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hobipaint · 3 years

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Graffiti and Chalk- two

summary: You thought you knew him. You thought him gone. Kim Taehyung was part of you that you had carefully suppressed, keeping his memories to one box near the wall of your mind. That was your fault, though - empty walls demand for art. And who other than your own neighbourhood vandal?

↳ pairing: ex police student turned vandal! taehyung x officer! female reader

↳ genres: angst, fluff

↳ word count: 9.6K

↳ disclaimers: pg15!, vandalism, police officers, criminal past and heavy discussion of it, mentions of character deaths.

one | two

a/n: FINALLY AFTER A MONTH IT'S HERE! This took me really long to write but I'm pretty satisfied with how it turned out : it's my longest work yet, and I feel like it would be among my best as well hehe. a massive thank you to @kookiestarlight because i swear i completed this in the first place because of tasha, @swcetnight who pointed out exactly where I need to elaborate stuff and places in which I was loosing parts of the plot because did I forget the whole storyline while writing this 🤡, @vaekth because this bby is absolutely amazing. she's supported me throughout the process of writing this, thank you so much!! thank you to @taecup-fics for beta reading this at the last minute and pointing out a bunch of grammatical errors because otherwise this would be a mess to read 😭 to everyone who has waited - I'm so sorry that it came this late, I suddenly had a bunch of exams that were announced and had to focus on those. Hopefully this lives up to your expectations!! Enjoy reading :)

Morning often dawns with a feeling of hope. With wistful sights of sunrise. Flowers open up to the golden haze that thaws the frost of the night. Birds roam the skies that had been but mysterious domains in the dark. People wake up with groans about the impending day, hopeful for it to end soon. You hoped for your mornings to always be similar to this- some constants were needed in places where you had cases as bewildering as missing pumpkin plushies piling up in your office.

Your morning today, though, was much different. Much to your annoyance.

You held the coffee you had brewed for yourself - another espresso, the universe knows you needed it - and handed one to Taehyung just as the cuckoo perching on the clock shrilly announced that it was eight in the morning.

"Do you still have no answers for me, Y/N?" Taehyung looked at you. His eyes were sullen - no signs of the cheekiness that had peeked at you last night. Scattered rays fell across his body, highlighting the sunken cheeks, brooding eyes and tight smiles you could now see better in the daylight.

You sighed- probably for the millionth time this night. "I do not understand your question, Taehyung."

"You remember it. I've asked you thrice since I saw you again, Y/N. Do you not remember anymore? Do you not care for me? Was our idea of us nothing for you?" He looked at you with a myriad of emotions written all over his face- you looked away, not wanting to see them.

Sighing, you gathered your thoughts the best you could. "Like I said, Taehyung." You looked at him- looking at the person you once fell in love with. The feeling you felt today, though, was much different. There was a feeling of running towards him, taking him in your arms and remembering who he was to you all over again, but it was overwhelmed by the confusion you felt - should you prioritize a past that wanted answers, or a future that was unsure? For now, you chose none pushing the time to make that decision further ahead. "We were an 'us' for only a few hours. Until you stood me up."

He rolled his eyes."That wasn't intentional, Y/N."

"And how was I supposed to know that, Taehyung? I thought it was, since you had never told me anything beforehand."

Taehyung's eyebrows bunched together, as if coming to hear the stories that his eyes longed to tell- stories of events that you had never seen and never known. "Would you not hear me out, even once? For the sake of our old love?"

You bristled. "What love, Taehyung?" You got up to stretch your legs out, looking at the patchwork blanket that was stuffed in the corner. You had taken that for your first date with Taehyung, planning to cuddle with him and watch the stars - a date that never happened. "What love? A love where you don't speak to me for weeks, and then vanish for some crime? We were young then, and I got hurt then as it is. There's no need to go over this right now."

"That was not my fault, Y/N. You know that." Taehyung seemingly sunk back into his chair, eyes downcast. "I had said I loved you. Before I ever went out with you."

"Like that matters,” you scoffed, “what's the point in reminiscing promises from an old love?"

"At least, hear me out?" He looked up at you with hope sprinkled in the abyss of his eyes. "I don't want you to forget me."

You turned back to your chair, tearing your eyes away from the blanket that was now a pale blue in the sunlight - a few shades lighter than the cerulean colour it would be in the afternoon. "Not now, Taehyung."

Taehyung sighed, looking at the floor, tension exhaled into the room. He sat silently for a few seconds, the ticking clock announcing each moment clearly to you. "That's fair. It's just.." He looked back at you. "I'm used to thinking of you as the person I loved." He nervously let his eyes pan around the windows, gazing at the sunshine that streamed through the window, before turning back towards your gaze. "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, I'm just really grateful for your presence-"

"Taehyung." You sharply interrupted him. "Two years ago, when your case was reopened for investigation. Who did that?"

"They told me that it was a well wisher in the neighbourhood. Another jailor said it was for good behaviour." He shrugged.

You scoffed aloud, more loudly than you would have liked him to hear.

He frowned, lips drawn in a tight line in annoyance. "Don't believe me? I'll have you know, Y/N, I was among the most well behaved at prison. Absolutely no tantrums. I even ate the salt-less, disgusting food they'd give there. No crying. Nothing. I can show you later on if you want, I think I have a report stuffed somewhere here," He got up, shuffled towards his bag and checked the last zip, hunting for a report you had never heard of.

"It was me."

Taehyung whirled around to face you, unruly hair swinging like the seats of a carousel at a carnival, and raised an eyebrow. "What were you?"

"I was the one who insisted on opening the case for reinvestigation, the case of your stepfather's assault. Went around collecting evidence, searching for people who knew about your family better, getting their voices recorded, finding about the whole deal to frame you and stuff. Nearly got fired." You shrugged, sipping your espresso and wincing- too bitter. "You're welcome, by the way. The coffee is getting cold."

"I don't care about the coffee." He moved the cup aside - nearly spilling the liquid, roughly settling back into the seat he had been occupying for the last few hours. "You were the one who asked for re-opening the case?"

"Just said that."

He slumped back in his seat, and your eyes took in how he spread himself out on the chair, tiredness lacing his figure. "I didn't know that."

"Now you do." You said, sipping your coffee and watching Taehyung do the same.

Taehyung stared blankly at you, and you couldn't fathom what was swirling in those ebony orbs of his. "Why did you do that, Y/N?"

"Honestly," you smile softly at him, "I was expecting a thank you."

"You should have expected questions, Y/N. Why did you help me?" Taehyung's blank expression made way for a confused one, eyebrows furrowing and lips pouting.

"I did what I had to do as a-" You paused here, unsure of what to say. "As a friend, Taehyung, nothing more. I knew you were innocent-"

"How were you so assured?" He pressed on."I could be a complete 180 from the man I met you as. I could be fake. I could be an impostor. I could-"

"You could do a bunch of things, Taehyung." You stared him straight in the eye, trying to keep your emotions at bay. "But you could never tell a lie."

Taehyung scoffed. "You sound like one of the wishy-washy pick-me kind of girls in the movie. No, I don't lie, but I could."

You sighed. As much as you cared for Taehyung, you had never really cared for his argumentative attitude. "I went with the assumption that you were the same person I knew, Taehyung. The one whom I respected and trusted. I acted on that feeling."

"That wasn't trust, Y/N. It was naivety. You were naive to believe me." Taehyung paused, uncertainty lining his forehead as he spoke. "You shouldn't have trusted me."

You rolled your eyes- you couldn't understand why he was so desperate to make sure that you remained aloof from him. What had you done to be treated like that? What had he done to force everyone away from him?

You tried to play off his remaining doubts and frustrations as insecurities he developed while in jail, and moved on."Alright then, you impostor. I was naive to trust you. And even more naive to believe you. Happy? Now shush. I don't want to talk about this." You tried to clear your mind of any doubts you had about Taehyung, but his behaviour, the way he interacted with you - it couldn't help but increase the worry and confusion in your mind.

Taehyung leaned forward to look you in the eye before smiling softly at you - you couldn't understand why. You were going to give him a criminal record, maybe arrest him. You were potentially ruining his life again, and he smiled at you. "If you say so, officer." Taehyung said, settling into the chair - leaving your mind reeling with questions you weren't sure you wanted the answers to.

You opened the laptop again, wearily. "Let's get back to the questions; the sooner we finish this, the better. Where did you source the paint from?"

"You mean the graffiti? And chalk?" You nodded. Taehyung sighed."Terminology, Officer, terminology. Make no errors." He raised a finger to wave at you, as if to say no. You rolled your eyes -it seemed that you were the only one concerned about what would happen to him after this, because Taehyung quite clearly was not. "I bought it with the allowance money that was kept for me in the bank- as much as I hated that man, his cards proved to be useful."

You raised an eyebrow, skeptical. "You didn't steal it."

"No. Took it from my step-father's account. Technically, now mine. Apparently he left everything to his children, and I'm the only one alive that I know of. Maybe he had other children- I wouldn't doubt it for a moment if he had, but that doesn't change my right to his money either."

"Any other members of your family who had been granted access to that account?" You asked, wanting to make sure that there were no loopholes - you didn't want a future possibility of Taehyung being entangled with the wrong side of the law again.

He rolled his eyes, leaning further. "Curious little thing, aren't you? Like I'd told you last night, most of them are dead. Mom had died a few months before I was arrested - thanks to my stepfather being an alcoholic and taking everything out on her. Grandmother already had massive health issues - she passed away after two years of me being in jail - they had let me come out for her funeral."

"My siblings - a brother and sister, if you remember - were taken in by a distant relative, and the last time I spoke to them was three years ago. I'm not allowed to contact them because I might end up being a 'bad influence'," he air quoted the words, laughing mirthlessly. "Guess they won't be too delighted to see me again. You probably know about my stepfather - got drunk and passed out. Permanently. But yeah, that's all. I'm pretty much the sole benefactor from that account."

Hearing how nonchalantly he spoke about it, you were forced to maintain a strong face and be professional. You couldn't possibly think of even wanting to comfort him in any way. "So, you were absolutely not stealing."

"Nope. No. Not at all. Want any further repetitions?"

"That won't be necessary," You said, having typed out the information - tracking his expenditures would also be necessary now, apparently. "Any expenditure you make shall be monitored, now. Be careful."

"Always have been." He chuckled, getting back to spinning the glass on the table. "You know me."

You ignored him. "Your cards will be tracked, and any loose cash will be checked by us. If we feel that there's any room for suspicion, you will have reason to be monitored."

An odd silence filled the room while you tapped away at your laptop, filling in more details about the incident. Taehyung would be having a criminal record again, you thought to yourself. It was the only thought that echoed in your mind. It made you feel uneasy in a way, but you swallowed your unease down. There's a promotion to focus on.

"Taehyung, something has been bugging me since I caught you vandalising." You shifted a little bit, before deciding to spit out the question. "Why did you do it?" You leaned forwards on the table, elbows digging into the wood as you tried to grasp the answers from him.

Taehyung looked you in the eyes, and then looked away. "I don't know."

"You don't know." You raised your eyebrows, leaning back incredulously. "Taehyung, that's not an answer."

"I did it because I wanted to. It was fun. I'd see kids in the morning pointing at my graffiti work and they would like it. There would be people claiming it looked good. I felt acknowledged and I just-" He pleaded, unable to continue without pausing to recollect his calm. "I felt like doing it. After years of having questions raised at me for committing a crime I never did, I finally had people talking about the work I did. Even if it was just chalk drawings."

You exhaled in confusion. The Taehyung you had known - he was never like this. Confident, assured, independent. That was what he seemed to you when you were younger. And now, to see him want to be validated by others who never even cared for him- it felt ridiculous to you. Why was his only way of feeling validated involving something against the law? "Okay, then."

You went through the complaints that had been registered against him, hand resting against your forehead as you asked him the most commonly asked question. "Why the insignia 'V'?"

"V for victory?" He made a 'V' sign with his fingers, "I liked to think that I won against the world by rebelling against its sense of black and white. I saw everyone talk about it, and I felt like the same people who had once pointed fingers at me, blaming me for something I hadn't done, were now pointing fingers at something I had done - I felt victorious. I didn't need to show myself and possibly want more than I had already let myself have - this was enough for me."

You pulled your lips in a tight line, and hummed in response - there were two places that together had put in about twenty complaints, so you had to respond to all of them. You kept reminding yourself that neither did you have the space to feel sorry for him, nor did you have the power to say sorry to him. You simply kept your head turned to the screen, typing in answers to all the complaints.

Taehyung leaned forward after a few seconds. "What punishment do you think I'll get, Officer?"

"If the chief is feeling good, maybe you'll get community service, with a fine," You looked up at him. "Or maybe some time in jail."

"How much time?"

"Maybe a month or two?"

"Oh." Taehyung slumped back into his seat nonchalantly. "Cool then."

How was he this calm? You thought to yourself. He might be going to jail. For a second time.

"Yup." You shut the laptop, finally, after hours of typing information and recording it. Sighing, you lifted the porcelain mug once again to absolutely drain it of coffee, your rather loud gulps echoing in the silence of your office.

Taehyung tapped his fingers on the table- probably some old tune he had learnt before. You remembered that he played the saxophone - from nights of serenading tunes that he had played for you with his beloved instrument. "How long do you think the chief will take to reach here?"

"A few hours, maybe? I'd expect him around ten, to be honest. Nevertheless, let me check." You quickly called the chief on your phone, hearing his ringtone play some old Korean trot song before it was picked up.

"Hello, yes, yes, Y/N. I expected your call." A gravely, rather rough voice responded to you- like it hadn't been used for a few hours. "I shall be reaching the office around eleven. Keep Taehyung with you."

