#just listen carefully he really told a lot of wise truths | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

p-artsypants · 4 years

Text

Integrity (Part 7)

“It’s just a one or two shot,” she said. “Nothing very long.”

She lied. She lied lied lied.

This chapter goes fast because I didn’t want to write it.

FF.net | Ao3

—

“So, how was school today?” Asked Tom. The family was gathered around the little table in the kitchen, Adrien and Marinette sitting next to each other. Sabine had made quiche, remembering that Adrien had greatly enjoyed it. So far, they were sticking to small talk, trying to avoid the inevitable reveal. It had to be natural, of course. “Mom said it was a little rough. You’re still having trouble with that Lila girl?”

“Maybe,” Marinette said as she finished her bite of quiche. “Miss Bustier had us air our grievances like adults. She said she wanted to avoid rumors and gossip, so Lila, Adrien, and I all got to state our sides of the story. And then Chloe and Nino backed us up.”

“So, did it get solved?” Asked Sabine.

“We don’t know,” Answered Adrien. “We didn’t stick around. There was a lot of shouting from the classroom, so…we’re just going to let our classmates decide for themselves.”

Tom gave both of them a surprised glance. “That’s a bold move! Are you sure?”

“You can’t force someone to believe you,” said Marinette wisely. “I know from experience.”

Sabine reached over and patted her hand. “Well, I’m proud of you. You’re learning this lesson very early in life. It does get better as you get older, but some people never outgrow petty behavior like lying. But the older you get, the more dangerous it is to lie. It has bigger consequences for those who it affects, and when you get caught.” She finished with a broad smile. “I’m glad I raised a daughter that’s above lying.”

Marinette smiled at her, before the look fell. She couldn’t have asked for a better opening, but she just wished it hadn’t made her feel so guilty. “Actually maman, papa…there’s something I need to tell you. Something we both need to tell you.”

This was it. The moment of truth. Of course, Marinette trusted her parents, and she knew they’d take it well, but she had just been hiding it for so long…

“I wanted to tell you from day one. It killed me that I couldn’t. It was for your safety, you know?”

“Honey, what are you talking about?” Sabine frowned, concern etching wrinkles around her eyes.

“Just…don’t get mad?”

Tom and Sabine shared a look. “We’ll try.”

Marinette exhaled, and reached over to take Adrien’s hand. “Together?”

“Of course.” He smiled.

“Okay…Tikki, spots on.”

“Plagg, Claws out.”

The bright flash forced Tom and Sabine to look away, and when they looked back, their daughter and her classmate were replaced with the Heroes of Paris.

Silence. It felt like minutes ticked by, as they just sat in silence. Both parents wracked their eyes over the teens, taking in every detail, making every piece fit in their minds.

Marinette held her breath, as Adrien squeezed her hand.

“All this time…? It was you…? Both of you?” Sabine looked absolutely horrified, as she remembered over and over, these two children taking fatal hits and falls, fighting on rooftops and cars, facing off with guns and swords.

Her baby, on the front lines of a magical war.

Marinette nodded, tears starting to form in her eyes.

Suddenly, Tom was laughing. Not just a chuckle. A full on, rattle the windows, fist pounding on the table, absolute uncontrollable laugh attack.

It startled everyone.

“What’s gotten into you, Tom?”

“When did you—“ more laughter. “When did you find out about each other? I have to know!”

Confused, and a little unsettled, Marinette answered, “Um…he found out yesterday, and he told me today.”

That just incited more laughter, as Tom actually fell out of his chair and landed on the floor.

“Papa…?”

“I’m—I’m sorry, cupcake!” He tried to get a hold of himself as he kept giggling. “It’s not—It’s not that funny—!”

The other three just shared nervous glances. Did their reveal drive Tom to insanity?

“Were—“ He wiped a tear from his eye. “Weredad! Breakfast!” He took a deep breath and tried to calm down. “I’m just thinking about that one time Marinette confessed to being in love with Chat Noir, and then he said he had to turn her down for Ladybug. But I knew Marinette had a crush on Adrien! And I got akumatized over that! That’s hilarious!”

Both of the heroes blushed. “Papa…” Said Ladybug.

“No, no you’re right, that was an emotional day for everyone.” He held a straight face for about three seconds before he burst into giggles again.

Although Adrien and Marinette were actually dating now, it didn’t ease the embarrassment for either of them, and they both blushed.

But his laughter did break the tension in the room, and Marinette was able to take a steady breath.

“Now Tom,” Sabine chastised. “Leave the kids alone. I’m sure they had a good reason for hiding their identities from each other.”

“We did. We had to keep each other safe. If one of us fell under control of an Akuma, Hawkmoth could use that to get our identities.”

Tom’s laughter finally subsided as he got off the floor. “I’m sorry, cupcake. I didn’t mean to embarrass you. It was just—you got yourselves in such a pickle!” He retook his seat, and put his head in his hands. “Okay, now that that’s out in the open…is there a wedding in the future?”

Sabine smacked his arm. “Tom!”

“What! You know I’m a huge romantic! And an even bigger Ladynoir fan!”

“What happened to Marichat?” Asked Marinette with a wiry smile.

“Old news. So…?”

“Well sir,” Chat began, a dusting of pink on his cheeks. “I’d like to formally ask you for permission to date your daughter—“

“Yes! Of course! Absolutely!”

“—But,” Chat interrupted right back. “There’s something else we need to tell you before you make your decision.”

“We’re listening,” said Sabine, resting a hand on her overly excited husband. “Take your time.”

“Well,” began Ladybug carefully, “we’re revealing ourselves to you now because it’s safe. You’re the first civilians to know. And you’re the first civilians to know that Hawkmoth has been defeated. Chat took his and Mayura’s Miraculous.”

Absolute joy and pride nearly burst out of both of the parents, as their smiles grew and their eyes sparkled. But before they could celebrate, Chat Noir elaborated, “It’s because of that that I’m here. My...my father is, or was, Hawkmoth. He was suspicious of me, so I had to leave.”

All that joy was snuffed out in a second, and Marinette swore she could hear her parent’s hearts breaking.

A clattering of chairs and Chat Noir was embraced with two pairs of arms.

“You’re a part of our family, Adrien,” Sabine assured. “You will always have a place here with us. It’s going to be okay.”

He didn’t cry when his father had revealed himself. He didn’t shed a single tear because of the shock. But all of the subsequent actions had built up, and now in the arms of the Dupain-Chengs, Adrien felt himself beginning to break down.

“We got you, Kitty.” Marinette promised, the flash of light signaling her transformation.

“Plagg, Claws In.”

The suit faded, and all at once, Adrien let loose his tears of frustration and betrayal. Just a few tears being squeezed out of him by Marinette’s family.

“Thank you.” He choked. “Thank you so much.”

“Of course, kiddo.” Sabine cupped his cheek. “You’re a great kid, and we owe Chat Noir a lot. We want you to be happy, and safe.”

“Marinette is extremely lucky to have you as parents.”

“Oh no,” Tom disagreed. “We’re horrendously annoying and nosy!”

“Papa...” Marinette warned.

“But cupcake! You knew when you got a boyfriend I was going to hound him relentlessly! Don’t act so surprised!”

Sabine patted her husband. “Oh leave them alone Tom. I think we’ve all had a very stressful day. Let’s cool down with a movie, hmm?”

“Actually...there’s still more.”

“More?!” Both Tom and Sabine shouted.

“It’s not as bad as the last bit,” Marinette waved her hands around. “Well...I guess that’s debatable. We need to go to Tibet.”

“Tibet?” Parroted Sabine. “Why on earth would you need to go there?”

“The Guardians of the Miraculous live there in a temple. Adrien and I...well, we learned why Gabriel did what he did.”

“My mother,” Adrien explained. “She’s still alive. She’s in a coma from using a broken Miraculous. He hoped that using our Miraculous would wake her up, but...”

“It’s really risky.” Marinette continued. “We just want to see if the guardians have a better idea.”

“I see.” Sabine breathed. “Where’s Gabriel now? Did you not call the police on him?”

“No.” Adrien shook his head. “We took his Miraculous. He’s not able to hurt anyone anymore. And if we revive Mrs. Agreste, he won’t have a reason to either.”

Tom and Sabine shared a skeptical look. “Are you sure? I know you’re Ladybug and Chat Noir, but...shouldn’t he face judgement for his crimes?”

“I’m being selfish.” Adrien said softly. “I don’t want to lose my father. If I get back my mother, maybe he’ll be back to who he used to be, and we can be a family again.”

“Oh honey,” Sabine cooed, wrapping her arms around him. “It might not happen that way.”

“I know…but it’s worth a try, right?”

Sabine wrung her hands. “But Tibet is just so far! Plane tickets would be expensive—“

“We’re not flying. The Horse Miraculous allows the user to make a portal to any location. We’ll go and be back on Sunday night.”

Sabine frowned. “It sounds like you’re telling, and not asking.”

Marinette gave an uneasy smile. “This is official superhero business. I thought it would be better if we told you?”

Sabine sighed. “Yeah, I suppose it would be. If I can’t stop you, at least I can make sure you’re safe. When do you leave?”

“First thing in the morning. Tibet is six hours ahead of us, so it wouldn’t make sense to leave tonight.”

“Alright, then make sure to pack everything you need for an overnight bag. Papa and I will make sure you have plenty of snacks to take with.”

Marinette smiled. “Thanks maman! The trip is instantaneous though, we don’t need any snacks.”

“Oh but you should offer your hosts some of our pastries! An offering of peace!”

Marinette smiled. “You’re right, of course. Thank you. Both of you. For being so cool.”

—

Later that night, Marinette was mostly asleep when Adrien’s voice pierced through the silence. “Are you still awake, My Lady?”

“Hmm-mmm.”

The floorboards groaned and then her mattress swayed as he climbed up onto her bed, leaning against the wall. “Sorry, I can’t sleep.”

She turned to face him. “I don’t blame you. Wanna talk about it?”

He laid down beside her, propping his head up on his arm. “I can’t really have my family back to normal, can I?”

“Do you want me to answer that honestly?”

“I want to be on the same page as you. You’re…you don’t have the same bias. You know what to do.”

Marinette held her breath, knowing this would be the breaking point. The same question had come back to her over and over too. So what was the right thing to do? Hurt him? Or brush off her duty as Ladybug?”

“He needs to face justice, Adrien.”

He hid his face in her shoulder and nodded. He knew what she would say. He knew what was right. He just didn’t want to believe it. It wasn’t fair.

It was fair, though. His father was a messed up, broken man who had done horrible things, no matter the reason, no matter how temporary. He had scars on his heart from that man that would take years to heal.

“I don’t want you to do that alone, but I don’t know if I can be with you when you turn him in.” He breathed, sobs just at the edge of his voice.

“Kitty, I would never expect you to turn in your own father.”

“But I want to support you. You have so much responsibility to shoulder being the guardian and—“

“Adrien,” she pushed his shoulder so he would look at her. “You single-handedly defeated Hawkmoth. Please, let me take care of the clean up.”

Hesitantly, Adrien nodded.

“But first, let's worry about your mom, okay? One step at a time.”

“Thank you, My Lady. I love you.”

“I love you too, My Prince.”

—

At the break of dawn, Marinette dawned the Horse Miraculous, and along with Chat Noir, departed to Tibet.

The temple was on top a mountain, and stepping from tepid France to frigid Tibet was a whiplash. The snow whipped around, and threatened to knock Marinette’s pastry box right out of her hands.

But they waded through the snow to reach the massive doors of the temple, and knocked.

The door slid open cautiously, a monk watching them with confusion.

“Hello,” Chat translated. “I’m Chat Noir, and this is my partner, Ladybug, or Pinto Rouge, we’re here to learn about the Miraculous.”

Pinto Rouge held up the box.

“We brought snacks!”

Still confused, the monk allowed them inside and instructed them to wait in a large lobby. The room was mostly bare, only decorated with the symbol of the Miraculous on the walls, and huge columns.

“Welcome,” another monk finally greeted. “How can we assist you?”

Both Pinto Rouge and Chat Noir bowed in greeting, offering the pastry box to the man.

“Tikki, Kalkki, divide.” Ladybug whispered, returning to her normal suit.

Chat Noir translated for her, “Pardon our intrusion. My name is Ladybug, and this is my partner, Chat Noir. I don’t actually speak Mandarin, so he’ll be translating for me.”

The monk nodded, indicating that he understood.

“We were picked to be wielders by Wang Fu, who trained me in succession to be a guardian. He was once a student here.”

The assembled guardians all reacted to the name, nodding, some chuckling.

“How is Wang Fu?” One man asked.

“They want to know about Master Fu.” Chat provided. Ladybug answered, and he translated. “He’s well. Unfortunately, he was compromised and named me as guardian, and then lost his memories. He lives with his wife in England now.”

“He must be quite old.”

“186, last I checked.”

“Well, despite not being chosen for our order by the council, you are still a guardian of the Miraculous, and you should be trained as every one is. Where do you hail from?”

“Paris, France.”

“All the way from Paris! Wang certainly fled as we asked. When can you start?”

“As much as I desire to start training as soon as possible, there is something we need help with first.”

They were beckoned into a meeting hall, and sat down among the order. Tea was served, and the pastries were divided up. Then they began the story from the beginning. How Hawkmoth appeared one day, and how they were bestowed Miraculous. How they fought together for over a year against him and Mayura. And then the day of the reveal, how Adrien had come to discover his own father was behind the whole thing, and that his mother was in a magical coma from a broken Miraculous. How that night, he stole the Miraculous and returned them to the Miracle Box.

“So you see, he doesn’t pose a threat to Paris anymore, but his wife, my mother, is still asleep. He wanted to use the Ladybug and Black Cat Miraculous together to wake her up.”

More nodding as their tale was considered, and then the conversed among themselves, speaking much too fast for Chat to translate completely.

“What are they saying?”

“Some of them are doubtful she can be healed, others are doubtful they can trust us.”

“Yikes.”

“Drop your transformations, as a show of good intentions.”

“They want us to de-transform, My Lady.”

“Oh, okay. No harm in that. Tikki, Spots off.”

“Plagg, Claws in.”

The Guardians seemed much more at ease after they took off the suits.

“I’m Marinette Dupain-Cheng.” She reintroduced.

“And I’m Adrien Agreste.”

“A pleasure.” The monk bowed. “Now, we have discussed what you have said. We will need to examine this woman, Emilie, and the broken Miraculous before knowing exactly what there is to do. Our last resort would be to use the Black Cat and Ladybug, but it is very risky, and works with equivalent exchange. If your father, Gabriel, really wishes to wake her up so badly, he must decide who he wants to give up in exchange. Whether it is another loved one, or himself. He will need to keep that thought in his mind.”

Adrien explained this all to Marinette, who frowned. “Would you be able to handle that? If he decided to take her place?”

Adrien was quiet for a moment, and then admitted, “I’d have to think about it…”

“You’ve both come so far, why don’t you stay the night? We can get in a little training tomorrow before you leave. Then you can return with Emilie when you can.”

“Thank you, Master. We’d love to stay.”

—

Sunday night came quickly with all the training that had taken place. Marinette was thankful she had brought a notebook, since the monks had taught her how to read the coded Grimoire. Adrien had, of course, been there to translate all of it, so he was also being trained as a guardian.

But now it was time to return to Paris, and time to confront Gabriel Agreste.

It could go either way. He could be responsive to help, or he could fight the whole time. It was absolutely unpredictable.

Chat Noir and Ladybug arrived at the mansion at sunset, waiting outside the gate, gathering courage.

“You still with me, kitty?”

“I feel like I’m going to puke.”

“I don’t doubt that. Do you want to come back later?”

He shook his head. “No, the longer we wait, the worse it’s going to be for me. I just…”

“You don’t need to explain yourself to me.” She offered him a smile. “You remember a few days ago? When I had my melt down?”

“Sure.”

“It was this feeling of hopelessness, of everything being completely out of control and the whole world resting on my shoulders. But you gave me control back. You gave me peace of mind. Now I’m here to do everything I can for you. You and me against the world, and you and me against your father.”

He clenched and unclenched his fists a few times before hugging her. Just soaking in her warmth for a while and letting her strength flow into him.

He could do this.

He had to do this.

“Let’s go.”

She rang the doorbell.

The camera came out, spotted them, and the gate opened without a word.

“Out of the frying pan, and into the fire.” Chat muttered to himself.

“He doesn’t have a Miraculous, we’re stronger than him.” She reminded him gently.

He scoffed. “I’m not afraid of him hurting me physically.” The rest went unsaid.

Gabriel opened the door as they approached, then beckoned them inside. He was quiet, reserved, and looked tired. He had bags under his eyes, unkempt hair, and a shadow of a beard on his face.

“Ladybug, Chat Noir, please come in.”

“Your secretary have the day off?” Ladybug asked conversationally.

“Nathalie and the rest of my house staff will be taking an...extended vacation.”

Chat tried to not let his disappointment show, but he had assumed Gabriel would fire anyone he was suspicious of. He just didn’t think that included Nathalie.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Ladybug smiled as pleasantly as she could, like she was talking to any other civilian. “We’re here to help.”

“Ah, with what, exactly?”

“Please show us your wife, Monsieur Agreste.”

Gabriel’s almost pleasant attitude evaporated into something akin to anger. “He told you then? My son ran his mouth?” He sneered.

“Something like that.”

“You have Nooroo now?”

“And Dusuu too, yes.”

“So what now? Have you come to gloat? To beat me up anyways? I’ve already lost everything, what more could you take from me?”

“We’re not here to take anything,” Chat said. “We want to give back.”

“We might have a way to save your wife.”

The tightness Gabriel held began to subside. His fists unclenched, his brow smoothed, and the deep set frown relaxed into open mouthed awe. “You...want to help me save her?”

“Purely for selfish reasons on my end,” Ladybug explained. “If your reason for hurting others is removed, you’re not a threat anymore, right?”

He inhaled, his breath shuddering as he did so. “I never wanted to hurt anyone. This went on for so long, and I kept telling myself that I would quit, that it wasn’t worth it...then I would see an opportunity, and get so close again. I was obsessed, Ladybug. Can’t you see?”

“The powers of the Miraculous can be addicting. Knowing that you were so close to being with your wife again...I don’t blame you.”

Then Gabriel did something they were not expecting.

He started to cry.

“I don’t deserve this. I don’t deserve your help.”

“You don’t.” Chat confirmed. “But your wife and son do.”

“My son hates me. He’ll never speak to me again. And I can’t blame him for it. And my wife...once she knows what I did...this wasn’t worth it. I ruined everything.”

“Mr. Agreste,” Ladybug spoke calmly, as he started to spiral out of control. “Let me see your wife.”

Gabriel collected himself and turned from them, heading to the office.

Ladybug and Chat Noir shared a look. Villain or not, Gabriel Agreste was not well, and he severely needed help. Maybe not even help they could give him.

They followed him into his office, and up to the painting Chat had seen the other night. He typed in the code, and then they were descending in an elevator into a huge cavern.

At the end of a bridge, there was a garden, filled with flowers and swathes of butterflies.

In the middle of it all, was a glass coffin.

It might have been beautiful if it wasn’t so horrid.

Ladybug reached out to take Chat’s hand, holding it in comfort as they walked down the bridge.

“She was using the Peacock Miraculous,” Gabriel explained. “It’s broken. It hurt her, made her sick. By time we figured out what was wrong, it was too late. She had...she had fallen asleep.”

Chat wanted to yell at him to shut up. He had heard the whole pitiful story before, but he just found himself as silent in shock as the first time.

“I have the grimoire too. There was a page on combining the Ladybug and Black Cat miraculous to create an amazing power, capable of granting any wish. Nooroo confirmed that it worked.”

“We talked to the guardians about it. Yes, it would work, but not without equivalent exchange. To wake up your wife, someone else would have to take her place, perhaps you, perhaps your son. There’s no way of knowing.”

“I could have—“ his words got caught in his throat as he fell to sit on the grass. “I could have killed Adrien. I was so concerned with bringing her back, I didn’t even think…” He pulled on his tie, ripping it away from his neck. “What have I done? What have I done?”

“Will you let us take her to Tibet? To see the Guardians?”

“My poor Adrien…I could have lost him. What did I do? I tore apart his room! I hit him! I’d never—“ He moaned as he rocked back and forth.

Ladybug looked at Chat. “Do you want to tell him?” She asked so softly.

“Tell me what?” Asked Gabriel, looking up desperately. “What else is there? What do I have to do? Is Adrien safe? Did you talk to him? Will you talk to him?”

Chat took a calming breath, trying not to lose it at the sight of his insane father. Then he spoke, “Plagg, Claws in.”

Gabriel looked away at the green flash, and when he turned, his tears started again in earnest.

“I lied to you, Father.” Adrien began, before he lost courage. “I’m the one that betrayed you. I had my kwami take your miraculous while you slept. I do want to save mom, but I had a feeling combining the Miraculous wasn’t going to work. So I went to Ladybug. She’s smart and she always has an answer. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner, you just…you scared me. You’re still scaring me. I trust that you only had good things in mind but…you’ve changed. You need help, father.”

Gabriel clamored to his feet, finding shaky steps towards his son.

Ladybug stood at the ready, in case he became violent.

Gabriel collapsed on Adrien, hugging him and crying and begging for forgiveness over and over. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry…”

It wasn’t what he had in mind, but he’d take any affection he could get from the man. He hugged him back.

“We’re going to find a way to save her. You don’t have to do this alone anymore.”

“It’s all my fault. I ruin everything…I’ve hurt you so badly.” He pulled away from the hug to hold his face, squishing his cheeks slightly. “I’m so proud of you…”

Pride. Adrien never thought he’d be worthy of his father’s pride. All his life, he had done everything right, and only now, after he had betrayed him and gone behind his back, at the reveal of fighting against him after all this time. Now he’s proud.

It was kind of a kick in the pants.

“Father…”

“You knew when to ask for help, when I didn’t. You knew I couldn’t handle this. You did the right thing…I told you before, that you were a good kid, and you’ll be a great man. I mean it. Adrien…”

And then Adrien understood what was happening. It wasn’t immediately apparent, but with his father’s face so close, he finally figured it out.

“You’re drunk.”

Gabriel started to sob again, grabbing hold of Adrien’s shirt and sliding to his knees. “I didn’t know what to do. I thought I had to say goodbye. I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Are you really? Or are you just drunk?”

“Don’t leave me Adrien...please, son. I love you.”

Adrien grabbed his hands and pulled, trying to wretch him free from where he was clamped. “Why did it take alcohol to get you to say it?”

“Because I’m awful...I’m worthless, I ruin everything I touch. Everything I did was a waste! I couldn’t save her! Hundreds and thousands and millions of people were hurt because of me! How can I live with that?”

“Adrien,” Ladybug began. “I think we should continue this conversation when he’s sober.”

“No!” Gabriel protested. “Take her! Take her to Tibet and save her! Give Adrien back his mother! Please I beg you!”

“Then what will happen to you?” Adrien asked, looking down on the blubbering mess that was once his indomitable father.

“I’m going to turn myself in. I’ll live with guilt the rest of my life, but let me have some relief! Let me face judgement.” He collapsed onto his hands and knees, bowing at the feet of his son. “Let me earn your trust. Let me earn your forgiveness. Please.”

They spent a long time in silence, Adrien coming to terms with what had to happen.

“My lady,” he finally said. “The Horse Miraculous?”

She handed over the glasses.

“Plagg, Claws out.” In a flash, Chat Noir stood there, and stepped away from Gabriel over to the glass coffin. “Plagg, Kalikki, unify.” Dawning both Miraculous, Belle Noir easily opened the coffin.

“Be careful with her! Please, I beg you Adrien! She’s done nothing wrong.”

“I will be careful,” he spoke calmly, as he reached his arms behind her shoulders and knees.

“Ladybug. Please escort my father to the police. I’ll take care of my mother.”

“Of course, Chat.”

“I’ll find you when I’m ready.”

“Stay safe.”

He only offered a nod of agreement, before summoning his voyage and disappearing into nothing.

#integrity #ml #miraculous ladybug #ladybug #chat noir #ladynoir #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #adrinette #fanfiction #hawkmoth defeat

75 notes · View notes

365days365movies · 3 years

Text

March 8, 2021: The Thief of Bagdad (1940) (Part One)

ARABIAN NIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHTS

Aladdin is actually the first film I ever saw in theaters, according to my Mom, and I do adore this movie. In case you’re wondering, I thought the remake was...OK. Not great, not terrible, but...not bad, y’know? But yeah, I love this movie, even if it’s not exactly the most accurate to the original story of Aladdin presented in The Book of One Thousand and One Nights.

Interestingly enough, though, this movie instead takes from a much more recent, much newer source for a lot of its inspiration. And this is going to begin a chronologically-ordered foray into cinematic fantasy. So, back to 1940, in a time period where fantasy films began to explode in popularity, thanks to one film that came one year before.

Yup. The Wizard of Oz, considered one of the greatest films of all time, is still a classic that holds up today, as well as being arguably the most high-profile fantasy film in all of film history. But a year later, Hungarian-British film director Alexander Korda came out with an often-forgotten film: The Thief of Bagdad. Which was ACTUALLY a remake of a silent film from 1924!

But I’m going with the 1940 British film instead! And honestly, I’m excited enough to just get started here! SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap (1/2)

Before I get into all of this, I think I need to say this at the jump: this is a film from 1940. Most of the main actors are White. Yeah. Duh. Not ALL of the are, but the two love interests definitely are, alongside the villain. And NONE of the actors are from the region that the film takes place in, except for possibly the extras. So, yeah, thought I should bring that up before anything else. ANYWAY

A ship pulls into port somewhere in ancient Arabia, and before we start here...I can’t even SLIGHTLY comment on the authenticity of this film, costume wise. But in the meantime, I can at least enjoy the color of this film, which are beautifully bright and technicolor.

A mysterious man has come into port, seeking a sleeping princess and a blind beggar. I won’t say the name of the traveler yet, as I don’t know it from the film itself as of yet. He and a young woman named Halima (Mary Morris) go into town to find the blind man, named Ahmad (John Justin).

Speaking for the mysterious traveler, Halima invites Ahmad to a palace, alongside his trusty dog, Abu (a good boy). At said palace, a princess is afflicted with a ceaseless sleep. The man would appear to be an advisor of some kind, and also does not know how to end her sleep. She is apparently in love with the blind beggar.

Said blind beggar is being attended to by many maidens, and to them (and the advisor), he tells a story of his dog’s past life, a street thief also named Abu (Sabu), who’s stealing food, pursued by a group of angry salesman and citizens. He parkours away from them all, keeping one jump ahead of the bread line.

There will be MANY Disney puns, I’m warning you now.

From a rooftop, he sees the young Sultan of the kingdom, Ahmad’s past life, named...Ahmad. He is accompanied by his Grand Vizier: Jaffar (Conrad Veidt). Yup. Really. Also, he’s the same guy playing the advisor from earlier, meaning that this is also HIS past life. Neat!

Like a Vizier do, Jaffar whispers in Ahmad’s ear, trying to get him to do less-than-great things in order to show his power. Ahmad, however, is a kind man, who wishes to show such kindness to his citizens. He goes into the city that night, with Jaffar’s encouragement, in order to discover more about his people. He begins this by listening to a sermon, prophesying that the tyrant Ahmad will fall to Allah’s will. Awkward.

Not that it’s about to matter, since Jaffar tells his men to arrest Ahmad, as he’s now dressed as a citizen, and to claim that he’s a madman if he claims to be the Sultan. It works, and Jaffar is crowned Sultan as Ahmad is thrown in prison. It’s there that Ahmad meets Abu, who’s also been arrested. A madman and a thief.

The two plot to escape from the jail, and Ahmad learns that he’s presumed dead by the populus. After Ahmad realizes that Ahmad’s not mad, but the actual Sultan, they decide to flee to the kingdom of Basra by travelling down the river for three days. Time for a cruise!

We skip ahead quickly to the glorious city of Basra, which is...impressive. It’s genuinely gorgeous, and it was filmed in...THIS ENTIRE THING IS A SET? HOLY SHIT!!! That is legit impressive, goddamn. In Basra, Abu trains Ahmad in the way of subtle thievery and trickery, and they learn of the Sultan of Basra, who has the world’s largest collection of toys, like a proper nerd. He guards his toys more carefully...than he guards his daughter. Well, OK!

Speaking of the Sultan’s Daughter, a commotion clears the marketplace in order to clear a way for a procession, at the center of which is the beautiful Sultan’s daughter, Jasmine. No, not really. But considering that she’s only credited as The Princess (June Duprez)...I’ll be referring to her as Jade.

Attended to by Harlem Renaissance legend...the Singer (Adelaide Hall, who is one of the big figures from the early days of jazz), Jade would appear to be a somewhat bored young women, disaffected by her upper-class life. So, yeah, Jasmine. And Ahmad is, of course, wildly in love with her at first sight.

Ahmad has to see her again, and when Abu notes that they have tickets on a ship helmed by Sinbad the Sailor (trying to set up a 1001 Nights Cinematic Universe, nice), Ahmad insists that he has to see Jade again. Abu agrees, and helps him get into the palace garden.

There, he pretends to be a genie in a pond, using reflections while he hides in a tree. She falls for it (somehow), and he just simps all over her. She notes that she’s come to the pond to bathe, and he notes that he’s paid good money for his OnlyFans subscription, and wants some of that sweet, sweet bathwater. Which sounds like a semi-topical humorous exaggeration, but is BASICALLY THE TRUTH I SWEAR

He reveals himself to be a real live simp, and she responds by IMMEDIATELY kissing him. Goddamn, they’re fuckin’ perfect for each other. They agree, but her father will not be pleased. Still, they pledge to see each other again. Which pisses off Abu, because now he can’t go on that trip and set up this film franchise. He agrees to stay with Ahmad to help him get Jade.

Which is gonna be WAY goddamn harder, since Basra has a new visitor in the form of the usurper, Jaffar. He’s come to meet with the Sultan of Basra (Miles Malleson), a man who is absolutely obsessed with toys, big ol’ nerd that he is. Which, again, is SUPER used in Aladdin. To win over the Sultan’s favor, Jaffar brings in a mechanical horse. And that horse can FUCKING FLY WHAT THE SHIT

And this is when the GF (she says hello) informs me that this is ANOTHER REFERENCE to One Thousand and One Nights! Apparently, there’s a flying mechanical horse called the Ebony Horse, given to a King! It really IS a 1001CU! But back to the original story, and the Sultan WANTS the goddamn horse. In exchange, Jaffar wants only one thing: his daughter. And he immediately agrees.

