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luci-in-trenchcoats · 3 years

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Season 16 (Part 1)

Summary: After being captured by Michael while Dean was under his control, the reader has spent a very long time locked away waiting for someone to come and find her. When the day finally comes that the door opens, it’s not a familiar face she’s greeted with. Somehow the impossible is standing right in front of her but there’s no time to think about that. Something is terribly wrong and the reader needs the help of this strange young man if she wants to stop what Michael’s put in motion and have a chance at seeing Dean alive again...

Masterlist

Pairing: Dean x reader

Square: Free Space

Word Count: 3,600ish

Warnings: language, SPN season 15 and series spoilers, injury, mention of main character deaths, mention of torture, angst, fluff

A/N: This series takes place post season 15 and follows canon (i.e. if it happened in the show, it happened in this story’s universe). This series is told between the reader and Dean’s POV. This was also written for @supernatural-jackles Tell Me A Story bingo!

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Reader’s POV

You just about had a heart attack when the door opened. It’d been such a long time since it’d been opened. Years and years and years. You’d lost track of the days quickly but it was long enough for you to accept that it’d been a very long time. Long enough to accept that when Michael took over Dean and threw you down in the windowless little room, Dean didn’t win that fight.

The only thing keeping you going aside from the spell Michael had put up to keep you permanently trapped, body stuck in time, was the desire to save Dean. Or what was left of him. You’d been alone for years, body having taken a beating by Michael when he first captured you. You were still covered in bruises, broken ribs that wouldn’t heal, pain in every breath. You didn’t sleep, didn’t eat. Solitude, cut off from the world, that was your main form of torture. Dean though...who knew what hell he was going through trapped with a psychopath like that for all these years.

You readied yourself, a dark figure walking inside the room. The room was pitch black to a certain point before you were trapped under a bright light you’d yet to figure out how to turn off. The figure stopped as their feet hit the brightness, a pair of brown boots and slim dark jeans all you could make out. They mumbled something and you felt the air shift slightly. You dared to reach at hand out to where the invisible wall keeping you trapped had been.

Your hand waved right on through it and you suddenly felt cool, clean air hit you. The person jolted when you sprang up, running away as you bolted for the door. You followed them up a flight of stairs and straight out into the foyer of a very nice house. You could see it was a man now and tackled him, straddling his hips and grabbing your knife from your waistband of your loose shorts, holding it to his throat. He breathed hard as you stared at him, cocking your head.

He was the spitting image of Dean. Mostly. His eyes weren’t green and there was something about his nose that reminded you of your own. The biggest tell of all though was the genuine fear in his face, the confusion.

“What’s your name,” you said. You held up the knife for a moment and tucked it away when you saw he was only focused on it. The young man, no more than twenty years old, took a deep breath. You yelped when he threw his legs up and wrapped them around your waist, yanking you off of him. He scrambled to his feet but you were on his tail, grabbing at his jacket. He spun around and popped you in the face, sending you to the floor.

You whined and cupped your cheek, the young man frozen in the doorway with a horrified look on his face.

“Who punches their own mom!” you shouted. He ran out the door and you went after, growling at your bare feet as he took off down the gravel driveway. “I’m gonna find you!”

You stomped your foot on the cool concrete front path, glancing to your right and spotting a sports car. You jogged back inside and found a pair of women’s sneakers, a little too big but you tied them tight and found some keys on a front table.

About two minutes later you were pulling up beside the guy on the road and hopped out of the car, the man running into the nearby treeline. You pulled out your knife and threw it, catching his jacket and pinning the sleeve to the tree trunk. He stumbled and fell down as you walked over, staring up with wide eyes. You sighed and ran a hand over your face.

“Can you at least tell me your first name?” you asked. He shook his head and you crossed your arms. “I bet your name is Lyle, isn’t it.”

“How’d you know that?” he asked, voice a bit higher than Dean’s but it made you smile, something warm and familiar to it.

“I’ve had a lot of time to think recently. Lyle is my top name for a boy if I ever had one,” you said. “So. Lyle Winchester.”

“That’s not my name,” he said. He stood up and pulled out the knife, carefully holding it out to you.

“You look just like Dean and me. You’re my son...somehow,” you said.

“Fine. My name is Lyle and that’s all I can say about myself,” he said. “I’m serious.”

You recognized the tone, that edge to it, the roughness but laced with an undercurrent of worry. Part of you wanted him to tell you everything about him but you knew he couldn’t, instead letting yourself give him a simple nod.

“I’ll make you a deal Lyle. I won’t ask questions about you that you can’t answer if you tell me how and why you got me out of there and answer anything else I want to know about this little situation.”

“Or else what?” he scoffed.

“Or else someday when you’re a teenager I won’t let you do anything. Lyle.” You took the knife from him and put it away, taking a deep breath. You stepped back out to the road, leaning against the car. You shut your eyes, something heavy draped over you. You peeled one eye open, Lyle leaning back against the car next to you in a blue flannel and dark gray t-shirt. His black hooded jacket was over your shoulders and you slipped your arms through the sleeves, wrapping them around yourself. You squeezed your eyes tight, shuddering before warm arms embraced you, Lyle almost as tall as Dean holding you close to him. “How did you know I was down there?”

“I can’t answer that,” he said.

“What year is it?” you asked.

“2089.” You froze, staring up at him. “Well, 2089 where we are right now is.”

“Lyle. It was 2018 when Michael took me. That’s not possible.”

“I can’t answer that either.” Tears welled up in your eyes and he hugged you again. “Sorry.”

“Dean was thirty nine the last time I saw him and it’s seventy one years later? He is dead. Sam is dead. They’re all dead so explain to me how the fucking hell I have a son with Dean!” you shouted. You pushed him away and ran your hands over your face. “Years. Fucking years I’ve sat down there waiting for him to come and get me. Him or Sam or someone. Fucking seventy one years!”

“Y/N,” he said, sounding a bit awkward but he cleared his throat. “I can’t answer everything because I don’t know everything. But I exist and that should tell you something.”

You wiped off your face with his sleeve and looked around, turning back and staring at him.

“I’m at the start of whatever this is and you’re way down the line,” you said. He nodded with a slight smile.

“I don’t understand it but this, where I’m from, this has already happened to you.”

“You’re from the future then,” you said.

“Not exactly,” he said.

“A different universe?” He looked at you like you were nuts and the air shifted, Lyle freezing. You turned and saw Jack, a smile on his face. “Jack?”

“Hi Y/N,” he said. He stepped over and gave you a big hug, a little bit of ache inside you easing finally. “Don’t worry about him. He’s just on pause.”

“Jack I don’t understand fucking anything. What’s going on?” you asked. He pursed his lips and sighed.

“Well you already figured out Lyle is your and Dean’s son. I didn’t think I could slip that one past you. But it had to be him that came and saved you.”

“Why?”

“Dean’s in heaven. Has been for 69 years.” You broke away from him feeling like you’d had a punch to gut and making you breathless. “I probably shouldn’t have told you that with the whole decades worth of trauma thing happening right now.”

“Did Michael…” you trailed off.

“No. A piece of rebar on a vamp hunt,” he said.

“He what?” you said.

“Yeah got pushed back on it. Sam was okay though. Oh and Dean had a dog for a few months.”

“Dean fucking died from that? That’s what kept him down?” you said. Jack nodded and you looked down, blinking your eyes. “Disregarding what is going on in my head right now about that, why didn’t you heal him? Or Castiel?”

“Well Cas was in heaven helping me rebuild after he sort of died and I brought him back. I kinda am the new God,” he said with a smile.

“I’m proud of that but again, why didn’t you come down here and heal Dean?”

“I’m sort of hands off in that regard,” he said. You were about to go off on him for that when it hit you.

“Jack how long have you known I was alive,” you said.

“2020 when I took over, I got these extra-”

“You knew I was alive and left me in a hole in the ground for over seventy years?” you said.

“Like I said, I’m hands off,” he said.

“I was your fucking mom! I took care of you! I protected you! I almost died for you more than once and when you find out I’m still alive you say fuck that bitch, she can deal with it on her own? What the fuck is wrong with you!” you shouted. You slapped him in the face, Jack pouting as you sank down to your knees. “I want Dean.”

“Y/N.”

“I want Dean and Sam.”

“Y/N-”

“I want Dean!”

“I can’t-”

“Fuck you! You’re as every bit as evil as that devil father of yours after all,” you said. You forced yourself to your feet, tears prickling in his eyes. “Oh did I hurt your feelings? Tough fucking shit! Do you realize that I have not only been stuck waiting for years but my body got stuck too. I’ve been sitting with broken ribs for seventy years. Every single breath excruciating.”

You yanked up your shirt, deep purple and black skin radiating across most of your abdomen. Jack reached out a hand and you moved back, dropping your shirt.

“I thought you were hands off. I don’t want your-” you said before warmth trickled through you, the pain gone, body feeling so strange at being without it.

“I don’t have to touch to heal you,” he said quietly. He swallowed and bowed his head. “I tried to let people live their lives without my interference and sometimes they’re messy but I’ve come to realize recently that’s wrong. A bit of help here and there is good. It gives people hope and maybe I should have done things different.”

“My family’s dead and I don’t want to wait around decades more to see them again in heaven. You’re going to-”

“No I won’t. Lyle’s life counts on you doing exactly what you’re supposed to as do your two other children’s. I can’t just put you in heaven. You can’t die right and you have to wait to see Dean until things work themselves out. Lyle’s going to be with you for a while and help get some things settled. It’s already set in motion so go with it,” he said.

“Jack I want Dean. Please,” you said. “Please Jack. Just five minutes.”

“Would you rather have your family back in the near future, alive, or would you rather have your and Dean’s souls torn apart and you never see him again, dead or alive? Rather he over there doesn’t exist? Rather no one exists?”

“I didn’t say that. Of course I would rather have them back alive-“

“Then be patient.”

“Jack. You gotta give me something. Something please.”

“I’ll talk to Lyle, tell him he can loosen up some. But I can’t tell you what to do. You have to follow your gut. Listen to Lyle and it’ll work out,” said Jack. You squeezed your eyes shut, Jack carefully resting a hand on your shoulder. “Do you hate me?”

“I hate that our family was ripped apart. I hate that you didn’t tell the boys I was alive once you knew. I hate that the last time I saw Dean alive we argued. I think what I hate most of all is that you treated us like everyone else. We’re not, Jack. We’re your family. All of us deserved a chance at normal and we didn’t get it.”

“Sam did.”

“How many years did Sam live without us? Without his brother?” you asked. Jack glanced down and you nodded. “You said you became God? Why didn’t you get rid of the monsters altogether Jack. Don’t tell me you don’t have that power.”

“I thought...I thought it was the natural order.”

“Yet you know there are other universes with no monsters at all. You could have taken the monsters away. Shit turn them human for all I care. The boys didn’t have to keep hunting after you took over. You could have been hands off and changed that one fact and saved so many lives, improved so many lives.”

“No. I couldn’t have changed it. Not back then.”

“Why the hell not?” you asked. He pulled his hand away and you found yourself in some clean clothes, Lyle’s jacket folded on top of the car.

“Because when I became God, I learned a lot. It sucks knowing that certain things have to happen and that I had to ignore when Sam prayed to me in that barn because things had to happen this way.”

“But why?”

“Because if I didn’t, if I’d intervened then and there, this universe, all of the ones I’ve been busy rebuilding, the way I’ve been rebuilding heaven...it’d be gone. Destroyed and I wouldn’t be able to put it back. It’s a temporary pain even if it doesn’t seem like it. So please, Y/N, please, listen to Lyle. Work with him. It’ll work out and things can be okay. You can have everything you ever wanted and more. You can have the freaking apple pie life and the no monsters and all of it but please understand you have more shit to go through first and whatever happens, do not let Lyle die.”

“He’s my son. I wouldn’t let that happen to him,” you said. Jack nodded and you grabbed his arm when he turned to leave. “You’ve grown up Jackie.”

“I’m still a baby by God standards,” he said.

“The guys take care of you after I was gone?” you asked.

“Yeah. I missed you though,” he said. “I accidentally killed Mary and sort of lost my soul for a bit. Things got bad for a while.”

“Do you see Kelly in heaven sometimes? Mary?” you asked. He nodded and you smiled. “Kids can fuck up and your parents will forgive you.”

“I’m sorry it has to be this way, Y/N. If I could snap my fingers to fix it all, stop it from ever happening, I would.”

“I’m going to trust that it had to be this way,” you said. “But give me a ballpark figure here. When do I get the guys back?”

“That’s relative. You’re going to end up breaking the space time continuum so it’s hard to answer that correctly.” You stared at him and he shrugged. “Not too long. A few days at most. I promise.”

“Wait is that how we have a twenty year old son?” you asked.

“Yes. The next time you see Dean he’ll be younger than the last you saw him. Just trust your gut and Lyle. Next time I see you I hope things are much better,” he said. You opened your mouth but he disappeared. You shook your head and turned around, Lyle now wearing his jacket, standing closer to the passenger seat door. For a long while you both simply stared, Lyle looking as if he’d just had his own long conversation with Jack.

“You can call me Y/N if that makes it easier,” you said. He nodded and you took a deep breath, going to the driver’s side. “So. What’s the next move?”

“Jack just said after I got you out we had to go to Lebanon. He didn’t tell me anything more than that,” he said.

“Any idea where we are?” you asked.

“San Antonio,” he said. “So we go North?”

“Yeah,” you said quietly. “Mind taking the first shift driving? I sort of haven’t slept in like seventy years.”

“No that’s fine,” he said. He walked around the front and you made your way to the passenger side, climbing in and sighing. He got behind the wheel and took a deep breath. “You and dad run a construction business.”

“That’s nice,” you said, smiling to yourself. “Dean’d be real good at that kind of thing. He’s really smart.”

“I know. Most guys can’t call up their dad for help on their architecture homework,” he said.

“You go to college?” you asked, Lyle nodding. “Do you know about...this stuff?”

“I’m still not convinced I’m not insane. I just got home on a friday night. We had dinner and everyone went outside to have a bonfire in the backyard. I went in to use the bathroom and Uncle Jack stopped me before I could get back outside. He said a lot of crazy stuff I didn’t believe but the fact you were in that basement...you and dad are only like forty but you’re obviously too old right now to have had me when that would have made sense and Uncle Jack said space and time is gonna break and-”

“Lyle,” you said, holding up a hand. “Relax. I just want to know, do you know what hunting is?”

“Dad doesn’t go hunting,” he said, narrowing his eyes. You smiled and nodded to yourself. “We don’t even own a gun.”

“I doubt that. But that must mean that something happens to the monsters along the way too.”

“What do you mean monsters? And why were you kidnapped in a basement? And what the fuck is going on? You’re supposed to be my mom that runs the family business and you kick ass in your soccer league in the summer and you can’t cook to save your life and that’s okay cause you’re really good at baking and pies and shit and I just don’t understand who you really are.” His face was flush, eyes fighting back tears. You smiled, reaching over and cupping his cheek.

“You’re a good guy Lyle. We obviously did something right,” you said, wiping away a stray tear that fell. “It’s scary. It’s really scary. I’m not your mom yet but I will be someday. I promise I will tell you everything you don’t know when I catch up to your time. Dean and I will. But we need to go to Lebanon and the faster we can go there and figure out what we have to do, the faster we can get you back home where you belong.”

“But can’t you-”

“This world isn’t safe, Lyle. It is very unsafe for a Winchester especially. Please drive now,” you said. You put on your seatbelt and he closed his eyes. “Please.”

“I was supposed to be having a smore right now,” he said.

“I know. But saving the world is kinda cool,” you said.

“I don’t want to save the world. I want to go home and not see my mom be beat to shit. I want my dad to go back to teasing me at dinner and not being dead,” he said.

“If we do this right, you can go back to that really soon. It hasn’t happened for me yet. We can talk all about this when you come back. The night you come back we can talk through it all. But we have to get going. The sooner we go, the sooner it goes back to normal.”

“It’ll never be normal again.”

“Yes it will. I promise.”

“How do you-“

“Because I just had this really bad thing happen to me but someday I’m going to have you and everything I ever wanted with Dean. So it sucks right now but it’ll be better eventually. I know it will. You’re here so I know it’ll be normal.” He nodded and wiped off his face, starting the car up again.

“Y/N. Are you okay after...you know...being down there beat up all that time?”

“Not really,” you said. He took off his jacket and handed it to you. You stared before he rolled his eyes, laying it over your front.

“Sleep. I can drive.”

“Lyle.”

“Y/N. Rest. It’s safe. I got this.”

“You take after your dad.”

“Take after someone else too,” he said. You smiled and nodded, resting your head on your shoulder, closing your eyes. “I’ll wake you up for breakfast.”

“Egg and-”

“Cheese on a biscuit, two breakfast burritos, extra hot sauce and a small hot latte.”

“At least my road trip order didn’t change,” you said, quickly relaxing and falling asleep for the first time in ages.

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A/N: Read part 2 here!

#tell me a story bingo #supernatural #spn #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester #supernatural fanfiction #dean #winchester #dean spn

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another-fantasy-world · 3 years

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The Idol’s Inspiration

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Title: The Idol’s Inspiration

Pairing: Valkyrae || Rachell x Fem! Reader

Summary: In which the international singer find’s her inspiration in a certain brown eyed-often screaming- streamer

Warnings: None? Fluff. Awkward Crushing. Top Rae? (Oh Gosh)

Word Count: 2,905 Words

@short-kid27 helped me with this one. Go check her out she’s actually great

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆ ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

You scoffed when you saw what your bandmate tweeted out, tweeting as if he wasn’t using his phone either. Deciding to throw something at him, you spot a plastic perfume bottle, reaching out for it, only for Luna, your other bandmate to slap your hands of her perfume bottle.

“Don’t you dare.” She playfully glares before turning back to her original position, with her hair stylist tending to her long reddish-brown hair.

“Sebastian, you are so lucky you’re on the other side of the room right now or I swear to God, you would have a concussion.” You frowned, before turning back to your phone, further proving Sebastian’s point.

“See?! What are you even doing?” He loudly asks, you barely hearing him from the noise of blowdryers.

“Writing.” You answered, annoyed. It wasn’t a lie tho, You were now writing a new song, since your management once again are rushing you to write at least 12 songs for your new album.

“We wrote 3 songs yesterday. Calm down.” Your bassist, Luna reassured you, who just finished her glams.

“We’re supposed to be finished with this by the end of the month. How am I supposed to calm down?” You complained.

Ever since your band, Coldify, got enough attention, your management barely gave you enough time to just breathe and write like you used to, How were you supposed to produce quality music?

“Choco Milk?” Jace, your drummer offers you his second cup

“No thank you. Hot sweet things stress my throat. Maybe later though.” You stood up, thanking your stylists, before changing into your casual clothes, since you would be doing a Q and A session first as a soundcheck and also for extra fan service before the concert proper.

Once you finished changing, you walked out of your dressing room, only to find that your bandmates are now all set up, all except you.

Jace is fiddling with his drum sticks

Luna is tuning her bass guitar

And Sebastian is playing a random tune on his electric guitar.

You rolled your eyes at them, before slinging your own acoustic guitar over your shoulder, the familiar weight and pressure of it’s strap makes you smile.

“Are we ready guys? We can start now, there’s only 5 minutes left.” You asked them, plugging in your “in-ears”

They all nodded at you and you guys started to do your signature intro, you playing a few notes on your acoustic, followed by Sebastian and Luna, then you all run out, hearing the screams of your fans intensify, before Jace started banging on his drums, ending your intro with all of you guys harmonizing your band name and lifting your right arms up, showing the compass tattooed into the insides of your wrists, symbolizing your band and the friendship that will never grow old.

“What is up LA!?” You loudly said into the mic, chuckling when they screamed louder than your own mic.

“Well, we certainly need to up the mic volume later.” Luna giggled, sitting on one of the chairs positioned in the middle of the stage.

“Mhhmmn. Let’s all calm down first yes? You guys save your energy for later.” Sebastian winked into the crowd, also sitting on one of the chairs, with his mic in his hand.

“Great, great. We’re all settled in, Please sit down and let’s start this 1 and a half hour Q and A? Soundcheck? Fan service? Whatever you want to call this whole shebang.” You joked, thanking the staff that gave you your own water bottle.

“You know the drill, if you don’t that’s fine. My name is Luna and I am the one who plays the amazing silver-gray bass back there.” Luna introduces herself

“That amazing silver-gray bass that you would marry someday. I swear you are inlove with that thing.” Sebastian teased, earning him a loud smack to the shoulder.

“That is animal abuse. Stop it.” You hold in your laugh, but bursted out laughing anyways when you saw the appalled look on his face.

“My name is Jace. And I bang my sticks into a hallow cylindrical thing for a living. I heard they’re called drums but whatever. I also live with these idiots and I, unfortunately, am the one who holds their leashes.” Jace introduces himself, smiling into the crowd

“Okay, Father. My Name is Sebastian. aka the most attractive one in this group. I play the guitarrrrrr. You guys can call me Seb, Sebastian or Daddy. Your choice.” He winked.

“Ew.” All three of you pretended to gagged, before laughing at Sebastian’s pouting face, your audience also laughing at your antics.

“Okay- Okay, Stop. We need to be serious. Gosh. My name’s Y/N! And I’m your local sapphic lead singer. Yes, I need to say that everyday because people still debate that I’m straight. It’s annoying” You introduce, taking a sip of your water

“Right. So this is how it’s gonna work. There are multiple Coldify interrogators, as we call them, roaming around, all you have to do, is raise your hand, first one they see wins the first question. And the cycle continues until we run out of time.” You explained

“HmmHmmn. So are you guys ready?” Luna asks, earning a few “Yes!” and “WHOOOOO” making all you guys chuckle.

“Okaaaay! on 3. 1,2,3! OH! That redhead with the all black attire. I like that.” Sebastian calls, waiting for the guy in the uniform to hand the girl the mic.

“What’s your name love?” Jace asked the now blushing girl

“Ah. Kadie. I just wanna say that I am such a big fan and I wanted to know if, besides the tattoo you guys have right now, the compass, are you guys still planning on getting a matching tattoo?”

