“How did the meeting go?” Suki asks instead
“She wants to pull her son out of UA” you answer
“I don’t blame her”
“I don’t either”
“Then why do you sound so sad?”
“... Because that kid will never forgive her if she does”
“You did the right thing.” Suki says.
After a life-threatening battle, All Might must now live as Yagi Toshinori, for the first time in decades. Refusing to separate himself from his mission, Toshi commits himself to play pretend- as his own secretary.
But the politics of internal affairs may be too much for the now limited hero- especially when his mentor starts to suspect that 'Mr Yagi' might be hiding a very large secret from them.
Sent to the goddamn Bronx. An intelligence assignment on a cop-killer, they said. Bureau suspected notorious street car gang, The Demons—and Los Angeles Agent Novak had been placed deep undercover to find if there was any truth to the notion.
Civilian clothing and an eight o'clock shadow later, it was time.
He drove up 79th in the pound acquired '57 Chevy, slowing and pulling in near the greased up boys loitering outside Singer's Mechanics.
Then, Novak saw him.
He'd known this gig would be trouble. And it was, he found, soon after. Big trouble, that spelled:
Part 2: Dean
Some mook pulled up, eyes blue as denims and a face just as rough, but man, them wheels were smooth as—
"Hey, ol'man! Them's my wheels! The hell you doin' with my car?!” Dean yelled, jumping to attention and checking the wheel trims of the Chevy in front of him, the one he knew was his Baby.
Blue Eyes just shrugged. Kept those peepers fixed on Dean, though. Made him squirm in both the bad and the good ways.
“Bought her offa some crooked cop, name of Ketchowski,” Blue Eyes spoke lazily in a West Coast drawl. Maybe Cali. “Told me he'd kill me if I even whispered his name. So. Guess I'm a dead man, huh?” and he brought a finger up to his stubbled throat, tipping back his handsome head and slitting open an invisible wound.
Dean's mouth watered. He wanted to taste that invisible blood. Taste him.
Shaking his head, Dean tried to focus. But it was real hard with this blue-eyed, silver-winged fella, now licking at chapped lips and gazing at him like a damn angel fallen from Heaven... Dean now had to try very hard to not think about things being hard. Goddammit.
“Listen up, silver-wings. This here Chevy? She's my Baby. Daddy died goin' on a year back now. And apart from my little—” but Dean stopped short mid sentence. This mook didn't need his life story, no matter how good lookin' he was. Besides, Dean had to keep quiet about Sammy or someone would surely come to take him away. He had to keep Sammy safe. Had to keep him safe from...
Dean took a last drag on his smoke, flicked the cherry, and tossed the dimp into the metal trash can next to him.
“Look, here, Mister. I'm gonna be straight as a die with ya, here. This car? She's all I got left. So. You an'me? We gonna cut a tidy deal, yes sir. Capisce?”
Sliding long fingers through those silver wings above his ears, smoothing out already smooth hair, Blue Eyes just smiled without smiling.
Then, “Well? I'm listening,” he challenged, raising a brow.
Hmm, Dean thought. Maybe just a little fun wouldn't hurt...?
@helianthus21, @bend-me-shape-me and @pray4jensen... remember this? Well, here's the Agent Novak companion art as was promised (all your fault @nerddivision, you hero) PLUS bonus drabble: the meet scene but from Teddy Badboy Dean's POV.
He’d gone and fucked up again. Waking in Levi’s arms, Eren knew he’d basically kissed his pride away by inviting Levi to bed with him. Not to fuck, but to sleep. He’d passed out on Levi the day before, then made the alpha wait to eat until some time ridiculous in the middle of the night. It felt like with Levi he could finally relax into his pregnancy and enjoy himself that little bit more. Levi would be going home today, and yet he’d stayed. He’d stayed the night, because he’d asked him too.
Eating pizza while they washed Levi’s clothes, Levi had lamented the state of the apartment buildings basement laundry. Eren having to keep changing topic to keep Levi from cleaning the space more than it deserved. Had the landlord kept on top of things then the building wouldn’t be down to two washing machines and one dryer, and he may have considered doing them all a favour by letting Levi loose on space. Catching up on how everyone was, things almost felt like how they’d been. Hannah calling Levi “grandpa” would never not be fucking hilarious. Isabel had found it funny too, but he’d hurt her with the way he’d left them all behind without saying goodbye. Their anger at him taken by Levi who never said a word in his own defence. He’d let Levi see into his life, while hiding away the problems with his pregnancy thanks to the way Levi had kept apologised to the point he wanted to shake him by the shoulders until his ex boyfriend was back to normal and had stopped pissing him off.
Sighing softly, Eren didn’t want to climb from Levi’s hold, despite his internal terror over this “fuck up”. For the first time in months he finally felt he’d slept enough during the night. He hadn’t woken up with his usual headache, or to his nose bleeding, or to find he’d slept ever so slightly wrong that he’d basically broken his body for the day. That had to do with Levi’s pheromones, that was the only possible explanation for waking up and feeling actually truly okay. He’d forgotten what it felt like to not hurt... yet he sorely regretted inviting Levi to bed when Levi wasn’t acting like himself. He was softer. He didn’t swear as much, with not every second word was “shit”. The alpha really had perfected how to work shit into a sentence more times than should be possibly, without sounding uneducated in the slightest. Hell, he hadn’t seen Levi go for a cigarette since he’d gotten to Nedlay. Eren knew Levi deeply regretted things, but Levi not being Levi weighed on him. Letting Levi in wouldn’t work if Levi was only doing what he thought Eren wanted him to do to let him back into their lives. They’d pushed and pulled each other, were crass and blunt, crude to the point other people would be disgusted... yet, affection had built up over time and mutual respect along with it. Neither wanted to hurt each other, yet neither of them were the type to simply roll over.
Lying there with his face against Levi’s chest, this had once been to one of his favourite position to sleep in. Neither of them had to worry about a face full of hair, or wandering hands and “accidents” below the waist because their dynamics had consideration for personal boundaries. After all the shit they’d been through, simply lying there listening to Levi’s heartbeat had calmed so much inside of him. The rage that simmered beneath his skin, left from their kidnapping could be cooled by the fact Levi was safely in his hold. For Levi the position was too intimate, especially when Eren had his leg over Levi’s crotch pinning him in place against him... Once again showing the lengths Levi was going to because he thought he had to.
“Tch, brat. I can hear you thinking”
He hadn’t noticed Levi waking up. Nor could he easily admit he’d been going around in mental circles over the man
“Mmm... I’m thinking about work. Our labs weren’t marked as urgent so there’s a back log...”
An annoying backlog but that’s what happened when so much shit happened in the world and only a handful of people to deal with it
“You’ll figure it out. Did you sleep well?”
Yeah. He had...
“Passed out like a shitty fucking drunk”
“That’s good. You can take the first shower”
“Tch. Sounds like you’re throwing me out”
He was and he wasn’t. Levi wasn’t staying. He couldn’t ask Levi to stay while he thought things through. Not when his scent filled him with the stupid unthought through need to go simpering back to Levi
“Some of us have work today”
“I know, brat. Do you need the bathroom first?”
“Yeah. She might be small but she already owns my bladder”
Levi’s hand slipped to Eren’s bump, fingers gently splayed over it
“Pretty sure she’s got you wrapped around her tiny finger already”
The touch of his compatible partner felt too nice. If he didn’t get up now, he’d be probably do something else to regret
“She does... I’m going to hit the bathroom. My alarm hasn’t gone off yet so there’s no need to rush”
Having breakfast with Levi felt too domestic. Levi deciding to cook while Eren made his extra large cup of coffee. He knew he shouldn’t be drinking coffee, and that’d he probably regret it later at work when he needed another one, but he wasn’t having that bad of a morning and kind of felt he deserved a treat. Levi didn’t mention anything about him dressing in his leather jacket and boots, nor did he tease him about his concerns over riding his bike to work. He had enough saving to buy a shitty car, but didn’t have the will to give his bike up. His bike was his alone time. Sure, he was alone at his apartment, yet that was different kind of alone. Frying eggs and tomatoes, breakfast was simple. Simple and domestic... Not at all as awkward as he’d thought it’d be given how they’d woke up holding each other.