"Yes sir," you said, keeping the phone on your table and turning to Taehyung. "The chief said he'll be here by eleven."

Taehyung nodded in acknowledgement.

"It's nearly eight thirty now." You looked at the cuckoo clock again. "Would you like to freshen up?"

"Where?" Taehyung asked, eyes widening. "Shouldn't I just be at the office?"

"Yeah, you should. My place is right here- the back of this office is where I live, so you'll be fine." You look down at his clothes, grease, paint and metal shrapnel all over them. "Besides, you look like you need a change of clothes."

Taehyung stepped into your house with an air of curiosity, to see how his once classmate was living. His head stooped low to enter through the small door you had, eyes widening in surprise when he found that the hall of your house was larger than he had anticipated.

The house was quaint, a hall with an old couch which doubled as a bed when needed. There was a table in the middle of the room, too low to be a dining table and too high to be a center table. For coffee, maybe? There were maybe five or six magazines scattered haphazardly over it, covering nearly every inch- except for one corner, where Taehyung spotted a shining acrylic blue.

You, however, spotted what page you had left a magazine open at. Squeaking, "I'm sorry!" you ran to shut the booklet close, afraid that Taehyung would spot your love for shirtless men.

Picking up the magazines, you grinned sheepishly at him. "Just a moment! I'll be back, a bit of cleaning to be done, sit right here!" You patted the couch, trying to convince Taehyung.

Taehyung turned away from the pictures he had been observing- was there one of you both? - and nodded, eyes widening in surprise as he saw how you scuttled away to hide the magazines. He looked around again, taking a feel of your house- it seemed like the old you. There was some patchwork embroidery you had left in a corner, atop what seemed to be a showpiece? Taehyung stepped closer to see it in detail, and was amazed at the way you had managed to drag the red thread over and over the pink fabric to make floral designs. It reminded him of the rose he had been trying to complete the previous night, and he grit his teeth. He shouldn't be thinking about that now. That shouldn't be what he does anymore. No more.

You came back, looking quizzically at him. "Take a seat, Taehyung! It's alright."

"Uh, yeah." He shuffled over to the couch again. "Did you make that?"

You looked in the direction his finger pointed to. "Yeah. Tried doing embroidery for stress release purposes."

Taehyung grinned at you. "Stress release?" He asked, bemused.

"Yup." You said while making sure that the magazines were well hidden. "The department I wanted to be in was forensics, you know?" Taehyung nodded, he had been privy to most of your discussions about the advances in forensic technology and analysis - even if he didn't understand anything, he knew your love for it. "Well, they didn't allow me. So the whole 'stress' thing began." You walked back to him, making air quotes as you emphasized on stress. "My mother suggested embroidery would take my mind off it. So, that incomplete piece you see there?" Taehyung nodded, concentrating on every word that left your mouth. "That started a few days ago."

"It looks like it's complete, though- are you really good at it?" Taehyung looked at you again, turning back from the embroidery you were now rising to get.

"Pretty much? It's easy once you get the hang of it."

"Ah." Taehyung said, a dull silence settling into the room for a few moments as Taehyung looked around your room.

"That picture." He pointed, and you turned your head around. The picture he was focusing on was on your mantelpiece, resting happily. The frame had butterflies stuck on its corners, two large and two small. The border was white, now off white, and had pink dots in certain places. It was a picture of fireworks- red, yellow and blue mixing together in a dull sky to breathe life into the picture. And right in the middle, surrounded by this liveliness, were you and Taehyung. Beaming.

Taehyung turned to, finger still pointing at the picture. "That's our picture, right?"

You hummed in affirmation. "That's us, freshman party. We had known each other for a few weeks at this time."

"And I had stopped someone from asking you out, right?" Taehyung reminisced. "That was fun."

You snort. "You had punched him in the face when he asked for my name, Taehyung."

Taehyung smiled. "I didn't want anyone to harm you, Y/N, and he seemed like he would harm you." He spread out his arms and grinned smugly at you. "In a way, I rescued you. That night."

And so many other nights, you wanted to say. For all the time you had known Taehyung, he had been fiercely protective of you - for reasons he never truly told you. You didn't question it either, basking in the feeling of being wanted by someone.

You cleared your throat, hoping to clear your mind as well. "You should go take a shower, Taehyung." Glancing at the clock, you noted the time and motioned towards the washroom. "It's nearly nine. Go take a shower, call for me if you need anything. I'll go get some clothes for you."

Taehyung nodded, rising up slowly to go in the direction you pointed. "Towels are inside," you shouted after him, and he yelled in response to say he understood. In some ways, too many ways, he felt like the Taehyung you once knew.

You went to your room to pick out some clothes, opening your meager collection to salvage something that would fit Taehyung. Your eyes scanned over your uniforms, jumpsuits, jeans, t-shirts and finally landed on the hoodies- probably the largest collection in your wardrobe. Thankfully, you loved large, loose hoodies. You started pulling them out, holding each one up and imagining Taehyung's proportions in them.

The red one, with blue paw prints. "Nah. Too tight."

The black plain one. "That's mine, I'm not sharing that."

The grey ones- nearly three. You skipped over all of them, not understanding how none of these oversized hoodies would seemingly fit Taehyung. He'd gotten humongous, broad shoulders and everything.

You picked out a few more, trying to see whether it would be a fit. None worked.

When you picked up the next one, you could already picture him wearing it. It was the hoodie you had taken from Taehyung during the first year you knew each other. You looked at its loose sleeves, stretchy from you tugging Taehyung behind you with it way back then. The green fabric of the hoodie was slightly pale in a certain spot - you had spilled soda all over him in a fit of anger.

During your forensic chemistry class, the teacher didn't recognise their mistakes in the procedure (they used the wrong test for detecting the sample, and blamed it on you), and you were pretty miffed the whole day. Taehyung had bought sodas for the two of you, having planned to go stargazing later on. And you, in a terrible mood, flipped him off in a way that had the soda spilling over him. You cried, Taehyung laughed, but the hoodie was still stained. You took it with you later on to clean it - but the stubborn stain never left. You were agonized, Taehyung amused, but the hoodie- it was still stained. Taehyung had laughed it off, telling you to keep it with you for as long as you wanted- he could buy a dozen more hoodies to last him till then.

When you left to head home that winter break, you had taken the hoodie with you. You had taken it on your date, crying on its sleeves when you were stood up. And when you came back, Taehyung was suddenly a criminal.

You shook your head to remove the memories of that time, holding the hoodie in your hand and gently caressing its sleeves. So many memories were held in these threads that meshed together to form the fabric of your youth. Good or bad? You didn't want to dwell on that.

"Y/N? Could I get the clothes now?" Taehyung called from the washroom. You picked up a extra large pair of cotton shorts and a hoodie, and passed it to him without really thinking- you'd done it before when he got drunk at college too, having him come over at your place, shower, change, and practically behave like a couple- at least, that's what you had thought of it then.

Get it together, Y/N, why are you thinking about that?

"Thanks!" he shouted again, grasping the clothes with his fingers and whisking them away to the confines of the washroom.

You gripped at your hair and pinched your cheeks. You couldn't keep thinking about the old Taehyung. You didn't know if it was truly him anymore.

"Uh, Y/N?" Taehyung stepped out of the washroom, the previously oversized shorts clinging to his thighs for dear life and the hoodie snugly fitting his figure. "I think it's a bit tight, but I'll make do."

Your eyes widened in horror; Taehyung looked like he was moments away from bursting the shorts. "I'll get you new pants, wait a second. These ones don't fit."

You turned back to your cupboard, looking for the loosest bottoms you could find. "I think the hoodie still fits though, right?"

"Yeah." You heard Taehyung right over your shoulder, scaring you.

"Jeez, when did you get this close to me?" You turned to face him, crossing your arms, looking at his hair which still had droplets sticking to its edges.

"When did you get this far from me, Y/N?" His eyes bore into yours, sweetly intense eyes gazing at you like it was the first time he saw you. "What happened?"

You shrugged, not wanting to answer it. You picked up a loose pair of denim jeans that you had found stuffed away at the back of your closet. Pushing it into his hands, you told him to go change.

Apparently, your instructions fell on deaf ears. "What happened, Y/N? Answer me. Please."

You moved your gaze to his clothes, not wanting to focus on the thoughts that rushed back when you thought of him. What had happened? You moved your hands to your sides, resisting the need to hold him and know him all over again. "The hoodie looks good on you. Would you-"

"So do our hands." He held yours, snugly fitting his palm- your calloused fingers against his calloused ones, heat burning in the sleeping embers of your palm. His eyes gazed at the joint fingertips almost reverently. "They fit well."

"Taehyung, now is not the time-" You begin, cut off by his frantic breathing.

"When is the time, Y/N? When will I get to live? When will I get to feel like a human? When will I be innocent?"

His hand caressed your palm, touching your forearm, your elbow, your shoulder, and your cheek -leaving a burning trail behind him everywhere he touched. You shivered. "Do you know how long I have wanted you, Y/N? Years. Seven years, now. I have loved you for years. I have wanted you for years. I did all sorts of things to remember you while in jail- kept asking for you, kept calling for you. I didn't want to forget you, Y/N. Not you. I couldn't forget you, no."

He pressed your palm to his chest, and you could feel a dull thump echo through the clothes, reverberate in your palms. "That fire, Y/N. My passion in the promises I'd made to you. It never went anywhere. I always loved you. I always will. You can't make me leave again, not again. Please, no."

He held your palm up to his cheeks, not regarding the tears that were streaking your cheeks and his. "You feel me, right? It's me. Taehyung. I am the one you trusted. I'm the same. Trust me again. Please."

You tried to hold back the tears that threatened to slide down your cheeks, not wanting to pain Taehyung anymore. He held your forehead to his, pressing on the back of your head to meet his - upclose, you could see the redness that clouded the shine that his eyes would normally have. You couldn't hold back your tears anymore, nearly whimpering when you saw how broken he was- sirens swimming in the whirlpool of his eyes, singing songs of misery. "You know me, right? Do you know me? Do you recognize me? Kim Taehyung, police cadet. Your friend. Your classmate. You know me, right?" He asked, nose nearly brushing yours. "Do you know me?"He cried, eyes washing over the fire that ignited behind his pupils. You didn't see a vandal, or a criminal, or a friend. You saw a broken man.

"Taehyung, oh, Tae," you cried, putting your hands on his shoulders, watching him slink down to the ground as his body trembled and shivered. You wrapped your arms close around his figure, unable to understand his pain but just wanting it to go away.

You sat like that for a while, coaxing the tears and short whimpers out of him as he held onto your fingers, wanting to remember something he once had: you.

"I always asked for you, you know that?" Taehyung shivered as he spoke, even if the chills of the weather outside barely seeped into your home. "I always loved you. I don't know why they kept me there for so long, Y/N. I didn't do anything wrong. I don't know why I'm made to feel like this…" he trailed away, tears gathering at his chin as they endlessly flowed down his cheeks.

You glanced a nervous eye at the clock, wanting to make sure that you get to the station- no matter what happens. The bubbling of water distracted you from the ticking of the clock, and you turned off the stove. Scouring your cabinets for a chamomile tea bag was hard, but you knew you needed it. Taehyung always seemed to calm down with tea - you had used it multiple times before. Times of which you have multiple memories. Times you wish to forget.

Why did I ever love Taehyung? The question kept echoing in your mind as you leaned on top of the kitchen counter top. Things would have been so much simpler if simply looking at him wasn't so hard. His smile, his behaviour, his tears - it was all but a painful reminder of what you could have been if things had gone different. If only.

You poured the hot water into the mug you had settled on the kitchen top, watching the water bloom into a serene shade of yellow as you dipped the tea bag into it repeatedly. You prepared one mug, then another, hearing the soft declarations Taehyung kept repeating while he was seated.

All you had wanted to study was forensic science, and that was simply for one reason: you didn't want to interact with people.

People are complicated, over emotional beings. and you couldn't help but feel helpless every time you had to encounter a suspect. You would constantly be told by your professors to see them as lawbreakers - but all you tried finding was signs of humanity in them. That even the most vicious killers had scope for reform. That's why you stuck to the subjects you wanted - you were good at finding signs of life, not squashing them. You consistently failed those classes, without any doubt. And today, it seemed like all those classes were laughing at you.

"Here." You handed the mug to Taehyung, who muttered thanks. He rubbed his hands once or twice on the pants you told him to change into and took a sip from the warm tea. You resisted the urge to reach out and wipe the tears that lined his face, and try and wipe the scars of the past that had scarred him so badly - but you couldn't. You were a mere spectator in the game of his life. You couldn't possibly do anything other than hurt him more.

"Thank you. For letting me express all of it. I could finally say everything that I wanted to before I was forbidden from speaking about it again." Taehyung tapped against the mug, fingernails resting on ceramic as the sun slowly headed westward. "I'm sorry that I've been such a burden to you, Y/N. I wonder if I can do anything to reduce the pain and confusion I put you through - I doubt I can." He looked at you carefully, though you couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Thank you."

You let his words echo in the room, preoccupied with your thoughts. It hurt you to see him so broken, and you couldn't help but worry about him.

"Taehyung, I-" You opened your mouth to respond, watching Taehyung pay attention to every move you made - only to be interrupted by your phone loudly ringing.

"Sorry, this must be important." You got up to get your phone, watching Taehyung slump in his seat from the edge of your vision.

"It's the chief," you announced, picking up the phone.

He got straight to the point. "Come to the station, soon. Bring Taehyung with you." he told, his voice laced with a rather sharp edge- a tone that you had recognized in the years you had worked under him. Things were- most probably- not good.