“Ooooh. Tattooes. Hmm. I personally would love to have another tattoo. But you see, Sebastian here cried when we first tattoed. And I am not looking forward to that at all.” Luna answered, laughing when Sebastian whined.

“Oh yeah. No. Not again.” Jace agreed, while you just smiled and nodded.

“Next Question Please.” Sebastian interjected before you could even talk

“Hi my name’s Catherine-” You guys interrupted her to say hi

“Hehe. Hi. Uhm, I wanted to know if you guys have like, favourite youtubers or streamers?” She asks shyly, which made you smile.

“Oooooo. Okay, now you guys get to know why I tweeted that earlier.” Sebastian chuckles

“Okay Mr. Snitch. But uhm. I would have to say... Sykkuno. His voice is just the best-”

“Excuse me? Corpse?! Hello? Corpse has the best voice don’t even. He’s my favourite, what you said was just Corpse slander” Sebastian interrupts Luna, to which Luna answered with a glare.

“Uh-huh. Okay. As I was saying, Corpse’s voice is good, but Syk’s is just this wholesome anime type voice that just melt’s your heart you know? He should be a voice actor for like, an anime protagonist. AND HIS PERSONALITY IS SO GOOD AND WHOLESOME LIKE WHAT THE FUCK?” Luna gushes, nodding to Jace before she goes on a full rant

“I’m sure you won’t match with him, expecially since he’s quiet and you’re loud and abnoxious.” Sebastian casually says

“You know what?”

“Pokimane...” Jace speaks into the mic, interrupting the siblings from fighting. “...Because she’s actually a really good gamer, and she also has a cat called called “Mimi” and that’s major points in my book.” Jace says, smiling.

“Hmm. That’s actually a tough choice... I would have to say-” You were interrupted when your phone let out a noise, letting you know you forgot to silent it.

“BABUSHKA!” Your face felt hot as you desperately tried to put your phone in silent, but it was too late.

“My phone just outed me what the hell?” You mumbled into the mic, hiding your face as you hear your fans laugh and coo at your cuteness and embarrassment.

“Anyways, if that didn’t answer your question, I don’t know what will. But uhm, Valkyrae. 100 percent. She’s just really skilled in video games and has probably played more games than me. Also, she’s absolutely fucking gorgeous and I just love her personality and all.” You smiled, still feeling a little bit embarrassed

“I just love her personality- Please, last night you fell asleep to her playing a horror game. She screams alot in that video, I’m just saying. How could you sleep to literally her screaming in your ear?” Sebastian shrugs, ignoring the glares you sent him

“Just this morning, you were frowning because there was another viper on the team Rae was fighting against in Valorant, and you accused that viper of being a copycat.” Jace added

“Or the fact that you always flinch, or dodge and curse whenever someone shoots at Rae-” Luna finishes making you cover her mouth before she says something more

“Okay. I think it’s pretty obvious that I have a crush on Valkyrae but please- Stop.” You grumbled, frowning playfully at your fans when they awed at your band’s interaction.

“Next Fucking Question Please.” You huffed, closing your eyes and leaning back into your seat, trying to settle your beating heart

Rae will for sure see that. Oh my god. Thoughts of Rae seeing your clip of literally simping for her has your heart running marathons.

“Hi! Uhm, this question is for Y/N”

You hear the gasps of your bandmates, but you pay no attention to it since you were still gay panicking inside

“What will you do if you ever met Valkyrae in person?” a familiar voice echoed in your ears, you of course can’t figure out who it is.

“I honestly don’t know how I would react. Maybe faint? But then probably hug her? I dunno? Kiss her cheek maybe? I mean, how would you react if you meet your long time crush?” You answered mindlessly, chuckling silently knowing that you probably faint and be knocked out for God knows how long. Or maybe you’d fumble and embarrass yourself.

You hear your bandmates join in the laughter with the audience, and that made you open your eyes, throwing a confused glace to Luna who just patted your back and made eye contact with who, you presume, asked the question.

You followed her gaze, eyes widening when you saw the brown-eyed brunette beauty holding the mic. Your brain lagged, trying to comprehend the situation.

“Uhm, I mean- Unless, You know? She’s uncomfortable about it. I don’t wanna make her uncomfy, you get me? First impressions are a thing. I mean- I’m just gonna shut up.” You just spat words out before your brain could even comprehend it.

Come on Y/N keep it together. She gotta think that you’re cool. Not an awkward gay mess.

“Pfft- Little too late for the first impressions that included you being cool.” Jace threw his empty water bottle at you

“...I said that aloud didn’t I?” You asked, now trying to hide your face behind Luna’s back, who’s doubling over from laughter

“Please, someone tag me when you decide to upload this very moment. I wanna blackmail Y/N with it.” Sebastian wheezed out.

“I think we can do something with the hugging thing. Just don’t faint on me.” Your eyes snapped to Rae’s as you see the smirk etched on her face, her hands still holding the microphone

Your eyes widen as your fans, screamed and a series of “OOOOOOHHHH” and “Get it Y/N!” erupted, making your embarrassment amplify even more.

“Is it embarrass Y/N day today? God, please- Next Question please. Oh Jesus.” You put your face in your hands, trying to hide.

Thankfully, they didn’t pry anymore, your embarrassment slowly subsiding as they asked about your daily life, career, albums and upcoming awards. After finishing a couple more questions, you guys sang a couple cover songs, and that’s what concluded your soundcheck. (Sebastian managed to sneak in Janet’s PETTY song, which you rolled your eyes on but sang nonetheless.)

You walked out and to the backstage as you shoved Sebastian playfully for making kissy faces.

“Y/N and Rachell sitting on a tree-” He was suddenly cut off by someone

“K-I-S-S-I-N-G” Your gaze wonders to Pokimane, or Imane who just interrupted Sebastian

“Kissing?! Isn’t it a bit too early for that? Why would they kiss-” Sykkuno says glancing between Rae and I

You wondered if they said anything else because you’re going to be honest to yourself, you were only looking at Rae’s eyes. The deep brown orbs you only ever saw through your screen, was now staring right back at you, her brunette hair tied up in a bun- She’s staring back at you.

Quickly averting your eyes, you felt yourself grow shy, you now also find your shoes very attractive.

“Keep your head up or else you would faint on me and I don’t want that. I prefer to hug a conscious person, Thank you very much.” you lifted your head so fast you could’ve given yourself a whiplash. Darting your eyes around Rae, you quickly find that your friends + Imane and Sykkuno have left the both of you alone.

“Sorry. You just caught me off guard there. Hi! Uhm. I really don’t know what to say to you- Uhm.” You rub the back of your neck, nervously smiling at Rae you in turn smirked at you, raising her brow in the process.

She quietly chuckles before opening her arms, signaling for a hug, to which you launched yourself in, trying not to breathe because that would be so weird.

“Okay so now can you take out your knife and stab me just to make sure that this is real.” You stated, looking directly into her eyes

“...But I’m not the Impostor?”

“...Okay that’s clever-” You laughed, taking a sip out of your water bottle, leading her to your dressing room

“Speaking of, do you mind if I play with you guys sometimes? I’ll find time, I promise.” You say, watching the time considering you only have half an hour to change and get ready, not to mention your crush is right in front of you as well.

“Wait really? Yeah! Just DM me on twitter! I’ll organize a lobby just for you.” She replies, plopping herself on the sofa you have.

“Awe, I feel so... special” You smiled, finally composing yourself, emerging from behind the curtains, already in your performance outfit

“The almighty Creator of the Year, creating a lobby? For lil ol m-” You were greeted with a facefull of pillows thrown at you, just for that statement. Which made you laugh.

“Shut up.” She grinned

“I’m sorry, m’lady” You curtsied playfully, expecting her to start smacking your shoulders, instead when you lifted your head up, she was just sitting there with a soft smile on her face.

“You’re wearing my merch.” She stated

You widened your eyes then looked down, the hoodie that you just randomly picked up was her merch.

“I’m sorry, do you want it back?” You spit the words out before your mind could comprehend how idiotic that sounded

Rae bursted out laughing at your statement, putting her hand over her mouth while doubling over. You rolled your eyes at her and plopped down on the sofa, crossing your arms.

“Yeah, Yeah. Go on. Laugh. At least I can spell broccoli right.” You teased, poking her side

“OKAY! LISTEN HERE HOTSHOT! I-” she was interrupted by a series of knocks on the door.

“Y/N! PLEASE TELL ME YOU’RE DECENT AND IS NOT SEDUCING RAE BECAUSE THAT’S JUST WRONG” Sebastian loudly asked through the door

“Oh My God. Please just kill me.” You rubbed your face with your hands

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be the one doing the seducing but okay.” You hear her mumble under her breath, making you look at her with a scandalized look on your face

“DOOR’S UNLOCKED SEBASTIAN. DON’T BE AN IDIOT..” You replied

“Don’t mind him Y/N We’re just coming in to say that you have 5 minutes until we have to go onstage.” Luna softly replies, shoving Sebastian out your field of view.

“I’ll be right there Lune.” You stood up, smiling at Rae

“I guess that’s it. I’ll talk to you later? I think? Just check your DM’s soon yeah?” She pulls you into a hug, kissing your cheek as she pulls away.

“Good Luck out there. I know you’ll do great.” She smiles, walking out, leaving you to your thoughts

“Huh?” You touched your cheek, a smile slowly paints itself upon your face

"Come on, lovergirl we're running late." Jace drapes his arm around your shoulder

"She kissed my cheek." You say, still shocked

"Lucky You." Jace says, his ears reddening.

...lucky bastard

"POKI KISSED YOU TOO DIDN'T SHE?!" You screeched

'Hush!" His cheeks are also red now.

"Huh. I guess today's our lucky day." You grinned, now extremely happy and hyped

"Oh, check your e-mail now by the way. Manager says she sent our line up there." he pats your back, getting into his position, as best as he can considering the stage is now pitch black

"Huh. Okay." You pulled out your phone, sending a piece of paper flying. Bending down to pick it up, you feel your heart soften into mush and then it decides to run another marathon.

Just incase my Twitter DM's don't work, or if I'm streaming. xx 09-xxx-xxx-xxx

"Be still, my beating heart." You sighed out

Valkyrae just gave you her phone number

#valkyrae #valkyrae x reader #valkyrae imagine #There is no Corona in this fic thank God #rae x reader #Valkyrae Fanfiction #Shes so cute wth

336 notes · View notes

butwhatifidothis · 3 years

Text

Tumblr is starting to VERY MUCH dislike how long the other reblog chain is getting, so this will be Reblog Chain 2 of my jotting down notes of this fic. Here is the first reblog chain for Chapters 1-20

But it appears as though I was correct in sleeping off Chapter 20, because Chapter 21 is. Hm. bad. Very. Not good.

Chapter 21:

Transcript under the cut:

Chapter 21: It's Called Scars so it Gonna Be Ass

- To be blunt, the constant need to reaffirm that yes, Edelgard went through terrible experimentation and that yes, they were very horrific, is tiring. This is chapter 21. The experiments occurred in chapter 2. Every single chapter between now and then have, at some point, mentioned that INDEED, Edelgard DID in fact go through horrific trauma. It is tiring to the reader to constantly have to reread the same thing - we know it happened. We know it was terrible. There's no need to constantly say so; we already understand as readers.

- "Every time the spark of life broke through Byleth’s blank face, it brought a flickering hope to the Flame Emperor’s heart." ->

- Firstly: Awkward use of the Flame Emperor epithet (its usage is on and off with how appropriate its been - this is off).

- Secondly: Once again, Byleth's face was rarely if ever blank. She was never the Ashen Demon, as even the last chapter showcased. The author is mistaking reservation with emotionlessness, which is simply wrong

- "There had been so many empty days and nights, without friendship, love or joy. With nothing to hope for, except someday, the peace of the grave." -> Suicidal tendencies: another trait that Edelgard doesn't have... (strikes against canon: 89)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 12

- "Dimitri, too, was troubled by the thought, grasping the side of his head and frowning. As the spasm passed, he turned to Edelgard and smiled warmly." -> It seems a little callous to so casually toss Dimitri's symptoms into his interactions with others when such things simply don't occur in the canon interactions. It's not impossible, or strictly against canon, but it does not feel natural; it's more as though the author is shining bright neon signs that say DIMITRI HAS MENTAL HEALTH ISSUES than a genuine attempt at writing Dimitri's mental health issues. This is not the first time this sort of seemingly thoughtless showcasing of symptoms has happened (Noted separately: Dimitri having drastic mood swings)

- "No, this world must be ruled by humans…not cruel gods who ignored the prayers of little girls." -> This statement follows Edelgard internally chastising the actions of not gods, but the Children of the Goddess. This is a weaselly attempt at dodging Edelgard's racist beliefs that Nabateans should not be allowed positions of power by shifting the belief to apply to miscellaneous gods instead. While not inaccurate per se - she does also canonically believe that gods should have no power in human affairs - it is not honest

- "Byleth nodded with childlike simplicity. “We should all try to get along.”" -> Again describing Byleth as childlike and/or innocent. Counter: 3

- For those curious: yes, the rat scene is implemented, yes it is sloppy, yes it is out of character for Claude - so much so that it is being noted separately - and yes it is forced to all hell

- What will be noted here, however, is that this is yet another instance of a man being demeaned/humiliated for the honor of a woman. See quote: "Byleth was on him in an instant, a tempest forming in the sea of her blue eyes. “That isn’t funny.” She crossed her arms sternly. “Jokes are about bringing people together...about making them smile. Right now, the only person laughing is you.”" with Claude reacting awkwardly. Once again, Man Bad Woman Good

- In a showcasing of a complete lack of self-awareness within the fic: "“Maybe if you’d have taught the Deer instead…but since you seem to have no ambitions outside of cleaning up Edelgard’s messes…”" -> This is Claude being portrayed as the bad guy, not the one being completely and utterly right

- " She slapped Edelgard on the back, and smiled heartily. “I agree, Dimitri!” Edelgard grimaced, trying to hide the fact her teacher had just struck the wound she had received during the mock battle." -> As well as where undoubtedly countless scars would be, yes? Scars that still cause Edelgard pain? In fact, Edelgard has been slapped on the back by Byleth and Jeralt numerous times before, and yet expresses no pain or discomfort.

- Another thing, that I had not noted though ought to have: Edelgard, a victim of sexual assault (in this fic), rarely seems to mind people touching her. She gets a little surprised if someone tries to get her attention with touch, yes, but Byleth's constant unprompted and random touching of Edelgard is never said to do anything but bring warmth and joy and comfort to Edelgard. It seems as though Edelgard suffering through sexual assault is just another source of trauma for the author to dump onto her for nothing more than pity points

- This is incredibly harsh to say, yes, and I would usually refrain from attributing such harshness onto a piece of text, but remember that Edelgard's scars only cause her pain when it's convenient, that she only experiences headaches when it's convenient, that she experiences PTSD episodes (when Claude mentions the rat) when it's convenient (note that in this fic he does it outside of battle, where her getting triggered wouldn't compromise her chances at victory). Edelgard not being touch averse and being a victim of sexual assault are not inherently something bad - survivors react to trauma differently, after all - but it is another in a steadily longer line of instances where Edelgard is simply given trauma for the sake of making her pitiable to the reader and the love interest, not something that Edelgard genuinely has to struggle with.

- "As Claude and Dimitri looked at their classmate expectantly, Edelgard was wracked with another bout of guilt. Deep in her soul, the princess knew these peaceful days would end soon. When that happened, no feast or vows of friendship could make up for the chaos and horror she would unleash. It would be better to pull away, close off her heart, rather than fuel the flames of her inevitable betrayal." -> Aka, "Feel bad for me, I feel guilty for planning to cause the death and ruination of countless innocents' lives all because I convinced myself that my way is the only way to get things done my way without ever actually trying to see if more peaceful ways could have worked. I'm going to orphan children, force families to fight each other, have the land be rampaged by banditry, and overall bring chaos onto these days that I ADMIT ARE PEACEFUL all because I feel that my way would be better. Wah wah pity me but I don't wanna be pitied I promise wah wah."

- "Byleth shrugged with a characteristic blend of innocence and spirit. “I guess I just like winning.” She began to blush and grabbed Edelgard’s hand. "It's so exciting! I’ve never had anyone other than Papa to celebrate with before!”" -> Byleth = innocent/childlike. Counter: 4

- The fic likes to reaffirm again and again that Byleth is "now" only acting like this due to Edelgard's presence in her life. Note also these statements written previously: "Every day, [Edelgard] was watching the person she loved grow and change. Become who she always was supposed to be." This, perhaps unintentionally, again enforces the "Lesbian Love is Pure and Innocent" trope; these wlw are only allowed to be their good girl, innocent selves - who they were always supposed to be - due to the pure lesbian love they have found with one another

- Count Bergliez didn't know of the experiments initially, but he eventually found out and did nothing to stop them, fleeing from a young and tortured El who was pleading for him to save her - Unnecessarily painting Count Bergliez as a spineless coward too afraid of Duke Aegir to save a child in pain

- Once again, a man fails to save a woman and further traumatizes her

- It should be noted that Bergliez is fearful not for his own life, but for that of his children, who were the ones Duke Aegir threatened. He, very similar to Ionius, cannot save Edelgard, except Bergliez (unlike Ionius) has a tangible, physical, explainable reason as to why he couldn't, and yet it is him who is painted as the bad guy, not Ionius. He is worthy of Edelgard's scorn and hatred, but Ionius only receives a begrudging feeling of betrayal from Edelgard that she feels guilty for harboring, even though he failed her far more than Bergliez failed her.

- "Daughters must always be loyal to their fathers" trope

- "No decent person thought the things Edelgard did. Just as her body had been twisted and shattered by the experiments, her mind bore terrible scars. Scars that the monster kept hidden, so she could walk in the world of men." -> Dehumanizing oneself as a monster as well as having violent thoughts (that specifically stem from trauma) one feels guilty for harboring are not traits Edelgard shows in canon... (strikes against canon, 90, 91)

- ...but Dimitri does. Counter: 13, 14

- "world of men?" Did the author perhaps mean "world of man," as in mankind? Keep note of

- The reason as to why Bergliez is said to have witnessed young El's tortured state and did nothing to help her is revealed: in canon, he dislikes her. It is blatantly and objectively said that he and Edelgard share a mutual displeasure in the other's company. What this fic had him do will be used as an excuse as to why he doesn't hate her, since no one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Edelgard, upon being asked if revenge is the reason she is doing what she's doing (reuniting Fodlan): "“No.” Edelgard put her hand to her chin thoughtfully. “I think for a long time, it was…but after a while, I realized that revenge wouldn’t satisfy me.” She looked at the blue sky above. “After you go through that much suffering…when you beg for help, day after day, and no one cares...you realize that nothing will ever truly make you feel safe again. The only thing I want is for this madness to end.”" -> This is internally inconsistent. See chapter 15 note: ""You know why they created me in the first place.” / “To reunite Fódlan,” spat Hubert. “It was all my father talked about.” / “And I will give it to them. "" This directly connects Edelgard's want to reunite Fodlan to the wants of her tormenters (as this states she is doing it out of spite). Note how Hubert spits at the idea of reuniting Fodlan, and how it was all his father - portrayed as a villain - talked about. This is not what this Edelgard wants, at least not of her own independent want. Earlier in this very chapter, Edelgard internally states a want to hurt Bergliez for leaving her behind. To say that she now no longer thinks vengeance would satisfy her, or that none of the reason that she is doing everything she does is out of a want for revenge, is ridiculous

- Edelgard to Bergliez, upon being asked what will happen to him and his family should Edelgard rise to power: "“All those who distinguish themselves will be rewarded. Given your history, I have little doubt you will be among them.” She nervously played with her white gloves. “All I ask is that when I seize back control of the throne, I can count on the military’s support.”" -> Yes, all who distinguish themselves to Edelgard, for Edelgard's cause, that Edelgard can see and/or know of. How likely is it that a poor farmer who is exceptional at fighting will actually be noticed by Edelgard and be given the credit he deserves, when others who may not be as meritable but do have some merit have the connections to show themselves directly in front of Edelgard? What means will Edelgard give the poor soldiers (that she or Byleth aren't already friends with, notably Dorothea and Leonie) that will allow them to be able to be seen by her and have their merits recognized? Edelgard is the one who says who gains power after all, so it is her they must prove themselves to, but how can they realistically do that?

- What about professions that are not immediately beneficial to Edelgard's cause, such as the arts? How will they fare in Edelgard's society, when their works and talents yield no tangible, objective results (such as, say, farming)?

- Something the fic will address?

- Edelgard does not nervously do anything in front of those she is trying to negotiate with in canon, not even Thales. Strikes against canon: 92

- "[Bergliez] could only laugh in response. “I think we’re going to get along rather well, my lady…and the other?”" -> Except Bergliez and Edelgard don't get along well, ever. Pre ts they are stated to dislike each other, which continues even onto post ts with Bergliez being the only noble Edelgard couldn't bring to heel. Strikes against canon: 93

- As predicted: No one is allowed to dislike Edelgard on the "good" side

- Literally forgot Hubert was with Edelgard and Bergliez lmao

- Ionius tried to consolidate power to be rid of the consort system due to his unending love for Anselma -> A ridiculous idea, plain and simple. Ionius was Emperor. If he wished to be rid of the consort system there was no need for him to try and take away all power from the other Imperial houses.

- If Ionius truly loved Anselma, why did he allow her to be exiled from the Empire? Why didn't he step in and use his influence as Emperor to help her?

- Edelgard, when she is Emperor - passed down a supposedly empty crown, at that - showcases the all-encompassing power the title of Emperor truly holds to one willing to use that power. That Ionius supposedly wanted to do all of these reforms and yet nothing at all was done, ever (save for ruining Houses Hrym and Ordelia, something even this fic has as canon), if Ionius did want to make these reforms, means that he was too spineless and cowardly to truly go through with trying to pass them. This again unintentionally showcases how awful a ruler and weak-willed a person Ionius was when he had power when trying to paint him in this righteous light.