She ain’t havin’ that shit, and she tells one of her handmaidens to find Ahmad in the garden, and tell him to meet her in Samarkand (another reference!), where she flees to avoid the forced wedding to Jaffar. However, that message doesn’t get to Ahmad soon enough, and he’s arrested in the garden by the palace guards, along with Ahmad.

Overjoyed to finally be able to stab the EVER-LOVING FUCK out of Jaffar, he tries to tell the truth to the Sultan. However, Jaffar uses his magic to...make Ahmad blind. Abu tries to tell the truth instead, only to be...turned into a dog. Wait...it’s not past lives? THEY’RE LITERALLY THE PRINCE AND ABU? Abu is a FUCKING DOG? Damn.

Back in the present day, Ahmad finishes his story, where the maidens tell him of Jade’s fate: she was caught by slave traders and brought back to Basra, where she quickly fell into a trance that she hasn’t awakened from. Although, she apparently still talks in her sleep about the Genie of the Pool.

They take him to see her, and she IMMEDIATELY wakes the fuck up! The two embrace, reunited at last, only for that reunion to be interrupted by Halima, sent by Jaffar to “end the masquerade”. That can’t be good. She takes Ahmad away under false pretenses, and she’s told that she can cure his lost sight by seeing a doctor. Ahmad leaves Abu with her, for protection.

However, this whole thing was just to get Ahmad to wake Jade up, so they could kidnap her and put her on a ship back to Basra. He throws Abu overboard (MOTHERFU-), and goes to speak with the Princess. As she notes that she was roised a cure to Ahmad’s blindness, he claims that the second the two of them embrace, Ahmad will see again. Damn...dude really wants a hug, huh?

AND IT WORKS! Not only is Ahmad able to see again, but Abu is a human again, as both of their curses are broken by a fucking hug. Um...somebody hug this man. Goddamn. The Hays Code is STRONG with this one, holy shit. And it’s ESPECIALLY weird, because Jaffar literally admits that he could MAKE her love him, but wants her true love instead. Um...fuckin’ YIKES, buddy.

As she runs away, he pursues her outside, and they look out to see that they’re being followed in a boat by Ahmad and Abu. And then Jaffar pulls an Elmer Fudd, and goes “NOWTH WINS BWOW”, and summons a storm after the two on the sea.

GREAT place to pause, I think! See you soon, in Part Two!

11 notes · View notes

neo-culture-mafia · 4 years

Text

[23:44PM] (Based on Arrow 2x23) — It’s not a very wise decision to drag someone away from computers with FBI technology when this someone is the only person inside the whole mafia who can deal and work with such technology. And it gets even crazier when the city where you live is right in the middle of the chaos caused by a war between two mafias.

“Taeyong, what are we doing here? The whole city is falling apart.” you question after Taeyong closes the door of your old basis that the mafia has decided to abandon some weeks ago after it got compromised during the war.

“I know.” he exhales, walking you further in the room. “You need to stay here.”

“What?! An explanation would be nice, you know? You can’t just ask me to--”

“I’m not asking.” Taeyong firmly states, finally looking at your eyes. “I will come and get you when this is all over.” he says as he turns his back on you and starts to walk away.

It almost looks like he doesn’t know you enough to know that the next thing you would do in a situation like this is stopping him from leaving.

“No! Okay, let me stop you right there.” you hold his arm, forcing him to look at you again. “You should hear yourself, you sound insane right now! We all have to be ready to fight against Slade, you can’t just lock me in here!”

“Y/N…” he warns you.

“I won’t stay, not unless you tell me why.” you insist, and by that, he finally takes a deep breath which tells you that you’ve made your point.

“I need you to be safe.” he answers, knowing that answer wouldn’t be enough.

“Well, I didn’t start helping you out because I wanted to be safe. I don’t want to be safe. I want to be with you… and the others, unsafe and fighting for our city!” you exclaim.

“I can’t let that happen.” he addresses in a calm tone.

“Taeyong.” you gently grab his wrist, still not getting why he would drag you away from your responsibilities when the city is literally burning to ashes. “You’re not making any sense.”

“Slade took my ex because he wants to kill the woman I love.” Taeyong starts to explain, still in a quiet volume.

“I know, so?” you insist.

“So he took the wrong woman.” he points out.

And by that words, the head of the mafia knows he’s just achieved what he needs to fool Slade, his enemy, who’s probably listening to the whole conversation through his not so hidden cameras. But the next words that will leave his mouth are not difficult to say because they aren’t true, they are difficult because Lee Taeyong, the man underneath the black leather jacket full of hidden knives and guns, knows that he will never be able to admit those words to himself again without putting you in danger. He treasures you way too much to put your life at risk. He may have lost a lot of people until now, people who died because of him, but his heart would never heal if he lost you.

“I love you.”

Those three words were never so difficult to say before. It kills him to know that you can never know how serious he is about this, even though it’s just part of the plan at the moment, a plan that you don’t know yet. But he rathers you hating him forever for apparently “playing” with your feelings than to let you know the truth he hides even from himself.

“Do you understand?” he asks as he quickly hands you the syringe knowing that the blind spot of Slade’s cameras wouldn’t get any view on that. He has his eyes on you, but if he could choose, he would look anywhere else but you. He knows how disappointed you would feel.

“Yes.” you quietly murmur, not daring to move a muscle that isn’t related to your arm that is gathering all the strength you have left after that literal punch on your feelings to hide that syringe inside your pocket.

By the disappointed look on your face when you realize the plan, he knows he won’t ever be able to forgive himself. However, as he starts to walk away from you, he deep down hopes you can feel by those words how much it hurts him to leave you behind knowing that Slade is much likely coming to get you and how much it kills him to know that he would never be able to come clean about how he meant every single letter from those 3 words.

“What are you doing here?” Taeyong asks after taking a few steps away from the basis where you are now, waiting to be taken.

“Witnessing my older brother destroy his well-deserved chance of being happy.” his sister appears from the shadows of that dark place, staring at his face.

“How much have you heard?” he questions, closing his eyes for a few seconds knowing that he screwed up.

“Enough to know you’re making a terrible mistake. Why are you doing this, Tae?” she asks, approaching him carefully with a hard-to-read-expression on her face.

“Practical reasons. She’s not like you and me, she doesn’t know how to fight, so when I confront Slade after we take down almost all of his men, he’ll have his guard down around her and won’t even expect her to do something like that. In conclusion, he passes out because of the medicine inside of it, giving us enough time to end this without killing him and creating a bigger problem with other mafias.” Taeyong explains in a robotic tone, almost as he had already thought about that question before. “He won’t have a chance to hurt her, don’t worry.”

“I'm not worried about that, I know we can protect her even under that kind of circumstances. Listen to me, I was the first one to call you out when you appeared on the door of our basis with a bullet next to your chest in the car of Y/N, remember? I told you that it was too dangerous to tell someone about us, even though you had no other option since we had entirely lost contact during that mission and you could’ve died without her help. And I remember pretty vividly that I almost freaked out when you appeared with her again a month later saying that she was the only person in the city who could crack that FBI code and help us discover what information our enemies were looking for on those computers.”

“We all know she’s an I.T genius, get to the point.” Taeyong impatiently says, not looking at her in the eye.

“The point is, big brother: she’ll hate you for the rest of her life thinking that you played her here when you didn’t.” she completes.

“What are you talking about?” he frowns.

“I’m talking about how you didn’t lie about a word back there.” she declares, with a small smile appearing on her face after seeing Taeyong’s face twist in surprise as a response. “Try not to look so shocked, I’m your little sister, I know you better than anyone else.”

“I’d rather her to hate me forever than her to find out about that. You are my sister, you’ve been back for a year since Mark found you and you’re literally the person who’s been in the most danger since then. What do you think they would do to her if I assume that I love her for real? Our enemies would never stop going after her.” he explains, finally staring at her eyes again, searching for any sign that she understands what he means.

“I know you’re just trying to keep her safe, but all of us in Neo Culture have your back. We’re a family and I’m pretty sure that if you ever assume her, we will have her back as well. Taeyong, you could’ve chosen anyone, you could even have told her about this plan before, but do you know why you didn’t? Because you didn’t want to lose the only chance you think you have to tell her how you really feel and by that: Tonight it’s the first day I believe you have ever acted selfishly. And you know there is no space for selfishness when your life and the life of others you love are at stake all the time. Just think about this.” she taps on his shoulder, giving him a warm smile before she walks away, getting ready to inform all the others about the boss’ plan.

#admin💫#well surprise??? i guess #im surprising even jaz with this lol #JAZ I LOVE U #ill contact you soon bby #taeyong soft hours #taeyong angst #taeyong drabbles #nct mafia au #nct taeyong #nct 127 taeyong #nct blurbs #taeyong blurbs #nct u taeyong #superm taeyong #taeyong #lee taeyong

157 notes · View notes

thorin-is-a-cuddler · 3 years

Text

Getting to know them

A/N: Alright, I love The Old Guard and ofc I adore the messy one the most: Booker 💗 I wanted to write something slightly shippy for him and Andy, so it‘s definitely suggested in this One Shot. :) Nile asks the gang a question: what is your weakness? I‘m sorry, I can‘t do the „keep reading“ thing

Nile looked around with curious eyes, scanning each and every single member of Andromache’s so called army. All of them were male. All of them seemed a little mysterious and suspicious to her. Except for Nicky with his gentle smile. And Joe, too. Basically the only really suspicious looking person at the table was Booker.

There was a milky fog in his eyes that seperated him from the rest.

Nicky and Joe gave off a warm, welcoming aura that was too honest to be anything but real. There was the sharp piercing coldness in Andy’s eyes that was scary at first, but eventually appeared to Nile as the natural look of someone who had been alive for ages and eons - and had seen horrors beyond imagination. But in Booker’s eyes there was nothing readable or analyzable going on. Sure, there was a certain amount of sadness and possibly tiredness visible in that milky fog. Apart from that nothing really invited Nile to look closer.

He was friendly enough. But he also seemed the most reserved among the group.

What Nile did notice was a short lively flicker in his gaze when Andy entered the room with a new bottle of Scotch. He straightened out his back and seemed a lot more attentive all of a sudden. Nile wasn’t capable of telling whether the outlook on more booze or the sight of Andy herself was causing that slightly more vivid reaction. It definitely caught her interest.

Especially since Andy’s attention upon entering the room was directed at Booker first. It was short and seemed like an uncontrollable impulse on her side. But both of their faces were grazed with a short blink-and-you-miss-it smile when their eyes met. Almost timid.

Nile turned her head to check Nicky’s and Joe’s possible reactions to this quiet exchange between their „boss“ and colleague (?). But the two of them were pretty busy with staring into each other’s eyes. Nile was close to rolling her eyes. Please, someone assure her that she didn’t stumble into a group of immortal lovey-dovey couples.

She crossed her arms and leaned back in her chair. Her mother would have called her posture „sulking“, but none of the people in the room were aware of that luckily. „So.“ She sternly said, raising everyone’s attention towards her.

Andromache took the seat next to Booker - aha, suspicious enough - and put the bottle down on the table in front of her. She raised her brows and had another silent exchange with her neighbor who was smirking pretty obviously now.

„So.“ He repeated, crossed his arms and sat back, eyeing her with what could have been called challenging, but most likely was a mix of slightly drunk and generally tired. She was seated next to him on the far end of the table and had a good look on everyone. They all seemed very eager to hear what she had to say.

„I feel I have quite the disadvantage in this group of ours.“ Nile almost stumbled over the word „ours“. It didn’t feel natural on the tip of her tongue yet.

„Why’s that?“ Nicky asked, listening attentively with a kind look in his eyes. He reminded her of her brother which was why she quickly had to look away. She gulped and tried not hold her own hand too tightly.

„I don’t mean to be rude, but since you all are so much older than I am and have known each other for so much longer, I feel like I should get to know a few things about you all.“ Nervously Nile bit down on her bottom-lip, before she concluded with: „We are going to sleep in the same room after all.“

Booker unexpectedly started to laugh after that last sentence. He had a deep voice that made his laughter sound very pleasant. They all seemed to have nice laughs, though, which Nile could convince herself of in that specific moment as they all joined in on Booker’s low chuckles. Nile blushed against her will - as blushes tended to happen - and gritted her teeth. But no one looked at her with ill intend. They all seemed to get where she was coming from.

She relaxed a little, when Andy nodded at her with a smile. „Of course, you can ask us whatever you want.“

„Ah,“ Joe interrupted and gave Nile a meaningful look, „everything above waistline.“

Nicky scrunched up his face at that and made a slightly put-off noise as he closed his hand around Joe’s atop of his armrest. Joe laughed as Andy and Booker made similar grossed put noises. Andy additionally decided to throw a napkin in his direction. It was all in good humor and Nile couldn’t help but let a small smile appear on her features.

„Ask away, Nile,“ Nicky encouraged her and pushed Joe’s shoulder with his own to make his giggles die.

Nile looked at every single one of them and leaned in closer. „Okay, since we are making ourselves very vulnerable in this constellation, the question that first comes to mind is: what are your weaknesses?“

Again everyone’s similar reaction was to groan. Except for Joe who was still giggling just the littlest bit. Despite that big wave of nope, Nicky was the first and quickest to answer: „Joe. That is not a hard question for me.“

Booker rolled his eyes, as Joe’s giggles stopped altogether and he turned his head to look at his lover with devotion and fondness. Andy didn’t look at them, but she was smiling.

„I hope it does not count for less, because I am saying it second. But for me it is Nicky. Nothing is certain. And my world, my life revolves around him.“ Nicky extended his hand in response and touched Joe’s face with his fingertips, gently moving them down his cheek. Joe leaned in closer to steal a soft and tender kiss from his lover. For Nile this characterized the two of them as deeply loyal and overwhelmingly in love. It was hard to imagine how deep their love for each other truly was. Since it must have rooted deep, deeply into the earth, closer to the core than any love before had ever reached.

Andy raised her voice and matter-of-factly said: „My weakness is baklavas.“

Booker squeezed his eyes shut and started laughing again, shaking his head and grumbling: „That’s not fair.“

„It’s the truth though.“ Andy held against his claim with a smirk, pulling something out of her jeans pocket and unfolding it in front of Nile’s eyes. Nile could see that the wrapping paper had contained a little dessert. Andy held it close to her nose and inhaled. She smiled. „Mhhh.“ Carefully she wrapped it up again, storing it back in the pocket next to her knee. She glanced up at Nile. „I’m not sharing this with you ever.“

Nicky and Joe laughed at that and somehow seemed to have gotten even closer to each other than before. Nile was really looking forward to sharing a room with them…

„Which leads us to you, Booker.“ Nicky pointed out, making a movement with his hand in the blond man’s direction.

„Yes, Booker, what is your weakness?“ Andy asked with a sort of flashy smile, moving a bit closer to the man in the chair next to her who was cluelessly raising his arms and shrugged.

„Uhm… well… maybe the booze?“ He asked, toasting to Nile and downing his drink, looking at the others for approval. Which he didn’t get. Andy shook her head vehemently and seemed very focused on him now. Nile watched the two of them like a movie. They seemed comfortable around each other in a way that was similar to Nicky and Joe - at least potential-wise.

„No, that doesn’t count. That’s just a terribly bad habit.“ Andy told him and put his glass out of reach to allow him no refill.

„Ah, pardon, but the baklava counts?“ Booker exclaimed, pushing Andy’s shoulder and meaning to grab for his glass again, which was easily pushed even further out of his reach by the leader of the group.

She grinned and put her hand against his chest to keep him from getting up. „Baklavas are basically art and I doubt that can be said about Scotch.“

„Oh, I am ready to defend the arts of Scotch, Boss. I believe I even studied them back in the day of-“ Booker’s ironical soliloquy was stopped abruptly during the tame wrestling fight against Andy when the formerly worshipped godess shoved her hands under his arms and started tickling.

Nile’s mouth opened in awe, as Booker immediately crumbled on his chair, trying to defend himself with his elbows close to his ribs and his body twisted uncomfortably. His eyes were squeezed shut, the tip of his tongue was poking out between his teeth and the smile he wore was one of utmost joy. It suited him impossibly well and Nile was shocked to see the difference between his formerly displayed smiles opposed to this one. He hadn’t made a sound up until that point, as silent laughter had taken over his bodily functions. This changed though when Andy pulled at one of his elbows to get more vulnerable space to her attack.

„NONONONO!!“ Booker shrieked, in the husky voice of a man who didn’t usually laugh that outgoingly. His deep giggles had a desperate ring to them, an out-of-breath undertone that was absolutely contagious and forced Nile to grin at the chaotic pair.

Joe and Nicky were looking at them with similar looks on their faces. It seemed very affectionate. Obviously it wasn’t the first time that this situation occurred.

„STOP STOP STOP!! NOHO PLEASE AHAHNDY!!“ Booker started kicking a bit too violently, meeting the table with his shoe and making it shake vibrantly, leading to Nile’s drink falling over.

„See, that is a weakness, Booker,“ Andy stated as she reduced the mysterious man to a snorting, giggling, wheezing mess in his chair with skillful fingertips and a steady knowledge of his most ticklish areas.

Nile couldn’t stop grinning, as Nicky and Joe made it their job to save the rest of the food and drinks on the table by placing them on a table further to the back. This only seemed to make the new option of tilting Booker’s chair available to Andy and in no time they were rolling onto the floor, with Booker eagerly trying to rob away on his back and Andy very eager to keep him from doing just that. Booker’s laughter was getting a hysterical notion to it when Andy came close to him again, threatening him with more vicious, unbearable tickles which really seemed to be his number one weakness from what Nile could tell.

„Wait wait wait wait WAIT!!“ Booker barked out as he extended his hands in front of his body in order to defend himself against Andromache the Scythian. A very adorable tactic really. And one Andy herself wasn’t necessarily impressed with. With a big smile she quickly latched on to Booker’s sides again, despite his struggle to keep her away.

And Booker was an instant mess. Andy’s thumbs wiggled into his hips, making Booker’s entire body buck up and shake with the unbearable feeling this attack sent through his nerve ends all the way up to his brains. He was wheezing with laughter and couldn’t get away from Andy’s tickling fingers working their way up his stomach and ribs as if his defenses were a joke to her. „THIS ISN’T FAHAIR!!“ The poor man squealed as his cheeks started to blush from the effort of laughing this incessantly.

„No, it isn’t,“ Andy agreed with fake sympathy before she started wiggling her fingers into a spot below Booker’s armpits that made his laughter kick up a notch, „but it’s fun.“

Nile watched with amusement as Booker was reduced to a giggling pile on the floor and Andy was having the time of her life turning him into it. They both seemed to be rather comfortable in their position. Even Booker didn’t exactly fight for his life to get out of the tickle hell Andy was putting him through. When Andy’s fingertips were scribbling up Booker’s chest, nearing his neck, he started fighting a bit more, giggling a pitch higher than before and actually starting to beg. „NONONO PLEASE NO, I GIVE UP, I GIHIVE UP!! AHAHANDY STOP IT!!“

„Oh, alright, alright, I’m stopping, I am.“ Andy quit her ticklish attack with a sombre smile on her lips, moving her hands away and holding them up innocently. Booker was wheezing on the floor, folding his arms over his chest and shaking his head at his boss, as little giggles kept pouring out of him.

„No more,“ he huffed, a smile on his face, as Andy started laughing at him, seemingly enchanted by his defeated, weak little self. „No more, Andy.“

„I think Nile got an answer to her question.“ Andy calmed him down and affectionately rubbed his arms which he did react to by relaxing more. With an imploring, cheeky look she fixed his eyes and added: „I think she also understood that you don’t exactly mind this little weakness of yours.“

„What!!“ Andy grinned at Nile as she got off of Booker.

„Your other questions might just have to wait until tomorrow.“ She said and winked at her, before walking over to where Nicky and Joe had retreated in the big room.

„Are you implying that I like this?“ Booker turned on his stomach and yelled after her, trying to grab for Andy’s heels, but failing. With a loud sigh he allowed himself to roll over on his back again. He looked at Nile out of the corner of his eye. „I do not like this. Not at all.“

Nile nodded completely convinced and felt a wave of affection flood her stomach when Booker closed his eyes and started snoring. In that very moment he didn’t seem suspicious in the least. She took this as her cue to join the others at the east side of their room as well. Of their shared room.

Ours.

The word didn’t sound that threatening anymore all of a sudden.

#tickling #the old guard #the old guard fanfic #ticklish!booker #andy x booker #fanfic #ticklish #tickle fic #tog #andromache the scythian #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #sebastien le livre #nile freeman

7 notes · View notes

angsty-nerd · 3 years

Text

So… I was thinking about RNM… as one does… and I realized that a line in 3x01 reminded me of something…

Heath says to Liz, regarding her leaking their research: “Genoryx owns your computer, your phone, your apartment building and your I.P., so if it's you, you're toast.”

It suddenly occurred to me why it was familiar. Because I wrote it. Or something very similar to it. Back in 2002 ish, in one of my OG fics, future Liz is working for a sketchy laboratory that sets her up real good, but it comes with a catch, and the catch is surveillance. Lots of it. Which now has me speculating something similar from Genoryx and/or Deep Sky. Rosa did mention alien resurrection when they face timed in the apartment in 3x01…

Here…have some examples from my fic 😆

From Ch 16…

“I can’t believe it took you this long to call me!” Maria ranted as she rushed inside. “You’ve been here for…what? A whole day? And I’m just now seeing you? That’s just not right! You had better be prepared to make it up to me big time!” Maria turned and in a quick glance took in the lushly decorated apartment around her. “Hey, this is a pretty nice place!”

“Yeah, blackmail…” Liz muttered under her breath as she followed Maria around the apartment, giving her best friend a chance to explore. Maria reached the bedroom and arched an eyebrow at the sight of the massive pillow-covered king sized bed.

“All right chica, what’s your secret?” Maria demanded, turning to Liz with her hands on her hips in annoyance. “I could never in a million years afford all of this stuff, and I’ve been working full time since I was, like, fifteen!”

Liz held up her hands in surrender. “It’s not me! I swear! It’s my new job’s doing.” She spit out the words distastefully while the two friends made their way back to the main room. “They’re trying to show me what a valuable commodity I am to them.”

“And that’s a bad thing?” Maria raised her eyebrow at her friend with disbelief. “You’re living in luxury, girl!”

Liz sighed, slumping back down into the huge armchair in defeat. “Oh God, Maria.” Liz cried, raking a frustrated hand through her hair. “I’ve had the worst day! This job is absolutely nothing like I expected it to be.”

“Oh sweetie!” Maria exclaimed as she noticed Liz’s exhausted, ragged appearance for the first time. Maria ran across the room towards Liz, pulling her into a tight hug. “I’m here for you, girlfriend! Tell me everything.”

Liz gave Maria a relieved smile. She knew for a fact that this was exactly what she needed…to let loose all the tension inside of her and get a second opinion on the situation from her friend. Maybe with a little perspective she could figure out how to proceed when she went back to work in the morning. Not to even mention she needed advice on how to act around Max in the meantime. She didn’t need another disaster like her jumpiness in the hallway earlier that evening.

“Well…” Liz started, only to be immediately cut off by the shrill ringing of the telephone. She rolled her eyes at the interruption, and pushed herself back to her feet. “I’ll be right back.” She grinned at her friend, padding lazily across the room to pick up the phone.

“Hello?” She asked, turning her back on Maria to take the call.

“It would be wise of you to keep your mouth shut, Ms. Parker.”

The cold, lifeless voice on the other end of the line sent a chill running down Liz’s spine, and the smile slid right off of her face. She paled as the voice continued.

“You wouldn’t want someone to find out things they shouldn’t know about. It might initiate certain unexpected accidents to remove unwanted factors into our project.”

Fear surged up inside of Liz as she realized what they were suggesting. She berated herself at her own stupidity. They had everyone she knew under surveillance twenty-four hours a day…of course they would be watching her just as closely, if not more closely. She glanced around the room for a moment, trying to spot cameras or other hidden security equipment that she might have missed before. Of course, none of it was visible to the naked eye.

“Say something, Ms. Parker. Your friend is going to get suspicious.” The voice warned her in a threatening tone.

Thinking quickly so not to raise Maria’s suspicions, Liz began to ramble a response. “Yes, this is (505) 648-2697, but I’m sorry, there’s nobody by that name here.”

“That’s right, Ms. Parker, just pretend you don’t know who it is. Everything is totally normal here. And remember…watch your mouth if you value your friend’s life.”

And in Ch 17 the next morning…

“Good, you’re on time. Have a seat, Ms. Parker.” He gestured dismissively at the empty chair opposite him. “I’ll be with you in a moment.”

“Bullshit, you won’t be with me in a moment.” Liz swore angrily at him. “You’re going to talk to me right now!”

Dr. Thompson raised an eyebrow in surprise at her passionate order, and calmly set down his reading. “Very well, then. What do you want to talk about?”

“My legal rights.” Liz stated firmly. “You have no right…no right whatsoever …to bug my apartment! What are you doing? Watching and listening to everything I say and do? Haven’t you people ever heard of privacy?”

“Liz…first of all, it’s not your apartment. It’s our apartment. You willingly walked into there yourself. If we want to install security equipment in our own facility, then that’s our choice…just as it was your choice to sign a contract with us before you even visited our facility. Do you remember that contract, Liz? You agreed to all of this.”

The blood drained from Liz’s face as she realized that all he said was true. His point was only accentuated as he opened his file drawer and pulled out a copy of that very same contract that he spoke of, sliding it across the desk towards her.

“Take this, Liz. Read it again. See what you agreed to. You can’t break this contract now.”

Bile rose in Liz’s throat at the sight of the words before her. Statements that initially seemed to be cloudy and obscure now made perfect sense. She felt completely moronic for agreeing to anything before she knew the reality behind the lab’s projects and procedures.

In short…she was completely trapped.

Aaaand, chapter 24 after shit hits the fan….

“Max, the people we’re up against here will stop at nothing to get to you.”

”Do they know what I am?”

Liz stared at him for a long moment before responding. Her heart went out to him at that moment. He asked her in a soft, nervous voice, his question hanging out in the air with the knowledge that he knew his life depended on the answer. He was scared, but trying desperately not to show it. Liz knew this was at least one answer she could try to comfort him on, even if it still wasn’t the best possible situation.

“They don’t know that you’re an alien.” Liz answered carefully. “But they do know that you can do things that most people can’t do.”

“How did you get involved with these people, Liz?” He wondered.

Liz sighed. She sank down beside Max on the bed, and stared down at her feet, not quite able to meet his eyes as she told him the truth.

“I work for them.” She explained. She fell silent for a moment as she collected her thoughts and tried to decide how to go about explaining her involvement with the Brown Institute. “When I look back at it now, the whole situation was really weird, but I didn’t think twice about it at the time. It just seemed like a great opportunity. They contacted me directly, right when I was starting to look for a new job. The head of the lab, Dr. Thompson, e-mailed me directly and offered me a position doing hands-on lab research if I came back to New Mexico. It was hard to refuse. The job sounded like it was exactly what I was looking for, and coming home was a tempting offer after being away for so many years.”

“They tricked you.” Max interrupted. Liz turned to look at him, startled out of her nervousness by the anger in his voice. It was only accentuated by the look in his eyes now. They burned with a fire that startled Liz, even as he leaned towards her protectively, as if in that moment his presence could chase away the lingering demons in her world.

“Yeah, they did.” Liz replied. “They didn’t tell me what the job entailed until after I arrived in Roswell…and moved into their apartment, and started driving their car, all of which were wired with surveillance equipment. Only then did they sit me down and tell me flat out what they wanted me to do for them.”

“They wanted you to get close to me.”

“Exactly.” Liz confirmed his statement. “They wanted me to get close enough to you to find out how it was that you’re capable of healing people with a touch…they had surveillance of you healing some children in a hospital. They wanted me to find out the truth, and then turn you in to them. My prize would have been to be a part of the group that would study you. If I didn’t do everything they asked me to do, they would kill my family and friends.”

PS, the whole thing is on AO3 here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20479655/chapters/48595892

#og roswell #max&liz #liz ortecho #liz parker #rnm season 3 #my fanfic archives #rnm speculation #long post

4 notes · View notes

that-sarcastic-slytherin · 4 years

Text

Help Me Forget - Part 2

Steve Rogers x reader x Tony Stark

@rororo06

- - -

“Why?”

Steve’s voice was unnervingly calm as he spoke, a burning intensity in his blue eyes, creating a foreign shield of hardness.

Riffling through his untidy pile of papers, searching for his notes on the latest project he and Bruce were working on, Tony barely forced himself to glance the Captain’s way.

It was clear that he wasn’t the slightest bit interested in what he had to say, and it only served to fuel Steve’s frustration.

“Why?” He repeated, his voice holding an increasing firmness.

Tony moved around the lab to access his tablet, wearing a faint smirk. “Why what?”

“Don’t. Just don’t.”

“Okay, so you’re not a fan of the whole hard to get thing, huh?” Tony quipped, allowing his smirk to grow more prominent. He earned a sharp glare in return. “Well, you’re asking me why, and I’m asking; why not?”

Steve stared at the man in disbelief, his patience thinning by the second.

“How can you stand there and say that?”

“It’s relatively easy.”

A loud scoff of derision emitted from Steve, shaking his head with a smile, in which there was no trace of humour.

“Always have a witty comment on hand, don’t you Stark?”

“Well, I do try,” he replied, swiping his finger across the screen of his tablet.

Steve’s fist clenched at his side. “This isn’t a joke.”

He then peered at Tony with a scrutinising gaze, anger and betrayal woven heavily into his piercing features.

“I always knew you had a thing for her.”

Feigning ignorance to irritate him further, Tony replied, “who?”

“Y/N.”

The sound of your name brushing past Steve’s lips, left him with a bitter taste in his mouth, his heart clenching with pain.

“Oh, right.” Tony visibly perked up. “Yeah, I suppose you could say we are now...better acquainted.”

A sudden, loud crashing noise rang out around the laboratory, causing Tony to rip his attention away from his work, and whip around, to be met with the sight of a collection of test tubes smashed on the floor, with Steve standing over them, glaring angrily.

“Don’t even go there, Stark.” He warned, through slightly gritted teeth. “How could you do this to me? How could either of you do this?!”

