#now granted the author did have some serious faults | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

its-actually-minicika · 1 year

Note

so, feel free totally ignore this if it makes you feel uncomfortable, but I can't stop thinking about a jace x reader fic where reader is sort of dealing with the aftermath of the battle of the gullet.

her and jacerys were involved romantically and when he dies, reader goes berserk and out for blood with the greens: she gets captured eventually and is left to rot in a cell in harrenhall or something, where she talks smack to aemond and reminisces about her time spent with jace...

idk maybe she breaks out and aemond falls in love with her in a reverse-stockholmly way?? it's more like he becomes obsessed and starts taunting her with Vhagar like he did with luke.

or maybe she ends up dying in the cell from exhaustion and all her untreated wounds (because there's no way canon book aemond would ever help the lover of an enemy lmao) and meets jace again in their weird version of westerosi heaven

idk i just need them both so bad lol

The Harshest Winters (!18+!)

Pairing(s): Jacaerys x Reader, somewhat implied Aemond x Reader ??? it's just really fucked up, man;

Warnings: major character death, strong language, mentions of SA, some spoilers for Fire&Blood, book canon Aemond, blood and gore, psychological horror, manipulation, manhandling, mentions and descriptions of sex;

Author's Note: whiew, this was definitely something! Thank you so much for the request, Nonny - I loved diving into this one :") I hope that this is to your liking!!

Part 2 is out now!

She was sentenced to forever remember him by name only - Jacaerys' face would dim with time across her memory, leaving only a distant face in the back of her mind.

As she rots in the coldest pits of Harrenhal, (Y/N) remembers him, day after day and night after night.

"Promise me you'll come back alive." The girl hushed into the quiet war room. Her eyes scanned over the firelit table, traveling to Jace's sprawled out hands and broad form.

His eyes lit up. Brilliant brown hues, filled with so much love for her. His calloused fingers, still trailing over the waters of the Steptstones, that versed well into the Gullet.

"I promise." Jacaerys spoke to her, tone serious and somewhat strained. "My love..." He mused at the notice of her furrowed brows, and took three wide steps towards her.

As his hands reached for her, she leaned into his warm touch, so palpable and real.

The two hugged for what felt like an eternity. The Prince of Dragonstone kissed the crown of her head tenderly, his heart beating in a calming tune, that could have once lulled the woman into the deepest of sleeps.

"You've never lied to me before." She sniffed into his wide chest, pressing herself against him with renowed ferocity. "Do not let this be the first time."

Jace only smiled and cupped her jaw soothingly.

The nights without him were the toughest.

(Y/N) was irritated, on the verge of frenezy - the ghosts of her past played cruel jokes on her health of mind, making her see red before her - his face, whenever she closed her eyes to sleep.

In the three weeks that she spent in the prison cell, after having been captured and enslaved by Aemond, not once had she seen his face apart from their first fated meeting.

How stupid she was, drawing her sword to him, engaging him in a field of falling men.

How could she not see his flock of Green Loyalists, who suddenly came behind her back?

The heavy wound in her lower abdomen and the numbness of her left foot were all her fault. The puss that was dripping from her daft fingers, as well.

At least she had beat the shivers, she told herself insistently. But how long will it be, until she meets the Stranger due to her horrid wounds?

Left all alone, trapped well within those four walls of damp stone, the girl could do nothing but mumble and think to herself:

Aemond Targaryen had fought bravely, she had to at least give him that. Although she too would have had balls of steel atop a dragon - and one not even close to Vhagar's size.

He had granted her the courtesy of letting her die in the pains of cold and hunger - flesh eaten away by the ghastly infection, rotting to a point that had one's stomach churn and wail.

A small tear rolled from her shut eyes, and her jaw clenched tight - no one would come to rescue her, and it was clear as day that even the soldiers who came to guard her cell at night stopped bothering to show up. Perhaps the reek of death proved to be too much for them.

Perhaps they preferred to sit outside, and bask themselves in the fine light and smell of putrid ash.

Perhaps.

Slowly, yet surely, (Y/N) tried to sit up straight, but a blinding pain sent her right on her exposed back again. She hissed from the pressure that her inexperienced bandage applied on her closing wound, but relentlessly tired to get up again and again.

Eventually, she stilled as she got up on her right foot, and leaned into the wall for help in supporting her raw weight.

"Fucking shit, fucking assholes, fucking Greens, nasty cock-suckers, fucking die...!" She sobbed into the breached wall, gripping the stone edges with all her might and heaving out one pained breath after the other.

"I didn't know I was keeping a whore alive, in the stead of a respected Lady." A croaky, albeit mellow voice rang out.

(Y/N) could feel her knee wobble in fear.

She bit her tongue in an attempt to stop her snarl, and steadied herself with her hands still clinging to the wall.

"Kinslayer." She spoke in a brittle voice, and cursed herself for the undeniable softness that was laced in her tone - she was far too weakened to talk to him. And much less to fight once more.

Aemond's nostrils flared, in a weird concucsion of both anger and grief. His jaw tightened as his hand curled into a fist.

"Traitor." He grates out in retaliation, but lets a bemused expression to curl up his lips. His face narrows, and a flicker, a spark of fury dances in his remaining eye.

"You grace me with your presence, Prince Aemond. You really shouldn't have." (Y/N)'s eyes trail to the sword that rests upon his hip, and she can feel her blood turn cold once his feet carry him so awfully close to her defenseless form.

Her chest rises and falls in pent up frustration. Even if she tried to, she couldn't kill him now. But maybe she could gouge out his good eye.

Before her thoughts can come to a close, Aemond cruelly smirks to himself, and unsheats his sword to lower it to (Y/N)'s face. "It's a pity. You've never been a beauty, but now you're rendered to almost completely useless." He tuts lightly, turning her face with each languid movement of his sharp blade.

"I had in mind to let my men fuck you." He remarks dryly, but lets out a disappointed sigh. "But I don't think any of them would get it up to your whorish face."

His words startle the woman, and her eyes widen in disgust, as her throat tightens in and over itself.

"No... A look so wild and a grisly body such as this are better suited for dogs than men."

(Y/N) is shaking with fear and rage alike. She takes in a deep breath, and closes her eyes to listen.

He's bluffing. This is a test. This is a challenge. And either way, he has a sword. He could cut you up in a thousand little red ribbons of flesh if you uttered the wrong word.

The girl repeats the same mantra in her head, and swallows thickly. Soon, very soon he will get bored of taunting her.

But why? Why, why come now? Why pay her a visit after weeks of captivity?

He wants you to do something for him, in exchange for fresh air and a clean set of clothes, a small voice inside her head whispers to her.

Aemond hums wistfully and brings a hand to play with her house's crest, that rests atop her caved chest in a twisted necklace.

"You are Elmo Tully's only daughter." He asserts calmly, and reaches to twirl around her darkened strands of hair. "The Lord of Riverrun pledged his banners to that withered cunt because of you."

His eyebrows raised in mock surprise, and his sword came to a halt below her jaw. Attentively, he grazed her skin with the hilt of it, paying attention not to break in a single cut.

"But now... there's no reason for them to fight on her side, is it? You're ours to spare or kill, and your bastard lover boy is rotting in the sea."

His words sparked a fire inside the girl's soul. Without thinking, she took a step forward, and gripped her hand atop his over the hilt of the sword. In just a second, her free hand had found a way to his pale face.

The aftermath of the loud slap echoed throughout the dark room, and Aemond grabbed the lady by the hair, bringing her to her knees with a strong, downward pull.

"I will put a muzzle on you if you don't behave, tie you down and feed you to Vhagar, but not before I berate you in front of everyone still alive from the Twins to Harrenhal."

A small whimper escapes her lips, and the One Eyed prince gives her one last harsh tug, before freeing her dirty locks.

"Look at the mess you've made." He chastises with a click of his tongue, bringing his grimy hand to her face again. "You dirty fucking whore, I should make you lick me clean."

His furious stare melts into an amused one, and Aemond the Kinslayer laughs.

"I bet you would love that, wouldn't you?" He cooed while glancing down at her, forcing a finger into her resisting mouth. "You've been Jacaerys' slut for so long, haven't you? Wouldn't you like to be fucked by a real man, too?"

Aggravated by his running mouth and exherted by all her remaining patience, (Y/N) bit down on his fingers, hard, drawing a metallic taste in her mouth and a guttural groan from Aemond.

"I thank you for your gentle offer. But I heard you're already busy enough with that - fucking a bastard of your own in the darkness of these cursed halls."

The Targaryen prince clasped her by the arms tightly, pulling the girl up on her feet and snarling in her face.

"For that, I will give you your brothers' heads."

"Mayhaps they will give me yours."

Aemond's hands would leave her bruised. Of that much, she was certain.

Another permanent reminder of his abuse on her, she mused, letting out a pained sigh.

She grazed the bottom of her lower lip, immersed in deep thought.

Aemond wouldn't kill her. At least, not until the last of her purpose ran up. He might have had Harrenhal secured, but that meant little to his usurper brother and the capital, especially when the Reach provided them with no other allies.

Aegon's cause needed her. They desperately needed her alive, to strike up a deal with her sickly grandfather, and convert both houses Frey and Tully to their side.

Family.

Duty.

Honour.

Her grandfather would do anything to ensure her safety - that much was, again, for certain.

And if Aemond wanted to win this thing, he wouldn't touch a single hair on her delicate head - he couldn't afford to set off the Riverlords.

Having said that, (Y/N) wasn't surprised when the maesters came flooding in, or when her clothes were changed and her bed replaced.

What did surprise her were Aemond's visits - after their initial clash, he came by her cell more and more often.

Sometimes he would speak to her. Ask her about the gravity of her wounds, if she found the lack of light scary. If any soldier made to guard her had talked to her or made her uncomfortable.

Those were what (Y/N) grew to call his "good days".

Most of the time, Aemond would come to her well into the dead of night, scaring her and making her lose sleep for days at a time.

He would apologize with a small quirk of his head, and simply stare at her. Stare for what felt like hours, until he would hum, satisfied, and make his leave.

It was during one of those latter visits that (Y/N) finally spoke:

"Has my grandfather turned his banners? Did he send any lease for me?"

Her question, although innocent enough, angered Aemond. He rose to his feet, eyes wide in ire, and he punched the wall of the prison cell - hard.

"From this day onward, you'll sleep in a chamber more fit for a Lady." He hoarsely muttered over his shoulder, as he made his way up the twisted set of stairs. "Soldiers will escort you tonight. Tomorrow, a maid will bathe you."

Although hid from her field of vision, the Tully girl heard how his footsteps came to a halt. The One Eyed Prince clasped his fists painfully, and gritted lowly:

"If you try to escape, you'll meet your end by the way of my blade, My Lady."

The night Lady Tully stepped outside of her prison cell was supposed to be one of the happiest of her entire life.

At the very least, the girl found the night sky to be of a comforting beauty - and the lack of sunrays would be good for her eyes, that got so used to the engulfing darkness of the Dungeons.

Still, she couldn't wait to see the sun.

... Her contentment was short lived - as soon as the smell of ash and blood had hit her nose, the girl almost collapsed.

No matter where she looked, she saw only the bites of fire. Where it spread - over the fertile lands she loved so well -, it left dust and cinder in it's wake.

Her home was ruined.

The fields she used to play in... gone.

The grief and anger replaced the sadness and despair. (Y/N) felt herself shake to the core, and, as she was dragged to the highest tower in the Harrenhal Keep, she swore to kill Aemond for what he'd done.

Yet, a much merrier resolve was going on back and forth in Aemond's chamber, who, after his interaction with (Y/N), was left very wanting and more than frustrated.

Alys was writhing beneath him, mewling in pleasure at his rough touch and merciless pace. Her dark hair was sprawled all over the goose feather pillows, covering her face and lustful stare.

"Mmhh, faster... faster!" She urged him with a breathless moan, moving her hips in unison with his, meeting his thrusts half-way.

Aemond groaned, holding her firmly by the nape of her neck, and closing his lilac eye tightly. His loins were begging for release - a release that was coming very hard to him.

Thoughts that disassociated him from what was happening at present surged through his mind: what he would have to do tomorrow, where he would have to take Vhagar.

Did (Y/N) reach her room yet?

The latter of them sent a pleasant shiver down his spine - with renewed vigour, Aemond pounded into the woman under him. He had found the lead towards his release, and he was not about to let it go.

Images of (y/h/c) replace the dark whisks of hair on Alys' head - her soft skin, her beautiful (y/e/c).

(Y/N), (Y/N), (Y/N)...

His member twitches urgently inside of Alys, and Aemond continues to defile the Tully girl in his mind, imagining how her face would twist in pleasure as he slowly entered her.

He would be gentle. So, so gentle - he would make her into a babbling mess, so numb from bliss, that her legs would shake around him. He could be selfless with her, find his high only after he was satisfied with the orgasms he pulled from her.

Aemond moaned loudly once he felt Alys tighten around him, and soon spilled out his seed, panting wildly.

Finally, he opened up his eye, and felt the disgust and dissatisfaction that came after his mind-blowing release.

How could he, the Prince Protector of the Realm, think of his nephiew's lover during sex? That ugly, headstrong and frogish looking girl - making the Crown Prince lose his mind in want and lust.

Shit.

He had to see her.

He had to touch her.

He had to have her.

He craved to feel her - even if she were to slap him as she did months ago; he would take anything she gave him. And he would enjoy it tremendously.

Aemond sighed, still planted deep above Alys - he peeled himself from her lean arms, and rolled his shirt back and over his head. Next were his trousers, shoes and leather tunic.

"Where are you going, my love...?" Alys whispered, pressing her naked body on his working back.

Aemond hums expectantly, and turns his body to trap the woman in between the cold wall and his budging arms. He brings his hand out to caress her skin, toying with one of her breasts, until he pushes her roughly against the wall and pulls her by the hair.

"I told you not to call me that" He muses coldly, letting go of the fistful he grabbed mere seconds ago. "We talked about our arrangement, Alys." He tuts lightly, grazing her jaw with his long index finger.

Aemond sighs and lets go of the caged woman, as he straightens his back and begins walking towards the door.

"I want you on the bed, with your legs spread waiting for me. I won't be too long."

Curse Aemond and his meticulosity, the young lady chastised inside her head. The tower in which she was supposed to spend the rest of the war - or however long Aemond wished her to, really - was at the highest level possible. There was no way for her to jump out the window and survive the fall.

But, should there be a need for it... death by falling wasn't the worst of fates. If you managed to break your neck, that is.

A shuddering thought, (Y/N) scorned herself, and not one she could afford at the moment.

Jacaerys was dead - and part of her would be lost with him forever. Above all else, she wanted to feel his soft kiss again, his strong arms protecting her, his gentle caress that never failed to give her butterflies.

One day, she would find him again. One day, they'll reunite, and be back together - as the Gods intended to.

But that day was still far away.

She prayed her grandfather hadn't turned his banners against Rhaenyra's cause. She hoped that her family was safe, and that Riverrun didn't suffer the same fate the fields near Harrenhall had.

Jacaerys was dead. But above all else, she had to stay alive. Fulfil his wish, take care of both their families, until she could allow herself to rest.

Her shaky hand reached for her eyes. She had been crying.

The dirt on her cheeks must have washed away, leaving streaks of her paling skin to poke behind.

She would avenge him. She would avenge them all. Even if that was the last thing she ever did.

The brisk opening of her chamber door made the girl jump in place and turn rapidly on her heel.

Behind the oak aperture, a head of shoulder-lenght silver hair could be seen, followed by a pair of untrusting violet eyes.

"Didn't your mother teach you never to enter a lady's room without knocking first?"

The reprimantion left her lips before (Y/N) could catch herself.

She had to remember that no matter how much Aemond needed her, he was still quick to anger - a true prince of the Blood of the Dragon. Brazen, relentless, cruel.

She was a first daughter, yes. But a third child, coming after two strong boys, that hence secured the Tully line from before she was even born.

He was a man. She was a weakened woman. They were near a window at a plenty ample height, and even she had heard what happened to Queen Helaena.

His footsteps approached her slowly, like a predator would it's prey. It took everything inside the girl to stay put in place, fighting his empty stare with her own.

"It's cold outside." Is all Aemond said, before he strutted towards the open window and closed it back up again.

A myrriad of questions were on her mind. But 'Why are you here?' was replaying the most.

Her back was turned on Aemond. (Y/N) was frozen in place and, although she knew how dangerous it was not to look at him, she feared that a singular look of the man who played a part in killing the love of her life would be far too much.

Seconds turned to minutes. And minutes felt like they were turning to hours.

Before long, Aemond let out a low hum and grabbed a piece of her modest gown with two of his fingers.

"I'll have a nightgown be made for you tomorrow." The Targaryen prince concluded, gingerly letting go of her sleeve.

Without another word, he turned his body stiffly, and walked towards the doors that separated her from the outside world. As they closed and clicked with the turning of a key, the girl let out a relieved sigh, and quickly glanced upon the floor.

"Fuck you, you fucking piece of shit, you Gods' damned fucking asshole." She hissed in utter resentment, snarling at the place the one eyed prince once stood.

At least the promise of the morrow could bring forth a better day.

If she ever wanted freedom, she had to make Aemond trust her. But that was easier said than done. And it would take time.

So far, he had taken her outside twice - both times, during nighttime. To not be seen by anyone, and to be able to walk with the Prince without being perturbed or interrupted by keen eyes and weary mouths.

They walked in silence: neither knowledgeable enough in the other to know what to converse about.

And as they made their third and final round of the garden, the girl took in a deep breath, and whisked her skirts gently to one side.

Aemond, like all the other nights before that, escorted her himself back to her secluded chambers, but stopped abruptly at her door.

"Where is your bretheren?" Aemond demanded to the knight assigned to watch over (Y/N) coldly.

His body stiffened momentarily, until a muffled voice could be heard past his helmet. "He went outside to take a piss." Sensing Aemond's stillness at his words, he added hurriedly, "Your Grace."

Unconvinced, yet unwilling to press the matter further, Aemond hummed, and opened the door, to allow the woman to step inside.

Like all the other nights before that, he stepped inside as well, to stare at her and later leave himself to rest in his own right.

(Y/N)'s hands were tightened in fists, and the woman strutted to her bed to play with the silk bedding.

"Thank you for bringing me here. You're... so very kind." She forced herself to say the words that left such a bitter taste in her parted mouth.

For a while, Aemond seemed stunned. He felt his jaw clench in anticipation for her next words. His eyes trailed over her, mesmerised by her tempting form, so meek and small and perfect.

Had she always been so beautiful?

"Hmm." He purrs from deep inside his throat, unable to form any other sentence. His lilac orb being glossed over with something akin to fear and lust - how could such a lowly girl spark such a consuming feeling within him?

The tightness inside his trousers becomes unbearable, and Aemond can feel his palms gripping over his thighs.

"Well..." (Y/N) finally turns to face him, biting her inner cheek. "G... Good night, Prince Aemond."

He takes in a sudden breath, and has to restrain everything inside him not to walk towards her and take her over the mattress.

But she was still a Lady. And he had to be patient. There will be more than enough time for that, he told himself pleasingly.

Still, his cock twitched into the confining space, and the girl had to stop herself from gagging at the sight.

Men were really just mindless beasts, after all. Yet she had to at least be thankful - she now knew for certain she wasn't indifferent to him. There were worse things to be working with than lust.

Lust was better than ire. Lust was better than... nothing.

"Good night, Lady (Y/N)." Aemond's groggy voice echoed through the empty room.

Seemingly satisfied with what he told her, the Targaryen Prince shot her body one last hungry gaze, before leaving to hold her under lock and key.

A minute, maybe two pass, until the girl's body can relax into the soft bed. Her eyes go over the ceiling, and she starts recounting her steps.

A sudden click of armour alerts her of what is going on outside - she shifts and turns, eyes fully on the door.

Had Aemond come to her again?

Dread seeped into her veins. Had he come to rape her? Use her? Or perhaps he grew tired of playing host, and was ready to kill her.

Not sparing another second, she swiftly jumped back on her feet, and reached for a candle holder, clasping it tightly within her hand.

Her breathing accelerated, until... the shining helmet of the knight outside greeted her tentatively, instead of the terrifying white hair she'd grown accustomed to.

"My Lady!" He breathed out, relieved, and hurriedly showed her his face.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and hot drops of tears suddenly threatened to escape them.

"Ser... Ser Cain? Is that really you?"

"Aye, my Lady, in the flesh." He remarked happily, closing the door, before (Y/N) surprised him by running towards her sworn protector, with an embrace that could shatter stone.

"I thought you dead after the battle at Tumbletown...!" She hushed into his chest, swaying him from side to side.

"It should take them more than usurping bastards to kill me!" Cain Waters assured her. His body pulled away from hers, and he spoke back in a more serious tone. "I'm here on order of your father. I'll take you to a safe place. But we must leave now."

"How...?" The girl questioned hopelessly, "The Kinslayer is ruthless, and he keeps a close watch on every corner of the keep at all times."

"Not all the time." Cain offered her a reassuring squeeze, smirking slightly. "I have reason to believe he's occupied in his chambers right now."

His attitude turns somber, and he reveals a hood tucked in his breastplate. "Wear this, my Lady. I'll keep guard outside until you're ready - but be quick about it. We'll have plenty of time to talk after we're out of this horrid place."

(Y/N) didn't need to be told that twice - she made great haste dressing up, and, before she could realise it, she was running down the stairs with her heart hammering out of her chest.

She felt as though she was in a trance. Ser Cain knew the castle like the back of his hand - no doubt, her father had been planning her escape for a very long time -, and, by the will of the Gods, the two traveled unspotted to the burnt forest behind the Gates of Harrenhall.

"Our horses are tied here." Cain huffed at the heaviness of his armour. "My Lady, give me your hand."

He mounted the woman on a tiny black horse, and secured her belts in place. He then turned to his own mare, and ensured to tie their bridles together. Before long, both horses broke into a dizzying gallop.

Thus (Y/N) Tully and Cain Waters managed to get lost into the night, right from under Aemond's nose.

The rays of sunlight shone over Aemond's bare form, still entangled with the one of Alys Rivers.

His limbs felt heavy - though none of match to the uneasiness he felt in his heart.

Wordlessly, he peeled himself off the warm body that laid next to him, and dressed up to pay his cherished captive a morning visit.

His dull footsteps bounced in the echo of the war keep, as Aemond's marching came to an abrupt end.

Nothing looked out of the ordinary.

Nothing, save to say for the unguarded door to the girl's chamber.

His blood ran cold, and his hand jerked open the entry to her resting place, only to find it... empty.

There is a scream from deep within that forces it's way from out of his chest. An anger so blinding, that it threatened to burn and extinguish any and all who would dare come his way.

Anger isn't a good look an anyone. But on Aemond One Eye, it looked downright terrifying.

A punch is thrown on the nearest wall to his trembling form. Then another. And another. And another.

Vhagar's mighty roar all but breaks the sky in two - and those who lived to tell the tale swore it echoed throughout all the Seven Kingdoms.

An exaggeration, no doubt, though not the most far fetched one in their bloody story.

The tearing skin of his knuckles lets a numbing feeling wash over Aemond. With his eyes upon the rattled fields, he lets out a low chuckle.

"I'll find her. I'll find her if I have to burn down all of the Riverlands."

They say that everytime a Targaryen is born, the Gods flip a coin.

#jacaerys strong #jacaerys valaryon #jacaerys x reader #yandere aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #aemond fanfiction #aemond imagine #dark aemond #this one is really fucked up lolz #the harshest winters

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maseshine · 2 years

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: you being the ex-girlfriend who still keeps in touch with your friends and him thinking you're an obsessive ex.

𝐭𝐨𝐩𝐢𝐜𝐬: angst, mention of accident, hospital

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: angst

𝐚/𝐧: i'm open to requests! i write using a dash and my first language is not English!

𝗲𝘅, part² || mason mount

Accident. Hospital. Serious condition.

These three words circulated through Mason’s mind as he stared at the white wall of the hospital. Your heart rate’s racing like a battery. His legs and hands trembled and if he were not sitting he was almost sure he would not stand up.

Y/N had an accident as soon as he left Christian’s house, the whole party mood had died when his cell phone had touched, his happiness vanishing from his face in a matter of seconds, the fear overflowing from his eyes as he ran to the garage. Just stopping to shout that you suffered a car crash and the name of the hospital you were out for!

Everything around Mason stopped when the news was picked up by his brain, not long before he was in his own car driving towards the hospital.

His last words to him echoing in his mind. And from today I will take care not to cross his path. Fate’s crap couldn’t be so son of a bitch as to do it, it wasn’t fair, it wasn’t right. Not with you!

And now he was sitting on a hard hospital bench drowning in guilt, while you fought for your life in some surgery of this huge hospital.

━ It’s my fault, all my fault. ━ Mason whispered as he held his head between his hands.

━ Hey, man. It wasn’t your fault. The driver was drunk, Mason. ━ Ben tried to comfort him, but he wouldn’t accept it.

━ No, I made her leave the party. I was a complete jerk to her, Ben. I offended her in the worst way possible, it’s my fault, mine. Furthermore, I’ll never forgive myself if anything happens to her, ever.

Ben sighed as he watched his friend’s condition. It was common knowledge in Chelsea’s group that Mason was still in love with Y/N. And to this day none of them understood why it had ended between them. Mason never said them, and apparently didn’t intend to make such a confession.

━ Y/N is a strong girl, man. She’s going to be okay! When did you see her give up something? In a couple of days, it’ll be nothing but a fright. Nobody blames you for anything, the only mistake was the drunk driver who ran the light when he shouldn’t have. ━ James spoke, sitting next to his friend.

━ You don’t understand. ━ Mason said no. ━ I fucked everything up, I offended her character and her nature, Sarah put so many things in my head and with the jealousy I was feeling she made me do and talk nonsense, and I know that it hurt her a lot, I saw the tears in her eyes before she left, How can this not be my fault? ━ Mason’s voice was choked, his friends exchanging looks at each other without knowing what to say.

━ Why did you break up with her if you still clearly love her? ━ Christian spoke after so long in silence.

━ Because I acted like an insecure fucking idiot. I saw how close you guys were, it got in my head and a lot of thoughts were spinning, Sarah was feeding most of them and I fell like an idiot. She wanted to continue the friendship, but I couldn’t, I can’t believe after today she’ll want to see me again. ━ The loss in Mason’s voice was a surprise to the three friends, who had never seen him like this before.

━ As soon as it’s all over, talk to her, Mason. You put everything on the table, you love this girl with everything on you, don’t lose her because of your unfounded insecurities. Just talk to her. ━ Christian spoke with a firm and serious voice.

Mason said nothing, but his head rested on the wall as he closed his eyes, begging for everything to work out and for nothing bad to happen to you. He would never forgive himself.

×××

━ Sorry sir, but your authorization was not granted, the patient does not have you on the list of released people. I’m sorry. ━ The kind receptionist informs him for the fourth time this week.

A tired sigh escapes from Mason’s lips, it was obvious you didn’t want to see him, but he was never one to give up easy, so during the days you would still have in the hospital he would come to see you, even if it didn’t go beyond the hospital reception.