- Lambert was stated to be trying to pass reforms before he died in canon, not Ionius. From parents to the children, the author is attributing traits from Lambert onto Ionius just as he (author's confirmed gender is male) attributes traits from Dimitri onto Edelgard

- " Her father and mother…she had thought their romance a fairy tale-a story from her father to make a motherless child feel valued. But…they truly had loved each other." -> Edelgard does believe Ionius when he told her of the story of when he and Anselma (supposedly) met each other. There is nothing to indicate that Edelgard thought it to be a lie: in fact, in canon: "But I choose to believe there was genuine love between them." Strikes against canon: 94

- It seems as though finally, after around 18 chapters, Edelgard's scars will finally cause her genuine inconvenience due to her complex about them as well as her trust issues. She has a gash on her back from the Battle of Eagle and Lion, but will not have it treated if Manuela isn't the healer, and yet the woman is occupied dealing with the rest of the students who were injured. How will this fic deal with this?

- Ingrid, referring to her and Sylvain: ""We just switched from Felix lecturing us all day to listening to Edelgard moralizing, didn’t we?"" -> The author is trying to compare a childhood friend whose friends have had years to get used to their barbed tongue to a stranger that directly insults the dreams of one of them. Something which Ingrid canonically hates having be done to her, even from Felix, a childhood friend. Once again, Ingrid being so casual about Edelgard being so disrespectful of her dreams is out of character. Strikes against canon: 95

- "Sylvain shook his head knowingly, ignoring Felix’s truly alarming scowl. “You should have seen his face, Edelgard. Dimitri would go on and on about this girl he met when he was a kid…and Felix would complain about her for hours!” He looked at Felix and smiled. “For all his whining about the “Boar,” nobody loves Dimitri more than him.”" -> Oh? A romantic gay male relationship presenting itself within the fic?

- Another vision of SS experienced by Edelgard. Word from a nameless guard: "The woman, Byleth, leading their forces... She’s not human! She killed half my battalion with one swing of that sword of hers. She didn’t speak, she didn’t shout, she didn’t even change her expression!” The panicked man was teetering on the edge of hysteria. “All those people rallying around her, and it’s like she doesn’t care at all. Like she's a walking corpse!"" -> Obviously saying that Byleth becomes the Ashen Demon if not allowed to be with Edelgard.

- Unintentional statement: Byleth can't be the pure innocent (lesbian) woman without Edelgard's (lesbian) love granting her purity, reverting her to a monstrous, corrupt demon incapable of humanity

- See chapter 20 note: "Implying that choosing SS - aka, choosing the Nabateans - makes Byleth less human. Intentional?" Confirmed to be intentional. Also false: in canon, even when accounting for CF's lesser chapter count, Byleth emotes far more on SS than on CF, which matches with CF having Edelgard call Byleth detached in their A support. Strikes against canon: 96

- The same nameless soldier, same context: "And those Faerghus kids…” / Edelgard leaned forward in her chair. “Ingrid…Sylvain…what of them?” / “They…they were animals. Screaming and ranting about revenge for the King.” -> Is the author really demonizing Sylvain and Ingrid for (potentially!) being mad at Edelgard for murdering one of their childhood friends? Is that really the depths the Edelgard worship will sink to, that friends becoming enraged at a friend's unjust murder from a warlord is being portrayed as something sad for the warlord? Just what else should Edelgard be pitied for?

- "The scared girl desperately tried to drown out the thoughts that reverberated incessantly. / They’re going to despise us…it’s destiny. And how could they not? If we were truly good, the Goddess would have saved us…protected us. But She didn’t. The Goddess took Mother. She took our family. And soon, She’ll take everything else we love. She hates us. / It’s what we deserve." - Now confirmed that Edelgard hears multiple voices in her head tormenting her. That trait that, once again, Edelgard does not have... (Strikes against canon: 97)

- ...but Dimitri does. This is the third time this chapter that this has happened, and far from the only chapter to display such baffling characterization of Edelgard via Dimitri's traits. It is nonsensical.

- " Why had [Edelgard] even been born at all? Nonexistence would have been preferable to watching every faint dream be dashed, to suffering alone over and over. She was just…so tired of being alive." -> Once. Again. Suicidal tendencies/thoughts is not a trait Edelgard shows in canon... (Strikes against canon: 98)

- ...but Dimitri does. The fourth! The fourth time in one chapter the author desperately wanted to just write Dimitri!

- If the fic wanted to take Edelgard in a different direction than canon does and has her display some of these traits, it would be more passable, but this fic is under the delusion that it is in any way following canon closely, especially in regards to Edelgard, and so this can only be seen as a desperate attempt from the author to have Edelgard be sympathetic by donning the skin of an actually sympathetic character such as Dimitri

- "Edelgard looked at herself in the mirror. The back of her academy uniform was stained red, the rhythmic, soft dripping of blood assaulting the princess’ ears." -> And no one commented on this? No one was worried? Not Ingrid, Sylvain, and Felix, who were sitting right by her? Not Lysithea, who saw her take the blow to her back and never get it healed? Not Dimitri, who delivered the blow? It just so happened that literally no one at all noticed this?

- Byleth literally slapped Edelgard on the back earlier? Wouldn't her hand come back red with blood if it were seeping through the uniform?

** The scene that follows the previous note is too long to quote, despite how truly terrible it is. Long quotes, even extremely long quotes, have been presented in these notes before, but the length this quotation would be if the full extent of it were written here would be a mess, and quite frankly, at that point it would do one better to simply go to the fanfiction itself and read the text from there. With the context received from these notes, if one wishes to see the words for themselves, go to chapter 21 of The Emperor and the Goddess, enter Ctrl + F (or Find in Page on mobile devices), and enter the phrase "Byleth crossed her arms, clearly frustrated" verbatim. The following note will not be quoting the entire scene from the fic (merely summarizing it), though context is needed to understand how truly bad the scene is. **

- To have hope in this fic performing anything correctly is proving to be a fool's dream, for it has yet to do anything right; that includes the aforementioned gash upon Edelgard's back. As stated, it did not draw the attention of those who were sitting around her nor did it draw the attention of the one who witnessed the injury itself, nor of the one who delivered the injury itself, so no one commented on the gaping, bleeding wound Edelgard was "hiding" from everyone as she turned her (bleeding) back to them and left for the baths to clean up (it must be heavily stressed: immediately after leaving it is revealed that the blood is seeping through her uniform). As she was washing - naked, of course - Byleth just so happened to step into the baths with only a towel wrapped around her "for modesty," much to the horror of Edelgard, for she does not want Byleth seeing her scarred body. A slight argument arises between the two over Edelgard getting her injuries checked, before Byleth warns Edelgard that she will go to Rhea and force her to go to the infirmary should Edelgard continue to refuse treatment, which drives Edelgard past the brink. She raises her arms from the bathwater and presents her scars (""Fine!... If you want to see so badly, here!""), to the horror of Byleth ("Byleth Eisner was not a woman given to strong emotional reactions, but she staggered back, hands over her mouth."). Edelgard cries in hysteria, fear of her beloved teacher running away in disgust over her ugly, mutilated body overwhelming her. But Byleth, childlike in her innocence, shared that she too is scarred in strange ways, and that she too is scared of failing those around her - that she has no ambitions save to help and protect those around her. Byleth reveals that it is Edelgard whom Byleth looks up to for always being so strong and always moving forward, and shows that without Edelgard Byleth wouldn't know how to handle the pressure everyone else puts on her. The exchange ends with Byleth reassuring Edelgard that she is beautiful and not the monster she thinks she is.

- There is no nice way of putting this: this is a classic example of how not to write someone opening up to another about something. Edelgard views herself as weak, ugly, repulsive, a monster, shameful, but it is Byleth's love and affection that gives her comfort and warmth, that gives her hope of something more. It forces Byleth to behave wildly out of character (the author can try to excuse this with "well she wouldn't normally behave like this!" all he wants, it doesn't matter when it goes against the base, canonical Byleth. Strikes against canon: 99) in order for Edelgard's scarred body to be seen as something that is repulsive, that is ugly, that is stained, so much so that the pure, childlike, innocent Byleth couldn't stand to see something so tainted. And yet it is that same pure, childlike, innocent Byleth's pure, innocent, childlike love that pushes away the pain of Edelgard's scars for just that moment. Other characters become suddenly blind and/or forgetful of Edelgard's obvious, bleeding wound so that it is Byleth who can be the one to save Edelgard with her pure, innocent, childlike presence and her pure, innocent, childlike uncertainty about her own insecurities (but only when it is convenient for Edelgard, as even Byleth didn't noticed the gaping, bleeding wound until she was alone with Edelgard where no one could interrupt their bonding moment). This scene is inorganic and forced, ham-fisting Edelgard and Byleth in the same room - the wash room, where both are either naked or nearly naked - so that Byleth is the one to find Edelgard, no one else. No one was worried enough about the sudden exit Edelgard took from the conversation she was having to follow her and make sure she was alright, and Byleth just so happened to enter the baths right after Edelgard. The scene is, to be frank, insulting.

- There have been a couple of joking references to a book titled Stones to Abigail in these notes, but in all seriousness, this scene plays unsettlingly similar to a scene in said book, where a scarred girl who is naked reveals her "ugly" and "revolting" scarred body to the love interest, who goes on to soothe and comfort the naked girl as best they can. The resemblance is uncanny

- Byleth described as childlike/innocent. Counter: 5

- Edelgard, in canon, never expresses feeling herself to be ugly, or repulsive, or a monster. Strikes against canon: 100

- Again, Edelgard's scars are only important when they are convenient - this time, in helping develop the romantic relationship between her and Byleth

- There are ways in which scars can be utilized without being problematic, but certainly not when this much focus is placed on them and yet they are only truly present when they cannot hinder Edelgard.

- Perhaps particularly insulting is this phrase from Edelgard: "Did she actually love Byleth at all, or just being saved by her?" Yes, Edelgard, you do simply want to be saved by Byleth, because that is precisely what the narrative has been drilling into the reader's heads ever since Byleth showed herself. Byleth is Edelgard's light, Byleth is Edelgard's hope, Byleth gives Edelgard back her humanity, Byleth is Edelgard's one source of joy, Byleth is Edelgard's entire life, and nothing, absolutely nothing in this fic has shown this to ever be a bad thing. This dependence on Byleth to bring Edelgard joy at the near complete expense of everyone else has been propped up as something romantic, and yet it's now, 21 chapters and over 85K+ words in, that we're supposed to believe that this was actually Edelgard being unhealthy? Even though the author himself said that this was what he enjoyed about their relationship, how much they found each other in each other? Even though we see what the author thinks would happen to the two of them should they separate - Edelgard, lonely and afraid without her beloved teach, and Byleth, the Ashen Demon who cares for nothing without her beloved student - in her visions of SS? This is a joke

- It cannot be overstated that Byleth came to the bathhouses completely independently of Edelgard. She did not come to specifically see her because she followed her out of worry for Edelgard due to her injury - she only knows that Edelgard's injured in the first place due to seeing bloody bandages that Edelgard removed in the bathhouse, before Byleth arrived.

- Author's notes: "On Bergliez, we find out very little in-game, but he 1) offers himself for execution so his men can go free in SS and 2) seems to be actually competent at his job. I thought a nuanced portrayal was more interesting, since I've been writing Aegir as the absolute worst person in the world." -> Note: this is what the author believes to be a nuanced take on someone. Someone who likes Edelgard entirely and does nearly whatever they can to help her, but they did one thing that's morally gray (leaving a child behind to save his own children from the same fate) that is portrayed as objectively bad, so now they are nuanced. While perhaps this sort of character would be truly nuanced in better hands, as it is with his actions being portrayed as something that is obviously so completely and utterly wrong and him someone who deserves complete and utter condemnation - and yet Ionius, who does far worse for far less understandable reasons, gets a comparative slap on the wrist - it causes confusion as to Edelgard's lines. Bergliez seeing her the one time and never helping her is enough for her to want to hurt him as she was hurt, but her father repeatedly coming to and "being forced" to watch her actively be tortured and doing nothing does little to invoke similar depths of resentment? Even granting the idea that "she gives more slack to her father," Ionius is objectively and far worse than Bergliez, down to doing hard things to protect their children, and yet it is only Bergliez who is shined in this unpleasant a light

- To be clear, Bergliez's decision was not a good one, but understandable. It is a gray decision to make. But notice how he is called "gray" and "nuanced" and yet Ionius is nearly completely innocent, as described by the author himself, despite their being no given explaination as to why "he was a figurehead" should be a good enough reason to wash him literally standing there and watching as his children - some of whom aren't even teens yet - get slowly tortured and killed.

- "There are many localization changes I understand (Byleth wanting to get drunk after the battle is one of them), but Treehouse's decision to remove Ionius' entire reason for power centralization (eliminating the consorts) was a big, big mistake." -> Given the history of this author's grasp on the Japanese language, this needs to be checked, as he cannot be trusted as a source as to whether this is true

******* Notes of Claude mischaracterization: Chapter 21, section 1, paragraphs 1, 21 & 23, 27 *******

#o captain my captain #is the Cap'n's name fuckin' Greg holy shit #this chapter was baaaaad #b-but hey maybe i'm just being overly critical?

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amazingmaeve · 3 years

Text

atelophobia

atelophobia is the fear of imperfection. the fear of never being good enough

request - hello !! i've been wanting to see more sam wilson fics so do you mind if i request a soulmate au one and y/n and sam are frenemies of somesort? 🥺

summary:

y/n and sam haven’t been the best of friends. he always annoyed her and she annoyed him. he hates how snippy she is, she hates how sarcastic he is. however some jokes of his make her crack a rare smile and sometimes he catches that. two people made for each other.

warnings - angst, fluff

word count - 3.2k

a/n - its an au so no endgame/infinity war stuff happened. also no thanos. it’s my first time writing for marvel so go easy on me! also a happy late birthday to sam as well!

marvel masterlist // sam wilson masterlist

“Why did you assign me with Wilson,” Y/N seethed out questioning the man in front of her. Her arms are crossed on her chest with anger burning in her eyes.

The man before her, Steve Rogers, raises an eyebrow at her sudden outburst. Sure the meeting was already done but he didn’t expect her to be this angry about it. Steve thought that Y/N and Sam were getting along better now and this could help them get along even better. But apparently he was wrong.

“I thought you two were okay,” Steve asked, confused in his voice as she rolled her eyes.

She didn’t hate Sam. No one could really hate Sam. But sometimes he got on her nerves and she has a short temper and the conversation usually ends up in an argument with both of them stomping away. Y/N was always serious about the work so no one would get hurt.

So it irked her when Sam would be casually joking while on a rescue mission or a mission in general. While Sam hated how Y/N would never have any fun, yes Sam did take his work very seriously but he wanted to make the time more bearable for everyone.

So when Y/N snaps at him whenever he makes a joke or just laughs in general he gets kinda pissed off about it. She’s just so unbearable sometimes that it increased his anger even more.

For the past few months everything was fine between them. Of course not finding her soulmate was bad. She hated feeling alone while couples scattered across the Avengers tower. Y/N would roll her eyes everytime Wanda asked if she ever wanted a soulmate and she would respond no. She thought that all the time ‘I don’t need anybody’ but deep down she wanted to have someone to love her and to love someone.

At least there were some Avengers who haven’t found the one.

Sam this last month has been growing on Y/N. He’s been more nice and actually funny in her eyes. He would crack jokes at the right time which would make her let a little laugh out much to Sam’s confusion. It was common that Y/N didn’t smile often. But then everything changed.

One mission which was a rescue mission ended up real bad. It was a mission that only her and Sam attended since everyone thought it would be easy. But Y/N turned the corner and had a fist to the face, she attempted to grab the gun she dropped but the guy shot her in her stomach making her lay down on the floor, holding the wound. Blood was seeping out of it fast and she could feel her vision get real blurry.

Y/N thought she would die there on the floor and she was fine with it as long as Sam got the hostages home safe and him safe as well.

But when she felt herself almost get lulled into unconsciousness a figure appeared before her and soon she realized it was Sam. He looked down both halls to make sure no one was coming before kneeling down before her worriedness in his eyes.

“You’re gonna be okay,” Sam reassured, putting pressure on the wound. His words sounded like he was talking far away. Tears quickly blurred her vision as soon she realized he wasn’t going to get the hostages.

“You-you have to…..” Y/N began to say but flinched when Sam put even more pressure on the oozing wound.

“Don’t talk you can’t waste your energy,” Sam interrupted her and then picked her up bridal style and began to walk her out of the building. Y/N flinched and looked back to see if she saw the hostages anywhere but her vision was getting blurred again.

“The-the hostages,” Y/N stuttered though pain and biting into her lip from screaming out in pain.

“There fine I got everyone in there handled,” Sam reassured as they reached out doors and then lifted himself up and flew across the sky towards the Quinjet that got them there. Y/N closed her eyes and hid her face in his neck as her arms wrapped around his neck. Her heart was pounding as pain pulsed through her body. God she hoped the people were safe.

Then out of nowhere Y/N and Sam heard an explosion and Sam turned around to see the building that was just standing there was up in flames and smoke. Before Y/N could do anything she passed out in his arms as the pain began to get too much for her.

When Y/N woke up Steve was there with Natasha and he explained to her that the hostages unfortunately passed because there was the explosion.

Y/N felt tears fill her eyes as she sat up on the hospital bed. Steve and Natasha left to give her some space as she wondered where Sam could’ve gone. If she would’ve been more aware of her surroundings she wouldn’t have gotten shot and they would've got everyone out safe and fine. She failed them. And she failed her whole team.

Of course she was angry with Sam after this, he should’ve left her there so more people could’ve lived. But she was more angry at herself. She couldn’t face Sam or anyone for a few days. Y/N was awkward around Sam and had anger radiating off her while she talked to anyone. So people avoided her.

That’s why she didn’t want to be paired with Sam. She didn’t want to have history repeat itself.

“I’m sorry Y/L/N but you’re going to have to face him someday,” Steve apologized. He saw how affected she was about this and maybe Sam could help her get over it since he was there with her when it happened.

“Fine,” Y/N scoffed, bumping into his shoulder as she walked off to her room to get ready for this mission.

Her heart was beating as she started to get more and more nervous about this whole thing. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt because of her. She didn’t want anyone to die. So she wouldn’t be having Sam’s jokes or his snide remarks this day, she needs to be on point.

Y/N got all of her weapons ready before walking out of her room and finally reaching the Quinjet where Sam was sitting down cleaning his guns out. Once he heard her enter the room a smirk graced his lips.

“Look who finally decided to show up,” Sam laughs, turning around to look at her but only finding her face clenching in anger. His brow furrowed in confusion not knowing what was going on with her.

“Let’s get this over with,” Y/N grumbled, taking a seat and getting all of her weapons in place. Sam snickered at her attitude with confusion all over his face.

Of course he knew that Y/N was upset but Sam thought she was over it by now, but he hasn’t seen her this past few weeks but he heard from Bucky that she was in a horrible mood. Sam sighed before going to sit next her which made her huff out of annoyance.

“Okay what’s your problem,” Sam snapped, turning to face Y/N who had shock written all over her face.

“Nothing,” Y/N lied straight through her teeth, not meeting Sam’s gaze which was burning a hole into the side of her head. She didn’t want to tell him that the reason she’s all broody is because of her own failure.

“I know you’re lying so just tell me the truth so we can at least tolerate each other,” Sam says frustration running through his veins as he rubs his forehead.

When Y/N didn’t respond Sam scoffed.

“Fine let’s just get through this and I’ll talk to Steve about us never going on a mission again,” Sam retorted then standing up and sitting on the other side of the Quinjet.

Y/N looked at him in shock, even though she showed signs that she didn’t like working with him, he was really fun. Now because of her own insecurities and failures she’s going to lose an incredible friend or enemy depends on how you see it. Of course Y/N knew it wasn’t his fault, it was her own. Y/N had to prove that she isn’t this failure that Sam or Steve sees in her.

She saw it in Steve's eyes when she was in the hospital and she believes that she just saw it in Sam’s eyes just now. Deep down she knows she’s a failure and it cuts to her deep to the core to even think about admitting it. The mission she failed just proves it to herself and everyone else even more. God she can’t even do her own job right.

Ever since Y/N was young she was all about being perfect. The perfect grades, the attitude, and eventually to try to be the perfect fighter. Imperfection haunted her as the people in her life, she believed were better than her and sometimes didn’t even like her. Steve usually didn’t talk to her unless it’s work, same with Natasha. Bucky never talks to her, Tony’s too busy in the lab, same as Bruce. Wanda was very sympathetic towards her though since she’s looked through Y/N’s mind. Wanda and Y/N are friends and Wanda is her only friend. Vision was more of an acquaintance.

Sam was different though. She felt the need to prove herself to him. Y/N didn’t know why she felt this since she never felt this towards anyone on the team so why should it matter what he thinks. Sam was an enigma to her, he was an amazing fighter and had this charming personality that made her want to smile but she was too stubborn to do so.

This fear of imperfection ruins things in her life sometimes.

The mission was a success and Y/N gave it her all as she got everyone out okay and the bad guys were all on the way to prison. But it filled that whole in her heart, it didn’t prove anything to her or to anyone.

So whenever she feels frustrated she goes to the gym and let’s all of her frustration on the boxing bag. Y/N is usually here often. She likes to stay fit and it acts as some sort of therapy to her. While she was too busy punching the bag someone entered the room and she didn’t even hear it.

“Damn what did that punching bag ever do to you,” Sam’s voice rang through her ears and she dropped her arms to her side and let out a long sigh before turning to face him. He was in his usual work out gear with a smirk spreading across his lips.

“It broke my heart and dumped a year ago,” Y/N responded, a sarcastic tone in her face as her arms crossed around her chest. Sam let out a laugh at her monotone voice and clearly didn’t seem amused.

“That is the first time I’ve ever heard a joke,” Sam chuckled.

“What are you talking about? I'm a very amusing person,” Y/N let out a tiny smile on her lips.

