#so sorry that the scout one looks EXACTLY the same as my last drawing of him with crutches- I'm so original </3 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

LOOPS RAILING CAP IN THE SHOWER - cause we all know he deserves it after a game

Not exactly after a game, but still some fun and frisky locker room shower times. Coops (and James) credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for smut, being sort-of walked in on (only after everything is said and done), cramping muscles

“Hurry up,” Sirius hissed as he teetered on one foot and accidentally dipped the toe of his sock into the water pooling beneath him.

“I’m trying!” Remus whispered back, still elbows-deep in his duffel bag. His face lit up and he rocked back on his heels with a small container.

“Absolutely not,” Sirius said immediately.

“It’s all I have!”

“Mon dieu,” he muttered, yanking his other sock off and kneeling by his own bag. “There is no universe in which that bullshit is going up my ass.”

“It’s Vaseline, baby, not battery acid.”

Sirius turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “It’s sticky, it’s slimy, and it’s cold as shit. You hate it, too!”

“Fair point.”

With a quiet, triumphant ‘ha!’, Sirius emerged with a small tube of clear aloe gel. “Who’s the Boy Scout now, sweetheart?”

“You’re the Boy Scout,” Remus grumbled, wincing as he stood and his knees crackled. “Alright, scoot, we don’t have a ton of time.”

“Oh, baby, talk dirty to me,” Sirius deadpanned.

Remus made a face to hide his smile. “Shut up, you.”

He peeked around the edge of the shower stall once more before backing up against the wall, then stifled a shout at the cold tile between his shoulder blades. “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

“We do have a perfectly good shower at home.” Despite his words, Sirius could see the gleam of excitement in Remus’ eye as he was beckoned forward. The idea of maybe possibly maybe getting caught was a bit embarrassing if he thought about it too long, but it still sent a thrill through every nerve. That may have just been the feeling of Remus’ warmth on his front mixing with the chill on his back, though.

“Do you—” Sirius cut himself off with one more heated kiss, sliding a hand down Remus’ neck and laughing slightly at the squeak of his wet skin. “I wanna see you. Can you hold me up?”

Remus hummed, then pulled back with a thoughtful look. “Not before stretching. Sorry.”

“Pas de problem, mon coeur.” Sirius uncapped the aloe and handed it to Remus, using the side wall of the stall as a brace to hold himself up. He prayed his own tired muscles would do the job and not send them both tumbling to the floor in a heap of horniness.

“Here, let me…” Remus bit his lower lip and looped an arm under Sirius’ knee, lifting his leg around his waist. “Will that cramp?”

“Nah.”

He looked skeptical, but didn’t protest as he slicked his fingers and ran them down Sirius’ cleft. The water had finally started warming up to a more comfortable temperature; Sirius closed his eyes with a sigh and soaked in the feeling, letting the familiar tingles wash over him while Remus dragged his teeth along the side of his neck and the pad of his first finger slid in.

“You have magic fingers,” he murmured, gasping when cold air hit his pulse point. Whoever created aloe gel, I owe you a fruit basket.

He could feel Remus’ smile as his hitched-up thigh started trembling. “Merci.”

A door slammed down the hall and they both jerked in surprise—the digit rubbing gently around his outer muscle slipped very deep inside on very short notice and Sirius’ yelp was quickly muffled by Remus’ palm. “Fucking Christ,” he wheezed, torn between moaning in contentment and shrieking like a little girl at the sudden intrusion.

“Sorry, sorry, it was an accident.” Remus kissed his cheek. “Are you okay?”

“All good.”

“Will this be enough?"

“Considering we have—” Sirius did some awkward gymnastics to spot the wall clock. “—shit, just under an hour until the guys should start showing up, it’ll have to be.”

Remus chewed on the inside of his lip and glanced at the aloe. “I don’t know…”

“Hey.” Sirius cupped his face and kissed him. “This isn’t my first horse show.”

“Rodeo.”

“Same thing.” Remus’ lips twitched upwards and warmth spread all the way down to his toes, not just from the showerhead still spraying them like a firehose. “Besides, God knows you stretched me well enough last night.”

His concern turned to smugness and he crooked his finger slightly. “I did, didn’t I?”

“Bastard.”

The playful insult came out a little breathy as Sirius leaned his head back against the wall, losing himself to Remus’ practiced movements and damp, smooth skin touching him everywhere, everywhere, everywhere. Something blunt and quite a bit slicker nudged his entrance after a moment—after a slow exhale on Remus’ part and a whine from Sirius, he was in to the hilt with all ten fingers gripping Sirius’ hips.

“Oh, fuck.” Sirius was rather winded for reasons he couldn’t spare the braincells to name, and Remus laughed under his breath as he began to move. “Oh, fuck.”

“Shh.”

“I can’t.”

“I know you can.”

“I don’t want to,” Sirius corrected, rocking his hips to match Remus’ thrusts. His fingers began to get sore from holding the stall so tight, but heat was building in his gut and he was hard enough to almost hurt in the best way. “God, there.”

“Not god, just me.”

He flicked his arm with a teasing grin. “Smartass. This is exciting.”

“Uh-huh.” Remus caught him by the thigh as his other knee buckled after a particularly nice angle. “Can’t hold you, can’t hold you, baby—”

“Got it,” Sirius managed, propping himself up again. A clunky door echoed in a faraway corridor and he heard Remus’ breath catch. “Keep going.”

“Someone’s gonna hear.”

“So?” He quirked an eyebrow and wrapped his free arm around Remus’ upper chest, drawing him even closer for a kiss that was more tongue than lips. “That’s the whole point, right?”

“The point—” Remus punctuated his words with a harder thrust that left Sirius’ scrabbling for grip on the wet tiles with a shaky sound. “—is that we could get caught. We could get caught, and then everyone would see how whiny, and needy, and lovely you are while you’re begging for me.”

“Oh my god,” Sirius practically whimpered. He swallowed hard and wrapped his leg tighter around Remus’ waist.

The water was starting to lose some of its heat, but he was dizzy with lust, and pure pleasure dripped like wildfire through his veins. “Actually, I think they already know,” Remus murmured into the hollow of his throat, leaving a light bite there. “Our friends don’t need to find us fucking in the showers, do they? They just need to take one look at you and they’ll know that as soon as I get you between the sheets, you’re a wreck.”

Sirius’ eyes fluttered shut; he couldn’t seem to close his mouth anymore, nor could he muffle the short, guttural sounds slipping out with every quick movement. His left leg was completely numb; it was a miracle it hadn’t given out yet.

“But no,” Remus continued, hoisting him back up into the proper place with a huff. “No, we just have to be that couple that sneaks into the locker room an hour before call time because we just love to tempt fate.”

“This was—your idea—too,” Sirius panted.

“Yeah, because I can’t keep my hands off you.”

He melted into Remus’ palms as they ran along his ribs and back, then down to his ass to give it a firm squeeze. “Close?” he asked, half-slurred.

“Not as close as you.”

His free leg tried to buckle again as Remus stroked along his shaft, but he forced it to stay steady and settled for gritting his teeth around a loud moan that would surely give them away. Remus smiled and upped the pace, but kept his hips moving at the exact same speed. The contrast made Sirius’ head spin. “Please, please, please, please—”

Teeth sank into the junction of his shoulder and all the air fled his lungs. “What else do you want, baby?”

“I don’t know.” It came out far needier than he intended, but who cared? Stars were already popping at the corners of his vision, and he couldn’t even feel the lukewarm water very much anymore.

“Come.”

“I c—”

“Now.”

Sirius took one shallow breath, two, and then shuddered apart, leaning all his weight into the tiles while Remus pulled out and came on his inner thigh. Through his hazy vision, he saw they still had about forty minutes until any of the others would show up. “Love you. Oh, fuck yeah,” he sighed.

Remus made a questioning noise against his collarbone; Sirius felt his heartbeat pounding under his hand.

“We’ve got time to spare.”

“Thank god,” Remus said with a breathless laugh. “I don’t actually want anyone to catch us.”

“Sounds like a nightmare,” Sirius agreed. “I think I’d rather—”

“Sup, Mad-Eye?”

Both of them froze in place as a cheerful voice rang out down the hallway. Sneakers squeaked on the linoleum floors, drawing closer every second. Sirius had gone ice cold, but he didn’t think it was just the shower’s fault.

“Go, go, go!” Remus hissed, yanking away.

Unfortunately, Sirius’ thigh decided that was the perfect moment to cramp so hard it made his vision go white for a second. As soon as his foot touched the ground, his whole hamstring seized, and he doubled over with a strained “motherfucker!”

“Get up!”

“I can’t!”

James’ footsteps were getting louder. Sirius cursed under his breath and limped after Remus into the shitty little janitor’s closet in the corner, wedging himself next to a mop as he bit down on his knuckles to stifle the pained groans building in his throat. Remus shot him an apologetic look and squeezed his hand in sympathy.

The closet was not meant for much more than a handful of emergency cleaning supplies, let alone two mid-season-muscled hockey players. They were pressed chest-to-chest, holding their breath as doom approached.

Well, not doom. Just utter, world-ending humiliation. Not the kinky kind, either.

James whistled to himself as he neared the locker room—two seconds after Sirius buried his face in the side of Remus’ neck to breathe through the agony in his leg, the door slammed open and his best friend began clattering around.

All of a sudden, the room fell silent. Shit.

“Hello?” James called, sounding much too amused for his own good. “Anyone in here?”

Sirius’ pulse hammered in his ears.

“Huh. Looks like somebody left the shower on,” James said with a dramatic gasp. “And what’s this? Two whole duffel bags?”

Fuck, Remus mouthed as Sirius straightened up with a wince.

James started laughing. Deep, deep in his soul, Sirius knew he had spotted the aloe. The squeaking stopped just outside the closet. “Good morning,” James singsonged, though he didn’t open the door.

Remus opened his mouth, resigned, but Sirius jabbed him in the chest with his pointer finger and shot him a warning look. They weren’t going to engage in conversation while naked and crammed in a janitor’s closet. Especially not when James Potter was on the other side.

“I think it’s a little early for all this, but I could be wrong.” He could almost see James shrugging through the thick wood. “I suppose you’ve gotta take what free time you have. Cap, your showers are a lot nicer than these, though. At least they stay warm for more than a few minutes.”

Remus thudded his forehead against Sirius’ sternum.

“Alright, alright,” James said after a moment of quiet. “If anyone were to perhaps be hiding after getting off in the shitty team showers at seven in the morning—at least, I hope you got off—they should feel free to come out of the closet in a much more literal sense because I am leaving. And I will be out of the locker room for five minutes. Once again, that is five minutes, and then I will be back in here to get ready for my job like a responsible adult.”

The door opened and closed again with a click. They both waited with bated breath.

“Ugh, fine,” James groaned. The hinges creaked, his footsteps faded, and there was a loud slam as it shut for real.

“I’m going to kill him,” Sirius said as they shuffled out of the closet, knocking over several spray bottles in the process. “Really, I will.”

“I’ll help you bury the body,” Remus said wearily as he tossed the aloe back in his bag with a sigh. “That was horrific. Think we can sneak out and back in without him noticing?”

Sirius narrowed his eyes at the door. “The son of a bitch will be waiting for us. It’s better to just accept our fate and let him have this.”

“We’re putting shaving cream in his gloves after this, right?”

“Actually, I think Vaseline would be better.”

#fanfic #my fic #sirius black #remus lupin #coops #wolfstar #lumosinlove #sweater weather #smut #shower #james potter #alastor moody

250 notes · View notes

oh-for-fic-sake · 3 years

Text

Your Perfect

Masterlist

Summary: Alphas were strong and fierce, the ultimate protective dominant companion. Omegas were sweet loyal and fertile submissive. Alphas were huge. Omegas were tiny. Or so they say, but there were always exceptions to the rule.

Warnings: A/B/O, slight Angst, Fluff, mentions Of Breeding, Mentions Of Heat Cycles, RPF

A/M: so wanted to do a different take on the typical A/B/O a little role reversal~ I hope you all enjoy!

Taglist: in reblogs

You froze on the spot scenting the air. They were here. Your omega. It probably wasn't the best first impression onset, freezing in the middle of the gangway head up alert scenting, searching with both your nose and eyes the many small males walking past.

With a deep inhale you began the hunt. Instincts pulling at you frantically as the spiced delectable scent moved. Your omega had caught a whiff of you on the air and was trying to avoid you. They where panicked weaving about the crowd trying to escape the alpha that was on their trail. With a little luck your size would throw them if they did look around for you as they tried escaping.

To look at you wouldn't have been thought to be alpha, a thick supple woman all of five foot four. Normally female alphas were tall Amazonian muscular goddesses! But you, broke the mould. Like a hammer to a landmine.

You chased the scent ducking and diving around the many busy bodies, abandoning where you were meant to be in favour of locating your mate. It didn't take long to track them as in a frantic rush they lead you out of the throngs of people to the more quiet area of set, the trailers.

They were trying to run to their nest, it was their safety. A beta security guard tried to stop you, but with a snap of your jaws and viscous snarl they stumbled back. Noting the bright red ring outlining your pupil separating the black from your colourful iris. The sure sign of an alpha chaseing their mate.

Once you growled enough making the beta submit you looked forward again and continued, stalking towards your omega. The scent was muffled so they'd reached their nest, not that it would do any good, he was yours and you'd find him.

You slowly stepped down the row of trailers nose in the air sniffing around each one mentally crossing off each one. Then froze. There. The dark grey on your left, with the twitching blind. You walked passed slowly scouting for any danger, needing to inspect your new territory but kept an eye on your omegas nest.

Then once finished your walk round you came to a stop. You could feel it, anxiety and panic radiating from the nest. It made you falter and whine low in your throat. He was scared? Terrified you could smell shame on the air! In that moment all you wanted to do was scoop him up and hold him, make him see there was nothing to be ashamed or afraid of, you'd never hurt him. Only love and protect him.

You stepped up to the door and knocked slowly, your stomach twisting as you heard the footsteps inside and deep fearful pants, laboured breaths loud enough to be heard through the door.

"Omega. Its okay, I wont- I'm in control I wont hurt you" you started speaking low and calmly despite being torn up inside, you wanted to comfort him, stop him from becoming overwhelmed. You heard a small whimper from the other side and another wave of acidic fear hit you making you scrunch your nose in distaste.

"I promise I wouldn't have followed if I wasn't sure, please. Open the door? I just want to see you, I wont do anything if you don't want me too...Please" you pleaded pressing a hand to the cool metal of the bus. You wanted to see him but you wont break in, even if it was probably for the best. Many omegas panic until they meet their alphas properly, face to face. And with the both of you working onset there was only soo much you could take before hunting him down properly like all the horror stories that make the headlines.

"I can sense this is hard for you- your embarrassed you shouldn't be, I wont judge you... I wont many males are omega and its perfectly fine" There was a small shuffle and a deep shaky breath before the door handle was clicked and the door was inched open.

"Y-you promise?" Was the weak reply that tugged on your heart strings. Your need to comfort him when he sounded so upset and defeated. Lonely and scared. You tipped your head to the side peering through the crack in the door. You understood, much like a female alpha was an anomaly male omegas were too, mostly bullied growing up because of being omega. There were less accepted the female alpha. A female alpha could be sexualized as 'dominatix' and 'domme'. Omega males were victims of slurrs such as 'sissy boy' 'nancy boy'.

"I swear, wont you let me in? We can just talk, or snuggle if you like-whatever you want to do nothing more" you added trying to hide the desperation in your voice. You held your breath as your omega sniffled quietly and whined once more. You could scent the desperation on him too, he wanted to seek you out but was frightened, unsure of himself.

After a few moments a large hand appeared pressing the door open and holding a hand out to you palm up finally giving into his need for reassurance. You let out a sigh of relief and quickly help his hand shuddering as the contact sent goosbumps up your arm. You took a moment to admire the way his hand locked with yours so perfectly, despite dwarfing yours. With a gentle tug you were being pulled into his nest slowly.

You entered the bus eyes eagerly seeking out your omega. You paused seeing him. At first you didn't even click who he was you just revelled in his presence. The feeling of finally being here with your mate, having him before you after a lifetime of guessing just who fate had instore for you. You were surprised people had joked your mate would be tiny if you were the alpha! But they were wrong. He was huge both wide and tall, muscular and.

"Perfect... Your perfect" you uttered as he blushed ducking his head down trying to hide it. His other hand twiddling with his shirt nervously. You climbed the steps letting the door close behind you finally standing on the same level as your stunning mate.

"You... you mean it? I-I know I'm not...a typical omega my size and strength it of an alpha and its weird, you can refuse me if you want-" he began his anxiety rising with each word the pungent scent making the air thick and unpleasant. You hushed him quickly speaking over him.

"Didn't I just say your perfect Henry... your perfect just the way you are" you said still marvelling at your omega. You didn't really care who he was. You were far to enamoured with the realisation that he was your omega. He was like you, unique and wonderful. Exactly how he was meant to be... apart from those hormones mixed in with the scent of suppressant's. You leant forward sniffing and frowned momentarily.

"Hormones? You've been trying to hide?" You were right. He hung his head feeling deflated before nodding to you ashamed.

"I... Sorry its... People that find out are... They ridicule me I hate it" he said slowly it made your heart clench. It angered you. Just like everything else in life if you didn't fit the social norms you were pressured to change it. He had been taking hormonal supplements to try and force himself to be alpha. Tried to cover up his true presentation to fit in. You understood he was large and muscular and a perfect embodiment of the 'perfect male' handsome strong features, the deep voice and charming confident personality. Yet he was an omega. Its probably why he felt the need to push himself so much. He was over compensating.

"Don't worry about them I'm here now" you uttered moving pressing a hand to his cheek making him look at you. He gapsed when he locked eyes feeling the bond begin to form already just with the simplest of gestures.

"Do you trust me?" You asked slowly still trying to be mindful of how skittish he seemed. He nodded unable to deny the feeling of trust and warmth. You felt like home and calm in a way he never felt before.

"Good boy... i promise to look after you my sweet omega" you cooed letting a low rumble of your purr into your words easing his fears. You could taste him on your tongue the air around you becoming more relaxed and welcoming the anxiety lifting making you breath a sigh of relief. He whined before dipping his head to you pressing his forehead to your shoulder prompting you to encircle him with a bear hug. He shuddered before sniffling returning the hug whimpering as sobs wracked his body uttering 'alpha' over and over holding you tighter with each call.

You blinked away your own tears you swayed while him. It was overwhelming for him. You dread to think what hell he has been through just because he is omega, especially in the business she was in. But you ere proud, so very proud of him to navigate his career and become so successful despite being an omega? He hadn't let it hold him back like many others who hid in fear of being found out. You rubbed his back and tipped your head pressing kisses to his neck that bared to you.

"Your alright.... your alright I've got you now, I've got you omega come one lets go lay down hmm? We can go and snuggle for a while if you'd like?" you hummed to him pressing kiss after kiss along the side of his throat. As much as you wanted to mark him you resisted, the last thing you need to do while he is in this fragile state is breed him. Mate him and tie him to you for god knows how long. Plus the suppressants would make it doubly hard, your body would tighten and lock around him despite him not being able to truly breed you. It could cause problems for the both of you. It would be best to wait until next months cycle hit and he let him fall into heat.

"Y-yeah, with Kal too?" He uttered still sniffing you, drawing deep breaths in trying to drown in your scent. You grinned against his neck nuzzling him rubbing your own scent onto his skin.

"Of course with Kal too love" you replied with a grin pulling back a little to eye the akita who was tilting his fluffy head at you trying to understand what was happening.

"Come on off to bed" you said prodding his tummy playfully giggling as he squirmed chuckling and grinning whislt pawing at his eyes trying to wipe away his lingering tears.

"O-okay... we wont?" You shook your head as he trailed off cheeks glowing from the mere mention of mating.

"As much as I would love to claim and mate you, we will wait until your heat, et those suppressants and hormone supplements out of your system~" you reassured him whist ushering him deeper into the bus towards the bedroom area. He chuckled nervously before turning calling Kal to the bedroom as he eagerly scrabbled onto it, wanting nothing more then to curl up and cuddle with you.

You released a deep breath watching as he and the bear got comfy. Your omegas huge blue eyes watching you as you settled down yourself and pulled him to rest his head on your chest. One hand twisted in His hair, the other letting Kal sniff you before stroking him. You grinned closing your eyes finally feeling at peace. After a long lonely life wondering you'd found your boys. And your home.

#henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #Omega!Henry X Alpha!Reader #rpf #henry cavill x you #henry cavill x y/n

353 notes · View notes

gisachi · 3 years

Text

Better late than never?? Supposed to post on the day itself but of course I couldn’t. This is my rushed contribution to the prompt: domestic mixed with black knight&princess.

ShinRan Week Day 6

Prompt: Domestic (+ Black Knight&Princess)

Words: ~2.5k

“Not just once, but twice! Who was it that saved my life again? Oh, unnamed knight with the black cloak, if you will grant me my wish… Please take off that dark mask and show me your true face!”

“If that is what, uh, the princess wishes, I shall show you my sorrow- sorrowful? - face under this moonlight. Oh wow this is cheesy.”

Ran leans on the arm of the couch, bound script covering her resigned face. If she had a hundred yen for every single complaint coming out of this detective’s mouth, she’d have enough to buy two entrance passes to Tropical Land for each day of the week, plus snacks and drinks.

“I went here because I thought you’d be a more immersive practice partner than ‘tou-san. You are worse.”

“I’m sorry, princess, if my mom being an actress ruined your expectations of me.”

“Oh, for sure. And otou-san doesn't destroy the scene by dropping nonsensical comments. And lie on the couch while reading the script. So he’s better by a lot.”

Shinichi props his body up, eyes rolling sarcastically before throwing a look at the lady on the edge. “To be fair, you came barging into my house so early on a Sunday. This is justified.”

“Shinichi, eleven in the morning isn’t early.”

With a stubborn grumble, the detective flops back into the cushions, script on his lap sliding to the floor. “ ’M tired Ran, long case last night, let me sleep.”

“Please, you’re my last option! School festival is in less than two weeks, and I can’t possibly ask Araide-sensei to spare time on a weekend outside of our rehearsal schedule when he’s busy working—”

The lightning speed Shinichi jolts upright causes Ran to cut herself short. “Araide-sensei is the cloaked knight?”

“Yes, didn’t I tell you?”

“You didn’t.”

“Really? I-” she pauses, delayed in taking in the curt iciness of his response when he was so apathetic five seconds ago. On anyone else it’s clear what that tone implies, but she’s never heard it on him.

“Do you have a beef with Araide-sensei?” she asks.

“A beef?”

Ran arches an eyebrow, skeptic. Shinichi meets her gaze, eyes slightly thinning before glancing away, cheeks crimson.

“I mean— Why Araide-sensei? Shouldn’t he be busy, I dunno, being a doctor, than being a fictional knight or something.”

“All the guys in our class were too shy and declined, so Sonoko asked Araide-sensei when he happened to come in for a checkup. He agreed so easily! Would you believe he’d taken a lot of lead roles in plays when he was a student?”

“And that was fifteen something years ago.”

“He’s also good at things like emphasizing lines and handling a woman!”

“Anyone can- What?!”

“Stop being a sourpuss Shinichi, especially when you’re the first to decline.”

He looks at her quizzically. “I did?”

“You don’t even remember?” Amidst the faint pink on her cheeks, disappointment etched on the way Ran’s lips curve to a small pout. “You were the first Sonoko asked... You were so quick to turn her down, she said.”

Astounded by the revelations docking in his brain all at once, Shinichi struggles to recall the conversations he had exchanged with Sonoko the past weeks. None stands out. If she had included Ran’s name in there, he would remember instantly. But Sonoko didn’t. Suddenly, the floodgates in his mind open.

If he finds out later on about the plot and the cast, he’ll definitely find a reason or two to sulk, if not object. Whether Ran is partnered with someone else or Araide-sensei doesn’t matter, for as long as it isn’t him. Him who she’s positive would outright reject her offer to act as a prince because why would he? In any case, god knows Sonoko omitted Ran’s name on purpose for this.

The sly woman has stirred something up, and she will proudly take the front row seat on his reaction she was so sure he’d make.

Not saying Sonoko’s predictions are right. This is just how she thinks. And he won’t react the way she expects he will. She is not right.

Not. Right.

Sonoko, yaro...

“Stand up, let’s do this.”

“Huh?”

“You want immersive? I’ll give you immersive.”

Left with little time to process as Shinichi pulls her by the hand, Ran drops her script on the floor. The sudden shift in character is unbelievable. How can someone so sleep-deprived turn into someone this enthused in a span of a breath?

“But first, let me…” He leaves the room, and Ran picks up her script, still quite lost. Whatever she said earlier must have triggered something, and she’s torn if she’ll ask once he returns but considers the possibility that he may break character. Not gonna risk that. He said he’ll give her an immersive practice, and it’s oddly unexpected, but she’ll take it. This is good. After all, she needs him as the knight.

Wants him as the knight.

“Sheesh, Ran, stop…” Shying away from her own maidenly thoughts, Ran flips to the designated page, scene, and line, rehearsing as she waits.

Some minutes later, Shinichi reappears, holding his script and something else. Of all things she would expect him to own, a blue fancy Columbina mask adorned with elegant silver and royal patterns wasn’t one of them.

“Mom has these things, okay,” he explains, putting it on. Ran isn’t sure if she wants to laugh or tease, but she does neither when she gets a glimpse of him with half of his face covered, and she catches her breath at the sight.

Standing against silk red curtains and brilliant glow of afternoon sunlight, he really does seem like a mysterious knight…

“Don’t laugh, idiot. After doing this for you. Wear this,” he says, and Ran zeroes in on the line of his lips because she has nowhere else to look at as he places a small barrette tiara on her hair. Doesn’t matter what he says, what they wear, even if they fail to match the daintiness of the mask and tiara. Shinichi with this on makes Shinichi as the knight much more vivid now. And Ran as the princess...

“Sorry!” She claps a hand on her warming cheek, pulls back a dumb smile she doesn’t notice she is wearing. “And I— I wasn’t laughing!”

“Still smiling creepily though.”

“I wasn’t being creepy! Geez. Anyway! Page-”

“Page 27, Scene 8, Line 10. Got it.”

After some short blocking instructions, they drop their scripts on the couch, and begin.

“Oh, unnamed knight with the black cloak, if you will grant me my wish… Please take off that dark mask and show me your true face!”

“If that is what the princess wishes, I shall show you my sorrowful face under this moonlight.”

Two steps forward and he removes the mask, and time slows down. She’s seen the same face a million times yet this time, her heart leaps like she’s laid eyes upon the most handsome face in the universe.

“Might—Might you be Spade?” She carries on, taking everything she can to maintain composure. “Long ago, you were banned from this land by my father… but now you’ve become the prince of Trump Kingdom...”

It’s nerve wracking, the way he’s strikingly still, eyes laden on her, either waiting for her next lines or admiring how beautiful she is with the tiara, she isn’t quite sure. The mask is gone, but he isn’t breaking character. Meanwhile, she’s trying her darned best to stay as Princess Heart of Bridge Kingdom.

“If you have… not forgotten about our childhood promise, then please…”

A nervous lump forms in her throat as she wraps her arms around his shoulders, and his hands find her waist, and she nearly gasps but holds it in because right now, she’s Princess Heart, not Mouri Ran asking this of Kudou Shinichi. “Please, show me on these lips.”

“As my princess so desires...”

It should be ‘the’, not ‘my.’ And there’s supposed to be another line after that, but nothing stops him as he leans in ahead of time and her eyelids flutter to the erratic beat of her heart. It’s better to be partnered with Araide-sensei in this after all. He will not mess up his lines, and she will not lose her mind the way she’s losing it now.

Two parted lips are a pucker away when the doorbell chimes, making both jolt.

Ran is first to snap out of character, as if she hasn’t had the urge to earlier.

“That—That must be Sonoko. I forgot to tell you... I invited her in.”

“Oh, great,” Shinichi says.

Forcing her limbs into working order, Ran disentangles slowly, drawing a distance. Shinichi glances at the mask in his hand, then at her, before tossing it to the couch and turning for the door. From the window, she watches him walk to the front gate, scratching the back of his head in an annoyed manner like she just woke him from sleep, but grumpier. She hasn’t seen him display much emotion on a Sunday noon the way she’s seeing him now.

Maybe I shouldn’t have bothered him, she sighs, her turn to slump onto the couch this time.

“As I was saying, the prod already scouted the finest material for the costumes, and I decided, pink suits Princess Heart— Hello? Are you listening?”

Ran nearly drops the knife she holds if not for her inhuman reflexes. “Of course! Princess Heart in pink! Yes.” Like nothing happened, she resumes slathering jam and butter on the toast she’s preparing for the three of them. She doesn’t need to look at her side to know Sonoko’s eyeing her from head to toe.

