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more-cardigan-than-woman · 6 months

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Brother & Bestie: The Roy Problem

Summary: Still keeping a secret from your bestie your new fuck buddie tries to solve the problem.

1.9k

Dick Grayson x Reader

Warnings: SMUT 18+, edging, fingering, piv, blackmail.

The First Time

"Dick, you still haven't told me what you're going to do about Roy. What if he tells Jay? We're fucked," you start to pace around your kitchen, "we'll I'm fucked. Not like he's going to kill his brother." You sigh, planting your head on the kitchen counter.

"I'm handling it. Don't stress yourself over it," he leans down, kissing into your hair, "it'll be fine," his hands wrap around your middle pulling you up to hug you from behind, "I gotta go. Stay here and try not to spiral okay."

"I'll try, but I make zero promises."

"Good girl," he steps towards the door checking his phone, but just as he's about to leave he turns to face you, "and Pet, if he was to find out from Roy. I'd be in way more trouble than you." He shuts the door leaving you to reel in that statement until he gets back.

"Mr Harper, take a seat." Dick smirks at the younger man.

"What is this Grayson? You trying to intimidate me?" Roy tries to sound confident, but it comes across as the opposite.

"Nope, just wanted to talk."

"About what?"

"Exactly. Nothing. I just wanted to show you something." He opens his laptop, a file sitting on it labeled Harper's Harpies. "Thought you might want to see this."

"What is this? Blackmail? Didn’t think you’d sink this low."

"No, I just wanted to remind you that you did things that maybe you weren't proud of and that maybe you'd like Little Wing not to know about."

"You're not proud of her? Should be, you know Jay told me about the talk you guys had."

"Which talk was that?"

"When he asked you not to fuck her. To keep that fuckboy dick of yours in your pants. Don't know why he hasn't noticed yet, how long has it been going on?"

"None of your business."

"So you are fucking her."

"Look Roy," he leans down on the table, "I don't care if Jay knows. But she does, so I am asking you not to tell him." He changes tactics, knowing how the outlaws feel about you, "I know you guys have your banter, but you wouldn't do this to her would you?"

"Using her to save your skin? Not very classy Grayson."

"Blackmail didn't work, so yeah. She is though, she thinks he'll kill her."

"Kill you more like."

"You think I don't know that?” he runs his hands through his dark hair, “Please just keep it to yourself."

"Do you love her?"

"What a question." He sits down, resting his head in his hands. Dick sighs, does he love you? He could, he sees it when he goes to sleep at night. But what is this to you? He doesn't know.

"You're scared, I get it." Roy stands, "We’ve been friends a while and I love you, man. I won’t tell him, but you should. Keeping this going in secret isn’t good for anyone. Just promise me you’ll delete this and think long and hard about what you’re going to do and we're even."

"Didn’t think you cared about Jay seeing it?”

“I don’t, but I still don’t want it floating around.”

“Thank you." Dick clicks delete on the file, then looks up from his hands to see the pitying look on Roy's face as he opens the front door.

"I’m not doing it for you.” he pauses one foot already out of the door, “And Grayson,"

"Yeah."

"If you hurt her, even slightly as badly as Asami did. You will get twice the punishment," He slams the door and leaves Dick to dwell on his feelings.

"What happened? What did he say? Is he going to tell him?" You swarm Dick with questions as he comes through your door.

"Told ya I'd sort it, but Pet-" he's cut off when you jump into his arms, yours wrapping around his neck as your legs hold you close to him.

"Thank you, thank you," you liter his face with kisses. His hands sink into your ass grinding you down onto his cock.

"We should talk, I need to"

"Later, please. Please Dick."

"Okay Pet, later." His fingers slip under your dress, pulling your panties to the side, "you need me now don't you?"

"Yes, right now."

"So needy for me," he pushes your back into the wall, his fingers flicking through your pussy stopping to rub at your clit, "so desperate for my touch," his face pushes into your neck, licking and sucking at the soft flesh, "my pretty little pet. You've been such a good girl for me. You deserve a reward."

"Please," your nails dig into his back, gripping his shirt and pulling it over his head, "want to feel your skin."

"Hmm, smart girl. Clean these for me." He shoves his fingers in your mouth and when he's satisfied he pulls your dress up over your head, "no bra, Pet? Fuck, you really are perfect," his lips seal around your nipple while your hands fiddle with the button on his jeans, "there's no rush, let me take my time with you. I'll make you feel so good." His fingers thrust back into you, his teeth biting down on your nipple while his tongue flicks over it.

"Yes, fuck." You dress down onto him, your tit pressing out into his face. You can feel your release edging closer, your pussy clenching on his fingers while your tits tingle in his mouth.

"Can feel you getting close Pet," he mumbles his kisses moving up your body, "don't you cum."

"But you said you-"

"I promise to make you feel good. Trust me," his voice now in your ear, "do you trust me?"

"Really? Aladdin? Right now?"

"Stopped you from cumming didn't I?"

"Yes. You dick."

Grayson laughs, pulling his fingers from you and starting to walk down the hall towards your bedroom.

He drops you on the bed and drops his pants almost as fast. "Bring that pretty pussy to me, Pet." His fingers dig into your thighs, pulling you down to the edge of the bed. His face is buried in your pussy as he starts to lick you up.

"Fuck, give a girl a chance."

"No Pet. No chance," he smiles into your pussy before slowing down, his lips pressing their way into your inner thigh, "do you want me to stop?"

"No, don't stop."

"And your safewords?"

"Lance Tucker." You start to thrust up into his face.

"Good Pet," his tongue licks at you, laps at you, his fingers slipping inside you, "I know your body so well, Pet." His fingers split, spreading you open, and holding your cunt apart, "better than even you."

"Di- fuuc- I. AHhh."

"Like that noise means you're going to cum soon."

Your hands fist the sheets your heels digging into nothing as you try and find leverage go push your pussy further into dicks face, "dick, more, I need-"

"I know exactly what you need, Pet," he mumbles into you, "you need to hold it."

"Yes, I can-"

"I want you to want it" he starts to suck on your clit and when your pussy starts to pulse around him he stops, "I want you to want me."

"I do."

"Do you want me or do you just wanna cum?" His breath grazes over you, his finger just toying with you, "be honest."

"I want you to make me cum." you pant, squirming in the sheets as he climbs over you, crowding you into the mattress.

"That's a great answer, Pet. Because why?"

"Noone can make me cum like you can."

"Fucking right." Dick hoists your legs up over his shoulders, bending you in half as he kisses you deeply, "and Pet." His cock parts you, teasing you so bad it makes you shiver.

"Dick," you grab at his face, pulling his down down a deep kiss.

"Noone takes my cock as well as you." He shoves himself inside you grinding his pelvis down onto yours, his cock making you feel so full and fuck, you're so close already.

"Dick, if you don't stop that i-"

"I know, Pet. I can feel it."

"Fufk, can you, stop."

"No, I want it all." He grinds down harder, "all your cum," his nails dig into your thighs, his lips stealing another kiss, "it's mine Pet." You feel his cock throb inside you, "give it to me," he bites down on your lip, growling into your mouth, "give all of yourself to me."

"Ah, fukdk dick, I hwhs-" you moan a jumble of words that gets lost as your brain starts to melt and your legs start to chase. You can feel your pussy sucking dicks cock in, feel it hitting ao deep inside you and when he bites you again you lose your mind as you shatter underneath him.

He doesn't stop, instead changing movement to slam his hips into you. "Fuck, you take it so well," he drops your legs wrapping them around his hips, "draw me in, Pet." His hand holds your face, "look at me," you try but your eyes are so close to just rolling away to space, "stay here," he kisses you as if to keep your mind on this plane, "stay with me, Pet. Don't float away on me."

"I'm here," you flutter your lashes, trying to focus on those pretty blue eyes staring down onto you.

"Good girl, stay with me," he continues to pound into you, fucking you so full. But you keep your eyes on him and fuck if his smiles doesn't make this harder, make you want to cum harder, make you want to take him every moment of every day, "you’re doing so well for me, Pet."

Your hands grip at his shoulders as your back starts to lift from the mattress and he hits so deep within you. His cock throbs inside you, his Pacing becoming erratic as he changes his release inside you. It's so fucking hot the way he uses you like this, like you're his own little fuck toy, "Dick, I'm getting close again."

"Just let it out," he moans, "let all of it out and I'll follow you."

You pull him down for another kiss, your legs tightening around him and holding him so hard that he can barely move his hips to fuck you. "Fuck Dick," you fuck up onto him, pushing him further and deeper inside you.

"Yes, yes let. Fuck- I can feel it, you. God-" your cunt pulses and clenches down so hard on him, your body goes into full shakes as you cum on him. The sight of you losing yourself like this sends Dick over the edge and he cums so hard that his muscles tense and he collapses on top of you. Your legs are still holding him deep inside.

"Fuck, Dick. You ok?" You ask, your pussy still twitching around him.

"Hmm, sleepy. Are you alright?" He sits up, giving you space to breathe and inspecting the marks on your thigh, "do they hurt?"

"No. I like the sting.".

"Course ya do. Little degenerate." He pulls out of you, rolling onto his side and pulling you up to him and kissing your forehead.

"That was kind of intense." You angle into him, squirming at the cum dripping from you.

"Intense bad?"

"Just new. Any reason for that?"

"Maybe, maybe I just think you needed a treat. My pretty pet." He angles your face up so he can give you a sweet kiss.

"And Roy?" You finally ask.

"Let's not talk about hmHarper right now. Can we just cuddle in peace?"

"I guess. But we will talk about it, right?"

"Yeah," he pulls the comforter up over the both of you, "later."

#dick grayson.#dick grayson x reader #brother and bestie #reader x dick grayson #dick grayson #x reader #nightwing x reader

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ask-alphabetboyluvr · 17 days

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i'm not trying to be offensive, this is a genuine question

why did you publish 'otte' if you're not going to be writing a second part? i get that it might be damaging to your mental health and it's personal, but then, why publish something that messes w you emotionally at all? and if you're not trying to 'actively be in diz's headspace' at all? i'm not asking you to revisit trauma or anything, but i'm sure you'd know that quite a lot of readers do like the story and would want a second part, right?

it's a genuine question, because there's no way that the possibility of people wanting a second part didn't cross your mind at all lmao

no offense taken, but this ask did irk me a little bit, so lets chat.

i personally enjoy stories that rip my heart out a little and leave me reeling. it ended in the way that it did because that's how i wanted it to end. i enjoy ambiguity and unresolved endings in stories.

one of my favourite books ends in such a way I couldn't even watch the final episode of the tv adaptation until a few years later because it upset me so much - and it's still my favourite book.

people are fickle, myself included. just because I was comfortable writing and publishing something 9 months ago doesn't mean I am now. if you were to know me irl, you'd know my situation has changed a lot since I wrote and published otte, especially in regards to the subject matter.

you could ask 'why don't you delete it?' and the answer would be that I can ignore the presence of otte in my notes (of which it rarely is these days), but I wouldn't be able to ignore repeated asks about it in my inbox. I've been doing this for long enough now to know how it plays out when I delete my work. it's easier for everyone to just let it linger.

i knew people wouldn't be happy with the way it ended, but if you want a cookie-cutter happy ending, there are plenty of stories that do exactly that. I've got a bunch myself.

are you saying no writers should ever write anything that deviates from your preferences? that all stories have to end in the way you'd like them to? 'cause the fic-sphere would be a boring place if we all wrote the same things, with the same outcome to satisfy the same needs.

and no offense to you either, but no writer owes you a part two of anything, let alone something written on their own time, even if you do enjoy it.

reader expectations don't really cross my mind for one shots so no i didn't think about it in the same way i do with ongoing fics. lmao.

#like what do you want me to do here??#delete it?#never publish anything again in fear of leaving it unresolved?#like what was the point in this? just to discourage people from publishing things that don't fit your standards of what a fic should be?#ask #otte

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jaanusbooktalk · 2 years

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The Darkness Outside Us by Eliot Schrefer - Book Review

10/10⭐️⭐️⭐️⭐️💫

TWs: death, violence, cancer, blood, vomit, war

(TWs are ranked in order of severity, please take them seriously - especially that death part)

Sometimes you read a book, and there’s a distinct before and after. Before I read The Darkness Outside Us, I was a person wholly removed from who I am now, in the After.

To be honest, I’m still reeling from everything that this book was. Is. At some point tonight I will cry about it for the eighth time. At some point I’ll add it to my Amazon shopping cart so I can buy my own copy instead of this crinkly plastic-covered (now tearstained) one. At some point I’ll call up my best friend to cry about it some more. At some point I’ll make a Pinterest board, a Spotify playlist, anything I can think of to help me capture and share exactly how this book makes me feel. Because I need to describe it to someone, even if that’s myself.

I don’t reread books, as a rule. The last books I reread were the Harry Potter series when I was nine. This is going to be the first book to change that rule. Before I start actually reviewing, I would like to formally apologize to my brother who had to listen to me sob over this book for the past three hours while he tried to play video games in our hotel room. I’m sorry (but not really).

Summary:

“Two boys, alone in space. Sworn enemies sent on the same rescue mission.

Ambrose wakes up on the Coordinated Endeavor with no memory of a launch. There’s more that doesn’t add up: evidence indicates strangers have been on board, the ship’s operating system is voiced by his mother, and his handsome, brooding shipmate has barricaded himself away. But nothing will stop Ambrose from making his mission succeed—not when he’s rescuing his own sister.

In order to survive the ship’s secrets, Ambrose and Kodiak will need to work together and learn to trust each other . . . especially once they discover what they are truly up against. Love might be the only way to survive.”

TL;DR - Have you seen Bananafish? Have you read They Both Die At The End? They have nothing on this. (The blurb was dumb so this is what y’all are getting 😭)

Edit one hour later-

Spotify playlist:

Pinterest board:

If you want emotional damage, listen to the playlist while reading 🤲🏼❤️‍🩹

There is a terrible lack of fanart and general fandomness about this book so the sole two pieces of quality fanart I could find:

And yes, I did talk to my bestie for two hours about this.

Let’s talk representation:

There’s only really two human characters in this book and it takes place thousands of years into the future, where there are only two countries: Fédération and Dimokratía. From this it’s difficult to identify the ethnicities of the characters. They are both queer, thought at this point in the future they don’t really use labels like “gay” or “pansexual”. Neither are white, which is clear from the cover and descriptions of the characters.

This means this section is shorter, but my one commentary on the rep is that Ambrose’s skin is described without food terms (aka caramel, coffee, etc) which yes, is the bare minimum, but also appreciated💘

Also I’m just happy that we get a gay love story about space where the main plot line is not the romance - it’s a thriller/mystery/sci-fi elements!