“Who told you that lie,” Sams’ eyes narrow in confusion.

“Piss off Wilson,” Y/N grumbled wondering why she was joking around with the man. But that conversation caused some butterflies in her stomach. She turned around and bent over to grab her stuff.

When she turned around it showed the soul mark that has been there ever since she turned 18. To Sam’s dismay and his eyes widened in shock as the soul mark matched the same to his on his shoulder. Before he could even mutter a word Y/N left the gym giving him a sarcastic smile.

Sam just stood there in shock. His soulmate has been there all along and he didn’t even notice it. He didn’t know how to feel about it, of course he found Y/N attractive and her attitude was sometimes tolerable. But she made it very clear she was all work and no play. Deep down he knew he felt something for her even before he found out about the soul mate crap.

“Sam you okay,” Steve waved a hand in front of his face trying to get his attention. Sam blinked, rubbing his eyes and nodded at Steve's question.

“Pair me with Y/N for the next mission please,” Sam bluntly asked and shock was written all over the captain's face.

“But you told me last night-,” Steve began to say as he looked at him confused.

“Just please do it and don’t tell her she’ll just get all pissy about it,” Sam asked with a pleading look on his face. Sam narrowed his eyes but nodded anyway.

“Your secrets are safe with me,” Steve promised.

Over the next few days Sam has been trying to talk to Y/N but she always seemed to be in her room and it was clear she didn’t want anyone in there. He needed to talk to her about this, he’s been looking for his soulmate for years and he has to do something about it. Sam’s sure that she has no idea about it since she probably would be more awkward around her.

For her next mission Y/N wasn’t sure who her team mate for this one would be. She was hooping it would be Wanda since she was more comfortable around her than anyone else. Though she wanted to resolve this situation with Sam but was too stubborn to do it.

As she walked to the Quinjet she felt her heart drop as she thought she knew that Sam was going to be there. Even though it was tough to admit she liked Sam’s jokes and his whole persona. He wasn’t even that annoying to her but she has built up so much walls to protect her heart from anyone so she wouldn’t get hurt.

“I thought you didn’t want to work with me anymore,” Y/N stated as she entered the Quinjet and saw Sam sitting there with his leg jittering. He jumped not knowing that she entered the room and relaxed when he saw it was her.

Y/N didn’t blame Sam that he didn’t want to work with her.

“I need to talk to you before we go to this mission okay,” Sam firmly stated, making her eyes furrow as she had no idea what he wanted to talk to her about.

“Okay,” Y/N stated she tried to shake the shock off of her body. She sat next to him since he needed to talk about something. “What do you need to talk about,” She asked fiddling with her thumbs.

“About your soul mark,” Sam softly said resting one of his hands on top of hers making sparks flow through her whole body. It felt weird and she didn’t know. She didn't even know why he wanted to know about her soul mark.

“What about it,” Y/N asked curious as the pad of his thumb rubbed comforting circles on the top of her hand.

“I have the same one,” Sam whispers looking directly in her eyes and at first Y/N thinks this is one of his jokes so she let’s a little giggle out at it. But when he wasn’t laughing with her she looked at him with an un comprehensive look on her face.

“What,” Y/N says as she tries to remove her hand from his but he caught and gave it a squeeze. With a sigh he released her hand and lifted up his shirt to show his shoulder that the soul mark was placed. He bent over the seat he was in a bit to let her get a good look at it.

She was shocked as she stared at his back. Her soulmate was Sam Wilson and man she thought she despised and despised her. Her fingers trailed across the skin and kept staring at the mark. It was identical to hers. Goosebumps fluttered across Sam’s skin as she caressed his skin.

“How,” Y/N whispered as she removed her hand and he sat up straight pulling his shirt down.

“Well everyone’s got a soul mark when they’re born-,” Sam smirked as he started to respond to her question.

“Not like that,” Y/N smacked his arm.

“You’ve been working out haven’t you,” Sam grabbed his shoulder faking a wince. “Okay okay I’ll be more serious,” He put his hands up in defense. “I just can’t believe that my soulmate has been here all this time,” He says in disbelief.

“You don’t want me,” Y/N blurted out as she stood up and walked to the middle of the room as Sam stayed sitting down for the moment. His shoulders slumped as his face was contorted into disbelief.

“And how do you know what I want,” Sam fired back, crossing his arms.

“I just do and you won’t want somebody like me,” Y/N snapped, used her hand and pointed to herself and rested her hand on her heart which was racing.

“Why are you so closed off,” Sam fumed, standing up walking in front of her, his stance matching hers. “Why won’t you let anyone in,” He snapped, glaring at her. He hated the way he was talking to his soulmate but he needed some reasons.

“Because I’m a failure,” Y/N shouted as tears brimmed her eyes. “I couldn’t help those hostages. I don’t even know why I’m an Avenger, I suck so bad,” She ran her hands through her hand and tugged on the roots.

Sam stood there flabbergasted as Y/N turned around and cupped her mouth to keep the sobs in. She knew this was gonna happen, this has been building in her for a long time and it was about time that the volcano exploded.

“You’re not a failure,” Sam says still in disbelief that she would think this about herself. He walked so that he was standing in front of her and cupped her cheeks in his hands. He wiped the tears that fell from her eyes. But she had them closed not wanting to give into him. “You’re one of the most badass women that I know. And even though you can have a snippy attitude I know that you want to help people,” Sam softly says pressing his lips to her forehead making her shiver from the electricity.

“How can you think that I’ve been horrible to you,” Y/N says her voice hoarse from crying.

“I also know how dedicated to work you are and that I can disturb that sometimes,” Sam smiles, removing his hands from her cheeks.

“That doesn’t make it okay,” Y/N nervously chuckles looking up at him as she feels heat crawl all over her body.

“How bout this you make it up to me by buying me a coffee,” Sam bargains a smile plastered on his face.

“Are you asking me out,” Y/N asks, feeling a bit of giddy in her.

“Depends on the answer,” Sam shrugs. She gives him a smile before leaning up and pressing her lips to his and putting her hand on his neck. His hands go to her hips as they stand there and kiss.

The Quinjet flying off breaks the two apart with smiles on their faces. The tears that were once there have been dried away and her heart was feeling better.

“I’m guessing that was a yes.”

#sam wilson smut #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson angst #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson headcanon #sam wilson one shot #sam wilson

116 notes · View notes

mochiiwrites · 3 years

Text

🍁✨Autumn Troupe Headcanons!✨🍁

Hooray for more uncensored swearing! Sorry, this took so long! It’s hard to think of things for the Autumn Troupe since I don’t know them super well!

🍁🧡Banri Settsu🧡🍁

Whenever it's time for practice, Banri begins by smacking the back of Juza's head! (Not super hard, but enough for it to piss him off)

Diluc main, that is all. Before he got Diluc he was an Amber main, and somehow was good. Still uses her every once in a while!

Slightly intimidated by languages sometimes, I dunno how to explain it, so hopefully the dialogue does!

“Banri, come here for a second.”

“Hell no, I’m in the middle of a match right now.”

“Banri.”

“Sit your ass down and wait, Chikage! I’m busy!”

"Halika dito! Huwag kang humintay na papatayin kita at iwanan kitang dumugo sa lansangan! Inumin ng mga aso ang iyong dugo at kukunin ng mga uwak ang iyong laman. Gusto mo yan?!" ("Come here! Don't wait for me to kill you and leave you bleeding in the street! Dogs will drink your blood and crows will take your flesh. Do you want that ?!" ) I'm unsure of the translation, since the filipino was from Irumaaaaa_saaaaamaaaaa's comment on my Ao3! I just put it into google translate

“Damn! Fine, fine, I’m comin! Chill out!”

His older sister gave him a leopard plushie when he was a kid, which is why he’s fucking obsessed with animal prints!

Plays drums and almost broke the coffee table because he “jammed too hard” on it!

Constantly messing up Taichi’s hair, or he’s drumming to songs on his head.

*boom boom bap boom boom bap*

“Buddy, you're a boy, make a big noise, playing in the street, gonna be a big man someday! You got mud on your face, you big disgrace! Kicking your can all over the place, singin'-”

“We will, we will rock you!”

“Haha! Hell yeah!”

🍁💜Juza Hyodo💜🍁

Likes carrying Muku or Kumon on his shoulders! Sometimes they still parade around!

“Are you sure about this, Ju-chan?”

“Yeah, you’re real light, y’know.”

“What the hell are you doing, Hyodo? Practice is soon.”

Chews on things a lot when he’s nervous! He always has gum or a lollipop to avoid chewing on his shirt, his nails and other inedible things!

Uses shorter Mankai members as an armrest, but only the ones who are okay with it! He’s polite like that.

On nights where he just can’t sleep, he’ll go on walks or drive around on his motorcycle!

Terrible with eye contact and looking like he’s paying attention. Sakyo has to snap his fingers at him to make sure he’s listening!

Y’know the awkward sibling hug from Gravity Falls, he and Kumon have done that...a lot. It’s not actually awkward though, they just liked the show!

“Awkward sibling hug?”

“...Awkward sibling hug.”

*embrace*

“...pat, pat.”

....

“Hyodos, what the hell?”

🍁💖Taichi Nanao💖🍁

Cried twice when he got his piercings, the first time was because he was very, very afraid, the second time was because he was so happy that he looked good with them!

Has Heelys! One time, he tried to 'heely' into the rehearsal room, but he immediately fell over!

Plays the ukulele! He wanted to play guitar because he saw someone serenading their partner with it at school! He borrowed Masumi's guitar but bar chords suck and his hands are kinda small, so he settled for the uke!

"Aghhh! How do you play that! That hurts my fingies!"

"I have bigger hands and more experience."

"But you're only like an inch taller than me!"

"Height doesn’t really have anything to do with this."

Has a Tiktok! He doesn't post often, it's more for looking at memes or sick outfits. (He does the dances though! He's pretty good at them but they're all in his drafts since he's not super confident in them!)

Y’know how kids crawl up the stairs really fast. He does that. Constantly. Kazunari joins in, sometimes. It pisses Sakyo off a lot, but he gave up on trying to get them to stop.

"Taicchan, what are you doing?"

"Kazu-kun! I got the zoomies!"

"Nice! Can I join ya?"

"For sure!"

*Rapid thumping up the stairs*

"Aren't you gonna stop them, Sakyo?"

"...If I had that ability, they would've stopped a long time ago. Those idiots don't listen."

He LOVES Sk8 The Infinity! Langa's his favourite character! He's also probably a Reki kinnie!

🍁💙Omi Fushimi💙🍁

(It's blue like his regular shirt and Tumblr doesn't have any other colours ;-;)

Despite being tone-deaf, he hums a lot when he cooks! No one seems to mind it!

Enjoys scrapbooking! He kind of prefers scrapbooks to albums, since scrapbooks have a more homemade vibe, you know?

Gives the best hugs, and tends to hold hands with the younger members when they cross the street!

Regularly has this conversation!

“Banri, have you eaten?”

“I dunno Omi, have YOU eaten?”

“...I have. But that's not what I’m concerned about.”

“...I had a granola bar like, an hour ago.”

“...I’m making you something.”

When he first joined the company, he took notes on what everyone liked and didn't like to eat, plus if they had allergies! He still has it, he just doesn't need to use it anymore!

I feel like something like this has happened once!

“Ah, Omi! Can you help me grab something?”

“Oh, sure. What do you need, Sakuya?”

“Homare asked me to get some of that tea, but I can’t rea-”

*lifts Sakuya like Simba*

“Ah! Omi, haha! What are you doing?”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it! Do you want me to stop?”

“Oh, no, it’s fine! It’s kinda fun actually.”

🍁💛Sakyo Furuichi💛🍁

Absolutely blind without his glasses, like it’s really bad. He walked into a doorframe without his glasses. Thankfully, no one noticed (he thinks).

He has a bit of bubble-wrap in his a pocket all the time and sometimes he uses it as a threat! (Hopefully that made sense...)

“Settsu, move over.”

“I literally can’t! Your fat ass is taking too much space!”

*pop*

“Just scoot your lazy ass over.”

*pop*

“I can’t I already-”

*pop*

“...Alright, I get it! I’ll shut up! Jeez, how is that so threatening...”

“...Asshole.”

*pop*

“...Sorry.”

Definitely told Azami that Santa wasn’t real when he was like 6.

Sakoda got him a mug that said #1 Dad but he crossed it out and replaced ‘Dad’ with ‘Aniki’! Sakyo still drinks out of it, sometimes!

Azami also made him a friendship bracelet when he was a lot younger. Sakyo doesn’t wear it (because it doesn’t fit him anymore) but he still has it! He likes rubbing the beads between his fingers.

Good at trivia! Like, really good. He somewhat enjoys Trivia Murder Party. (I just watched a play through and skipped to a random question, I have no idea if it’s actually hard lol.)

“Which body of water connects the Mediterranean Sea to the Atlantic Ocean?”

“Wh- How are we supposed to know that?!”

*Sakyo answers ‘The Strait of Gibraltar’ and is the only one who answers correctly*

“Fuck, my thumb slipped.”

“That shouldn’t be allowed. Sakyo’s shitty and old, he shouldn’t be able to know and remember things.”

“Oi, brat. I’m not that old. You’re not the one who got the answer right.”

“You’re not the one who literally never learned this!”

🍁❤️Azami Izumida❤️🍁

Has smacked too many cans/cups out of Itaru and Tsuzuru’s hands!

“Wh-”

“Drink actual water. And jeez, go take a nap or something. Your skin is even worse than I thought it could get. Aren’t you supposed to be the responsible one in the Spring Troupe?”

“Ah... I guess, you are right. Thanks for looking out for me.”

“W-well! W-we can’t have you on stage looking like a raisin! S-so!”

Often criticizes Izumi’s eyeliner and ends up just doing it for her. N-not that he minds or anything!

Played Love Nikki at some point, I do not take that much criticism.

Because I think the troupe/play themes are canon, he definitely helped with Shake the Shape and wrote some of RESPAWN!

Always has extra hair ties on him, even though most of the others don’t really need them. Most of the time, the hair ties end up being used for...other purposes.

“Ready.”

“What?”

“Aim.”

“Azami, I swear to whatever god is listening, if you fire that elasti-”

“Fire.”

“...You shitty brat-”

“Oh shi-”

Part of the ‘wears nail polish’ squad! He hates stickers. (Most of the time they somehow fall off) His go-to is an alternating pattern of black and red.

#a3! incorrect quotes #a3! headcanons #Autumn toupe #Banri Settsu headcanons #Juza Hyodo headcanons #Taichi Nanao headcanons #Omi Fushimi headcanons #Sakyo Furuichi headcanons #Azami Izumida headcanons #Autumn Troupe headcanons #akigumi

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fruitymimi · 4 years

Text

Free Bird - Keigo Takami x Reader

free bird master list

the hero commission ruined him, leaving him unable to feel anything. that is until he meets them.

warning: yandere themes, emotional trauma/abuse, obsessive hawks

pairing: keigo takami x gender neutral reader

a/n: this fic will get darker as i go, this is only the first chapter (; this is all fiction, if it isnt your thing please scroll x. THIS IS ALSO SLOW BURN! hopefully i’ll have an update out tmr <3

word count: 2727

Keigo Takami was the last man you’d call mentally stable.

Keigo has always felt like he didn’t have a valid place on this earth. He’s always felt like he was alone, nobody understood the way he thought. Since he was a child, he hated the idea of becoming a hero. He wanted to live in peace, he wanted to feel like a free bird. He couldn’t remember much about his childhood, almost like he’d built a mental wall between his past and whatever he had left that he called a future.

His parents always asked him if he wanted to be “Just like Endeavor!” and whenever he’d tell them that he wanted to be his own person, they would shut him down by saying he just didn’t realize it yet, but he was “bound” to be the #1 hero. Instead of a childhood, Keigo was forced to train with people who were physically and mentally stronger than him, people who made his quirk seem as though it was just lightwork that anyone could do.

Putting a child with people who would make him feel inferior was one thing, but doing it on purpose to try and make your child stronger was just abusive. That’s all his parents wanted. They wanted him to be the strongest hero in the world. They would do anything to get their hands on a child with a hero salary.

“You’ll be just like your idol!”

As soon as Hawks turned 18, he’d lost his freedom to speak for himself, he’d lost his free will. He was no longer a free bird. He was manipulated and forced into the position he was in now. They promised he’d be the perfect hero, they promised he would have the top hero position.

Keigo was so desperate for an escape that he believed his “idol” would be his savior, poor thing knew that was near impossible, though. His parents basically sold their soul to Endeavor, after exchanging a few words & their child with Endeavor, his future was written for him.

Endeavor wasn’t at all innocent. Keigo was his fifth chance at the perfect child in his eyes. The only thing that separated the man from Keigo’s parents was the fact that Enji was not motivated by money. Endeavor wanted nothing more than a perfect name. He wanted his name to have an impact far after his death, and he wasn’t sure how far he’d get with Shoto.

By having Keigo, Endeavor could let people know that he trained, motivated, and pushed Keigo to be the amazing hero he was. Nobody would find out about Keigo’s past, no one needed to know. Endeavor would be a legend, Keigo’s parents would be rich beyond belief, and Keigo would be a hero, who wouldn’t want to work for a corrupt system that enslaves or brainwashes its people?

The hero commission didn’t want Keigo. They wanted a hero they could control.

“His quirk is perfect. He has the ability to fly, he can use his feathers in combat, he’s the perfect tool.”

From a young age, Keigo was forced to realize how terrible the hero commission was. Praised or villanized for a quirk you couldn’t control, and if you didn’t have a quirk, you were pretty much useless.

The only people who understood this concept was of course those who were affected by it. The ones who were published all over the news for being a villain, a threat, just because the hero commission saw their quirk as dangerous. They’d be locked behind bars for wanting to stop the injustices & prejudice against them, they’d rot in a cell, blaming themselves for something they couldn’t control. All while heroes were praised for doing the bare minimum, living in 3 story homes, eating off of silver spoons.

Knowing this at a young age was a lot for Keigo. All he wanted was to be a free bird, but… that wasn’t possible anymore. He felt empty. He felt like his life didn’t have a purpose, he was just a puppet for Endeavor, a bank for his parents.

He’d spend hours training with Endeavor, even if he complained that he wasn’t feeling well and didn’t feel like he could continue, Endeavor would make him continue training until he couldn’t fly straight. They event went so far as to putting Keigo in a dorm room inside of Endeavor’s building so they could have longer and “more effective” training. Keigo knew he wouldn’t get out of being a hero, and he was slowly accepting the fact that his right to autonomy was gone.

He couldn’t even escape from the dorms. Even though Endeavor left every night to go to his own home, the building was heavily guarded and Keigo would be a fool to try and run away.

And that’s how he carried himself until he was nineteen. No, he didn’t finally break Endeavor with his sob stories. No, he didn’t knock any sense into his parents to have them pull him out of hero work. He… met someone?

“This is Keigo. He’s… he’s interning with me. He’s been shadowing me since he was a young, aspiring hero.” Enji explained to the person who was following close behind him. They had bright eyes, they looked like they were excited and content with being a hero.

Keigo couldn’t help but stare at them… someone was walking with Endeavor and they were happy. That’s not something you even see from his own wife. It didn’t take long for Keigo to notice how gorgeous they were. The prettiest skin, their features were soft & made their face look absolutely stunning.

“Keigo. Don’t you have something to say to them?” Endeavor was staring daggers into Keigo’s face.

Keigo’s eyes were blown wide as he snapped back into reality. “My name is Keigo Takami. It’s really nice to meet you.” He said to them, reaching his hand out for them to shake.

They grinned, taking his hand into theirs. “It’s nice to meet you! I’m Y/N! I’m interning with All Might, he’s just gonna be busy for a few weeks in another country… So, he trusted Endeavor to train me until he’s back.” Immediately, they cursed themselves for saying something that Keigo probably had no interest in, something he didn’t ask about.

But that’s where they were wrong. Keigo wanted nothing more but to hear them speak. He was pretty sure that the only real interaction he’d gotten in the past month was with Endeavor, it felt amazing to finally be talking with someone else.

Keigo felt like he was floating as he stared at their smile. He wanted to listen to them speak all day, he didn’t care if what they said had no meaning.

“I trust you to teach her warm-ups while I’m in the next room getting a few things for the training,” Endeavor looked at Keigo, raising a row, “behave yourself.” He mumbled, leaving the two in the room by themselves.

Keigo couldn’t help but watch what they were doing. They seemed so bubbly and excited to be in the position they were in.

“So..” They finally broke the awkward silence, folding their hands in front of them, “He seems like he’s a hardass, isn’t he?” They laughed.

Keigo furrowed his brows, scratching the back of his neck. “Hm- What?” He stuttered out. Of course he was getting distracted by their smile again. The way their hands looked so soft and the way their eyes shined whenever they would look at Keigo.

“Endeavor, birdbrain. He’s a hardass? I can tell.” They teased, slowly walking to a chair that was in the room. “He seems like he’s really strict, almost like he’s annoying.”

For some reason, Keigo’s face felt all hot. It felt like it was burning hot in the room all of a sudden. He didn’t feel right. He felt like he wasn’t in the right dimension. He wasn’t himself. “Yeah… That’s Endeavor… He’s always like that, always has been since I can remember.”

“Why’d you pick him for your internship? There are so many cool heroes… Endeavor seems…” Their words trailed off as they looked down at Keigo’s wings, smiling when he saw them flutter. Of course the stupid things fluttered at the sound of their voice.

Keigo opened his mouth to speak, searching for the words-- a lie to tell them. “Well… I’ve always looked up to him. He keeps me in check and is putting me on the correct path to becoming a hero.” The simple, stupid lie felt like acid on his tongue. He couldn’t even stand pretending to praise the man. “What about you? Why All Might?”

They shrugged. “I dunno… I want to be like him someday… But… I want to be better. I don’t want people to feel like they’re villains just because they don’t have the ideal quirk. I want them to also know that they can make a difference in this world just like a hero can. And I want people without quirks to know that too,” They said, getting that same bright look in their face they had when they first walked in, “I’ve always thought the hero commission was fucked, but maybe if a few good heroes step in, it’ll better…?”