━ Just like yesterday, can you do me a favour and deliver these flowers to her room? ━ Mason asked softly, the kind lady smiling at him as he picked the flowers. ━ Thank you very much.

━ She’s a lucky girl, you know. Give her time, darling, and soon, everything between you is going to be fine. ━ Mason just nodded as he walked away.

He deserved it, he knew it. But even though the pain was too much, he was the only one among the boys who wasn’t allowed to visit you and all he knew about you was for the boys and the kind receptionist who helped him. Otherwise, you were living as if you’d never met.

Taking one last look at the hospital, Mason walked up to his car, leaving the area. What he didn’t know was that in the window of one of the rooms, curious eyes stared at him as hands held the beautiful white roses that had been left behind, the natural scent making the whole room more aromatic.

#mason mount imagines #football #chelsea fc #london #football imagine #premier league #footballer #masterlist #imagine #soccer player #love #mason mount imagine #mason x reader #mason mount #hospital #angst #accident

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inkedtae · 1 year

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Hello Bee, I came here to VENT! Or otherwise, I will lash out my anger at someone or cry myself for weeks. SO, I have been interning at a cancer research laboratory as a 3rd-year student without getting whatsoever for NINE MONTHS. I could be paid at the beginning, but my professor made a stupid mistake and missed the grant deadline, so I was not paid. He said a forced out sorry and never talked about it ever again. I said it will be fine and decided to do a voluntary internship even though I needed the money. I budgeted the hell out and let my parent cover most of my expenses which I HATE! AND when he had the chance to find me a sponsor, he choose to pay another intern, whom he thought was more "hard-working". Professor talked about how great he was to his colleages during lunch break, he kept mentioning that that intern was the best. That intern came to the hospital for like 3 DAYS, and we never saw him again. He was being paid even though he did ZERO work, and I did fucking everything: every fucking experiment!!! I did fucking paperwork even though I didn't have to. I did the cleaning, I called the doctors, and insurance people, and I called the fucking FedEx when one of our kits was lost. I took the bus and the train to get our package from across the city so that we could move on with the experiments quickly. I FUCKing did dishes for people!!! I walked between blocks for thousands of times to make sure our samples were taken care of. I stayed at the lab overnight to make sure every thing ran smoothly. I re-did a month of work when one our facilities had a major incident where all of our samples were ruined. I did all of these because I loved our research, and I wanted my professor to see I was hardworking too. AND he fuuuckiing saw it every day that I put in effort that even he didn't. So I expected that I would get the next grant. Unfortunately, I didn't. This time it was nobody's fault—fine— but at least SOMEONE could apologise and thank me. Not surprisingly, all I got was "it is not my fault this time". Our project lasted around 10 months, which I was a part of for 9 months of it without getting zero money. This month��19 fucking days—, I had some serious medical issues, so I had to work from home. A few days ago, my professor said he submitted our research paper to fairly good journal. I thought I was finally getting my prize. I wasn't paid money, but a research article that has my name would be awesome. HAH! He said that there was a limit to number of author he could submit. He had to give priorities to some people, and my name wasn't on the paper…. I am utterly hurt, I feel so betrayed and stupid. I feel used. This research was everything I wanted to do and now I seriously want to drop out. The worse thing is I am bounded to this laboratory more than ever because I have to write my dissertation to graduate. I absolutely despise everything and I don't want to do anything. Sooo :)))):):):):):):)::).)) So my plan is to binge read RAC and hope that my sweet Taedaddy could fuck this stress out of my body with his 9inch cock.

Hi Anon!

First, I want to thank you for opening up and ranting about this. You are welcome to do so anytime! I’m happy to be here for you! I am also just so so sorry. I am fuming right now! I don’t even know what to say— like I reread this four times and I’m still in complete confusion and shock. I mean I totally understand and believe it all considering I too am a poc and a woman and have been cheated out of opportunities too but I have never experienced something so fucking frustrating, heartbreaking and disappointing. This just breaks my heart.

There must be something we can do. Have you tried talking to the head of your department about this and explaining everything? You deserve the recognition at the very least! I understand they have their processes with the whole grant stuff and there might not be any leeway there but to not even credit you? You have sacrificed so much and put all your time and effort into this project. And it’s so obvious that he was discriminating against you because you’re a poc woman, like there has to be someone we can talk to about this.

I don’t want to pressure you or force you into a situation you don’t want to be in. Trust me, I know how hard it can be to try to stand up for yourself because some racist white man is conning you out of everything you’ve worked for, granted you are far more dedicated to your work than I was and I am in no way try to take from that. I just know that the process of doing what’s right by you can be difficult. At times, I have regretted saying anything and bringing stuff like this to someone’s attention but girl you literally put your blood sweat and tears into this. You deserve to be paid and you deserve to have your name on there. He clearly has a pattern and habit of negligence when it comes to poc women since he MISSED YOUR DEADLINE (which omg I’m literally about to strangle that man) and then proceeded to direct all recognition and attention and opportunities to a man who was not as dedicated or experienced as you are. How is he gonna chest you out of your money, make you work insanely hard and then get another man there who only shows up three times and praises him for it like what the actual fuck. Clearly he has poor judgement of character and should not be in a position where he can abuse his power. You deserve your justice and I’m so sorry there’s nothing I can do to help you. All I can do is be here for you and suggest you try to talk to someone about this. At the very least it will be on record that he has a history of doing this and karma will do the rest. And you never know, if he’s doing this to you, he maybe did it to others and this might be the last straw and he’ll get fired! Maybe that’s just wishful thinking on my part.

You know what? Gimme his name! I’ll take care of this for you! 😐🔪

#the masked #letters

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mourning-again-in-america · 1 year

Text

banger from gorsuch in a case over aggravated identity theft in gov't health care fraud:

MR. SURI: …Second, I acknowledge, yes, it is possible that when it's a small amount, we could still prosecute. But we'd have hurdles thatwe'd have to overcome when it's a small amount.It's going to be harder to convince a jury of fraudulent intent when the amount is extremely small. I take, however, the point of the question -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: Counsel, it seems to me you've just given up the ghost and -- and clarified things substantially that every time anyone overbills for anything, that triggers this statute, and all you have to prove -- now it may be small, as the amounts here were, $338, or it might be rounding up, a lawyer rounding up his hours to the next tenth of an hour, but that is still identity theft because you are using somebody's identity in a way that is unlawful and perhaps arguably exceeds their permission. If that's true, where do we stand in terms of federalism, given that (a)(7) speaks in much the same language and would seem to federalize pretty much every state misrepresentation claim? Where do we stand in terms of vagueness, notice to the world, fair notice to the world? I'm not sure most waiters in America appreciate that they're committing identity theft when they bill for that bottle of wine. ...

JUSTICE GORSUCH: Well, okay. Suppose we did read them the same way. Then you would concede there would be a federalism problem? MR. SURI: No, I wouldn't concede that because there's also a jurisdictional element in 1028(a)(7). That's contained in 1028(c). And that jurisdictional element ensures that every prosecution is within -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: How? MR. SURI: -- the federal government's authority. It has a list of elements that must be satisfied in order for an (a)(7) prosecution to be brought. And I grant one of them is affects commerce, but -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: Yeah. So, if he runs the credit card and it goes across state lines, good to go? MR. SURI: But this Court has held that -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: Can't you concede that's a serious federal -- federalism problem if we were to read those terms the same way? MR. SURI: No, because this Court has held that that's within the scope of the Commerce Clause. So it's not a federalism -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: Every fraud in America is within the scope of the Commerce Clause, counsel? MR. SURI: If that's a problem, Justice Gorsuch, it's attributable to the Court's Commerce Clause cases and not to this -- (Laughter.) JUSTICE GORSUCH: Okay. All right. It's our -- it's our fault. Fine. How about the -- how about the vagueness problem then? MR. SURI: I -- I -- I -- might I finish explaining why -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: Well, move on to the vagueness problem. MR. SURI: Yes. JUSTICE GORSUCH: You know, what about the vagueness problem? What notice does this provide to people in the world that they're committing a federal felony? MR. SURI: Again, Justice Gorsuch, you can avoid that problem by reading "in connection with" -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: I understand that. Put that aside. I asked you to put that aside, counsel. Please do so. MR. SURI: Yes. JUSTICE GORSUCH: Answer my question about vagueness. MR. SURI: The Court's vagueness precedents are concerned with ensuring that law-abiding people aren't trapped into being prosecuted for a violation that they couldn't have anticipated. And that problem doesn't arise with respect to either of these statutes because these statutes apply only if an individual has committed a predicate crime in the first place. So -- JUSTICE GORSUCH: Well, we -- we know, though, that the law has to provide notice not just that you committed some crime; it has to provide notice to the bad man that there are more consequences for worse crimes. And I don't doubt that the waiter who overbills for that bottle of wine knows he's committed some sort of state misdemeanor or maybe even felony, but does he know that he's committed a federal offense too? MR. SURI: The way he would know is by reading that statute and by looking at the elements and finding that his conduct fits within the most natural reading of those elements.

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mostlynotwork · 2 years

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A catchy title. A fun premise. Some striking cover art. ‘Mage Against the Machine’ is pitched as a kind of Harry Potter vs Terminator crossover. Just be aware - there’s a lot of character and world building to get through before you get to the serious wizard v war machine action.

But first some context.

‘Mage Against the Machine’ was one of three books I picked up on vacation a few months before the start of the COVID pandemic. While the other two books I read not long after buying them (Good Omens and Ashoka), Mage Against the Machine became the novel that I would pick up and put down repeatedly throughout the pandemic. This isn’t necessarily a reflection on the novel. As I pointed out in another post, the pandemic fundamentally changed the way I spent my time. However it’s context you should be aware of when you’re weighing up my reflections on the book.

The premise

Fantasy meets sci-fi is a pretty good hook for getting me into a story. I loved the technomages in Babylon 5, and was hoping for something similar here. While the magical realm and dystopian Earth eventually collide, it’s a long journey to get there. The novel spends a LOT of time on building up the characters and their respective worlds. However rather than having the reader follow a trail of clues to uncover the true connection between them, much of the explanation simply gets dumped on the reader through exposition from secondary characters.

Now granted, what’s covered in that exposition could itself form an entire novel. But it still felt less satisfying than piecing it together. ‘Your mileage may vary’ as to whether you’ll find this as frustrating as I did.

The characters

The three main protagonists are (1) Nikolai - a wizard, (2) Jem - a human ‘runner’ for the resistance, and (3) Armitage - one of the ‘Synth’ AIs that now control the earth. The story alternates between telling the separate stories of Nik and Jem, until such time as the two are brought together. As such we learn about them directly. By contrast, we learn about the character of Armitage through their interactions with Jem, and to a lesser extent Nik. While this creates mystery around Armitage’s true motives and behaviour, it also means we can only judge Armitage on the basis of evidence from the other two flawed protagonists. If we do get more books in this series, I hope we get a proper telling of the story from the perspective of the AI.

The ‘not really an ending’

Leaving sufficient loose ends to write a follow-up novel is clearly a thing that authors’ have an incentive to do. But a hundred pages out from the end of this book I commented to Rainbow (one of my partners) that there was no way we were going to get a proper conclusion to this story in the pages left in the book.

Sure enough, that was the case.

The novel could have proceeded from that point to its dramatic finale without introducing any new mysteries. There were enough loose ends and unresolved “ what if’s” by that point to provide the basis for more books set in this world - either sequels or prequels. Instead it felt like new twists were inserted as an unsubtle signal to the reader that ‘there will be more’ . Which ironically there still hasn’t been.

Who will enjoy this?

OK, I’ve picked fault in the storytelling, characters and finale. I’ve probably given the impression this is a terrible book. It’s not. It just didn’t live up to the expectations I had given how promising the concept was. And as I mentioned before, I’m cautious about panning the novel too much because I read it in blocks over a couple of years. Fans of YA fiction who want to explore a post-apocalyptic world with a difference may still enjoy this book. But given the length of my book backlog, if a sequel is released, it won’t be getting moved to the front of the queue.

#bookbacklog #mage against the machine #shaurn barger #ai #magic

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ramblingguy54 · 2 years

Note

Now that Sasha has been confirmed to have divorced parents, Marcy isn’t the only member of the trio who has digimon tamers parallels. Sasha seems pretty similar to Rika in that regard, both being children of divorce who developed toxic behaviors because of it(granted rikas attitude and actions were worse than even Sasha’s, given how she went out of her way to kill digimon, but still)

I'd say Sasha & Rika are neck and neck taking their questionable moral actions into account, quite frankly.

Rika & Sasha do share similar a mindset too looking at the way they try to dodge taking accountability at first for why they were content hurting other living things as an okay thing to do. Granted, I will agree Sasha never did go on a killing spree, like Rika did with Renamon in trying to achieve digivolution. However, she still did try to have the Plantars killed in Season 1's finale, Reunion. Rika had a lot more to answer for on a moral level, which is why the Ice Devimon episode is horrifyingly a fitting punishment to open the stubborn kid's eyes to the reality of what she was doing, overall.

"Digimon are nothing more than data."

"They're just slimy little frogs, Anne! They don't matter!"

A big reason why I consider Sasha to be on equal footing with Rika are the events of True Colors. Sasha was going to rule over Amphibia with an iron fist, which is something Rika never went that far in wanting to accomplish, murdering Digimon aside for selfish reasons. If Sasha were to succeed in that invasion plan, she would've had anyone in Amphibia, who dared to oppose her authority, greatly punished. I mean, not on the level of murdering massacre mind you, but still throw them into Newtopia's prison cells. Not to mention, Sasha's malicious and egotistical reasons are a big part of why Andrias regained control and put everyone in terrible danger, which isn't to say it was all her fault because it is more complicated than solely that. Where Sasha seriously dropped the ball in was her need for control to always be on top of a power pyramid.

Rika did show a kind of "heartless" behavior for the Digimon she had Renamon annihilate. She certainly isn't without her own serious baggage Rika needed to own up toward admitting about. Although, one thing she never did was play a part with inadvertently endangering two different realities because of a desperate need to stay on top as some sort of leader.

Real talk, I'm loving how the similarities Amphibia & Tamers are growing from what the first half of season three has shown us, thus far. It’ll likely only continue to get bigger, once the last half of episodes are released some time next year.

#cinematic parallels right here #amphibia #amphibia spoilers #digimon tamers #sasha waybright #digimon tamers rika #two kids trying to cope in negative manners from divorced parents #amphibia season 3 #froggy little christmas

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asthmark · 4 years

Text

❝ stuck ❞ l.dh

request → “Hi~ I'm absolutely in love with your work. It makes me so soft uwu. I was wondering if you could write a Haechan one similar to the roommate Jeno one you wrote. About what it's like to just live with him” —@demiwizardstay

pairing → demon!haechan, reader, guardianangel!mark

word count → 4.5k

a/n → whoops i made this into a demon!haechan au hahaha sorry i hope this is domestic enough for u tho :D

your eyes must be playing tricks on you.

there’s no other reasonable explanation.

on the other hand, the shadow splayed out ever so comfortably on your couch seems to be very real. it must be just as aware of your presence as you are of its but to your surprise, it isn’t telling you to put your hands where it can see them or demanding to know where all your most valuable items are. it sits there, peacefully as if it owns the place. for a split second you consider the possibility that you walked into the wrong apartment but the key in your hand reminds you that the situation you are in is not your fault in any way.

“so... are you gonna scream or just stand there?”

the figure’s voice is unmistakably masculine and drips with sass. you know you should feel scared. your heart should be pounding as your shaky fingers dial 911 and you hysterically report an intruder to the authorities and beg them to come fast. however, it seems that this stranger’s calm aura has rubbed off on you as you respond with an equally as unbothered tone.

“well, i would appreciate it if you invited me in.” you pause. “oh wait, it’s my apartment.”

with that, you step inside and go about your regular routine with a calmness you didn’t know you possessed; especially when there was an… unwelcome visitor lounging on your sofa. despite that, you kick off your shoes and toss your jacket somewhere on the floor like you normally would. you twirl your keys around your fingers as you go to turn to flick on the light switch. it rids you of the darkness that had settled upon your apartment and the stranger is completely revealed to you.

the first thing you notice about them is their sun kissed skin that’s littered in the freckles you would compare to the most captivating constellation. although, the stranger’s flawless complexion is the least of your worries considering the two horns that peek out from underneath their tufts of brunette hair.

you physically restrain yourself from asking for his skin routine and instead opt for yet another sarcastic comment. “all ready for halloween, i see.” your eyes lock onto the appendages, choosing to ignore how realistic they were. “was party city having a sale?”

your comment seems to get your uninvited guest out of his daze as he scoffs. “are you kidding?”

“hey, this is my place, i ask the questions,” you scold.

he ignores you, instead going to tug on his horns. “these are all real, baby.”

you force yourself to maintain eye contact with him, waiting for him burst into laughter and tell you it was all a prank. instead, his unfaltering smug gaze pierces into you. you swear you stop breathing when his eyes flash bright red for a second.

“alright, you can tell the camera crew to come on out.” you glance around hoping this really was just some sort of hidden camera–practical joke type of thing. you half expect ashton kutcher jump out and tell you that you had gotten punk'd but you’re never granted that privilege. your eyes end up back on the boy lounging on your sofa and he returns the stare, eyes narrowed and mouth curved into a smirk.

it was almost… devilish.

“oh my god.”

“not quite.” he finally stands, stretching his limbs out without a care in the world. “wanna try again?”

you stay silent, mouth slightly agape. there was only one other explanation.

he’s satan. and he’s also in your living room. and the worst part was how undeniably hot he is.

you regret giving him the satisfaction of your stunned silence as it seems like that was the exact reaction he wanted. he laughs at your expression and it just sounds evil.

“alright, alright. i’ll tell you what i am. but only because you mortals are always so cute when you’re scared.”

“i’m not scared, you idiot,” you interject without a second thought. “i just didn’t know i’d be selling my soul today. it’s a total bummer. i’m so young, i still have so much to do. i never even got around to trying yoga with ryujin!”

the boy’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. “your soul? did i say i wanted your soul?”

“well, you’re like, satan right? isn’t that what you do?”

he rolls his eyes. “i’m obviously a demon. satan is a loser who never leaves his fiery throne. which, by the way, isn’t as cool as it sounds. we’re not on the best terms at the moment.”

“so... you don’t want my soul?”

he shakes his head vigorously, looking disgusted at the mere idea of it. “what would i even do with it?”

“i don’t know. honestly i’m just going off of what i see in the movies.”

“that was your first mistake, baby.” he makes his way closer to you. “this isn’t the movies.”

“okay, back it up,” you say, attempting to put some distance between you and him.

he raises his hands in defeat as he obeys, retreating back to your couch.

“why are you here of all places? shouldn’t you be sipping on a piña colada with satan right now?”

he crosses his legs nonchalantly. “like i said, we aren’t on speaking terms. in fact, i’m kind of… banned.”

“banned?” you echo. “from where?”

“hell? duh.”

you scowl at his attitude. “it’s not my fault you’re on timeout.”

he pinches the bridge of his nose in frustration. “don’t call it that. it’s just a punishment.”

“same thing,” you say, making your way into the kitchen. you weren’t sure if leaving a demon unattended in your living room was the best idea but the initial shock had already worn off. besides, it seemed like he had been in your apartment for a while already. “what did you do anyway?”

“it’s not even that bad,” he grumbles.

“must have been if you got kicked out of hell.” you chuckle to yourself as you open up your pantry, looking for something to stuff your face with. “do you understand how bad you must be if even the devil himself can’t stand you?”

“i’m not bad, per se,” he says, picking at his nails. “just a little annoying.”

“no kidding,” you grumble to yourself, rummaging through your pantry, in pursuit of your favorite snack. you were sure everything would make more sense once you got some food in your system. when all you find is an empty, crumpled bag where your chips had once been, you whine loudly. “did you eat all my hot cheetos?”

“they reminded me of home!”

“i can see why they kicked you out,” you retort.

“listen, i get that this is an inconvenience—”

“that’s kind of an understatement.”

“but, this is the only place i can stay. turns out people freak out when you appear in their living rooms. you were the only one that didn’t.”

“yeah, people usually don’t take too kindly to that—hold on, did you say stay?”

he crosses his arms over his chest. “where else am i supposed to go?”

“anywhere but here.”

he gives you an unamused stare, his eyes glinting red once again.

“i mean, don’t you have any demon friends you can stay with?”

“not here. we avoid earth at all costs. it’s trashy. that’s why this is a punishment.”

not even you can argue with that. “understandable. well, how long are you gonna be here?”

“don’t know.”

you blink at him. “so… you’re planning to crash with me until satan decides to be your friend again?”

he groans. “first of all, he’s never been my friend. second of all, yes, that was the plan i had in mind when i broke into your house.”

“broke in?”

“well, actually i used teleportation powered by the dark arts to get in but i don’t think your tiny human brain is ready for that conversation.”

“and i don’t think it’d be in your best interest to insult the person you’re currently trying to move in with.”

that seems to shut him up, as he purses his lips together and stares at you blankly.

“listen, if we’re going to do this, there’s gotta be some ground rules, okay?”

he stays silent so you decide to continue.

“you have to pull your own weight around here. you might be some powerful being of the underworld but that doesn’t mean you get out of laundry day and doing dishes, got it?”

he seems displeased, if the frustrated huff of air he lets out is anything to go by.

“and you have to promise me that by staying here you aren’t putting me in any kind of danger.”

“well, i can’t guarantee i won’t cause problems,” he says, raking his fingers through the hair in between his sharpened horns. “but i can protect you from whatever crap comes our way.”

you contemplate it. you weren’t entirely sure what a demon like him was capable of but it seemed like it would be a list that was equally lengthy as it was impressive. yet, you still can’t bring yourself to agree to anything.

as if he senses your apprehensive nature, he grabs your chin, forcing you to look into his hazelnut eyes. you only get to admire the warm tint for a split second before his eyes flash red yet again. they stay glowing longer than any of the previous times; long enough for you to notice how shiny and bright they are, reminding you of ripe cherries.

“i promise.”

the tone of his voice is surprisingly firm and definitely the most serious you’ve heard him the entire night. he retreats his hand from you and you find yourself leaning forward, almost craving his touch. his eyes go back to their original hue and you feel yourself regain your senses.

“what did you just do?” you ask, leaning back from him. “what kind of dark magic was that?”

he tries to conceal his smile but ultimately fails, his pearly whites coming onto display. “that wasn’t magic, baby. i believe you just got lost in my eyes but don’t worry. i would too.”

you let out a bitter laugh. “oh my god, you’re vain.”

“do you mortals have to mention him every five seconds?” he chides, grimacing.

it takes you a moment to realize who he’s referring to but when you do, you erupt in laughter. “really? that gets to you? you’re pretty sensitive for a big and bad demon.”

“i have a name, baby.”

“so do i.”

his lips curve into a coy smile. “donghyuck.”

you give him your name in response, not even bothering to think about it twice, much to your surprise. most would probably be more hesitant to introduce themself to a demon, much less invite them into their home.

yet here you were, doing both.

he offers you nothing more than a grin—it seemed more genuine than the last—before turning on his heel to make his way farther into your apartment. “so, where will i be sleeping? i was thinking your bed would be ideal.”

“well, i was thinking you could start with a thank you,” you suggest, trailing after him.

he saunters down the hallway, twisting the knob of the door second to the left and peeking in. you can only imagine how much snooping around he had done before you had arrived, judging by the fact that he maneuvered your home so expertly.

he hums as he scans the room as if it’s the first time (which you’re sure it’s not). “it looks comfortable enough for the two of us.”

you can tell there’s no arguing with him, especially as he steps inside and sits himself on the edge of your bed, hands running over the soft fabric of your comforter. he bounces up and down a couple times, seeming satisfied enough with the mattress.

in the blink of an eye, he’s underneath the heaps of blankets, tucked in snuggly.

you exhale, trying to maintain patience. “i can tell this whole dark magic thing is going to be a problem for me.”

even though only his eyes peek out from beneath the polyester sheets, you’re positive he’s wearing an obnoxious smirk. his voice comes out slightly muffled when he answers, “think of it as a blessing, not a curse.”

“we’ll see.” you try to suppress a yawn but it manages to escape you, eyes squinting and your hand clamping over your mouth. “right now, i gotta sleep. hopefully i’ll wake up tomorrow and realize this was all a dream.”

“so, what you’re implying is that i’m a dream?”

“i meant to say nightmare.”

“that’s more accurate.”

as if the dazed tone of his voice didn’t give his sleepiness away, donghyuck’s drowsy eyes and horns sinking into the soft plush of your pillow certainly did. he looked the least threatening right then and there and you decide that this is the donghyuck you like best. you can’t help the sudden urge you feel to curl up in bed right next to him and doze off into blissful unconsciousness.

“what are you waiting for? get in here.”

could demons read minds too? you can’t be bothered to think about it for another second before you take donghyuck’s very tempting offer and crawl into your bed. you don’t care that you’re not in your pajamas or that you smell like coffee beans, courtesy of the cafe you worked at.

all you can seem to focus on is the feeling of donghyuck’s soft breath against your neck and his oddly cute snores. it was ironic; a demon all cuddled up beside you, sleeping like a baby. you almost giggle at the striking comparison.

needless to say, you fall asleep with a smile on your face.

“you know, it really pisses me off to come home and see you sitting in the exact same position you were in when i left.”

donghyuck rolls his eyes, an expression he’s mastered over time. “what else am i supposed to do? you made it pretty clear that you hate my demonic rituals and that’s kind of my speciality.”

you shrug as you kick your shoes off upon entering your shared apartment. “i don’t know. but binging the entire marvel movie saga can’t possibly be healthy.”

“we don’t have this in hell!” donghyuck exclaims, gesturing to the television his eyes remained glued on.

“well, you should get used to life on earth considering you don’t know how long you’re gonna be stuck here.”

“i’m already on it. pop culture is actually really informative.”

“not what i meant. i was thinking more along the lines of a job.”

donghyuck finally tears his eyes away from the television to give you an unamused stare. “that’s really funny, y/n.”

“i’m serious! would it kill you to get off the sofa?”

“no. nothing would. i’m immortal, remember?”

you narrow your eyes. “oh yeah, almost forgot. you’re gonna be a bother to me forever and ever.”

“this isn’t the ideal situation for me either. but no need to torture me with low life mortal tasks.”

“bills gotta be paid, it’s a part of life,” you respond, taking a seat beside him. “or else we’ll both be breaking into people’s houses and begging them to move in.”

“i didn’t beg, alright? and i didn’t break in either! i simply... appeared.”

“that’s even worse.”

“you didn’t seem to mind when you were all snuggled into me this morning.”

donghyuck’s words paired with his taunting tone cause you to feel slightly warm but you ignore it for the sake of a comeback. “you seemed comfortable yourself because when my alarm for work went off your arm was pretty tight around me.”

you swear you see him pout for a moment. “that’s not my fault! there aren’t many people open to cuddling in hell! i was just… seizing the opportunity.”

“since you’re all about opportunities, you should really look into that job. remember what we agreed on? no slacking off.”