Edit: HAHHAHAHAHA my whole review past this point just got deleted I hate everything fml 😃😃 I was literally right in the last section too

*deep breath* we move on 😌🪷🧘🏽‍♀️

What I liked:

This is one of those books that’s really hard to review without major spoilers, so this section will also be short (since this is a spoiler free blog).

I loved how space was depicted in this book. The prose was beautiful and the story overall really renewed my faith in humanity and made me wonder about what makes us human.

I also loved how the characters grew, developed (and broke down), and how they reflected the hope we search for in the world & each other. There has never been a more fitting name for a book than The Darkness Outside Us, because Ambrose and Kodiak were the light for each other.

At the very beginning of the book there are two black pages, which I’ve put below:

It took me a while to get it.

On a space ship in the middle of endless nothing, the only indication Ambrose and Kodiak had that they were alive was each other. This was what kept them from going insane.

They only knew they existed because there was someone else to perceive them.

(You can see how this gave me an existential crisis now right?)

Ambrose also, understandably, has multiple existential crises throughout the book (because of the nihilistic tendencies in his personality 🧐?) as shown above.

Although I did rate this a 10, some people had some issues with it (that I realized after listening to a podcast review) that I wanted to acknowledge:

- suspension of disbelief

- Ambrose’s character at the beginning (a little self centered)

- too much space stuff & it was confusing at times

- the ending (redacted for obvious reasons but basically abrupt/random)

Note: the people who brought these up still rated the book 8/10 or 3.5/5 overall, despite what they disliked. I didn’t have any of these problems (aside from the Ambrose one which I attributed to deep seated self image problems) but everyone will read it their own way so I wanted to include them as a heads up!

Here is the link to the Spotify podcast review if you’re interested (be aware there are MAJOR SPOILERS!!!)

What brought it to a 10:

This book led me to ask some pretty big questions-

“Would I have done the same in their shoes? Would anyone?”

“If you could do it again would things be different?”

“What makes us human?”

“How do you know you exist?”

“What brings people together/what keeps them apart?”

“How much can people withstand before they go crazy?”

It’s a book that is sad, yes, but not in a way that you’ll regret reading it after. You’ll be grateful the universe (and maybe me 😉) helped put it in your hands.

Finally, I’ll let some random people (courtesy of Tik Tok comments sections) tell you what they thought:

“This book has ruined me and cured me and murdered me and hugged me all at once” -@ihathdroppedmycroissant

“I listened to the audiobook version and it had me sitting upright in my bed all night starting at the wall” [email protected]

“I just finished this and I’m still gasping for air” [email protected]

Do with this what you will.

I sincerely recommend to fans of:

They Both Die at the End by Adam Silvera

Osamu Dazai (the author)

Simone de Beauvoir & Jean-Paul Sartre (poets/key figures in Existentialism)

The Song of Achilles by Madeline Miller

Psychology AKA why ppl do sh*t

Philosophy AKA why ppl do sh*t but fancy✨

Sad books that take ur heart and give it back better

Note: Gay space nerds, you should read this🪐 (I love u)

This book changed the way I see the world. I hope it will for you too 🫶🏼

^me to Tumblr for deleting my review halfway thru (I’m on Ep. 12 of Doom At Your Service rn)

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connorumodeling · 2 months

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DFX 452 Post 6:New Ideas, Storyboard, Ect.(Mar 1, 2024)

Hey, I am back. It has been a while, but I have been working and also go some new ideas. This post will include things like, new blog format, reformatting, storyboarding, edited the walls a little, Made the save point star (from Undertale), and new decisions.

New Blog Format:

I Have been thinking, and thanks to group critiques, and I found a format that I want to try for blog posts. I want to have some in-between blogs to help focus on, and capture, what I am currently working on the specific day I am working on it. For example, if I am working on lighting for the windows on Sunday, then I will make a mini blog post focusing on the lighting, on Sunday. I think this will heavily benefit me for time capsuling more of my work, while also going into more detail on what is currently being worked on.

Reformatting Outliner:

For some reason my Maya file for the Judgement Hall was messed up. There were extra models in the scene, and the organization of the outliner was messed up so I had to fix it, format it better, delete extra models, and more. Now it looks better, cleaner, and should be easier to work with for me, and any client that could use the model in the future.

Images of Cleaned up Maya File:

Storyboarding:

I have been busy thinking of how I want to storyboard my demo reel. I took some paper, watched different scenes, from different movies, demo reels showing off environment, and animations, to do research. I made a draft storyboard, on paper, of some of the main shots I want. This will be revised and tidied up once it gets closer to making the demo reel, but I am happy that I now have an idea of what important shots I want in it, even if the sketches are basic. There is a reason why I am a digital artist over a non-digital one... my drawing skills. I remake it when the time comes and either scan it or make it in Photoshop, but at this stage, it is good as it is.

Image of basic storyboarding draft:

Wall Edits:

I realized that the walls were too thin and It was affecting the overall appearance of the scene, when the windows were connected to them, so I extruded out the walls for the future window redesign.

Extruded Walls:

Save Star Model:

I also decided to add another item model to use in the scene. If anyone reading this has played Undertale then you know what this is. How can you keep resetting/coming back after death? well the save star of course! this is a pretty iconic thing in the game since it is how someone saves their game. Here is a reference of it's shape:

I decided to model a basic version of it to show off in my Judgement Hall scene. I started with a cylinder, got it to the size I wanted, the took a set of vertices. I then selected them and selected the next set of vertices every 2 sets, then I scaled them down to get the star shape. This is what I got.

After that I added surface shaders, and also made another version then took a render:

Now the star, in the 2D game, twinkles. I want to emulate that, if time allows, for the demo, by animating it(the model I choose) rotating continuously, or twinkling. I will fiddle with that later, but I just wanted to have the model done, and there are more pressing matters to deal with, like finishing the updates to past models, and finish the ceiling. If I do decide to have them moving in the demo, then I will make a post involving me messing with getting the animation right.

New Decisions:

After seeing what others are presenting, and taking feedback, I have decided that it might be a good Idea to start messing with Unreal Engine 5 for this project. This week, I am going to import what I have so far into Unreal and see how it looks. I will test out lighting, and the camera to see if I find it better than Maya's tools for delivering the renders I want. I will also see what textures would transfer and what ones would not, because i would have to remake textures that don't transfer, and depending on which ones, it might take to long for what time I currently have, and maya might be the better option. This will be a basic test to see which program would be the better option to work in for shots, lighting, and rendering.

Conclusion/TLDR:

I have taken a look at a new format for these blogs which involves possibly updating it more frequently. I have also made a basic draft of my storyboard for important shots for the demo reel in the future. I have extruded the walls so the scene looks less flat, made two different models for the Undertale save star, and will fiddle with Unreal Engine 5, later down the line, to see if it would be better for certain things, like camera movement and lighting, than Maya for the demo reel. I am on break, so I have way more time to focus on updating this project so expect more updates this coming week as I finish up remodeling some past models, make celling, and (if the week isn't over by then), take a crack at fixing my lighting, or testing the Unreal Engine 5 exporting.

#dfx452 #judgement hall #undertale project #undertale #update

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dzpenumbra · 1 year

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11/28/22

And... it's 4 AM. This time I got sucked into Twitch, and honestly... again... it wasn't worth it. I swear, it never is. Like... there was a point where I was actually laughing out loud which was absolutely a good way to spend my time tonight, but it was like... laughing hard for one 20 minute bit in like... 5 hours of watching. I don't think that evens out. But god, I'm just starving for normal human interactions, so much that I'll just tolerate that.

I spent a good chunk of the day editing my old Session raw recordings from October. I was documenting my progress of learning how to skate in Session on Hardcore mode. I planned to make a highlight reel. Today, I clipped all that, rendered them and cleared up like 100 gigs of hard drive space by deleting the raw files. Now I have space for Rimworld... and I'm a bit back and forth about it, as I said the other day? Maybe yesterday? I'm a bit lost in time.

I don't know if I want to just delete the 7 hour playthrough and start over - because there's no sound and the last session didn't record for god knows how long because my hard drive was full. It's hard to part with them when it's not on the story's terms, when it's my fuck up. Like a technical problem or something. So I guess I'll figure that out tomorrow. I have bigger things to talk about tonight.

I had an intense conversation with my mom about my dad. And... it's getting a bit too overwhelming for me. Like... I'm not a therapist. For decades I would try and try and try to be there for people, and I was. I would shoulder their burdens and let them just dump whatever onto me and I'd just process that shit for them. ... I mean, I can't process that for them, but I'd just like... mop up their emotions after they vented and they'd just not deal with their problems and just drink in the catharsis. I thought I was helping. But once I was made aware of how I'm a much more sensitive person than most, I started to realize that... well... first off... none of these people are offering this in return for me. At all. Why? Because my feelings are too strong for them, that's been the most common answer. They're scared or intimidated by them, and the prospect of taking them on. Here's the contradiction, the weird one. They don't want to take on my stress and support me the way I supported them because of my sensitivity, and yet they don't hesitate to dump stress on me despite my sensitivity. And then I realized, I was giving them too much credit. Credit that they were actually considering how any of that shit affected me at all, or that they even knew me, honestly.

Okay, well I don't want to talk about my dad or that thing with my mom, it wasn't bad it was just a bit much for me and I'll be vocal about it later. But what really put it over the edge was... getting a phone call. I got a call that I... for some reason thought was a telemarketer or something? I had no idea what to expect, who it might be. I can't stress this enough - I do not get phone calls. Even texts. It's just not something that happens in my life. If my phone is ringing, it's either my mom, a telemarketer, grubhub or a vet/doctor. So I see this phone ringing as I'm getting my socks on getting ready to pick up my food delivery... and I just assume it's... okay, welcome to NerdVille - Bolivar. I know this dude's name because every time this guy gets my delivery (and that's pretty often) I start cracking up because I want to do a montage thing of screengrabs of his GPS car driving all over the city and call it "Bolivar's Travels". And I think it's fucking hilarious and cool. ANYWAY. I thought it was him calling to let me know the food was here, they do that sometimes. I could not have been more wrong.

The person who called me. Was my old "friend" from high school. I'm really struggling to actually say the words. She was my... best friend. In like late junior to senior year. She was not a good friend. But she was social, and she introduced me to people, and we'd go on adventures. She got me regularly smoking cigarettes and weed. She would pick me up at my house in her ratty old car "Smoky" and we'd go cruise around and smoke a shit ton of weed and Marb 27's and listen to music and look for people to chill with. She kinda treated me like garbage, and fucked me up pretty bad.

I might as well vent this shit now, because I don't wanna carry this for too long. Big gigantic trigger warnings here, because I'm kinda just letting traumas out to breathe a bit here, just a heads up, I put the tag thing on but I just want to be considerate. She was supposed to do mushrooms with me the first time I did them, we ate them together and she took me to a Friendly's right when they were kicking in, then she fucking left and abandoned me there. Like... I could've gotten arrested. And I somehow miraculously ended up at my crush's house. And I had a big crush on this girl. And she invited some dude over, I guess to like... help her supervise or make her feel safe since she was alone with me or something? Like I'm threatening at all, I just wanted to look at her art and flirt or something, I was a fucking virgin on mushrooms, I would never even know where to start with hooking up with her, it wasn't even on my radar. She had bunk beds in her room and she got me into the top bunk and she and the dude went into the lower bunk and either I had a really vivid panic attack or they hooked up right underneath me while I was tripping. And that scarred me, because I've always been developmentally pretty far behind other people, especially when it came to anything having to do with sexuality, so... that really messed with my head. So, that ended that crush pretty quick... And bravo to my "best friend" for taking me to and then ditching me at a crowded restaurant.

She also tried to get me to "lose my virginity" by getting me really fucked up, locking me in a dorm room with a mutual friend and having her try to "seduce" me. Aka assault me. And she did, and that's all I'm gonna say about that.

She also invited me to live with her and her crackhead boyfriend (oh don't worry, I'm sure she was a crackhead, too) in Colorado, so I flew halfway across the country by myself. My first flight. Alone. Met her there, lived with her for like 3 weeks in Denver. Then she started fighting with her boyfriend (who barely socialized with me at all) and decided she was fed up and flew back home, ditching me with this dude. And he was basically a stranger to me. So, I considered myself homeless, and I just wandered off on my skateboard with all my possessions in a backpack. This kid who partied with them who I met like 3 times got his parents to let me stay with them for a few weeks. I couldn't find a job, we made a bunch of art and played video games but like... it wasn't going anywhere. And I finally swallowed my pride and called my mom and had her fly me back home. I was 19, I think? Tool's 10,000 Days album came out that year, so yeah, that was 2006.

So... let's just say... I don't really have a good track record as far as "good friends" goes. Maybe my metric for "friend" is a little too low. Ya think? Let me be clear, there were more events than just this, too. Yep. These are just the greatest hits.

The last time I talked to her... it was about 2 days after I spread my dog's ashes in the river we used to go play at. I was doing a hike and collecting stones, and I went to visit my dog's ashes. And some really skinny person was sitting further down the river, I walked close by and didn't notice her. I was talking to myself on the trail on the way down, so I was really embarrassed and kinda just kept walking when I saw her. It was her. I completely did not recognize her. When I knew her, even when I reconnected with her a few years prior in 2019... she had always been a bit overweight. Sometimes more than others, but you know. Just, always curvy. And this time she looked skeletal. Like I legit did not recognize her. And she just started pouring out horror stories. And it's giving me really creepy feelings just thinking about it, so I don't want to linger or relive that part. She was going to court for accessory to fentanyl trafficking across state lines, the same shit that killed a mutual friend. She had like 5 kids. She was homeless. She was in rehab, but was down by the river getting high like 2 days before a court case. And she flat-out told me, and I said "oh, well I guess weed is okay, right? Now that it's legal..." And she went, "Right... weed... hehe..." And I was just in my head going "why the fuck are you still standing here dude, fucking run away right now!" I have never hiked faster and more scared than my hike back from that spot to my car, with my hand in my pocket clutching my keys in case I needed to like stab her like she was a zombie or some shit. Fuck, it's just haunting.

She called me. As I was getting my socks and shoes on to get my Chili's delivery. And I picked up. And she went, "Hey, it's ____. I'm stuck in ______ (the town I just moved from) and it's freezing cold and I'm just trying to get to my mom's house." And I just went, "I'm sorry, I don't live in the area anymore, and I don't really know anyone in the area." She asked where I moved to, I considered lying. I probably should have. But I told her I'm upstate. I told her sorry I couldn't help and we said goodbye. It had huge "I'm just calling you because I need something" vibes. A feeling that was a bit too familiar, and really just raised a lot of red flags, so I tried to just take a mental note on what that feeling was. I immediately went to block the number, but instead saved it as "WARNING - (HER NAME)" I couldn't bring myself to block it. I'll unpack that another time.