Keigo hummed, nodding his head. “I’ve always thought the same thing. The hero commission is so damaged.” Keigo agreed. He could listen to them speak for hours. He was in absolute awe from the way they made him feel.

After that day, Keigo drug himself to his bedroom in his dorm.. His body didn’t feel like it was his anymore. He had never felt this way and it was honestly overwhelming. He didn’t have anyone to speak to about it, so these feelings bottled up in his soul. He kept closing his eyes to go to sleep, but he couldn’t. He couldn’t stop thinking about them. Their smile, how excited they were to do hero work. His head felt all cloudy, his heart felt like it was heavy. Finally he could feel something, he hated it.

It felt like his head was pounding. Keigo coldn’t get them off his mind. They’d only met and spoken to each other once, why was he feeling like this? This wasn’t him falling in love, right?

“That’s childish… It can’t be..” he mumbled to himself, laying down flat against his pillow. He could hear faint footsteps but he’d just assumed it was Endeavor walking around the hallways to make sure he was sleeping before he left for his own home.

“Hey..” Y/N knocked on his cracked door, biting down on their bottom lip, “Birdbrain… You awake?” They whisper-yelled, peeking into his room.

Keigo squinted at the door, sitting up in his bed. “Why’re you awake? Endeavor’s gonna be upset..” he told them, pushing the blankets off of his legs to walk over to them.

They shrugged, opening the door a bit wider. “It’s fine. I wanted to show you something… it might be something you already know about, but I thought it would make you kinda happy.” They reached for his wrist, tugging it towards their dorm room.

They smiled, rushing him over to the window. “I noticed if you can fit through the window, you could sit on the roof… I thought it would be kinda cool for us to look at the stars or something and talk. Since I’m gonna be here for awhile, we might as well become friends, right?”

That stupid fucking smile.

Keigo nodded slowly, looking outside. “There are guards down there… what if they see us?” Keigo bit down on his lip. To Keigo, it wasn’t a matter of ‘what if they see us?’, it was a matter of ‘what if they see me?’. They wouldn’t get in trouble, but Keigo would be punished if they thought he was sneaking out.

“If we get in trouble, I’ll take the blame. Just do this with me, please?” They asked, unlocking the window. They slid it open, crawling out of the window. They turned to face Keigo, offering a hand to help him out.

Keigo stared at their hand for a minute. He was getting that dumb feeling again. His hands felt shaky, his cheeks felt like they were burning hot, his heart was pounding like it was doing flips in his chest. He took their hand, using it to get onto the rooftop.

“You’re so shaky… Have you never done anything risky like this?” They giggled, turning to look at all of the stars. “It’s really beautiful up here.” They mumbled.

Keigo looked at them, then to their glossy eyes. He swallowed, nodding his head. “Yeah, it’s really pretty…” he muttered, his eyes darting down to his lap. Was this love? He hasn’t felt that since he was a child, how could he have fallen for some trainee?

“So, Keigo. What is your quirk exactly? Can you only fly?” They asked him, turning to look at the man beside them.

Keigo shook his head. “No! I mean.. No, my quirk gives me fierce wings. My feathers act as if they’re alive and move at my command. They’re good for saving people. And I can use some of them like a sword, some of them are extremely sharp.” Keigo explained to them, watching them look at his hawks in amazement. “What’s your quirk..?”

They hummed. “That’s really cool! You should take me on a flight one day,” they grinned, “and… It’s kind of lame compared to yours. I can create a sandstorm on command, small, large, whatever.” They told him.

Keigo nodded. “That’s not lame. That sounds really interesting, actually.” Keigo felt his wings twitch. They were making him feel some type of way again.

Keigo got lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t even notice them leaning their head against him until he heard their soft snores. Keigo turned his head, something red catching his eye. He darted his eyes over to the window, peering out. He could see Endeavor standing at the door way with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

Keigo bit his lip, turning back to the stars. He looked down at them. He couldn’t help but notice their features all over again. They were absolutely breath-taking. And they smelled fresh and sweet, he felt like he could get high off of their rich scent. Their skin looked soft to the touch, it made him want to reach out and lay his hand on their cheek, and just stare into their eyes.

Keigo’s wings fluttered again at the sight. He bit down on his lip, letting out a deep breath. Keigo was basically at a war with himself in his head. Was it okay for him to develop a crush on someone this fast? Keigo didn’t remember what it was like to be in love, he’d lost that feeling towards his parents long ago. But looking down at them made him feel safe. As long as he was out here with them, nothing could hurt him anymore.

He could forget about everything that was hurting him. He could forget about what was trapping him inside this awful building when he was with them.

His parents couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Endeavor couldn’t hurt him anymore.

Keigo could feel tears brimming at his eyes, his bottom lip quivering. Only they could make him feel this way. No one else gave him this sense of… sense of euphoria and happiness. And the way they were speaking with him, they felt it too, right? They were in love too, right? Keigo wasn’t crazy. Keigo knew what this meant.

This meant they were in love too.

He just knew that he couldn’t let them go. He couldn’t let someone take them from him. He needed them. He wanted to have this feeling forever. He needed to feel wanted forever. He wasn’t interpreting this wrong, this was love. This is what true love was suposed to feel like. He wrapped his wing around them, using his feathers as if they were a blanket to keep them warm.

He looked down at his shaky hands, pressing one against his pounding chest. This was all because of them. This was meant to happen… this is fate. His mind was blank. The only thing he could only think one thing,

Mine.

They will be mine.

#bnha #hawks x reader #gender neutral imagine #mha #mha x reader #bnha x reader #keigo takami x reader #keigo takami #yagami yato #x reader #yandere #yandere hawks #yandere keigo #yandere keigo x reader #slow burn #yandere hawks x reader

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marshieee · 3 years

Text

Different

Asahi x gn! Reader

Warning: angst to fluff

Requested by: @redbabydoll “I have no clue how to use tumblr so I’m sorry if this is not the right place to do a request 🥲 but if you’re willing to do it could you please do like an angst to fluff with Aone or Asahi or even Yaku? I feel like they’re so underrated and I struggle to find content about them. Anywho have a great day!!!!! 🙃🙃”

A/N: AHHHH MY FIRST REQUEST 😭❤️, oh no worries darling I’ve been there! It’s understandable, you could request in my asks though so yep i do hope that i made it angsty for you. A special thanks for proofreading and beta reading this @reallifemoana labyu bitch😘🥰❤️

It was a surprise when you accepted Asahi’s feelings, he was ready to get rejected yet you held his hands and said yes, he changed his mind he was ready to marry you.

To be fair everyone was shocked when they got the news about you and Asahi dating, The volleyball club was happy for him and was enthusiastic yet other students didn’t like it.

You were popular at school, some would say you were on par with Kiyoko Shimizu. People like you and are always around you that’s why Asahi thought how could someone like YOU, basically a celebrity at school, notice HIM of all people?

Nevertheless you two were having a pretty steady relationship… but not until people started to get restless and irritated. This was when your once steady and stable relationship started becoming a rocky and bumpy road.

“So are you dating anyone?”

You looked at the random guy who just came to flirt with you, confused as to why he even bothered asking that. Everyone in the whole school KNEW that you’re dating someone so why is he still asking this?

“Yes i am”

“Ah… you mean that volleyball dude?”

“He has a name you know and yes I am still dating him”

“Aw damn! And here I thought you two would have already broken up”

“Excuse me? Why’d you say that?”

“I mean come on, look at him! You’re seriously gonna keep on dating him?”

“Compared to your sorry ass, yes, yes I am”

Of course this wouldn’t go unheard about with boyfriend as he was their main target. Getting a lot of whispers and murmurs, a lot of back handed compliments even though the team and you encourage him to not let any of that get to him, it still does.

It became his biggest insecurities, he started doubting himself. He’d constantly question himself if he was he even worthy to call himself your boyfriend? Maybe not.

Because of that he started to avoid you as much as possible, short text, short calls, whenever you two would go home together the walk remained silent and awkward even if you tried making conversation he would reply with short and curt answers.

This continued for two weeks until you finally had enough. Asking for the volleyball team to lend you a hand, since Asahi wasn’t doing well at practices either and it started pissing coach Ukai off.

“Make sure that Asahi is in tip top shape tomorrow y/n or else I’m gonna make hinata our new ace”

“Don’t worry Ukai-san leave it to me”

Asahi looked confused when he got kicked out of the gym, i mean sure he was off his game lately but that’s why he’s practicing right?

“Don’t come back here not until you talk to them”

Daichi said in a stern tone with his arms crossed, while Suga was ready to ‘negativity begone’ Asahi’s ass in the background.

But before Asahi could answer they immediately slammed the door in his face, leaving him dumbfounded.

“Talk to who?” he asked himself…

“Hey babe”

Asahi tensed up as he heard your voice, slowly turning around to see you standing there with a smile.

“Can you come with me for a sec?” you asked

He reluctantly followed you to the schools’ garden and avoided making eye contact with you as much as he could. Once you both arrived at the garden you turned to look at him with your arms crossed over your chest.

“Why are you avoiding me?” you asked him with a stony face.

He looked at you but then looked away right after , he doesn’t want to answer that, not to you at least. Pursing your lips together you took a deep breath.

“Asahi why are you avoiding me?”

“I’m not”

“Yes you are! You can’t even look at me”

You were getting frustrated, he wasn’t making any sense and all you wanted to know is why is he was being so distant.

“Y/N look I’m not avoiding you ok? Now I need to go back to practice”

He was about to walk past you when you grabbed his hand. He’s not getting away, not until he explains himself.

“Asahi please” you pleaded

“Y/N not now”

“It’s because of me isn’t it?”

He turned to look at you just to meet those sad eyes, no it wasn’t because of you, it was because of… him.

“No”

“Then why?”

He sighed as he stood in front of you debating whether he should tell you or not.

“It’s… it’s because of me, Ok?”

“What? What do you mean” Confusion evident on your face.

“Y/N look I- I’ve been thinking....is it really ok for me to be your boyfriend?”

That question shocked you but it also pissed you off.

“What the hell Asahi?! What kind of question is that??? Of course it’s Ok!”

“No”

“What do you mean no?”

“No it’s not ok”

You were confused as to why he was saying those things, why does he think it’s not? Is he dumb?

“Y/N you know people says that too right?”

“Asahi how many times—“

“Look y/n i know that I’m not the best person for you-”

“Babe—“

“And i know! That someday you’ll leave me because you’ll find someone better than me ok?!”

You just stood there, his words slowly sinking in. What the hell is he saying?! Find someone better?! Leave him?!

“What the hell are you saying? I won’t leave you, ok? I won’t leave you because I LOVE you”

“You’ll break up with me eventually”

“No I won’t, that’s not true”

“Yes it is y/n”

You’re starting to get dejected with every passing seconds, he looked away not wanting to meet your eyes.

“I’m no good for you”

“How can you say that as if it’s a fact?!”

“BECAUSE IT IS A FACT!”

The sudden raise of his voice surprised you, his eyes still reflects frustration and it looked like he doesn’t have any plans on cooling down.

“HOW CAN YOU! YOU Y/N! HOW CAN YOU EVEN LIKE ME?! WHY?!”

“BECAUSE YOU’RE KIND!”

Asahi snapped out of his thoughts as he watched those frustrated tears drip down your face non-stop and now it was your turn to glare at him.

“BECAUSE YOU’RE KIND, AND YOU’RE SWEET, YOU’RE A GENTLEMAN”

You were trying to keep your voice sturdy, wishing that your words would at least get through his head.

“AND I’VE SEEN YOU PLAY AND I CAN TELL HOW PASSIONATE YOU ARE AND I LIKE THAT! NO I LOVE THAT! I LOVE HOW HARDWORKING YOU ARE, OK?!”

Standing there speechless, Asahi let your words sink into his mind and heart.

“I LIKE YOU FOR YOU ASAHI!! HOW CAN YOU NOT SEE THAT?!”

Asahi was about to say something but he decided to let you express all your pent up feelings, he wanted you to tell him how you really feel, he wants to hear you.

“SO WHY?..WHY ARE YOU LETTING THEIR WORDS GET TO YOU INSTEAD OF MINE?! WHY WOULD YOU DOUBT YOURSELF?! WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT YOU’RE NOT ENOUGH FOR ME WHEN IN FACT YOU’RE MORE THAN ENOUGH! YOU’RE MORE THAN I COULD EVER ASK FOR”

You were starting to hiccup furiously as tears continuously streamed down your face which made Asahi panic, slipping his hand out of yours he ran to his bag he got his water bottle out to give to you. As you finally calmed down Asahi just stood there, he wanted to hug you but he didn’t deserve that right now. So instead he let his chin rest on the top of your head.

“Why can’t you just believe me when I say I love you?”

“I do”

“Then why did you have to say stuff like that?” You asked sniffling.

Asahi sighed, his reasons were very invalid, he knew that, and he new they were just insecurities caused by what others would say about your relationship.

“Because...because you’re different than me, I think that you’re on a different level than I am..that’s why I said those things”

He kissed the top of your head then let his cheek rest atop your head.

“I’m sorry” He said with a frown on his face.

“You’re not forgiven”

Asahi quickly pulled away, that’s when he really started to panic, you looked so serious he started stuttering on his words.

“E-eh? Huh? W-why? I’m so sorry that I said those things- um- um I’ll make sure to not say those again! I PROMISE! S-so uh- can you please please PLEASE forgive me? I really am sorry” He asked pleadingly.

“No Asahi”

“N-no?”

“If you’re gonna make promise, do it properly”

“How?”

You held his large hands in yours, gently squeezing them, in which he squeezed back, slowly intertwining your hands with his.

“Promise me that you’ll never doubt yourself”

You looked into his eyes silently telling him that you were dead serious.

“Promise me that you won’t let their words get to you, because all the things they say about you...about us is nothing but bullshit”

“Y-Y/N! Language”

“Oh hush, just promise me that ok? Because you’re already the best person for me”

“Really?”

“YEAH! NOT ONLY YOU’RE THE ACE OF THE COURT BUT YOU’RE ALSO THE ACE OF MY HEART!!”!”

Asahi blushed furiously and laughed, this was you’re Asahi, the Asahi that you love.

“Y/N that was so cheesy”

“Hehehe really?”

He smiled at you and gave you a soft gentle kiss on the cheek.

“Yeah”

“So do you promise?”

He slowly nodded in agreement.

“Yeah”

You both giggled.

“ARE YOU TWO OK NOW?”

You both turned around and saw the whole team approaching the two of you. Hinata noticed your face and immediately gasped.

“ASAHI-SAN MADE Y/N CRY!”

They all turned to glare at Asahi and for the third time he started to panic, holding his hands up he started to think of excuse.

“N-No! Well you see...the thing is! Um..haha”

“A-SA-HI”

As soon as they all reached you two, Suga instantly hit Asahi on the head.

“ACCCK”

“HOW DARE YOU!”

“NO WAIT LET ME EXPLAIN!”

You noticed coach Ukai approaching you all and you gave him a smirk.

“I told you I’d return him in tip top shape”

“Heh, good to have our ace back”

You smiled as you watch the team scold Asahi for making you cry.

“Yeah”

“By the way that was so cheesy”

You blushed and looked at him with a surprised face.

“YOU WERE LISTENING?!”

“I accidentally heard it calm down”

“WHAT THE HELL UKAI-SAN?!”

“HEY KID LANGUAGE!”

#haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu!!#haikyuu #fluff #angst #asahi #asahi x reader #asahi azumane #asahi x y/n #hq asahi #asahi fluff #asahi angst

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buck-buck-boose · 3 years

Text

I'll Love You 'Til I Die

Masterlist | Playlist

Summary: A Brooklyn schoolgirl fell in love with James Buchanan Barnes at the tender age of nine. With this love she made a vow, promising to love him until her very last breath.

Pairing: Bucky x OFC

Warnings: Language, mild violence

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: Big things are happening y'all

Chapter Twenty-One: The Super Soldier

March 19, 1943

Dawn crept up on Camp Lehigh in a thick haze of fog, the chirp of crickets its only whispered greeting. A late-winter frost bloomed across what little grass remained, the majority having been trampled underfoot by platoon after platoon of soldiers. Winter was quickly fading, giving way to a promising spring, but the bitter chill still latched onto those dewy mornings to remind Camp Lehigh’s inhabitants of the cold season they’d just nearly escaped.

Although sessions of training were not due to begin for hours, warm bodies were stirred from slumber in their barracks, meeting the cold, stale air of their poorly-insulated lodgings. The nurse’s barracks was lit by a lamp's dim glow, which splayed a flush of golden light across the room. Five women quietly and nimbly dressed, none of them wishing to break the silence that balanced among them; the early morning was sacred to them, as it seemed to be the only time apart from nighttime in which one could be alone with one’s thoughts.

Lottie deftly pinned her mousy curls beneath her white cap, caring little for their arrangement or appearance. Once upon a time, she’d tamed her curls with gentle finger waves and carefully pinned back strands, desperate to look the part of a fair woman like Ginger Rogers. It was a quieter, more joyful time in which she had the time and desire to put ample effort into her appearance. How simpler life in Brooklyn seemed, in retrospect. She only had to care for Steve or Bucky’s wounds, usually from some street brawl instigated by Steve and ended by Bucky; now she had soldiers to care for. Soldiers who would one day be covered in great, gaping wounds, some so deeply ingrained within their souls that neither the highest of morphine dosages nor the strongest suture could soothe them.

Lottie made swift work of fastening her blue cape around her neck, situating it so that the inner red lining wasn’t peeking out. In her peripherals, Mary smoothed a hand down her white skirt in a weak attempt at combatting its wrinkles while Betty gave her face a once-over in a battered compact that she always seemed to have on her person. Lottie was downright envious of her ever-red lip and sultry gaze, they seemed to turn the heads of all the young privates on base, which earned them more than a few reprimands. It was only a few weeks ago that Betty had explained her reasoning for putting such effort into her physical charm, even in the middle of the war.

“Nurses are supposed to provide comfort, care, right?” She sat across from Lottie at their table in the mess hall, smoke curling from a freshly lit cigarette resting between her fingers. She puffed on the cigarette for a moment and slowly exhaled the smoke, “Well these boys have been stuck in a war for over a year now and they probably haven’t seen a pretty face in a while. They’re probably missing their sweethearts, fiancées, you name it. Either way, they’ve gotta be awful lonely out there, so what’s the harm in being that girl with the pretty face that can make them a little less lonesome?”

Before anyone could raise a question, she continued, “I’m not talking affairs or anything illicit, sometimes they just need a pretty face and a nice voice to remind ‘em of home, to ease that loneliness.”

Betty’s little sermon drew Lottie’s thoughts to Bucky. He was a fiercely loyal man who would stop at nothing to protect or care for his closest companions. For his own sake, Lottie hoped that he’d found a sort of comradery with his fellow soldiers, a bond to strengthen him while they were separated by an ocean. He’d always had a habit of flashing her his trademark grin and ruffling her hair, all while declaring something silly like “You ‘n Steve are all I need, Little Lottie. It’s always gonna be the three of us, ‘til the end of the line.” Lottie could only hope that Bucky had found a bond like theirs with his fellow soldiers as a source of comfort and a respite from loneliness.

“Lottie dear, Dr. Erskine’s waiting for us.”

It seemed that the other nurses had filtered out of the barracks as Lottie was lost in thought. Only Gladys remained, waiting for her expectantly at the doorway. Her strawberry blonde hair was pulled back in a tight bun, with her white cap nestled daintily atop her head, held in place with a handful of pins.

“Apologies, Gladys, I’m coming.” Gladys gave her a small smile as she caught up, nerves keeping her from forming her true toothy grin. All the nurses were nervous, to be truthful, as it was a significant day. Their serum was finally being put to use; they had found their first Super Soldier in Steve Rogers.

When Lottie had received the news of his selection to receive the serum, she’d nearly fainted with shock. Steve was a man with a heart of gold, she’d always known that, but it only served to heighten her self-doubt with regards to the serum’s efficacy. If the serum went awry as it did with Schmidt, Lottie wasn’t sure how she would be able to live with herself.

Dr. Erskine and Colonel Phillips’ debriefing as to why Steve had been chosen to become America’s first Super Soldier was a source of comfort, though. The two men had cornered the five nurses outside their barracks right as they were heading inside to turn in for the night.

The scientist had been the first to speak, “Ladies, we wanted to catch you as soon as possible. Colonel Phillips and I have decided upon our candidate for the serum. Private Steve Rogers will report to our facility in Brooklyn promptly at ten hundred hours tomorrow. We will need to depart camp at six hundred hours so we have abundant time to become accustomed to the equipment that will be in use. Mr. Stark will be joining us there.”

Lottie was sure there’d been spots in her vision, the announcement had nearly knocked all the wind out of her.

“I expect you ladies to uphold the same sense of secrecy and vigilance that you’ve had up until this point,” Colonel Phillips interjected, “This is only the beginning of our mission. We must continue to protect Project Rebirth, no matter how hopeless it may seem.” His voice was laced with bitterness, obviously doubtful of Steve’s abilities.

Nancy furrowed her brow, “Forgive me if I’m wrong, but isn’t Private Rogers the ninety-pound asthmatic? Why him and not someone more… reliable, like Private Hodge?”

Lottie bristled slightly, as she did not take kindly to critical remarks regarding her friends.

“Need I remind you that the serum is not focused only on the physical?” Dr. Erskine fixed Nancy with a level gaze, “He is not the most well-built soldier, I admit that. But as you have seen yourself, the serum is capable of incredible cellular change that will only strengthen him. It will also amplify the qualities that he already has inside of himself. He has proven himself to be a good soldier and a worthy recipient of the serum.” Lottie glanced at Colonel Phillips, whose face was twisted into an awkward grimace, though he did not comment.

“During training today, he exhibited qualities of strength and humility that I have yet to see in any other soldiers thus far. Would Private Hodge throw himself over a grenade to protect his fellow soldiers? He showed me today that he would not, but Private Rogers would.”