“i’m not! just look in the kitchen!”

you know whatever it is, you’re not prepared for it. nevertheless, you tiptoe to said area, hoping your roommate had simply followed instructions and done the dishes and swept. but, of course, that itself is too much to ask as you watch the sink overflow with suds, plates and silverware scrubbing themselves clean and floating into their respective cupboards. a broom dances across the tiled floor, dust flying everywhere. you find that the mess in your kitchen resembles a train wreck; you want to look away but you just can’t.

you call out to donghyuck, eyes still trained on the chaos before you, asking, “what did we say about rituals?”

“it’s a little more complicated than a ritual, baby!”

once you finally gather enough willpower to walk away from the kitchen and whatever is happening in it, you return to the living room, placing yourself in front of the television that donghyuck is so entranced in.

“you’re coming with me to work tomorrow, got it?”

donghyuck groans for a second before rolling his eyes dramatically hard. “fine. now, can you move? the avengers are about to fight thanos.”

you comply, retreating to your bedroom but not before shouting back, “iron man dies!”

you shut your door, donghyuck’s frustrated screeching still coming through loud and clear.

your phone alerts you that it’s 6 am by playing an alarm so loud donghyuck falls out of bed. comically enough, it’s the loud thump! that comes when donghyuck makes contact with the floor that really gets your eyes to flutter open. you peek over the edge of the bed, every bit of grogginess leaving your body the second you see your roommate tangled in your sheets, limbs sprawled on the ground.

“are you okay?” you ask, laughter lacing your words.

“doing just fine,” he mumbles in response. soon thereafter, his eyes shut once again.

“hey! no way are you going back to sleep, we have work!”

you drag yourself out of bed over to where donghyuck lays, attempting to resume his peaceful slumber. you grab his arms, attempting to hoist him up. you’re almost positive he’s making it more difficult than it should be as he lets his body go completely limp in your grasp. when you finally get him standing upright, he smiles lazily at you, obviously still half asleep.

“c’mon dork, you need to get ready. you’re gonna make some cash today!”

donghyuck makes it clear he understands nothing as the morning progresses.

he doesn’t get the importance of being on time or even working in the first place. he offers to just take out your landlord, which according to him will “solve all your problems”, more times than you count and you’re sure that if he mentions it one more time you’d actually consider it. he also claims he doesn’t understand the concept of a shower, asking you to help him out, yet the knowing smile on his face lets you know he’s more than well aware of what it entails. unfortunately, you realize this after spending more time than you’d care to admit explaining the concept of getting naked to him in a tight, confined space to him only for him to request a demonstration.

upon leaving your apartment, more new things are revealed to donghyuck. you can’t help but admire the wonder and awe in his eyes. the adoration quickly wears off when he throws a temper tantrum at the subway station, refusing to board it and you have to physically force him on and promise that no, he won’t get trapped inside.

despite the slight bumps in the road, you arrive at your shift with time to spare. the clock tells you that you won’t have to be behind the counter for another five minutes so you grab your apron and provide donghyuck with one too. you give him quite possibly the quickest tour of the cafe ever and explain to him over five times what you were there to do (“so, we just take people’s orders? we serve them?” “and they pay for it.” “just when i thought it couldn’t possibly get dumber”). you end putting him on cleaning duty since you were well aware of his lack of social skills. he frowns when you tell him he has to do it himself, no magic allowed. the last thing you needed was someone getting nearly knocked over by a levitating broom and bringing it to your manager’s attention. speaking of—

“good morning, y/n,” greets doyoung. his hair is slicked back and his eyes shine, as always. “always a pleasure to see you on your shift.”

donghyuck watches you cautiously, observing the way you smile nervously and avoid meeting doyoung’s eyes. he assumes he has some kind of authority over you.

“and hello there. who might you be?”

doyoung is now very aware of donghyuck’s presence, giving him a wide smile but a menacing stare. you don’t get a word out before donghyuck’s giving him a polite smile and nod of his head.

“i was just hired, y/n is showing me the ins and outs. i honestly could not be happier working under leaders like you, sir.”

doyoung hums, obviously enjoying donghyuck’s praise enough to let it blind him from the fact that you hadn’t even been hiring in the first place. “sir, huh? haven’t heard that one before.”

donghyuck holds his breath, wondering if he had overdone it.

“i like it. you seem like a hard working fellow. glad to have you on the team.” your boss gives him a firm pat on the back before walking away, probably to go scare some other employees.

donghyuck sticks his tongue out at him once his back is turned and you simply laugh, smile still present on your face when your first customer arrives.

“i’m here!”

you glance up from the cash register to catch your coworker rushing in, looking frazzled… as always.

“hey mark,” you greet, giving him a welcoming smile. “i’m so glad you’re here. there’s been this crazy demand for frappuccinos all day and you know i suck at those.”

mark chuckles as he ties on his apron. “no offense, but the only order you should be taking are the puppuccinos.”

you shoot him the most non-threatening glare possible which ends up with you bursting into a fit of laughter. “i’m not even gonna argue with that.”

“hypothetically, if i made doyoung’s coffee explode on him but made sure he didn’t know, would you be mad?”

you roll your eyes at donghyuck’s bold entrance yet you still giggle. “at this point, i say go for it. ooh, maybe we could even sneak out while he’s cleaning it up. what do you say, mark?”

where there would usually be a giddy laugh, there’s nothing but silence on your coworkers behalf. you put a pause on counting the money in the register to steal a glance at mark who’s eyes are dead set on donghyuck who also seems to be intensely focused on the blonde.

“demon,” mark mutters.

you feel yourself freeze up; how could he possibly know? despite the panic that settles upon you, you’re sure donghyuck will find a way to handle the situation. you expect a lie, maybe even some magic if the situation called for it. when you see his lips curve upwards sinisterly, you know you’re in for an entirely different outcome.

“angel.” there’s a teasing lilt in donghyuck’s voice; it sends chills up your spine.

mark’s jaw is clenched and you know he’s equally as tense as you are. “we should go, y/n.”

“mark, he’s just—”

“now.”

the sudden desperation yet dominance in mark’s tone is even more alarming than donghyuck’s.

“you know,” donghyuck begins, rounding the counter, dramatically. “i’ve never been a fan of the way guardian angels think they own their person.”

you swear your brain shuts down. there was no way you had come into contact with a demon and now an angel—your guardian angel. and there was definitely no way it was your closest coworker, right?

“it’s our responsibility—she is my responsibility.”

donghyuck folds his arms as he gives mark a once over. “you won’t mind if i take over, right?”

mark chuckles, begrudgingly. “you know i can’t let that happen.”

“i’m not hurting her, i’d never hurt her.” donghyuck takes his place next to you, wrapping an arm around you. he peers down at you, eyes glowing red for the first time since your first encounter. “my angel.”

you know the nickname is to piss mark off and you assume it works as you observe his hands clench into fists. although, you’re more focused on how the pet name effortlessly rolled off donghyuck’s tongue, like temptation itself.

“don’t make this difficult for yourself,” donghyuck continues. “you know feelings are dangerous. that’s what they tell you when you first sign up. just don’t let that get you into trouble, got it?”

the tension is suffocating and you almost wish a customer would enter the currently empty cafe to save you from it. although, donghyuck makes sure that you don’t have to endure it any longer as a second later, you’re both gone, only a cloud of red smoke left behind.

mark stands alone in the cafe.

he had gotten this job for you; to look after you.

perhaps he had caught feelings, as well.

he assumes that was his first mistake.

when donghyuck takes you back to your apartment, it seems the awkward atmosphere from the cafe has followed you home.

“uh, can i ask what that was all about?”

“that guy, mark was it? yeah, he’s your guardian angel. i can’t stand it when those guys act like they’re in charge of the person they’re sent to look after,” he seethes.

you watch donghyuck’s fit of frustration carefully, eyes wide. when he sees how confused you are he can’t help but sigh.

“i’m sorry, i just… didn’t appreciate him acting like you were his. guess i don’t really like the thought of that.”

you would have to be oblivious beyond compare to not realize donghyuck was completely and utterly jealous. you prod him further, asking, “well, then who would you rather i belong to?”

he glances up at you. “whoever you want, baby.”

“you know what? i think i have somebody in mind.”

not even a second later, donghyuck takes you back in the security of your bed, under your piles of fluffy blankets. what feels most comfortable (and strangely familiar) is the feeling of donghyuck’s arm clinging to you, making you sure you’re pressed right into his chest like a puzzle piece.

“the person you had in mind was me, right? ’cause if not, this might be awkward.”

your eyes roll back despite knowing he can’t see it. “no, it was mark.”

“not funny.”

your shoulders shake with laughter. “it’s a little funny.”

“whatever, keep laughing. just let me hold you, alright?”

“that would be heaven.” silence settles upon the both of you as you go into nearly hysterical laughter. “get it? because you’re a demon… from hell… and that’s like, the opposite—”

“yeah, i get it, baby.” he pauses. “how many more lame jokes surrounding me being a demon will i have to endure?”

“i definitely have more where that came from so my guess is... more than you can count.”

he moans in displeasure. “you’re lucky you’re cute… for a mortal.”

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cardentist · 3 years

Text

I know this is Beyond late to the party, it’s been years since I first started simmering on it, but I was reminded of it a bit ago and I think it’s gonna chew a hole in my brain if I don’t find a way to do something with it

the broadway version of be more chill is an adaptation of an adaptation, the rework of the script and the music and the differences in performance choice gives it a Very different tone despite largely being the same story on paper. and this isn’t necessarily a bad thing ! I’d say it’s mostly a give and take, with some things working better and some things working worse between versions and your mileage with both mostly being down to taste.

I loved the passion that clearly went into it, I was interested in the new way the dynamics played off of each other, and I was drawn into the new additions to the score and how it explored and expanded upon a different side of jeremy. I was waiting for the new version to grow on me, to give me the same inspiration that the new jersey production gave me (or rather, a different flavor that I could treasure just as much), and it just. never happened.

I’ve sat on this for a Very long time, I want to like the broadway version, I was Happy to see it given another chance. but my problem isn’t with the music or even with it being Different, my problem is that I think they fundamentally changed the protagonist Without changing the story around him, which creates problems with how the story comes across and sits with you.

the new jersey version worked, for me, because jeremy was fundamentally a good person before the squip influenced him, and he never really stopped being that person. he’d hurt people and he made mistakes, but when you see him make up with christine and michael by the end you’re left with the impression that they’re already set on the path to a healthy relationship with each other. they have things to work on, conversations that need to be had, but you can Believe in the happy ending that it wants you to buy into.

and part of this is achieved by leaving things up to the imagination, by keeping jeremy Simple but implying more by presenting him as a real person. jeremy doesn’t Want to be popular he wants to be happy, but he trusts the authority figure that tells him that it knows what’s best for him more than he does. it’s this level of innocence that makes him genuinely likeable despite what he ends up doing.

the broadway version sought to explore jeremy in more depth, to explore the feelings of self hatred and isolation, the themes of depression and anxiety, in more explicit terms, they complicated jeremy heere. this isn’t in itself a bad thing, I really like “loser geek whatever” as a song, but it shifted the balance in what made the ending work. a moment that used to be jeremy asserting to the audience that he’s never Wanted to be important, that he never wanted popularity or fame, but that he’s giving in to the lead of something else because he’s been convinced that it’s what’ll make him happy is now a ballad that asserts that it’s what jeremy thinks he Deserves.

don’t get me wrong, this new version of jeremy isn’t an inherently bad person, he isn’t even necessarily a fundamentally Different person. they’re both steeped in self hatred and isolation, broadway jeremy Is new jersey jeremy at his core, but broadway jeremy has pointed that inward turmoil Outward. he thinks of himself as the problem, that there’s something wrong with him and always has been, but at the same time he’s actively trying to convince himself that he wants what the squip is offering him because he’s Owed it.

this isn’t a problem on its own, I really vibe with “loser geek or whatever,” it has some Very poignant lines that gel with what jeremy’s always been even with the shift happening with his mindset here, but it’s unfortunately not a change that exists in a vacuum.

I could pick apart the whole musical and lay out all of the differences, but the change that’s prevented me from being able to enjoy the broadway version is “the pitiful children,” on a musical level but most importantly on a story and characterization level.

jeremy’s change in mindset in the broadway version Very Unfortunately leans into the entitled nerd boy trope, which didn’t necessarily have to detract from it (in my opinion, the charm of be more chill in general is how its characters are all tropes presented as real people, who are likeable because of how Human they are. you slowly grow into them the more you realize this), but the pitiful children just shifts jeremy Too Far into that trope in a way that the story never really recovers from.

the original version was the squip’s villain song where he took jeremy pointing out flaws with his actions (letting people get hurt despite having been able to help them and meddling in jeremy’s life in a way that made his relationships Worse) and convinced him that the problem was other people’s free will. he did this not by appealing to jeremy’s own desires, but by presenting other people the way that the squip had been presenting jeremy to Himself this entire time.

jeremy is a character that hates himself, that was so eager to find a way to “get better” because he sees everything that’s happened to him as being tied to some inherent flaw with who he is. the squip took this and reinforced it, convinced jeremy that he’s completely worthless without him, all while presenting himself as a savior figure to jeremy that was going to “fix” him. the pitiful children is the squip insisting that all people are like that, that all people are fundamentally broken and unhappy but that they can be Saved. jeremy going along with the squip here is presented as being tied to both his own self hatred And his desire to help people. the squip took advantage of his Kindness and that colors our interpretation of him as a person.

the broadway version of this scene is, a shell. it’s a mistake. in some ways it’s built on that same basis, it exists On Top Of what it used to be, but it paints jeremy completely differently. it is, quite literally, jeremy putting christine’s agency under his own desires. Now instead of the squip playing at jeremy’s self hatred, it’s convincing jeremy that christine doesn’t want to date him because there’s something wrong with Her Specifically, and the rest of the school is just kind of tacked onto it. it’s jeremy choosing his own desire to date christine Over her freewill while pushing everyone else’s fate to the side (when he knows that they’re Also going to get zombiefied in the process).

it’s a weaker villain song in general, the storybeat of convincing someone that humanity is fundamentally flawed but can be “fixed” is far more chilling than convincing someone that the girl they like is fundamentally flawed because they won’t date them. but it also just changes jeremy’s relationship to christine in a way that can Never be addressed because Jeremy’s the only character that knows it happened and it’s never a conversation that they have together.

it’s even worse in the live version (as opposed to the cast recording) because jeremy is an Active role in the broadway version when he’d had a passive role in the original. in the new jersey version jenna approaches jeremy, opening up about her own unhappiness after he asks her how she feels, the squip tells him that he can help her and Then jeremy gives her a squip. jeremy Watches her immediately become more lively and happy, with her joining the song and dance to convince him that this is the right thing. in the broadway performance jeremy approaches Her, he offers her a squip of his own accord and he brushes her off after she opens up to him in response. it’s no longer a beat reinforcing that the squip is taking advantage of his kindness, but him Openly Dismissing someone else’s suffering while he’s focused on getting what he wants. he’s dancing and singing along with the squip.

both versions of jeremy were manipulated, both versions of jeremy were stripped of their agency, but only one of them had a true villain arc. but their endings are the same. broadway jeremy isn’t an unsalvageable person, he Can grow and get better and I do think that he’s in the right direction for it. but he and christine are Not ready for a relationship, he’s Not at an ending point for his character growth. he did choose her agency in the end, but the fact that it was ever a question for him makes the saccharine tone of the ending feel Wrong in a way that I’ve never been able to move on from.

broadway jeremy was complicated in a way that made him less likeable as a person but the Ending wasn’t made to accommodate this. the big flashy showdown Worked in the original Because it never convinced us that jeremy wasn’t a kind person. he needed a wake up call and time to heal, broadway jeremy needs therapy. (granted, new jersey jeremy Also needs therapy for the Definite ptsd that he has, but that’s a separate issue).

the broadway version opens a conversation that it wasn’t interested in closing, they left their happy storybook ending for a story that Needed a serious confrontation that challenged their protagonist not just on the fact that they were Wrong but on the fundamental flaws with how they treated and thought of other people. it wasn’t necessarily jeremy’s Fault but he needed more solid character growth than what he was given and it’s a weaker story for it.

I think if the pitiful children had been left largely the same I might’ve been able to grow to like the broadway version and all of its differences, but it’s just the Weaker version as is and it Needed to push the changes harder than it did if it was really committed to this change in direction.

#be more chill #bmc #jeremy heere #jeremy bmc #broadway #meta #long post #king of writing essays that only I care about

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jensungf · 4 years

Text

𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐑𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑 ∞ 𝐩.𝐣𝐬

summary: park jisung was supposed to be more than a passing cloud, than a fleeting moment.

pairing: reader + park jisung ft. childhood friend!mark genre: high school!au, angst, fluff, some comedy too cus dreamies are funny af word count: 7.7k warnings: language, mentions of nausea

author’s note: i’m super happy to announce that i hit my first follower milestone!! thank you to the 100+ precious people who decided to follow my horrid blog, i really appreciate each and everyone one of you and i hope you enjoy this story to celebrate!

this is a sequel to my story passing clouds so please check that out first before you read this.

Jisung felt sick to his stomach. Like the time Donghyuck had somehow managed to convince him, or more so, drag him against his will onto that horrid Viking ride that day they went to the theme park together. Jisung had clutched onto the bars for dear life, and he could’ve sworn that his stomach flipped-flopped inside out and back again, with his life flashing before his eyes, all while his friends laughed at his misery. But now, along with the deja vu in the form of nausea churning in his stomach; he felt as if his chest was being constricted from the unbearable weight of guilt that was consuming his body. The gloomy skies thundered outside, as if the heavens above were laughing at his misery. As if they were chanting a mantra, reminding him that he fucked up as his head replayed the words you had sobbed just mere moments ago. He should’ve known it was a bad idea then — yet only after facing the pit in his stomach and the echoes of your cries did he know how ditching you was in fact, an irreversible mistake that might’ve cost him more than just his friendship with you.

He clenched his fists, knuckles turning white from the iron-grip on his phone as his arms fell limply to his side. What had he done?

Jaemin spoke first, as the boys all quieted down from their gaming soon after witnessing the conversation. “What the hell did you do, Jisung?”

Jisung winced. Jaemin rarely swore around him, much less directly at him. He knew he fucked up, and his friends could see the defeat in his eyes. The tension in the air thickened as Jisung’s mouth parched, unable to find the right words that could give a single reasonable explanation as to why he chose to do what he did.

“I fucked up,” he croaked plainly, running his hand hurriedly through his hair. “I hurt (Y/N).”

Jaemin’s hand balled up as he narrowed his eyes. He cared for you a lot — all the boys did. They loved you like their own sister. Jaemin’s expression softened at the sight of the youngest’s agony but he remained stern. “What did you do, Jisung?”

“(Y/N) and I.. we were supposed to go to the movies together today. But I never showed up.” Jisung’s knees felt like giving out. “I didn’t think she would actually be that upset that I didn’t show up! I-I thought she would just call someone else to watch it with her, or something. I didn’t she would blow up at me...”

“How could you not expect her to blow up at you when you literally stood her up?” Jaemin furrowed his eyebrows in disbelief. Jisung bit his lip in reluctance and the other boys frowned. Jisung was usually rational, and thought about his actions before he did anything. They didn’t understand what had led him to do this.

“Why did you flake on her?” Renjun asked quietly. Jisung averted his eyes, looking down at the floor. “I don’t know. I just felt like it.”

Donghyuck scoffed, “That’s such bullshit and you know it.”

Chenle’s frown deepened. Seeing his closest friend trying to deflect the truth was so unusual. He tried to piece it together, hitting the nail on the head with a simple question.

“Don’t you like her?”

Jisung’s heart twisted into knots. “What? O-Of course I do, she’s my friend.”

“No, of course you like her Jisung, we all do. I’m asking if you like her.”

A pause hung in the air as they all patiently waited for his answer (despite the obvious.)

“Y-Yeah. I do. I like her so much, guys. And I freaking messed up.” He confessed, choking up as tears prickled his eyes. “I was scared. We planned this last week while we were studying, and I thought she was joking about it being a movie date but she was actually serious and kept bringing it up.”

“That’s a good thing though, isn’t it? You could’ve made a move on her.” Donghyuck pointed out in slight disbelief.

“I know, but I got scared! I thought.. what if she didn’t like me back, and I was taking this the wrong way? I didn’t want to make the next step and embarrass myself when— if she rejected me. I knew it was childish of me to try and be cool and play it off, but… I don't know. I-I really just thought she could do better...” Jisung buried his head into his hands, his shame and insecurities washing over him. “Mark just came back into town too, and I always thought he was a better match for her than me.”

He sucked in his breath, lips quivering. “I.. I told myself that if I just chickened out then she would replace me with him or something. So it didn’t matter if I went or not.”

“(Y/N) would never do that and you know that! It’s so obvious she likes you back,” Chenle couldn’t help but grow frustrated at how unreasonable Jisung was being with the whole situation. How could he possibly even think like that?

Jaemin inhales deeply, shaking his head in disapproval. “If you really liked her back, then you would’ve thought about how your actions would have affected her and how she would’ve reacted.”

Jisung lifts his head up, eyes bloodshot as tears drip down his face. “Guys, I fucked up. I hurt her feelings and—” His breath hitched, “S-she told me that I could go play whatever games I wanted as long as they weren’t with her! I didn’t mean to make her feel like she was just someone I used to pass time or she was a game!”

“Jisung, of course she would think that way! You can’t just mess around with her feelings like that. You ditched her without even giving her a plausible reason or heads up, and you argued with her and said that we mattered more than she did, even though we’re all friends!” Jaemin huffed exasperatedly.

He pauses to catch his breath, almost sobbing at this point. “I don’t know how to fix this. What if she never forgives me?”

“I’m so disappointed in you, Jisung. How do you expect her to forgive you?” Jaemin suddenly stands up, throwing his hands up in frustration.

Everyone’s eyes widened at Jaemin’s irritated tone. He rarely ever scolded Jisung, always showering the younger boy in love and affection. He even treated him like his little brother. Jisung's mouth hung agape at Jaemin’s harsh words. He knew he deserved it, but it stung even more coming from Jaemin.

Jaemin scowled before turning his back and storming out of the room. Everyone froze, stunned.

Jeno was the first to react. “I’ll go talk to him,” he said before stepping outside of the room.

The rest of the boys turned to Jisung who was flopped on the floor, his usually tall stature curling into a tiny ball like a small child. Chenle sighed before getting up to rub Jisung’s back comfortingly.

“You made a big mistake,” Renjun says bluntly from his spot.

“But so does everyone. Everyone has their insecurities, Jisung. You’re still growing so you still have an opportunity to learn from them so you don’t make the same ones again. But it’s a fleeting opportunity so don’t take it for other’s kindness for granted. You owe her an apology, and if you’re sincere enough, she’ll at least hear you out. You know how (Y/N) is — she’s a very understanding person.”

Chenle and Donghyuck nod their head in agreement. “We’ve all made mistakes before. It’s a part of life.” Chenle adds.

Jisung weakly mumbles a thank you, wiping the tears from his swollen face. The boys all give him a pat on the back and a tight-lipped smile. As much as they agreed that what he did was wrong, he was still their brother. It was their job to be there for him, to support him and guide him along the path even if he made mistakes.

Jeno popped in from the doorway. “We’re going to go clean up for dinner. We’ll call you down when the food is ready.” The boys all begin to shuffle out, leaving Jisung alone with his thoughts.

He feels such agonizing frustration, but he knows that he has no one else to blame but himself. He was the sole reason you had been hurt. It was his fault, his actions, that caused you pain. At the sound of your sobs replaying through his head, he squeezes his eyes shut and clenches his hands so hard that his dull fingernails pierce the skin of his palms, leaving painful indents.

However, Jisung’s head snapped up as the door creaked open again. Jaemin's eyes softened as he took a seat next to Jisung.

“I’m sorry,“ Jisung mumbles, “I really hurt her even though I swear, I never meant to. You can be mad at me. I deserve it.”

Jaemin sighs before ruffling the younger’s head. “No, Jisung. I’m sorry for what I said.”

“I really care about both of you and I know you understand what you did was wrong. It really did hurt her, but she really likes you, you know. A lot more than you think.” Jaemin murmurs.

Jisung didn’t have the heart to tell Jaemin he didn’t actually know.

Although Jisung would always jokingly fight back against the older’s hugs when he would be the one initiating hugs and coddling him, this time, Jisung’s body relaxes as he lets the older boy wrap his arms around him.

“Thanks, Jaemin.” He sniffles. The older boy can only pull him in closer.

∞

He had a lot of work to do. Jisung sighs, leaning back in his chair before scribbling “Mission: Make it up to (Y/N)” on a piece of scratch paper. He scrutinized the blank page before groaning and crumpling it up in frustration.

Jisung facepalms the table with an astounding thud, earning a yelp from across him. “What the heck, Park Jisung! Are you trying to get a concussion?” Donghyuck screeched. The chocolate milk from his bowl of Fruity Pebbles cereal sloshes onto the surface of the table and into his lap.

“Sorry!” Jisung mutters. His older brother glares at him while furiously wiping his lap with napkins. “I just can’t think of how to get (Y/N) to forgive me. I suck at all this romantic gesture crap.”

Donghyuck wails, “Doesn’t mean you can just freaking slam your head into the table! What did the table ever do to you? Also now my favorite sweat-shorts are stained.”

Renjun walks by the kitchen and rolls his eyes in disgust. “First of all, who the hell eats fruity cereal with chocolate milk— you heathen. You deserved it.”

Donghyuck flicks his middle finger at Renjun’s back as Chenle bursts out in his iconic dolphin laughter.

“Jisung, if you get a concussion in this kitchen or break the table with that empty skull of yours, Jaemin is going to break your skull. And you know (Y/N) the best, don’t you? Use your remaining brain cells,” Renjun tutted with a pointed look.

Jisung nods but whispers something about there being only one brain cell in this whole damn house under his breath.

“Yeah, I know— ‘cause it belongs to me.”

Everyone simultaneously rolled their eyes at Renjun.

Jeno sits in front of the TV, fervently smashing buttons. His eyes never break away from the screen yet he manages to pipe up. “Why don’t you start by figuring out a list of what she likes?”

Jisung’s ears perk up at the suggestion. “That’s a great idea Jeno!” However, his excitement quickly turns into a huff of exasperation. “But (Y/N) likes so many things… Anime, ice cream, watching me dance, fangirling over —”

“Me, of course!” Hyuck singsongs with a cocky smirk.

The crumpled ball of paper smacks him dead in the nose. “Ow!”

“Wait, I know!” Jisung shouts enthusiastically as an idea pops into his head. The boys all turn to look at him. “She loves the cake from the bakery down the street!”

“Ah, Neo Bakery? The one with cherry bombs and puzzle piece cookies?” Jaemin asks.

Jisung nods, flashing his smile for the first time in days. “Yeah! Can we go right now? Please?”

“I don’t see why not,” Jaemin grins. All the boys shrug in agreement, and begin grabbing their jackets and shoes. Even Jeno leaves his game to join. But before they knew it, Jisung had dashed out the door, his sneakers barely on. “Meet you there!” He called out.

They all share a look and collectively sigh.

“He’s so whipped.”

“Yep.”

∞

By the time they had caught up to Jisung, they had found him standing in front of the quaint shoppe pacing back and forth like a lost child. Chenle shoulder-bumps him, causing him to stop in his tracks. “What the heck are you doing?”