Tony didn’t say anything for a few moments, examining the Captain’s demeanour carefully, knowing that he was close to blowing up. He knew that Steve had not actually moved on with another girl, Wanda had filled him in on that little detail.

However, he found that he didn’t really care. Cap didn’t have the right to be angry, not at him and certainly not at you. Not after the way he had treated you these past months, then having the audacity to flip out like he was, as if he hadn’t even hurt you in the beginning.

Instead of uttering the answers that Steve so desperately wanted to hear, Tony headed for the closest exit, not wanting to bother continuing the conversation.

However, Steve wasn’t going to let him get away with it so easily. He caught him by the arm firmly, preventing him from going any further.

“Tell me why-”

Yet, he didn’t get the chance to finish, for Tony roughly shoved his arm away, pulling out of his grip.

“Stop!” Barked Tony, matching the other man’s steely glare. “I don’t need to explain or justify anything to you, and neither does Y/N!”

“Yes, you do!” Steve retorted sharply, squaring up him. “You can explain to me why you thought it was okay to-to do...”

Steve paused as he struggled for the right way to phrase it, disgust and embarrassment creeping up at the awful picture. “To do...that...with my girl!”

“But she’s not your girl, is she?” Tony countered, with an air of smugness. “Not anymore.”

Steve bit the inside of his cheek as he was greeted with that painful reminder. “My relationship with Y/N is none of your business.”

Tony scoffed out a small laugh. “None of my business...”

He brushed past Steve, moving to lean against one of the desks, clutching the rim of the table tightly, his own anger increasing considerably at the statement.

“No, you’re right, it’s none of my business,” he agreed, but his tone betrayed the deception of his words.

“Just like how it was none of my business when I found Y/N crying in her room one day, in the middle of a panic attack, overwhelmed with emotion, because you had just broken her heart!”

Steve’s eyes visibly widened in alarm. He didn’t speak. He couldn’t.

Tony took his shocked silence as an opportunity to finally vent his true feelings about how the solider had treated you, all what he had done.

“Did you know that she used to have nightmares?”

“...What...?” Steve uttered quietly.

“After the attack,” Tony started, making Steve wince as he recalled the haunting memory.

“Y/N suffered night terrors. She got them nearly every night. I used to arrive in her room to find her petrified, swimming in her own sweat and tears.”

Steve’s eyes glossed over. He could feel his own heart breaking at the devastating realisation of how much pain you had been in, and the fact that he had not been there to help you through it.

“I-I...she never told me...”

Tony scoffed abruptly, taking a few steps closer. “How could she have? You refused to go near her. She would be lucky if you even stayed in the same room for more than two seconds.”

“It was too hard!” Steve shouted desperately, trying to get him to understand.

“And what about Y/N? Did you think it would be easy for her?”

Tony got nearer with each word, enabling Steve to see the burning defence and anger raging in his dark eyes.

“I remember when she would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, traumatised, trembling with fear- whispering your name- all she wanted was you to be there- to comfort her and hold her- but where were you?! Where were you when she needed you?!”

Steve struggled to conceal his hurt as he listened to the horrifying truth of your situation. A situation he had put you in. His heart felt as though it was drowning in a mist of sorrows.

The last thing he had wanted to do was hurt you, but it seemed that that’s precisely what he ended up doing.

Tony noticed his shining irises and the way his jaw clenched, but he was too fulled to stop now. He needed Cap to know just how much you had been through. He needed him to understand.

“You were nowhere in sight! You made sure to keep away. The bottom line is; I was the one who ran into her room when I heard her screams. I was the one who whispered soothing words into her ears. I was the one who held her as she cried herself to sleep!”

“Enough, Stark!” Cried Steve. He couldn’t hear anymore.

“I was there for her when you weren’t! You did what was easiest for you. Not her.”

- - -

It had been three days since you had seen Steve in that restaurant. Three days since you had mistakenly thought he had cast you away. And three days since you had made one the biggest mistakes of your life.

As you sat on your bed, staring out of the large windows, your mind flooded with all thoughts of anger and deep regret. Anger at yourself for what you had done. If only you hadn’t of jumped to conclusions so hastily, if you had just confronted Steve and talked to him about it first...

But, no. Of course, you didn’t do any of that. That would have been the wise and sensible thing to do. Instead, being the idiot you are, you had to deal with it in the worst way possible.

The picture of pain on Steve’s face when he realised what you had done...you couldn’t get it out of your head. The way he had looked at you...with such betrayal...such disappointment.

It brought such a deep sadness to your heart. And it was something that you never wanted to experience again.

In a sudden surge of frustration, you leapt up and grabbed the closest object to you, which happened to be one of your shoes, and hurled it at the wall, letting out a shout of anguish as you did so.

As you ran a hand through your hair, gripping at the individual strands tightly, a knock sounded on your bedroom door.

“What?” You called, your tone suggesting that you were not welcome to visitors.

However, the person ignored your off-putting attitude and pushed the door open, revealing the curious face of Natasha on the other side.

You glanced her way but didn’t speak, waiting to see what she wanted. You hoped it wasn’t to climb through the vents to prank Clint again, you weren’t in the mood for it.

“So, I guess you’re still pretty upset about the Steve and Tony thing?” She mused lightly, walking further in the room.

Your annoyed glare gave her the answer.

“I heard them arguing yesterday,” she informed, “sounded pretty heated.”

You huffed in frustration at the thought that you had driven some kind of wedge in between them. It didn’t take much for them to clash, but they were still best friends.

This fact only made you feel even more guilty.

Natasha observed you carefully, her years of training had made her an expert in assessing and discerning people’s emotions, and despite all your guarded walls, you were no exception.

“You shouldn’t be too hard on yourself,” she told you, making you look at incredulously. “You made a mistake. You weren't thinking and you acted on your emotions. It’s not unheard of.”

You shook your head in denial, refusing to make light of it.

“That mistake has cost me any chance of Steve and I ever getting back together. I hurt him, Nat. You should have seen his face, he looked so broken...”

Natasha didn’t and couldn’t deny that what you were saying was true, of course it would have wounded him, but she still thought that it wasn’t simply black and white. You had been through a lot, and she was there in the early days when you had to try and accept the fact that Steve was no longer a part of your personal life. She had been so worried about you, and she still was. She had done her fair share of trying to speak sense into the solider.

She walked closer to you and fixed you with a serious gaze. “Steve is crazy about you, Y/N, and he always will be. Your chance isn’t gone. But what he feels right now, is exactly what you were feeling when he ended things with you. I’m not saying that I want him to be in pain, at all, but maybe now he will know just how hurt you were.”

“Yes, but the difference is he didn’t go and...do-anything with you or Wanda! I went to Tony for solace.Tony!”

“Yeah, I don’t really know what you were thinking there...”

You caught Natasha’s smirk and sent her a small glare.

“This is serious, Nat. I just...I don’t know what to do...how to fix it...if it even can be fixed.”

“Y/N.” Natasha spoke firmly. “You’re not going to fix anything if you stay in here and wallow in self-pity and guilt.”

“I’m not wallowing,” you mumbled grumpily, making her smirk.

“If you want to put things right, then the only thing you need to do; is talk to Steve.”

- - -

After many, many hours of intense debating, you finally decided to take Natasha’s blunt advice and speak to Steve. It wasn’t going to be easy, you knew that, but it needed to be done.

You walked down the hall leading to the training room, having asked F.R.I.D.A.Y. about his whereabouts, and small butterflies fluttered around in your stomach, dreading the conversation that would soon ensue.

You rounded the corner to the entrance, finding Steve doing hits on one of the punching bags. It was obvious that he was delivering each hit with more strength than necessary, even for him.

Unsure of how to begin, warning you fingers together, you approached him slowly and somewhat cautiously.

“Are you still not talking to me?”

His face was obstructed from your view, but you could see the way his entire back suddenly tensed.

Instead of replying or even acknowledging your presence, Steve merely continued to punch the bag in front of him, but you noticed that his blows carried even more force.

You sighed and muttered, “I’m going to take that as a yes.”

You decided to move directly in front of him, thinking that he would be forced to at least register that you were there, but he didn’t even manage a glance your way.

Realising that he wasn’t going to give you his full attention, you chose to just start speaking, at least he would have to listen, it wasn’t like he could switch off his ears.

“Okay...I’ll just talk then.” You took a deep and shaky breath before continuing, trying to gather your thoughts and to say the right thing.

“I’m sorry,” you uttered, causing him to halt slightly in his next punch. “I want you to know that I am so, so sorry. I wasn’t thinking clearly-I-I never should have done it-”

“Then why did you?”

Steve finally ceased his movements and lifted his head to look at you properly.

“I don’t understand,” he confessed in voice of exasperation, “I don’t understand why you would do that. How you could...”

You tried your best to stay strong but his broken expression was making it incredibly difficult to keep it up.

“When I saw you in that restaurant, after all we had been through, I thought the worst. I thought that you had found someone else, and forgotten about me...”

Steve gazed at you in a mixture of hurt and frustration. “Forget? I could never forget about you, Y/N. Never.”

“It was in that moment, I thought that you had- that you had turned to someone new.”

Despite the sadness and insecurity that leaked out of your voice, Steve’s own anger at himself was bubbling at the surface. His discussion, or rather, argument, with Tony had left him feeling guilty and full of regret. Unfortunately, he poorly decided to deal with these emotions by taking it out on you, still very much hurt.

“If you think that I could do that,” he started, his voice quiet but firm. “If you think that I could do that to you, if you think that I could fall in love with anyone else; then you clearly don’t know me at all.”

As he picked up his gym bag, you moved in front of him quickly, desperate to make him realise, to make him see.

“Bu that’s what it looked like at the time!” You cried, your voice cracking. “I know I was wrong, I know that now, but you have to see it from my point of view!”

“And what view is that?”

You snatched the bag out of hands and shoved it to the floor, catching him by surprise.

“Do you know what these last months have been like for me?” You asked. “Do you even care?”

Steve wasted no time in replying, “of course I do.”

“I loved you, Steve! I loved you and I trusted you, and you broke my heart! It took me so long to finally let someone in again, and when I did, you left me!”

Steve’s heart clenched as he listened to your confessions. He finally realised. You had trusted him, despite the horrors of your past, and he let you down. He had broken that trust.

“When I woke up from that coma, I needed you there, Steve. I needed you there by my side, but instead, you were no where to be found!”

Steve winced as your words hit his ears, baring a painful similarity to what Tony had previously said.

Tears shone in your eyes, threatening to spill over as you cried, “you abandoned me!”

“No!” Steve denied loudly, the idea too agonising to entertain. “What I did, I did protect you!”

“Did you, Steve? Or were you protecting yourself?”

“That’s ridiculous.” He dismissed quickly.

“Is it? Then why did you run away and hide as if you were the one who had been injured? Because deep down, you were and still are.”

Steve gazed at you intensely, hanging onto every word, but fearful at your words that were digging into his heart.

You stood so close to him that your noses were nearly touching, allowing him to see every flame of emotion blazing in your eyes.

“You couldn’t stand that fact that Captain America didn’t have a perfect mission record, you didn’t achieve a 100% no casualty report. You were angry because you couldn’t play the hero and save me in time!”

“No! You’re wrong!” Steve shouted heatedly, but his eyes glittered as they stared back at you, vulnerability showing its full display. “You don’t even know what you’re saying!”

“Then tell me why, Steve!” You pleaded. “Tell me! Because you have given me nothing else to go on!”

Conflict illuminated in irises of blue, as he used all his strength no to crumble right there. No matter how much he wanted to tell you the truth, to tell you everything, how he felt, how he still loved you...he could not.

He would always be haunted by what he had caused, and now that he knew all the emotional pain he had inflicted upon you, he knew you were safer without him. You would be better off without him.

The hurt on your face only confirmed his thoughts.

He dug his nails into the palm of his hand before he spoke, knowing that he was about to do something that would grieve him for as long as he lived.

In a whisper, he uttered, “I can’t.”

“Steve-”

“I can’t.” He insisted more firmly. “Nothing more can ever be for us again. Too much has happened. We aren’t good for each other.”

He had to force himself to carry on as he looked at you, convincing himself that he was doing what was right for you.

“Steve, please don’t do this to me again,” you implored anxiously. “Don’t leave me again.”

Pushing down the stabbing pain in his heart, Steve uttered the final words that were to send you into another pit of anguish.

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

Without a further word, he picked up his bag and sent a last glance your way, as he tried to conceal his own tears.

He dragged himself away from you, each step feeling like an iron weight, leaving you standing there, feeling alone and helpless.

A single tear ran down your cheek as your chest began to jolt with silent sobs.

Unbeknownst to you, your conversation had been overheard, the monitors had recorded it and was sent to the controller’s screens.

Subsequently, this was why Tony suddenly appeared in the room, walking up to you with sad eyes.

You didn’t look at him. You kept your stare directed to the floor, boreing holes into it.

Wordlessly, Tony gently took you by the hands and wrapped his arms around you, encompassing you into a warm embrace.

You clutched onto his shirt in a tight grip, tears dripping down and soaking the cotton material in a salty avalanche.

Through your sniffles you managed to whisper, “I’ve lost him, Tony. I’ve lost him.”

In response, Tony held you closer, tighter, wishing he could magic your pain away.

He clenched his jaw and muttered under his breath, “Cap, you idiot.”

You stayed like that for a long while. Tears kept pouring out no matter how hard you willed them to stop.

You were overwhelmed with the agonising realisation that you were now left in the same dark hole again.

He had left you again. He had shut himself off again. He had distanced himself again.

By worst of all...

He had broken your heart all over again.

93 notes · View notes

natsukitakama · 4 years

Text

Headcanon : Being Marcus Pierce’s significant other (AU)

Author note : I had to confess Tom welling was my very first crush I watch the whole serie « Smallville » just because of him. So imagine how grateful I was when I saw him on Lucifer season 3. Looking even better than before.

This headcanon will be in another universe when Marcus decide to do everything to make you fall in love with him and fall in love with you eventually.

Warning : Fluff slight mention of NSFW (sorry not sorry)

Gif don’t belong to me credits to the owner

The plan was simple : Not being another Lieutenant’s fangirl like all of the girls at the precinct (Chloe, Ella we saw you)

At first it was easy the man was harsh, hell even a dick sometimes

You didn’t like the way he talked to Dan or Ella, or the way he looks at you were worthless.

You hated him

At least that’s what you thought

But Hey no one is perfect

After knowing Chloé won’t be his key to erased his cursed he thought it was over

And then realized that maybe some pure love could erase his cursed like Chloe tends to make Lucifer vulnerable

He first thought Chloe could be useful but she was really closed to Lucifer and this man won’t let him go further

Trust him : He already tried to let him alone on a desert as far from Chloe as possible

It didn’t work : Lucifer was back two days after

Then he thought about Ella : She fangirls around him all the time she was an easy target. But she tends to be super excited, too happy, too loud. Marcus couldn’t bear her.

But you

You could be the one

You were quite attractive (to his taste), with a good spirit. Plus you weren’t afraid to tell when something was wrong. You were badass which was a huge turn on on him.

In addition he felt this hot connection everytime both of you were alone : some colleagues will say sexual tension but whatever.

If he wasn’t cursed you two would already had the most savage quickie against a wall you would never have.

So basically you were the best candidate

But you were « challenging » (stubborn to be correct) : all the time when he tried to make a move on you, you always found an excuse to reject him or just escape him.

Sure a little challenge was appreciate but he couldn’t wait until you felt in love with him. He might be immortal but patient wasn’t a quality of him

For a moment he thought about asking question at Lucifer since they were supposed to work together (but in fact Lucifer was trying to keep Chloe away as far as possible from Marcus) but he will make him too happy which couldn’t happen.

He decided to come and talk to you : like a big talk on his office. You first thought you screwed something and he was about to yell at you and telling you how much you sucked. But that not what happened in fact Marcus started to apologize for being such piece of work (you will say asshole or dick but nevermind), he told you the last thing he wanted was to hurt you. So he apologized.

You didn’t expect it you thought the man was too proud for apologies but again you didn’t really know him, he was so hot and yet mysterious

You decided to use his apologize as a chance to get to know him (for professional’s purpose obviously) and ask him on a date as proof. You never thought he’ll be agree with that you just wanted to tease him.

You were wrong cause not only does he accept your proposal to a date but he gave you his best smirk like everything happened according to a plan (it was but you didn’t know that)

You then went talk to your best friend Ella : You never heard her screaming that loud before, she was a way too excited about it. It’s fine you love her for that.

You then confess your fear about this date being a way to manipulate her or use her for a plan or something. Ella did her best to calm you down and said a quite good argument : for the very first time Mister « I don’t give a ship I’m lieutenant » decided to make a move he even apologized about his behavior. He was trying to change for you so there nothing you should be afraid of.

You trusted her and make yourself ready

You didn’t plan to sleep with him after the date but still you wore your best underwear just in case. You chose your best outfit the one who make you look like an angel again just in case.

Deep down you didn’t think much about this date you expect him to be « normal » so a bit harsh and just accepte his apologize and go back back to your job like nothing happen. This man wasn’t clearly a talker guy so it’ll probably useless.

You couldn’t be more wrong

Marcus went to your hours just as planned wearing a black shirt that make his body look amazing (especially his arm) with a jean. You couldn’t help but noticed the way his shirt was open just enough to see a bit of his torso but no more.

You went to his house where he cook you the most delicious Italian food you never had. To be honest you never saw him as a cook. He has this huge testosterone aura you expect him to be old-fashioned. For once you were glad to be wrong.

You started to talking. First it was about simple things just to test the water but the more dinner was moving further the more you two start to talk about more private things like dirty things.

Alcool didn’t help. You might confess about how you found him attractive

when he introduced himself how disappointed you were when you saw him interact with the precinct.

He laughed like genuinely laugh at your speech

He confess he was attracted to you the first time he saw you but thought he’ll be easier for both of you to keep it professional.

« Then why did you accept this date ? » « I wanted to be wrong »

You didn’t know if this was alcohol but his stare made you feel both horny and afraid. He was like a animal looking at his prey. You couldn’t tell if it could lust or some dark instinct.

It gave you shivers

At end of the night he drove you home just to be sure and having more time to talk to you.

He walked with you until you were in front of your door not knowing if the date should continue on your living room

As if he could read your mind he gave you a kiss and said goodbye

You thought your date end well

In fact it nevers stopped : when you went back to the precinct for work you find some flowers on your desk red rose and a « that night was awesome let’s do it again » card. You didn’t have to question the team you already knew where it came from

For the following days he was very sweet with you : making you a cup of coffee, helping you with case even joined you to interrogate suspect. It’s like he couldn’t stay away from you.

It was really cute but quite out of character to him. Normally you weren’t the one to fall for just act of attention but this man has such an effect on you, it’s like you couldn’t do anything but just fall for him.

You two decided to give a try and started a relationship

You felt good really good, Marcus was nothing but sweet with you. Always cooking you breakfast, be sure you were okay.

Despite his lack of communication it was perfect.

But don’t worry he has other way to show you his feelings to you. You never experienced sex like this before : the man has so many stamina and has the hability to be both rough and deep on you. He ravaged you like an animal leaving you exhausted but so satisfied, like you never been before.

He started to drive you home with his moto the moment you said it was a huge turn on on you

You were closed like you never thought you could be with a man. All the time no matter what was about he listened to you carefully and tried to help you. It was like talking to a wise man, a man who lived so many life before this one.

When it came to him it was different in fact he was starting to lose his mind. It was been 3 months since you two were a thing and yet his mark didn’t disappear. He came to think you weren’t the one after all and he should go see another people.

But he couldn’t help but felt guilty he felt it his stomach was twisted and couldn’t think at you without feeling sad. He has grown quite fond of you. He couldn’t just broke you like this it would break your heart.

He won’t let that happen

Little by little, step by step he started to appreciate a lot of things about you and stopped forcing himself to be nice around you. He was naturally. He didn’t have to force himself anymore. He genuinely wanted to make you happy.

And you felt it, your relationship felt even more real like you two started to have a connection a true one.

He didn’t admit it before but he loved seeing you cooking or just prepare his clothes for the next day. Just saw you being domestic for him make his knees got weak

He also loved seeing you buy new cloth just to flirt with him and please him.

it’s been such a long time since someone cared genuinely about him

it felt good

Marcus stopped to focus about his mark, like he wasn’t afraid to loose another people he cared anymore.

The truth is the second he stopped thinking about himself and cared about you : his mark was gone. But it took him 3 weeks to realize it

All he wanted to do now that his mark was gone, was to live his life as he pleased with you by his side.

However destiny has other plan for him

At some point Marcus will try to become immortal again

And by doing that will lose you

#marcus pierce #Caïn #Marcus pierce x reader #Caïn x reader #lucifer tv #Lucifer fandoms #Marcus Pierce headcanons #tom welling #Marcus pierce x you #Lucifer netflix #Lieutenant Pierce x reader #pierce x reader #Caïn x you #Lieutenant Marcus Pierce #Lieutenant Pierce

190 notes · View notes

durifmdarchived · 3 years

Text

self para

date: early june. character(s) involved: bongju (his manager). about: duri films the cf for coca-cola. trigger warnings: n/a. notes: here is the second coca-cola para i promised myself i would do <3. thank you shinee for being the soundtrack to this one. word count: 952.

when it came to filming cfs, duri was simply no longer nervous. he had oddly become a bit used to filming cfs, a bit more comfortable filming them. when he first worked with coca-cola, who had been his first brand ambassadorship outside of knight, he was incredibly nervous. considering the fact that he just hadn’t done a cf alone before, in any capacity. he remembers being really nervous that the takes were going to be terrible - that the final product was going to end up looking pretty bad. but, he had ended up being rather wrong on that front because it had managed to work out to the fullest extent. coca-cola was duri’s first step to being more confident with being on his own, stepping into the “visuals” that people said he always had, and being very comfortable. so, to make a three-sixty circle back to being a brand ambassador for coca-cola once again. something about it felt right, even nice.

he arrives to set, where coca-cola already has hair and make-up for him. truth be told, it was nice not having to go to the salon in the early mornings. it was rather simple things that were being done, so it didn’t seem to last very long. but, duri did enjoy just talking with the staff, especially when he was told the schedule for the day, and what they’d be doing. he was sure to do his best to make mental notes of all of it, but he knew that the rest of the staff would be there to remind him - so, he didn’t fully worry about it in any ways. he gets up from the chair once done, and made his way to wardrobe. he was dressed simply, a yellow t-shirt, and shorts. later, sneakers and opened button up would be added later, but not for what they were shooting first.

he runs through a few takes of the first scenes that were being done. they took up a lot of the time, just to make sure the shots were right, and trying different things for the end products. he probably had more coca-cola than most people consume, for the shots of him opening up a glass bottle of the drink, and taking sips from it. but, again, it was all about making the shot look right and good. he was doing his best to do his part and listened carefully to the instructions given to him. that part would soon be over, and they’d move onto the next.

duri would be given a pair of white sneakers, as well as a blue button up that was in the style of a kerchief. the next part, he wanted to get over really quickly, especially because it made him nervous. sure, the vehicle wouldn’t actually be moving in any capacity, and he’d just be sitting it in. but, it was still causing small anxiety for duri in an odd way. luckily, however, his manager, bongju, managed to really just talk him through it, knowing duri always got a bit anxious when it came to cars. so, he got into the front seat, buckled up, and pretended like he was a driver - when he wasn’t at all. but, it was for a short scene, none the less, and they were sure to shoot a few times - just to be sure they got the perfect one.

there was a small break that was given, leaving them to wait for the sky to change outside for the final two scenes. duri was sure to eat with bongju during this time and to relax a bit, as instructed by bongju in the first place. he really could use some coffee, but he decided to go with coca-cola instead - considering this was a shoot for coca-cola, nonetheless. just as quickly as the break had started, however, it seemed like it was about to end, and he was sure to freshen himself up teeth and breath wise, as well as the makeup artist coming up to him to simply touch-up his makeup. upon doing that, it was time for the next scenes.

they were a lot more simple, to say the least, he would greet all the other actors that came to set before the shoot, and would be instructed to do what he just did while filming. he got a bit of a workout as well, with how many times he had to pick up a bucket full of ice and coca-cola - which was nice because he probably wasn’t getting his actual work-out that day, considering it was taken up completely by filming the cf for coca-cola. after doing this scene a few times, there was another short break for touch-ups, as it had to get darker to move onto the next set. so, he followed the director and his manager to the next spot with the other actors. this one went a lot quicker, however, as there wasn’t much to it after set-up. he, once again, did it a few times as what was laid out for him for the different shots, and more choice to pick.

upon doing so many takes, everything was fully wrapped up, and there was applause for him, which just flustered him. this gesture made him giggle as he bowed to everyone, and waved. he thanked the staff and the other actors, before getting taken back to wardrobe. he’d change back into what he came in, before thanking the staff again, and bongju would take him off to practice.

he really did look forward to be announced as the face of coca-cola once again. he hoped others would be excited about it as well.

#⌜ self para. ⌝

4 notes · View notes

c-optimistic · 4 years

Text

brave

They met as wide-eyed, sticky fingered, mess inclined, and chatty third graders. And Kara had known it was a love story from the start.

Well, all right. No, she didn’t know at eight years old, per se. She certainly had figured it out by the time they were seniors in high school, but in third grade, watching some short, grubby, sniffling boy attempt to shove Lena off the swing set made Kara see red, not hearts, ending up with a fistful of the boy’s shirt, making threats there was no way she could’ve backed up. (That bully hadn’t seemed to realize that; she found out he’d transferred schools not a week later, teachers citing he had ‘irreconcilable issues’ with the other students—namely, Kara.)

The point, of course, was that it wasn’t exactly the beginning of some romantic love story. Rather, it turned into Lena’s favorite thing to talk about when they met new people, an icebreaker of sorts when she met with investors and board members and random strangers on the street, the lot of them chuckling over Lena Luthor’s childhood best friend.

(“She was barely three feet tall, I swear. But she scared him with nothing but narrowed eyes and a gritted voice and honestly, I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything more impressive. My best friend was, and I guess still is, a badass.”

Not that she’d admit it, but Kara always blushed at the story and at Lena’s added comment at the end.)

And the thing was, she knew she screwed up. Because Lena was more than just a best friend to her—most times, Lena felt a little bit like everything. Lena was her rock, her anchor, her grounding point. When everything was going wrong in her life, it had been Lena that she turned to, Lena who held her hand, Lena who allowed her to sob on her shoulder.

Falling in love with her best friend wasn’t a part of their story. Until, well, it was. And once it happened, it felt pretty damn inevitable. (Like the sun rising. Like the stars shining. Like the rising and falling tides. Like the changing of seasons and the blooming of flowers and the fresh scent of an afternoon breeze.)

Yet, when Kara shared these thoughts with the others in her life, she wasn’t exactly met with a response that inspired much confidence. Alex just laughed at the use of the word inevitable, Winn questioned her sanity more than once, and James had pulled her into a silent hug. And yes, their support would’ve been nice, but it’d gotten to the point that Kara didn’t care what they thought, because they hadn’t been there the day she met Lena. Her sister and friends weren’t there when Kara turned to Lena, her chest heaving in anger, horrified that anyone would dare hurt someone over a swing set, and Lena had smiled at her, stuck out her hand (already practicing her future career, already charming and clever and confident), and leaned forward.

“Hi,” she’d said, “I’m Lena. Thanks for helping me.”

And Kara (clumsy, cheerful, and carefree) promptly fell in love.

It just took her ten more years recognize it for what it was, then another ten before she did anything about it.

Lena was her best friend.

She didn’t come to such a conclusion lightly. No, at nine years old and precocious to boot, Kara took great care in the way she labeled the people in her life. Alex was her sister in all but blood—their families close, spending most free evenings and weekends with Alex, Eliza, and Jeremiah—and Clark, her actual blood relative, was a continual disappointment, making promises he seemed never able to keep.

And Lena, Lena was her best friend.

“Is that why you talk about her so much?” her mother asked one afternoon, home early from work, an exhausted but pleased expression on her face. “Because she’s your best friend?” Kara didn’t understand the wry smile, the funny expression. It didn’t seem to matter at the time.

“Yes!” she answered cheerfully, bounding over to her mother and ignoring her aunt’s snort from where she sat in the kitchen, head buried in a book, hands preoccupied with a mug of hot chocolate (the one she made for Kara long finished, burnt tongue forgotten in the repeated—and rejected—requests for more). “Like you and father! Or Aunt Astra and Uncle Non!”

Astra looked up at the sound of her name, brows furrowed in the way that Kara worked so hard to mimic, and she put her mug aside, lips quirking into something resembling a smile.

“Oh little one,” she began slowly, shaking her head as she clearly steeled herself to say something, her eyes soft in the way she only ever looked at Kara. “That’s not—”

“—it’s fine, Astra,” Kara’s mother interrupted, her own smile still in place. “I’m sure she’ll figure it out eventually without our help. Kara’s a smart girl.”

Astra laughed and agreed, neither her nor Kara’s mother deigning to answer Kara’s repeated questions as to what was so funny.

(Later, Kara will find solace in the fact that though she was too young and too naïve to put her feelings into words, her aunt and mother had understood anyway. Even years later, it felt important that her family had known about what she felt for Lena—it was a big thing in her life, and she was glad she somehow shared it with her family.)

Lena did not get along with her adoptive mother.

Kara wasn’t sure why, Lena never quite explained or even acknowledged it except with soft sighs and resigned expressions. Alex told Kara that the Luthors were an old family—Kara didn’t really understand what that meant and Alex assured her once she was a teenager it’d make sense—and that Lillian Luthor was a stickler for tradition.

(The truth was that Eliza and Jeremiah had worriedly discussed a bruise Kara had mentioned to her parents offhandedly when telling them every detail about her day with Lena, and Alex had merely repeated phrases she’d heard her parents utter.

The truth was that ‘did not get along’ was an understatement, not at all an accurate description of what Lena dealt with everyday, and yet those in any position to offer help were rendered powerless against a name like Luthor and everything that entailed.)

Kara wasn’t a teenager like Alex, she wasn’t wise like Lena, but the same protective instinct she’d felt in elementary school made a raging comeback in middle school when Lena confided to her that she was afraid to go home, afraid to disappoint her mother somehow. And it was so different from Kara’s own experiences—her own desire to spend as much time as she could with her busy mother, looking forward to the days she wasn’t buried in cases, unbuttoning the top two buttons of her shirt as she finally walked through the door late at night, forcing the exhaustion from her face and smiling wide at Kara—that she took Lena by the hand and told her quite firmly that she didn’t have to go home at all.