You responded with a simple "yes", mind dwelling on the impending result that Taehyung would get. You felt that it would be unlikely that he would be going to jail- at least, you hoped so.

Turning to Taehyung, you tried to hide the fear and shakiness that lined your voice. "Let's go."

Taehyung sighed, playing with the mug as he rose up. "It's time, isn't it?"

"Good morning, Sir." You greeted the chief as he hurried into the small office, giving Taehyung a glance and then facing you.

"Morning." He gruffly responded, turning to your laptop. "We found an eyewitness for the vandalism, so we are getting them for the interrogation as well."

"Another interrogation? We've already done it, sir, and all the information is recorded here. I doubt it will be necessary-"

"Please, Y/N," He calmly said. "Leave the decision about it being necessary to me."

You stepped back, subconsciously edging closer to Taehyung - a move noticed by the chief as well.

"Y/N," he began, "I need to speak to you. In private. Step outside for a few moments, please."

You nodded, briskly walking towards the doors and yanking them open. There was a warm gust of wind that blew across your face, and you turned to face the chief.

"Y/N," the chief began, before pausing for a moment, "Officer Y/N. I'm going to need you to think clearly now."

"Yes." You set your features as tightly as you could, not wanting to seem distracted in any way.

"Do you have any type of bias in this case, perhaps due to your past relation with him?" he looked quizzically at you, as if trying to decipher an enigma scribbled onto your face.

Your blood chilled, for some reason. Were you having any bias? "No, sir."

The chief hummed - you couldn't make head or tail of his reaction. He kicked at a pebble before continuing. "From the recordings I heard the previous night in the office, and the way you let him come with you to freshen up a bit, one particular thing has struck me: you were trying to find reasons for Taehyung to be justified as a victim, weren't you?"

You gulped before responding. "Yes, sir. I believe the culprit committed vandalism as a coping mechanism to get over the hurt caused over the years."

The chief sighed heavily. "Well then," he said, "I suggest we continue with our investigation, and find a way to make sure the culprit in the matter is stable as well. We can't have repeated cases like these - we have a reputation to uphold for the police as well."

You nodded stiffly. "Yes, sir."

The chief sighed again, glancing at the street. "Our witness should be here soon." He turned to you again. "Funnily enough, she volunteered as a witness with CCTV backup to claim that Taehyung had vandalized her shop too. Apparently she heard you arrest him last night - so we have to hear her out."

The chief turned again to the road, eyes narrowing in hopes of spotting the witness soon. "The investigator whom she contacted has said she is a reliable witness, but I'm going to need to verify her statement nonetheless." He turned back, heading into the office.

You stared at the road that the chief was looking at before - the direction from which the supposedly reliable eyewitness would come, before heading back inside.

Taehyung was still slumped in his seat, fingers tracing drawings all over the pants you had given him. The chief was shuffling around behind the desk, pulling two spare chairs ahead - one for Taehyung, you presumed, and one for the eyewitness - whoever that would be.

"Mr. Kim Taehyung," the chief began, "there has been an eyewitness who has offered their testimony - whether it is to defend you, or further establish evidence of you vandalizing public spaces, I'm not yet aware. We shall be interrogating them - and maybe you, as well, now."

Taehyung rose up from the corner he had settled into, and shuffled into the seat the chief had set for him, wordlessly.

The door opened to reveal an older lady, dressed in a purple shaded hanbok, hair delicately pulled back into a tight bun and eyes peering around the whole office in curiosity. She found the chief, walking closer to the desk where he was arranging the records. "I'm here as the eyewitness..?"She said, looking at both you and the chief.

"Ah, yes. I presume you're Ms. Park?" The chief asked, pulling the chair out for her to settle into it. Under the light that shined across her face, you could make out the wrinkles that lined her skin and the greys in her hair - not that that was relevant to what would happen.

"I saw him vandalize the outside of my store a few days ago," she earnestly began, pulling out pictures that she had taken of the design on her window. "I'm a florist, you see. His designs are clearly inspired by that, aren't they?" She pushed the pictures in front of your vision, and you could see what she meant - the designs of orchids, hibiscus and asters stared back at you, intricately painted onto the glass windows of the florist's shop.

She pulled out more pictures. "There's been similar instances all over the neighbourhood- the other florist had a rose, the school received drawings full of children's stories and fairy tales, and had their walls painted with similar stories. In fact, the restaurants around here even said that their menus were drawn onto the streets, right in front of their doorstep."

The chief looked at the pictures carefully, with you peering at them as well, taking in the detail that Taehyung had while he worked while making each of his works- no, vandalising, you corrected yourself. He raised an eyebrow at the eyewitness, who seemed to shrink into her seat. "What does this bring forward as evidence for or against the culprit? We already know what the crime is, and its details. We just have to determine a punishment- either a hefty fine or jail. Do you have anything that can justify him getting exempted from either?"

Ms. Park looked at you and the chief before turning to Taehyung apologetically, placing a hand on his knee - as if consoling him. "I think that at the end of the day, all he was doing was beautifying the neighbourhood, wasn't he? And most of the residents here don't have a problem with it-" the chief looked at her incredulously- "so please, don't punish him or something. A lot of people appreciate his work in our neighborhood, you know?"

"But we have been receiving complaints about him since the past few days," the chief said. "Why the sudden change in opinion?"

Ms. Park fidgeted with the hem of her hanbok for a few moments, shaking her head nervously. "Some of us shopkeepers were really bothered by it at first, yes, but we also had some customers come over to inquire about the artwork. It looked professional to them. So we came to an ultimatum : we will let this young man paint and draw for us, on our walls, as much as he wants - as long as it's pretty," she emphasized, one hand patting her chest, "we'll pay him to do it."

You held back a sob as you saw Taehyung's eyes glimmer - a ray of hope shining in them.His knee bounced up and down- a habit you knew was something he had had since years - and he smiled softly when Ms. Park squeezed his hand. You felt like things were finally going to go well. The chief exhaled roughly before rubbing his forehead, glancing at Ms. Park, who smiled at him in the hope that he would understand her reasoning.

"The law, honestly, doesn't care about intentions- I don't think I really understand why I should even let him go. Vandalism is a punishable offence, and the perpetrator has been aware of its consequences. Why the sudden feeling to save him?" The chief questioned, eyes steely and tough.

Ms. Park hesitated for a few moments. "I believe he deserves a second chance." She pulled her chair ahead, the metal ends scraping against the tiles, and pleaded once again. "He was arrested for years for something he hadn't even done - and now, might face a few more months in the same place for simply being artistic. I don't think it deserves punishment."

"That's for the law to decide, not you, madam." The chief sternly said. "I suggest you leave such decisions to us."

The room remained tense and quiet for the next few moments, and your eyes were trained on Taehyung. You noticed the quiver in his hands, the way he shrunk into his chair - as if to hide away from whatever the upcoming decision would be.

Ms. Park was the first to interrupt the loud silence. "Oh, come on. Let me just pay for the boy's bail."

The clock chose that moment to loudly announce the next hour: was it eleven? Twelve? You weren't paying attention. You only saw the way Taehyung rose up from his seat - in happiness, you thought - with fists sticking to his sides. "No. I won't accept it."

You felt the chief look with just as much disbelief as you did. Why was he so hellbent on being a perpetrator when he could be free?

Ms. Park laughed. "No. I'm not listening to that whole self righteous thing that you probably have," she swatted the air with her hand, as if to push away any explanations Taehyung could give.

"Look, ma'am. I have the money to get a bail, or even pay the fine. I don't want you to pay for me and then hold it above my head like a massive favour you have done for me." Fire blazed in his eyes as he spoke up, rather indignantly. "I can take care of myself."

"To hell with that attitude," Ms. Park said. "I decided to help you because I didn't want you to suffer once again because of misunderstandings." She pulled Taehyung back to sit on his chair, clasping his hand between her wrinkled ones. "You had to go through so much pain at such a young age - no one deserves that. I was a mere bystander at the time you were arrested, and I regretted it then. I still regret it now."

She sighed before caressing the back of his hand lovingly, thumb gently pressing on the skin- as if to feel the pain those hands had to go through, and you thought you saw a hint of a tear on his cheeks. "So don't question me for 'saving' you, or something - what you did was perfectly fine for me. I love the way my street looks now, and so do the neighbours. All that really remained was the artist's identity- and now that I know it's you, I don't feel any sort of guilt in justifying what you did."

You were right. Taehyung was crying. It wasn't silent tears that rained gently down his cheeks, it was a whole thunderstorm. You saw the chief turn away, from the corner of your vision, but you couldn't bring yourself to do the same. He was biting on his bottom lip to hold back any of the sobs or whimpers that came, head lowering to hide the tears.

Ms. Park simply caressed his hand, over and over, till he calmed down enough to wipe his tears with his free hand. And when he raised his head up, you saw him like a new person. The wound up Taehyung you had met again a few hours ago was slowly vanishing - in his stead, there was a free Taehyung who smiled like the world's burden had been lifted off his shoulders. "Thank you," he murmured.

The chief sighed again. "I still don't understand how it came to this."

"Neither do I," Ms. Park laughed. "But it is what it is. We'll pay the fine."

"I'll do it," Taehyung started, only to be shushed by the elder lady. "I want to do it. Let me do it." She turned again to the chief, the bubbly happiness giving way to seriousness. "You can make sure he pays the fine, right? Withdraw the complaints for us too."

The chief looked at you and nodded, and you got to work - carefully opening the laptop again and making sure that you transferred the report from 'investigation' to 'resolved', and that the complaint was withdrawn.

The chief, meanwhile, made physical records of it, and informed Taehyung of the fine - which, despite his insistence, Ms. Park paid off, whipping out a cheque she had kept ready, somehow. You added the details to his resolved record as the chief dictated them to you, keeping them for future references - which you hoped would only be needed to prove his innocence in any situation.

Nearly twenty minutes of details, questioning, and a written assurance from Taehyung that he would be liable to arrest if he continued illegal activities, it was done. Taehyung was free.

The chief read over the details once again, thoroughly, eyes getting heavier and softer with every document he checked. Once it was all done, filed, and you had stacked the records back in the drawers they were placed in, the chief sagged into the chair, hands clutching the steel arms for support.

"Thank God," he whispered, eyes closed. "You're fine now." He got up shakily, hands wiping at his eyes to erase any traces of the tears that had possibly leaked out. He walked around the table, reaching for Taehyung - as if beyond the lines of that desk, his duties as an officer stopped and those as a teacher resumed. "Don't you dare do that again, Taehyung. Never again." He held his student by the shoulder tightly, gripping him and shaking him a little - like a parent would scold a kid. "Live a good life, please."

Taehyung nodded frantically, eyes still wide in disbelief as he ignored the grubby tear streaks on his face. "I will, sir." He had his hands placed politely in front of him, trembling fingers clutching onto the rough denim fabric of the old, loose jeans you had made him wear.

"Live well," the chief repeated again, thumping Taehyung's shoulder once and then turning around to collect the documents he would need to take with him. He bowed to Ms. Park, who acknowledged him before something at a corner of the small office caught her eye, and turned sharply to you. "Officer Y/N," he began, and you tensed a little bit more. "There was an opening last night in the forensic science department that I got notice of," he said, a smile tugging on the edges of his lips when he saw how your demeanor brightened. "Reach the head office tomorrow in the morning at ten, and I'll give you the details. All the best."

You hastily held back the sudden smile that threatened to split on your face, smartly saluting your senior before he turned around to leave the office. As he opened the door, you felt a burst of warmth all over your body - the heat of the sunshine rushing into the room.

Ms. Park walked from her corner to Taehyung, taking his palm between hers and squeezing. "I'm happy that you're free now, Taehyung." She looked carefully at his face - sternness making way for soft concern, and said, "Live wisely. If you need money, or a job to get you started, come to my shop - it's the one you painted with orchids. You remember it, right?"

Taehyung responded with a rather choked 'yes', nodding his head frantically. He placed his other, trembling hand upon the lady's hands, and solemnly thanked her.

"That's not needed, I told you." She smiled, before patting his cheek. "You deserve to let yourself live, so use this chance well. Work hard." She turned her head to look through the window behind her, groaning a bit at the sight of the brightly burning sun. "I better leave now - it seems that I'll end up getting a sunburn the nearer to twelve it is." She turned back to Taehyung, smiling softly, and patting his cheek. "Turn up at the shop tomorrow morning, we'll figure something out."

"Oh, and officer?" she faced you, pointing in the corner where she was standing a few moments before. "I think my grandson had left his plushie over here a few days ago - it's this one, right?" You followed where her hand was pointing, finding a pumpkin plushie left casually on top of a table. "Sungwoo told me he had lost it some time ago, so I just thought it was this one," she laughed awkwardly.

"I think it is his, he had come yesterday to file a missing complaint for it too," you said, causing Ms. Park to laugh. "He really loves it, doesn't he?"

"He's not slept well since it went missing. Anyways, I better take it with me, if that's all."

"Just a moment, ma'am," you stopped her hastily. "He'd left a note for the plushie too - I believe Peter?"

The elderly woman laughed at her grandson's antics, taking the note you offered her and grinning as she read it. "Yes, yes, Peter. I'll take the note with me. Thank you so much for everything, officer."

Thank you, you wish to say - unable to understand how she volunteered to be an eyewitness and defend the one person you cared so much for. Maybe words wouldn't be enough for you to convey how grateful you were to her, so you simply bowed to the woman.

She took Taehyung's hand again, gently pressing on the back of his hand. "Your mother used to help me out in the shop, you know." Taehyung nodded, and she smiled. "Your hands are like hers. Delicate, yet strong. You can craft beauty with this hand, Taehyung." She squeezed his hand, smiling. "Don't just let that beauty slip away from you."

