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robininthelabyrinth · 3 years

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Unfettered (aka NHS goes feral) - part 3 - previous parts: on ao3 or tumblr pt 1, pt 2

Lan Xichen had the strangest feeling that something was going to happen.

He wouldn’t pretend that he had a touch of foresight – life had shown him the hard way how completely he lacked any sorts of skill in that direction– and there was nothing altogether unusual about anything that had happened in the past few days of the war. Lan Xichen was helping with so much more now than he had during the Sunshot Campaign, when he’d been able to be a little above it all as a mere courtier or a single but powerful scouting force, thanks in large part to his sect’s then-existing weakness and Nie Mingjue’s utter brilliance. Nowadays he had to deal with the endless drudgery of war administration: the clean-up before and after battles, the mechanics of feeding and supplying all the cultivators in their front lines, planning their next move and the next after that…

Nie Huaisang had received a message and stormed out, looking annoyed, but that wasn’t new, either.

There were many demands on his time, after all. Nie Huaisang might not have much experience at war on a personal basis, having largely (and willingly) been sidelined during the Sunshot Campaign, but he was a sharp study and an excellent judge of people. He managed their generals – selected for merit without any attention to what sect they were from, if any – with an iron fist that rivaled his control over his own disciples, and on top of the war there was also his extensive network of spies, his constant scrutiny of their supply lines, his supervision of internecine disputes between the sects…

The divisions between us will be the first place Jin Guangshan strikes, he had said – snarled, rather – at the last meeting between sect leaders, taking to task men twice his age without so much as the blink of an eye. I want this petty bullshit between you resolved, now, and I don’t care how many generations you’ve been fighting over it. If you don’t fix it, I’ll fix it for you, and I assure you that neither of you want that.

They’d resolved it.

After all, Nie Huaisang was right: no one wanted him to step in.

It was a little ironic, Lan Xichen thought. The entire war had started because of Jin Guangshan’s lust for power, his desire to be called Chief Cultivator – a term Nie Huaisang denounced, as Nie Mingjue had before him – and now it was Nie Huaisang to whom the cultivation world deferred without question.

People were afraid of him.

It still seemed a little ridiculous to Lan Xichen, as if at any moment someone would step in and say that it was all a joke that they’d all been taken in by. That Nie Huaisang was still the excitable little roly-poly puppy he’d always been, Lan Xichen’s good friend’s little brother: stubborn and cute and smarter than he pretended to be, interested in nothing but his art and his fans and his clothing, lazy and indolent and unabashedly happy in a way that had brightened Lan Xichen’s day to see, every time.

He wasn’t, though. And it was Lan Xichen that had helped make him into what he was now.

During his travels, he’d heard cultivators in the field referring to Nie Huaisang as the Pallbearer, obliquely calling him the virtuous mourner as if he were a death-god whose name should not be directly uttered lest it draw his attention – it wasn’t anything Nie Huaisang had accepted as a personal title, utterly inauspicious as it was, but if he didn’t take one soon, he’d be stuck with it. If he wasn’t already.

People were simply uncomfortable calling him Nie-er-gongzi the way they had before, and Lan Xichen didn’t blame them one bit – the Nie-er-gongzi of the past was unrecognizable in the man of today.

But neither could he blame Nie Huaisang for refusing the title of Sect Leader Nie as long as his brother still had a single spark of life in his body.

Nie Mingjue…

Lan Xichen missed him terribly.

He knew he didn’t have the right to – Nie Huaisang had made that clear enough – but he did. He missed his old friend, with his confidence and his kindness and his goodness. He missed having a confidant who esteemed him and who trusted him, who shared everything with him without a moment’s hesitation, who always tried his best and honored those who did the same.

He’d once, and only once, caught a brief glimpse of Nie Mingjue after everything had happened: he’d been in bed, pale as death, face quiet and slack and peaceful in a way it never was, with doctors surrounding him. At the time, they were working furiously to save his life as Nie Huaisang paced furiously outside the door, refusing food and only drinking enough water to replenish the tears that streamed endlessly down his face.

That had been early on, before they’d realized Nie Mingjue had lapsed into a deep coma from which there was no telling when or if he would awake and, even if he did, in what state he would be left in. That had been before Nie Huaisang had banned Lan Xichen from the Unclean Realm…banned everyone, really, hosting them anywhere else he could rather than allow them anywhere near his brother when he was vulnerable.

Before he’d slowly started giving up hope. Before they all had.

It’d been years, after all. Surely if Nie Mingjue’s indomitable strength could heal him, it would have done so by now?

Of course, even if Nie Mingjue did eventually wake up, it wasn’t as if Lan Xichen would get his friend back the way it had once been. Nie Mingjue had always been righteous to the point of rigidity, willing to make the hard choices to punish those who had done wrong no matter their identity, and Lan Xichen had failed him so thoroughly, so completely…

Guiltily, too, he knew that if Nie Mingjue woke up, he’d undoubtedly step up as general once more, coordinating everything the way he had during the Sunshot Campaign – and that meant they wouldn’t need to rely on Lan Xichen’s assistance anymore.

Nie Huaisang had made that clear, too.

Whoever had raised his ire by sending him that message that had pulled him away from their work together…well, they’d better have a very good excuse. Nie Huaisang hated to be interrupted, his temper as short as anyone in his family’s had ever been, and his tongue was more poisonous than Jiang Cheng’s.

Lan Xichen would know, being its most frequent target.

Nie Huaisang had never forgiven Lan Xichen in his part in preserving Jin Guangyao’s life, and lacking the actual assassin to rend to bits, he had grimly decided to make do with the accomplice. He needled Lan Xichen at every instance, taunting him with his failures and deficiencies, making nasty jibes and underhanded remarks that cut deep – and Lan Xichen deserved every single one of them.

Back then, it had been Lan Xichen who had hesitated, refusing to believe the truth. Refusing to believe that his then (and, perhaps, still) beloved A-Yao could ever do such terrible things of which he had been accused, either at his time in the Nightless City or the assassination of Nie Mingjue – he had pushed back, prevaricated, insisted on investigating more, finding out more…in the end the truth had come out in all its ugly wretched filthy glory and the only thing his foot-dragging and indecisiveness that he’d pretended was a devotion to justice had gotten him was Nie Huaisang’s endless disdain.

The worst of it, though, wasn’t the humiliation or the insults, nor his feelings of failure and guilt.

No, it was the way his foolish heart raced at how Nie Huaisang looked now, with all restraint a distant memory – the sharp Nie features on his delicate face turning from blurred to clear as the childhood fat on his cheeks melted away; the intelligence that flashed in his eyes, now unhidden by any pretense or indifference; the utter brilliance in the casual way he rattled off orders, effortlessly taking command without permitting any backtalk; the way he moved, a mixture of the martial general and a dancer’s grace; the way everything about him perfectly fit to Lan Xichen’s taste –

He really was a fool.

He had a crush on you for years, Lan Xichen reminded himself. Nie Mingjue even told you about it, he’d even approved of it back then if only you were interested, and yet you pretended you knew nothing. But now, now when he hates you, despises you, sees you as little better than a worm to crush beneath his heel, now is when you finally choose to see what’s always been there?

He hadn’t said anything to Nie Huaisang about it, of course. There wasn’t any point when Nie Huaisang already thought of him in the worst possible terms – weakling, willfully blind, murderer – and he could easily imagine how it might go, if he ever tried anything.

(“I heard some soldiers say that I resemble Jin Guangyao,” Nie Huaisang had mused one day, his hands locked behind his back as he looked down at their troops training in the field. His voice was cold as ice and sharp as a blade. “Though there’s some disagreement as to whether it’s my face or the devious turns of my mind that bring up the comparison. I thought I’d ask you, Zewu-jun, you being the expert and all – am I a good replacement? A suitable stand-in? If I smile at you enough times, will you do whatever I say without question, the way you did for him?”

I would already do anything for you, Lan Xichen had thought at the time, full of sorrow. In a way that goes well beyond what I felt for him. But even if I told you, you wouldn’t believe me, would you?)

No, it was clear enough to Lan Xichen that his father’s blood ran strong in him, dooming him to only love where he was not loved in return, and to finally realize the strength of that love only when it was too late. At least it seemed that Lan Wangji had escaped that fate with Wei Wuxian, their earlier misunderstandings aside.

A moment later, as if summoned by his thoughts, the man himself appeared.

“Oh, Zewu-jun, there you are! Have you seen Nie-xiong?” Wei Wuxian asked, popping his head in through the door. Lan Wangji was a few steps behind him, waiting patiently as he always did – he was always patient with Wei Wuxian, gentle in a manner that reminded Lan Xichen of the way he sometimes cared for the wild rabbits back at the Cloud Recesses.

They hadn’t spoken much, of late. Lan Wangji had understood Lan Xichen’s weakness and had not held it against him, but that didn’t mean Lan Xichen had forgiven himself, nor did it lessen the sting of shame he felt over events he felt must have lost him the respect of his younger brother, no matter how Lan Wangji denied it – it was easier to focus on matters of war.

“He was called away suddenly, I’m afraid,” Lan Xichen said. “He left a few shichen ago, but he said he’d be back in time for dinner.”

“Dinner has already passed,” Lan Wangji said, his voice neutral – an obvious reprimand for Lan Xichen for having not noticed, shaded with concern over the way Lan Xichen didn’t always eat the way he should. He wouldn’t be hurt by it, he practiced inedia the way they all did, of course, but that didn’t mean he should miss meals if he didn’t have to. “He has not yet returned?”

“Not that I’ve noticed. But if it’s that late, he should be back soon. Do you need him for something urgent?”

“As urgent as anything else in this war,” Wei Wuxian said with a shrug. “If you see him, let us know.”

“Why do you assume I’ll see him first?” Lan Xichen asked, a little amused, but Wei Wuxian blinked at him as if he’d said something foolish.

“He always comes to you first,” he said. “Hadn’t you noticed?”

Lan Xichen’s breath caught briefly – no, he hadn’t noticed, and his mind immediately started to race, his heart growing warm…but no. He only was being foolish again. As the army’s courier, its administrator, Lan Xichen was the obvious person for Nie Huaisang to contact if he wanted to get his plans spread out to everyone as soon as possible.

There didn’t have to be anything more to it than that.

“So when he arrives, if you could just tell him –”

“No need,” Lan Wangji interrupted. “He is approaching.”

A few moments later, and it was clear from the footsteps that Lan Wangji was right, as always – when Lan Wangji was younger, Lan Xichen used to tease him about having the ears of a bat, capable of detecting everything, and sometimes he really thought it might be true.

They waited, and the door opened, and Lan Xichen instinctively turned away as Nie Huaisang let himself in, not wanting to see those hard eyes turn even harder, the instinctive sneer that rose to Nie Huaisang’s lips at the sight of him that it always took him an extra moment to suppress.

“Nie-xiong?” Wei Wuxian asked, his voice rising a register in his shock. “What happened?”

Lan Xichen turned back at once, suddenly cold all over in terror. Had Nie Huaisang been injured? Some ambush, some attack, or worst of all a garrote made of guqin string the way he’d so foolishly taught A-Yao – but no, when he examined him with his eyes, Nie Huaisang looked hale as always, but for the redness and swelling around his eyes.

He looked for all the world as if he’d been –

Crying?

And yet Lan Xichen knew that Nie Huaisang hadn’t wept in years. One could probably accurately say that Nie Huaisang hadn’t had any expression in years, nothing that wasn’t a sneer or a grimace, maybe at best a smirk. What could have caused him to do so now…?

Nie Huaisang shook his head and unexpectedly – smiled.

A real true smile, his eyes curving into crescents and wrinkling at the corners, his cheeks glowing pink and his teeth flashing just like when he was younger and more innocent and smiled like that all the time. A smile of the sort that Lan Xichen hadn’t appreciated when he had it, the sort he’d thought was lost forever.

Lan Xichen’s heart stopped in his chest.

He wished he could stop this moment, too, to keep it with him for the rest of time.

“It’s da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, beaming. “He woke up.”

Oh, Lan Xichen thought. Oh.

Oh no.

#mdzs #lan xichen #nie huaisang #wei wuxian #lan wangji #my fic #my fics #unfettered #xisang

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angelanimedesaray · 3 years

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Wings in the Dark Chapter 5: Camaraderie

AN: More Cat and Mouse. I swear its gonna start to crescendo, guys, we’re almost there XD There’s just so much to establish!

Characters: Fem!Vampire!Reader, Levi, Petra, Oluo, Gunther, Eld

Pairing: (Eventual) Levi x Fem!Vampire!Reader

Warnings: Language, Loneliness, Depressed Thoughts

Word Count: 8146

<----Previous Chapter Masterlist Next Chapter---->

*Reader’s POV*

While it wasn’t the most shocking thing that had ever happened to you, being instated as a member, but not technically a member, of the Special Operations Squad was definitely up there on your list of most surprising things that had happened to you. The weird in-between position they gave you to try and mediate how unprecedented it was to have a rookie join Levi Squad after just one expedition may have been a glorified lackey, but it was still a position with Captain Levi’s Squad.

Of course, right now, that consisted of doing the menial chores, message delivery, and other small tasks like that, but you were still a part of the team. They’d only given you this aid position they’d made on the spot because you were so new, and it did a decent job of putting you at the bottom of the food chain until you were more seasoned. However, you were still considered part of Captain Levi’s Squad--you had your own private chambers and everything, which meant you wouldn’t have to worry about not waking up anyone while you snuck out of the barracks every once in a while to get something to eat.

Also, now that you were officially being placed with a squad, you knew what people you had to try and made friends with. Before you’d been hesitant--sure, you understood that the Scouts operated in a way that was going to make teamwork and camaraderie important, so you were going to have to be more social, but you still wanted to be careful about who you let get close. You still had an instinct to keep everyone at an arm’s length besides those you /had/ to keep close, which you had rationalized would include whoever you were put under and the rest of your squad.

While you’d known Levi was watching you and the rumors had been running rampant that a rookie would be joining his squad, you’d been well aware that he wasn’t watching you because he wanted to add you to the group--he was suspicious of you. That sparring match you’d had with him had tipped him off, and he hadn’t relented in his pursuit ever since then. In fact, when he’d told you that you were going to be a part of his squad, he didn’t look entirely pleased about it. Sure, Captain Levi was usually hard to read and usually appeared distant or unapproachable, but the look in his eyes had been...colder. It made you suspicious that having you on the squad had not been his decision, or at the very least it had been one he’d made despite his reservations.

Keep your enemies close, right?

Once it was on the table that this might be a position meant solely as an excuse to keep a closer eye on you, it made your skin crawl, and you approached every situation with caution. You had to watch every step, like you were walking across a tightrope and would drown if you slipped and fell into the waters down below.

When you’d joined the Scouts, you knew that it was going to be difficult to balance being a Scout with hiding your true nature, but this was far beyond what you had expected. It made you dearly wish that you had thrown that match back on the training grounds, that he’d never gotten a sense that you were hiding something so fiercely.

Soon, you were going to be kept up at night with an internal struggle to either stick it out and try to endure so you could do what you came here to do, or if you should just take off and slink back into the shadows.

But you couldn’t bear the thought of going back to that life, as much as it might have been ‘safer’ in a way. You wanted desperately to be here--but did you want it bad enough that you were going to throw all caution to the wind, risk the Captain getting too close to your secret. In the past, before you’d joined the military, you’d killed the people who came too close to exposing you. But that wasn’t an option, here. You knew how valuable Captain Levi was to the Scouts--humanity couldn’t afford to lose him, so you couldn’t afford to touch him. Your only choice was to play this god forsaken cat and mouse game and pray that you came out on top.

Thankfully, the other members of the squad weren’t aware of the cat and mouse you and Levi were caught up in--not yet, anyway. Though they were understandably confused and even a little irritated at the inclusion of a still-green rookie, even if it was as an aid. Maybe the aid position caused a bit more tension, because a new position had been created just so you could be added to the group.

Give it time, you told yourself as you continued cleaning your private room that had been assigned to you, currently working on cleaning the desk off until it had a polished shine to it. Even if Levi hadn’t added you to the squad because he necessarily wanted you here, you were still going to prove that you could belong here, if they would let you.

“Did you finish with the stables?”

“Yes, sir. Mucked out, equipment cleaned, horses fed, watered, and brushed, shoes cleaned, all of it.”

“What about cleaning inside, have you done all the tasks you were assigned?”

“All except what Oluo asked me to do. I haven’t got there yet."

"Well, get to it. And when you're done come down to the training grounds for some training."

"Yes, sir!"

As you walked away from Eld, your ears picked up on a passing comment he made to Gunther when he thought you were out of earshot.

“Is it just me, or is it frustrating how easily and quickly she tends to get all of her tasks done? I can’t even find anything wrong with it, so I can’t claim she’s rushing through it!”

"You too? I thought it was just Oluo complaining about that."

Just as you'd suspected. The others weren't pleased with your easy access to this position. They weren't going to say anything because they trusted Levi’s judgement and as far as they knew it was his decision, but that didn't mean they weren't going to be at least a little irritated. How long had it taken before they'd been added to Levi’s squad? How many expeditions, how much hard work? By all accounts, it looked like you'd had smooth and effortless sailing into a position among the elite.

The fact they kept having you do the shit chores was just a way to kick you back in the dirt and remind you that you were still a rookie, and they were the veterans with experience.

However, you didn't complain. You could do the jobs faster than anyone without loosing accuracy because of it. Not to mention you felt it might be cathartic for their frustrations. Though, now it seemed they had a new reason to be frustrated.

You'd tone it back to appease them, but Levi already knew what your full effort looked like with the cleaning jobs--he'd know you were holding back, and you highly doubted he'd appreciate that when it came to cleaning, knowing his standards.

Quickly, you made your way back inside and up to Oluo's chambers, stopping outside the door and giving a firm knock.

"Who's there?"

"It's L/N, you said you had a job for me to do?"

"It's about time you showed up. Get in here!"

After he'd officially invited you inside, you opened the door, stepping inside and expecting to see paperwork or supplies or something else you would have to deliver or put away.

Nope. Oluo was standing there with cleaning supplies presented in the middle of the room. You immediately knew where this was going, and even you could tell it wasn't going to end well.

"Start cleaning, rookie. I've got more important things I have to get done, and I want it shining by the time I get back," Oluo ordered, complete with a puffed out chest.

You were supposed to follow their orders without question, but you knew Oluo was taking advantage of that fact. Maybe he was hoping having you clean his quarters before Levi inspected them later today would help him look better to the Captain. But you were also certain that Levi would recognize that it was your work and not Oluo's

For Oluo's sake, since you were certain he would be the one getting in trouble, you pushed back slightly.

"Doesn't Captain Levi prefer if we clean our own spaces?" You asked as you picked up the broom. Oluo turned by the door, fixing you with the imitation of an expression befitting a superior who'd just heard a subordinate talk back.

"Huh? How long have you been here, rookie, compared to me?" Oluo challenged. You shrugged, turning back to the cleaning supplies and the room you were supposed to clean.

His funeral.

The window was open to let in natural light and try to chase away the gloomy atmosphere in your room, silence filling the space except for the birds outside and the scratching against the paper you were currently drawing on. Your eyes, however, were unfocused, looking past the piece you were drawing and instead getting lost in the sea of your depressed thoughts.

For three years you’d been back among people, mingling and being a part of society, but never had you felt so...ostracized. You were among people, but you weren’t close to anyone. Your peers thought you were a haughty perfectionist ice queen and were irritated by how easily everything came to you, Captain Levi was suspicious that there was something you were hiding and was watching your every move with a coldness in his eyes, and your new squad mates were currently using you as the gopher to dump all the chores they didn’t want to do onto you while giving you examining, dubious looks from a distance trying to figure out why you were even here.

You sat alone at meals, you didn’t go anywhere on your days off--the closest thing you had to a companion were the horses, and most of them were still frightened by you.

You wanted to be here, but...it was getting so hard just to be here. Was it really worth it if you were going to spend your days feeling like this?

On the paper spread out in front of you, you had a picture drawn from the mental image in your mind’s eye--a single flower in a barren spot surrounded by lush field. The sun shone everywhere else, but this single spot was cast in shadow. Despite the barren ground and the lack of sunlight, the flower was trying to bloom, partially budded, some petals trying to uncurl, but ice covered it’s petals and held prisoner it’s stem, restraining it in the icy chill, needing assistance but nothing around it willing or able to help.

You put down what you were drawing with, a lump in your throat and tears in your eyes as you headed over to your bed and stretched out on top of the neatly made covers, arms digging under the pillow you buried your face in before tears could overflow.

You were surrounded by people, but you’d never felt so lonely, and you wanted it to change. Even though you’d signed up for this and known it would be difficult, you couldn’t take living like this anymore. Something had to change. You didn’t know how you were going to keep your secret while trying to let people in enough to form bonds, but it was the only real option that you had.

The guys were all dubious of you, you could tell from overheard conversations and the looks in their eyes, but Petra...well, you thought if you were going to start trying to build a friendship somewhere, she might be the one to go to. She’d been a bit more...open, about the whole arrangement, and she was actually asking for help and trying to get a feel for you while everyone else seemed to be going out of their way to remind you that you were at the bottom of the food chain right now.

Starting tomorrow...you were going to try and be a companion and hopefully manage to find some friendship. Starting with Petra.

*Petra’s POV*

The mess hall was noisy as ever, making it a little surprising that Captain Levi was still sitting with them at the table after repeating the lecture he'd given Oluo later about doing his own cleaning. Now that Oluo had attempted to have the rookie clean his space and then pass it off as his own, the rest of them got to get the warning to do their own responsibilities without shoving them all off on the new girl.

Petra had felt bad that she seemed to be getting all the crap jobs nobody wanted to do and then some while the others seemed determined to make sure she knew her place, but she hadn't said anything because not once had the woman complained or looked the least bit upset by it. Until today, Petra had been unsure how to even approach her, something about her making her seem closed off and unreachable.

However, today she had approached Petra, quietly asking Petra if she would teach her the nuances for how everything was cleaned around here. Preferences of soaps and organization, what went where and the like. You could clean till everything shone like a new coin, bur preferences had to be taught or learned. She'd been aware of it, and she had been humble enough to approach Petra for answers.

It was only when she was approached that Petra suddenly realized how alone the woman seemed. She never ate with them--in fact she was certain she ate alone--and she was never seen around anyone from her years as a cadet, she didn't seem to leave headquarters to visit family, and if you needed to find her she was either alone in her room or with the horses in the stable. She was never with someone unless she was doing her job.

The thing that made Petra realize all this was how she was approached. The woman shifted her weight, a white knuckle grip on the broom in her hand despite visible restraint, her eyes fixed down and to the side, a slight tremble in her hand and a hunch of her shoulders like she was anticipating some negative reaction, or at least reluctance.

It wasn't right. She was part of their squad, and it was their job to make sure she felt included. Captain Levi must have felt that she was ready on some level to be here, and they were her comrades. At the very least, she should have a place among them--she shouldn't be so alone.

So, while everyone else was chatting as usual around the table, Petra kept an eye out for their new squad member. It took a while, but when the woman finally appeared and left the line to get her food, Petra attempted to catch her attention without the others noticing.

They locked gazes, and Y/N hesitated before she approached their table, making the others look up as she came astride the table.

"May I sit here?" she asked hesitantly, gaze flickering around at the others and lingering briefly on Captain Levi at the head of the table.

"Of course," Petra said instantly, gesturing to an empty seat beside her and flashing a look at the others daring them to disagree while Y/N was taking her seat. "It's about time you started sitting with your squad."

Her cheeks tinged pink in mild embarrassment, Y/N took a few bites of her meal, clearly uncertain about what to do next.

Well, if everyone else was just going to sit here in awkward silence, and Y/N wasn’t going to take the initiative because she wasn’t sure how, Petra would just have to do it herself.

“So, where are you from?” Petra asked her. It was probably the best, simple answer to get the ball rolling on conversation.

“A small town in Wall Rose--it tends to get overlooked, and it's usually quiet around there except the occasional scandal.”

“Do you have much family back home?”

“No, it’s just me.”

The way she said it was short, clearly ending the topic there, but she managed to not make it sound mean--just that she wasn’t entirely comfortable talking about it, which made sense. Petra continued to chat with her, asking simple questions to try and learn more about her, basing some off her observations of the woman--like if she was good with animals. Apparently animals weren’t always that fond of her, but she had a soft spot for them despite some animals distaste of her. She thought she might be good with cats or birds, but hadn’t really had the opportunity to test her theory out.

After a bit of back and forth between Petra and Y/N about their lives and learning about one another, the others started to join in as well--aside from Captain Levi, who seemed content to just focus on his meal and listen while everyone talked around him. As the conversation flowed a little more naturally, Y/N started to loosen up and relax, taking charge of the conversation a few times to ask about the others as well as she bloomed from a closed off background character in a novel to a more outgoing and engaging individual. It was quite the change to witness. She still withdrew into herself with more personal questions, especially about her past before joining the Scouts, which gave Petra the impression that the Scouts were a sort of fresh start for the woman. She shared with them why she’d joined the Scouts, which none of them could deny was a valid enough reason after seeing her in action. She had skill, and if she wanted those skills to be put to use, the Scouts were arguably the best place for them, and the faction of the military with the strongest need for them. Besides, who didn’t want to feel useful? Unfortunately, many Scouts died, and some died so quickly it was easy to wonder if their deaths ever had any meaning to begin with, if it had been worth it. However, Petra had the feeling this one wasn’t going to be one of those recruits that appeared and disappeared without ever leaving much of a mark. She just might be around for a while, especially if she was going to take the time to learn from the elites she’d been placed with and stayed grounded, level-headed, and smart.

As the questions drifted away from the personal, in part because of Y/N’s continued reluctance to delve too deeply into the personal, they started peppering her with the twenty-questions kinds of inquiries. What were her likes and dislikes, favorites, hobbies, fears, aspirations, that kind of thing. Some she was able to answer relatively quickly, even if it wasn’t simple, such as having no clear favorite because she liked so many, and other times she hesitated, such as when she was asked aspirations, because she hadn’t given it much thought, being so focused on this current stage of her life.

“What about biggest fears?”

“Oluo!” Petra protested, giving him a dirty look. They were all eating, and this question alone could get extremely dark considering the horrors they faced every day outside the wall.

“What? It’s a legitimate question. Some people are scared of spiders, others heights--though you don’t get much of that one in the military, I think--it could be all kinds of things.”

"I think the answer to that is a little too morbid for dinner conversation," Y/N said with a slightly weak smile, which made Petra think it might actually be something to do with Titans. If it was, it was probably best they didn’t hear it, just in case.

"Nah, it's fine, we're sharing--so what is it? Fire? Dolls? Dead fish?" Oluo asked cheekily.

"Um...being buried alive, actually," Y/N answered, looking down and picking at her food.

"Damn, that is a pretty scary thought. Wasn't expecting that one," Oluo muttered. Petra wasn’t paying attention to him--she was reading Y/N’s body language, how she’d seemed to withdraw into herself and her hand was trembling as she pushed around the food left on her plate. It was most likely at the thought of this fear of hers, if Petra had to guess. The mental imagery alone was terrifying.

At the other end of the table, Levi was staring at Y/N intently, having noticed the same things, and a little more.

“Now that Oluo has officially tried to sabotage the evening, let’s try some gossip: I hear you had a knack for sneaking out in the Cadet Corps and never got caught. What were you doing? I’ve heard some interesting theories,” Gunther said with a perceiving glint in his eyes. Y/N sighed even as everyone’s attention centered on her.

“God damn those rumors are going to follow me for the rest of my life, aren’t they?” she mused, not denying that she snuck out as she took a slow drink.

“Well, Rookie? Care to share?” Oluo asked as she sat down her drink.

She turned to look at the rest of the group, and then with an unreadable expression and in a completely deadpan tone, stated, "I strip naked in the pale moonlight and conduct blood rituals to achieve perfection."

There was a heartbeat, and then snorts, chuckles, a ripple of amusement through the group at the joke.

"Rookie's got a sense of humor," Oluo mused.

Y/N’s lips quirked towards a half smile, taking another drink. "Wish I could say the same for you."

There was a bit more laughter this time, even as Oluo scowled, no one bothering to hide their amusement at the comment.

"And some snark, to boot," Gunther snickered as Oluo sulked. “But really, though, what were you doing?”

Y/N sighed, setting down her drink again. “It wasn’t...actually, you know what,” she said with a sparkle in her eye and a mischievous smile. “I hear there’s a pot for the theories. Place bets on it, maybe one day I’ll actually tell you. Maybe I won’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Oluo complained loudly.

“Now that’s just mean,” Petra said with a cluck of her tongue and a shake of her head while Y/N settled back down, visibly proud of her teasing.

Caught up in their banter and companionable discussion, no one noticed how at the head of the table, laid back in his chair, Levi showed no sign of amusement, his gaze fixated on Y/N with a sharp, cold look.

*Reader’s POV*

After you’d taken your first steps towards developing a warmer relationship with your squad mates, things started to go a bit easier for you. You were still at the bottom of the food chain, and the responsibilities as an aid hadn’t changed, but you didn’t think you were getting as much shit dumped on you. It probably helped that Captain Levi had apparently given them a lecture about doing their own chores instead of getting lazy and shoving them all off on her.

For the most part, it was Petra that you were getting close to. The others were becoming cordial, and you had even approached Eld asking him if he could give you lessons on ODM gear technique after hearing he was quite skilled at utilizing the ODM gear. That seemed to have helped the relationship there--frankly, whenever you showed a bit of humility about still having a lot to learn, they warmed up a bit more.

It seemed there had been concerns that you would be an arrogant big headed pain in their asses with how quickly you’d shot into the elite squad, and showing them that you still considered yourself in a learning position and not above anyone helped assuage those fears.