When Lionel Luthor himself came by their home several hours later, he frowned at the protective way Kara stood in front of Lena, listened carefully to what Kara’s mother had to say, then knelt down and placed a hand on Kara’s shoulder.

“I’m very glad Lena has a friend like you, Kara,” he said, using his free hand to rub his bald head unconsciously, weariness tingeing his actions and words. “Do you mind if she spends more of her time here?”

“Of course not,” Kara answered, almost offended that he even felt the need to ask. Lena was her best friend. She didn’t think there was anything she wasn’t willing to do for Lena.

“I’ll take care of it,” Lionel Luthor said as he got back to his feet, looked over to Kara’s parents now. “Thank you for bringing it to my attention. Thank you for your daughter.” He grinned over at Kara, holding out a hand for Lena, seemingly unsurprised that Lena took great care to first squeeze Kara’s hand in thanks before reaching out for her father.

(When she was tucked in that night, Kara’s mother told her she was proud of her, that she did the right thing bringing Lena home with her.

And many years later, Lena will squeeze her hand much like she had that day, smiling as she said, “You saved me from the day I met you. But it wasn’t till that afternoon that I realized you were my hero.”)

She was thirteen when her parents died in that fire and her aunt and uncle were jailed for it.

Clark and the Danvers called it an explosion, the papers called it an attack by those who disagreed with her parents’ work, but Kara always referred to it as ‘that fire’ both in her head and out loud. It was ‘that fire that killed her parents,’ ‘that fire that ruined her life,’ ‘that fire that took everything from her.’ She didn’t want to give that fire legitimacy by giving it a proper name, a proper description. It was cruel and senseless and quick, and Kara could do nothing but hate that fire in the only way she knew how: by never dwelling on it, by never giving it a name.

(Calling it that fire rather than ‘murder’ or ‘crime’ or ‘loss of everything she once held sacred’ made her feel better, made her think that maybe one day she would hear the name Astra and not want to throw up, that she could think of her parents and not imagine the horror they must have felt when their own family stabbed them in the back.

Calling it that fire gave Kara distance and separation, two things she desperately needed unless she wanted images of a bright red flame tearing everything she held dear apart seared into the back of her eyelids, visible every time she closed her eyes.)

Only Lena had ever seemed to understand. Only Lena had never once brought it up, merely following Kara’s lead and referring to the explosion, the attack, the death of her parents, as nothing more than that fire.

And Kara was thirteen, she was heartbroken and alone, and Clark—the one her parents had named as her guardian in the event anything went wrong—packed his things and disappeared, leaving her with the Danvers.

(“I’m too young to be a parent,” he’d said, hugging her tightly. “I’m not good for you, Kara, please understand that.”

She didn’t, of course.)

And Kara was thirteen and she had Alex’s warm hugs at night, promising her that they were officially sisters and she’d always be there, and she had Lena’s tight grip on her hand at school, silently swearing she’d always lend her strength, the two of them spending every free moment together.

But Kara was thirteen, and she mistook the love she felt for Lena with the sort of love she felt for Alex, and that seemed enough at the time.

“What’re you doing?” Alex asked, chin on Kara’s shoulder, eye on the sketchbook placed on the desk in front of her. She grimaced a little when she noticed the graphite coating Kara’s fingers, and she reached out, plucking each individual digit, prying them from the pencil in Kara’s hand, rolling her eyes when Kara merely huffed and hunched her shoulders, attempting to ward off Alex’s lanky limbs.

“None of your business.”

“You’re in the middle of the living room, it’s my business when you’re in my line of sight.”

“How about I use that argument when you’re chatting with whatever her name is on the phone until three in the morning?”

As if the words were a jolt of electricity, Alex’s arms pulled away from Kara, her entire body floundering as she stumbled backwards, managing nothing more coherent than a series of half-hearted monosyllabic protests.

“That was a low blow, Kara,” Alex hissed once she got her head on straight, looking decidedly annoyed. “You promised not to bring it up if I bought you ice cream after school.”

“You got me a Popsicle, it wasn’t the same and the deal is off.”

“What’re you hiding?” Alex asked, eyes suddenly narrowing, much more interested in the sketchbook than Kara felt comfortable with. “You’re always more snarky when you’re hiding something.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, now if you don’t mind, I’ve got a lot of homework and I promised Eliza I’d help with dinner so—” She attempted to pick up the sketchbook and get up from her seat at the table, but Alex pushed her back down, tugging the sketchbook towards herself with only one finger, her movements exaggeratedly slow, as if daring Kara to stop her.

“Rambling and attempting to hide away?” She whistled, flipping the cover of the sketchbook open agonizingly slowly, one finger thumbing the bottom of the first page, drawing out the moment she’d finally turn it over. “It must be a big deal if you’re acting like this.”

“It’s really just a sketch, it’s nothing—”

Alex turned the page, and there, in graceful pencil strokes, was a sketch of their neighbor’s dog.

“Are you kidding? You were hiding this?” Alex demanded, sounding more disappointed than she had any right to.

“I told you it’s nothing, you didn’t believe me.” Kara held her breath, not daring to look away from Alex’s gaze, hoping that her adoptive sister saw nothing but sincerity and honesty. Unfortunately, Alex knew her better than Kara had imagined, because a moment later a wicked grin appeared on her face, and she flipped through the sketchbook, pausing when she reached the pages about halfway through, her eyes widening as she took in the drawings.

“This is so gross,” Alex finally commented, shutting the book and pushing it towards Kara. “You’re gross.”

“It’s not gross.”

“It is. It’s sappy and sickly sweet and it’s just gross.”

“Stop saying that, it’s not gross—”

“—you drew pictures of your best friend like a sap, Kara. Puppies and Lena. That’s what you spend your time drawing.”

“I like puppies and I like Lena. Maybe if you were nicer, I’d draw you too.”

“And be subjected to that cavity inducing mess? No way.” She huffed, collapsing over Kara, arms and legs splayed wide and their position terribly uncomfortable—both because Kara felt crushed and because she was sure the way Alex had thrown herself over Kara couldn’t have been good for her back. “When are you going to do things I can hold over your head for years to come? I mean, besides the getting caught on the roof thing.”

“I do things!” Kara insisted, shoving Alex to the floor when her adoptive sister’s only response was to laugh uproariously at the lie. It proved to be less of a fib much later in the week, after she tossed her paints at Alex, learning through a call from Lena that Alex had torn out one of the drawings and gifted it to the Luthor.

Alex fondly dubbed it the ‘Paint Incident’ and she brought it up every chance she got.

“Wait. Wait,” Kara said, holding up a hand and staring at Lena in confusion. “You want to…break into the art room…why exactly?”

“Look, taking art was your fault in the first place, Kara,” Lena said, wringing her hands together and staring determinedly at the floor as she paced feverishly up and down the length of Kara’s bedroom. “You said things like ‘oh take it it’ll be fun, we’ll be in class together’ fat load of fun it’s been to fail—”

“—you’re failing art? I didn’t realize that was even a thing—”

“—so the very least you can do is help me break in to steal back my final piece so that I can fix it before Mrs. Grendson grades it,” Lena continued, ignoring Kara entirely and looking terribly pleased about that fact. She ceased her pacing and turned to Kara desperately, hands now clenched at her sides. “Please, Kara. I can’t fail. Especially not in art.”

Kara stared at her best friend, open-mouthed, trying to think of a response other than flat out laughing at the distress on Lena’s face, the certainty that Mrs. Grendson was capable of failing anyone, let alone a Luthor.

(Lex was long gone, making a name for himself in every corner of the scientific community, but their high school still thought fondly of him—and all the trophies and awards he brought for them.

Sometimes, Kara wondered if it was hard for Lena to grow up with Lex towering over her as he did, casting a rather large shadow.)

“How do you know if your redone work will be better? Apparently you’re terrible at art.”

At this, Lena smirked.

(It did funny things to Kara’s chest.)

“Because you’re going to do it for me.”

“Why would I do that?”

“Because you owe me,” Lena murmured, stepping over to where Kara sat on her bed, advancing rather slowly.

(It made Kara feel like her heart was attempting to pound straight out of her chest.)

“I don’t know if that’s true…” Kara said weakly, trailing off when Lena’s smirk just widened and she was standing so close to Kara that her legs brushed Kara’s knees, the heat of her skin practically burning Kara.

“Please, Kara?”

(She wasn’t sure if it was the please, the proximity, the heavy pulse, or even the pathetic groan she hoped that Lena hadn’t heard, but it didn’t matter. One minute Lena was looking down at her, asking her to break nearly a dozen school rules—and Kara was rather generally fond of rules—and the next Kara was nodding dumbly, unable to say no.

Later she’ll think about this moment, the look in Lena’s eyes as she stared down at Kara, and it’ll give her hope.)

For the most part, Kara was remarkably good at pretending she was fine. It’d been a little over three years since she lost her entire family in one fell swoop, and it was easy to fake a smile, to push away the sadness that threatened to creep up and envelop her whole, to take each day as it came and never allow anything to bog her down for long. There was something…easy…about the way she lost her family. It was clean and quick, a surgical cut, and while the pain and emptiness remained, she knew she’d manage to heal somewhat—hobble on despite the scars, keep moving despite the ache that shadowed her every movement.

(She had Alex and Eliza and Jeremiah to lean on too, analgesics during a time she felt overwhelmed by pain, soothing her and calming her, turning the angry, red wound into a neat scar that served as a constant reminder, with a twinge of pain she came to expect on rainy days.

Lena only had her.)

Lionel Luthor’s death was slow and cruel. Lena’s cuts were jagged and deep, never quite given the chance to heal, left festering and infected, scar tissue never forming. There was nothing to soothe her, nothing to do to take away the pain, because each time she even drifted close to the process of beginning to heal, her father’s health began to deteriorate—or even worse, would improve, giving her hope only to have that hope come crashing down.

Lex disappeared on her, unable to witness the slow pace with which the illness took his father, and Lillian…Lillian was never much of a mother anyway, and hoping she’d offer comfort to a teenage girl was too much to ask.

Kara, who’d experienced loss and everything that entailed (the memories that kept her awake at night, the lingering anger at the unfairness of the universe, the regret that she’d never share her artwork with her parents, never excitedly tell them about her day or her passions or her love), wasn’t quite sure how to stitch Lena together. After all, when Kara lost everything, she found herself still loved and still cared for, sure that at the end of the day she could get a hug and a chance to forget her pain. But Lena? Lena had shattered and putting her back together was too big a task for Kara alone. She shied away from hugs, refused to accept comfort, and it took weeks before Kara realized the best she could do was merely offer her presence, the silent promise that she would stay—something solid and real and permanent amongst everything that had changed in Lena’s life.

Because after Lionel Luthor died, Kara learned that sometimes love just wasn’t enough to help people heal.

It was two weeks before graduation that Kara…figured it out.

(It being her feelings for Lena, the very feelings her mother and aunt understood before her, feelings she was rather sure Lionel understood before her, feelings Alex understood before Kara even bothered to put a name to them.)

Then again, ‘figuring it out’ was putting it simply, as if she woke up one morning and the knots tangled in her chest somehow unwound and realization came crashing down. It wasn’t like that at all, though. It was slow and arduous, a long time coming and yet somehow mysteriously shocking and life-changing.

She figured that the unraveling of that knot in her chest began with Lionel’s death, when her heart would hammer away in her chest just at the sight of Lena’s smile, which came rarely and disappeared quickly. Or maybe it was when they went to their senior prom together, neither quite willing to put up with boys wearing too much of their father’s cologne and ill-fitting suits. Maybe even it was when Lena held her hand as they laid together in her bed watching a movie Kara had picked out and Lena quietly confided that she didn’t think she was very much into boys at all.

(Most likely, however, it was on a playground in third grade, after threatening a boy she didn’t know and getting the most dazzling smile in reward, a smile Kara would swear shone brighter than any star she spent hours gazing at with Alex.)

It was two weeks before graduation and she felt so stupid for not seeing it before, for not paying more attention, for mistaking the flutter and the swoop and the sense of rightness with the same sort of love she felt for Alex or the boy in her chemistry class who always managed to make her laugh with his antics. She’d allowed herself to pretend, to overlook, to be blissfully ignorant, and all the while her heart had been busy breaking apart piece by piece and reforming somewhere in the palm of Lena’s hands.

She was in love with Lena Luthor. It was such a relief to think, like her lungs had finally managed to fill with air for the first time in her life—as if a weight she hadn’t even been aware of finally was lifted off her shoulders, giving her a chance to stand up straight and tall.

(Every smile that took her breath away, every touch that made her heart race, every comment that had her feeling warm suddenly made sense. And she felt so…blind. How could she have looked Lena in the eye and thought anything other than god I love you and mistaken the promises to always be there and always protect her for anything other than proud declarations of her feelings?

How had she spent ten years around Lena and not realized that she’d fallen head over heels for her best friend?)

It was two weeks before graduation and Lena was lounging on the couch, arguing with Alex over advances in biomedical engineering, the movie Alex had put on long forgotten. At first, Kara had been content to follow along silently, not adding to the debate even when Alex scoffed at Lena’s mentions of Lex’s work, but then her focus had shifted from the words to the way Lena waved her hands around as she tried to get her point across, the way her eyes lit up, the way she impatiently tossed her hair over one shoulder. It was the animation in her voice and the grin on her lips and goddid Kara love her.

As soon as she thought it, she panicked, jumping a little and sending popcorn toppling over the edge of her bowl and onto the ground.

(The thought came so easily, as if it’d always been there in the back of her mind, biding its time until Kara was too distracted or too tired to tack on the just a friend as she tended to do mechanically.

Because of course Kara knew she loved Lena—she just hadn’t been brave enough or smart enough or just old enough to realize all loves weren’t the same.)

“Kara?” Alex asked, staring at her oddly, one eyebrow raised, her argument with Lena forgotten for a moment. “Are you okay?”

“Kara?” Lena prodded when Kara was silent a beat too long.

(And she was so beautiful. Kara wondered how she hadn’t noticed before—the smooth skin and dark hair and vivid eyes that seemed to change color—how she’d never been struck dumb when faced with Lena when she was least expecting it.)

“I—I’m fine. For a second I thought I forgot to do homework but then I realized hey! It’s graduation soon! What does it matter, right? Ignore me, honestly, I think it’s just that I haven’t been sleeping—”

“Up talking all night with Daniel again?” Alex asked with raised eyebrows, looking like she was about to approach Kara, about to attempt to needle information out of her, but Kara could only stare at Lena, watching as her best friend turned to look at the ground.

(It’s not what it sounds like, Kara wanted to yell. She didn’t like Daniel—not like that. But he was helping her with Lena’s surprise for graduation, something that had taken longer than Kara had expected.

But Lena wasn’t meeting her eyes and Alex was waggling her eyebrows suggestively and oh this was bad time for a life-altering realization.)

“Daniel’s helping me with something,” Kara said quickly, getting to her feet and crossing her arms, not at all amused by the way Alex kept grinning. “Besides you know I don’t like him.”

Alex laughed, shaking her head.

“Um no,” she said, turning to Lena as if to ask for support, eyebrows furrowing just slightly when she noticed Lena’s pinched expression and downcast eyes, “you’ve been super secretive these past few weeks. What’re you up to?”

“Can we just watch the movie please?” Kara begged, and something must’ve shown on her face because Alex’s eyes shifted from Lena (who was still staring rather determinedly at the floor) to Kara and then back, her mouth falling open in shock or excitement or confusion—or maybe a little of all three.

“You know what, the movie sounds nice,” Alex murmured, shooting Kara a look that screamed they’d be spending that night talking on the roof like they did when Kara was first taken in by the Danvers and everything was still so raw.

(Kara thought to just tell Lena right after graduation, blurt out the truth just like ripping off a Band-Aid. But when the day finally arrived, Kara could barely breathe when she looked out into the sea of parents and suddenly found herself longing for her family, an ache that wasn’t made easier even though Alex was screaming in the stands and Eliza and Jeremiah were clapping as loudly as they could.

And if Kara was struggling, how did Lena feel when no one showed up for her at all?

So instead Kara shoved her feelings down and gave Lena the bracelet she’d gone to Daniel and his family for help to make, deciding then and there she could wait.

She just ended up waiting a little longer than she expected.)

She always found an excuse to remain silent, utterly convinced by the lies she told herself, the I’ll tell her tomorrow and the it’s not a good time and the she looks so busy right now.

She stayed silent the entire summer before they went off to college (“Come on, Alex,” she’d defended when Alex gave her knowing looks and made pointed comments, “she’s not even here, she’s on vacation in France with Lex”) and then bit her tongue during the first several months of their first semester, nodding and forcing a smile whenever Lena spoke of her first real girlfriend (“She’s beautiful, Kara, and so smart, god I could listen to her talk all day”), shamefully relieved the day she learned that long-distance had been too much to handle for the other girl. In fact, the first time Kara came even close to admitting the truth was their first Christmas away from home, the two of them deciding to spend it with Alex and a girl she’d only introduce as ‘Sawyer’ with a strange expression on her face.

She came close to admitting the truth when Lena brushed by her and whispered that it was so easy to tell when someone was in love, grinning over at Alex and winking playfully, and Kara wanted to ask, if it truly was so easy, why Lena still hadn’t been able to tell Kara was in love.

She didn’t of course.

Lena looked terribly busy as she chatted away with Maggie, a smile gracing her lips.

It took Alex and Maggie another month to get their shit together and admit their feelings.

A month after that they went on their first date.

Near the end of Kara’s freshman year Alex had rushed over to Kara’s dorm, gushing about how she just admitted she loved Maggie and how great it felt and how Kara had to tell Lena now, she just had to.

And Kara…well, she tried.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Kara said with a grin, just finishing off her story about Alex for Lena, the two of them laying out on the grass outside the building where they had their last exam. She leaned back, staring up at the blue sky, hands pillowed behind her head. “It’s romantic and sweet and just…new love. How beautiful.” She was about to say more, wax poetic about how happy Alex was, maybe segue into her own feelings if she felt an opening, but Lena snorted slightly and Kara found herself turning to her best friend, shocked to see the distaste coloring Lena’s expression. “What?” Kara asked, rolling her eyes a little. “Is this too saccharine for you?”

“No, I’m happy for Alex.” When Kara just raised an eyebrow in response, Lena sighed and elaborated. “I am happy for Alex. It’s just…come on, Kara. Let’s be real. Love doesn’t exist.”

(If there was anything that could break Kara’s heart, it was that.

And god it was said so easily, so terribly sure and matter of fact, and Kara didn’t know why it was so hard to breathe suddenly.)

“W-what do you mean? Love is real. You’re my best friend and I love you.” (This was the closest she’d ever get to admitting the depth of her feelings for another nine years.)

“That’s not the same,” Lena answered, pink dusting her cheeks suddenly, looking awfully interested in the grass. “Love is…it’s a series of chemical reactions. And it’s temporary and fleeting and finicky.”

(Temporary? Fleeting? That wasn’t Kara’s experience. She’d been in love since she was eight, before she could recognize it for what it was, before she knew the feeling had a name.

But if Lena was right, which she often was, did that mean what Kara felt wasn’t love, was something different, something stronger and more lasting?)

“Lena, you can’t mean that. Love is, you know, love. It’s why we’re here. It’s why anyone does anything. Even if you don’t feel romantic love—”

“I don’t mean I don’t feel it, Kara. I mean it doesn’t last.” She swallowed hard, clenched and unclenched her hands, turning to Kara warily. “Look, can we just talk about something else?”

“Well no, now we can’t, now I want to know why you’re so anti-love.”

Lena stared at her, expression hard and lips pressed into a thin and angry line, then she turned away. Kara didn’t think she’d answer until she did, Lena seeming more surprised by her honesty than Kara felt.

“Because I asked my mother if she loved my father,” Lena admitted in a soft voice. “And she said love had nothing to do with it.”

“Your mom isn’t exactly the picture of—”

“I really don’t want to talk about it, Kara. Okay? I’m happy for Alex. I hope things work out for her.”

Kara wanted to argue, but Lena’s shoulders were tense and she knew if she said one more word on the topic, Lena would up and leave. So she just sighed.

“So. About the writing class I want to take…when do you think you can fit it into your schedule?”

(She didn’t need Lena’s relieved smile to know she’d made the right choice.)

She met Mike through Winn at the end of her junior year, and she cursed him everyday for it.

“For the tenth time, no Mike, I don’t want to go out with you,” Kara hissed the moment Mike stepped into her space, his eyes widening slightly behind his glasses. He looked surprised by her anger, which only served to piss her off more.

She came out to drink with her sister and friends, not spend an hour trying to shrug off Mike.

“Whoa, I wasn’t going to ask you out,” he defended, holding up his hands. He smiled at her and she hated—hated—that he seemed vaguely charming in that moment. Then he opened his mouth. “Look, I’m a prick. I know it. You know it. But I’m a prick that knows a lost cause when I see one. I give up.”

“It took you ten tries to realize it was a lost cause?” she huffed out sarcastically.

“Nope,” he told her, drawing out the pop. “It took meeting Lena Luthor once. So?”

“So what?”

“Ah, avoidance strategies. I know them well.” He grinned and motioned at the seat next to her, actually waiting until she made a vague sign that he could sit. “I know all about unrequited love Kara Danvers, and if that’s what’s holding you back, you shouldn’t worry.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Kara bit out, not at all in the mood to carry on a conversation anymore. Mike didn’t seem at all bothered by her annoyance. If anything, he seemed strangely…fond? Endeared at the very least, something that made Kara’s stomach churn uncomfortably.

“I’m not going to sit here and tell you what you already know,” he began, giving her a look and a wink when Kara couldn’t help but briefly glance at where she knew Lena was standing, deep in conversation with Winn about one of their classes. “But I do want to offer my help.”

“Your help? Why would I need your help?”

“I know a few things about love,” Mike said, wiggling his eyebrows and making Kara want to gag. “And I know for a fact that nothing makes you more attractive than when people think you’re…forbidden fruit, shall I say.”

“That sounds stupid,” Kara said flatly, rolling her eyes and refocusing on her drink. Mike, however, didn’t seem to recognize her body language as the dismissal it was.

“Trust me, Kara. Make her jealous, make her think she can’t have you, and she’ll be running right into the palm of your hands.”

“And let me guess, you volunteer to pretend to date me.”

Mike missed her deadpan.

“It would be my honor, Kara,” he said, aiming for gallant and charming but coming off as more than a little creepy.

Kara sighed, shifting in her seat to face Mike and motioning for him to lean closer.

“Mike,” she began slowly, watching as the beginnings of a smile formed on Mike’s lips, “that is absolutely, undeniably the worst idea I’ve ever heard. It also sounds predatory.” Her hands clenched and she knew her eyes had hardened because Mike’s smile was gone, replaced by a wide-eyed look, as if he couldn’t understand her anger. “Lena’s my best friend, not some prey to be baited into dating me. So if you don’t mind, keep yourself and your lousy ideas away from me and Lena.” She gave him a harsh smile, watching in satisfaction as he nearly stumbled in his rush to get away.

It was only a minute later when Alex took the seat Mike had abandoned, a questioning look on her face.

“You look like you’re ready to punch someone,” Alex said cheerfully, attempting to defuse the tension, make Kara smile. It worked.

“He says he’s given up, that’s something.”

“Oh? Finally realized it was a lost cause?”

“Apparently Lena is too much competition for him.” It was the first time Kara ever tacitly admitted her feelings for Lena, the first time she acknowledged it aloud, and admitting it now to her sister felt a little like a rush of fresh air, clean and crisp and carefree. Alex smiled, thankfully not making a big deal of it, reaching out to squeeze Kara’s shoulder gently.

“Come on,” she said. “Maggie beat me once at pool and she’s become insufferable. You have to beat her, deflate a bit of that ego.”

“You can’t beat your own girlfriend?”

“Honestly? I think the competitiveness is cute. And she looks so happy.”

“But you want me to beat her?”

“If you do it, she won’t be upset with me.”

Kara stared at her sister for a moment, grateful and a little jealous all at once, then laughed, not for the first time, ridiculously glad for Alex Danvers.

Amongst their friends it was a well-known fact that Kara and Lena did not fight.

This was strange for several reasons. For one, not fighting did not mean there was any shortage of disagreements. In fact, Kara and Lena disagreed on a great deal (“No, Lena, you can’t just write off someone because of something he’s done in the past. People can change, they can choose to be better”) and were often seen in the middle of quiet, measured, and passionate debates (“I understand your position, Kara, but I can’t just ask my brother to give someone a job, it’s unethical and she’s not even in a STEM field”). For another, as their majors and hobbies and interests drew them further apart, it was always assumed that distance would crop up in their relationship, adding pressure to an already precarious situation (“Come on, Kara, how long are you just going to pine after Lena before you realize something’s got to give?”).

And yet they did not fight.

Their disagreements were just that: disagreements. More than once, Maggie commented on how easy it was for Lena and Kara to resolve their conflicts, talking through their issues within the hour it cropped up, nipping it in the bud expertly and efficiently.

(When Winn asked for their secret, Kara had laughed. “It’s simple,” she’d said, patting Winn on the shoulder. “There’s two rules: never lie and never allow issues to fester.”

“Kara, you make it sound like that’s easy,” he’d said, rolling his eyes. Lena, who was arguing with Maggie over the choice in wine—not quite willing to go another night with the cheap brand Maggie bought from the supermarket, ignoring Maggie’s protests that they all tasted the same anyway—took the time to grin over at Winn and Kara, shaking her head fondly.

“It’s not easy,” she’d informed Winn. “But it’s worth it.”

“Totally worth it,” Kara had echoed, not hearing Maggie’s mumbled get a room.)

Thus, no one was more surprised by their fight the week before Christmas than Kara and Lena.

“What do you mean you go home for Christmas?” Kara demanded, arms crossed over her chest, unable to help the hitch in her voice.

(She was angry. Never lie, she’d told Winn, turning out to be a joke.

Except no, she was hurt, and she wasn’t used to that when it came to Lena, had never looked at her and thought, ouch.)

“Come on, Kara. It’s not that big of a deal—”

“—you’ve been going home these past two years, to your mom, and you’ve been telling me you spend Christmas with Lex. Why would you lie?” Kara’s interruption didn’t go over well. Rather than respond, Lena’s lips twisted, her eyes narrowed. Kara hadn’t seen her this displeased since she’d made a B in an inorganic chemistry class.

“I don’t have to discuss every single little thing I do with you, Kara,” she finally said, and by the way her eyes widened—the way she immediately stepped forward, as if to take what she said back—she regretted her words as soon as they came out of her mouth.

(Later, Kara will wonder why the comment felt like something piercing her between the ribs, why it felt like a blow to the middle, leaving her breathless and heaving for air. She’ll wonder why it hurt so much when logically she understood that Lena didn’t need to share every detail of her life—Kara certainly didn’t, hadn’t told Lena about that balloon of emotion in her chest every time she even looked at Lena.

Later, Kara will wonder if this was what being heartbroken felt like.)

“I see,” she muttered, raising her chin and stepping back when Lena looked like she was about to reach out. “You’re right.” (She was. After all, Kara hadn’t told Lena about her feelings, feelings she shoved away, torn between it never being the right time to confess and the certainty that a confession would only serve to break them apart.) “I shouldn’t have pried.”

“Kara—”

But for the first time, Kara didn’t listen.

They didn’t talk again until they both returned to campus, at which point they both pretended the argument never happened.

(Never allow issues to fester, she’d told Winn.

Well that turned out to be a joke too.)

“As far as electives go, it’s not the worst,” Lena graciously conceded, attempting and failing to wink over at Kara from across the table. Alex—visiting for the weekend—snickered before pretending to choke on a potsticker when Kara glared at her. “I’ve actually learned a lot.”

“The humanities are boring, Luthor, admit it. You crave labs and the thrill of discovery and late nights with nothing but coffee, microscopes, and Jack’s suffocating cologne.”

(Kara turned her head, suddenly overly interested in the baseball game on the television, not wanting Lena—or worse, Alex—seeing her grimace.

Pfft Jack. He was…annoyingly decent and frustratingly kind. Jack was Jack and Kara didn’t question it when Lena said he’d asked her out on a date after long months spent working in the same lab, didn’t mention her late night confession back in high school, didn’t ask Lena if she was sure when she said she wanted to give him a chance.

Because Jack…he made Lena smile.)

“Go back to your formaldehyde soaked apartment, Alex,” Kara scoffed when she realized she’d been silent too long—long enough that Alex was looking at her knowingly and Lena seemed a little bit concerned. “Don’t you have slides to study?”

“I take a break from studying for you and this is how I’m treated?” Alex said in mock offense, leaning back exaggeratedly and placing a hand over her heart. “I’ll have you know, medical school is no joke.”

“Then go back, I’m sure all your professors are missing you,” Kara muttered, dragging her finger through the condensation that had gathered on her glass. She flicked the water over at Alex, narrowing her eyes when it just made her sister grin.

“You could’ve stuck with physics, you know. No one forced you to change your major.” Except, judging from Alex’s eyes and the uptick of her right eyebrow, that wasn’t what she was saying at all. It was more like you could tell Lena and put yourself out of your misery or maybe something like stop moping already and eat the last potsticker.

“I like my major,” Kara said, leaning back in her chair. And judging from Alex’s resigned expression, she’d read that to mean stop meddling in my life.

“I hate it when the two of you have your silent conversations,” Lena said suddenly, pulling Kara and Alex out of their stare off. “You’re not as sneaky as you like to think. There’s too much eyebrow wiggling and sighing.”

“You sound jealous, Luthor,” Alex said cheerfully. “Don’t worry, Kara likes you too.”

“That wasn’t what I—”

“—speaking of electives,” Kara interrupted, already tired of Lena and Alex’s faux arguing, a habit they’d formed since Alex went off to medical school and Lena asked Lex to push LuthorCorp towards investing more in biomedical engineering. “I have to go rewrite my story.”

“Yeah, I still don’t get that. Why are you rewriting your assignment?”

“Kara decided our professor was wrong in assigning the prompt in the first place. But with the threat of a failing grade looming over her head, she’s finally willing to see reason,” Lena explained, smiling over at Kara fondly, apparently terribly amused by Kara’s show of protest.

Alex, clearly deciding that today was the day she wanted to settle once and for all who knew Kara best, just raised an eyebrow and looked steadily at Kara.