Walking Levi down to the curb, it turned the alpha didn’t have to worry about him taking his bike. The back tire flat, and not going anywhere seeing he didn’t have enough time to deal with it before his shift started... So when Levi offered him a lift, Eren accepted. His omega didn’t want their alpha to leave again. There really was only one choice for that made both of them happy, yet that choice still couldn’t be rushed. Dropping him at work, the way Levi was looking at him... fuck, the alpha didn’t want to go as much Eren as didn’t want him to go either. When Levi asked if he could call, Eren accepted... then asked the alpha to be at his next scan. Two more weeks. Two more weeks of seeing if they could some how figure things out, then he’d give Levi his decision.
Heading up to the office, Eren didn’t think about the fact he was covered in Levi’s scent, nor that he hadn’t covered his own glands. He felt like shit that Levi had left again, yet having slept so well, he was ready to throw himself into working his case to the best of his ability. Armin noticed right away that his mood seemed too good, his best friend wheeling himself across the room as Eren dropped himself in front of his desk, still thinking about Levi with a dumb smile stuck on his lips
“What have you done with Eren?”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“First you totally blew me off yesterday, then you show up smelling like an alpha and all smiles... Does this mean what I think it does?”
There went his smile. He hadn’t sprayed himself with canceller, not that it would have done any good in Levi’s car
“Nope. I had the best nights sleep in ages and had to get a lift to work because my shitty bike has a flat”
Armin hadn’t been around Levi enough to know Levi’s scent off by heart. Deflating, his best friend pouted
“Here I was thinking you two must have made up... Did you bring your scans? I wanna see my baby niecphew”
Shit. He’d left his scans in Levi’s car... He’d moved them into the glovebox when they’d gone shopping and clean forgotten about them. His new prescriptions were in there to. Fuck...
“Fuck. No... Shit, I have to make a call”
“That’s nice. How could you forget to include me? I’m the favourite uncle, Eren. I need this”
“I know. I left them in the car on the way here. I need to see if the driver can drop them back”
“Idiot. Baby brain strikes again”
“I’ll baby your brain. Fuck... I’ll be back”
Retreating to the privacy of the bathroom, Eren thanked god he hadn’t forgotten his phone either. Levi probably would have driven straight back from Trost if he’d found the paper work when he got home. He needed to send him a photo of their baby too... The alpha making so much of an effort that it hurt. Bringing up Levi’s he tapped on call. Being Levi, he’d probably ignore his phone while he was driving, still, hopefully he hadn’t gotten too far. Getting Levi’s message bank, Eren groaned at his own stupidity. He already had to pay extra seeing not all antibiotics were safe during pregnancy. Leaving Levi a message was the best he could do.
Leaving Eren at work had hurt. His alpha in a mood over the fact they were driving back to Trost without their omega. Before meeting Eren, Levi had functioned on a few hours of sleep when it was necessary. Then his brat had come along and shown him how good a night’s proper sleep was. He’d slept like the dead with Eren next to him, his ex so soft and warm, still snoring his head off in a way that made Levi envious. Waking up to Eren in his arms, he hadn’t wanted to get out of bed. He’d wanted to linger there and soak as much as he could before he’d be deprived of Eren all over again.
Hearing his phone ring brought Levi out of his huff. Erwin hadn’t contacted him the previous day, so a call from his best friend was past due. On the off chance it was work related, the alpha pulled out of the morning traffic into the parking bay of some random diner. The drive back seemed as if it’d be more miserable than the drive to Nedlay. He’d seen their baby... he’d seen their baby and now he felt he was abandoning her and Eren all over again. Grabbing his phone up, his stomach dropped at having missed a call from Eren, unable to not jump to the worst case scenario that Eren had been playing along all morning and now he wasn’t face to face with him, the omega didn’t want him to come back...
Growling at himself for being a coward, Levi skipped opening the voice message and went straight to calling Eren. If there was something Eren had to say, he could say it over the phone before he left town and didn’t have a chance to talk to Eren face to face about what he’d done wrong. Eren must have been waiting by his phone as the omega answered on the third ring
“Thank fuck. Did you get my message?”
Now Levi wished he’d just grown a pair and checked
“It just same through”
“I’m sorry. I totally forgot I put the scan papers in the glove box. You haven’t left Nedlay, have you?”
Oh... If there was an award for being a shitty moron who leapt to the wrong conclusion, they might as well crown the alpha king
“Nah, brat. Let me check”
“Thanks. I forgot to take a photo of the scan and send it to Armin, and I need my prescriptions from there too”
Using his shoulder to hold his phone to his ear, Levi leaned over to pop the glove box. Eren’s papers the only thing in there other than a half pack of cigarettes
“You’re lucky I didn’t ignore my phone. I thought Shitty Caterpillar-brows was calling to pry. Yeah. They’re in here. Do you want me to drop them off or do you want me to pick your scripts up first?”
Eren seemed to think far too long before replying, Levi hoping he hadn’t just crossed a line and made Eren think he didn’t trust him to take care of himself
“Actually, if you could pick them up, that’d be awesome. It’s just antibiotics and something for my headaches, but I don’t think I’ll have the chance to go today... I need to pick up the brakes for Armin’s car and a new tube for my bike...”
“Tch. It’s fine. I’ll give you a call when I’m at the precinct so you can come pick your shit up”
“Thanks. And thanks for the lift this morning. Armin would have been on my case if he’d had to leave work to pick me up”
“Armin might have a point there. I need to find a chemist then I’ll be ‘round”
“Thanks. I owe you. And if you want to take photos of the scan that’s fine too. Knowing my damn baby brain I’ll forgot to send them if you don’t”
“You don’t mind?”
“Nah. She’s your baby too. I’ve got to go, but I totally owe you for this”
“It’s fine, brat. Try not to get into trouble”
“Like you’re one to talk. See you soon”
Eren had no idea how much it tickled Levi’s alpha’s pride to be useful. He’d cleaned the brat’s apartment up while Eren had a nap, surprised to find most of his favourite cleaning supplies had made their way into Eren’s daily life. Then again, it wasn’t like the same hadn’t happened with him. Coffee now living amongst his copious amounts of tea thanks to the occasional craving that came from living with Eren as long as he had. The shit was cheap and nasty, but Eren seemed to love it, and he’d sort of brought it back when he’d first returned to Trost with his tail between his legs.
Using his phone to find a chemist, Levi had to explain to the pharmacist he was collecting the prescription for his pregnant boyfriend. The man hesitant to dispense the medication as he wasn’t Eren. It was a small lie that tugged on his heart. He wanted to brag his arse off about how beautiful his mate was, with his alpha unhelpfully agreeing. Eren wasn’t his. He didn’t own him and he’d barely come back into his ex’s life, had Eren heard him he’d probably have kicked him to the curb for being a shitty lying dickhead. Then again, for all the times he thought about Eren pushing him away, he also knew Eren wasn’t the type to simply do that.
Wandering around the store as he waited for Eren’s prescriptions to be filled, Levi found himself paused in front of the baby stuff. There were too many options. Where were the things for alphas who had no shitty idea what they needed? How did parents know what to buy when they’d never done this shit before? Despite the changes in packaging, it all looked the same. Did he buy Eren something? Would that be too much? Had Eren’s friends already gifted him the things he needed or was shopping for their baby this soon too soon? They were having a little girl... When Hannah had been born she’d been so tiny that he feared holding her. He feared somehow he’d taint her pureness with his fear of dirt and grime. That his own filthy past would somehow cling to the little girl and make her life uncomfortable. Now he staring at dummies and beanies, and socks so small they looked for dolls. How many times had Eren done the same thing? Eren would know what to buy. He adored Mina and Thomas... So how did he tell Eren that he was trying? That he wanted to try. That he still feared he’d contaminate their daughter but those fears weren’t as bad when he was with Eren. Slipping off a pink pair of socks with bows on them, would their little girl like pink? Hannah was crazy for anything pink and purple...
“Script for Yeager!”
Right. Eren didn’t have to hide his name here. They weren’t Alexi and Rivialle Braten... He’d had more fun being Rivialle than he’d realised. Rivialle ever the romantic who hung on Alexi’s words... as Alexi giggled and laughed over how he’d wanted children. Now he was Levi. Levi who knew how nice being fake married to Eren was. He didn’t want Rivialle stuck in Eren’s heart when he was no one other than himself. Grabbing another two pair of socks, they were a practical gift for a newborn, if only the chemist sold socks that’d fit his brat...