She patted his hand again, before turning to you and smiling, and heading out. The sunlight bounced off her gray hair to shine on Taehyung as you looked at him - even with a tired expression, he looked more alive than you had seen him in the last few hours.

"I'm free," he said, saying it aloud and letting himself feel the sensation for a few moments.

He turned to you, watching the way your eyes told him that you understood everything you wanted to tell him - even the things he himself didn't understand. "I'm free, Y/N," he repeated, carefully examining his wrists that were once bound with handcuffs - no. There were no restraints there.

His eyes panned around the room. There was no investigator who questioned him about why he simply couldn't admit his crime. No one who made fun of him for seeking comfort in his art - even if it was illegal. "I'm really free," he murmured again.

Taehyung leaped towards you, pulling you close and holding you tight, as if unable to believe that you were there with him: and that he was here with you for as long as he wanted to be. You let your arms circle around his neck, one curling through the hair at his nape and pulling him further into your embrace, and the other spread out over his back - trying to remind yourself that yes, he was here, with you.

"Thank you," you felt him murmur into your shoulder.

"For what?"

"Just being here. With me." He sighed, further tightening the hands that rested around your waist. "After so many unfamiliar faces over the years, seeing yours feels like a reward of sorts for behaving well."

You laughed at him, slapping his back light heartedly. "Don't talk like you did anything wrong all those years ago. It's not good." You let your hands pane across the expanse of his skin, feeling him cling on to you as you tried to calm him down. "I'm happy for you, Tae."

He held you like that, for a few more moments - like you were slowly pulling him back into what could be his new normal life. Waking up every day in a room that doesn't have steel bars as a door. Not having to crash at the old house that had haunted him for years. Not having to hide his face in the fear that someone would taunt him for his past. Actually doing something that made him feel happy, confident, and alive.

"I'm happy too," he murmured into your shoulder. You hummed as he looked beyond your frame to see the streets outside the window - seeing how they were illuminated in daylight. How animatedly people were talking about what their plans for the day were. A kid kept hopping on a chalk drawing of hopscotch he had drawn on the footpath, clutching onto a plushie that oddly seemed like a pumpkin. Someone walked around their stall, setting things up for the day.

You pulled him away from your grip to look at him again - not wanting to forget any part of him in any way. "I still care for you as much as I did all those years ago, you know." You put your hands on his biceps, just as you used to do when you had to knock sense into your friend. "You better not hide anything from me now."

"I have no intentions of," he grinned. "Thank you very much."

You giggled, a feeling you hadn't felt in years fluttering around your stomach like butterflies.

"About us," Taehyung began, holding your hands in his, "You know that I love you, right?" You felt yourself tense up, and probably Taehyung did too, as he squeezed your hands. "I'm not in any hurry. I want to take some time to understand myself and what I want to do before I think of anything with you. But when I'm settled, and I'm someone I can be proud of, I want to come back to you. Be with you forever." He let go of your hands to hold your cheeks, smiling as he saw your big eyes peer at him. "You'll let me, right?"

Your eyes softened. "Of course, Taehyung."

"Tae." He corrected you, coming closer to press a kiss on your forehead.

You smiled when he moved back, glancing down at all of him and laughing. "For beginners, how about we get you clothes to change into?"

He looked down at his clothes, laughing with you. "Let's go, then?"

You nodded at him, pulling him out of the office, and locking it securely before turning to a widely grinning Taehyung. "I have a feeling I'm going to love the daytime. It's just so positive, and nice, don't you think? Really warm all over."

"You're just saying that because you lived like a night owl," you laughed at him, watching his eyes sparkle in the sunshine.

"Yeah, that wasn't the best way to live, was it?" He clicked his tongue and frowned. "Guess I better start living well now. To new beginnings, then, Officer!!" He grinned and poked your forehead.

You watched Taehyung skip over the pebbles that were lined outside the office, walking freely on the streets, feeling the dread that you had let build up in your heart for so long slowly drain out of you. "Wait for me!" You screamed behind him, running to catch up to him. To new beginnings, you thought.

a/n: hopefully, this piece of writing was worth your time 😊 thank you so much for reading graffiti and chalk!! I'd love to hear any feedback you have. Feel free to send it in as a comment, reblog, or as an ask! love, hazel 💞

taglist: @taejinnies (the torture is over bahaha), @xiaokoo, @thedarkwinterrose, @shatzkrinslinzki

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kakaxhi · 3 years

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Dabi | I Need You

Pairing: Dabi x F!Reader Warnings: language, angst (with a happy ending!) Request:

Word Count: 1.6k A/N: first time writing for Dabi! Which is odd considering he's one of my favorites. Anyways! Hope you enjoy! (Also, I couldn't think of anything other then him using his Quirk so excuse my unoriginality)

Tension was thick as Dabi walked back into the League's hideout after a mission gone wrong. He, along with Twice and Toga, went out to recruit some new members for the League when some heroes showed up at the last minute. He ended up with a few cuts on his forehead and on the unburnt skin on his chest, but mostly a bruised ego.

You let out a quiet gasp when you saw him. Even if you knew how well he could fight, you hated seeing your boyfriend in any sort of pain. Rushing over to him, placed a hand on his cheek, checking out his injuries as if they weren't minor.

"[Y/N], I'm fine. Would you stop?"

"I'm just checking on you, Dabi."

Dabi was growing more agitated as the minutes passed. Reputation with the League aside, he was already pissed off from earlier. His chose rose and fell with each deep breath he took.

"[Y/N], I'm not gonna ask again. Drop it, okay?"

Just as you were about to touch his cheek, his fingers tightly wrapped around your wrist. Cold, turquoise eyes met yours, and it honestly scared you. Dabi never acted this way towards you before but you knew how dangerous he could be.

"Dabi, let go."

"No, you're gonna listen to me."

"Please," you pushed at his chest, "you're hurting me."

"Like I care, I just drop so-"

He stopped when you let out a small whimper. Eyes slowly panned down to see his Quirk had activated, leaving small burn marks where his fingertips were. He was thankful they weren't severe, but you'd be in pain for a bit and he hated that he was the cause.

"[Y/N], sweetheart-"

"Get away from me, Dabi."

"Baby, wait," he reached out for you, only stopping when you flinched away from his touch.

"Get away!"

Dabi's hand twitched at his sides, wanting to comfort you so badly. His heart sunk to his stomach when you next spoke, voice cracking as you tried to hold back tears.

"I was just trying to help you, I'm sorry."

Dabi watched with sad eyes as you ran out of the room.

That night, he started to go in your shared room when he thought back to what happened. He was sure you didn't want him around but he at least wanted to try to talk to you. He knocked on the door, only to be greeted with your angered facial expression.

"What do you want, Dabi?"

The way you said his name hurt him. You would say it with so much love but now it was spat with venom. He knew he didn't deserve to be forgiven - whether it be quickly or at all.

"I uh, I wanted to talk, but you don't seem like you want too. Um, can I just get some clean clothes? I'll leave you alone after that."

You opened the door enough to let him in. You stayed silent the entire time he was getting what he needed. You wanted to scream, yell, anything to make him stay. But nothing came out but a strangled cry after he slammed the door as he left.

A little over a week had passed since the incident with Dabi. The two of you have barely spoken and even then the most you've said to him was a very stern 'fuck off'.'

Dabi was set to go on another mission, this one a little more dangerous then recruiting new members. Whether you were pissed at him still or not, he had to talk to you. Making his way to the room, he swiftly knocked on the door.

"[Y/N], open up." His forehead rested against the door, "Please, open the door sweetheart."

You opened the door, and Dabi could see the fresh tear marks on your cheeks.

"What, Dabi?"

He crossed his arms over his chest, saddened when you backed away from his touch.

"I um, I'm leaving on another mission. Things could turn very ugly and I might not make it back. I just wanted to see you before I left. I know you hate me. The shit I did - and what I said to you - all of it was unacceptable. You know I'd never want to hurt you on purpose, but I ended up doing that anyways. I'm an asshole, I know, but if there's a chance I don't come back, I just wanted you to know I'm sorry."

"Dabi, I-"

He shook his head, "You don't have to say anything, [Y/N]. Just tell me if I come back we can talk."

You nodded, "When."

"Huh?"

"When you get back, we'll talk."

Dabi nodded, a small smile forming on his lips. The least he wanted to do was kiss you goodbye, but with the way things were between you right now, it wasn't a good idea. His eyes lingered on your lips before shaking the thoughts from his head. He finally got you speaking to him, he wasn't going to mess up again.

"I'll see you around, babe."

You barely left your room for the next week. Dabi didn't mention what he was doing on this mission, but you couldn't help but be worried for him. How was he? Was he even alive? You didn't want to think of the possibility that he was gone. Even if you were still pissed and hurt, you didn't want the man dead.

The door to your room opened after a light knock. Toga stuck her head in, giving you a little smile. You were happy to see her well, knowing she had gone on this mission with Dabi and Shigaraki.

"Hi! Dabi wants to know if he can come see you."

"Yeah, send him in. I'm glad you guys got back safe."

"Well, we're alive."

She left after that, Dabi coming in a few minutes later. You were relieved to see him mostly okay, a few cuts and bruises and a slight limp but he was okay.

"Aren't you a sight for sore eyes?"

You couldn't help but chuckle at his flirty tone, feeling the heat rush to your cheeks. He tossed his coat aside, moving a pillow out of the way.

"Can I?"

You nodded, making room for him on the bed. He sat besides you, elbows resting on his thighs as he clasped his hands together between his knees.

"There's so many things I wanna say to you, but I don't know where to start."

"You can start with telling me why you we're acting the way you were. I mean, I was only trying to help you. I didn't want to see you hurt, Dabi."

He nodded, "I know, and I'm sorry. Endeavor ended up being with those other heroes that showed up and that put me in an even worse mood. And now it sounds like I'm making excuses for what I did - I'm not - and fuck, I sound like an idiot."

As soon as his father's name left his mouth, everything made sense. While it didn't excuse what he did, you could understand why he was in such a foul mood.

"I don't know of all the things he did to you, Dabi, but I'm sure seeing him wasn't easy. I know how you feel towards him."

Dabi turned towards you, "It doesn't make what I did any better, [Y/N]. Just because those fuckers out there don't know anything about my past doesn't mean I couldn't have said something so you'd understand. God, I'm so fucking sorry."

You weren't sure of what to say at this point, Dabi being vulnerable like this wasn't something he always let you see. Instead of waiting for you to answer, he sat up. He held out a hand towards your sore arm, eyes pleading with your own.

"Can I touch you? Please? Let me see what I did."

You held your arm out towards him. Dabi held your hand against his cheek, turning his head to kiss the spots his fingertips burnt.

"Does it hurt?"

"Not anymore. It wasn't that deep so it healed up quicker."

He shook his head, running his finger gently over your hand, "Is there any way you could ever forgive me? I certainly don't deserve it, but I swear, I'll make it up to however I can if you let me. Please, [Y/N], I love you. I can't lose the one person I give a shit about."

You held his hand in yours, "I love you too, Dabi. Things are just going to take some time to get better."

He nodded, "Understandable."

He got up to leave, only stopping when you placed a hand on his arm. He looked back at you, a sliver of hope filling him as you spoke your next words.

"You can stay, if you want too."

He sat behind you, arms wrapping around you as he whispered how much he loved you - and how thankful he was you still wanted him around.

#dabi #dabi x reader #dabi imagine #my hero academia #my hero academia x reader #my hero academia imagine

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multifandom-girlie · 3 years

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𝐒𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐚 ?

Imagine: He asks you what you'd like for Christmas and you take it up a notch since he asked.

Pairings: Human!Elijah x Human!Reader

Warnings: Smut and a sweet family moment.

A/N: Hey guys! I just wanted to apologise in advance because this ended up being a lot longer than anticipated because I got a bit carried away and added the sweetest little family moment at the end anyway no more spoilers but enjoy!!

I had just unlocked the door to Mine and Elijah's apartment, where I had just got some a sexy Christmas outfit for Elijah's Christmas present, since he said I was enough and that he didn't want anything. I thought I'd give him me.

I was just finishing my hair, when I heard the front door open and close, that meant Elijah was home and just in time. He decided to be nice this Christmas and give Klaus and lift home since he got hammered at Rousseau's for Christmas and why not.

“Beautiful ? I'm back.”

“Okay baby, just wait in the living room. I'll be out in a second.”

“Okay sweetheart.”

I smiled at the terms of endearment, it's a usual thing but I love it so very much. I get Goosebumps and start to blush whenever he says things like 'beautiful' or 'sweetheart'. I looked at myself in the mirror and smiled, I know he's going to love it. He always likes it when I dress up just for him.

I opened the bedroom door and stepped out, before walking towards Elijah and standing in front of his chair that he was sat in.

“Happy Christmas, Handsome.”

He gaped for a second and then closed his mouth regained his usual posture and smirked. His hands reached out to grab the diaphanous fabric of the lingerie I was wearing and muttered under his breath.

“Happy Christmas indeed. Wow....I feel terrible I didn't at least get dressed up for you.”

“No, it's okay. Don't worry about it.”

“No it's not. Tell me what you for christmas.”

“Santa ? Is that you ?”

He chuckled and I kept my act up and sat on his knee whilst his arm wrapped around my waist and his other hand rested on my knee.

“It is indeed. What would you like for Christmas this year ?”

“I've been thinking very hard about this Santa because I really don't want anything except one thing. So I would really appreciate it if you have it too me....”

“It better be a good thing to ask for because that was a hell of a build up...”

“I promise it is....”

“Well then, what would you like ?”

“I would like you to fuck me hard. Please.”