“What happened to her?” The woman turns to Shinichi who sits at the high stool by the kitchen island.

“Dunno,” he says, sounding as noncommittal as he probably appears. Her back is turned against him, but she can see his face, and god why is she blushing?

“I just helped her rehearse. For the play,” he adds.

“Oh?” Sonoko’s brow perks up her forehead, hair whipping as she turns between her and the boy across them. “Did you?”

“Yup. Page 27.”

The dramatic gasp that tears from their friend’s throat is exactly the kind of gasp they expected; even so, Ran still flinches as Shinichi’s stool rakes the floor. “You kissed and I didn’t see?!”

“Hah?!”

“No!”

The two yelp in unison.

“That’s sly! You have to do it again! I’ll judge.”

“Excuse you! It didn’t happen, what you’re thinking!”

“Sonokooo!”

“Oh, shush, Ran, this is good practice. Good practice.”

“But—”

“Relax, rehearsal is rehearsal! In the actual play, once it’s Araide-sensei, he’ll do a better job—”

“I’m going to the toilet,” Shinichi gets off the stool, jaw stiff, out of the kitchen.

“—with a hug than a kiss. Right?” Sonoko ends, once Shinichi is out of the room.

“What?” Ran’s expression is inscrutable as she faces Sonoko completely, the flush across her face befitting embarrassment or ire. “You’re losing me here!”

“Oh, you’re not going to kiss, Ran. The lights will dim before your lips touch.”

“Then why—” she puts down the bread and walks in haste to the island to flip through the script, “Wh— That’s not in here!”

“Sonoko-sama hereby deems the script revised now that we have Araide-sensei.”

“Eh...?!” Ran cannot explain the play of her reactions. On one hand, a cloud is cleared from her mind, having to worry no more about doing something she has no experience with in front of watchful eyes. On the other, bunch of half-formed thoughts whirl through her mind that goes, Shinichi and I almost kissed for nothing, for nothing we almost k-kissed, an almost kiss with Shinichi, almost—

“That won’t do! I mean— That’s so not you! T-To choose a hug over a...”

“Duh, Ran! Even if it’s just a play, I won’t enable a kiss scene between a student and a staff member. We can fake the kiss. That, or switch to hug. Or better yet, change the male lead.”

“Change the male lead? In two weeks? Who will agree?!”

“Easy.” Just in time, Shinichi returns, hands in pocket and long face worn all the way to the stool. “I know someone who will.”

‘Once it’s Araide-sensei, he’ll do a better job…’ What? Kissing Ran? Shinichi wants to puke. Sonoko needs to think things through. If this is part of her plan, it’s unacceptable, it sucks.

There’s no way, no way anyone can do a better job kissing Ran than…

“Aaaargh, what are you thinking!” He ruffles his hair in dismay, curses here and there. He only wanted to help Ran yet he almost went for it. Not as Spade but as himself. The audacity. It’s part of the script, sure, but—

If it is part of the script, then have Ran and Araide-sensei rehearsed it before?

“That’s it,” Shinichi huffs, storming out of the bathroom. If this is the kind of reaction Sonoko wants from him, she’s in for a show. Not just a show but a lifetime of curses and mental stabs. For her to go this far is unbelievable. Did Ran even agree to that? Will such a scene really happen in the play? No matter how despicable Sonoko’s methods are, he has faith she respects Ran’s preference as the female lead. No offense against Araide-sensei, but he cannot take Ran’s first kiss, whether as Spade or not.

That is not to say he knows Ran’s preference, especially when it comes to a first kiss, but… it’s not... Araide-sensei... is it?!

He cannot ascertain, not when Ran did nothing when they were about to kiss…

Okay, halt there, self. I said immersive. That’s immersive. She was acting.

All was but an act. She’s a great actress. I suck. No need to make this a big deal.

Shinichi is a pitiful mess once he’s back in the kitchen.

“My offer still stands, you know.” Sonoko sits beside him, munching a toast, while Ran is busy returning the jam in the cupboard, back against them.

“Your offer?”

Shinichi glances at Ran, then at Sonoko, with that feral grin on her lips and Shinichi does a bad job looking pissed, and it’s maddening because he is pissed, just not obvious with the blush forming across his cheek.

Reprimanding Sonoko is what he intends to do. For doing him dirty, him and Ran dirty, for dragging a staff to be the male lead, for imploring Ran to give her first kiss she’s probably saving in a different setting. All invalid reasons, when he cared less about the play before. He’s a full-time idiot, and Sonoko knows it clearly that’s why she’s offering the role again. He doesn’t want to fall into her trap, the same way he doesn’t want anyone else to be Spade when Princess Heart is Ran.

But Ran looks over her shoulder and they accidentally lock eyes, and pink blooms across her cheeks before she turns around, and suddenly the words that leave his mouth completely betray the thought process he underwent in the bathroom.

“If Ran agrees, yeah,” he says.

#shinranweek2021 #day 6 #late entry #shinran #kudou shinichi #mouri ran #fanfic #oh my god this is all over the place AHAHA #i dont want to leave this in my draft forever tho so here ya go!!

103 notes · View notes

heybeybey · 3 years

Text

Ai-Ai Gasa

Since seeing this post from @rivapetosprmcy, I keep thinking of a “sequel” of sorts where Levi catches Petra drawing the love umbrella.

Pairing: Rivetra | Levi x Petra

Genre: Romance

Summary:

What are those two up to now?

Levi decided to approach Petra and Oluo but before he can even speak up, he finally sees what Petra wrote on the wall.

Huh, so this is the reason why she always serves him tea first.

---

Levi takes the last few coins, pocketing the change before nodding at the shopkeeper in thanks. Today’s their scheduled biweekly restocking day and as usual, his squad insisted that they all go together since it can be a “bonding moment” of sorts for the whole team.

Eld and Gunther went off to restock their alcohol, medicine and bandages while he, Petra and Oluo go for the groceries. He asked Oluo and Petra to wait outside as he wraps up and pays for their items, making sure they’re not forgetting anything.

Instead of seeing them just a few steps outside of the shop, Oluo and Petra are across the street. They were facing a wall as they discuss something.

What are those two up to now?

Petra started to write something on the wall.

Great.

He leaves his subordinates alone for a few minutes and now they’re fucking around and committing vandalism.

Instead of calling out to them, Levi decided to approach Petra and Oluo. Before he can even speak up, he stops as he finally sees what Petra wrote on the wall.

Huh, so this is the reason why she always serves him tea first.

A triangle with a line in the middle. The words “Capt. Levi” and “Petra” written on each side. A heart above to top it all off.

He knows what that symbol means. Levi may be the oldest in their team but he’s not stupid.

“Ral. Bozado.” He sees the both of them freeze and if he was the type who’d laugh out loud, he’d be slapping his knee right now.

He retains his impassive face instead as Oluo immediately turns around.

“Captain Levi!” Oluo exclaimed, trying to shield the wall from him.

Petra, on the other hand, remains frozen on the spot.

“I believe I called you, Ral.”

Petra still refuses to face him and he notices how the hand holding the nail she drew the symbol with was starting to shake. He’s slightly concerned because it seems she stopped breathing too. Seeing that she won’t be turning around anytime soon, he steps forward instead, giving Oluo a pointed look to move away.

His eyes scans his and Petra’s names on the wall before turning his head towards said woman.

“You have good handwriting. Considering that you wrote this with a nail,” he says casually, as if they’re just discussing the weather and not a younger subordinate having a raging crush on her superior.

Her face is so red now, he’d think she got bitchslapped ten times.

“Captain, I’m sorry! It doesn’t mean anything. I swear!” she finally blurts out.

“Mhmm.”

“Oluo and I were just messing around, right Oluo?”

Oluo doesn’t answer. Most likely scared that he’ll get his butt kicked by the captain if he does join the conversation. Levi remains silent, assessing the situation, before speaking up to address his other subordinate.

“Oluo, go help Eld and Gunther. They’re doing a shit job for something as simple as shopping for medical supplies.”

Oluo hesitates for a moment, looking between Petra and Levi before saluting him and walking away.

“Captain, please don’t kick me out of the squad!” Petra exclaims once they’re both alone.

“Petra-”

“I’ll be on toilet duty for three months! Or! Paperwork maybe? Do you want me to do all your paperwork instead? Of course, you’ll still have to supervise but at least you don’t have to stay up late every night-

“Ral-”

“No, wait. I’ll buy all your cleaning supplies for a year straight or-or- I can pay for all your tea supplies-”

“My salary’s higher than yours, Ral.”

“There must be some way I can make up for this. Do you want me to shoulder the whole team’s chores instead? I didn’t mean to disrespect you captain-”

“Pet-”

“I promise I’ve never allowed my feelings to get in the way!”

“Feelings?” he replies in an almost amused tone. “I thought you said it doesn’t mean anything.”

She finally deflates. “Captain, I’m sorry...”

He watches her and it’s quite comical that the woman in front of him is the type who’d be brave enough to jump straight into a titan’s mouth and kill it from the inside out. By just (accidentally) revealing a crush, her whole body’s shaking and he just knows she’s about to cry.

He feels his chest tighten at that thought.

Awkward silence. Deep down, he knows he should shout at her to stop this shit at once. Romance and feelings shouldn’t have a place in the Scouts. Not when there’s a risk that they’ll die every month. Instead of listening to his better judgement, he allows his curiosity to get the best of him instead.

“Is this what you meant when you said that you wanted to devote yourself to me?”

Petra seems to realize that there’s no way out of his question. Lying will only get her in further trouble. Who knows what the commander would do if he finds out? Much more if he learns that she flat out lied to her direct commanding officer? “...yes, sir.”

“I see.” He’s quiet for a moment, watching Petra deflate further. It seems the woman may be thinking that she really will get kicked out of the Special Ops now.

Levi, for all his attempts to repress his sexual urges and feelings, does recognize the fact that his 24-year-old subordinate is beautiful. She’s also kind and skilled to boot. He’s seen the way Oluo looks at her and how even some Scout recruits try to find the guts to approach her and ask her for “tips” when really, it’s just a veiled attempt to get closer to her.

He never allows himself to explore feelings beyond friendship when it comes to Petra. He shouldn’t have even allowed friendship in the first place. How she wormed her way in, he still doesn’t know to this day.

Levi continues when he noticed that Petra’s emotions show just how her mind is starting to spiral downwards, his voice more quiet than before. “I’m not worth it, Petra.”

That causes her head to snap up. “Sir?”

“You’re better off with someone who’s not a grumpy midget.” He remembers how Hange can also get creative when describing people.

In his mind, it’s true. He’s a 34-year-old man who never had a girlfriend. He knows how to kill titans but he doesn’t even know how to romance a girl. He’s a former thug from the Underground and 90% of the women he’d met are taller than him. He knows that if not for his “Humanity’s Strongest” status, he’d be the last man most would choose to go out on a date with.

He actually heard it once, while he and Erwin were walking along a street in Sina. Two women were giggling and whispering to one another as Levi and Erwin passed by their table in front of a tea shop.

“Oh, I’d totally bang the commander. Just look at him! I wouldn’t be surprised if half the Scouts are crushing on him. Think we can invite him over for dinner one day?”

“How about the captain? They say he’s Humanity’s Strongest Soldier.”

“He’s alright, I guess.” The woman shrugs. “A bit on the short side for my taste though.”

“With how he’s always frowning, he actually reminds me of a gremlin,” the other answers in a whisper.

“Do you think he’d be into blindfolds? I mean, I bet he’d be good in bed with all that training he gets but... you know.”

The two nobles weren’t exactly discreet in their conversation and he remembers how Erwin gave him a sympathetic look.

Not that he cares.

Levi looks at Petra again. She’s been quiet for awhile but now, he sees that she’s now looking at him softly. His squad once noted how Petra’s huge eyes just highlights her emotions even more and this is the first time that he can actually agree. He feels captivated, staring back.

“Captain...” For all her persistence to deny her feelings awhile ago, the emotions behind this one word reveals just how much truth the love umbrella holds.

Levi doesn’t give her a chance to continue. He doesn’t know what he’ll do if this conversation actually goes somewhere. He breaks eye contact and turns away from her.

“Let’s go. We need to go back to base. Training’s in an hour.”

----

Two weeks later, they went back to the market. Since they only needed to restock a few things, they didn’t need to bring the whole squad for this week’s scheduled shopping day.

He and Petra were about to cross the street when the rain started to fall. Levi took it upon himself to open the umbrella to shield them both from the rain since he only had one bag in hand.

As they huddle closer together inside the umbrella, Levi remembers their conversation a few weeks ago, the illustrated umbrella with his and her name below the sharp triangle flashes in his mind, and he feels his heartbeat quicken at the thought.

It seems Petra is thinking of the same thing as he notes the soft blush on her cheeks.

#this is cheesy af #levi x petra #petra #petra ral #petra x levi #levi ackerman #rivetra #rivapeto #levitra #not v great with fluffy stories but i just wanna publish this idea so here u have it #petra rall #attack on titan #snk

63 notes · View notes

crescentsteel · 4 years

Text

Imagination

plot: Halloween with Kiyoomi Sakusa genre: fluff, crack warnings: sorta creepy wc: 6.3k (went a bit overboard sorry lol)

A/N: - This is collab from our server @babythotshq. See others spoofy stories from our server here. - I’m posting another halloween fic later, sum Semi fluff. lmk if u wanna be tagged - Thank you so much @newfriendjen for the betaread and @aomineavenue for that idea u gave me ehe - Sakusa brainrot

Nothing beats the spirit of Halloween, the best holiday ever invented. Ghost stories, people in costumes, haunted houses, scary movies, everything about this holiday — you love and welcome them all. Last year, your Halloween adventure was you and your friends trying to make a documentary (actually it was just you hogging the camera and tripping your friends that you’re seeing apparitions) in an abandoned building.

But the highlight of that Halloween wasn’t that. It was meeting Sakusa. Albeit how sweet that sounds, the whole of it was honestly ridiculous.

A year ago, you and your coworkers agreed to join the Halloween party at the club near your office. You drew lots on what will be the theme of each person’s costume in the office. The person whose costume fits their theme the most gets a prize. When you got “something unexpected” at the draw, you were thrilled at all the possibilities your imagination could think of.

But then work fucked you up until you barely had any time left. You only had less than 48 hours to come up with an award-winning costume. As you’re scrunching for your work deadlines, you look around for possible costume inspirations. And voila, your eyes landed on that certain object near your monitor.

You laughed your head off when you pictured what you’d look like.

At the club at the night of the Halloween party, it was expected to have most people in costume. No one gave anyone a second look for being all dressed up.

Except for you.

When you entered the bar, people were staring. You made your way to your colleagues, uttering your excuse mes and sorrys to the people you bumped. Once your officemates saw you, they guffawed simultaneously. You were wearing white boots, surgical , a light blue long-sleeve top, and black short shorts. On top of the long-sleeve top and shorts was a white box hanging inches just below your thighs which made it look like a box dress. Printed on the front of the box dress was “GERMINATOR. Kill 99.9% germs” complete with its logo. At the back of it was the product’s information. It even had an improvised pump on your head. On your bare thighs was a holster holding sanitizers instead of guns.

You twirled in front of your colleagues and they all gave you a round of applause.

You were so stressed out with work that you drank your heart out before the party even began to reach its peak. Your nearing drunk ass was letting loose when your back collided with someone and you nearly tripped.

It was a guy with white streaks on his hair that was held up by gel or wax. He gasped as he took in your appearance. “Miss! Please come with me.” The guy didn’t really give you a choice when he grabbed your wrist and dragged your tipsy self to wherever.

“Omi-kun! I brought you someone.” He said while he hid you behind him.

“Really, Bo-kun? You think he’d be interested in anyone from here?” You heard someone say despite the noise. The guy who just hauled you there moved away to reveal that certain someone, aka you. You went with the flow and gave them a curtsy while your vision started to sway a bit.

You easily distinguished who he’s with since they’re all wearing the same yellow jacket. “What are you s’ppsed to be? A boy band or somethin?” you asked but no one answered.

You are met with different reactions. Two of them dropped their jaws. One had a wide smile on his face, obviously proud of finding you. Then, there was this guy you couldn’t make out because he was wearing a face mask. After recovering from their shock, the three men looked at the one who wore a face mask.

The guy with white streaks turned to you and said, “I’m Bokuto,” referring to himself. “That’s Hinata,” he pointed out to the shortest guy in orange hair. “Miya, “ the blonde one said, then grabs the face masked-guy who has a stiff frown on his half-visible face. “And this,” he pushed the face-mask man in front of you, “is Sakusa.” Everyone looked so entertained and so amused, except for the one directly in front of you. But you don’t acknowledge the somber aura coming from him. You like being the source of entertainment, especially for this event.

“Oh you unsanitary boys! You can call me,” you grab two sanitizers dramatically from your holster and pose like a sailor scout, except weirder. You couldn’t even tell how you exactly posed your arms in the air, you just let the alcohol do the work. As a finishing touch to the pose, you winked and announced, “Germinator-chan!!!”

At that, Miya spilled the drink he was about to take while Bokuto put his hands on his hips as they both laughed uncontrollably. Hinata walked beside … what was his name again? You’ll just continue calling him face-mask man. “You look so cool, Germinator-chan!!” Hinata beamed at you while scanning your whole look. “We should’ve dressed up as well,” he added with a slight pout.

Ah. Sakusa it was.

Miya ,who was still laughing his heart out, put an arm around Sakusa, “My, my, Omi-kun,” he paused to chuckle, “We’ve found yer dream girl!” Sakusa tried to shrug Miya’s arm off of his shoulder. “Please don’t touch me.”

Bokuto came closer as well and spoke to Sakusa, “Are you still leaving? Germinator-chan can keep you clean.”

“Of course I’m still leaving. I shouldn’t even have come in this germ-infested place” he said and was about to saunter off towards the exit. Before he could even pass you by, you block his path and extend your arms.

“Germ, you say? I got you,” you said while you poised your sanitizers in place, ready to give him some if he extends his hands to you. You find no shame in how flippant you seemed. This is what Halloween parties are all about. You, yourself, are having fun even if you don’t entirely grasp why they’re teasing the guy. He probably has a cold and wants to avoid too many people.

You weren’t expecting it, but Sakusa held out his hands. You thought he was just going to ignore your antics because he seemed annoyed. You heard him mumble something, but because of the music and his face mask, you didn’t hear it.

“Sorry, what?!”

He comes a bit closer, close enough for you to notice how he’s not as serious as he was before. More so, he looked pleased. Since half of his face is covered, all your attention went to his eyes, and at this proximity, you became aware how pretty they actually looked. Or maybe you’re already drunk and he’s just too close.

“Thanks, miss,” he uttered softly.

“BAHAHAHHAHAHAHA!! You’re perfect for each other!” Bokuto’s laugh drew your attention away from Sakusa.

“Before you leave, Omi-san. Can we take pictures with you, Germinator-chan?” Hinata asks with his phone already on his hand.

“Ah yes yes, Shoyo-kun. Clever idea.” The Miya guy said with a widespread grin on his face. Once again, they all gathered around Sakusa. You joined them with silly poses as they took several selfies with you. The three of them were obviously having fun while Sakusa’s expression was the same in all the photos. Even with the face mask, you could tell. He’s pissed. As soon as they put the phone down, he was on the move again.

“Wait, Omi-kun!” Miya stopped him once more. Sakusa looked like a vein was gonna pop on his temple. Maybe you just imagined him being pleasant a while ago.

“We’re letting ya leave, don’t worry.” Miya smirked prior to adding, “after ya take pictures with Germinator-chan.” You see Sakusa’s shoulders slump in defeat. But you didn’t feel bad for him at all. In fact, you also wanted to keep on teasing him.

As they snap pictures, you kept on doing superhero poses with your costume. Sakusa’s impassiveness doesn’t bother you one bit. You kept on flailing around him while they took pictures. When they had their fill, they said their goodbyes as Sakusa walked away without even looking back.

“Byeee. Stay germ-free!” You half-shouted as he already gained some distance away from you and the three men. When he reached the exit, you felt someone tap your shoulder. You turned on your heel and saw Miya offering you a drink. “You, Germinator-chan, are fucking awesome.” The three boys wore big smiles on their faces which you reciprocated. You bowed as acknowledgment to the compliment and took the offered liquor. You gulped a significant amount before excusing yourself “Bye boyysss.” You head back to your coworkers, faltering on every step of the way.

Two days after that Halloween party, life went on. You regret drinking so much that night. You barfed like crazy when you got home and you had a massive hangover the morning after so you had to take the following day off. Since everyone in your office knew why you had to be absent the previous day, they made you do additional work that day.

You’re a Lifestyle writer, but the Sports department needed another person today. They weren’t able to do the interview for some players the week before so you’re needed to do the last set of interviews. You don’t really know anything Sports-related. They just gave you a list of the people you’re going to interview and the questionnaire for them to answer. The most you could do is follow up on their answers. You looked at the names to be interviewed.

Shion Inunaki

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Shoyo Hinata

You don’t know why, but the names were awfully familiar. You shrugged it off. Maybe you just saw some articles about them from the Sports department.

You arrived at the gymnasium and went straight to their manager, stating that you were scheduled there to interview some players for your magazine. You took your seat at the sides and waited. The first interview with Inunaki went smoothly. When you’re done with him, he called the next guy and got back to their practice.

Upon seeing the next interviewee, you stare intently at him for he looked incredibly familiar, you just had to remember where you met him. Black, curly hair that framed his face nicely. Two moles located right above his right eyebrow. Sharp, serious eyes. But something’s off. Something at the back of your head knows that you’ve seen his face, but something’s amiss.

Face mask. He wasn’t wearing his face mask.

Sakusa.

Drunken memories came rushing down to your sober mind. You even heard your frilly voice saying Germinator-chan!!

You looked down and fixed your glasses as an attempt to hide your face. You cleared your throat and deepened your talking voice so that he wouldn’t perceive any resemblance you may have with what you looked like two nights ago.

You started the interview and took down notes more keenly than you should, just so you wouldn’t meet his gaze. From your peripheral, you saw him trying to get a better look at your face.

“Excuse me, have we met somewhere?” he said after answering a question from your list. You smile thriftly and shake your head. “I don’t think so.” He didn’t look convinced, but he didn’t press on.

‘Kami-sama, I swear to take care of myself and not contaminate my precious body with alcohol. Just let me go through this unnoticed. I’m begging you,’ you prayed silently.

Fortunately, the interview ended with Sakusa not figuring out who you were. When the last interviewee sat down, a pair of bright hazel eyes stared at you with glee.

“GERMINATOR-CHAN!” Hinata yelled while pointing at you happily. It echoed in the whole gymnasium and how awfully lucky you were, everyone was on break. You felt everyone’s eyes on you. Not long after, you’re crowded by not only the four boys you met that fateful night, but everyone else in the team.

“Wow. This is the Germinator-chan?” A player you didn’t know asked.

Apparently, Miya shared the pictures to every single one on the team. Inunaki joined their fun and tapped the back of Sakusa. “Real nice, Sakusa-san!” You heard a familiar voice and found Miya beside Sakusa. “Well, well, Omi-kun. Her alter-ego’s real pretty.” The taunts were focused on Sakusa, but you felt like sinking on your seat that moment.

“Um!!” You got all their attention. “Sorry, but can I finish my interview with Hinata-kun first?” You smiled as professionally and as nice as you could. They all uttered light apologies and dispersed back on the court. You resumed with the interview as fast as you could. You thanked Hinata and their manager and semi-sprinted out of the court when you had the chance. No way you’re gonna get hounded by any MSBY member again.

The exit was just a few steps away and finally, you can rest easy. You let out a breath of relief when you reached outside with no problem.

“Germinator-chan.”

You yelp from the sudden voice behind you. You slowly turn around to confirm if it was who you thought it was. And behold, it really was Sakusa Kiyoomi. You twiddled with your fingers while thinking of what you should say. You didn’t want to apologize for your behavior the other night. You liked having fun and going crazy. You saw nothing wrong with that. You didn’t do anything inappropriate. It’s just that you didn’t think you’d see any of those men right when you’re working.

He walked towards you until you were face to face. Without his face mask, you end up staring at his whole profile that was partially hidden that night. He must’ve been really sick to want to cover such an attractive face.

“What brand of sanitizer did you use?” You blink twice from the confusion. “What?” you ask dumbfoundedly. “That night. The sanitizer you gave me felt nice. Did it have 70% isopropyl alcohol?” You couldn’t tell if he was just messing with you cause his face is dead serious. That’s when you figured it out.. The face mask, the early escape from the crowd, attention to disinfectant — he was a clean freak.

“Umm. I-Uh.. I’m not really sure. I didn’t really check,” you said, then laughed nervously.

“Do you want some recommendations?”

“Huh?” You felt like an idiot for not fully grasping what he was talking about. If you weren’t staring so hard, you wouldn’t have noticed it, but something broke his stoic expression when his eyes averted your gaze for a second. He looked a bit unsure.

“I can help you choose a good sanitizer...and stuff.”

The smile that broke in your face was wide and it hurt your cheeks. You’ve been asked out several times, but that. That was unlike any other you’ve ever heard. It was so weird. It was the kind of weird that appeared so charming to you.

You just had to go out with him.

A year after that, you find yourself in his apartment to celebrate Halloween. Originally, you wanted to go to that Halloween party again, but no matter how much you pouted, begged, and pestered him, the answer was a big, fat no.

This is your most-awaited holiday of the year. There’s no way you’re missing out on Halloween activities with him. So days prior to this, you brainstormed on what activities you could do with him.

Haunted House? Dirty. Abandoned buildings? Dirtier. Street Parties? Crowded. Ouija Board? You’re scared something will actually happen. Zombie run? Dirty and crowded.

You almost gave up until you remembered your vast collection of untouched horror movies, documentaries, and series that you didn’t have the time to watch because of work. You instantly texted Sakusa if that was okay with him.

Okay

You’ve never been so glad to read a four-lettered text after receiving a constant n-o, no to all your suggestions. Finally. FINALLY, you came up with something you two could do.

Halloween weekend came and you both decided on Sakusa’s apartment to do the movie marathon. You keep shifting in your seat from excitement. Tonight, you get the opportunity to watch some of your hoarded horror pieces, and much better, you’re watching it with Sakusa.

“Is there anything you’d like to watch in particular?” you ask him with your eyes still glued on the screen, browsing your bought movies. He moves closer to you and slouches so he can better see his options.

If Sakusa will be honest, he’s not really a fan of horror. He doesn’t see the point of scaring oneself from something that is make-believe. So he’s not that enthusiastic about it.

But you were.

If watching freakish movies makes you happy, then okay. Out of all your ideas this year, this is the only one he can tolerate. He knows how dedicated you are in celebrating this event. Last year was already a solid proof of that.

“Don’t you get scared by watching that stuff?” He’s looking at you but your focus is on the screen as you scroll down. “I do. But that’s the point!” You squeal from excitement. He still can’t wrap his head around the whole concept, but he’s willing to indulge you.

“Do you get scared by these?” you peel your eyes away from the TV and shift your attention to him.

He shrugs indifferently. “Not really,” was his answer even though he still hasn’t watched a full length horror film. He just couldn’t imagine how a fictional work could potentially frighten him.

“Okay. Let’s go with something light since the night is still young,” you said, then clicked on some movie that he didn’t catch the title of. You huddled closer to him. You tuck your knees in and hug your legs as the movie starts.

You’re so elated that you don’t notice the tug in the corner of his mouth as he studies your face. He asked you out on a whim because that day, he didn’t really have the time to think twice. He wasn’t sure if he’d see you again. If he’d been honest, he thought you were all over the place when he first saw you. He didn’t usually find that appealing, but he couldn’t deny that you looked so cute as Germinator-chan, especially with your eyes twinkling in glee as you offered him that sanitizer.

Even though asking you out wasn’t a well-thought of idea, he made the right decision. He didn’t need to match up to your outgoing personality. You never made him feel that he wasn’t enough or that he needed to be more than himself. He never felt pressured to make you happy because you already are with whatever he gives. You’re you and he’s him, yet your relationship is more than satisfactory for both of you.

You might have noticed him gaping at you since you suddenly turned to him and raised your eyebrow. “What’re you staring for?” Your lips formed the cute smile he’s always adored.

“Nothing,” he replied more quickly than he should. He takes in your smile for one good second before shifting his gaze to the screen. The movie starts with people going to the woods for their idea of fun.

‘Ew’ he thought to himself.

As the film progresses, it gets even worse. There are body parts getting dismembered. It’s so bad when someone’s arm was severed, blood splattered all over the place. He unconsciously grips your thigh to ground himself. You don’t notice this since you shrieked happily at the scene. You were even clapping your hands.

“Yeeess! Cut those arms, dude.”

He couldn’t believe you found this fun. He couldn’t bear to look at the mutilated body parts, even if it was just on screen. He just looked away until he thought it was safe for his eyes again. That’s what he’ll do every time there’s a bloody clip.