“Sir, your script is ready”
“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming”
Stuffing the socks at the bottom of the bag, Levi made sure they couldn’t be seen immediately. He’d felt the need to pick Eren up something sweet, as well as a couple of hydration drinks suitable for pregnant omegas. His alpha instincts wanted to dote on their omega, yet if asked, Levi would say it was to make up for all the shitty pills Eren had to take, including one to make him shit. The chemist explaining the correct doses, though it was on the bottle and Eren had the intelligence to follow the instructions. With the receipt hidden away, should Eren agree about the cost, Eren would have to wait until the next time he came to town. They’d made the baby together and it wasn’t fair Eren had to fork out so much for his medication. Not knowing what Eren actually needed, Levi had gotten all the scripts from the obstetrician filled, just in case Eren found he didn’t have the time in the near future seeing he didn’t seem to be slowing down with work anytime soon.
Driving back to the station, Levi was faced with a new dilemma. Eren wasn’t answering his phone. Trying him twice than following up with a text, he was stared at by the people coming and going from the building. Yeah. He didn’t belong there, that was as obvious as bird shit across the windscreen. Forcing himself to wait a whole half hour, he didn’t want to make things difficult for his ex-boyfriend, but he also couldn’t sit around in his car all day with his thumb up his arse. He’d ask the station receptionist to pass everything along to Eren, that way he wouldn’t be intruding... as long as no one from Eren’s circle of friends was there to see him.
Grabbing the bag, the alpha headed up the stairs to the front lobby of the precinct. It was nothing like the ultra-modern buildings he’d become used to. Towards the back of the space was the elevator and staircase entrance, where a rather interesting execution chair sat between them, with the outside framed with some of the weirdest art Levi’d ever seen. Ignoring the way he felt under a microscope, the bag hanging from his hand reminded him he had a reason just as valid as any other shitty person to be in the shitty building.
Trying to force a smile to his lips out of politeness, Levi succeeded in appearing he was literally shitting himself as he walked over to the officer behind the desk
“Hi, I’m looking for Eren Yeager. I gave him a ride to work this morning and he left this in my car”
The man didn’t question him, apparently people in Nedlay simply accepted how things were, or maybe it was the security cameras that left nothing unseen
“Okay, what you’re gonna wanna do is grab that elevator up to floor three than follow the hallway”
“Can’t you just call him?”
The man seemed mildly offended that he’d suggest something more logical
“I could, don’t mean he’ll be in”
“If you could, that would be awesome”
Eren had injected “awesome” into his vocabulary and the shitty overly positive word refused to piss off
“Right, you can wait over there than”
Turning to head over to the waiting chairs near the front windows of the buildings, Levi snarled as he smacked into another alpha, embarrassed still over his use of “awesome” and embarrassed again over walking into some shitty stranger
“Sorry. Sorry, are you okay?”
Raising his gaze to the taller alpha, the stranger may have been apologising with his words, yet he had his teeth bared
“Tch. I’m fucking fine”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt but I heard you’re looking for Eren”
So not only did the stranger have messed up shitty manners, he knew the brat?
“You know Eren?”
“He used to be one of the top agents here. He’s in a call at the moment. Is there anything I can help you with?”
The man could help by pissing off. He’d never met him before and he wished to never meet him again. Nedlay attracted some real shitty weirdos
“No. He forgot his things this morning when I picked him up for work. If he’s busy, I’ll wait”
“He may be some time... I work with him so I don’t mind dropping by his office. Everyone here knows Eren’s quite flirtatious, if that’s what you’re worried about”
No. He hadn’t thought about Eren having that side to him... His brat seemed to love sex with him, yet he didn’t know what Eren loved now that he was home again. Reaching out, Levi wanted to break the man’s fingers as the stranger patted his shoulder
“You’re not the first to fall for him. I’ll be happy to save you the embarrassment, It’s okay, if you believe the rumours there’s many people who have been there before.
It’s different coming from a close colleague”
Levi was about to explode. Who the fuck did this walking piece of shit think he fucking was to slag off Eren like this?! From the way the man was talking, he was clearly bullshitting to “scare” him away. That wasn’t going to happen. He’d broken his heart and himself letting Eren go and right now, this shitty piece of shit was so close to coping all his anger right to his what would be toothless mouth
“I’d rather deliver this myself”
“It’s fine, I do work with him. He’s my superior officer, and we’re rather close if you get my meaning”
Eren saved the stranger from a near apocalyptic Levi, the omega coming out the elevator and jogging over to the pair of them. Completely ignoring the piece of shit that’d riled Levi up to much, Eren smiled at him... Eren smiled and that anger only boiled harder. How could anyone be talking shit about an omega like Eren?
“I’m so sorry. Thanks for this. It would have okay if my scripts hadn’t been in there”
“Tch. You need to keep a better eye on your shit, brat”
Laughing, the omega rubbed at his face
“I know. Blame the baby. I completely forgot, here, let me walk you out”
The unknown alpha looked as if someone had pissed in his shitty fruit loops as Eren looped his arm around Levi’s waist. Whoever the fuck was, the fact that Eren didn’t seem keen on him in the slightest made Levi way too happy.
Heading outside, the first thing Eren did was take a deep breath before letting out slowly
“You’re not hurt are you? I could smell your anger the moment the doors opened”
“No, but your subordinate is a walking shit stain”
Passing Eren the bag, Eren sighed heavily
“Yeah. Tell me about it. He’s driving me fucking crazy”
“I know it’s not my place to ask, but what the fuck is up with him?”
Eren needed a moment before replying, gaze on his feet
“Okay. I’m going to be completely honest. That was Floch. As in my ex... I don’t know how but he always seems to know what the fuck is going on with me. He tried asking me out again, but as you saw, he’s shit”
Apocalyptic Levi shot back to the surface, the alpha turning towards the door they’d just come out of before Eren stopped him with a hand on his chest
“Levi, it’s fine. If you go back in there and hit him, you’re going to get into the shit. I’ve made it clear I’d rather die than be anywhere near him for something other than working the case. He’s on warning from Pixis to stay away from me”
“He just slagged the fuck out of you. You’re my goddamn omega and you deserve some fucking respect! Who the fuck does he think he is!?”
Blowing up, Eren snorted with laughter at him as he wrapped his arms around him and kissed Levi on the top of the head
“Okay. That’s enough. I appreciate your dislike for him, but he was a horrible mistake I’m not going to make again”
Levi sighed. Eren had this almost super power at bringing him back from boiling point. Public affection had never been a strong point, yet there they were
“I’m sorry. I know you can fight your own battles. You’re stronger than anyone else we known to annoying degree...”
“I can. He’s not worth your anger. He’s repeatedly tried to show me he’s changed, but I knew from the first time I saw him again he hadn’t. I don’t feel anything but annoyance from him. Don’t make me put you in a time out”
You put your omega in one time out and they never let you fucking forget it
“Tch. You’re the brat here. I won’t start shit because we both know how that will end”
Drawing away from him, Eren took a quick look in the bag, not noticing the extra purchases at the bottom
“Mhmm. Now, I’ve got to get back to work. Thanks for this. Did you remember to take a photo of the scan?”
“Good. Let me know when you get home”
Levi really didn’t want to go. Going home to a hyperactive Hanji and a knowing Erwin didn’t sound particularly appealing. Not as appealing as spending hours talking to Eren about shit. Sighing, Levi knew Eren could handle flock and that he was being a wanker instead of respecting Eren
“Fine... Let me know if you need Floch to disappear”
“Oh, I think you’ll have to get in line there...”
“I said what I said”
Eren snorted, flipping his mock salute with his middle finger that Levi had missed. Such a cocky little shit...
“Yes, sir. Be safe”
“You too, brat”
As Levi turned away, Eren grabbed him by the hand, for a moment the alpha thought he was going to be kissed, unfortunately Eren was serious
“I promise I’m going to think about things. I don’t want to jerk you around, but I do need time. I’ll let you know when I see you next”
What the shit did he say to that? Eren had just been all over him, and now that barrier was going up again...
“Okay, brat. Don’t think too hard or your brain will burst”
“I’m sure it won’t... Just... take care of yourself. Okay? You’re going to be a dad...”