“What was the prompt?” she asked softly, like she knew, without having any of the details, exactly what was twisting in Kara’s chest and why she was willing to nearly fail—why she’d rather fail.

“We’re supposed to write something that ends tragically. It’s supposed to be a homage to naturalism.”

“That’s not quite the prompt, Kara, you’re—”

“—so we weren’t supposed to have a unhappy ending for our characters?” Kara said, cutting Lena off more harshly than she intended. She turned away from Lena’s hurt expression and focused on Alex, unable to meet her sister’s eyes.

“Oh, Kara,” she said after a moment. “It’s just a story.”

“That’s not the point, Alex,” Kara said, arms crossed over her chest. She knew Alex was getting so much more from that one comment, reading in-between the lines and understanding just how deep it went.

“I know,” Alex said, and it broke Kara’s heart because Lena just seemed confused—when normally, she was the first to notice something was wrong.

James Olsen was…gosh, he was James Olsen.

He was kind and generous and brave and he dragged Clark right back into her life, and when he spoke Kara thought her knees would give way because gosh he was James Olsen.

He was sweet and passionate and could make her laugh with ease, and he was late for work the day they met because apparently she made the bestcoffee he’d ever had and he couldn’t believe his best friend’s cousin worked at the café down the street for nearly a month without his knowing.

“It’s fate,” he said, grinning as he tossed several twenties into the tip jar, much to the glee of Kara’s coworkers. “I’ll see you later, Kara,” he added and made it sound charming and not creepy like Kara was used to (because it was a question, a request, made confidently and kindly, with all the promise of respecting her wishes and boundaries).

(And Clark was grinning next to him, his eyes sad as he looked at her but the hint of a promise on his lips, a whisper of things changing as he murmured a quick and awkward goodbye.

Clark, who left her. Clark, who was back again thanks to James Olsen.)

James Olsen…James Olsen made her heart flutter, made her stomach fill with butterflies, made her feel heard and respected and important. He took her around Metropolis, on his daily attempts to snap a quick picture of whatever caught his interest, telling her all about what it was like working with Clark and Lois and Perry White—telling her about the Daily Planet and finding a home behind the lens of his camera. He spoke of his father, of his admiration for all those who gave everything to help others, his hope that one day he could do the same.

And Kara…she told him about Alex, about missing Clark sometimes even if she was still furious that he left her behind, she told him about her parents and the lab her father worked in, the cases her mother poured over at nights pausing long enough only to make sure to tuck her in. She told him about how she’d wanted to follow her parents’ footsteps, wanted to help people, wanted to do something important with her life.

She told him about her Aunt Astra—how she wanted to see her again, wanted to find out why she did what she did, if she regretted her actions, if she felt guilty that she ruined Kara’s life.

She told him about Eliza and Jeremiah and how much she loved them.

She told him about moving to Metropolis and how she’d imagined it would be the next big adventure, that coming here would change everything—help her find her place.

She did not tell him about Lena.

She couldn’t. She couldn’t admit that Lena had a permanent place next to Alex in her heart, couldn’t tell James that Lena was a constant before and after her parents—a grounding point, an anchor. She couldn’t confess that Lena held her hand throughout all her anger at Clark, all her mixed feelings over her Aunt Astra, didn’t even know how to say that Lena was her family as much as Eliza and Jeremiah.

She didn’t even say that the move to Metropolis was for Lena, for them to remain together in some way even while she was off rising in the ranks in her brother’s company. She…she couldn’t even begin to verbalize what it felt like to watch Lena slip away, for their daily lunches and texts to dwindle down to nothing in weeks, for Kara to hear Lena apologetically say she just didn’t have the time to come to game night, even if Alex had gone out of her way to visit.

Kara told James about every big thing in her life, but she couldn’t talk about the biggest, and when she kissed him for the first time—the night he brought her Chinese and ice cream to cheer her up after she’d texted him to say that she hadn’t gotten the job at the Daily Planet like she wanted—she couldn’t help but think that it wouldn’t be right if she fell for him because she was rather sure Lena’s shadow would always hang over her.

But James was James, and when he kissed her back, she fell anyway.

It took months before Lena met James.

(It wasn’t weird that her best friend didn’t seem all that interested in meeting her boyfriend. It wasn’t strange that Winn took more interest in her love life than Lena, her best friend. It didn’t bother Kara at all that Alex flew in and spent a day with Kara and James before Lena even acknowledged that Kara had a boyfriend.

She was busy. Kara understood.)

Her tiny apartment—that she was barely able to afford with her meager salary from the café and the few random freelance articles she’d written—was full to the brim with only a handful of people. James was busy grabbing plates and glasses from the cupboard, chatting with Winn as he did so, discussing an article Clark had written with Lois. Lena and Alex were on the couch, arguing over bioethics concerns coupled with the rapid advancement in medicine. Kara leaned against the doorway, watching them for a moment, smiling at Alex’s impassioned speech for more regulation as well as Lena’s counterpoints that innovation could never be curbed.

It was nice, this moment. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten to witness Lena and Alex’s arguing, both of them throwing around words that eventually went over Kara’s head—even if she’d studied the sciences in college. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d gotten to see Lena’s wide smile.

Kara stiffened at the thought, at the longing she felt, and with a guilty glance back at James, she shuffled over to the window, opening it as far as it would go, and climbing through it, dropping down onto the metal fire escape. The cool night air calmed her somewhat, but not as much as the sounds of honking cars and indecipherable voices, the rattle of a train somewhere in the distance, the sound of music coming from one of the lower apartments.

“Oh, there you are,” James said, sticking his head out of the window and smiling. It was charming and cute and he was so perfect for her. She loved him so much. “I was wondering where you went off to, and there aren’t a lot of hiding placing in your apartment.” He smiled wider at his little joke, joining her on the fire escape, looking down at her like he always did: like she was the most important thing he’d ever seen. And Kara wondered if she was somehow broken, because she deserved this, she did. She deserved someone who would always be with her and always take her needs and wants into account. And yet…yet all she could think about was how James deserved better than her—that he offered more than she ever could, and she’d dragged him far enough behind her for it to be cruel and wrong.

“James, I—” She stopped when he shook his head, still smiling and still looking at her like she was the most important thing he’d ever seen, even as his eyes filled with understanding and his shoulders slumped with resignation.

“It’s Lena, isn’t it?” he asked, no real bitterness in his tone, just quiet acceptance. “I guessed, you know? From the start,” he explained, chuckling mirthlessly at her look of shock, leaning against the railing and turning to look up at the sky. “You avoided talking about her so much I knew you either hated her or loved her, and I don’t think you’re capable of hate. But I was sure when I saw you look at her tonight.”

“She’s my best friend,” Kara said haltingly, wanting to hug James or lean into his warmth or use his shoulder to steady herself, knowing that none of those things were appropriate anymore. “I thought I just needed—I thought if I…I don’t know what I thought.” She was quiet for a moment, choosing to look through the window and watch Winn join Alex and Lena’s debate, Winn saying something that made them all laugh. “Is it really so obvious?”

“For someone who’s looking for it? Yeah, it’s pretty obvious,” James told her, knocking his shoulder lightly with hers, prompting her to look at him. “You know, she feels the same way.”

No, Kara didn’t know, barely considered the possibility. But her heart thumped at the very thought.

“Even if she did, she’s…I don’t think she has the time for a relationship.”

“She’s your best friend, Kara,” James said, accepting her point easily. “If anyone knows her it’s you.”

She nodded, but boy, Kara didn’t think that was true anymore.

“Do you think that job in National City is still open?” she asked suddenly, avoiding his eyes when she noticed concern begin to flood his features.

“Kara,” he began, “I don’t know if running away is the answer.”

“It’s not running away. I’m—I thought I’d find something here. I thought being closer to Clark, being in Metropolis would help me find what I’m looking for. But it wasn’t. And Alex is in National City,” she tacked on at the end, as if it would settle the issue. In many ways it did though, and James knew it.

“It’s still running away,” he told her softly, not really arguing but just pointing out a truth. “If she’s your best friend, what are you so afraid of?”

(And oh leave it to James to get to the heart of the issue, to look at her and understand and not let her get away with deflections and excuses like Alex tended to. She was afraid. Of what, Kara wasn’t quite sure. Maybe that Lena wouldn’t feel the same way. Maybe that it would change something between them. Maybe that it would be the straw that broke the camel’s back and Lena’s flimsy presence in her life would disappear entirely.

Maybe it was just that every time Kara wanted to confess, she thought about how Lena didn’t believe in love at all and it broke her heart.)

“Are you upset with me?” Kara asked weakly instead of answering James, and though he gave her a look that clearly said he knew what she was doing, he indulged her anyway.

“No,” he answered, having paused long enough that Kara knew he’d put real thought into it, had searched his feelings for any hint of anger or bitterness, a slight tinge of surprise in his voice when he found none. “No, I knew what I was getting into, even if I hoped I was wrong. So it’s not like you led me on or anything.”

“I’m so sorry, James.”

“Don’t be,” he said, waving her off, his voice slightly gruff—like he was holding back some sort of emotion. “Can I just—would it be weird to ask one thing?” When she shook her head, James cleared his throat and averted his eyes. “If you met me before her, if you’d never met her at all—” He stopped, crossed his arms over his chest, and gave a firm shake of his head. “It doesn’t matter,” he said after a moment. “What ifs don’t matter.”

Kara studied him sadly, from the stiffness of his shoulders to the fixed smile on his lips, and she felt something in her break.

“Can we—can we just stay out here for a while?” she asked in a low voice, knowing that returning inside would make this all real, all permanent, would mean that there would never be any going back. And James—soft, kind, generous, and gentle—gave her a real smile before wrapping and arm around her shoulders and tugging her closer to him, his warmth shielding her from the nip of the night air, his presence as sturdy and strong as ever.

“However long you need, Kara,” he whispered into her hair.

And they stayed out there for what felt like ages before Alex came to collect them, brows furrowed and expression concerned.

She was still on her phone as she sat down across from Kara at the café she’d chosen—a fancy place Kara normally would never have stepped in under her own volition—but before Kara had the chance to feel annoyed, she shoved the phone away and smiled brilliantly at her, and things were fine again.

Until she spoke, at least.

“Kara! It’s been so long, I am so sorry, things at work just got—”

“I know, Lena. Lex put you in charge of R&D, that’s huge.”

(She tried not to sound bitter, but she was rather sure she mostly failed because Lena was looking at her oddly, hurt at Kara’s tone. But the thing was, Kara was furious. She only found out about Lena’s promotion through Clark and an article he’d written about LuthorCorp. Even worse, when he’d asked if she could get into contact with Lena and see if she would be willing to sit down for an interview—something that might’ve made Perry White see reason and give her another chance for an entry-level job at the Daily Planet—she’d gotten nothing in reply. Not even a text back.

She remembered a time when they couldn’t go two days without talking. Now they were going months without a single word between them.)

“Kara, are you—”

“I have news of my own,” Kara interrupted, smiling wide and knowing it likely seemed forced, knowing because it felt forced. “It’s why I was so insistent we get coffee.”

“Oh?” Lena asked, giving Kara that smirk she loved so much. “Did you get that job at the Tribune you wanted?”

Kara blinked.

“No. No, they turned me down nearly a year ago.” It had been one of the first jobs she’d applied to upon arriving at Metropolis. And though she’d thought Lena had been the one to bring her potstickers to cheer her up, she now realized that had been Clark and Lois, the two of them cheerfully tearing down everyone at the Tribune just to make her laugh.

(Had she just inserted Lena into her memory? Imagined her there to offer comfort because Lena had always been there before? Was she sick? She was rather sure there was an entire season of Grey’s Anatomy devoted to Izzie seeing things.)

“Oh,” Lena muttered, looking as shocked as Kara felt.

“It’s not a big deal,” Kara hastened to say, both not liking the look on Lena’s face or the dark path her thoughts were winding down.

“Isn’t it though? The next thing you’ll tell me is you married James.”

She was going for a joke, Kara knew that. But boy, did the comment hit her like a truck. For a moment, she could barely breathe.

“Actually,” she struggled to say, “we broke up a few months ago.”

“Kara,” Lena said, eyes now so wide that it was comical. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

Kara let out a loud and undignified laugh, but it was better than letting out the sob that threatened to break free.

“Alex said she thought you weren’t listening to your voicemails. Guess she was right.”

“I-I’ve been in the lab,” Lena stuttered through her shock. “I didn’t realize—I’ve been—Kara, I’m so—”

“It’s fine,” Kara stressed, waving off Lena’s pleas and smiling at her. “That’s not why I asked you to coffee either. You see, I did get a better job—”

“—that’s amazing, Kara, I had every confidence you would, you’ll make a wonderful reporter—”

“—as Cat Grant’s personal assistant,” Kara finished, speaking over Lena.

“Sorry, what?”

“Apparently Ms. Grant has gone through four assistants in four months. Clark and James think that if I can hold the job for a few years, I could move up. Get a job as a writer for Ms. Grant’s magazine.”

“That’s hardly hard-hitting journalism, Kara, it’s not what you wanted—”

“—no, but I have to be realistic. Perry White was never going to give me a job. CatCo might.”

“It’s in National City,” Lena pointed out suddenly, as if this would put an end to whatever argument they were having.

“I know. That was my second bit of news, actually.” She paused for effect. “I’m moving!”

Lena didn’t look as thrilled as Kara hoped she’d be.

“You’re what? When?”

“I’m moving,” Kara repeated, checking her watch surreptitiously. “Alex and I are making a road trip out of it. She flew in last night and we’re leaving in a few hours. She likes to drive at night.”

“You’re leaving? Tonight?” She looked hurt by that and Kara felt guilty for only a moment before her anger and frustration returned. (Never lie, never let issues fester—that was how they managed to never fight, for their arguments to get settled quickly and efficiently, without much hurt on either side. But Lena was lying and Kara was allowing issues to fester and she was rather sure the resulting implosion was inevitable. Needed, even.) “Why didn’t you say something sooner?”

“Why don’t you ever call me back?” Kara returned flatly, getting to her feet. “You’re my best friend, Lena. You always will be. But I’m unhappy here, moving to National City is a good choice for me.”

(It felt like they were breaking up. But that was ridiculous. They hadn’t been dating in the first place.

She idly wondered why no one had ever mentioned that losing your best friend hurt worse than losing a boyfriend.

She idly wondered if her position was unique because she was losing Lena.)

Lena got to her feet as well, and for a glorious moment Kara imagined a scenario in which Lena kissed her senseless, in which she grabbed Kara’s hands and fought to make her stay, in which she swore she’d stop being so distant, so faraway even in the moments they were together. But the moment passed quickly and Kara crashed down to reality when Lena only offered her a weak smile.

“Don’t lose touch, okay?” Lena said, playing with her watch and staring at the table. She made an awkward movement, almost like she wanted to pull Kara into a hug, but stopped halfway and just remained motionless. It would almost be funny if it wasn’t just so sad.

Kara ignored the question, gathered all her courage, and placed a soft and brief kiss on Lena’s cheek.

“Bye, Lena.”

(Lena didn’t chase her down as she left the coffee shop, didn’t find her huddled in an alleyway, wiping her cheeks furiously, didn’t even come by hours later, as Kara found every excuse to delay their trip National City and Alex continued to give her pitying looks.

And by the time they were on the highway, Kara staring out her window without speaking, that goodbye felt rather permanent.)

She rather thought that National City was good for the soul.

It was sunny in National City, the people seemed livelier, kinder, warmer. And even if Cat Grant was in one of her terrible moods—which she was in at least once a day, usually because someone from photography and layout had messed something up—Kara could always count on sticky buns from Noonan’s to cheer her right up. (Not Cat, obviously. Cat wouldn’t touch one of those buns with a ten-foot pole. No, the sweet was for Kara.)

She had Sister Night in National City, a job she usually adored and a goal she was determined to reach, an apartment she loved, and wonderful new friends.

Kara was happy.

Really.

“Kara, I’m watching that. Stop changing the channel.”

“Why do you need to watch the news, don’t you get enough of it from Maggie?”

(Another thing National City had? A chance for Kara to witness her sister’s happiness. She’d broken things off with Maggie sometime during medical school, but had run into the newly minted detective and things had apparently just…worked out. Alex was smiling all the time, and it was beautiful.)

“Just because you avoid everything that has to do with Lena—”

“—I don’t do that,” Kara denied, shaking her head quickly and vehemently.

“—doesn’t mean I shouldn’t do my research so that I can destroy her when she visits. She’s got to know her brother’s company does more harm than good.”

“Do you talk to her?” Kara found herself asking despite herself. It was stupid. She knew it would just hurt if Alex said yes and bum her out if Alex said no. It was a no-win situation and she hated herself for it.

“Only when she visits. And you know she always wants to see you too, but you keep acting surly.”

“Sorry if I expect my best friend to care about me more often than only when she’s in National City to oversee something at a branch of LuthorCorp.”

“You’re both ridiculous, I hope you know that,” Alex said happily, turning the television off once she noticed Kara’s grimace. “She’s your best friend.”

“She didn’t come after me.”

“You know she can’t run in heels,” Alex joked, and Kara struggled to keep her impassive expression, “that’s not her fault.”

“She hasn’t tried reaching out.”

“Because you’ve shut her out,” Alex countered, referring to the almost weekly trips Lena made to National City the first month after Kara moved. Each time, Kara had said she was busy with work and couldn’t get away, and Lena would leave with only a text goodbye.

And then those had stopped too, the visits. The calls and the texts became rare enough that it was almost as if they had stopped.

At times, Kara thought if it weren’t for the occasional press conferences Lena gave in her brother’s place, she wouldn’t have even known Lena was healthy and happy.

“Come on, Kara,” Alex continued, “you’re older than her, you’ve got to be the mature one.”

“I’m only older by three months!” Kara huffed, throwing herself onto the couch and staring hard at the ceiling. “Besides, distance is good. Great, even. More than necessary. We were too dependent on each other.”

“Right, and my hair is green,” Alex deadpanned, leaning over Kara and shaking her hair in Kara’s face, as if to show off her auburn locks. “For two smart people, you’re both being really stupid.”

“You’re being really mean. Like Ms. Grant mean, and that’s just sad, Alex.”

“Shut up and move over, if you’re not going to let me watch the news, you might as well put on a movie.”

Kara did as she was told, only half-heartedly listening to Alex’s running commentary on the film she’d put on, finally breaking after half an hour—much to Alex’s very obvious amusement.

“I miss her,” Kara admitted in a soft voice.

Alex’s expression fell, and she pulled Kara into a hug.

“Yeah, I know,” she said, voice full of something Kara couldn’t quite pinpoint. “Have you tried drawing her and puppies to feel better?”

“No ice cream for you,” Kara muttered while Alex apologized for her joke, but she was hiding a smile in Alex’s shoulder, so she supposed her sister wasn’t very sorry at all.

She’d begun to think something might be wrong when the name ‘Luthor’ appeared in the news more often than normal.

The family was always in some way making news. Whether it was funding research for a cure to a rare disease or a shady business deal with a foreign company, LuthorCorp and by extension the three Luthors in charge, was consistently in the public eye. It wasn’t always good, but it was never obviously bad, either.

Until, however, Lex seemed to go off the rails entirely.

It started slow, slow enough that at first Kara didn’t even notice in between watching news clips while waiting for Ms. Grant’s coffee. There was an odd article about abnormal contracts with weapon manufacturers. Then, there was a report or two about odd—if not outright strange—transactions with certain individuals that any wise businessman wouldn’t touch.

About a year after Kara moved to National City, the Daily Planet published an explosive article that LuthorCorp was secretly funding a weapon production program and selling said weapons to various third parties.

Six months after that, Lex was arrested on a vast array of charges, Lillian Luthor stepped away from the company, and Lena was named CEO and took on the brunt of the backlash as LuthorCorp basically went up in flames.

And for the first time in about eight months, Kara heard from Lena:

Clark did all the legwork for the article.

And well, Kara was quite familiar with the sensation of her family members destroying things she loved, and it didn’t come as a shock at all.

Kara eyed her new office apprehensively, leaning against the far wall and staring at her empty desk with her arms crossed tightly against her chest. She was thrilled, she was, she’d been eyeing a job like this since she arrived in National City, but now that she had it….

It was a little anticlimactic. She’d called Alex and her sister had been appropriately overjoyed for her, as were Eliza and Jeremiah, and yet something felt missing. Something felt wrong.

(She stared at her phone, at the news notifications about LuthorCorp’s move to National City and their planned rebranding, and she tried to pretend that had nothing to do with how she felt at this moment.

She tried and she failed.)

“Ready for lunch?” Alex asked from behind her, eyes kindly averted, choosing to stare at her nails instead of the look of panic that quickly took over Kara’s expression when she continued scrolling through the articles and stopped at what must have been the most recent photo of Lena, looked ragged and annoyed as she shoved her way past reporters to get into her building here in National City.

The caption below the photo wasn’t flattering.

“Have you seen her yet?” Kara asked, knowing Maggie was waiting for them at some vegan restaurant, wanting to celebrate Kara’s promotion. Alex continued to stare at her nails and Kara continued to think that was rather kind of her.

“Why? Will my answer change what you plan on doing?”

“What do you think I’m planning on doing?”

“Honestly?” Alex asked, finally looking up and eyeing Kara critically. “I think you’re going to keep pretending you’re not missing her.” She hooked her arm through Kara’s and dragged her out of the empty office, pulling her towards the elevators. “When you wanted to leave Metropolis, I was glad. I hated seeing you waste your life away in a coffee shop just because you wanted to be near Lena.” As the elevator doors slid shut, Alex leaned heavily into Kara’s side, head resting on her shoulder. “You were right. You did need to learn to live your own separate life from Lena, but now that you have, just go see your best friend. She needs you.”

“What about the vegan restaurant? Maggie is waiting,” Kara protested, resisting weakly when Alex tugged her into CatCo’s lobby and then out into the street. “We were going to celebrate.”

“Don’t act like you’re not excited to miss out on this restaurant,” Alex said with a laugh, pressing a quick kiss to Kara’s cheek, a halfhearted attempt to make sure there were no hard feelings between them. “Go home, Kara. Think about what you’re planning. Then go see Lena.” Then, without giving Kara a chance to argue, Alex shoved her lightly in the direction of her apartment and then turned on her heel, walking briskly away in the opposite direction.

And Kara went home, fully intending to drown all her doubts and sorrows in a pint (or two) of ice cream.

Or at least, what was what she intended. She never really got the chance; by the time she’d changed into her comfort pajamas, a thick blanket thrown over her shoulders, and was digging through her freezer for that ‘rainy day’ ice cream, there was a knock on her door. Grumbling and annoyed, because of course Alex wouldn’t trust her enough to believe she would actually listen to her sister’s advice (for good reason, she supposed, considering her current state), Kara practically stalked towards her door, throwing it open with more force than necessary, eyes pressed tightly shut.

“Alex, you need to let me have my night to mope, can’t your lecture wait until tomorrow?”

“I’m sorry,” said someone with a voice that decidedly didn’t belong to Alex. “It’s a bad time, this was a bad idea, I shouldn’t have come.”

Kara’s eyes flew open, and before her visitor had the chance to step back, Kara had reached out for a hug—it was instinct, it was habit, it was just what she did. And when she got her hug back, mismatched edges seemed to finally slot into place, and Kara felt like she could breathe again.

“It’s always a good time for you,” Kara said into Lena’s ear, unable to help her wide grin.

“Come on, Lena. Feel the burn! Enjoy the burn! If it hurts, that’s how you know it’s working!” Kara called over to Lena, watching her struggle with mild amusement. She’d suggested morning jogs as a joke initially, but Lena had taken to the idea with surprising eagerness, something Kara was rather sure she regretted now, in between all the heaving breaths and the sweaty hair. She wondered if Lena still thought it was a good way for them to rebuild their friendship.

“I…can’t…believe…” Lena managed to say between gasps, bending over with her hands on her knees and head practically in her chest. “…people…do this for…fun.”

“I could carry you on the way back if you like.”

“This isn’t a joke, Kara,” Lena said, looking over at her with narrowed eyes. “You killed me. I’m dead. Say goodbye to the last sane Luthor, please don’t let my obituary be too embarrassing.” She straightened as she spoke, stretching out her back and arms and Kara was a little bit distracted to immediately respond.

“Don’t say that,” she finally found the voice to admonish. “Of course your obituary will be embarrassing. I’ll write about the time we snuck into the art room to fix an assignment you’d already made a perfect on.”

“I didn’t know it’d already been graded, Kara,” Lena said, not looking particularly glad that this had been brought up. Kara wondered if she remembered the way they’d giggled as they escaped the school building, tangling pinkies and swearing they’d never bring it up again. “It was ugly, what sort of person gives perfect marks on something so ugly?”

“Well, I thought you were adorable,” Kara said without thinking, grimacing as she registered her own words, “I mean—not adorable, but um, adorably criminal.”

“It was my Luthor genes shining through,” Lena joked, winking when Kara rolled her eyes. “I’m ready to go now, you don’t have to go so slow because of me,” she added when Kara jogged in place, staring out into the park—looking at the couple walking their dog and the old woman sitting on a bench reading the newspaper. Kara laughed, listening to Lena’s heavy breathing, and shook her head.

“Oh shucks, look at that, my shoes are untied,” Kara said in mock surprise, leaning down and untying her shoelaces before taking her time to tie them up again. She took extra care in making sure everything was tight, going as far as to untie and retie her right shoe—just in case. And when she looked back up, Lena was staring at her with a mix of fondness and confusion.

“Back in Metropolis,” she began.

“Lena, I don’t—”

“—I avoided you. I wasn’t working all the time, I could’ve seen you more often but I…” she trailed off, frowning. “And I didn’t realize how much that could hurt until you avoided me. When you left. And I’m sorry.”

“Why were you avoiding me?”

Lena blinked, looking like she hadn’t expected the question, but surely she should have. She’d brought it up, she made it a point to apologize. Of course Kara would want more explanation.

“How about a race?” Lena suggested, ignoring Kara’s question completely. “First one to the gate gets to choose breakfast?”

Kara’s grin was her only reply.

(Needless to say, she won the race. They ended up with sticky buns and coffee from Noonan’s, Kara regaling Lena with horror stories about needing pick-me-ups at all hours, depending on Cat Grant’s mood.

And the entire time her thoughts were a million miles away, wondering what would make Lena avoid her in the first place.)

“You know,” Lena said in between mouthfuls of pizza, “I never thought I’d say this, but reporters aren’t so bad.” She took a sip of her wine—the charm and sophistication of the action lost on Kara as Lena was drinking her wine out of a plastic cup—and smiled benignly. “There’s even one reporter I’d go as far as to say I like.”

“Oh really? Let me guess. She’s a dazzling cub reporter at CatCo. Golden hair, dazzling blue eyes, impeccable fashion taste?” Kara asked, grinning and pointing at herself exaggeratedly, not quite appreciating Alex’s snort or Maggie’s not-so-subtle shake of her head. She opened her mouth to tell off her sister and her sister’s girlfriend, but before she could, Lena smiled softly and derailed all of Kara’s thought processes.

“Well, I was going to say Lois Lane, but yes, you’re a close second.”

“A—a close second? To Lois?” Kara spluttered indignantly, mouth falling open in offense. “Was she the one to write stories about the phoenix-like rebirth of L-Corp and the CEO that spearheaded its rise? No. That was me. All me.”

“But that corruption article—” Lena said, not even bothering to hide her laughter as Kara stared at her in betrayal. “I’m joking,” she said when Kara went as far as to push her plate of pizza away, leaning back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest. Alex snorted again. “Your articles are wonderful, I’m so grateful for them, Kara.”

“I didn’t write them as a favor,” Kara mumbled, turning her head and glaring at Alex, daring her to let out another snort. “I wrote them because it’s the truth. You rebuilt LuthorCorp from the ground up. You should be proud of yourself.”

“Ugh,” Alex cried, throwing her hands up in the air. “Come on, Maggie, that’s our cue to leave. They’re going to be gross again. Compliments thrown back and forth, no you hang up first,” she tacked on in an affected voice.

“You don’t give me any compliments,” Maggie said, almost petulantly, while Kara found herself unable to do much more than open and close her mouth repeatedly, no response ready on her lips.

“Shh, Maggie, it’s okay. It’s their foreplay.” Alex grabbed her girlfriend’s hand and dragged her out of the apartment, leaving Kara and Lena alone at the table.

“So,” Lena said, sipping calmly from her plastic cup of wine, “when do you think Alex will remember this is her apartment?”

“Doesn’t matter, I’m going to steal all her vinyls.” She paused her plotting and stared at Lena thoughtfully. “Is Lois really your favorite reporter?”

“Of course not,” Lena scoffed, waving a hand, as charming, clever, and confident at twenty-eight as she’d been at eight years old, merely amplified by the years that had passed, still managing to leave Kara in awe with nothing but a smile. “You’re always my favorite, Kara. In everything.” The words brought her heart to a thudding stop. Her eyes were fixed on Lena’s lips.

(She was going to do it. She was going to stand and lean in, she was going to settle that voice in her head and that thrumming in her chest once and for all. She would know, know for sure how Lena felt, all she had to do was be brave in this single moment—gather all her courage and ask onesimple question, hope to whatever was out there that Lena would nod, would say yes, would dispel of words entirely and close the distance between them.

She was going to do it, she was going to do it.)

The door swung back open and Kara was rooted to her seat.

“Can you believe Alex forgot this was her apartment?” Maggie laughed as she approached the table, frowning as she took in Kara’s face and then Lena’s. “Are you two okay? You both look like you saw a ghost.”

“F-fine,” Kara stammered, tearing her eyes away from Lena’s lips and forcing a smile. “I just said I was going to steal all of Alex’s vinyls.”

“I heard that!” Alex called from the door, letting it swing shut behind her. “But you know, if you do manage to pull it off, it might even outdo the roof thing. But nothing can top the Paint Incident,” she tacked on dreamily.

Maggie and Lena laughed, familiar with both stories, and Kara sighed, unable to help it when her gaze flicked briefly over to Lena.

She felt her courage fade, felt the moment slip past her fingertips, and she couldn’t help but sigh. But when she did, it wasn’t Alex who looked at her quizzically and in worry. She was too busy rolling her eyes at something Maggie was saying. Instead, it was Lena who looked at her in concern, eyes wide and pleading—wordlessly asking if she was okay, back in sync for the first time in years.

(At the very thought, Kara felt much of that courage race right back.)