“I didn’t want to go inside alone… It looks kind of empty,” He says sheepishly.

“Oh my god, you big baby, just go in and—” Donghyuck froze as the door he had pulled causes him to lurch forward. He tries to open the door again, but to no avail. It hadn’t budged.

Jisung runs up to the window, squishing his face against the cold glass to peer intently inside. It was empty.

“Guys,” Jeno whistled. They whirl their head in his direction. Renjun holds up a paper with the words “CLOSED FOR RENOVATIONS UNTIL FURTHER NOTICE” emblazoned in bold letters across the page. “You have got to be kidding me,” Jisung bemoans, accidentally hitting his head against the glass window in the process. He winces and rubs his reddening forehead.

“Keep that up and you’re going to lose all your brain cells before you even get a chance to speak to (Y/N),” Chenle snorts. Jisung’s nose scrunches up at his best friends and he turns to face everyone else. “Now what am I going to do?” He whines.

“I mean, are there any other places that she’d like?” asked Renjun.

Jisung shakes his head. “No, just that place. She really likes their strawberry cream cake.”

Jaemin wrinkles his nose at the mention of strawberry before he exclaims, “Ah! I got it!” A mischievous glint appears in his eyes. “Jeno, don’t you have Doyoung’s number?” Jeno stares at him quizzically before letting out a sound of realization and nodding. He quickly gets out his phone and scrolls until he finds the right contact while everyone else’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “We’re going to go to the supermarket now, let’s go Jisungie.” Jaemin beams proudly.

“What are you talking about? The supermarket? For what?”

“I got it!” Jeno announces, grinning before shoving his phone into Jisung’s ginormous hands. Jisung fumbles with it for a bit, earning a glare from Jeno. He gives an apologetic grin before looking down to read the screen.

“Woah, what? How’d you get the recipe!?” He exclaimed. Jeno shrugs yet doesn’t bother to hide his eye-smile. “I’m friends with Doyoung. He works there part-time as one of the bakers and he owes me a favor.”

“Wait, are we going to the supermarket to buy all the ingredients?” Jisung parrots bewilderedly. Chenle rolls his eyes and smacks his best friend upside the head, “Yes, you idiot. Now can we go? I’m starving too.”

Jisung’s smile ear to ear as they all make their way down the street. He was so lucky to have them.

∞

After a chaotic trip to the supermarket which had resulted in Renjun chasing down Hyuck in attempt to murder the cheeky boy for yet again trying to steal his order of pork cutlet “by accident,” and Chenle trying to find his favorite Chinese ramen in the wrong aisle for a good 20 minutes, they had managed to get back home in one piece without getting kicked out by the manager again. (Everyone had blamed it on Jisung for accidentally knocking over the entire tower of cans on one of the tables, but he thought it was a stupid idea to even display cans in such a fashion. It wasn’t like it was one of Renjun’s weird art competitions or whatever.)

With the help of Jaemin and Jeno who both surprisingly had not fallen into the chaos, they had successfully checked off their shopping list.

“Now, we should measure out the ingredients first and then add it in so it makes it a lot quicker and easier,” Jaemin chastises as he puts on his apron. He turned around only to be met with the sight of Jisung coughing in the midst of a cloud of dust, desperately trying to wipe the cake flour that he had accidentally spilled everywhere off his black shirt.

“Park Jisung, I banned you from the goddamn kitchen for a reason but please, for the sake of (Y/N), get it together!”

Jaemin facepalmed. This was going to be a long ass ride afternoon.

∞

Cake was probably the most difficult thing Jisung has ever attempted to make in his life.“Why is this so hard? It’s just cake!” He stares at the gloppy mixture in front of him, lifting up the whisk only to be met with the sight of chunks of things he wasn’t even sure belonged in a cake.

First, it was the struggle with just simply washing strawberries. Jaemin had looked away for a single second and nearly went haywire when he saw what the younger boy was about to do.

Jisung had moved the strawberries into a bowl in the sink, running water and had just grabbed the container of green liquid when—

“Nooooooo! No!” screeched Jaemin. He smacked Jisung on the leg and scolded him with an incredulous look. “You don’t wash strawberries with dish soap, you idiot! Are you crazy!?”

Jisung shot him a puzzled look. “Wait, you don’t?”

With the self-restraint of every fiber in his body, Jaemin forced himself to not strangle the other boy.

Then it was this. Jaemin should’ve known it was a horrible idea to try and even think about letting Jisung do this alone, but the boy had begged about about how he needed to prove himself to you and he needed all the credit. He pinched the bridge of his nose and left to go drag someone else in to help.

Jisung was perpetually frozen in his spot, his jaw still hung open. His brain was short-circuiting at this point. If he had followed all the instructions, how did it end up like this?

“You both are idiots,” Renjun shook his head, glaring at Jaemin who had dragged him away in the middle of a Moomin marathon and Jisung who was still blinking confusedly at the whisk in his hand.

“Please, Injunnie,” Jaemin pleaded, pouting with his lips puckered out and puppy-dog eyes. “Do it for (Y/N) and Jisung! We’re all counting on you!“

“Agh, fine.” Renjun rolled his eyes before going through the recipe once again.

“Oi, Park Jisung! Snap out of it!”

“Huh, wha—?”

Renjun grabbed the whisk from him. He stares at the horrific mixture of what was definitely not cake batter and wrinkles his nose in disgust. “What the hell did you do?” He demands.

Jisung gives him a blank stare. Renjun examines the ingredients on the table and nearly faints.

“Jisung, this recipe says baking powder, not baking soda. And it says cake flour, you blockhead, not bread flour! Why do we even have bread flour!?”

“Actually, it’s because of Hyuck’s carb obsession,” Jaemin answers.

He immediately holds Renjun back from running off to fight the mentioned boy.

Jisung chortled, “Renjun, you’re the best!“

Renjun cuts him off by locking the taller boy in a loving chokehold and laughs. “Yeah, yeah, I know. Now help me would ya?”

∞

After about five hours of continuous screaming and threats of burning down the kitchen or someone’s hair (which may or may not be all by the hands of Renjun), they managed to successfully bake the cake. Jisung collapses on the couch besides his friends, finally giving his strained muscles a break from the hardcore struggle of baking. “Who knew baking was this hard?” Donghyuck teases the tired trio on the couch. Chenle laughs in delight at their suffering, and they all shoot him a dirty look. While they rest, Jeno begins cleaning the mess in the kitchen. “It looks like a goddamn tornado flew in here,” He mutters.

“My poor kitchen,” Jaemin weeps. He turns his head to pinch Jisung’s cheeks, “Ahhhh, the things I do for you and true love, my precious Jisungie.”

Jisung groans and slaps his hand away. Donghyuck and Chenle begin helping Jeno clean the mess as well. Just as they finish, the timer for the oven goes off.

Jisung sighs before getting up. “I’ll get it.” In his exhausted daze, he opens the oven and reaches out for the hot pan before —

“Ow, fuck!” He swears, retracting his now throbbing hand. “Language!” Jaemin scolds from his seat. Chenle rushes over, inspecting his hand. “Dude, are you okay?”

Jisung winces at the pain and mumbles, “I forgot the mitt.”

Jeno walks over and chides, “Go run it under cool water.” Jaemin and Renjun turned their heads from the couch. “Are you okay, ‘Sung?” Jaemin asks worriedly. Jisung nods weakly in response.

“We have burn salve, and I’ll help you bandage it afterwards,” Jeno grabs the burn salve from the cabinet and gently applies the salve to Jisung’s hand, who flinches even with the light pressure. “Chenle, can you get the cake?“ Jeno asks.

“I got it,” he reassures, skillfully taking the cake out with a mitt and closing the oven.

“Thanks,” Jisung then frowns at the white bandage wrapped around his palm. Y/N is probably going to freak if she sees this, he thinks to himself.

Despite the pain from his throbbing hand, the boys worked together to finish decorating the cake and celebrated by enjoying some of it as well. Surprisingly despite their clumsiness, it had turned out almost identical to the one from the bakery and didn’t taste bad at all. Now all Jisung had to do was just wait until he saw you tomorrow.

As he laid there in bed that night, he felt the gaping hole in his chest that had been masked by his chaotic day. He was missing something in his life the past couple of days. A hole in the shape of you. He felt like kicking something suddenly. Like himself. How could be so foolish as to push you away because of his own insecurities? You didn’t deserve a fool like him. The lump in his throat grew.

He closed his eyes tightly that night and sent a silent prayer up into the sky before he slept. Please give me another chance to love her. To make her happy.

∞

To say that Jisung was nervous, would be a great understatement. His entire livelihood depended on this. Well, maybe not livelihood but still. He didn’t know what he would do if you didn’t at least hear him out. He had trouble sleeping last night, his doubts and worries consuming him. The boys hadn’t questioned him this morning when they saw the bags under his eyes, yet still voiced their concerns only to be brushed off with a weak smile. This was what he deserved. And now he had to do what he must in order to earn your forgiveness. He had carefully wrapped the slice of strawberry cream cake in a box, with a red bow on top. He was never really one who was good at expressing his emotions through words, much less cheesy romantic gestures like this but he had practiced his apology at least a hundred times in front of his mirror the past few days. All he had to do now was just simply tell you it. Face to face.

His stomach churned as the memory of your cries and bitter words surfaced again. He shook his head in order to try and rid himself of those thoughts, which Chenle had noticed. He gave an encouraging pat to his friend’s back and murmured a soft “Hey, it’ll be okay.”

Jisung’s face twisted in slight anguish. “I don’t know, Lele…” He sighed. “I’m really scared. I really don’t know what I’d do if she doesn’t forgive me. I don’t even know if I really deserve another chance after what I did and said.”

“Jisung, she loves you a lot and you love her too. It would be foolish to say that you’d never hurt her but you need to prove that you won’t ever try and do it again. Just try your best and know that if she hears how sincere you are and see that you’re trying to learn from your mistakes, then you shouldn’t take that for granted ever again.” Chenle reassures.

Jisung smiles sadly before a look of determination replaces it. “Thanks, Chenle. It means a lot.”

Chenle smiles. “Any time, bro.”

∞

By the time lunch rolled around, Jisung felt like a shit ton of bricks had hit him. Usually, he would’ve seen you in the morning but you were nowhere to be found. He hadn't seen you in the halls or anywhere else at all, and worry was eating him up. Where in the world were you?

He took a seat besides his friends who all shot him a look of concern. “What’s wrong now?” Donghyuck questions gently. He hated seeing his youngest brother down in the dumps and although it was supposed to be resolved today, Jisung only looked more worn out.

“I haven't seen her at all today. Do you think she’s purposefully avoiding me?” Jisung feels his heart breaking even more at the possibility that you hated him to the point where you wouldn’t even want to see his face. His head drops in remorse.

“I don’t know,” Hyuck begrudgingly admits, “But don’t you have class with her?”

“Just some. But she was absent today. Usually I see her between classes as well and I haven’t seen her at all. What if she’s sick or she’s skipping class just to avoid me?”

“I doubt (Y/N) would ever skip class just for that reason… but you should just wait until class,” Renjun suggests. Jisung nods in disappointment, his expression resembling one of a kicked puppy. The boys exchange a look of pity and they eat their lunch quietly.

They could only hope for the best.

∞

Jisung mopes for the remainder of the day, feeling nothing but pure despair for his current situation. By the time the last class rolled around, he had basically given up on even seeing you today or even ever again for that matter. He stares at the dainty bag he prepared for you in deep regret before a familiar figure passes by him. (Y/N)?

His head snaps up so quickly he’s sure he almost gave himself whiplash.

It was you. You were here. You were here!

Relief washes throughout his body. His eyes followed you as you walked to your seat, yet he feels his body tense when you don’t even bother to glance back. You hadn’t spared him a single look since you had gotten to your desk but you could feel his stare burn holes into the back of your head. You didn’t actually know since you hadn’t looked at him since before this weekend but you had a gut feeling.

Still, you were stubborn and refused to turn around and give that jerk the satisfaction of attaining your precious attention.

It wasn’t fair of him to do that when he was the one who had hurt you. He was the one who had promised you his time, yet ended up treating you as if you were disposable — something he’d throw away once he had something better to do. You weren’t his priority.

You had basically spent all weekend curled up in your room sobbing into Mark’s arms. He had picked you up from the movie theater that fateful day and consoled you until the wee hours of night, patiently listening to you rant and bawl your heart out over a stupid, stupid boy. You felt so guilty since he had just come back into town and instead of spending time catching up, he had kept you company as you binge-watched sad movies to wallow in your heartbreak over a certain idiot by the name of Park Jisung.

(“I’m sorry Mark,” you blubbered as you cling onto his figure. He sighed as he rubbed your back soothingly, hoping to calm down your tears. You mumbled into his tear-stained shirt, “I didn’t expect you to come back and for this to happen. I ruined your weekend, didn’t I?”

“Well.. you might’ve,” He said, causing you to immediately sit and look at him with watery eyes and quivering lips. You opened your mouth to cry out even more but he stopped you. “Wait—I was kidding. Sort of but not really.. but it’s okay (Y/N)! I just don’t want you to see you cry anymore.” Through your watery eyes and sniffles, you managed to smack him weakly against his chest. He gave you a tight-lipped smile before softly pulling you into his embrace, tracing circles into your back as you melted into his arms and lulled yourself into a deep, painless slumber.

Mark slowly moved his head to look down at your forlorn figure, a peaceful expression upon your features despite the fresh tears still dripping down your face. He gently wiped the tears from your face with the pad of his thumb, his heartbeat thumping so loudly that he worried it would wake you. He felt like his heart was tearing in half — from how painfully heartbroken you were, and how ironically sad this situation was. “I’ll always be here by your side,” Mark whispers to the air, knowing you had already drifted into dreamland. His heart ached. After all, he knew you would never see him the same way you saw Jisung. And he had to live with that.)

You had spent the next few nights with Mark, ugly crying yourself to sleep in his arms until the tears ran out. Asking the skies how could he could just cut you out of his life just like that? Drop you with the lame excuse that his friends were first. Did he not feel any remorse for what he did?

Stupid jerk. He didn’t deserve any more of my goddamn time or attention. No more shedding any tears. No more self-pity, you thought to yourself. You didn’t need Park Jisung in your life. You didn’t need to waste your breath holding onto what your friendship once was, what your feelings once were. You were sure of it. You had tried to convince yourself so, anyways.

You wanted to burn every trace of Park Jisung from your life, yet Mark had persuaded you not to, quietly murmuring about how you would regret it more than Jisung would soon regret his actions. You found that hard to believe but after all he had done to stay by your side, you relented to his wishes.

The time had dragged on by agonizingly slowly. It felt like Jisung was stuck in time for what felt like a million damn years. His anxiousness increased as the class went on. You were actually here! He wondered why you hadn’t showed up for your earlier classes but he thanked the heavens that at least you were here now. Yet he couldn’t help but feel more on edge.

He swallowed thickly, tapping his pencil annoyingly and fidgeting in his seat. His eyes paid more attention to the ticking of the hands of the clock than the boring teacher droning on and on about today’s lesson.

Finally, the bell rings signaling the end of class. Jisung jumps out of his desk and grabs his backpack in one hand and the bag in another, dashing outside like his life depended on it. You catch a glimpse of his escaping figure, and scowl. Did he really not want to be in the same space as you? Was it that painful for him to have you to be in his life? You felt a lump grow in your throat. A part of you had naively hoped that maybe, just maybe he would confront you and apologize. Not that you’d forgive him, or anything but… You bite your lip. He really dashed out the door just like that. You swallow the tears threatening to spill and trudge out of the room with a grim shadow cast upon your face.

You walk outside and begrudgingly scan the groups of students dispersing, searching for his face despite your internal protests. You couldn’t help it. However, by the time you reach the steps of the school, he’s nowhere to be found.

“You look like your cat just died.” You turn around to see Na Jaemin leaning against the brick wall with his signature sweet smile painted on his face. You pout and remember that he’s still Jisung’s friend. Your pout quickly turns into a scowl, and as if reading your mind — he kindly says, “I’m still your friend (Y/N). Nothing will ever change that.”

Your walls drop and he gently nudged your shoulder, cocking his head towards the doors so you both head out. “I hope Bongshik didn’t actually die, or else Jeno would be devastated,” Jaemin remarks. Your shoulders droop and you shake your head. As you walk with him, he takes a turn into the courtyard and you follow him despite the unfamiliar path.

“I know what happened between both of you,” he breathes airily. You wince at the mention of the fall-out. You hadn’t really wanted other people to know yet you guessed it was inevitable. “I know you probably hate him, but I know it’ll be okay. “

You remain quiet, unable to form a coherent sentence when your mind is constantly buzzing with thoughts of Jisung, bringing back the pain clawing inside your chest. You bite your lip. “How can you be so sure about that?” You mutter bitterly.

As you stare at the fallen cherry blossoms littered all across the pavement, you don’t realize that Jaemin had stopped. You freeze, and look up only to lock your gaze with the deep chocolate orbs of the one person you had been avoiding all day.

His eyes darted around your face searching for any telltale signs of how you felt — yet your face was only void of any emotions besides shock. Your jaw drops as you immediately turn to leave. “Wait, (Y/N), please! I’m sorry, please don’t leave— please! Just hear me out.”

You halt in your footsteps, cursing yourself for being foolish enough to even listen to him. Your heart betrayed your mind. You turned around and glared at Jaemin for even getting you in this situation — yet his eyes simply gazed with intent, almost lulling you towards Jisung again. He raises his eyebrows in anticipation and tilts his head towards the other boy. You sigh in resignation at his silent command and then turn around to fully face Jisung.

“What could you possibly say that would make me want to stay?”

“I’ll leave you two alone,” Jaemin says quietly before walking away. Your eyes widen as you realize that you would have to deal with this alone. You open your mouth to protest.

“Wait, (Y/N), please — I just need to tell you something and then you can decide whether or not I’m worth any more of your time,” Jisung interrupts, pleading with his entire soul.

Your eyes flicker to him.

He had never looked so broken.

“I thought I wasn’t worth any of your time,” You say quietly, remembering his harsh words from the other day.

Jisung’s expression drops yet he knows he can’t stay quiet anymore. “No, that’s not true,” He says firmly. “You’re worth all the time in the world.”

You can feel your heart beating out of your chest now, and wonder if he can hear it despite the mere steps that distance you away from one another.

Jisung’s nose scrunches up, and you want to laugh at his cute habit of wrinkling his nose in distaste whenever he’s disappointed that something doesn’t go his way, even despite the grave situation. He inhaled sharply before continuing. “I’m so so sorry for what I said the other day. It was the most hurtful thing I’ve ever said to anyone and I’m so disappointed in myself for hurting you. I never meant to.” He bites his lip and you stare at him. His hands fidget but remain behind his back.

“I-I like you, (Y/N). A lot. M-Maybe even love you but either way! It doesn’t excuse what I did. I shouldn’t have stood you up, but I was stupid, and foolish and the biggest idiot in the world because I was scared. When you first brought up going to the movies together, I was so happy. This is going to sound so damn cheesy and I hate cheesy, but my heart literally soared. I’m still surprised you didn’t notice how red I was,” He admitted.

You stared at him in shock. Park Jisung liked you. Even loved you. He loved you back.

“I didn’t shut up about it to the boys. But then I kept thinking. What if you didn’t mean it like an actual date and I was taking it the wrong way? I was honestly terrified. I didn’t want to ruin our friendship by making the next move even though everyone told me you felt the same way. I over thought it and then decided that I didn’t want to look like an idiot, so I had to be really chill about it in front of you, so I wouldn’t embarrass myself if you didn’t feel the same way. I didn’t want you to know how excited I was because I thought I would look desperate, or something.”

“I let my insecurities get the best of me and god, when I heard that Mark Lee was coming back, I literally felt like I had no chance. I mean, you’re the most amazing girl I’ve ever known and I mean it (Y/N). Y-You…,” He pauses and takes a breath, forcing himself to make eye contact with you. “You deserve the world and I really want to be the one to make you happy because it makes me so happy every time you laugh because of me tripping over air or you wake me up when I fall asleep during our study dates — I mean hangouts. And when I get to hold your hand and doodle all over your arms—” He rambles on. “I was dumb enough to take your time for granted and not consider your feelings. But I want to do better for you. I regret what I did and I want to turn back time to fix it, but I know I can’t so… I promise I won’t make this same mistake again.” His ears turn red and your heart can’t help but swell at his words, despite your mind’s screaming.

“But I didn’t think I was good enough or anything like Mark, who’s a lot funnier and older and smarter. I thought he would be better for you.” You want to open your mouth to protest but he continues.

“But I don’t want to be scared anymore! I don’t want to live life regretting what I did. You’re the most important person in my life (Y/N), and I know I hurt you a lot because I was scared to let you see all of me and tell you how I really felt, but I want to be better and learn from my mistakes. I don’t ever want to hurt you again and I can’t promise you I won’t, because I’m a big idiot who’s still growing, and I know I make a lot of mistakes... but I want to be your big idiot who will apologize and grow from them. I would do whatever it takes to make you happy as long as we’re happy together.”

You found yourself on a rollercoaster of emotions. You bite your lip, trying to hold back the growing smile and tears threatening to burst.

Taking your hesitation as a rejection, Jisung looks down dejectedly before revealing the bag in his hand. “H-Here,” he struggles to keep his voice from breaking, just like his heart, “I… wanted to buy you your favorite cake from Neo Bakery but it was closed so I tried to bake it myself… I know you don’t want anything to do with me anymore but please just take it. It’s for you.”

Your eyes widen as you also notice his bandaged hand and the way he winces when he grips the straps of the bag tighter. You put two and two together and take the bag. You set it delicately down on the ground before rushing to embrace him.

Jisung stumbles back a little but manages to catch his balance as you wrap your arms around him. “You stupid idiot,” you mumble into his shirt, tears welling up. “Look at how cliche this is. You know how much I hate cheesy cliches.”

Jisung stiffens before he relaxes his body to hug you back even tighter. “I can’t believe you burned yourself baking a cake for me. How dumb are you? And I can’t believe Jaemin let you in the kitchen in the first place.” You say incredulously.

He lets out a laugh at your response and strokes your hair gently. “I know,” he says softly as he closes his eyes and relishes in your warmth. You loosen your grip around his torso and step back to gaze up at him. “I can’t believe you at all. What you did really hurt me and I almost burned all your hoodies” Jisung’s eyes widened in horror at your statement. You snigger slightly. “But I didn’t. Thanks to Mark, by the way.”

“It’s okay to be insecure and have your doubts and I know we all make mistakes but please, don’t shut me out and leave me hanging like that next time. We’re friends and friends don’t do that to each other. I accept your apology — only because I know how hard you must’ve worked to bake the cake with your stupid noodle limbs and incompetent cooking skills.”

“Hey!” Jisung pouts at your words and you reach up to pinch his cheeks as you laugh. He melts at your touch and a gummy smile emerges. “But if you couldn’t tell, I really like you too. Maybe even love you,” You inhale at your own words and avert your eyes. “But if you want to make the next move then we have to work on conquering our fears… Together.” You admit earnestly, a look of determination in your eyes.

Jisung can’t help but grin even harder as his heartbeat skyrockets. Happiness overflows through every part of his body. “Thank God,” He says, pulling you in for another tight embrace. “I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.”

You both revel in each other’s arms for a while longer as the breeze gently blows against your figure. You look up at him, with the sunset shining upon his skin. His sparkling eyes gaze intently into yours before he leans down a little and your breath hitches. He pauses for a moment before his lips brush hesitantly against yours, and although you don’t feel fireworks erupt or an intense rush of euphoria, you know that this felt just right. Your noses barely brush against each other’s and your eyes flutter shut, feeling his lashes tickle lightly against your skin. He’s so glad your eyes are closed so you don’t see his cheeks dusted with a rosy pink. You slot your lips against his more, the awkwardness fading away, and tip toe to wrap your arms around his neck as he pulls you in deeper.

He lets go first but smoothly slips his large hand into yours, fitting almost perfectly. His ears burn with embarrassment and you can feel yourself turn hot and blush fervently. Jisung scratches his neck trying to hide the fact that wow, for a kid who was considered shy — that really just happened.

“You’re not off the hook yet, Park Jisung! You still have a lot of groveling to do. Just because I love you doesn’t mean you’re forgiven, you big baby!” You announce to diffuse the awkwardness.

He smiles bashfully, “It’s okay. As long as I’m your big baby.” He leans down to grab the bag with his other hand and you blush even harder at the confidence brimming from his words. “Shall we go taste test my amazing cake?” He jokes.

You smack him and scoff, “There’s no damn way you were able to make this by yourself! Who helped you?”

He sticks his tongue out. “You’ll never figure it out.” You roll your eyes and laugh as you walk together, fingers still intertwined.

Maybe it was foolish of you to want to believe that Park Jisung wasn’t just simply a passing cloud or fleeting moment in your life. But you had hope. Hope that instead, he was the gentle breeze that tickled your nose and the warm sunshine that kissed your face on the warm summer days where you both had spent chasing each other until your lungs hurt. Or perhaps, his existence was embodied in the petals of the cherry blossom tree in the courtyard that bloomed every spring, carved with initials of young love that you had just ironically and cheesily enough, just experienced your first love underneath. You weren’t sure if Park Jisung’s existence was fleeting in itself or that the idea of forever actually existed, but you knew he himself was just there throughout every step of the way, and as much as the moments passed by and the memories faded, you could feel his love with the passing of every second.

And most importantly, you knew that Park Jisung still had your heart at the end of the day, and even if he dropped it, he would do everything in his power to put together the pieces even if it meant opening up a part of his heart that he had kept hidden away for so long and giving it to you. And at that moment, that was the only forever you needed.

author’s note: i sincerely hope you enjoyed this sequel hehe i worked really hard on this and it’s the longest story i’ve ever written! spoiler alert: there will be an epilogue/spin-off with mark in the making <33 please keep an eye out for that in the future hehe. special thanks to @neocitybynight @j-woosderland @gohyuck and @neostains for reading this beforehand!

taglist: @bumblebeenct @mjlkau @yongiefilms @neo-cultures @sugarsicheng @thenctaddict @soleilhyuck @ainabaina @heyy-sicheng @sunflowerhae

#neowritingsnet #kwritersworldnet #nct-writers #jisung scenarios #jisung x reader #park jisung scenarios #park jisung angst #park jisung #nct jisung #nct dream scenarios #nct dream angst #jisung angst #nct scenarios #nct angst #leyna writes #nct dream imagines #park jisung imagines

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senacal · 4 years

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Hey! Would u wanna write one where right after cuba in the hospital charles asks her to sing to him, and all she can remember is an old song from sweden (slightly personalized in that, i hope you dont mind!!) called Flyktsoda by ebba grön, she sings in swedish and he translates lyrics by telepathy. she ends up kinda confessing with the line "dont be scared of me, i am so scared of you" bcz shes a bit scary and mad all the time but shes super weak for charles. then u can decide how it ends 🥺🥺

Request: Requested by Anon

Pairing: Charles Xavier x Fem! Reader

Prompt: Hey! Would u wanna write one where right after Cuba in the hospital Charles asks her to sing to him, and all she can remember is an old song from Sweden (slightly personalized in that, I hope you don’t mind!!) called Flyktsoda by Ebba grön, she sings in Swedish and he translates lyrics by telepathy. she ends up kinda confessing with the line "don’t be scared of me, I am so scared of you" bcz she’s a bit scary and mad all the time but shes super weak for Charles. then u can decide how it ends 🥺🥺

Warnings: self deprecation? Charles isn’t okay and neither is the reader

Author’s Note: I don’t mind at all ^.^ I listened to the song and it was super catchy, even better when I found out what the lyrics translated to (I speak no ounce of Swedish lol 😅) Sorry it took so long btw, I fell into a funk but here I am, forcing myself out 😬

Requests Are Open!