A strained smile was the best he could manage
“Yeah, yeah. Our daughter needs to come first and I understand that... See you in two weeks?”
“Yep. You’ll know where I’ll be. I’ll let you know if that changes”
Neither of their scents were particularly happy. It felt to Levi as if both of them were hoping the other would cave. Yet Eren needed space to think and he needed Eren to know he respected that
So, speaking from a technical, literary standpoint…like Chekhovs Gun or formulaic character arcs or basic foreshadowing, most well crafted narratives have everything happen for a reason. You show someone afraid of spiders in the beginning to show how timid and cowardly they are, so their arc at the end where they overcome their fears is more potent. You have your character break into a car early on to establish he has lockpicking skills so it doesn’t come out of nowhere in the climax.
Everything should have a purpose, whether it be to establish a character arc, or to set the ground rules of the world and story. So, pray tell, what would the undercover Wildling Jon plotline and Ygritte’s purpose to the overall story be?
1. Just to put Jon through even more hurt and pain, because GRRM likes seeing his characters suffer?
2. To teach Jon about the Wildling culture beyond the wall, even though it’s mostly likely to be destroyed the others pretty soon?
3. An excuse for GRRM to write more sex?
4. The best way to get the White Walkers and Night King into the Nights Watch’s attention?
5. To set a precedent of Jon going “undercover” to honor his duty over love?
When ASOIAF is all over and done, and the ending is glaring you in the face, whatever that ending may be - dead Dany, alive Dany, dead Jon, alive Jon - you could probably look back at Ygritte and the Wildling storyline and think “what was all that about? Was that a waste of time? What was the point?”
In regards to option 1: as much as GRRM has gotten a reputation for liking to kill his characters and create dramatic sequences, he always does so for a narrative purpose. It never seems to be haphazard or just because he wants to cause suffering. Giving Jon a love interest just to kill her for the sake of drama doesn’t seem to be his goal. A lot of writers, especially film writers, seem to do this, but I don’t buy it from GRRM.
In regards to option 2: by the end of the series, the Wildlings will probably be gone or at least severely crippled in numbers. I doubt there’s any important Free Folk culture bit that will come in incredibly handy with killing the Night King. And if the Wildlings will be dead, then it would be a waste of writing attention and page numbers to dedicate simply to just learning more about them.
In regards to option 3: kind of goes with option 1, the love interest line of thinking. If GRRM just wanted Jon to lose his virginity, it sure is a long and windy way to go about it - to have him go beyond the wall, kill a brother, pretend to be a turncloak, resist Ygritte at every turn, somewhat reluctantly give in and break his vows and then have her die. Good romance novel plot, but asoiaf?
In regards to option 4: to bring the true threat of the White Walkers into the story. Once again, there could have been quicker and easier ways to do it. Jon didn’t need to go undercover to do it, they could have found out while on the range independently of Jon having to go undercover. If GRRMs ultimate goal was “we need him to find out about the WW on the other side of the wall” it’s a big leap to go to “let’s have him pretend to turncloak and fall in love and fuck a Wildling to do it.”
Now, option 5: to set precedent. If there’s a big reveal later on that Jon is deceiving Dany - going “undercover” to survive while honoring his duty - it won’t come as big as a shock because it’s already happened before. Readers won’t find themselves closing the book going “whoa. Is Jon the bad guy? How could he do that? That came out of nowhere.” GRRM has already established Jon’s lines in the sand (or lack thereof), his morals, and what he’s willing and able to do - despite love, despite vows, despite fear. Ygritte will be the example he calls back to.
Despite it being very captivating, good storytelling, and beloved parts of the books, could you imagine just chopping the undercover Wildling plot out of the narrative, and anything being affected? Would anything change if he had not gone undercover? So unless Ygritte and the undercover Wildling plotline was a shaggy dog, or an example of gardening getting the best of GRRM, it has to have been done for a reason.
As a person that believes very firmly that Jonsa is the most logical, poetic, and satisfying way to end the GoT/ASOIAF series, the push back against the Jonsa theory is often centered on some criticism of Sansa’s character. She’s also been the subject of innumerable theories regarding her loyalty to the Starks in general and Jon in particular.
The evidence (show wise) presented commonly points out her failure to tell Jon about the Knights of the Vale before the Battle of the Bastards or for not even telling Jon how she knew that the Blackfish had retaken Riverrun.
I used to answer that it was a mistake that Sansa made and that Jon made it abundantly clear that he had forgiven her for these supposed transgressions so that, essentially, if it doesn’t matter to the characters then it shouldn’t “matter” to the audience in terms of judging whether Jon and Sansa have potential for a romantic future, and yet I now believe that only tells half the story. I still point to Jon’s forgiveness of her as dispositive proof that Jon doesn’t hold it against Sansa in the slightest - but I’m going to expand on why even the AUDIENCE shouldn’t hold it against Sansa.
I feel like a criticism of Sansa is the result of a significant failure to understand Sansa’s state of mind, a failure to understand what Sansa (rightfully) thinks of LF, and finally the VERY GOOD REASONS why Sansa didn’t want to tell Jon about LF.
[check under the cut]
Sansa’s State of Mind:
How easily people forget what Sansa was forced to endure BECAUSE OF LITTLEFINGER.
She was used as a pawn by LF to marry Ramsay. Maybe he didn’t know how evil Ramsay was when he arranged the marriage. It doesn’t even matter. He manipulated Sansa into the idea. He already had planned to “ride to her rescue” (putting Sansa in another Lyanna parallel) without telling Sansa except Sansa took initiative (with an assist from Theon) and escaped before he could carry out his plans.
So LF hears about Sansa’s escape and tries to arrange a meeting with her. Everything you need to know about how Sansa feels about LF is revealed in the scene in Mole’s Town.
This was as much about Sansa wanting the opportunity to tell LF off as anything. LF surprises her a bit, though, when he tells her that the Vale is prepared to ride to her aid. He also makes her think about whether Jon and his Freefolk are enough to defeat Ramsay.
The scene ends with Sansa telling LF she NEVER wants to see him again. Remember that line. In response, LF tries to plant another seed of doubt in Sansa’s mind about Jon - making sure she hears that Jon is only her “half brother”.
Sansa never wants to see LF or acknowledge that he is a part of her story. She’s ashamed of any association she has with him. She wants to forget him because she now links him with Ramsay in her mind permanently. The evidence is the scene with Jon, Davos, and company making a plan to take back Winterfell where Sansa withholds how she learned about Blackfish retaking Riverrun.
Which Brienne calls her out on...and Sansa doesn’t really respond.
There are two reasons why someone would withhold an association from somebody: they are scheming against somebody or they are ashamed. Sansa doesn’t look angry at Brienne because Sansa’s mind is on the fact that she lied to Jon because of her shame.
Sansa hates her association with LF in light of meeting Jon. Jon immediately promised to watch over her, to go where she goes. She FINALLY has a connection that matters. If you were in Sansa’s shoes and you FINALLY have someone that is willing to show you dedication and love, would you want them to know that you are receiving help from someone you despise and you KNOW Jon will despise? Her shame of LF (and herself for ever using him to help her cause with Jon) causes her silence. How do I know this? Precisely because of the pattern Sansa shows AFTER Brienne questions her in this scene.
“HALF Brother” aka “How Sansa Reacts to Littlefinger’s Continued Manipulation Attempts”
At this point...Sansa tries everything in her power to NEVER SEE LITTLEFINGER AGAIN. She also immediately claims Jon as a Stark visually for the world to see. This is her own personal answer to Littlefinger’s games. In her mind, she’s already decided that he is wrong about Jon.
Sansa finds Jon and feels good. LF tries to plant doubt in Sansa about Jon. Sansa claims Jon unofficially.
She specifically is attempting to do this without LF’s help. She travels to Bear Island with Jon. Her status as a Stark is questioned. She goes with Jon to meet Lord Glover. Again, her status as a Stark is questioned...and help is refused. Through no true fault of their own, Sansa and Jon are faced with serious roadblocks in building the army they need to defeat Ramsay and re-capture Winterfell. It becomes obvious that Jon and Sansa as a team just haven’t gathered enough men.