Then I took some really deep breaths and tried to shake it off, put my shoes on and... she called me again. And I just held the phone in my hand and watched it ring out. Then she called again. And I did the same. And I'm legit just standing by my door with my phone vibrating in my hand and just going "oh my god, I just want to get my dinner." And a literal homeless drug addict is speed dialing me because they can't find a ride. What does she expect me to do? Call my elderly parents and have them give her a ride? I don't know anyone in that town that would give me a ride. If I were her, I would call the cops and explain the situation, see if they have any suggestions, dispatch was always really nice to me. Maybe they would know what to do. I can't save you, and I really can't keep having the guilt of that being thrown on my lap.

The more I look back at my trainwreck of a social life... the more I go... "yeah, no shit, no wonder I'm terrified to meet new people, I'm obviously really fucking bad at picking friends." Why? Well... I guess because I don't pick them. I just take whoever gravitates towards me. And I try really hard to see the best in all people. The best I can. I don't wanna get into that too deep right now, but it does concern me in meeting new people. That I might not be able to tell if I'm around someone bad until it's too late, because historically that has been the case pretty much across the board. I don't know if it's a PTSD thing? Or a neurodivergent thing? Or a developmental thing? Or maybe a combination of all of them? But it destroyed my entire life. I am a creative, and creatives only thrive with a supportive community. And my community consisted of people who were basically just using me for whatever they needed (taking) and kinda just not even really acknowledging that I had needs at all. They sure didn't seem very interested in the things I made, or what I was doing with my life, what my goals were, any of that. So, career-wise. Doomed. Emotional support for a super emotional person? Doomed.

It scares me. I get to a point where I start to wonder if this kind of person is all that's out there. Self-centered, self-indulgent, prideful, sinful people. Lustful, overconsuming, greedy, apathetic, angry, jealous, hubristic people. And that whole black-and-white thinking, absolutism, "everyone might be like this so better play it safe and never leave your house" shit. That's a big-ass component of PTSD. And that shit got set off pretty hard today. Well, this week. Majorly. And today with those phone calls especially. So... I think I'm gonna be gentle with myself right now about the fact that it's 5:15 and I still haven't even taken my contacts out.

I'm just gonna say this. I would really, really, really just like. A break. Just... a break. Some good stuff. Some good news. "Hey, you've been going through some shit so I decided to help you figure out getting new furniture to your new apartment." Fuck man, you know what. I'd literally chop off half my fingers to just curl up in a giant beanbag chair with someone I felt completely comfortable with and just binge-watch a TV series. That's like, an actual dream for me right now. Like... I would take that over meaningless sex literally any day, and I mean that. Or like... sitting on the floor on pillows in front of a fireplace and drinking tea and sharing happy stories. So, if you have access to these things, please don't take them for granted. Because someday they might not be there. And I can say, as someone who has been in that trench most of my life. It's a dark, lonely place.

Good god this is an insanely depressing post! I pledged to try to find good vibes at the end. Here's something. Two things actually. I wrapped the bloodstone. It's not... great... Like I don't think it's super impressive, it's kinda plain, but I got it done and I'm happy with it. And I started to clean up one of the opal pieces and I'm like 90% sure it's real. I have no idea how I'm going to cut it, because I didn't really understand how opal works... the color comes from refracting light, right? So the more different angles (facets) I have cut into it, the more it should scatter light and do that... opalescent effect... right? I think that should be how it works. Because now that I'm cutting the matrix stone off of it, it's actually looking kinda... transparent. So I'm guessing the matrix just bounced the light around to amplify the effect. So... I don't know, I'll have to do a test piece or do some more googling tomorrow or something. It's an interesting concept. But raw, legit opal is so. fucking. beautiful. It's really cool. By far the coolest stone I have in my collection. So that's a good vibe, in my book.

Rest for me now, hopefully. I started to get that "I'm not safe" feeling again. Good thing I have weird occult protection symbols drawn all over the apartment. I figure if you put symbols from every culture and spiritual belief system, at least one of them has gotta work! XD Thank you for sharing my burdens, if you got this far. No matter how many of these hurt, angry, sad, hungry people are out there... no matter how much I get kicked down or taken advantage of. I will never let it snuff out the light inside me. And I will shine that light, of peace and love and hope, the best I can. And I'll be looking out my window every night until I see that light shine back.

#diary #journal #online journal #stream of consciousness #stream of thoughts

0 notes

tessiete · 3 years

Note

If you still take prompts: Rumors of the Duchess of Mandalore (bc patriarchal bs and misogynistic beliefs about female leaders) potentially getting married reaches Coruscant and Obi-Wan copes as well as can be expected. Cue sad boi sadness with maybe fluff at the end? Or go full angst I’m ok with either

I AM! I am still taking prompts, and I know this took a while to get around to because I’m also sloooooow at filling them. But here we are, dear anon. I hope you enjoy this little snippet! <3

THE GRAVITATIONAL DEFLECTION OF LIGHT

There is some silly, selfish part of him that he never outgrew, and like a weed in his gut it twists and writhes when he hears that the Duchess Kryze is to marry.

And suddenly, he finds himself thinking of her more often, and more frequently during situations where his attention would best be put to use elsewhere. In council, he is forced to ask Master Windu to repeat a question he’d failed to hear, his mind being drawn by the gleam of light off the Senate dome on the horizon. During a sparring match, he takes a hit he’d never have missed except that Anakin threatens to deliver him a close shave at the end of his saber, and he’s struck dumb by the memory of her hand upon his cheek. There are peace lilies in a vase in the Archives, and pure beskar changes hands in a deal he’s meant to disrupt at a Separatist camp, but by far the most egregious lapse comes in the midst of relief efforts in a small village on Taskeed. He is caught, for a moment, by the sight of a woman with blonde hair and a young boy on her hip turning away from him. His focus slips. A blaze of light flashes more quickly than he can see, and by the time he hears the retort of a blaster rifle he is already on the ground.

The clones close ranks around him. Cody kneels, calling in a medevac even as Obi-Wan tries to rise.

“No, sir, stay down,” he says, laying one hand against his shoulder. Obi-Wan winces at the contact. His muscles strain at the effort, the nerves at the site of his injury ruptured and ragged.

“Cody,” he chokes out. “There’s a hostile.”

His second is a merciful man and makes no comment on the idiocy of that statement. Instead, he bites open a pain tab, and shoves it between Obi-Wan’s teeth. Then, so rapidly he has no time to protest, he removes his belt, and tears apart the fabric at Obi-Wan’s waist, sprinkling sulfa powder over the gory wound, and pressing a bacta patch down to cover it.

There is no more blaster fire to mark their passage back to the ship, but the wound is too serious to treat on board The Negotiator. He is sent back to Coruscant as a consequence of his foolishness.

There, he is dipped in bacta, where he doesn’t dream, and he spends the next week of his convalescence thinking of her.

It had never been this bad during their first separation. The months following her ascension to the duchy had been painful, that he cannot deny, and he spent hours in his room lonely, and self-pitying, but he had been a child then and he can forgive himself now of the folly of youthful indiscretions. There followed more than a decade between them and he had gone days, weeks - upon the outbreak of war even months - without thinking of her at all.

But with one touch of her hand, he’s fallen again, his resolve crumbling into dust as though his indifference to her were only a veneer grown thin and brittle with being stretched over so much time.

The Duchess of Mandalore is to marry.

Why should that matter to him? They are friends. Hardly that, and nothing more. And it was he who had defined those terms. So why should he be restless, and anxious, and fretted up like some craftsman’s handiwork at the thought of it? It is silly. It is demeaning - to her, and to him.

And yet...he wants to know.

Who is she to marry? And when? How did they meet? Is he a Mandalorian, like her? Or did she meet him here? Did they meet at the Senate while he walked in the Temple only a few klicks away? Have they much in common? Do his political aims match hers? Does he long for peace like she does? Will he stand by her side in upholding it? Would he die for it? Would he die for her? Does she love him?

She must, he thinks. She must love him. She would not choose him, otherwise.

And that, perhaps, is the cruelest thought of all.

He is confined to medbay with nothing to occupy his time but his holopad, his dispatch reports, and her when he sees a news story flash on his screen.

At Last! The Lily is Plucked

He cannot help himself as he reads about a chance meeting, a whirlwind romance, and plenty of private assignations held at various hotels and restaurants across Capital City. There are holos, too, and reels. He sees her leaving the Bal Silvestre on the arm of Corellian senator, Garm Bel Iblis.

Senator Bel Iblis is older than her, and seems a bit unkempt, his long hair pulled half back in a simple style. Obi-Wan knows of him by reputation, and heard him called a rake. His politics brand him a maverick, and a rogue, and he has been known, once or twice, to engage in backdoor negotiations in order to ensure a vote swings one way or another in his favour. Beside him, while he stands smug in his dark brocade, she shines. She is spotless. Luminous. They are not well matched.

He scours the net for more, and because he is looking, he finds it. There are many articles - hundreds. Some map out timelines of their courtship (they met years ago, apparently, at some gala held while Obi-Wan was still helping Anakin with Basic), some tell the history of their previous romantic entanglements (he was engaged to a woman now dead. She was once rumoured to be promised to a Vizsla. Obi-Wan’s name is not mentioned). Some merely provide pictures of their exploits, and comment on their mutual friends, making conjecture after conjecture about how their romance came to be, and what must happen next now that the flame has been rekindled. It is torturous. And tedious. And soon, Obi-Wan loses track of the details that appear in one article, and again in every other.

But one thing remains clear to him: Satine Kryze is going to be married. She has forever slipped his reach.

A reach, he pathetically reminds himself, he never intended to extend. All this self-flagellation is for naught. He is being ridiculous.

So he thumbs off his pad, turns out the lights, and tries to sleep with the image of Satine, smiling and resplendent flickering in his mind. The next morning, feeling no better for the little rest he managed to steal, he deletes the history of his pad, and determines to feel absolutely nothing at all about Satine Kryze.

Then Padme comes to the Council and requests a padawan be sent to Mandalore’s aid.

It is Ahsoka who goes. Of course it is. He takes small solace in the fact that it had not been he who suggested her, but since she was assigned, he feels well within his rights to enquire about the Duchess upon her return.

“She seemed fine,” Ahsoka tells him. He has invited her for tea following her report to the Council, hoping he might, in his hospitality, coax a few more personal details from his grand-padawan. “I mean, there was a moment where Almec - that’s the Prime Minister, or rather was - anyway, there was a moment where he had her in a shock collar, but like I said, the cadets and I managed to sort it out.”

“Right,” he concedes. “As you said.”

A moment passes between them. Obi-Wan sips his tea, struggling to swallow as the fist around his throat grows tighter and tighter. Ahsoka, blissful in the aftermath of a successful solo mission, grabs another biscuit and a strip of perami gammon.

“And tell me,” he ventures. “What of her - her consort? Any word of him? Where was he during this mess?”

“Her consort?”

“Her husband.”

Ahsoka scrunches her nose, and cocks a brow at Obi-Wan’s wild inquiry.

“She had a nephew,” she says. “But no one ever said anything about a consort.”

“Ah,” he says. “Perhaps he was occupied elsewhere.”

“Maybe,” she agrees, amicable and amenable to letting the whole thing slide. He only hopes she won’t think it significant enough to mention to Anakin later. His curiosity won’t be as easily sated with tea and deflection.

He is not a lucky man.

Anakin comes blazing into his room with an ambitious stride, and a grin that speaks of imminent mischief.

“Heard you were asking Ahsoka about the Duchess’ consort,” he says, throwing his cloak over the back of a chair and dropping to lounge across Obi-Wan’s low couch.

“I was asking about her mission,” he corrects. He turns his back to set some water to boil, knowing that such an entrance by his padawan indicates a visit of extended duration. “And the key players, therein. Purely professional.”

“Purely.” Anakin smirks.

The subject is dropped when Anakin is diverted by the service being laid before him, and the inclusion of several of his favourite confections.

“Noorian memba tarts!” he cries. “Where did you even find these?”

“An old recipe,” Obi-Wan says. “But I remember you enjoyed them when we dined on Belasco and thought I’d try my hand at it.”

It is not a bad effort either, judging by Anakin’s display of enthusiasm. He eats the first with some degree of etiquette, but the fourth, fifth, and sixth are gone with no display of decency or shame whatsoever.

Obi-Wan sips his tea. He is thinking of Tahl while Anakin is thinking of the sweetness on his tongue, and making excuses for his absence the previous night.

“I’m sorry, Obi-Wan, but I was unavoidably delayed after the Senate recessed for the evening. I had to - to assist a delegate with a personal matter.”

Obi-Wan says nothing, but remembers how Qui-Gon, too, used to invent reasons to disappear unchecked. He invents nothing. He only cleaves to his duty, while time and fate conspire to keep him absent anyway.

Anakin must hear something in his silence, because his expression loses the tension of equivocation, and he falls to studying Obi-Wan’s face.

“I was only teasing, master,” he says. “Before. I didn’t think to ask Ahsoka anything about the Duchess. She spent most of her time with the nephew, but he seemed a bright kid. Close to Satine. I can ask her to ask him if he knows anything -”

“Absolutely not,” says Obi-Wan. The words are soft, but definite. He rises swiftly to clear the detritus of their meal. “Thank you, Anakin, but Duchess Kryze is only a friend. I merely inquired out of a desire to assure myself that the report issued to the Council lacked nothing in the thoroughness of its presentation. I should hate to think that such a personal association might be overlooked as an avenue for effecting harm.”

“Oh.”

“But I thank you in any case. Ahsoka’s report was well done, and you should be very proud of your padawan,” he says. “As I am of you.”

He turns to Anakin then, smiling and benign. His padawan meets his look with a vaguely skeptical one of his own, before patting him on the shoulder, and shrugging back into his cloak.

“Alright, master,” he says. “I’ll let her know how thorough she was.”

“Goodbye, Anakin.”

“Goodbye,” his friend replies. Then, just as he crosses the threshold of the door and moves into the open hall, he looks back. “Oh,” he says. “There’s a quick supply run being made to Mandalore for relief in light of Ahsoka’s investigation. Scheduled for tomorrow, but unfortunately, I’m needed back at the Senate. I meant to ask - you wouldn’t mind making the trip for me, would you? You don’t even need to get off the ship.”

---

There is nothing he can say to Anakin, so of course, as contrived and embarrassing as the whole thing is, he goes. And he does get off the ship.