Captain Levi...was as suspicious of you as ever. Except now you were around him enough to feel the chill in his gaze even after you left his presence. That was a relationship you weren’t sure you were in a position to improve. You’d given him plenty of reasons to be suspicious of you, but you were still trying your damnedest not to give him a reason to mistrust you. Maybe it would just take time to prove yourself in his eyes, but at this rate, it was looking like a /deep/ hole you were going to have to climb out of, and for some reason, it just kept getting deeper.

Since it was going to be the more difficult task, you resolved to worry about making a better relationship with Captain Levi later and instead focus on improving the relationship with your squad mates. Firstly, you didn’t want to be a kiss ass, especially cause you knew it would be obvious. Second, ideally by the time you set about improving your relationship with the Captain, he might have warmed up a bit to you.

At the very least, it would be nice if that chill wasn’t in his gaze anymore.

Right now, Petra was the closest thing to a confidant and friend that you had. After you had initially approached her about learning the nuances for cleaning, she’d taken the initiative to help you learn the ropes and adjust to the other nuances of being in Levi Squad, which involved a lot of dos and don’ts. She’d even pulled you aside one evening and sat you down so she could teach you how to properly make Captain Levi’s tea how he liked it, so that if or when he asked for it--and apparently he eventually asked everyone at some point, at least to gauge their tea making skills--you would be ready. You’d been down in the kitchen for a surprisingly long time for that one, since apparently Levi liked his black tea made a very specific way, and additives weren’t usually his preference, so there would be no masking any off taste.

Shortly after, you’d decided to let Petra know about your secret little garden with your tea making herbs. You’d gone when you both had some free time to spare, crouching down beside the garden and talking with her about the different herbs for your blends you’d added and why, complete with a prepared excuse about why the white sage was so far away from the rest and why you wore gloves when handling the plans at all times.

The white sage you told her needed to stay separate because it was aggressive and you didn’t want it taking over the smaller herbs, when you really kept it separate because it burned at the touch and you didn’t want to risk even accidentally brushing against it while you were working on this hobby of yours. As for the gloves, it was the same concept--it let you handle the sage safely without harming yourself, though you told her it was for cleanliness and to keep your natural oils off of the tea herb plants.

As you’d chatted about the herbs in your garden and potential additions (With Petra suggesting adding the plants necessary to make some black tea blends of your own), you’d caught a familiar scent on the breeze, which led you to hone your senses on the individual’s breathing and heartbeat. They were staying a safe distance away so as not to be noticed, but close enough that if something happened they would be there in an instant. They were tense and cautious, listening intently to what was being discussed.

It seemed Captain Levi had reached the point he didn’t trust you alone with the other members of Squad Levi in places that were hidden from the public eye. Your best guess for his presence was that it was out of concern for Petra, wanting to make sure the other woman was truly safe in your presence.

Once again, you understood his cautiousness, and he wasn’t wrong to be cautious...but the level of distrust still cut.

After about a week or so spent developing a stronger bond with your new squad mates, as the time for another feed drew closer, you decided to confide in some of your concerns with Petra regarding Captain Levi--that you felt you might have made a bad impression on him early on and wanted a way to thaw some of the ice between you two that wouldn’t look like bribery or like you were trying to kiss ass. You’d tossed a couple ideas around, already reassuring her that you were already intending to let time tell and let your own personality and abilities do most of the work, but that the chill was getting a little too uncomfortable on your end for you to keep going without making some kind of first step.

With an upcoming holiday and a debate about the best approach, you’d eventually settled on putting together a small gift of personalized tea blends. Since you didn’t have anything mature in your garden for black tea, you had to go into town to get missing ingredients, going with Petra to get her opinion on the best leaves, best tea bags, any additions that you didn’t have in your garden back with the Scouts or that hadn’t matured enough to use anything from it yet like your rosebush. After you had all of your materials, you’d headed back to HQ and stowed yourselves away in the kitchen to get to work.

Petra had the idea to make a couple different variations--there would be plain black tea, of course, but you’d also had some personal blends that you two decided on, mostly based off of Petra’s experience making Levi his tea when asked to, and her past observations of the few times he’d added something to it. You would have to divide and label the different teas in the container, but it would make it a little more personal.

However, you got her attention when you brought out the white sage, gloved hands grinding the herb up into a fine powder with a mortar and pestle.

“What’s that for?” she asked with a slight frown, watching you intently grinding at the white sage to make sure it was all powder and there weren’t any chunks left.

“I’m going...to add a light dusting of the white sage over the tea bags. Hopefully not enough to alter the taste, but it will still be in there,” you murmured, covered fingers running through the powder to check how fine you’d made it.

“I know there’s superstitions about white sage cleansing of evil and bad spirits, but I know the Captain isn’t, and you didn’t take me for the superstitious type. I just figured you had a fancy taste in tea,” Petra mused. You almost snorted, but stopped yourself short considering you were currently directly over the powdered sage and didn’t want it to go everywhere.

“While I’m sure the superstitious intent of cleansing and warding off evil adds a bit more personal good intent, the short version is that it’s also supposed to do wonders for your health. At least according to that book that’s still stashed in my desk,” you chuckled.

“I didn’t know that...a fine addition, then. You really pay attention to that herbology book of yours,” Petra quipped with a friendly smile, which you returned before setting the white sage aside for later, when your tea bags were finished.

Though only you would know it, if he kept the tea and used it frequently--which was fairly likely with how much tea he drank--then he would have white sage in his system frequently. That alone would protect him substantially from any other vampires lurking in the darkness. You couldn’t predict the actions of other vampires, especially with how impulsive they could sometimes be, but if you were this deep in the Scouts, you would rather be safe than sorry, especially if someone with ill intentions managed to work their way in.

Sure, white sage helped with general health, but the real reason you were adding it was for your own peace of mind to help protect Captain Levi. Why not take the opportunity to do so now that it had presented itself. If you were in the position to, you would give similar gifts of secret protection to more than just him, but you only had so much white sage, and right now, he was the one you had an excuse to do this for.

Now you just had to hope he would accept it.

*Levi’s POV*

As much as Erwin had a point about being able to keep a closer eye on L/N by having her in his squad, Levi was finding the arrangement to be...complicating. The way she presented herself, interacted with the others, the hard work she was putting in, he kept finding himself softening towards her because of it. She was a good soldier who truly put in the effort and then some, and she was quickly growing on the rest of the team. She was observant and thoughtful, and she paid close attention to the needs and preferences of the people around her. She wasn’t boastful or arrogant, and apparently was trying to learn something from every member of the squad. Petra had already taken her in like the natural mother hen she was and was around her quite often, but L/N could be seen around the others as well, just not as much.

For fuck’s sake, she’d even befriended his goddamn horse--he’d caught her in the stables sneaking him some oats and getting playfully nuzzled in return. From her track record, he knew she had to have put in the effort for that to happen, too, considering the horses started off at least spooked by her.

But he knew she was hiding something. He couldn’t ignore the signs he’d picked up on until now, how she dodged the personal and tried to keep her past hidden and buried, couldn’t forget the smell of the Underground and blood on her cape, her lack of a past, her unexplained, effortless natural skills, the regular sneaking out to do who knew what. Maybe it wasn’t as insidious as he kept thinking it might be, maybe he should ease up a bit instead of freezing her out and treating her like an already convicted traitor. But he couldn’t shake this feeling that whatever she was hiding was far from innocent, and he didn’t want to risk the betrayal, or getting his squad any more mixed up in it than they already were.

Though how well they were starting to take to her and how she was already being included into the fold, he was starting to get the sense that he was on a time limit before uncovering her as a traitor or something else terrible would cause unexpected damage.

Of course, he could take the paranoid route and assume that it was all clever, carefully planned movements, actions, and words meant to manipulate everyone around her into trusting her and letting their guards down. Unfortunately, not only was that extremely paranoid, but she didn’t lack the sincerity behind much of what she did like certain psychopaths he’d met in the past. She was very clearly hiding things, and she knew she was being watched, but her sincerity didn’t ring hollow because of it.

Fuck, he hated being in this position. And he really hated that he’d agreed to Erwin’s idea to put him in this situation. Even he knew he was being especially cold to her as if it would help put some distance between himself and the warm individual who was working her ass off for him and his squad in case the worst happened. If he was wrong, though, and what she was hiding wasn’t as malicious as he felt it might be, then he was going to have a lot of reparations to deal with going forward, especially since she was already on the fast track to be a part of his squad for a long time moving forward so long as she continued to survive the expeditions.

It would be so much easier if she just came clean. They wouldn’t have to do all this back and forth, cat and mouse, and they could move on. Unfortunately, even though she knew she was being watched and Levi was suspicious, she wasn’t saying anything beyond that comment she’d made the night before the expedition. Just another reason to believe whatever she was hiding was ugly.

There was a knock on his door, and his gaze flickered up to the shut door across from his desk, a faint frown on his face and Erwin’s findings about L/N spread out in front of him as he was in the middle of contemplating next moves.

“What?” he asked, squinting slightly at the door.

“It’s Y/N L/N. May I come in, Captain?”

Instinctively, Levi covered the documents he’d been looking at with anything that didn’t have to do with her, from supply shortage lists, reports from Hange and Erwin about the Scouts in general, anything but what he was looking at about her, knowing she had a sharp eye and not wanting to risk her seeing just how much he was aware of.

“Fine, come in,” Levi muttered, arm lying against the desk as the door opened after he spoke, and L/N came in hesitantly, something in hand.

A delivery, then. It was too much to hope she’d come to finally confess her secret to put an end to their unspoken chase. A pity.

As she approached, Levi noticed that she was rather fidgety, obviously nervous or at least a little embarrassed, and she was clutching the tin box in her hand rather rightly. What the hell was this about that suddenly she was a nervous cadet instead of the relatively calm and steady individual he’d been chasing secrets over up until now?

And then he remembered what day it was.

You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me...

As understanding lit up in his eyes, he held up a hand. “If this is an attempt at a bribe, L/N--”

“It’s not,” she said firmly, and Levi had to give credit to the balls she had to cut him off like that. She didn’t even seem to regret it, plowing forward before he could start down the path of rejection again.

“It’s a gift, no strings attached or anything like that. Petra and I put it together, it’s for the holiday...and it’s also partially a thank you, on my part,” she said before taking a deep breath, setting the box down on his desk neatly on a clean space front and center before stepping away. “I know I haven’t made the best impression, and you didn’t have to put me with your squad in any capacity, but you did, and I intend to make sure it’s not something you end up regretting.”

It seemed they were both well aware of the game they were trapped in, and she was well aware of her position. He had to give her credit for not bolting, if she knew the position she was in and how much scrutiny she was under. Either she didn’t feel what she had to hide was that serious, which wasn’t likely with how hard she was trying to hide it, or she was that confident in her abilities to keep the truth hidden.

He still wasn’t sure he could entirely believe that this wasn’t a bribe, though. It could very easily be taken as one, or at least a thinly veiled attempt to get him to like her--or at least not be as cold with her. And she’d involved Petra. It was almost like she’d name dropped the other woman in order to prevent him from immediately rejecting the gift, because it wasn’t just her that had put effort into it.

Levi stared her up and down intently, eyes narrowed slightly out of suspicion as he tried to gauge her intentions and sincerity. After a few tense moments where she simply endured his piercing stare without so much as a tremble--there was the collected individual he’d seen up until now--he looked away, down at the papers across his desk.

“If that’s all, you can go,” he said bluntly as a way of dismissal. She was lucky he wasn’t telling her to take it back. He wasn’t openly accepting it, either, he was still going to decide what to do with it, but he wasn’t sending it back with her, either.

It was the closest she was going to get to accepting a gift right now.

L/N snapped a salute, apparently deciding it was better not to say anything and to just take the semi-win and leave. Once the door shut behind her, Levi waited a few more moments before he put the random papers he’d grabbed back where they belonged, pulling the tin close so he could get a look at what was inside now that she’d left.

Opening the tin, the fragrance that escaped immediately told him what the gift was--black tea, but a variety of different blends. And it was good tea, too, if the scent was anything to go by. Groups of the tea bags were sectioned off, labeled by the variant they were, such as the one blend that included lemon, or the one that seemed to have blackberries in it. The tea bags were definitely homemade, telling him the blends were specially made by her and Petra, thought going into the ingredients. There was a white powder dusted over all the tea bags that turned out to be white sage upon closer inspection.

An odd choice...especially since it was on every tea bag and not certain blends.

The wild thought crossed his mind that they might be poisoned, and he scowled, attempting to brush aside the paranoia with the thought that it would be far too bold and obvious of a move, especially with Petra helping put it together. He doubted she would have been able to get such a thing past Petra, too, considering the woman’s experience making Levi’s tea.

I’m going fucking crazy, he thought to himself as, despite his rationalization, he pulled out one of the tea bags and started methodically pulling it apart piece by piece to make sure there wasn’t anything fatal slipped into the homemade blend. He made sure to avoid touching it as little as possible so it was still usable when he was done, shifting through the ingredients in the blend and making sure he recognized every one.

Nothing suspicious about it. Aside from the odd choice of white sage.

If it really was meant to be a bribe, though, did he want to take it? He didn’t want to waste the tea, so he wasn’t going to just throw it out. He could re-gift it to Hange or Erwin, but he knew that would be a slight, and L/N hadn’t been the only one to make it--Petra had helped.

Dammit…

He’d just have to let it sit there until he could figure out what he was going to do with it. He could speculate on conspiracy theories about what it was meant to be, if it really was anything more than a gift, until he figured out how he was going to handle it.

It really could be what she said, though--a gift for the holidays and a thank you, maybe even a peace offering in the hopes things wouldn’t continue to be so tense between them. The contention would continue, though, until he found out what she was hiding.

Levi settled back into what he’d been doing before she came to his office, looking over the details Erwin had provided him, a small frown on his face as he looked over official documents and police reports that were roughly forty years old about a double homicide in the town that had spawned local legends and horror stories to frighten children. Why was this included in the report Erwin gave him? One of the two victims was the girl that L/N shared a first name with, the only thing resembling a tangible connection to the town she claimed as her hometown that Erwin could find.

He was going to have to talk to Erwin and try to get a day or two off so he could go investigate in person. He needed more information than what was in these reports, and he would only find what he wanted by going there in person.

Once more, there was a knock on the door, this time followed immediately by a familiar voice calling, “Captain?”

Ah, this was a meeting he’d been waiting for.

“You can come in, Petra,” he called, finally putting away Erwin’s reports in a safe place as Petra entered the room and headed for Levi’s desk. She didn’t bother asking why he asked her to meet him, simply took a seat and waited for him to speak.

“What do you think about our new member?” Levi asked after he got settled in his seat. Petra’s surprised eyes wandered to the gift still sitting on the desk, a questioning look in her eyes even though she complied to answering his question.

“Do you mean in skills or compatibility?” Petra asked for clarification after a moment’s hesitation.

“Compatibility.”

He was already well aware of her skills--she wouldn’t have even been placed as an aid in the squad if she didn’t have skills to become one of the elite. Skill was one of the first things he looked at when choosing squad members.

Petra seemed even more confused that he was asking after her personality more than anything, but again, she didn’t question him.

“She’s quiet and reserved, for the most part, but after spending a couple weeks with her, once you manage to get her to open up she has a warm and caring personality. She’s a little socially timid, though, I’m sure you’ve noticed; like she’s thinking of how she should act before she does or says something. At least at first, before she gets more comfortable and gets into the flow of conversation.”

Petra paused to consider, a small frown on her face. “She’s a creature of habit, that’s for sure--she’s always wearing the same necklace, all the time--I’ve never seen her without it, and there’s certain places she’s always at during certain times of the day. I’m a little worried about her health, though. I didn’t notice it at first, but she hardly seems to eat. She doesn’t get much on her plate, and she’s always smuggling things that are safe for horses to eat to the stables to bribe the horses instead of eating it herself. She doesn’t seem affected, not yet anyway, but I’m still worried about it.”

Taking the mental notes for later in case that information proved important, Levi pressed a little further. “What about the others? It seems like she’s fitting in well.”

Petra nodded. “She’s getting lessons of some kind from almost everyone, and she’s been a lot better about being social. She’s making a genuine effort to be a part of the squad, and to be perfectly honest, I like having her around.”

“Anything else?”

Petra’s gaze flickered over to the box sitting on the desk again. “If it’s not too presumptuous, Captain--I don’t know what impression she made when you two first met. She mentioned it may not have been the best first impression, but...she really is trying to be worth the chance she’s been given to be a part of this squad, and her attempts appear genuine to me. Perhaps give her another chance to make a better impression.”

Levi didn’t answer her, and he kept his expression unreadable so she wouldn’t see his reaction to her words. It was more incentive for him to close this messy chapter, and it helped clear up his thoughts on how to act going forward if this secret didn’t turn out to be something crazy like treason or murder.

“Thank you, Petra. You can go, now,” Levi finally answered in an indifferent voice. Petra got up and gave a quick salute, then quietly left the room without any further comment. Once she was gone, Levi got to his feet with a slight sigh.

He needed to see Erwin.

Next Chapter---->

Levi Tags: @clary-quinn @humanitys-hottestsoldier@whalerus @sunny-flo @thirstyforsometea

Wings in the Dark Tags: @regalillegal @animeluver23 @theshylittleelfgirl @queenthorin1 @dilucs-thighs @sociallyanxiousmouse

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your-wings-of-freedom · 4 years

Text

Thunderstorms (Reiner x Reader)

Authors Note: First AoT & Reiner fic! I am always generally confused about the geographic layout of things so just overlook the details that doesn’t line up with the anime. Pretend it’s okay. Thx. With my Reiner, we pretend he’s not the armored titan (shh). I have no idea where I’m going with most of my fics. I write blindly and it ends up with verbal diarrhea. I’m sorry if nothing makes sense. But if you’re still following me after my first fic, then you’ve signed up for my chaotic writing and I make no further apologies. Also, I never edit any of my stuff so expect a lot of errors. If it’s out of character, honestly - let me know! I feel like I’ve not written him well, to be honest. He’s a lot harder to write than I thought! Warnings: None. First fic though so - goodluck reading it! Words: 3,168

The weather forced everyone to take cover in one of their many base camp buildings set up in areas outside the walls. Whilst it wasn’t ideal when they were outside of the walls and in Titan territory, they really had no choice. With the heavy torrent of rain and the darkened sky, their vision was limited – and Levi had experienced such a situation before and it didn’t bode well. Had his rage not fueled him at the time, he probably wouldn’t have made it. It was not something he was putting his soldiers at risk.

Hence why they rode a little further and took cover the evening. It was just a basic set up, enough to house them to give enough rest; a kitchen area, dining area and two rooms – usually set up for medical attention and the other for supplies. In these situations, the dining tables are moved to sit against the wall so the group can make camp for the night on the floor. Usually it wasn’t as disgusting as it sounded because Levi would have had everyone clean the area top to bottom. But some key factors prevented Levi from putting his squad to work; they were in titan territory, there were no cleaning supplies for such a trivial task – except, perhaps medical supplies, but their priority lied with the priority of his soldiers.

Whilst there wasn’t a stable set up, there was something similar to a ‘supply shed’, so everyone placed their horses in there, tying them up to whatever they could find and improvised a stable with what they had, before heading inside the building opposite.

You, and your team mates stood around in the room, shivering slightly from the cold as the Captain addressed the group. “I know our current condition is not ideal, but we’ve been through worse. This is titan territory and we’re currently sitting ducks, but the weather will likely hold the titans off. It’s more risky riding out in the weather like this. I suggest you get whatever sleep you can while you can. As soon as the rain lets up, we’ll make continue onwards. I can’t say whether it’ll be an hour, a few hours, or until the morning. Everyone move the tables against the wall and make do on the floor.” “Sir!” voices called out in unison as they accepted their last order before bunkering down for the evening. There didn’t seem any point in having someone as spotter since you couldn’t see past the pelting rain. Levi, however, sat himself near the window regardless. The man never slept. The boys, mostly Reiner, helped move the tables to the side while the others chose their spots to rest for the evening. You watched as Mikasa, Armin and Eren set up together in their little group. It came as no surprise to you. It was at that point you could hear the sound of thunder rumbling. Your eyes widened a little in fear, you could feel your heart beginning to beat in a fast rhythm. You looked around for a safe place to set up and found an area little off to the side in a corner, away from everyone. The room murmured with hushed tones as people were mindful to keep their voices down for those who want to rest. You sat with your back against the wall, knees pulled up to your chest and arms wrapped around your legs. Your eyes glancing around the room, trying to focus on your teammates rather than the sound of the thunder that seemed to drawing closer as the rumblings became louder. Mikasa, Eren and Armin were lying on their stomachs, facing each other and just talking. Armin was smiling, Eren was giving a small smile, Mikasa’s eyes had softened, so they must have been talking about something nicer than the subject of Titan’s and future missions. Sasha and Connie and Jean seemed to be resting together, hoping to catch a few moments of precious sleep. You weren’t going to be getting any sleep soon. Or at all. You never did sleep when thunderstorms happened. You knew it stemmed from your childhood, from when your parents weren’t around when you were little, and you had to deal with the loud noise by yourself.

Reiner and Bertholdt were finishing up moving the last of the tables. They didn’t really need to as there were already plenty of space to accommodate everyone, supposedly they were too busy quietly talking to realise. They were always together, those two. You never minded. But sometimes, just sometimes, it would have been nice to be able to speak to Reiner alone. In those times, it felt awkward to have Bertholdt there, and you can see that Bertholdt seem to feel uncomfortable being there too. But he never seemed to take the initiative to go and do something to leave you and Reiner alone. You never resented him for it. He treated you like a friend so you can hardly feel any resentment toward him for it. He seemed to have a shy streak to him, so perhaps it was that? Who knew. A loud clap of thunder had you flinching violently, and a strangled whimper-ish sound caught in your throat as you tightly shut your eyes, willing for the sounds to stop, quickly catching Reiner’s attention as he glanced over to the person he had come to care about in a much different way to how he cares about his comrades. “Hey Y/N. You lonely over there? Come and sit with us.” Reiner whispered loudly enough to be heard by you but not enough to disturb others. You didn’t respond. You couldn’t respond. The fear trapped your words and you were desperately trying to make the sounds stop. “Are they asleep?” Bertholdt asked as he glanced over at your curled form, looking as though you fell asleep sitting up, your head ducked so your features were half-hidden. “No, I don’t think so.” Reiner murmured, brows narrowing in concern. “Hang on.” He quickly excused himself as he stood up from where he was sitting with Bertholdt.

He crouched down in front of you, “Hey. You alright?” “Yeah.” But the waver in your whispered tone betrayed you. “Really?” Yeah, Reiner was not at all convinced by your answer. Why would he be? He’s seen you sad, he’s seen you angry, he’s seen you happy… but he’s not seen you like this before. “Seriously, Y/N. What’s going on?” you didn’t have verbally answer. The sound of a loud crack of thunder gave away what was ailing you right now. You tried to muffle your fear but with Reiner being so close to you, it was hard to get away with it. He was quick to put two and two together. Particularly when your hands flung up to grip the sides of your head. You hated this. How pathetic you must look to the one you seemed to like and, perhaps, even found yourself flirting with. “You’re scared of the thunder?” You didn’t answer. God, you couldn’t answer. You couldn’t even look at him. You were rendered weak. Pathetic. You had no right being in the Scouts, let alone riding as Levi’s second team if you were scared of something so trivial such as thunderstorms. He seemed to have picked up on your distress. “Hey, it’s okay. We’re all allowed to be afraid of something you know.” Another loud crack of thunder that had the windows shaking, caused you to cry out in pure fear and lunge at Reiner. You heard him grunt in surprise, body tensing because he hadn’t expected to suddenly be holding you in his arms. The shock wore off as quickly as it came, and he wrapped his arms around you without another moment’s hesitation. It wasn’t the cold that had you shivering, it was the fear that had you trembling. You gripped the front of his damp shirt in the balls of your fists, burying your face in his chest. If there was ever a time to humiliate yourself, tonight was the night. You knew those who were still awake were watching, particularly when that last cry tore from your throat before you could even muffle it. Even Levi glanced over from watching the rain outside with his stoic expression. He didn’t say anything, nor did his features give anything away. Whatever it was, Reiner seemed to have it under control, there was no need for Levi to intervene unless a matter was brought to Levi’s attention.

The tips of Reiner’s ears were red from being flustered at having you throw yourself at him the way you did. He had been trying to summon the courage to ask you out for weeks now but never seemed brave enough to do so. And when an opportunity arose like this, for him to step up, he still hadn’t a clue what to do. Perhaps if it was anybody else, it might have been different. He can act as that ‘big brother, pat-on-the-head, you’ll be alright kiddo’ guy. But with you – no. He really wanted to be there for you, he really wanted to make an effort, get you to notice him – particularly when he’s struggled to open up and say things. He’s low-key hoping you would pick up on the subtle hints he’s dropped. But you hadn’t. Either you weren’t interested or you were completely oblivious. If it were the latter, then it only makes Reiner fall in love with you even more; you’re still able to carry such an innocence about you in this grim world. It’s an adorable trait.

Selfishly not wasting an opportunity, and to also generally help you too, he did what he thought was best, and he hoped he wasn’t overstepping the line by doing so. Holding you a little tighter, he maneuvered himself in two swift movements so that he was the one with his back to the wall, though his torso twisted to the right because you were still clinging to him like a frightened child. With his frame, it helped shield you from curious eyes and grant you that small piece of privacy. His arm came around your lower waist to anchor you to his side, his other arm dangling off the top of his bent leg. He glanced over at Bertholdt who was watching curiously and helplessly, Reiner simply gave him a nod of acknowledgement, hoping his friend would get the message that Reiner might not be moving from this position tonight. As uncomfortable as it might be, the aches and pains would be worth it if it meant being able to hold you, though preferably if it wasn’t under such conditions as this. Even with Reiner beside you, protectively holding you into his side, you still trembled with fear from the sound above you. Reiner eased the loneliness you felt, but he couldn’t ease the sound. The thunder was right above them, there was no reprieve between the loud claps and cracks, it was a constant low rumble threatening to erupt in a loud crack above them.

Whenever it did, your breathing hitched in your throat and you pressed yourself harder into his side. “Hey, it’s alright. I got you, okay? ‘M right here. It can’t hurt you. It’s just noise. That’s all it is. Just noise.” Reiners voice was enough to calm you down from the hysteria rising in your chest, ready to break forth into a panic attack. He seemed to have realized this when you weren’t trembling as violently as you had been before. He couldn’t seem to calm you down by physically reassuring you, so perhaps he could distract you by talking? It would seem you wouldn’t be getting any sleep regardless. “Why are you so afraid of thunder?” He did his best to ensure that his tone didn’t come across as ridiculing or patronizing; again, he really didn’t want to mess up this opportunity to form a deeper connection with you. Your hands still gripped your head, palms covering your ears in an attempt to block out the thundering sound, but your attempts were futile. But Reiner’s voice made its way through the sound you found frightful of the night, and it pulled you from that scared place. “Um…” you started, voice wavering as though you were on the verge of tears. “I-I just remember being scared one night… and no one was around… I don’t know where my parents were… and… I was just so scared… I didn’t know… I remember getting out of bed to go look for them, calling out to them… but the thunder got louder and louder until …” You recalled that night quite clearly. You were scared of the loud rumblings. So you got out of bed to find your parents and as you were helplessly calling out to them, a loud crack of thunder had you screaming and running for a safe place to hide – which ended up being closed in the pantry. You sat there, knees drawn up, small fingers gripping your hair as you cried helplessly. You just wanted the noise to stop. You just wanted your parents.