Sansa tells him repeatedly that they don’t have enough. It’s a point of contention for the audience with Sansa. My evidence that it was never because she was making some elaborate plan to have Jon killed is pretty straightforward:
1) She begged Jon to wait longer to march on WF so they could make another round to try and rally support in the North. If she wanted Jon to be overwhelmed and didn’t care if he died, it wouldn’t make any sense to beg that he delay so they can gather a stronger force WITHOUT LITTLEFINGER. Jon refuses to relent, though, knowing Rickon is alive and believing that he can save his brother.
2) She only asked Littlefinger for help AFTER it became clear that Jon wasn’t going to delay the attack. If her plan existed in any other form that was devious for Jon, she would have already had it figured out with Littlefinger.
Sansa recognizes that this is not shaping up to be a battle they can win. Jon responds that “where can we get more men!?” Sansa doesn’t respond that LF and the Knights could help. Because Jon is so aggressive, Sansa shows a very obvious sadness that she is now in a position of asking a person that cannot be trust for help. She hates feeling as if she must as LF for help...while also simultaneously realizing she can’t expect Jon alone to protect her. She MUST take an active role in protecting him as well.
Never a bad reason to show these two huffing and puffing as Sansa realizes that Jon can’t do this alone.
So so so SOOOOOOO often this is used as damning evidence against Sansa. Why wouldn’t she tell him? Why would she hold back? Did she want him to die?
All of these inquiries completely miss a huge point: SANSA KNOWS HOW DANGEROUS LF CAN BE.
She has no idea if he’ll help - but even if he does? She completely has her eyes on the danger LF presents to Westeros and to Jon. She knows LF wants everything. I’m positive she has a suspicion that he wants her too. Where would this leave Jon? Is LF a good person for herself and Jon to be indebted to?
The point of Sansa’s campaign with Jon around the North was an attempt by Sansa to keep from EVER needing or SEEING Littlefinger ever again. Ultimately, she identifies that it’s something she HAS to do.
She knows the stakes after interacting with Ramsay.
And she follows through on her promise to Ramsay that he is going to die.
But here’s where we see that SANSA WAS RIGHT.
Littlefinger DOES become a problem.
First, he tries to come onto Sansa AGAIN. It’s become known to her what he is after. LF wants the North and he wants Sansa and Jon stands in the way of both of these goals. She did NOT wants this. How do I know she didn’t want this?
Her visible discomfort as Jon is telling her that she is the only reason why the Battle of the Bastards resulted in their victory. It is the focus of the camera.
She tells Jon herself that only a fool would trust Littlefinger. She hated herself for being in the position to ask Littlefinger for help. She never wanted to see him again. She felt like a fool asking for his help in the first place! Which leads to...
Sansa apologizes for doing what had to be done to win the battle. This isn’t a point for Sansa fans to stand a cheer and point out how stupid and incapable Jon is either. Because Sansa detests Littlefinger as much as Jon does. She contemplated having Brienne kill him in Mole’s Town. She blames him for her marriage to Ramsay. But ultimately Sansa decided that Jon winning the battle was more important than her personal vendetta against Littlefinger.
In my opinion she rightfully assessed that Jon wouldn’t accept Littlefinger’s help (adding to the fact that she didn’t want it in the first place) because Jon specifically brings up that Sansa was sold to the Boltons by Littlefinger before she begins to talk about him.
It all points to Sansa struggling with the idea that she TRIED with Jon to rally the forces they needed to defeat Ramsay but, with survival on the line, she was forced to enlist LF’s help knowing full well the problems he was going to cause for them.
Sansa regrets that she had to ask for help from somebody that she hates and wanted to avoid ever interacting with ever again.
Sansa’s now asked Jon’s forgiveness for not telling him. If she was scheming for power over him, there’s no scenario in which she wouldn’t demand that HE acknowledge her role in winning the battle. No, she’s guilt-stricken. And Jon’s reaction is what lifts her out of it.
There is no hint of bitterness from Jon. There is not doubt of Sansa’s loyalties. The way Jon responds to Sansa’s apology is how someone would deal with an apology from a person who’s been hurt and betrayed and closed themselves off as a defense mechanism...which is a feeling in Sansa that Jon desperately wants to break. He wants her to see them as a team. As a pair that can shares in each other’s joys and lessen each other’s burdens.
This isn’t Jon saying “tell me battle plans!” or “Sansa we have to be on the same page if we are gonna do this!” this is Jon saying “I get it. Let me share in your struggles, Sansa.”
This is Jon acknowledging that he couldn’t have captured Winterfell on his own and further that he needs her just as much as she might need him.
Finally in the end, Sansa was right.
This won’t even cover the practical effects of Sansa not telling Jon about LF (like the fact that it could have altered the battle plans in Ramsay’s favor) because that analysis is much more subjective with regard to what Sansa did or didn’t know about the battle. It’s focused on the personal reasons for Sansa not telling Jon about LF’s offer for help.
The idea that Sansa viewed LF as an undesirable threat against Jon and Winterfell? That’s much easier to prove in Sansa’s favor.
1) Jon Would Have Reacted Violently To LF’s Help
Jon couldn’t contain his emotions when it came to Sansa. LF picked up on it. Had Jon stayed, LF’s plotting would have revolved around killing Jon and/or placing him in the same position Robb was in when he was betrayed by his own bannermen. AFTER ONE CONVERSATION JON DOES THIS.
2) Littlefinger’s Would Create A Problem That Only Sansa Could Solve
(a game she never wanted to be forced to play)
“He’s a dangerous man. But even the most dangerous men can be outmaneuvered. And you’ve learned to maneuver from the very best.”
This is exactly what happened...except Littlefinger never imagined that he was talking about himself.
3) Littlefinger’s Capability At Reading People Would Pose Problems For Sansa Personally
Sansa knows LF wants her at his side. She feels no personal danger from him. Her fear is for Jon. In a telling fashion, LF’s last scene before his execution has him prodding Sansa about her feelings with regard to Jon.
While Sansa detests Littlefinger, she now needs to resolve the situation where she can both 1) retain the loyalty of his forces; AND 2) protect Jon’s standing as KitN since she knows that is ultimately what he’s after. When she enlisted his help, she knew this would be a consequence...and one that she never desired having to confront in the first place. After the scene with Jon in the crypts, it becomes obvious that Littlefinger is acutely aware of how Jon feels for Sansa and he spends the rest of the season prodding how Sansa feels for Jon. This last scene, this enormously important last scene, tells us that he identifies their bond with each other and that a ROMANTIC rivalry is the only thing that could place himself in a position where he could pit Jon and Sansa against each other.
Littlefinger realized that it was never about power for Sansa. It was about Jon.
Conclusion: Sansa never wanted LF’s help. He enabled her abuse at the hands of Ramsay. She knew he did it out of a warped sense of love. She also realized that was a threat to Jon. She never wanted him involved in the first place and asking for his help felt like surrender to her. Yet she handled the fallout in a way that allows her (and Jon) to keep the Vale’s loyalty while eliminating Jon’s biggest potential threat that Sansa has any control over.
All along, Sansa not telling Jon about LF or the Vale was due to her desire to succeed without his help along with her shame at being associated with someone that she hates and someone she knows Jon hates. The proof is in her last interaction with Littlefinger.
Wherein Sansa finally gets the chance to announce to the world that Littlefinger betrayed her. She doesn’t forget. Jon doesn’t forget. These aren’t the Starks that Littlefinger is used to dealing with. They remember. The North remembers.
“Wind and words. We are only human, and the gods have fashioned us for love. That is our great glory, and our great tragedy.”
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Isang private investigato si Marie. At nang mawala ang anak ng biyudong si Jaime De Larna at hingin nito ang serbisyo niya ay nangako siyang hahanapin ang bata.
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I wrote this in a reply to someone, and I thought to make a post and paste the reply, so more people could see it.
Whenever I show these quotes, or add these quotes in my replies to strengthen my UCLT, to Jonerice shippers, they say I'm grasping at straws lol
"You could've LIED to Cersei, about BENDING THE KNEE to Daenerice." - Theon (and he did lol Theon simply doesn't know that what he said to both of them was a lie)
"Every step you take is always the RIGHT step." - Theon
"It's not. It may SEEM that way from the outside, but I PROMISE you IT'S NOT TRUE.” - Jon (this was not only directed to Theon, but to the audience too)
"A wise man once said, that you should never BELIEVE a thing, simply because you WANT to believe it." - Tyrion to Dany (again, it was directed to the audience as well)
I've had Jonerice shippers tell me, "No, Theon was talking about when they were young, and Jon is referring to how he took the wrong step at Castle Black, and got murdered for it, this has nothing to do with Jon betraying Daenerice.