It was very late or very early, Kara wasn’t quite sure which, and she and Lena were lounging on the couch in Lena’s office, leaning heavily on each other, Lena’s work long forgotten. It’d been quite some time that they’d had nights (mornings?) like this, Lena calling her because she felt her world spiraling, and Kara the only one who could stop the spinning for even a moment. Sometimes there were tears, more often there was total silence, Lena tightly grasping her hand until Kara couldn’t feel her fingers anymore.

This morning (last night?), Lena had just buried her face in Kara’s shoulder, not saying a word for hours as Kara rubbed her back and muttered nonsense under her breath just hoping to ease whatever Lena was dealing with this time.

“Do you remember Jack?” Lena asked suddenly, bringing up her ill-fated whirlwind romance from their last year in college without prompting. Kara nodded hesitantly, wincing a little internally as she thought about all the anger she’d directed towards such a perfectly decent guy, wondering if she should call him up one day and apologize—admit she’d been jealous and she’d really had nothing against him. Then again, to admit that to Jack would mean she’d first have to admit those feelings to Lena, and she wasn’t quite sure if that would ever happen—at least, if her track record was any indication. “I really wanted things to work out with him. Thought if I could focus on him and my studies, I could forget about everything else.”

Kara’s breath hitched and she swallowed hard. Admittedly, it hurt to hear Lena say something like that. Because around that same time, Kara was feeling lost, had needed her best friend, and had been left unmoored and aimlessly floating away from shore in Lena’s absence. It hurt to hear that Lena’s distance had been intentional.

“Okay.”

“Are you going to ask why?”

“Would you answer?”

“I don’t know,” Lena admitted softly, tucking her head more comfortably under Kara’s chin.

“Why did you lie about where you were going for Christmas?” Kara asked instead, voice barely a whisper, unsure even now if she should bring it up. Lena stiffened slightly, then inhaled deeply, relaxing just as suddenly.

“My mother told me she wanted to make up, start over. She told me she knew she strained our relationship and wanted to fix it.”

“Did she?”

“No. As it turned out, she just wanted me to spy on Lex for her.” Lena cleared her throat and pulled away from Kara, shifting so that she was sitting on the very edge of the couch. “Besides, after working at LuthorCorp for a few months after graduation, it was obvious Lex was up to something, and it was obvious she was trying to hide his mess for him. She was just trying to use me as a pawn—I was disposable, you see.”

“You’re not disposable,” Kara immediately argued, not sure if she liked the way Lena laughed in response—like she found the comment inherently flawed, but couldn’t bring herself to explain just how wrong Kara was.

“I’m not sad, Kara,” Lena explained gently, shrugging when Kara looked at her in disbelief. “I’m not.” She shrugged again, seemingly not caring that Kara had been rendered speechless. “I’ve known what my mother is my whole life.” Her head tilted to the side, and she studied Kara so intently for a moment that Kara was sure she was reading every single secret Kara had buried away deep in her heart for safekeeping. “But then you just waltzed in one afternoon and forced my dad to take a stand.” She reached out and took Kara’s hand, squeezing tightly, eyes showing no hint of melancholy. And it was a beautiful sight. “I’m not sad, because whatever my mom has done, I’ve always known I had you.” She smiled then, something changing in her expression, something Kara sometimes saw in her own reflection. “You saved me from the day I met you. But it wasn’t till that afternoon that I realized you were my hero.”

“I’m not a hero. I’m just…me.”

“You’re my hero,” Lena said, grinning when Kara gave her another disbelieving look, finding it difficult to ignore the pounding of her heart, though she was giving it a valiant attempt. “Can I ask a question now?”

“Of course.”

“Why did you leave Metropolis?”

(And oh Kara felt her courage fail her at this critical moment. She felt it escape her in a flood, a mass exodus of bravery in the face of such overwhelmingly terrifying prospects. Because an admission could lead to reciprocation. It could lead to a moment she’d imagined again and again and again. Or it could lead to horrifying and awkward rejection, a friendship she treasured and missed dearly when it was out of reach—when it felt shattered beyond repair—becoming lost forever.

And oh Kara stared at Lena and she found she’d brave any enemy, any storm, any short, grubby, sniffling bully if only it meant she’d have a chance to keep Lena in her life.)

“It’s hard to get over someone when they’re in the same city as you,” she found herself saying, a non-answer that she thought said entirely too much. (Be brave, she thought. Be brave.)

“You and James were really good for each other,” Lena nodded, and it was the way she looked at the ground, the way she released Kara’s hand, the way she swallowed, the way her eyes grew sad that Kara finally, finally, saw what Alex had seen, what James had seen, what even gross Mike had seen. “It makes sense that he’s hard to get over,” Lena added, a pinched expression on her face, one that Kara caught even if most of Lena head was turned away.

(Be brave, she thought. Be brave.)

“Actually, Lena,” Kara began slowly, heart racing, “I wasn’t talking about James.” Lena turned to her in shock, eyes wide, and of course Kara began to ramble, stomach swooping up and down and feeling as if the blood rushing through her veins was on fire. “He was wonderful. He is wonderful, I mean. But he’s not wonderful for me. Does that make sense? I mean, he’s perfect. But it’s really hard to love someone the right way when you’re in love with someone else and I—”

“I was jealous of James!” Lena blurted, apparently quite surprised by her own interruption. “I couldn’t—I didn’t want to hear about him. I’d be jealous of anyone you were with. So I avoided you, because I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t know if I could hide how I felt—”

“—I hated Jack,” Kara confessed. “And that girl from France, the one you met before we started college, I hated her on principle, and James told me I’m not capable of hate, but they had you and I hated them and—”

Lena interrupted her again, this time by grabbing her face and pulling her forward, her lips on Kara’s making it quite difficult to talk at all. It was awkward and needy and full of a pent-up sort of want and it made Kara’s head spin, it fried all her nerves, it left her permanently incapable of any sort of rational thought. Because Lena—her best friend, Lena—was kissing her.

“Wait, wait,” Kara said suddenly, pulling away from Lena’s kisses, unable to help her smile at Lena’s groan, “so are you anti-love?” Lena’s eyes, which had been closed, opened lazily, and she blinked at Kara in confusion, seemingly unsure what they were talking about. “You said you didn’t believe in love,” Kara elaborated, feeling her ears heat up because as far as she knew, she’d admitted she loved Lena, but Lena had just admitted feelings, and what if she was making a fool of herself, reading too much into one kiss—even if said kiss was as singularly mind-blowing as Lena’s?

“I was nineteen,” Lena admitted softly, and she reached out with a hesitant hand, brushing a stray lock of hair out of Kara’s face and then cupping her cheek, thumb rubbing idle patterns into her skin. Kara felt rather than directed her eyes to flutter shut, felt rather than directed her head to lean into Lena’s hand. “I was bitter because I’d fallen for my best friend and I didn’t think she’d ever feel the same way.”

“So not temporary and finicky?”

“Not in my experience, no.”

“You know, if you hadn’t said that, if you’d just waited ten seconds, I was going to tell you how I felt that day.”

Lena didn’t answer for so long that Kara opened her eyes, only to be met with impossibly soft eyes.

“That’s okay,” Lena said finally, leaning forward to press her forehead against Kara’s. “I sort of like how our story ended up anyway.” And when Lena closed the last of the distance between them, pulling Kara into another kiss (being brave never felt so good), Kara couldn’t help but agree.

The next time they all got together, Kara and Lena were holding hands and sneaking not-so-sneaky kisses and gazing adoringly at each other, and upon seeing it, Alex first pretended to gag before she laughed uproariously, demanded champagne in celebration, and told anyone who’d listen that she’d called it from the day she found out that Kara alternated her time between drawing puppies and Lena.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #old

399 notes · View notes

imagine-jjba · 4 years

Note

Here's another ask! How about some student headcanons for Josuke, Koichi, Okuyasu, & Jotaro? ^^ for example, what kind of habits or quirks do you think they'd have while studying? Also - Another amazing one! Seriously, I'm gonna end up reading all of your works in one night from how lovely they are 😭 I hope I can provide a variety of asks instead of repetitive ones lol !

student headcanons!

hi! thank you for another lovely ask! i’m glad you enjoy my works! not sure if i should make any of these shippy with reader, but i’ll try to include the reader into these! also, i hope you can forgive me for sending in the last one later. truth be told, i thought i finished it and posted it earlier. but it seems that i didn’t finish it, so i did that and posted it. the original thing was supposed to come out much earlier than it did. i’m so sorry for that!

anyway, here’s your student headcanons with josuke, koichi, okuyasu, and jotaro! i’m sorry if some of them are too short for your liking!

@bijoucupid

josuke ;

when he gets to school, he’s always looking for either you or okuyasu, if he hasn’t walked to school with him that day (though, that’s on a rare occasion). he’s very excited to meet up with his friends.

things are very different compared to when he meets you and okuyasu at school. when he meets oku, he’s loud and rambunctious, always wanting to mess around with him and have fun. however, with you, he’s more gentlemanly (thank you for passing that trait down to him, jonathan!) and softer. he wants to give you the impression that he’s cool.

after he meets up with either one of you, he’ll go to his classes. he’s always bored in them, so he spends his free time making small doodles of whatever his mind can think of. sometimes, he can even blank out and doodle random scribbles before realizing that he was doing that.

he’s not very good at note-taking, to be perfectly honest. he’s good at it when he wants to be, but the thing is, he’s normally either too bored or lazy to take notes. he’d be getting better grades than average if he did the notes and paid more attention!

josuke’s pencil case is simple, yet neat and only full of essentials. a pencil, pen, eraser, and a highlighter. everything else, he hasn’t bothered with bringing. he’s satisfied that it isn’t too heavy, though.

he has a certain degree of dislike for school. he’d rather be spending his time with his friends, you, or playing video games at home. though, while he’s stuck at school, his favorite normal school activity are gym classes! he loves being able to participate in the fun sports that they set up. even if he’s good at the sports, he really doesn’t have any time to join an actual team.

he’s also very popular with the girls, even the teachers at his school. they always compliment him, especially his hair. the teachers love to say that he’s a good kid and that he should continue his studies. of course, he’s always very nice to him since they are his elders.

you can normally find him during lunch being surrounded by girls. he doesn’t mind the attention, but if it gets to be too much, he’ll get embarrassed that he’s causing a scene. especially if they’re trying to gain his attention while you’re around! he wants to be intimate and spend time with you while he can find the time to!

once the girls are finally shooed away and josuke has some space to himself, he’ll usually go find where his group of friends are. usually, it’ s just okuyasu since koichi was stolen away by yukako, but every once in a while, he’ll find the couple with okuyasu.

when it’s just him and his best pal, he’ll often talk about the new video games that he knows are coming out. or maybe play some card games with him. whatever keeps them having fun and busy, really. they love to share their interests with each other.

when the whole group is together, they’ll often talk about new stands that have come into the town, whatever they can all talk about and actually have interest in equally.

when he’s with you, however, he’ll want to spend it completely alone. he likes to take you either outside or to an empty classroom where you two can laugh and share your meals together. it always feels like a little date that you improvised together, but it’s always fun.

after the end of the day, he’ll walk home and settle down to play video games. however, tomoko stops him after an hour and makes him do his homework. he hates it, but it really needs to get done.

when he’s studying at home, his mind tend to wander off, but he’s able to pull it back quickly and focus more on the homework. he’s usually wondering what he should do after studying, what his friends/you are doing, or if he should help his mom cook.

his notes are a bit messy, but it’s nothing too bad! it’s just like the average student��s notes! he’s very diligent and to the point with them, but there’s always unrelated doodles on the side of them.

also, when doing projects, he’s very lazy with them. normally, he does the minimum amount to get a decent grade and nothing else. all he really cares about is his friends, but at least he’s putting in some effort.

he’ll usually wait until the last day to finish his project, spending all nighters if he has to. he usually regrets them, but that never stops his ways.

during a group project, however, he doesn’t want be seen as lazy or a “slacker,” so he’ll get his part done as early as possible and let his other group members take care of their parts. if he sees one of them struggling, he’ll even ask if they need help!

overall, he’s an average student. he doesn’t like school, but won’t mind it if it’s something that needs to be done.

koichi ;

koichi is a very intelligent student, first and foremost. he’ll do his work on time and turn it in as early as possible. he wants to work hard to not disappoint those around him.

when he gets to school, he’ll usually try to get to his classroom so that he can have some alone time from the chaos he knows the day will be, but yukako always manages to capture him before. they y’all for a little bit before they have to get to classes.

when he’s in his class, he tries very hard to pay attention. he’ll listen to everything the teacher says and write it down as quickly and neatly as possible, so that he can read over his notes at a later time and understand them.

he’s one of those students that goes overboard with what supplies they have. he carries around many things that he may never even end up using! but, still, he needs to be prepared. this own pencil case holds many things that either you, yukako, or his mother may have suggested to put in.

during lunch, he’ll want to eat with some of his friends, but is normally dragged away by yukako who insists to eat alone together. he’s fine with it and all, but he’d like to spend at least one moment with his friends! he loves her, though, so he’ll go along with whatever she has planned for that lunch.

when he finally gets his time with the students of the dwang gang, he likes to mainly listen in on the conversations that everyone is having. he doesn’t have much to input into a conversation. somethings, he doesn’t even know about. but he likes to listen to others opinions about things.

he’s not considered a popular kid, but he does have people who enjoy him and his company. he’s known by kids in his class, but he’s much less notiable than josuke. a moderate amount of popularity!

koichi is also considered a teacher’s pet, doing many things for them and listening to them. he’s mature enough to get the teacher’s attention and gain their trust. he uses it very wisely.

at the end of the day, he’ll head home and immediately do his homework. he doesn’t want to accidentally take a nap and forget to do it, so he’ll do it right as he comes home as a “just in case” scenario.

his teachers say many praises and good things about him! he’s very reliable and likable to them. though, they do say that he’s nervous about speaking up in class.

this is true, actually! he’s somewhat socially anxious when he has to present things. he tends to over complicate things and make them more than they seem. when he’s presenting in front of the class, he’ll be much quieter and shy, but will try to give as much confidence as he can muster up.

his notes are very intricate and detailed. he uses different colored highlighters in his notes to signify what exactly each important note is. he also has nice handwriting.

when reviewing and studying his notes at home, he usuall has a straight forward plan for them. he’ll review the notes and look over them once before hiding them and quizzing himself. if he gets the answer right, he’ll move onto the next question. however, if he gets the answer wrong, he’ll study it and look over it carefully before trying again.

he loves individual projects! he loves to put his own creativity into whatever he does in his projects. usually, he can’t express those ideas as well when he’s in a group. he’ll love to pitch idea with them, though.

overall, koichi is a great student, very exemplorary and a good example to a lot of students who could use a little push in schooling.

okuyasu ;

okuyasu has a fond dislike of school. he’s not very smart, nor does he remember to do most of his work. though, his friends are always there to help him get back on track with his studies!

when he first gets to school, he’ll always be looking for josuke. he loves hanging out with him almost everyday. but he’ll also be looking for you when the thought comes to mind. he also loves spending his time with you, even more so tham his best pal josuke.

if he meets up with you first, he’s like a puppy craving affection. he’ll always be by yourself and wanting to hold your hand, which you allow. it’s so weird how he managed to get someone like you by his side, especially like this, but it’s something that he would never regret.

if he meets up with josuke, he’ll laugh along with him and talk to him about whatever was up with him. if nothing new had changed, he’ll say so and move onto a different topic. however, if something in his life changed, he’ll talk all about it in his usually funny ways. he’s very expressive with his body.

in class, he usually gets bored. it’s very noticeable on his face. sometimes, he can even fall asleep during the boring lessons and lectures that the teacher gives. he’ll get scolded for falling asleep, of course. but he really hates listening to them and would rather do anything else.

he never takes notes in class, only when he’s practically forced to. when he does take notes, it’s very rushed and scribbled down as fast as possible. he never thinks about studying this sort of stuff after school. after all, who needs it when you’ve got cool friends?!

he’s always playing with something on his desk, usually with the pencil that he sometimes brings to school. other times when he does forget it, he’ll play with the paper that the teacher has given him. if there’s a will, there’s a way, as everyone constantly says and knows. and there is a will to be distracted from class, that’s for sure!

his favorite period of the day is lunch, of course! he’s normally packed a nice lunch with him. though, it’s never usually enough. he’s always hungry even after his meal, trying to see if any of his friends are full and don’t want their meals.

he only really enjoys going to school because he gets to have fun with his friends. he loves them and would protect them with his life, just like he’s done in the past.

when he gets home from school, he never really does his work unless one of his friends help him. he’s not good at it, but he still wants to pass his grade! he isn’t really sure how he even made it up to this point without his friends help!

he’s totally not popular with most people. they think he’s not good looking or smart enough to hang around with. it’s a bad stigma to be around, but he really doesn’t mind it. just as long as he has his good few friends, he’s alright with any insults that are thrown his way. though, that doesn’t mean he won’t want to fight back. he just chooses not to.

he’s also really jealous of josuke sometimes, how many girls get to go up to him. but then again, he has an amazing partner like you. he wouldn’t trade anything in the world for you, so he’s glad that he doesn’t get much attention from anyone like that.

he never studies, not unless it’s woth friends. by himself, he tries to, but he ends up getting too distracted and does something else with his time instead. his mind doesn’t focus on one thing so easily.

he loves doing group projects. they motivate him so much to get the work done, especially when he sees his friends working around him. he’ll mostly follow their lead and work as much and as hard as he can.

sadly, though, individual projects aren’t the same. he’s always confused and always asks help from his friends, leading the project inevidibly turning into a grouo effort.

his teachers say nice things about his personality, but that’s about it. you can tell that they don’t expect much from okuyasu, but whatever good things that do come from him, they celebrate it in their own ways. they always commend him for being such a nice young man once you get to know him, however.

overall, he’s a much better person than a student. he’d rather do anything besides school work and isn’t too good with it, but with the help of his friends, he feels as though he can do anything! he also loves you very much.

jotaro ;

jotaro is a different story, really. he doesn’t know what to do in his high school years, always going back and forth between the idea of being a marine biologist and whatever else. he doesn’t know what’s in store for his future just yet.

regardless of not knowing that, he still tries his best to keep up with the work. even though he’s more of a delinquent than any of the young members of the dwang gang could ever be, he still manages to get exceptionally good grades. he’s actually one of the most intelligent in his classes!

throughout his high school years, he didn’t have many friends. the “friends” that he had, before the events of hunting dio down, had mostly abandoned him due to how scary and intimidating he seemed.

after, however, he did seem to have a reliable friend and a partner. you were always by his side and he could never ask for anything more, even if that is cheesy to admit.

he can always be found doing things that he’s not allowed to do in school. but he does them anyway. honestly, no one in the family knows why he turned out to be a delinquent after being such a cute child (from what family pictures holly had shown you). maybe it was him just going through a phase.

in class, he’s quiet, yet intimidating. he doesn’t take notes, as he knows that it would make him seem a little less cool. then again, you’re in his class and already know that he knows most of this stuff. he’s a dork for knowledge, after all. he loves learning, ironically!

when lunch comes around, he’s always hanging around with you. he’ll eat his lunch while trying to make sure that you’re safe, even when there isn’t any threat of anyone or anything around. he’s paranoid most of the time. though, after going to egypt, you guess that he has a right to be anxious.

he always does his homework when he comes home, only after his welcome home kisses (he’s embarrassed about it and will never say that he even gets them, let alone enjoy them.) and a snack from holly. for him, it’s fairly simple to do. he always manages to turn it in, even if he skips a class or something similar to that. you wonder how he’s able to do it sometimes. maybe with the help of star platinum? you have no idea.

everyone and their grandmothers also know that he’s very popular, particularly with women. they’re always trying to talk to him and gain his attention. though, he could really care less about them. it’s irritating to him, but they never seem to leave, even if he yells at them to go away. maybe they’re just immune to his threats.

he studies a lot at home. though, it’s about more advanced subjects. he has books upon books of study material, things that you don’t even know anything about yet. but when you come over, you’re always eager to learn about what he’s up to with those books.

when it comes to projects, he’s not the best at them. he doesn’t care for things like that. he only really cares about the grade, so he tries to make it simple and come up with a decent design. not very creative, but it’s something.

people would usually just offer to do the work for him in group projects. he knows that it’s because they think that he would beat them up if he didn’t make them do the work. or it’s because they’re genuinely nice people. he really doesn’t care, letting them do whatever they want.

his teachers don’t say too much about him, mostly in fear of him. of course, he won’t do anything to them, they’re his elders and that wouldn’t be respectful at all. he would just give them looks at the most. they do, however, think that he’s a very smart student and has potential for great things.

in college, he’s much more careful with his studies. this is the part that counts towards his degree in marine biology, after all. he needs to be perfect at everything he does in college.

he’s a good student in college, almost never missing a class and genuinely interested in the topics that are spoken about. he loves learning about all the different sciences and how to study a certain type of aquatic plant or animal.

sometimes, when coming up with his own scientific experiments, he��ll ask you to help him out. of course, you accept with open arms and help him to the best of your abilities. though, he wants you to be precise and orderly. it’s a bit hard to keep up with him!

generally, in high school, he’s mostly seen as a delinquent. but to you, he’s just a real big dork that loves learning. he’s very interested in sciences, specifically marine biology and later on, plans to make that his degree in college.

#jjba imagines #jjba #jojos #jojo #jojo’s bizarre adventure #jojo kimyou na bouken #imagines #character imagines #headcanons #student headcanons #students #josuke higashikata #josuke higashikata x reader #okuyasu nijimura #okuyasu nijimura x reader #koichi hirose #jotaro kujo #jotaro kujo x reader

156 notes · View notes

pikapeppa · 4 years

Text

Solavellan smut: Three Times

The final chapter of Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This is up on AO3! In which @elbenherzart‘s Nare Lavellan and Solas FINALLY fall into bed together. FINALLY.

It’s quite long that’s what she said; >10k words. Do people like chapters of this length being posted in full on Tumblr? Either way, it’s on AO3 as well.

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

Going to Nare’s quarters was a foolish idea.

Solas padded silently up the stairs. With every step he took, he told himself he ought to turn around. He ought to go back to the rotunda and sink his focus into the pile of tomes on his desk. He ought to be learning more about the use and misuse of magic in this world so he could dismantle his most egregious mistake as painlessly as possible.

But his bare feet kept carrying him forward, and he continued making his way up the stairs to Nare’s quarters.

It was strange, that: to think that these familiar steps to that familiar spacious bedroom now belonged to Nare, not to him. It wasn’t that Solas was sorry to pass this legacy on to her, not by any means; he had done all that he could with Tarasyl’an Te’las. It was only fitting that any further memories to embed themselves in these ancient stones would be created by the woman who unwittingly bore his mark.

The same woman whose torrid taste still lingered in his mind.

A pulse of lust dropped into his belly like a gulp of hot soup, and Solas paused on the stairs. It had been several hours since Nare had spread her legs for him on the desk in the basement library, hours since he had gloried in the softness of her lips and the perfect canvas of her skin, and still he was incapable of ejecting the thoughts of her from his mind.

He ought to turn around. He ought to return to the rotunda and to his studies.

For a suspended moment of time, Solas stood unmoving on the stairs, paralyzed by the weight of what he knew he ought to do. Then his feet kept carrying him up the steps.

A minute later, he knocked on the door to Nare’s bedroom. When she opened the door a second later, the smile that bloomed across her face was a mixture of relief and nerves that made his heart ache.

“Solas!” she breathed. “Come on in.” She hurried up the final set of stairs into the bedroom, and Solas followed her at a more sedate pace.

He looked around surreptitiously as he stepped into the bedroom proper. The decor was… far different than it had once been. The hearth was in the same place, but Solas had kept his bed on the upper level. And here on the lower level, he had once had a small waterfall that flowed into a tidy little pond and then back up to feed the waterfall itself. It was an elegant and admittedly frivolous piece of magic that fed itself on a perpetual loop, a little project that he’d painstakingly constructed on a particularly lonely night, and it was the one indulgence he had permitted himself to keep throughout the ages. Even when the war against the Evanuris had grown so terrible that he was barely able to spend any time in the privacy of this room, the waterfall had remained intact: an attempt at keeping some peace somewhere, despite the increasing ferocity of the war.

Now, the miniature waterfall was gone, destroyed like every other subtle work of magic that the Veil had sundered. In its place was a bed: Nare’s bed, made up with simple but comfortable-looking coverlets in shades of aqua and seafoam-green. And standing at the foot of the bed was Nare herself.

Her expression was apprehensive. Solas tilted his head. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“Are you staying?” she said bluntly.

He raised his eyebrows. “I beg your pardon?”

She winced. “I – damn it.” She rubbed her arms nervously. “I just… when I asked you if you wanted to be with me, you – you didn’t – um… fenedhis.” She let out a self-deprecating little laugh. “I’m being foolish. I’m sorry. Do you want some coffee? I’ve banished all tea from this room for the rest of the night, don’t worry.” She gestured at the desk, where a tray with a cafetière sat with two cups and saucers.

Despite her obvious nerves, her smile was hopeful and warm, and her teasing reference to his disdain for tea… Nare really did see him as a normal man. She truly saw him as a friendly companion and not as an ineffable figure of power to be revered or reviled.

He gazed at her with a terrible sort of warmth in his chest – terrible in that it felt so good. In the space of these few short months, Nare’s companionship had become so dear to him, and he couldn’t fathom how it had happened. No matter how many hours he spent trying to rid his mind of her while painting his murals, or how many nights he spent pondering this problem while lying awake in bed, he hadn’t come any closer to understanding how he had allowed this to happen. How had he become so hopelessly fascinated by a native denizen of this infuriatingly static world? How had he become so thoroughly ensnared by someone whose existence was premised on his greatest mistake?

Was it possible that the magic of his mark had somehow made her feel more like home to him? Perhaps this was why he had allowed her to become so familiar.

“What were you like before the anchor?” he asked abruptly.

She blinked, so he pressed on. “Has it affected you?” he said. “Changed you in any way? Your mind, your morals, your… spirit?”

Nare frowned slightly and nibbled her lip in thought, and Solas turned away to avoid staring at the lushness of her lips. He wandered restlessly toward the west-facing balcony, and Nare followed him. When they were standing on the balcony in the fresh mountain air, she spoke. “I… can’t really say. A lot of things in my life have changed, beyond just having the anchor,” she said. “Travelling on my own, making friends with shemle– er, humans, having people looking at me like a political figure…” She grimaced and leaned her elbows on the balcony railing. “So much has changed since I was with my clan. If I’ve changed, how could I know for sure if those changes are because of the mark, or because of everything else changing too?”

He raised his eyebrows appreciatively. “That’s an excellent point,” he said. Truly, he was impressed by how analytical her answer was. And even with the analytical and accurate nature of her answer, she hadn’t quite answered his question at all.

It was a masterful response. Wise, careful, open to multiple possibilities…

His heart throbbed again, and he rubbed his forehead. It was unfathomable, and it shouldn’t be possible, but he couldn’t deny the way she made him feel. He couldn’t keep trying to dodge it. Solas had never been one to bury his head in the sand. He may once have been impulsive and quick to plunge in headfirst, but hiding and dodging from ugly truths? That was not how the Dread Wolf operated.

Not until recently, at least, with his admittedly juvenile attempts to avoid Nare. Now, as he stood in front of her gazing into her lucid aquamarine eyes, he could not hide from the most terrible truth he’d had to face in several thousand years.

Nare Lavellan was real. She was incredibly, unfathomably, breathtakingly real. And Solas was hopelessly and terribly in love with her.

She took a small step closer to him. “Solas, is something wrong?”

Yes, he thought. I am enthralled by you, and it is the worst thing that could have happened to us both.

He folded his hands behind his back. “You have shown a wisdom I have not seen since… since my deepest journeys into the ancient memories of the Fade,” he told her. “You are not what I expected.”

“What did you expect?” she asked.

I expected ignorance, he thought. Ignorance was all that he had encountered in the year before his agents had led Corypheus to the orb, after all.

He began pacing slowly on the balcony. “Most people are predictable,” he said. “You have shown subtlety in your actions. A wisdom that goes against everything I expected.” He rubbed his chin, then forced himself to ask her the question he really didn’t want the answer to. “If the Dalish could raise someone with a spirit like yours, have I misjudged them?”

She pulled a little face and shrugged. “I don’t know, Solas. I didn’t meet the Dalish that you did. I can only speak for my clan, and I like to think they’d have listened to your stories.”

“They are not stories,” he said, more harshly than he intended. “They are memories collected during my journeys in the Fade.”

Her expression grew apprehensive once more. “I know. I didn’t mean… I don’t mean ‘stories’ in a bad way. Any good story is like a pearl, right? Under all the shiny layers, there’s a grain of truth.” She smiled tentatively. “That’s what Deshanna always says, anyway.”

Solas gave her a sharp look. “Is that what you believe, as well?” he said. “That a story represents the truth shrouded in layers of fantasy and misdirection?”

She frowned slightly, and her eyes moved carefully over his face. “You could put it that way, yes,” she said. “But I think Deshanna’s way of saying it sounds nicer.” She offered him a soft and hopeful smile.

He gazed down at her with an ache in his chest. If only she knew. If only she was aware that some of the most stubbornly held Dalish myths were seeded in a truth so close and so tangible that she could literally touch.

He bowed his head and turned away from her to pace some more, but she suddenly grabbed his hand. “Solas, please,” she said. “Please don’t leave.”

That was the problem; he hadn’t been trying to leave. It was no longer his intention to leave her room, if he had ever even truly intended to leave.

“Please,” she said. “Please look at me.”

Her voice was strained now, and Solas finally raised his eyes to her face. Her beautiful face that was bursting with hope and vitality and more wisdom than anyone in this static world had any right to have…

She took a step closer to him. “I want to be with you,” she said. “I can’t stand the… not knowing. I just – I need to know. Do you…” She took a shaky breath. “Do you want to be with me?”

I do, he thought. More than anything, he wanted to be with her. But he didn’t have the right. The Dread Wolf had forfeited the right to have anything he wanted the moment he’d saved his people and doomed them in the same catastrophic stroke.

He released a slow breath. He ought to leave. He ought to take his hand from hers and walk away.

“It would be kinder in the long run,” he said quietly, almost to himself. Then, against his better judgment, he reached out and cupped Nare’s cheek in his palm.

Her fingers tightened on his other hand, and Solas brushed his thumb tenderly over her lips. “I should not stay, Nare,” he said softly. “But losing you would–”

Her tongue darted out and flicked over the pad of his thumb.