“…I guess it just never went away? … Pathetic isn’t it?” Reiner listened quietly, his heart sinking a little at imagining how scared you must have been at such a young age. The thunder never scared him, but even as a kid, he was still scared of things. And he stood by what he told you earlier, “No, it’s not. We’re all afraid of something. If it’s not these titans, then it’s something else. It’s alright though. It’s what it means to be human.” “But thunder? Of all things?” “Hey, I’m afraid of bugs so…” He felt you smile against him and then heard a faint little laugh. His heart skipped a beat hearing this, trying not to smile knowing he made you smile and laugh. Proud of himself that he was able to do so considering you looked and sounded ready to breakdown at any given moment. “Reiner?” Oh god, the sound of his name falling from your lips – ‘No. Stop it.’ “Yeah?” “Are you really afraid of bugs?” “No… Spiders though… Anything that’s got more than four legs.” Again, he heard that little laugh emit from your lips. He longed to glance down and see you smile and laugh again, but with your head ducked out of his view, he couldn’t see a damn thing. But, as fate would have it, the loud crack of thunder had the windows rattling violently, even disturbing those that were sleeping. You couldn’t take it anymore, and in that moment of pure fear, you broke. The scared cry of a little girl muffled behind hands that were trying to hold back the sobs. Your eyes tightly closed as you do your best from breaking down any further. Your Captain’s awake and on the other side of the goddamn it! But here you are, trembling violently and crying out for the man sitting beside you, “Reiner!” it was a helpless cry, one that actually really tugged painfully at his heartstrings. “I’m here.” He murmured as the hand that had been resting on his knee came over and guided your head down onto his chest. Immediately you could hear the steady sound of his heartbeat and your eyes flung open, the couple of tears you were holding in quietly escaping but nothing more. The violent trembling ceased to a mere shiver, but that was something Reiner couldn’t fully help with. He took most of the struggle away already. His other hand wrapped around the curve of your waist as he continued to hold you. Your small banter aside, he’s just only now realizing the seriousness of your fear of thunderstorms. Every single person in this room had a trauma of some sort; whether it related back to their childhood, or as of recent. Your trauma had become apparent to him, and he wished he knew sooner. He could have kept an eye on you as soon as the thunder began rumbling from a distance. He could have done something to prevent you from curling into a frightened ball, thinking you had to suffer through this alone despite being in a room full of people that are supposed to have your back; not just on the field, but off the field too. They weren’t just colleagues. They were comrades. Brothers-in-arms. Family. “If there’s ever another thunderstorm. You come to me, alright? ‘M not letting you go through this alone. Don’t care what time of the night it is, you come to me. Got it?” “Yeah, promise.” You murmured, your muscles already beginning to relax against his form. “Thank you Reiner. For everything.” “Don’t sweat it.” Had it not been for your Captain sitting across on the other side of the room, you would have leaned up and given Reiner a kiss on the cheek. Perhaps it was just as well because you would have put that poor boy in such a flustered state. For now, you were content where you were. You felt Reiner shift slightly so he could, at the very least, get semi-comfortable for the rest of the evening. His hand still remained clasped over the side of your head, holding you to his chest in an attempt to keep you grounded and block out the rumbling sound outside. His thumb absent-mindedly stroking your temple (honestly, he probably doesn’t realise he’s even doing this); between his firm hold, gentle caress, steady heart beat and the even rise and fall of his chest, you were easily lulled to sleep. This might have been the first time in over a decade or two that you managed to sleep through a thunderstorm. Reiner couldn’t sleep. How could he? He had you cradled against him! And, oh, how gloriously right it felt. He was too nervous to move. What if he woke you? He was even more nervous that his heart would start beating wildly in his chest and disturb you, so he forced himself to keep calm with deep, steady breaths and hope that would keep his heart beat at a normal, steady pace. Eventually, though, he must have succumbed to sleep, because Bertholdt found you both asleep together; you, curled up in his side, basically using his chest as a pillow, and him still holding you protectively against him – even in his sleep. It seemed almost cruel to disturb you both. But the rain let up, the sun is out, it’s best they move. There’ll be other moments like this to look forward to. At least, you hope so. You hoped this wasn’t just a ‘pity one-night-stand’ kind of thing. Not that you knew this, but for Reiner it certainly wasn’t. He said you weren’t alone, and he meant it. You had him. So long as you want him by your side, he’ll always be there. He’s got your back. Just come to him. Whatever you need, he’s there. | Tags: @commanderserwin

#your-wings-of-freedom #Reiner x Reader #Reiner Braun x Reader #AoT x Reader #attack on titan x read #attack on titan reiner #Reiner Braun Comfort #Reiner Braun Boyfriend #Reiner is underrated as a character and I'm not okay with that #Reiner needs love too

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typewrittenluck · 3 years

Text

Sorry General

AN: Okay hehe this is my first time ever posting a fic so be nice :/. It’s basically just self-indulgent Obi-Wan angst-fluff because I miss him and I’m excited for the new show. This takes place during The Clone Wars, Season 2, Episode 10. But you don’t have to watch it to understand what’s going on. Anyways enjoy!

Word Count: 2130

Warnings: None, Anakin being a lil’ shit

(gif creds to owner)

General Grievous had escaped yet again. It seemed as if every time the Jedi came close to capturing the sleaze ball, he would slip right through your hands. You could sense the tension in the air as everyone onboard the landing craft shared your anxiety, which increased your frustration by every person that you could feel through the force. It of course didn’t help that you were sent down to capture Grievous with none other than Obi-Wan Kenobi, who always had a knack for making you agitated.

As soon as the ship's doors opened, you began to take long strides out, already beginning to scope out the area and make mental notes of factors that might be influential to your mission.

At General Kenobi’s command, you and the troops began to move towards the wreckage of Grievous’s ship in hopes of finding something that would lead you to the General himself.

After scouting out the ship, Rex determined that the General couldn’t have been far off.

“We’ll split into teams. Rex, take Jesse, Hardcase, Kix, and Y/N and search those wetlands.” Obi-Wan said, gesturing vaguely in your direction.

“Actually, Kenobi,” you spat, “Seeing as I am a General, and therefore rank above Captian Rex, I will lead the troops to conduct a search of the wetlands.”

“Oh, right, of course General Y/N. I wouldn’t want to undermine your notable past with leading battalions and strategy missions.” His voice dripped with sarcasm.

“Why I ought to-”

“Excuse me, Generals, if I may,” Rex stepped in between you two. “we really shouldn’t get distracted from the situation at hand.”

“Yes, of course Captain.” you replied, still glaring at Obi-Wan. “We should get going”

“Right. Cody, you, Crys, and I will pick it up from here.” said Obi-Wan. “Oh, and one more thing,” he said, turning to face you. “If you get a visual on General Grievous, for the love of the force Master Y/N, make contact before you make any rash decisions to engage.”

“From the two of us, Master Kenobi,” you replied, “It is not I who have a track record of making rash decisions.”

Once you were out of earshot, Cody spoke up. “Forgive me General, but you seem worried. I’m sure that General Y/N and Rex are capable of handling this. They are both very wise individuals.”

Obi-Wan stroked his beard, apparently deep in thought. “Yes. Wise indeed.”

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

You felt a tug on the force and turned around just in time to see Rex get shot by a Commando droid.

“REX!” you screamed, as you and the clones rushed over to him.

Jesse and Hardcase finished off the last few droids before joining the small crowd gathering around Rex. It was deemed that the safest plan was to find shelter for the night, so that Rex could heal.

You and the clones made sure that Rex was as comfortable as possible and well-taken care of in the barn that you had secured a place in before you hopped on your speeders and continued your search of the wetlands.

“General, if it’s not too personal to ask, why do you and General Kenobi seem to fight about everything?” Jesse piped up after a little while.

“That is an extremely inappropriate question to ask your commanding officer soldier.” you snapped back.

“Right. Sorry.”

But it was too late. The question opened the floodgates that you worked so hard to keep closed. The overpowering emotions that you trapped behind a wall came rushing out and now, that was all that you could think about.

The constant questions. Why did Obi-Wan hate you? Why did he feel like you were inferior? Why is he so adamant that you shouldn’t be in charge of battles?

The constant anxiety. What if it’s a reflection of what the council thinks of me? What if everyone else feels that way too and they are just better at hiding it? What if I pass on my incompetence to my Padawan?

And above all, the crippling guilt. You were guilty because you felt responsible for him not liking you. You felt guilty because you broke the code. You felt guilty. Because you loved Obi-Wan Kenobi.

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

Obi-Wan had been a Padawan for a mere two weeks, when a young girl from Dantooine had opened the doors to the Jedi temple, leading the way for an amused group of older Jedi. She had begun her training not long thereafter. On her first day, she walked into the training room and looked around, scoping out the area to decide where she would be comfortable. To Obi-Wan’s surprise, she picked a spot next to him.

Since that fateful day, their friendship blossomed, mainly due to the fact that their masters, Qui Gon Jinn and Ki-Adi-Mundi, were good friends. Obi-Wan and Y/N became very close. Closer, in fact, than any member of the Jedi order should become to another lifeform. But it was inevitable. The two were so alike and their personalities clashed together perfectly, as if the force had made it so that the two would meet. All of the older Jedi sensed the rising emotions in the two young apprentices, and they felt the need to take preventative measures. So when a mission with an indefinite length popped up on the faraway land of Mandalore, the council saw it as the best opportunity to give the two a break from each other. They sent Obi-Wan on a year long trip to ensure the safety of Mandalores sovereign ruler, Satine Kryze.

Y/N spent her time away from her best friend meditating on her emotions, and came to the conclusion that she had fallen for him. It was against the code. It was against her plan. But she had fallen, and fallen hard.

Obi-Wan ended up with a similar conclusion, after realizing that his emotions towards Satine were anything but new feelings, and he had experienced those same emotions a hundred times stronger towards Y/N.

The problem was that the two apprentices dealt with their feelings in completely different ways. Y/N became awkward and always on edge, and Obi-Wan saw it best to cut her out of his life as much as possible.

Which led them to where they were now. Grown members of the Jedi order who were still harboring childhood crushes on each other, buried deep, deep down.

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

You were cut out of your train of thought by Obi-Wans voice.

“Captain Rex, come in please.”

“This is Y/N, Rex was injured.” you replied, still a little dazed by your sudden surge of emotion.

“What’s his condition?”

“He’ll be fine, but we had to find him shelter for the night.”

“Grievous is on the move. We’re headed to the West.” said Obi-Wan. “Swing around and we can meet up at the final escape pod. We’re going to need all of the firepower that we can muster.”

“Alright, we’re on our way.” you said, sharply turning your speeder around as the clones did the same.

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

You arrived at Obi-Wans position just as you saw a ship attempting to land. You ran into the fray of flying bullets and disembodied droid limbs, jabbing and parrying with your lightsaber to get to Obi-Wan.

“Concentrate your fire on that ship!” he roared to the tanks.

He got distracted by his wrist-com and didn't see a laser ray coming straight at the back of his neck.

“Keep firing. Don't let that ship land.” he said, as you jumped behind him, drawing your lightsaber to deflect the bullet. He seemed shocked by your sudden appearance.

“I believe a thank you, Master Y/N, is in order.” you dead-panned.

He rolled his eyes, but mumbled an unintelligible thanks.

“The guns are overheated!” you heard a clone say from his wrist-com.

“It’s always something.” Obi-Wan grumbled in response. “Cody, Jesse, cover me!”

“Wait!” you exclaimed after him. “Where are you- oh nevermind.” you sighed as you saw him speed towards Grievous. You sprinted after him, knowing that he would need help.

He began fighting the foul droid General, their battle just a blur of blue and green light.

Just as you arrived at the fight, Grievous was climbing up the side of the ship. “Forget trying to land.” he growled in his raspy voice. You, however, were preoccupied with Obi-Wan who was knocked to the side. He groaned as you knelt by him, reaching feebly behind you as you heard Grievous say “Fire the engines.”

He was lifted into the night sky, narrowly dodging clone bullets as he laughed maniacally. “Jedi scum!”

“Are you alright?” you asked him.

“No.” he sighed in frustration. “We’re right back where we started!”

He called back to Cody. “Call the cruisers, see if they can stop that ship! And tell them to send someone to pick us up.”

You sensed his frustration and heard the defeat in his voice.

“Obi-Wan,” you started tentatively.

“What?” he snapped, his anger evident.

“I know it seems like a total failure-”

“Oh but it is!” he cut you off with contempt. “I’ve lost countless troops, just trying to capture Grievous, and now he’s right there. And I let him slip right past my fin-”

“No!” you cut him off this time. “This kind of talk is what leads to anger. You and I both know that anger leads you down the path of the dark side. This isn’t your fault Obi-Wan.”

Calling him by his first name is what, over all the other things, seemed to get through his head. “You don’t,” he stopped, looking into your eyes. “Blame me?”

And in that moment, standing in an empty battlefield in the middle of Saleucami, you both knew that he was talking about much more than this lost battle.

“You’ve done all that you can do. You did what you thought was right.” you replied.

He opened his mouth to speak but was cut off by Cody, saying that the transport had arrived to take you all back to the main ship. You two held eye contact for a brief moment before turning and heading in the direction that Cody had gone.

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

You stood in the bridge, looking out of the enormous window with Admiral Yularen right beside you. A droid came up behind you two and tapped you on the shoulder.

“Jedi Master Y/N, Jedi Master Obi-Wan requests your presence.”

“How is he?” you asked.

“He is doing well! He has sustained only minor injuries and will heal very soon!” the droid replied chirpily.

“That’s a relief. Where does he want me to meet him?”

“His private quarters, I believe.”

“Top secret Jedi business, I presume.” chuckled Yularen as you blushed a bright red. You had a sneaking suspicion that this had nothing to do with the Jedi order.

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

“Y/N.” He greeted you, bowing his head and using the force to close the door behind you.

“Obi-Wan.”

“I’m sorry.” he blurted, taking you a little by surprise by his bluntness. “I know that I confused you and I make you feel unwanted at times and I am the reason our friendship was ruined and I promise I have an explanation which is no excuse but you deserve to know why I-” he stopped rambling when he saw your raised eyebrows and caught himself.

He took a deep breath before beginning again.

“I had a lot of time to think when I was on Mandalore. But I kept thinking about the same thing. You. I couldn’t stop. And it was all that got me through each day, the thought of your face, and your smile, and your laugh. But that’s against the code. And the only way that I could get over you was to cut you off. But it didn’t work because by the stars and the planets Y/N, I love you. I care deeply for Jedi traditions and maintaining the code, but I love you Y/N. I’m sorry.”

“Oh Obi,” you sighed, stepping closer to him. “I realized it same as you. We have been drawn to each other since we met. It’s almost as if the force wanted us to be. And every day since that day that you left for Mandalore, I have looked at the sunrise, hoping that one day, it will bring light to what we once had.” You placed your hand on his scruffy cheek and stroked his jaw as he leaned into your touch. “I love you too.”

He pulled you into a hug, burying his face into your hair as you wrapped your arms tightly around his waist.

“Master- Oh! Sorry!” Anakin walked in, making you and Obi-Wan leap to opposite sides of the room, both of you burning a bright crimson color. Anakin’s eyes darted between the two of you, a smirk growing on his face.

“Not a word, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said sternly, already having an idea of the things that he knew that his former Padawan would say.

AN Again: I just really want a hug from this man

#star wars #Clone Wars #obi wan fluff #obi wan kenobi #obi wan fic #obi wan x reader #obi wan imagine

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bi-naesala · 3 years

Text

A well-earned break

Fandom: Yakuza

Rating: E

Warnings: /

Relationships: Han Joon-gi/Zhao Tianyou, Kim Yeonsu/Zhao Tianyou

Characters: Zhao Tianyou, Han Joon-gi, Kim Yeonsu

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Quickies, Blow Jobs, Nonbinary Zhao Tianyou

Summary:

Zhao takes advantage of a break during an Ijin Three meeting to have some fun with Joon-Gi Han.

(Also on AO3)

It’s during situations like this one that his father’s words echo in Zhao’s head: he has no patience, which is a bad trait for a leader. Well, guess what, pops? He is a bad leader, and no working on his flaws will ever fix that, even if he were willing to try it.

Though, he supposes, if he were more patient, maybe this meeting wouldn’t be so excruciatingly fucking boring. This isn’t even Liumang business per se, but more like something that the Geomijul and the Seiryu clan should’ve been able to solve between them, but politics are politics and Zhao, as much as he doesn’t want to be there, isn’t so foolish not to remain, lest they disrupt the carefully crafted equilibrium between the Ijin Three.

Still, if there was a way to make things less boring, they surely wouldn’t be upset about it…

Taking advantage of a well-earned break, he goes to hang in the lounge with some of their boys, as well as members of the Seiryu clan and the Geomijul, when a stupid idea comes to him. It’s not mortal - because Zhao’s aware that, if he dies here, it would mean war - but it could still be dangerous, which in their humble opinion makes it even more alluring.

He scouts his surroundings, and he’s surprised to see that the person he’s looking for is actually here, which is weird because he’d usually be attached to Seong-hui during times like this, but Seong-hui isn’t here.

Oh well, it’ll be easier for him to approach him at least, which he does immediately.

“Are my eyes deceiving me, or is that Joon-gi Han? Shrinking from his errand boy duties?”

If Zhao has managed to get a rise out of the other, there is no sign of it on his face. Stoic son of a bitch.

“Zhao-san,” he greets him, in that usual polite tone of his, lightly bowing his head.

“C’mon Han-kun, there’s no need to be so formal,” Zhao states; after all, his dislike for this kind of stuff is well known.

“Nonetheless, hierarchy exists for a reason, and it would be uncouth of me not to respect it,” Joon-gi replies, though he quickly adds, “And to answer your previous question, no, I’m not ‘shrinking’ from my duties. I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Cryptic answers are Han’s specialty, but at least it’s enough for Zhao to understand that, whatever he’s doing, he’s doing it under Seong-Hui’s orders. Interesting.

“Then I suppose I couldn’t steal some of your time?” they ask, exaggerating his innocent demeanor so that he’ll make Han suspicious.

It works: Han narrows his eyes at him, though no matter how hard he’s trying to keep a neutral demeanor, Zhao can see through his bullshit. He knows he’s intrigued. If Zhao has picked on the signs correctly - and they usually do - then his interest for the other is reciprocated - and how could it not be? They’re both quite attractive after all.

“What for?” Han asks, and yet he hasn’t explicitly said no. If Zhao had felt like showing all his cards, he would’ve smirked at that.

They take a step closer. “Don’t you think this meeting’s boring? Personally, I hate that we’re stuck in here at least for another hour,” he says.

Joon-gi Han doesn’t say anything, but he raises an eyebrow at him, a silent invite to continue.

“Well, if you’re so interested, I might share the idea I’ve just had after all…”

“I-I don’t think we should do this here,” Han suddenly mutters.

What comes out of Zhao’s lips in an amused huff. “Could’ve said it sooner, huh?”

Did he really just wait for them to get inside one of the bathroom stalls and for Zhao to drop to their knees before having second though?

“If you really don’t want to, fine, but man, what a shitty timing…”

If Han is really getting cold feet, Zhao will stop, but this doesn’t mean that he won’t be a bit sad about it - though he’ll never openly show it because that would be admitting that he’s not as above everything as he appears.

Joon-gi Han stays silent for a moment, probably thinking about the repercussions this affair will have. Always the overthinker.

His answer, though, surprises Zhao.

“Very well. Carry on.”

“W-What?” Zhao stutters, taken aback by the sudden change.

“Do I need to repeat myself?” Han asks, only to then smirk. “Unless you are the one who’s having second thoughts…”

This little…

Zhao furrows their eyebrows, and a frown appears on his face before he can stop it and keep his usual laid-back demeanor. As he reaches Han’s pants and fumbles with the belt, there’s only one thing they can think.

“I’ll show you.”

They do indeed show him, given the way Han is barely able to keep his voice down, even going as far as to cover his mouth in order to muffle those little noises that, despite his best efforts, still come out.

Zhao isn’t perturbed by any of this shit, and keeps sucking his dick like a champ. He keeps it quite simple, only pulling a few tricks when it looks like Han’s getting used to the rhythm he’s dictating just because they want to keep him on his toes; it’s not often that he gets to see the Joon-gi Han like this, with his guard lowered, and he intends to make the most of it.

It’s an intoxicating feeling, Zhao can’t lie. The more Han loses his composure, the more addicted they feel to it.

When Han’s hand shoots to grab their hair, Zhao knows he has him wrapped all around his finger, and so he begins to slow down, right when Han was beginning to feel close to the orgasm.

He almost smirks at the frustrated huff that he lets out, but no matter what, Zhao will not go faster than this. Well, there is something that could give them an incentive, but Han has to say it first.

“Zhao-san.”

Cute, he’s calling for him now, but unfortunately this isn’t what Zhao’s waiting for.

“Zhao-san… faster.”

Closer, but still not it.

Taking pity on him, Zhao pulls away, gaze fixed on his face. “What’s the magic word?” they ask, pointing Han to the right direction.

At first Han remains silent, but the need to come soon takes over whatever sense of dignity or shame he must be feeling right now. Zhao almost wants to take a picture of him, to immortalize how red he’s become - and he can’t even look at him in the eyes!

“Faster… please…”

“That wasn’t so hard, wasn’t it?” Zhao teases him, though he’s merciful enough to wrap their lips around Han’s dick again, sucking it way harder than he was doing before.

Now that he’s actually putting some effort in this blowjob, Han doesn’t last long.

You’d figure that someone so intent in trying to make the least amount of noise possible would keep it that way throughout the whole ordeal, but Han half-shouts that he’s close, surprising even Zhao. He either has a secret exhibitionism kink, or Zhao must’ve driven him so mad that he’s not noticing how loud he’s being. Zhao hopes it’s the second.

Knowing that they can’t make a mess - not that he truly needs an excuse to do this - Zhao doesn’t pull away when Han comes, swallowing everything. Only then they pull away, making a show of licking his lips just to fluster Han further, succeeding of course.

The expression on his face is almost comical as he watches Zhao. Is he going to act scandalized now of all times?

In response, Zhao flashes him a smile, and that seems to get Han out of his trance, as he helps him up. Zhao’s lucky their joints don’t crack, but damn it doesn’t feel good to suddenly stand after staying on his knees for such a long time. Eh, they’re not as young as he once was; being almost thirty, he’s basically decrepit now - mental note: never say something like that near chairman Hoshino, or he might get offended or worse, he’d try to lecture them.

“Zhao-san… Um…”

Han’s voice is enough to bring Zhao back to the present, saving him the embarrassment of going on a tangent in their head about aging. Right, he’s still in the bathroom with him.

He recovers immediately, diverting Han’s attention by lightly patting on his cheek. “So? Good, huh?”

“I fear saying so will only succeed in further boosting your ego,” Han replies, matter-of-factly as always. “But… it was.”

“Aw, thank you Han-kun~” Zhao replies, purposefully standing way too close to Han than he should, just to elicit another reaction out of him, but he wasn’t expecting Han to grab them by the neck and draw him for a deep kiss. They can’t help but to let out a noise of surprise, which cause Han to smile against his lips, but oh well, it’s not like Zhao can complain about it.

Wouldn’t you know it, not only he has a nice dick, but he’s also a good kisser.

As much as Zhao would love to spend whatever time they have left here, kissing Han and maybe going back to do something more, he knows that he has a duty to attend to, no matter how much they don’t want to do it, so he has to unfortunately pull away from those sweet, sweet lips.

“Well, as much as I’d love to stay here, we should go back,” they say, then. Han nods, but it’s hard for Zhao to understand how he feels about it; he hopes he’s going to miss this closeness too.

“Yes, Zhao-san. It would be wise to join back with the others.”

After getting out of the bathroom, Zhao still attempts to make some small talk, because lord forbids he keeps their mouth shut for once.

“You know, you don’t have to call me Zhao-san all formal like that, especially while I suck you off. Makes me feel older than I actually am.”

“Even if I wanted to, I cannot,” Han replies. “I have to respect the chain of command, no matter what.”

“Didn’t see you thinking about that back there,” Zhao teases him, pointing to the bathroom with their head. He almost laughs at the offended expression on Han’s face at his words.

“Well…” the other begins, clearly trying to find a clever comeback. “That was an exception,” is what he comes up with, before beginning to walk away.

If he walks faster, they might be able to keep up with him, running after him like a schoolgirl with her senpai isn’t something Zhao would do, so he stays behind.

“Oh, come on, don’t act like a child!” they shout after him, but Han doesn’t stop his tracks, not that Zhao expected him to do so.

“Well, that was fun anyway! Call me if you want to do it again!” he adds, then, but this time as well he gets no reaction from Han, though they notice that his step falters just for a moment, so he must’ve breached through.

After this nice diversion, unfortunately they have to head back to the meeting, but now his mind feels lighter at least. He’ll be able to handle another few hours of this bullshit.

And so they settle down at the business table and lets Seong-hui and Hoshino discuss what they need to discuss, all while his mind is pleasantly blank, focused only on remembering the sweet sounds that Joon-gi Han made while their lips were wrapped up around his cock.

Man, that was fun. The only downside is that he won’t be able to brag about it, because if word goes around of what happened, both his and Han’s reputations would suffer from it. Oh well, at least he can be internally proud of himself.

They wonder if Han will ever be willing to repeat the experience; as for him, he knows for a fact that he’d love to do it again, and maybe even beyond a hushed blowjob inside a toilet stall.

Oh well, he won’t get an answer just wondering about it, but they’re not worried about that, because of course he’ll try to ask Han again - see, having no sense of shame does help in life!

Despite their effort, he can’t contain a small smirk on his lips, though they’re quick to cover it with his mouth, pretending he’s pondering on what is being discussed.

This is going to be so much fun.

#zhaohan #tianyou zhao #joon-gi han #yakuza #rgg #yakuza like a dragon #spicy #mine #kim yeonsu #my fics

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ladiemars · 4 years

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Some Much Needed Rest

➳ for @31daysofwayhaven, day 13 (apology)

pairing: francine fairbanks x adam du mortain

words: 2663

summary: after the rescue mission, frankie just wants adam to rest—but nothing is ever that easy when it comes to adam, and naturally an argument between the two ensues.

note: this is a fic i wrote back in july, but since it fit the prompt and i’m currently swamped with school work, i thought i’d post it here

➳ read it on ao3

Frankie knew it was only a matter of time until Adam crawled out of that hospital bed, and she knew that when he did, it would likely be far too soon. But she still wasn’t expecting to see him walk through the doors of the warehouse’s common room after only one day of rest.

Frankie stood abruptly from her perch on the edge of the couch when he strolled in, her eyes wide as if she had seen a ghost. “Adam?” she gaped.

Adam raised a brow at her odd greeting. “Hello, Detective,” he said in that familiar cool, stilted tone.

Instead of the hospital gown she had seen him in last, Adam was now dressed casually in just a t-shirt and combat trousers. If not for the white bandages creeping up his neck and down his right arm, Frankie never would have guessed that anything was wrong.

But something was wrong. Adam might be alert and walking, but she had seen his injuries firsthand, and she knew how bad they were. Even with his healing abilities, there was no way he was fine, just like that. He should be in the hospital, resting.

So why wasn’t he?

It was a stupid question to ask herself. Frankie took one look at him and she knew why. It was because he was a stubborn idiot who was too prideful to admit he was hurt. Normally, Frankie found that kind of endearing about him, but after what he had just been through—no, what she had just been through, seeing him hurt, worrying herself sick—she found it to be considerably less so.

In fact, it made her angry.

“I didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” Frankie said, trying not to snap the words but not entirely succeeding. Anyone else may have missed it, but not Adam. He had a lot of experience arguing with Frankie, and recognized her shift in tone instantly.

“I was released early,” he said, looking down at her with a frown.

“Really?” She raised a skeptical brow. “Because when I spoke to your doctor last, he strongly recommended that you take at least few days of rest."

Adam rolled his eyes, crossing his arms over his chest, and Frankie tried very hard not to notice the way the fabric of his t-shirt stretched over his arms. No, she didn’t notice it at all. “I don't know what my doctors told you while I was unconscious, Francine, but I'm perfectly fine,” Adam said.

“Fine?” Frankie huffed. “Apparently we have a very different way of pronouncing the word unreasonable.”

Adam visibly bristled, his shoulders stiffening as he narrowed his eyes at Frankie. Unreasonable was something he always called other people, and oh, how he hated to have it thrown right back at him. Beside her, Mason let out a low whistle and reached into his pocket for a cigarette, glancing between the two of them with a raised brow while Felix grinned and rubbed his hands together excitedly.

But before Adam could open his mouth and respond to Frankie with the scathing retort she knew was on the tip of his tongue, Nate stood up as well, placing himself between the two of them.

“However we might feel about it, Adam is here now,” Nate said, his hands raised in a placating gesture. “There’s nothing that we can do about that now. So let’s just work, shall we?”

Frankie frowned at this but complied, sinking back into the cushion of her seat with a frown and crossed arms. This fight was futile, she knew, and however angry she might be, she wasn’t willing to put Nate through any more stress. Despite being worried about Adam himself, Nate had been her rock throughout this whole ordeal. This was the least she could do for him.

“Good! I'm glad we could settle this,” Nate smiled, but it was obvious to them all that it was strained. “Adam, we were just discussing possible locations to move the maa-alused if they accept the treaty.”

Nate gestured to the map-littered coffee table they were all sitting around, and Adam’s eyes lingered on Frankie only a moment longer before he dragged them away. “Show me our options.”

As the two of them sat down across from her and began going over the maps, Frankie felt her phone buzz with an incoming text. She pulled it out of her pocket and glanced down at the name on her lock screen.

Elidor.

My least favorite patient has escaped, the fae nurse said. She could practically feel his exasperation through the screen.

Oh, I’m aware, Frankie replied.

Elidor’s response was immediate. I don’t know whether to be worried he’s gone or impressed that he even managed to stand up and walk out of here.

So it was true, then. Adam wasn’t fine. Frankie glanced at him from across the coffee table as he nodded along to Nate’s explanation. He seemed perfectly normal—that is, until he shifted his weight uncomfortably. Not a lot, and with only a small, suppressed wince, but Frankie didn’t miss it.

Her heart squeezed in her chest. God, why couldn’t he just take care of himself? If not for his own sake, then at least for the sake of the people that cared about him.

Because Frankie did care about him. A lot. She cared about him far more than she had ever realized, and far more than she was ready to admit to herself. She just knew that she needed him to be well again, to go back to throwing tree trunks and accidentally breaking doors by closing them too hard. She needed the way he smiled at her when no one else was looking, the way he—

“It’s settled, then,” Adam said suddenly, snapping her out of her thoughts. “We’ll scout the cave. It seems the most suitable location for the maa-alused.”

Frankie watched as the four vampires around her nodded and stood up suddenly. Nate grabbed his leather jacket off the back of the couch while Mason put out his cigarette, and Felix bounded towards the door like an excited puppy, Adam following slightly behind.

“Wait!” Frankie said, the words rushing out of her to stop them from leaving.

They all turn to look at her.

Adam was not going to be able to keep up with them, but he was almost certainly going to overexert himself trying. What if he worsened his injuries? What if he collapsed? What if they got ambushed, and he was too weak to defend himself?

Frankie had to say something, anything to get Adam to stay. But if she implied too strongly that he wasn't fit for duty, he would storm out right then and there just to prove to her that he was, and trying to rouse his withered sense of self-preservation wasn’t going to cut it, either. No, she needed a reason he’d find tactical sense in as the leader of Unit Bravo. That was the only way to get through to him.

Think, think, think.

“Adam,” she said slowly, drawing out the two syllables of his name to give herself that much longer, “you’ve missed a lot. Why don’t you stay and let me catch you up on everything that’s been going on?”

