, that wasn’t her folly but Anna’s, and something she needed to investigate on her own. “You must live somewhere nearby?” Anna coaxed. “The village southwest of here perhaps, down the hills? I’m sure they’ll be happy to see you safe. I won’t tell anyone you were here, just in case. But it’s not safe to stick around. You should go back home.”

“Home…” The word fell oddly from the blonde’s lips. “Yes I-, I’ll do that.”

Anna rocked back on her heels, hands settling genially on her hips. Despite the draw she still felt between her and this woman, it was manageable now. She wasn’t sure what she was going to tell her fellow Valkyries about this, but she’d cross that bridge when she came to it.

“If it’s all the same to you,” the woman said, interrupting Anna’s thoughts, “I’ll wait until you leave. You’ve made yourself more trustworthy than you first appeared, but I’d not like to take chances.”

Anna smiled despite the scrutiny. “Well I was going to offer to walk you home, but you seem like you can take care of yourself. That knife has hardly lowered once.”

“I think that’s a genuine compliment, for which I’ll say, ‘thank you’.” The flicker of a smile came and went in the dappled sunlight across the woman’s face, so quickly Anna almost missed it. “Don’t take this the wrong way… Anna,” the woman spoke as Anna began walking back into the forest, “but I hope I never see you again.”

The Valkyrie’s heart trilled at the use of her name, even as sadness dampened it’s cheer. It was entirely possible they’d never meet again. Perhaps on the next morn, battle long over, Anna would wake and the pull would disappear completely. Freed from the burden of Choice until it came around next time, for someone new. Though, Anna hadn’t been lying when she said she’d arrived following a mystery. And mysteries hated going unsolved.

But for now she trudged through the trees back toward the hill, throwing a last hand over her shoulder in farewell.

With each step the tug grew lighter and lighter - a snag, a tap, a whisper across the room, until finally it was only noticeable if she concentrated.

Clear frost filigree inside a spyglass.

------

Elsa waited until the Valkyrie was long out of sight. She sheathed her knife only when birdsong came back to the wood, and with that movement went the last of her strength.

She fell to her hands and knees, trembling.

A Valkyrie. A Valkyrie had come looking for her.

In all her years, all her centuries of life, Elsa had never been so close to one. She knew who they were and to whom they were sworn. What they dedicated their life to. Reaping souls for the glory of another war and leaving the rest to rot.

Elsa breathed heavily, her brave and icy façade melting as her lungs begged for air to quell the panic in her heart. She’d made a mistake reacting to the Valkyrie's presence, even if it had been a genuine surprise. Humans couldn’t see Valkyries, and if Elsa wanted to remain hidden, she needed to keep pretending she was human.

But the Valkyrie… Anna..., had seemed distracted too. Something had been bothering her, or maybe even hurting her.

Yet she’d been armed, and knew how to use the sword at her hip. She was a woman who decided whether a person would continue on to see the sunset or not.

Even though she’d been kind, Elsa had not been willing to take the risk.

Elsa’s jaw clenched, her hands forming fists, drawing lines in the sand and loose dirt of the riverbank. She’d been clumsy but she hadn’t been caught. Her secret was safe, for now. The Valkyrie still thought she was nothing but an innocent woman, bathing too close to a battlefield.

She gathered the rest of her things, not that she had many. It was time to disappear and lay low for a while. The song she was singing before came back to her mind, but now it felt tainted so she didn’t even hum. Her malaise showed despite her best efforts however, in the irritable swish and flick of her tail beneath her dress.

That is when she had felt the most terror. Anna had not just come upon her naked in flesh, but in spirit.

Every moment she’d crouched in the water had been eons in her mind. Her muscles still ached with the effort of keeping her tail wound around her calf and ankle. Praying that the Valkyrie would have the modesty not to look, or if she didn’t, to be unable to see through the ripples in the water.

Coupled with the intense need to keep her front to Anna’s at all times, lest she see her back, left Elsa with hardly enough energy to stand.

That’s why Elsa had asked her to close her eyes, even with her back turned. She couldn’t trust the Valkyrie’s word, not when Elsa didn’t know the true reason she’d come. While her lie about following a song hadn’t been entirely false, it certainly wasn’t the whole truth. At least Anna had complied with her request. Elsa wasn’t sure what she’d have done if she hadn’t.

Probably disappear into thin air.

But that would have been more suspicious, and Elsa had known she still had a chance to ward off the preoccupied Valkyrie. Though she’d been successful, that triumph, in its wake, only made her light headed, with nerves so bundled up in her core she felt nauseous.

Elsa checked her surroundings one last time before reaching out in front of her, a little above her head. She felt for a Seam, running the pads of her fingers up and down, along divots and warps until she found one and pulled. An opening appeared before her, like a drape pulled away from a window. Inside the world was muted, duller, quieter.

Elsa took one last breath of fresh air before she stepped inside, feeling the doorway close behind her.

After all, the Hulder did say she’d go home.

#The Choice #The Choice Part 2 #my writing #mythical creature au #Valkyrie!Anna #Hulder!Elsa #elsanna #must I always publish these late at night where they won''t get notes xD #yes the answer is yes #(I'm joking I just always want to publish the moment I'm done and that tends to be late xD)

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