He froze. Nare’s eyes went wide and darted to his face, and for the space of a heartbeat, they stared at each other. And in the space of that one single heartbeat, that one single pulsing squeeze of his heart, every final feeble barrier he’d been trying to build against her fell into utter ruin.

“Fuck,” she breathed. “Solas, I’m sor–”

He pulled her against his chest and kissed her.

She let out a little whimper of surprise, but it was swiftly muffled when he coaxed her mouth open and licked her tongue. The next thing he knew, Nare was clutching the collar of his tunic and pressing herself against his front, and his hand was sliding into the thick russet ropes of her hair while his other hand drifted down her spine toward her bottom.

He gripped her buttock and pulled her against his thigh, and she broke his kiss with a gasp. When he gently pulled her hair, she craned her neck back and burst out a single word. “Please!”

He didn’t reply. He sealed his lips over hers and walked her back toward the balcony railing, and then he was clasping her neck and stroking the line of her jaw and kissing her with all the enthusiasm of a starving man at a feast.

He nipped gently at her lips and pressed his thigh between her legs. She pulled his tunic and tilted her groin against his thigh, and Solas sighed blissfully into her mouth. The taste of her tongue, the citrus scent of her hair as he threaded it through his fingers… it was every bit as good as he remembered from that scintillating night they’d spent together in her tent, and it was every bit as illicit and ill-advised as the torrid moment they’d spent locked together in the downstairs library this morning.

And Solas relished it. He sank into her kiss without thinking, without guilt and without bothering to convince himself to stop, because there was no stopping this. There was no point denying the depth of his feelings for her. There was no point trying to push her away, only to have the memories torture him at every moment of the waking day and every second of the dreaming night. Denial was useless, a juvenile attempt to stave off a reality that was better confronted head-on, and if confronting this reality involved the delectable sounds that were trickling from Nare’s lips and the wanton way she was rubbing herself against his thigh, then Solas had no right to complain.

Her hands left his tunic, and she began fumbling with the laces of her shirt. Solas broke their kiss and took her hands. “Nare, wait a moment.”

She wrested her hands from his and gripped his tunic again. “Don’t go,” she begged. “You can’t – don’t – don’t leave me again, please…”

“It is not my intention to leave,” he said soothingly. “I wish only to speak more of what you told me before. About your other… partners.”

He couldn’t quite shave the disdain from his tone, but Nare didn’t seem to mind; she relaxed and gave him a wry smile. “You want to hear about how I’ve never had good sex even though I’m thirty-one?”

He brushed his thumb fondly over her cheek. She said ‘thirty-one’ as though her handful of years spanned an entire lifetime. “I do,” he said. “It is important, given where we are headed.”

Her tongue darted over her lower lip. “And where are we headed, exactly?” she asked breathlessly.

He smiled faintly, then penned her against the balcony railing and slowly lowered his lips to her ear. “To a state of considerable undress if your restless hands are anything to go by, da’len,” he whispered.

She dragged in a raspy breath. Then Solas tipped her chin up and brushed her lower lip with his thumb again. “Tell me what sex was like for you before, Nare. It is important.”

She swallowed hard, then dropped his gaze. “It was… it just wasn’t good. They… I don’t know if it was them or me, but it… I thought I was ready before they, um, entered me.” She shrugged and kept her gaze on the floor. “I suppose I wasn’t actually ready, but I only know that now because you…” She trailed off, then looked him in the eye. “Solas, you make me… I didn’t want any of them like I want you.”

Her cheeks were rapidly turning red, but Solas gazed seriously at her. “You say it didn’t feel good. Did it feel bad?” he asked.

She pressed her lips together and lowered her gaze, and his heart twisted for her. “Were you in pain?” he said softly.

She took a tremulous breath. “I don’t think it was their fault,” she mumbled. “It – it hurt with all of them, so it couldn’t have been their fault, it must have been my–”

“Stop,” he said, quietly but firmly. “I must stop you there. You are not at fault.” He tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “If they did not recognize your pain, they were not worthy to touch you.”

Her face crumpled. Solas took a deep breath to quell the sympathetic aching in his throat, then stroked her cheek with his knuckles. “Do you recall what I told you about the nature of magic back in the days of ancient Arlathan?” he said softly. “How new spells would spin out for years untold, echoing and harmonizing with those from countless years before?”

She nodded, and Solas gently brushed a tear from her cheek. “Just as magic could linger in an unending flow, so it was with sensations of a more carnal nature as well.”

She darted a glance at him. “What do you mean?”

“I have seen memories in the Fade,” he said. “Lovers twined together in a perpetual cycle of pleasure, bringing each other to orgasm through delicate touch and words alone.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Touching and talking only?”

“Yes,” he said. “It took time and patience, but these were privileges that our ancient forbears had in plenty.”

“That sounds… incredible,” she said softly. “Like an amazing dream.”

He let out a small laugh. “Yes.”

She gave him a shy smile. Then her expression became sly. “You’ve seen these memories, you say?” she said cheekily. “So you watch people doing more than just dressing their hair, it seems.”

He chuckled, pleased by the return of her humour. “So it would seem,” he said. He tilted his head. “Would you be interested in feeling what this is like?”

Her eyes went wide. “In… in feeling what, exactly?”

“In a climax brought to you through simple talk and touch,” Solas said.

Her face slackened, and Solas watched with satisfaction as her cheeks turned red – but not with embarrassment this time. No, there was nothing embarrassed about the way her spine was straightening and the obvious interest in her aquamarine eyes.

“Is that a yes?” he said mildly.

“Yes,” she blurted. “Yes, absolutely yes.”

He smiled at how eager she was. Then he reached for the laces of her shirt.

She drew a tiny breath through her parted lips. His body thrilled at the subtle sound, but he forced himself to calmly loosen the laces. He carefully untucked the fabric from her breeches, then raised his gaze to her face.

“Lift your arms,” he said quietly.

She did as he asked, and he carefully pulled the linen shirt up to reveal the planes of her belly. Her breasts were bare beneath the shirt, and by the time he pulled the shirt off and dropped it on the ground, his cock was a rock-hard rod in his breeches, and Nare’s eyes were dark and feverish with want.

He took a careful breath and looked her in the eye. “If I do anything you dislike, you must tell me right away,” he said. “This is never negotiable. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” she said.

He tilted his head. “Yes, what?”

She arched her spine slightly, drawing his greedy gaze back to her nipples. “Yes, hah’ren,” she breathed.

He smiled. “Good,” he said, and he continued undressing her. When Nare was naked, Solas stepped back and studied her.

The fresh mountain air was raising goosebumps on her skin and bringing her nipples to pebbled peaks. The starlight had turned her skin to a lush shade of pearl, and at the apex of her thighs…

Her desperation was obvious, a glossy shine that glazed her cleft and the insides of her thighs, and the mere sight of her wetness was enough to lift a feral sort of hunger in the pit of his belly. He breathed slowly to master the hunger and scanned her slowly from head to toe, then took another small step away from her.

“I will not lay with you tonight,” he said.

Her face slackened with disappointment. “What?” she blurted. “But–”

He interrupted her. “Not unless you ask me three times.”

She frowned. “Three times? Why…?”

“Because I need you to be certain,” he said. He reached out and lightly stroked the slick inside of her thigh.

She shuddered at the featherlight touch, and he breathed slowly to calm himself before speaking again. “This is a gift, Nare,” he said quietly. “One that can only be given freely and without qualm. I will accept this gift only if you are completely certain that you are ready to give it.”

“And what if I asked you to fuck me three times right now?” she said.

He smirked. “Even though I spoke to you of the ebb and flow of pleasure through careful words and gentle touch?” he said. “You wish to curtail that before I have even begun?”

She wilted. “No, hah’ren.”

He chuckled. “A wise choice, da’len.” Then, very gently, he slid two fingers between her legs.

She bucked her hips and moaned, and Solas greedily enjoyed the needy sound before withdrawing his fingers from her warmth. When she opened her eyes and met his gaze, he licked her sweetness from his fingers.

She pressed her thighs together. “Fuck,” she whined.

Her voice was strained with need, and the restless hunger in his gut stirred once more, but he forced himself to ignore it. He tilted his head at her bedroom. “Go inside and wait for me to join you,” he said.

“How should I wait?” she asked eagerly.

He raised his eyebrows in appreciation. For a woman who had never engaged in such roleplay before, she was adopting it seamlessly. “You should stand,” he said. “Near the couch is fine.”

She nodded, then practically ran into the bedroom, and Solas followed her more slowly. When he was facing her, he clasped his hands behind his back.

“Ina’lan’ehn,” he said quietly. “You know the meaning of this word, da’len?”

She nodded. “It means, um… beautiful.” She smiled awkwardly and dropped his gaze.

“That is correct,” he said. “But there is another more subtle meaning as well.” He began to pace slowly around her. “It refers also to the manner in which a thing of beauty brings out the finest traits in all that surrounds it.” He stopped behind her, then tucked her hair over her shoulder and brushed his knuckles along the length of her spine.

She shivered prettily, and Solas leaned in close to her ear. “You are beautiful, Nare. But the reflection of your spirit on those around you is what makes you truly exquisite.”

The tips of her ears were turning pink, but she laughed softly. “You sweet talker,” she said. “You’re just flattering me.”

He paused and tilted his head. “Do you think me to be an idle seducer, Nare?”

“No!” she exclaimed. “No, of course not.”

“I should hope not,” he said. “It is not my intent to shower you in disingenuous flattery.”

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “Oh, Solas, that’s not what I meant. I’m just– ah...” She trailed off, and for good reason; Solas was smoothing his hand over the curve of her bottom.

He squeezed the supple curve of her butt, then skimmed his fingers from her wrist up to her shoulder. When he trailed the tips of his fingers along the side of her neck, she inhaled shakily and tilted her head to the side.

She seemed to be enjoying his touch and his talking, but in truth, Solas was a bit disappointed in himself. He could see why his words might seem like mere flattery to her; the common tongue of this time was a crude language without any of the inherent magic or lilting fluidity of his native tongue. This language lacked the layers of metaphor that Elvhen words so neatly encompassed, so of course his words didn’t have the proper intended effect: they weren’t the words he truly meant.

He frowned, then dismissed the quandary for now. He refused to let a foible of language interfere with Nare’s pleasure. He would simply have to get around the linguistic hurdle in a different way.

He slid his arm around her waist and rested his palm on her belly. She gasped and tilted her head back against his collarbone, and he brushed his lips over her ear once more. “Are you opposed to the use of magic during sex?” he murmured.

“Magic during sex?” she panted. “I… I’ve never – but no, I’m not opposed, not at all.”

“Good,” he said. He slowly slid his hand lower, and when his hand was cupping her sex, he gently pressed his middle finger into her cleft.

She mewled and jerked her hips, and Solas gently kissed her ear. “Patience, Nare,” he whispered. He traced a tiny pattern between her legs with the tip of his finger, then whispered a word in Elvhen: “Isalath’is.”

A tiny burst of magic warmed his palm, and a rush of pleasure surged through his body as the glyph took effect. He bit the inside of his cheek to control his reaction, but Nare gasped and arched uninhibitedly into his chest.

“Solas!” she moaned. “Gods, fuck, I feel so – what is that?” She breathed hard and pressed her bottom back toward his throbbing cock. “What–? How did you…?”

He hastily shifted his pelvis away from her tempting curves. “I linked your desire to mine,” he told her breathlessly. “I can feel your lust, and you can feel mine. We are joined this way until I undo the glyph.”

She moaned and wiggled her hips. “It feels amazing.”

“I am glad you enjoy it,” he murmured. Then he removed his hand from her body and stepped away from her.

She whimpered and gazed desperately at him as he slowly made his way around her. “Where are you going?”

“Nowhere,” he said. “I simply wish to look at you.” He paused in front of her and clasped his hands behind his back. He perused her slowly, lingering on the rosy peaks of her nipples and the dip of her navel and the lean lines of her thighs as they flowed down to her calves and her pretty little toes, and with every second that he spent staring at her, her desperation surged more strongly through his groin by way of the magical glyph.

She shifted restlessly and arched her back. “Solas…”

He raised his eyes slowly to her face. “I meant what I said before, da’len. You are truly exquisite. Your beauty captured my attention, but your spirit… A single conversation with you, and I was enchanted. Your passion, your curiosity, your open mind…” He reached out and brushed his knuckles over her belly, and when her muscles jumped taut beneath his touch, he smiled.

He looked up once more into her blazing blue eyes. “You are infinitely tempting,” he told her. “A flame that flickers in my mind when I am attempting to sleep at night, but instead I ruminate on thoughts of you.”

“You think of me at night?” she asked breathlessly.

He gave her a reproving look. “Did you truly think that incident in your tent was the first time I fantasized of you?”

Her jaw dropped and her cheeks turned pink, and Solas smiled faintly. “No, Nare,” he said. “That was not the first time.” He stepped close to her, then gently took her hand and placed it over the bulge in his breeches.

She instantly molded her fingers over his cock. The resulting rush of pleasure raced through his blood, then rushed through him again and again thanks to the glyph that linked them.

Nare whimpered and squeezed his manhood, and Solas shamelessly enjoyed her touch for a moment more before stepping away from her and drawing a deep and bracing breath. His whole body was roaring with hunger, but he couldn’t sate it yet; he couldn’t sate himself on the infinite feast of Nare’s passion until she asked him three times to take her.

“Solas,” she begged. “I want to touch you…”

“Not until you come, da’len,” he said firmly, both as a reminder to her and to himself. “You must come for me first. I want you to think about me wrapping my fingers around my cock.”

He balked mentally at his own clumsy words; he couldn’t decide if they sounded seductive or silly in the common tongue, but Nare seemed more than pleased: the minute the word cock left his mouth, Nare’s reflected pleasure pulsed deep down in his belly.

“Mhmm,” she moaned. “More, please…”

Ah, good, he thought. He began slowly circling her again. “I want you to think about my hand sliding along the length of my cock,” he said. “Imagine me dreaming of you while I grip myself, wishing it was your hand instead.” He reached out and brushed his thumb over her nipple.

She jerked at his touch. “Yes,” she moaned. “Yes, please, I want to…”

He stopped behind her once more and wrapped his fingers around her throat, and she arched her spine with a gasp.

He brushed his thumb along her neck. “Think of this, Nare,” he said. “Focus on my hand here on your neck.” He stepped closer to her, then pressed his groin against the cleft of her ass and gently squeezed her throat.

She mewled and twisted her hips fitfully. Her pleasure surged through the glyph they shared, and he released a shaky sigh before doggedly resuming his talk. “Think of me taking you from behind,” he murmured. “How it would feel for me to fill you up and spill my… seed inside of you.” He squeezed her throat once more and pumped his hips teasingly against the bare curves of her ass.

She sobbed and pressed her hips back toward him. She was near, so near to the precipice of her own pleasure, and if he spoke to her just so…

He nipped her earlobe and pressed his hips to the curves of her behind. “Are you thinking of this, Nare?” he rasped. “Are you thinking about me fucking you?”

She shuddered and cried out suddenly, and Solas gasped: her climax had finally struck, and it was shivering through both of them in tandem.

“Ah, y-yes!” she cried. She strained back against his chest and dug her nails into his wrist, and he squeezed his eyes shut in ecstasy: her peak was pulsing through his body, pouring through his abdomen like a scintillating burst of bliss, and he groaned helplessly as Nare shuddered against his chest.

“Fuck me!” she cried.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. His cock was pounding from the referred pleasure of her climax, and he was desperate to do as she asked, but he couldn’t – not yet.

Not until she asked it of him three times.

“That is once, Nare,” he said, in the calmest tone he could manage. “You have now asked me once.”

She gasped in another breath and nodded, and Solas released her throat and stepped away from her. The moment he released her, she fell to her knees in front of him and reached for his belt.

His cock jerked in his breeches, but he hastily took her hands in his. “Patience, Nare,” he scolded.

“Let me suck you!” she blurted. She shuffled closer on her knees. “I want your cock, Solas, I – I want you in my mouth, please…”

He raised his eyebrows. “Is that a command, or a request?”

“A – it’s a…” She broke off and gazed pleadingly up at him. “Please, hah’ren, I want… can I suck your cock?”

“Yes,” he said. With slightly shaking fingers, he unbuckled his belt and pulled his tunic over his head. He stripped as efficiently as he could without making a fool of himself like an untried youth, but in truth, he was feeling like exactly that: an eager and untried youth bursting with enthusiasm and hunger and barely a thread of discipline, and the reflection of Nare’s voracious hunger through the glyph wasn’t helping matters.

He finally shucked his breeches, and Nare whimpered and crawled toward him. “Please, hah’ren...”

“Not yet,” he told her. He sat gracefully on the couch, then took his manhood in his fist.

Her eyes grew wide, then wider still when he ran his fist along his length, and he couldn’t decide whether the accompanying pulse of pleasure in his gut came from himself or from her. He stroked himself three more times, and when Nare was mewling and writhing her hips like a cat in heat, he finally gave in.

He patted the couch beside him. “Lay here on your belly,” he instructed.

She jumped to her feet and obeyed him, stretching out on the couch and resting her palms on his thigh and his hip. Before he could give her any further instructions, she took his cock deep into her throat.

Shocked and thrilled, he groaned and jerked his hips, and Nare mewled around his length. Then she was suckling him with deep, quick strokes, her lips firm around his shaft and her fingers digging into his thigh, and it felt – fenedhis, it was good, too damned good, far too good and too fast, and his pleasure was rising and hers was rising too and she was grinding her hips unconsciously against the couch as she suckled him, and –

And it was too much. “Slow down, da’len,” he gasped. He ran his palm gently over her hair, then began gathering her hair in his hands.

She whimpered and continued suckling him, so Solas gently pulled her hair.

She released his cock with a gasp. “Please!” she sobbed. “Please, hah’ren, let me...”

“Slowly, Nare,” he said in a firm tone. “Go slowly. There is no need to rush. We have time.”

She whimpered and pressed her hips into the couch, and her nails bit into his hip. “But I waited so long, I’ve been waiting, I–”

He pulled her hair again, more firmly this time. “Slowly,” he said, very quietly. “Will you obey me, da’len?”

She sobbed again but nodded her head, and Solas lessened his hold on her hair. As soon as his fingers loosened in her hair, she took him in her mouth once more, but the heated strokes of her lips and throat were deep and slow this time.

Solas sighed blissfully and flexed into her lips. The pleasure was just as great but less urgent now, and he was better able to concentrate on Nare’s pleasure as well. He slid his free hand over her shoulder, then down along the smooth curve of her spine.

He lovingly ran his palm over her bottom, and she jerked and moaned into his cock. Riled and encouraged, he stroked the smooth globes of her bottom until she was writhing, then slid his hand lower still and smoothed his fingers over her inner thigh.

She jerked again and released his cock just long enough to let out a feral little cry, and Solas groaned as his pleasure surged in time with hers. Her slickness was smeared across the inner margins of her thighs, and he had no doubt that it would grace the couch as well when they eventually stood.

He slid his hand back up to stroke her bottom, and Nare arched her spine and began sucking him faster.

Solas gasped in a breath and pulled her hair. “Slowly, da’len,” he groaned.

She obeyed him, but arched her spine further and wiggled her hips, and Solas squeezed her buttock. She moaned, and he clenched his jaw to stifle his own pleasured moan: her desire was so acute and tense that he could feel it through the glyph. Her fingers were digging into his thigh and his hip, and as he continued to caress her ass, she strained to lift her hips toward his hand…

So Solas followed his instinct and spanked her.

It was a small spank, just enough to feel a hint of sting through his palm, but Nare suddenly released his cock and cried out, and Solas gasped helplessly as her pleasure mirrored itself through his limbs.

“Solas, fuck me!” she wailed.

He forced his eyes open and dragged in a breath. “That is two times,” he gasped. “You have asked me twice now, Nare.”

She moaned and nodded, then dipped her head low and slid her lips over the head of his cock, but Solas stopped her with his hand on her chin. “Enough now,” he panted. “On your hands and knees, da’len.”

She sobbed with frustration but did as he asked, and a moment later she was on all fours on the couch while Solas stood beside the couch and stared at her, trying desperately to calm the inferno of desire that was raging at him from deep inside his gut.

He breathed deeply to try and cool his desire, but it was impossible – no, that wasn’t true. It wasn’t impossible; Solas just didn’t want to cool it. This desire, this sheer and breathtaking lust, the way he felt when Nare looked at him and touched him and wrapped her lips around his aching cock, like a current of lightning and heat and pleasure was rippling just beneath his skin: it was a gift, a blessing he hadn’t realized he was missing, and he didn’t want to give it up.

He hadn’t felt such passion in years. He hadn’t been this lustful in decades, and he hadn’t felt this alive in even more centuries before that. Before the casting of the Veil had stolen his reserves and cast him into a forced uthenera, his life had been a series of catastrophes one after the next, each requiring as logical and passionless a solution as he could manage despite his rage and grief. It wasn’t until now, while staring at the breathtaking sight of Nare’s naked and willing body, that he realized the toll that the constant war had taken.

He hadn’t been alive when he’d fallen into that dark and dreaming sleep, not truly. He had been a shell of a man, a lifeless shell driven by the duality of vengeance and justice, and it wasn’t until now that he remembered what it was to be alive.

It wasn’t until this moment, with this flame-haired woman splayed before him with her heart in her ocean-blue eyes, that Solas remembered what it was like to truly be alive.

“Solas, please,” she begged. “Please touch me.”

He drew a bracing breath and took a small step closer to her. “How should I touch you, da’len?” he said.

She glanced over her shoulder at him. “Will you… will you lick me, hah’ren?”

Her cheeks were starting to pinken from the bold request, and Solas smiled faintly at her. “There is nothing I would like more than to taste you,” he said. He ran his palm over her bottom again. “Spread your legs further. Let me look at you.”

She placed one foot on the floor and twisted her hips toward him. Solas swallowed hard, then slowly lowered himself to his knees behind her and ran his palms up the backs of her thighs.

She mewled and arched her spine, and a crystalline strand of desire dripped from her fragrant flesh down toward the floor.

A roar of approval surged through his blood, rendering him lightheaded, and he forced out a breath. “Veraisa,” he murmured.

She glanced at him over her shoulder. “What does that mean?” she asked.

He tore his eyes away from her pussy. “It means ‘temptress’,” he explained. “One who inspires an endless depth of desire.”

She laughed. “I’m not a temptress!”

He shook his head slightly. “Nare, you cannot fathom the depths to which you tempt me,” he said softly. He lifted his hand and slid two fingers over her slippery folds.

She mewled again and bucked her hips, and Solas splayed his palm on her ass to hold her still. “Every shift of your body is a temptation,” he said. “Every time you speak, every time you laugh – you are tempting me more than you realize.” Nare tempted him, and as playful as he made this sound, it was a hard and brutal truth. Solas had never encountered a more delectable and dangerous temptation than Nare, and part of her danger was that she didn’t realize just how dangerous she was. Without even realizing what she’d done, she had lured him into seeing this world as more than just a deadened place. She had made him see these people as more than walking husks, and she shone with a sort of hope he hadn’t encountered in centuries.

Nare had tempted him to love her, and Solas had fallen directly into the honeyed trap of her arms. And yet, despite the dangers and the pain that was likely to come, he couldn’t bring himself to let her go.

It was selfish and unfair and exceedingly unwise, but he couldn’t let her go.

He tilted his head and pressed his lips between her legs, and she cried out the instant he touched her with his mouth. He braced his palms on her thighs and lapped at her wetness, enjoying her nectar just as much as he had this morning, and when Nare began rocking her hips back to meet his mouth, his enjoyment surged even higher.

He angled his head and caressed her clit with his lower lip, and she bucked her hips and sobbed. “Fuck, please, more of that…”

He smiled at her shameless request. It would never fail to amuse him how vocal she was in the throes of her pleasure compared to her shyness at the start and end of their carnal episodes.

He lapped at her clit and teased the swollen little nub with his lower lip until she was writhing, then kissed the precious bud and suckled it very gently.

Nare gasped and clenched her fingers in the cushions of the couch. “Creators, yes!” she yelped. “Solas, p-please, that–”

He continued to gently suckle her clit, teasing her in between with long strokes of his tongue for the sheer pleasure of hearing her breathe his name, and all the while he could feel her pleasure building and surging through the glyph he’d traced between her legs. When she was right at the edge of her climax, he felt it between his legs and in the tension of her thighs beneath his palms. When she finally hit her peak, she arched her spine and cried out, and Solas lapped her clit and slid one finger deep inside of her.

She jerked and let out a wild wordless cry, and Solas moaned helplessly into her flesh. He felt her, felt her orgasm as it pulsed through her belly and her thighs, and when he curled his finger carefully inside of her, it kicked their shared pleasure higher still.

He moaned again, then leaned away from her and gasped for breath, his eyes fixed shamelessly at the joining of his finger with her dew-slicked folds. Then Nare suddenly shifted away from him.

She fell to her knees on the floor in front of him and grabbed his shoulders. “Please,” she sobbed. “Please, Solas, fuck me!”

His cock throbbed eagerly, but he clasped her wrists and looked her in the eye. “That was three times, Nare,” he said seriously. “Are you certain that you want this?”

“Yes!” she cried. “Yes, yes, I’m sure, I’m so sure – Solas, take me!”

He paused for a split second. Take me. Like that foolish Dalish curse – may the Dread Wolf take you…

Nare clasped his neck in her palms and kissed him hard, and Solas opened his mouth to welcome the sleek thrust of her tongue. She tilted her head and aggressively slanted her lips over his, and Solas permitted her lusty kiss for a moment before reaching down and palming her ass.

She gasped against his lips, and Solas took full advantage to thrust his tongue into her mouth. She pressed her breasts to his chest and clenched her nails in his collarbones, then broke from his lips with a moan when he rubbed his cock against her belly.

She pressed her hips toward him. “Solas, please, please–”

“Lie on the bed,” he said.

Nare’s eyes widened, and he couldn’t blame her. His voice was rough and tense, and he sounded unlike himself – almost like a feral version of himself, in fact, but this only seemed to rile her further: she whimpered and clawed his chest and twisted her hips toward him, almost like she was devolving into something feral and wild herself.

He sealed her lips with another kiss, and she moaned into his mouth and grabbed his cock. He gasped, then thrust his tongue back into the precious heat of her mouth, but she was stroking his cock and trying to push his shaft between her legs even though the angle of their kneeling bodies was far too awkward for them to meld, and – fenedhis, he needed to wrest control of this situation before he lost it entirely. He needed to regain control before he did something hasty, like shove her down on the carpet and fuck her like the bestial roar of want in his belly was begging him to do.

He pushed her away with one hand on her hip, but she whined and grabbed at his shoulders again. Veraisa, he thought, exasperated and riled in equal measure. He reached up and firmly gripped her chin. “Go lie on the bed, da’len,” he said roughly. “Now.”

“Yes, hah’ren,” she blurted.

He released her chin. She jumped to her feet and ran over to the bed, and Solas swiftly followed her. She crawled onto the mattress, but before she could turn over onto her back, he crawled onto the bed behind her and placed his palm between her shoulder blades.

“Lie down,” he said, and he pressed gently on her back.

She did as he asked and laid flat on her belly. Solas brushed her hair aside so he could admire the side of her face and the naked canvas of her back, then slid his palm slowly along the center of her back and down toward her bottom.

She whimpered softly and arched her spine, lifting her hips slightly in the process, and Solas forced himself to breathe through the mind-numbing haze of lust that was threatening to blind him. She was so beautiful, the perfect combination of pliant and wanton: she followed his every carnal command while actively demanding more, matching his every action with the most exquisitely pleasured reactions that a corporeal body could provide, and…

And it was all for him. Nare wanted him. By her own confession, Solas was the only person she had ever wanted with this degree of sheer desperate desire.

She wanted him. In this deadened world where apostates were reviled and his kin from the Fade were feared, Nare had listened to him and heard his stories and told him stories of this world in turn. She smiled at him, and she debated with him without writing him off, and now she was here, naked and stretched out on her belly and begging him to touch her with the twisting of her bare body. The scent of her, the sound of her whimpering voice, the complete and uninhibited acceptance that was implied by her willing and submissive pose: she was so raw, so visceral and tangible and real–

She was real. Fenedhis, she was more real than anything or anyone he’d encountered in all his time here – no, longer than that: she was the most real, genuine, guileless person he had known since before he was Fen’Harel.

He exhaled shakily, stunned and overwhelmed by lust and adoration and grief and confusion, but the lust soon surged back to the fore as Nare restlessly lifted her hips.

She arched her spine again, and Solas’s eyes fell to the apex of her thighs – the fragrant and shining apex of her thighs where the glyph he’d traced was channeling her desperation straight to his cock.

“Solas, please,” she mewled. “What are you waiting for?”

He dragged his eyes back up to her face. “I’m not waiting,” he said. “I am watching.”

“Watching what?” she panted.

“You, of course,” he said. “The shifting of your body is like a tidal wave of lust. It is a sight to behold.” He reached up and tenderly stroked her hair. “You think you were to blame for your lack of pleasure in the past, but I assure you that the fault was entirely theirs.”

She stilled and dropped his gaze. “I don’t know about that. I–”

“You misunderstand me,” Solas interrupted. “This is not a question that is up for debate. This is a fact.”

She glanced at him again with wider eyes, and he stroked her hair again. “You are perfect, Nare,” he murmured. “Every part of you, exactly as you are. The precise shade of your eyes, the silk of your hair, the velvet of your skin: you are beautiful, and you are perfect. You are… passion,” he said slowly. “You embody it. It is evident in every movement of your body and every word you speak. It is not your fault that they failed to reveal this facet of who you are.” He smoothed his palm over her back and her bottom, then reached between her legs and petted the wetness there.

She gasped and jerked her hips, and his glyph flared with a fresh bolt of pleasure. Solas inhaled carefully and continued to brush his fingers between her legs. “This is part of who you are,” he told her. “This desire that you feel? The way you want to be touched–”

“I want you to touch me,” she interrupted. “Only you. You’re the only one I – I want you.”

A fresh pang of gratitude and grief squeezed his heart. To be wanted by someone like her — someone bursting with hope and youth and optimism, all the things he had long thought lost…

He shunted the melancholy aside and stroked her wetness. “This is for me, da’len? This desire that is dripping between your legs is for me?”

“Yes,” she breathed.