Damn it. That was an awful excuse. There was no way he’d—

“Okay,” Adam nodded after barely a moment of consideration. “I’ll stay.”

Nate glanced nervously between the two of them, but thankfully he didn’t object. “Alright,” he said. “We’ll be back soon.”

Frankie let out an internal sigh of relief as the three of them walked out of the room without another comment, leaving her and Adam alone.

Adam moved to the window and leaned against it, staring out into the forest with his arms crossed over his chest. Frankie wondered with a pang of anxiety if he was having trouble standing on his own.

“Tell me what I missed.”

Frankie strolled over to where he stood and seated herself on the windowsill beside him, leaving a comfortable amount of space between the two of them. “The maa-alused seem to be behaving,” she said. “No one new has been afflicted with the disease, but nobody has recovered, either.”

“I suppose that’s good news,” he replied. He was still looking out the window, and the sunlight cast his face in a warm, amber glow. For a moment Frankie might have even dared to say he looked gentle—at least until he asked, “And your friend? How is he?”

He was talking about Bobby, she realized. “Oh. He’s… stable,” she said, deciding it was probably best not to mention the fact that she’d been going to the facility nearly every day to check on him. She hated Bobby, despised him, honestly, but it was because of her weakness that he had even been in her apartment that night.

“Good,” Adam said. His lips tightened into a thin line, and Frankie wondered if somehow he knew about her visits. “What else?”

“Well, with Bobby in a coma, we’ve been spared any more headlines. So the town is relatively calm, considering there’s been an outbreak of a deadly supernatural disease.”

Adam nodded and waited for her to continue, but Frankie realized with a sudden burst of panic that she had nothing else to say. Her excuse to get him to stay with her was just that: an excuse. After all, he really was only gone for one day. There wasn’t much to catch him up on. At least nothing that warranted him staying behind just to talk to her.

Frankie rubbed her lips together nervously as she searched her mind for something else to tell him. “The mayor’s annual charity dinner is coming up,” she said, remembering the invitations that had arrived that morning. “He invited all of us.”

“That’s not really important right now. I need to know what’s imperative to Unit Bravo’s success on this mission.”

Damn. What else could she tell him? “Uh… well, Felix ruined another load of Mason’s laundry. Nate had to step in to stop him from killing Felix. You probably need to have a conversation with them.”

Confusion and mild annoyance that flickered in Adam’s eyes as he looked down at her. “I said imperative to the mission.”

“This is. I mean, you know as well as any how personal relationships impact the way our unit works together in the field.”

Adam glared at her. “Francine…”

“Oh, and we’re thinking about starting a weekly movie night for the unit.”

He whirled to face her completely. He was definitely irritated. “This is the important information you wanted me to stay for?” he asked incredulously.

"You’re not missing anything, Adam. That cave has been there for thousands of years, it will still be there tomorrow," she shot back at him. And then, because she just couldn’t help herself, "whereas you might not be, if you overexert yourself."

Frankie watched his expression change from irritation to barely controlled anger as he put the pieces together, realizing that she never really had anything to tell him. That this was a continuation of their almost-argument from before. “I am not going to argue with you about my health, Francine,” he growled, as if it were so very outlandish that she was concerned about him, and then promptly turned and started walking towards the door.

Leaving, like always.

And like always, Frankie followed after him.

“Where are you going?” she snapped, no longer bothering to conceal her anger or control her voice. Not like him.

“If I leave now, I might still be able to catch up with them,” he said over his shoulder.

For a few seconds, Frankie stood there speechless. Then, without even realizing what she was doing, she ran in front of him and planted herself between him and the door. “You can’t.”

He stared at her flatly, but he didn’t move. “Francine—“

“Please, don’t,” she pleaded. All of the anger and frustration flushed out of her body, now replaced by worry.

"I have no need for rest, as I have told you many times."

She looked at him desperately. "I saw the wounds, Adam. You can't just sit there and tell me you're fit to go back to work right after that.” She swallowed hard. “After you've had your blood all over me."

Every time Frankie closed her eyes, she could still see the way his body had looked, laying there on the cold cement floor of the sewers. The way his chest rose with ragged, irregular, shallow breaths as she cradled him, how the blood had pooled beneath on his shirt, thick and dark in the low light.

"Do you have any idea what it was like for me?" Frankie asked, voice cracking wetly. "I almost lost you—"

Something flashed in Adam’s eyes, and he stepped closer. “Yes, I do know what that’s like, actually.”

Oh. Frankie’s hand drifted up to brush the scar on her neck, as it always did when she thought of Murphy. “It’s not the same.”

“It is, actually.”

“No, it’s not. Murphy wasn’t your fault.”

“One could argue that my failure to keep you safe—“

Something inside Frankie snapped. “You were hurt because of me, Adam!” she shouted, and his mouth snapped shut. “It was because of my choice that you almost died!”

He looked at her for a long moment before speaking. “You did as I wanted. Did what was needed,” he told her eventually, voice level.

“What you needed was help, and I made the choice not to, knowing that you were outnumbered. Knowing that you might get hurt.” Her hand drifted to his injured arm, to the bandages that it was wrapped in, brushing over it gently. “And you did.”

Adam stiffened under her touch, but Frankie didn’t notice. There was a hot, hard lump in her throat. It hurt to breathe around it, and the breakable, panicked feeling that had been in her chest since the moment Adam had walked in was swelling, a balloon about to burst.

She was about to cry, she realized with sudden horror. Frankie pulled her hand back and looked away from him sharply. She had to get out of there immediately, before she made an even bigger fool of herself.

“Go join them, then,” Frankie said, turning away. She would just flee to the kitchen and hope he didn't follow. “I don’t care.”

Before she could walk away, a large hand closed around her shoulder, and Adam pulled her into him. She collided with the hard wall of his chest with a hard exhale, and it took her a long moment of standing there against him with her forehead pressed against his shoulder to realize that he was trying to hug her.

This was… new. Frankie could feel the tension radiating off of him, but he didn’t move away. One hand was resting again between her shoulder blades, stiff and wary, as if he wasn’t entirely sure where to put it, and it wasn’t until she wound her arms around his middle and held him back that he seemed to relax a little into the embrace.

"I am sorry you had to make that choice," he spoke quietly, as though divulging a secret. "And I am sorry you had to see me like that."

His breath moved them both, slow and deep, and she felt his cheek brush the top of her head as he pulled her closer. That distinct antiseptic smell of the hospital still clung to him, but it was oddly comforting.

“You’re sorry, but you’re still not going to rest, are you?” she murmured against him.

“I won’t get back into bed,” he said. “But I’ll stay.”

Frankie groaned, burying her face into his shoulder. “I hate you.”

She didn’t see the sad smile that touched Adam’s lips, but she did hear the words he spoke into her hair. “It would be easier for me, if that were true.”

#im much less confident in my writing than i am my art #be nice 2 me #the wayhaven chronicles #adam du mortain #31daysofwayhaven #wayhaven #twc #wayhaven chronicles #a du mortain #francine fairbanks #frankie fairbanks

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aboveallarescuer · 4 years

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Daenerys Targaryen in A Storm of Swords vs Game of Thrones - Episodes 3.7 & 3.8: The Bear and the Maiden Fair & Second Sons

In this series of posts, I intend to analyze precisely how the show writers downplayed or erased several key aspects of Daenerys Targaryen’s characterization, even when they had the books to help them write her as the compelling, intelligent, compassionate, frugal, open-minded and self-critical character that GRRM created.

I want to make it clear that these posts are not primarily meant to offer a better alternative to what the show writers gave us. I understand that they had many constraints (e.g. other storylines to handle, a limited amount of time to write the scripts, budget, actors who may have asked for a certain number of lines, etc) working against them. However, considering how disrespectful the show’s ending was to Daenerys Targaryen and how the book material that they left out makes it even more ludicrous to think that she will also become a villain in A Song of Ice and Fire, I believe that these reviews are more than warranted. They are meant to dissect everything about Dany’s characterization that was lost in translation, with a lot of book evidence to corroborate my statements.

Since these reviews will dissect scene by scene, I recommend taking a look at this post because I will use its sequence to order Dany’s scenes.

This post is relevant in case you want to know which chapters were adapted in which GoT episodes (however, I didn’t make the list myself, all the information comes from the GoT Wiki, so I can’t guarantee that it’s 100% reliable).

In general, I will call the Dany from the books “Dany” and the Dany from the TV series “show!Dany”.

Episode 3.7, "The Bear and the Maiden Fair", was written by George R. R. Martin himself and is one of the two scripts that he wrote and that show!Dany appears in (the other is episode 1.8, "The Pointy End"). Because the quality of show!Dany's screentime is obviously improved thanks to the influence of her creator, I decided to talk about episodes 3.7 and 3.8 (which was written by David Benioff and D. B. Weiss) in a single post in order to highlight the former's strengths and the latter's weaknesses.

Episode 3.7: The Bear and the Maiden Fair

Scene 6

JORAH: Your Grace. Yunkai. The Yellow City.

BARRISTAN: The Yunkish train bed slaves, not soldiers. We can defeat them.

JORAH: On the field, with ease. But they won't meet us on the field. They have provisions, patience, and strong walls. If they're wise, they'll hide behind those walls and chip away at us, man by man.

DAENERYS: I don't want half my army killed before I've crossed the Narrow Sea.

Dany's initial conflict in the books is different from that of her show counterpart:

“Are those slave soldiers they lead?”

“In large part. But not the equal of Unsullied. Yunkai is known for training bed slaves, not warriors.”

“What say you? Can we defeat this army?”

“Easily,” Ser Jorah said. “But not bloodlessly.” Blood aplenty had soaked into the bricks of Astapor the day that city fell, though little of it belonged to her or hers.

“We might win a battle here, but at such cost we cannot take the city.”

“That is ever a risk, Khaleesi. Astapor was complacent and vulnerable. Yunkai is forewarned.”

Dany considered. The slaver host seemed small compared to her own numbers, but the sellswords were ahorse. She’d ridden too long with Dothraki not to have a healthy respect for what mounted warriors could do to foot. The Unsullied could withstand their charge, but my freedmen will be slaughtered. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As the quote shows, in the books, Dany's victory against Yunkai is quite likely, but it comes at the expense of the Astapori freedmen's lives, which Dany isn't willing to risk. Unfortunately, as I mentioned before in previous reviews, the Astapori who decided to follow Dany in the books are not introduced in the show, so this conflict can't exist for show!Dany.

Instead, the show focuses on the possibility of the Yunkish refusing to surrender by staying inside the city and letting show!Dany's army starve. I'm not a fan of this change because it's uninspired; it's too much like Dany's initial problem in Meereen:

“...Perhaps we can starve the city out.”

Ser Jorah looked unhappy. “We’ll starve long before they do, Your Grace. There’s no food here, nor fodder for our mules and horses. I do not like this river water either. Meereen shits into the Skahazadhan but draws its drinking water from deep wells. Already we’ve had reports of sickness in the camps, fever and brownleg and three cases of the bloody flux. There will be more if we remain. The slaves are weak from the march.”

“Freedmen,” Dany corrected. “They are slaves no longer.”

“Slave or free, they are hungry and they’ll soon be sick. The city is better provisioned than we are, and can be resupplied by water. Your three ships are not enough to deny them access to both the river and the sea.” (ASOS Daenerys V)

It seems that this change was made not just because the Astapori freedmen were not included in show!Dany's story, but also because the events of ASOS Daenerys IV are being stretched out for four episodes (from this one until the season finale). This would explain why the show writers ultimately decided to introduce the sellswords in the next episode instead of in this one, which is another departure from the books, where they're introduced right away:

“Those are sellswords on the flanks. Lances and mounted bowmen, with swords and axes for the close work. The Second Sons on the left wing, the Stormcrows to the right. About five hundred men apiece. See the banners?” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the books, Yunkai is already prepared to wage war against Dany if it's necessary. The possibility of a siege is never brought up.

In the show, we'll have two scenes with Dany and her counsellors assessing the enemy forces (one in this episode and another in episode 3.8, which I'll discuss below), unlike the books (which only has one). Each is quite similar to one another, with the second more closely (though not entirely, since, again, the Astapori freedmen are nowhere to be seen) resembling the conflict in the books for actually introducing the sellswords.

Also, it's disappointing that we don't get to see onscreen quite a few moments from the books that showcase Dany's intelligence. The first is that she eagerly wants to apply her lessons with Barristan about how to assess her enemy forces, so she goes with Jorah to see them and then makes a reasonable guess about their strength:

Her Dothraki scouts had told her how it was, but Dany wanted to see for herself. Ser Jorah Mormont rode with her through a birchwood forest and up a slanting sandstone ridge. “Near enough,” he warned her at the crest.

Dany reined in her mare and looked across the fields, to where the Yunkish host lay athwart her path. Whitebeard had been teaching her how best to count the numbers of a foe. “Five thousand,” she said after a moment.

“I’d say so.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

What's also missing from the show is Dany applying the knowledge she acquired from the Dothraki to contextualize the danger that her Astapori freedmen are going to face against the sellswords:

Finally, unlike in the books, we don't have a scene on HBO displaying that show!Dany learned important lessons with both the Qartheen and the Astapori. Such lessons inform why she's certain that both Yunkai and the sellswords will at least come and listen to her offer:

“But if they do not come—”

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

That being said, there is good in this scene too:

JORAH: We don't need Yunkai, khaleesi. Taking this city will not bring you any closer to Westeros or the Iron Throne.

DAENERYS: How many slaves are there in Yunkai?

JORAH: 200,000, if not more.

DAENERYS: Then we have 200,000 reasons to take the city.

ASOS Daenerys IV doesn't have a scene where Dany explicitly states that she is in Yunkai because she wants to free the slaves (though her thoughts and actions speak for themselves, making it obvious that she is). The show, on the other hand, makes that fact loud and clear for anyone to grasp it. Dany's selflessness is probably the most important aspect of her characterization, so it's no wonder that this scene (which draws attention to it) was written by GRRM himself. (Benioff, in contrast, focuses on Dany's supposed "Littlefinger style ambition" or on her "divine mission", but never on her moral principles)

Before I talk about this show scene in relation to the books, I want to reiterate that yes, it is racist at its core; it employs North African extras as slaves who will be freed by a character played by a British actress, after all. There's no excuse for this and I don't blame any person of color who dislikes show!Dany for this.

That being said, as @yendany already laid out in this post, the slaves of the books are of multiple ethnicities; they range from "pale Qartheen" to "ebon-faced Summer Islanders". This stems from the fact that GRRM never meant for the slavery that Dany is battling against to be race-based; he was, instead, inspired by the slavery in the ancient world. Parallels between Dany's storyline and US slavery, on the other hand, are non-racial in nature. Furthermore, it's crucial to notice that Dany is the only major character of ASOIAF interacting with people of color and caring about their struggles in the first place.

All of this is to say that yes, there is racism in this scene (and the books aren't exempt from it), but this is the fault of the show's production. Neither show!Dany nor Dany are white saviors because of it and their storylines still have thematic significance despite GRRM's and D&D's shortcomings.

In the books, this is not the mode of transportation that the Yunkish envoy chooses to get to Dany:

The envoys from Yunkai arrived as the sun was going down; fifty men on magnificent black horses and one on a great white camel. Their helms were twice as tall as their heads, so as not to crush the bizarre twists and towers and shapes of their oiled hair beneath. They dyed their linen skirts and tunics a deep yellow, and sewed copper disks to their cloaks.

The man on the white camel named himself Grazdan mo Eraz. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

That being said, I would argue that this was a good change because it illustrates the oppression of the Yunkish slaves (who, let's remember, come from lots of different societies and cultures in the books) and reinforces the necessity of show!Dany's revolution.

Meereenese seldom rode within their city walls. They preferred palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs, borne upon the shoulders of their slaves. "Horses befoul the streets," one man of Zakh had told her, "slaves do not." Dany had freed the slaves, yet palanquins, litters, and sedan chairs still choked the streets as before, and none of them floated magically through the air. (ADWD Daenerys VII)

The Brazen Beasts did as they were bid. Dany watched them at their work. “Those bearers were slaves before I came. I made them free. Yet that palanquin is no lighter.”

“True,” said Hizdahr, “but those men are paid to bear its weight now. Before you came, that man who fell would have an overseer standing over him, stripping the skin off his back with a whip. Instead he is being given aid.” (ADWD Daenerys IX)

Considering that the palanquins (along with the whip and the tokar) were used to call attention to the mistreatment and the oppression of the unprivileged in the books, it's not surprising that they were also added in the show in an episode written by GRRM to convey the same point.

MISSANDEI: Now comes the noble Razdal mo Eraz of that ancient and honorable house, master of men and speaker to savages, to offer terms of peace. Noble lord, you are in the presence of Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, Queen of the Andals and the First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.

Again, thanks to GRRM's influence, Dany's and the envoy's titles are both announced as a formality, not as comic relief (at best) or as a sign of Dany's arrogance (at worst) like, for example, in her first scene with Jon Snow in season seven.

Also, this is not a key detail, but the Yunkish envoy's name was changed from Grazdan mo Eraz in the books to Razdal mo Eraz in the show. I don't see any reason why GRRM would change his name, which makes me question to which extent the show writers altered certain parts of GRRM's script to their convenience (and they certainly did, as I will show below).

RAZDAL: Ancient and glorious is Yunkai. Our empire was old before dragons stirred in old Valyria. Many an army has broken against our walls. You shall find no easy conquest here, khaleesi.

In the books, the Yunkish envoy speaks Valyrian like the Astapori did:

“Missandei, what language will these Yunkai’i speak, Valyrian?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the child said. “A different dialect than Astapor’s, yet close enough to understand. The slavers name themselves the Wise Masters.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

And yet, we are seeing the actors talk to each other in English, which is used in the show to indicate that the characters are speaking the Common Tongue. On its own, this is a superfluous change. Still, it's irritating that the show writers allow show!Dany and the Yunkish envoy talk to each other in English here and then will later prevent her from speaking to the freedmen in the same language (which she does in the books, because they also speak Valyrian) at court in episode 4.6. The implications that she's too removed from reality (and her subjects, as seasons five and six will imply), that she is actually quite similar to a master and that she should abide to the Meereenese traditions are all distasteful and completely out of line with what happens in the books. Unfortunately, it could be argued that the seeds of these negative implications are in this episode (though they only become negative in retrospect because of later events and not because of GRRM's writing).

Unsurprisingly, the Yunkish envoy's words are almost copied word by word from the books:

RAZDAL: Ancient and glorious is Yunkai. Our empire was old before dragons stirred in old Valyria. Many an army has broken against our walls. You shall find no easy conquest here, khaleesi.

“Ancient and glorious is Yunkai, the queen of cities,” he said when Dany welcomed him to her tent. “Our walls are strong, our nobles proud and fierce, our common folk without fear. Ours is the blood of ancient Ghis, whose empire was old when Valyria was yet a squalling child. You were wise to sit and speak, Khaleesi. You shall find no easy conquest here.”

Small changes are made in show!Dany's response to his statement, however:

DAENERYS: Good. My Unsullied need practice. I was told to blood them early.

“Good. My Unsullied will relish a bit of a fight.” She looked to Grey Worm, who nodded. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the books, this is a subtle but affectionate moment between Dany and Grey Worm. Dany is alluding to Grey Worm having previously told her that the Unsullied "thirst[ed] for blood" and that he hoped to show her that "the Unsullied learn the way of the three spears" (in stark contrast to the Yunkish bed slaves).

In the show, while the context surrounding show!Dany's mention of the Unsullied was changed from the books, I would argue that the scene is no less effective for it. It displays show!Dany's intelligence by having her recall Kraznys's advice and be intent on following it.

In both versions, the Yunkish envoy attempts to bribe Dany into leaving the city:

“And yet, why should we speak thus harshly to one another? It is true that you committed savageries in Astapor, but we Yunkai’i are a most forgiving people. Your quarrel is not with us, Your Grace. Why squander your strength against our mighty walls when you will need every man to regain your father’s throne in far Westeros? Yunkai wishes you only well in that endeavor. And to prove the truth of that, I have brought you a gift.” He clapped his hands, and two of his escort came forward bearing a heavy cedar chest bound in bronze and gold. They set it at her feet. “Fifty thousand golden marks,” Grazdan said smoothly. “Yours, as a gesture of friendship from the Wise Masters of Yunkai. Gold given freely is better than plunder bought with blood, surely? So I say to you, Daenerys Targaryen, take this chest, and go.”

Dany pushed open the lid of the chest with a small slippered foot. It was full of gold coins, just as the envoy said. She grabbed a handful and let them run through her fingers. They shone brightly as they tumbled and fell; new minted, most of them, stamped with a stepped pyramid on one face and the harpy of Ghis on the other. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

RAZDAL: If blood is your desire, blood shall flow. But why? 'Tis true you have committed savageries in Astapor. But the Yunkai are a forgiving and generous people. The wise masters of Yunkai have sent a gift for the silver queen. There is far more than this awaiting you on the deck of your ship.

DAENERYS: My ship?

RAZDAL: Yes, khaleesi. As I said, we are a generous people. You shall have as many ships as you require.

DAENERYS: And what do you ask in return?

RAZDAL: All we ask is that you make use of these ships. Sail them back to Westeros where you belong and leave us to conduct our affairs in peace.

In the show, the envoy offers her even more rewards than he had in the books; while the Dany of the books was offered "fifty thousand golden marks", show!Dany was offered an unspecified amount of gold that fills the deck of a ship and "as many ships as [she] require[s]".

In both versions, Dany declines the offer. Show!Dany is explicitly shown refusing it because of her moral duty towards the slaves (who, let's remember, come from lots of different societies and cultures in the books), which is a callback to episode 3.3:

Even if we don't have show!Dany attempting to spare the Astapori freedmen's lives like she does in the books, GRRM still hammers home that her ultimate goal is selfless - to free the Yunkish slaves and end slavery in the region.

Dany's "gift" to the Yunkish envoy was altered from book to show, but her sole request was largely kept the same:

DAENERYS: I have a gift for you as well. Your life.

RAZDAL: My life?

DAENERYS: And the lives of your wise masters. But I also want something in return. You will release every slave in Yunkai. Every man, woman, and child shall be given as much food, clothing, and property as they can carry as payment for their years of servitude. Reject this gift, and I shall show you no mercy.

“I have a gift for you as well.” She slammed the chest shut. “Three days. On the morning of the third day, send out your slaves. All of them. Every man, woman, and child shall be given a weapon, and as much food, clothing, coin, and goods as he or she can carry. These they shall be allowed to choose freely from among their masters’ possessions, as payment for their years of servitude. When all the slaves have departed, you will open your gates and allow my Unsullied to enter and search your city, to make certain none remain in bondage. If you do this, Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested. The Wise Masters will have the peace they desire, and will have proved themselves wise indeed. What say you?” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

I would say that these scenes have the same spirit, though there are some differences between them as well.

In the books, Dany tells the envoy that she'll give him three days to free the slaves only to deceive the Yunkish and attack them when they least expect it. This, as I've argued before, is no proof of Dany's "tyranny", but rather her prioritization of the freedmen's lives (who would have been slaughtered against mounted warriors if not in a surprise attack) over the nobility's, which is an attitude that she should have maintained throughout the rest of ASOS and the entirety of ADWD.

On HBO, show!Dany will not attack Yunkai in the same night, so having her give the master three days to decide what to do wouldn't have the same significance. One could argue that show!Dany is being more explicitly threatening than Dany ("Reject this gift, and I shall show you no mercy") during her interaction with the envoy, but this line is certainly not out of character for Dany, who tells Barristan that "Yunkai will have war" in the same chapter where her talk with Grazdan takes place.

There are key things in common between the books' depiction of the scene versus the show's as well: Dany promises that "Yunkai will not be burned or plundered, and none of your people shall be molested"; show!Dany's gift is the envoy's life "and the lives of [his] wise masters". Dany asks for as much "food, clothing, coin and goods" as the former slaves can carry "for their years of servitude" after three days; show!Dany asks for "every man, woman and child" to "be given as much food, clothing and property as they can carry for their years of servitude". These show lines exhibit that, ultimately, show!Dany is also primarily focused on freeing the slaves and on attempting to be as conciliatory as possible.

One small detail is altered from books to show regarding the envoy's answer to Dany's offer:

RAZDAL: You are mad. We are not Astapor or Qarth.

“I say, you are mad.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In both versions, the envoy calls Dany mad, but Qarth is never brought up as an example of Dany's "treacherous" nature, only Astapor:

“You took Astapor by treachery, but Yunkai shall not fall so easily.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

“And yet, why should we speak thus harshly to one another? It is true that you committed savageries in Astapor, but we Yunkai’i are a most forgiving people.[”] (ASOS Daenerys IV)

This addition was most likely made because, on HBO, show!Dany locked show!Xaro and show!Doreah inside the former's vault to die. I suppose that it makes sense for the show writers to pay attention to their own continuity, though that makes me question why Kraznys and the other Astapori slavers weren't also aware that show!Dany was not (in their perspective) trustworthy by the time she arrived to negotiate with them. It wasn't convenient to pay attention to the continuity in the beginning of season three, I guess. I also doubt that GRRM wrote this bit of his own volition (unless he was told to do so).

Now we get to what some people tend to see as the most controversial parts of Dany's exchange with the envoy. On HBO, it's show!Dany's decision to take the envoy's gold; in the books, it's Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar:

RAZDAL: You are mad. We are not Astapor or Qarth. We are Yunkai and we have powerful friends. Friends who would take great pleasure in destroying you. Those who survive, we shall enslave once more. Perhaps we'll make a slave of you as well.

REZNAK: You swore me safe conduct.

DAENERYS: I did, but my dragons made no promises. And you threatened their mother.

“I say, you are mad.”

“Am I?” Dany shrugged, and said, “Dracarys.”

The dragons answered. Rhaegal hissed and smoked, Viserion snapped, and Drogon spat swirling red-black flame. It touched the drape of Grazdan’s tokar, and the silk caught in half a heartbeat. Golden marks spilled across the carpets as the envoy stumbled over the chest, shouting curses and beating at his arm until Whitebeard flung a flagon of water over him to douse the flames. “You swore I should have safe conduct!” the Yunkish envoy wailed.

“Do all the Yunkai’i whine so over a singed tokar? I shall buy you a new one ... if you deliver up your slaves within three days. Elsewise, Drogon shall give you a warmer kiss.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

People who think that the Dany of the books is more morally grey than show!Dany tend to use the event above as an example that supposedly "proves" their point, since Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar in the books doesn't happen in the show. Not only this conveniently ignores that the show cut so many of Dany's moments of compassion and self-deprecation and that it gave show!Dany many scenes that complicate her character's morality more than any from the books (e.g. her decision to feed one master to her two dragons arbitrarily), it also overlooks the fact that Dany uses her dragons to intimidate the envoy (rather than to punish him in any way). By making sure that he takes her seriously, Dany's threat of a "warmer kiss" becomes much more alarming, which is only necessary in a world where men think that it's normal to underestimate her and dismiss her as a "whore". More importantly, it must be remembered that Dany's threat to the envoy (who was never actually hurt) was made because she wants to free the slaves of Yunkai. All in all, considering a) the level of damage she caused (none), b) her selfless intentions and c) that we're talking about a book series/TV show full of rapists and murderers from a pseudomedieval world, this is not a morally grey action.

It must be noted, however, that GRRM himself observed that show!Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar was a moment cut from his original script and that he wishes that it had been included. I suppose I can understand why the author is frustrated by this particular change, since this has ramifications later when Yunkai remembers what happened to Grazdan and then refuses to accept any peace agreement until Dany marries another slaver.

Still, I think that the exclusion of this moment is compensated by this show change:

RAZDAL: Take the gold.

DAENERYS: My gold. You gave it to me, remember? And I shall put it to good use. You'd be wise to do the same with my gift to you. Now get out.

“You’ve soiled yourself. Take your gold and go, and see that the Wise Masters hear my message.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the books, Dany doesn't take the envoy's gold. In the show, however, she does.

Like with Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar, show!Dany's decision to take his gold is not really a morally grey action because it's motivated by (and will finance) her anti-slavery campaign.

Like with Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar, this decision leads many fans to judge show!Dany much more harshly than they should, as this stupid gifset shows. @yendany has already exhaustively laid out why neither Dany nor show!Dany (whose actions, albeit often undermined in comparison to her book counterpart, are still in keeping with Dany's motivations) are imperialists, so check out her metas about this issue.

By comparing these two scenes, my intent is to argue that the omission of Dany's burning of the envoy's tokar isn't that detrimental in the grand scheme of things. Its purpose was not to make Dany more morally grey as some people think, it was meant to complicate the negotiations of a peace agreement between Dany and Yunkai (which never occurs in the show). If they wanted something to complicate the peace agreement (which, again, was never added into season five), they could have brought up show!Dany taking Razdal's gold (which, while also not a morally grey action, would certainly piss the Yunkish slavers off), but they would have to have cared about adapting Dany's ADWD storyline well to think about that.

BARRISTAN: The Yunkish are a proud people. They will not bend.

DAENERYS: And what happens to things that don't bend?

This response from show!Dany portrays her as more unyielding than the books do. This is not necessarily a bad thing (and it's not as if Dany didn't struggle with accepting the slavers' actions, opinions and customs in the books as well), but it goes against how the books have Dany still developing her political values along the way based on her experiences. Also, while this original line is fine on its own, in light of the show's ending, it may have helped to portray show!Dany as inflexible enough to become a Well-Intentioned Extremist in the eyes of the show writers and some fans (we know, however, that this ending is OOC for show!Dany as well and that it carries many, many horrible implications).

DAENERYS: He said he had powerful friends. Who was he talking about?

JORAH: I don't know.

DAENERYS: Find out.