After a while, you finally sense that his hand was clutching your thigh because of the gradual increase of force he unknowingly put behind it.

“Kiyoomi?” You look at your boyfriend whose face is now drained of color. “Oh no. What’s wrong?!” Your full attention is now on him despite the film still rolling.

Your face is a pile of concern. A while ago, he was painfully uncomfortable in your choice of movie, but seeing your once cheery facade get all worried cause he couldn’t take the blood made him feel bad. You already adjusted your Halloween plans for him. He can at least try harder to get through this movie.

He gently shakes his head. “I’m okay. Don’t mind me. Let’s keep watching.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to do it if you’re not okay with it.” It was very like you to look out for him and adjust to him, even at your own expense. You’re easygoing, loud, fun, and everything he’s not - that included messy and clumsy. Despite that, you accepted his needs and boundaries without any qualms.

He removes his grip from your thigh and wraps his arm around you.

“I’m really fine, sweetheart.”

Your face lights up at his endearment, completely melting away the worry you had a while ago.

Now, he just needs to pin it on his mind that the thing isn’t real and he can survive the night.

However, it proved to be more difficult than he imagined when the scenes keep getting messier, bloodier, and dirtier. He keeps on focusing on your entertained face to distract himself from the screams and the sound of blood splashing and gushing.

From the short moments that he was able to glance at the screen, he can tell that the movie is reaching its climax already. He decided that he’s going to keep his eyes on the screen starting from now, just to fulfill your wish of him actually watching with you.

A few minutes into it and he was starting to feel sick. He gets nauseous when someone's head is crushed by a rock. Unable to continue, he pulls you closer and leans his forehead on your shoulder with his eyes closed.

You immediately notice him wavering and quickly turn off the television. You cup his cheeks and brush away the curls blocking his face. He opens his eyes and looks at you weakly.

“Sorry, we were almost done… but the blood was too much,” he confessed defeatedly.

“No, no, no. I should’ve realized that it would make you uneasy.” You felt guilty for not figuring it out sooner. You’ve been with him for a year now. You should’ve put two and two together.

“Let’s do something else. What do you wanna do?”

“We can watch another scary film. Just less blood.” He suggested a compromise. He won’t let you do all the adjusting this time. He’s getting fed up with himself being coddled by you all the time.

“Swear to me that you’ll let me know if it gets too much.” Your tone was serious.

“I swear Germinator-chan,” he says monotonously but you catch the humor behind it. This is Sakusa afterall. Because you’re used to his non-expressive self, you’ve gotten used to the intricate details of how he conveys his emotion.

You couldn’t help but smile while rolling your eyes back to the screen. You choose a more recent movie that’s a sequel to a very famous horror franchise you’ve been following. It was perfect because it was just plain creepy and scary without the gore.

You make yourselves comfortable again. Around twenty minutes into the film, there's no one who’s body parts are missing from their bodies. You’ve been keeping an eye on him. Thankfully, it seems like he’s calmed down now that he’s leaning on the couch with the color back on his face. He looks focused on the movie that was playing. With that, you are able to relax and do the same.

The calm was short-lived though. This movie is quite distinct from the last one. The previous film was chaotic and fun (for you). Now, the room is drowning in ominous music as you wait for the next jumpscare to happen. But it doesn’t. It leaves you at the edge of your seat when you tortuously wait for it to come. The eerie background music stops without any sign of the demonic ghost showing up. You finally let out the breath you were holding in your chest.

That is until you see something in the corner of the screen. It was hazy and it looks like it’s just part of the background. You fixate your eyes on the imagery while you feel a familiar dread rising in your throat. You want to make sure that it was nothing. You squeeze Sakusa’s knee while leaning a bit towards the screen to get a better look.

When you find that you’re close enough, the screen completely turns black, but only for a millisecond. It pops back up to reveal the same background you were looking at earlier. Only now, the thing you were closely looking at was not there anymore. You don’t know what to expect as there’s only silence.

In a blink of an eye, the object of your focus was revealed. A woman’s face occupied the whole screen. She had blood-shot eyes wide as saucers accompanied by an inhuman grin that spread too wide, making her face look unholy.

“SHIIIIITTTTTTTT!!!”

Your reflexes kick in. You use the hand you have on Sakusa’s knee to propel yourself and launch yourself to him. Both your hands find their way on his chest, clutching tight the fabric over it. You bury half your face on his chest and close your eyes.

“Is she gone?” Before he even answers, you open one eye cautiously and peek at the screen to see if it was safe to look again. You see that the scene is cut to a crowd with mundane music. You exhale heavily. You loosen your grip on his shirt and look up to him with a sheepish smile.

“I thought you’re used to this.” He remarks inquisitively while looking confused as to why you were so frightened when you were the one who suggested the horror marathon.

“Do you watch this stuff when you’re alone?” He asked further.

“Of course not. I live alone. I might not get any sleep if I watch some by myself.” You giggle. “And it’s more fun to watch with others.” You let go of your grip on him and go back to how you were previously sitting.

The movie went on with several more screams from you. You begin to feel Sakusa tensing up. You notice how intense he’s leaning on the couch. It’s like he doesn’t want any space behind him from the way he pushed his back to the cushioned backrest and seized the armrest with his right limb. His other hand was holding yours rigidly. Like him, you also start to be agitated as the appearances of haunted apparitions become clearer and more frequent.

It came to point that you were kneeling on the couch and had your arms around him. You have no control on how tight you were holding on to him. You’re pretty sure you were squishing his cheeks sometimes, but you don’t hear anything from him. He seems to be immersed in the story as well because you can feel him flinch and jerk at jumpscares. At the turning point of the movie, it was basically a screamfest held by you.

Seems like you blew his ear off since he tugged you to sit back down. Still, he doesn’t say anything and encloses an arm around you instead. You respond accordingly and use his embrace as your cover.

When the movie ends, you breathe a sigh of relief, which is followed by a laugh and an applause.

“That was so good!” Your eyes are beaming brightly from satisfaction. “Right?” You turn to him to see his reaction.

He has a faint smile on his face, then nods twice. “I didn’t expect you’d be that jumpy,” he said. You scratch your head while laughing embarrassedly. When you settled down, you just found yourselves staring at each other. The thick restlessness from the scary film was gone, replaced by something intimately familiar to both of you.

He makes the first move. He gently cups your cheek and lets it linger momentarily while his eyes shimmer with tenderness as they remain on yours. Some people, namely your coworkers, found it weird that someone like you is dating Sakusa. According to them, you’re a firecracker while he was a defective explosive that only lights up when playing volleyball.

But they’re wrong.

They just don’t know that this Sakusa in front of you exists. He has his own ways of letting you know how much he cares. They were quiet gestures that spoke loudly and exclusively for you. And yes, you are a chaotic bundle of energy, so there were many days that even you, yourself overwhelm yourself. But he gives you peace that nothing or no one else has provided you.

So when he leans closer to capture your lips, you immediately melt to him.

What started out as an affectionate kiss begins to heat up when he grabs your waist and pulls you closer. Then, he grazes his tongue on your lower lip before biting it gently. To hell with your coworkers. He’s nowhere near a defective explosive when he makes you burn up like this.

You want to feel him more, so you take the lead and straddle him. You grind your hips against his crotch and cover his mouth with yours. You’re getting eager to touch his bare skin so you pull up his shirt which reveals his toned chest and abs that made you drool. Best perk of dating a pro athlete. You look down a bit to relish the sight of him topless.

“Um. Can you tie your hair?”

“I washed my hair right before we watched. It’s clean.” You don’t look back at him and continue trailing your palm down on his abs.

“It’s not that.”

“Then what is it?” You still keep your eyes on his torso while biting your lips.

“You’re like the demon lady with your hair down like that when you look down.”

You snap your head back up and find him clearly avoiding looking at you. You try to imagine what he’s thinking - the demon lady on his lap and is about to do the nasty with him. You throw your head back and roar from laughter.

“You have quite the imagination, you know that?” you tell him with your eyes still twinkling from amusement.

“You looked like her for a minute,” he insisted. You click your tongue while shaking your head. “Too bad, Omi. I don’t have my hairtie with me.” You get off from his lap and sit beside him. “Let’s watch a documentary instead?” He only replies with a nod.

“Sorry.I tried, but I can’t unsee it.”

“It’s fine.” You giggle and kiss him on the cheek. “I don’t want you having nightmares of me as the demon lady.”

You grab the remote and put on a ghost-sighting documentary while he puts on his shirt back. It fell flat compared to the other two that previously went on, but you did not change it. You gave it a chance. Maybe there’s something interesting about it.

….

Sakusa woke up with the TV already displaying its screen saver. Before he passed out, he recalls you were starting to get drowsy with your eyes hazy while leaning on his shoulder. He doesn’t remember when, but he must’ve fallen asleep.

Not realizing that there was no weight resting on him, he looked beside him.

You weren’t there.

That was odd. If you moved to the bedroom, you would have woken him up. He blinks a few times to clear his vision before scanning the corners of this room from his seat. His only source of light was the one emanating from the screen, but that should be enough to get even just an outline of your figure.

But there was no sign of you, just the darkness engulfing the inanimate objects in the room.

“Y/n?” He called out, but there was no response.

He grabs the remote and turns off the TV. On the slight chance that you are already in his bed, he walks to his bedroom.

The cool metal of the doorknob wakes his senses. He’s suddenly more wary of everything around him. Because he wanted to reduce the accumulation of dust in his place, he did not place any unnecessary object that can cause dirt. That made his place look spacious and wide. It was only now that he became aware of the vast empty spaces on his back.

Yet despite the seeming emptiness, it feels like something is occupying the place, lurking in the vacant arrays of his home.

A sudden breeze grazes his nape.

‘It’s nothing. It’s usually cold this time of the year.’ He told himself even though he could feel the chill creeping up on his spine.

He hurriedly turns the doorknob and opens the door, only to reveal an empty bed and an empty room. You aren’t there. He’s about to shut the door when the curtains suddenly fly softly at its hems. Yeah. It’s definitely windier than usual.

He closes the door and moves towards the bathroom. The lights are off in it, but you sometimes don’t turn it on when you get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. You don’t like sudden bright lights. Although when you do that, you usually leave the door open.

The bathroom door is shut. His hand was ready to knock when he saw a shadow from his peripheral. He wanted to ignore it, but his trained eye caught the figure. He harshly spun to see what it was.

Nothing.

It was nothing. The deafening silence augmented the dread that was starting to consume his being. He can feel the tips of his fingers get colder, his skin prickling from goosebumps, his throat getting dryer.

“You’re just imagining things,” he uttered to himself to quell his nervousness. He enjoyed the movie earlier, but he didn’t think it would get in his head.

He turns back around to the door and knocks three times. No answer. He knocks again, louder this time. Where the hell are you? It wasn’t like you to leave without saying anything.

He heads for the kitchen to get some water, hoping that it can erase the uneasiness on his mind and body. Then he’ll call your phone as a last resort.

When he makes his turn at the corner of the living room leading to the kitchen, his breath gets suspended in the air at the sight.

A woman who’s looking down stood in front of him. He’s never seen something so sinister. Her black pupils occupy the whole of her eyes. Her hair is down and framed her face in a perfect V shape.

“FUUUUUCCCCKKKKKKK!” His thick scream broke the stillness of his apartment while stumbling a few steps back. It was followed by the woman’s screechy wail as she looked up to him.

“AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Her hair falls a few inches away from her cheeks, giving him a clearer view of her face. It was not a haunted apparition.

It was you!

Now that he looks closely, your eyes were actually normal. It’s just that it was so dark and your eyelids were half closed so it seemed like your eyes were a complete block of black.

When the two of you stopped exchanging screams, it was you who recovered first. He was still frozen in place with terrified eyes. “Oh Kiyoomi.” You put your arms around him and dipped your head on the crook of his neck. Your relieved heaving quickly bubbled into tittering as you realized how stupid you two must’ve seemed.

You put a gentle hand on his face and looked at him. He’s still a bit shaken, but he meets your gaze. “I called for you. Why didn’t you answer?”

“I got a voice call from one of my editors so I was listening intently.”

“Why here?”

“I was getting water when I opened the message.”

“Were you in the living room just now?”

You frown at him. “No…. well actually, maybe? I was spaced out while walking when I realized I didn’t really get the water I came for. So I immediately went back to the kitchen.”

The breath he exhales is deep, but you feel his shoulders loosen up from it. “You didn’t even see that TV was already off and I wasn’t there anymore?” His tone was a bit irritated.

“I was preoccupied with what my editor said.” You pout.

His demeanor softens up. He takes your hand off from his cheek and holds it tenderly. “Let’s just get to bed already.”

When you two lie down, you’re surprised that he’s spooning you. He never does. He doesn’t like your hair touching his face, even though you tell him that you’ve thoroughly cleaned it. Usually, you are the big spoon, which was weird because he’s way too huge for you, or you position yourself a bit lower so that your cheeks are on his chest and you aren’t obstructing his face.

“Next year, let’s go to that Halloween party instead. I’ll dress up in a PPE so no one touches me.“ He says in your ear while his arm snakes around your waist.

“Hmm. I dunno. I quite like this to be honest.” You hold the arm he has around you and snuggled closer. Yep. You’d rather have this.

Taglist: @shinhiromi @elianetsantana @moonlightaangel @vicassa @shrimpypenis @sunshine-hina @isentsworld @kozupresh @humanitysbiggestsimp @omibaby @atsumubabe @sachirou-senpai

#bbthots #spoofythots #sakusa x reader #sakusa fluff #sakusa scenarios #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x you #imagination

167 notes · View notes

amelialincoln · 3 years

Note

Are u gonna write after tonight’s episode like u usually do? hope you focus on when link left but also after the hug thanks xx

Fragile

“Because I’m not an alcoholic, I’m not in recovery…” Link continued yelling but all Amelia could focus on was how much she wanted to slap him on his very perfectly symmetrical face. As if asking him if he was drunk at 9am was such a crazy idea when he started drinking at 12pm yesterday. It wasn’t like she was shaming him or telling him how uncomfortable it really made her, she was just worried about him, more than herself. Of course she’d noticed his little guitar drinking sessions. Whiskey had been lingering on his breath for the past week every time he crawled into bed. The slamming of the front door brought her back to reality. She went to put the Whiskey back on the shelf and realized it was gone.

“Auntie ‘mels, where’s uncle Link?” Amelia turned to find Ellis standing in the doorway to the backyard and she tried to hold back some of the tears that were forming in her eyes out of frustration. “He’s gone,” She replied, realizing she hadn’t retained where he said he was going. “But he’ll be back soon.” She tried to hide the uncertainty in her eyes. “You wanna come garden?”

“Yes!” Ellis squealed.

“Alright then,” Amelia laughed lightly for her nieces sake. “Not for too long though because Scout is going to wake up from his nap soon. You go pick the bulbs and I’ll be there in a second.”

“Maybe daffodils? Or tulips?”

“Surprise me.” Amelia gushed, brushing a strand of hair out of the excited girl’s face and smiling as she took off into the backyard. She went back to the dishes she was putting into the dishwasher before her and Link’s quarrel, knocking one of them off the counter as she abruptly turned and it clattered to the ground, shattering into a million pieces. “Damn it,” she cursed, momentarily wanting to throw another one at the wall.

“Amelia.” Maggie had entered the kitchen upon hearing the noise. “You okay?” She could see that her sister was on the verge of tears.

“I’m fine,” she replied coldly, pushing past Maggie as she tried to wrap her arms around her and stormed out into the backyard. “Don’t let the kids in the kitchen, I’ll clean it up when I’m done in the garden,” she called over her shoulder. Maggie sighed, picking up the ceramic shards, of what used to be her sister’s favourite plate, before sweeping up the rest of the mess. She wondered momentarily where Link had gone and wondered briefly if he had anything to do with Amelia's abruptness. Sometimes it shocked her how little she knew the man who was raising a baby, and taking care of all of Meredith's children, with Amelia. She had no suspicion of Link being abusive, and Amelia had never seemed happier...or exhausted, but if anyone could be taken advantage of, despite being such a strong minded person, it was her. Maggie hadn’t heard the extent of the awful things that Owen had said, but if anyone needed more confirmation that she was worthy of love, it was Amelia. As Maggie gazed out into the backyard to find Ellie sitting on her auntie's lap and giggling uncontrollably, she could practically feel her blood boiling.

[][][]

Amelia spent the rest of the day doing what she did every day, cleaning, feeding and worrying. This time not only about Meredith, but about her boyfriend who drove off with a 2 6 practically full of hard alcohol without a word about where he was going.

“Bailey, leave your sister alone,” Amelia called from her spot on the lawn chair. Scout was nestled into her chest sleeping and she glanced at him worriedly to make sure he was still asleep. “Bailey, we do not pull hair!” Zola had been having a hard enough day with the heavy conversation they’d had earlier that afternoon, she didn’t need Bailey yanking on her pigtails in an attempt to distract her from studying.

“But I’m bored,” Bailey whined, drawing out the end of his sentence until Amelia wanted to cover her ears.

“Why don’t you go see what Ellis is doing?” Amelia offered, lowering her voice as Scout started to stir.

“Ellis is boring,” Bailey complained. If Amelia heard that word one more time she thought she might explode.

“We’re all bored, Bailey,” she sighed, trying to think of something her nephew could do. “Have you studied for your spelling test tomorrow?”

“Yeah.”

“So you’ll be getting ten out of ten like Zola?” She asked.

“No, ten out of ten is impossible for everyone other than Zola,” Bailey groaned.

“Okay, here’s my idea. If you can get eight out of ten, you can have an extra half hour of screen time tomorrow.”

“Really?” Bailey’s eyes lit up like a CT scan. “Wait, eight out of ten is still way too hard.” Amelia shrugged.

“Better get studying then.”

“Fine,” Bailey grumbled. “I’ll go study.” Amelia gave him a thumbs up and tried not roll her eyes as he trudged into the house. She glanced down at Scout who was pawning for her nipple and laughed lightly before moving her tank top to the side, wishing Link could be here to laugh at their adorable boy with her.

“Hey what’s up?” She yawned, sliding open her vibrating phone to reveal Maggie’s maskless face. “You on a break?”

“Yeah, managed to squeeze in lunch,” Maggie sighed, taking a bite of her sandwich. “It’s like the great depression over here.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah, Winston and I are working on a case. It’s weird but we’re working well together.”

“That’s good,” Amelia grinned, feeling better about him after their breakfast together this morning. “He fits into Grey Sloan?”

“Yeah, looks great in the navy blue,” Maggie chuckled, her eyes darting to the door and momentarily lifting her mask to her face before setting it back down. “Have to find closets to eat in at this point,” she joked. “The cafeteria freaks me out.”

“I wouldn’t know,” Amelia shrugged, shifting Scout to the other side uncomfortably.

“Is Link back?” Maggie asked, watching her sister’s face darken.

“No,” she replied simply. “He’ll probably be soon though.”

“Are you guys okay?” Maggie blurted out. “Like are you okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine,” Amelia replied defensively, stunned by the seriousness in Maggie’s voice.

“He’s been drinking a lot, Amelia, we all noticed it. That’s not fair to you and the plate--”

“Whoa,” Amelia interrupted her quickly. “Maggie, I’m in recovery but I’m good. I have a lot to be sober for right now so I’m...good.”

“Well, I’m happy you're so good,” Maggie replied, unconvincingly. “It doesn’t really seem respectful though. Just because you’ve been in recovery for awhile doesn’t mean anything. You can relapse after being sober for years. I’ve seen it with Richard, it’s a never ending cycle.”

“Yeah, exactly.” Amelia bit her lip, surprised by how easily Maggie seemed to understand.

“Like it’s not that I feel uncomfortable having a glass of wine around you. You’ve been to parties where everyone’s been wasted, it's just...I don’t feel comfortable leaving you with someone that’s using alcohol in the same way that you once did.”

“To turn off,” The worried sister confirmed.

“He’s getting drunk by himself in the garage, Amelia.”

“I know.” She hugged Scout tightly into her chest for support and the baby gurgled with happiness at the sudden affection from his mother.

“You guys made an amazing kid.”

“I know,” her response is teary as she glances down at the big blue eyes staring back up at her. “That’s the issue. Everything is so perfect when it comes to him, until it isn’t.”

“Meaning?” The anger in Maggie’s voice caused her to flinch.

“He’s not hitting me, Maggie,” she said softly in case the kids were eavesdropping. Her sister’s demeanour seemed to relax. “Did you honestly think that?”

“No, of course not. We all love Link. He’s perfect. I just feel like I barely know him. Like deeply, you know? He’s not an open book like you.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Sometimes I feel that way too. I have no idea where he is right now, Maggie. I’m worried,” her voice cracked almost unnoticeably.

“He’s a grown adult, Amelia,” Maggie answered with resentment. “He can at least take care of himself if he’s going to leave you alone with four kids for however long.” She glanced up at the door. “Look, I’ve got to go but I can come over tonight and we can talk.”

“It’s fine. Thanks for calling but just spend the night with Winston. You’ve been over enough.”

“Okay, but just text me if you need anything.” Her voice was muffled as she secured her mask and ended the FaceTime.

[][][]

Amelia glanced at her phone for what seemed like the hundredth time that day as she tucked the last Shepherd kid into bed.

“Where's Uncle Link?” Eliis complained, disappointed by only receiving three stories from an exhausted Amelia.

“He’ll be back soon, bug,” Amelia promised. “You have an early zoom class tomorrow so we can only read three tonight, okay?”

“Uncle Link would read me five anyways,” she whined, tears brimming in her blue eyes.

“Come on, Ellie,” Amelia wanted to cry with her. “We had a big day.”

“I don’t want you, I want my mom. Why did you make my mom go away?” The stubborn girl complained, rubbing her puffy eyes with her fists.

“I didn’t, sweetheart. She’ll be back soon too,” she was too tired not to tell her otherwise tonight.

“Really?” Ellis asked with a small smile.

“Yep,” Amelia nodded, regretting it instantly. “Now go to bed and time will go by faster.”

“Okay,” her niece finally caved, snuggling into her polka dotted duvet. “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight,” Amelia sighed, turning off the lamp as she exited the room and breathing a sigh of relief, momentarily lingering with her back against the door.

“Hey, Link’s voice caused her to jump. “Sorry.” He handed her a steaming cup of green tea that she drank each night. What he didn’t know was that she’d been needing some sort of beverage nightly to distract her from wanting anything else.

“Thanks.” She wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic mug and tried to step away from the intoxicating smell of whiskey that he was exuding.

“Sorry it’s bad,” he apologized, running a tired hand through his hair. His eyes were rimmed with red and he looked as if he’d just staggered home from who knows where.

“Were you at a bar or...”

“I went to Deluca’s thing,” he answered messily. “With Jo, we went and it was nice. Did you--”

“Yeah, I watched most of it, you were day drinking with Jo?” It’s not that she didn’t trust them, she knew how much Jo meant to Link and she never wanted to come between that, but did she still feel the tiniest bit jealous? Absolutely.

“In her loft. They were tested like yesterday.”

“They?”

“Jackson was there too.”

“Ah,” she took a sip of the tea and closed her eyes momentarily.

“You look tired,” he observed and she almost laughed at him.

“Um, yeah. They’re all a lot for one person,” she replied, gesturing to the four shut doors in the hallway.

“Maggie and Winston left?” He scratched the back of his head with confusion.

“They had work today.”

“Oh...right.” They stood together awkwardly before Amelia turned towards their bedroom.

“You need to shower and brush your teeth. I need a good sleep,” she yawned, not offering an explanation for why him reeking of hard liquor would cause her another sleepless night, since he obviously hadn’t put two and two together. “Wait is that--” She shut their bedroom door and crawled into bed before he could finish.

[][][]

Link finally came to bed about a half hour later, slamming his shin against the bed frame as he stumbled into the dark room.

“Are you okay?” Amelia’s voice rang out in the darkness.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he groaned, lowering himself cautiously onto the mattress and sliding under the covers. “Look, I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” she rolled away from him tiredly, closing her eyes.

“If you don’t want me to keep liquor in the house I won’t,” he spoke clearly into the darkness.

“Link, I don’t need you to hide liquor or drinking from me,” Amelia sighed. “If anything, I feel more uncomfortable when you do it in secret.”

“I thought that would be better for you,” he responded truthfully.

“How would you know? You didn’t ask me.” Silence hung in the air and she debated going back to sleep.

“Amelia it’s hard.”

“It’s hard for everyone, Link. You don’t get to act like you’re the only one keeping secrets or walking on eggshells or losing people right now. People are grieving and dying. That doesn’t make what we’re experiencing any less hard. I’m going crazy. But I’m not diminishing how others are feeling by shoving my problems in their faces and comparing who has it worse. It’s not a competition.”

“Okay, did Jo tell you--”

“Jo didn’t tell me shit. I don’t have time to talk to Jo or make calls about where you are. I don’t have time to be worrying about where you are or if you’re safe while trying to keep an entire household of people together.”

“I should’ve been here today.”

“Yeah,” she tried to remove any hint of emotion in her voice. “I needed you.”

“I brushed my teeth and I used that plastic thing...that makes all the bubbles.”

“You used my loofah?” She tried to hide her amusement.

“Can you just come here?” He pleaded, opening his arms and allowing her burrow herself in his neck. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

“I know,” she sighed. “Just no more lies or we won’t make it.” He nodded, holding her closely as her breathing deepened into his chest.

#amelink #amelia shepherd #atticus lincoln #atticus link

39 notes · View notes

hyenahunt · 3 years

Text

Jun Sazanami - 5* Feature Scout: Traversing the Wilds, Towards the Horizon - 2 [END]

Writer: Umeda Chitose

Season: Autumn

Characters: Jun, Hiyori, Nagisa

Proofreading: royalquintet

Translation: hyenahunt

Jun: Those strong feelings I've always held in my heart... they haven't changed one bit, even throughout all my idol work nowadays.

Hiyori: You're late! I've had to start practicing all on my own, you know! Come now, Jun-kun, I want you to join me and get dancing right away!

Jun: Seriously? You're the one who suddenly called me over without any explanation—you're always doing whatever you want~!

[One hour later...]

Hiyori: Yes, yes ♪ Today we're perfectly in sync as always, aren't we? What fine weather ♪

Alright, Jun-kun, here's a towel and some water, just for you. Go on, accept my kindness!

Jun: They were already in the room, dammit.

But anyway, why'd you suddenly call me over? We didn't have any lessons planned for today, right?

Hiyori: I simply had a lot of free time on my hands—

...or so you expected me to say, didn't you?

Jun-kun, you're keeping a secret from me! You've got something of utter importance that you aren't discussing with me, don't you?

Jun: ....Sorry?

Hiyori: Jun-kun, you're so dense! Didn't I tell you to discuss your personalised outfit with me, once your turn came up?

And why, you ask? Aren't I your partner, Jun-kun? Aren't I your Ohii-san you respect so much?

You could say I'm even your senior in getting an outfit! Surely there's no one in the world more suited to advising you than I am...!

Jun: You say this with your whole chest, but I don't think I mentioned a thing about this to you. Didja hear it from Ibara?

Hiyori: Something like that ♪ Now then, what kind of outfit do you want to wear, Jun-kun? Go on, you can tell your Ohii-san anything... ♪

Jun: I'm seriously stuck on this, so please don't make fun of me for it, alright?

I talked with Mashiro-kun and Kagehira-san just now about it, but...

Coming up with something not in Eden or Eve's image but in my own, or rather an outfit that gives off my energy... I've been having a hard time trying to figure it all out.

Hiyori: …………

Jun: I'm pretty sure you've got a good idea of my past and all, but...

That gloomy past I spent as a nobody at the bottom of the barrel makes me who I am today.

Those strong feelings I've always held in my heart... they haven't changed one bit, even throughout all my idol work nowadays.

And that's why... um... I thought maybe I could express those feelings through my outfit, but then I got tripped up by another problem.

I've got fans who like me and cheer me on, but what if who they're actually fans of is specifically Eden and Eve's Jun Sazanami...

So I've been thinking maybe they'd be happier if I wore colours more suited for my unit than for me—

Hiyori: ...What, you mean that's it? That's what's got you stumped, Jun-kun?

Jun: W-What's wrong with that!? I've been seriously having a crisis over this, y'know!?

Hiyori: What a silly goose you are, Jun-kun... Developing your idol skills isn't all there is to it—you should develop your emotional awareness, as well.

You got all up in your head back when you had your hyena stageplay role too, didn't you?

Jun: Uuugh...

Hiyori: One would never guess it, Jun-kun, but overthinking yourself into a rut seems to be one of your bad habits.

You may have taken on the role of a hyena prince that one time, but right now, Jun-kun, you seem exactly like an armadillo!

Jun: A-an armadillo...?