And I'm just here like, NO. Jon and Theon were talking about Jon bending the knee to Daenerice, they were talking about the dragonpit, about Jon not lying to Cersei (which he totally did lol), that’s what the conversation was about, that was the context of the conversation, plus Jon is talking present and not past tense, "It may seem that way", he's talking present, as in right now which basically translates to: It may seem like every step I take is the right one, but it’s not true my friend, it’s not.
Or “oh Littlefinger is talking about Arya, he is talking to Sansa, that quote has nothing to do with Jon or your stupid undercover theory.” people who are so narrow minded, and think this way make me wanna bang my head on a wall lol
As if other characters can't be used as a device to subtly hint at and foreshadow things that will happen/are happening lol
So, he lied to both Queens.
Jon saw what Daenerice's dragons can do, he needs them, and in 7x06 she had just lost one, so he wasn’t sure what effect that would have on her, would it make her want to fully commit to the cause, would she be hesitant, would the fear of losing the remaining 2 dragons she has, scare her and make her back away? And since he cannot read her mind, even if she agreed to fight, he firsthand saw her impulsiveness and volatility, so he just ended up blurting out “D@ny”, “My Queen” and “I’d bend the knee, but…”, he basically told her whatever she wanted to hear, hoping that it'd secure her help (but keep in mind that it was not enough).
He lied to Cersei, told her he already serves one Queen, Daenerice (when in fact, he doesn’t, he serves only the North and the realm “The shield that guards the realms of men”), he did this to appear honorable and trustworthy through and through, to appear as if he’d never lie nor deceive anyone, EVER in front of Daenerice. That, was the stunt Jon decided to pull, to get Daenerice’s full trust. And Ned having the reputation of being a man who was honorable, and that always told the truth, it’s what made his stunt even more believable. Even if we all know that Ned, was also a good liar, and did lie when it came to keeping those he loved safe. The characters don’t know that, but us, the audience, do.
Jon is not stupid.
Why would he not lie to Cersei about not taking sides? That would’ve been
easy peasy for him, I mean, he lied no problem, while he infiltrated the wildlings, pretty much all of them believed him, Ygritte believed him, so he can lie and he is a good liar, if he wants and needs to lie.
So why? All of a sudden he can’t lie anymore?? lol No. He can lie just fine. What he did was smart, he literally told a lie to Daenerice (she might or might not have believed he was being honest in 7x06), and then passed that lie as the truth to Cersei, and everyone fell for it, everyone believed him, everyone believed that, that was the truth (because you know, why would he purposely not lie about it? Lying would’ve been easier and it would've made more sense, so to them, what Jon said, automatically became the truth.).
If perhaps Daenerice wasn't sure if Jon was being honest about bending the knee until that moment, well, after that stunt he pulled, she fully believes him. He won Daenerice’s respect and full trust, which was exactly what he wanted and was after, and he fed her ego while he was at it, too.
Our clever boy is going around using reverse psychology.
Jon does not need Cersei for the great war, he only needs Daenerice, well, not her, he needs her dragons, to defeat the NK.
In the books, Quaithe does warn Daenerice to be careful, that men will come for her Dragons… so... yeah...
“They shall come day and night to see the wonder born into the world again. And when they see they shall lust… for dragons are fire made flesh… and fire is power.”
Dragons are indeed very powerful. Fire kills wights and dragons are flying creatures that breathe fire, so yeah, I wouldn’t say Jon lusts for Daenerice’s dragons, Jon needs them, to save the world.
Everyone keeps saying Daenerice’s had already agreed to march North/help the North, but had she though? Cause to me it does not look like it... at all…
Many people make it sound like, regardless if Cersei agreed to the truce or not, Dany would’ve marched North either way lol
Boy, is this NOT TRUE.
I just want to get this across, Jon & Daenerice didn’t go to the Dragonpit, because they needed Cersei’s soldiers/army to join them, they went there simply to ask Cersei to cease fire until the NK and his army are dealt with. Some people seem to be under the impression that they went there to ask Cersei to join them in the fight, they DID NOT, the fact Cersei promises to join them and send men North on her own accord (which is a lie), is another thing entirely.
“If my brother jaimie has informed me correctly, you’re asking me for a truce.”
“Yes, that’s all.”
So, there, they went to the Dragonpit, because Dany wouldn’t help the North UNTIL Cersei agreed to cease fire.
Now, just to make it even more clear, when Cersei got pissed and stormed off, after Jon declared he already served Daenerice, we got the confirmation from Tyrion that Daenerice WOULD REMAIN South and let Jon and the Northerners go home, and deal with the NK on their own:
“I go see my sister alone, OR WE ALL GO HOME, and WE’RE RIGHT BACK WHERE WE STARTED.”
This quote right here, LITERALLY means that if Tyrion fails, Daenerice WILL NOT march North to come to the North’s aid, to kill the Night King, and avenge Viserion, one of her “children”. This quote literally tells you Daenerice puts the throne above EVERYTHING ELSE, above EVERYONE ELSE, and that Tyrion knows this, hence why him talking to Cersei was of imperative importance, because Daenerice WAS NOT going to march North if Cersei didn’t accept to the truce first.
If it had been up to Tyrion, he’d have marched North from EP3, no need for all this truce and wight hunt nonsense, but it wasn’t up to him, it was up to Daenerice and well... “I’m her hand, not her head.”, what you gonna do, D@ny will be D@ny.
Jon said this to Sansa in 7x01:
“I’m concerned with the Night King because I’VE SEEN HIM, and believe me, you’d THINK of “LITTLE ELSE” if you had too.“
And guess what? When he asked Daenerice (I’d like to point out, again, this is after she saw the NK and his entire army, and lost a dragon because of the NK) "So what now?” at the Dragonpit, she replied with:
“[...] And I can’t pretend Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march North.”
So bottom line here, she is still thinking about the (“LITTLE ELSE”) Iron Throne, prioritizing it, after she’s seen 100.000+ dead men, and after the NK has killed one of her dragons.
Again, for what must be the millionth time, I cannot, for the life of me, understand how some people think Jon could ever fall for her? For someone as self absorbed as her? It just confuses me beyond imagination.
Jonerice shippers really must excuse me for thinking that all he is doing, he’s doing it to fully invest her in the ONLY WAR that matters, to get her head to focus ONLY on the Great war, because as Jon, and as everyone else can see/tell, the Iron Throne means more to her than anything else.
So they went to the Dragonpit to make Cersei agree, and she did agree, but of course, she lied.
Jon isn’t stupid, Sansa warned him about Cersei, he knows her words are like wind, he knows the chances of Cersei keeping her word are very, VERY small.
So, let's think logically for a moment:
- It’s pretty clear to Jon that Daenerice won’t march North unless Cersei agrees to the truce.
- Jon knows Cersei might say she agrees to the truce.
- He also knows Cersei might say she agrees to the truce, only to deceive them.
- He knows, if Cersei agrees, but lies to them, and doesn't keep her word, she’ll start “taking back half the country” the moment Daenerice marches North. Jon knows once that happens, and word gets to Winterfell, Jon can kiss Dany and her Dragons goodbye.
By the end of that Dragonpit scene, Jon is now 100% FULLY aware and certain Daenerice would bail on them if Cersei is lying to them, he’s fully aware that she cannot see the BIGGER PICTURE. 👉👉👉 “I can’t pretend Cersei won’t take back half the country the moment I march North.”
So he proposed they sail together, NOT to “send a better message”, but so he can make a move on her, make her fall for him and get her head in the Great war, fully commit her to it, so when Cersei marches in, she doesn’t head south, because her feelings/love for him, will keep her there, will make it unbearable and therefore impossible for her to leave him behind to fight alone, to die.
It sounds horrible, it does, it is a horrible thing to do, but Jon is out of options here, he’s tried just about EVERYTHING with her (pleading, begging, reasoning, talking, he went on that stupid wight hunt, and NOTHING), he gave her everything she wanted (he bent the knee, gave her his kingdom, entrusted her his people and his family, called her D@ny, my Queen, tried to feed her ego by declaring in front of everyone he serves her, and again, NOTHING), she saw the NK, he killed Viserion, and still her head is set on the Iron Throne and NOT on the Night King & his army.