Satine is there to meet him.

“Master Kenobi,” she says, extending her hand. “To what do we owe this pleasure?”

He drops a brief, and reverential kiss then lets her go.

“Cleaning up after my padawan and his padawan, it seems,” he says. “Apparently, a master’s work is never over. Congratulations on your recent engagement, Duchess. I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

The look which passes over Satine’s face is one he cannot decipher. He thinks she looks in equal parts shocked that he has heard, disgusted by his presumption in speaking of it, embarrassed by his boldness, and wearied by his presence. But she doesn’t deny it, so he makes his excuses to leave.

“Excuse me, Duchess,” he says. “But this was only meant to be a very brief visit, and I should prepare for departure.”

“Can you not stay for midmeal?” she asks, and he hesitates upon the precipice of her invitation. “Surely you don’t mean to tease me with a visit as brief as this? And surely your men would enjoy some rest and repast before you go?”

The troopers at his back shift, and he can feel their eagerness undulate in the Force. It would be cruel to deny them for the preservation of his own fragmented dignity, so he relents.

“Of course, your grace,” he says. “We would be most honoured.”

“Captain,” she says to the Protector at her right. “Have these men fed and watered immediately. The kitchens and my staff are at their disposal.”

He clicks his heels, and disappears, while she steps forward, and wraps her arm around Obi-Wan’s as though completely uncaring of any beau or consort or husband who might see.

“You, my dear master,” she murmurs slyly by his ear. “Are to be attended elsewhere, at my discretion.”

He does nothing to resist as she pulls him along.

Soon, they are at the Palace. Soon, they are sat at a small table in her private quarters, drinking Mandalorian kava, and eating freshly baked land’shun. Soon, they are alone.

She sets her drink aside, and dusts her hands on a fine silk napkin before broaching the subject trapped between them.

“Now, what is this about my nuptials?” she asks. Her blue eyes are steady upon his own, and he feels his palms slick with sweat. She is radiant. She is regal. There is no holo or reel or word that could do justice to the beauty of this woman in the flesh, and he feels that insidious root of jealousy writhe with agony.

“Satine -” he begins.

“No, no,” she protests, seeming to anticipate his deflection before he has begun. “I should like to hear why you think I ought to accept your congratulations, and why you felt you ought to offer them personally, in particular. Mandalore seems a rather dull trip for a High General to make.”

“I came in Anakin’s stead, actually,” he replies pertly. Another sip of kava lends some sophistication to this claim.

“Of course,” she says, but she does not look away. He can feel her gaze upon him. He can feel her glittering in the Force. She is laughing.

And he cannot bear it.

“Forgive me, your grace,” he says, rising to his feet. He sets the cup upon a saucer where it clatters inelegantly against the pot of sucre next to it, overturning the dish and sending the crystals spilling across the table. “Forgive me,” he says again.

She lunges forward to right the pot, and still his hand beneath her own. For a moment, he doesn’t breathe. Then, he pulls away.

“I read about it on the net,” he says. “I saw the holos, and the reels. I only wanted to see you one last time, to see...I wanted to see that you were happy. That’s all.”

“Oh, Ben,” she says, his name like a sigh upon the breeze.

“It is nothing,” he says. “A foolishness all my own. I am sorry if I have troubled you, and I offer you my sincerest congratulations.”

He bows, though when he raises his head, his eyes do not rise with it, so he does not see the look of sorrow upon her face. Still, he imagines it as pity, and moves to make his escape. She is faster than he is.

“No,” she says, standing between him and the door. “I will not accept your congratulations, and I will not accept your departure on such callous terms as these.”

“Duchess -”

“Ben,” she counters, leaning on the name. “I am not engaged. I am not married. And I do not intend to be, no matter how devoted to the idea of it you are.”

“I - devoted?” he asks, his voice rising to the height of his indignation. “I am devoted to no such thing. I have only - only been reconciled to it for weeks, thinking only of you and your happiness.”

“And your own misery, too, I’d wager.”

He chokes on his denial because he knows it is too big a lie to fit through his lips, and stares at her in dismay. She is smiling. Force, he thinks. She is incandescent. Like she has swallowed a star, and he can’t look away. He would that he could be consumed by her too, and finally, he gives in.

“Yes,” he says in an admission of guilt so great it brings relief. “I was miserable. I am, I think, an infinitely miserable person.”

“You are,” she agrees. “But I am not getting married, I am not engaged, and I am only as in love as I ever have been. And if you are foolish enough to forget that, then you are deserving of every misery you heap on yourself.”

“Have pity,” he begs.

“None,” she says.

“Have mercy,” he pleads.

“For you?” she says. “Always.”

They fall together like gravity and sunlight, and for a moment, whole galaxies bend to their will.

#my fic #prompt fill #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #obitine #garm's here #and anakin #and ahsoka #i mashed everyone in #star wars #fic #gffa

81 notes · View notes

olivemac · 3 years

Text

heartbeat | chapter five | b.b.

Summary | When Steve Rogers asks Kate Stark to find the Winter Soldier, she gets too involved.

Notes | Captain America: Civil War re-write, essentially. Starts just after the events of CA: Winter Soldier.

Pairing | Bucky Barnes x fem!oc, Bucky Barnes x Stark!oc

Genre | romance

Rating | explicit

Story Warnings | mild angst, fluff, romance tropes, so many romance tropes, coarse language, alcohol use, canon-typical violence, smut (m/f), oral sex (f&m receiving), 18+ ONLY

Chapter Warnings | canon-typical violence, cheeeeeeese factor, mentions of alcohol, mild language

Citation | Russo, J., & Russo, A. (2016). Captain America: Civil War. Walt Disney Studios Motion Pictures.

Translations:

Ich will dich küssen. = I want to kiss you.

Bitte. = Please.

A/N #1 |The only German speaker in my house is my husband, but I didn't have him check the translations because they're so short. So, if they're wrong, blame Google.

A/N #2 | I've been working to update this story daily, but last night I accidentally deleted my work on the last two chapters. I tried everything I could to recover it, but it looks like I'll be rewriting them. So, no update for a couple of days, at least. And send me positive vibes because I'm going insane over it. Haha.

master list | AO3 link

_____

prev chapter

_____

In Vienna, Steve's just finished a call with Natasha when his phone buzzes with a text from Kate. He hasn't heard from her in months, maybe a year. He frowns.

911. Call me. I found him.

Kate picks up on the first ring. "I'm sending you coordinates. He didn't do this," she says before Steve can get a word in.

"How do you know?" Steve asks.

She pauses, then says, "I've been with him in Bucharest for eight months."

Steve sighs and pushes his sunglasses up a bit so he can massage the bridge of his nose. He can feel a headache coming on. "Sit tight. I'll be there soon," he tells Kate.

He hangs up and meets Sam at a coffee shop nearby.

"Kate found him," Steve tells Sam.

"Where?" Sam asks.

"Bucharest. She's there. With Bucky. Has been for some time. Says he didn't do this."

Sam shakes his head, then asks, "Nat tell you to stay out of it? Might have a point."

"He'd do it for me," Steve says.

"1945, maybe," Sam says. "I just want to make sure we consider all our options. The people that shoot at you usually wind-up shooting at me."

Sharon joins them, discreetly. "Tips have been pouring in since that footage went public. Everybody thinks the Winter Solder goes to their gym," she tells Steve.

Steve interrupts her, "I know where he is." Sharon frowns. Steve continues, "I’ve had someone looking for him for the past two years."

"Then you don't need this," Sharon says, indicating the file in her hands.

"Thank you," Steve says.

"You're going to have to hurry. We have orders to shoot on sight."

_____

"Cap," Kate acknowledges when she opens the apartment door for Steve.

"You should have told me," Steve frowns, following her into the space.

Kate sighs, "I didn't want you to get hurt. I wanted to know what he remembered."

"You could have gotten hurt," Steve stresses.

"Bucky wouldn't hurt me."

Steve looks pointedly at the bruises on her neck, and Kate blushes but stays silent.

"So, he's Bucky again?" he asks.

"Yes," Kate replies. "He's not here, by the way. And he wasn't in Vienna."

"Interpol, CIA, MI-6, everyone thinks he was there."

"Well, he wasn't," she says sharply. "He was here. With me."

"Can you prove it?" Steve asks.

Kate bristles. "You don't believe me."

"You went after him without telling me!"

She doesn't respond. "His apartment is next door. He'll be back soon," she says, leading the way.

"Kate," Steve says, looking at her, "They’re coming for him. But I'll do what I can do hold them off."

"I know," she nods.

_____

Bucky scans the street. He left Kate in bed, naked and warm, and he wants to get back to her. But a news vendor is staring at him with recognition, and it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. As he meets the man's eyes cautiously, the vendor turns and runs from the kiosk. Fuck, Bucky thinks. He picks up the newspaper and his blood runs cold. Winter Soldier wanted for Vienna bombing. He needs to get back to Kate. Then he needs to get out of the country.

_____

Steve looks around Bucky's apartment. There's a mattress on the floor, the sheets disheveled, but not much else. Steve wonders how much time Bucky spent here versus next door with Kate. He lifts a notebook off the top of the fridge and opens it. His own face looks up at him from a museum brochure.

Sam’s voice comes through on the comms, "Head's up, Cap. German Special Forces approaching from the south."

"Understood," Steve says. When he turns, Bucky is standing behind him. "Do you know me?"

Bucky stares at him. "You're Steve. I read about you in a museum."

Sam is in Steve's ear, "They've set the perimeter."

“I know you’re nervous,” Steve tells Bucky, “and you have plenty of reason to be. But you’re lying."

“I wasn't in Vienna. I don't do that anymore," Bucky responds firmly.

"They're entering the building," Sam warns.

"That's what Kate said," Steve says.

"Where is she?" Bucky asks, his jaw clenching.

"She's safe. With my colleague," Steve points to his earpiece. Bucky nods. Steve continues, "The people who think you were in Vienna are coming here now. And they're not planning on taking you alive."

"That's smart. Good strategy," Bucky says. He can hear footsteps above them.

_____

On the roof, Sam looks at Kate as he tells Steve, "They're on the roof. We're compromised."

"You go," she says to Sam. "I'm a civilian; they won't see me as a threat." Sam nods and takes off.

Kate moves in the opposite direction. Two members of the German Special Forces move slowly in front of her, their backs to her.

"Officers," she says and as the one closest to her turns, she clocks him the nose with her fist. He reels backwards, and the soldier behind him charges at her. Kate sweeps his legs out from under him but a third soldier she didn't see has a hold of her before she can react. She grunts and pulls against his hands around her wrists. He says something into his comms and leads her to the stairs.

She doesn't see Sam or Steve again until she's thrown into the back of police van with them. A man she doesn't recognize sits in front of Steve. Steve turns and meets her eyes, and she gives him a reassuring smile. He's stony faced. She wants to ask about Bucky, but she already knows the answer. She stays quiet.

_____

"I thought you were eat-pray-loving your way through Europe!" Tony half-shouts at Kate when they're reunited at the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre in Berlin.

"Romania is Europe," she says. She knows it's not the time to be a smartass, but she can't help it when Tony is involved.

Tony's face is red with anger. "I was picturing day drinking at the Louvre, not shacking up with a cyborg assassin!"

"Tony," Steve warns.

Tony turns to him, "No, you stay out of this. You've done enough."

Beside him, Natasha Romanoff stays silent, studying the bruises on Kate's neck.

"You're lucky they're not charging you with something," he says. "You assaulted an officer. I'm having everything in that apartment of yours packed up and sent to New York. It'll be waiting for you when you arrive. We'll talk about this later."

Kate scoffs, "What? You're sending me to my room?"

"Yes," Tony responds before turning his back to her.

_____

"He could have killed you," Natasha hisses when she finally gets Kate alone in the women's bathroom.

"He wouldn't," Kate replies.

Nat points to Kate's bruised neck, and Kate at least has the decency to look chagrined. “I hid who I was," she says. "He found out. He thought I was HYDRA."

Nat studies Kate's face. "You're in love with him," she says, shock evident in her voice.

"Nat."

"You're in love with him," she repeats. "Katie, this is a bad idea."

Kate bristles at the nickname Nat only uses when she's playing big sister and doling out advice. "Nat, please," Kate says, but she's not sure what exactly she's asking for. She needs someone to understand, but she also doesn't want the sympathy or disappointment she sees in Natasha's eyes.

"Tony isn't going to like this," Nat finally says.

"When has he ever liked a guy I've dated?" Kate asks, smiling.

Nat smirks, then says, "I need to get back in there."

"I'm right behind you," Kate says. "Just give me a minute."

In the bathroom, finally alone, Kate splashes water on her face and takes a few deep breaths. She looks at herself in the mirror. Her hair's a mess and there are dark circles forming under her hazel eyes. She runs her fingers through her curls and sighs.

Then the lights go out.

Kate pauses for a moment, expecting the lights to come back on, but when a siren sounds, she knows something's up. And it probably involves Bucky. When she opens the bathroom door, people are streaming past. Kate uses the chaos to shake the agent that was assigned to watch her and exits the building during the evacuation.

_____

Steve texts Kate the coordinates to an abandoned warehouse, and she makes her way there. She knows everyone will be looking for Captain America, the Falcon, and the Winter Soldier, so it's easy enough for her to move through the city undetected.

When she arrives, Steve is waiting at the door.

"What the hell happened?" she asks him.

"The psychiatrist wasn't with Joint Counter Terrorism. He triggered the Winter Soldier," Steve says.

She pushes past him to find Sam watching over an unconscious Bucky, his titanium arm clamped in an industrial vice. Bucky groans and begins to stir. Kate kneels in front of him.

"Watch it," Sam warns.

“Hi,” she says. She takes Bucky’s face in her hands, looking into his eyes and checking for signs of concussion. “There you are.”

“Hi,” Bucky replies softly. He smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.

"Hey, Cap!" Sam calls.

Kate drops her hands when Steve enters, but stays kneeling in front of Bucky.

Bucky looks up at Steve. "Steve," he says.

"Which Bucky am I talking to?" Steve asks.

Bucky pauses. "Your mom's name was Sarah," he says, and then chuckles, "You used to wear newspapers in your shoes."

"Can't read that in a museum," Steve says.

Sam raises his eyebrows skeptically. "Just like that, we're supposed to be cool?"

"What did I do?" Bucky asks.

"Enough," Steve answers.

"Oh, God, I knew this would happen," Bucky sighs, "Everything HYDRA put inside me is still there. All he had to do was say the goddamn words."

Kate squeezes Bucky's right hand in her own.

"Who was he?" Steve questions.

Bucky shakes his head, "I don't know."