Again, is this from GRRM or the show writers? In the books, as I already said, Dany knows who the Yunkish's "powerful friends" are right away:

This was changed because, again, they want to make the events of ASOS Daenerys IV last for multiple episodes. Still, I wonder if GRRM cared enough to respect the show's continuity or if the show writers made changes to what he wrote.

Episode 3.8: Second Sons

We get back to D&D's writing of show!Dany with "Second Sons".

Scene 7

Remember when I said that we would get two scenes of Dany and her advisors assessing the enemy forces in the show (this only happens once in the books)? Well, we have reached the second one.

BARRISTAN: Men who fight for gold have neither honour nor loyalty. They cannot be trusted.

JORAH: They can be trusted to kill you if they’re well paid. The Yunkish are paying them well.

Show!Barristan's and show!Jorah's counsels above are show only.

It's not out of character for Barristan to distrust sellswords and men who don't behave in a way that is socially perceived as honorable in general. The problem is that the show writers have him express his feelings only for show!Jorah to question and refute them without show!Barristan being allowed to give any response, which undermines the latter (like they did in episodes 3.3 and 3.5 as well) in the eyes of the audience in favor of show!Jorah's perspective.

In the books, both Jorah and Barristan are shown distrusting sellswords, especially Mero:

But when Mero was gone, Arstan Whitebeard said, “That one has an evil reputation, even in Westeros. Do not be misled by his manner, Your Grace. He will drink three toasts to your health tonight, and rape you on the morrow.”

“The old man’s right for once,” Ser Jorah said. “The Second Sons are an old company, and not without valor, but under Mero they’ve turned near as bad as the Brave Companions. The man is as dangerous to his employers as to his foes. That’s why you find him out here. None of the Free Cities will hire him any longer.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

What's irritating about this change in show!Jorah's character is that Jorah's attempts to isolate Dany from other men are a key aspect of their relationship in the books. Having show!Jorah trust the sellswords if they're well-paid overlooks this side of their dynamic and portrays him as reasonable rather than often motivated by jealousy like he is in the books. It also helps to popularize stupid takes like this one.

I would also like to call attention to Dany's response to their advice in the books:

“It is not his reputation that I want, it’s his five hundred horse.[”] (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As I said before, I find it interesting that Dany isn't really concerned about the sellswords' lack of morals. Moments like this and the one later in ADWD Daenerys VIII when she finds that being “dishonorable and greedy” can be advantageous if she wants the sellswords to turn to her side show that Dany is actually quite down-to-earth and flexible and doesn’t suffer from moral righteousness like the show writers seem to think.

Show!Dany expresses a similar view by thinking that the Second Sons might turn to her side because she has a larger strength (more on that below). That being said, she is mostly shown listening and making questions:

DAENERYS: You know these men?

DAENERYS: Is he more titan or bastard?

DAENERYS: How many?

DAENERYS: Enough to make a difference?

The books don't show Dany being as dependent on her advisors' feedback as show!Dany is. I don't want to be overly judgmental of show!Dany, but this is something that irks me because Bryan Cogman has said in an interview that he thinks that Dany relies too much on Jorah to obtain information about Essosi culture. It's not untrue that he gives her knowledge that she doesn't have, but this statement ignores the fact that Dany applies that knowledge and has her own (because she's lived in Essos for longer than Jorah) and that she has her own opinions and makes many decisions on her own as well. The show often overlooks these nuances because the writers are intent on making her more ignorant and ineffective than in the books to "compensate" for her strengths and achievements (more on this later).

JORAH: Only by the broken swords on their banners. They’re called the Second Sons. A company led by a Braavosi named Mero, the Titan’s Bastard.

DAENERYS: Is he more titan or bastard?

JORAH: He’s a dangerous man, Khaleesi. They all are.

A rare occasion where show!Dany is allowed to have a sense of humor (which her book counterpart displays much more often). What's a shame is that the show writers only know how to write offensive jokes for her (see also this one) and for most of the other characters in general.

I also dislike the implication that show!Dany's joke indicates that she is underestimating the threat that the Second Sons pose. It's certainly not out of character for Jorah to be condescending towards Dany, but I don't think that's how the show writers intended his response to come across; as I've talked about exhaustively by now, the show writers have a much more positive view of Jorah than GRRM does.

Another change is that the show writers increased the size of the Second Sons. In the books, the Stormcrows (which was condensed into the Second Sons in the show) have five hundred men and the Second Sons five hundred as well, making them one thousand rather than two thousand men:

DAENERYS: How many?

BARRISTAN: Two thousand, Your Grace. Armoured and mounted.

As I will show later, this goes in line with the show writers' tendency to undermine Dany against the sellswords in comparison to the books. It also goes in line with how they previously undermined the value of show!Dany's possessions compared to what she has in the books to undermine to extent of her sacrifice.

DAENERYS: How many?

BARRISTAN: Two thousand, Your Grace. Armoured and mounted.

DAENERYS: Enough to make a difference? (after Barristan nods "yes") It’s hard to collect wages from a corpse. I’m sure the sellswords prefer to fight for the winning side.

JORAH: I imagine you’re right.

DAENERYS: I’d like to talk to the Titan’s Bastard about winning.

Like in the books, show!Dany is also aware that her military strength vastly surpasses that of the Yunkish's and that this might persuade the sellswords to turn to her side.

My gripe with the show (which I'll talk about below) is that it'll challenge the fact that show!Dany would indeed triumph in a battle against Yunkai more than the books ever did. There, the conflict for Dany was not about whether she would win or not (she certainly would), but rather that winning would have meant allowing more freedmen to die as collateral damage than she's willing to do. Once again, the show writers are going to miss the point, which makes show!Dany seem less effective than her book counterpart.

DAENERYS: I’d like to talk to the Titan’s Bastard about winning.

BARRISTAN: He may not agree to meet.

DAENERYS: He will. A man who fights for gold can’t afford to lose to a girl.

In the books, Jorah is the one who questions if the sellswords will meet with Dany:

“The slavers like to talk,” she said. “Send word that I will hear them this evening in my tent. And invite the captains of the sellsword companies to call on me as well. But not together. The Stormcrows at midday, the Second Sons two hours later.”

“As you wish,” Ser Jorah said. “But if they do not come—” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

Which is in line with his tendency to question her authority (though, to be fair, this is one of the least offensive examples). Meanwhile, Barristan is the one who respects Dany as his liege.

Dany's answer to her advisor is also different:

“They’ll come. They will be curious to see the dragons and hear what I might have to say, and the clever ones will see it for a chance to gauge my strength.” She wheeled her silver mare about. “I’ll await them in my pavilion.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As I had already mentioned in my review of episode 3.7, this moment indicates that Dany learned important lessons with both the Qartheen and the Astapori, which is why she is sure that they will agree to meet with her.

On HBO, show!Dany brings up the fact that sellswords "can't afford to lose to a girl", which is true, but why would that be a reason for them to agree to meet with her? Isn't it more likely that, because she is a girl and, therefore, not perceived as a threat, they don't even bother going to meet with her because they (think they) know that she will lose? I don't really understand her point, which seems more like a typical moment of faux empowerment from this show.

BARRISTAN: Your Grace, allow me to present the captains of the Second Sons, Mero of Braavos, Prendahl na Ghezn, and, um…

DAARIO: Daario Naharis.

Much has been said about how none of the two show versions of Daario resemble his book counterpart in physical appearance (check out his description in the books here), so I'm only making a brief acknowledgement of that (admittedly radical) change in this review and leaving it at that. It's not really relevant to what I want to focus on (i.e., the changes in Dany's characterization and storyline from book to show) and I dislike how some people keep overfocusing on his looks to point out that Dany supposedly has a ~bad taste~ in men. It's much more important to acknowledge that Daario (both versions) gives Dany the chance to have sexual autonomy for the first time in her life.

MERO: You are the Mother of Dragons? I swear I fucked you once in a pleasure house in Lys. JORAH: Mind your tongue.

In the books, it's not Jorah who answers this asshole, it's Dany herself:

“I believe I fucked your twin sister in a pleasure house back home. Or was it you?”

“I think not. I would remember a man of such magnificence, I have no doubt.”  (ASOS Daenerys IV)

His next insult is also adapted word by word from the books, which hints at the show writers' priorities:

MERO: You’ll all be slaves after the battle, unless I save you. Take your clothes off and come and sit on Mero’s lap, and I may give you my Second Sons.

DAENERYS: Give me your Second Sons and I may not have you gelded.

“What say you take those clothes off and come sit on my lap? If you please me, I might bring the Second Sons over to your side.”

“If you bring the Second Sons over to my side, I might not have you gelded.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

Heck, the amount of profanity in the books is already problematic and the show makes it worse by adding even more:

MERO: Why? I didn’t mind hers. She licked my ass like she was born to do it.

MERO: Show me your cunt. I want to see if it’s worth fighting for.

MERO: After the battle, maybe we’ll all share you. I’ll come looking for you when this is over.

And that's not even considering that the sellswords get one scene for themselves in this episode (more on that later), ugh.

To top this all off, many of Dany's excellent comebacks to the sellswords' remarks in the books are erased in the show:

“Woman?” She chuckled. “Is that meant to insult me? I would return the slap, if I took you for a man.” Dany met his stare. “I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, the Unburnt, Mother of Dragons, khaleesi to Drogo’s riders, and queen of the Seven Kingdoms of Westeros.”

“No need. After my eunuchs cut it off, I can examine it at my leisure.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

The last remark is included, but is also decontextualized in a way that prevents it from displaying Dany's competence like it does in the books. I'll get to it later.

DAENERYS: Give me your Second Sons and I may not have you gelded. Ser Barristan, how many men fight for the Second Sons?

BARRISTAN: Under two thousand, Your Grace.

DAENERYS: We have more, don’t we?

BARRISTAN: Ten thousand, Unsullied.

DAENERYS: I’m only a young girl, new to the ways of war, but perhaps a seasoned captain like yourself can explain to me how you propose to defeat us.

DAARIO: I hope the old man is better with a sword than he is with a lie. You have eight thousand Unsullied.

Like in the books, Dany inflates her number of Unsullied:

“Five hundred of your Stormcrows against ten thousand of my Unsullied,” said Dany. “I am only a young girl and do not understand the ways of war, yet these odds seem poor to me.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

“It is true that I am only a young girl, and do not know the ways of war. Explain to me how you propose to defeat ten thousand Unsullied with your five hundred. Innocent as I am, these odds seem poor to me.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

However, the show writers have show!Daario find out that show!Dany was lying about her military strength when this never happens in the books. Indeed, they seem hellbent on undermining show!Dany, since they even decreased her actual number of soldiers from eight thousand and six hundred in the books to eight thousand in the show.

This change heavily implies to me that the show writers believe that show!Dany is indeed "only a young girl, new to the ways of war" and that they want the audience to perceive her as one. (see also David Benioff saying that show!Dany goes "back to being a really frightened little girl" when her dragons are stolen in season two or Bryan Cogman's comment on her supposed ignorance of Essosi culture)

And this is just so wrong because this is the opposite of what GRRM is doing in the books.

As I already analyzed in this meta, in the books, Dany is the one who correctly guesses the enemy's military strength (yes, she is the one who gets to do that in the books, not Daario). Dany is the one who is shown applying her knowledge of the Dothraki forces to understand (on her own) that her freedmen are vulnerable against the sellswords. Dany is the one who applies her historical knowledge of the Second Sons to intimidate Mero. Dany is the one who gets to outline the tactical plan to take Yunkai (which the show writers will frustratingly have show!Daario concoct in the next episode). Dany is the one who stayed in the room and listened as her military commanders worked out the details to implement her plan. The latter case is particularly noticeable because GRRM cared to show Dany exposing her plan onpage, but he didn't care to write about how her advisors fleshed it out: that's because he prioritizes the development of his female lead character over his supporting male characters'. Despite certain flaws in his writing, GRRM goes out of his way to portray Dany as more than just a "young girl, new to the ways of war". It's a shame that the show writers can't do the same with her show counterpart.

The thing with Dany (both versions) is that she is a power fantasy in so many ways; she is the female protagonist of ASOIAF, she is genuinely kind and selfless, she is mother to three dragons and to thousands of people, she is a dragonrider and will become an action heroine, she is the only monarch with a claim to the Iron Throne who gets her own POV chapters, she is from a family renowned for their godlike beauty, she is a messianic hero, she fulfills so many prophecies, she has so many titles (and all of them were hard-won), she is the Fire of the song of ice and fire...

To many fans (including the show writers), she just can't be that big of a deal! There must be something wrong with her! If she is holding so much power, there must also be the risk of her becoming a tyrant. If she is a successful conqueror, she must also be ignorant (sometimes she is, sometimes she isn't, like a normal person) and arrogant (she isn't) and not think far enough ahead (she does). If she is a revolutionary who gets to enact her idealism (and deal with the negative results of her mistakes) onpage, she can't be the embodiment of hope for the future at the same time.

What I'm saying is that the show writers' tendency to undermine Dany's positive qualities and overstate her flaws (or create new ones or judge her by unfair double standards) mirror the ASOIAF fandom's and that the underlying assumption behind these attempts (i.e. that Dany can't be as great as she seems to be) is misogynistic at its core.

PRENDAHL: Our contract is our bond. If we break our bond, no one will hire the Second Sons again.

This is not a very important change in the grand scheme of things, but, in the books, Mero is the one who says something along those lines:

“You are worth fighting for, it is true,” the Braavosi said, “and I would gladly let you kiss my sword, if I were free. But I have taken Yunkai’s coin and pledged my holy word.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

Prendahl, on the other hand, brings up that the Stormcrows (which is his company in the books) has the support of Yunkish forces and predictably dismisses Dany as a "whore" in order to explain why he won't join her side:

“The Stormcrows do not stand alone [...] We fight beside the stalwart men of Yunkai.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

“What you are,” said Prendahl na Ghezn, “is a horselord’s whore. When we break you, I will breed you to my stallion.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

His anger at Dany stems from both his misogyny and the fact that Dany's sack of Astapor led to the deaths of some of his relatives:

“That Prendahl is Ghiscari by blood. Likely he had kin in Astapor.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

While these changes are not the most significant ones, it's noteworthy that Prendahl only appears in one scene seen through Dany's perspective in the books and receives more detailed motivations than in the show, where he gets a scene of his own (more on that later).

DAARIO: You have no ships. You have no siege weapons. You have no cavalry.

DAENERYS: A fortnight ago, I had no army. A year ago, I had no dragons.

While I like that show!Dany is at least allowed to offer a response to show!Daario's remark, this wasn't supposed to have happened in the first place. Neither Daario nor any of the men that Dany interacts with are shown questioning her in this way in the books. It's another infuriating attempt to undermine show!Dany. Moreover, she is the one who is shown to be conscious of her own limitations in the books, not Daario:

Why was this changed? I'm not sure. Because the show writers are deliberately trying to make show!Dany look worse than her book counterpart? Because they are unaware of the sexism underlying their writing choices? Because this makes show!Daario seem "more interesting" in his introduction (to the detriment of show!Dany's characterization)? All of these reasons or something else entirely?

Also, while I enjoy show!Dany's assertion on its own, I also know that it's probably informed by Benioff's false belief that Dany "feels like she has this almost divine mission and nothing is gonna prevent her from achieving it". The Dany of the books is neither prophecy-driven nor aware of her heroic destiny and, while it wouldn't be a problem if she were, it is a problem in the show because its writers constantly undermine, look down upon and villainize her character for her ambition, her drive and her self-awareness.

MERO: Show me your cunt. I want to see if it’s worth fighting for.

GREY WORM: My Queen, shall I slice out his tongue for you?

DAENERYS: These men are our guests.

In the books, as I've already mentioned in my review of episode 3.7 above, Grey Worm and Dany's brief interaction is different. I like how their show interaction displays his protectiveness of her, though it was unnecessary to add more sexual harassment to do so. Also, in the books, Jorah is the one outraged at Mero's treatment of Dany, though not primarily because she doesn't deserve to be treated like this, but rather because he wants to keep her to himself:

“I will like the taste of your tongue, I think.”

She could sense Ser Jorah’s anger. My black bear does not like this talk of kissing. (ASOS Daenerys IV)

DAENERYS: You seem to be enjoying my wine. Perhaps you’d like a flagon to help you ponder.

MERO: Only a flagon? And what are my brothers in arms to drink?

DAENERYS: A barrel, then.

MERO: Good. The Titan’s Bastard does not drink alone. In the Second Sons, we share everything.

In the books, Dany gives Mero a wagon of wine too, but there is a strategic reason behind why she does so - it makes them easier targets to attack at night:

“An hour past midnight should be time enough.”

“Yes, Khaleesi,” said Rakharo. “Time for what?” 

“To mount our attack.” 

Ser Jorah Mormont scowled. “You told the sellswords—”

“—that I wanted their answers on the morrow. I made no promises about tonight. The Stormcrows will be arguing about my offer. The Second Sons will be drunk on the wine I gave Mero. And the Yunkai’i believe they have three days. We will take them under cover of this darkness.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

In the show, there's no purpose behind her favor, which is ultimately just what it seems to be. Unfortunately, this goes in line with the show writers' tendency to diminish Dany's skills and agency, which I've already criticized above.

MERO: In the Second Sons, we share everything. After the battle, maybe we’ll all share you. I’ll come looking for you when this is over. DAENERYS: Ser Barristan, if it comes to battle, kill that one first. BARRISTAN: Gladly, Your Grace.

I've said above that Dany's order to kill Mero first in battle was decontextualized from the books to the show in a way that prevents it from showcasing her competence. Here's why:

“The Second Sons have faced worse odds and run. At Qohor, when the Three Thousand made their stand. Or do you deny it?”

“That was many and more years ago, before the Second Sons were led by the Titan’s Bastard.”

“So it is from you they get their courage?” Dany turned to Ser Jorah. “When the battle is joined, kill this one first.”

The exile knight smiled. “Gladly, Your Grace.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

As we can see from the quote, in the books, Dany orders Jorah to kill Mero first in battle to Mero's face in response to his poor attempt of self-aggrandizement. By doing so, she aptly manages to undermine him, which makes this a noteworthy display of her rhetoric skills and her self-composure.

On HBO, show!Dany tells show!Barristan (instead of Jorah) to kill Mero first as an emotional response to him slapping show!Missandei's butt. This change is both gratuitous (since it's more harassment that was never in the books to begin with) and superfluous (since we already knew that show!Dany has admirable moral principles, but we didn't get to know more about her capabilities like we do in the books).

Scene 8

This scene is pointless (for being about minor characters who were never meant to have scenes of their own and taking up time that could have been invested on show!Dany's development and storyline), redundant (for not telling us anything about them that we didn't already know) and offensive (for giving us more unnecessary profanity and female sexualization).

First, the scene doesn't even spend that much time on these commanders' decision-making, it's mostly about being gratuitous for its own sake:

MERO: She won’t talk so much when she’s choking on my cock. DAARIO: Eight thousand Unsullied stand between her and your cock. MERO: My cock will find a way. Tell him. Is there any place that my cock can’t reach? DAARIO: She’ll tell me whatever you pay her to tell me.

What does this say about Mero other than the fact that he's a misogynistic prick (which was already abundantly clear)? Why are we getting a scene featuring him that isn't seen through show!Dany's eyes?

PRENDAHL: That dragon bitch. She talks too much. DAARIO: You talk too much.

Like I said above, the show gives us more time with Prendahl and still manages to give him less detailed motivations than in the books (where he's not just driven by misogyny, but also by resentment for the deaths of his relatives during Dany's sack of Astapor).

MERO: Daario Naharis, the whore who doesn’t like whores.

DAARIO: I like them very much. I just refuse to pay them. And I’m no whore, my friend.

MERO: She sells her sheath, and you sell your blade. What’s the difference?

DAARIO: I fight for beauty.

PRENDAHL: For beauty?

MERO: We fight for gold.

DAARIO: The Gods gave men two gifts to entertain ourselves before we die, the thrill of fucking a woman who wants to be fucked and the thrill of killing a man who wants to kill you.

MERO: You’ll die young.

I'm gonna talk more about this when show!Daario meets with show!Dany in the next scene, but I really dislike the implication that he is only motivated to fight for show!Dany because of her beauty rather than because she has more chances to come off as the upcoming battle's winner. In the books, Dany's victory against Yunkai was certain (her main struggle, as I already said, was that she didn't want so many of her freedmen to die in battle).

Show!Daario's hedonistic nature is arguably in character with his book counterpart:

“...I count no day as lived unless I have loved a woman, slain a foeman, and eaten a fine meal ... and the days that I have lived are as numberless as the stars in the sky. I make of slaughter a thing of beauty, and many a tumbler and fire dancer has wept to the gods that they might be half so quick, a quarter so graceful. I would tell you the names of all the men I have slain, but before I could finish your dragons would grow large as castles, the walls of Yunkai would crumble into yellow dust, and winter would come and go and come again.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

But this is beside the point. Again, why are we spending time with him and these men when they were only meant to service Dany's development and storyline in the books?

Their strategic concerns are only briefly addressed and their plan to solve them is ridiculous and nonsensical:

PRENDAHL: What do we do about the dragon girl? We can’t beat eight thousand Unsullied on the battlefield.

MERO: There won’t be a battle, and we don’t have to deal with her eunuchs. We only have to deal with her.

PRENDAHL: She’s wellguarded.

MERO: Tonight’s a new moon. One of us slips into her camp past her Unsullied and her knights.

What's even stupider than the plan itself is the fact that it works in the show. Yes, the show validated Mero's plan, because it would rather show off his abilities rather than those of its female protagonist. To validate anything that Mero says or does reinforces how tone-deaf the show writers are to the unfortunate implications in their writing.

In the books, Dany's guards are actually competent and catch Daario when he attempts to meet with her, so this plan obviously wouldn't have worked there:

“The Unsullied caught one of the sellswords trying to sneak into the camp.”

“A spy?” That frightened her. If they’d caught one, how many others might have gotten away?

“He claims to come bearing gifts. It’s the yellow fool with the blue hair.”

Daario Naharis. “That one. I’ll hear him, then.” (ASOS Daenerys IV)

To top it all off, their moronic plan is worked out while another woman is being sexualized just for the sake of it:

DAARIO: Which one of us?

MERO: Close your eyes, love. Three coins. A coin from Meereen, a coin from Volantis, and a coin from Braavos. The Braavosi does the deed. One for each of us, darling. No peeking.

DAARIO: Do you hear me? Follow my voice. I’m right here. You have something for me? Valar Morghulis.

I'm not trying to say that the books are free from gratuitous sexualization and misogyny; they are definitely not. That being said, the military commanders' and the envoy's slut-shaming of Dany stands in contrast with how Dany becomes a mother and a cult figure to the Yunkish freedmen by the end of the same chapter. This contrast could be interpreted as social commentary about how Dany falls prey to a Madonna-whore dichotomy based on whether she's loved or hated by the people of this patriarchal world. The moments where Dany interacts with these men in the books (and the show) add to such social commentary; this show only scene where these men interact with each other without show!Dany's presence don't have anything meaningful to say. It manages to be both pointless and offensive at the same time.

Scene 9

DAENERYS: Nineteen?

MISSANDEI: Yes, Your Grace.

DAENERYS: How can anyone speak languages?

MISSANDEI: It only took Your Grace a year to learn Dothraki reasonably well.

DAENERYS: Yes, well, it was either learn Dothraki or grunt at my husband and hope… What do you mean, “reasonably well”?

MISSANDEI: Dothraki is difficult for the mouth to master. So guttural and harsh.

DAENERYS: Drogo said I spoke Dothraki like one born to it. It gave him great pride.

MISSANDEI: Athjahakar.

DAENERYS: Athjahaka.

MISSANDEI: Athjahakar.

DAENERYS: Athjahakar. Well, I suppose I’m a bit out of practice.

MISSANDEI: Your High Valyrian is very good, Your Grace. The Gods could not devise a more perfect tongue. It is the only proper language for poetry.

I love show!Dany and show!Missandei's relationship and am up for any scene where the two get to interact with each other just for the sake of it. That being said, why does their first bonding moment have to be about how show!Dany's Dothraki language skills aren't as developed as she thought they were? Ugh, she is so lacking in self-awareness because she's too arrogant, amirite? Only a man who's sexually interested in her would praise her skills, amirite (more on this later)? The underlying implications in these show only additions are annoying and unintended at best and offensive and malicious at worst.

Besides, why couldn't they have had show!Dany and show!Missandei talk to each other about their difficult past experiences and how they empathize with one another? Why couldn't the scene have focused on showing that they are growing fond of each other or explored the interesting aspects of their book dynamic (With the necessary adjustments to fit show!Missandei's age, of course)? So much wasted potential.

Also, I hate that they have show!Dany say that her Dothraki is rusty, since it implies that she hasn't been interacting with her khalasar at all (unlike in the books, where she constantly talks to them and/or thinks of them and/or is shown to be in the same room with them).

I've already talked about how Daario never successfully invades Dany's camp in the books because her guards are actually qualified there and how this is another way to undermine her character's competence. I'm going to address other things now.

For starters, the setup of show!Dany and show!Daario's second meeting is changed from the books. There, she was fully clothed in the company of her retinue. On HBO, show!Dany is much more vulnerable: she is naked, taking a bath, with only with Missandei by her side and at the mercy of show!Daario's willingness to spare her. It's an unnecessary and offensive change made solely for the sake of hyping up show!Daario's character (at the expense of the female lead character's effectiveness).

I also want to focus on this part of their interaction:

DAENERYS: You were sent here to kill me? So why haven’t you?

DAARIO: I don’t want to.

DAENERYS: What do your captains have to say about that?

DAARIO: You should ask them.

DAENERYS: Why?

DAARIO: We had philosophical differences.

DAENERYS: Over what?

DAARIO: Your beauty. It meant more to me than it did to them.

DAENERYS: You’re a strange man.

DAARIO: I’m the simplest man you’ll ever meet. I only do what I want to do.

DAENERYS: And this is supposed to impress me?

DAARIO: Yes.

It's true that the Daario of the books also brings up Dany's beauty as a reason why he decided to join her, but we shouldn't take his word for granted. Unlike in the show, the books never question that Dany's odds of winning a battle against Yunkai are indeed very high, so it stands to reason that Daario turned to her side primarily because he's opportunistic and, as Dany puts it, "would sooner sup on gold and glory than on death".

Meanwhile, on HBO, because of the writers' numerous attempts to undermine show!Dany's military strength, skills, possessions and accomplishments, show!Daario's statement that he decided to join show!Dany because of her beauty seems like something that we're supposed to take at face value. This is gross and, in light of how they tried to imply that her subjects followed her primarily because of her beauty in the final season, predictable.

In the books, Dany is suspicious of Daario for a few reasons: she is initially afraid that he's spying for the sellswords and Yunkai (and that that would lead to her surprise attack backfiring) and considers the possibility that he's not really turning to her side, but rather that he simply wants to save his own skin. She accepts his service because she knows that he would have nothing to gain by betraying her (especially after he had already betrayed his fellow captains and after her dragons themselves failed to convey any hostile reaction against him), that his five hundred men would guarantee a victory against Yunkai and that she must be open-minded and trust other people, in spite of the prophecies about the upcoming treasons.

On HBO, show!Dany is also initially wary of show!Daario:

DAENERYS: You were sent here to kill me? So why haven’t you?

DAARIO: I don’t want to.

DAENERYS: What do your captains have to say about that?

DAENERYS: And this is supposed to impress me?

DAARIO: Yes.

DAENERYS: Why would I trust a man who murders his comrades?

However, as we can see, her questions are not the same. Unlike in the books, show!Dany is at show!Daario's mercy, so she questions why he didn't kill her right away (which signals, to her, that he might be trustworthy). Unlike in the books, show!Dany is (rightly) more doubtful of the killings of his fellow captains as indication of his reliability, especially since he could eventually do the same to her (though, again, he never does so when he has the perfect opportunity here) and since, unlike in the books, her dragons are not present in the scene (and, therefore, are not shown to lack any suspicion of him). It's certainly reasonable of show!Dany to accept show!Daario's service, though I wish she had more agency like she does in the books. It's irritating to see show!Dany being threatened (just for the sake of making a male supporting character seem more interesting to the audience) when she never had to be.

As a final note, Mero's early death is another change (along with Barristan's early identity reveal) that prevents Jorah's betrayal from being revealed the way it was in the books.

Main differences in GRRM's writing versus D&D's writing

GRRM's episode reinforces show!Dany's selflessness by showing her explicitly put her fight for the Iron Throne aside to focus on freeing thousands of Yunkish slaves and by having the Yunkish envoy offer her even more rewards than in the books (which highlights the extent of the sacrifices she's making for the Ghiscari slaves). D&D have undermined the extent of show!Dany's sacrifice in comparison to the books before and don't care about highlighting this aspect of show!Dany's character in episode 3.8.

GRRM's episode portrays show!Dany as competent and poised in her interactions with the Yunkish envoy. D&D's episode goes out of its way to undermine her and make the sellswords look better.

GRRM's episode features a new scene from the viewpoint of a minor character that adds to the storyline (because it highlights the oppression of the slaves). D&D's episode features a new scene from the viewpoint of minor characters that doesn't add add anything to the storyline (because it's focused on being gratuitous for its own sake).

With crucial differences like these, one can tell that show!Dany's portrayal would have improved if GRRM had been more influential in the show's writing choices. This is not to say that he's flawless or that the medium of a TV series doesn't have its own inherent limitations, only that he cares about her characterization, development and storyline in a way that D&D never did.