Hiyori: You curl into a ball with your head in your hands, and your train of thought seizes up! There's no way you can run free in the wild like this!

And if you shut yourself away into your shell, not only will no one else be able to see you, but you'll lose sight of yourself, too.

Round and plump things are charming, yes, but when you're an idol, you must bask in the gazes of the people and show your brilliance.

Jun: Umm... I suck at reading between the lines, so can't you just spell it out for me~?

Hiyori: Fufu, impatient, aren't we? All the same, while I believe you've come along splendidly, the fact that it seems I still have much to teach you does put me at ease... ♪

With that, I'll ask my first question! How's Reimei Academy been [like] recently?

Jun: Why're you asking me questions when you said you'd teach me...? Umm, let's see...

Even Kazehaya-senpai told me that I'm the current hero of Reimei Academy, so the sense of recognition feels a lot more real, I guess...?

Hiyori: ... Jun-kun, you really are rather fond of Tatsumi-kun, aren't you?

But well, I'm more than happy to hear you're being appreciated!

Alrighty then, next question! Out of the jobs you've taken lately, which one left the strongest impression on you?

Jun: That's gotta be the stageplay for me. It was a real valuable experience, and I feel that by toughing it out through the performance I've really broadened my perspective.

Hiyori: Yes, yes, you did a brilliant job in learning from that experience! Well then, what do you keep in mind whenever you work?

Jun: Let's see... My work as Eden, or Eve, or Lilith or even when I go solo are all a lil' different from each other, but...

At heart, it's gotta be getting seen as an inspiration or goal for those who are just like how I used to be—

And maybe I kinda wanna be someone who can help others pave their own paths.

Hiyori: ... Indeed ♪

You wanted to become an idol, Jun-kun... and here you are now, your dream come true.

Keeping up in practice with me, holding out throughout our various jobs and recognising your own growth—you've come along so well that you can succeed in all of this.

Jun-kun, the virtue that's brought you this far is your hyena-esque determination and ambition. I've told you this before, but...

Those strengths of yours are deeply rooted within you—they're what give you merit. As long as you continue to hold them close to your heart, they'll last you your whole life.

Jun: Ohii-san...

Hiyori: Still, no one can say for sure what's in store for you now that you've become an idol. That's something you'll have to think about yourself, as you go about your days.

Jun-kun, the possibilities in front of you are endless... and one such way for you to express all that potential is through your personalised outfit.

You wouldn't want to let hesitation and indecisiveness hold you back, would you? Not when it concerns your own potential and self-expression.

Jun: ...It's gonna take some time to really digest all this complicated stuff you're saying, Ohii-san, but...

So what you're saying is.... if I've got it in me to become any kinda idol, then the only way my outfit would be worth it is if it'd suit that future version of me, no matter how I turn out.

... or something like that? Did I get that right?

Hiyori: If I were to confirm it, then it wouldn't be your answer but rather my own, no?

But if it's an answer that came from your own mind, and it's one that you yourself believe in, then that would be more than enough... ♪

[Several days later...]

[Location: Seisou Hall Common Room]

Jun: (I was so caught up brainstorming my personalised outfit over lunch that I'm cutting it real close for time. ES may be nearby, but I can't afford to stay here any longer...)

Nagisa: ...Jun, wait. You forgot this.

Jun: Oh man— I forgot the most important thing for the meeting. Thank you, Nagi-senpai.

I don't have my name written on the cover or anything, but you still knew it was mine, huh?

Nagisa: ...I figured it was yours once I looked inside it, Jun. Both the writing and the art felt like they'd be yours.

Jun: I feel kinda embarrassed that you saw, actually... Sorry for my cruddy drawings and the scribbly mess inside.

Nagisa: ...Why do you apologise?

...Jun, perhaps you may feel that you're standing in the wilderness, but...

...you can turn those surrounding plains into a land rich in harvest, or even into fields full of flowers. Within you, there's a path that continues towards such a future.

...That's the feeling I got from looking through your notebook. I'm looking forward to seeing how your outfit turns out, Jun.

Jun: ...Hehe. Thank you, Nagi-senpai.

If you can say all that about it, then there's no way it won't turn out all right~

This is the very first step I'm taking in my new journey forward. Mark my words: Jun Sazanami's gonna show the world all the potential he has~!

✦✦✦✦✦

← prev ✦ all ✦

#jun sazanami #enstars #ensemble stars #enstars translation #hyenahunttl #type: idol story #era: !!#nagisa ran #hiyori tomoe

17 notes · View notes

that-bi-bitch-writes · 3 years

Text

P S Y C H (ch.4)

We’re getting to the good parts my beloveds. Enjoyyy

Previous // Next

“UA is known for its ‘freestyle’ education system.” Aizawa began “That applies to us teachers too. Soft ball throwing, the standing long jump, the 50 meter dash, endurance running, grip strength, side-to-side stepping. Upper body training. This country still insists on prohibiting quirks when calculating the averages of those records. It’s not rational.

The class stood in shocked silence. [Name] who had read Aizawa’s mind before he began his rant, started sweating anxiously. He had a massively powerful quirk but still lacked confidence in himself. He could not just decide to show off for the class and unlock the full capabilities of his quirk. He was someone motivated by spite and emotions. And it could’ve been his proximity to the successor of OFA but the only emotion he felt in the moment was anxiety.

[Name] had gone so far off the deep end getting lost in his own thoughts that the sound of Aizawa calling his name made him realize he had zoned out for what felt like a few minutes and hadn’t had enough time to talk himself out of the corner he’d been backed into. “[L.Name]. How far could you throw in middle school?”

“50 meters I think”

“Great. Now try it with your quirk. Do whatever you need to. Just don’t leave the circle. Give it all you’ve got”

‘HA! I could throw 67 meters in middle school. This shitty extra only beat me on the practical exam because he focused on saving the other extras while I took down villains. His achievements don’t matter.’

[Name]’ eyes glowed gold immediately grabbing the attention of a few of his classmates, especially a certain blond and green haired duo. [name] began tossing the ball up in the air and catching it, wondering if he was gonna just levitate the ball from a standing position. It would be an awesome feat to just make it seem like the ball was doing the work. But then he decided he was gonna keep his classmates on their toes. He widened his stance, left foot in front of the right kind of like a baseball player up to bat, took a deep breath and lightly flicked his wrist.

“It’s important for us to know our limits.” Aizawa said as he turned the device he was holding up for the class to see ‘That’s the first rational step to figuring out what kind of heroes you’ll be”

“Wow this is awesome” “800 METERS???” “He flicked his wrist like he was skipping rocks!!??”

[Name] took pleasure in his classmates' shock. He could of course feel insulted at the implication he would be weak and useless. But their awe not only stroked his ego but eased his anxiety of constantly being one step behind everyone else. He had huge shoes to fill, being one of God’s chosen.

“Awesome.. You say? You’re hoping to become heroes after three years??! And you think it’ll be all fun and games?”

A pin dropped.

“Right. The one with the lowest score across all eight events will be judged HOPELESS and will be expelled.”

‘Aizawa uh…’

“Where the fuck is that voice coming from” [Name] whispered to himself as he whipped around

“Your fates are in our hands” the homeroom teacher continued with a manic look on his face “Welcome. This is… The Hero Course at U.A High!”

‘I’m a little scared’ [Name] thought ‘But loving the drama’

“The lowest score will be expelled,” a student said “It’s only the first day! I mean even if it weren’t that’s totally unfair!!”

“Natural disasters… Highway pileups, rampaging villains, calamity is always right around the corner. I’d say Japan is full of unfair things. Heroes are the ones who correct all that unfairness. If you were hoping to spend your evenings hanging out at McDonald’s... I'm Sorry to tell you that for the next three years U.A will run you through the ringer”

“I think he reached his word limit for today”

“That’s plus Ultra. Use your strength to overcome it all. So bring it”

“Nope I was wrong he’s still going.”

[Name] did not feel motivated by Aizawa’s speech. He knew there was no way with the way his class reacted to his softball pitch that he would be in last place, so he wasn’t exactly worried about being expelled, but instead he was trying to think of a way to avoid doing too much exercise. Fear of failure vs a deep hate of exercise round one was about to begin. THe exercise? Running.

When it was his turn [Name] made his eyes glow as he focused his telekinesis in his feet, making them lighter just as he picked his feet up. Sort of like another girl in his class. People can call him a copycat all they want but he considered learning from others’ failures and successes a necessary skill for all heroes in training.

He pretty much did the same thing for all the tests, using his kinetic blasts for more force when necessary like the standing long jump. The slide stepping event was in his opinion lame and unnecessary so he actually got a pretty average score for that one. His grip without using his quirk was 60kg but when using his quirk he crushed the device easily.

When it came time to the throwing event [Name] paid close attention to his classmates. He was the one to beat and so, he felt less like some creep and more like… an opponent scouting out the competition. There were three people he decided were dangerous should they develop their quirks more aggressively. The ash blond who (bakugou he reminded his inner monologue) who scored 705.2 using his explosion quirk, the cute brunette with the gravity quirk and the man of the hour, Izuku Midoriya.

When Midoriya first threw the ball he scored a measly 46 meters and froze in shock. Apparently that’s when he realized who exactly their homeroom teacher was. [Name] might’ve done a little… digging but it still isn’t like he knew who “The Erasure Hero: Eraser Head” was. Said underground hero seemed in [Name]’s terms “smart enough” and immediately made a connection between Midoriya and All Might but failed to grasp just how deep the connection grew. Through a little tough love Aizawa had the OFA successor draw out the limits of his quirk without serious injury, shocking everyone, including All Might and Aizawa himself.

“!!!”

“Oh no please no fighting someone please stop this” [name] sarcastically drawled as Bakugou launched himself at Midoriya.”What the hell? Explain yourself DEKU!”

“Wahh”

‘?’

[Name]’s fun was spoiled as Aizawa quickly restrained Bakugou. “What is this??” “It’s a capture weapon made of carbon fibers and a special alloy wire. Stop using your quirk already.. I’m getting dry eye over here”

“Okay I think I like this teacher” [Name] though aloud

“Shota Aizawa!”

‘A voiceover???’

“He can nullify the quirk of anyone he looks at! But the effect wears off if he blinks”

“What a waste of time” Aizawa continued “Prepare for the next event.”

When the events were over everyone gathered to see their ranking. [Name] tried to subtly wipe his sweat in order to keep up the air of his achievements being effortless. Unfortunately he was also mouth breathing so sweat or no sweat everyone knew he was at least a little winded.

“Moving along. Time for the results. Our total scores simply reflect your performance in each of the events. Explaining the process would be a waste of time, so all you get are the final rankings”

‘He’s totally gonna be my favorite teacher. If anything bad happens to him I will kill everyone and then myself’[Name] thought to himself a little too honestly

“Also I was lying about expelling someone”

“?????”

“That was a rational deception meant to bring out the best in all of you”

“Well of course it was a lie” Ponytail said confidently “Didn’t take much to figure that out”

Aizawa, who didn’t want to admit that it wasn’t a TOTAL lie, just excused himself and gave Midoriya a pass to the nurse to heal his finger. [Name] unconcerned for the green haired boy went to take a look at his ranking to find out he was once again first among the students who took the general admittance exams and third out of the total class

‘It was totally the sidestep thing wasn’t it’ he thought to himself before trailing after Aizawa to ask him an important question. He noticed All Might and Aizawa talking and stayed a couple steps behind knowing that he could stay out of sight, keep an eye on Aizawa and eavesdrop using his telepathy. Once they were finished [Name] appeared behind Aizawa and gave All might a polite greeting, shocking the two pros

“[L.Name] go home”

“Just a moment sir I had a question for you. The telepath said before looking at All Might. The giant hero didn’t get the memo “Privately”

“Ah! Yes. I must be on my way. Good day Aizawa! [L.Name]-kun”

“What is it?”

“I noticed that some teachers had… favorites”

“And you think you’re mine?”

“No but I think you’ll be my favorite so I was hoping to get a little ahead of the curve. I was wondering if you could teach me some hand to hand that I could incorporate into my quirk”

“Incorporate?”

“I’m telekinetic amongst other things and I can’t just rely on throwing random objects at an opponent, so I want to reinforce my blows with kinetic energy, that way they pack a bigger punch”

“...I’ll let you know [L.Name]. Go home”

“Thank you sir”

“Yeah”

#bnha x male reader #mha x male #x male reader #mha x male reader #male reader #male reader insert #P S Y C H #that bi bitch writes #that-bi-bitch-writes

8 notes · View notes

mirthful-sonnet · 3 years

Text

Rise Above the Ashes | Chapter 2

Summary: Jean and Mikasa grow closer while battling with their inner demons. Jean feels alienated in his own country and realizes in a brutal way that the Alliance’s endeavors for peace may be harder than he expected.

Notes: Thanks once again to @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie for beta reading this and putting up with my fandoms cause she must be so confused what this is about lmao

Warning: One short depiction of graphic violence

Ao3 link

“Stop moving.”

Mikasa froze, a startled look on her face as she tried to stay still.

Jean chuckled, turning back to his sketchbook. The afternoon was pleasant, with the bright sun profiled against a blue, cloudless sky. The only sounds were those of the light breeze and the strokes of graphite against paper.

The drawing was taking shape, the outlines of Mikasa’s likeness staring back at him from the page. He turned his eyes back onto Mikasa, and he thought that no matter how hard he tried he could never do justice to her actual beauty. She broke from her pose again and stared back at him.

“Mikasa,” he said, both in amusement and disapproval.

Mikasa ducked her head and muttered an apology, trying to go back to her former pose once again, with her body slightly turned away from him while staring to the side. They had found a secluded spot while everyone else was back at the farm. Jean had been trying to spend more time with her since their encounter at Eren’s grave.

He learned that she had a house near the farm while occasionally working as an informant for Historia and found himself as a constant guest along with Armin. The three of them had established a sort of routine in which whenever they had time they would meet up at her house and have dinner together. Jean would be lying if he said that being a part of this routine didn’t make him feel good.

Their current position in the grassy corner resulted from Mikasa catching him flicking through his old sketchbook. He did not plan on taking anything from his home in Trost when he reunited with his mother. But this sketchbook was a vestige from a time where there was much less violence and heartache in his life, and he took it with him.

There were portraits from most of the people he had met as a Scout. There was even a portrait of Eren, which Mikasa had stopped to stare at with an unfathomable look on her face before Jean broke the tension with a joke about what a lousy model Eren had been. It led to Mikasa asking him why he never drew a portrait of her, to which Jean could not offer any other explanation than that he had simply never worked up the courage to ask her.

Now they were in this quiet spot, enjoying the peaceful afternoon together. He added the finishing touches before sitting more comfortably on the spread blanket and admiring his work.

“It’s done,” Jean said, and Mikasa turned to him. He gave her the finished drawing, awaiting her reaction. She appeared taken aback when seeing her portrait, staring at it for a long while before turning to him.

“It’s amazing, Jean,” she said, and Jean felt a little embarrassed at the frankness in her face, not knowing how to react. “I would only say that she’s too beautiful to be me.”

There was a jesting tone in her voice, but Jean immediately replied. “Then that means I did an accurate job.”

Mikasa widened her eyes slightly before looking down, and Jean mentally berated himself.

He had been careful not to make things strange between them, especially now that his feelings were messier than ever. The last thing he wanted was to make her uncomfortable.

Jean had successfully locked away that part of himself when he realized the place Eren had in her heart. He resolved to be her friend and it had worked. Aside from that, he had certainly not wasted any time in seeking other companions. First during his years as a young Scout who was too curious and hormonal for his own good, and more recently as a glorified refugee in Marley with an uncertain status and plenty of need for pleasured distractions.

He was ashamed when thinking about his time in Marley, as he remembered the phase he had fallen into which he was too numb from the war and had excessively sought out those distractions. Moments of bliss were fleeting, and they would only lead to him relapsing into the same pattern and making him feel worse than before. The entrustment of the peace negotiations between Paradis and Marley into the Alliance’s hands had brought hope and a change that he desperately needed.

Still, why was he feeling so confused around Mikasa now? What he felt now was an echo of his former crush, similar yet so different. Whereas before it had felt like a small ache that he kept hidden, now it felt like a flame slowly spreading and threatening to overwhelm him.

“Earth to Officer Kirchstein,” Mikasa’s voice interrupted him, her hand waving in front of him.

“Oh, sorry, I got lost in my thoughts,” he told her, raising an eyebrow, “and I’m no longer a commanding officer, you know.”

Mikasa only smiled, laying back down on the spread blanket, her red scarf acting as her pillow. Jean was glad to see her smiling and acting with ease around him, since despite her calm demeanor he knew that she was still grieving no matter how much she tried to hide it. Sometimes he would catch her staring off into nowhere or holding her scarf a little tighter than usual. While he remained in this place, he was determined to be there for her as much as he could.

“Do you know how much longer you will stay here?” she asked suddenly.

Jean paused before replying, taken aback by her question. “Our stay has been extended indefinitely; it depends on how things go at our sessions. Though in any case, I imagine we’ll have to leave soon.”

Her face fell, “I see,” she murmured. “What do you plan to do after this?”

“I…” he trailed off, “I don’t know. Wherever the Alliance goes, I will end up going too. But my mom lives here, and I don’t want to leave her alone. Then again, we are not exactly welcomed here. I’ll just see what happens, I guess.”

“What about marriage and children?” She asked, quickly regretting her forwardness. She was about to apologize but he spoke first.

“Oh, that. Well, I’m not too sure about that either. I always dreamed of having my own family, but things are still too strange and uncertain,” he paused, looking away. “I don’t think I can truly settle down anywhere because I don’t belong anywhere.”

Mikasa stared at him, that dazed look that he seemed to constantly wear coming back, as if he were lost in a place where she could not reach. She grabbed his sleeve impulsively. These days she found herself doing that a lot when Jean would appear too lost in his own head.

“It…It’s probably not much, but I want you to know that if you’re in a pinch or need anything, you’re always welcome at my house,” Mikasa told him, not sure where these words were coming from, but knowing they were true. It was the least she could do.

Jean was visibly shocked, his face flushed. “Thank you, Mikasa.” he whispered, avoiding her gaze. After a moment, he turned to her suddenly.

“What about you? Do you have any plans?”

“I don’t think so, I like living here.” She explained, “Kiyomi and her delegation insist that I go to Hizuru but I’m not sure I’ll do that any time soon. I did want a family but…”

He understood. That was impossible now that Eren was gone. The meaning of her words hung over them, and Jean felt a weird kind of sadness overtake him. He knew Mikasa would have been an amazing mother. Despite whatever pain and jealousy remained in his heart, he realized that he would have liked to see his two friends together with their own family. A welcome respite after years of misery and destruction. But Eren had to run ahead of them and set himself ablaze.

“Well, you can consider us your family now,” Jean said, referring to their friends, and wanting to ease her mind.

Mikasa beamed at him, “I guess you are,” she replied, coaxing Jean to lay down beside her on the blanket and he complied. From the new angle, she could make out a scattering of tiny moles on his neck that was not covered by his shirt. She hadn’t noticed them before and found herself strangely transfixed before she heard him speak.

“I’ll tell you what, no matter what happens, we’ll always be there for each other.” he offered, turning his head to her. Mikasa paused, rendered a little speechless at the openness in his hazel gaze. In that moment, she had no choice but to agree with anything he said.

~0~

Jean pressed the timer and waited for Armin’s next move. The blond was scrutinizing the chessboard before moving a knight.

“So this is it, the final countdown until we decide if we can stay or if we should be running for our lives,” Connie commented from his seat near the fireplace in the living room. The residence was bigger than they had remembered.

“The queen has ensured our protection,” Armin said, his gaze still fixed onto the board, waiting for Jean’s move.

“With the same people who want us dead.” Connie spat.

All sectors of the government had finally agreed to a voting session in which they would vote on the proposals from the Alliance and other nations. Soon, they were to show up at council with other delegates from Marley who had also worked with them.

“It’s more complicated than that,” Reiner replied, his hands busying themselves tying knots with an old rope. It was a habit he had picked up during his treatment at the mental facility and he kept doing it long after he was discharged. He found the distractions helpful when his thoughts would become too much. “There are people who are strictly loyal to Historia, and she knows who they are and how to pick them.”

There was truth to what Reiner was saying. They had misjudged just how divided the island would be when they arrived. Currently, there were all kinds of factions and insurrectionists on the rise, from imperialists who wanted Paradis to establish itself as a global power and expand its territories, to reformers who were advocating an alliance with the other nations.

“Whatever supporters we have seems meaningless as long as the Yeagerist faction is still in power,” Annie added, watching the game between the two friends.

Armin clicked the timer, unfazed, “We have had to deal with worse things; the liberation of Paradis started with a revolution from the Survey Corps, a group that was a mere minority and ridiculed by most. What we want to achieve isn’t impossible,” he paused, hearing a click from Jean. “This time we have the support of other influential nations and the protection of the queen, who is in turn protected by staunch monarchists.”

Jean listened quietly, a strange unease surging up within him. It seemed surreal that they had finally reached this point in their enterprise for peace between Paradis and Marley. They had worked tirelessly to present their motions to the government and recount their testimonies of the war which were carefully modified to protect Mikasa. The Ackerman had insisted on coming clean and bearing the blame for Eren’s death, but that suggestion was quickly shut down by Armin.

The rumbling had not only practically wiped out other regions that now had no choice but start all over again, but it had also left a good portion of Paradis destroyed and still vulnerable, a point that the Alliance had used to their advantage in lobbying for a new coalition of trade between the nations.

Their main objective was to establish a peace treaty. It was the most talked-about subject all over the island, and it had brought feelings of hope but also plenty of hostility. While Jean had busied himself as much as he could in his new duties as ambassador, the reality was becoming clearer to him: that he truly belonged nowhere.

In Marley, things weren’t any easier for someone like him. While there were major changes happening in the Marleyan government and the internment zones were being eliminated, many areas were still heavily segregated and Eldians were still looked down upon.

Jean found it easy to interact with his peers in Marley sometimes. He had his share of friends, and there was the usual neighbor who would greet him, the lady who would bring him warm meals, or the lovers who didn’t seem to care he was Eldian. But other times the animosity was obvious. Now he was experiencing the same feeling of ostracization, but it was worse because this was his home.

“Armin is right. The circumstances are too different now and we have a considerable advantage. For now, we must be patient and wait for the next hearing,” Pieck remarked from her place laying down on the sofa. Naps were becoming more common to her.

“I don’t have a good feeling about this,” Connie said, then gave a tired sigh, “it seems like the violence never ends.”

“That is a reality we have to accept,” Armin replied, clicking the timer once again. “I heard Commander Erwin say that as long as humanity lives, they will always find a way to destroy each other. That is an indisputable fact, no matter how much it irks us to hear it. The cycle will always continue in one way or another.”

“And what do we do meanwhile?” Jean asked, breaking his silence.

Armin stared at him, before moving a pawn, and finally replied. “We keep moving forward.”

~o~

Mikasa stared at her friends bantering back and forth on her dinner table. Tomorrow would be the voting session and she had invited the group to have dinner in her house before the important day.

She felt an odd peace while watching everyone talking and enjoying the food. Back in her days as a soldier, such scenes were rare, and when they weren't, there would always be the knowledge that they may not live for long.

While things were certainly not perfect at the moment, this was a welcome change. It seemed so long ago since she got to have moments like this. It was why she had appreciated having Armin and Jean visit her whenever they could. Their visits took her mind off the troubling thoughts that plagued her at night. They slithered onto her consciousness when she was alone and only she would bear witness. The burden of guilt she still felt over Eren’s death had been like a shadow trailing on her feet, a bitter seed that she couldn’t cut out.

There were days where she felt a semblance of peace, where the prospect of a new dawn seemed like a possibility. She remembered the strange bird she saw on Eren’s death anniversary and the feeling of grief and hope that had overwhelmed her as it flew away. Free and glorious. A promise of new things to come that she didn’t dare believe in. But other days, the shadows of her dreams would morph and speak in a familiar voice.

Traitor.

The wounds were clear cut, its shapes still engraved in every crevice of her heart. The bloodstains of the boy who she had loved unconditionally still ran endlessly through her very being. She wondered if she was being too selfish in daring to have peaceful moments like this.

A movement by her side caught her attention. Armin was currently sitting beside her, his presence serving as an anchor even while he was engaged in lively conversation with Annie.

She was glad he had found someone, even if it took her a while to get used to the idea of them being together.

He had changed so much, from that timid boy who wanted to see the ocean to a determined leader with the same quiet strength. Now he was leading an enterprise that had the world’s eyes on him.

She didn’t know how he could stand it, or how he even looked at her with anything but repulsion. He was carrying an incredible burden for her sake after all, and she could do nothing but watch helplessly from the sidelines, knowing he would never forgive her if she spoke the truth.

Useless.

Her thoughts froze when she noticed that he had turned to her.

His bright blue eyes were narrowed for a moment before he gave her a small smile, as if he knew what she was thinking, and squeezed her hand under the table.

Mikasa could only smile back at him, a quiet understanding between them.

Currently, Reiner and Connie were engaged on a heated, drunken debate about whether cereal should be considered soup or not, having Pieck laughing uncontrollably while Annie looked like she would rather be somewhere else. For all that was troubling her, she liked seeing everyone happy.

One person was visibly quiet, and Mikasa turned her eyes to Jean. The former commanding officer was smiling and watching his friend’s antics. There was a distance in his gaze, one that she noticed too often when he was with her. She didn’t know what to make of it, but despite the time they constantly spent together she noticed that he had a certain guardedness, a wall he had carefully built up and she could not trespass.

She had appreciated him being here more than he could understand. In days when her mind was her own worst enemy, his presence had come as a haven of such comfort that she wondered if she even deserved it. Whether he was talking about how his day went, grumbling about having to argue with ‘constipated geezers’ as he had called them, or just remaining by her side quietly, his company had quickly become one of the highlights of her days. She only wished she could know what was going on in that mind of his.

Jean suddenly stood up from the table and excused himself. She thought he was probably going to the restroom. But after a while, he still did not come back. Mikasa eventually excused herself as well, with Armin reassuring her that they did not mind.

Her instinct told her to go to the backyard, which consisted of a small lawn with an apple tree and a wooden fence separating it from an extensive meadow. She stepped out into the yard, tightening her scarf in the cool breeze as she looked for Jean.

“So, you found me.” She heard him say, and finally spotted Jean leaning over the yard’s wooden fence, face half-hidden by shadows.

Mikasa quietly walked over to where he was. She noticed he had a cigarette in his hand and fought the urge to slap it away. At one point in their reunions, she had noticed him sneaking away to smoke but didn’t say anything, only earning shrugs from Armin when she turned her questioning eyes to him.

“Was Reiner and Connie’s debate that uninteresting?” He asked.

Mikasa grimaced, “remind me to never let them drink again.”

Jean snorted, “prepare yourself, because they’ll be at it for a while.” he said, taking a drag.

“I never took you for a smoker,” Mikasa prodded, narrowing her eyes at him. He looked a little embarrassed, looking away as he exhaled, whiffs of smoke swelling and disappearing in the darkness.

“Sorry, it’s a bad habit I picked up in Marley,” he explained, scratching the back of his neck, “I don’t do it a lot, but when I do it sort of helps.”

Mikasa nodded, figuring that he was nervous about the next day and deciding to not press him further about his new habit.

“Are you alright? I’m sorry if I’m bothering you too much, you probably wanted to be alone-”

“You could never bother me, Mikasa,” Jean interrupted her, then taking a deep breath, “I just- I guess I just realized that this is it. What we have been working for all this time has finally had a result. Isn’t that crazy?”

She nodded and beamed at him, “I know you will do great things.”

“I never thought it would come to this, it just hit me that I have no idea what will come next. I still don’t feel like I truly belong anywhere. Plus, I’m thinking that we probably won’t achieve anything tomorrow and this damn war will just keep on going. My mind’s been playing a lot of shitty tricks on me,” he explained, taking another drag before sighing and looking at her. “I’m sorry, you didn’t come here to listen to my problems.”

She immediately shook her head in protest, “I told you that I would be here for you, and I meant it.”

He looked at her fixedly, “what about you? You do know that you can tell me anything, yet I can’t help but sense that you’re not always honest with me. With any of us, really.”

As soon as he finished, he immediately regretted his words, suspecting that the alcohol had probably made him bolder than usual. He almost wanted to laugh at his hypocrisy, since he knew that he had also not been completely honest with Mikasa either.

“I’m sorry-”

“No, Jean,” Mikasa interrupted, looking elsewhere. “You’re right, I’ve been trying to pretend that things are fine now. And they are in a way, but other days it-it’s too much.”

Jean nodded in understanding, “I get it, you know; I’m not saying I’m entitled to hear everything that you’re thinking, but I also want you to know that you don’t have to hide things from me either. I know that you’re still mourning him, and there’s nothing wrong with that.”