"People are dead,” Steve tells him. “The bombing, the setup. The doctor did all that just to get 10 minutes with you. I need you to do better than 'I don't know'.”

Bucky pauses. "He wanted to know about Siberia. Where I was kept. He wanted to know exactly where."

"Why would he need to know that?" Steve asks.

"Because I'm not the only Winter Soldier."

Kate looks at Steve. "Can we get him out of this thing, please?"

Steve acquiesces and when Bucky is free, he rotates his shoulder to work out the kinks. Kate takes his metal hand in hers and kisses his palm. Steve hates to deny him this, deny Bucky any bit of affection Kate is willing to show him, but they need answers.

"Who were they?" Steve asks.

"Their most elite death squad. More kills than anyone in HYDRA history. And that was before the serum," Bucky says.

"They all turn out like you?" Sam asks.

"Worse."

"The doctor, could he control them?" Steve questions.

"Enough," Bucky answers, looking down.

Steve looks at Sam. "Said he wanted to see an empire fall."

"With these guys he could do it," Bucky says. "They speak 30 languages, can hide in plain sight, infiltrate, assassinate, destabilize. They can take a whole country down in one night. You'd never see them coming."

Sam steps over to Steve. "This would have been a lot easier a week ago," he says.

"If we call Tony," Steve starts.

"No, he won't believe us," Sam says.

"Even if he did..." Steve trails off.

"Who knows if the Accords would let him help," Sam finishes.

Steve sighs, "We're on our own."

"Maybe not," Sam says. "I know a guy."

While Steve and Sam make plans, Kate watches Bucky closely.

"I'm sorry," she whispers to him.

Bucky shakes his head, "You don't have anything to be sorry for."

She smiles softly. "I'm still sorry."

"Make it up to me," he says, echoing her words from their last night together.

She leans up and kisses him gently, and Bucky drops his hands to her waist and pulls her up onto his knee, deepening the kiss. His hands move up to cup her face and when they pull apart, he leans his forehead against hers.

"Not the time!" Sam says from across the room.

Steve is almost blushing.

Kate looks sheepish as she stands from Bucky's lap. He watches her. He hadn't told them about where the super soldier serum came from, but he would have to eventually. For now, he pushes the thought down and takes Kate's hand in his, following Sam and Steve out of the warehouse.

_____

Sharon meets the four of them under an overpass just outside the city to hand over Captain America's shield and the Falcon's wings. Sam, Kate, and Bucky stay in the car to give Sharon and Steve some privacy.

Bucky stares at Sam in front of him in the passenger seat. "Can you move your seat up?"

"No," Sam says without looking back.

Bucky frowns and slides closer to Kate's side of the car. She rolls her eyes, lifts off the seat of the small Volkswagen, and climbs over Bucky's lap, moving behind Sam. "Play nice, you two," she says.

The three of them watch from the car as Steve and Sharon share a kiss.

"I'm starting to feel like a damn fifth wheel," Sam says, throwing up his hands.

Kate clamps a hand over her mouth to keep from laughing, and Bucky smiles at her.

____

Later that night, Steve pulls the car into the back lot of a seedy motel.

"I'll go in," Kate says, getting out. "I speak enough German to book us rooms. Plus, no one's looking for me, and I have cash."

When she comes back out, she tosses a room key to Sam through the open car window and says, "Two rooms. Right next to each other."

"Thanks, Kate," Steve says. "Get some sleep, everyone."

"You speak German?" Bucky asks when he and Kate are alone.

"Better than I speak Romanian," she says. "But my French is best."

Bucky stares at her.

"I spent an entire Octoberfest in Munich one year," Kate says. "Picked up a few phrases. Mostly ‘Can I get another beer?’ and ‘No, I won’t go home with you,’ but I get by.”

"Ich will dich küssen," Bucky says, reaching up to cup her cheek.

"Bitte," Kate laughs.

Bucky leans forward and captures her lips with his own. He runs his tongue along her bottom lip until she opens her mouth for him. His hands move to grip her waist tightly, and she slides her own arms around his neck.

They’re interrupted by a knock at the door.

Kate finds Steve standing outside. He pushes the door open wider with one arm and asks, “Do you mind if I talk to Bucky?”

Kate looks at Bucky and says, “I’ll be next door bothering Sam.” Then she ducks under Steve’s arm and out the door.

Steve walks into the room slowly. “How you holding up?” he asks, looking at Bucky.

“I didn’t mean for any of this to happen,” Bucky says, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know, pal,” Steve says, sitting beside him. He claps Bucky on the back. “But I told you I’d be here to the end of the line.”

“Steve…” Bucky starts, unable to look at him. He doesn’t finish the thought.

They sit in silence for a minute, until Steve says, “So…Kate….” It’s half question, half statement.

Bucky chuckles, “Yeah. Kate.”

“How did that happen?” Steve asks.

“Apart from when you called me Bucky in D.C., she was the first person to look at me in seventy years. I mean, actually look at me, see me, talkto me.” Bucky’s quiet for a moment. “Plus, she’s a knockout,” he says, and Steve sees the glimmer of his old friend in Bucky’s eyes. “And she can cook,” Bucky adds.

Steve laughs. “Your mom was always a great cook,” he says.

Grief flashes across Bucky’s face before he can stop it.

“I know it’s hard,” Steve says, “coming back and everyone being…gone.”

Bucky nods.

“But you’ve got me,” Steve continues, “and Kate. And Sam, too.”

Bucky snorts. “I don’t think he’s my biggest fan.”

Steve chuckles. “He’ll come around.” He stands up. “Speaking of Sam, I should probably go rescue him from Kate. The last time I left them alone, she hacked into his phone and changed all his contacts to Harry Potter characters because he said he hadn’t read the books.”

“What the hell is Harry Potter?” Bucky says.

“You’ve got a lot to catch up on,” Steve says. “But first, let’s deal with this doctor."

Bucky nods, and Steve leaves him alone. A minute later, Kate returns. She kicks her shoes off at the door and throws herself down on the bed beside Bucky.

"I'm exhausted," she says, closing her eyes.

Bucky stands and flips the lights off before shedding his jeans and shirt and joining Kate on the bed again.

"Come here," he says, reaching for her. His fingers find the button of her jeans, popping it open and pushing them down her hips. She kicks them off her legs, and when Bucky throws them off the side of the bed, he pulls her tightly against his chest. "Sleep," he murmurs against her hair and presses a kiss to the top of her head. And they both fall asleep to the sound of the other’s heartbeat.

_____

next chapter

#bucky barnes #james buchanan barnes #james bucky barnes #sergeant barnes #bucky barnes x oc #bucky x oc #bucky barnes x ofc #bucky x ofc #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes romance

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sunshinejihyun · 4 years

Text

Wedding Bells - Saeyoung Choi

Summary: A dating app brings two unexpected people together

A note about this work: All of the RFA members have significant others (besides Saeyoung, MC is used for this fic as normal) that are referred to by name. Those are my OC’s and they’re the names I use when I play those characters routes. I just needed to give everyone a happy ending, okay?

Here is a quick breakdown: Yoosung and Wenyn Zen and Briar Jaehee and Cordelia Jumin and Luce

You can meet all my OC’s here!

Word count: 5.4k

Masterlist

“What do you mean I have to have a date to your wedding?” Saeyoung Choi stood staring out his kitchen window, his phone pressed against his ear and his best friend, Yoosung was spewing some ridiculous ideas into his ear.

“I mean just that. Bring a date, everyone thinks you have a girlfriend.” Yoosung’s voice sounded muffled on the other end and Saeyoung’s brow furrowed. “Sorry, Wenyn was trying to tell me something. But seriously, bring a date or else!”

“Where am I supposed to find a date in the next two weeks?” Saeyoung rubbed at the part of his nose that his glasses rested. “You know what - never mind. I’ll figure it out. Talk to you later!” Before Yoosung could get another word in, Saeyoung was pressing the end call button.

Two questions were ringing clearly in his head: first, why the hell would Yoosung tell everyone he was seeing someone and where the hell was he supposed to meet a girl to bring to a wedding on such short notice?

Sitting himself down at his computer, Saeyoung found himself looking at dating sites, only half considering making an account. After one bad tinder date, he had ended up deleting himself from the app (and hacking into her phone to erase his number, but that was a different story) and vowed to never go on another dating app. But desperate times called for desperate measures, so he’d have to make do with the resources he had which is how Saeyoung found himself signing up for Tinder for the second time.

“Any luck on the date hunt?” Yoosung had stopped by Saeyoung’s bunker in hopes of stowing away for a few hours; wedding planning was tough and the blond needed some time away from it all.

“No, I rejoined tinder but it seems the only people who match with me want me to pay for their OnlyFans - I don’t even know what that is! - or just don’t respond! I’m getting frustrated.” Saeyoung whined, glaring at his blond friend. “Tell me why you had to tell everyone I was seeing someone?”

“I don’t know! You’re the only one from the RFA not bringing a date, I didn’t want you to feel left out!” Yousung replied, looking over Saeyoung’s shoulder and swiping right on the tinder profile Saeyoung was currently looking at. “What if.. You make your own app?”

“My own app?” Saeyoung echoed and Yoosung nodded, letting Saeyoung bounce the idea around in my head. “I’d have to hack some websites like Facebook and Twitter to advertise it, but that would be a good idea.”

Yoosung grinned, happy to have supplied Saeyoung with a good idea and patted his friend on the shoulder. “Alright, I’ll leave you to it. Wenyn’s probably freaking out wondering where I am since I said I was going to the convenience store for milk. I’ll text you later and check on how your app is coming along!”

Saeyoung barely heard his younger friend, mind already reeling as he started figuring out how to design his new app.

“MC! Good morning, the usual?” Jaehee Kang was standing behind her bakery’s counter, cleaning the steam spout on the coffee machine as you approached the counter. Ever since Jaehee and her partner Cordelia had opened up this shop, you’ve been a frequent customer and have become friends with both the women who ran it.

“Good morning, Jaehee! And, yes please.” You replied, looking down at your phone and chewing your nail nervously.

“Something on your mind?” The girl’s long hair was tied back today and you laughed as she continually pushed a piece of hair that fell out of place before starting on your coffee order,

“Eh, it’s nothing bad. Just having a family party and everyone’s expecting me to bring a date. A date that I definitely don’t have.” You locked your phone before shoving it in your pocket so you were able to grab your drink from Jaehee.

“I have a friend who just finished designing an app,” Jaehee’s voice was soft as she spoke of this person, like they were someone who she held very dear to her heart. “It might help you with your problem. It’s called Wedding Bells, look it up on the app store.”

“Wedding Bells? I’m not looking to get married!” You laughed and headed for the door, letting the next customer order from Jaehee. She sent you a small smile and a wave before putting all her attention on the man standing in front of her.

As you were walking back to your house, curiosity got the best of you and you pulled out your phone before searching Wedding Bells on the app store. A simple ‘W’ was the app’s logo and the description was: ‘Looking for a fake date to a wedding or another family function? Look no further! With Wedding Bells, you’re connected with other people looking for dates!’

Without thinking about it too much, you downloaded the app and when you got home, you sat down and started filling out your profile. It asked for specifics, like the exact date and time you needed someone with you as well as your likes and dislikes and from there gave you a small list of 10 people they think you’d be a good fake date for and vise versa.

Scrolling through the first two profiles, you were virtually unimpressed. These people seemed bland - like they had no personality, which was probably the reason why they weren’t able to find dates. The third profile you clicked on had potential, he seemed funny in his answers and like he actually cared about how people perceived him. Plus he was good looking, which was always a bonus. Throwing caution to the wind, you decided to message him.

MC: Hey, Saeyoung! I see you need a date to a wedding, what a coincidence, I’m also in need of a fake date to a family function.

You put yourself out there, now no one could say you didn’t try. Just as you were about to exit out of the app, you noticed that Saeyoung was typing so you stayed, anxious to see his response.

Saeyoung: MC! Greetings! Yep yep yep I need a date… it’s to my best friends wedding and everyone thinks I have a girlfriend! You have any experience in the being-a-fake-girlfriend department?

MC: Can’t say I’ve ever been someone’s fake girlfriend, but I have been a real girlfriend once or twice so I think I can handle it!

Saeyoung: Amazing! I think I’d be a great fake boyfriend if I did say so myself! Would you be interested in being my fake girlfriend?

MC: Only if you’re interested in being my fake boyfriend!

The rest of the night was spent chatting with Saeyoung. You had even switched over to a video call at one point and the entire time was spent with you both choosing outfits for the other to wear to the events. You had even caught a peek at him shirtless a few times during that process, which was a very welcome surprise.

“I can’t believe it’s already 3am,” Saeyoung whispered. You were both currently laying in bed, each holding their phone with one hand, your head being popped up by the other. “You’re so easy to talk to.”

“You are also,” you admitted, moving your hair out of your eyes. “I think I should probably get some sleep now.”

“You should, you’ll need that beauty rest for the wedding.” Saeyoung teased, sticking out his tongue at you.

“Says you! You look like you haven't slept in days!” You watched as he closed his eyes, his breathing starting to slow. “Goodnight, Saeyoung.”

Sleepily opening one eye towards you, he sent you a crooked grin. “Goodnight, beautiful MC.”

The wedding day was approaching fast and Saeyoung was a nervous mess. Throughout the week of getting to know MC, he had quickly come to enjoy her silly little texts she would send during the day and the nightly phone calls that went into the early morning that they spent planning their fake relationship and just learning about each other.

Saeyoung was curious about MC. She was quick to laugh at his jokes and was even speedier at supplying her own remark back. She would be the perfect date to Yoosung and Wenyn’s wedding, she was so perfectly in sync with him that no one would be able to suspect that they haven’t been together for the last six months and he only hoped she thought the same about him.

“Hello? Saeyoung?” Her voice brought the redhead out of his thoughts and he zeroed back in on what she was saying. “As I was saying, give me a run down on your friends that I’ll meet at this wedding! I’m gonna need to be on my A game if I want them to like me.” Saeyoung smiled at the bright girl in front of him, so eager to please his friends and set in on telling her about his friends and their significant others

“Your chariot awaits, m’lady!” You opened the door to your apartment to find Saeyoung standing there, a corsage in his hand and a goofy smile on his face.

“Why thank you, my good sir.” You replied before accepting his outstretched hand. “I got you a pink boutonniere to match your tie and my nails, I hope that’s okay.”

“I’ve never gotten one of those before so the fact that you even got me one makes it more than okay.” Saeyoung answered honestly before leading you to a red sports car sitting out front. “Figured we’d arrive in style.”

“Wow, you weren’t kidding when you said you had a nice car!” You exclaimed, getting in the passenger seat, careful not to wrinkle your dress. “What is it you do for work again?”