After the events of Cuba, Charles hadn’t been the same. He wasn’t to blame, of course, his whole world had changed with a single bullet. It was heartbreaking to witness the once cheerful man turn into this broken person. He plastered on a smile when he needed to and he pretended to be the same cheeky man, but (Y/N) knew it was an act. Not only had he lost his legs, but he also lost Raven and his best friend Erik that day. Despite Erik being capable of making his own choices, Charles blamed himself for what happened. He blamed himself relentlessly and it annoyed (Y/N) because she knew the turmoil it was giving the man. She hated seeing Charles putting himself through that self-inflicting guilt.

No matter how many times (Y/N) or Hank tried to tell him it wasn’t his fault, Charles still continued to place the blame on himself. Charles did stop communicating that guilt out loud around them when they visited him in the hospital, but (Y/N) was willing to bet that it still resided in the back of his mind. She didn’t have to be a telepath to know that because she could easily see it in his eyes. She liked to think that she knew him well enough through everything they’ve gone through together.

Before Cuba, Charles and Erik had found her working a tireless job to keep herself off of the streets. She was barely scraping by and she lived in a crappy one-bedroom apartment. It was located in the bad part of town and the crime rates were skyrocketing, but the mayor didn’t care to fix that. So she suppressed her powers and forced herself to fight for what little she had. She couldn’t afford for her landlord to figure out that she was a mutant and kick her out. Thankfully her mutation was easy to hide, as long as her emotions were kept intact. The only hint at her mutant powers was the growing life around her wherever she went, meaning, she could manipulate plant life either with a thought or a simple touch. It aggravated her to see people treat the plants in her neighborhood soo poorly.

When Erik and Charles first went to collect her, she couldn't understand what they would want with a girl like her. She was on the verge of homelessness, worked a dead-end job, and had a criminal record. The charges against her weren’t too serious, a couple of shoplifting charges and she might have beat a guy up here and there who tried to attack her. But regardless, she knew she wouldn’t fit in with the others Charles and Erik had recruited. So when she met them, she glared her way through each conversation and ignored the CIA’s requests. But for some reason, Charles managed to worm his way into her heart. Maybe it was his charming smile that should have annoyed her or his eyes that were shockingly blue. Or maybe it was the fact that he understood her even though he was the complete opposite of her. Whatever it was, Charles was the only one who had seen her softer side.

It was almost funny seeing Hank’s shocked face when he witnessed her caring side for the first time. They had both decided to visit Charles in the hospital when Charles had asked for a small favor, some comfortable clothes, and (Y/N) had readily offered to get them. Hank was possibly more surprised than was necessary. (Y/N) did nice things! The other day she helped Erik with his powers, granted that was before he betrayed them and Hank wasn’t there to witness it. Now though, (Y/N) reserved her soft spot for Charles. Hank seemed to understand, he didn’t make any comments about it; but that was probably because when Alex did, (Y/N) manipulated the roots of a tree to keep him stuck for a whole night until Charles turned a disapproving eye on her. He learned his lesson after that though.

But that was all before Cuba. Now it was just (Y/N), Hank, Alex, Banshee, and Charles. But even Banshee and Alex went their own way. (Y/N) couldn’t say where they went, she wasn’t sure. But she did know that their departure had added to Charles’ grief and guilt. She made it her duty to stay by his side while he was in the hospital, a reassurance that she wouldn’t leave him. Charles had turned her into this soft mushy person and it scared her shitless. She couldn’t remember the last time she had loved someone. But the thought of him leaving or being taken away terrified her. Charles terrified her. But she pulled herself together so he wouldn’t realize anything was wrong, he didn’t need any extra guilt.

(Y/N) sat next to Charles's bedside, a book in her hands to keep her busy while Charles slept. She arrived early that day because of the construction happening on the street where the hospital was located and she didn’t want to be late. She wasn’t expecting Charles to be awake which was why she brought the book. She was immersed in the story when Charles woke up, which is why he surprised her.

“You’re here early,” He spoke groggily.

The flowers’ leaves on the other side of Charles’s bedside shot out of their vase and wrapped around Charles’s wrist, forcing it flush against the bed. (Y/N) might have gotten startled since she was distracted. She looked up with a guilty smile and released his wrist when he gave her an unamused look. “Sorry, you scared me,” She grumbled.

“It’s alright, love,” Charles rubbed his wrist. He hadn’t expected the grip to hurt since they were tulip leaves.

“How’d you sleep?” (Y/N) set the book in her hands aside and shifted so she could face Charles.

“Okay, I guess. I’m ready to get out of here,” He shrugged. He adjusted the bed so he could sit up.

“I can ask the doctor when you can be released if you’d like?” (Y/N) offered.

‘No, it’s okay,” Charles waved her off, “I’d much rather keep your company a little longer,” He smiled.

(Y/N) nodded, a faint smile on her lips. “Of course,” She drummed her fingers on her lap. “Did you need anything? The nurse? More medicine? Food?”

“I’m alright for now, thanks though… Can I ask you a question?” Charles hesitated.

“Yeah, anything.”

“Do you mind if, you can say no, but do you mind if I ask you to sing me a song? I’ve been quite bored here and the radio stations are rather crappy and there’s never anything good on the telly,” He rambled.

“Oh, uh,” (Y/N) furrowed her brows, what song would she sing?

“Never mind, it was weird of me to ask, you don’t-”

“No, I’ll sing for you uh, Is it okay if it’s in Sweden? I can’t really remember any songs right now,” (Y/N)’s cheeks flushed and her fingers began to fidget in her lap.

“I don’t mind,” He smiled kindly.

(Y/N) nodded and cleared her throat, here went nothing, “Lyckan kommer, lyckan går. Dom säger tiden läker sår. Jag släcker lampor. Jag öppnar fönster. Letar efter mönster. Jag kommer aldrig. Jag kommer aldrig, kommer. Kommer aldrig komma hem.”

‘Happiness comes, happiness goes. They say that time heals wounds. I turn off lamps, I open windows. Searching after patterns, I will never, I will never, will never come home,’ Charles lay back in his bed, his eyes closing as his mind translated the lyrics for him, one of the better aspects of his telepathy, the ability to understand any language.

“Flyktsoda, ta mig i hand. Sätt mig i brand, ibland ibland ibland. Flyktsoda ta mig i land. Sätt mig i brand, ibland ibland ibland,” (Y/N) could feel her stomach flipping, her chest filling with anxiety. She hadn’t realized how much this song actually meant until now. She hadn’t been happy before Charles came into her life. She was merely going through the motions, living because it was expected of her, but with Charles, hell even Hank, they gave her a reason to keep going. Only Charles was her reason for staying.

‘Escapesoda take my hand. Set me on fire, sometimes sometimes sometimes. Escapesoda bring me to shore. Set me on fire, sometimes sometimes sometimes,’ Charles inhaled deeply, (Y/N)’s voice soothing the ache in his chest. He appreciated everything she has done for him while he was hospitalized. If it weren’t for her, he was sure he wouldn’t have made it out in one piece. He barely made it with her there, but her persistent presence kept him grounded and kept him from falling into despair.

“Var inte rädd för mig. Jag är så rädd för dig,” (Y/N)’s voice stuttered over the words. They pierced her heart when she sang them. They rang true and she was afraid it revealed just how much Charles affected her.

“Don't be afraid of me. I'm so afraid of you,” Charles's eyes opened when he heard the vulnerability in her voice. He looked at her with questioning eyes, he almost felt bad when he read what she was thinking.

“Do you really think that I am afraid of you?” He asked softly.

“I, well, everyone else was, why not you too? I hurt you just a little while ago,” She pointed to his wrist.

Charles's wrist was rubbed raw from the leaf, but it wasn’t too bad, plus he had startled her, “I startled you, it wasn’t your fault.”

“That’s not the point Charles, I’ve done some bad things so why wouldn’t you fear me?”

“You fought to protect yourself. You are so much more than your powers, (Y/N). You’re magnificent, you’re amazing.” Charles wished he could reassure her and comfort her more, but his fucking legs couldn’t move. He shifted as best as he could, “Now why do you fear me?” He wondered.

(Y/N)’s heart was racing, she swore her heartbeat was louder than the heart monitor attached to Charles. “I- you don’t- why-” She ran her hand through her hair. “If I tell you, promise me this won’t change anything between us, okay? You’re all I have and I can’t lose you as a friend.” She spoke softly.

Charles nodded, “You could never lose me.”

(Y/N) bit her lip, wondering how to start. How does one even tell the person they love they fear them because of the hold they have on their heart? Charles managed to shove his way into her life and now she couldn’t picture her life without him in it. “I fear you because how easily you fit into my life,” She looked up at him, tears in her eyes, though she didn’t know why she was crying, shame maybe? “For a long time now it’s been just me, I had nobody, my parents didn’t want me, my landlord was looking for any reason to evict me, my co-workers were all selfish assholes, and I’ve been attacked countless times by men in the streets. I made sure no one could misuse my trust and I made sure no one could hurt me, but here you are,” She wiped a stray tear that ran down her cheek, “You pushed through the walls I’ve built and now I’m afraid to lose you.”

(Y/N) ran her hand through her hair again, she probably looked so pathetic to Charles.

“You could never look pathetic,” Charles reached his hand out to her which (Y/N) hesitantly took, “I know I said this wouldn’t change anything, but perhaps it can change just a little?”

(Y/N)’s brows furrowed in confusion.

“Perhaps once I get out of here we can go on a date?” Charles asked nervously, “You don’t have to agree, and we can continue like normal, but now that I know for sure that you harbor feelings towards me maybe we can-”

(Y/N) stood from her seat to press her lips to Charles’s cutting off his ramblings. She pulled away from the kiss and smiled, “I’d love to go on a date with you.”

Charles grinned, almost looking like his old cheeky self. He might have lost some things in Cuba, but he gained something too. He’d be damned if he let (Y/N) be taken away from him too. “I hope you know you’re stuck with me now.”

“I guess I can live with that,” (Y/N) laughed, “But promise me one thing okay?” At Charles nodded, (Y/N) continued, “Never tell anyone that I sang to you.”

Charles laughed despite her serious look, “I promise not to tell anyone.”

#Charles Xavier #charles xavier x reader #charles xavier x fem reader #x men x reader #X-men #x-men x reader #x-men x fem reader #mutant reader

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warrioreowynofrohan · 3 years

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Stormlight Archive - The Assassination Plot in Words of Radiance

This was going to be a Moash post, but it would be too long, so for the moment I’m focusing on ths specific element of WOR. Will get into Moash’s actions in subsequent books later.

I‘m of the view that, initially, Moash and Kaladin’s decision to assassinate Elhokar is understandable and defensible. Both of them have had their families destroyed by Elhokar’s actions as king. He threw Moash’s grandparents in a dungeon and left them there until they died. Knowing that Roshone was corrupt, power-abusing, and malicious, Elhokar still chose to put an entire town’s worth of people under his authority. From what they see of his as king, he is self-absorbed, arrogant, and unconcerned for others. He specifically replicates Kaladin’s experience with Amaram: Kaladin takes extraordinary risks and does extraordinary things to save the life of a lighteyes he serves, killing a Shardbearer in so doing, and he is punished as a result.

(I also do not regard Kaladin as wrong, in any moral sense, for demanding a duel with Amaram, though one can dispute the pragmatism. He has made his accusations. He has no further proof to offer beyond his own testimony. Dalinar, after hearing this accusations, has raised Amaram to a position of even higher power and prestige, so Kaladin has no reason to believe Dalinar will pursue the matter further. A duel was his only shot at justice - and he has full as much right to justice against Amaram, who betrayed and murdered his men, as Dalinar and Adolin have to justice against Sadeas, who betrayed and abandoned their men. Furthermore, Kaladin is entirely justified in his anger at being imprisoned. He saves Adolin, and in return he is imprisoned for the crime of being darkeyed. That’s all. Not for challenging Amaram. A lighteyes, like Adolin, would not have been imprisoned for challenging Amaram, so Kaladin is not imprisoned as punishment for the challenge, but as punishment for issuing it while being darkeyed.)

A further point. Yes, Elhokar’s bad decisions are, for the most part (but not exclusively) the result of ill-judgement and incompetence, not malice. But within the class/race/caste structure of Roshar, that doesn’t really work as an excuse. Rosharan society is built on the idea of lighteyes having the right to rule on the basis of just being better. Kaladin and Moash are both deeply inculcated in this - Kaladin spends most of his life looking for / expecting great, heroic lighteyes like in all the stories; it’s what he hopes the new citylord will be before being disapppointed in Roshone; it’s what he long believes Amaram to be. Moash believes it of Dalinar in TWOK, and similar reasons draw him to Graves (his first chapter in Oathbringer makes this very clear). If your entire authority is based on the idea of your caste being better, being more fit to rule, then “I have no idea WTF I’m doing” is less a personal excuse than an admission of the invalidity of your culture’s entire social hierarchy.

However. It is important to note that the assassination is never about social revolution. It has two motivations: 1) replace whiny, incompetent Elhokar with the stronger, more competent Dalinar (and not just Dalinar - the Blackthorn, the man Dalinar was 20 years ago, as Graves believes the assassination of his nephew will turn Dalinar back into that man) and 2) justice/vengeance for Moash’s grandparents and for Tien. The assassination of a tyrant is justfiable, but assassination with the aim of installing a tyrant? Granted, Kaladin and Moash have no direct knowledge of the Blackthorn.

The point where Kaladin’s participation in the assassination plot truly ceases to be justifiable, though, in my opinion, is when Elhokar comes to him and asks for advice. When the king shows up at your doirstep and sincerely says “Please teach me to king better, I know I’m terrible at it”, you lose any moral justification to kill him for being a bad king. You now have a better option - for you (and Dalinar, Adolin, Navani, and other people as applicable) to guide him into being a better king. Maybe not a great king, but a passable one. There’s a major distinction between assassinating a tyrant and assassinating a person for not being as good at his job as someone else might be. And Kaladin eventually realizes this.

However, Kaladin only realizes this through the combination of that conversation, a talk with Zahel, days to weeks’ worth of thought, and specific personal revelations. Moash has none of this. He’s expected to change his mind instantaneously on the sole basis that Kaladin has changed his mind at the last minute. And while Kaladin’s given his men plenty of reason to trust and respect him and his judgement, blind loyalty is not a moral imperative. The last time Moash checked in with Kaladin, he was reluctant but still on board. And the moment Moash punches Kaladin isn’t a deliberate attempt to do serious harm, it’s Moash forgetting that he’s in Shardplate and that a punch from him can rupture internal organs.

The turning point for Moash is the moment after that - when, after some reluctance and some pushing from Graves, he steps forward to kill Kaladin with his Shardblade. Not out of the goal of killing Elhokar - he and Graves could have done that already if they weren’t arguing, Kaladin has no power to stop them - but because if Kaladin lives, he’ll know that they’re the murderers and they won’t get away clean. The moment when Moash becomes willing to kill his friend and his captain to save his own skin is the moment when he becomes a villain. And right after he makes that decision, but right before he can strike, Kaladin speaks the Third Ideal and transforms into a figure out of myth or legend. And Moash is left with the guilt of his decision, but without having achieved any of his goals.

As a final point, it’s also important to remember that Shardbearers are extremely high-status within Roshar. They’re not just lighteyed - they rule entire districts. Moash would have had territory assigned to him. If his goal was social change in Roshar, he was in a better place to start achieving it through the position that Kaladin had handed him than through assassinating the king (which, again, would not usher in any social change). But he never regarded the Blade and Plate as anything beyond a sword and armor. (For that matter, neither did Kal after he became a Shardbearer.) That’s not their fault - by society’s intent, darkeyes are not trained in politics or government in any way. But that very lack of anything that could be called meaningful political consciousness is why I don’t think it’s accurate to regard Moash as a revolutionary. His motives are desire for personal revenge/justice, and contempt for Elhokar for not living up to what a king/lighteyes is supposed to be. He’s angry at Alethi society, yes - and understandably so! - but he’s not driven by the good of anyone beyond himself. Whereas the Windrunner ideals are all about protecting other people.

#the stormlight archive #brandon sanderson #kaladin #moash #elhokar

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everlarkficexchange · 4 years

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Operation: BREAD (Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad)

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 23: Rumor: MrEverdeen crossed fence dividing Town and Seam, kidnapped Mrs Everdeen making her his common law wife. Years later, Mellark sons plan to avenge their father by raiding Seam and kidnapping one of Everdeen’s daughters for one of them to take as a wife! Does Katniss “volunteer,” does she escape, how do the 3 brothers decide what to do with her since they didn’t plan it all out well? [submitted by @567inpanem]

Rated: T for now, for language.

Author’s Note: So, I resigned myself that this prompt won’t be completed by the new dateline of May 10th, because believe it not, quarantining with the husband and children at home makes for a very busy day… everyday. I haven’t been able to write anything for days at a time, and everytime I come back, I reread what I’ve written so far, and find faults that need fixing and what I hoped to be a short story is turning into a long one shot because I’m incapable of keep things simple… and now I’m ranting about everything instead of thanking everyone— from the EFE administrators, to @567inpanem for the prompt, and y’all dear readers— and wishing all moms a happy Mother’s Day, even if you celebrate it on a different date in your country… and I a belated happy birthday to Katniss Everdeen and Also a happy Mother’s Day to her, because she deserves it… anywho…

Here’s is the very first part of this story, that can’t make up its mind on what it wants to be (it’s leaning into romcom territory right now), I’ll post all my submissions soonish (hopefully finished), and I apologize for any formatting defects since I’m posting from my cell phone, otherwise I’ll forget to post it at all.

Sorry this is messy! I love y’all! Stay healthy.

————

“Quiet, you morons!” Bannock… whispers?

Is that the right descriptor for the harsh, low sounds that comes from his mouth? I’m not quite sure, but I look at him sheepishly, since I was the one to trip on air this time around and nearly knock down a clothesline, poles and all.

“S-sorry…” I stutter drunkenly.

Rye shrugs, uncaring. Asshole!

Bannock glares at us with his bloodshot, angry blue eyes before turning around and creeping forward.

It’s a chilly night out, with no stars and just a sliver of moon casting minimal light over us, ideal to maraud and raid… if we lived any place else, that is.

If we were to find ourselves face to face with the flashlight of a Peacekeeper patrolling the streets, things could go anywhere from awkward to deadly, and I really hope we don’t have to find out how it’ll truly go. We’re wasted, outside our house after curfew, and facing our mother’s wrath would probably be as terrible as any punishment the peacekeepers would inflict on us.

The later option has me swallowing thickly.

I’m no coward by any stretch of the word… but I do enjoy being alive, so… yeah.

“Don’t mess around, no more!” Bannock chides.

As soon as Bann turns around, Rye mouths his words back, mockingly, and I wonder— not for the first time— how can my brothers be so immature? Bannock just turned 25, while Rye has the mind of a 13 year old trapped in the muscular body of a 24 year old man; leaving sweet, little me, the 21 year old baby sibling, to bring the rear.

Rye burps, mostly quietly, earning another warning glare from Bann. All things considered, I’m a little impressed at how stealthily we’ve been moving so far, being as enebriated as we are and all. But who knows? Maybe we really aren’t as slick as my alcohol soaked brain thinks we are, and I’m just too skunked to know any better.

“D’you think we’ll be back before father wakes to take care of the ovens?” Rye slurs a little, squinting his eyes at a cat trotting across the alley in front of him. A second later he’s frowning down at the cat, shushing it obnoxiously, as if it’s soft paws are the ones making the stopping sounds coming from his own boots.

Bannock shrugs, “Who cares!”

I’m about to raise my hand and respond that I do, I care, but Rye starts laughing like an idiot, already distracted by something else. We turn to catch him picking up a stick and throwing it at the poor, unsuspecting cat. As soon as the stick hits it’s side, the animal loses its balance, making it fall into a trash can, with a terrified cry.

It’s awful. And loud.

“Knock it off!” Bannock growls as quietly as he can. “You’re gonna wake up the whole town, asshole!”

The cat meows indignantly, climbing out of the trash. He jumps to the other side and it’s gone in the next moment.

I sigh, rubbing one hand over my face. “Guys, I think we should go back. I don’t think Father will approve of this.”

“Shut up, Peeta!”

“Yeah! Shut it, runt!”

I grunt in aggravation under my breath. “I’m serious. We shouldn’t be out here… at all!” I insist.

“Why did you come then?” Bann hisses.

“You dragged me out with you, jackass!” I counter, pointedly. Plus, I’m the least drunk out of the three of us, and I figured I should keep an eye on them two, make sure they don’t get hurt in this idiotic quest… but I don’t say that out aloud. “I still don’t understand why, are we stumbling across town in the middle of the night, risking getting caught outside after curfew.”

“You know why, Peeta! We’ve gone over it to death,” snaps Bann, twisting his whole body to face me and almost walking into a potted plant sitting by somebody’s back door. “Father doesn’t know how to take care of himself, let alone how to defend his honor!”

“Our hands have been forced, runt. We need to pick up the slack, that’s why!”

I roll my eyes at my brothers.

It’s true though. For the last 26 years, our father has been both the butt of every joke said in the streets of district 12, and the victim of a tragic cautionary tale, people somehow feel the sadistic inclination to bring up to us, Mellark boys, as if we needed the reminder.

“Geez… save it for Everdeen, Bann. Let the runt keep his head instead of chewing it off him!”

Bannock frowns. It’s not everyday Rye comes to my defense, which means he really must be hammered.

Cool! I love brotherly affection… even if given under the influence.

“Whatever.” Bannock mutters under his breath. “We’re here anyway.” He signals to the fence dividing our district into two unequal sections: the merchant quarter, where we live, and the Seam (our destination), the largest— yet poorest— side of 12.

It’s unclear why the government erected the fence running right through the district in the first place, but the effect of having a literal barrier separating everyone in our small district, couldn’t be any clearer: we have a huge social divide amongst our people, very distinct and hard to overcome. Both sides distrusting the other, despite there never being a tangible reason why.

Personally, I think the most logical explanation for the creation of the internal fence, was just sheer desire to create hostility and antagonism between the citizens of 12… maybe it’s easier for the Capitol’s long arm to control a podunk place like here, when there’s an unbridgeable social chasm between our own denizens; how can we band together to demand better treatment and fair representation from the mighty Capitol, when we’re fighting with each other?

Of course, I keep my opinion to myself, because speaking of such things is just a sure way to find oneself in prison, facing charges of public agitation and whatnot.

Bann cuts through my musings, “Alright… let’s find a spot to cross over.” He says determined and still very intoxicated.

The worst kept secret in District 12, is how some sections of the fence are too close to the houses in the merchant side. If one really wants to cross into the other side over the fence, one only needs to look for a low wall adjacent to the top links of the fence to climb on, and after that, it’s all a matter of gravity pulling you down. Its been done before too…

Everyone speculates that’s what happened the day our father fell into disgrace: A man from the Seam found a weak spot to exploit… and the rest is history. Never mind the fact that jumping the fence is a common enough hooligan deed; how else can teenage couples reach the Slag Heap at the edge of the old coal mines to engage in their secret affairs?

It only takes us a few minutes to find a brick wall circling the backyard of a random house, just two feet shy of the fence.

We climb it with all the grace of a pig crawling up a greased pole, but after much huffing and puffing, we manage— with great effort— to drag ourselves over the barrier. We’re sweating and swearing, but who could blame us for that? We Mellark boys are just too broad and heavy with muscle, add to the mix the fact that we’ve drank our body weight in white liquor right before Bann had the brilliant idea of dragging us out here, and you have an uncoordinated— mostly clumsy— sad excuse, trio of vandals.

Rye goes first, then I go; finally, Bannock splatters down like a bullfrog, falling on his ass. He’s disgruntled and I suspect in dire need of a nap.

“Come on!” He commands, dusting his behind sloppily.

We’ve been walking aimlessly through unfamiliar dirt roads and dark unpaved alleys. The place is littered with produce crates set upside down in neat circles every other road… I vaguely wonder if that’s what passes as a socializing hot spot here in the Seam, like the square with its concrete benches is for us in town?

Sometimes I forget how things can be so shitty on this side of the District. It makes my stomach twist unpleasantly with guilt, realizing I take certain privileges for granted.

About five minutes into our stupid intrusion into Seam territory, Rye speaks up.

“Dude… do you know where they live?”

Bannock’s head snaps up, clearly annoyed. “How hard can it be to find the Seam’s apothecary?”

Very, actually.

First of all, The Seam consists of row after row of seemingly identical shacks, in varying states of shabbiness, arranged in a huge matrix of sorts. Each row is made of three to five houses with a slim road in between the next set of homes.

For what I gather in my limited liquor-addled brain, each horizontal row has a designated letter, and the vertical street goes by number. Other than that, there are no other distinguishing signs, telling us where we are or how to find the ‘Seam apothecary’ as Bann inarticulately dubbed it.

Rye groans in annoyance, seeming ready to overrule Bannock and call the whole thing off, himself; but my drunk ass is too stupid to keep my big mouth shut.

“They live close to the electric fence. Right before the meadow. They probably have a fence-in yard, too.”

I wince, regretting my words right away. I shouldn’t have said anything, but like an idiot, I couldn’t help spilling out the small bursts of information I’ve gathered over the years on the Everdeens.

I’m ashamed to admit it, but the Everdeens are a bit of an obsession to me… for all of us Mellarks, really. Given our entangled past with them, it shouldn’t be so much of a revelation, but this thing between our families has been a nuisance ever since I can remember and while my brothers and mother use it as a focal point of hatred and animosity. For me, is a curiosity driven thirst for knowledge on everything Everdeen. Anything that could shed light on our sordid past, I would gobble up, trying to answer why something that has virtually nothing to do with me and my brothers, still haunt us everywhere we go.

Rye frowns. “Fence-in yard?” He looks around the houses we are passing, realizing none of those have fences.

“Goat.” Bannock grunts, nodding thoughtfully. “Good catch, runt.”

“Huh?” Rye is scratching his head, confused.

“The blonde girl,” Bann says with mild irritation.

People from the Seam have a very specific look to them: dark— usually straight— hair, gray eyes, olive skin… ‘blonde’, blue eyed and pale, is more of a descriptor for people from the merchant class, like us… like Mrs. Everdeen.

The poor woman must stick out like a sore thumb in here; probably the same goes to her merchant-looking daughter, Primrose.

“What about the blonde?”

“She makes goat cheese.” Bann huffs as explanation, but since Rye still looks like the concept is too hard to fathom, Bannock grunts, expanding. “She trades the cheese in town. Mainly with Father. Which means, Everdeen has to keep at least one goat for the girl to have access to milk.”