Jon’s doing it for a good cause, to save the North, to save humanity, to save his family. Not that it makes it any less unhonorable and horrible, it’s still awful obviously, but he’s gotta do, what he’s gotta do to save everybody.
To those who truly believe he loves her… Idk what to tell you man…
“Sometimes, when I try to understand a person’s MOTIVES, I play a little game. I assume the WORST. What is the worst reason they could possibly have for SAYING what they say and DOING what they do. Then I ask myself, how well does that reason EXPLAIN what they say and what they do?” - LF to Sansa (yet again, this is another gem that was directed to the audience as well)
for saying what they say: What reason dies Jon have to lie to Daenerice? For one, he doesn't trust her, he is wary of her, he knows she is impulsive and obsessed with the IT, and also because nothing else worked with her. Asking didn't work, reasoning didn't work, showing her the cave didn't work, and finally, seeing the NK and losing a dragon didn't work. At this point, lying is his only chance.
and doing what they do: Why would he go knock on her door and then proceed to have sex with her? Because she still prioritizes the Iron Throne over the the army of the dead, and the Night King, who has killed one of her dragons/”children”. And if bending the knee, proclaiming her his Queen, and having one of her dragons killed didn't do the trick, then he’s forced to try something else, to make sure she doesn't bail on him and take the dragons with her back South, if Cersei lied and has deceived them.
“Don't fight in the North or the South. Fight every battle, everywhere, always, in your mind. Everyone is your enemy, everyone is your friend. Live that way and nothing will surprise you.” - Littlefinger 7x03
Jon knows “what” Daenerice is, and he is LITERALLY taking every single outcome into consideration. Daenerice and EVERYONE else would’ve understood him lying to Cersei, but he decided to tell the “truth” anyway, because again, it’s not Cersei’s trust or army that he needs, it’s Daenerice’s and her dragons. He sees Daenerice as both his friend and his enemy.
There are so many RED flags in the J0nerys storyline/plot, that I’m honestly so baffled so many people seem to not see them.
If I witness one more person say “but Daenerice had already agreed to go North and help, Jon has no reason to lie to her”, I swear to all the Gods...
And to conclude this meta, this is another bit from LF’s quote from above, that was also meant for the viewers at home.
“Everything that happens will be something that YOU’VE SEEN BEFORE.”
Summary: Posing as a happily married couple for a deep cover op, you and Bucky have to put aside the longstanding animosity between you, at least in public. In private, there's little more than coldness between you. But maybe, just maybe, there's more going on than either of you are able to say.
Word Count: 3.1k
Warnings: Some swearing. Some angst that turns kind of fluffy. References to violence and injury.
A/N: A mix of a feeling that popped into my head and this ask turned into this. I'm such a sucker for enemies to lovers (with a little bit of one bed tossed in there) and I'm so glad I finally had a chance to write one. Thanks for the ask nonnie and thanks for reading everyone! Moodboard by me, divider by the ever talented @firefly-graphics
Update: This was originally a one shot and is now a series ♥
Shadows slip softly across the ceiling in the pre-dawn light that creeps in at the edge of the curtains.
The longer he stares the more details he can make out. The small bump in the ceiling where a paint clump caught and dried. A cobweb, high in a corner, too far to reach without a step ladder. The fine cracks where wall meets ceiling, formed by the slow settling of the house.
He knows them well, memorized after so many mornings just like this. Mornings when he wakes without knowing why and can’t close his eyes again. In the beginning, he couldn’t sleep. Now, he doesn’t want to.
Because he’s waiting. He knows that he is, even if he’d never admit it.
The clock ticks in the semi-dark but he doesn’t count the time by it. He counts it instead by your quiet breaths. He listens for the shift that tells him it’s coming.
Your breath hitches and his catches in his throat. Your heartbeat quickens and he holds himself as still as he can. His eyes remain fixed on the ceiling, but they no longer see, his attention pulled completely to his periphery.
You mumble in your sleep. He's never quite sure if you say what he thinks you do or if he’s only imagining it.
Your once still form becomes restless and your brow creases, though your eyes stay closed. Your lips part in a startled gasp. Your arm shoots out and your hand connects with his shoulder.
After a heartbeat, your breath comes out a shuddering sigh. Tension seeps out of your body and you slip once more into an easy sleep, the contact, an inexplicable balm to your unconscious unease.
He lets out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
How many nights now? How many nights have you reached for him like this? To make sure that he’s still there?
He’s not even sure you know you do it. You never acknowledge it in the waking hours. Never show any signs that you care enough to even do such a thing to begin with.
But you do, despite everything, care.
Six months ago, he wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible.
Six months ago, when Sam informed you both of the assignment, Bucky knew you hated it just as much as he did. He could read it in the tightening of your jaw when Sam handed you the file. You never said anything though.
Bucky- on the other hand- said plenty enough for the both of you.
You have got to be kidding me, he hissed at Sam after the debriefing when the two of them were alone. You could not have picked two worse people to have paired for this.
Listen, Sam said flatly, he knew this had been coming. I don’t pretend to understand how this animosity between the two of you started. But what I do know is that you are both damn good agents- my best- and I need my best for this job. So suck it up and figure it out.
And he did. Eventually, some forty-five minutes and a half dozen counterarguments later.
Finally and begrudgingly convinced that Sam couldn’t be swayed, he stormed out of the conference room, only to find you just ten feet down the hall in the waiting area, stiff and staring straight ahead.
Surprised and certain that you must have overheard him arguing with Sam, guilt flashed through him and twisted his gut into a knot. His mouth opened involuntarily, but what he intended to say, he had no idea.
But when, after several long heartbeats, you merely turned your hooded gaze to him and said nothing, he straightened his back and pulled his righteousness around him like a cloak.
What did he have to feel guilty about anyways? It’s not like the enmity between the two of you was a secret. Nor was it even one-sided.
Still when you finally stood and walked with cold and measured steps towards him, something tightened in his chest and his heart skipped a beat.
You came to a stop just two feet from him, tilting your head back to better appraise him with your affectless eyes. He ground his teeth together, hoping that you wouldn’t see how uneasy your judgment made him.
Finally, you shoved a piece of paper into his chest and let it go, making him start and grab for it before it fell.
“Our new training schedule.”
Like your eyes, your voice gave way nothing of what you were feeling.
His eyes flashed down to the paper and then up again. He thought just for a moment, that he saw something behind your dispassionate expression. Disappointment, perhaps? But he couldn’t say. Because before he could ask or do anything else, you turned and walked away without another word.
He stared after you, trying to make sense of what he was feeling. And for a long time after you disappeared from view, he continued to stare, annoyed at himself for caring so much about what you were thinking.
Finally, he shook himself free of his own warring thoughts and looked down at the paper in his hand.
Jesus, Sam even had it done up on official letterhead, anticipating Bucky’s resistance and making it clear that he wasn’t asking politely.
His eyes widened as he scanned the page. Every hour of every day between waking and curfew for the next six weeks was filled in. Everywhere his name appeared, yours appeared alongside it. Sam even included notes about seating arrangements. You were going to eat together, exercise together, spar together, attend briefings together, review case files together, practice tradecraft together. Fuck, for the last two weeks before your mission was set to commence, you were even going to be moving into private quarters together.
Bucky dropped his head and groaned. If he hadn’t known better, he would have thought Sam was hoping you’d kill each other.
You threw yourself into the work with a totality of focus that left him feeling stunned. And awed.
And it didn’t take long for him to realize that you were far, far better at all this than he was.
When he woke the next morning and slipped out of his room intent on breakfast, he found you waiting for him in the hall. Without a word, you fell into step with him. In the kitchen, you flowed easily around him as if you could anticipate his every move. By the second day, you could make his regular breakfast exactly how he liked it- even remembering to add a pinch of salt to his coffee grounds. He hadn’t even realized you’d been paying attention.
When it came to movement and intimacy exercises, you touched him with an ease that felt natural, not stilted and forced like when he did it. And you never, ever flinched when he touched you. He could not say the same.