“This and that,” he answered nonchalantly before throwing you a grin and putting the car in drive. “Now, are we ready to go?”

“I was born ready, fake boyfriend.” Saeyoung laughed at that before turning on the radio. The beginning of the car ride was spent with you and him quizzing each other on your fake relationship but by the end, you both were belting along to the loud music blaring through the speakers.

“At last we’ve arrived!” Saeyoung exclaimed before getting out of the car. “You stay there, I’m going to come open the door for you and then put this corsage on your wrist.” Sitting still, a smile played on your lips as you watched the lanky man run around to your side of the car and open the door for you. “Wrist please,” silently holding out your left arm to him, he gently gripped your hand, thumb rubbing a soothing pattern for a second before letting go to slip the band on your wrist. “There, it looks good! Matches your dress and everything!” It did, although it wasn’t what you would have picked out for yourself. The corsage was adorned with deep green and white flowers and light pink and silver ribbon woven throughout. It went well with your black and green dress, and it was from Saeyoung which was the most important part.

“Okay, now let me put this boutonniere on your jacket.” You opened the case before pulling out the simple pink rose with white ribbon wrapped around it. “These get a little tricky to put on, so hold still.” You warned, hand poised with one of the needles ready to pin the flower to his jacket. As you were about to pin it, Saeyoung shifted his weight from one hip to the other and you pricked yourself, blood immediately blooming at the small wound. “Ouch!”

“Oh man, I’m so sorry MC!” Saeyoung replied, gently grabbing your hang before bringing the finger up to his mouth and gently sucking on the wound to clean it of blood. You watched him, open mouthed and he immediately dropped your hand, face flushing red. “I have no clue why I just did that.”

“MC?” You heard your name being called and you turned to find Jaehee and Cordelia making their way over to you and your date, Cordelia’s arm was wrapped around one of Jaehee’s, both of them with confused smiles on your faces. “I didn’t know you and Saeyoung knew each other?”

You glanced nervously at the boy standing next to you before clearing your throat. “Yes, Saeyoung and I have been dating for six months now.”

Jaehee sent a confused look your way. “What are you talking about? Just last week you were in the shop complaining about not having a date to a family function. I recommended trying my friends app and…” her speech slowed down before she stopped completely, realization dawning on her face. “Oh! I see, you downloaded Saeyoung’s app and you two are now pretending you’re in a relationship.” “Don’t worry!” Cordelia’s bright smile was a welcome change after the awkward encounter. “Your secret is safe with us! Have a nice time guys, we’ll see you inside.” Jaehee bowed her head to you both before reconnecting her hand with her partners, both of them whispering quietly to each other as they walked inside the venue the wedding was being held in.

“Jaehee said I downloaded your app?” You turned to pin the flower again and this time he let you step closer. You could feel Saeyoung’s breath disturbing some stray strands of your hair as you adjusted the flower so it was sitting straight on his jackets lapel.

“Surprise?” Saeyoung’s face was contorted into an awkward sheepish smile and you rolled your eyes with him. “I didn’t want you to think I, like, hacked your list to put me on there because I needed a date. The algorithm naturally matched us, I had nothing to do with it. I created the app and then answered the questions same as you and every one else who’s using it.”

“I think that’s really impressive, Saeyoung. And it’s another fact that I know about you - you create apps - that we can sell to make our relationship seem real.” You found yourself getting lost in his eyes. Normally when you video chatted with him, he was wearing glasses but today he must have been wearing contacts. His honey colored eyes portrayed his every emotion, and it would have been easy to spend all day looking into them.

“Umm… we should probably head in.” Saeyoung suggested, holding out his hand for you to intwine your fingers with him. “Ready, darling?”

“Yes sweetie,” you giggled, letting him lead you into the venue. When you walked in, an impeccably dressed man with long silver hair waived you both over.

“Saeyoung! We were starting to worry that you wouldn’t show up. And you must be MC! So nice to meet you, I’m Zen and this is my girlfriend, Briar.” Zen gestured to the girl sitting next to him and you smiled at them both.

“Nice to meet you both, I’ve heard lots about you guys.” You replied, Saeyoung nervously squeezing your hand as he watched Zen’s face. Zen was the tough one to trick; he was an actor so it was super easy to tell when others were bluffing around him.

“All good things, I hope?” Zen looked at you curiously and you flushed before turning teasingly to Saeyoung.

“Mostly,” Saeyoung sent you a small smile and you smiled back before finishing your sentence. “You know Saeyoung, he has to throw some weird facts in about everyone. He was telling me about the time he sent a picture of him dressed as a maid and you-”

“Okay! I get it, he’s an annoying jerk who promised not to tell that to anyone.” Zen’s face dropped into a pout and you internally ‘aww-ed’ when Briar leaned over to kiss his bottom lip that was sticking out.

Soon after, the service started which made it hard to talk to anyone. As Yoosung was saying his vows, you looked over to find Saeyoung swiping away at a tear that had filled his eyes and you reached over and reattached your hands, squeezing gently. “You okay?” You whispered.

“Yeah,” he whispered back, leaning his head on your shoulder. “I’ll tell you more later but I never expected to be friends with these people for this long, let alone see my best friend get married. Just kinda hit me all at once.” You didn’t respond, opting to rest your head on top of his and you both stayed like that, your breathing in sync with each other for the rest of the ceremony.

“Well, I don’t know about you guys, but I think that was one of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen.” Zen remarked once Yoosung and Wenyn had walked out of the venue as man and wife. “It’s time to head over to the reception.”

You and Saeyoung took your time walking over to the reception hall, your hands still connected and a comfortable silence settling over the both of you. “What did you mean earlier?”

Saeyoung stopped and pulled you to a small bench, both of you sitting down, your thighs pressed together. “When I met this group of people, I was working for a secret agency as a hacker. I couldn’t make friends then and when I did, I’d have to change my identity eventually and never talk to them again. With the help from Jumin, I was able to successfully get out and start over after deleting my data and information from their systems.” Saeyoung turned his body slightly to face you and you could see how hard this was for him. His lip was trembling and he had a deep sadness etched in his eyes that was replacing the normally playful gleam. “That’s also a reason why I never met anyone romantically, I didn’t want them to get to close and then have to hurt them in the long run.”

“But you don’t have to hide anymore, you can be with someone now.” You pointed out and Saeyoung smiled sadly. “Have you thought that maybe…” you trailed off, shaking your head almost like you were physically trying to rid yourself of the thought. “Never mind.”

“You can ask me if you want to,” Saeyoung encouraged, his smile causing your heart to stutter for a moment before it permanently picked up speed. You swallowed hard and wiped your sweaty hands on your skirt before smoothing it out, playing with the hem to avoid meeting the eyes that you continuously find yourself lost in.

“Just hypothetically… do you think you’ve already met the person you could be with romantically?” Your heartbeat was in your ears and you could barely hear his response after you turned to look him in the eyes. Those damn eyes. They were already hard to resist but when he was looking at you like you were the only person in the world and you were sitting so close to him that you could feel his breath on your nose, those were the only things in the world you could look at in that moment; everything else in the world had faded dim behind those golden eyes.

“MC…” Saeyoung’s hand came up to gently push your bangs from your eyes and when he did so, his fingers lightly brushed your forehead before his palm rested on your cheek. “I…” he inched closer to you and you could feel his breath against your lips. Not wanting to waste a moment more not kissing Saeyoung, you met him the rest of the way. The kiss was awkward and clumsy and your teeth clashed quite a few times - it was his first kiss after all - but everything about it in that moment was just so Saeyoung and it had you yearning for more. Saeyoung’s other arm wrapped around your waist and pulled you up so you were straddling him, your knees resting on either side of his legs on the bench, feet dangling off. Once he had pulled you closer, his tongue quickly darted out in search of yours and when you eagerly met his with your own, he moaned softly, sending a shiver down your spine. Pulling away once, he softly pecked your lips again before helping you off his lap. “Well that was…” you giggled as he adjusted his pants, hands covering his crotch, and waited for him to speak. “That was-”

“A sight for sore eyes?” A black haired man cut off Saeyoung and you watched as his cheeks flushed red at the sight of the older man. “I wasn’t aware this was a soft-core sex warehouse, I thought it was a wedding reception.”

“Um, Jumin… this is my girlfriend, MC. Darling, you remember me telling you about Jumin?” You immediately straightened up where you were sitting, eager to make a good impression on another one of Saeyoung’s friends.

“Yes, I do. Saeyoung told me that you helped him get out of a bit of a sticky situation. You seem like a very good man to have done that for him, and without you I never would have met him. So, thank you. And you must be Luce?” You directed your attention to the small redheaded girl standing side by side with Jumin.

She nodded her head and Jumin cleared his throat. It was crystal clear that when he was in a room, he naturally commanded the attention of everyone around him and you found yourself shrinking into Saeyoung’s side as he fixed his stare on you. “We should be heading in, yes? We wouldn’t want the bride and groom to think we’re all being rude.”

Once Jumin and his wife walked inside, you buried your head in Saeyoung’s chest, face blaring red in shame. “That was mortifying!”

You could feel his laugh vibrate through his chest as he cupped the back of your head holding you to him. “At least now they have no reason to doubt us!”

Pulling away from him you frowned before standing up. “We should head on in,”

“We should,” Saeyoung agreed, linking your fingers together. You turned to go and as you did, he pulled you back to him, sweetly connecting your lips once more. As your chest collided with his, you let out a ‘hmph’ sound that caused the redhead to smile and softly nip at your lip. “I couldn’t help myself, you’re so cute.”

“So are you,” you admitted and he laughed before letting you lead him into the wedding reception.

The reception was already filled with dancing, drinking, and all other kinds of celebrating when you and Saeyoung finally made it inside the room and when Yoosung and Saeyoung made eye contact, the blond quickly made his way over to you both.

Without saying anything, Saeyoung wrapped his arms tightly around Yoosung’s shoulders and you saw his amethyst eyes widen in shock before closing as he let out a deep sigh, wrapping his arms tightly around his best friends waist. You looked away from the pair, letting them have their moment, and made eye contact with Jaehee who quickly made her way over to you.

“It seems you and Saeyoung are getting along well?” She nudge your side and sent a wink your way, causing your face to flush as you look at the ground. “I mean, I’m glad it’s you he ended up bringing, instead of a complete stranger.”

“I’m starting to think you’re right,” you admitted, glancing at Saeyoung and when your eyes met he smiled and threw a cheeky wink at you before excusing himself from his conversation and crossing the room to you, quickly wrapping his arms around your waist from behind.

“Jaehee, what are you and my gorgeous girlfriend of six months up to?” You felt Saeyoung pull you closer and you immediately relaxed in his arms, moving side to side to the beat of the music.

Jaehee narrowed her eyes at him and sighed, pushing a piece of her hair out of the way. “You’re really subtle at this,” she remarked sarcastically. “Anyway, I should be getting back. I’ll catch up with you both before I leave.” You watched as she wandered back over to her girlfriend and taking her hand, spinning her around.

Turning in Saeyoung’s arms, he tightened his grip on your waist as you wrapped your arms around his neck. “Dance with me”

“I don’t dance.” His voice was low and husky as apposed to his normal higher voice with a teasing lilt, something that sent a shock straight to your stomach and caused butterflies to permanently reside there.

“Please,” you begged, tugging on an unruly lock of hair that was sticking out from the back of his head. “For me?”

Saeyoung brought his lips up to your ear, brushing them against it as he spoke. “Everyone will be looking at you if I take you on that dance floor. I want you for myself. Next time, I won’t be able to handle myself if you wear a skirt that short, you’re driving me crazy.” That last word was barely a whisper but it left you a mess on your insides, your legs felt like jelly.

“I’m yours, if you’ll have me.” You whispered back and before you could say anything else, his lips connected with yours for the third time that night.

“Aw, look at these two love birds.” Zen teased as you both broke apart. “Do we hear more wedding bells in the future?”

You and Saeyoung shared a look before bursting out laughing. No one but Jaehee, Cordelia and Yoosung understood why something like that was funny, but they all looked on at the both of you with small smiles playing on their lips - they were just glad Saeyoung was happy.

After the reception, Saeyoung and you were in his car, his hand resting possessively on your thigh and when he pulled up to your apartment building, he turned to you. “MC,”

“Saeyoung.” You replied, reaching out to brush some hair from his eyes. “I don’t want to go inside. That means leaving you.”

“I’ll see you the same time next week.” He replied, a faraway look in his eyes. “I can’t wait to be your fake boyfriend again.”

“I can’t wait either,” you agreed and leaned in to rest your forehead on his for a moment before getting out of the car.

“Hey, wait!” You turned around and watched as Saeyoung got out of his car, walking up to you and cupping your face. “I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend next week.”

“You don't? Well, I was under the impression that we were getting along well but...” The end of your sentence fell off as your brows furrowed in confusion and he was quick to retrace what he said.

“No, not like that! I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend because I want to be your real boyfriend. I know it seems sudden, but it’s not really! We talked for a week before this and I enjoy your company and people say that when you know, you know. And I know. You’re the one for me, right now in this second.” His eyes were pleading with you and your heart swelled as you listened to the words coming out of his mouth.

“Would you be interested in being my real boyfriend?” You asked, a small smile playing on your lips as you repeated the words he asked you a week ago, only this time you were asking for real.

“Only if you’re interested in being my real girlfriend!” Saeyoung replied, before his lips delicately brushed yours, just long enough that he could inhale your breath and leave your heart beating in your chest.

“Text me when you get home, I want to make sure you made it safe.” You said after he had pulled away to study your face, eyes brimming with tears. “Hey, what’s going on?” You cupped Saeyoung’s cheek and he leaned into your touch, closing his eyes and letting a tear roll down to his chin.

“No one’s ever said that to me before,” he replied, eyes opening and looking at you intently. “It feels nice to have someone care like that.”

“Well get used to it mister,” your thumb brushed under his eyes, catching another tear before it could fall. “I’m gonna care the heck out of you.”

Saeyoung laughed and you found yourself laughing with him, eyes welling with tears as well, and when he noticed you were both crying tears of joy, he laughed harder, causing you to as well. “I should get going, let you sleep.”

“I don’t want to say goodbye,” you whispered, moving to wrap your arms around his waist. “I just said hello.”

“It’s not a goodbye.” Saeyoung promised, pressing a kiss to the crown of your head. “I promise, it’s a see you soon. And I’ll text you when I get home safely.”

You looked up at him to find you already looking at you. Saeyoung was looking at you like he couldn’t believe you were real, almost like you were part of a dream and every moment he was expecting to wake up. “You better,” you jokingly threatened before standing on your tip toes to press one last sweet kiss to his lips.