Colonel Phillips muttered something along the lines of, “Still skinny,” though the bitterness seemed to fade. All of the nurses came to accept the news, trading in their expressions of shock and concern for ones of uncertainty and anxiety. It seemed that reality had hit for all five of the nurses at once; their work had finally come to fruition, making the road ahead even more daunting than before.

There was little conversation in the nurse’s compartment on the train to Brooklyn. There were moments of brief chatter among the women, but they were all too lost in their thoughts to carry on a proper conversation. Lottie shifted in her seat every few minutes, the poorly-cushioned seat providing little comfort during the duration of the train ride. Beside her, Gladys flicked through a stack of paper, which she’d pulled out of a manila folder that had been stamped with the word “Confidential” in large red letters. Ever the levelheaded academic of the group, she’d decided to look over their notes on the serum and its activation procedure one last time.

Across from her, Mary and Nancy were busying themselves with embroidery, an activity that a few of the nurses had picked up to improve their abilities with stitching. Lottie pictured a frayed handkerchief in her mind’s eye, a tattered old thing covered in clumsy pink flowers with a “JBB” monogram stitched carefully onto its corner. She wondered if Bucky had taken it with him overseas. He’d always kept it on his person back in Brooklyn, “Never know when a dame’s gonna go all misty eyed on me,” he’d say, humor in his eyes. There wouldn’t be many women for him to comfort overseas, but maybe he’d need it for his tears someday.

Betty sat to the right of Gladys, scanning the pages of a battered copy of Gone With the Wind. She’d never struck Lottie as a bookworm, but more often than not, she was the last of the women to fall asleep at night, usually engrossed in a novel for an hour or two past lights-out.

Two hours passed uneventfully; its monotony was only interrupted by the transferring from one train to another. Lottie’s heart seemed to pound in her ears as they approached Brooklyn, the tall buildings in her window becoming more and more familiar to her. Her heart swelled at the sight of it; she hadn’t realized how much she’d missed the city until she returned after all that time. Of course, she’d been gone from the city for longer while she was in nursing school, but it tugged at her heartstrings even more than before because a damn war was what kept her from her beloved borough.

It wasn’t long before the train had arrived, initiating a flurry of movement out of the train car and toward a car that sat at the curb, waiting for them. All five nurses clambered inside, with Dr. Erskine following behind in his car. The car ride was a short one, though Lottie took the time to observe her surroundings; she wanted so desperately to drink in the familiar alleys and side streets before she had to return to Camp Lehigh, to war.

Their car stopped abruptly in front of a cozy antique shop; one she’d never paid much attention to. Dr. Erskine’s car had arrived just a few moments before theirs, so they followed him inside. Once inside, they were faced with an aged woman, who greeted them with a casual question, though her eyes betrayed a deeper glimmer of suspicion, “Wonderful weather this morning, isn't it?”

Dr. Erskine responded promptly, “Yes, but I always carry an umbrella.”

They were quickly led through a false bookcase, which hid a vast laboratory full of all that was needed to complete the transformation that would occur in a few hours. There were dozens of monitors and gauges, all for measuring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Rays that were intended to activate the serum within his cells. In the center of it all, there was a bed on which Steve would lie, and when injected with the serum, the bed would be surrounded by a chamber while the Vita-Rays were projected into him.

Lottie and her peers stood at the top of the stairs, taking it all in, while Dr. Erskine descended the steps toward a control panel. He glanced back at them briefly, “Shall we all get accustomed to this now, ladies?”

Over the past few hours, Lottie had tired herself by calibrating various instruments, readying the equipment, and arranging several vials of serum within the transformation chamber. Throughout that time, doctors, higher-ranking soldiers, and members of the SSR slowly filtered into the room, some even gathering in the observation booth that looked down on them from above. She knew that Steve was due to arrive with Agent Carter at any moment. Frankly, she was terrified— mortified, even.

Howard Stark flitted about the laboratory, checking up on the various devices that would be used throughout the process. The Vita-Ray chamber was his brainchild, so a majority of his morning was spent double and triple-checking its minute parts and its stability.

At precisely 10 o’clock in the morning, Agent Carter and Steve stepped into the laboratory, two metal doors held open by guards for their entrance. Silence quickly descended upon the scientists and personnel who had been moving about the room in a sort of organized chaos. Lottie knew that most of them were looking at Steve in confusion, and in some cases dismay, but she made sure to send her best friend a reassuring smile. Even if the bullheaded scientists in the room were doubtful of his abilities, Lottie was with him. She believed in him. Her only doubts were in her abilities.

The staff quickly returned to their business as Agent Carter and Steve descended the steps and approached the center of the laboratory to meet with Dr. Erskine. They shared a brief greeting before Steve was ordered to remove his hat, tie, and shirt; Mary waited beside him with a kind smile, accepting his shed clothing. Agent Carter stood a few feet behind Steve, respectfully averting her gaze as he partially disrobed. Lottie took a special interest in their interactions, examining the way in which she treated Steve. She didn’t ignore or belittle him as some women did, she treated him with more dignity and respect. For that, Lottie was grateful.

Lottie busied herself with sterilizing several glass syringes as she impatiently awaited the initiation of the transformation. She could just barely make out a conversation that Dr. Erskine and Steve had shared about schnapps, but before she could quite figure out what was said, the scientist turned to the inventor beside him, “Mr. Stark, how are your levels?”

“Levels at one hundred percent. We may dim half the lights in Brooklyn, but we are ready as we’ll ever be.” Mr. Stark stood in front of the chamber where Steve now lay, projecting an air of confidence despite an uncomfortable look in his eye.

Agent Carter was dismissed to the booth to join Colonel Phillips, who was seated with several other seemingly important men that Lottie didn’t care to know. Dr. Erskine addressed the crowd in the booth using a microphone, explaining the purpose of Project Rebirth. Meanwhile, Lottie and her fellow nurses prepared the Vita-Ray chamber; she’d just situated the paddles on his chest when his gaze met hers. They’d been in a similar position so many times before. There were countless times over the past decade when she and Bucky had shown up at his apartment, soup and medicine in hand, to make him feel better during his latest bout of sickness. Bucky would always sit on one side of the bed, leaning on the mattress as he tried to distract Steve with idle conversation. She always kept vigil on the opposite side of the bed from Bucky, pulling Steve’s sheets up to his chin no matter how much he complained of the heat. She would never have to do that again, Lottie realized, as the serum would (hopefully) strengthen his immune system to the point that it would nearly be impossible to get sick. He wouldn’t need her or Bucky to look after him anymore. It pained her only slightly; she was overjoyed that he would be strengthened and healed by the serum, but it felt like the end of an era for her. She wasn’t truly needed anymore.

When the scientist’s speech to the booth had concluded, Lottie disinfected Steve’s shoulder and injected a syringe of penicillin into it; beforehand, she gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze, warning him for the pain of the jab. She felt him sigh in relief, “That wasn’t so bad.”

Lottie bit back a giggle while Dr. Erskine looked down at Steve with a furrowed brow, “That was penicillin.” The scientist gave her a look and without missing a beat, began the countdown.

Five

The doctors and scientists that were scattered around the laboratory rushed to their control panels, monitoring Steve’s vitals and the Vita-Ray levels that would soon be harnessed for the serum’s activation.

Four

Those that were observing from the booth looked at the scene below with bated breath; they either anticipated either a predictable failure or an unlikely success.

Three

The five nurses gathered around the Vita-Ray chamber, monitoring the serum infusion. Two mechanical arms latched onto Steve’s biceps and embedded several syringes deep into his muscle.

Two

Dr. Erskine placed a hand on Steve’s shoulder. Lottie met Steve’s gaze once more, she was that little girl at his bedside, sitting her vigil for one last time.

One

A switch was flipped and several syringes of the serum were injected into Steve’s system. Lottie could already see the strain it was putting on his body, his face contorted and he grunted in pain as he felt the serum begin its work in his body.

When given his signal, Mr. Stark flipped a lever to encase Steve in the Vita-Ray chamber, which maneuvered Steve into a vertical position before he was completely locked into the machine. Dr. Erskine knocked on the metal, “Steven? Can you hear me?”

A muffled response came from within the metal, “It’s probably too late to go to the bathroom, right?” Lottie snorted, only Steve would make a terrible joke at a time like that.

The scientist faced Mr. Stark, “We will proceed.” Below him, Mr. Stark slowly turned a dial and donned a pair of goggles. Lottie and her peers followed suit, as the luminosity of the Vita-Rays would cause vision damage if their eyes were left uncovered.

Lottie worried her lip as Mr. Stark slowly increased the radiation levels by turning a wheel that was mounted on the control panel. Next to him, a doctor carefully monitored Steve’s vitals; he reported that they were all normal, which calmed Lottie a tad.

At around the seventy percent mark, cries began to ring out from within the Vita-Ray chamber. It was as if screams were being torn from Steve’s throat, they were so hoarse and raw. Dr. Erskine rushed to the chamber while Peggy quickly descended from the booth, urging the personnel to cease the radiation. Lottie stood in shock, stuck in an internal impasse. She worried deeply for Steve’s safety, she always had and always would. Simultaneously, she needed to trust in the years’ worth of work she’d put into Project Rebirth. She and her fellow nurses had worked day after day, slaving over the Super Soldier Serum and Vita-Ray theories to develop the perfect transformation method. If she couldn’t trust her abilities and research, what could she trust?

But when Steve’s cries seemed to echo throughout the laboratory, she knew that his safety superseded whatever pride she had in her research. Lottie had just opened her mouth to call for an end to it when Steve insisted from within the Vita-Ray chamber, “Don’t! I can do this!”

A burst of warmth bloomed in Lottie’s chest; Steve trusted their work and he was fighting to see it through. Mr. Stark continued to raise the radiation levels until they had reached one hundred percent. The staff and observers from the booth could only look on in shock and wonder as the light from within the chamber continued to glow brighter and it began to give off a steady humming noise.

Without warning, sparks began to spray out from the control panels as a result of the copious amounts of electricity being funneled into the transformation. Lottie cried out, ducking down with Mary to avoid the sparks that showered down on them from overhead. Across from them, Nancy, Gladys, and Betty assumed similar positions, clutching their white caps as they attempted to shield themselves from the onslaught.

As quickly as it started, the sparks ceased, as did the humming of the Vita-Ray chamber. The laboratory was far dimmer than it was earlier, with the light from the radiation gone, and nearly half the bulbs in the laboratory having been blown out.

All eyes were on the Vita-Ray chamber as they all awaited the final result of Project Rebirth. The chamber hissed open and released a gust of air, revealing an exhausted-looking Steve.

Lottie could barely believe it, not only was he exhausted-looking, but it seemed as if he’d gained nearly 8 inches of height and a few dozen pounds of muscle. Gone was that scrawny blond boy who’d gotten lost in crowds far too easily, here was a man— a Super Soldier —who was perfectly enhanced on a cellular level.

The SSR agents and politicians who were previously gathered in the booth rushed to meet with Steve, barely able to contain their excitement. They clambered over each other, all of them desperate to be the first one to speak with America’s first Super Soldier.

In all the chaos, Betty had sidled up to her, her jaw nearly touching the floor, “Hot damn, Lottie Green. Hot damn.” She ogled at Steve as she took in his new physique. Lottie rolled her eyes, “Just because he’s got more muscle doesn’t mean he’ll be able to talk to you any better. Or that he won’t step on your toes if you get him to dance.”

Steve stood in the middle of a crowd of men, though Agent Carter stood in front of him, attempting to look at anything but his chest.

“I think you might want this, Stevie,” Lottie moved in to stand beside Agent Carter and offered him a shirt, which he accepted gratefully. He smiled down at her gratefully, murmuring a quiet, “Thank you, Lottie.”

How odd it was to be looking up at him. It was certainly something that Lottie wasn’t used to, she’d gotten quite used to looking down at him, in fact. By age sixteen, she’d gained about two inches on him, and though he was loath to admit it, she knew it pained him to be the shortest of the three of them. Luckily for him, his new height delegated her as the most diminutive of the Brooklyn trio by far.

Amid the jubilation following Project Rebirth’s success, grave mistakes were made. Gladys had left her manila folder of notes— all the notes that the nurses had ever taken during their research —on one of the control panels closest to the stairway, just close enough to the exit to be snatched up by a discreet hand. An extra vial of Super Soldier serum sat in its case, at the ready for its eventual use; it stood unguarded and unwatched.

The once-unassuming Fred Clemson hung back from the crowd, a lighter in hand. Dr. Erskine was the first to notice his position apart from everyone else; the scientist opened his mouth as if to say something, but before he could form a sentence, Clemson had flicked open the lighter and triggered an explosion from the observation booth.

Screams rang out from the middle of the laboratory as glass rained down on them. Sparks even worse than before began assaulting them and left stinging burns in their wake. Lottie grunted as she felt minuscule shards of glass tear at and become embedded in her skin; it would surely be a pain to treat such small cuts and remove the pieces of glass later on. It was shocking, really, how quickly the mood of the room had shifted. Just moments before, she’d been looking at Steve in awe, fully processing all that the serum had accomplished. Her sentiments of excitement and pride quickly evaporated, replaced by a growing sense of panic and dread.

The force of the explosion had thrown Lottie and some of the other nurses to the ground, so she scrambled to her feet in an attempt to take action against the man. It was all in vain, for as soon as she regained her footing, all she saw was the bespectacled man diving through the crowd to grab the last vial of Super Soldier serum and the thick manila envelope that Gladys had brought with her. Lottie’s stomach dropped in terror; she opened her mouth to cry out for backup, but Dr. Erskine was one step ahead of her. He commanded the man to stop, but the only response he received was several gunshots in the chest.

Deep red stains formed across the front of his shirt and seeped into his lab coat, his vibrant blood was a sickening contrast to the crisp white color of his lab coat. The scientist fell to the ground, his legs sprawled out before him and his arms at his side. Lottie knew that there was no hope for him— there were no exit wounds and she was more than certain that at least one of his lungs had been punctured. His breathing was labored, his chest heaving with every inhale and exhale. Lottie didn’t need to perform an examination to know that the wounds would be fatal. There was no time for an examination anyway, gunshots continued to ring out across the laboratory, and Agent Carter was in hot pursuit of the offender.

Mary looked at Lottie for some sort of reassurance of direction, her mouth agape, “Lottie, he's— he’s gonna die if we don’t do somethin’. C’mon, we’ve gotta help him.” Her voice came out in a whimper and her hands shook as she searched the floor for any fallen bandages. She took Mary’s trembling hands into her clammy ones, “Mary, look at his breathing. You know there’s nothing we can do for him now.”

She knew it was a heartbreaking thing to say, but Mary was a brilliant nurse; she already knew all the signs of a punctured lung. Lottie knew that she was having a hard time processing the information due to the shock that was no doubt obscuring her senses and rational thought. What Mary needed was a calm voice to guide her back from the brink of hysteria, a friend to bring her back to reality.

The nurses learned a jarring lesson about reality’s harsh nature that day; they learned of its cycle of gains and losses, successes and failures. The five nurses of Project Rebirth had achieved all that they’d been dreaming of for more than a year, they’d proven themselves to be reliable and even stellar researchers in their field. It had all been ripped away from them in a matter of moments, with the loss of their notes and serum, as well as the brutal death of Dr. Erskine. All they could do was clutch each other helplessly as they watched Steve follow the man in hot pursuit— the man who had stolen everything from them. Lottie, Mary, Betty, Nancy, and Gladys had certainly entered a new era in their careers as nurses, an era of uncertainty. With nothing left from Project Rebirth besides the Super Soldier himself, their futures were left in limbo until the Strategic Scientific Reserve could figure out what to do with them next.

39 notes · View notes

friggsdc · 3 years

Text

Title: little delinquent pt iii

part ii | part iii | part iv

Warnings: Female!reader (bat!sis), mostly family fluff, AU, hurt/comfort, Jason’s language

Word Count: 4700~

Synop: It had Bruce and Dick sharing a look for a moment before the latter spoke up, “It’s not like I’m against continuing to expand the family, but…” he eyed the child you held nervously, “please don’t start bringing home every child you find…” he tilted his head, “he’s bad enough.” Bruce settled a light glare at his first son (that definitely wasn’t what Bruce was thinking), though Dick was stilled by the way your eyes narrowed at him instead.

“His name is Terrence,” that was all you said, brushing past as they were suddenly on guard at the inherited Wayne-scowl on your face.

A/N: tbh I cut the last chapter in two, this is the second half ee;;;; but I rewrote it to be it’s own chapter tho haha. Hum… this doesn’t pick up exactly where the last chapter ended, but it’s still all here. c’: Also, if you wear glasses, just know grumpy ol’ Bruce would probably force contacts on you in public (he’d see them as more ‘professional,’ and glasses as a danger/hazard in the field). Glasses are for home only sighs.

Ngl I see lexcorp similar to westworld’s delos, lotsa fancy designs ee;;;; Cadmus like nasa test rooms, clinical as heck with little to no windows, and wayne ent with Alien franchise’s archaic but advanced spaceship tech, or dracula’s castle with cubicles lmao

“Hey, Jaybird…”

Normally he knew what to expect, normally he’d open the door braced for a tackle, so when the rush of wind never came, he was at a bit of a loss. There you were, dressed like Bruce for some irritating reason. A size-too-big of a jacket, zipped up over a uselessly thin black turtleneck, a pair of black gloves, pants covering everything, and a pair of black lace-less… boots… with red… soles…?, and a suspiciously familiar-looking kid in your arms…

There was a slight guilty look on your face as you gauged his reaction, he could tell, you were nervous.

Wait.

He eyed the kid something scary, his voice grounding out, “so, who do I have to murder?”

“You weren’t gone that long, you know.” Snorting, you pushed past him into the small safe house, frowning at the bareness of it all before situating Terrence on the floor mattress. “How you sleep on this thing is beyond me…” he just shrugged, “too used to it? Answer the question,” he pointed at the kid while closing the door, “who?”

Agitated.

“Terrence,” said child was looking around, but there was only so much that would grab his attention, as empty as the room was.

“His name is Terrence, and he’s no one else’s, he’s… mine.”

“You just said it hasn’t been that damned long—” his frustration was building; he wasn’t liking where this was going, not that you were aware which direction his head was headed at the moment, you’d just gotten here.

You shook your head, “don’t tell me you…” his anger settled into a dark scowl, but you refused to look at him, “you can’t seriously bring more kids into that fucking prison.” He was so conflicted, it was you, but you were still a Wayne. It scared him to think of more children stuck in that lonely mansion, becoming bitter like he had.

You remembered what Dick had said days earlier when he first saw the child,

“Jason—” you began, a slight warning to your tone.

He didn’t care,

“Don’t be like Bruce.”

His voice was so cold.

Terrence had crawled his way over to the legs of the table in the makeshift kitchen, eyes on a prize as he began trying to figure out how a chair worked.

“You know, that actually hurt.”

You didn’t hate your father like Jason projected, but you knew the way he spoke about him, the way he expressed his feelings, that he ‘hated’ him. It was a half-truth, you knew. Jason preferred not hurting you, next to Alfred, you were more tolerable than the other family members.

Somedays Tim and Dick made that list. Somedays.

But that didn’t mean he was actively trying to be kind, he wanted it to stab.

Petty. Resentful. Haunted.

He went to say more, but stopped, fists shaking slightly from anger.

You were staring him down, that same look of disappointment Bruce would give him when he made an obviously stupid decision, as if he were still a Robin in training. Like your father, you could read him like an open book when you tried, it made him feel vulnerable, guilty, small.

Fucking frustrated.

“Don’t look at me like that,” he was at a loss for words, “…shit.” He turned away from you, coming back to the moment as he tried to reign in his temper, “it’s just…”

“It’s fine.”

“No, it’s not.”

Instead of continuing to argue the point, too used to his outbursts (Alfred and your family primed you too well for dealing with the unstable emotions of others), you walked over and wrapped your arms around him, head resting on his clothed chest, “missed you, Jay.”

Almost hesitantly, his arms returned the hug, his head burying itself in your hair, “sorry…” he breathed out, almost too quiet. He was tense as you pulled back a bit, reaching up to grab his face in your gloved hands as you leaned up on your toes, pulling his head down to yours. You touched your forehead to his, making certain to be gentle, “Honestly, it’s okay Jay. I forgive you, okay?”

“Cold,” his hands cupped your (oddly chilled) gloved ones, eyes searching your face before he shifted, head nodding slightly, rubbing yours. A heavy sigh escaped him, an awkward smile forming, “so, how’s my cutest little sister been?”

Glad that he was trying to get past his guilt, you shook your head, “a roller coaster. Dad’s upset at me.”

He just snorted in amusement, relaxing a little as you continued, “And how was California? The Titans? I miss Kory…” you blinked at his flat expression, “what? You were at the Tower, right? With Kory and Roy, and the others?”

Wow you ruined the moment fast.

“Aaaand that’s where you stop being cute. I swear this family is full of creepers. I think Dick’s the only normal one,” you tilted your head as he kept his hands firmly on your shoulders. “Honestly, you and Tim are terrifying, your brother is a demon, and I don’t even want to describe Bruce.”

“Glad you didn’t include yourself in that, zomboy,” he groaned, “that’s hurtful,” then he pouted, finally getting a good look at you.

Terrence was old enough to stand on his two legs as he held onto the chair, but he kept stumbling as he moved uncertainly. His eyes were focused on his mission as he started trying to climb further up.

Something clicked in the back of Jason’s brain, sudden realization dawning, “what…” you sighed, his hand moving from your shoulder, “is this…?” You refused to meet his stare as his fingers hooked on the zipper of your jacket, “uhm…” you flushed as he pulled it down, a bright red bat in his face.

There was a sudden sparkle in his eyes.

“Huh, didn’t expect you to be that much of a fan.” You were burning from head to toe now, refusing to look at him at all, rubbing the back of your neck with a thick swallow. “That… that’s kind of the problem…”

“What, that you’re walking around with my colors?” His grin seemed disappointed, but turned a bit more concerned at the frown you leveled at him, “it… let me explain… I think I need help…”

“Definitely gonna need explanations. A lot of them.” The kid was one thing, this outfit was another. He made to sit down, and you followed, leaving Terrence to his own devices for the moment.