I looked at him lustfully and he returned the gesture. Before pulling both my legs and wrapping them around him, making my heels rest on his back. We were inches apart and very desperate to make good on my wish.

“As you wish, my beautiful.”

We grinned at eachother and kissed eachother roughly, passionately....lustfully. I'd never been so turned on as I was then in my life. He was about the rip the lingerie off of me but luckily I stopped him before he could.

“Wait, I spent too much on this for you to rip it straight away. At least let it get 2 wears in.”

“Fine.”

He left it on instead, luckily for us both, there was no bottom half to it. The lingerie was a just a transculent dress really. He pulled the cups of the dress under my breasts so they could breathe however they were immediately suffocated once again, only this time on the sweet mouth of Elijah Mikaelson. His tounge encircled each nipple, one by one and discharged a quiet moan from me.

I clutched at the nape of his neck and began to rub myself against his hard on immediately. He let out a small groan and tightened the grip he had on my nipple with his mouth, which inspired a slight screech from myself. I ripped the belt off of him and I threw it behind him to an empty space by the tree. I continued to rip his clothes off and one of the articles of clothing hit the tree and disturbed us because a bauble had smashed on the floor. We pulled away and started giggling at eachother and we're also incredibly out of breathe. He slipped his boxers off and I immediately blushed.

Everytime I saw how much I affected him, I blushed and I thought it was such an awkward thing to do. I had expressed how I felt about it before to Elijah but he reassured me that he very much adored it but I still feel that tiniest bit awkward.

I still continued to rest my body on my knees and wrap my lips around his cock, he threw is head back and groaned before he forced himself to pull me off of him and stood up and made me sit down in the chair before kneeling down and lining himself up with my entrance. The action made me bite my lip in anticipation and my lip almost flew out of my mouth as soon as he thrust into me.

My hands gripped the arms of the chair and he consistenly thrusted into me at a slow pace. I stretched around him and his hips slapped against the back of my thighs and he deepened himself further inside of me. It was a tantinisingly slow pace but I knew he was making it last though.

It's not often that we get to just have sex without arranging it. The kids were staying with Rebekah and Marcel for the night and we were going to have a quiet night alone. We often have to plan we have sex though, which makes it less special and it's not even the kids we have to arrange it around...it’s also Klaus. He's incompetent without Elijah with him, I swear he has separation anxiety. I do feel bad for him though since Hayley doesn't like him seeing Hope alone because she's worried he's constantly drunk. He just missed Camille and has just attended the wedding of the love of his life and someone he saw as a brother to him.

Elijah gripped my legs, leaving handprints embroidered in my skins. He pulled out suddenly and flipped me around on the chair. I gripped the back of the chair and my knees sunk into the fabric of the bottom cushion. His large hands stroked my hips tightly before getting down on his own knees and licking and kissing my entrance, earning a few sweet moans to erupt from my throat. Not long after, he sprung back up and stroked my clit with the tip of his cock before suddenly thrusting straight into my entrance which caused a loud moan to echo around us. One of my hands gripped the arm and one gripped the back of the chair, as his pace quickened and he created slapping sounds between our bodies. He kept rocking his hips back and force at a never ending pace. Groans emitting from his body aswell and his hands founding the best grip on my hips. I started to tighten around him and not longer, I came all around him.

He pulled me to stand up after I came and sat down himself before gently pulling my hand and prompting me to sit on his lap. He positioned himself at my entrance as I was still a bit shaky from my release. I sat down on him slowly whilst letting out a long breathy moan. His hands found my hips again and mine gripped his shoulders. I was too overstimulated to keep moving, so he moved my hips up and down on his lap so he could reach his orgasm. He started throbbing, stimulating me more and more until we both released all over eachother, making a mess. His juices were running down my thighs and dripping down his cock, falling onto his stomach. Mine, combining with his...again running down my thighs and drenching his now flaccid cock.

I carefully removed myself off of him, to grab a warm towel to clean us up with. The sheer material of my dress, tickling my legs as I walked. I walked into the bathroom and looked at myself. I knew I wasn't ugly but damn do I look good after sex. Although it never feels like just sex when it's with Elijah, it feels like pure, physical luck. I always feel like the luckiest women in the world...not forgetting the best looked after cause wow is he godly in physical act of love, for lack of more appropriate words. I walked back in after finishing cleaning myself up and handed him a cloth too, before giving him a kiss and going to run a bath.

“Hey Lijah handsome, I'm gonna run a bath do you wanna get in with me in a sec ?”

“I would love too, beautiful.”

He just finished and stopped in the doorway to our bedroom and turned to him.

“Can you b-"

He cut me off.

“Yes, I will get the wine. Give me a second sweetheart.”

I giggled and walked off. He walked into the bathroom, seeing me already in the bath. Surrounded by candles and and the sweet aroma of the Christmas candle burning, that smelt like cinnamon, hot wine, vanilla, ginger, orange,honey and chocolate. Just a warm, inviting smell to relax too on Christmas day. He got in and poured some white wine he had delivered, along with himself.

“Here we go beautiful.”

I grabbed the glass he handed me and we spent the whole bath talking about nice thing like: the kids, new years eve and complimenting eachother. After about 45 minutes, the water started to go cold so we decided to get out and get into some more comfortable clothes and tidy up a bit. We started to relax by sitting on the sofa and throwing a blanket on top of us whilst watching ‘It’s a wonderful life'...and let me tell you it most certainly is. We were just about to go make some hot cocoa when there was a knock on the door, confusing us both. We glanced at eachother in wonder and when I opened the door, Rebekah and the kids were standing there. I smiled at them as they ran in to say hi to their dad. I turned to Rebekah.

“I’m sorry, I know I promised I'd have them for the night but they wouldn't go to sleep unless Marcel read them a book or your and Elijah were there, but Marcel passed out whilst we were watching a film. I really wanted you and Elijah to have a night to yourselves and I really tried bu-”

I chuckled at her and held my hand up.

“Rebekah, it's fine we don't mind. Honestly, I was missing having the kids here anyway and we were just about to make hot cocoa anyway. Calm yourself down and go to sleep, you look exhausted.”

“Thankyou Y/N, I owe you one !”

“No you don't!”

I closed the door, to see the kids sat with their dad watching home alone. I smiled at the view, this is why I'm lucky to have Elijah.

OUTFIT

MASTERLIST

#elijah mikaelson #elijah mikaelson smut #elijah mikealson imagine #elijah x reader #the vampire diaries imagine #tvd imagine #TVD #the originals imagines #the vampire diaries #to imagine #to #imagines #Smut #christmas

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solbabies · 4 years

Note

Hey, could you write a fanfic about the missing scenes after yesterday's clip? A still out of it and not completely well Eliott realizing Lola is 'fine'? I think they both need a convo and honestly, after yesterday's clip I'm worried more about Eliott now that we know that Lola is safe. Don't get me wrong, I'm still worried about her

Ah, yes the missing scenes! I hope I can provide a small sense of closure for you and I hope that this is what you were looking for! Thank you for the request!

AO3- Book_Lover2001

Eliott could feel Lucas’ hand on his back; he could feel his presence next to him like a comforting, soothing force. He could see him, worry and fear creased in the lines of his face all for a girl who he barely knew, all for a situation they couldn’t control. Eliott felt him, saw him, and yet it was as if he wasn’t there. It was as if Eliott was underwater and everything was out of reach, floating away from Lucas the further he sunk.

He was better than he was last weekend, but not entirely. He still felt like he was trapped under a sheet of ice, or like he was living out of his body, or like he just woke up from a long nap-- pick whichever analogy you want to use, but none could truly describe how off he felt.

Daphné had gone up the tower thirty minutes ago and for each minute that passed, Eliott slipped an inch further. Lucas didn’t speak, afraid that he might say the wrong thing and unsure if the moment required arbitrary small talk or the mutterings of hopeful optimism.

“Was this how you felt when I ran off?” Eliott asked, his voice far off in a daze as his eyes never broke from the doorway. He could sense his boyfriend watching him, as the question hung in the air.

“Yes and no,” Lucas finally replied with a soft tone. “I felt, unsure, afraid, worried, a bit lost, but the difference is I knew where you were.”

“I don’t like feeling like this.” Lucas reached up and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, in a loving manor.

“She’ll be okay. She’s strong, like you.” As if Lucas' words triggered the mercy of the universe, the door of the building swung open and Daphné walked out with Lola tucked under her arm. Eliott felt all the air leave his lungs at the sight of his friend safe, but suddenly he didn’t know what to do. Should he hug her? Should he say something? Lucas’ touch ran down Eliott’s arm before dropping entirely, as if giving him permission to leave his side, but Eliott stayed frozen.

Daphné and Lola came up to them, and the latter looked up at Eliott, her eyes full of… everything; apology, embarrassment, pain, fear, confusion, relief and all of it made Eliott’s mouth dry.

“I’m sorry,” she cried quietly, tears falling down her face and immediately Eliott pulled her into a hug. “I’m sorry.”

Lucas held Daphné as all the energy seemed to be drained from her, her face slack and pale from a night none of them would forget anytime soon. He muttered something into her ear, to which she nodded. Lola looked up and over at the two, before lowering her gaze. Lucas reached out and ran his hand over her hair, a gesture that meant more to her than Eliott believed his boyfriend knew.

The cab ride was rigidly silent as they drove back to the Lecomte house, with Lola between Daphné and Eliott as if she might vanish into thin air if they let her go. When they stepped out onto the street in front of the apartment complex, Lola dropped Daphné's hand.

“Do I have to go up right away?” Daphné looked between her sister and Eliott, then a flicker over to Lucas before taking a shaky breath.

“Come on, Daphy,” Lucas spoke calmly, wrapping his arm around her. “Let’s make you some tea.” Lucas locked eyes with Eliott for a moment, a silent agreement between the two; an acknowledgement of trust.

As the two retreated inside, Eliott and Lola took up a spot on the stoop, as Parisians walked the streets unaware of what they had been going through all night.

“I’m--”

“Please, Lola,” Eliott cut her off with a quiet voice. “Don’t apologize.”

“I’ve messed everything up,” she muttered, her fingers laced together in her lap.

“You haven’t,” he disagreed, shaking his head. She looked to him, her lips set in a line, her jaw tight.

“I hurt you and Lucas.” The confession made his stomach sink, an awful churning sensation that made him want to cry. He didn’t know what to say.

“You can’t be blaming yourself for things that I did. I should have known better.”

“But I knew you couldn’t drink and I still made you do it.”

“You didn’t pour beer and vodka down my throat, Lola,” he argued, with restraint. She turned her eyes away, looking out onto the road in front of them.

“I still said things… stupid things that hurt you.”

“Yes, but I believed them when I shouldn’t have,” Eliott sighed, running a hand over his face. “We both made mistakes Lola, but that doesn’t make you a horrible person.”

“Lucas hates me.”

“Lucas doesn’t hate you,” he replied with a huff. “He’s been worried all night, just as much as I have. He’s kept the level head to make sure we didn’t all freak out, and he’s the one who talked to Daphné, helping her think about where you could have been. You care too much about what people think of you.”

“I keep hearing that,” she said drily but not without a small shadow of distant appreciation behind her expression.

“I tried too hard to fix you,” Eliott began slowly. “And it pushed you further.” She didn’t reply. “And if anyone should’ve known that you couldn’t be healed so easily, it should’ve been me.”

“I put too much pressure on you-- you’re not a therapist or my phycologist,” she admitted. “I… I need to be more of a friend.”

“I think we both do,” Eliott nodded. “Less doctor and patient and more ‘friend who needs help sometimes’ and ‘other friend who needs help sometimes’.” She snorted at this, the first moment of levity of the night--well, early morning. In the moment of silence that followed, he stood up in a stretch offering a hand to her. She took it, rising to her feet, and then reached for the door.

“I didn’t mean to drag you down with me,” she promised, opening it.

“And I didn’t mean to go down so willingly.”

…

“You were strong tonight,” Lucas mumbled proudly, running his fingers through Eliott’s hair as the older boy pressed himself to his boyfriend under the blanket.

“I feel sick,” Eliott told him. He could hear Lucas steady heartbeat, the sound calming his own racing thoughts.

“It was a lot to go through,” he agreed, holding him tightly. “I didn’t expect you to walk away unphased.”

“I think I’m slipping.”

“Minute by minute, my love,” Lucas whispered into his hair.

“I was getting better.”

“You can’t think about it like moving backwards,” he explained softly. “You just have to move forwards.”

“This has been an awful year,” Eliott said. Lucas placed a kiss on the top of his head, before resuming to play with strands of his hair.

“Not entirely. For this minute let's just think about all the good things.”

“You start.”

“Okay, Lola’s safe, you’re safe, and I’m safe. There, that’s three things. Your turn.”

“We moved in together.”

“You haven’t burned our kitchen down and we’ve had a surprisingly low number of food poisoning cases.” Eliott laughed at the comment, far from feeling better but now slightly lighter.

“I’m tired,” he spoke with a yawn.

“Go to sleep,” Lucas hummed. “I’ll still be here when you wake up.”

“I love you.”

“Me too,” Lucas replied with a breath. “Just remember that and we'll be perfectly fine.”

#skam france #skam france fanfic #skam france oneshot #skamfrancefixit #elu fanfic #elu #elu skam #lucas x eliott #lucas and eliott #eliott demaury #Lucas Lallemant #lola lecomte #fix it au

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alexhogh7137 · 4 years

Text

The Battle Between Love and Fire-

Ivar the Boneless × Reader

Chapter Seventeen: Fear

Chapter Sixteen

Word Count 2.5k

Warnings: mentions of blood, heavy angst, some fluff

Hvitserk's Pov:

It is dark and very silent. I can hear a rat's squeaks and the pitter patter of their feet on the concrete floors. It is much darker than normal and the atmosphere is heavy and eerie. I stare at the door of my room, just staring. My heart is racing but nothing has happened for my heart to be racing so fast. 'What is wrong with me?' I asked myself. I continue to stare until I hear the front doors shut. 'Who just left?' I get out of bed and rush out of my room, searching for whoever just left.