It happened suddenly, but his words caused her heart to constrict and unexpected tears to gather in her eyes. “I’m glad to hear you say that,” she whispered, her voice wavering.

Jean dropped the cigarette and crushed it with his shoe, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I really miss that idiot; I even dream of him sometimes,” he admitted. “I like to think it’s him talking to me, you know?”

Mikasa hummed in response, turning away so he wouldn’t see her tears. “I dream of him too, not a day goes by where I don’t think of him. I once believed I couldn’t possibly live without him, and yet I still killed him.”

“That was not your fault Mikasa,” Jean said firmly, his eyes like embers. She needed to understand that.

“But I keep asking myself what if I had done things differently? What if I had stopped him in another way? What if I tried harder? What if…” she trailed off, gathering her breath, “What if I had been honest about my feelings to him? Would it have changed anything? And I know the answer is no, but I keep asking myself the same questions anyway. I guess my mind plays tricks on me too.”

Jean looked down, “I can’t possibly tell you how to make it stop, but you must remember that you’re not alone. No matter what happens, you have us,” he said, pausing and then looking back at her. “You have me.”

Mikasa nodded jerkily, this time making no attempt at hiding her tears. “I do, don’t I?”

Jean stepped forward and pulled her into his arms.

Before he could regret it, she burrowed her head into his chest, his buttoned shirt quickly becoming damp with her tears.

He did not care, tightening his arms around her in his large frame, wanting to absorb every pain and every troubling thought she ever had.

Mikasa could only press herself even further into him as if she was seeking something but had to keep delving in for it. The night was quiet except for the whimpers that escaped her as they both hastened to get even closer, creating a cocoon of warmth, a little sun between their bodies. Whatever thoughts were troubling her before disappeared, and even if just for a moment, she could lose herself in Jean’s embrace and try to believe that things would get better.

~o~

They had done it. Despite the noises of protest that still echoed throughout the council they had done it.

Jean understood in that moment that they still had a long way to go, but this was an important step in the right direction. For now, a more peaceful world was possible.

They had achieved a quorum of votes in their favor, with Historia presiding over the hearing. The next moments passed in a blur of formalities and shaking hands with officials from all political factions.

He felt as if he were in a daze, every action, and every word he spoke coming almost as mechanical.

After the conclusion of the session, everyone made their way outside of the room, tension permeating the atmosphere. As expected, there were all sorts of manifestations for and against the peace treaty outside.

Jean could hear all kinds of insults outside as he followed Armin closely to the back of the building, where they were supposed to wait for a carriage to take them back to Historia’s residency.

Traitors. Murderers. Turncoats.

The past years had hardened him to any slander, and he could only hold his head up and continue walking to the main hallway, where he could see Mikasa waiting for them.

Her head perked up when she noticed them both, immediately walking towards them.

“Were you here this whole time?” Armin exclaimed over the background noise. They had seen her before the start of the session, but Armin did not think she would stay.

“There was no way that I would miss this moment. You were almost unrecognizable in there,” she said, recalling the scenes she witnessed from her front-row seat in the stands that were free to the public. “I’m proud of you two, of all of you. I had no doubt you would achieve it.”

“We’ll see if they don’t eat us alive first.” Jean retorted, looking grim as the noise of the crowds outside became more prominent.

They went to the back of the building, stepping out onto the cobblestones of an extensive alley. Mikasa had insisted that she could make her way back home walking, but Jean and Armin had none of it. Vehicles and carriages were coming and going in the dim light of the alleyway as the three friends waited for the rest of the group.

Jean could not help but think on how the island was just starting to use vehicles but still relied mostly on carriages. He had gotten used to the strange steel machines with time, which was more than he could say for Connie who had quite the record in car crashes back at Marley.

“Mikasa! You’re here!” Connie shouted as he emerged into the alley with the rest of the group trailing behind him. He gave her a crushing hug, and Mikasa smiled, heartily returning his embrace.

“Of course, I am,” Mikasa replied.

“This demands another round of drinks at your house. What do you say?” Connie said and Jean rolled his eyes. Leave it to Connie to invite himself to people’s houses.

“As long as you and someone else behave…” She commented while staring at Reiner, who was behind Connie and could only look sheepish and turn away.

“Is the carriage here yet? We better get away from these crowds of lunatics.” Annie added, looking shaken while Armin tightened her coat around her.

“There it is,” Pieck pointed to a coming carriage bearing the queen’s emblem. As they walked Jean stayed behind, letting everyone get into the carriage first.

Mikasa was the second last to get in, and Jean moved to help her up before he heard it.

“Death to the Alliance!”

He moved in a flash before they got to her and then he was falling backward, catching a glimpse of her horrified expression, with everything morphing into screams in the distance and the noise of steel tearing through flesh repeatedly.

“Jean!” He heard Mikasa scream.

Maybe it was sheer will, but he shoved the man who had brought him down, scrambling to get to him despite the blade that was lodged between his ribs. He managed to grab the bastard by the hair and hit his skull against the hard cobblestones.

The rush almost left him dizzy, but he kept slamming the man’s head against the ground until the hard noises of bones breaking were soon replaced by the slick sounds of blood and joints being torn. Not too far he heard the guards and his friends taking care of the man’s lackeys. Extremists, no doubt.

He should have seen this coming. Whatever strength he had left him suddenly, his grab on the man’s head loosening before he was shoved and felt two pairs of hands grabbing his neck to strangle him. It wasn’t long before Jean caught the flash of a red scarf and the man was pulled back abruptly and slammed harshly against the carriage, losing all consciousness. Jean clambered to his feet while coughing, feeling someone stabilizing him from behind.

“Jean, don’t move,” Connie said shakily, holding Jean by the shoulders. One look at Mikasa told Connie that they were both replaying another bloody scene from their past in their heads, where their best friend had been taken away from them with a single bullet.

“You’re hurt,” Mikasa murmured, her face looking pale.

The body of the man who had stabbed Jean lay carelessly beside her, as she had done a quick job in knocking him down.

Jean however appeared to not understand what his friends were saying, his eyes glazed over and his body beginning to wobble from side to side. “My suit got ruined,” he tried to joke but only groaned as he felt himself getting dizzier.

He heard the others come near him, but at that point, their voices were just cryptic noises and the lights from the lampposts stretched into long hazy lines. Someone gasped as the circle of blood on his shirt grew and dripped onto the cobblestones below. The violent encounter had given him such a rush that he barely registered any pain and did not notice that the bleeding was rapidly increasing.

“Jean, stay still! We need a medic!” He heard Armin shout as he ran from the place in search of help.

Jean still appeared lost, trying to shrug off Connie and Mikasa’s hold on him. He turned to Mikasa, who looked terrified as she saw Jean becoming as pale as a sheet of paper.

“What a drag, huh?” He said before his eyes rolled back and his body collapsed.

~0~

Everything looked black, with flashes of a fluorescent tree coming and going like waves, distant static noises, and a hand reaching out to him. He found himself surrounded by a dense white fog that engulfed him and then slowly dissipated, revealing an empty street. Jean suddenly recognized where he was, the street from his childhood home in Trost becoming apparent in all its simpleness.

The place was empty as Jean slowly made his way down the steps that interpolated with the old street. He kept walking down the steps, the silent streets appearing to be his only company.

Or so he thought.

“Jean.”

He froze and turned towards the voice, meeting a pair of unmistakable green eyes. It felt like all the oxygen left him as the reason for their current plight appeared before him.

“Eren?” He choked, watching as Eren stood in the middle of the street, tall and unmoving. He didn’t know whether he wanted to run and embrace him or beat him to a pulp. “What is this?”

“I wanted to find something meaningful; this is the first thing that appeared.”

Eren’s words were punctuated by a sudden noise, and he saw the flash of a boy running down the street and fading away. There was a youthful cry and Jean saw the same boy on another corner of the street with a woman. He soon realized that the boy was him as a young child and that the woman was his mother, who was kneeling before him and wiping away tears from his chubby cheeks.

“I don’t understand,” Jean muttered, turning to Eren.

Eren lowered his head, never looking at Jean directly. At least he had the decency to look remorseful, Jean thought.

“I…wanted to say goodbye.”

Jean let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding, feeling all sorts of emotions surge up inside him.

“Why, Eren?” Jean said, his voice quivering.

Eren still wasn’t looking at him. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. But I needed to say goodbye.”

The word goodbye made his chest tighten, and he did not trust himself to even speak but he did anyway. “You-you left, you left and didn’t tell us anything! You acted on your own without trusting us. And now millions of innocents are dying because of you! Why?!”

Eren still avoided his gaze. “None of that matters anymore. I made my choice, and there is no going back for me now. I needed to see you before it happens.”

“Before what happens?” Jean pressed him, but Eren did not answer, he only stared at him with a look he couldn’t quite decipher.

The scene changed, with the streets morphing into indecipherable shapes before they found themselves in the dining room of the training camp. The place they had all met as young trainees. Before them, a pre-teen Jean was talking for the first time to Mikasa, his nervousness obvious through his red face and his awkward attempt at complimenting her hair.

Jean frowned, looking at Eren. “Why are we here?”

“This is your consciousness, I technically have some control, but these moments…they are all meaningful to you,” Eren explained, eyes fixed onto the scene before them. This was the first time he had met Eren and Mikasa.

Their surroundings changed into another scene in the same dining room, where he and Eren were brawling before Mikasa separated them. Jean felt embarrassed not only at their childish behavior but at the fact that Eren knew that Jean had secretly treasured these moments. He fixed his eyes on the scene.

“She always had to mother you around,” Jean murmured, referring to Mikasa.

“Mikasa was always protective of me, yet she never defended me from you. She would reproach me when we would get into fights. Even when you started them,” Eren said as Mikasa gave his younger self a disapproving look after separating them.

“It wasn’t always me. If you weren’t such a pain in the ass, it would have been easier,” Jean grumbled, his words contradicted by his behavior on the scene before them, where he had grabbed Eren in a fit of jealousy.

Eren only gave a sad smile as their surroundings kept changing, fading scenes playing one after the other like the strange projections of those films Jean had seen when they arrived in Marley. There were several moments with Marco, the part of his soul that had been violently ripped away from him. They landed in a different scene, where there were massive pyres of fire and a fifteen-year-old Jean was kneeling before the pyre that took the center, his body shaking in sobs.

“What-“

“You truly loved him, didn’t you? I think he would be proud of you.”

Jean winced, the shadows from the flames dancing all around them. The beautiful friend who had believed in him now turned into ashes. “I don’t think he’d be proud. I never amounted to anything, and now I will probably die trying to stop you.”

Suddenly they were in a different place, with throngs of people walking away hurriedly in their direction. Jean tried to move away but the people passed through him as if he were a mere ghost.

There was a stage set up at the front, where the statuesque figure of Commander Erwin could be seen standing still.

Of course.

This was the night he decided to join the Survey Corps.

They watched as almost everyone walked away to the promises of comfort and safety inside the walls, while only a few stayed. Even when watching as an onlooker, Jean could feel the weight of resolve and terror hanging over everyone that remained behind.

“That is not true. I know you do not want to hear this from me but he always spoke of you at every turn he could. Even the simplest thing would have him singing praises about you. He always said that you would be a leader. I didn’t believe him at the time, but I was proven wrong. Every decision you have made since you joined the Survey Corps has led you to this point… to saving humanity. If anything, you went further than anyone’s expectations.”

Jean felt a lump form in his throat, shaking his head. “I…don’t want to see this anymore.”

As if on cue, the scene changed yet again. The sudden brightness made him shield his eyes as the sun shone brightly and the smell of sea salt invaded his senses. The air was filled with the splashes of water and laughter. In the distance, he could make out the three figures of himself, Connie, and Sasha playing on the shore of a beach. Currently, his friends had succeeded in toppling him over the water, making him yell out curses as they cackled.

“Sasha…”

Jean felt something tighten painfully in his chest as he watched her. This was how he liked to remember his dear friend; happy and carefree, not cold and lifeless.

“I think this was one of the last times any of us was happy,” Eren said.

“Were you?”

Eren looked away, fixing his gaze on another trio by the shore who looked much quieter. Their figures standing still and seemingly staring into nowhere. “I can’t remember if I ever truly was happy.”

Jean scoffed at that. “That sounds like bullshit.”

The titan shifter paused as if in deep thought, then turning to Jean. “You’re right, there were happy moments. You guys…made it a lot easier.”

“And now look where we are. You still haven’t answered me why Eren. Why did you do this? Armin and Mikasa…they try to look strong, but you broke them both.”

“They will move forward just as I expect them to do. I don’t know the exact details of how everything will play out but Armin… Armin will lead humanity to peace with you close by his side. And Mikasa…she’s strong and will move forward with her life. She has always been so much stronger than me, while I didn’t even have the guts to tell her that I love her.” Eren said with a self-deprecating laugh.

Jean’s breath hitched as he heard him. “Then tell her that! You can’t let her go while she thinks you hate her!”

“It’s too late now, what I have done…there’s no way to come back from that. I didn’t always treat her like she deserved, you know. Now all I can do is encourage her to forget me and be happy no matter how much it hurts me.”

There were more shrieks of laughter, with Connie and Sasha now halfway sunk in the water as they swam around Jean, all three of them splashing each other. Not too far, Commander Hange was picking up seashells and staring at them in wonder while Captain Levi stood further from the shore, staring quietly into the horizon. Eren’s words sank in, and he felt a surge of anger and panic at the finality in what he said.

“You…you say that like it’s so easy. Do you ever think about the pain she’s going through? What you put all of us through? You did all this for what? Trying to play the hero for us? Fuck you!” Jean yelled as he lunged and punched Eren, making him fall backward and sending wafts of sand flying up. “You broke me too, asshole! Now I’ll have to live with that if I make it out alive!”

The background was changing yet again, blue skies turning into an azure shade and then into ink-black, with a few scatterings of stars. The beach was now dark and empty, and the air was dead silent.

Jean was breathing heavily, feeling hot tears running down his cheeks but not really caring. Eren was staring up at him, anguish clear in his bloody features. He scrambled to his feet, and Jean moved to help him up. He meant to let him go as soon as he was able to stand, but he only pulled Eren into his arms abruptly, hugging him tightly and letting his tears flow freely.

He didn’t know whether it was something in the atmosphere or the look in Eren’s eyes, but he could feel him fading away. The background changed in a flurry of colors and waves while they held each other firmly and finally landed in a different place.

Jean pulled back and soon realized they were in the barracks from their trainee days. The room was empty, the air only filled with the creaking noises of wood and the chirping of birds outside. He turned back to Eren, who had that same indecipherable look in his eyes.

“I won’t ask for your forgiveness, but I am truly sorry I brought so much pain to all of you. And…I know I have no right to request anything from you, but I am selfish, I have always been so selfish…so I need you to promise me, that no matter what happens, you will move forward and live your life to the fullest.”

Jean felt a thousand protests gather on the tip of his tongue, not ready to acknowledge the finality in his words. There was a certain heaviness in his chest that made him sit down in one of the bunk beds. “I’m not sure that I can.”

Eren knelt in front of him, “you can, you’re strong. More than you give yourself credit for. Promise me, Jean.”

The words echoed painfully, and Jean looked down, his voice coming out weak. “Why does this sound like a goodbye?”

He was met with silence and Eren getting closer, holding his hands.

Jean gasped as he noticed that Eren’s hands looked different.

Their surroundings were becoming dark again, and the fluorescent light that he had seen briefly now appeared to be spreading from Eren’s fingertips and extending towards him.

“It is time,” Eren finalized.

Jean froze. And as irrational as he knew it sounded, Jean could not help but deny what he was saying. “No! We-we can work things out, Eren. Please stop this and come back to us! Please!”

As he finished his desperate plea Eren pressed his forehead against Jean’s, a little frantically. “This is it, Jean. Please don’t ask me to come back. Just promise me that you will move forward.”

The light was spreading more rapidly now, their bodies illuminated in a searing light, two figures in a flame. Jean swallowed the lump in his throat, shutting his eyes tightly before nodding against Eren’s forehead. He felt him breathe a sigh of relief.

“Thank you,” Eren said, and it sounded like the saddest goodbye to Jean.

“I don’t know what to do. What will be left?” He choked, feeling completely helpless.

Eren lightly shook his head, his eyes sad but also alight with unspoken things. “I think you’ll be surprised by the things life has in store for you, Jean.”

Jean was confused by his words, but decided not to question him, knowing that he would disappear at any moment.

“Don’t look away,” Jean said, and Eren obliged, fixing his piercing gaze on him. They remained like that for a good while before the strands of fluorescent light completely engulfed them.

“Goodbye, Jean,” Eren said, a little broken but still strong.

“Goodbye, Eren,” Jean replied, his hands still holding onto Eren’s blazing form until there was nothing left.

~o~

The oil lamp was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes. The flame appeared to be the only thing lighting up the room. Slowly but steady, everything was becoming clearer to him even if he still felt very strange. There was the sterile air, the smell of mercury and alcohol, the moonbeams filtering through the window, and the tears warming his cheeks, a last residue from his dream.

He didn’t know why he was remembering that vision now of all times. His last moments with Eren had happened in a landscape that wasn’t real, and that was something that he rarely if ever wanted to remember. All his memories with the green-eyed boy had contorted into a permanent bloodstain on his soul. And the fact that he did not follow his promise to Eren and instead became a pathetic shell of a man made everything worse.

But his self-deprecation did not last long as he noticed that he wasn’t alone, a shift by his side catching his attention. He could not see her very well, but Mikasa was now looking at him closely, shock and confusion on her face as she noticed his tears.

“Armin! He’s awake!” She exclaimed as she ran out of the room, and Jean heard muffled voices outside where he could only make out the words “doctor” and “Mrs. Kirschtein”.

Mom?

While the voices went on Jean remained dazed, moving the fingers of his right hand in front of his face. He felt so out of it that he barely noticed Mikasa coming back.

“Jean? How are you feeling?”

He only groaned in response, “wh-where am I?”

“The Hospital of Mitras. We were lucky it was close by. Armin went to find the doctor and your mother.” She explained, staring worriedly at the wetness in his face. Mikasa said something else, but he didn’t hear it, his body feeling like a thousand bricks.

“Mom?” he mumbled, scrunching up his face as he tried to move before Mikasa stopped him. “‘the hell did they give me?”

“You’re dosed on morphine. They told us you would be feeling drowsy when you woke up.” Mikasa took in how Jean seemed to stare at her but not at all at the same time.

His eyes were clouded and watery.

Since they arrived the day before, she had been hearing him make all sorts of noises in his unconscious state, muttering different names or things she couldn’t make out. One look at him could tell anyone that he was still heavily drugged. But she also wondered why he was crying.

She saw that he was sneaking a hand to touch the bandages on his ribs, and she immediately moved to pry his hands away. “No! You’re in a delicate state, you have to stay still.”

“Ah my hero,” Jean slurred, “so protective and gentle.”

Yes, definitely drugged.

She was gathering the blankets around him, remembering the way his body couldn’t stop shivering when they had first arrived and how nervous she had been with every single movement.

Reiner had helped carry Jean all the way to the hospital. While they had been lucky enough to be close to the hospital, Jean still caught an infection on the way according to the doctor. Mikasa had some hope now that he was awake, but she couldn’t help the fear that still plagued her. No. She wouldn’t lose anyone else. She would make sure of that.

Her thoughts were interrupted by him mumbling something she couldn’t hear clearly.

Jean’s eyes were blinking slowly, and he was turning his head from side to side. She leaned closer to hear what he was saying.

“It was him…Eren…he talked to me.” He muttered and gave an exhausted sigh, trying to fix his eyes on Mikasa even while she was blurry.

Mikasa was now frozen as Jean looked at her, his eyes still glazed over but there was something else in them now.

“I liked you, Mikasa, y’know? I think I even loved you. Since we were trainees…” he confessed, his voice still slightly slurred before he laughed. “Ah, what a stupid fool. It’s kind of funny,” Jean continued while laughing, a strange picture with the tears that were still drying on his face. He stopped with a groan when the strain was too much.

“Jean…” Mikasa muttered.

“Hmm…I wish he was here; I wish I could bring him back,” Jean mumbled, “I’m sorry I can’t do anything…I’m so sorry Mikasa…”

He turned his face into the pillow, looking like he was about to pass out. If Mikasa was planning to say something, it was interrupted by the doors opening abruptly. That didn’t seem enough to wake Jean from his stupor as the doctor walked in, followed by a trail of nurses. Mikasa could only stand aside as the doctor and the nurses covered Jean from her view, enveloping him in their prying hands and moving white garments.

She remained there as they worked on him, his dazed words replaying in her head like a broken record, his expression etched onto her mind. They had seen each other in the most brutal and vulnerable situations throughout their years as comrades, yet she felt at a complete loss with what she had just witnessed. She forced her intrusive thoughts into the back of her head and remained in her place, where she could do nothing but pray to whatever deity was listening that Jean would be safe and sound.

#jeankasa #snk #attack on titan #jean kirstein #mikasa ackerman #this chapter was long af #the erejean kind of jumped out in this chapter lol

16 notes · View notes

delu-jean · 3 years

Text

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐅𝐨𝐮𝐫: 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

(Jean x fem!/reader) -> (supposed to be angst but...major fluff) -> 4.9k

Notes: This chapter is a little longer, there’s an extra cut at the end, and loads of fluff! Hope you enjoy and chapter five is yet to come!! ^^

Ⅲ > Ⅴ

Jean stood there shocked at the corpse that lay in front of him. How did this even happen? Marco wasn’t that far the last time he checked.

“Is that...Marco?...”

He stood there petrified as his hand clenched. How could this have happened in such a short time?...a lady then asked for his name. Jean was very deep into thought, but eventually gave in.

“Marco...Marco Boddt.”

“Thank you young man.”

---

You left the place where you were last standing. You were still upset because of what happened, but decided to let that go as you watched Jean. He seemed so...helpless. You didn’t need to know much to understand that someone probably died...and Marco if anything (since he wanted to go and check on him).

Instead of forcing him to tell you anything, you put your hand on his shoulder. It showed comfort from a distance which gave enough space. He seemed grateful for your gesture, and looked back at you. Teary eyed, he placed his calloused hand onto yours. The Bonfire was now taking place, and you brought him to an area where you both could sit.

Jean hugged his two knees together, and yet still managed to hold your hand. You didn’t move it though, knowing it was helping him cope.

Sasha and Connie joined not much later, and you all huddled together. You felt the sorrow they expressed and well...you felt such sadness as well. You may have not known everyone, but Marco was still a dear friend to you, heck most of the people in your squad (being Eren, Mikasa, Ymir, etc) were somewhat dear to you. You just, never let them get too close was all. You wished you had let Marco at least. He had always reminded you of Bertholdt...except...he was more optimistic and confident. You truly did enjoy his company, and were sad that it was now gone.

As you all sat, you then saw Bertholdt who stood alone. You sighed as you got up, slipping out of Jean’s grip, on your way to Bertholdt. Yes you were still very angry at him (along with the other two), but you’ve always had a soft spot for Bertholdt. Since he was like an older brother, you could never not forgive him. As soon as you reached him, you gave him a hug. He returned the favour as you whispered:

“Thank you...for warning me in advance. Honestly, I’m still pissed off that you guys didn’t say anything, and did things without my input. But at the same time, your advice did save my behind...somehow,” you chuckled as he nodded.

“I’m sorry Y/n...in truth, I should’ve stayed quiet...but I knew I needed to do something.”

“Yeah...just...no more secrets. Okay?...” he stood there as you sighed yet again.

“Let’s go,” on your way back, you hear as the two teased Jean.

Halfway through, Bertholdt stopped and told you he needed to meet with Reiner, whereas Jean had noticed your presence and tried pushing the two away.

“Ahhh, so that’s your competition. Although, I don’t think incest is a good idea-”

“He’s not her actual brother...idiot,” Sasha scolded which caused the two to argue.

“Guys, shut up. Y/n is coming,” they both quiet down as you approached, smirking at each other in “secrecy.”

You sat beside Jean still concerned. He seemed to relax a little now that you were beside him. That being the case, you finally asked:

“So, how are you feeling?” he looked at you, and then your hands.

“Ah yeah...I’m feeling better,” he cleared his voice. He looked shy for some reason...maybe it wasn’t that, but him being vulnerable?

“What about you?...I know Marco was also a good friend of yours.”

“Hmm...honestly, I miss him a lot. If he were here, he would say something motivating, inspirational even. I wish I got to know him a lot better seeing how nice he was. Well...regardless...I’ll make sure that lives like his don’t go in vain.”

“Mhm,” you scooched in closer.

“Are you still going to join the military police?” you asked as he looked troubled. Maybe he wanted to join the Garrison? You stretched your arms as he stared you down.

“If it helps, I’m joining the Survey Corps.”

“What, why?” a tone of concern splashed over as you eyed him.

“Well...I think everyone...deserves a fair chance...a fair chance at life. And if titans are the obstacles weighing down that opportunity, then I'll try doing anything that will help you guys get one step closer...I really will.”

If only you could do this back at home, in Marely. But killing off titans would never be the answer, not there at least. The heavy boulders they placed on each, and everyone of your shoulders, would never allow the chance of a fair life. One that you have always wanted. So if you couldn’t live out that dream (for yourself at least), you would try to help those here.

At first, you would never have thought to do such a thing, but as time passed, you accepted this place as one with just as many problems as your own. They weren’t that different, except Paradis had a better chance at a newer start. You then looked up to see the stars glisten so freely. One day, you hoped you would be able to as your hand reached for the sky.

“I think...I think I know what I want to do, thanks for that,” honestly, you had hoped he would pick the Mountain Police. It was a lot safer compared to the corpse, and well...it was something he had always gravitated towards. You didn’t want him to die out there...you couldn’t imagine him doing so.

Something you found a little funny was the difference between Jean and Bertholdt. Bertholdt and you were very close, and you would never want him to die. But if he ever did, you were prepared for such an event. But imagining Jean going through death was something that you couldn’t even bring up. You knew Jean was somewhat special to you, but in what way exactly? Maybe in a...no. You couldn’t. You couldn’t think such thoughts.

“Here, we should get going,” he offers his hand and helps you up.

You both walked to your quarters. While doing so, you could see that Jean seemed on edge. You weren’t sure as to why, but by the time you reached the door, all you could do was stare. It seemed as if both of you needed something...but the real question was “what?” What did you both need.

He then put his hand in his pockets, looking downwards as he mumbled the words:

“Well...goodnight.”

“Night.”

He started to make his way, and so did you. Before you could close the door, he caught it mid-way exclaiming:

“Y/n, wait!”

He gives you a small violet. It was a little roughed up (due to his pockets) but you admired it anyway. The way the petals clung, and they way he looked so disappointed in himself (for roughing it up) made you smile. You then put it on top of your right ear, adjusting it the best you could without a mirror, to then asked:

“Does it look good?” he moved it once more and swept a strand of your hair.

“Yeah, much better,” he then drew back quickly as you felt your heartbeat.

“Sleep well, okay? Jean?”

“Yeah, you too.”

---

It was finally the day where everyone had chosen their regiment. Annie ended up joining the mountain police. Based on what they told you, she would be a spy from a different (and more “important”) standpoint. Jean however, decided on the scout regiment, along with the rest of your friends.

“Jean, are you sure? The interior is a lot safer if anything, you should go before it’s too late-”

“You can’t convince me otherwise,” he winked as you shook your head.

“Plus, I can’t let you guys have all of the fun, killing titans? Yeah right, also, I won’t let Eren beat me.”

‘Oh...he must mean Mikasa,’ you thought.

At this point in time, you decided to accept that you had feelings for Jean. Though it was hard at first (because of your boundaries), you eventually gave in with each moment you spent. You were smitten with his charms, laugh, and smile. They kept drawing you in and never disappoint.

You weren’t going to lie, you were scared. Not only were your walls down to such an extent, but you were getting so attached to Paradis. Him just being one of the sources of that connection. It terrified you alright, but that warmth Jean gave, comforted you instead.

The way he would always tease you, make your day brighter, and just grab your attention in general, made you happy. But what kept you anchored was both your fears, and reality. Hearing that he wanted to beat Eren, reminded yet again as to who he liked. Mikasa. Even though you knew she loved the hot head, Jean liked her, and if you could support him, that’s all that mattered.

You crossed your arms in disappointment.

“If you want to beat him, there are so many other ways.”

“Like?”

“Your looks?” you both stood there in an awkward silence. He then tried to laugh things off.

“Okay okay, I’ll be truthful, I can’t let you go out there alone-”

“I have Reiner and Bertholdt-”

“Nonsense, you may have those two, but you’ll need a Jean as well.” You laughed at his remark and so did he.

“No but...being a part of the interior would be a safer option, plus...isn’t that what you’ve always gone for?”

He looked back at the others and said: “Yeah but, now this is what I’m going for,” you smiled a little worried, but knowing Jean, you guys could pull through together (hopefully).