It’s not like there was much trouble to get into, everything of worth or danger was out of his reach.

“…yeah.”

“…”

“What is it?”

“…Why’d you think I slept with someone? When you first saw Terrence in my arms?”

He leaned away from you, chin resting on his palm, propped up on the arm of the couch with his elbow, “I’m your brother, and he looks like… it’s… I’m supposed to get upset about that… just… answer…” he did his best to keep a straight face, but eventually he had to turn away, looking at the wall, ears burning.

“Hm…?” you leaned towards him and he didn’t have to look at you to know you had a less than innocent smile on right now.

“Creep.”

You just laughed as you leaned into his side, causing him to crack a small smile, still not looking at you.

[“So… How to start this…”]

[“The suit, first, Terry after.”]

[“Terry?”]

[“The kid. Just explaaaaain already, uuugh I have patrol in a few hours…”]

[A heavy sigh, “Okay, then... So, you know how Lex helps fund the Society’s shenanigans?”]

[“…oh.”]

[“Yeah.”]

When it came to most places, breaking and entering was always easier at night, but for the LexCorp building? Nighttime came with problems, it came with heightened security, rigorous control, and the easy ability to spot something that was out of place. There was also your youngest brother who had filled you in on his adventures with Jon once, not a single detail of the LexCorp building having been left out; he was a thorough kid.

It was far easier to infiltrate during the day, the number of staff on the security team, the cliques of scientists and researchers, and the average workers meandering about made it easy to blend. You had donned a pair of (older prototype) smart glasses, normal from the viewer’s perspective, an integrative matrix mapping AI system from the wearer’s. Well, it could do more, but this was what you needed, the constant reconstruction of old building plans for more accuracy as you walked around.

Tim’d made some amazing things over the years, such as his matrix encryption to keep your work phone quiet, scrambling any noticeable connections that could be traceable. But this one was probably the coolest in your opinion, and he had yet to see the return of said glasses since you wouldn’t give them up, and he could never find where you’d put them. The glasses were a useful subtle change from the norm, a quick disguise, the security barely giving you a glance-over as you entered the passcode for the ID tag you wore, walking into the building.

With a slight wave from you, and a “Good Afternoon!” from them, getting in the backdoor was always the easy part. There were two more women next to you chatting in excitement and you made to stick close to them, parting only when you came upon the women’s locker rooms. The badge number Tim’d tracked down for you was useful until it wasn’t, Lex’s problem was needing levels three and above extensive background checks on anyone hired, and Tim knew exactly where to look.

[“Like I said, terrifying.”]

[“You do the same thing.”]

[“That’s a bit above my paygrade, usually I ask Tim for help when I need information from behind top-of-the-line security walls.”]

[“Oh.”]

[“Yeah.”]

Next was invasion of personal privacy and property, and a lot of it. You’d have felt worse if it weren’t for having been raised this way, “you’ll find out that people are just that, some sick and twisted, some happy and kind-hearted, but in the end, we’re all the same. Eventually, nothing will surprise you,” your father would say.

It didn’t take long, going through a few lockers and purses, letting your glasses do most of the work. They were able to see in a three-dimensional matrix, constantly being constructed behind most any material or metal. There were plenty of lab coats in varying sizes to choose from, and you spotted one badge and wondered who the dumdum was. You had plenty of electromagnetic strips for your ID if you needed a switch, but it seemed unnecessary. Some people left their everything when they clocked out, too.

You’d secured your purse around your stomach and under your shirt, the bulge flattened at your side, tying the ends in place. It would uncomfortably dig into you, but you couldn’t leave it behind and it would only be for a short time.

No one had paid you any mind, too busy rushing to get in and out of the locker rooms, and you made to escape with a group of women in the same coats as yourself. The group and yourself came to an elevator, and you let them do all the work. One of them scanning their ID for the group, the rest blurting out the number of the floor they needed to get to, and yourself joining in. A strange calm settling as you got more into the coworker attitude.

Seventh level Research and Development wing.

[“Not his office?”]

[“Why?”]

[“I dunno, there’s probably some terrible top-secret info in there.”]

[“I mean, I was on the main R&D floor, how much more top secret can you get?”]

[“Touché.”]

The entire R&D area was made up of floor to ceiling glass window dividers, a white and chromatic color scheme, and a lot of tightly sealed doors. You honestly didn’t even need the glasses to find the head researcher’s office, it was written in huge bold letters next to the dumb door on a plaque.

Weaving through a few people with their eyes busy reading clipboards and cellphones, you eyed each inch of the floor, and wondered if the other stock standard R&D floors at LexCorp were similar. No one paid you any mind as you stood in front of the group of office doors, all packed neatly in a little corner, and each leading to a different R&D office. They were mostly empty, only one occupied, most of the techbros and techgals were out and about doing work.

Again, the glasses did the decoding work for you, getting you the set of numbers you needed to enter the room. Unlike the rest of the lab, this office had less windows, though the few it did have were still large. Though they faced out rather than in, and it also wasn’t as large and as roomy as you’d have imagined. The Wayne R&D offices being waaay bigger in comparison.

Taking out two small flash drives, you shoved the sticks into the lone computer on the desk, booted it up, and just let them do their thing. Having the computer start with the flash drive, it acted as an executable program, letting it bypass any needed passcodes or security clearance for now.

One for unlocking the system, the other for information storage.

No doubt someone will notice that.

You wondered briefly if this was how the Cyborg felt, only ever having gotten to see him briefly before he utterly devastated an entire operating system. He then rebuilt it to his preferences, all in the matter of seconds. Tim had always lamented not getting to watch when you described it.

Notably, it was quite lovely how LexCorp’s researchers had everything organized in a folder subsystem so well. You were able to track down the needed information in less than a few minutes through the root directory.

Gotta be faster.

However, as you stared at the processing bar on your information download, there wasn’t a whole lot to do. Clicking the monitor’s sleep button to dim any light, you stood up and strode over to the door.

Being the lookout for a computer program was a new one.

[“Pfff.”]

[He snickered behind his palm as you smacked him on the shoulder.]

[“At least you got in without needing to hack anything yourself. Get dunked on, Dick, Damian.”]

[Light laughter echoed.]

Nothing had happened by the time the computer let out a small ding, indicating the download had finished. With both flash drives now pocketed, you turned to the next problem: getting out.

It really shouldn’t have been that hard, it was so stupidly easy to get in, thank you new temporary coworkers, but as you eyed the group of security detail by the elevator, you made a hard turn to the side.

Had you gone through the front doors instead of the employee entrance, you would have seen a ton of security. Through the back however, they really were only at certain check points, it’s not like just anyone could get in. So of course, there was no way they would have been able to get so far as the head office of any department.

How long had you been gone from the others? How long did you still have on Tim’s encryptions?

Oh heck.

The options were now trying to squeeze by the security, which was doubtful, they were checking everyone, or figure out a way to base jump without any gear. Neither option sounded appealing, you had no wings or grappling hooks with you, and it was still midday.

The corridor you turned into went from full on glass to a partition supporting windows, half and half, split horizontally to allow for more privacy, probably.

This was also exactly where you didn’t want to be.

Frick.

Most of the rooms looked like chemistry labs, charts everywhere, huge gravity convection and forced-air ovens, and thermo-freezers that looked like they belonged in meat markets. It was almost overwhelming at how cool some of these things looked as you searched for an exit. So filled with anxiety and adrenaline as you were, you almost missed it out of the corner of your eye. It was the red shimmering of a glass bowl on your face that made you notice it, the barely-there stream of sun that caught it just right.

You wasted no time getting to work, the door just as easy as the others, passcodes, they were all passcodes. Where were the fingerprint and retina scanners? Hell, where was the facial recognition scanners? You’d come prepared for so much, so you were incredibly confused at the lax security features. But again, this wasn’t the ground floor and security clearance was stricter this far in, your badge did most of the infiltration for you.

Was your dad that paranoid that now, so were you?

[“The civi world is full of sub-par idiots.”]

[“You sound like Dami.]

[“Gross.”]

[“…it’s uncanny, really, he said the same thing.”]

[“Shit.”]

The room looked similar to the others, less windows, more wall, plenty of graphs and charts, but there were a few different things as well. A few of which you pocketed; the only expensive looking laptop was also grabbed straight off a table to the side of your quarry.

The most notable thing however was glaring you boldly in the face, all black and a giant red bat on the chest.

A batsuit.

[“Yeah, I’m gonna want to know why baldy even had this thing.”]

[“Tim’s going through the drives right now, Dami dropped them off…”]

[“Damn.”]

Why did Lex have a batsuit? Where did he get it from, or did he help develop it? Terrence was part of all this, and what about your fa… the Batman? Why was Cadmus part of all this? Why was Lex? Were there more suits? More clo— children?

Shit shit shitshitshitshi—

To say you were freaking out a bit was an understatement.

Hearing heavy footsteps, you panicked and grabbed the garment from behind it’s glass case and took a dive behind the nearest desk. They hadn’t come in yet, they hadn’t gotten to this room, there was still time, but… still time to what?

You eyed the suit in your hands, it’s size horribly different from your own body type (but you could probably still fit it) and you decided to make a really dumb decision then and there.

You were gonna get caught regardless, might as well suit up and try to fight your way out. If you were lucky, you could get out of this without ruining your father’s reputation (or Batman’s identity.)

You began stripping behind the desk, fully intent on donning the batsuit. If nothing else, these things usually came with masks, even though you hadn’t seen a single one near it.

The moment you pulled the fabric over your legs, heels sliding effortlessly into the red soles, you watched almost in amazement as the fabric melted to your skin, reshaping to fit you. There was going to be a lot of bagginess in the suit when you wore it, a lot of tightness in weird places, too, and it had looked fitted to a larger male. So you hadn’t expected the suit to fit perfectly on purpose. It even had a built-in utility belt. Suddenly you were a bit giddy.

Again, what the hell was Lex Luthor doing?

“So freaking cool.”

The material felt almost like a second skin, there was also no sensory loss from wearing it, you could feel the floor as if you were barehanded.

You’d never thought about it before, but now you couldn’t take your mind off Dick and his skintight suit. You felt almost nude in this suit, not used to something showing everything off like it was.

Did Dick enjoy this?

Your ears burned brightly as you finished suiting up, no longer able to think about a large portion of superheroes and villains.

How could you ever face some of them again?

How could you ever look Dick in the eyes again?

“Oh no…”

Perverts. All of them.

[Loud laughter.]

[A very red face.]

You had to admit though, it was so much cooler than your heavier and bulkier recon gear. It didn’t weigh you down and the sensory adaptation was something you’d never come across before. Speaking of, reaching up, you took the glasses off to get a clear view of your surroundings and immediately regretted it.

The suit seemed to come to life on it’s own as something came out of nowhere, engulfing your head in complete darkness.

A silent scream, too terrified to let out any sound.

You about died then and there.

The suit wasn’t that cool anymore.

Without missing a beat and calming your fears of being bagged or worse, the darkness faded, and you could see your surroundings. Blinking for a moment to adjust, you tried to get your bearings on what the hell just happened, your hand gingerly coming up to feel your face.

[Booting...]

Were you hearing things or did the suit just...?

Unfortunately, that was the exact moment the door to the room you were in opened, and you panicked. It was a dead-end room, you weren’t as good at fighting as your brothers, and the security here could be scary when hunting down an intruder.

Stupid Lex.

Without thinking, you grabbed your things now bundled up in the labcoat like a bag, slung it over your shoulder, and bolted towards one of the windows looking out.

You were so used to recon jobs that you hadn’t taken into consideration that you had none of your gear (but your brothers did this kind of stupid thing constantly, so you’d be okay, right?).

You were too caught up in the moment.

You hadn’t heard the sound, mind too blank, but the glass falling around you was enough indication of just what you had done.

Base jumping it was.

You were in a batsuit, after all.

Falling seven stories was terrifying, but definitely brought you back to reality. Securing the makeshift bag on your back, tied around your neck, you began thinking as fast as you could. Claws? The suit had them, you had noticed, but you were too far from the building, having jumped a distance, then... The suit had a built-in utility belt, right? Maybe there was something useful in one of the —

[Servo-Motors engage…]

[Checking system function…]

[Loading protocol…]

…huh?

[84 feet till impact.]

…wait—

[75 feet till impact.]

“Yeah I see that.”

[71 feet till impact.]

“Thanks.” Sarcasm, “What else can you tell me other than my unfortunate demise at the hands of gravity?”

[Thrusters not online.]

[68 feet till impact.]

[Grappling gun unavailable.]

[Batarang lines unavailable.]

[67 feet till impact.]

[Retractable wings availa—]

“Yes, that one, wings, please! Wait… thrusters?” you had little time as your whole body suddenly started tumbling, a set of red wings expanding between your arms and the sides of your torso. “Shitshitsh—” and then you were gliding, your arms having spread on their own from the force of the fall. “Oh… Oh my…”

The suit was cool again, “Dang this is… nice… Like a bird or… him.” You reeeaaallllly didn’t want to chance him hearing you say his name.

You wanted to try this higher up now, in a sea of clouds… It was like floating, an almost weightless feeling taking over. The wind currents were a bit to get used to, but it wasn’t terrible, having imagined it would be worse higher up, in them dang fluffy clouds... sigh.

[23 feet till landing.]

The suit helped guide you to an area with less people, something akin to your own Gotham alleyways (to a point, Metropolis’ worst streets were like Gotham’s safest ones). The small alley that led to several businesses’ back doors was rather clean, and there weren’t many places to hide. The best you could do was a growing shadow next to an empty dumpster.

“Alright then…” you sighed aloud, hands doing their best to find any seam in the suit, and after a few minutes, your—

[Heart rate at 142bpm.]

[Heart rate rising.]

[Blood pressure at—]

“—No kidding,” you thought, mind racing, and unfortunately, there wasn’t a single seam on the suit.

Anxiety was building in your chest,

“Frick.”

[“Wait, the suit talks?”]

[“I think it has an OS on it? I haven’t tried the cowl since…”]

[“You should.”]

[“…Nnnn”]

“Why do you look like Nightwing?” All you did was take the clothes from Damian and began to dress yourself over the suit, not certain at all on what you could say to this situation. You’d called Damian the moment you lucked out and made the cowl… come off?, and in his eagerness to leave Jon behind, he showed up quickly.

“You will tell me,” he was sounding just like dad.

“Dami, I uhm…”

“…I won’t tell father.” he could deduce a few things this pertained to, including but not limited to the child you had brought home, and how you avoided Bruce.

You could only sigh and nod at him, resigned. You really hope this didn’t come back to bite you in the bottom.

“What are you two doing?”

The clothes you had couldn’t cover most of the suit, the clothes Damian had brought you were able to do just that. Strangely, you weren’t feeling overheated, even though you looked like you were ready for cold weather.

“Ah, Jon.”

“You look silly.”

“…thanks.”

[“…”]

[”...”]

“Nightwing? Screw that brat.”

“Please don’t speak like that…” you sighed, your head in your hands.

He just huffed in annoyance, “I wear the colors better,” he muttered, “it sounds like a lot, what's your next plan of action?”

You let yourself slump forwards as he pulled you into a side-hug, arm slung over your shoulders, “it’s this suit. I can’t get it off, and—"

BAM

You and Jason about had twin heart attacks.

Without missing another fraction of a second, the larger male was on his feet, flipping over the back of the couch ready to attack before he swore at the sight in front of him. Striding over to the table in two long steps, “What the hell, Terry.” He haphazardly picked the kid up, a red helmet falling on the table with a clang, and turned to you, “your kid just tried to kill us, you realize.”

Having slid to the ground out of need to instantly roll to the side, you stopped, staring at the smoking gun that’d been pushed off the table, lying on the floor near you. Your eyes then shifting to the hole in the safehouse’s wall, “Uhm… The safety…”

He just snorted, “I don’t always have it on.” He wasn’t great at taking care of himself, sadly. You did your best with your busy schedule and budgeted time constraints, but when he wasn’t here, he easily fell into old habits.

“Please don’t let the demon spawn near him.”

“Please keep the damned safety on your guns.”

Batman was straining so hard that it looked like he was in the middle of a fight, an obvious aura of unrest around him.

“Whoa, you gonna punch yourself in the face? Wait, wait a minute, I gotta…” Batman groaned, irritated as a red blur came into the room, jabbered on too quickly, then took his phone out and pointed it at the big bat.

“Okay, I’m recording now, do it!”

It took a moment as Batman thought, rubbing his temples.

“I trained my kids too well,” at that, Flash put his phone down, tilting his head in confusion, “and that’s… bad?” He looked up at the League’s computers in front of him, noting the blinking [[ALERT ALERT ALERT]] off to the side.

“Because,” Batman reasoned, “I have to deal with them,” he ground out, glaring at the sign of intrusion.

“Ooooh, your kids hacked into the system again, huh?” Flash let out a low whistle, clearly amused by Batman’s misfortunes. Batman did his best to ignore the red nerd, calling on Cyborg to assist him, even though he had already been on his way, noticing it moments prior.

“Family, amirite?”

Batman said nothing in response,

Tim almost got away with it.

Almost.

#tim drake x reader #dick grayson x reader #jason todd x reader #stephanie brown x reader #duke thomas x reader #bat!sis

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collecting-stories · 4 years

Text

Cowboy Blues - pt. 01 - Rafe Cameron

Summary: You swipe right on Tinder with some interesting results.

One Thing Right Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

△ ▽ △ ▽

You weren’t traditional by any sense of the word. You’d given up all those crazy ideals that had been ingrained in your personality when you realized that you weren’t going to find a high school sweetheart to settled down with. Or a college one for that matter. You settled for nice dates with average guys and tried to remind yourself daily that you needed no one to complete your life. It was fine on its own.

“I think the literal class of guy has gone down,” your best friend Nina mentioned as she scrolled through your phone. You loved Nina but she was tone-deaf to most of your single life complaints. She was already married, to the same guy she had been dating since middle school. After HSM came out she had been madly in love with Zac Efron and had managed to find the one guy in your school that looked almost just like him and they’d stayed together.

“You’re on tinder right now, just to put that commentary into perspective for you.” You pointed out, annoyed mostly. Nina had invited herself to come have lunch with you while you worked on finalizing your classroom for the coming school year. While you tried to get actual work done, Nina just scrolled through the guys on your tinder and bitched about their profiles, as if she expected to find some great life partner for you.

It was probably cynical of you to say but, if you never dated again, never settled down with anyone, it probably wouldn’t matter. Wedding fever sprung up whenever someone else was tying the knot or having a kid but when that passed you weren’t particularly eager to look for someone. People had been, for the majority, disappointing since you had turned 18 and, for the past eight years you hadn’t been proven right.

Someone to cohabitate with might be nice. You certainly thought about it on nights when you were feeling particularly isolated from the rest of the world, but all that disappeared when you considered how used to being alone you actually were and what cohabitating would actually mean. Someone who would leave dirty dishes in the sink, leave water on the bathroom floor and track it through the house, who would chew too loud or hate the food you liked or snore too obscenely or drink too much. There were a million flaws with your imaginary future suitor and you listed them all anytime you got the bug to start dating again. But twenty-six was old, according to Nina, and you needed to get married.

“What about him, he’s cute?” She held the phone out to you, the guy in the picture was smiling, sitting in front of a table with food. You looked up briefly from the lesson plan you were writing out, nearly losing your mouthful of coffee.

You swallowed and took the phone, staring at the picture, maybe a little too long.

“He’s cute babe, but he’s not like People Magazine’s hottest man alive.” Nina said in response to your out burst.

“No, no, I know him.” You explained, eyes still on the picture. God, you couldn’t help thinking that he looked good. Did you look that good? He was the spitting image of what he’d been in the stairwell at Duke. Attractive, self-assured, a little cocky. “We went to the same college. I hooked up with him one time at a party before spring break…I uh, he told me to call him and I lost his number.”

“On purpose?” She asked, plucking the phone out of your hands. She lingered on his picture, waiting for your either glowing recommendation or scathing review before she swiped. He was cute, she’d give you that. He was tan, tall, even in the picture it was obvious, and just nice to look at.

“No,” You admitted. “I was gonna call him and then I got back together with Ian.” Your ex-boyfriend be damned, you left out the part where you thought about your random hook way more often than a sane person should. After spring break it hadn’t been hard to dodge him, Duke had a massive campus and you didn’t have any of the same classes but every time you and Ian had it out you couldn’t help wondering what it would’ve been like if you’d called him back. Even after you graduated and moved back home to Boston, you still couldn’t quite shake the memory of him.

“Well Ian’s getting married and you’re not...so,” she swiped and then closed the app, sliding off your desk to take a slow appraisal of your classroom while she dug the knife in deeper, “are you going to Ian’s wedding?”

Nina kept asking, as if you had much say in the matter, and you kept answering, deflating your ego every time you had to say yes. “I have to…it’s my grade partner. She even made me a bridesmaid.” Admittedly, you and Anya had been much closer before your boyfriend of three years dumped you and immediately started dating her. Now it felt hard to be around her for too long, like going home for the holidays and trying to keep quiet when your drunk uncle brought up the political climate in the country. Anya told you she had held off the wedding because she wanted to ‘wait until the dust settled’. As if it hurt less now. For different reasons, sure, but not less.

In a month’s time you’d be sitting through a bridal shower that her sister kept texting you to help coordinate and plan. She’d tried to be nice, giving you a plus one to the wedding because you didn’t know any of her friends or family. The only other person you knew was Ian, ex-boyfriend and groom, not exactly who you wanted to be hanging out with. Of course, you knew his family and that just made the whole ordeal so much more awkward.

The plus-one was an empty gesture though. Just a reminder that there was no one for you to invite. But you kept hoping, maybe you’d meet someone. Maybe you could transport yourself into a Hallmark movie and rent a date or something. Fall madly in love in a week and move to their small town and never look back. Then, at least, you could miss the wedding altogether.