“M’kay… goat, fences, meadow.” Rye lists clumsily on his fingers, following after Bann. “Got it!”

We quickened our steps in the direction of the electric fence. I’m still kicking myself for saying anything when we reach the last row of houses before the meadow.

I really hope I’m wrong about them having a goat, although I find it hard to believe Primrose steals milk from other people for her cheeses. She looks so sweet and innocent.

Alas, I’m too clever for my own good sometimes.

The very first house in the row at the edge of the meadow, has a pen connected to the house on the strip of backyard allotted to them. A tiny but sturdy shed stands against the back wall of the house, and if my eyes don’t deceive me, I can barely make out the snout of a goat, peeking out of the narrow opening of the shed.

“This is it!” Rye crows excitedly, rubbing his hands together and licking his chops like a hungry, humanoid wolf.

“Yeah. Finally!” Grunts Bann, “keep your voice down, doofus.” his reaction, both frenzied and anxious.

“Let’s do this!” Rye’s smile is deranged.

“Great!” I hiccup with fake enthusiasm. “What are we doing?” I deadpan, staring at my siblings with all the aggravation I can muster.

My brothers speak excitedly at the same time:

“Taking one of the girls back home with us!”/“Beating the shit out of Everdeen!”

My brothers look at each other, perplexed, and go, “”What?!” At the same time.

“Fuck!” I groan to the skies, noting its near dawn. “You better be joking! We came all the way out here, and you idiots didn’t plan what you were going to do once we arrived?”

“No… I mean, yes! No. it’s simple,” Slurs Rye trying to stare me in the eye and failing miserably, “We’re dragging Everdeen out here. Then, we’ll beat the snot out of the bastard, and have you doodle the whole thing out for Father… you’ll finally use that art talent of yours for something we’ll all enjoy… not just you,”

“No, no, no, no!” Snaps Bannock. “We’re taking one of Everdeen’s daughters, bring her back home with us, and avenge father.”

“What? Why?” Rye whines much too loud and even I shush him. “I thought we were just gonna jump the bastard and rearrange his face a little,” Rye sounds disappointed.

Bannock answers right away, sounding like our mother when she’s chiding us for some thing or another. “Dude… the guy stole Dad’s girl! You know what they say about repaying a slight with the same coin and all that shit. It stands to reason, the course of action here is to take one of the girls home with us, sleep with her, and get her pregnant or something, then she can’t come back to her daddy.”

I throw my hands up in the air, “That’s it! I’m out!” My brain practically short circuits with the outrageous shit my brothers are spewing out of their mouths.

Sure, beating the lights out of an unsuspecting man in front of his house in the middle of the night is already crazy, but Bann’s idea to take a girl away from her home, it’s beyond preposterous!

Instead of lashing out, I turn around and stalk away as fast as my legs can carry me. I’m still tipsy, so I stumble a little, but I’m determined to leave.

“Hey! Where are ya going?!”

I get grabbed by the bíceps and pulled back to ‘hide’ behind a scraggly bush overlooking the house we assume is Everdeen’s. My brothers push me down by the shoulders roughly, until I’m sitting on my ass.

“The hell is wrong with you two?” I snarl, trying to punch and kick either one of them.

“Shut up, runt! They’re gonna hear you!”

“Good! Then someone will call the Peacekeepers over.”

“Wha— No! Why would you want that?” Rye whines.

“I didn’t sign up for any of this crazy shit!” I spit enraged.

“Dude, you can’t bail on operation BREAD,” Rye scrunches up his face.

“Operation Bread? What in the hell, is operation Bread?” I wrench my arms free from them at last, glowering up at both.

“Bring Revenge on Everdeen to Avenge Dad!” Rye says proudly, a lopsided smile brightens his face, and all I want to do is punch his nose.

“You’re insane!” I sputter.

“No… I’m cle-ver!” Rye grins, tapping a finger to his temple.

“Come on, Peeta. You know this needs to be done!” Bann cuts in.

“No! It doesn’t!” I argue. I still feel woozy from alcohol though, so it’s costing me too much effort trying to get up. “This is just insane, Bannock! What you’re proposing is just… heinous!” I hiss.

Bannock’s face hardens, “Nobody will see it like that.” He assures, “An eye for an eye, baby brother.”

“So what? We’re gonna kidnap and rape an innocent girl in revenge, and you think that’ll fix anything? Will it bring peace? It’ll help you get Madelynn’s parents to back off and let her marry you?” I’m so pissed off, I’m pretty sure spittle is flying out of my mouth. “It won’t do anyone any good! Not us, nor father, and especially not Katniss or Primrose!”

“Shut the fuck up!” Bannock flies at me, and all I have to do is lift my arms to shield my head.

Rye is an equal opportunity asshole most of the time, but in this moment, he’s the one stopping Bannock from breaking my face in two, and I’m very grateful for my middle brother manhandling our eldest for me.

“Rape is a strong word, runt.” Rye gasps with the effort of keeping Bannock from kicking my ass. But if the wrinkling of his nose is any indication, I think maybe my words are chipping away some of his complicitness in this mess. “Maybe, what Bann meant, was, one of us will… you know… spend time with the girl, and then… make her his common law wife or something?” Rye looks at Bann expectantly.

Bannock nods. Rye lets go of him.

We all stay silent, breathing heavily for a moment.

“Same coin. Simple as that.”

If the stories are to be believed, Sorrel Everdeen crossed the fence dividing the merchant quarter and the seam, kidnapped my father’s betrothed— Lily— and made her his common law wife, despite being common knowledge, that the woman in question was engaged to our father since they were very young.

It’s an old rumor, really, with no real way to fact-check the events that led to this moment in time, but there’s always been some nasty whispering churning around town; tales varying in height and perjury, sometimes scandalous, others depraved, always with add-ons and full of conjectures flavored by the speaker in turn, but never the whole truth.

The worst thing is that the stories die down for a while when something juicer comes up, but then resurface, like a persistent oily stain on cement… It’s been 26 years since the real events leading to the Everdeens controversial marriage took place, yet the old gossip mill in District 12 has waxed over and rewritten the sordid story through the lense of judgemental people over and over again, until even our mother has started to repeat the outlandish tales, as if she wasn’t an active participant of the story herself.

Still… “I just can’t!” I say both exasperated and grossed out. “We should just go home—“

I get cut off when the door of the Everdeen house opens spilling faint candlelight into the almost blackened-out street.

My brothers rush to huddle around me, crowding on top of me like a pair of boulders… or worse: a pair of sweaty, heavy, alcohol doused men. Disgusting!

The door of the shack closes softly and to our shock, a very angry looking Katniss Everdeen stomps in the direction of the sad excuse for a bush we’re hiding in.

“Hmm… guys… I think she sees us.” I mumble calmly, yet terrified. Katniss Everdeen, eldest daughter of Sorrel and Lily, is coming our way with fire in her eyes.

TBC on AO3…

#Springtime Edition 2020 #alliswell21 #567inpanem #prompt 23 #submission

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anerdinallherglory · 4 years

Text

Approaching Sun (27)

Author’s Note: I am SO sorry about how long this chapter took to update. Taking on master’s classes on top of work has been a rough transition. The majority of this chapter had been planned and typed a long time ago, but it just took me ages to organize it, detail it, clean it up, and fluff it with a fork. For those of you who have contacted recently, (and I probably have yet to respond) this chapter is for you. Without your encouragement, who knows how much longer this chapter would have taken.

Forgive me. Hope you enjoy.

Pairing: SasuSaku

Previous Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26

Chapter 27: Confirmation

Sakura had fully intended on eavesdropping on Sasuke’s conversation with Satou; in fact, it was the only reason that Sakura had allowed the interaction to transpire between her patient and her teammate. After Sasuke had closed the door firmly behind her, Sakura had walked heavily down the hallway so her footsteps could be heard. Her next step was to take the stairs, walk silently up two floors, and listen in by opening the window directly above Satou’s. Sakura had noted that Satou’s patient room window had been cracked open. Surely her ninja skills would be well-adapted to a simple eavesdropping.

But that’s not what happened. Instead, as Sakura walked down the hall, she noted that her breathing was becoming short. Her chest was tightening considerably, a feeling that she dismissed at first to anxiety at the current situation. When she paused to consider it, Sakura tried to swallow past her itchy throat. A terrifying realization came over Sakura has she glanced down at her hands that held the freshly pulverized Ashuwa.

Shit.

Sakura covered the mortar, sprinted down the remainder of the hallway, and took a right. She held tightly to the Ashuwa despite the situation; she couldn’t afford to sacrifice what they had acquired in her state of panic. Sakura tried her best to remember the hospital’s layout; there was a drug storage room on every level, so thankfully Sakura wouldn’t have to take stairs in her compromised situation. Turning another corner, Sakura was relieved to finally stumble up to the door marked “薬” for medication. Placing the mortar of Ashuwa on the ground, Sakura managed to focus through her shortness of breath and perform the sign of the ram to channel her chakra to her palm. Placing it on the center of the door, Sakura nearly stumbled as the door received her chakra signature and swung open to grant her access to the room.

Sakura’s vision began to blur as she shuffled through the drawers and cabinets. She could barely read the itemized labels of the stored items. Don’t panic. Don’t panic. She felt lethargic and her throat was swelling quickly. She should have taken Mako’s warning more seriously. He had told her of the drug’s disuse in the medical environment due to many allergic reactions to it. This was what she had been testing earlier when she picked a generous pinch of Ashu from the ground and placing it in her mouth; however, her and Mako both had gotten distracted by the issue of Satou.

Sakura cursed at herself for being careless but felt confident in her approach. If only she could find the medicine. She narrowed her focus to the vials on the top shelf and coughed violently as she reached for one. Stumbling into the shelf resulted in several of them busting onto the ground. After locating the blue tagged bottle labeled “adrenaline,” Sakura threw open cabinet after cabinet until she found the drawer of packaged syringes. She was choking now, a fish out of water and she aimed the needle into the top of the bottle; her hands shook as she waisted even more time trying to draw the medicine into the plunger.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke was trying to outwalk Mako, who was smiling kindly and attempting to make small talk as they quickly made their way down the hall from Satou’s room. Sasuke thought if he could just stride quickly enough, Mako might take the hint and part ways with him.

Sasuke frowned at Mako’s prattling of, “I have to admit. I was concerned with the whole genjutsu approach, but I think that it might be pretty effective. That was brilliant!”

Sasuke stopped his break-neck pace and narrowed his eyes at the medic, scrutinizing him carefully. “What do you want?”

“What do you mean?” asked Mako innocently, crossing his arms behind him.

Sasuke debated Mako for a second. Here was a skilled shinobi of medicine, an assistant to his friend, and Sakura addressed him casually. This trip was the first occasion that Sasuke had ever met him, yet Mako recognized Sasuke’s attempt at genjutsu before he had even performed it. Perhaps he was knowledgeable of the sharingan; many people were. It was Sasuke’s past of constantly being targeted that had the Uchiha wary. Was this the reason Sasuke was inclined to distrust him, or was it the fact that Sakura was involved?

Sasuke clarified. “I want to know who you are and what you want.”

Mako laughed and smiled nicely. “Well, I am a medic ninja here at the Suna hospital. I have been appointed to assist Sakura-san during her stay with us. Kankuro was pretty adamant about it.”

“Hn.” Sasuke responded before walking forward again. Mako sped to catch up.

“Honestly,” he continued, “Sunagakure owes a lot to Sakura-san. You have probably heard this before, but we have advanced due to her and the Leaf’s medical supervision and instruction. We are something in her debt.”

Sasuke didn’t respond. Perhaps that was all there was to it. Sasuke supposed it made sense that Gaara and Kankuro would assign the most ambitious learner and fellow medicinal expert as Sakura’s assistant. Sunagakure wanted to take advantage of every lesson and tip available. Sakura’s discipline and dedication to the medical practice made her share a common interest with the professionals here. Not everyone always had some double meaning to their actions like most ninja in the shinobi world.

As Sasuke and Mako rounded the corner to the left, they paused as several people ran past them in the opposite direction, back toward the center of the third floor. One man who bumped into Mako’s shoulder turned to look at him in recognition, jogging backwards. “Code 10. Haruno-san.”

“Shit!” Mako cursed, chasing after the man who spoke. Sasuke didn’t know what “Code 10” meant, but to see a panicked response in connection to the name “Haruno” had Sasuke quickly following.

“What is it?” he demanded, matching Mako’s stride this time.

“Anaphylaxis” Mako said breathlessly as they rounded the final corner and nearly collided with several attendants outside a small room in the hallway. Someone was kneeling just outside the door and Sasuke couldn’t make out the questions they were asking before until he began to make his way through with Mako right on his heels.

When he came in line with the entrance, Sasuke froze. Sakura was on her back, broken glass surrounding her on a messy floor. A medic was kneeling down beside her and removing a syringe from her hand. “We need to get her into one of the rooms. Now.” Sasuke’s heart was racing as someone wheeled a gurney past him. Mako began pulling him away from the entrance to which Sasuke almost shrugged off.

Sakura’s pink head was closest to the door so Sasuke couldn’t get a good look at her face until they began lifting her onto the gurney and wheeled her past him. To Sasuke’s great relief, his medic friend was fully alert despite the hives across her face and swelling lips. When making eye contact with him, she raised her hand and waved awkwardly.

“Hey.” She said past swollen lips.

“Hey?!” Sasuke responded, irritation quickly replacing his concern. Was she serious?! Mako let out a surprised laugh at her casual greeting. Sasuke ignored him completely and began tailing the gurney as it rolled away with her.

“What the hell happened?” he asked her with pointed annoyance. After failing to mumble past her tomato mouth, Sasuke shook his head. “Nevermind.”

“I’ll explain,” Mako said from the other side of the swiveling table. Sasuke spent the next several minutes listening to Mako explain a basic understanding of anaphylaxis and staring disbelievingly at Sakura as they unloaded her onto a bed. They began to hook her up to an IV and other machinery that would monitor her pulse and blood pressure.

Mako continued his explanation, “Antihistamines are what comes next. Luckily, she responded to the epinephrine and doesn’t need intubation. We’ll have to monitor her for a few hours just to make sure she doesn’t have another episode.”

Sakura was nodding her blistered head in agreement at everything he said. Sasuke just glared at her.

“Why did you eat a plant you knew was toxic?” he asked crossly. She shrugged her shoulders, the only response she could really make at the moment.

“I should have stopped you, Haruno-san.” Mako bowed. “It is all my fault.”

Sakura began shaking her head to dismiss Mako’s apology. Then she began to gesture for Sasuke to come over to her bedside. When he was close enough, Sakura pointed toward his hand.

“What?” he asked, looking down at it. My hand? What about it? He sure wasn’t going to hold her hand if that was what she was implying. Especially not in front of anyone.

A word made it past her lips but Sasuke didn’t understand it. “Hn?”

“Rath,” she repeated, still pointing. “Da ya hath a rath?”

“Oh,” Mako exclaimed. “You were handling the Ashuwa earlier, Sasuke. Do you have a rash on your hand?”

Ah. Sasuke’s hand was partially gloved except for his fingertips, which were unmarred. It had been approximately 30-45 minutes since Sasuke had even touched the plant. Sakura had sampled the herb 10 minutes before that, so it was too early to tell if Sasuke would have a similar reaction. He didn’t have a rash on his fingertips though.

Another physician handed Mako a familiar mortar and removed his disposable gloves after touching it. Mako immediately pinched a piece out of it and offered it to the Uchiha.

Sasuke responded with a glare as Mako continued to hold it out. “You’re not suggesting I eat that?”

“We need to make sure that you don’t develop a similar reaction, especially if you plan on using the chakra pills that Sakura is making.”

Sakura was mutely nodding in agreement and Sasuke annoyingly spat out toward her, “Why? You want me to end up looking like you?” Her nodding turned to shaking.

She followed with, “He’th ight. Eat wow you ah here.” Sasuke scoffed and blinked in disbelief at her communication efforts. How was she even talking?!

This was an absolute lunatic idea. She wanted the BOTH of them in hospital beds in this village while Gaara was away handling potential psychos that were after them? It was already a concern that she was incapacitated; Sasuke sure as hell wasn’t going into anaphylaxis too by choice.

“I’ll wait until you’re better,” he answered, shooing Mako’s hand away from his face. As he did so, Sasuke pointed at the door, ordering Mako to just go and check on Satou’s kid. Mako blinked at him in confusion before taking the hint and exiting with that same excuse.

When the silence grew thick between them, Sasuke took a casual stance against the wall next to Sakura’s bedside.

“Ya are wathing time,” Sakura began, looking guilty despite her swollen mouth as she tucked her hands beneath the covers and looked around at nonexistent people in the room; anywhere but at him. She was right. He was wasting time, and Sasuke mentally shook himself as he realized his indifference to that. He was trying to remind himself of his goal but in that moment, Sasuke’s feelings were outweighing that purpose.

He turned his back and peered out the small window at the darkening sky. He glanced back at her briefly before turning back to the window. “Are you okay?”

There wasn’t a reply which had the Uchiha worried and he turned to see her wide-eyed expression at his question. The face Sakura was making looked as if Sasuke had grown two heads. “I mean,” he added quickly, “with a mouth like that, it looks difficult to breath.”

She immediately covered her mouth and frowned at him, obviously embarrassed at his words. “I ah fine!” she shouted in embarrassment into her fingers and turned her head. Sasuke resisted the urge to smirk.

. . . . . . . . . . . . .

After the administration of the antihistamine, Sakura didn’t wait long before she began removing her own IV. She felt bad for the time that had been wasted today when she was supposed to be making the food pills. Sakura was just relieved that the Ashu had been tested before she gave Sasuke a drug that could potentially kill him.

“What are you doing?” Sasuke asked as she removed the monitor and turned off the flatlining machine before anyone came in at the sound. “They said it would be best to stay the night.”

“I’m ah do-ter” she told him. Yes, Sakura would have advised the same thing to her patients, but she was out of danger now and she felt anxious despite her drowsiness. She was troubling Sasuke enough by accompanying him on his mission. She didn’t want to get in his way; she was supposed to be making things easier.

Sasuke scoffed at her dismissive, mumbled declaration as she stood from the bed. She blinked heavily and managed to stand upright. It would still take a little bit of time for her to completely pass out from the side effects, so Sakura figured the time she had left awake could be spent productively.

The medic immediately went over to the cabinets and pulled out disposable gloves and a mask from the drawer. The mask would serve two purposes: 1) protect her from inhaling the Ashuwa as she worked and 2) hide her ridiculous “tomato” mouth as Sasuke referred to it. Ugh. Sakura could die from embarrassment.

“What are you doing now?” Sasuke grumbled irritably, following her as she moved. She immediately headed over to the mortar on the cabinet and pinched some of the yellow herb, skin protected from the substance thanks to the gloves.

“Eat.” She stated plainly. They couldn’t proceed further if Sasuke was likely to have a similar allergic reaction. Sakura would have to scrap their entire progress by disposing of the food pill batch. She would be back to square one and they would have to start all over by finding a new foundational herb with the correct properties to achieve the correct results.

“Forget it,” the Uchiha deadpanned before making to head for the door. Sakura caught hold of his hand, stumbling in the process and taking a hard fall on her knee. She winced visibly. That would bruise later. Sasuke immediately turned and helped her up and Sakura thanked her mask for hiding her blushing cheeks as well.

With the same hand Sasuke had offered, Sakura turned his palm up and placed the Ashuwa in his cupped fingers. “No time.”

Sasuke glared at her for what seemed like several minutes before reluctantly dumping it down his throat. They both knew he had to for his own sake.

Sakura nodded before trashing her gloves and retrieving a new pair. She couldn’t risk leaving traces around the hospital and anyone else coming into contact with the pollen if it was responsible for anaphylaxis. Mako had said that it was such a common reaction that they had stopped using it altogether.

Sakura halted in her steps, considered her plan, and decided to grab the entire box of disposable gloves. She handed Sasuke the mortar.

Sasuke gave her an expression that radiated annoyance but somehow was miraculously completely blank. If she could speak clearly in this moment, Sakura would have asked him how he managed that.

“Fowwo” she murmured through her mask-covered lips, pairing the word with a beckoning wave. “We’ll tesh your weaction why we wait.” She was shuffling out the door before Sasuke had the chance to say anything more.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke trailed his teammate from the room, carrying the mortar of Ashuwa he had ground up earlier that day. This was one of the few times in his life that Sasuke somewhat regretted his decision to refuse the artificial limb that Tsunade had made for he and Naruto. Sakura was walking with one arm against the wall for support and Sasuke’s one and only hand was currently occupied.

It was well after dark now and many of the staff members were busy attending overnight patients, so they weren’t stopped by anyone as Sakura found her way back to the medicine room, which was now cleaned of broken glass and everything back in its space. She reached up and grabbed several bottles of adrenaline and then dug through the drawer for syringes.

“Sakura,” Sasuke began as she dropped some of the things she was holding onto the floor. “You need rest. We can finish this later.”

“We hafe to wait for weaction anyway. Might as well make the pills.”

“I feel fine.” Sasuke reassured her. It was true. Time had passed enough for his fingertips to develop a rash if there was going to be a topical reaction. He had yet to show signs from consumption.

Sakura strode past him again, this time walking backwards to face him. He could make out a smile beneath her mask which somewhat irked the Uchiha. She seemed awfully cheery despite nearly dying from anaphylaxis. Sasuke concluded that it had to be the medicine making her drowsy.

“Turn around before you fall,” he grumbled. She laughed as she began to walk slowly up the stairs. He hurried up behind her and offered her his elbow which she took thankfully despite his huffed “So annoying.” Her laugh was her only response.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura was practically nodding off as she watched Sasuke mix and prepare the batch of ingredients for the food pills. She felt relieved at finally seeing headway as Sasuke rolled the batter into 1-inch circular doses according to her instructions and placed them in the hospital’s oven. Sakura had tried to do so herself, but Sasuke had insisted she sit down to avoid screwing them up and risking their progress. Sakura allowed him to take the reins, praying desperately that the food pills would turn out and serve their purpose after such a hassle.

“Sasuke,” she whispered, immediately touching her lips behind the mask as she noticed the decrease in swelling. The ice Sakura had retrieved from icebox was doing its job.

“Hm?” he answered, trashing the latex glove he used to protect his skin and replacing his own. He turned to her then in the dim light, but Sakura couldn’t make out his expression because the only light in the room was a lamp over the counter workspace behind him. There was a shadow concealing his features and Sakura was too tired to try to make them out.

A lot easier now that her lips were shrinking, Sakura asked, “How are you? Any shortness of breath?”

“I’m fine,” he stated simply.

“Good,” she replied, thanking that ridiculous Uchiha blood of his for not reacting to the Ashuwa like her’s had. How ironic, Sakura thought, that even Sasuke’s genetics seemed to be working for him even in this circumstance. How superior he must feel.

Reclined across the small seating bench in the corner, Sakura placed her chin on her chest and inhaled the gentle night breeze that was coming from the opened window. It seemed to be the first night that the sand wasn’t trying to shatter the glass; to be honest, Sakura was surprised that the hospital windows even opened. Perhaps they were high enough on the fourth story to avoid the sand barrage.

Sasuke came to stand before her and Sakura blinked sleepily up at him in an antihistamine induced haze.

“Sleep,” the Uchiha before her ordered. “I’ll wake you when they’re done.”

Sakura wanted to argue that she could manage to stay awake for another 20 minutes while the chakra pills roasted, but she wasn’t that confident in her ability to do so. At most, she could manage maybe 5 more minutes if she concentrated hard enough. She wanted to ask Sasuke about the conversation he had with Satou.

“Sit with me,” she said, but it sounded more like a question. There was a minute of silence as Sasuke observed her. The bench wasn’t roomy, but Sakura was too drowsy to be apprehensive about their proximity. Sasuke must have not been either, because he sat and exhaled when he did so. Perhaps he was tired too.

. . . . . . . . . . .

Sasuke tried not to lean away from her as she settled into his side. He cursed her medicated self for such confidence in a small, darkened space. He counted down the time in his head; he would only have to stay seated here for 17 more minutes. For some reason, that time seemed both entirely too long and entirely too short.

“Satou,” Sakura began, reaching up to take off the medical mask on her face. Sasuke tried not to smirk at the lips that were still puckered despite having minimized in size. He blinked past the image to focus on her words.

“Hn,” he responded sourly, thinking of the man whose name had just been dropped between them like a heavy, unwanted stone. Sasuke didn’t particularly feel like talking about that man. He had, had enough of Satou for one day.

“How did it go?” his teammate probed politely despite being nosey.

“Fine,” he replied shortly, not wanting Sakura to find out about too many details. How would she react if she knew he had used his Sharingan on him? Probably not well. Sakura would continue to dig for more specifics if Sasuke didn’t bring an end to the topic promptly. “His son needs to be sent to Konoha.”

Sakura nodded, not seeming too surprised at Sasuke assessment. Perhaps she had been thinking similarly. “Thank you for talking to him.”

It wasn’t much of a talk, but Sasuke wasn’t going to tell her that, so he just responded again with a finalizing “Hn.”

Sasuke couldn’t help but jump when Sakura’s fingers touched his right hand. “Sasuke,” she began, almost in sleepy inquiry as she brushed his palm with her thumb and index. There was hopefulness in her voice and Sasuke cursed her medication again for her damn self-assurance.

“I..” she began, but Sasuke cut her off before she continued. Sasuke was almost absolutely certain that he knew which words would come next.

“Shh,” he replied, leaning comfortably into her side as his answer to her unspoken confession. “Just sleep.”

After a few breaths, and when Sakura’s head nodded onto his shoulder, Sasuke scooped up her hand into his, finding the courage to splay her fingers with his own and fasten them into place. Even when he would let her go in 15 minutes, Sasuke would lock the moment into his heart to last him the rest of his life.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

When he counted down to the last second in his mind, Sasuke counted a few extra seconds. And then a few more. He thought about letting the doses of chakra pills burn to a crisp in the oven, but he decided against it, reluctantly releasing Sakura’s hand and pulling away from her heavy head.

Making sure that Sakura wouldn’t wake, Sasuke silently rose, turned off the oven and retrieved the pills from inside. He placed them on the counter quietly and turned to lean against the counter. He watched Sakura’s sleeping form for a few minutes, considering if he should wake her as he promised or let her sleep longer. What was the possibility of sitting beside her and stealing a few moments more?

Sasuke knew he was playing a dangerous game. Tomorrow, the Uchiha would test the chakra pill nearby and he and Sakura both were aware of what would happen after that. With the issue of his chakra reserves addressed, he would return to the desert to attempt cross-connecting dimensions again. They both realized Sasuke couldn’t waste any more time.

And with that thought, Sasuke’s stern resolve slipped. He would distance himself later, he thought. He would put the space back between them tomorrow. Tonight, Sasuke wanted to be next to Sakura.

He sat back down beside her and softly took up her hand again. Just for a little while longer.

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Sakura woke in the middle of the night from the pain in her arched neck. She blinked past sleep and realized that she was folded into Sasuke’s side with her knees tucked and Sasuke’s head leaning against hers. Not only that, but Sakura froze as she realized her hand was entwined with Sasuke’s between them. The moment was fragile, and Sakura almost cried of joy and then heartbreak as it shattered when Sasuke responded to her shifting.