Erwin said the last of his congratulatory speech, and you all headed for the stables. You were getting ready for the expedition that was yet to come. You watched as Eren, Mikasa, and Armin grouped together. You and Jean had just started walking, so the others (along with the trio) were in front of you.

“So, you’re telling me that you’ve all decided to join the corps?”

“Of course, why else would we be here?”

“Then Jean, Marco, and Annie joined the interior?-”

Jean then appeared in front of them along with you.

“Marco’s dead.” he said bluntly. Eren looked very shocked.

“Marco’s not, you must be joking-”

“Yes...he is…” you ensure as your arms crossed.

“I wish I could say I wasn’t, but he is.”

Your cloaks were then given out. “The wings of freedom…” Hopefully, one day, you could grasp onto that feeling along with the people who stood beside you.

---

“Listen Mikasa, unlike you we’re not willing to just throw our lives away for Eren.”

“We need a reason so we don’t hesitate when the time comes.”

“Show us your worth.”

You felt guilty while listening to this. Yes, you would “try” to sacrifice yourself for any comerdae, but when it came to Eren, it would probably be best if another titan ate him (you cherished him as you friend, but also acknowledged him as your enemy).

Yes, it may sound cruel, but your mission would be back in operation if he did so...but then again, did you really want to succeed in such a cause? The look on Reiner’s face reminded you of what your purpose was, and you sat there composed as Jean went on.

You admired his character. He really had grown up a lot during the time he’s spent here. Everyone agreed with his statements whereas Eren took it as a hard pill to swallow. You then all went to your horses (needed for the expedition) and started preparing for the fight ahead.

He was saddling up and looked over at your side, you caught him in the act and made a face. He made things so obvious which amused you. He shot up immediately as you proceeded to tease him.

Show us your worth,” you playfully said while giving him a dramatic stare.

“H-Hey! I did my best, quit yapping,” you both laughed as he came up and pulled you in by your belt. You were baffled (and flustered) to then see him tighten your buckle.

“Just in case...I can’t lose you to another incident...like I almost did last time.”

He probably said that due to the fact Marco was now gone...you nodded and grabbed his hand before it left you, shaking it. He was a little confused, but then heard the words:

“You can trust me, so don’t you dare wipe my trust away,” he chuckled at what you said and tightened his grip.

“I won’t. So stay safe out there, okay?”

“I will, and you better as well-”

“OhOho, am I intruding on this lover’s quarrel? I sincerely apologize with my utmost apology,” Connie teased as Sasha joined in:

“Jean, how dare you. Stealing my girl away? You can’t! She makes the best pancakes there are! Don’t do this to me!” Sasha sobbed as Jean turned red

“OH SHUT UP!”

To your surprise, Reiner jumped in.

“They have a point, if you’re going to take our Y/n away, you better have our approval if anything. Remember, no sneaking out past 9-”

“Says you,” you scowled as he laughed. You have to admit, when Reiner was in his warrior mode, you hated it. He was such a jerk and you needed that personality to disappear, and be on its way. But when he was himself, he was genuinely kind. Yet every kind smile had it’s fair share of frowns. You still wanted to know more about him, and hey, if this Island deserved a chance, so did he.

“I, ugh. Let’s get going, I don’t need a lecture from Captain Levi.”

You laughed and followed along with everyone else.

Jean POV

I liked Y/n...if you couldn’t tell by now. I knew I could make things obvious, but was pretty sure I could cover up my tracks. I’d say I’m pretty good at that...yeah…. Well, regardless, I’ve known for a little while, but wouldn’t say it’s been a very long time.

Even though I had confronted my own feelings, I never tried doing the opposite. It’s not that I didn’t want to confess, rather, some things held me back. One: there’s never been a good time to say anything. As of recently, things have been so hectic and well, Y/n and I have barely gotten any alone time. Two: I was a little insecure when I started liking her. There were just so many other guys who seemed more beneficial than me...even EREN if I had to admit...no...I take that last part back. Lastly, three: I didn’t want my feelings to ruin our friendship.

I really did like her though. Also, I’m not going to deny that I did have a thing for Mikasa (way back when), but after getting to know Y/n better (and myself in general), that feeling of pure attraction faded away. She’s a nice girl, but not my type of woman (whereas Y/n was).

I heard the war cries of those beside, behind, and in front of me. Each filled with ambition along with mine. Not knowing if this would be their last day, or if there would be a tomorrow, made their yells and screams even louder.

I watched as everyone around me poured their hearts into their calls, while Y/n simply sat there, prepping for the battle ahead. From an outsider’s perspective, she might have looked scared, but knowing her, she was just focused. Trying to get a piece of mind before another war commenced.

I rode off with my squad, things were going according to plan until titans started showing up one, after another. Luckily I was able to escape in the midst of it all. Though terrified, I tried my best to keep myself level headed. Even so, I almost died in the process. A titan was on its way to crush both my horse and I, but one of my cremates killed it. Unfortunately, the next titan to come took him out as I ran.

` I was then riding on my own, hoping I could scope out Y/n if the chance was given. I searched everywhere while riding faster, and faster. Although no traces were found, I did bump into Reiner, Armin, and a large titan.

“Why is she running infront of us?”

Armin then explained his theory, about someone else hosting the controls of that titan. Although I wanted to think of something else, I couldn’t just disregard his statement. This being the case, next thing you knew, I was a diversion trying to get the best of the female titan. I swung from her backside trying to get to her nape, but she protected it as I flew.

To my failure, Reiner decided to be a suicidal maniac (yet again) and plunged straight towards her.

“You maniac-” only seconds later, did he escape and we were on our way to find a safe zone.

We ended up going to a remote place with no titans, a couple of trees, and well...ourselves (along with the horses). We sat there hopeless wondering about what our next move would be.

‘I wonder where Y/n is…no...we need to find a way to get out of here first, then I can think about her…’

“Only two horses eh...I guess one-”

“Jean, I found your horse while riding. It seemed terrified.”

“My horse, Buchwald!” I calmed him down by brushing on his mane.

“I’m surprised you came," Reiner said to Christa.

“Well, I wasn’t too far and had Jean’s horse as well. I simply followed it, and it led me to you guys.”

“Wait, Christa, did you happen to see Y/n by any chance?” I asked worried and she thought to herself.

“Hmmm, last time I recalled, she went west from my squad. I haven’t seen her since but, if she’s with Ymir, she should be fine!! Don’t worry too much.”

Even though I felt uneasy, Christa’s gratefulness (towards us being alive) took my mind off of things. We then started to ride around the field, looking for any squad nearby. Luckily, we spot one in the nick of time, and join them.

---

“Yeah, I’m sure the commander is looking for shade, that way, he can set up a picnic for his scouts.”

“That’s very...unlikely,” Armin replied.

‘Great, we have to sit in these trees for gosh knows how long. This is going to be a pain,’ I swung along with the others.

Titans sprawled all around us and we all sat waiting for other orders. Not only wasI agitated at that, but also at the fact I haven’t seen Y/n even once. Where could she have gone? Last time I saw, she didn’t venture too far from me...well...that was at the entrance, so who am I kidding.

I looked around the trees to see many cadets, but not Y/n. Armin caught me doing so, and sighed as I then looked back at him.

“What?”

“You’re worried about Y/n-”

“Maybe I should use my ODM gear to look for her-”

“Jean,” Armin interrupted.

“I’m sure she’s fine, she’s with her comrades. Plus, have a little faith in her. She’s a fighter you know?” he smiled as I sighed.

“Yeah...she is...really is,” I then grinned hoping that...she still was one...literally.

“It’s not that though...I just...don’t trust her surroundings,” I peered down and saw almost a dozen titans. Armin nodded and then said:

“Yeah, and we shouldn’t either.”

I started to think to myself. I knew he meant that in a more “literal” way, but looking at it in a “metaphorical” stance, got me thinking differently. I know I’ve gotten to “know” Y/n during the time given, but have I really gotten to “know” her?

I think I did?...but then again, Y/n has always had a side I’ve never been able to reach. You know, she’s always talked about finding freedom for others, giving them the chances they deserved...but never talked about what she wanted. I hoped...truly hoped that maybe I could help her reach that feeling as well.

---

We all retreat in failure. The female titan had gotten away, and now here we were. So many lives lost for such a useless operation.

‘No Jean...let’s not think like that...I wonder where Y/n is,” I started riding faster to the front of the brigade, hoping I could find her.

I passed horse by horse, person by person, yet to my dismay...nothing. I broke a sweat while riding to see Ymir. Reminding myself as to what Christa had said, I approached and asked:

“Where’s Y/n?”

“Ah, she’s in the cart over there. Don’t cry too much,” she smirked as my eyes widened.

‘Why the hell was she laughing?...the hell is wrong with her?...’

I rode towards the cart Ymir pointed to. I didn’t think to look through any, because I had assumed she would be alive. I gave myself a moment to prepare myself for the worst. Even though I did so, I knew nothing would be able to prepare myself for her death...never…. I could feel my eyes water, still shut, ready to open until I heard a voice.

“Jean?”

“Y/N!? YOU’RE ALIVE!?” my eyes widened almost immediately.

“Yeah...I lost my horse and hurt my ankle during the process. Ymir basically carried me the entire time, but once we had decided to retreat, I told her to drop me off here.”

‘That wench-damn, she really got me thinking differently,’ I sighed and nodded my head.

“Are you okay though?”

“Yeah, it’s nothing to, ouch-” she winced and my reaction was to swoop in, but I pulled back as she adjusted the cloth given.

“Okay then...I’ll ride beside you until we get back,” the person riding the horse then winked at me and I panicked.

Hoping Y/n didn’t see, she grinned saying: “Alright, don’t miss me too much though.”

“Haha, I won’t.”

‘Because I already have...so much…’

Original POV

When you had gotten in the walls, you weren’t welcomed with the best greeting. Jean had made it his priority to shield you, and you were grateful for that. As soon as you made it back to the stables, before the medical team could take you, Jean insisted he would instead.

You weren’t exactly sure as to why, but you didn’t oppose it. He carried you by resting his right hand under you, and his left behind you, making sure he didn’t crush your legs in the process.

“Could you...um...cling onto me?” you quickly draped your arms around his neck as he started walking. It only felt like seconds before you both appeared at a field. Tall grass roamed everywhere, along with an assortment of both insects, and flowers (more grass if anything though).

He analyzed the area to then shake his head.

“Ah, I’m really bad at this,” he muttered.

“Sorry…” he placed you on the ground (gently) and then took off his cape. After doing so, he then placed you on top of his cloak, and you giggled.

You wouldn’t deny that it was cute. Even though your clothes were splattered in blood, he still put in the effort so you wouldn't dirty yourself even more. He seemed very stiff, it looked as if he was nervous. You weren’t sure as to why exactly, but regardless, you gave him the time he needed to adjust. You teasingly patted to your left, and he quickly moved over to sit. You let out a small laugh at his attempt, which put him at ease.

“It’s very pretty.”

“Not as pretty as you are.”

“I’m sorry, what?-”

“I-I mean, well...UGH DAMN IT!”

You sat there stunned. Did he really meant what he said? You looked at him shyly as he started to mumble to himself. What if he did really mean it?...But Mikasa?...you were so confused. Very actually. He exhaled and looked back at you.

“Is your ankle feeling better?”

“Yeah...I guess so,” you both sat in silence, until he said:

“Y/n...you’re a good friend,” all optimism had gone down the roof as you sat there confirming your thoughts about him, and Mikasa. He could tell the mood had instantly changed, and tried fixing it.

“No, wait, that’s not what I mean damn it. Here goes nothing...Y/n...I like you...like you a lot to the point it drives me crazy. I couldn’t stop thinking about you throughout the entire expedition. Wondering if you were safe or not...if I would make it out alive in time...”

“You know, originally, I had thought that I would need the right time to tell you how I felt, but I soon realized that time wasn’t going to wait for me. It may sound a little cheesy, but we could die today or tomorrow. That being the case, I needed to tell you as soon as I could.”

You looked at him as his expression had softened. Although he was looking at the sun setting in front of you, you could tell his heart was seeking elsewhere. That place being you. This feeling... the warmth...it felt so familiar, but instead of feeling foreign, it felt natural. You gazed as fingers played with the grass that lay beside you.

You felt as ease knowing that he liked you back, and that the Mikasa ordeal was over with...hopefully...since that doubt still ran through your mind, you asked:

“Wait, you do?-”

“Before you say anything, I need to prepare myself.”

“For?”

“Rejection.”

“What?” you laughed as he closed his eyes.

“Of course, only a girl such as yourself would give up on this beautiful masterpiece. That’s how special you are.” he winked as you rolled your eyes.

“No but...I am being serious. Although I confronted that way I felt not too long ago, I’ve always had this lingering feeling in my gut...for you…” he blushed and you followed. But just to make sure:

“What about Mikasa? Didn’t you want to beat Eren?...what happened to that.” a little scared for his response, he said:

“Oh, I meant in general. I gotta try and surpass him at least. He may be a titan but well...I’m Jean,” you both laughed.

“So...what about you?”

“I...can’t...I like someone else…”

He paused, shocked. Sure rejection was one thing, but thinking you liked someone else made his heart sink.

“It’s Bertholdt I’m assuming?..”

You shook your head.

“AHH DON’T TELL ME IT’S EREN!!” you laughed and kissed his cheek. You could feel his face burn up after you doing so.

“No, I’m just kidding. I like you too, a lot...a lot more than you know.”

He held his cheek for a moment, it almost seemed as if...he wasn’t functioning (A/N: ExE JEaN hAS StopPEd WorkiNg). He then looked at you shocked, and beamed brightly (to the point it was blinding, but in a good way).

“You mean it!?”

“Of course-WOAH!”

He lifted you up out of joy, you winced a bit (bc of your ankle) and he immediately stopped. He’s a tad worried (but more excited) and immediately asked: “sorry, you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” the cape that was draped around you, was now wrapped around your figure since he adjusted it. He then puts his head in the crook of your neck and said: “thank you Y/n…”

“For what exactly?...”

“For not rejecting me,” you laughed and you could feel him smile on you.

“No but in all honesty, for being there. You’ve always had my back in times where I never knew I needed it. Humbled me when I should’ve done so myself, and cared for me when I was reckless. And now...you’ve given me the best gift I could ever have.”

“That being?”

“You of course.”

Your smile softened as you kissed his cheek yet again, making his head raise, meeting eye to eye.

“You’re one of, if not the best thing that’s ever happened to me...Jean”

ExtRA (in dot jots/hc’ish):

Warning: slangish grammar

EVERYONE WAS SPYING

Y'ALL COME BACK TO SEE CONNIE'S BALD HEAD WAVING THROUGH A WINDOW

JEan yELlEd aT thE PooR Boy

He (being Connie) then rats everyone out and they come forth (with such spying eyes)

Eren then yells: “SO ARE YOU GUYS DATING NOW, OR WHAT!? WE’VE BEEN WAITING FOREVER!”

“WHAT!?” you both exclaim

Sasha *visibly crying for a dramatic effect*

Christa looking like a saint blessing a marriage between two doves

Ymir: “y’all ain't slick, that’s all imma say.”

Bertholdt be giving older brother vibes, and don’t say anything. Reiner on the other hand, makes a face (teasing of course) and walks away with Berty (it’s like, giving his baby away...which is illegal)

(Jean feeling like he’s committed a crime after Bertholdt’s reaction-)

Mikasa smiles for once, and is awaiting for your answer

“Well-”

“Yes, yes we are...if he’s okay with it-”

“O-of course I am,” you both blush as Eren rolls his eyes (teasingly)

“You guys are like a bunch of kids. Alright, we should head to bed now. Y’all have all the time in the world to be lovey dovey, but for now, let’s hit the hay.”

For once, Jean agrees with eren who gives you both a playful grin

“Especially you horse boy, you gon need it-”

“WHAT DID YOU SAY!?” -a very angry JeAn

Armin taps your shoulder and whispers “congrats,” as he catches up with the other two

Jean is visually embarrassed, but then looks at you and feels nothing but happiness, along with yourself. One you hoped would never disappear.

Ⅲ > Ⅴ

#aot #attack on titan #aot fanfiction #aot x y/n #jean #jean kirschtien #kirschtein #jean kirschtein x reader #jean x you #jean x female reader #jean x y/n #jean x reader #series #one of them #chapter four #horse boy #attack on titan x you #attack one titan x reader

19 notes · View notes

itsclydebitches · 5 years

Photo

Discredit Part Three! (Click on each pic for something resembling quality!)

Part One---contains translations, podfic, and related works---Part Two

Tagging, credit, and transcript all below the cut 💜

First off, people who specifically asked to see more of this nonsense may God in all Her glory bless you accordingly:

@internet-or-sleep, @just-some-girl-on-the-internet, @readytoocomply, @vocallsama, @fellowshipofthegay, @lucky-leafeon, @alph4centauri, @sumoranges, @diaphanedreams

Aziraphale’s profile pic is courtesy of good old Neil, found here. All others are from Creative Commons.

Sorry it took so long to produce more stupidity. YOU ALL ROCK 🎊🎊🎊 Here, have a messy transcript.

Abdou G.

Have you ever walked in on a conversation and, despite clearly missing the majority of it, feel like you could reconstruct it, word for word if necessary? That happened at Fell’s today. The ‘talk’ had obviously been going on for a while, but I can give you a perfect summary here: rude fuckboy thinks he gets to say who God is, Fell was having none of it.

Best response? Turn around, walk back to your apartment (pro-tip: this only works if you’re just a few blocks away), and change your shirt. I walked back in with my I MET GOD, SHE’S BLACK tee and had the pleasure of seeing Fell do a double-take.

“Yes, thank you, that’s what I’ve been trying to say!”

***

Doug E.

Scout’s honor: I once saw that Crowley dude unhinge his jaw and eat a large pizza in one goddamn bite.

Update: you heathens read about this gay abomination with his dislocated jaw and what you decide to question is whether I was acTUALLY A SCOUT?

***

Mary L.

I came in with my four-year-old last week fully intending to keep him within sight at all times. Yes, I bought one of those kiddie leashes and no, I don’t regret a thing. You try holding down two jobs as a single mom to the bonefide antichrist. I love my boy, but the devil got to him, telling him things like, “Yes, Freddie, permanent marker would look just great on Mum’s only work jacket!”

I said as much to the owner because this mom needs to vent sometimes.

I wish I could give this place a higher rating, but the ownership is frankly terrible. Inconsistent hours, no help when you’re trying to find a book, just basically all around bad customer service, BUT it still gets five stars because when I told the guy I was raising the antichrist?

“Oh yes. I did that myself not too long ago!”

We parents need to support one another. Otherwise the world is going to burn. So here’s a good review for you, Mr. Bookshop Guy. A part of me hopes you’re a better dad than you are a bookseller. The other part? The bigger part? It’s very aware that Ms. Pot here just met Mr. Kettle.

Now if you’ll excuse me, Freddie just got into the flour.

***

Alfred B.

I hereby nominate Mr. Fell as the British Steve Irwin. I’ve never seen anyone handle a red bellied black snake like that. I mean yeah, they’re a chill species overall, but there’s a difference between casually handling a snake and fucking chucking one onto the chair because it’s in your way. (Okay. Maybe Irwin was a little nicer.)

Renee K.

whos steve irwin?

Alfred B.

...How old are you?

Renee K.

Alfred B.

You existed on this planet for two years with him and you dare to ask me this? Go boil your head and then use google. Good god.

***

Mark F.

overheard the owner telling his boyfriend that last they met his brother tried to set him on fire? and succeeded?? actually now that I think about it, not sure which brother they were talking about---his brother or boyfriend’s brother--but WHOEVER has the brother needs to... i don’t even know. do something about that? ring the police or go to therapy or SOMETHING. i mean maybe they already have, i’m just an eavesdropping tourist, but the idea of someone setting that bow-tie cutie on fire—DID I MENTION THAT? PERSON ARSON. MURDER—makes my blood boil

***

Shiefa N.

People aren’t joking about overhearing weird conversations here. I walked in on two men (owner and husband? owner and escort?) debating Seven Minutes in Heaven. You know, that stupid kissing game the better looking kids got to play in middle school. It got pretty heated at one point (pun not intended), arguing about whether seven minutes of making out was divine or damning behavior. I hung out long enough to catch the segue into a lust vs. love debate and then had to skedaddle. Nice couple. I support their weird flirting habits.

***

Chang Z.

Is it legal to visit a store for things other then what it sells? I realize that makes me sound druggie or something but I swear I’m dealing with a much healthier addiction. (Ha. Maybe.) I cosplay (yeah, yeah, move along, trolls) and Mr. Fell has an absolute wealth of historical clothing. It’s astounding! I thought they were particularly detailed costumes at first, but no. I’m majoring in Textile and Apparel Studies. I know a naturally worn piece of fabric when I see it. Mr. Fell is always cracking jokes about how he wore this frock in the 19th century, this shirt in the 17th, oh don’t you just love my old vest? (He has... so many vests...) I indulge him because anyone who lets me borrow this stuff for free deserves all my attention and fake laughter.

Yeah. You read right. Artifacts borrowed for free. He’s even let me alter some of the stuff because I’m not exactly his size. Should this stuff be in a museum somewhere? Probably. Am I calling anyone to take my personal cosplay supply away? Noooope.

***

Leah M.

Helping to spread the word here because I’m not sure how much foot traffic this place actually gets.

I pass Fell’s every morning on my way to work and yesterday there was a new sign in the window. This might not seem very interesting to most people on here, but you’ve got to understand that Fell’s never changes. None of it. I’ve lived in Soho since I was a boy and this place has always had the same placard with his insane times listed, same stripped paint on the door he’s never gotten around to fixing, same spiderweb in the corner I absolutely swear. My dad used to pop in there when he was in college and I swear he’s taken me through the stacks, points out books that haven’t moved in 30+ years. It’s nuts and more than a little bit impressive.

So you can imagine my shock when I passed by and saw not one, but four new papers in the front window. They’re drawings and I recommend going and taking a look for yourself. I don’t think I can accurately describe the utter chaos of crayons and glitter that’s displayed there, let alone what it’s trying to depict. A dystopia? The end of the world? If so the apocalypse features a surprising number of dogs.

There’s a fifth paper off to the side, written in Fell’s messy penmanship. It just says, “My god-children drew these!” and if that’s not the cutest things you’ve ever heard get out of my face.

***

Gabriel A.

azirfell

alzaphral

azzzzzirafal

i’m a litttle drunk but azifjkaafha’s place is good he just needs a name easier to spell

***

Aziraphale

Dear Gabriel A,

My partner Crowley told me about this site and the many lovely well-wishes you all have left us here. I have come to express my thanks and to offer a bit of advice. You are hardly the first person to struggle with my name, dear girl! I recommend the following three step process:

A - simple, yes? + zira - a nickname I’ve adopted over the years, easy enough to recall + phale - this is admittedly more difficult as our ending, “phale,” is neither spelled in a way nor presumed to be pronounced like the “fell” sound we end up with. In truth my name is more along the lines of Azz-ear-raf-AE-el, but change is inevitable and you needn’t hear about that transformation, nor the etymology involved in getting “fell” out of “phale.” I say this not because I don’t wish to teach you, but because my partner has reminded me--in a rather rude tone I should add--that this site has a word limit. Suffice to say you should simply memorize the “phale” portion and you shall be, as the expression goes, in tip top shape!

Best regards,

Aziraphale

P.S. Nothing personal, dear boy, but I fear I’m not terribly fond of your name either. I would highly recommend changing it if you’re ever of a mind to do so. Cheerio!

#good omens #ineffable husbands #air conditioning #long post #good omens fic #(apologies for that)#(tried for text post and the quality was totally unreadable)#pgnbri #attempting to tag you here #since tumblr won't let me do it in the post :/

5K notes · View notes

level247-table-tech · 4 years

Photo

here are the sprites on their own! not all of them, but there are way too many to fit up there. i’m leaving the rest under the cut.

others include significantly asymmetrical sprites, as well as a bonus set. 8)

these don’t really clarify their relative heights. they are not adjusted to the bottom pixel i actually drew for sure, that’s not how i aligned them. i actually have a guideline in the file, but. i can’t really show that.

above are the regular sprites. it took ages to figure out what i wanted to do with virgil’s plaid, but it turned out going simple with it was the best plan. also it looked very bad until i figured out to use values correctly.

also, while we’re at it, i can tell you some things i changed between projects! this is a remaster of my last attempt at pixelology, and i do believe it’s an overall improvement.

virgil’s plaid, yeah, changed that, but also the colour of his hair, because the old one blended too much with his skin. glad that happened to virgil, because i was trying to keep the hair highlights the same for everyone, with differently-tinted shadows. i did give him a bat instead of the wings this time, because a, he seems like a bat kind of guy, and b, the wings sucked and i don’t think i could improve them. like, the best thing about those wings is that they were the ace flag colours, and since his general colour scheme is already like that, it’s not a spectacular saving grace. they also made the frame fit weird, but i don’t like drawing wings absurdly small, like why bother? i alos tried to be a bit more competent with the jacob lines in his shading. those are an indicator of fear so of course i wanted to keep them included, but last time i feel like i didn’t do great, and this time i think i improved. especially on the legs. it is kind of a pain how there are adjacent sections where the shadows are done in the same colour, but. that’s really who virgil is, let’s be real. wouldn’t be the same without the all-black clothes.

also, patton’s different skin tones were really bad, you could barely see the shadows, so i changed them. his overall shape also did not work, so this time i stylized it a bit more to fit with the pixels. also i gave him a different weapon. hopefully it’s still funny in its incongruity!

roman had very little change. like, i really like his original sprite! i did change some of the gold details, but the biggest thing is probably the pants. they’re white with a red stripe because, a, it looks very good, and b, it set up a parallel with remus.

and remus. most obviously in the first one, his different head angle super didn’t work. it was very bad! which, in his case doesn’t automatically rule it out, but this one looks way better next to the majority of these. i mentioned relative heights earlier and this one should actually be the same height as roman, you can align them by their chins. aside from that, i added a lot mor detail to his ruffles, i tried my best to maintain clarity on his torso, i got the sleeves just plain wrong, but it looks fine, and it happened to be very good art that led me astray on that, so whatever. i feel like his morningstar might have gotten worse between versions, but what can you do. maybe i accidentally put it at a slightly harder angle to make look nice. whatever.

logan! i don’t think i’m doing these in any real order, sorry. like patton, his shape has been changed to be more stylized to fit the pixel thing. like, a realistic taper on the legs, as it turns out, looks pretty bad! exaggerate it or make it just straight lines and it is better. i feel like i very much improved his hair, and i also added the belt that he wears which i forgot last time.

lastly, janus. well, lastly for now, but the next one won’t be a remaster of anything. i gave him his canon weapon instead of snakes, which, not sure what i was thinking gameplay-wise for those. [that’s a lie, i was thinking nothing about gameplay because i am no gamemaker. i’m not even an animator, much as i’d like to be.] when i made his last sprite, i forgot the lining of his cape is yellow. also last time i had not seen the magnificent longer cape from the game sections of svsr, which as i’ve mentioned elsewhere i am never letting go of, ever. so that features here. it kind of blends with the backgrounds i use for the vs character selection screens, but i don’t think that’s necessarily a downside. aside from that, i did remove some scales from his right hand because we have now seen it, and it’s proven bereft of those. as you’ll see in a second though, fortunately no such thing can be said of his legs. nor upper arm.

now for the bonus set. you may recognize this theme if you’ve followed this project awhile. 8)

some notes on these specifically:

-this is simply a complete set based on janus’ bonus sprite from the original project this is remastering.

-i tried to base the colours on their onesies. that proved harder than expected. remus and janus have no shown onesies, but

>i had janus’ previous sprite on hand, so that was him taken care of.

>virgil’s onesie didn’t really have multiple colours, so it’s just different shades of black, with some grey thrown in because white is already a base colour.

>logan’s, oh boy, i thought i remembered it having two colours, but i was wrong, it is just blue. and white, but again, that doesn’t work. so i gave him a couple of shades.

>patton’s, i didn’t really want to use grey as a colour, but it actually had two others, they were just in trace amounts. it was okay.

>remus. nghh. i wanted to use like, an inverted version of roman’s colours, but it turns out blue and yellow inverted is yellow and blue. so i used the orthogonal colours instead, and i’m not really sure it was a good look.

-aside from colour schemes, each of these has its own little variation, because i felt like having fun. aside from any kind of socks/leggings, because whatever, those are pretty variable anyway, each has one detail different. from most to least noticeable as i see it:

>patton has pants instead of a skirt. i just thought the look suited him better. the thing about patton is i always imagine him in Dad Fashion, which doesn’t have a ton of skirts in my mind. maybe that’s just my dad, but eh. i do think it’s a good look but i didn’t draw it very well.

>roman has a different crown. need i explain further? adding the others’ crowns was a bit of a pain considering how they interact with hair that isn’t drawn in anime style.