My comments on the Inside the Episode 3.7

Weiss: Daenerys is coming into her own in a powerful way in the season. She's always been very negatively predisposed towards slavery because she knows what it feels like to be property, I mean, she was a very fancy slave for all intents and purposes, she was somebody who was sold to another man, taken against her will and I think that her feelings about slavery have started to really inform her reasons for wanting the Iron Throne, it's finally started to occur to her that, if I want to take on this responsibility, it's almost - it's incumbent upon me to do something with it, and she sees this great wrong, probably the greatest possible wrong surrounding her, and she's decided that she's not just going to take back the Iron Throne because it's her right, she's gonna take back the Iron Throne because she is the person to make the world a better place than it is. She is going to not just take it, she's gonna use it for something greater than herself.

This is actually quite an insightful comment from Weiss's part; it's certainly much better than most comments (from him and especially from Benioff) that came before or that will come afterwards. I especially like that he acknowledges show!Dany's past as a sex slave and that he associates these past experiences with her decision to become an abolitionist.

I would only add three things: first, in the books, Dany is always aware that "it's incumbent upon [her] to do something with [power]", it's not something that only occurs to her after she becomes an abolitionist. Second, while show!Dany (and her book counterpart) imposes higher moral standards on herself than most characters of this series do, this doesn't mean that we should do the same. In other words, we shouldn't judge her too harshly if she ever decided to abandon her anti-slavery crusade, for she would simply be doing what any other feudal lord would do: focus on her individual goals. Third, to view show!Dany's attempts to do good (and her reflections about whether she's doing good) as something that anyone could or would do is dismissive of her character's individual principles and experiences and creates a lot of double standards against other characters.

Show!Dany's clothes

A Storm of Swords doesn't give us any description of Dany's outfits during the moments that the show is adapting in these two episodes, so I don't have much to comment. Here's a mosaic of all the outfits show!Dany wears during these two episodes:

I like that the white dress that show!Dany is wearing has a slave collar in homage to her freedmen, for what was once a symbol of oppression becomes one of social justice. Also, that dress is quite similar to show!Missandei's, making this another instance where they are seen with matching outfits:

Also, @slytarg has speculated that show!Dany's clothes in season three were a homage to Mother Mary, which is an interesting possibility.

#daenerys targaryen #asoiaf meta #asoiaf vs got #a storm of swords #asos vs got #daario naharis #s3

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micheswife · 3 years

Text

media belongs to the rightful owners.

It is good to have you back.

Warnings: fluff, angst, chpt 139 spoilers, romantic????

Ship: Levi x civilian OC.

Summary: Mira has managed to stick by Levi's side ever since he got out of the underground. Now, they finally meet.

Times were simpler back then. Back when the Eldians were unaware of what laid beyond the walls, when salt was a luxury and oceans only appeared in fiction. Mira was just nineteen year old civilian with an ordinary life. She woke up, cooked, cleaned, studied and sewed, enjoying everything life had to offer.

This was until her eyes caught the sight of a certain soldier, he looked rather cold, little did she know she would come to read the smallest changes in his expressions in a few months. The scouts had been returning from an expedition the first time she saw him, he looked devasted and she knew why. She had felt sorry for him, for them all. She so desperately had wanted to do something for them, but alas, she lacked the guts to stand up to the crowd jeering at the soldiers. Nor did she have the funds to donate, nor the courage to join them in the battle. She had been sad when she returned home that day, and her brother's portrait made it worse. He had lost his life outside the walls five years ago, on his first expedition. She ran a thumb over the wooden frame of the drawing, before writing a letter that would be the start of the painful journey that had left her with a heavy heart today.

It was a long expression of her support towards the survey corps, her sorrow towards her own lack of strength and everything in between.

"This is pathetic." She had exclaimed after having gone through the letter, ultimately tearing it apart and discarding it in the fire. The soldiers didn't need to hear her sob story.

The next month, she had rushed to the gates upon hearing the bells, a warm meal and a little note packed in her piece of rag. She secured it with her pink ribbon, tying it in an overly elaborate knot to indicate that it was present. She cringed as she recollected asking a kid to deliver the package. Having a crush does make people desperate afterall.

It was a particularly noisy group of kids she had approached, they were enamoured with the soldiers, but she was certain they were no longer alive today.

"Hey kids, I need you to deliver something." She had crouched down.

"Um...what?".

"You see captain Levi there? This is his lunch, could you please give it to him for me."

The kids were more than happy to have an excuse to interact with their hero, so the box was grabbed immediately. The innocent children never once wondered why the perfectly healthy lady couldn’t deliver that lunch herself.

"That girl wants to give you your lunch! Captain!" Mira heard one of the excited children as she scurried away into the dark alley, rushing home as fast as she could. She was terrified of having any sort of attention on her, more so when there was the possibility of rejection involved. She tucked her feelings in the back of her mind, assuming that the captain had indeed rejected her present. Mira was a pessimist like that.

But she had been wrong, because Levi was more than grateful to have received a warm meal. Even though it had resulted in a lot of annoying comments for the rest of his career, some soldiers had even claimed to have seen the mystery woman. It didn't help that the kids had described her as a thin, brown-haired woman. That was all they remembered, too excited to have spoken with Levi.

He had opened the package to find a note inside. His hopes were shattered when it revealed nothing about the sender, except for her shabby handwriting.

"Tch, could have written it neatly."

He muttered as he kept the note aside and opened the container, food still warm inside. He couldn't help but smile when he tasted the soup, there were tiny bits of meat inside. The vegetables and the freshly baked bread had fixed him for the day. He had washed the container when nobody was looking, but not before folding the note and securing it in his wallet. It was rare for people to address such gratefulness towards him, even after everything he had done.

He'd cherish those words forever, "thank you, captain Levi." Fortunately, people became more grateful after wall Maria had been reclaimed. But by that point, Mira's little notes were the only thing that comforted him. He had a friend who stayed. He would write to her after every expedition, pouring his grief, sadness and anger in it, making sure to leave out the any confidential details. In exchange, she gave him an invisible shoulder to lean on, hoping that the narration of her mundane days would somehow provide comfort. And it did, he liked knowing about the next embroidery she planned to make, he always waited for the next meal to fill his stomach, her next letter to fill his heart. She had a slightly different personality than him in that she smiled a little more, she had more innocence, but they both were equally distant, burying their need for companionship into oblivion.

They used to talk about their days, about their hobbies, but never about their relationship. They never acknowledged their type of relationship they had, but a few feelings would slip out.

Levi had stopped telling her about Hange after he felt a tinge of bitterness in her next letter, he wanted to let her know that him and Hange shared a deep but platonic love. He avoided it, however, not wanting to make things worse. It was at that moment, Levi had made a decision. If him and this mystery girl ever survived their cruel destiny, then he would pursue her. He would ask her name, and invite her over to the same place she kept his lunch box every week. Under a lone tree not far from the headquarters.

"Don't forget the dessert this time, and keep it under that tree with yellow flowers, it is behind the headquarters." He had placed his note in the clean box, and shoved it back into the hands of the same starry-eyed kid.

"Give it to her next time you see her." He wondered what happened to the little boy after their little arrangement was made. He had taken a leap of faith that day and it had worked, the girl had come back next month, she had been looking for another group of enthusiastic kids but the little boy from last month had approached her.

"The captain told me to give you this."

She had to convince him to not go up to Levi and cause and commotion. Little did she know, Levi had already seen her bribing the kid with some homemade candy which was meant for him instead. Over the next few months, Levi would try his hardest to remember her face, contemplating the decision to ask Moblit for a sketch. But he knew that Mira wound not agree, she, just like him was scared of getting too comfortable. Perhaps that fear had been the reason why they both had established such a weird dynamic. They had soon fallen into a routine of exchanging letters, and preserving them. Levi soon found comfort in the increasing familiarity, Mira's behaviour becoming more and more predictable. They both had their own set of circumstances that had prevented them from meeting in person, including the fear that it would ruin the sacred relation they had built. They could not afford to lose each other, Mira had deliberately approached him, and he had actively seeked her out in return, going as far as dealing with a noisy little brat to see the girl for once. They were not meant to cross paths, they were not soulmates, they were hardworkers. Levi barely had the time to sleep, and it took a lot of courage to talk about his feelings, get, he made himself vulnerable in those letters, grateful that someone was willing to listen.

Mira, on the other hand, had to sneak around to deliver the meals. She was poor, a mere house-helper for some rich families, but she worked extra hours to buy those fancy ingredients. Hiding letters from her parents required a lot of tact, so did rejecting each and every man her father introduced her to. All with the awareness that Levi did not and would not love her, ever. She had forced herself to find comfort in her loneliness, unlike Levi, she never poured out her emotions. She only wrote about the things she did, the funny little dreams she saw, but her feelings were a taboo topic. To top the emotional labour, the fall of wall Maria had driven her faraway from the new headquarters, so Levi would sometimes slip in some money to help her out. It felt good to provide for her, to take care of her, especially after she had lost her parents.

The relationship had went on for years, until Levi had finally expressed feeling fearful about his impending death.

"I may never come back, also, do not reply to this letter... I will have gone to Marley by the time this reaches you. Please live a long life." A tear dropped onto the letter, smudging the ink. Levi had been to Marley several times, but this was final. He needed to save the world, not just Paradis. She had cried until her lungs gave out, until she felt lightheaded, but not because Levi would possibly not return. She was scared about the pain he might experience in his final moments. Would it be a titan? A bullet? An explosion?

"God, please let there be someone to save him." she had prayed, and her prayers had been answered. The woman Mira would get jealous of had found Levi in a horrible condition. She had lost her cheer, no longer wanting the responsibility of her position. She had even suggested running away together to the Captain, and honestly Mira would have preferred for him to do that too, afterall, Hange knew him better and longer than her. But the Captain had a promise to fulfill, and he would never just give up.

Mira never knew any of it, she refused to look at the newspapers, too scared of facing the new world of extremists. The walls were gone, some scouts had returned, but she did not see the Captain. Her pessimistic mind assumed the worst, and soon enough, a little plant was dancing on her window in honour of a soldier she had presumed dead.

It had been a long time since the last letter was sent, and Levi was now in a wheel chair. He wondered about the girl, he had never bothered to ask her name, instead he had start calling her Lily, since she always wore one of those in her wavy hair.

He remembered his decision, if they survived the titans, then he would pursue her. This was his last mission life, little did he know, Mira had started pushing him out of her mind. She had been struggling with a phase, she would write long letters addressed to him and keep them tucked away to cope with her thoughts. The cold, lonely nights had been harsh on her, and she was losing her appetite. It was going to be okay though, Levi was already on a ship to Paradis, ready with a ring in his coat. For now, he would go over his speech for the first peace summit in Paradis, and then straight to Mira. He was sure he could find her.

#Levi #levi aot #levi ackerman #snk #attack on titan #aot x oc #snk x oc #snk 139 #levi heichou #levi x oc #rivai ackerman #rivalle #rivaille #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin manga #shingeki no kyoujin levi

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that-salty-bitch · 4 years

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So time I live up to my name and create some salt!

I had a Miraculous AU idea, heavy in Adrien salt.

WARNING! EMOTIONAL MANIPULATION AND ABUSE. No physical abuse, but still, you have been warned.

In so many salt stories, Lila getting the class to bully Marinette makes Marinette stronger, she begins to stand up for herself. She learns to say no when Adrien becomes obsessed with her.

Not in this.

When Lila gets the class to turn against Marinette, she shuts down. She becomes more quiet, resigned. She doesn’t reach out to anyone, and she has no support system. Tikki trys to help, but can’t do much. She becomes Guardian, and there are more weights on her than ever. Eventually she and Chat Noir defeat Hawkmoth. Adrien is shocked, and Marinette comforts him. They reveal themselves to each other, and start dating. Marionettes crush has subsided, but Adrien is adamant, and she can always fall back in love, right?

Wrong.

She never really likes him in the same way, but he guilt's her so much that she feels like she can’t leave, that it would be selfish. All the kwami see what’s happening, but they can’t convince her. Eventually they move to Gotham. It could be that Marinette needs to create balance there, or that Adrien wants to be a hero again. Either way, they move to Gotham and become vigilantes. Marinette and the kwami don’t really want to infringe on Batman’s turf, but Adrien wants to, and there can’t be a black cat without a ladybug, so she has to come along too.

Eventually, they come across the Gotham Sirens. Marinette, who knows they’re (mostly) reformed, waves, and goes over to say hi. She goes to swing her yo-yo over, but Adrien grabs her arm to stop her. The Sirens have heard about two new vigilantes that the bats have had trouble with, and were having a girls night/ scouting mission. So, they saw someone in read wave, get ready to come over, and was that a yo-yo?, and someone in black stop them.

Adrien: “What are you doing? They’re villains!”

Marinette: “They’re antiheroes now, they help the bats for the most part.”

Adrien: ”So if my father decided to just help us one day, we just forgive him? You know how I feel about that Bugaboo, are you trying to make me mad?”

Marinette will instantly start on the apologies, and by the time the Sirens are over, they’ve left. Harley didn’t hear what they were saying, but she sure knows what she saw. She saw someone doing absolutely nothing wrong, and then try to placate someone else, taking the blame for nothing at all. She sees the signs of an abusive relationship. And she sees red.

When Adrien and Marinette get home, he takes her earrings. This is something common, when she does something ‘wrong’ he will take Tikki. Time and time again she has been told that she didn’t deserve having Tikki to talk to when she ‘misbehaved.’ And she believes him every time. She truly believes that she deserves being alone for doing something (or most of the time nothing) wrong. She decides to go out to get ingredients to make an apology dinner for Adrien, and either runs into one of the Wanyes, or into Harley, who’s been looking for the two she saw earlier. You can decide who she runs into.

If it’s Harley, she will try to avoid her, remembering that she got in trouble for trying to talk to her earlier. Harley will take an interest though, and while Marinette is trying to get away, and will accidentally let slip that she’ll get punished for talking to her. Harley is concerned, but will ‘leave her alone,’ as not to get her in trouble. In reality, she is totally following her, and telling everyone (Sirens, Batfam) about a potential abuse victim.

If it’s a Batfam member that she runs into, (Not just the boys because I need more interactions w/ Steph Cass & Barbra) she could start up a conversation while shopping, (crushes are up to you, one sided or otherwise) and she accidentally lets slip that this was an apology dinner. When asked what for, she vaguely answers about talking to the wrong people. They get concerned and alert the rest of the gang, including the Sirens because they help victims of abuse.

Either way, everyone decides to look out for her, someone befriending her, (probably one of the girls because Adrien has convinced her that spending more time w/ boys is cheating on him) and they will subtly interrogate her. They figure out that he ‘depends’ on her to help him, and that something went on in Paris that made them closer.

This leads to the Justice League finding out about the Paris Situation, and Wonderwoman and Aquaman getting very upset at Green Lantern or whoever ignored them. (I stan Aquaman knowing about the Miraculous due to Plagg sinking Atlantis.)

After Marinette gets off the bench, she is extra careful to not set Adrien off, as she is best at getting the Bats off their backs about vigilantism. The Bats offer to train them, knowing they might not be able to stop them, and Marinette is all for it. There’s just one problem.

Adrien doesn’t want to do it.

Batman and bird of choice will notice Marinette’s immediate change from being enthusiastic about the training to being against the idea as soon as Adrien speaks against it. They leave not long after, and there is no doubt in anyone’s minds that they need to get her out.

While Marinette is on patrol one day, a large flower appears in her face, and sprays some kind of pollen. The earrings are providing her some resistance, but most of her energy is going to staying awake. While trying not to pass out, she accidentally stumbles off of the roof. She doesn’t notice, nor does she notice that a giant plant caught her. Finally, the pollen combined with a general lack of sleep get to her, and she passes out.

When Marinette comes to, she notices that her hands are tied. There are vines wrapping around her arms, with a red flower sprouting from the top. As she looks around, she realizes she’s... on a couch? In an apartment? With all the Sirens just hanging out?

Wait.

She scrambles to get up and get out, but she trips in her haste, drawing attention to her. Ivy uses her plants to gently guide Mari to the couch, being careful not to hurt her, but making sure she knows that she can’t leave.

Marinette is just confused.

She’s been kidnapped before, both in and out of costume. Most of the time, they want her miraculous, and the rest usually want dates. However this was new. Glancing at the clock, she realized how late it was. She really didn’t want to loose Tikki again, so she hoped Adrien would understand why she didn’t get back in time.

Harley: “Don’t worry, we’re rescuing you!”

Marinette looked at the vines, then back at Harley.

Harley: “Oh, right. Let me rephrase. We’re rescuing you even though you don’t know you need to be rescued!”

Now this makes Marinette confused. What did she need to be rescued from? Maybe the Bats were mad at them? She really needed to smooth things over for her and Adrien quickly if that were the case. Noticing her confusion, Poison Ivy took over.

Ivy: “Look, we just need to check a few things then you can go. We’re concerned that your boyfriend is abusing you, and we need to make sure you’re safe.”

Oh. Marinette can deal with this. Adrien had never hurt her outside of akuma attacks where he got mind controlled, and that wasn’t his fault. Just because he was in charge of the duo didn’t mean he was hurting her. She was just about to tell the Siren this, when she got sprayed by another flower. She got ready to fight off sleep again, but was surprised when she didn’t feel any more tired.

Ivy: “Don’t worry about that, it’s just something that will compel you to tell the truth. We won’t ask any secret identity questions, we’re just making sure you’re ok.”

They ask their normal set of questions, like, ‘has he ever hurt you’, and received odd answers like, ‘not outside the influence of the miraculous.’ When asked more about the miraculous, bubbles flew out of her mouth. as they were about to ask more, her earrings gave a loud beeping, and there was a large flash of light. When the Sirens opened their eyes, they saw a girl wearing civie clothes, with the same red and black domino mask, and a bug... thing? floating in front of her face. Marinette felt a mix of shock and relief. Shock that Tikki had released the transformation, and relief that Adrien had warned her to wear a mask underneath because she was bound to get the earrings stolen at some point. Looking at the shocked faces, she realized that she had said that out loud. She was left speechless when Tikki flew up to her face (Ivy noted how her plants seemed to grow much faster as she flew by) and ripped her mask right off. There were shocks of recognition from all of the Sirens, and as Marinette was about to ask Tikki what in kwami’s name was she thinking? Tikki cut her off.

Tikki: “*Bubbles* no. I am not about to sit by and watch you make excuses. I have been trying to warn you for so long, but you refused to listen. If it takes me revealing your identity for you to leave *Bubbles*, then so be it. Now, you are going to sit there, while I tell these three exactly what’s going on. I don’t care that you think it’s not abuse, because it is. So please, after this, take back the ring and leave. Kaalki can take you anywhere you need to go, even if not for yourself, do it for us.”

Marinette was left speechless, and Tikki turned around and started to explain the whole story. As she couldn’t say their real names, she would just use their hero names while clarifying on whether they were civilians. After the whole story, they were ready to go skin a cat. Selina would normally take offense to this, but at this point she was too angry to care. When Marinette finally broke down, everyone comforted her, and they created a plan. They would broadcast having her hostage, (after telling the bats so they wouldn’t come) and get Adrien to come rescue her. Or at least, Marinette hoped. She knew there was a slight chance that he wouldn’t come after her, or at lease leave her there for a bit as a lesson. She fought the part telling her that she would deserve that, and got ready. After feeding Tikki, she transformed and got into place. After broadcasting the video, they sat and waited. About an hour later, Adrien came crashing through the window, landing in front of her. He used Cataclysm on the chair, and that was when Marinette struck.

Marinette: “As Guardian of the Miracle Box, I, Marinette Dupain Cheng, hereby revoke Adrien Agreste’s right to wield a miraculous.”

In a flash of light, Adrien was de-transformed, ring having flown into Marinette’s finger, with Plagg looking relived. Adrien was fuming, ranting at her, until he decided to attack. The moment he lunged, he got a mallet upside the head, knocking him out.

The relief of it all being over got to Marinette, and she broke down on the floor.

Now the ending is open for interpretation! This was kind of a prompt, maybe more of an idea, but there are a few ways this could play out.

She could get adopted by the Sirens, and gain three new aunts. Maybe eventually she’ll feel up to joining them on their nights out.

She gets with Batfam member of choice. She is an adult here, so pair her w/ whoever while being mindful of that

Bruce adopts her. She fits the Wayne criteria, and his kids love her.

Come up w/ a completely original ending! Go wild!

That’s all for now, night all!

#Maribat #Adrien Salt #Adrien bashing #MLB #Miraculous #lila salt #harley quinn #poison ivy #cat woman #Marinette #Adrien #tikki #plagg #kwami #aged up

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badbadbucky · 3 years

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WIP Weds 2/24/2021!!

Here is a snippet from my current WIP, a novel called One of the Restless.

Eddie is the new president of the Restless Outlaw Pack, a werewolf motorcycle club. Their old president was murdered and another one of their members was badly hurt while investigating said murder and is going to die very soon.

Eddie sat alone a few more minutes. He stared out the window that was high up close to the ceiling. All he could see was a bright square of blue. It wasn’t even eight in the morning. It didn’t feel right for someone to die so early in the morning, with the whole day ahead. He could feel the moon pulling at him, the change roiling under his skin. Eddie heard someone walk up to the door but he didn’t turn around.

“Eddie,” Clive’s soft voice said. “It’s time.”

Eddie stood up and walked to Chuy’s side. Chuy’s breathing was wheezy and painful. The gap between each breath grew longer and longer. Everyone gathered around. Clive stood next to Eddie . Eddie took one of Chuy’s hands, Diego took the other. Chuy’s fingers were cold. Eddie rubbed them, trying to get them to warm up, wanting to give Chuy one last bit of comfort, even though he knew he probably didn’t even feel it.

Chuy took a long breath and then let it out in a little huff. He did not draw another.

Eddie pressed Chuy’s limp hand to his forehead. Diego hugged Chuy’s body. Marshall punched a wall. Arno pushed over one of the bar tables, shattering the glasses sitting on top, sending half melted ice and shards of ice skittering across the floor.

Each of the members of the club took a moment to say goodbye and then Jae held out a sheet she’d pulled off one of the beds in the bunkhouse. She and Eddie spread the sheet over Chuy. Eddie leaned down and pressed a kiss to Chuy’s covered forehead.

Greg walked into the boardroom. Eddie sighed, hanging his head. Five minutes. That was all Greg had waited, five minutes.

“What’s he doing?” Clive asked.

“Come on, let’s go in,” Eddie said. He raised his voice to the others, “meeting everybody, let’s go.”

Clive walked into the boardroom, followed by the rest of the club, Eddie hung back, waiting for Diego, who was still clutching Chuy’s hand.

Eddie went back over to Diego and squeezed his shoulder. “Come on Didi, time to go.”

“Chantal was pregnant,” Diego said, his voice strange and halting. “He was gonna be a dad. He was really excited.”

Eddie kicked a chair, it screeched across the floor before tipping over. “Goddamnit.” He walked over and pulled Diego into a rough hug. Diego hugged him back. “I’m sorry, Didi. We need you in there.”

“I don’ wanna leave him alone,” Diego mumbled.

“He won’t be,” Eddie said. He released Diego from the hug, but kept one arm around him, using the other arm to wave over Darlene. “Darlene, come here for a second.” Darlene walked over, a questioning look on her face. “Can you sit with Chuy, til we get out?”

Darlene’s gaze slipped from Eddie, to the body, to Diego staring at the floor. She reached out and stroked Diego’s hair, Diego closed his eyes and leaned into the touch. “Of course, baby.” She leaned in and kissed Diego on the cheek, then she did the same to Eddie. After she kissed him, she grabbed the front of Eddie’s cut to hold him close. “You fucking get these guys,” she whispered.

Eddie gently removed her hand from his cut, brought it up to his mouth and kissed it. “Thanks, sweetheart.” He turned and steered Diego into the boardroom.

Eddie and Diego sat down in their respective chairs and all of the chatter faded.

“You all know why we’re here,” Eddie said. “The Lupes killed Chuy. We gotta talk about retaliation.”

A ripple of talk ran through the room.

“I wanna hear from everybody,” Eddie said, “but first, I wanna make sure you’re thinking about a couple things, alright?”

Everyone at the table nodded.

“We’re down two guys now. And we still don’t know what happened to Dev,” Eddie said.

“It wasn’t the Lupes?” Dallas asked.

“No, Marshall and Tallboy don’t think so. They thought we were coming for a fight. One of their guys got killed and they were having a funeral,” Eddie told him.

“Is it related?” Clive asked.

“No,” Arno said, “I asked around a little bit. Dumped his bike, beheaded.”

Marshall’s hand involuntarily flew to his own throat.

“They still killed Chuy,” Diego said, his voice quiet, but deadly serious.

“Yeah, they did,” Eddie said. “And they will answer for that, but we need some time to regroup. We’re all hurting right now. We’re all angry. But if we go in now, we might lose even more guys. I’ve already lost enough members of my family. I think we should wait. We take this one problem at a time. Let’s figure out who killed Dev, take care of them, then, then, we get revenge for Chuy.”

“This is fucking bullshit,” Diego said under his breath, Eddie pretended he didn’t hear him.

“I heard that some of you guys want to go tonight,” Eddie said.

Marshall and Tallboy stared down at the table, not looking at Eddie. Diego glanced up at Eddie and looked at him defiantly with a set jaw.

“No, way, now way, no fucking way,” Clive said. “Everyone needs to rest, take a fucking breather. It’s been a marathon since Dev died.”

“”How we supposed to sleep when Chuy’s killers are out there drinking beer and fucking their whores?” Diego said. “We need to hit back, now.”

“It’ll start a war,” Dallas said.

“If it had been a vamp, you’d be halfway to Baker right now,” Diego said, he wasn’t shouting but was getting close.

“You want to mind how you talk to me, boy,” Dallas said.

Diego glared at Dallas, but he sat back in his chair with his arms crossed.

“They won’t expect us to come so soon,” Greg said. “We’d have the element of surprise.”

“What if they hired human security?” Eddie asked.

“We scout it out first,” Greg said.

“We’d have to leave right now to give us enough time,” Clive said.

“Yeah,” Greg said, he looked at Clive with a cocked eyebrow. He leaned forward, placing his hands flat on the table. “They killed one of our brothers, that’s all that matters.” Greg said.

“And we still ain’t found who killed Dev,” Clive said. “It’s all gonna hit the fan at the same time and we’re gonna end up spread too thin. You know that, we can’t fight a war--.”

“We fight the war wherever we need to,” Greg said. “We don’t let this slide just because--”

“It ain’t just because!” Clive said, slamming his palm flat on the table. “It’s because Dev is dead. Don’t you think we should take a minute? Look what fucking happened!” Clive darted a guilty glance to Eddie, an apology in a microsecond. He hadn’t meant to point out how thoroughly Eddie had fucked up the situation, but Clive didn’t need to apologize, he was right. Look what had happened. Look what had happened under just 48 hours of Eddie’s leadership.

“Don’t fucking tell me about Dev,” Greg snarled. “He was--”

“Enough a’ that,” Arno said, standing up. “We all loved Dev. Dev loved us. We aren’t going to get into a pissing match over it, fucking Christ, Clive’s a queer, Greg, what’s your excuse?”

“Shut the fuck up, Arno,” Greg and Clive said simultaneously.

Arno held out his arms, palms up. “I was just tryin’ to help.”

Eddie dropped his face into his palm. “Yeah, you missed your calling as a marriage counselor.” He looked up from Greg to Clive. “Arno’s right though, we need to cool down, before someone says something they regret. Alright? We’re all still sad about Dev, now Chuy. Let’s just revisit this in a bit.” Without waiting for an answer, he rose from his chair, he could see Greg’s smug face out the corner of his eye, but ignored it. He walked out of the room and over to the bar, feeling unbelievably tired. There was an old coffeemaker, and some angel had made a fresh pot. He poured himself a cup and took a long drink.

Clive came up behind him, Eddie could tell it was him by the sound of his walk, which was surprisingly light. “You can’t let this happen,” Clive said, his voice low, not wanting to be overheard.

Eddie dropped his head and let out a dispirited chuckle. Then, he turned around so he could scan the room while they spoke.

Arno, Diego, and Marshall had gone outside for a smoke. Jae was clicking through the jukebox with Dallas hovering at her shoulder and criticizing her choices. Greg and Tallboy were over talking with Darlene. Garth held a dustpan while Raton swept a pile of dust and animal hair into it. No one was looking at them.

“It isn’t up to me,” Eddie said. “It’s a straight vote, just like always.”

“It is up to you,” Clive said. He tried to grab Eddie’s hand.

They were completely hidden. No one was even close, but Eddie still moved his hand away. “Stop. Just stop,” he murmured.

Clive gave up on trying to touch Eddie. “You’re presid--”

“I know that,” Eddie said. “But you have no idea what’s going on. Who I’ve got nipping at my heels.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Greg,” Eddie murmured. “He’s calling the vote now, when everybody is all fucked up and sad. He wants my vote to be the deciding one.” Eddie turned back around, leaning hard on the counter. “I should have seen it coming. I knew he was smart, knew he was just waiting.” Eddie had allowed his suspicions of Greg to drop after the vote, when Greg had nominated him, but he’d been caught off guard by the gesture. He should have seen through it, but clearly he was not at his best.

Greg and Eddie had butted heads several times over the years. Once, they’d even gotten into a fight where Greg had broken Eddie’s nose and Eddie had broken off one of Greg’s teeth. It annoyed Dev to no end. Eddie thought maybe Dev had said something to him when he transferred, but now it was clear that Greg had just been waiting for his opportunity. Greg had known that Dev had chosen Eddie to be his successor, he knew how the vote would go, so he hadn’t bothered with that battle. He’d known Eddie would win, but if it turned out Eddie wasn’t willing to put his neck on the line for a fallen brother, then maybe Eddie wasn’t really leadership material after all. Maybe it was time for a revote…He could see it all playing out perfectly. But maybe it didn’t have to go that way.