“She’s a fucking back stabbing bitch.” Nina commented, as if this was some new piece of information that she was finding out about now.

“Anya is super sweet.” You defended, only because it was true. Anya might’ve been marrying your douche of an ex-boyfriend but she was categorically the nicest person that you had ever met. “It wasn’t like he cheated on me, we broke up.” You didn’t want to have this conversation anymore. Not two weeks before the beginning of school. Two weeks before you had to look at her face every day until the honeymoon.

“They got together pretty quick.” Nina pointed out, not that she ever needed to. “Well, whatever, so what was this guy like, what was his name?”

“Did you swipe right on him and not even look at his name?” You asked, reaching for your phone to check.

“Yeah, so? She asked, “You said you knew him.”

“I said I slept with him.” You corrected.

“Same thing.” She shrugged, “name?”

“Rafe. Cameron.”

She ‘ohhhh-ed’ appreciatively, “What was he like?” She asked. “He sounds rich.”

“Hot,” you shrugged, “I don’t know he was probably a total fuck boy. He asked me to call him the next morning after breakfast and I said sure and then when I got back to my dorm Ian was there.” You provided the short story of events, omitting any major details about that night. You told Nina everything but you had never told her about Rafe, always a little wistful about the encounter. As if it was some personal memory that would lose its importance should anyone else know about it.

“He made you breakfast?”

“Yeah, so?”

“That’s like jackpot. God you could be like, married right now, popping babies out for some Swedish Au pair to run around after.” Nina replied raising her eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m glad you’ve created this weird ‘rich kid’ narrative but I have no idea. It’s not like I was checking the guy’s financials while I was sucking his dick.” You lowered your voice at the end of the sentence, just in case the pushing 80 secretary walked past and heard you.

“Please, have you seen him? That is a baby-faced, rich boy living on his daddy’s money. And you could be too.”

“Okay, look, I was 20, I wasn’t trying to settle down and get married. At least not to some random guy I only hooked up with because my boyfriend was a douche.” You replied. Not to mention that breakfast had essentially consisted of one bite of toast before he was eating you out on the counter of his off-campus apartment. Not exactly the romantic beginning to a relationship. “Wait, did you swipe right?” You asked, almost immediately horrified at the thought.

“Maybe.”

“No,” you groaned, “fuck, he’s gonna think I’m so weird!”

“He will not. Besides, if he’s as much of a fuck boy as you say then guarantee he doesn’t even remember you.” She replied. “Besides, if he answers, it’ll be kinda nice ya know? Go out, have a nice dinner, get fucked, all your problems melt away.”

“He better not remember me.” You grumbled. You were not prepared for the absolute humiliation that would come from him seeing you on Tinder and remembering you.

“Did you really sleep with so few guys in college that you remember him?”

“You’ve slept with one person in the last decade…” you pointed out.

“And?” She slipped her sweatshirt back on and grabbed her bag, “whatever, I’m heading out. I have work in 30.”

With Nina gone, you slumped back in your chair and grabbed your phone. You had a tendency to never get rid of anything; it was the great downfall of your life. Someday you would accumulate so much stuff you would become a hoarder and then no one would love you but the cats that used your belongings as a litter box. It was a terrible habit but it lent to usefulness sometimes, especially in moments like this, as you scrolled through your phone, finding Rafe’s contact. You had told Nina that you’d lost Rafe’s number but in actuality you had kept it stored in your phone even though you’d never used it.

Now, this wedding fever was doing nothing but confirm your fear that you were one step closer to an unfulfilling life alone. Even Lorelai Gilmore didn’t stay single forever.

You stared at his name in your contact list, a little fire emoji next to it and you could remember laughing at him when he typed it in. It was more a playful jab at the way your Boston accent had pronounced the word fire than anything to do with him though you thought it was an accurate description.

You wondered if he had the same number. If you’d called him that night, would it have been another failed relationship to catalog away for when you were feeling especially shitty. Or would he have left you for the bubbly grade partner that you wanted to hate so much but couldn’t. Nina had swiped right on him but you didn’t even know where he lived these days. You were living in Boston again. You’d moved home for your masters and stayed when the teaching internship turned into an actual job.

North Carolina had been fun for school, being 12 hours away from home had given you the most incredible sense of freedom but nowhere was New England and you’d been itching to go home again just as soon as you’d arrived down there. Though coming back to Boston, you had found it different than you’d left it. Even with Nina here, she was married, she had her own life away from you. As much as you tried to settle in and pretend that everything was fine, you couldn’t help but admit that Nina was right, you did need someone.

Single life felt a lot more routine than you imagined it would. A call from your mother, complaining that your sister was acting out and being generally awful, a call from your sister, accusing your mother of being overbearing, and hours of alone time filled mostly by reading, walking your dog, and binging TV shows. “At least you got a dog and not a cat.” Nina had said when you brought Fivel home. He was pre-named and you were always partial to An American Tail.

“Only so I would exercise.” You had replied, knowing you had to walk the dog, a black lab mix that was a puppy when you got him. “You hear that Five, I’m using you for my own gain.” He had gotten big since then, fully grown now with a personality that included forgetting his size and spreading out on top of you when you laid on the couch.

Your apartment was small, an old converted brownstone with three apartments, yours on the top floor above a middle-aged couple with a very spoiled seven-year-old. They were nice when they weren’t blaring Disney movies and you resented that even in your house you couldn’t escape children but you couldn’t be too upset. The place was nicer than you could’ve hoped, truthfully. Especially living alone.

Even with a nice place to live though, it was always the same. Walking Fivel, making whatever dinner that came in the Sunbasket boxes at the beginning of the week, and watching Top Chef.

You closed out of your contacts, going back to Tinder as if Rafe would’ve already messaged you. All Nina had written was ‘hey’, as if that was supposed to entice someone into replying. You doubted the stupid picture of you from last year at the beach really did anything special. You weren’t surprised to find that there was no reply yet. You read his profile over again, unsure what else to say. The night the two of you hooked up you had both been at a party though these days your partying had been replaced with drinking alone.

Whoever said don’t waste your twenties would’ve recoiled in horror at the way you were living.

“Leaving so soon?”

You turned away from the double doors leading out onto campus, the click of the bar as it released echoing in your ear for a second, drowned out mostly by the music that was coming from the various dorms that had their doors open. It was a floor party; one you’d come to with some friends in high hopes of forgetting your current ex-boyfriend Ian once and for all. Three months of condescending comments and gaslighting finally pushing you over the edge.

“I was just...getting some fresh air.” You replied, shrugging. Trying to look calm, unaffected by this stranger’s sudden entrance into your life. He was cute, far more so than Ian. Taller too. You thought you recognized him from the lacrosse team your roommate was so obsessed with. “Lacrosse players are never unattractive.” She had argued once when she dragged you to a game.

He definitely fit the bill for her ideal of the lacrosse playing frat boy. Hot, tall, tan, his cap was on backwards and he looked so relaxed but also so sure of himself. Like whatever was going to happen in this hallway was going to go exactly how he wanted.

“Want some company?” He asked, taking a sip from the cup in his hand but not taking his eyes off you.

You felt like your heart was hammering in your chest, head swimming and you’d not even had anything to drink that night. “I uh…” worse case scenarios increased by tenfold in your head given the context of the situation. You were alone in a hallway, potentially about to go outside, while everyone else was partying, where they couldn’t hear you, with some guy you didn’t know at all. A guy who gave off some pretty strong ‘get-whatever-I-want’ vibes and he’d said no more than two sentences to you. “I uh, kinda wanted to be alone.”

“Cool, cool.” He shrugged, “no problem.”

For whatever reason that possessed you to think it was a genuinely okay idea, so you walked out, the door clicking open as you stepped onto the pavement. You kicked the stopper so it wouldn’t shut all the way because you’d rather be able to get back in than somehow have both of you trapped out here if he did decide to follow you. No alcohol, your brain was just malfunctioning or maybe your roommate was right and your usual suspicion of everyone had turned a nice moment into an awful one.

It was significantly colder outside than it had been in the dorms, even in the hallway, and you breathed out a sigh of relief. You wanted to scream at Ian for not even letting you have a good time when you were out with friends because you kept thinking of him. He was off somewhere, already on spring break, no doubt hooking up with girls you’d never know about because you had told him it was over. And it was, you were just so completely unsure-

You’re silent berating ended mid-sentence when you turned around to see your lacrosse playing stranger sitting on the steps just inside the door. He smiled at you and waved and you almost laughed at the oddity of the moment as you came back inside.

“What are you doing?” You asked, holding the door open and letting some of the cold air deep in.

“You said you wanted to be alone. Figured I’d wait.”

“For?”

He shrugged, standing up and leaning against the bottom of the railing, “you, to not want to be alone.”

“Well,” you were momentarily caught off guard, a nervous laugh escaping. Truthfully, you had never had someone flirt with you like this before, so directly obvious about liking you. Not necessarily one with quick-witted comebacks, you were still fairly good at deflecting when you needed too but somehow, he had rendered you speechless.

He nodded his head toward the steps, “we can just sit? Door’s right there,” he offered, referring to the dorm room less than six feet away. The door was open and you could hear a mix of chatter and music.

“Okay.” You agreed, letting the door close on the stopper, the slightest wave of cool air seeping in while you walked over and took a seat beside him. You introduced yourself, unsure what else to do, and probably sounded like every middle-aged family member he had when you asked him what his major was.

“Rafe Cameron,” he replied, “economics.”

“Oh god,” you said before you could stop yourself. He was the full package clearly, though of what you weren’t sure. He sounded rich, by the name alone, econ major, lacrosse player, potentially, and absolutely fuckable. There was no other coherent way to describe it. “I took an econ course as an elective freshman year, it really fucked me up.”

“Not a math person?” He asked, another sip of his drink and you really wished you had one. Anything to occupy a little corner of your brain so everything wasn’t so solely focused on him.

“No, no, not at all.” You shook your head. “So…do you live in this dorm?”

“Nah, my roommate’s dating some girl in one of these,” he replied, the same head nodded toward the rooms as before, “I’m just here for the booze, and the company.”

That wasn’t even that smooth of a line and you were melting at it. You weren’t sure if you were just dying for some positive attention or going through the motions of a breakup but either way you were seriously considering your roommate’s earlier encouragement of ‘letting yourself go’. Have fun, she had said, be bold.

“You play lacrosse, right?” You asked, because you were 95% sure you’d seen him and it was eating at you a little bit. You felt like you were grasping at straws trying to think of what to say. You were fairly positive that he was only talking to you because he wanted to have sex with you but honestly, you really wanted to have sex with him too.

“I do,” he grinned and you knew you’d basically given him the upper hand. “You’ve been to a game?”

“I’ve been to all of them.” You said before you could stop yourself. “I mean, my roommate’s a big fan of lacrosse or lacrosse players, not sure, so we always go.”

“Not a fan yourself?”

“No, I mean, I like it, you guys have a good team.” You shrugged. This was going terribly, or you would think it was if he wasn’t looking at you like that.

“Yeah?” He grinned, sliding a little closer to you on the stairs.

“I should close that door, it’s getting cold in here.” You mentioned, standing up suddenly.

Rafe couldn’t help his smile as you walked down the steps to the door. He had come out into the hallway because the party was boring, the music was subpar, and Topper was starting to annoy him. He had considered going back to the apartment altogether but he’d just sat on the stairs instead, as if he was waiting for something. And then you’d come along. “We could head back to my place? It’s warm.” He offered. A stupid line, sure, but the last one had played well for him so he tried this one.

You almost laughed at the cheesiness of his comment. The way he said it, even with how you’d felt when you first realized he was there, was easy, letting you know that the decision was yours entirely. Maybe it was a decision you shouldn’t have been making right this moment but he was gorgeous and anything that had you not thinking about your ex was good enough for you. “Yeah, but I’ll be cold on the way there.”

His lower lip jutted out, pouting at you playfully, “We’ll drive, you can stay warm in the car, promise.”

Sans Nina stopping by, the next day played out the same as the day before. You managed to hold off checking your Tinder until halfway through lunch. It wasn’t like you’d stopped thinking about it or forgot the whole exchange with Nina the day before. You’d locked the whole thing away to reminisce about at some later date when you were no doubt alone once again. Alone and-

And he had sent you a message. It just said hey back, and a subtle compliment about your profile picture, telling you that he would kill for beach weather right now and that ‘blue is his favorite color’, you clicking back a second later and realizing that the bathing suit you had on in your profile picture was, in fact, blue. You half wondered if he remembered you and that’s why it was so casual. But he was arguably that casual the night you met too. If you’d been in a less hyper aware state of mind you would’ve never realized he was flirting with you.

You stared at the message for half of your lunch hour wondering what to say in return. Something witty maybe, though you were feeling as tongue tied as you had that night six years ago. Not at all the confident person you always envisioned yourself being at this point in your life but the nervous one who said dumb stuff that you didn’t mean to.

-I went last weekend with a friend and it was literally too cold to take my sweatshirt off...fall’s a bitch-

You replied, attaching a frowning emoji to the end of your sentence. You hated your inability to be cool online. What else could you say though? You couldn’t ask if he remembered you. Say that if he did remember you than you were sorry for never calling and you know how much of an ass matching with him on Tinder probably seems. Or that pathetically enough for you that night and following morning are arguably the best sex you’ve ever had. Or even that his profile picture made him look better than you remembered, god why did you get back together with Ian.

Rafe had seen the match almost immediately. Working from home that afternoon, he’d only been half paying attention to the zoom meeting that he was on, scrolling through his phone when the notification popped up. He had clicked into Tinder, staring at your name and profile picture off and on for a good hour while he tried to think of something to say to you.

Something clever.

He wasn’t exactly the most sentimental person anyone had ever met and he’d slept with plenty of people in college but he knew you the minute he saw your picture. You looked exactly the same as you had that night, though the picture you used for your profile didn’t quite do justice to the way your eyes lit up when you smiled or how ridiculously easy it had been for him to be completely infatuated with you that night.

You had never called him and he couldn’t fault you for that, it wasn’t exactly like he was screaming boyfriend material back then. He barely was now. Whenever he thought about you, and he was sure it was more frequently than it should be for a one night stand from college, he assumed you’d probably met someone, settled down...all that ridiculous stuff his sister was into.

He said he liked the blue of your bathing suit in the picture of you and that he wished it was beach weather because seeing you honestly had him missing the Outer Banks more than he expected to. He sent the text and spent the rest of the night feeling like a dumbass. There he was, blowing his chances all over again. But then, halfway through the next day, you texted back.

-You Bostonians need to work on your weather. -

He responded, as soon as he got the message, and then,

-I’ll get right on it...any specific requests?-

Your reply came back a few minutes later, after he checked his phone three more times.

-Warm enough to take you to the beach.-

Rafe responded a little faster than he probably should have. Maybe a little more desperate than he should have too but he couldn’t be bothered about that.

-Sans the sweatshirt? -

-Exactly.-

He followed the text up immediately with a,

-but since I can’t take you to the beach, are you free for dinner this Friday?-

-I am, yeah. Where did you have in mind?-

-Have you been to Menton? -

It was warm in the apartment, even for mid-March with the windows opened. The kind of weather that made you want to stretch out in bed and do nothing all day. Except this wasn’t your bed or your room and the noise coming from the kitchen was definitely not going to help lull you back to sleep. Opening your eyes to the sun streaming through the window, you climbed out of bed, grabbing the t-shirt from the carpeted floor and pulling it over your head.

You hadn’t intended to stay the night at Rafe’s but really, once you were there you hadn’t wanted to leave. Even now, all you really wanted was to find him and take him back to bed. Maybe not to sleep but definitely to sleep with.

“Oh my god, you’re so loud,” you teased, walking into the small kitchen to find Rafe standing over the stove, back to you. He turned at the sound of your voice and you had to appreciate the lack of clothing he had decided to wear to attempt breakfast, just a pair of navy-blue briefs.

“Watch it, you won’t get any of these world class scrambled eggs.” He replied, pointing his spatula back to the frying pan on the stove.

You walked closer to him, letting him wrap his arm around you and pull you into his side. “Those do look like some quality eggs,” you observed, putting your arm around his waist.

This felt so easy you were dreading going back to your dorm eventually. Ian hadn’t even made a guest appearance in your brain and he’d been pretty much the star since the two of you broke up. But right now, all you wanted to focus on was Rafe and getting to spend as much time with him as possible.

Rafe moved the skillet off the stove and laid the spatula down, using his free hand to grab your waist as he maneuvered you around in front of him. You yelped in surprise when his hands fell to your thighs and he hoisted you up onto the counter.

“Careful! You almost burned me!” You laughed, swatting his hands away.

“You’re not even near the burner.” he laughed, pushing your legs apart so he could stand in between them.

“I thought we were having breakfast?”

“We are.” He reasoned, the innuendo evident as he leaned down and kissed just above your bare knees. “When do you have to be back?”

“Whenever.” You shrugged, more than happy to have this moment play out, uninterrupted.

Menton was the kind of place that other people went to. Not first grade teachers on first grade teacher salaries. Even when you were younger, growing up in the more affluent part of western Massachusetts, you had never really been part of a ‘fancy restaurants’ family. Menton was just some place Nina mentioned when she talked about restaurants too expensive for normal people.

“What if he remembers me?” You had asked, a few hours earlier, when Nina showed up at your apartment with shoes for your outfit.

“Did he say he did?” Honestly curious about this guy you had never mentioned to her before.

“No. But what if he does?” You couldn’t help being paranoid about the whole date. You could still remember the feeling of being around him, of being with him. Rafe hadn’t mentioned to you that he remembered you, and thank god too because how awkward would that conversation had been? Just a ‘hey, aren’t you that girl I hooked up with six years ago in college?’. Why did Nina have to swipe right. Why couldn’t she have minded her own business and believed you when you said that you were over Ian and not at all concerned about the wedding.

You were freaking yourself out for nothing. Or because you were dressed nicer than you had been in two years and standing outside Menton.

“Hey.”

You turned toward the sound of someone calling your name, seeing Rafe walking across the street. You felt very much like you were twenty again, finding him watching you from the stairwell, butterflies in your stomach. You teetered for a moment on the sidewalk, unsure if you should wait for him to make it all the way to you or just walk up and hug him. That seemed a little extreme, honestly,

You could still remember the feeling of his arms around you but if he didn’t remember you, and you were banking on him not remembering, it would be odd to just grab him in the street. He eased the tension for you though, reaching an arm out for a side hug once he was close enough. Casual but still not too personal.

“Hey,” he repeated, stepping away from you for a brief appraisal. “You look beautiful.”

“Ah, thank you...this place looked so fancy online, I wasn’t sure what to wear.” You admitted.

“You googled it?” He sounded amused, even as he stepped in front of you to hold the door open and you could just imagine the smirk on his face. The same one he’d worn when you told him that you had seen all of his lacrosse games. (You had seen all the ones after that night too but you always made sure to sit high up in the bleachers and you never stuck around after a game.)

“Well, yeah...I wanted to read the menu.” You replied, pausing briefly as Rafe gave his name to the hostess and she grabbed two menus, walking you through the restaurant to a nice table in the back. Quiet but not too quiet.

“Hopefully it’s lived up to its reputation so far?” He asked, biting his tongue to stop himself from saying that he remembered how bizarrely neurotic you could be, even in the few hours that he had spent with you.

“I mean I haven’t eaten the food.” You stressed, looking at him over your shoulder as he pulled your chair out for you. “Thank you.”

He grimaced, as if the possibility of you rating this place, or the date, badly, was still an option then. “The oysters are really good...or the cappotelli.” He suggested, moving around to his side of the table, “do you have a wine preference?”

“Red, otherwise...not really.” You replied, letting him order a bottle for the table. This was somehow exactly the person you’d hooked-up with in college and not that person at all. As if you could see little cracks in the facade of his put-together appearance. “So, are you from Boston?”

“No,” he shook his head. He looked up at you for a moment, breaking his concentration with the menu before he laid the paper off to the side, “I’m from North Carolina, the Outer Banks, I actually ended up moving up here for work.”

“I know this sounds crazy-”

He hummed and you scrunched your nose at him.

“-I’m always like, surprised when people are like, from the beach.” You explained, “like I only think of the beach as vacation place not like a, live there all the time place.”

“That’s cause it gets ridiculously cold up here.” He replied, “No one wants to live on a beach where it snows.”

“The beach is nice off season!” You insisted. “It’s not crowded and you can just like, walk around-”

“If I have to wear a coat to go to the beach, it is not nice.”

“Okay,” you sassed, sticking your tongue out and making him laugh. “So what do you do then? Why’d you move to Boston?”

“That’s a loaded question,” Rafe noted, “I work for an economics firm here. Mostly I moved for the job opportunity but the distance from my family was an added benefit.”

“Well, I say this from a place of extreme bias, Boston is the best city.”

“It has it’s perks.” He could’ve been talking about a good parking deal but the way he smiled at you when he said it made you feel like he was talking specifically about you.

The date ended with Rafe walking you to the train, his coat over your shoulders because the light jacket that you’d worn had proven not warm enough for the early autumn chill that settled in. You talked about your first-grade class and being nervous for the impending year and he listened, saying that sometimes he felt like he was working with six year olds.

“At least I can curse in front of my co-workers though.” He lamented.

You laughed, “I’ve definitely let my fair share of curse words go...and heard quite a few from kids in my classes.”

“Oh man, I’d fucking lose it if some kid started cursing at me.” Rafe replied.

At the train station you argued for a few minutes over his coat, him insisting that you just hold on to it (“trust me, if I go 24 hours without seeing you again, I’ll be shocked.”), but you told him you had a severe inability to remember to give anything back and likely he’d never see it again, something he doubted, the implication that this would progress far enough that he would be in your apartment eventually there beneath the surface of his words.

When the train pulled in, the coat left in your possession, Rafe pulling it tighter around your shoulders and promising that he would get it back eventually. “I’ll text you.” He said, as the doors closed. And, by the time you got home, there was a text from Rafe waiting for you.

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