When I get to the main hall, the front doors are ajar. They are never ajar, especially at night. I rush to the double doors and open them. The snow is falling hard and heavy. It is almost impossible to see, but I try. When I walk further, I can see drag marks. In the snow, there is a huge blood pile in the snow, that stops right by the river banks: where ships import trading items. My heart sped up and I raced back into the house and ran to Y/n and Ivar's room. Ivar is in bed, asleep. But Y/n is nowhere to be found.

"IVAR WAKE UP!"

Ivar "What what?! What is it?!"

"WHERE IS Y/N!?"

Ivar looks beside him, where you sleep on the bed, and notice that you are indeed gone.

Ivar "W-she..she was just here.."

Hvitserk "THE DOORS WERE OPEN IVAR!! THERE IS BLOOD BY THE TRADING PORT!"

Ivar "What?!"

Hvitserk "WHERE IS SHE?!"

My heart feels like it is breaking in my chest. I can't get the thought of all of that blood in the snow, out of my head. What happened to her? Who took her, and why?

Ivar "I...why didn't I wake up?!"

Hvitserk "Does it matter?! She's gone!"

And in that moment I woke up.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I rush to Y/n and Ivar's room and see her sleeping peacefully in bed and Ivar is beside her. I audibly sigh from relief and sit down on the floor because my legs give out from my panic attack. That was the worst vision I have ever witnessed. This cannot become a reality, I will not allow it. I will do whatever it takes to keep Y/n safe. I kept watch as they slept, in case something was about to happen, I would stop whoever was coming through those doors.

…

Y/n "Hvitserk...hey.." I feel her shaking my shoulder slightly to wake me up.

"Huh?"

Y/n "How long have you been laying here?"

"Longer than you'd like.."

Y/n "What happened? Did you sleep in here?"

"I...I don't know exactly what time I came in here. But yes, I fell asleep on the floor. I am sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Y/n "Hvitserk, what is going on-"

Ivar "What is going on?"

"Go back to sleep, brother. I am sorry, I didn't mean to stay in here.."

Ivar "How long have you been in here?"

"I just told Y/n, I don't know exactly. It was a long night for me."

Y/n kneels back down and sits next to me, while Ivar sits up in bed.

Y/n "What happened last night, Hvitserk?"

I let my head fall to the ground as I began to cry. I let my emotions out for the first time since I was a child. I told her that she was taken from Kattegat, and was possibly seriously injured. She looked up at Ivar who was immersed in my story.

Ivar "Was it a vision or a nightmare, Hvitserk?"

"A vision. That is why I came in here to make sure that she wasn't actually gone. When I realized that she was okay, I just sunk to the floor and I must've passed out."

Y/n "Did you see who took me?"

"No. I heard the doors shut. When I got outside, you and the people that took you, were gone."

Ivar "I'll go tell the guard's to be on high alert. You, brother mine, go back to bed. You must be exhausted."

"Ah yes."

Y/n "I'm going to stay with Hvitserk until he falls asleep. I will be out when he does, stay safe please."

Ivar nods in agreement, "Always am, love you sweetheart."

Y/n "I love you."

…

When we got to the bedroom, I was visibly shaking. Sleeping on the cold floor, in the beginning of winter, was not a good call on my part.

Y/n "Hvitserk, you are freezing!"

"I-I know.." she got into bed, and offered her arms to me while I slowly climbed into bed. Once I was in bed, she pulled the fur covers on top of both of our bodies and she rested her body on top of mine. Her body warmth was all that I needed. My nerves were calmed, and my stress and anxiety declined rapidly.

Y/n "Go back to sleep."

"I don't want to anymore. I am afraid that if I fall back asleep, I'll get the same vision."

Y/n "You won't," she looks up at me, "you didn't have me when you fell asleep last night. I am here now. Go back to sleep."

"I-I can't. I don't want to lose you, Y/n."

Y/n "You are not going to lose me. This kingdom is surrounded by vikings and trained warriors and shield maiden's. My dragon's do not sleep at night, they sleep during the day. We are all safe. It is just in your head. I am with your child, your fears are heightened...I am right here."

"I don't know what I would do if I did lose you."

Y/n "So stop thinking that way!" She grabs my hand and places it on her growing belly. "We are fine."

My eyes welt with tears. She is right. It is all just in my head.

Y/n "If you don't stop crying, I am going to cry and that situation is going to be a bloody mess." I chuckle and wipe our tears off of our faces.

"My apologies.."

Y/n "Go to sleep. I'll stay with you until you fall asleep."

"Promise?"

Y/n gives me her pinky finger and we intertwine our fingers together, "I promise."

As she buries her face into my chest, and her hand rests on my chest, I can feel my eyelids getting heavier and heavier. I grab her hand and hold hers in my own and feel myself drift off into a nice slumber.

When I feel her body shift on top of mine, I immediately wake back up. When my eyes open, I can see her slowly trying to get off of me, without trying to wake me.

"Stay…"

Y/n "I didn't mean to wake you-"

"Stay….please…" her eyes form those of puppy-dog eyes. I pull her back into my arms and she relaxes into my arms once more. Today is going to be a struggle for me, mentally. But at least, right now...I have her in my arms and she is safe and my child is safe.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your Pov:

Honestly, when Hvitserk told me that he had a vision of me being taken away from Kattegat..I believed him immediately. I always have had this fear of being taken from here because of my father's rage. He knows that I am much happier here and he must hate it. As soon as I found out that I was carrying a child, my fear of that happening escalated. If something does happen to me, not only does it affect me but it would also affect my unborn child. And when I saw Ivar's face, I knew that he believed it as well.

When I woke up from the nap, I went straight to Ivar who was still instructing his army and guard's.

Ivar "We all need to be on high alert! This is your queen and future princess or prince's lives we are talking about here! If you see anything out of the ordinary, you come to me or Ubbe immediately! If you see ships coming in for trading, you come and tell me immediately. Do not think that this threat is not real! This threat is as real as it can be. We need to keep her and everyone safe, do you all understand me?!"

"Yes!" They all shouted.

Ivar "Now go to your positions!"

When he turns around, he sees me standing there observing. He walks over to me and pulls me into a warm embrace.

Ivar "Are you alright, my sweet?"

"As good as I can be right now."

Ivar "How is he?"

"Asleep. But he is really shaken."

Ivar sighs, "I suppose he is. I can't imagine how he must be feeling, seeing that vision."

"I know. This baby-"

Ivar "Will be safe! Nothing is going to happen to any of us, do you hear me?"

"Yes. Are you okay?"

Ivar "Yes. Our people are aware that something might happen. Every precaution is being made."

"That is good." Ivar looks at me and leans down and kisses my lips gently and lovingly. I smile into the kiss, as does my husband. He pulls back and rests his head on mine.

Ivar "Let's try to enjoy our day, yes?"

"Ah yes. My dragon's, let's go see them. They always cheer us up, yes?"

Ivar "There's my girl."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Ivar's Pov:

Seeing Y/n with her dragon's, warms my heart. I have never seen someone so loving but yet so powerful at the same time. Especially a woman. Y/n has been an absolute blessing, given to me by the gods and the fear of that being taken away from me, tears my heart out of my chest. I watch as she feeds her beloved creatures with a smile on my face. But as soon as I think about my brother's vision, my face turns to sorrow. I can't get the thought of losing my love out of my head. She means too much to me. My late wife, Freydis, was nothing like Y/n. She betrayed me, she lied to me and acted like she loved me but did not. Y/n is kind, loving and generous. She has my heart and I know that I have hers.

"They look playful today!"

Y/n "They need to fly."

"They can, but you aren't leaving Kattegat borders today."

Y/n "They need to fly, Ivar."

"And they can. But I am not letting you out of my sight until we know for certain that there is no threat."

Y/n sighs, "You aren't my father, Ivar! You can't hold me here all because of a vision!"

Ivar's hands turn into fists, "Fine, go! I HOPE THAT THE VISION DOES COME TRUE!"

I watch her eyes fill with tears as she got on top of her dragon's and left out of my sight.

Hvitserk comes running and screaming her name, "WHAT THE HELL WERE YOU THINKING!?"

"She wanted to go. I told her no and she got mad at me. If I didn't let her go, I do not know if I could have kept my hands to myself."

Hvitserk gets in my face, "If you ever hurt her, I'll make sure that you will regret it. Do you understand me, brother? You might be her husband, but she is the mother of my child, and I will not allow you to cause her any harm."

"I wouldn't actually hurt her, Hvitserk. Why do you think so poorly of me, huh?"

Hvitserk "Because YOU KILLED YOUR FIRST WIFE!"

My heart sunk to my feet. He knew? He knew this whole time..I thought that he bought what I told him and Ubbe: she was murdered by an invader of Kattegat.

"I would never-"

Hvitserk "Good. Because believe it or not, you are not the only one that loves Y/n. I love her, Ubbe and Torvi love her, our people love her. And you just let her go!"

"I-I shouldn't have..I was just so angry-"

Hvitserk "Start praying, Ivar. Pray harder than you have ever prayed before. Because that is all we can do now."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Nightfall occurs…

When you return to Kattegat, you are completely exhausted. Your eyes are almost swollen shut from crying all day and your head is pounding. Your dragon's are starving and are also exhausted. When you dismount, you almost fall to your knees from being so weak.

"My queen!" A women yelled.

"THE QUEEN HAS RETURNED!" A man yelled. You sighed because all you wanted to do was go to bed.

"We feared that you may never return!" A women said, taking your hand.

"I will always return. I just needed time is all. Long day, yes?"

"Yes. Let's get you inside, you must be freezing!" She helped you inside and Ivar stands when he sees you. You are honestly hurt by the words that your husband said to you before you left, that you almost don't want to even touch him.

Ivar "There you are! We were all worried sick!"

"Were you, were you really?" Ivar's face went into a scowl.

Ivar "Of course I was. I am sorry for what I said. I shouldn't have said that and I should not have let you go."

"But you did and look, I am back."

Ubbe comes up from behind him, "And thank gods you are!" He runs and picks you up in his arms.

"Hey!"

Torvi "Oh look at her, she is shivering."

"I am alright. I just need a warm bath and I'll be good as new."

Maiden "I will warm it for it, my queen."

"Thank you ma'am." You look all over the place and no sign of Hvitserk, "Where is Hvitserk?"

Ubbe "He has been in his room ever since you left Kattegat."

"I'll go see him. I'll see you all in the morning."

Ivar "I will see you in bed, yes?"

"Yes, of course."

…

When you open up the doors, you see Hvitserk huddled in his bed, curled up into a ball.

"Hvitserk?"

He looks over at you, face all puffy and swollen, "Y/n? Y/N!" He gets out of bed and ran to your side. When he hugs you, all of your anger and anxiety from today went away.

Hvitserk "I thought that something happened! I thought that the vision came true somehow-"

"It didn't. I just needed time away, I'm home now."

Hvitserk "Don't scare me like that ever again."

You chuckle, "I won't, promise. But hey, I need to go take a bath, I am freezing. I am home, I am safe. No need to worry, okay?"

Hvitserk "Okay." He kisses your forehead and he watches you leave for the bathroom in yours and Ivar's chambers.

…

When everyone is asleep, no sound is made but the front double doors closing shut, and Hvitserk hears it. He runs to the front doors and just as he feared, they are ajar.

@hvitserkmarcosource @youbloodymadgenius @ivarsgoddess @a-mess-of-fandoms @jzr201 @ivarzeitgeist @kaitieskidmore1 @herestherealproblem @heavenly1927 @saldelys @10868letsgo @conaionaru

#the battle between love and fire #ivar the god #ivar the boneless #hvitserk lothbrok #hvitserk #ubbe lothbrok #torvi vikings #vikings #alex hogh andersen #marco ilsø #marco ilsoe #jordan patrick smith

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clean-bands-dirty-stories · 4 years

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The Best Things ~ J.V. (Part 6)

A/n: Things boutta get bad so like... I'm sorry. Practically nothing but angst this part won't lie. Side note: I know I don't actually have a lot of Jerome x reader content yet, but I wanted to show the reader's descent into madness before they're officially a thing. I promise you it's coming, and very soon :)

Word Count: 4300+

Playlist

MASTERLIST

Y/n shot to his feet, only for the guards behind him to draw their guns. Alfred held up a hand. "Is he alive?" Y/n demanded. He might have lost his mind just a tad, but Bruce was still one of the very few things Y/n Wayne cared about and no one was about to put that boy in danger.

"Yes," Alfred soothed. "I said he WAS kidnapped. We have him back now." Y/n calmed and Alfred seemed to almost smile, as if seeing the amount Y/n cared was very reassuring. That tracked. "He's been brainwashed or something though, and I've gotten special permission from Commissioner Bullock himself to let you out to help me bring him back. If we play this right, we might even get you released permanently. We can figure this whole thing out. You can come back to us. We can be a family again." Y/n thought about that. Seeing Bruce again. His brother meant everything to him. He cared about Alfred too, honestly. The man had been a good father figure to both of them, and a good friend even when their father was alive. Y/n would have a real home, without killing or chaos. He'd be working for the good guys.

Right?