“And the curve of your spine?” he asked. He stroked her back with his free hand and rested his palm on her bottom. “The way your back is arched, like a bow that is ready to spring. Is that for me as well?”

“Yes, yes hah’ren, yes!” she cried. Her voice was strained as she rocked her hips back toward his fingers, and Solas forced himself to breathe as he stared at her. She was wet and shining and ready, ready and waiting for him to take her, and the glyph between her legs was positively pulsing from the strength of her desire.

He took his cock in his hand and slid his shaft teasingly between her folds. She jerked and clenched her fists in the covers, and Solas hissed in a breath. She was hot and slick and waiting, and the mere touch of her heat against his shaft the most pleasurable torture…

He reached out and pulled gently on her shoulder, and she obediently raised herself onto her elbows. Then Solas slid his fingers around her throat.

She gasped and bucked her hips, and he hissed in another breath as his shaft glided teasingly through the slickness of her flesh. “Is this what you want, Nare?” he asked, and he gently squeezed her throat.

“Yes!” she cried.

“You are ready for me?” he said. “You are ready for this?” His voice sounded rough and feral again, but he didn’t care; Nare was writhing and clawing at the bed, and the glyph between her legs was pulsing so hard that he could barely concentrate on anything else.

He slid his cock along the length of her cleft once more, and she jolted and mewled. “Yes, yes!” she whined.

He squeezed her throat again. “Yes, what?” he demanded.

“Yes, hah’ren!” she wailed. “I’m empty without you, please!”

Empty. That was how he had felt, before Nare reminded him what it was to be alive. Before she had appeared in his life, an accidental side-effect of his latest disaster, and shown him in the most wonderful and terrible ways that this world was worth far more than he thought.

His heart twisted, and he dragged in a bittersweet breath. “Then I will give you what you have been demanding,” he said huskily. And finally, at long last, Solas gave himself to Nare.

He gently gripped her throat, and slowly, very slowly so as to savour every long-awaited second, he slid inside of her.

She let out the most beautiful little mewl, and Solas groaned out loud. She was so tight and slick and blissfully warm, and he shuddered helplessly at how exquisitely good she felt. He breathed slowly and pushed himself deeper, and before he was halfway hilted, Nare was panting desperately for air. By the time his hips were flush to the smooth curves of her ass, she was clawing at the bed and crying out in a strained and breathy voice, and the vicarious feeling through the glyph…

Nare was already at the edge of climax. From a single blissful stroke, she was nearly ready to come.

Slowly, torturously slowly, he withdrew from her, and she moaned and twisted her hips. “Solas, please–”

“Be patient, Nare,” he breathed. He slid into her once more.

She cried out and shivered, and Solas forced himself to breathe. She was teetering right on the edge of ecstasy, and he could feel the threshold of that ecstasy through the glyph between her legs, and if he did this right – if he moved inside of her in exactly the right way…

“P-please,” she whimpered. “Please, please, I need you…”

He squeezed her throat and entered her in a long, smooth stroke, and she came.

She gripped the covers and let out a loud and visceral cry, and Solas cried out in turn as her tightness gripped him and her pleasure reverberated through his body. Her climax was a deep and throbbing pulse, as though her entire body was spasming from the crux of her thighs all the way down to her toes, as though Solas truly had filled a part of her that had been aching and empty, and he squeezed his eyes shut and clenched his jaw at the sheer intensity of it. By the time the crashing waves of Nare’s pleasure began to wane, she was sweat-laced and shaking and sobbing with pleasure.

“Solas,” she gasped. “I’ve never… that was the first time I…” She trailed off with another sob, and Solas dropped a tender kiss on her back.

“I know, da’len,” he murmured. “Take your time.” He caressed her back with his lips as she trembled and tried to breathe, and when her shaking began to wane, he carefully pulled out of her.

She cried out and reached for him. “No! No, please, I need more–”

He stroked her hip. “Turn over,” he said huskily. “I wish to look at you.”

She swiftly turned over onto her back, and Solas stretched himself over her. He clasped her hands, then slid himself teasingly through her heat once more.

She arched her neck and sobbed. “Please, please, don’t tease me, I c-can’t – I need you, Solas, please don’t tease me– ah!”

Solas sheathed himself inside of her in one swift stroke. She threw her head back and cried out sharply, and Solas silenced her pleasured cry with a kiss. For a mindless, blissful time, he rocked into her and caressed her tongue with his own, and when she was rolling her hips up to meet him, he peeled himself away from her lips.

“Passion,” he panted, and he thrust into her again. “Never forget, Nare. Never doubt that this is who you are.”

“For you,” she gasped. “You’re the only – Solas, only you know me like this. I…” She trailed off as another trickle of tears ran down the side of her face, and through the rising wave of his pleasure, he could feel a bittersweet warmth rising in his chest.

He knew what she had meant to say. He knew what she felt, because he felt it too. Through the conversations they’d had, through the passion they had shared and were continuing to share right now, Solas felt as though Nare knew him – truly knew him, even though she didn't and couldn’t know everything that there was to know. Nare knew his mind and the feral hunger that he had long thought lost. She knew his esoteric interests and she knew his quixotic moods, and she wanted him anyway.

He kissed her again and rolled his hips, and Nare moaned into his mouth, and in a matter of moments they were breathing and fucking each other in a frenzy of rapidly rising rapture. Her palms were hot and sweaty against his own, and he was pumping into her in a driving rhythm and savouring her every gasping moan, and at the moment that his climax finally crashed over him, he had no resistance left to stop the words from leaving his mouth.

He shuddered and groaned, then pressed his forehead to hers. “Ar lath ma, vhenan,” he whispered.

She gasped and squeezed his hands. “Solas, I–”

He cut her off with a kiss. When his climax ebbed away, leaving him boneless and spent, he finally lifted himself from her lips.

She gazed up at him with those big guileless blue eyes. “Did you mean that?” she breathed. “That you…” She faltered and dropped her gaze, and Solas smiled at the inevitable return of her shyness.

“That I love you?” he supplied. He brushed his thumb tenderly along the edge of her face. “I do mean it, yes.”

“Then why…?” She stopped herself once again and nibbled her lip.

Solas shifted onto the mattress beside her and soothingly stroked her belly. “Speak your mind, Nare. Never feel that you can’t speak your mind to me.”

She nervously licked her lips, then glanced at him once more. “Why were you avoiding me, then?” she said in a small voice. “I thought you didn’t want me.”

He gazed at her with an aching sort of fondness. “It wasn’t a lack of desire that prompted my childish behaviour. Quite the opposite,” he said softly. “I avoided you because…” He sighed and told her a very simple version of the truth. “Because you are a da’len, and I am a hah’ren.”

“What’s wrong with that?” she said. “I like that you have things to teach me. Besides, you aren’t that much older than me.”

If only you knew, he thought sadly. But Nare was blithely pressing on. “Besides, don’t you like being my hah’ren?” She gave him a cheeky little smile, but he could see the insecurity in the tilt of her eyebrows.

He skimmed his knuckles over her cheek. “I do. More than you know,” he replied. Even as a young elgar’venathe, he had always enjoyed teaching others and sharing his knowledge. And now, sharing in this kind of carnal knowledge with such an eager and exquisite pupil as Nare was better than the finest dream.

Her smile softened with relief. “Good,” she said. “Because I like it too.”

“Do you?” he said. “I couldn’t tell.”

She shot him a sideways look, then burst out a laugh, and Solas admired the pinkening of her cheeks. “You’re teasing me,” she said.

He smiled at her and tweaked a strand of her hair. “How can I not, when you turn such an endearing shade of pink?”

Nare laughed again, then rolled onto her side to face him and stroked his cheek. “I love you too, Solas,” she murmured.

He smiled at her and didn’t reply; there was no need to speak, not when the happiness in her eyes was a mirror of his own heart. He skimmed his palm along the curve of her hip, enjoying the simple pleasure of having someone so close and so dear whose bare skin was his to stroke.

Then Nare shuffled closer and tucked her head beneath his chin, just as she’d done that night they’d slept together in his bedroll, and Solas closed his eyes against a sudden burn of tears. In this moment, with Nare’s bare body wrapped in his arms and wreathed in the fragrant afterglow of their sex, he was happier than he had been in far longer than he could remember.

And this happiness — this simple, undeserved happiness — scared him more than he could say.

He sighed softly and pressed his lips to her citrus-scented hair. He was Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf of elven legend, and in time he would be forced to assume that mantle again. But for now, he was simply Solas: a mild-mannered apostate with a passion for the Fade and a weakness for one red-haired woman named Nare.

For now, he was simply Solas, and he would enjoy the delicious simplicity of being a man in love.

#solas #solas smut #ELVEN GLORY #solas fic #solavellan #solas/lavellan #solas x lavellan #pikapeppa writes

69 notes · View notes

letsbenditlikebennett · 4 years

Text

The Moon Always Rises || Alcher & Ariana

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @zahneundklauen & @letsbenditlikebennett SUMMARY: After disagreeing on how Adam should be handled, Alcher and Ariana finally talk. CONTENT: Abuse mentions, parental death

As much as Ariana wanted to stay put in her apartment that currently smelled like fresh baked cookies thanks to Athena, she knew she couldn’t avoid talking to Alcher forever. She had to make sure another attempt wouldn’t be made at Adam’s life. He wouldn’t give up this time and she couldn’t stand the thought of losing Layla. Her relationship with Alcher was still developing and she felt it was important they talked this out as much as she would have preferred to stay curled up on her couch pretending things weren’t even half as shitty as they currently were. That wasn’t going to fix anything though. If she wanted to move forward and find some sense of normalcy again, she’d have to keep this meeting with Alcher. It was hard to forget the malice of her actions and how shocked she’d been by claws contacting her face. The only other time she’d ever been hurt by someone she cared for like that was when Layla was hypnotized by that stupid fidget spinner and she hadn’t exactly been in her right mind then. This felt different. She’d been quick to place trust in Alcher and it all felt so fragile now. She wasn’t one to run from her problems though, so she walked into the Common with her head held high and tried to ignore what may be happening here in only a couple of times if Nell’s spell didn’t work. That was more than she could handle at this moment though so she sat at one of the picnic benches and waited for Alcher to arrive with her elbows resting on the table.

This was a pivotal moment. Of the two, Ariana had not been the one Alcher had figured would betray her. But it was obvious, now, that being raised by humans had made her soft, and it was going to take a gentle hand-- not the rough one she’d displayed at the peak-- to guide Ariana down the right path. But Alcher could do that. She would swallow her ire and make sure to keep her business to herself. They could approach the topic of hunters and their deaths later. Today, she was sitting on the public bus, surrounded by stenches that made her wish she could not smell at all, and surrounded by people who she wished she could remove from her vicinity. But with a broken leg, walking was impossible. So, she was here, suffering, just to see Ariana. When she arrived, she pulled out the crutch Jared had given her, and made her way through the park and over to the picnic benches where she’d spotted Ariana. She took a large inhale of the fresh air on her way and stopped a few feet short of where she was. “How are you feeling?” she asked, eyes falling on the marks on her face. Ariana was clearly upset about them, so Alcher winced when she saw them.

After what happened at Lyssa’s Peak, Ariana was unsure of how to respond to Alcher. Anger that her trust had been betrayed still lingered and wasn’t the easiest thing to suppress. As it stood, they were still wolves and the instinct to stick together was still present despite her anger. She could smell Alcher approaching before the woman stood in front of her, wincing at the sight of her face. It was something she’d found herself doing in the morning before she had opted to get rid of her mirrors though that had more to do with the woman inside calling her a murderer than anything else. She gave Alcher a curt nod in greeting and thought it over for a minute. She shrugged and simply answered, “Pretty shitty.” In that moment, she didn’t feel like placating Alcher and pretending she was doing better than she was. Everything was still a mess and the closer she got to the next full moon, the more worry seemed to take over her emotions. She scooted over on the bench giving Alcher room to sit with her. “Physically, I’m okay. Just have a lot to figure out I guess. How are you feeling?” It was obvious that she was still healing. She hadn’t wanted Alcher to get hurt, which was why she had avoided doing any serious harm to her. She couldn’t expect as much from Adam and Nell though. She had been the one to attack after all.

Tentatively, as if worried she might be overstepping bounds, Alcher approached the bench. Despite her lingering anger, Alcher appreciated Ariana’s honesty. She drew in a breath through her nose and exhaled softly. “Shitty sums it up,” she parroted, glancing sideways at Ariana. Hands folded stiffly in front of her. “I’m already missing one leg, and the witch broke my other,” she said, knowing Ariana valued honesty. She was keeping much from her, but she could tell her this truth. She leaned back, then, placing her palms on the cool table, looking out across the common. Her eyes did not show her much, blotchy colors, melding together. Browns and greys and light blues. She wondered how much longer her eyes would hold up for her. “I need to know why you defended him,” she spoke slowly, carefully, making sure to put a small hint of worry, concern in her voice. And she was worried and she was concerned-- just, perhaps, not in the way Ariana would suppose. She looked back over at her, as if deeply wounded and hiding the shame. “Why would you defend a hunter over your own kind?”

As much as Ariana wanted to feel bad that Alcher had been hurt that night, she had a difficult time looking over the fact it was her own malicious actions that had led to the injury. That led to the injuries of others she cared for. It wasn’t something she could just forget, but she wanted to move forward either way. “Hopefully, it’ll heal quickly. The moon will likely help,” she said in a tone that mirrored the uneasiness she was feeling. This was a difficult conversation to have in the midst of everything else, but she had to make Alcher see things a bit differently the same way she had with some of the hunters she knew. Her eyes followed Alcher’s for a moment and looked over the dull colors of brown and yellow that seemed to paint the landscape in front of them. Apparently, the trees were starting to be speckled with fiery colors, but she couldn’t tell. The answer Alcher needed wasn’t a simple one, but she would do her best to explain it. “Honestly, there are a lot of reasons I didn’t let you guys kill him. Most of which boil down to doing the right thing,” she started and found herself letting out a sigh. “First of all, it’s very explicitly against what Winn wanted. Winn understood why Adam did what he did. He’d admitted some things to Adam and he forgave Adam. Winn was there for me through a lot of really terrible times and honoring his dying wishes were important to me. There’s also the fact Adam straight up admitted he knew what he did was wrong and felt bad with it. He’s wrestling with this whole code thing and I think he’s coming around. More hunters and people in general realizing things aren’t quite as black and white as they seem is important if any of us are ever going to know peace and happiness.”

Ariana shook her head lightly and tried to find a better way to articulate it. While she wasn’t quite ready to talk about Celeste, especially not with the dreams she’d been escaping to in her game, she could try to make her understand the purpose she’d taken on for herself. She leaned against the wooden tabletop and explained, “This whole thing is so much bigger than whether he’s a hunter or we’re wolves. We’re all stuck in this cycle of violence and it’s stupid. Going back and forth killing each other isn’t going to make anything better. It just keeps this whole thing spinning. Adam’s starting to realize that. See that things aren’t quite as simple as a code that was made hundreds of years ago would like them to be. He regrets killing Winn. I think more people like Adam coming around to seeing us as people who make mistakes, grow, and change just like everyone else is an important part of things getting better. Not just for them. Or for us, but for everyone. Nothing’s going to change if we don’t all do better.”

Alcher listened to Ariana’s speech-- to her explanation of why she defended a hunter, of all people. Had he just been human, this talk wouldn’t even be happening. But hunter-- their injustice went far deeper than some ancient code. Humans created hunters to destroy the things they didn’t understand. Her father had taught them that and she refused to believe anything different. It was the only truth that existed. “So you believe that guilt absolves people,” she stated clearly, quietly. “That feeling remorse for an action taken should make up for what was done?” It made little sense to her, but, for Ariana, for another wolf, she supposed she could try. She contemplated a moment. Her father had always called her wise beyond her years, and told her that that was part of what made her a good pack leader. She seemed to always know what to say, and how to be diplomatic. White Crest, however, was proving that wrong. She needed to tread carefully here. “You are a better person than I if that is true. What I know is true, is that hunters have always come after our kind. For centuries we spent our lives hiding, defending ourselves, bending to their will. To the will of humans and those that didn’t understand us. And then they began to hunt us down. Killing us simply because of what we were. They called us monsters and took us from our homes and our families and slaughtered us by the hundreds. One hunter turning against that isn’t going to solve anything,” she explained, though her voice was low and quiet, “the death of one hunter won’t change anything.”

She shifted, leaning forward now, elbows balancing on knees. “I’d grown tired of waiting for hunters to come for me, to kill me, like they slaughtered my family, long ago. I lived in fear for years, wondering if I might wake one night to find them standing over my bed, vowing to kill me because of the wolf inside of me. Hunters took everything from me, so when I heard that one had taken something from you, from Layla-- from your pack-- I couldn’t help but feel that pain again. I never want another wolf to experience what I did, to have to know what that deep pain feels like. I know you lost your caretaker, Ariana, but this loss was-- a genocide.” She reached down and pulled up her pant leg, exposing her prosthetic leg. “They took my family, my pack, dozens of us-- and they took my leg. I still remember their cries as they all suffocated and burned to death in the very home I grew up in. I escaped because my older brother saved me, hid me in a back room where I crawled up the chimney and waited. I waited for hours.” She let the cloth fall back down. “How was I to know whether this hunter was prepared to do that or not? Layla’s anger felt so much like my own. Regret will not fix anything,” she finished quietly, “it only fosters more pain.”

When she turned to look back at Ariana, she found a tear in her own eye and wiped it with the back of her hand. “I only wanted to protect you, to protect Layla. I am sorry I failed you.” And the words were true. She had failed both of them, and herself, the second Ariana showed up to defend the hunter. “If you truly wish to end this cycle of violence, then how do you propose to handle hunters who do not share this view? What, then? Do we bow to them and let them destroy us? It’s not so simple as all that. Are we not owed the ability to live freely as well as any human?”

While it was a relief that Alcher was actually taking the time to try and listen to understand, it seemed it wasn’t quite resonating as Ariana would have hoped. She knew the dynamic of hunters and wolves was something that had been deeply ingrained in both sides for much longer than either of them had been alive. She shook her head. “I don’t think it’s quite that simple. Guilt needs to be followed up with action, with choosing to be better.” She looked over to Alcher now still feeling a bit unsteady about this meeting. It was hard to see past everything that had happened, but they needed to move forward. “Adam doesn’t deserve to die for the same reason Winn didn’t deserve to die. Winn had done some terrible things, but he learned better and became better. Nothing will ever truly make up for the lives they have taken, but they both want and wanted to be better. Become a person that doesn’t cause others pain.” It seemed like it was sinking in more though Alcher couldn’t quite fully grasp what she meant. The kindness she’d experienced from hunters, werewolves, vampires, zombies, and banshees alike had painted the way she saw the world. As cruel as the world had been to her, there’d always been those who showed her care in her worst moments. It had been what pushed her forward, made her more determined to make the world just a little bit better. Sometimes, it felt a little too idealistic, even to her in the midst of everything happening with Lydia, but she had to try. For herself. For Celeste. For any future generations that came behind them. As she rested her chin in her palms, she said, “I try to be a good person as much as anyone else. I don’t want others to go through the pain I’ve gone through. I think, at the heart of things, you’re good, too. You have your whole mission of helping wolves. To an extent, that’s still true. I know some hunters will never change their ways, but I know enough who have shown me nothing but kindness that I believe things can get better for all of us. That maybe one day, people won’t keep losing the ones they love entirely too soon and too violently.” She shook her head and explained, “It only takes one person to start. To be better than those that came before them for it to spark change.”

There was a frown on her face as Alcher explained how she lost her family. Ariana was almost grateful that the night Celeste saved her had been a blur. She remembered howls and gunfire, but outside of that, she couldn’t recall much else. Seeing how Celeste died had left her haunted more nights than not. She let out a breath and looked to Alcher with her brows unfurrowed and her eyes soft. “I’m sorry about your family. I don’t really remember the night mine died because I was too young, but that really does sound terrible. I appreciate that you want to keep Layla and I safe. To look out for us. I really do, I just don’t think this is the way. I think Layla would have ended up regretting it. Her and Adam were friends aside from the fact Layla doesn’t like violence. Hell, she doesn’t even eat meat for most of the month. I saw how much accidentally killing someone destroyed her. I know she’s upset now and misses Winn, I do too, but this would have only made it worse. I don’t want to watch her spiral or do something reckless again. She’s my best friend and I’m supposed to look out for her on all counts, you know?” Ariana could understand how Alcher’s experience was so different from her own. A hunter never spared her, cared for her. Not the way Celeste had done for her and even Layla. It seemed wrong to bring that up now though. “I know he won’t. Well, not unless you literally try to kill him again but that becomes more self defense than anything. You couldn��t have known that, but you could have kept talking to me about it first instead of just signing off on me.”

Having this conversation over and over again was becoming exhausting. People seemed so committed to misunderstanding her intentions that Ariana found herself having to bite back the frustration. It wouldn’t help with her overall goal. “I’d never suggest you just let them come kill you. There’s a huge difference between self defense and specifically seeking someone out to kill them. There’s no reason anyone should just lay back and die. We deserve a chance at a happy life as much as anyone else.”

For all her youth, Ariana was wise beyond her years. Alcher was keenly aware of this. She was sharper than most, she understood intentions better than most. Her emotional intelligence far out wieghed most any other wolf Alcher had encountered, aside from herself and probably her mother. Alcher didn’t often find herself thinking of her mother and the tidbits of wisdom she had given her-- Alcher was much more like her father. Stalwart, astute, observant. She was great at understanding those around her and using words and actions to get them to follow her, to listen to her. Her mother had always favored Klaus, whomst Alcher distinctly remembered calling a crybaby for a large portion of their childhoods. He was sensitive, emotional, moody. The complete opposite of her, and this was why their father had picked Alcher to be his successor, to be the head of the family when the time came. Except, the time never came. And in the end, it was Klaus who had saved her. She was alive not out of pragmatism or leadership, but out of emotional response and love. She felt her heart ache for Klaus the most. “An eye for an eye makes the whole world blind,” she mumbled quietly, and that was her only response to Ariana for the moment, as she listened again. Tried to understand why she felt the way she did, why she would want to defend a hunter. Why she thought not fighting would end the violence. Why she thought one person could make a difference.

But, in the end, was that not Alcher’s motivation, as well? To end the violence, one hunter at a time? Perhaps they were not so different. It was simply their methods that differed. Vastly. Uncompromisingly. She turned a sullen glance Ariana’s direction and pondered a moment longer. “I failed my family, Ariana, and I’m still making up for it. I traveled around helping out lost packs because I knew I needed to make up, somehow, for the loss. I felt beholden to that pain for so long. Layla might be young, as are you, but she is still responsible for her own decisions. She came to me, asking for this. If someone had come to me and offered me that opportunity, as a child, to look the hunters in the face who had hunted down my family, I would have taken it, too.” Instead, though, Alcher had had to hunt them down and find them herself. And then after, she’d still found she still missed her family. It wasn’t enough, their blood wasn’t enough. She’d needed more. And maybe, she though, Layla would want more, too. She was not so sure now. “Part of learning, part of growing, is figuring out what decisions to make, and living with those consequences. Whatever she decides now, I will stand by her. But,” and Alcher had to strain herself to stay relaxed as she said the next bit, “I will not go after your friend myself. But if he comes after me or Layla, I will not hesitate. You can tell him that.”

Ariana’s last words were not comforting. Alcher’s brow furrowed but she hid it behind a deflated sigh, brushing hands through her hair. Happiness was beyond her, she knew that much. She’d left it behind in the Canadian forest, buried with her mate. She stared at the red streaks on Ariana’s face, reaching out tentatively. “I am sorry I hurt you,” she said quietly, and a genuine guilt rose in her throat. Despite all his anger and discipline, not even her father had ever struck her across the face, “I have something that will help with the scarring, if you would like it. It’s an old family recipe, one that I’ve used myself many times.”

By all indication, the two wolves were reaching an understanding. Ariana had hoped for as much. How could she possibly help make things better if she couldn’t even sway other wolves to try and see her perspective? In all reality, they weren’t that different. They both wanted a better world for others like them. They’d both lost their families in terribly violent ways and were trying to honor them in the best ways they knew how. Nothing would ever take away their pain or bring their family back, but if one less wolf had to go through that brutal loss, the world would be all the better for it. She knew Alcher wanted the same thing. It was why she travelled around helping packs as best she could. “Exactly,” she said with a short nod as she didn’t have much more to add to the subject. They’d found some common ground which was all she hoped to come from this.

There was a small frown on her face still as she listened to Alcher. Better than most, Ariana knew how easy it was to blame yourself for the loss of loved ones. To hold on to some ounce of control that was nonexistent. Morgan had put it so well and she kept finding it to be more and more true. It didn’t lessen the blame she felt in regards to Sammy’s or even Celeste’s death, but it was a good reminder. “You didn’t fail your family,” Ariana said softly, “A friend told me this once and I’m inclined to believe her because I’ve found it to be true for myself. Blaming ourselves is easier because it gives us some fake idea that we had any control in what happened to us, that we have any control outside of our own actions. I’m still- I don’t know, I still wrestle with that, too, but I don’t think your family would believe you failed them.” While she didn’t doubt Layla had made her own choice there, she liked to think she knew Layla well enough to know that she’d eventually regret it. Anger had a funny way of clouding one’s judgment, this she knew better than most. “I know she’s responsible for her own choices, I do. I just think I know her well enough to know that eventually that choice would eat her up. Layla’s one of the most compassionate people I’ve ever met. I understand that choice, I really do. I’ve… thought of it myself a few times. Not necessarily with the hunters that killed my parents and sister-- that came down to self defense and protecting others, but what’s going on now. Part of me wants revenge, but I don’t think it’ll make me feel any better. Maybe it’d keep others safe, but I don’t know. I wish I could properly talk it over so I could figure it out.”

Her features softened as Alcher agreed to not go after Adam again without being provoked. Tension she didn’t realize had been building up in her seemed to fade away as her shoulders relaxed. “I appreciate that, Alcher. I really do. I can assure you he won’t be coming after you or Layla.” Was that in part due to the fact he was without powers at the moment? It could have been, but he did advise he owed her a favor. “I would never ask you to not defend yourself or Layla if it ever came to that. It does mean a lot to me that you won’t hurt him again otherwise,” she said earnestly. The marks on her face were long since forgotten until she mentioned it again. A remedy would be good. As badass as the scars looked, she did like her face. “I’d appreciate the remedy. I think the kids and my boss were a little more freaked out by it than anything else. I have a pretty high pain tolerance, it’s just… not the most professional look.”

Alcher was not sure she could believe Ariana’s words, that she did not fail her family, but she could not explain to her why. Not many truly understood, because not many lived the way her family did. They did not understand how their pack functioned. She understood that it was quite different from most modern packs, but they were more than just a pack-- they were family, by blood, by bond, by everything that mattered. Even the branch packs understood that. Alcher felt her body deflating, but tried her best to keep her composure. She’d built walls upon walls up inside of herself, she wondered if it was even possible to take them down, now, to let someone in. To have another pack, another family. She didn’t know, and she wasn’t sure she was brave enough to try-- to find something happy again, only to lose it. Not with so many hunters around, not with her two wolves the way they were. After a moment, Alcher smiled, morose and far off. “You do not know my father,” she said softly, shaking her head. Alcher almost couldn’t remember his voice, by this point, it had been so long. But she remembered the hard lines in his forehead and the color of his fur, and the way his whole body shifted when he was angry, whether he was wolf or man. “I suppose more than anything, I just miss them,” she admitted quietly.

Alcher paused. She thought for a moment, about how killing her family’s killers made her feel, about what her heart was telling her. “I can not speak for Layla, but I do not think killing those who have hurt us is about feeling better. I do not feel better about my family knowing their killers are dead as well, but rather, I feel better knowing they can not hurt anyone else like that. That they can not take away anyone else’s family,” she murmured quietly. “Perhaps that was what she was feeling. That tremendous loss weighed heavy on her soul, I could feel that much. Sometimes we make decisions we regret, but we must still carry them, and all the better if we have people there to carry them with us. That’s what I wish to be with her,” she looked to Ariana again, “with you. That’s all.”

Softly, she brushed the side of Ariana’s face with the claw marks, calloused fingers light on her skin. “I will drop it off for you tomorrow,” she said, smiling again, a little lighter this time, “it truly works wonders. My mother used to swear by it.” When their father got done punishing them or working them, their mother, soft and sweet and with the kindest eyes, would come in and heal them, with gentle hands and her family remedy. Alcher’s eyes saddened for a moment. Was she becoming more of her father than her mother? And...was that bad? “I promise I will never harm you like this again. It is...not the person I am or want to be,” she said, and she wasn’t sure if that was the truth or not, but in the moment, it was the only thing she wanted to say.

While it was true Ariana didn’t know her father, she had to believe that if he loved her as he should have, that he’d be proud of Alcher no matter what. Even if Ariana didn’t love the way in which she stood by her convictions, she still stood by them. That was something that was worthy of respect. Maybe all parents didn’t show the same unconditional support Celeste had always provided her with, but even so, Ariana knew there was no way she could truly fail her family when Alcher seemed to take it upon herself to honor them everyday. Keep them alive in some way however small it was. Better than anyone, Ariana knew how important that was. “I don’t have to know him to know you didn’t fail him,” she said simply.

She listened as Alcher spoke even if she didn’t believe it to be true. Layla knew Adam. She had to know he didn’t go around killing supernatural people for no reason. It didn’t make killing Winn any more or less okay, but she knew it made Layla’s motives different than what Alcher was saying. There wasn’t much left to say on the matter so she simply nodded, “I do appreciate you supporting her the way you are. I don’t think she’s had a lot of that in her life. I still don’t agree it was the way to go about things, but I am happy she has someone like you. I’m glad I have someone like you, too.”

Alcher’s touch was gentle and caring despite the fact she was the one who caused the injury. She seemed genuinely sorry for it and Ariana smiled slightly at the mention of dropping by. She’d be alone most of the day tomorrow with no class or work and Athena back to classes. It wasn’t something she particularly looked forward to considering her own emotions left her distraught more often than not these days so she’d welcome the company. “I’ll see you then. And thank you. I understand things happen and you’re still important to me.” Things seemed a bit lighter now no longer having this weighing heavy on her heart. A pack had been something she’d always wanted and the thought of losing that had affected her more than she thought. There was some solace in knowing that some bonds weren’t so easily broken.

#the moon always rises #wickedswriting #abuse tw #parental death tw

10 notes · View notes