>virgil’s might not be too noticeable on its own, but the leggings kind of direct the eye there. he’s wearing his own boots instead of any variety of sailor scout ones. mostly because they are much, much cooler.

>logan has a different collar. closer to his usual polo than... whatever the sailor collar is actually called. he also might not have the same choker necklace as everyone else, but mostly you just can’t tell. still tied with a weird bow thing, though. how the hell do those bow accessories work?

>janus has a longer cape. again, need i explain further? he’s also the only one with a magical girl wand, because his colour scheme* was the most permitting and i really wanted to draw coily ribbons.

>remus is kind of like virgil with the leggings, but again, those don’t count, and with remus they draw attention away from his change. anyways, the different thing about his outfit is the sleeves. i only noticed long after i was out of the pixel stage that none of the sleeves are accurate, but his are even more not accurate, they do the poof thing. also his neckline’s a bit lower, but i mean, how could i not?

-i might assemble a full scene with these, if anybody asks. or nobody, i kinda just want to. it’s not too much trouble, but it won’t be animated this time, that took ages and i don’t think it even turned out well. i gotta find somewhere to actually get taught things about animation, though it also just does not gel with my medium.

-i can’t for most of these, but for janus i can talk about some improvements. his crown looks more visible, though that might just be compared to this side of his face. the skirt is not better and might be worse to be honest. also the bow on his chest. other than that it’s definitely better for the gloves actually being incorporated in this one.

*i do actually have set colour schemes for these. i tried to even limit the number of colours for each one. that said, most of them have exactly 17 instead of the nice power of two 16, and one of them couldn’t even fit that bill.

#sanders sides #tsfanart #pixel #my art #tabletech #8)

96 notes · View notes

meowdymista · 4 years

Text

Van der Driscoll Pt 7

Part 6 - Masterlist

Part 8

This is a bit of a filler chapter, which is stupid for the ratio of original wording to in game script ratio. Next one will be more engaging, I promise. Also sorry for the long wait; I took time off from writing last week because it was my birthday, and then England swept into a second lockdown so it’s been poo trying to prepare especially in work because I process somms for small-medium businesses but whatever. No one is getting much for Christmas this year lol

****

You find, much to your relief and Arthur’s annoyance, that Sean’s chaotic charm and energy swallows everyone’s attention over the next few weeks. He’s loud, boastful and brash: The Irish Terrier as Arthur and his adopted fathers call him.

You can’t help but find his totally unapologetic nature comforting. Whilst washing shirts, you overhear him get Molly to admit she considers him no better than a chimney sweep from the local bog - and immediately crucify her for it, calling her “snotty nosed” and a “right little madam”, much to her dismay. After the weeks of dirty looks (despite little to no actual confrontation), Sean brings a breath of fresh air. With him nearby, you know exactly where you stand and whether anyone in the vicinity is plotting against you.

“Please, Y/N,” groans Arthur into his hands one evening. “Please tell me you ain’t makin’ friends with that bastard.”

“Why?” you ask, genuinely surprised. “Isn’t he like a little brother to you?”

“Yeah, but not in a good way.” He moves his hands to give you a look of despair. “What’s wrong with Lenny? Or Tilly? Or Mary Beth?”

“Karen’s fun,” you muse, earning yourself another groan.

“Always with the loud drunkards,” he grumbles.

“Mmhm, and what was it Dutch said? When you go missing he checks the saloon, and if you’re not there he checks the jail?”

“Shurrup.” He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you onto his body, grinning as you protest, laughing.

“Don’t play innocent - Hosea’s been telling me stories!”

“Ahh, don’t go listening to him. He spins stories for a living, and anyway I was a kid in most of them.”

“And the stories I’ve heard from Lenny?” you smirk, still fighting despite it proving futile with you laughing so much. He growls, peppering your exposed skin with kisses as you wrestle playfully.

You cry out when a flailing limb makes contact with one of your swollen breasts. Arthur immediately releases you, watching you with concern as you try to rub out the punch without swearing.

“Y’alright?”

“Fine,” you huff. “Just sensitive is all.”

“I’m sorry - shouldn’t be playing so rough with you when you’re… in the way tha’ you are.”

“It’s fine, Arthur,” you repeat firmly, staring him down. “I’m fine. You didn’t knock my stomach, so we’re fine. Like I said, I’m just sensitive.”

He hums doubtfully.

Following a shootout with the Pinkertons and the law in the middle of Valentine, Dutch had ordered the camp out of Horseshoe Overlook and ushered you south east into the state of Lemoyne. On the other side of Dewberry Creek, Arthur and Charles had scouted a hideout chistened Clemens Point. Arthur hadn’t been the keenest to tell you that story, but you had weaseled it out of him.

Micah had recommended the dried out river bed, but when Charles and Arthur had arrived to scout it, there was an abandoned camp nearby, complete with a dead body. Whilst trying to assess the location’s risk to a group of outlaws should they move in, Arthur had moved some crates to find a woman with her two children.

“I guess I saw you,” he mumbled sadly, avoiding eye contact. “An’ the mess I might leave you in one day.”

You rubbed his shoulder patiently. “What happened?”

“I told ‘em to go ‘cause we needed the land.”

You were confused by the guilt still plaguing him and told him so. With a heavy sigh, he described how the girl translated her mother - that their father had been kidnapped and how it took Charles insisting otherwise to convince him to go look.

“So it’s really thanks to him we found this place,” he says gesturing at the open space bordered with woodland and lake.

If anything, you prefer this new destination to Horseshoe Overlook, and not just for the absence of bad memories. You love the sense of freedom swimming gives you: how it makes you weightless, how easy it is to tilt your head back and listen to the low rumble of the earth and water. You also enjoy that the road is more than a stone’s throw away here. A wanderer would have to purposely go out of their way to discover the camp, to hear the noise or see the light of the campfires. Clemen’s Point made you feel safe, even with the occasional canoe sailing by with a wave.

The new location lifted everyone’s spirits. So much so, Dutch dragged Arthur and Hosea out fishing. They returned hours later - singing and surprisingly sober - with deputy badges and a boat load of fish. Whilst the shiny badge continues to earn Arthur a lot of gib from you and everyone else in camp, Dutch insists the news is beyond fantastic.

“We are inaugurated in the local law!” he cries during one of his many speeches. “Hiding in plain sight!”

Still tired and snacking throughout your waking hours, you are relieved to find your morning sickness has passed its peak. Whilst you feel like your veins are popping out of your skin, Arthur insists your stomach is beginning to curve. You accuse him of an overzealous imagination until you try (and fail) to button the jeans from your past life as an O’Driscoll and your shirts that still fasten offer little to no breathing room.

“Think a trip to town is in order.” You jut out your bottom lip, demonstrating the distance between the buttons and their corresponding holes as your lover looks on laughing.

“I think you might be right.” You don’t resist as his fingertips tilt your chin up to plant a kiss on your lips. “Let me go see if Pearson’s got a list and we’ll head out. Think they’ll do another couple hours?”

“Don’t really have a choice,” you grumble, stealing Arthur’s worn blue shirt from under the cot. You can hear Sadie and Pearson bickering even from the edge of camp, so it doesn’t surprise you when Arthur’s tone cuts through the noise.

“-ain’t cooking work?”

Looking over, you see Arthur has taken the expostulating Mrs Adler aside. You look away quickly - there’s no reason to ruin an acceptable day by agitating her enough to start shouting at you too. Her and Pearson have been at each other’s necks since she’s pulled herself out of the worst of her depression, almost as though he has become the target of her grief.

You focus your attention on preparing the cart. A trip to town means a trip for supplies, and with so many mouths to feed, horseback wasn’t a viable option.

"How are you, Miss?"

You turn around, surprised at being addressed directly by someone other than Arthur. Seeing Kieran’s familiar pastiness relaxes you a little. As an ex-O’Driscoll himself, you trusted him the most not to stab you after Arthur and the little boy, Jack.

"Fine," you reply flatly, brushing out the tangles of the shire’s mane.

"We ain't really had much time to talk since we was in Tall Trees a few months back, have we?" You hum in response, trying not to flash any amount of flesh by moving too much. The poor boy was skittish enough. He immediately begins to help you, being the horse fan he is.

"I never even suspected a thing, Miss,” he gushes. “So I bet you anything Ol' Colm won't have neither."

"So you two were close, huh?" You barely contain the sarcasm.

He shrugs off the question awkwardly. "Which feller was you again?"

"Well I must’ve been good if you have to ask." You feed the shire a carrot, avoiding eye contact. "I was Thomas," you admit quietly. The following silence is prolonged. Doubtful.

“Thomas Donoghue?” You shrug your shoulders. “So you were friends with Paeder then?”

“Peter?” You respond coolly. “Never knew him.”

He opens his mouth as if to argue, but Arthur is marching across camp, shouting back over his shoulder to Mrs Adler. Spooked, Kieran bolts to a safe distance, doing nothing but look on as Arthur helps you up onto the back of the cart.

Acknowledging you with a sneer, the other woman takes her place on the bench up front. “So I’ve graduated from choppin’ vegetables to shopping?”

“Shut your goddamn mouth…” grumbles Arthur, reins in hand as the cart moves off. You give Kieran a small, apologetic wave farewell, but it’s difficult to contain the relief of your companions’ timing. Paeder was a private matter, and one which you had no desire to discuss out loud. You’re sure the shaky man meant no harm, but some things were better buried.

“You cooled down then, yet?” Arthur asks the widow, distracting you from your thoughts.

“I guess,” she grumbles. “And I ain’t no scullion! And I sure as hell ain’t takin’ orders from that sweating halfwit!”

You can almost hear his eyes roll. “Well I guess we all gotta do our share, princess.”

“Where’s that letter?”

“Oh, you reading his mail now?”

Sadie throws him a dirty look. “Robbing and killing’s ok, but letter reading’s where we draw the line?”

You stifle a smirk as Arthur pulls it from the inside of his coat, knowing he’s been had. “Here.”

“Dear Aunt Cathy-”

“You are somethin’ else…”

“I haven’t heard from you in some time, so I prayed to the Lord above that your health has not deteriorated further… bla bla bla�� s’boring… Oo! Wait a sec, listen to this! Since we last corresponded, I have travelled widely, making no small name for myself.” You all laugh out loud. “Before you ask, I am still yet to take a wife, but I can assure you it is not for lack of suitors.” Arthur barks out laughing again as Sadie giggles. “He ever actually talked to a woman he ain’t paid for?” she asks in disbelief.

“Look, we’re all hiding behind something.” Whilst his tone advises the limit of fun has been reached, the smile is still audible.

“And what’s this? Return to Tacitus Kilgore?”

“Oh that? That’s Dutch’s idea. All mail to be sent to the same alias. Whenever we set up somewhere new, Strauss, he heads into town, tells them to start expecting mail from a Tacitus Kilgore or whatever they changed it to… Here, gimme that back. We got work to do.”

You all sit quietly as the cart rolls into Rhodes. The locals watch you, wary of the unfamiliar faces, but you keep your head high. Strangers smell weakness. It’s better to come off aloof and avoid trouble than to present as vulnerable and be beaten down at every turn.

“Ok, here we are.”

“So what’s the plan?” Mrs Adler points a pistol at the side of the building, squeezing one eye shut as she gauges the iron sights. “I shoot the shopkeeper, while you-?”

“No! You insane?”

“Well I thought we was outlaws…?”

“Outlaws! Not idiots!" he hisses, pushing down the gun as he looks around for any witnesses. "We rob fools that rob other people! These people- they’re just tryna get by! So you head on in there, and you buy us some food to eat. And no guns.”

“Are you sure?”

“This time.” The two of you share a look again as he helps you down. “There’ll be plenty o’ time for killin’ soon enough.”

“What are you doin’?”

“I’m gonna go check the mail, nothin’ exciting.”

Sadie shrugs and saunters off. Arthur sighs and shakes his head, touching your arm. "You gonna be alright?"

"Here's hopin'."

"Any trouble, holler. Stay outta her way best you can though, alright?"

Knowing that his concern lies with your companion's open hatred for anything remotely O'Driscoll rather than your ability to defend yourself, you nod. Blowing him a cheeky kiss, he waves back at you with a grin as you enter the general store.

"-flour, oats, salt, eggs, apples if you have them..."

"Sure, not a problem,” responds the shopkeeper as he begins to gather the goods. “Big family, have you?"

"Somethin' like that." Mrs Adler barely spares you a glance as the titter of the doorbell announces your presence. "And you sell clothes?"

So Arthur had explained to her your purpose for the journey. You're flattered, if a little bewildered at this kind gesture. From the looks she’s been giving you, you’re surprised she has buried the hatchet of your past so quickly.

"We do. Not the widest range of ladies fashion, I'm afraid."

"That's alright. I'll look at everything you got."

"Of course, Mrs…?"

"Kilgore," she smirks, turning to bat her eyelids at you. You realise then that her request is completely unrelated to you. Why wouldn’t it be? You’re not the only person that has been swept into the Van der Linde gang with little more than what you were wearing on your back. From Arthur’s story, she escaped with nothing more than her wedding ring and her nightclothes, so it’s only natural that she is also in need of a new wardrobe. "What? You don't even trust me to handle the shopping by myself?"

"You're not the only one in need of new clothes, Mrs Ad- Kilgore." You force a polite smile at the sales clerk whilst Mrs Adler browses the shelves dully. "What are the biggest sizes you have in stock? Any maternity wear by chance?"

"Ain't many women round here makin' babies," he sighs, pulling out a few options. You can feel Sadie's eyes burning past you at the pile. "You're best tryin' Saint Denis or ordering outta the catalogue. There's a tailor in Blackwater I heard is pretty good for that sorta thing, but it's quite the journey-"

"Too far for me, I fear." You flick through the pages as Mrs Adler leaves to try a few things on from the pile in front of you. Writing a quick list with estimated sizing, you purchase the largest button up shirt and skirt for sale. The trousers will have to wait for another day - you know investing twenty dollars in a pair that you'll breach the waistline of in a matter of weeks is a luxury you can't especially afford right now.

Mrs Adler on the other hand spares little expense with a sturdy pair of jeans. Finally out of the cumbersome skirts, her whole character changes and suddenly you feel the same pit of dread you did when faced with a full camp of spitting Van der Lindes all those weeks ago.

Intimidated, you step outside whilst she settles the bill. You take a short wander up the main road, taking in the familiar buildings with apathy. Who would have thought you would end up here again? Now you’re not so apprehensive about your life span, you can see how rundown this dusty crumbling town is. The few shops that are open have seen better days, and the best kept building is the bank. You feel your skin crawl as you spot the large parlour houses on the horizon. Of course this place is struggling to survive - anywhere that profited from slave labour deserved to rot. Part of you hopes it’s slow perilous march to abandonment continues: it would be disappointingly merciful to see a place be lost to one good shoot out.

“I’ve birthed foals with more strength than you!” Mrs Adler’s cursing sinks your stomach as you navigate your way back to the store where a man is helping her load the cart. “Hell, my sister’s newborn had more strength than you and he came out bright blue!”

“I’m trying.”

“Try harder!”

Spotting Arthur, who is strolling back himself, fills you with relief. The shopkeeper walks back to the porch, checking the list before walking back. “I think this is everything,” he says, swinging the sack of salt on the cart.

“Thanks… here, take that for yourself, okay.” She flicks a silver coin and he catches it out of the air, scowling.

“Thanks,” he spits.

“Well, give it back then! Jesus! I didn’t ask for his goddamn help..." She pushes the sack on more securely to stop it rolling off when the cart moves. “OK, get on. I’m about done here.”

“Why don’t you drive?” suggests Arthur coolly after making sure you’re sat safely amongst the supplies. “C’mon lady, get a move on.”

She scowls as she takes the reins. “I like Sadie, not lady.”

“I know. So you get everything?”

“I think so.”

“And some… new clothes, I see?”

“Don’t start,” she sighs, the heat returning to her voice. “I can wear what I damn well want. Like I told you, my husband and I shared all the work. I wasn’t some little wife with a flower in her hair baking cherry pies all day.”

“Yeah, I don’t doubt that. You sure look the part now. Won’t be long before you’re smoking cigars and playin’ the harmonica.”

“I’ll have you know I used to love playing the harmonica before… well… my house and everything I owned got burned to the ground.”

“I know... I’m real sorry. About what you… you know. Maybe I’ll keep my eye out for another one.”

“I don’t want no pity,” she snaps. “Just… treat me equal and know… nobody’s taking nothing from me ever again.”

Arthur hums in comradery. “Just don’t kill the camp cook…”

A horse gallops up alongside you. “Hey there! What are you folks up to?”

“Just heading home,” says Arthur casually, adding a quiet “keep it cool, Sadie”.

“You’re in Lemoyne Raider country. You need to pay a toll to pass through here.”

“No, I don’t think so.”

“You don’t think so?” The hairs on the back of your neck prickle at the anticipation of conflict. You realise with a sinking stomach that you’re completely unarmed. “How about you pull over right now?”

“Pull over?” he repeats incredulously. Your eyes scan the bags and boxes around you. There has to be something here that can double as a weapon of some kind.

“That’s what I said.”

“Hey!” calls Sadie coolly. “How’s about this?”

A pistol cracks and the Lemoyne Raider cries out in pain. She ushers the horses on with a Go, go, go! as Arthur stands up, drawing his revolvers and firing. You duck down as bullets fly over your head, your hands scrambling for anything that could be of use.

“What the hell was that?” cries Arthur furiously.

“They was gonna rob us!”

“A new pair of pants and you think you’re Landon Ricketts!” He curses loudly as more men run out in the road ahead.

“I’m gonna run this son of a bitch down!” she shouts, pulling the wagon over one raider and off the road.

“Well you wanted to see some action, lady, now you got your wish!” Arthur slings his longarm from his back and shoves it in your direction as he continues to fire. You can see more men coming out from between the trees and you take aim, knocking them down one by one as Arthur clips off any extras over your head.

“You alright there, Sadie?” you shout over the gunfire. Arthur is still firing behind you, but she’s out of your line of sight from where you’re crouched behind sacks of grain.

“Of course! You think I can’t handle these fools?” You don’t retaliate and you can almost hear her voice aim at Arthur. “Told you I could shoot a gun, didn’t I?”

“I don’t remember asking you to prove it,” he grunts, tossing you extra ammo just in case. The last bastard is fleeing south down the dirt track. You take aim, but he’s out of range.

“Yeah you run, you goddamn coward!” screams Sadie before taking a steadying breath. “I think we’re good here. Nice shooting. I’ll drive us back-”

“No! Pass those reins here!”

“Why?”

“Because you’ve caused enough trouble already.”

She doesn’t find grounds to argue, instead looking back at you, her face straight and unreadable. “We showed those bastards, huh?”

“Remind me not to get on your bad side,” Arthur scowls.

“They was clearly plannin’ to bushwhack us!” she argues, facing forward again.

“You did good, but that’s a lotta mess to make near camp. Hope it don’t bring anyone sniffin’ around.”

“Are you gonna tell Dutch?” she asks mockingly.

“Maybe… if he asks. But, maybe not.”

“So who did they say they were? Lemoyne Raiders?”

“Yeah, somethin’ like that. Who knows… Anyway, don’t you go ribbing Pearson about that letter.”

“How dare you? I wouldn’t dream of it!”

“Riiight, you wouldn’t…”

“I have travelled widely, making no small name of myself…”

Arthur laughs. “I won’t be giving you no mail to post any time soon, that’s for sure.”

She chuckles too. “I just wanna peak in that journal of yours. The mind boggles.”

“Not a chance…”

“You didn’t get yourself killed then, Miss Adler?” calls Pearson, strolling over smugly as Arthur pulls up near the horse station.

“Not quite,” she responds truthfully.

“Well, I’d like to say I missed your refined conversations, but I’d be lying.”

She accepts the box shoved into her chest without complaint. “I… I enjoyed myself out there.”

“Yes, we err… Mrs Adler did ok!” He holds up his arms and lifts you down gently by your waist.

“At shopping?”

“Yes, at shoppin’...”

The double meaning doesn’t go unrecognised by Sadie who thanks him with genuine gratitude.

“Don’t mention it. I would ride with you again, Mrs Adler, if you will ride with me.”

“Maybe,” she laughs. “If you prove you can handle yourself.”

“Well, they say I lack finesse, but I ain’t afraid of gun smoke.”

“We got this, Arthur. You’ve already done me a big favour today.” Turning to you with a smile, Arthur accepts the repeater you proffer. It’s best to remain unarmed for now - there’s no need to risk one of your lesser fans finding an excuse to regard you as a threat. “Okay, Miss High and Mighty. And… nice pants by the way.”

“You okay there, Y/N?” He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in close to his side. “You manage to find something too?”

“Just about,” you admit. “Had to put in an order. How long do you think we’ll be around here for?”

“Until we can’t most likely. Everything alright? They didn’t catch you or nothin’, did they?”

“Of course not, Arthur.” Your weak smile is genuine and heartfelt at his concern. “I’m not above shouting when I’m shot.”

“‘Course not.” He rubs your back, leading you back to your shared tent. “You gonna try them on, or what?”

“Nah, I figure I might as well make the most of still being able to fit in this stuff, even if it’s only for a few more days.”

He laughs, pulling you into a big hug. “Fair enough.”

From under his arm, you spot the rousing attention of Herr Strauss nearby. You nudge him in warning, but it’s too late.

“Ah, Herr Morgan! How are you enjoying yourself out here?”

“Well enough, I guess,” he replies gruffly. “And you?”

“Well, it turns out the pursuit of freedom is not a cheap business. Not for us, and not for some of the locals.”

“Sharking, already?”

“I prefer to call it banking.”

“You ain’t the one handing out the beatings,” snarls Arthur.

“No, but I am the one feeding the women and children in the camp,” he retorts. “What choice do we have, Mr Morgan?”

Arthur sighs. “Ah, I don’t know. Well, come on then! Tell me who…”

You stop listening as Strauss reads off a list of names, and only tune back in to hear Arthur ask how many he expects to be able to pay.

“With enough encouragement, both of them!” he chuckles, his black eyes twinkling from behind the round spectacles.

Sighing, Arthur returns to where you’re sat on the camp bed. “I’m sorry, darlin’. I’d best be gettin’ on.”

“Don’t worry about it.” You stand up to kiss him. “The gang comes first.”

He grimaces at that, but doesn’t dispute it. You give him another kiss for good luck and wave him out camp before dropping the flaps, not missing the glare of bitterness from Sadie across camp.

#red dead fic #rdr2 fanfic #rdr2 fic #red dead fanfic #arthur morgan x female reader #arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan x o'driscoll #meowdymista

23 notes · View notes

samgtt700 · 4 years

Text

The Will of Time

Chapter One

A/N: this is just one of the ideas I’ve been floating around in my head and finally jotted down. So let me know if you like this!

KamilahxMC

Alice jogged across the street, slipping around cars, hearing them toot but ignoring them, smiling when she saw Kamilah waiting by the park. Jumping the last steps to stop in front of Kamilah who didn’t appear impressed. “Hey wifey. How was your day?”

“Your very late but I’m fine.”

“I’m sorry. I took longer to finish my reports and I had a few last minute delays with the finance reports.” Alice greeted Kamilah with a heated kiss, knowing it was her way of getting Kamilah to forgive her. Feeling Kamilah gasp as she pulled back.

“Hmm...” Kamilah sighed in approval. Her eyelids half closed before seeming to shake it off. Crossing her arms. “Not this time.”

“How many times did you delay us when you worked?” She entwined their hands. “Besides. Lily rang. She loves Los Angeles, though insists it’s more day than night. And then we started talking about what we’re doing for our anniversary.”

Kamilah chuckled softly. “Lily will survive. She wanted to help them make a movie about us.”

“I don’t think a movie can properly cover us.” Alice gently squeezed Kamilah’s hand.

Kamilah raised Alice’s hand to her lips, pressing her lips to Alice’s knuckles. “I hope they don’t expect us to make an appearance.”

“Is my wife grumbling about the fact we might have to appear on the red carpet?” Alice giggled.

“Yes.”

Alice snorted. “Sorry. I just never- I couldn’t picture this is how much you would change. I remember when you use to steal me away for a dance or two at Adrians Galas.” Alice wiggled her eyebrows seductively. “You use to say it was for public images but we both know you loved dancing with me.”

“I didn’t like them but it was expected of me. And you were just a bonus I enjoyed thoroughly.”

“Hmm...” Alice narrowed her eyes. “I do remember one particular evening we snuck into my office.”

“We had sex enough times in my office. It was only fair we finally had sex in yours.” Kamilah reminisced fondly, “it was even better than all the times in mine.”

“How so?”

Kamilah pecked her cheek, her lips moving to her ear. Playfully nipping before huskily whispering. “Because you are my wife.” Her knuckles grazing over her cheekbone, Alice shuttering when she felt Kamilah back up to a nearby wall. “I wonder if it might be worth us skipping dinner entirely and going straight to dessert? We can always order something later.” Looking at Alice with hooded eyes, her hands gently exploring her curves. Her hands knowing exactly what to do to entice Alice, to make her ache so badly for Kamilah’s touch.

Alice smirked before shaking her head. “You are incorrigible.” Pressing her hand against Kamilah’s chest and pushing her back to give her some space to breath. She noticed something in the corner of her eye, “what-”

Kamilah could barely move when they were blasted by a blinding light. Landing flat on her back, “Alice!” She quickly flipped to her feet, surprised when she couldn’t find her wife. “Alice!” She walked around before stopping dead and turning to face who was responsible for her wife’s disappearance. His hands glowing.

“Hmm... you shouldn’t be alone at this time of the night. The streets can be dangerous.”

“Where is she?”

He grinned sinisterly. “She’s the least of your concerns now Kamilah Sayeed.”

——————————————————————————

Alice groaned, feeling cool sand beneath her. She slowly sat up, rubbing her temple. “Kamilah?” She saw a camp in the distance, the only light in darkness surrounding her. She slowly approached, stopping dead when she saw an ancient Egyptian crest on the main tent. “Wow.” She whispered before feeling the tip of a cold blade pressed between her shoulder blades.

“Who are you? Why are you out here?”

Alice turned around. Recognising the ancient dialect Kamilah had taught her. Unsure how someone else knew it. She narrowed her eyes at the man before her, barely lit by the campfire. But his eyes. She could recognise them anywhere. How did this man have her eyes. “My name is Alice.” Alice answered. Her heart thumping hard in her chest, struggling to wrap her head around everything happening. Where was she? Why did this man look like Kamilah. Where was Kamilah? Why wasn’t she in New York anymore, her head spinning a little.

“Alice is not an Egyptian name.”

“It’s- Ah, I think it’s Greek.” Alice answered.

“Hmm.” He lowered his blade, gesturing to her dress. “Your clothes. They are not from here. I do not recognise them.”

Alice glanced down at her dress. The neckline showing her cleavage intentionally for Kamilah’s pleasure. “Ah.” She wasn’t sure what to say, how to even explain her outfit. “Have you seen any clothes like this?” Gesturing to her outfit.

“No. I have not. It is not what I would say is the current fashion.” He answered. A sly grin on his face. Oh, he has to be related to Kamilah with that grin, there was no doubt in her mind but how. “Though I’m certain some would enjoy it.”

Alice swallowed hard. “I may need a change of clothes.”

“You still have not answered why you are here?” He didn’t move. Narrowing his eyes. “How do I know your not a spy?”

Alice rolled her eyes. “I’m not here to hurt you.” Walking for his camp. “We need to find someone I think will be around to help me.”

“Who?”

“Ah. It’s a long story but hopefully they can send me home.” Alice hoped they would be able to help. She didn’t want to wait 2000 years.

“Wait.” He jogged over. Pressing a hand to her shoulder to stop her. “You can’t order me around.”

“I don’t have time to waste. And besides. Your helping me go to- wait. Is Alexandria the capital of Egypt?” Alice asked.

“Yes. Alexandria is our capital. I’m not due back until weeks end. I have to finish scouting the region for Roman troops.”

“The romans are coming. Tell your people that. Now can-”

“How do you know?”

Alice put her hand to his mouth to silence him when she felt movement in the sand, a human heartbeat. Afraid and alone. “We’re not alone.” She grasped his dagger and ditched it into the darkness.

“Agh!”

Alice zipped across the sand. Grabbing him by the throat. Seeing his Roman uniform. “Found your spy.”

“Step back.”

Alice let him go. The man drawing his blade and killing him without questioning him. “Your suppose to- never mind. How do you- oh.” Alice saw his satchel, the information the young man pulled out.

“He knew nothing. He’s a messenger.” He read what he could before leaving the body behind, walking back for his camp. Alice finally getting a good look at the young man. “Woah.”

He stopped. “Don’t tell me. I have a pretty face and-“

“No. You just look like someone I know.�� Alice twisted her wedding ring. Knowing Kamilah would love to be standing here instead of her. A strange feeling washing over her, she wanted to ask so much but it would only confuse him.