The weight of his head on hers lifted and Sakura tried not to grab desperately at him to keep him from moving. Instead, Sakura pivoted her eyes to his as his sleep faded and realization appeared on his face.

Sasuke released her hand and stood hurriedly, saying nothing despite how Sakura’s heart wanted answers. She wanted to know if this moment was genuine or if she had been the one to hold onto him in her sleep. Sakura wanted to believe desperately that Sasuke had allowed himself to be transparent for just a moment and had secretly revealed his true feelings for her by holding her as she slept. Had that been the case? Was she being too optimistic? This wouldn’t be the first time their hands had touched. Had he been supporting her as a friend, or did he feel something more? She had to know.

“Sasuke,” she began, but he cut her off for the second time that night.

“Good. You’re awake. Let’s go.” He declared, hastily placing the finished chakra pills in an open travel container on the counter.

Sakura stood then, heart racing and adrenaline pumping as she worked up the courage to come up behind him as he worked. She wasn’t going to confess this time. She was going to ask Sasuke if he had been confessing to her while she slept?

“Do you… love me?”

Sakura was almost certain that he stopped breathing altogether as he paused his task. The Uchiha took a minute to compose himself before exhaling. “When are you going to stop that?”

The statement was meant to be cold, but the fact that it came out so desperately low gave Sakura a rare feeling of hope despite the words. “When are you?” she responded calmly in a whisper.

“What?” he asked incredulously, finally turning to her.

She gradually took the last few steps between them and stood carefully in front of him. “When are you going to stop pretending that you have no feelings for me?”

Sakura expected a scoff, a ridicule, but what she got in return was painful fear in Sasuke’s usually expression-less eyes.

It was true, she realized. Sasuke did have feelings for her. There had been so many signs, but Sakura had been unsure about all of them until this very moment. But what had just passed between them was confirmation. Sakura almost lost her breath at the realization.

“You’re mistaken,” finally came the blunt retort, but it was too late.

Sakura was already closing the inches between them. Her fingers were already brushing his cheeks as she brought his face to hers. She hesitated. Just for a second. Just long enough for him to pull away from her. But Sasuke barely took a breath before Sakura touched her lips to his.

#approaching sun #sasusaku #sasuke and sakura #sasukeshinden #sakura hiden #Sasuke Uchiha #Sakura Haruno #ssfanfiction #sasusakufanfiction #blank period #naruto #naruto fanfiction

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whatareyousearchingfordean · 4 years

Text

Happiness Begins

Part 13

Summary: Jensen and the reader find time in their busy schedules to go out on a second date.

Word Count: 4.9K+

Warnings: Language, a brief discussion of emotional abuse, protected sexual intercourse, oral sex (male receiving) 18+ only

Author’s Note: I just want to start off by thanking everyone for their patience with this one. Things have been hectic in my life and my anxiety has been on high, which for me means I shut down anything that requires more than 10% of my attention. Anyway, I hope this makes up for it. As always, I love to hear what you think, so don’t be shy!

Catch up with the series masterlist and check out Alexandra’s Library for more works by yours truly!

The apartment was still dark when Y/n unlocked the door upon her return. She could tell Jared had yet to return, as he usually leaves a trail of evidence when he does. He would have left out something he pulled from the kitchen to munch on, or more likely, he would have left a light on. It was a bad habit of his, not turning off the lights, which drove her insane.

She sighed with relief realizing he had yet to return. As she made her way to her room, she hung up her coat on its hook. She didn’t turn on a light until she was in her room. It took her no time at all to strip out of her clothes and into some warm pajamas. As she moved across the hall to the bathroom to remove her makeup and wash her face, she realized that she couldn’t stop smiling. It was a small smirk that refused to leave her lips. She bit her bottom lip, trying to will it away, but that only seemed to make it grow. And it was all Jensen’s fault.

It had been longer than she cared to admit since she had been on a first date that was as amazing and theirs. Her first dates usually consisted of bad small talk and not enough alcohol. Granted, they also tended to be the only dates she would embark on. Her mother wasn’t lying when she said it had been a long time since she had a serious relationship. Since Alec, she had only ever ventured towards friends with benefits relationships. Their breakup had broken her, for a long time. It took her years to gain back the self-love and confidence that she possessed today. And that still was nothing compared to what she once was. The emotional abuse she experienced at his hand made it nearly impossible to trust any guy enough to let him close to her. But with Jensen, she didn’t need to let him in. He had somehow found his own way in without her even knowing. He didn’t know everything, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care if he found out. The truth behind her break up was one that she didn’t even tell her family. Her mother couldn’t understand why she hadn’t had a boyfriend since, and Y/n couldn’t blame her for that. No, it was Y/n’s fault for not telling her. But Jensen… Jensen was safe and calming, and she found she would tell him anything he wanted to know. They had a lot to learn about each other, but she had never been more excited about it.

Her phone screen was lit when she came back into her room. She shut off the lights and crawled into bed with it. There were a few messages from Jensen.

I had a good time tonight, regardless.

Did you decide if I can take you out again?

She chuckled to herself as she read. He was the softest guy she had met. But she couldn’t let him get off that easily.

I had a nice time too. And I decided that you cannot take me out.

She watched as the bubbles popped up immediately, indicating he was curating his reply.

It was the baseball analogy wasn’t it?

A snort fell from her. He would bring that up.

Yeah, and well, I figured that I should repay the favor this time. Let me take you out. A girl’s gotta woo her man too.

His reply came quickly again.

Oh, so I’m your man now?

Don’t get ahead of yourself Ackles, it’s a figure of speech.

Ouch... that hurt, Padalecki.

Somehow, I think you’ll forgive me.

Always. Now get some sleep, I’ll talk to you tomorrow, and you can tell me all about this date you have planned.

She didn’t want to admit the clutch that his reply had on her heart. Jensen always somehow knew exactly what to say, even if she didn’t know it was what she needed. She bid him goodnight before plugging her phone into its charger and snuggling into bed, her grin even wider than before.

****

Commotion in the kitchen jolted her into consciousness the next morning. She could hear voices talking, their timbre low. Curiosity got the better of her, and she climbed out of bed to see what the ruckus was. She wiped the sleep from her eyes as the sunlight from the common room of the apartment hit her when she opened her bedroom door.

“Ah, look who decided to grace us with her presence.” From her angle in the hallway, she could see Jared pouring out a shake from his blender into a cup. He had on his workout out gear, likely ready to head out to the gym.

“Us?” Her voice was timid as she made her way into the kitchen. As she made her way down the hallway, she could see the ‘us’ in which Jared was referring to.

“Yeah, us.” Jensen spoke up from his seat at the island bar top. He was also clad in workout clothes, a water bottle sitting on the counter in front of him.

“Well, I would still be sleeping if you two weren’t making the most noise you possibly could out here.” She growled at her brother as she made her way over to the coffee maker. She could feel Jensen’s eyes on her as she poured some coffee into a mug. His gaze was making her feel self conscious in her state of undress. Granted, he had seen her naked, but that was a far cry from the dried drool in the corner of her mouth, and the rats nest that was currently her hair.

“It’s almost eight o’clock. This is sleeping in for us.” Jared pointed out as he turned to her.

“Ugh, you and your facts.” She grumbled and took a sip of her coffee. The liquid warmed her body on its way down, and she had to fight the clichéd sigh. Jensen chuckled from his place at the counter and her eyes flickered to his for the first time. She glared at him, having hoped to hide pre-coffee Y/n from him for a little longer than this. There was no going back now, she supposed.

“Please tell me you two are going to the gym to leave me in some peace and quiet.”

“We were just heading out, your majesty.” Jared bowed in front of her. “I just have to grab my jacket.” He skirted off down the hall and into his room. His absence left her a small window of opportunity to mess with Jensen a little. Sure, she respected his wishes, but that didn’t mean it wasn’t frustrating. How could you not look at the man and be frustrated? She was a warm blooded American woman after all. Two could play at this game.

Y/n made her way around the island and stopped to lean an elbow on the counter, putting her right in Jensen’s line of sight.

“You know, if you wanted to see me again so soon, you could’ve just asked.” She kept her voice low, as Jared had left his door open behind him.

“I did, and you said no remember?”

“No, I said you don’t get to take me out. There is a distinct difference there.” Jensen narrowed his eyes, trying to pick up on what she meant. “Chew on that a bit.” With that she pushed off the counter and headed back for her room. Jensen was a smart guy, and she knew he would catch up with her at some point.

As she passed the desk in her room, she picked up her laptop and climbed into her bed. Today was her day to catch up on things for her business. She had a photo shoot that was coming up soon that she needed to finalize details for and book a plane ticket to New York. They had a lot to get done before Ashley went on maternity leave, and she was determined to do it. That had been their compromise after the whole debacle. They were to shoot everything they needed now, and it will be strategically posted to both of their social media profiles later when the collection launches. They were exceedingly lucky that their schedules lined up perfectly. She had a long weekend off from filming soon, and she needed to take advantage of every opportunity that she could.

Once she settled all that, she would dive into planning something special for Jensen. Who says that a guy has to do all the romantic stuff in a relationship? Equality and stuff, right? She was determined to figure something out, and she liked to think that she knew him well enough to make it a night to remember.

The task was harder than she anticipated. Jensen just wasn’t a gooey guy. He was a Texan boy and though that meant he was a gentleman, it also meant that getting him back for making her cry was damn near impossible. Not to mention, as much as she hates to admit it, he knew a lot more about her than she knew about him.

Eventually she gave in, deciding that she would go with the humor approach. She was going to make him laugh until his ribs ached and ply him full of alcohol. They will have a damn good time if it killed her. The place she had found to take him to was a dive to say the least. Definitely a place the Winchester brothers would find themselves on a crack hunt. But that was part of the charm of the evening. As well, it meant it would be less likely someone would spot them. All she needed was to wait until Jared was out of the way.

****

It was a quiet day on set. They were working on a few scenes on the bunker stages, which meant no fun work for her. She was mostly present to make sure the guys didn’t get too shiny. Hell, even Trish had the day off. That’s how little her services were needed.

She sat in one of the uncomfortable cast chairs, her one leg crossed over the other, bouncing mindlessly as she scrolled through social media. The director called cut and she hopped up from her spot to run and check on Jared and Jensen.

Jared sat down on the map table so she could reach him. “I wish you could come home this week with me.”

She smiled at her brother with a slight roll of her eyes. “You’re just saying that so I can babysit for free while you and Gen do things I want to know nothing about.”

“Hey, the kids miss you.” Jared acted offended by her words.

“Wow, you aren’t even denying it.” Jensen piped up from where he stood next to them. He crossed his arms over his chest with a smirk.

With an exaggerated gasp, she pointed the brush in her hand at Jensen. “Yes! Thank you. Just hire a babysitter like normal people and leave me out of it.”

“Whatever, smalls. You’ll understand one day when you have kids. And I won’t be there to bail you out when you and your baby daddy want some alone time.” Jared stood as she indicated she was done with him. Her nose wrinkled at his choice of words. Out of all the terms he could have used, he went with ‘baby daddy’?

“Fine by me, wanna know why? Cause I’ll have hired a babysitter.” She shoved his shoulder when he rolled his eyes at her. Jared’s action only served to fuel her annoyance with him, her jaw setting while she thought of some retort, but Jared was too quick for her.

“You know you seem a little cranky. When was the last time you ate?” She frowned, knowing it would prompt him to run off to the food table and get him off her back. “I’ll go grab a snack really quick. Jensen?” Jared raised his eyebrows as he turned his attention to Jensen. Jensen just shook his head as she glared at her brother. Jared disappeared from the set, leaving the two of them forgotten as the crew worked to set up the next scene.

“You know, you and Jared’s bitch faces are disturbingly similar.” Jensen said as she indicated for him to sit as well. As she tucked away Jared’s makeup and swapped it for Jensen’s, she stuck her tongue out at him.

“Probably the dimples.”

“That’s exactly what I was thinking!” He grinned as he looked up at her. Her heart stuttered in her chest from his gaze. Every time he looked at her like that, it seemed to take her breath away. It was hard to describe, but the simple adoration and the way his skin crinkled at the corner of his eyes just did something to her.

“So, Jared leaves first thing tomorrow morning, and I was thinking, if you were interested, we could go on that second date.” Her voice lowered as she finished her sentence. Both of them glanced around their immediate area for any prying ears on the set.

“I would love that.” Being next to her was growing increasingly difficult. Jensen was fighting every instinct inside him that wanted to reach out and touch her. Especially considering they hadn’t had a moment alone since their first date, and that was two weeks ago. There wasn’t even a small chance to sneak a quick peck to her lips. He was seriously reconsidering his adamance about keeping sex out of the equation. And she wasn’t helping the situation, either. She was antagonizing him, that he knew for sure. Women did it all the time around him. Swaying their hips and ensuring that their breasts were the best accessory to whatever outfit they chose to wear. He refused to play her game though. Taking things slow was the hardest decision he had ever made, but his previous relationship patterns were consistent. Each one started out hot and heavy, and each one burned out before they even had the chance to see the light. Even though whatever it was they had going between them was new, he knew that he did not want this to turn out like all the others. Something in his gut was telling him this could be different, and he was determined to keep them from fizzling out.

“Good, I’ll text you.” Her voice brought him back to the moment. He had to remind himself to just take it day by day. To take in each moment as it comes. He was committed to remembering the little things about their time together. Like the way the tip of her tongue was now fixed in the corner of her mouth as she concentrated on her work. Or the obvious excitement in her voice at the prospect of setting up their next date.

“So banana or apple?” Jared appeared next to them, popping the bubble they had unintentionally disappeared into. Y/n snapped closed the powdered foundation in her hand and kept her gaze on Jensen.

“Oh, banana for sure.”

****

“I’m kind of regretting keeping you in the dark for our first date right now.”

“Stop worrying, you’ll have fun.” She whined for the third time that evening. She had only given him as much to go on as he had given her for their last date, and it turned out that Jensen was an even bigger baby about surprises than she was.

“I’m sure, but I’m just curious as to why you insisted that I wear jeans and cowboy boots.” Jensen fiddled with his legs, looking down at his weathered leather boots on his feet.

“Ah, but it’s all part of the fun. Besides, the wait is over, we’re here.” Y/n pointed out the windshield as their uber turned into the gravel parking lot. The building that they had pulled up to was, for the most part, nondescript. The only hint as to what was inside came from the various neon signs that indicated the brands of beer they sold.

The deep bass of the music playing inside could be heard as the two exited the car. Jensen still had a skeptical look on his face as she came around and grabbed his hand to drag him inside. The chaos that reigned behind the door hit them in the face as they entered the bar. The long bar on the south side of the building was the main focal point as they made their way inside. It sat directly across the way from a stage where a live band was currently playing something neither of them recognized. The theme inside was anything but subtle, and he immediately recognized where they were.

“Really? A honky tonk bar?” Jensen had a wide grin on his face as she turned back to him.

“Well, you can take the girl out of Texas…” She trailed off, not needing to finish her idiom. Her lips were pursed as she tried to fight her smile. “You like?”

“You know, I think I do. This is honestly the last place I ever expected, but man I do miss home sometimes.” Jensen continued to follow her to a few open seats at the bar. He slipped his arms around her waist as she flagged down the bartender and ordered two beers and four shots.

She slid two shots to Jensen and kept two for herself when they arrived. “Here’s to Texas.” She held up the shot and Jensen tapped his own against it.

“God bless Texas.” He agreed before the both of them downed the amber liquid. Y/n immediately picked up her second shot and threw it back with a hiss. She shook out her head as she fought against the burn in her throat.

“Come on Ackles, keep up.” She picked up the large pint of beer and disappeared into the crowd of people dancing. Jensen smirked to himself before throwing back his second shot and setting off after her, his own beer in hand.

****

The front door to Jared’s apartment flew open, bouncing off of the small decorative table that had the unfortunate incidence of being placed where it was. The small potted plant that sat atop it shook in its place from the force.

Jensen and Y/n were attached at the lips as they stumbled inside. His hands fumbled to find the handle to close the door behind them as he refused to separate from her. A giggle fell from her lips as he growled in frustration and finally relented. He fastened the deadbolt before turning back to her. With a breath, he allowed himself a second to take in her flushed cheeks and kiss swollen lips. Even after a night of dancing, drinking, and yes, bull riding, she looked as beautiful as ever. It was corny as shit, but there was nothing he didn’t love when he looked at her. And right now, he felt like the luckiest guy in the world.

“What?” Her self-consciousness picked up under his intense stare. She couldn’t help but wonder if she had something on her face.

“Nothing, just admiring the view.” He answered honestly. An eye roll was her only response. Jensen always said sappy shit like that, but she would be lying if she said that she didn’t love it. Frankly, his open affection was uncharted territory for her. Sure, she had slept with her share of willing men, but both of them were just looking to get off. Niceties were not on anyone’s minds. With Jensen, it was different. She could actually feel the admiration, and to describe the way it made her feel would be impossible. Words cannot express that warmth.

“You’re not half bad yourself, Ackles.” She purred as she took his hand and pulled him down the hall. He followed happily, allowing her to drag him through the door and push him down onto the edge of the bed. She snuck her way between his thighs, hovering over him. His heavy eyes flitted up to hers as he drew his neck back to look up.

“This view looks familiar.” She cocked her head before catching his lips in hers again. The high of feeling his barely chapped yet still pillow soft lips against her was one she would chase over and over. It radiated heat throughout her, only to be intensified where his wide palms rose to rest against her hips.

“Y/n-”

“Shhh,” Now was not the time for talking. No, she just wanted to feel him, to be able to commit these moments to memory. Including his heaving chest and lust blown eyes. And Jensen didn’t have any will to object to it either, not when her fingers were tugging on the soft hairs on the base of his skull, the action getting him more and more excited.

He chased after her lips as she sank down to her knees in front of him. He lifted his feet at her insistence, allowing her to pull off his boots and socks. Both of her hands pulled back her hair to toss it over one of her shoulders before she raised back up off of her calves. Heavy breathes fell from Jensen as he leaned back and supported his weight with his arms behind him and watched her reach for his belt. The metal jingled as she pulled it open, not once taking her eyes off of the half wrecked man in front of her. There was a smug satisfaction at knowing how undone he had come already, and she hadn’t even touched him yet.

A hum of contentment left her lips as she continued to take off Jensen's jeans and briefs while he took care of his shirts. “Did I mention how lucky I am?” She asked him as she lazily stroked his half hard erection.

“Jesus,” He groaned and ran his hand over her head and through the locks along her shoulder. “You have my cock in your hand and you’re the lucky one?” Her only reply was a gentle nod of her head before she wrapped her lips around his reddened tip. Jensen sucked in a breath at her sudden warmth before letting it out in a low moan.

It was like a symphony to her ears, the noise jolting her core with arousal. “Mm, lucky.” She asserted as she coated him in her saliva and took as much of him in her mouth as she could. Jensen was making delicious noises as she worked him over, sucking him for all he was worth. In no time, his thighs were clenching against her sides and she could tell he was close. With a soft pop, she took her mouth from his throbbing cock. Jensen whimpered, fully frustrated by her removal before he fell back on the bed in a heap.

“Oh my…” He watched her as she shed her own clothes and went in search of a condom. She motioned for him to move up the bed and tossed him the small packet she had secured.

“You can call me Y/n.” She drawled in a bad southern accent. The bed bounced as she playfully jumped onto it. The movement gave Jensen temporary issues as he worked to secure the condom on himself. Once it was finally on, he moved to sit up, but she stopped him, pushing him back against the comforter. His rough hands found her waist as she straddled his hips. She bucked forward, rubbing her dripping pussy against his cock, causing both of them to hiss.

“How’s about I call you amazing?” He smiled up at her as her right hand fell onto the bed next to his head. She kissed him deep and swift, savoring the taste of his tongue in her mouth and his breaths mixing with her own.

“That works too.” She supposed, lining him up with her entrance and sinking down. Her chin fell to her chest as he stretched her, cascading her hair into a curtain around their faces. The tip of her tongue was turning white where she had it clenched between her teeth as she tried not to cry out. Her memory of that first night had not done either of them justice. It was hazier than she had thought, because she was sure she would have accurately remembered this feeling. Frankly, she was kind of pissed that she hadn’t gotten the clear picture. Sure, she had felt it in the morning, but that was nothing compared to the fullness she was experiencing now.

“You good?” Jensen had his knowing smirk on as he repeated the phrase she had chastised him for that first night. Without a word, she fixed her hair back over one shoulder before she raised her hips up and lowered them back down in a slow, calculated movement. Jensen grunted, his fingers digging into the soft curve of her hips.

“Are you good?” Jensen laughed at her quick retort. That was a fair response, he assumed, as she repeated her movement. Quickly, she had to adjust her support, moving her hand higher near his head and bracing her left hand against his chest near the base of his throat, before she could set a pace with her hips.

The room quickly filled with the sound of her skin against skin mixing with her deep moans and Jensen’s heavy breaths. He had planted his feet, meeting her thrust for thrust, his hands helping to bring her back down to him. Jensen took over every sense she had, and she wanted nothing more than to freeze this moment right here and hold onto it for as long as she could. Fire was now burning through her veins as the coil tightened in her belly. She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to last, her body racing to the edge.

“Y/n,” he warned her through gritted teeth, not needing to say anything else. A loud moan that emanated from the back of her throat was all she could offer him in confirmation that she was right there with him. “You’re doing so good baby, riding my cock. Come for me, Y/n.”

She captured his lips again as she finally fell over the edge, her pussy clenching tight around him. Their mouths met in heated tongue and teeth as Jensen gave her another few good thrusts before following her off the cliff and emptying himself into the condom. Under trembling legs, she forced herself off of him and dropped in a sweaty heap on his right. Her hands searched him out as she worked to slow her breathing, her fingers eventually making their way through the longer locks on the crown of his head. Her gaze fixed on the paint lines across the ceiling as she allowed herself to come down.

“You know, I thought you were going to fight me on this.” She mused as Jensen rolled over her, his arm folded against her stomach to support his head just below her ribs.

“What do you mean?” He asked as he kissed her sternum, just below her breasts.

“The whole, ‘let’s not make this just about sex’ thing. I just thought you wanted to wait.”

“We did wait… for the second date.” He joked before turning serious again. “Besides, it’s harder to argue when you don’t believe your own words?” He had a content smile still on his face as she played with his hair. She searched his face for any hint he may be lying to her, but she couldn’t find anything hidden there.

“Okay, I just didn’t want you to feel pressured. I didn’t pressure you, did I?”

“No, no pressure.” He promised with another kiss against her sweaty and flushed skin. Jensen laid his cheek against her belly, her fingers still in his hair. The two remained that way in silence for a moment or two before Jensen spoke up again.

“What did you mean earlier, when you said you were lucky?” His brow furrowed as he adjusted himself to get a better look at her face.

“Hmmm, well, I was referring to the fact that millions of girls would pay out the ass to be on their knees in front of you, and I got to do it for free.” She had to cut the moment with an ounce of humor. Jensen pinched her side as he frowned at her. She yelped before squirming out from underneath him. “I’m serious, if this acting thing doesn’t pan out, you could make a killing.”

“You’re not funny you know that?” He tried to chase after her, but she was out of the bed before he could blink. He threw one of her pillows across the room at her. She caught it with a huge smile and headed back to the edge of the bed.

“I’m hilarious.” She countered and tossed the pillow back to him before jumping back onto the bed. “For real though, I don’t think I could even express to you just yet how lucky I feel right now.”

Jensen accepted her answer, inviting her back to his side. The two of them snuggled back into each other, content to just listen to the sound of their own breathing. That was until something hit him.

“We really need to stop fucking in Jared’s homes.” He wrinkled his nose and she fell into another fit of laughter.

“Could be worse, it could have been his bed.” She got out in between breaths.

“Yeah, well, I like my head attached to my body.”

A/N 2: I struggled with whether or not I want to make the reader’s previous relationship abusive, because I don’t like the idea that she needed something horrific to happen to her to push my plot agenda. Eventually though, I came to the unfortunate conclusion that the fact remains that it is an unfortunate reality for a lot of women, and that I can make it about more than just a plot device.

If you or someone you know is suffering abuse at the hand of a domestic partner, I want you to know that there is help. Visit https://www.thehotline.org/help/ for more information.

Part 14

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helloalycia · 4 years

Text

hey, stranger | lena luthor

summary: after Lena leaves for National City shortly after her brother's attempt to kill Superman, you're left to learn to live without her. Until a year later, when you find yourself as CatCo's new junior photographer and discover Lena Luthor owns the company.

warning/s: none.

author's note: buckle in folks, this is a long one

masterlist | wattpad

One Year Ago...

"Look, I know that what happened was terrifying, and I can't even begin to imagine what it must have been like, but Lena, you can't just leave."

The raven-haired woman avoided my eyes as she crossed her arms nervously.

I felt a pressure on my chest at the mere thought of her leaving Metropolis, and stepped forward to lace my fingers with hers.

"You're not your brother, and people will see that," I told her, my stomach doing somersaults when her glassy green eyes stared up at me. "They just need time."

She swallowed hard. "I don't want to wait for the rest of Metropolis to play catch-up. I can help better the world in National City, where there's a fresh start and a different Super there that hopefully won't judge me on the premise of my name."

I frowned when I heard her say that with such determination and ferocity, as if she'd given it much thought. It was too late, I knew that voice. It was the voice she used when she'd truly made up her mind and there was no convincing her otherwise.

"Y/N, I love you so much," she spoke again, grabbing my attention when she pushed a strand of hair behind my ear and stepped closer to me, our bodies pressing together gently. Her eyes were bright and piercing as she continued, "I need you to know that you are one of the few good things I have left in my life, probably the only good thing." She chuckled dryly and rested a hand on my cheek. "I know that I'm not the easiest person to be with–"

"Lena, I've never thought that," I cut her off instantly, shaking my head. "Don't say that."

She smiled sadly, glancing down to the floor. "Look, I know that what I'm saying sounds insane. But I need this fresh start. I don't think I can stay here, having this constant reminder about what Lex almost did."

I knew where she was going with this, but she was beating around the bush. My heart was crumbling with each second passing, but at the same time, I felt a small sense of relief that Lena may finally have the chance to be truly happy elsewhere, without the immediate ties of her family.

"I'm not asking you to come with me," she finally said it, eyes meeting mine as a tear dropped down her face. "You have a life here. A job. Friends and family. You can't just pick up and move with me."

"I could try," I said, a little hopefully as I gave her a small smile.

She shook her head, her voice cracking. "I wouldn't let you."

I breathed out slowly, feeling a lump form in my throat. "When are you leaving?"

She sighed regretfully. "Tomorrow."

I raised my eyebrows with surprise. "Tomorrow? Lena, you can't be serious! I thought you meant a few weeks, maybe a month, but–"

"I know, I know, but if I stay longer, it'll only be harder, and I'm afraid that I may change my mind," she cut me off, holding my arms now. "It's better this way." She leaned down to find my eyes, certainty shining through. "Y/N, it's better this way."