“What--” Clive began, but Eddie cut him off with a shush.

Eddie needed a second more to think. Yeah, he could do it. The full moon ride. It wasn’t ideal, but maybe Greg had been right about a few things, maybe they should hit the Lupes now. There were several holes in Greg’s plan, but Eddie knew how to fill them. It gave Greg less room to maneuver, to try and steal the club. And he had a few other ideas for how to further limit Greg’s little power grab.

“Will you say something?” Clive said.

“Nevermind, it doesn’t matter,” Eddie said. He felt energized. Awake.

“Yes, it does. What’re you going to do?” Clive said.

Eddie walked out from behind the bar and toward the boardroom eager to go in there, to do what needed to be done. “Tallboy, tell them to come back in. Time to vote.”

#writeblr #writblr #wiring #writers on tumblr #wip wednesday #tw homophobia #tw death #werewolves #one of the restless #writersociety

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talesmaniac89 · 4 years

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Choices - Sam - Front Door

New to Choices? Start Here

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Summary: Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where your choices determine the outcome and whether it’s a Dean x Reader or Sam x Reader. Go to the intro to start your story now!

Triggers: Swearing, hostage situation, pain, worry

Choice: [You chose to go in through the front]

Y/N = Your Name

---

Glancing at the massive mansion you weighed your options. Sure, you could probably sneak around the back easier than Sam. But the front door was also most likely to draw the witches’ attention. You were smaller than the boys, you stood a better chance at dodging whatever they threw at you while the boys made their way through the house.

Sam was faster than you too. With his long legs he’d make it around the back way before you ever could. Which meant you’d get all three hunters into the house quicker. Making the hunt tip in your favour instead of the two against two it’d be while you made your way around following the tree line.

Yeah… The front door was your best bet at keeping the two men in your life safe.

“I’ll take the front door,” You said as you steeled yourself for the hunt and Sam’s surely soon to follow overprotective rebuttal. Choosing to focus on rechecking your revolver for the thousandth time, you kept your eyes away from Sam’s squared jaw and the way you could follow the worried words he swallowed back down with a bob of his adam's apple.

“No (Y/N), I’ll take…” His normally light eyes were darker where he watched the front door, as if an army of monsters were waiting for you on the other side of the white wood. His big hand shook from strain as he clenched his own gun at his side. The worry rolling off him in waves and wrapping around you like warm, soft cotton.

“No can do big man. You’ll make it ‘round the back much faster than me, and we need all hands on deck. Stat,” You shot back with a tired sigh. You didn’t have time to stand around there and argue. Your body was buzzing with unused adrenaline, your muscles tensing and relaxing with the need for action now that you were so close to finishing the hunt.

“(Y/N)...” Sam’s voice was low and rough, the early hints of a whispered argument you didn’t have time to listen to. You didn’t need to hear his many reasons, or whatever excuses he’d tried to cook up.

There was no way you were putting him, or his brother, in harm's way by sitting the hunt out. No matter what Sam was planning to say to stop you from walking through that front door. And you sure as hell weren’t going to walk around the back and leave the two of them alone in there for God knows how long with the size of the house as big as it was.

Still, you kept your eyes on your weapon, on the door, on Dean… Anywhere but Sam. Knowing that those damned puppy dog eyes could always make your stubborn strength crumble. You weren’t going to leave him. Ever. Even if you couldn’t tell him how you felt. Choosing to just hastily slip your heart into his big palm and hide it up his sleeve instead.

You not going in there... Hell, to you that meant deserting him. Even if he saw it as a way of keeping you safe from the many imagined shadows in his mind. If Sam’s fears were the monsters in his closet, then you would be the flashlight and soothing lullabies that he never got as a child. The warm hand to hold that assured him he could still rely on others, that people wouldn’t just up and leave.

You were not going to run from the front-lines. You weren’t letting him fight your battles for you as if you were some sheltered princess hiding behind the walls his fears had shaped him into. You’d promised yourself to never abandon the Winchesters, and that’s exactly why you had to go in the front door. You had to hunt with them.

“Don’t Sam. I’ll… We’ll meet up inside, ok?” Biting back the promises you wanted to give him, if only to soothe his worry, you straightened and walked past him instead. Eyes locked on the white wood of the front door as you fought the urge to brush up against his sleeve and check in on the heart you’d safely tucked away under the flannel.

“I just… Please be safe, alright?” Sam’s hand was wrapped softly around your small wrist as he stopped you in your step. Big, calloused fingers brushing against the sensitive skin above your pulse point, as if he was reassuring himself that you were still alive even as you stood right next to him. The small, gentle gesture made you catch your breath as you struggled to keep your voice strong and confident. Turning with a smile you let your own forced bright words chase the last of the shadows from worried eyes.

“Of course, I’ll kick ass in there, then we’ll go home, together,” You promised as you carefully removed your wrist from his shaky hold. The small circles his index finger has traced on the soft skin above your pulse etched into the very core of you as you forced yourself to refocus on the door. On the hunt.

In the not-so-immortal words of Elmer Fudd; it was time to hunt some rabbits… Or, well, witches. But who the fuck cared? Whatever was hiding in the McMansion ahead of you, it was as good as dead now that the Winchester’s and you had shown up to play.

Keeping your steps light and your eyes on the wooden door you tried to ignore the feel of Sam’s eyes burning into you. The warmth of worried eyes dragged up your spine the same way you’d imagined big hands do time and time again. He should be moving, not watching you run towards the door. But you couldn’t turn around to signal for him to get going. Not when you knew he was standing there, looking afraid and alone with dimming sunshine eyes that would make you want to run back to him.

And so, you kept moving, keeping your eyes on the heaviness of wood ahead instead of the soft heartrending protective worry behind you. Worry you knew wouldn’t fade until you met up again inside the house. Until he was certain you wouldn’t leave him in that achingly permanent way that each new vicious monster tried to make a reality. The way you were unfortunately likely to leave him at some point in the future. Since your lives didn’t really hold the promise of forever.

For now, you just had to rely on the heart in his sleeve to keep the hunter company. To keep Sam safe until you could have his back again.

---

The front door was locked.

Of course it was. Nothing could ever be easy. Why couldn’t just one monster, just once, make your lives a bit easier by rolling out the red carpet and lining up in front of you? A little roll-call of big and bad for you to check off, one bullet at a time.

Luckily, a locked door had never stopped you. So, just as you felt the warm worry of Sam’s eyes leave you to start moving around to the back of the house, you slid down to crouch in front of the door. Resting on the balls of your feet, you momentarily holstered your gun to dig out the small lock picking kit you always kept on you.

As the scouts said; always be prepared. And though you might not have had the girl scout, cookie sales type of childhood, you were damned sure to be prepared for any situation. Weapons and other little lethal toys included.

The lock was pretty basic. For a mansion that just screamed ‘rob me’, the owners had felt quite secure in their seclusion. Relying only on a standard single cylinder deadbolt lock. Opening the door itself was child's play. Even if the short inconvenience had your body itching for action.

As soon as you heard the satisfying click of metal sliding against metal you pocketed your kit again. Your hand finding your revolver at your side as you carefully stood back up and let your eyes glance behind you to find both boys gone. Dean would be just reaching his door by now, and Sam still had a bit left to move around the freakishly large house.

Keeping the gun pointed at the door you took a small careful breath and rolled tense shoulders. It was show time. You’d go in, kick some Copperfield wannabe’s ass and find the boys again. Just like you always did.

---

If the outside of the house had seemed large and overly luxurious, the inside screamed new money and tried too hard at being bourgeois. From the first step in on the heavy carpeted hallway to the over the top winding staircase to the second floor, the little you’d already seen of the place seemed like someone had tried to copy it right out of some over the top romance novel.

You nearly expected seeing Scarlett O'Hara glide down the stairs and invite you in for some sweet tea and drama. Instead you were stuck with the Scarlet Witch, and not the cool, kick-ass superhero version. Yours were a little less Wanda and a hell of a lot more Wicked Witch of the West.

Sighing, you weighed your possible options. Other than the stairs the hallway split into two nearly identical rows of rooms that seemed to go on for forever. One snaking away under the stairway and out of sight, while the other continued down towards what you guessed was the back of the house, where Sam would be coming in.

You could take that hallway, down past the smiling faces of the former owners and hex bag recipients. Happy in the bliss of picture-perfect lives and unaware the gory fate that awaited them. That’s the way your heart wanted you to take. To get to Sam’s side as quickly as possible. But you knew it would be a waste of precious seconds. You needed the whole house checked. Not just that one hallway. Both boys would end up there and easily cover that length of smiling portraits between them.

Tearing your eyes off the quick and easy way to get back to Sam you let your eyes glide over to what was hiding under the stairs. That was most likely the way Dean would head down once he reached the front of the house. The hallway looked darker than the others. And your best friend would always shield the rest of you by taking the most dangerous tasks on himself.

Which left you with the winding wuthering heights of staircases. Swallowing down a couple of creative swear words you aimed your gun slightly higher, keeping your eyes peeled for movement on top of the stairs. You had to go up there. It was the right choice to make. But that didn’t mean your heart didn’t sting like a son of a bitch at the thought of leaving the two men to deal with the downstairs area.

You couldn’t let yourself dwell on it. You’d meet up with them afterwards. It was fine.

Two witches. It shouldn’t take long. And then you’d be back by their side, watching their back as they watched yours. But first, you needed to find the two monster squatters and exterminate them.

Keeping your eyes and gun raised, you stepped onto the stupidly wide steps of the stairs. Taking them one at a time as you paced your quiet breaths with soft, careful steps against the carpeted stairs. Damn it, this place really had to be hell to clean. Not only was it massive, but with this much carpet around, a bucket of suds and hot water just wasn’t going to cut it.

At least your steps were swallowed by the thick carpet below your heavy steel toed boots. Which made it much easier for you to move relatively quickly up the unnecessary amount of steps in the lazy slope of the staircase. Allowing you to reach the top and scan the new endless hallways that came into view after just one strained minute.

Fuck.

Of course there’d just be more hallways, more smiling faces in pretty picture frames. Well, you had no choice but to start looking. One door at the time as you rolled your shoulders and steadied your gun, one finger resting on the trigger guard as you chose a hallway at random and stepped towards the first of many doors.

---

Damn it, how many rooms did one couple need? They had more guest rooms than you had enemies, and that was saying something. As there wasn’t a shortage of people who wanted to kill you.

Your muscles were screaming at you from where they’d been forced to tense and relax every time you carefully pushed a new door open, only to be met with another empty room. Or, in one case a linen closet that was twice the size of your room back in the Men of Letters bunker.

Freaking unfair.

Yet, you kept walking, slow and steady, towards the end of the hallway. Checking one room at the time and keeping an eye on the still unchecked rooms as you strained to hear any sign of a scuffle from downstairs.

It was so quiet... Screw the damned cliché, but it was right. It was too quiet. Two of the best hunters you knew were searching downstairs. You should have heard something by now. Anything. Yet, even as you stopped moving and held your breath to listen, there was nothing. No sound of a fight, or gunshots from downstairs. Where were the damned witches hiding?

Of course, the silence was a good sign. The Winchester brothers were still safe. You had to believe that, even as the pressure cooker of worry and what ifs boiled deep in your gut. The two men in your life were somewhere in the big mansion. And your legs ached from where you had to force yourself to continue your search without going to look for them.

Every part of your body wanted to screw the logical hunter 101 ingrained in your mind after years in the business to find them, to find Sam, back downstairs. But you knew you had a job to do, and you were damned good at your job. ‘Employee of the month’-good. You needed to stick to the plan, to go slow and steady, not the frantic steps of overprotective love and worried hearts.

Sam had your heart. You’d slipped him that a long, long time ago. For now, you had to rely on your mind, on your instincts and your training. You’d be back by his side soon enough. But for now, you had to stifle your fears, and move on with the search. Like a good little soldier.

The Winchesters were the best in the business.

You loved Dean like a brother, and your best friend could take care of himself. Sam too, you knew that he could. Sam Winchester was the strongest man you’d ever had the pleasure of stumbling headfirst into unrequited love with. Broken and reshaped so many times by an unforgiving world until the pressure had made him a diamond, all sharp and beautiful, as he reflected the harsh reality of the Winchester family business through sunshine eyes and gave the world a rainbow in return.

Breathing out through pursed lips, you forced your thoughts to return to the hunt as you shifted your hold on the gun. Fingers tightening around it as you kept your eyes on the remaining few doors of the hallway. A small, barely there sound drawing your eye from the door you’d been eyeing and down to the end of the hall. Bingo.

Smirking to yourself, you ignored the last few doors and strode quietly towards the final door. Someone was in there, and it sure as hell wasn’t one of the brothers.

Moving your finger off the trigger guard. You reached out to turn the handle of the door, only to find the chrome turn in your hand without any movement from your careful fingers. Taking a step back, you readied yourself to see what was hiding behind door number… Hell, you hadn’t bothered counting.

Coming face to face with wide blue eyes as the witch pulled the wooden door open and froze in her steps from the gun aimed right between them. Allowing yourself a quick victorious grin you nodded at your gun as your eyes stayed on the Bibbidi-Bobbidi-Bitch in front of you. Speaking up before she could spout some bullshit about guns not being able to kill her.

God, you were just so sick and tired of the same stupid back and forth that all the monsters seemed to have to go through when you fought them. Like you were some sort of greenhorn that didn’t know your vamps from your wendigos.

“Witch killing bullets, don’t fucking move,”

Of course, the witch parted painted lips.

Still intent on forcing you through the little high school play of empty threats or promises of pain that you’d had to sit through one too many times. Yet, before she could start saying whatever prompt the monster playbook told her to say, she was forced quiet by a gunshot from downstairs.

The loud explosion of sound shook your concentration for just one small second. As you glanced down the hallway towards the stairs. Worry heavy in your stomach. But that was all it took. The witch was just that fraction of a heartbeat faster than you as she sent you flying sideways into the wall, your head connecting with the smiling picture frames and your gun dropping to the carpeted floor with a dull thud.

Fuck.

Your bleary mind barely had the time to even formulate the single swear word as darkness swallowed your vision. The edge of a frame had connected with your temple. There was no way you could keep yourself from slipping temporarily away from the real world. Your last thought as you faded into nothingness against the pounding pain in your head was Sam.

A weak prayer for his safety on your lips as you crumpled to the floor.

---

You hadn’t been out for long. You knew that much. The still fresh pounding in your head that had brought you back and the coppery taste of blood on your tongue was still in the early stages as you forced your eyes to open again.

But it had been long enough for the witch to pull you back into the bedroom she had been busy leaving and tie you to a wooden chair in the middle of the white walled room. The leather belt tied around your wrists burning against the skin and erasing the soft touch left above your pulse point by Sam as you tried to loosen it.

“Oh, look who’s up!” The woman in front of you was impeccably dressed, but that didn’t make her any less slimy to you as she softly clapped manicured hands together like a giddy child with a new toy. Her vicious attempt at teasing mismatched with the classic black dress that ended at her knees and matching heels that were leaving dents in the room’s heavy carpet.

“Bite me, bitch,” You spat back as you tugged against the restraints. No good, you couldn’t even make the leather biting into your wrists give a little. If you were proud of your girl scout preparedness, then she was the one with the eagle scout rank. She’d tied your arms up good. Though she’d left your feet alone, you noted, which at least gave you some chance.

She clearly had plans for you as she sauntered closer. Maybe she was going to hex you, or hurt you. But she sure as hell didn’t look like she was getting ready to kill you. No, you were playing the role of hostage. A little bait to get the Winchesters to come running and keep them from hurting her.

Damn it.

You knew better than to be inattentive when facing a monster. But the gunshot had come out of nowhere, and after spending so long in absolute silence, it had rattled your mind and broken your focus.

Setting your angry eyes into the witch in front of you, you caught the glint of steel behind her where your revolver had been thrown haphazardly on the bed. If only you could get loose then she’d be toast in a second. But the leather was tied tight enough that you could nearly taste it mixing with the blood in your mouth from the cut on your lip.

You had to think. You didn’t have many options. You could scream. Call for help and wait for the cavalry to come to your rescue. Sam and Dean were smart, they’d know what your scream meant, and they’d come running in prepared, instead of whatever trap the witch hoped to prepare. But it wasn’t a perfect solution. Someone could still get hurt. Sam could still get hurt.

Or, you could keep fighting. Keep being the good little soldier and use whatever you could to get out of the chair and knock the Eastwick wannabe in front of you down a few pegs.

It wasn’t much of a choice at all. But you had to choose and choose fast.

---

Make your choice below to move the story along:

What do you do?

[Try to get loose] or [Scream for help]

---

Confused or New to Choices? Start Here Choices is an interactive Supernatural choose your own adventure story where you pick your Winchester brother and go on a hunt for one of 8 different endings in total. Four for Sam and four for Dean (2 happy and 2 bad endings per brother). Go to the intro to start your story!

---

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darker-soft-starker · 5 years

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My Best Friends Dad Pt. 2 (Pt.1, Pt.3, Pt.4)

4.9k tagging: @starkerkitty @keepingupwiththekardamomme @valiantthewriter

December had brought Peter back home for the winter holidays, saddled with a duffle full of laundry he’d never gotten around to doing and bone-deep exhaustion. The first thing he did upon arrival was flop down on his bed and sleep for fourteen hours straight, still in his jeans and sneakers, drooling onto his pillow. Second was to spend some proper time with his Aunt - and the third was catching up with his friends. His dear, dear friends.

“I can’t believe he broke up with you, what an asshole.”

Pursing his lips around the straw of his strawberry milkshake and sucking, Peter watches the interaction with interest as MJ shrugs from across the table. She doesn’t look too bothered by her recent single status if the disinterested lift of her shoulders is of any indication.

“Tinder boys. I’m not exactly heartbroken,” is all she says in response, stealing a fry from Neds’ plate and chewing it leisurely.

Peter raises his eyebrows at her in a deliberate fashion, dipping his chin when she catches his dubious gaze.

“What’re you looking at, nerd?”

“Since when are you on Tinder?” he asks, reaching over to steal a fry of his own, frowning when Ned slaps his wrist.

“Question is, Petesicle,” Harley cuts in, nabbing his own fry from Ned’s plate, “why are you not on Tinder?”

Peter shrugs, the back of his neck going warm. “I just like meeting people the old fashion way?”

“Vintage,” MJ nods.

“It’s not vintage.”

“Can you guys stop,” Ned interrupts as all three go to reach for his plate at the same time. It’s par for the course that he gets ignored by everyone. Huffily conceding defeat he slides the meal into the centre of the table. Ned’s nice like that, Peter thinks as he steals two more fries.

“What about him, he’s your type, right?” Harley says, pointing towards a tall male at the entrance of the diner. Peering over, the man looks to be in his thirties, carries himself with careless ease, hair sandy and artfully windswept. It’s the middle of winter but he’s in a t-shirt, undoubtedly to parade the bulge of his biceps.

Peter shakes his head. “Really not my type.”

“Dude, he’s fucking hot,” his best friend says in near disbelief, leering shamelessly and winking when the man notices him staring. “He’s my type.”

“He’s like twice your age,” Ned adds, eyebrows drawing together as he assesses the guy. “He probably has a kid or something.”

“Yeah, so? That just means he has more experience.”

“Amen to that,” MJ says, fistbumping Harley even as Ned fixes them a judging stare.

Peter watches as the guy walks towards the counter, hips swaying with an over-confident swagger. The sunglasses tucked into the collar of his cotton shirt drags the material down to reveal the skin of his chest, shiny and hairless. The guy even winks flirtatiously at the poor girl behind cashier who looks distinctly unimpressed.

“Yeah, no thanks.”

MJ rolls his eyes at him, kicking her foot out under the table and connecting with his shin. “Okay, and when was the last time you got your dick wet, Parker?”

Peter kicks her back.

“Does it matter?”

“Dunno dude, you seem a little tense.”

“Yeah, because I’m busy with school and work. Getting some isn’t exactly a top priority right now.”

“You’re on winter break,” MJ corrects.

He somehow barely withholds the urge to gesture wildly around him, as if to articulate his lack of options, the only people in the diner besides them and the not-hot guy being an elderly couple and some middle-school kid. He fails to suppress the heat that noticeably paints his cheeks pink, forever uncomfortable with being the centre of attention. His friends are the absolute worst. He’s going to put them all up for sale.

“I’m just...enjoying being single for once. Y’know, just happy to just be by myself.”

Even Ned stares at him blankly. “There’s no one in this entire town you would mess around with?”

Peter scoffs. “No.”

“Not even the hot girl that works at Dairy Queen?”

“No.”

“Dude, even I’d fuck her,” MJ adds, looking slightly offended on her behalf.

“Can I remind everyone that I’m here to spend time with May and you guys - I’m not here to get laid?”

“Oh fuck, fuck… Tony that’s, ahh yeah, right there --”

Using the grip he has on Tony’s hair, he manoeuvres him to bring his lips from where they were sucking at his neck up to his own. Tony doesn’t falter at the change, and surges forward to deepen their kiss, groaning into Peters’ mouth. God, Tony is so good with his tongue, Peter thinks as their kiss turns filthy, the mans stubble coarse against his chin as their lips slide together. His friends weren’t wrong about men with experience - although it might just be natural talent too.

The hands on his ass squeeze tighter and he can’t help but arch his back a little, moaning as Tony bites at his bottom lip. Peter sits perched on a dusty worktable with Tony firmly between his legs, they’re wrapped together so tightly he can no longer smell the sawdust and engine oil.

“We should, uh -” he pants against Tony’s mouth, pulling back a little. “We should slow down. Harley could…”

“Yeah,” the man agrees, but doesn’t pull away. If anything, he uses the grip on Peter’s ass to slide him closer. Tony dips his head to latch on to a sensitive spot beneath his jaw, scraping his teeth against the skin and soothing it with his tongue.

“I’m - hahh, oh my god - I’m serious,” Peter insists, even as he locks his ankles behind Tony and grinds his hips forwards, seeking friction against the mans stomach. It’s hard to remember what his point was, head hazy with the scratch of stubble against his neck, in perfect conjunction with the wet, sucking heat of Tony’s mouth, the pinch of his teeth against the column of Peter’s throat.

What was he saying again?

Oh, right.

“Harley might --”

Tony pulls back a little to give him a judgemental stare, but pointedly keeps his hands on Peter’s ass.

“You’ve said my sons’ name more in the past five minutes than you have mine. Should I be worried? Working a bit harder? Feedback is always appreciated, just not always considered.”

Although he knows the affrontedness is all an act, the man just looks looks so put out, pouting ever so slightly, Peter can’t help but cup Tony’s cheeks, planting a quick kiss on his lips. Tony predictably tries to deepen it but Peter leans back, grinning.

“I’m just saying, he’s gonna wake up soon and wonder where we are.”

Tony sighs, head tilting downward. “Were you always such a boy scout?”

“Were you always such a horny, old lech?” Peter retorts, carding his fingers through Tony's hair as the man noses along his neck.

“Yes,” Tony says seriously, nipping at the skin sharply. “Since birth.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep, I’m told it’s incurable. Don’t want to complain or anything, but it’s a real hardship.”

“Yeah,” Peter agrees, smiling dumbly as Tony leans in to brush their lips together. “I can tell.”

For a few quiet moments they trade slow, lazy kisses, Peter easily sinking into the warmth of the man in front of him and relaxing into his embrace. It’s not hard to be with Tony like this, wrapped in their little bubble, like nothing outside it exists and quickly forgetting it does.

One of the Tony’s hands slip under his shirt to delicately caress the small of his back, calloused fingers sending tingles up his spine. Peter is almost tempted to say fuck it and throw off his shirt, hop off the table, sink to his knees and give Tony the sloppiest blow-job of his life. But he knows his best friend too well. As much as it’s a turn off to think, he knows that after a good solid ten hours sleep Harley’d be crawling out of bed - which would be right around now.

“I just missed you, baby,” Tony says against his lips when they part, the words a vibration against Peters mouth, big brown eyes are soft and glazed as they track over Peter’s face.

“Missed you too,” he whispers between them.

“I’m sorry I couldn’t come up to see you more often.”

He shakes his head. “Don’t be, its --”

“No, I should have --”

“Dad, you in there?” Harleys voice yells from a few feet away, outside. “Have you seen Peter?”

“Fuck,” Peter mutters, pushing Tony away from him and sliding off the table. His heart pounds as he straightens his shirt and adjusts himself in his jeans. Tony does the same and calls out to confirm they’re both in the garage.

They spare a shared glance as they continue efforts to themselves look more presentable and Peter can only hope that his lips don’t look as kiss-swollen as Tonys’ do. There’s no more than a spare second to arrange themselves at the open hood of a car before the garage door swings open, handle banging against the wall.

“ - and that’s how you can tell the difference between a problem with the alternator and a problem with the engine coils,” Tony directs to Peter, gesturing to the parts with a wrench he picked up from somewhere.

Peter nods studiously at the ‘lesson’ before turning his head back towards his friend, heart racing. “Morning,” he greets, hoping his smile looks natural and not like he was humping his friends dad a minute ago.

“Hey, look who’s up,” Tony says loudly, half turning to give his son an unimpressed stare. “And before noon! Did you wet the bed or something, kid?”

“Fuck off, dad,” Harley yawns, shuffling between them and staring down at the rusted engine. “What’re we working on?”

Tony seems to freeze for a split second while thinking of a suitable excuse and Peter blabs to fill in the silence.

“May. Uh, she’s having trouble with her car, it’s um, starting weird? Tony was showing me what might be the issue.”

“Cool,” Harley replies, uninterested. “What’s for breakfast?”

Peter barely reigns in the sigh of relief, sparing a shared glance with Tony over his friends bowed head.

“Lunch,” Tony corrects, dropping the wrench and wiping his hands on a discarded rag. “And you’re on sandwich duty. Thanks for offering kid, I’ll have a BLT.”

“Oh, c’mon --”

“I’ll help,” Peter says, rolling his eyes as he leads his friend out of the garage, casting a look back at Tony and heading through to the house. If Harley catches the second-too-long stare between his friend and his father, he doesn’t say anything. It feels like they dodged a bullet - again.

Truth is, Peter isn’t sure how much longer that he and Tony can keep this a secret - or even if he wants to. It’s getting harder to find excuses to come over or to give reasons why he isn’t seeing anybody. It’s becoming difficult to look at his best friend in the eye and not blurt out the truth.

Over the course of the semester Tony made the lengthy drive up to campus a few times to spend a weekend with him. He doesn’t know what Tony told his son as an excuse for the sporadic weekends away, but whatever it was seemed to circumvent any suspicion.

And it was... really nice. They got a handful of days in a town where no one knew them, where they could openly be together. They’d go on real dates, holding hands in restaurants and smiling at each other over the table, there were cheek kisses as they embraced on the sidewalk, hands in each others back pockets. Mostly though, time was spent in Peter’s shared apartment, alone in his bedroom, taking advantage of not needing to hide for once. His housemates didn’t care who he was fucking so there were no furtive glances or kisses. Peter liked both - the thrill of getting caught and the calm that being open brought - but it was nice to not have to lie.

It wasn’t all sex, either. Sprawled in bed, sated and spent, there were conversations between them that could fill libraries. Over dinner it was all witty banter and sharing stories about their lives and common interests. It was feet in laps and sharing the bathroom sink as they brushed their teeth together.

It was... intimate.

Peter has never had a relationship like this before. Girlfriends and boyfriends, yes, but they seemed so casual in comparison. At some point over the last six month this thing with Tony had become something more. He was important.

Having something that important made his guilt all the worse that he was hiding it from the people that matter to him most. He’d find himself getting worked up over it, but then Tony would call or send him a text saying he can’t wait to see him again and suddenly it’s like he’s on cloud nine. It was like he perpetually oscillated between guilt and delight.

There will be consequences down the track, Peter knows. But this is okay, for now.

“Dude, what’s wrong with your neck - did you get a rash?”

It has to be, he thinks, as he lies through his teeth.

-------

“So I got that job,” Ned says from where he lies on Peters floor, staring dazedly up at the ceiling.

“Congrats, dude,” Peter replies, although he has no idea what job Ned applied for.

To his left, Harley groans loudly as he struggles to sit up, gesturing to the copious boxes of take out on the floor. “Does that mean you’re paying for the next round?”

They’re all in a similar state, utterly overstuffed and seconds away from slipping into a food coma should they close their eyes. The only two that seem to be holding up from their Thai feast were Betty and MJ, currently trash-talking each other over a round of Mario Kart, acting as if tryptophan is no match for them.

It’s good to be home, he thinks.

“Where’s May?” Ned asks in lieu of answering Harley, shifting to sit up and directing his attention to Peter.

“At work,” he replies distractedly, busy firing back a flirty text at Tony. “Should be home soon.”

“Did she clean out your room? It smells nicer,” Harley comments, sniffing around idly.

“Yep.”

Another text lights up his phone which he reads instantly. He nods vaguely at his friends question, not caring how eager he seems to Tony, fingers working rapid-fire to respond quickly.

“Did she say it smelled like jizz and feet in here?”

“Yeah,” Peter responds, not really listening.

“Do you smell like jizz and feet?”

“Mhmm.”

“Are you made of jizz and feet?”

“Sure.”

“Who are you texting, jizz-feet?”

“Yeah - hey!” He cries out as the phone is swiftly plucked out of his hands. His whole body goes numb. stomach dropping to his feet as he sees Harley scrolling through the texts.

A surge of panic and adrenaline has him reaching forward quick as a gunshot, arm outstretched to take the device back out of his friend's hand. Once it’s safely back in his grasp he fixes his friend a withering stare.

“Uncool, dude,” Peter says, punching his friend in the thigh.

God, how much did Harley read? Fuck. He tries to run over in his mind if his friend was recently mentioned in them or if Peter ever referred to Tony by his name. Shit.