He thought about that word. Good guys. Cops were supposed to be good guys, weren't they? But he'd gotten locked up in Arkham just for being associated with Jerome, and then gotten the shit kicked out of him when he'd simply been himself. He hadn't killed anyone, or hurt anyone. He'd shown affection to another man and had nearly gotten beat to death for it. He'd leave Arkham, the only place he'd ever really been accepted for being gay. Maybe not by that one guard, but everyone else seemed to not care since no one cared about him at all, except maybe Jerome. Oh god Jerome. Y/n would have to leave him. And Harleen as well. The new friend who really got him and had his back the best she could in a place where her words practically had as much affect as Y/n's did. He had a boyfriend and a potential best friend and room to be free... except that he wasn't free.

Why was this so hard?

"Y/n," Alfred interrupted, eyes wide and pleading. "Bruce needs you."

The last time Alfred had said that, Bruce had just witnessed their parents' murders. Y/n pushed down the boy he used to be that was fighting to resurface, trying to find at least a. Middle between then and now. They were so different... there was suddenly a battle again himself, and he was losing.

Finally, he just shut it all down. Everything else could wait for another time. "When can we leave?" Alfred smiled at his words, but Y/n suddenly had a terrible feeling in his gut. Why did he get the sense that everything was about to get really, really bad again?

"Penguins alive?" Y/n relaxed in relief.

Alfred frowned. "Yeah. Um-" He swallowed. "You've kind of really been involved with all the worst people recently, eh?"

Y/n actually scoffed at that, his lips curling in amusement. "I've met far worse people than Oswald, Alfred." He looked the butler in the face. "You might not like to hear this, but that redhead everyone in town hates so much? He wasn't the one who did this to me." Y/n motioned to his own face. "But the officer who did, did it for no other reason than because I'm gay." He let that settle for a second. Alfred seemed shaken a bit. It seemed to finally be dawning on him just what Y/n had been going through since his parents had died. "Now, enough about me." They'd finally pulled up to the GCPD building. "Let's get inside. Like you said: Bruce needs us."

Y/n had been required to be handcuffed, though he hadn't been put in a straight jacket and had been allowed to change into normal clothes as not to upset Bruce upon seeing him. He was still beat up pretty badly though, and had developed a limp as the adrenaline wore off and as his beating really sunk in. Alfred had to keep him handcuffed as they walked in, and the whole place went quite. It was becoming a habit that Y/n could walk into any room and immediately bring silence with him as he did so. All of Gotham had gotten to the point that they couldn't exactly make an opinion on Y/n Wayne. How did someone like him get born into a family like he had been, and turn out like this?

Gay and insane.

It had been in the newspaper. Someone, somewhere had gotten hold of the news that Y/n Wayne was gay and it had been released everywhere. Y/n had read the article a while ago. It's what had prompted Jerome to finally be more affectionate around other inmates, instead of just at night when they were in their cell together. People might give Y/n shit for being into dudes, but no one was going to mess with Jerome. He'd put his neck out for Y/n... It was becoming clear that few others would do the same. Maybe it was the insanity.

Y/n was brought to a room that was a different color than the walls at Arkham. The color outside had been overwhelming after seeing muted versions from a distance through windows that now, the dull color was kind of refreshing. Inside the room was Bruce, but he looked different. Y/n couldn't imagine the last time his younger brother had worn a turtle neck. His father used to try to get the boys to wear them all the time, but, especially in their youth, the boys had hated them and eventually their father had given up. Bruce hadn't worn one since they were both seven, when he used to just do whatever their dad told him to. And since when did he wear anything other than dark blue or black? Y/n found all his usual jokes about Bruce being a casual emo slip from his mind. He didn't know how to approach this new boy. He didn't know him.

To be fair, Bruce didn't really know him either.

"Hello, brother," Y/n greeted, unsure of how to go about this after all that stood between them.

Bruce narrowed his eyes. "Why are you here?"

Y/n sat down, scooting over as Alfred joined him with a second chair. "Just checking in," Y/n responded slowly. "Alfred told me about what happened. Getting kidnapped. Been there, it's not too fun."

Bruce rolled his eyes."You got kidnapped by a brainless psychopath. I got taken by someone who was trying to help me."

Y/n scoffed. "Help you? Bruce look at you. You're not yourself."

"I'm better," Bruce shot back. Y/n went quiet at that, looking at Alfred with raised eyebrows.

Alfred ignored the look. "Now we can talk all day, but what really matters is that you tell me what you meant when you said someone else was coming to Gotham. I thought that old fellow was the leader of the Council of the Owls, who else would be coming?"

An expression rested on Bruce's face. Far too complacent and calm. The Bruce Y/n was familiar with had the tendency to brood- this Bruce seemed to have no tendencies at all. No cares or anything. It was disturbing to say the least. "I want you both to leave."

"Well that ain't gonna happen, is it mate?" Alfred immediately matched. The butler crossed his arms. "You can't get rid of either of us that easy. Your brother here found time around being locked up to be here for you. Not much is getting us out of here."

"Especially with the city in chaos," Y/n cut in. "Not even your pals in the GCPD will be here to drag us away. Might as well end it now."

When Bruce didn't respond, Alfred leaned forward. "You have to remember who you are."

That seemed to set Bruce off. "I know who I am." Y/n scoffed. "I have a destiny," the younger boy continued, his volume raising as Y/n's mocking noise irritated him.

"Now you listen to me." Alfred had gotten very quiet. "That man that wanted you to detonate that bomb, whatever he promised you- freedom from pain, power - none of it, none of it was real. I want you to remember what is real."

"I know what's real!" Bruce yelled over the end of Alfred's sentence. Y/n tried not to smile. He really did. Bruce glowered as his older brother grinned at him. Mocked him. "You come in here and mock me? You're the crazy one. Don't you dare laugh at me like I'm the one who's lost my mind! I got vengeance for our parents' murder. That's real, and better than running around like an idiot with a lunatic murder!"

"You know NOTHING about lunacy," Y/n interrupted. "I've seen crazy. I've seen grown men beat on teenage boys and call it power. I've seen cops chase bad guys to predictable set ups and act like it wasn't the most obvious thing in the world. I've seen so called heroes save to be said innocent people, and then those evil little shits turn on those same heroes the first chance they get. I've seen love get ignored and then twisted. I've seen people laugh at pain and enjoy the suffering of others and then call themselves sane because that person who was dying was a bad guy, so who cares, right? I've seen people define good and bad like it's a dictionary entry and then immediately break the rules they lay down and still try to pass off as the victim of the story. THAT was real Bruce." Alfred put a hand on Y/n's shoulder, and it was only then when he realized he was crying. "I've seen stories about how evil and corrupt men are and how much women are victims, and then looked at Gotham and seen women in charge while I, a child, was raped by a woman again and again who was only using me for power." He cleared his throat. "Not to say that other people don't suffer, I just mean that everything is a grey area. What's real is bullshit and what's fake is seemingly the most honest option of those presented. Not everything is as clear as it pretends to be, Bruce. I'm supposed to be the crazy one. I was supposed to be the one who failed. I was supposed to be the screw up, but we're both in handcuffs and you were the one who was trying to ruin the lives of thousands of people just minding their own business. What was my crime, huh? Trying to be happy? Trying to be true to myself?" Y/n scoffed. "If only mom and dad could see you now."

"YOU SHUT UP!" Bruce screeched.

"Both of you calm down," Alfred snapped. "I was there when your parents had both of you. I took care of your mum and was there as you grew up. You used to be inseparable. No matter what anyone else did or said or thought, the Wayne brothers always had each others' backs. Good and bad is clear. Everyone is capable of it. Everyone does it. No one is innocent of evil, even in small amounts. Both of you have been idiots." He took a breath. "But you're also both my idiots." He looked between the two boys. "You're both my boys, even if I haven't been there for both of you." He looked at Y/n as he said that. "You want to talk about what's real? What's good?" He looked at bruce. "What's real is when you were sick as a kid, and your mum used to sit up with you every night and read to you when you fell asleep. That's real. Or when you were seven and you took that rowboat out and you got lost in that storm. Me and your dad were out, shouting and screaming, losing our minds, and when your dad found you, how he cried. That's real." He looked at Y/n. "When you were twelve and you came to your parents in tears because you couldn't understand why all the girls your age were talking about kissing you and you couldn't stop thinking about kissing the other boys. Your mum calmed you down and your dad told me that no matter what, they'd love you and you thought I didn't know but I did- all this time, I knew." Y/n felt his chest tighten. He felt terrible. "That was good, Y/n." Alfred gripping Y/n's shoulder. "When everyone came to your dad talking bad about you and they thought he'd laugh along, but he put an end to it immediately because you were still his son and he loved you. He was proud of you. When the news people came after you for secrets and they were nosey and pushy. When they crowded and stalked you because they'd caught wind that you had a dark secret and everyone wanted to know what the oldest Wayne son failure was hiding, and your dad nearly lost his mind on all of them, if your mum hadn't stepped in and stopped it cordially. THAT. Was. Good." Alfred returned to looking at Bruce, keeping his hand on Y/n's shoulder. "Your parents died in that alley four years ago, and maybe that man took away the pain of that night." This time he looked between the two boys. "Life has been hard since then, but there is no life, no love, without pain." He squeezed Y/n's shoulder and when the boy nodded, he returned his attention to Bruce. Bruce was the main focus right now, but Y/n had gotten the message. "He could not take away the love that your mum and dad gave you, that you still have in you- that you still have-" his voice broke as he reached over, pressing his hand against Bruce's chest, right over where his heart would be. "Right here." His hand finally dropped after a pause as he continued, "The same love I have for you. For both of you." His face flecked with. "I love you, Maser Bruce. Master Y/n. I would do anything for you. I would die for you. You must-" he cut off, focusing on Bruce. Y/n kept thinking Alfred was done focusing on him, but then Alfred would look at him again, and he hadn't felt so cared for or looked after since his parents had died. It all felt silly now... "You have to find that love again."

Every word hit home. Alfred was speaking to Bruce, but it was becoming more and more obvious that he was talking to Y/n too. Y/n reached over, his hand resting over Bruce's. "We both have to," he whispered softly. "You don't have to do it alone. I know it's been hard and chaotic, but I'm still your brother, Bruce. You're still my brother. And no matter what, you always have me."

Alfred leaned forward. "Come back to us, Master Bruce." There was a commotion outside and Alfred sighed before telling Y/n, "I'll be right back," and then leaving.

Bruce looked to his brother. "Did you mean what you said? I can depend on you?" Y/n nodded immediately. "Then get me out of here." Y/n went to argue but Bruce interrupted. "You can come with me and make sure I'm safe. But I HAVE to do this. I need to finish it. I need to see it through. I need to know if this really is my destiny. I need to understand-" he cut off, choked with emotion. But Y/n knew what he meant. The same thing that had driven him to follow Jerome Valeska of all people. That had gotten him to follow Penguin and ditch his family to begin with. There are just some things you have to do. So Y/n looked around, found a pen, and Bruce pick the locks on both of their cuffs before they booked it, side by side and headed for... something. Bruce hadn't cued Y/n into the plan this far.

In all honesty, it was just nice being by Bruce's side again.

They made their way through the city streets of Gotham at night until they got to a red door with the word "Yuyan" on the front. Bruce went in. Y/n followed. Inside was the statue of what looked like some kind of demon. There was a lot going on. Bruce didn't hesitate- he stepped up and began analyzing it. Y/n was still taking it in when he pulled something and the wall opened up, revealing a hidden passage. The brothers went inside, Bruce having to take Y/n's hand to get the older boy to follow him now.

The two walked down a staircase and through a tunnel. It seemed eery. Weirdly light and far too silent and empty. When people appeared, Y/n regretted his lament about there not being anyone around- they immediately attacked him. "No." Bruce said firmly. They stopped. Y/n looked at his brother with shock. Bruce's expression remained calm. Y/n's would be attackers simply pointed Bruce onward, making way for him to follow their direction.

Y/n hadn't been this scared in a long time. Surely he wasn't in danger. This was Bruce he was talking about. Golden Boy Bruce Wayne who used to cry when they were really little and Y/n would step on a bug. Who shut down after their parents died because he loved them so much that seeing their murder changed him... except that his heart of gold kept him from corrupting like Y/n had. He was driven by justice and refused to let up until evil was destroyed. Bruce Wayne was a hero.

And yet, when Y/n looked at the back of Bruce's head now, he didn't see his younger brother. He saw a man in a child's body. He saw a straight back that was well trained and perfectly postured. He saw clothes Bruce would never wear and a silence Bruce would prefer not to bear, especially with Y/n around to talk his ear off. He saw Bruce leading them down a tunnel of doom, being completely docile after someone tried to kill him. After he almost poisoned maybe hundreds of people with just the press of a button. After, of all people, he had chosen some random old dude weirdo over Alfred and almost killed one of two family members he still had left.

Very suddenly, Y/n realized that he hadn't realized how bad Bruce was. How dumb it was to follow after him right now. And he was more scared than he'd ever been. More scared than even when he looked in the face of a cold blooded, sadistic murderer who had completely lost his mind and only saw an endless world of things to fascinate him. More scared when the doors would close and all he saw was red lips curled in a devious smile as the one person he trusted the most took advantage of him. More scared than when that stupid guard had locked him in that room and he had really thought he was going to get beaten to death for being gay.

Bruce pushed two double doors open with each hand. They creaked as they opened slowly, revealing a room with a green pool in the middle. Bruce leaned over and Y/n stepped forward, reaching out to stop him. Then he felt a pain at the back of his head and everything went black.

Y/n woke up alone.