I pursed my lips, my eyes watering as I realised how real this all was. She was really going to leave and I wasn't sure when I would next see her again. If I would see her again.

"We still have today," I said, a statement rather than a question.

She flashed me one of those rare beautiful smiles she had, only reserved for me. "We do."

I lessened the gap between us by leaning forward and going in for a kiss. I didn't spend long thinking about it, knowing I didn't have time to waste. I pressed my lips to hers in a passionate kiss, wrapping an arm around her waist and another on the nape of her neck.

Her floral perfume filled my nose as she kissed back, lips agape as she sucked on my lower lip. It was a salty kiss and it didn't take long before I realised we were both crying into it.

We pulled apart for air and I squeezed my eyes shut for a moment, feeling my warm tears soak my face.

"I'm really gonna miss you, Lena Luthor," I admitted, forcing a smile on my lips.

She sniffled adorably, wiping away my tears. "I'm really gonna miss you, too."

***

Present Day...

"I'm Y/N Y/L/N, the new junior photographer," I introduced myself to my superior.

"Oh, shoot, you're here," the head of the photography department, Mr. Rodriguez, said startled.

I knitted my eyebrows together with confusion, a smile still politely on my lips. "Er, yeah... should I not be?"

His mind seemed like it was racing a million miles a second. "Yeah– no! I mean, no, you should be. You're in the right place. It's me who's all jumbled up..."

He headed to his computer at his desk as I awkwardly stood by the window, waiting for further instructions.

He tutted to himself. "Sorry about this. My assistant wrote you in my diary to be showing up tomorrow. I had a whole thing planned and everything."

"Oh, I'm, er..." I didn't know what to say though, as I remembered clearly getting a call asking to begin today.

"It's not your fault," Mr. Rodriguez said, waving a hand dismissively before looking up from his computer. "She's new, you see. Still getting used to the computer systems."

"I guess I can come back tomorrow," I offered awkwardly.

"No, no, that would be silly, you're already here now," he said quickly and apologetically. "I'm just thinking..." He crossed his arms with thought as he began to mumble to himself. "I've got several meetings today... Sasha is out sick... Nick could– no, no, he's out working on a story... so is Jamila and Markus..."

"You sure you don't want me to come back tomorrow?" I asked again, feeling like an inconvenience.

He looked up as if suddenly remembering I was stood there. "What? No, of course not." He glanced at the clock on his wall before widening his eyes with realisation. "Follow me for a second, will you, Y/N?"

I had no choice but to follow the older, slightly baffled photographer, as he led me outside of his office. His office was an all-glass box essentially, as every other office in this place was. We stood outside the door a moment and I took in the hustle and bustle of CatCo's newsroom for a second time that morning. I wondered what we were waiting for when Mr. Rodriguez seemed to have an idea.

"Kara! Kara, can I borrow you for a moment?" he called out, stepping forward to get some blonde woman's attention.

The blonde stopped walking and greeted Mr. Rodriguez with a chirpy smile. "Yes, sir?"

He seemed to breathe out with relief as he checked his watch. "Kara, I'm sorry to do this but my assistant messed up my schedule and it turns out that the lovely Y/N Y/L/N, my new junior photographer, has showed up and I am unprepared."

I awkwardly smiled at the blonde as she glanced my way.

"Do you think you can show her around the place? Just until lunch and then I can make time to do things properly."

This Kara woman seemed unsure as she laughed nervously. "I'm only a reporter, sir, I don't think I'd be the best person to–"

"Please, Danvers, I'll owe you one," Mr. Rodriguez said with a pleading smile.

"I really don't mind coming back tomorrow," I chimed in, looking to him. "This seems like a bad time. You're really busy and–"

"It's okay, I'll do it," Kara cut in, smiling at me.

"Yes, Danvers, you're a life-saver," Mr. Rodriguez exclaimed before looking to me. "I'm very sorry for the unprofessionalism, Y/N, especially on your first day, but I will make it up to you at lunch. Meet me in my office at half twelve?"

"Of course, sir," I said with a smile. "You should probably go, don't want to be late for your meeting."

His eyes widened with realisation. "Right! You're absolutely right! I'll see you ladies later."

I suppressed a laugh as he speed-walked away, leaving me alone with the reporter.

"Is he always that panicked?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.

Kara chuckled. "Yes, he is. It's probably best you saw him like this. Now you know what you're getting yourself into."

I snickered. "So, your name is Kara?"

"Kara Danvers, yes," she introduced with a smile, putting out her hand.

I shook it and returned the smile. "Nice to meet you, Kara. I'm Y/N Y/L/N."

"The new junior photographer," she filled in jokingly.

"Right," I agreed with amusement.

"Well, I guess I'm your personal tour guide for the morning," she said, before motioning around us. "This is the kitchen."

I laughed at her lame joke. "Look, I can totally make myself busy until lunch if you have stuff to do. I didn't know Mr. Rodriguez would ask somebody to help me."

"Nah, it's fine, I don't mind," Kara said dismissively. "I used to be an assistant for Miss Grant, so I'm pretty familiar with this place, including where you'll be based."

"Wow, assistant for the boss, huh? That must have been... an experience."

Kara laughed as she led me around the newsroom. "I guess, yeah, but I learned a lot. Miss Grant taught me things I wouldn't have picked up elsewhere and..."

***

"That was James Olsen," I said with amazement. "I just met James Olsen."

Kara suppressed a smile. "He's kind of the guy in charge around here. If you weren't introduced to him, it would be strange."

"You know he took the first ever photo of Superman, right?" I said, glancing at Kara, still a little starstruck.

"Yes, I do know that," she said, crossing her arms and watching me with an amused smile.

"His photography is amazing," I rambled on. "He's got so many great shots of Superman, and now Supergirl as well. He manages to capture the most heroic moments in a single photograph without fail. It's amazing."

"I know that, too," Kara teased. "You said all of that and more just a moment ago when we were in there."

I felt my face grow warm with embarrassment. "Right, right, sorry..."

Kara laughed at my dismay, patting me on the shoulder. "It's alright. Besides, I think I've almost shown you everything. There's a few people I can introduce you to though, if you want. It might make settling in here a bit easier."

"Oh, wow, yeah, that sounds great," I said appreciatively. "Thanks."

"No problem," she said happily, before adding, "I think my friend, Nia, might be free to–"

"Kara!"

Kara looked over my shoulder and a smiled brightly at whoever was there. "Lena, hey!"

I widened my eyes, unsure if I'd misheard the name or not. I turned around and forgot how to breathe for a second, realising I hadn't. Because none other than Lena Luthor was stood before me, her smile fading as her eyes flickered to me from Kara, flashing with recognition.

I swallowed hard, before offering a small, friendly smile. "Hey, stranger."

She looked stunning, absolutely radiant. Just as I remembered, save for her hair which had grown a little longer. My heart was suddenly remembering what it was like to be with her, beating up an uncontrollable rhythm in my chest.

"Y/N," she finally breathed out, recovering from her momentary shock. "You're here."

"National City is a big place," I said, feeling like a teenager with a crush as her green eyes were trained on me. "I didn't think I'd see you."

"I own the company," she said quietly, still surprised.

I raised my eyebrows. "Wow. I didn't–" I cleared my throat, "–I didn't know that."

"Wait, you two know each other?" Kara asked, and I forgot she was standing there until she spoke up, looking between us with a puzzled expression.

I licked my lips and stayed quiet, not sure what to say. Thankfully, Lena spoke up for the both of us.

"Y/N is an old friend of mine," she said carefully, eyes never leaving mine. "Back from Metropolis."

Kara's mouth was agape with confusion, but she didn't speak. I could feel her looking between us both with much intrigue.

"What are you doing here?" Lena asked, cocking her head to the side, eyebrows furrowed.

I straightened up as I found my words. "I'm the new junior photographer. Today is my first day."

"Oh, well, congratulations." She seemed like she was still catching up with everything, as was I. "Have you met James Olsen? He was our lead photographer and art director before being promoted to CEO." She glanced behind me at his office before nodding that way. "I'll introduce you, come on–"

"Lena, it's fine, Kara already introduced me," I said, smiling appreciatively. "Thank you though."

Lena bit her lip and nodded, before looking down to her shoes uncomfortably.

"Anyway," Kara began, filling the silence, "is there anything you needed, Lena? I'm not on my lunch break yet, but–"

"There's no rush," Lena said, shaking her head. "I just came to check on things. I needed to speak with James about a few things." She glanced at me, adding, "Er, we're going out for lunch, if you'd like to join us? I mean, you don't have to, but if you'd like, you can..."

This whole situation was so out of the blue and neither of us could ignore the awkwardness between us right now.

"I've got plans with Mr. Rodriguez, but thank you anyway," I declined politely, forcing a small smile.

"Okay, yeah, of course." Lena nodded before smiling at us both. "I should get going."

"See you later," Kara said with a wave and a smile.

Lena returned her smile before looking to me, her eyes softening. "It's nice to see you again, Y/N."

"You, too, Lena."

I watched as she walked away, before releasing a breath when she was out of sight. It was just like we'd met for the first time all over again, myself feeling butterflies in my stomach and unable to get her piercing green eyes out of my head. And here I was thinking a year would make a difference.

"You okay?"

I blinked and looked up, realising Kara was staring at me with concern. I put on a smile and nodded.

"Yeah, sorry, yeah. I just– I didn't think I'd see her again. At least not today."

Kara seemed hesitant as she stayed quiet for a moment, before finally saying, "I'm guessing old friends means something else in Metropolis..."

My smile faded as I nodded. "Yeah..."

Kara led me away, the two of us walking down the hall.

"Are you and Lena, er–"

"No, no," Kara said, reassuringly. "We're just friends. Best friends, actually."

I felt embarrassed for even thinking I had a right to know. "Sorry, it wasn't my business."

"It's okay, don't worry about it." Kara flashed me a small smile. "She's not with anyone right now by the way."

I raised an eyebrow and Kara gave me a knowing look, as if she knew what I was thinking.

"Come on, I'll introduce you to Nia," she changed the subject, thankfully. "She's a reporter here."

I nodded and followed Kara, but I would be lying if I said Lena hadn't plagued my thoughts.

The last time I'd seen her was just over a year ago, when we'd said our goodbyes before she left. It was a hard goodbye, a hard breakup in general. I loved her a lot and knowing she was moving away to be someone better hurt because I couldn't stop her. I would never stop her. But I couldn't leave with her either.

We were friends long before we were a couple, so we made sure things wouldn't be weird when we broke up. Of course I still had feelings for her, but we agreed to try and remain friends.

It worked for a while. We would text and occasionally call, whilst she was settling into National City and turning L Corp around. But then the calls were fewer, and the texting lessened, and before I knew it, we'd lost touch. I wasn't sure if it was because maybe we both knew it would be easier and hurt less, to not have each other at all if not in the way we wanted, or if it was because we were getting busier, but it happened.

When I stopped freelancing as a photographer and decide to apply for a permanent position somewhere, the job from CatCo practically fell into my lap and I couldn't turn it down. I genuinely didn't believe I'd bump into Lena – this was a big city! But of course she owned the company. Just my luck.

***

I'd been in National City for a few weeks now and hadn't seen Lena since that first awkward encounter. I wasn't sure whether to be offended or not, since we were friends before being a couple so I at least thought we could pick up where we left off, but that was naïve of me.

I was enjoying my job at CatCo and already had a few things in the works with the help of Mr. Rodriguez. I'd also befriended Kara and a few of her other friends – Nia and James. It was still weird that I was 'friends' with James, since he was such a talented photographer and I couldn't imagine it, but it was great. They were a fun lot to be around at work, along with a few other photographers in my team.

My latest assignment was covering an L Corp gala, which wasn't my first choice, but I couldn't argue with it. Thankfully, the reporter I was partnered with was Kara, so I wasn't entirely uncomfortable. Apparently Kara had covered a lot of Luthor-related stories, so was the best person for the story.

So, that's where I found myself now, standing in the doorway of a massive ballroom, full of important-looking, rich business professionals. The gala was a charity ball, raising money for children's hospitals around National City, that Lena owned. I felt proud of her when I looked around and saw the impact she had made by moving here. She was certainly just as determined as I remembered her to be.

"This is very fancy," I commented aloud, feeling a tad bit underdressed in my dress pants and blouse.

"Wouldn't be a Luthor event if it wasn't," Kara joked, before nudging me in the arm. "Come on. Let's have a look around."

I followed Kara as we showed ourselves around, myself looking at the best vantage points for some nice shots, as well as subtly wondering if Lena was around.

Eventually, I left Kara to do her interviewing as I wandered about, taking photos of everyone. There was a lot going on, so it wasn't hard to find interesting subjects. I spotted Lena at one point, mingling with other guests. I almost forgot I was supposed to be taking photos when I saw her because she looked amazing.

She was wearing an elegant off-shoulder black gown and her long dark hair was sleek and straight, shining under the lights. I could make out the bright green of her eyes from the other side of the room and I had to remind myself that I was there to do a job before I began to drool.

I snapped some photos of her, maybe a few more than necessary, but she looked beautiful and I couldn't help it. I took more photos of everyone before deeming it enough and settling on a table on the 'quieter' part of the hall.

I was snacking on some of the hors d'oeuvres as I looked back through the photos I took when I heard Kara call my name.

I looked up mid-bite into a salmon puff when I saw Kara approaching me, Lena in tow. I straightened up and finished chewing my food before smiling at both women.

"Hey, Kara," I greeted, before meeting Lena's gaze. "Lena. This is a lovely event. You've done an amazing job."

Lena smiled bashfully. "If there's anything rich people love more than lavish events, it's lavish events that showcase their charitable donations."

I cracked a smile – her sense of humour hadn't changed.

"You get any good shots?" Kara asked, nodding to my camera.

I looked down at it. "Yeah, I was just looking through them."

"Can I...?" Lena smiled as she motioned to my camera.

I nodded a little too enthusiastically. "Yeah, yeah, of course."

She stood beside me, a little closer than I expected, or maybe it seemed that way because I was holding my breath. She accepted the camera from my hands and began to flick through the photos. She was smiling down at them all, nodding with approval.

"Still as talented as I remember," she muttered.

I didn't even realise she'd spoken because I was too busy taking in her profile. The sharpness of her jawline contrasted with her long dark hair pushed behind her ear was distracting, and I felt my mouth go dry when she looked up at me, dark eyes suddenly staring right at me.

"Huh?" I spluttered, unintelligibly.

She laughed and rolled her eyes playfully. "Never mind, Y/N."

I felt my face grow warm. "Sorry, I'm just... is this strange? Me and you?"

Lena cleared her throat and suppressed a smile. "If it's strange, it's my fault, sorry. I should have greeted you properly a few weeks ago. I really wasn't expecting to see you again."

"Me either," I said, shaking my head. "No need to apologise. I think we both thought it was a little weird... but it is really good to see you again." I glanced around. "You've achieved a lot, Lena. And I have a feeling this isn't even the half of it."

It was Lena's turn to get embarrassed as she avoided my eyes, smiling to herself. "Thank you, Y/N."

It went quiet for a moment, a comfortable silence between us, until Lena looked up and lost her smile.

"I know that things ended a little... suddenly between us, but I never intended for us to stop speaking." She frowned a little. "I don't really have any excuse for why we stopped. But I am sorry it did."

"Hey, it takes two to tango," I joked to lighten the mood, making her glance up at me. "We both lost contact with each other. It happens. But I'm here now, and you're here, and well, maybe we could try and be friends again. If you want, that is."

A beautiful smile graced her lips as she nodded. "I'd like that."

My heart skipped a beat at how her eyes lit up. "We can get coffee and catch up, if you'd like. I'd love to hear about all you've done this last year."

"Coffee sounds great," Lena agreed. "And it's not just me who's been up to new stuff. I wanna hear all about how you ended up at CatCo."

I chuckled. "It's a date." I widened my eyes when I realised what I said. "That's not what I meant, sorry. It's just a plan and–"

Lena's laugh cut me off. "Y/N, it's fine, I know what you meant."

I nodded, a little flustered. I soon realised we'd been talking a while and Kara was nowhere to be found.

"She left a moment ago," Lena said, realising I was looking for her. "Between me and you, I think she got us together today for a reason."

"She cares about you," I pointed out. "She seems like a great friend."

Lena nodded, smiling nostalgically. "Yeah, she is. One of the first I made when moving here."

"Come on, we should probably chase her down and let her know we're good."

"Lead the way, Y/L/N."

***

Lena and I followed through with our plans, meeting up for coffee to have a big catch up. It was amazing hearing all she'd achieved in the past year. I wasn't surprised in the slightest however, as I knew that if anyone could do it, she could. It was also lovely to see her look a lot better, health-wise. When she left, she was still shaken up about what Lex did – it was reassuring to know she'd recovered, even slightly.

We hung out a few more times, mostly with Kara, Nia and James present, but it still felt good to see her at all.

Kara even invited me over to her place one evening, claiming she hosted a weekly game night and would love if I joined. That was where I met Kara's sister, Alex, and their friend, Brainy. The two worked for the government, but weren't as serious as they let on.

Nia and James were also present, along with James' sister, Kelly, who was also Alex's girlfriend. Lena was there, too, and admittedly, I looked forward to seeing the raven-haired woman yet another time.

"Charades?" Alex suggested, already grabbing the bowl of charade ideas.

Everyone agreed and naturally got into teams. They'd been playing a while, so it seemed that they had teams organised in advance. The Danvers sisters were one, the Olsen siblings were another, and Brainy and Nia (who had been flirting all night) were the last, leaving Lena and I to pair up.

"Is that okay with you guys?" Kara asked, realising we had been left to team up. The blonde had been hesitant in pushing us together too much when we hung out, clearly worried about pressuring us into anything. It was thoughtful and I'm sure Lena appreciated it as much as I did.

"Being partnered with the smartest person in the room?" I asked rhetorically. "Why would that be a problem?"

Kara seemed taken aback as everybody laughed. Lena nudged me in the side jokingly, just like old times, and Kara finally came to her senses and grinned.

"Game on, Y/N," she played along, before standing up. "Alex and I will go first."

The Danvers sisters performed alright, managing to get eight points in the 60-second round. Next up was Lena and I.

"You wanna go or should I?" I asked, glancing at her.

"You go, you've always been better at it than I have," she said, ushering me to stand up.

I chuckled and stood up, readying myself.

"And... go!" James said, starting the timer.

I grabbed the first slip of paper. Water bottle.

I furrowed my eyebrows, wondering how one could act that out, but nonetheless, I locked eyes with Lena and began to make a drinking motion.

"Glass!"

I shook my head and repeated the action, emphasising it a little.

"Water! Glass of water?"

I repeated the action, motioning to the 'bottle' in my hand.

"Water bottle!"

"Yes!" I shouted back, before moving onto the next slip of paper.

Watching a romantic comedy.

"Ooh! Okay, okay, er..." I sat down on the floor, looking ahead at the TV as if I was watching it.

"Watching TV," Lena guessed.

I pretended to laugh one second and then cry another.

"Watching a comedy!"

I wiggled my hand to show she was almost there. I made a love heart with my hand and did the whole thing again, hoping it would make sense.

"Watching a rom com!"

"Yes! You got it!" I shouted with a grin, before moving to the next one.

Finding Nemo.

I began to make the whale noises similar to how Dory does in the film and Lena guessed it instantly.

She laughed as the others were watching eagerly, curious to if we would mess up or beat Alex and Kara.

Scuba diving.

I pretended to dive off the couch onto the carpet and she guess it immediately.

"Five more to go and thirty seconds left," Nia reminded us.

Hide and seek.

I covered my eyes and began counting backwards from ten.

"Hide and seek!"

Walmart.

I wasn't sure how to act that out, so I said, "Er, that, er, the shop opposite the McDonald's down the street!"

"Walmart!" Lena said with a laugh.

"Can she do that? Talk in the game?" Brainy asked as I moved onto the next slip.

"Technically she didn't say the answer, so yeah," Nia said with a shrug. "Three more left and twenty seconds, guys!"

Having a bright idea.

I pointed to one of the light bulbs above as and motioned to it on my head, making a 'ding' noise with my mouth.

"A bright idea?"

"Yes! Okay, er..."

A penny for your thought.

I dug out a penny from my pocket and held it up before pointing to my head.

"Penny for your thought!"

"Okay, how is she getting these?!" Alex complained, mildly confused.

Kelly laughed at her girlfriend as I moved onto the next one.

Coconut.

"Shoot, er..."

"Five seconds left!" Nia called out.

"That thing your car ran over on our second date!" I shouted, meeting Lena's eyes and hoping she'd understand.

"Three!"

"Oh! Er, it was..."

"Two!"

"Come on, Lena!"

"One!"

"A coconut!"

"Time's up!" Nia called it, and I looked to her to see how many points we got. She looked at her point system before sighing disappointedly. "Nine points."

"Yes!" Lena and I shouted with excitement, and she stood up to embrace me in a hug.

We were laughing as James tried to get our attention.

"You drove over a coconut on your second date?" he asked, probably for everyone, and all eyes were on Lena and I as we remembered it like it was yesterday.

"Look, I don't know how it got there, or where it came from," Lena began, a hint of amusement in her voice, "but we were driving back from this restaurant when I drove over a bump or something."

"We stopped to take a look and it turns out it was a coconut," I finished, shaking my head. "Weird time. But yeah."

Everybody seemed confused, but Lena and I exchanged amused knowing glances.

"Okay, well you two aren't going to be partners next week, since it's unfair how well you work together," Nia commented, before standing up. "Brainy, it's our turn."

Lena grabbed my hand and led me to the couch, the two of us sat side by side watching the others have their go. I didn't even realise we were still holding hands at first, then I felt the warmth from her skin touching mine and smiled to myself. Friends could hold hands, so it wasn't a big deal, but it felt right. I had missed this.

***

Some time passed and any hint of awkwardness between Lena and I had disappeared. We were friends, like we used to be before we got together, and it was nice. I tried to ignore any old feelings that were trying to resurface when I was with her, and I assumed it was working since I hadn't done anything stupid to ruin what we had.

It did feel good to spend all this time with her as well. I'd forgotten what it was like to have her in my life, to have someone with me who understood me. We had inside jokes, memories, time spent where we knew each other inside and out. It was almost a relief to have that, knowing we didn't have to start from scratch.

I guess it was always expected – we'd loved each other dearly. That couldn't be erased, not even after spending a year apart.

A few months into the midst of this friendship, I was at CatCo, in the darkroom processing photos from my camera when I heard a knock on the door.

"Y/N? You in there?"

I recognised the voice as Lena's and called back, "Yeah, you can come in, just be quick!"

The door opened and closed quite quickly, barely a sliver of light creeping into the room thankfully.

"Woah," Lena said, looking around.

"C'mon, you've been in a darkroom plenty of times," I teased with a half smile, glancing up at her.

"Not for a long time, actually," she retorted, playfully glaring at me.

I grinned at her as she joined my side, watching as I hung up some prints I'd just processed.

"So what's up?" I asked, glancing between her and what I was doing.

She was distracted by my hand movements, finally looking to me when I spoke. "Huh? Oh, right. I was wondering if you wanted to get lunch with me. I was free, but now I think you're a little busy."

"No, lunch sounds great!" I said, smiling at her. Her eyes were dark in the red light, yet they made my stomach do somersaults nonetheless. "I just need to finish these last prints. You can stay if you want."

Lena nodded and watched as I moved some more prints from the stop bath to the water tray.

"Where are these?" she asked, looking at the photos hung up already.

"That rally downtown," I remembered. "A few days ago, I think."

"Oh, right."

I glanced at her, watching as she stared at everything with awe. I smiled, admiring how adorable she looked. She always used to do that whenever she'd join me, back when we were dating. No matter how many times I showed her, she still found it all fascinating.

"You want a go?" I asked, earning her attention.

Her head darted to me as she raised her eyebrows. I nodded to the prints that needed 'washing' and she nodded.

"Sure, what do I do?"

I handed her a pair of metal tongs. "Just pick that up," I pointed to the first tray, "and put it in here." I pointed to the second tray. "But first, hang that print up on the line above so it can dry."

She did as I said and I watched to make sure she didn't spill any of the chemicals on herself or her fingers.

"Okay, just a few more here," I said, pointing to the last few prints. "You think you can handle it?"

She rolled her eyes at my playfulness and I smiled as I watched her finish up. When she finished, she set the tongs down on a paper towel. I spotted a little bit of developer solution on the counter and spotted the rest of the paper towels on the side, next to Lena.

I rested a hand on her back as I leaned over her, grabbing the paper towel. I cleaned up the last spot and tossed the paper towel in the bin, about to speak, but I was surprised when I looked to Lena and saw her move forward quickly, pressing her lips to mine.

She pulled me close by the waist and kissed me hard, making my heart beat faster and faster in my chest. I relaxed into her embrace, resting a hand on the side of her face. She moved closer, my back hitting the counter behind me as she swiped my bottom lip with her tongue.

It was like we hadn't been apart when she pulled away for a second, before reattaching her lips to mine. I was still surprised and I knew I should have stopped us, but my heart was saying otherwise as I kissed back, missing the taste of her lips against mine.

She slipped her tongue between my lips and I let out an unsolicited moan, definitely knowing I should stop this now.

"Lena," I breathed out, managing to part our lips for a second, but she reattached them in an instant, and I almost gave in all over again when she began to suck on my lower lip, enticing me with her Luthor charm.

"Lena," I tried again, using every ounce of willpower to pull apart from her.

She finally listened and pulled apart, her eyes meeting mine apologetically, realising what she'd done. "I'm... I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I assured her, tucking a loose hair behind her ear. "That was... unexpected."

"I actually wanted to do that for a while," she admitted, eyes flickering to the ground. "I tried not to, but I couldn't not do anything..."

I felt a little hopeful as I watched her. I couldn't help but blurt out, "I think I'm still in love with you."

This got her attention, as she looked up and searched my eyes. "You are?"

I nodded slowly, holding my breath for her response.

She pursed her lips, raising her hand to caress my cheek. "I think I'm still in love with you, too. I don't think I ever stopped."

I smiled as she looked between my eyes. I always felt a sense of calm when looking in hers, and I guessed some things didn't change.

"I really missed you when you left," I admitted. "I tried really hard to get over you, but I don't think I did. Not really."

"I missed you, too," she muttered. "I hated that I left you."

"You didn't do anything wrong," I said, shaking my head. "Sometimes, the timing is off. But I'm here now and I think that maybe the timing is in our favour again."

"Are you saying you want to try this again?" Lena asked, a hopeful smile on her lips.

"Well, it's either that or we make out every now and then without any real resolve," I joked, and she laughed, smacking me in the shoulder before pulling me close again.

"Nothing will get in the way of us this time," she said confidently. "I won't let it."

I wrapped an arm around her waist and smiled down at her. "You do tend to get your way."

She smiled and leaned into me, her head fitting into my shoulder. I held her close, closing my eyes and smelling that familiar floral scent of her perfume.

She pulled back and met my eyes, a sense of relief present in them.

"I'm really glad you're back," she said softly.

My heart was still pounding in my chest as I smiled at her. "Me too."

#lena luthor x reader #lena luthor #lena luthor imagine #supergirl imagine #supergirl x reader #supergirl #katie mcgrath

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