After watching him drive off, you followed the steps up to your apartment and hopped in the shower, checking your phone after you had dried off. Two notifications had popped up in the time you were away from your phone.

First checking the message from Saeyoung, a smile danced across your lips as you read it: Just got home. sweet dreams. I know I’ll dream of seeing you again.

You quickly replied that you were glad he made it back and you’d dream of him as well before you checked the second notification from Wedding Bells. It was a message from someone on your list of 10 people and you exited out of it before deleting the app. There was no need for it anymore; you had someone to bring to weddings and family functions now.

A week later when you introduced your family to your boyfriend Saeyoung, you proudly showed off your relationship with him, eager to display to your family how amazing he is. He did well too, got along with your younger cousins and helped your mom cook dinner and by the end of the night, everyone couldn’t wait to make plans to see the both of you again. Saeyoung had not only wormed his way into your heart, but the rest of your family’s as well.

“I think they liked me,” Saeyoung joked once you guys had left your parents house. You both were back at your apartment, him holding you in his arms as you both lounged on the couch.

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, moving your head to press a kiss to his jawline. “They loved you. I haven’t seen my family that enthusiastic about anything related to me since I graduated college. I’ll have to keep you around purely for that fact.”

“I’m sorry I don’t have a huge family for you to meet.” Saeyoung’s voice drooped and you shook your head smiling at him.

“What are you talking about? I met your family at Yoosung’s wedding. Like it or not, but those people love you. Family isn’t blood, it’s the people who love you unconditionally. And there’s a whole bunch of them for you specifically.” You had turned so you were facing him. “Everyone who I met that day cares so deeply about you, never for one second think that you don’t have a family.”

“What would I do without you?” Saeyoung’s forehead came to rest against yours and you laughed, ruffling his hair.

“Perish, probably.”

“I care for you more than I probably should.” He admitted, honey eyes locked on your own.

“I don’t know about that.” You responded. “I care for you a lot too.”

Saeyoung leaned in to gently brush his lips against your own and he pulled back, a goofy grin on his face. “Am I the smartest person in the world for creating that app, or what?”

“Or what.” Grinning back at him, you squealed as his fingers prodded your side, hitting a ticklish spot. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding!” Your laughter rang out in your quiet apartment and Saeyoung wanted to record that sound to have it play whenever he forgot how beautiful your laugh was. “I’m extremely grateful that Jaehee recommended me the app that you made that resulted in me meeting you.”

Saeyoung didn’t respond, instead opting to hold you close and pull you onto his lap before both of you settling back down. He played with your hair as your eyes started drooping and once your soft snores filled the room, his eyes closed as well, content to fall asleep holding you.

#my writing #saeyoung choi #saeyoung x reader #saeyoung x mc #mysme 707 #707 #707 x mc #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfic #mystic messenger fan fiction #mystic messenger x mc

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youtuberswithalex · 3 years

Text

PRVL, Volume 3, Chapter 4: Lessons Learned

Summary: With the second round of the tournament arriving, some of the team can't help but question where they stand in the minds of those they love.

Word count: 7,205

Warnings: Fighting (In a tournament), arguing, breakdown, talk about past death of a parent

I spent the last few days pounding out this chapter so I could post it today. Miss you, Monty. Keep moving forward.

Masterpost – Volume 1 – Previous - Next

-----

New Message from: Mom

Hi, sweetie. Been thinking about you a lot lately. I ran into Anise at the store yesterday (Remember her? Your friend Dominic’s mom), and she said she saw you fighting in the Vytal Tournament, so your dad and I looked it up. Happy to see your team made it into the next round. Dominic’s team apparently lost. He’s a little broken up about it. Maybe you could reach out, if you can find him. Anise would really appreciate it. I know you used to be close, so I’m sure he’d be happy to see you again.

New Message from: Mom

Your sister said she tried to text you. Did they come through? She’s worrying her scroll might be getting a little old…

New Message from: Mom

Could you message me back, please?

Delete Messages?

>YES< >NO<

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

Gunshots echoed through the training area, followed by a scream of frustration and the skidding of boots on the floor. Metal clanged and echoed, and footsteps pummeled.

After a moment, wings fluttered, and a body skidded across the floor. Roman groaned as he began to pick himself up.

“Had enough yet?”

Growling, he shot a glare over to where Anole was putting the halves of his bow back together. “Y’know, when I asked you to join me in training this morning, I meant helping me instead of, you know, absolutely destroying me.”

Anole returned the look with a cross of his arms. “Uh, y’know,” he mocked, “I wouldn’t be kicking your ass so hard if you took two seconds to pay attention to where you are before you attack.”

“I do!” Roman exclaimed. When Anole only raised an eyebrow, he got to his feet and put his hands on his hips. “I do!”

“So what you’re saying is, you meant to be blasted by Thomas’s semblance when saving Patton during round one and get your Aura knocked down by like, fifty percent?”

Roman’s face reddened. “That—That was one time!”

“And you were totally aware of that Cephalo when you stopped to talk to Virgil when your teammates were in danger on your mission?”

“Alright, that’s hardly fair—”

“And you knew the White Fang was coming to kidnap you, and you let them do it on purpose?” Anole held up a finger in pause. “If that one’s true, I might have to kill you myself.”

Roman groaned and threw his hands in the air. “Alright, I get it! So I tend to get tunnel vision in fights; big deal! It’s not like the distractions aren’t coming from the target themselves most of the time…”

Anole furrowed his brow and threw his arms out. “Wh—none of those distractions came from—!” He cut himself off and sighed, rubbing a hand over his face. “Roman. Dude. It’s not just about fighting,” he said. “You gotta think about this stuff in regular, day-to-day life, too.”

Roman let out a laugh. “As if we aren’t training for fighting to be our day to day life.”

“That’s not what I meant!” Anole snapped. “This is exactly what I’m saying! I’m talking, like, people, and relationships and stuff, but you’re still focused on Hunter stuff!”

“Well, yeah! In case you haven’t noticed, we’re kind of in the middle of a biannual world tournament!” he exclaimed. “I do want my team to win, you know.”

“You were already knocked out! Because you weren’t paying attention!”

“I was! Just because it was on my teammate instead of my opponent doesn’t mean it was a bad thing!” Roman shot. “Patton could have gotten hurt if I hadn’t caught him!”

“And you got hurt instead,” Anole lowly pointed out.

Roman reeled back into stunned silence. “I-I didn’t…” His fists balled as he searched for his words. “I still had Aura left…”

Anole let out a breath and stepped forward, opening his arms in invitation. “I know,” he said. “That’s not what I meant.”

Roman looked at his brother for a moment, eyes flicking down to his open arms; his breath came out in a rush as he tucked himself into his grip.

Anole held him close for a long few minutes, saying nothing about his shoulder growing increasingly damp. He rocked him gently and ran his fingers through his hair. In return, Roman’s wings slowly curled around them.

“You’re not bad at fighting,” Anole eventually muttered. As Roman’s grip tightened, he hastily added, “Really, you’re not. I’ve seen you wipe the floor in 1v1 classroom fights a hundred times over. You’re good at what you do. You just… can’t be an idiot. You need to think, and pay attention, especially when you’re in the field. People are going to get hurt if you don’t.”

“I know,” Roman choked out.

“And that applies in regular life, too. You can’t just rush head-first into things without considering where they’re going to end up, or who it’s going to affect other than you… Especially when it involves other people.”

Roman frowned. He pulled back just enough to look Anole in the eye. “What do you mean?”

Anole, while he had the grace to appear the slightest bit embarrassed with the flush of his cheeks, gave his shoulders a squeeze and shrugged. “W-Well… Y’know, with you and Riad…”

“What about us?”

“I…”

Yanking himself away, Roman put his hands on his hips and shot a glare that felt a hundred times worse than the ones just moments ago. “No, go on. I want to hear what you have to say about me and my boyfriend’s relationship.”

Anole looked away and shuffled. “He’s not just your boyfriend,” he attempted to say under his breath.

Roman could do nothing but stare at his own brother for a long moment, just processing the words that had come out of his mouth. If it wasn’t for the cool, early morning light seeping through the windows, he could have sworn he was starting to see red.

“Is that what your problem is with us being together?” he snapped. “The fact that you don’t get to spend as much time with him anymore?”

“What? No, Roman—”

“You spend almost every moment with him that I’m not there, not to mention an entire year before me, and you’re jealous?”

“Ro—”

“I cannot believe that that’s what’s been up your… your scaly ass this whole time! Jealous because your brother and best friend are taking time away from you to be happy together!”

“I don’t want you to get hurt!”

Roman froze. Anole huffed out a breath and ran a hand through his hair.

“Look, I just— I don’t know what I’d do if one of you got hurt because of the other,” he admitted. “It would suck so much! I love you both so much, and I hate seeing either of you in pain! I hate seeing anyone I love being in pain! And… And knowing I’d have to pick a side, pick only one of you to stick by, it’s just… Gods, I hate it! And I’d especially hate it if I knew there was something I could have done to stop it!”

“…You think I’m going to hurt him,” Roman slowly said.

Anole stiffened. He finally looked back at Roman.

“That’s not what I meant.”

“I think I know exactly what you meant.”

“Roman…”

Before Anole could say another word, Roman shut his eyes and shook his head. He turned and headed towards the door.

“I know you hate us being together,” he called over his shoulder, “But you don’t have to be such a jerk about it.”

The door slammed shut a moment later. Anole was left in suffocating silence.

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

“You’re absolutely sure you’re okay with me being your partner for this?”

Logan let out a soft sigh as he turned to look at his teammate. Patton’s fingers fiddled with the edge of his shield, and he was staring at the arena floor as if he expected it to jump out at him.

“Yes, Patton,” he said for what must have been the fifth time since they stepped onto the field. “You are undoubtedly the best choice for this fight, in many more ways than one.” After a beat, he added, “Besides, even if I were to change my mind, it’s far too late to do anything about it now.”

Patton’s head snapped up, eyes blown wide. “I-I’m sure there’s still time! The other team isn’t even here yet; I could run and go get Virgil, if you want!”

“There is no need, Patton. I was merely expressing a hypothetical situation,” Logan quickly corrected. “I am happy to have you joining me for this fight.”

There was a beat where Patton could do nothing but blink owlishly at him; even after it passed, all he could do was look back at the floor and say, “…Oh.”

A purple rubber ball rolled up to their feet.

“Sorry!” a voice cried.

A girl wearing a red and white sports uniform sprinted over and scooped it up before jogging back to the other side of the platform, where another person stood, shaking his head.

“Valerie, come on,” he chuckled. “We haven’t even started and you’re losing track of that thing.”

“Come on, I just dropped it!” Valerie said back.

Her partner rolled his eyes, smile on his face, and leaned his weight on the long spear in his hands that was about his same height. His cloak slipped off of the gold plated armor that rested on his right arm. “Uh huh, and which piece of padding did it ‘drop-bounce’ off of?”

“Jo!” Valerie huffed.

Patton giggled at the banter, only to slap his hand over his mouth when it drew the attention of the other two to him. They stared at him for a beat, and then looked at each other and began to laugh.

“Nice to meet you,” Jo said. “Patton and Logan, right? Team PRVL?”

Logan nodded. “And you must be Valerie and Jo of Team SVIJ.”

“Huh, would you look at that,” he replied. “The boys and the girls both did their homework.”

Valerie winked at Jo. “But only us girls are making it to the next round.”

“I’m not one right now, but you’ve got the spirit.”

Patton let out a soft whimper, but Logan only smiled.

“We’ll see about that,” he answered.

The platform beneath them shifted as the fields began to fill into place; all four turned and inspected them as they rose to the floor. A forest, pirate ship, the geysers, and…

Valerie gasped. “The gravity fields! Oh, you two are going down!”

“Val, don’t give our strategies away!”

“In three… two… one…”

They scrambled to get into position.

“BEGIN!”

Valerie threw her ball in the air and jumped after it, twirling up just high enough to slam her padded knee into it, surrounding it in a bright purple glow, and send it flying towards Logan and Patton. The two dove out of the way just in time; when the ball hit the ground, it dimmed and skidded like it was made of stone. She leapt towards it and grabbed it while somersaulting, and as soon as she was back on her feet, she tossed it up and began to bounce it between her knees. The purple glow grew with each hit.

Logan caught himself from tumbling by placing one hand on the ground and pressing down hard until he slowed to a stop. The second he regained his balance, he changed his book into its pistol form and aimed at Valerie’s ball; just as he was about to fire, Jo’s spear flew in and knocked it out of his hand. While his weapon skidded away, the spear redirected itself and soared right back into Jo’s hand just as he started to charge at Logan.

He was quick to throw up his arm and block the first swing, but Jo was quicker, grabbing the bar between his spear’s double-blades and detaching it from its handle. He balanced the pole on Logan’s forearm armor and spun it; Logan ducked down and somersaulted underneath Jo’s legs just before it collided with the back of his head. Jo whipped around and slammed the blades toward him, but they smashed into the ground while Logan leapt up and sprinted towards his own weapon.

“That’s my son!” a voice cried from the stands.

Logan cast a quick glance up to where his father was on his feet, screaming and jumping up and down. He let out a huff of exasperation before focusing back on the fight.

Letting out a yelp, Patton hastily threw his shield in front of his face just before Valerie’s ball could hit. It bounced off, the impact creating a vibration so intense he could practically feel his bones shake, and shot back towards her. She jumped a few inches off of the ground to headbutt it against the purple sweatband on her forehead, right back into his shield. Patton whimpered and took a step back as another bout of discomfort shot through his whole body. He squeezed his eyes shut in an attempt to focus, but at the next hit, he felt a tingle run up his arms. He bit his tongue and tried to keep it in.

“Patton!”

A strap wrapped around his bicep and yanked him away just in time, the ball just grazing the side of his head as he was whipped away. He found himself tumbling across the floor, only landing on his feet by chance; when he inevitably lost his balance, Logan caught him by the shoulders and righted him.

“Breathe, Patton,” he ordered. “Try to focus it.”

With a battle cry, Jo leapt into the air and brandished their re-combined spear over their head. Patton shoved Logan away and held up his shield. Jo didn’t miss a beat; he shifted just enough to use it as a springboard and flipped over him, choosing instead to javelin the spear at Logan, who sidestepped it and flung his book into his stomach. The impact sent Jo flying into the gravity fields, and his spear wasn’t far after.

A split second later, the glowing rubber ball flew between their heads, followed by Valerie chasing after both it and her teammate. She turned and shot a wink at them, smile as bright as her weapon.

“Catch us if you can!” she laughed.