It was dark, but it only took him a few seconds to remember everything and realize where he was. He looked around- the pool was still there. Otherwise, the room was empty. Y/n groaned as he sat up, looking around again for signs of those people that had attacked him earlier. When he still saw no one, he stood and began walking back the way he'd come. It was even scarier now that he was alone. "Bruce?" He whispered into the empty hallway. He jumped at every noise, resulting in him eventually misstepping and tripping. He would have face planted if his scrambling abilities hadn't improved recently due to all the running away from cops and other crazies alike in his days by Oswald's side. Thankfully he didn't fall because, as he was noticing while trying to get his feet under him, there was blood on the floor.

Oh my god there was blood on the floor.

He sucked in a breath, beginning to look around again. "BRUCE?" His heart picked up and he felt the back of his eyes burning with tears. "Bru-" his shoulder hit a wall and he screamed. Shaking his head to calm himself, he pressed his lips together and retraced his path that he'd taken with Bruce to get in here. Eventually it lead him outside. Weirdly enough, the wall was open again. Which meant that he didn't have to figure out how this side of the trick worked... but it also meant he wasn't alone.

The night air outside was cool, the sun rising in the distance. He looked down at himself- he was filthy. He took a second to think. To remember. The last thing that had been clear to him was that he was absolutely terrified of Bruce.

That's right. Bruce wasn't... right anymore. Well, that meant he couldn't go home. He also couldn't just walk back into Arkham. They might think he'd done something if he came back, dirty and hysterical, without Alfred. So he went to the GCPD department instead, because where the else was he going to go?

He was inside for maybe a second before he saw a familiar face. His eyes went wide and his heart nearly stopped- in his vulnerable state, of course it would be the guard that almost beat him to death that would be there to greet him. The man smirked, tilting his head. "There you are. We were wondering when you'd find your way back." He approached the teenage boy, putting a hand on his shoulder.

Someone else approached. Y/n almost melted in relief to see Harvey Bullock. "What's going on here?" His eyes laded on Y/n. "What... I thought you were in Arkham."

"He was," the officer responded. Y/n had already forgotten his name from when Harleen had said it before. "Alfred Pennyworth came and got him out for the day. Needed him for some Wayne business. I'll be taking him back now."

Harvey looked confused by that. "Why? We were already debating letting him go. Now he's out, there's no reason to immediately put him back in." The guard seemed horrified by that idea. Harvey put his hands on his waist. "He didn't do anything wrong."

"Do you know what this boy is?" Y/n's heart sunk. "He's a homosexual."

Harvey's eyebrows rose. At first Y/n thought it was in surprise, but then he said, "So what?"

The guard looked stunned. "He needs help, Bullock. He was canoodling with Jerome Valeska in Arkham. In public. Like there's nothing wrong with that."

Now Harvey was surprised. Y/n swallowed his emotions and met the older cop's gaze evenly, sticking his chin up. Harvey sighed. Y/n didn't even have to say anything- the old man just seemed to... immediately understand. "He turned to someone who accepted him in a world of people who hate him." It was Y/n's turn to be surprised. "That's not punishable."

The guard scoffed. "Son, have you ever killed anyone before?" Y/n looked away. He thought about the first time he'd ever killed someone, and then thought about all the many times after that he'd done it himself or helped. Another experience he'd picked up while hanging with Oswald. "The thing won't even deny it. And he's proud to be with that redheaded psycho. There's something wrong with him, Commissioner. He needs to be detained and get some help."

Harvey and Y/n both knew that was not the reason the guard wanted Y/n back in Arkham. The two men looked at each other, both put down at the fact that they couldn't stop anything happening. Maybe Y/n should have lied. Maybe he should be fighting. Unfortunately, he'd just lost his little brother and he had no idea what kind of shape Alfred was in. Currently, he had to assume that Alfred was either dead or would be soon, if Bruce could help it.

The guard tugged Y/n's arm and they were headed back outside toward his car. "Thought you were gonna get away from me that easily, did you?" The guard growled under his breath, leaning close to Y/n so the Wayne boy would be the only one to hear. "I finally have a reason to get at you, you little shit. Things are only gonna get worse for you from here. Now I can say you've killed people. No one will stop me from knocking you now."

Y/n looked at the city one more time before he was shoved into the car. The guard pulled out a pair of cuffs and put him in them. He looked at the city the whole time. The entire ride, he took in every inch of it. Every dirty corner. Every dirty human. Every inch of the buildings- no matter how close, far, tall or small they were. If he could see it, he took it in as much as he could. Above everything else, he took in the sunrise.

Maybe it was the fact that Y/n might never see it again outside of Arkham, but it wasn't overwhelming this time.

It was beautiful.

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dakotablackwood · 5 years

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Silence [Pt. 2]

Part 1, Part 2

Warnings: Unsympathetic Virgil, deception, manipulation, physical pain, bottled feelings, disguised violent threat, murder mention/joke, cursing, insults, hatred, Phonophobia [Fear of loud noises]

Ships: Loceit??? Who knows??? DLMP, other ships TBD

Prologue: It all got to be too much for Deceit sometimes. He's a flawed side, defective, useless. He isn't supposed to have these fears. He isn't supposed to flinch every time he drops something. He isn't supposed to have a panic attack when the dryer at a fast food restaurant is just a little bit too loud. It only gets worse when Virgil decides to mess with him. He thought Virgil would get better after being with the light sides. He didn't think Virgil would do anything to harm him. He couldn't hate Deceit so much that he'd hurt him, right?

--------------------

When he woke up, he almost thought it was all a dream. Well, he hoped it was. As distinct hushed whispers came into focus, he knew it wasn't. If that wasn't enough, the texture of his bed felt….wrong. He didn't want to move, he didn't want to open his eyes, he didn't want to do anything to give the impression he was awake. It made him sick just thinking about the look on their faces. He'd honestly rather spontaneously combust than have to deal with their hatred. They probably thought it was a joke, some tactic to gain their trust. That would be fine, at least they would leave it as that. Maybe it would be better that way.

Suddenly, a specific comment caught his attention. It was quiet, and he seemed to be the only one who heard it.

"You always screw things up, don't you?"

Deceit's eyes flew open, and he was sitting up in just a few seconds. He regretted it immediately. Not only had he caught the others' attention, but he was now dizzy with how fast he'd gotten up. His mind blurred and his vision gave out. His body started to sway while he held his head, waiting for it all to stop.

A hand settled firmly on his upper arm. He couldn't comprehend it until a few seconds later, but when he did, he noticed that it hurt. It burned, really. As the dizziness subsided, he was able to look up and see Virgil, Logan, Patton, and Roman all standing over him. All he could focus on, though, was Virgil's hand over his arm, barely even touching him.

Deceit had fallen back, landing on his pillow at some point in his dizziness. He hadn't felt it at all, which was weird, but then again he was really dizzy. Normally, he would've cared about the fact that he wasn't in his own room. He would've been appreciative of the attention he was getting, if it weren't for the searing pain of Virgil's hand on his arm. He was so confused. 'How is he doing that? What did I do? What is happening?'

The pain made him bite his tongue, flinching and moving around uncomfortably.

He opened his mouth to speak, and as soon as he did, Virgil pulled his hand from his arm. Deceit gloved hand went to rub his skin where the side had touched him, "Why- how did you do that?"

Virgil mocked confusion, as if he wasn't speaking to the master of deception, "What do you mean, snake face? Are you already trying to mess with us?" He glared, but to Deceit, it meant 'shut up, no one will believe you'.

Deceit just rolled his eyes, not wanting to play these games. All he wanted was to know why he wasn't in his room anymore and how the hell he got here. He looked at the others, scanning each of their faces. Patton's was concerned, ever loving and caring. Roman's expression displayed uncertainty. Logan's was calm, but his eyes. His eyes showed concern. Genuine concern.

One of the things Deceit can do is see true emotion through people's eyes. He was able to see how someone truly felt, if they showed it or not.

Even so, he thought even the others could see Logan's emotions if they tried. They were always so strong, but somehow, the others never saw them. They never saw how truly emotional Logan is. It seemed so obvious to Deceit, but the other seemed to have his emotions so covered up that the others just didn't quite notice it. It was so confusing to Deceit. How did they not see it?! He was upset and almost crying, how did no one notice?

It always baffled him how the others could be so smart, so attached to each other, and yet they couldn't notice things like Logan's body stiffening (hurt, upset, angry) or him going silent (ignored, surprised). Deceit noticed these things, yes, but Logan's eyes broke every little external wall he put up for himself. He could have a cold hard expression, but be incredibly hurt or excited.

He quickly snapped back to life when he heard Patton's voice suddenly, "Deceit, are you….are you okay? Yesterday was rough for you, I imagine." He chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Deceit's eyes were still just slightly red from crying, and he could feel the dried tears on his face. He remembered every detail of last night and flinched, "Perfectly fine, Patton. I've been fine, last night was nothing. It was simply a burst of emotion that I obviously couldn't handle. Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll take my leave before you all start hating me again. I'd rather not be here for that part." As he stood, he finally took a look at the room he was in. Obviously Patton's, with blue walls decorated with rainbows, kittens, dogs, stars, and every other happy thing you can think of. There was a wall of pictures and memories from Thomas' past. They showcased big accomplishments in their host's life, like when Thomas got an award and when he got the lead role in a school play.

The room was bright and happy, everything in it was something from Thomas' past that held value.

Patton's room and Deceit's were very very different in that aspect, despite having the same layout.

Speaking of Patton, the side frowned when he went to leave, "Wait, ki- Deceit!"

At the mention of his 'name', the deceptive side turned to look at the bubbly dad. It didn't hurt that he didn't call him 'kiddo', it didn't, it didn't, it didn't, he wasn't a kid why would it hurt- "Yes, oh so loveable Morality?"

Patton crossed his arms, "Please tell us why you were so upset. We've never seen you cry before, we're just concerned."

He didn't know what bothered him so much about that little statement, but Deceit just hissed in annoyance, "Concerned? Really? Don't even try with that. I don't do anything that important, now go do your job and stop lying to a liar. Honestly Morality, you could've called me stupid to my face and it would've been less insulting." He could taste the lie on his tongue. It was a nice, rich honey-like substance. If it wasn't for the blatant, hurtful lie he would've appreciated the taste. He craves it, and this would've been a victory if it weren't for the pain that came with it.

"Well, I care king cobra!" Roman said defensively, "I mean, come on! We're not part of a mean person, we can't completely hate you! Have a little faith in us man, we're not that terrible." The prince huffed, looking to the side like an insulted teenager.

"Yeah, we're not going to like….kill you or anything." Virgil 'agreed', and somehow, no one noticed the sarcasm except Deceit.

This just made the snake faced side uncomfortable. The way the other's eyes darkened, how Virgil's smirk looked sinister to only him. It all just made him want to throw up.

"Right, well, I'm going to be in my room. While I'm there, try to keep it down for me." Deceit asked casually before sinking out. He didn't feel comfortable anymore, and he didn't need to deal with this right now. As soon as he made it to his room, he groaned and went to go look for his hat.

Now, any other side/person would've thought Deceit's request probably had nothing to do with the reason he was distressed the previous night. However, that little statement had confirmed everything that Logan had hypothesized already. He knew why he was crying, and he knew exactly what that meant. Was he going to tell the others? No.

Now you might be thinking "why not?"

Because, put simply, the others had had enough of his explanations, lectures, and definitions. He didn't think they would understand or care about what it meant either. They would lose interest, ignore him, dismiss his information as invalid.

He really did care about Deceit. He knows more about Deceit than Deceit even knows he knows about. He knows Deceit knows more about him, too. Does he care? No. He actually quite likes how someone can see past his hard exterior.

Yes, it was hard to be the logical side. It would be harder to do his job, though, if the others hated him. Which was why he felt kind of bad for Deceit in a way. While filming SvS, he had to step in and stop the other. Not because he wanted to be rude- despite how rude it might've came off as to Deceit- but because he knew the others wouldn't listen. He knew the snake side wasn't going to get anywhere, and it was better if it was stopped before the deceptive side felt just as bad as he did when he himself was ignored. It wasn't worth it to keep going, because it would only hurt worse the longer it went on.

He made a mental note to keep the noise level to a minimum.

After a few minutes of silence, he decided enough was enough and that they were wasting time, "We all need to resume our individual work elsewhere. We are not accomplishing anything standing here except for 'effectively' wasting valuable time. If we are done here, we should disperse, as I believe we cannot properly do our part in helping Thomas without moving from this specific spot. I will leave now, and I expect everyone else, excluding Patton, to do the same. This is Patton's room, obviously, so technically he's where he needs to be. Apart from him-" He was cut off by a groan from Roman.

"Alright, alright we get it! We're leaving!" Roman said before sinking out with raised hands.

Virgil just shrugged, leaving silently with a peace sign.

After the last of the two left, Logan sighed and finally sunk out.

Back in Deceit's room, panic was starting to rise as he searched everywhere for his hat. He just couldn't find it, and he didn't have another one. He was hyperventilating as he checked the floor for the twelfth time, sweaty with fear. It had to be there. It HAD to be there. As he searched, he felt more and more vulnerable and defenseless without his hat. He was searching for hours, having destroyed his room in the process. He was crying again by the end of it, on his knees in the middle of the room. His hair was messed up, his makeup even more messed up than before. He wanted his hat so badly, it was childish. It was so so childish but he NEEDED it. It was his hat for god sake. It was one of the only things that gave him comfort, the only thing beside it being his gloves. He felt stupid, but he also felt so….exposed without that damn hat. Burn anything in his room, sure, he didn't care. The only things he ever cared about was his hat and gloves, so be it if everything else is gone. He was so annoyed, upset, anxious. All he wanted was his hat, was that too much to ask?

Back in Virgil's room, tucked discreetly into a drawer and covered by clothes, was a little black hat. Inside, hidden from the eyes of everyone, was a little embroidery of a two headed snake.

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