You knew your legend inside and out. Yours and his. And when you were her, you were her. It was as if you’d slipped out of your own skin and slipped into that of one Lena Martin, wife of Adam Martin. Lover of trail running, 80s R&B, and handicraft. Recently moved across country with your husband of eight years to pursue a major career move for him. Resolutely cheerful about Adam’s new job opportunity, even if it meant leaving all of your friends behind and giving up a job you loved. Only a little bit sad that he spent so much time at work and left you to explore the new city on your own. But hey, all the better reason to make friends with your seemingly innocuous new neighbors, right?
When you were her, you were someone softer and less sure, someone sillier and more careless, someone who laughed easier and wore her heart on her sleeve. Someone who deeply and unquestionably loved the man beside her, even if they did have their spats from time to time.
And to anyone on the outside, they could easily have mistaken you for her, could have somehow imagined that this was in fact who you had actually been all along.
A week into training, he realized he was in serious danger of being completely bested by you in every way with this mission. Something he could not let stand. So he threw himself into the work with the same intensity, leaving all of his complaints and doubts behind. His renewed focus was so complete that he didn’t even notice the way that Sam could often be found smiling smugly to himself whenever Bucky wasn’t looking.
It took less than a month for even Bucky to realize how well the two of you worked together, not that he would have said so out loud.
You’d slipped seamlessly into the lives you’d built for the mission. By three months in, you’d already developed a burgeoning friendship with your target, your neighbor from four doors down, a seemingly ordinary suburban wife and mother who was the unassuming head of a major trafficking ring. She’d even helped you get a part-time job in the legit boutique of her friend, and Bucky had bonded with her husband over BBQ and lawn maintenance.
Your mission was running as smoothly as a well-oiled machine and the two of you played your parts to perfection. In public it was all easy and casual banter, affectionate touches, and inside joke smiles. When you kissed him, you did it as effortlessly as if you’d been doing it your whole life.
In private, well... if the two of you were quiet- your only conversations the pragmatic discussions of your mission- at least the once open hostility between you was gone. The space between you may have been chilly, but at least it wasn’t charged and brewing like an overloading reactor.
Sometimes, when he was alone with his thoughts, he found the continued indifference between you surprising, even to himself. You’d spent nearly every minute together for months and still, you seemed to have found no common ground save for the mission and he still knew absolutely nothing about you.
Well, not nothing. He knew you were good at your job. Even before when he found himself endlessly irked by you, he had known that. But still, it was only over time that he fully allowed himself to appreciate it, to recognize within himself the deep and profound respect he had for you, for your skill and your commitment to your work.
He wondered if you ever felt the same about him.
Though you remained little better than a mystery to him, he found himself softening towards you. The once seemingly endless list of things about you that annoyed him, dwindled away and disappeared, and for the life of him, if you’d asked him, he could no longer remember a single thing that had been on it.
As for your own feelings about him, he couldn’t tell. In contrast to Lena, you kept all your own personal thoughts and feelings carefully locked away behind the heavy vault door of your heart.
As far as he knew, you may very well have still hated him.
At least, he thought so, until the night when everything changed.
He lays still, listening as your breath evens out and you settle once again into a deeper sleep.
If he wanted to count how many times you'd done this- how many times you reached out, unconscious, seeking the solid reassurance that he was still there- he could.
Because it started after that night. That terrible night.
He had been running recon at your target’s suspected base of operations, while you- the diversion- played hostess to her and her husband and made- with great chagrin- apologies for Adam’s absence.
He’d been unexpectedly asked to stay late at work, you see. You were sure he’d get home as soon as he could, but maybe it was best not to hold dinner for him anyways? Would they like another glass of wine?
It was a pretty ordinary kind of mission.
But then things went terribly sideways. And what had once been an easy recon, turned into a night when neither one of you was sure he’d make it home alive.
When he eventually did make it back, bloodied and bruised with an awkward limp, he found you waiting for him. His hand hadn’t even touched the doorknob before he found it swinging open with you there to catch him as he staggered in. You were quiet as you surveyed him, simply pulling him into the ensuite of your bedroom and making him strip so you could assess the damage. You filled him with warm food and pain meds and cleaned him up, stitched his wounds as steady as a surgeon, then sent him to bed.
While he drifted into a dead man’s sleep, you disposed of his ruined clothes, the bloody towels, the stains on the floor. And when you finally finished scrubbing all evidence of blood from the car and garage, instead of crawling into bed, you settled yourself into the chair on his side of the bed to watch over him as he slept.
In the morning, he woke to find that you’d already made breakfast. You only allowed him the privilege of using the bathroom before ordering him to get back in bed and eat it. You kept a careful eye on him as he did. Sipping slowly from your own mug as you sat across from him in your chair. When he finished you set aside the tray and ordered him to let you check his wounds. He grumbled but complied. His complaints were going to get him nowhere. You were no mother hen, but instead, a stern and unyielding drill sergeant.
And if your heart was beating just a little bit faster, if you seemed just a little more on edge than before, he didn’t think much of it. Your entire mission could have been blown. But you shook off his apologies, assured him that your guests hadn’t suspected a thing and went back to your routine exactly as you had before. As if nothing jarring had happened. As if it hadn’t even affected you.
But that night, he was awakened by a sound from you. Half-asleep and confused, he turned his head, blinking in the dark to see better. Then you made it again, an uneasy mumbling in your sleep that sounded suspiciously like his name. But he was sure that couldn’t be right. Your brow was wrinkled in worry and you twitched uncomfortably. Then with a sharp inhale of breath you reached out your hand in the dark.
It was only after you hand pressed firmly against his arm, against the warm solidity of him, that your brow smoothed over and your heart rate slowed.
His own heart nearly stopped that first time, only to pound like thundering hoofbeats a second later. Because in that moment, there was one thing he was sure of. You may have hidden it behind your well-honed veneer, but you had been afraid. And not for yourself, not even for the mission, but for him.
The realization shifted something deep inside of him. A movement of tectonic proportions that nearly knocked him off his feet and twisted something deep inside his heart in a way that he did not have words for.
He couldn’t sleep after that. Only watched you as you slept, unsure of what it meant, unsure of how it made him feel.
But it kept happening, and soon enough he realized how desperately he longed for it. For that unconscious proof that you cared.
He lets his eyes drift, wandering slowly over the pictures on the walls, the knickknacks and personal belongings on the shelf and bedside table.
“Window dressing” is what they call it, all the little accessories carefully chosen to make the cover feel more real, to make the house feel like a home. The pictures, taken over a two day span with wigs and props and location changes, built a visual history of the life the two of you never lived.
When his gaze falls on your wedding portrait, with your fingers curled around his lapel, your eyes and lips reflecting a joy that neither of you felt as you gazed at one another, he wonders if this was the kind of life you’d ever wanted for yourself. He never would have suspected as much before. But the tattooed words hidden carefully below the heartside of your rib cage makes him think that maybe you did once, maybe there had been someone once.
What turn of fate led you here instead of down that road?
He wonders. But he won’t ask. He can’t. He hasn’t earned it yet.
He wonders too if things might have been different between the two of you, if only. If only he’d played things differently when you’d met, if only he’d read the sudden walls behind your eyes as a defense instead of as an insult, if only he hadn’t closed the door to comradery between you so firmly in reaction to his own hurt, if only he hadn’t let you lock it behind him.
As he lays there in the dark, the steady and comforting rhythm of your breath beside him, he finally realizes what Sam had always been hinting at. The reason the two of you had such a hard time getting along. You were far too much alike. Both stubborn and wary with a fragile sense of trust that could be easily broken. But devout and fiercely loyal to the ones you call your own.
And somehow, despite everything, he is your own. He can see that now. Even if he isn’t sure that he deserves it.
You huff softly and he finally turns to look at you. Your expression is relaxed and unguarded. He wants to roll to his side and brush the loose strands of hair away from your temple, to watch your face as you slowly wake, to tease you about the pillow creases on your cheek and have you bat him away with a groan, to fill the space between you with your truths to chase away the remnants of cold indifference that linger.
But he doesn’t. Because he hasn’t earned that yet either.
But he will.
The promise forms into words for the first time, but he knows he made it long before with that first touch of your protective hand on his shoulder in the dark.
He glances at the clock. It’s early still, but he knows you’ll wake within the hour.
He slowly slips out of bed, careful not to disturb you, and throws on a shirt.
There’s work to be done. A bridge to be built between you.
Breakfast seems like a good place to start. And he’s sure he knows how to make it just the way you like it.