Harley doesn’t seem to be suspicious or upset, smiling crookedly at Peter in the same way he always does and raising his hands up in surrender. Their friends titter at their antics and some of the tension bleeds out of him.

“Sorry, Pete.”

“No you’re not, nosy asshole.”

Harley shrugs. “I’m not. I’m also not sure who Missus is, but I guess that answers the question of why you’re not getting laid.”

“Wha --”

“Pete’s got a girlfriend, guys.”

“Ooh, who is she?” Betty asks, abandoning her focus on the game to join in on the conversation. The interested, earnest grin that she directs toward Peter is both disturbing and worrying.

“Is it the girl that keeps giving you half price coffee at Perry’s?” Ned joins in, knocking over a half-empty carton of rice to edge closer.

Peter issues him a judgemental glare to try to mask the mounting panic racing through his blood. Confused as to how they came to the conclusion that he’s dating a woman, he tries to piece together the dots - missus - and then it hits him.

He had lazily saved Tony’s contact as mrs - as in Mr. S, the formality from when he’d first met the man and politely referred to him as his guardians had taught him. It had been Mr. Stark in the beginning.

He silently thanks every deity known to him that Harley didn’t come to the correct conclusion and sends a mental middle-finger to every teacher who harped on about his grammar.

“I bet it’s his physics professor and that’s why he’s keeping it a secret,” MJ speculates, abandoning her controller to look him over.

He can’t help it. The attention and subsiding anxiety has his face burning.

“First of all, gross,” he says, pointing a finger at MJ. “She’s like ninety. Second, they’re not my girlfriend, it’s just a thing.”

“A thing,” she repeats drily.

“Yes, a thing. Can you please drop it?”

He almost says they’re not real, which would be closer to the truth because there is no she involved at all - instead what comes out of his mouth is another terrible lie to cover up something that he tells himself everyday isn’t wrong, just misunderstood.

It feels a little wrong though, when he doesn’t bother to correct his friends, feels like an asshole both to Tony and to everyone else. It’s one of the biggest secrets he’s ever kept, something that makes him so happy - and that’s what’s ironic - undercover everyone is satisfied, it’s the reveal that will rock the boat. There isn’t a way this ends well in the open.

Harley, sensing his unease is the one to call off the troops. It’s why he’s Peter’s best friend, after all.

“Alright, whatever Petey-poo. Keep it to yourself.”

“Thanks, Harls.”

The guy shrugs and the conversation quickly changes to Christmas plans. He tries to keep track of the flow of words, despite the deafening beat of his heart in his ears. The guilt of harvesting such lies crawls up on him like slime, leaving its potent residue wherever it touches.

Not for the first time he wonders if he’s in over his head.

-------

Christmas comes and goes, modest as ever in the Parker household. He gifts May with a set of acrylic paints and a few cheap canvas, and he gets socks and sweaters along with a new chess set in return.

The time spent up to new years is speckled with group hangouts, in duos or all together, taking long drives or just shooting the shit, drinking cheap alcohol and mourning their sparse bank accounts. The longer he’s back home, the more the strange, floaty dissonance from re-entering his old life disappears. He eats way too much, has many grand plans of getting ahead on next semester readings, but ends up doing none.

It’s good.

Except...he wants. He tries not to push his hangouts with Harley to be at the Stark household in order to alleviate suspicion - but it’s been almost a week since he’s seen Tony and he just wants to be with him. The late night calls and daily texts are great, but it’s not the same as being together, especially since now they're only a short drive away.

Growing increasingly desperate, he considers renting a motel room for them or getting a hold of Mays schedule so he can plot out a timetable to have Tony over. Turns out all of that is unnecessary when Tony texts him first.

>> so…Harley is going away for the weekend

A smile lights up on his face, fingers shaking with how swiftly they type out a response.

<< oh yeah? sounds like it might get lonely having that house to yourself

>> exactly. I was thinking of inviting this cute guy around to stay but not sure if he’d say yes.

<< pretty sure he would say yes. he’d be an idiot not to

>> better not be an idiot then. see you saturday morning, beautiful?

<< c u then xo

He falls back on his bed, grinning.

The week leading up couldn’t go slower, dragging on and feeling what seems like a hundred days. It doesn’t diminish Peters excitement though, if anything the anticipation only amplifies as he the days wear on. He finds ways to busy himself with video games and starting his studies - and then finally it’s the day.

With his worn duffle slung over his shoulder he tells May with a kiss to her cheek that he’s going to be staying at the Stark’s for the weekend. She waves him off disinterestedly, telling him to behave and have fun and he doesn’t need to be told twice, he’s out the door. He plans to have a lot of fun indeed.

Twenty minutes later he’s rolling up to the Stark household, Harley’s old truck noticeably missing from the driveway. He drops his bike around the side of the house, wiping his hands on his jeans and approaching the front door with the intention to knock.

Except Tony swings it open before his knuckles make contact. The sight that the older man makes in makes his mouth dry, donned in his typical wife-beater and jeans. It couldn’t have been longer than a week since they’d last seen each other but the need to touch the other man is so visceral that he’s barely inside the house before Peter’s on him.

Dropping the bag at his feet, his freed up hands to clasp the nape of Tony’s neck, leaning in to connect their lips. Hands settle on his waist as Tony tilts his head, deepening the kiss.

“Hello to you too,” Tony says, pulling back wearing a smile on his face.

Peter feels his own smile forming in response. “Did you miss me?”

Tony pretends to think. “Nope. Not even remotely.”

“Good, me neither. Didn’t spare you a single thought.”

“Same, I almost forgot who you were,” Tony quips back, smile still on his face as he leans down to grab Peter’s bag, kissing his temple before leading him into the house by the hand.

“Guess that’s what happens in your old age,” Peter says as they wander to Tony’s room where his belongings are dropped by the bed.

“Brat.”

“Senior.”

Tony hauls him in by the waist until their bodies are flushed together. Peter laughs as Tony wetly kisses the hinge of his jaw, prickly facial hair tickling the sensitive spot. That’s not where he wants the older man, so he places a palm on Tony’s cheek to gently direct him back up to capture his lips in a bruising kiss. As Tony’s tongue enters through he seam of his mouth he groans, snaking a hand down to palm at Tony’s crotch through his jeans.

“Didn’t anyone teach you to respect your elders?” Tony says, voice strangled as Peter continues his ministrations.

“That went out the window when I fucked an elder,” Peter snarks, shoving Tony to sit at the edge of the bed and sinking to his knees.

“That’s fair.”

He leans forward to nuzzle at Tony’s crotch, mouthing wetly at the denim and running his hands slowly up the man's thighs. He feels Tony’s cock slowly hardening under his lips, a thrill of its own that he has any sort of effect on someone like Tony. The soft groans and twitching fingers has Peter helping him out, unbuttoning and lowering the zip of the fly, pushing the jeans down enough to free Tony’s cock.

Without hesitating, he takes hold of it loosely with his hand, jacking it and looking up at Tony dutifully when fingers under his chin direct his face upwards.

Pupils blown, Tony presses a thumb to Peter’s bottom lip, running it lightly over the seam before Peter opens him mouth, sucking the digit in.

“Look at you,” Tony says fervently as his cock is getting worked. “Any of those college boys ever tell you how gorgeous you are?”

Peter releases the thumb in his mouth to duck his head, a vain attempt to hide the blush that crawls over his cheeks. He doesn’t trust himself to speak with the heat coiling up his gut and into his heart, so he shakes his head no and places a tender kiss on the head of Tony’s cock instead, laving at it with his tongue.

“They couldn’t appreciate a good thing,” Tony continues, gently carding a hand through Peters hair.

There is no suppressing the quiet whine that comes out his throat, even as he takes the entire head into his mouth. He missed Tony. He missed these moments, how good they make each other feel.

He kisses down the length of Tonys cock, mouthing at the base, trimmed pubic hair brushing his cheek. Rising back up he does his best to take the whole thing in his mouth, both girthy and long, stuttering two-thirds of the way through. At first gag he pulls off, using his hand to take what he can’t while he blinks away the tears from his eyes.

Breathing deeply he tries again, focusing on the texture of skin, the salty taste of pre-cum and sweat as he bobs up and down. He’s helpless when he looks up at Tony, expecting his head to be tilted back - instead he’s met with half-lidded eyes, hitched breaths and eye contact that goes on too long to be considered casual.

“Just like that, sweetheart,” Tony encourages as Peter continues his ministrations, spurring his motivation further. As the man traces his cheekbone Peter takes special care to pay attention to the mans balls, fondling the sack with his spare hand and taking time to suckle at them, just to hear Tony’s helpless groans.

Tears spring to his eyes when he refocuses his attention to the mans cock, the head hitting the back of his throat, but the way the hand in his hair scraps his scalp in rapture has him doubling his efforts.

“Christ, baby. Didn’t know I’d been waiting for you all this time,” Tony says, voice raspy, hips undulating.

Whether it’s the movement or the words, tears slip down Peter’s cheeks, his heart doing something weird.

It’s only a few more moments of working Tony’s cock before the man is warning him, legs locking up on either side of his shoulders as he cums, spilling into Peter’s mouth with a groan.

Tony, swiftly gathering his wits, helps Peter off his knees and onto the bed, kissing him soundly before Peter barely has a chance to swallow the load. It’s dirty, intimate, and makes his cock throb even more than any of the previous behavior. He breaks their kiss to strip himself out of his shirt, pulling himself out of his jeans to attend to his own erection.

The sweat on his palm is just enough to make the friction pleasurable, spilling his release over onto his hands after only a handful of strokes.

Sated and breathless, he flops back onto the bed, resting on his elbows and grinning up at Tony.

“So, what do you want to do this weekend?”

“Oh, I can think of a few things.”

---

For all their fervent hurriedness things don’t really escalate much from there. Maybe it’s the early hour, or the relief at seeing each other again with the prospect of an entire weekend alone, two whole days of not having to hide or take what they can get in small moments.

The day is mostly spent curled up on the couch, exchanging slow kisses and grinding slowly against one another, undressed and unworried. It’s the most exquisite, drawn out foreplay that Peter has ever been a part of, feeling content and turned on in equal measure. Tony will kiss him behind his ear as a lead up to nothing, just doing it because he can or spoon behind Peter on the couch, half hard and doing nothing to alleviate it.

Towards the late afternoon they agree on take-out pizza for dinner and some reality TV re-runs. As Tony orders the food Peter wanders into the kitchen to pour himself a glass of water, stretching his body as he stares out the kitchen window, sunset rays bathing the room in an orange glow.

He shivers a little as his bare feet make contact with the chilled tiles, glad he pulled on his jeans - and as he drinks he wonders how this is his life, how he feels too lucky for the guilt to surface anywhere near the forefront.

Strong arms wrap circle his waist as Tony sneaks up on him, embracing him from behind. Peter relaxes into his hold, shoulders dropping while gently clasping Tonys forearms.

He allows his neck to go lax, head falling back to rest on Tonys warm shoulder and for a few moments they just stand there, swaying softly and staring into the darkening outdoors.

“Food should be here soon,” Tony murmurs, rubbing his stubbled cheek against Peters.

“You get the one without pineapple?”

“No, it definitely has pineapple. Only pineapple, I know it’s your favorite.”

“You’re a jackass,” Peter says, turning around in Tony’s arms and kissing the shit-eating grin off his face.

By the time the doorbell rings thirty minutes later his lower face is red with fresh stubble burn, a row of burgeoning hickeys stippled along his neck and hair resembling a birds-nest. Tony, faring worse with cum speckled in his beard and eyelashes, had gone to wash up.

Smiling dazedly, Peter pulls his jeans back up and ambles to the front door still shirtless, picking up the twenty dollars that Tony left on the counter along the way.

When he swings the door open the smile swiftly drops off his face, heart falling faster than an anvil.

Before him Ned stands in a crisp, new uniform, awkwardly holding their pizza and giving Peter a surprised smile.

“Oh, hey Peter! Didn’t expect to see you here, I have this order for Mr. Stark?”

Shit, he thinks, mind flashing back to Ned mentioning his new job.

All too aware of how he must look standing flushed and semi-naked, he tries to school his expression into something neutral, crossing his arms over his bare chest.

“Uhh, yeah I can take that - “

“I thought Harley was going away this weekend,” Ned says conversationally, still holding the pizza.

“Yeah, he, uh --”

“What’s the hold up, babe?” Tony asks as he approaches from behind, stopping in his tracks when he catches sight of Ned. Peter can’t help as his eyes shutter closed, feels Tony’s entire body stiffening beside him.

“Mr. Stark?” “Well, fuck,” Tony says eloquently.

#starker #starker fic #ironspider #spideriron

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carryonmywaywardwriters · 5 years

Text

One Day At A Time - Jensen x Reader

A/N: It’s been a while. My days off were spent with writing rather than posting. Now? It’s time to catch up a bit. Have an edited version of a story I’d only just begun getting into before I’d left Tumblr at the beginning of the year. As always, feedback is incredible. And, I hope you all enjoy <3

PSA: I am NOT a minor friendly blog. If you are below 18, please come back when you’re older. I don’t want to lose my blog because you were too eager to grow up. If I discover you, I WILL block.

Also, this is NOT hate against Danneel. It’s a piece of fiction using real humans as the base. There will be NO negativity against her, the Ackles family, or anything tolerated here.

Upcoming Warnings: Widower!Jensen. Angst. Death. Grieving process. Upcoming smut. Age Gap. And more. Each chapter will be labeled accordingly.

Word Count: Roughly 3,700

“How's he holding up?” Genevieve Padalecki was an actual goddess as she sat across from you in the sunken living room. A loose, white tee paired with ripped jeans while resting on the navy blue couch. Even as drawn and tired as she appeared in that moment, beneath the LeMay hummingbird art, she was incredible. Somehow held mostly together even with the circumstances in front of her. You yearned for that kinda strength.

“He's been trying to smile... Laugh for the kids.” You answered quietly, not wanting to wake the napping children. Or, the resting widower. As if your voice could carry that far in the massive home. But, it was the first bit of real sleep any of them had gotten since the nightmare had begun. You wouldn't chance it. They needed all the rest that they could muster. “It's falling short...but he's trying.” Your own tired eyes met the red rimmed dark orbs in front of you. “How about you and Jared?” She shook her head, slowly. Her actress's facade crumbling all at once.

“God, I miss her.” The once smooth voice cracked as she fought back the tears. Finally giving into the grief a little. “So...so much...It hasn't even been two weeks, yet, Y/N.” She looked so broken. So defeated. “How am I supposed to survive the rest of my life without my best friend?”

You wanted to give an answer. Wanted to be able to tell her it got better. But, you couldn't. It'd be a lie. Nothing was better in a world without the sunny smile the Mrs. Ackles had bestowed, undoubtedly, every time you turned around.

“I ask myself that question almost every second of everyday.” Jensen's deep voice was ragged as he stood in the hallway. His hair was spiked from the tossing and turning he'd done while he'd tried to escape the reality of his new life. Your heart shattered again at the sight.

“Jens-”

“It's okay,” He was gruff, but not harsh as he cut Genevieve off. Too worn to even begin to try to be angry. His jeans and shirt were wrinkled. Beard untrimmed. Eyes red and glazed with grief. “We're going to be okay. Danneel...she'd want that.” If he said it enough, he might just believe it. “Kids still out?” You could only nod. A lump too large for words to pass rested in your throat.“Good.” His head bobbed with that. As if in a trance. “I'm gonna take a walk...head down to the lake.”

He didn't ask if anyone would watch them. That's what you were there for. His pockets were filled with his beefy hands, and then he was gone as quickly as he'd come.

“I don't know if I can stay here.” You uttered when he was out of hearing range; tossing your hand through your tangled hair. Somehow even more ragged from the brief interaction.

It was all too much. He needed assistance with the twins and J.J. You knew that. But, it was terrifying having to face the grieving process head on. To feel the weight of a love lost residing in the air. Having to stand up to it all while losing your friend in the process. Needing to try and fill the void that was left behind after the accident while holding an entire family together. Anyone would strain under that level of responsibility.

Running would be easier. That was a fact you couldn't seem to escape. It always had been. God knows you'd done it enough in your life. Everything inside of you begged you to take the chance. Flee. And yet...you hadn't quite gathered enough courage to actually try it. Leaving yourself in an odd sort of purgatory.

“He'll understand.” Gen didn't even bother to look back at you. Having latched onto an image of the deceased in the corner. A happy little number showing her and her children.

“Will he?” You didn't believe it. Not even a little. She wasn't there to see the worst of his grief. How alone he was. Your fingers ripped at a hangnail as you pondered over it all.

Jensen had lost his entire future. And with that? He'd lost his focus. The undying optimism he'd once held. His charming dash of humor. Maybe once, he'd have forgiven you walking away. But, not anymore. The kids, his job, and the brewery were overwhelming at the best of times. It was unmanageable even with the help, then. He needed you more than ever.

That's why you'd been hired, initially. To break up the load. Or, so Danneel had claimed. In reality? She'd held everything down just fine with a babysitter on the side. She'd just used it as an excuse to draw you in. Now? It was time to live up to the promise.

You were pulled out of your thoughts with a small sigh, “Even if he doesn't?” Your heart ached at the thought. “You have your own life, Y/N...it's your choice.” Her final words went straight to the point. Injuring you with the bluntness of it. “And if there's anything we learned from all this? Life is too short to fuck around with.”

With that, she took her leave. Needing to find some air. Get back into a head space to handle the other half of the grieving family she was returning to.

You craved the same escape. Instead, the twins appeared. Miniatures of their parents clad in Paw Patrol footie pajamas. Hair mused as they crawled into the comfort you could offer. Solemn, as if their young minds could fully grasp the idea of death. Hours later, JJ walked in the large wooden door. A deep frown etched onto the smooth lines of her face. Her bag dragging the ground as she and Jensen joined. The false cheer emitting from the booming voice only made the tension in the air increase. It was cloaking.

As the night went on, things grew worse. A tight hold on the back of your neck crept forward until your entire skull felt as if it was being crushed. Far from the first time. Zep didn't want the lasagna you'd made. His once ravenous appetite long gone. Justice Jay was trying to step up; telling him how he needed to eat. How her mom would have got him to, and that anyone who couldn't get the boy to wasn't trying hard enough. Arrow sat crying, too distraught to take even a bite.

Jensen had looked so damn lost while sitting in the tan backed kitchen bar-stool that you'd had no choice but to pull out a whistle. Danneel had used it during a girl scouts meeting months before. And then had brought it back around any time the family got to be too chaotic. Another brilliant idea from the lost soul.

Zep settled for a small, microwavable macaroni and cheese that had been reserved for emergencies. J.J was talked down, gently. Not taking away from her grief; simply bringing her back to a softer place. Arrow was able to eat on your lap; settling into the comfort of a woman's touch gladly. The widower watched in a daze. Being the only one in the room you hadn't needed to fix. Until you noticed that he wasn't eating. Leaving you to discard your plate even longer while you coaxed him into following his kids' lead.

Bed time didn't come nearly fast enough. Dishes with two toddlers flinging soapy water across the designer kitchen. Another night of fighting over homework with Justice. All you wanted to do was crawl into bed and never leave.

With a weary sigh, you left the room Arrow occupied to herself. Moving down the stairs as fast as you could to give yourself some distance. Slamming your hand through your hair all the while. Not sure how much longer you could go on, taking care of everyone. You never had time to process. To breathe. God, how you wanted to breathe again.

Your back pressed against the wall after you hit the main floor. Utter relief filling your veins at the lack of noise. Slouching, you turned to look out at the darkened lake. Hoping the peace of it would trail to you. Only to shoot straight up seconds later as footsteps lumbered down the stairs.

“Thanks,” Jensen appeared, looking worse for the wear. Before you could even think to start, he continued, “Seriously, thanks. I don't...I don't know what I'd do...” His throat worked as emotion threatened to spill over. “I know we're a lot.” That was the understatement of the century.

“Jensen-”

“Don't try n' down play it, Y/N.” He kept going. As if he had no choice. Almost as if he could feel your desperation to run, and was trying to stop it. “We're a wreck, right now. But, you? You make...make it a little less chaotic.” His eyes were watery as he talked. The dam threatening to spill over. Guilt snaked through you at the words. And then he pulled out the last batch of words you wanted to hear. “You're a lot like her. You know that?”

“I don't want to...to take her place,” Your words were garbled as you swallowed the emotion. Terrified that you'd be trapped into the empty space she left behind. Breaking all the while. “I don't...I don't want to just step into the role.” Your own eyes watered as you aired your fears. Gasping for some kind of air. “I don't know how...how to play mom full time. Or step in as the pretend wife of a TV star. I can't even take care of myself. That's why she brought me here.” The emotional fall had been doomed to show up, eventually. You simply hadn't expected it to be so soon. Or so in his face. But, that didn't stop the tirade of emotion leaving your lips. “I want her back, too. I want her to walk...walk back through the door, like every time she's left. To thank me for looking out for you guys... T..tell me how strong I was for holding down the fort... until she got back.”

Because that's the kind of woman she was. She'd loved her family. Her friends. Her careers. And most of all, life. She'd built everyone up. Having her gone had tore them all down.

A tear trailed down your face as you realized Jensen was openly crying. Silent as the water ran down both cheeks. Drop after drop as he fought back a sob. You comprehended then, the enormity of what you'd done.

“Y/N-”

“I'm sorry!” Cutting him off, you tried to find something to say. Anything else. But, words escaped you again. A gasp left your lips when he brought his hands up to your arms, but you didn't have a chance to pull away. He tugged you close. Breaking you further. His arms encompassed you as you both cried deeply. Letting out everything you'd held back since you'd gotten the call about the accident. “I'm...I'm s...so...s...sorry.” You hiccuped into his chest. No longer feeling the need to be strong. His own body shook as he tried to settle back down. “I'm...I'm such a...such a bitch.”

“You're a good friend.” He breathed out in a broken sigh when he could finally gain enough composure to take a step back. But, he didn't break the contact. Needing the sense of closeness as his world spun. “She would have been...she would have proud of you, you know.” You lost it again at that one. Thinking back to the day that had wrecked all of your lives.

Danneel had been going to the brewery. Just as she had everyday. She should have come back. She should have never have been found on the side of the road. A hit and run. The bastard who was guilty had yet to be found.

“I'm sorry,” You pulled away from his grasp completely that time. Wiping at your face clumsily. Snot plugged up your nose. Your cheeks were stained from the tears. “What I said...I didn't mean it.”

“You did.” Jensen stated easily, falling back onto the closest couch. His head resting in his hands. “That's okay, though.”

“It's not.” Your eyes landed on the image from the wedding that rested on the coffee table as you dropped beside him. It was the closest you two had been in the entire time you'd known each other. Picking it up, you looked closer. Basking in the bit of joy that still resided inside the walls of the home. “She was beautiful.” Your thumb stroked over the image. “And, funny. Smart as a whip.” You'd thought you were all dried out, but another piece of water made its way down your face. “It was hard to not fall in love with the energy she put out there.” Gen had said Danneel had been her best friend. She'd been yours, too. Even though you'd only held her in your life a short time. “She saved me from myself...did you know that?”

“Kinda,” He answered carefully. His own eyes drawn to the ten year old image. “She never gave me the full details.” He leaned in closer, the pad of his finger brushing away the small piece of dust that gathered in the corner. “She just told me that you needed help...and to pretend that she did.”

“That sounds like her,” You whispered, your lips tugging up in a lopsided smile. Thankful to the ghost in the room. “I'd been kicked out of my boyfriend's place. He got bored, or something. I really haven't figured out the 'why' if I'm being honest with myself. Can't even remember why I was with him.” Your hand came back up to wipe against your face as your mind trailed back. You'd lived down the road. Only for a week or two. A perfect stranger. Your bag had hit the grass as she walked by with the twins. A daily stroll turned into more. She'd watched as you stared at the door in disbelief after it slammed shut. “She asked me if I was okay. I lied and said I was...she didn't believe me.”

“She's...She was good at that.” He caught himself trying to keep her in the present. You didn't bring attention to it. Didn't want to hurt him anymore than you already had.

“Dee didn't think twice. Packed me up and took me to a motel. Took my phone number to check in...” If you tried hard enough, you could still remember her holding out her phone. A simple smile on her face as she waited for you to do as told. Knowing you'd cave. You hadn't expected her to really call. Had been oddly relieved when she had. “I had trouble finding work, so she offered a place at the brewery. I didn't know how to take that kind of an offer.”

“Now that you mention it...” His head dropped to the back of the couch as he got more comfortable. Eyes closed as he traveled back in time mentally. “I remember that,” He looked a little lighter as he thought back to his wife. The frustrated call he'd received while on set about the woman who 'needed to come to terms' with Danneel's assistance. “The more you resisted, the more sure she was that she was going to help you out.”

“She used the twins.” Not that you'd complained. They were great. You'd spent hours making faces, drawing pictures, and the works with two of the sweetest children you'd ever met. “She was working on handling the paperwork, and asked me to play with them for a bit. Reeled me in like a fish.”

It had started with one day, with food as your payment. Then, it was for a few hours daily for food and some cash. Next thing you knew, you were in a small guesthouse they'd added to property. It had been the beginning of the best six months of your life. Helping with the kids, the brewery, and animals. You'd gotten a side job, but your notice had gone in as soon as you'd been able to. Jensen had needed all the help he could get with Danneel gone.

“Do you regret it?”

“She gave me a whole new life,” You sighed out, not quite answering the question. Looking at the animated face that rested in the frame. “And instead of being able to hold up? I break in half of a month...” Shame coursed through you.

“To be fair,” His voice was scratchy, “we're all a bit broken right now, Y/N...” No truer words had been spoken.

“What do we do, Jensen?” Your head rested against the back of the couch as he took the frame. Wishing like hell he could travel back to the day encased in ink, you were sure.

“We take it one day at a time,” It's all he knew how to do. Nothing else made sense. It was all too unpredictable. “It's hiatus...We don't have to worry about the show, for a few months. For now?” He tapped the glass, “For now, I'm going to take care of her babies.” The determined, pained note in his voice made your chest ache. “I know that I haven't been helping much-”

“Don't...” Letting him tear himself down wasn't something you could stand. “You're doing better than anyone would dream.” Your hand reached over and squeezed his. Offering a bit of comfort. Not knowing how else to handle it all. “Take care of yourself, too...Eat. Try to sleep. Take your time to clear your head.”

“You could stand to do that, yourself, Y/N...” He swallowed tightly. His own guilt raising its head. He'd been so stuck inside his own mind that he'd missed all the warning signs. How slow you moved. Raw pain lining your features. All of it amplified by how long it had been ignored. “Go... get some sleep. We can start looking for someone else to take over, tomorrow...if that's what you really want.”

With that, he led himself to his room. Leaving you to rest on the couch. Trying to decide if that's what you really needed.

–

“Morning, sleepy,” You whisked the batter. Working to get it as smooth as you could. Zeppelin rubbed his eyes deeply. The green dinosaur pajamas seemed shorter than they'd been the night before. He was growing fast. He'd need more soon. “Blueberries in your pancakes?” A tired nod was your answer as Arrow trailed behind in her favorite Elsa covered nightgown. “Chocolate chips?” Another sleepy, head bob followed. Justice Jay wasn't quite as easy. She was filled with seven year old independence. Ignoring the clothes you'd set out the night before in a way that only a strong headed child could. Instead, donning herself in a purple top with yellow leggings. Her hair, all but the back, brushed neatly. “Strawberries?”

“I can do it,” Her eyes turned up to look into yours. Demanding independence. After all, she was woman of the house, now.

You simply nodded, handing over a bowl of batter and the strawberries she wanted. They were pre-cut. All she had to do is mix the two together. You even let her flip them; feeling more than generous. It was the weekend, after all. And she needed to feel in control of something. Her mood increased slowly, but surely. Maybe I'm onto something...

“Smells good,” Jensen's lips smacked as he walked into the room, as you served up the first round of food.

His casual clothes were less wrinkled than the day before. He seemed more alert. Less like a bottle waiting to explode. The crying, despite how much everyone hated it, was good at clearing some of the pain. At least, enough to make everyone semi-functional.

“Good,” You gestured as you poured a bit of batter from each bowl onto the griddle. “Eat.”

“What about you?” His brows snapped together.

Gone was the mess he'd witnessed the night before. Mostly. The bags still rested beneath your eyes- something he hadn't noticed until tears had caught on them. However, he couldn't help but to zero in on every detail.

“I'll eat in a minute. I'm almost done.” The spatula waved his way. Killing any hope of him taking over. “Now, you eat.”

“Yes, ma'am,” He grumbled, sitting down with his children. Muttering about you being a bully to earn little giggles.

Slowly their personalities began emerging for what felt like the first time in forever. Zep was making zooming noises as he splashed his plane shaped- or as close to it as you could replicate- pancake into his syrup. Arrow was humming to herself, kicking her feet. Spreading more than enough butter across her crown shaped breaded breakfast- princesses were her current favorite thing. Dark hair bouncing on her head as she moved. Little J. Bird was telling her daddy about the animals they'd seen on their school outing the day before. And Jensen? He was enthralled. Giving her every bit of the attention she needed.

Your lips tugged up as you pictured Danneel watching over her family in the back. Her little content smile resting on her face as she looked at all of those she loved. She'd be leaning against the counter, ankles crossed with a headband holding back the hair that escaped her bun. Happy as a lark.

With a deep breath, you walked over to the table with the second plate to ensure that everyone got their helpings. When Jensen's eyes met yours again, he mouthed 'thank you'. You sent back a 'you're welcome' quietly before turning back to Zeppelin as he let out a mini roar, seeking the attention on him. In that moment, you understood. You weren't going anywhere...

Part Two

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