“You wanted to know my name. Lysimachus Sayeed.” He stoked the fire. Glancing at Alice. Admiring her beauty. “You are quite beautiful.”

“My partner says the same thing.” Alice smiled. “Do you have some clothes I could-“

“Ah yes. We will return to Alexandria tomorrow with this information. Hopefully my sister can make something of it.” Lysimachus entered his tent.

Alice froze. Kamilah was in Alexandria. “Your sister?”

Lysimachus laughed. “Kamilah. She will be thrilled to see me. Less so that I have you with me. She seems to scorn some of my company. I think perhaps she is jealous.”

Alice didn’t know what to say. She had met Kamilah’s brother and he was so different to what she expected from the stories Kamilah told her, a cheeky fellow, complete opposites. “I just hope Alexandria can provide me some answers.”

“After the grand feast my cousin is holding of course. You will accompany me and be the talk of the evening.” Lysimachus insisted.

“Oh...” Alice gulped. Not expecting an invitation, maybe the feast could help her find a way home, back to New York, back to her Kamilah. “Thank you.” She bit her lower lip nervously, she had to meet Kamilah’s family. This was not what Alice ever thought she would have to do, the realisation hitting her that she couldn’t even tell them how happy Kamilah would become in the future. How at peace she was, blinking away a few tears. Her hand feeling her wedding ring. She would find a way back home.

Lysimachus stepped out. Offering Alice some fine clothes. “This should fit nicely.”

Chapter Two.

Tags: @mrskamilxh, @wildsayeed, @made-me-deep-blue, @thequeenofbaddecisions, @iam-the-fuckin-queen, @witchesplayatnight, @kamilahsqueen, @kamilahsayeed-owns-me, @kamilah-sayeed-let-me-love-you. Let me know if you want to be added!

86 notes · View notes

bouwrites · 4 years

Text

Even Heroes Have the Right to Dream: Chapter 4

You took for granted all the times I never let you down.

First, Previous, Next. Ao3.

Story under read-more.

“Jon? Can I bother you for a second?”

Jon looks up from his assignment to Marinette. Honestly, it’s a bit of a relief to take a break from it. “Sure.” He says. “What do you need?”

“I’m planning to call Alya, soon. You know who she is, right?”

“Your best friend, right? Through a lot of grade school, I think you said. Is she the one that wants to be a reporter?”

“Yeah. She’s been bugging me to meet you, recently, so I was just wondering if you’d pop in to say hi for a bit.”

Jon smiles. “I get to meet your Paris friends? Cool. I’m down. You calling her now?”

“If you’re not busy.”

He shrugs. “I’ve got some homework, but I need to take a break anyway. I’m good.”

“Awesome!” Marinette chirps, taking out her phone. “Uh, fair warning, though, your parents are sort of her journalism idols, so she might be a little weird.”

Jon laughs. It’s not everyday someone outside Metropolis knows his parents well enough to bother connecting him to them, but the ones that do are all journalists, so Alya knowing makes sense. “And she hasn’t wanted to meet me before now?”

Marinette ducks her head nervously. “I… may have not told her your last name.”

“Pfft. Really, Marinette? Is she pissed with you for keeping that secret from her?”

“Oh, absolutely. In my defense, I didn’t know until almost the end of the semester! You told me your parents are journalists, but I don’t know names like Alya does. And she does talk about Lois Lane a lot, but I didn’t know your mom’s name. I just assumed it’d be Kent. I would have told her sooner if I realized.”

Jon shrugs. “That’s fair. Journalists aren’t really big names unless they’re, like, T.V. anchors. Can’t blame you for not knowing.”

Marinette snorts. “Tell that to Alya. Anyway, I’ll call her. Get ready, and don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

She hits the call button, and nearly immediately another girl’s voice is coming from the speakers. “Marinette! Is he there?!”

Marinette rolls her eyes. “Yes, Alya, he’s here.” She pushes Jon towards the couch and sits down next to him where they can sit comfortably close enough together for the camera to pick up the both of them. “See? Meet Jon, my roommate.”

“You’re Jonathan Kent!!!” Alya shrieks. She lets out a long string of something in French before taking a deep breath. “Marinette, I cannot believe you! You’ve been living with Jonathan Kent for months and you didn’t tell me?!”

“I didn’t know his parents were the people you’re always going on about! I told you as soon as I did!”

“Mari.” Alya draws out the last vowel in a long whine. “Lois Lane is my hero! How did you forget?!”

“Uh, because her name is Lane? I’ve never met Jon’s parents. I didn’t know his mom’s name. I just knew his is Kent.”

“And how many times have I talked about Clark Kent?!”

Marinette covers her face. “That I just forgot. To be fair, what are the odds that my roommate’s parents are your heroes? It just never occurred to me.”

Alya laughs boisterously. “Good point, girl. I guess I can’t be too mad at you, since you are finally introducing me.”

“Aha. Speaking of.” Jon says. “Nice to meet you. Marinette’s told me a lot about you.”

“Hi! Oh my god. Have you seen my blog?” Alya flinches. “Wait,” she says to herself. “Can I just ask if he’s read my blog?” She shakes her head. “Will you read my blog? If I can get feedback from the Jonathan Kent, I’ll be that much closer to being the best reporter I can be.”

“Alya!” Marinette chastises. “Jon is very busy with University. He doesn’t have time to review your blog for you.”

“It doesn’t have to be right away!” Alya protests. “He can do it when he gets to it!”

Jon clears his throat. “I, uh, also don’t speak French, so…” Alya curses. Jon thinks. It’s in French, but it sounds like a curse. He laughs. “I’m flattered, but I’m not sure I can help you much. I’m not a journalist yet myself, anyway.”

“But you are studying it, aren’t you?” Alya asks.

Jon rubs his neck. “Well… no. I’m still undeclared. To be honest, I’m not really sure what I want to do, yet.” He sighs. “And am quickly running out of time to figure it out.”

He feels Marinette’s comforting touch on his shoulder. “You’ll figure it out.” She says.

“Yeah, maybe.” He shakes his head, looking back to Alya. “Anyway, you have a blog? It’s about the superheroes there, right? Ladybug and Black Cat?”

“Chat Noir.” Marinette corrects him. “Ladybug’s name is in English, Chat Noir’s sounds so weird translated.”

Jon laughs. “What’s weird about Black Cat? I’m pretty sure there’s like, four different cat burglars going by variations of that exact name. At least.”

“Exactly. French, Chat Noir, is a hero. Black Cat is a villain name.”

Jon rolls his eyes. “Fine, fine. Chat Noir. I haven’t heard much on them lately. Not since the big news when they beat their bad guy.”

“They’re still around.” Alya says. “They’re doing more conventional heroism now. Or, at least, Chat Noir is. Ladybug hasn’t been seen for some time.”

Jon frowns. That’s news to him, but then since he’s off-duty he’s fallen out of touch with the most recent hero news. His dad has been respectfully keeping that stuff out of their talks, thankfully. It’s none of his business, anyway. “Huh. Hope she’s okay.”

“We think she is.” Alya says. “Chat won’t give us much, but apparently it was her decision.”

That’s relatable. “Ah. Cool. Good for her.”

Both Marinette and Alya give him strange looks. He shifts awkwardly under their stares. “I hear Superboy is off-duty, though.” Alya says. “Your parents are the number one source for super news. Would you happen to know what happened to him?”

Jon shrugs. “Can’t say. Mom and Dad usually don’t share details of articles with me, so I don’t know any more than they’ve made public.”

“You’re not worried about one of your superheroes just vanishing all of a sudden? The Justice League says he’s just taking leave, but don’t you think it’s a bit odd?” Alya asks. “It’s been months since anyone’s seen him.”

Good. Jon thinks. He laughs, but the sound rings bitter to him. “Why should I be worried? He’s Superboy. I’m sure he’s fine. The same could be said for your Ladybug, and you don’t seem worried.”

“Oh, I’m worried.” Alya says pointedly. Jon isn’t quite sure what the emphasis is for, but… talk about superheroes is normal, superhero business is none of his. Whatever Alya’s hinting at isn’t his concern. Ladybug is probably fine, if Chat Noir says so. “But I know the situation with Ladybug better than I do Superboy.”

“Funny, I’m the other way around. I guess there’s nothing to worry about, after all.”

Alya hums. “Maybe. I hope not.”

Marinette shifts the conversation to a lighter topic, to Jon’s relief, but something inside him stays unsettled. He doesn’t like worrying everyone, but he’s not in charge of the PR. The League is surely just trying to maintain some control over the situation, implying that he’s on some temporary break and not gone indefinitely, or maybe they just… don’t believe that he’s serious about this.

He can… he can buy that. The son of the boy scout in blue giving up heroics? Laughable. A Kryptonian living on Earth like he’s just a guy and not some god among men? Why would he lower himself that way? Because I am just a guy. Jon thinks bitterly.

The League does a lot of good in the world, and Jon respects them for that, but they just don’t understand having power and not wanting to use it. To refrain from using it makes sense to them. To hold back from using all his power is exactly what they want him to do. But they just can’t even imagine not wanting to use power that they have.

To be fair, there was a time that Jon thought the same way. His powers are a part of him, so why shouldn’t he use them? Now, when he finally has some semblance of peace, when he’s living his own life with ordinary people in an ordinary way… going back terrifies him. He’d rather lose his powers entirely than go back to using them to fight all the time.

He still feels guilty that his powers can be used to fight for good. He can, so he has to. That’s what his dad says. But… he doesn’t want to fight again. It doesn’t matter if he’s fighting for good if he’s still fighting. He’s tired, and he wants to live this ordinary life he’s found.

Super-hearing sucks. Jon decides this at God-knows-O’clock in the morning when he wakes up to the distinct and unfortunately familiar sound of glass being cut. By one of Damian’s Goddamned toys.

Damian, you motherf-

His thoughts are interrupted when he tunes in to the sound more and hears ragged, uneven breathing and the pitter-patter of liquid hitting hardwood.

Hell.

Jon throws himself out of bed and floats over the ground to make no noise – the last thing he wants to do is wake up Marinette – to go see what the damage is.

He enters the living room and there, naturally, is Damian. In his hero costume. Bleeding on Jon’s furniture. And there’s a hole in the window. There go our deposits. Sorry, Marinette. “I hate you so much.” Jon hisses.

“I’ll fix the window.” Damian snaps. “Just help me with this.” He’s holding his thigh tightly, trying to keep pressure on two different areas.

“Did you get… shot and stabbed? In the same leg?”

“I do not need your judgement, Kent. I need your supplies.”

Jon sighs and flies over to the bathroom to retrieve the first-aid kit. Luckily, Damian is more than capable of stitching himself back together, because right now Jon is doing his absolute darndest to not crush his friend instead of simply keeping pressure on him. As Damian focuses on the blade wound, Jon keeps pressure on the bullet wound, gritting his teeth all the while.

And while Damian focuses on his bullet wound, Jon gets the lovely job of cleaning up all the blood before Marinette sees it. Goddamnit, Damian.

Damian huffs. “There. Now suit up, I’ll need your assistance to finish this mission with my leg the way it is.”

Jon wrings out the towel he’s absolutely going to have to throw away now into the sink. “No.” He says. “I’m retired. Find someone else.”

Damian scoffs. “You’re clearly not busy. With you there it won’t take long, we simply need to-”

“I said no, Damian!” Jon throws the towel at him. At least Damian has the decency to start cleaning up the rest of his mess himself now that he’s not busy staying alive. “I’m not Superboy anymore. There are plenty of heroes who can help you. Call one of them.”

“Jon. Seriously.” He deadpans. “Stop trying to make this difficult. It will be simple. You’ll be back before sunrise; it won’t be any bother at all. Now come on.”

“What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? I’m. Not. A. Hero. Anymore. It’s bad enough you’re breaking into my home. I’m not getting dragged onto another stupid mission with you because you can’t understand what off-duty means.”

“What is wrong with you? I came here because I was bleeding out!”

“And now you’re patched up.” Jon bites. “So, bye!”

“You’ve taken a long enough break. While you act like a child, people’s lives could be in danger.” Damian growls. “Stop whining and suit up. I need your help.”

Jon’s gut screams at him. It sinks sharpened fangs into his flesh and tears and rips and revels, because Jon knows Damian is right. People are out there right now who need help. Help he can provide. It is beyond selfish of him to refuse for such childish reasons like he’s tired or stressed or shaking with barely suppressed terror at the very idea of putting the cape back on.

Before Damian shows up in his apartment, Jon doubts he’s a good person. Maybe he was once, maybe he was just acting in some facsimile of one in his dad’s shadow, but now? Now Jon is certain. He’s a failure. A disappointment. A blot, marring that almighty “S” everyone cherishes so dearly. Because even now, even as Damian, who has dragged him out on so many missions before, comes to him crippled and bleeding, asking for his help to save innocents, Jon can’t bring himself to go with his old friend. He begs to, he yearns to, but he can’t. Something cold and pale and stony holds him back and solidifies his… resolve seems too positive a word for it. It isn’t strength at the core of his refusal. It’s fear, pure and simple. “Find someone else.” Jon says. “You’re the one overstaying your welcome. If lives are in danger, you’d save them faster if you called in backup from heroes who are actually working.”

“How can you sit idly-”

Because I’m not the person you think I am. “Because I’m not a hero!” Because I’m not strong enough. “You’re the one ignoring procedure! It’s been made crystal clear that I’m not an active hero, anymore!” Jon fears Damian can see how his tightly clenched fists shake at his side. Damian is certainly too observant to miss such an obvious tell. Pathetic. “Superboy is retired! Don’t assume I’ll drop everything I’ve been doing to run out the moment you decide I should!”

“Jon! Superboy is needed! Will you just ignore the call of duty?”

Don’t ask me that. Please. “I will! That’s not my job anymore!”

“Then why did you help me?”

Jon sputters. Because you’re my friend. Because you could die. Because… I’m selfish and I can’t distance myself enough from you to stop. “Because you were bleeding on my floors. I don’t know what you’re doing, and I don’t care.” This much, at least, is honest. Jon doesn’t necessarily not care at all, but he cares far less than he should. And he does desperately wish to not know. “I’m done with that life. I’m finally starting to feel-”

“I don’t care what kind of tantrum your leave has been about.” Damian says. “You’re needed now, so come on!”

Stop pushing. There’s a tightness in Jon’s chest, restricting his breath, stronger than any chains. If you don’t, I don’t know what… “Are you just incapable of listening?!”

“…Jon? Wha-”

Thunk.

Everything falls into deathly silence as all three people in the room absorb what just happened. Marinette, in her nightgown, sleepy and disoriented from being woken up by the yelling, is standing there in the entranceway, wide alert now, looking between Jon, Damian, the window, Damian’s bandaged leg, the bloody towel on the coffee table, and the batarang firmly rooted in the wall an inch from her head.

Damian just threw a batarang at Marinette. At Marinette.

“Never mind.” Marinette says coldly. Jon’s heart turns to ice at the frigid tone. It doesn’t belong in her voice. “I don’t want to know.” She turns away, like Jon is up at such a dumb hour eating ice cream instead of fighting with a hero standing in front of a man-sized hole in their window.

When Jon hears the click of her door closing, he rounds on Damian. Self-pity, self-loathing, doubt, all of it leave his heart in an instant. All he feels now is anger. Something fiery consumes him and he sees red. “Get the hell out of my home.”

“I-”

“How fucking dare you! You break into my house, demand my help when I’ve already made it clear you shouldn’t call me for that, and you attack my roommate?! Do you realize what you’ve just done?!”

“She has remarkable reflexes.” Damian says.

“Get the hell out of my house!”

Damian clears his throat awkwardly. In a calmer state of mind, Jon will later remember this is a sign of Damian’s embarrassment, but at the moment he doesn’t care to think twice about the gesture. “Yes… of course. You clearly have damage control to do here, with your identity possibly compromised to a civilian. I’ll find someone unoccupied to assist with my mission.”

Jon just gapes at him. “What the hell is wrong with you?!”

Damian picks up the circle of glass and hangs outside the window for a moment to fix it back in place and seal it before he takes off.

The window looks good as new, but there’s a bloody rag on Jon’s coffee table and… the damage is done. Oh, God. He sighs, picking up the towel again and throwing it in the sink. Now what?

He has no idea how much Marinette heard, if anything, but even just seeing Damian here in his hero costume is dangerous. She’ll wonder how he knows Damian, why Damian came here.

All this, coming to New York, all this work in college, his entire life right now, is to get away from heroism. In one night, Damian breaks in and uproots all of it. Months of building up his life here, and now he’s in the deep end of the hero nonsense again. Great. Just great.

Maybe… maybe it’s salvageable. Maybe it’s okay. Maybe… there’s only one way to find out. He has to start damage control as soon as he can. God, I’m tired.

He spends another few minutes wringing the blood out of the towel. It’s as good as it’s going to get, but he thinks he’ll still probably buy a new one tomorrow. Then, with a heavy sigh, Jon trods over to Marinette’s door.

He raps gently on the wood. “Marinette?”

“I don’t want to know, Jon!” Marinette’s icy voice cuts into him. This… isn’t the reaction he expects. Especially with Alya as her best friend, he expects her to be asking him for all the details. He expects it’ll change everything, and he hates that it will, but he certainly doesn’t expect that all the kindness and warmth, all the friendliness and cheer, will vanish just like that.

He knows the batarang must have scared her. He deserves her anger, her confusion, her fear. That, he understands. But this? Cold fury, something deep, something hurt, like betrayal. A wall of ice built between them in an instant. He doesn’t understand, he can’t understand, but it hurts him regardless, to hear her voice that way. To hear the pain in her voice. “Marinette? At least let me explain.”

“I said I don’t want to know!” The door swings open, giving Jon a clear view of Marinette’s clenched jaw and white knuckles and her deadly glare. “I don’t care why he was here. I don’t care how you know him. I don’t want to know. Whatever your business is with heroes, I don’t want anything to do with it. Understand? Leave me out of it.”

She slams the door in his face.

Jon has never heard her sound that way before. It’s frightening, but mostly it makes him feel like his world is falling apart. Months of his life, all the normal he’s managed to find, gone. Just like that. With the slam of a door.

Now what?

Marinette won’t talk to him. Jon fixes the hole in the wall and snaps the batarang that caused it in half with his bare hands. He hides the pieces away in his closet where he doesn’t have to look at them. There’s a new towel in their kitchen. At any glance, the apartment is back to normal.

But Marinette won’t talk to him. She treats him like the plague. She comes home late, going straight to her room when she does. If she sticks around in the morning long enough to make coffee or tea, she makes her own cup and leaves. The few times she’s home for dinner, she cooks just for herself and eats in her room.

Life is… normal. He’s still going to class, he’s still living here in New York, his apartment is back to normal. But it doesn’t feel like normal. It feels like hell. It feels like everything he tried to run away from when he left the hero life behind him is kicking him square in the butt over and over again. Every time Marinette’s gaze sweeps over him and continues like he’s not even there, every quiet, quiet evening in when she’s not in the apartment and he doesn’t know if she’s out getting dinner or working late in the library, or… or anything.

It’s almost like she isn’t even there anymore.

Jon leaves a post-it note in the entranceway, right inside the door, before the hallway turns. It says to take off his shoes. He’s not sure if he’s trying to get her attention somehow or if he just misses her getting on his case about it. It works, though. He replaces his shoes with the indoor ones Marinette got for him early on. She doesn’t comment on it.

He can’t focus anymore. When he sits down to study, he just feels this dread hang over him. When he’s in class he just feels out of place. Like he doesn’t belong. It’s frustrating, and it pisses him off, and that only makes it harder to focus on his work.

He tries. He tries so hard. He’s doing everything he can, but he can’t sit still and let that overhanging pain consume him. He can’t stop to look at his notes, because if he does it’ll catch up with him and he can’t handle that. He feels like he’s always on the move, searching for something to do, something to distract him, but at the same time he can feel himself stagnating and it makes him feel dirty and gross and he hates it and he scrubs himself so thoroughly every day but the filth he feels never goes away.

Even being a hero was better than this. But then he listens for that tell-tale shriek he’s been shutting out for so many months and he’s not sure it’s not coming from him because the thought of flying to the rescue, of punching some thief and getting involved in something that’s none of his business makes him nauseous. It makes his heart race and he can’t breathe, and he aches all over, wondering what’s wrong with him.

A small, sensible part of him says, “You were ten. Of course, you’re messed up, now.”

A more cynical part says, “Damian was younger. He’s not having a panic attack because some lady is getting her purse stolen.”

Surprisingly, it’s that same cynical part of him that helpfully counters itself. “Sure, he’s still a hero, but do you really want to call Damian okay?”

Yeah, that’s fair.

This is all his fault, anyway.

Diligently, like clockwork, he works on the schedule that he built over his first semester. He goes to class, and when he gets home, he writes down all his assignments on the whiteboard over his desk. Marinette’s idea. It’s the only reason he made it through the transition to college from high school.

Now, though, he just stares at the assignments there in black ink and stares and stares and wills himself to do them but doesn’t ever actually move. He hates it so much. He’s never been just unable to do things before, but now the farthest he ever gets is pulling the paper out, then all he can do is stare at it until his mind wanders and he ends up clicking through websites like a tiger pacing it’s cage at the zoo. Always moving, always going back and forth, but never doing anything.

When he gets his midterm scores back, Jon decides he can’t do this anymore. If he keeps going at this rate, he’ll lose what grip he does still have on his grades and he won’t have a choice but to go home and back to… back to Superboy.

He can’t go back to Superboy. Whatever else this reprieve of duty has done to him, he just can’t handle that anymore. He knows what he needs. He had a taste of it. Just a tiny, tiny, prototype of it, but he had it. That normalcy. That feeling like he knows what he’s doing, that he’s okay, and that things will work out. He had it and he lost it. And he doesn’t know how to get it back.

“Mom?”

He hears his mom’s gentle sigh over the phone. That familiar, knowing sigh she does when she knows she’s gearing up for something big. “What’s wrong, sweetie?”

Jon explains the situation to her. No details spared. He tells her about Damian showing up, about Marinette seeing him, about her avoiding him and his slipping grades, and about how much going back to being Superboy terrifies him. He tells her how frustrated he is because he had, for just a moment, exactly what he wanted right in his hands and Damian came and knocked it to the floor and shattered it. He tells her how angry he is with Damian. With himself. With how he’s afraid what his dad will think of him if he’s so weak he can’t even save himself, much less be a hero worthy of being the son of Superman. He tells her how alone and stagnant he feels, how evil he feels for turning down Damian in the first place, and he begs her for help.

It’s a long, long, mostly one-sided conversation, punctuated by long periods of nothing but crying, but he tells her everything because he doesn’t have any other route to take.

“Sweetie, if you can’t be Superboy, then you can’t be Superboy.” His mom says. “Your dad and I do feel differently about it, but you remember what he said when you first talked to him about this? Good people help because they can. Honey, you can’t. And that’s okay. Not doing something you can’t do doesn’t make you a bad person. It makes you normal.” And now he’s crying again. “He won’t be upset with you if you don’t go back to being a hero. He just wants you to be happy, same as I do. And it takes a lot more strength to admit when we can’t do something than to kill ourselves trying anyway. I’m proud of you. And he is, too.

“And I’m sorry, I don’t know what to tell you about Marinette. If she doesn’t want to be around you, then… there’s not much you can do but keep trying to be happy without her. I know she’s your friend, but… there’s only so much you can do. If she’s really against it, you might have to say goodbye.”

“I don’t want to.” Jon chokes out. “Mom, she’s my normal.”

“You found normal once. You can do it again.”

Jon frantically scrubs at his eyes, trying to stop the tears. “I… S’pose.” The thought doesn’t make him feel better, but it does make sense.

“And I think you should talk to Damian.”

“I don’t want to see him.” Jon growls.

“Jon, he’s your friend, too. You both woke up Marinette. It was wrong of him to ask you to help with his mission, but don’t blame him for what isn’t entirely his fault.”

There’s a spike in Jon’s heart, and it’s twisted because he knows she’s right.

“Don’t lose two friends over this, Jon.”

God, she’s right. Jon has to go talk to him. He doesn’t want to, but… he has to. Knowing Damian, he probably doesn’t fully understand why Jon’s even mad at him, so he has to. To at least give Damian a chance to understand.

Even if a part of him says good riddance, and that he’s better off without Damian always there to drag him back into the world of heroes.

Alfred answers the door of the manor and barely looks him up and down before telling Jon that Damian is in the batcave. Jon trudges past the old butler, following old paths through the manor he’d memorized a lifetime ago.

Damian catches sight of him the moment he enters and nods his acknowledgement. Jon notes that Tim is here, but he can’t bring himself to care.

It feels weird, walking into the batcave in an old flannel and worn-out jeans. It’s weird to not even have his suit underneath. This place feels so deeply entrenched with Jon’s memory of heroism that he feels out of place as he is. Underdressed, in a way.

“You should be talking to your father about returning to duty.” Damian says. “Hiding here won’t help.”

“I’m not returning to duty.” Jon says tiredly. “I’m here to talk to you.”

Damian pauses. He’s not expressive, per se, but Jon knows him too well. He knows Damian is embarrassed about the incident. Perhaps even… guilty? Jon’s too tired to think too much about it. “Ah. Right. Speak, then.”

Jon takes a deep breath to stamp down on the rage that bubbles up at Damian’s dismissive tone. Like he didn’t do anything wrong. Like he didn’t come by uninvited and… “You ruined my life.” Jon says quietly. “Do you understand that?”

Damian frowns at him. “There’s no need to get dramatic. This Marinette girl may have heard a bit too much, but she’s only one person. This can be solved easily.”

Jon groans. “That’s not what I’m talking about!” He pauses to breathe some more. He refuses to cry in the batcave. Especially not in front of Damian. “I’m not Superboy anymore. I’m not a hero anymore. I quit for a reason, Damian. I quit because I wanted… I just wanted one thing. I wanted something that could make me feel… okay. I can’t be Superboy, because I- because I…” More deep breaths. Stay calm. “Because I’m not okay. And I went to New York, to college, because I thought I could find something normal. I thought I could- I could be me and not have to fight all the time. And I did! I was happy! I felt safe, and I felt like I could- like I could- I felt like things would be okay.

“And then you came in. Now Marinette won’t talk to me. I’m all alone and I’m only getting worse, but every time I think about going back to being Superboy I panic because I can’t- I can’t fight like that again. I just… physically… I…” He sighs and focuses on his breathing again. “I thought I could be happy. But now that’s ruined.”

Jon notes that Damian stops looking at him somewhere along the line, but all he hears is Damian’s flippant retort. “You’ll get over her. Just because you love this girl doesn’t mean her not liking you is the end of the world.”

That’s where Jon sees red. He stalks up and grabs Damian by the collar, half-surprised that Damian lets him, but not hesitating to lift Damian into the air. “Don’t talk about her like that! You don’t understand anything! Don’t trivialize this like that! It’s not about love, Damian! I’m not in love with her! She was my normal! She was- She was…” Jon chokes on his own words and drops Damian so he can turn away and focus on keeping his tears from slipping free. “You don’t get it. I don’t know why I came here. I’m just going to- I’m going to go.”

“Wait, Jon.” Jon stops, turning back to look at Damian. Damian sighs, though it comes out as more of a huff. “I’m sorry.” He says. “I… I didn’t know why you quit, and I assumed… I shouldn’t have, and I apologize.”

It’s not much, but it’s an apology. It doesn’t fix anything, but it does make Jon feel just a little less broken. “Thanks.” Jon says quietly. “I’m sorry, too. I was yelling, too. It’s not entirely your fault she woke up.”

Damian just nods stiffly in acknowledgement, still refusing to meet Jon’s eye. “Would you… like help reconciling with Marinette? Perhaps if I-”

“God, no. For Christ’s sake, please don’t even step foot in New York.” Jon says it more biting than he means, but that doesn’t seem to bother Damian much. “Marinette doesn’t want anything to do with heroes. Quite frankly, I don’t disagree. If you come in trying to fix everything, it’ll only get worse.”

“…I understand. If you do need my assistance, I will be available for you.”

Jon stares at him for a while, wondering how he feels about that. He’s still resentful, a bit, but Damian is trying. He’s a far cry from that bratty thirteen-year-old that dragged little ten-year-old Jon around on wacky, life-threatening adventures. Jon supposes he’s pretty different now himself, too.

“Thanks, Damian. I appreciate that.”

-------=-------

Tag List: @moonystars14 @pawsitivelymiraculous @magic-miraculous @vixen-uchiha @buticaaba @bigpicklebananatree @lozzybowe @moonlightstar64 @amayakans <3

#miraculous ladybug fanfiction #ml x dc #ml fanfiction #maribat #marijon #ehhtrtd

64 notes · View notes