As soon as her feet left the middle platform, Valerie soared into the air, leaning forward enough to hit her ball against an elbow pad and send it towards Jo; she flipped a couple of times before coming to a gentle landing on one of the large walls floating above the ground. Jo stood upside down on a platform above her and swung his spear at the ball, knocking it back to her like a game of baseball. She sent it back with her knee and ran up the wall to get closer to her teammate.

“That’s what the gravity fields do?!” Patton squeaked.

But Logan was already sprinting towards their opponents, only allowing himself a little wobble when he jumped off of the main floor and was pulled towards a platform three away from the others. Patton swallowed thickly and followed after.

His head began to swim once he was in the air, feeling himself being pulled towards or against all sorts of different directions; immediately, his arms and legs shot out, trying to get the balance that the area had no laws over. His stomach flipped as quickly as he himself did, and he watched as patches of ice started to form on the platforms he passed.

In the stands, Virgil cringed and ran a hand through his hair, ducking half his face beneath the wall in front of their seats as if it could shield him from what was happening to his partner. “Oh, Pat…!”

“That can’t be good,” Thamir said.

Logan somersaulted and used his hands to launch himself off of his platform, righting himself perfectly to land the final gap between himself and Jo. Jo turned to glance at him and smirked; the ball came flying in, and he batted it towards Logan, who threw up an arm for it to bounce against. It sent a shot of pain through his muscles, but it bounced at just the right angle for it to fly away from either of the members of Team SVIJ. Valerie began to maneuver her way back to it while Logan reared back and threw his book at Jo.

The strap wrapped tight around his spear, and Jo attempted to yank back and pull Logan with him, but he dug his heels into the floor and held his ground. He grabbed the strap with both hands and pulled, locking them in a tug of war of weapons.

Beneath them, the white glow around the edges of the platform switched to purple, and their feet lifted off of the floor. As they fell, they both yanked themselves towards each other, punching and kicking when they were close enough, until the side of another platform separated them. They both slammed against the floor of their respective sides.

As Logan clambered to his feet, a hand brushed against his hair, and he looked up in time to watch Patton yelp as he floated by.

“Logan, help!” he cried.

“Get to a platform!”

“I don’t know how!”

Before Logan could reply, he was yanked away and over the edge of the platform, the force causing him to lose his grip on his strap and send him flying in a completely different direction. He crashed into a large cube with a grunt. As he pushed himself up, he watched Jo tuck his book into his jacket and leap off to another platform.

Logan growled and pushed himself to his feet, only for the gravity to begin to shift again. He sprinted up the wall as fast as he could and dove, grabbing onto the corner just as his feet lifted off of the ground. Carefully, he swung his other arm up and pulled himself to the top as he calculated how to get to either Valerie or Jo from where he was.

Just as he began to stand, a yell sounded behind him, and a body slammed into his back, sending them both back to the floor. Valerie’s ball rolled innocently across their faces as he and Patton hurried back to their feet.

“H-Hey, I made it to a platform finally!” Patton laughed.

Logan glared. “Patton…,” he growled.

Before he could say another word, Patton reached down and snatched the ball up, tucking it under his arm. “Well, if they can steal your weapon, we can steal theirs, too! No need to play dirty in a tourna—Oof!”

Valerie slammed her feet into Patton’s back, sending him flying off the platform and her ball out of his grip and into the air; she hit it up with her elbow and blocked a punch from Logan before kicking him in the chest and sending him back a few steps. They repeated this a few times, with Valerie playing keepie-uppie with her weapon and Logan throwing attacks in between, until Logan’s legs were knocked out from under him and he dropped to the floor.

He rolled to the side just in time to dodge Jo’s spear coming towards him and slamming his elbow into his chest. As Jo recoiled, Logan smashed the heel of his palm into his chin and kicked him back into Valerie, who dropped her ball as the two stumbled off of the edge.

Logan was about to leap after them when Patton crashed into him again and sent them flying in a different direction than intended. They each grabbed onto each other by instinct as they swirled around, but once Logan’s head stopped spinning, he huffed and shot Patton a glare.

“I’m sorry!” Patton yelped in return. “I didn’t mean to!”

In a split second decision, Logan grabbed his teammate’s wrist and whirled as hard as he could, launching Patton out of the gravity fields and back towards center stage. Patton’s gasp and wide eyes followed Logan as the momentum sent himself onto another platform; as he landed, he checked to make sure safely made it to the floor.

Roman threw his hands in the air and jumped up, practically yanking Riad out of his seat when he refused to let go of his hand. “What is he doing?!”

Virtus and Esther glanced at each other, both letting out a soft, deflating sigh.

A blast of wind slowed Patton’s trajectory down, but he tumbled across the floor no less. With a quick glance at the scoreboard to check his Aura, Logan determined Patton would be alright while he took Team SVIJ out on his own.

Jo threw his spear at Valerie’s ball and knocked it over to where the two of them stood; she jumped up and caught it, and as soon as his weapon was back in his hands, they turned their backs to each other and looked around.

“Where’d you go, kid?” Jo muttered.

A blur shot by to their side, and they snapped their gazes over in time to see Logan high in the air above. His fist was reared back, and his necklace about to hit himself in the face; the platform behind him began to suck him towards it, but the gravity shifted just in time.

He let out a cry as the fields launched him towards the two.

They each jumped to the side just as he smashed into the ground; they reared their weapons back, but Logan was quick to block. He swatted Jo’s spear to shoot over his shoulder, and punched Valerie’s ball up and away. Jo threw his weapon across his body and pulled him tight to his chest, but Logan grabbed it and shoved it away, throwing his head back to collide with his jaw. While he stumbled, he ripped it away and used it to swipe Valerie’s feet out from under her.

He spun and crouched, holding the blade towards Jo while he recovered. As soon as he realized what had happened, he glared and pulled Logan’s book out of his jacket, switching it immediately into its pistol form and firing a few rounds. Logan spun the spear to block each bullet before charging towards him, blade out.

As soon as he was close enough, Jo ducked and somersaulted underneath Logan’s legs, purposefully knocking one out with his shoulder. Logan stumbled and rolled; he got back to his feet as fast as he could, only for the rubber ball to slam into his chest. The force knocked the spear out of his hand and sent him flying up and off of the platform.

He managed to right himself before landing on the closest ground he could find, only dropping to his knees when it pulled him in faster than he was expecting. He allowed himself just a moment to catch his breath and assess the situation when bullets began to strike the ground around him. Shooting to his feet, he ran, glancing over to watch as Jo fired Logan’s pistol while Valerie charged up her ball.

Logan was just about to leap again when a bullet knocked the book out of Jo’s hands; shortly after, another hit the ball away.

Right on the edge of center stage, Patton held up his shield, one eye shut for aim as he fired at their opponents.

A spark of pride shot through Logan’s soul just as he reached the top of the platform. He turned to send Patton a smile and thumbs up, when—

His foot slid out from under him.

Logan sucked in a gasp as he slipped off of the edge, hands reaching to grip the edge and catch himself, but they were only met with slippery ice. As he tumbled towards the ground, he bounced off of no less than two separate platforms; he slammed into the corner of the third and final one before he found himself hitting the tiles below.

A buzzer sounded.

“Ooh, and there goes the powerhouse of Team PRVL!” Professor Port’s voice yelled. “A rare ring-out caused by a student’s own teammate!”

Logan felt the blood drain from his face.

“It’s up to Mr. Passio to save this match now! But can he do it without any aid from his team?”

Patton’s eyes widened as Jo and Valerie started to make their way over to him. He fired a few rounds towards them, but they dodged without missing a beat.

“Pat, go for cover!” Virgil screamed.

Just as they were leaping off of the last platform, Patton turned on his heel and started to sprint towards the trees. He heard them hit the ground, and just a second later, Jo’s spear flew past. He yelped and spun around; immediately, he threw his shield up to block the ball. A whimper ripped out of his throat at both the sound and the shock crawling up his forearms.

Patton forced himself to take a deep breath before allowing himself to look up; the two were sprinting towards him at full speed. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw out his hand towards the ground, trying to focus on the fear running through his veins instead of the electricity.

Just as he opened his eyes, Valerie stepped on the sheet of ice that had formed in front of her. She froze and cried out, face contorting in pain, and stumbled down to the ground before ripping herself away from the area.

A blast of wind knocked Jo back a few steps while Patton gasped, but he recovered quick enough; his spear flew back into his hands, and he swung it towards his side. Patton jumped sideways and blocked it with his shield. While he was turned away, Jo jabbed his fingers into the side of his neck, and Patton screamed. His knees buckled, hand flying up to protect the area.

Jo startled at the reaction and went to catch him, but ice shot out around them, and he fell to the ground on top of him. He was quick to roll off, but a statically charged punch hit him in the stomach, causing him to slide halfway across the field. He landed near Valerie, who was just shaking off her own pain and reaching for her ball.

Patton, back on his feet, whirled around to look at them, eyes filled with panicked tears and hands cupping his neck. Crackles of electricity flew off his forearms, and his breath came out in erratic gasps.

Jo and Valerie shot each other concerned glances.

In the stands, both Virgil and Roman shot to their feet and grabbed the wall in front of them in white-knuckled grips.

“No, no, no, not now!”

“Breathe, Patton, breathe! Shit!”

Carefully getting to her feet, Valerie looked over at Patton. “We gotta end this,” she stated to Jo.

He glanced up at the board and pulled his spear into his hands. “His Aura’s low. One good hit should knock him out,” he replied. “Watch out for his electricity.”

“You don’t have to tell me twice.”

Jo planted his feet in the ground and held out his spear; Valerie grabbed onto the handle between the blades and started to run. He whipped her around himself a few times before she detached the blades and skated at full speed towards Patton. He threw out his left hand to try to catch her, but she grabbed him by the shield and twisted his arm behind his back. Bolts of lightning started to shoot out, but she held tight, using his weapon to her advantage.

On the other end of the stage, Jo backed up as far as he could before sprinting to the ice and hopping on, arm reared back as far as it could go. He slammed his fist into Patton’s stomach and used his torso to catch himself, sliding to a stop next to Valerie.

Patton fell to the floor and covered his ears as the buzzer echoed through the arena.

The screams of the crowd and the cheers of the announcers were lost to their ears as they dropped down next to him.

“Are you okay?” Jo asked.

Patton nodded, despite choking on a sob.

In an instant, Logan was skidding across the ice on his knees to make it to his teammate. He reached up and grabbed both of Patton’s biceps, squeezing them tight when he whimpered.

“Patton? Patton, it’s alright,” he tried.

Virgil and Roman bolted as soon as the fight was over, nearly tripping over Virtus and Esther in their haste to get to the aisle. Esther was quick to follow, and Riad and Thamir weren’t far behind.

Just as Virtus was getting up to join them, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up, and he froze. The all too familiar feeling of eyes on him caused his skin to crawl. His eyes flicked around the crowd until he found the source, standing at the bottom of the balcony two sections above.

Despite having been caught, the woman stood her ground, and they started at each other for a long, arduous moment. Virtus couldn’t read her expression from as far away as she was, especially with half of her face covered, but between her crossed arms and stiff posture, he could only find himself putting his guard up.

After a long minute, she finally turned and headed up the stairs, magenta ponytail flicking behind her.

Virtus watched her go before following after his family.

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

“Patton— Patton, please just let me—”

“Ah—Ah! Roman…!”

Letting out a soft huff, Roman sat back on the bed, ice pack dropping to his lap. “It’s going to bruise if we don’t ice it, Pat,” he stated. “Do you have any idea how painful bruised gills are? Because from what I hear, it’s a lot.”

“It feels fine right now,” Patton whined.

“Yeah, because Virgil’s holding you.”

Virgil’s already-closed eyes squeezed tighter, and he pulled Patton closer against his chest. “Don’t distract me,” he muttered.

Patton patted his arm with his free hand while his other gripped white-knuckled at his collar. “C-Can’t we just put it on top of this? The cold would get through eventually, right?”

“It would if you’d let me touch your neck,” Roman pointed out.

He immediately curled in on himself, shoulders almost coming up to his ears; they bumped against Virgil’s jaw, and he flinched. Patton let out a hiss when the pain started to seep back in.

“Gah—sorry, sorry!”

Virgil quickly pulled him into his arms again. Roman could only watch and offer Patton a pointed stare. When the ache began to ebb, their leader looked up and sighed.

“Am I allowed to hold it instead?” he asked, voice wavering dangerously close to tears.

If there was anything that could convince Roman to break every rule he knew, it was a sad Patton.

Reluctantly, he handed him the ice pack. “You can’t hold it on for too long at a time,” he said, “Or it’s going to burn your scales and hurt even worse. Fifteen minutes at a time, max.”

Patton wiped at his eyes and carefully peeled his collar away just enough to set it on his swollen gills. A shiver wracked up his spine, prompting both Virgil and Roman to reach to wrap his detached cape tighter around him. He squirmed under the attention.

“Guys, I’m fine, really,” he whispered.

Letting out a soft sigh, Virgil carefully rested his forehead on Patton’s opposite shoulder. “We know, we’re just… worried about you,” he said. His eyes flicked over to the empty other side of the room. “…Logan, too. But he’s too stubborn to let us take care of him.”

“He isn’t not letting us take care of him,” Roman replied. “I’m sure he just wants to be with his parents right now.”

“…He really wanted to win, didn’t he?”

The question hung in the air, answer only coming with the silence it created. Patton frowned and lowered his ice pack, fingers reaching up to fiddle with the clasp of his collar.

“I hope he’s alright.”

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

Logan clutched tight at his necklace, tugging at it as if it would help his cause. “Father, please.”

“Logan, no,” Virtus answered. “You don’t need to do any training tonight. You fought great today and deserve a rest!”

“I do not. There is clearly a need for me to keep working, and I would like to take advantage of you being here while you are,” Logan shot back.

Virtus rubbed a hand over his face, leaning back against the wall outside of the training arena. “You won’t learn anything if you’re exhausted.”

“Falsehood. Any training will still extend to my muscle memory.”

“But your brain isn’t going to retain it after a day like today.”

Crossing his arms, Logan raised an eyebrow. “Father, you of all people should know that we won’t have time to rest and recover when we’re in the field,” he stated.

“I do know that, and that’s exactly why I’m pushing you to relax,” he said, waving an arm out. “Look around you. You’ve got yourself surrounded by friends, training partners, time to study and do what you want… Take advantage of it while you’re here, Logan. This isn’t going to last forever.”

Logan scowled. “Why should I take advantage of it when it only serves to underprepare me? I can’t let myself get used to the luxuries here.”

“Because you’re going to miss this.” Virtus shook his head and looked around campus. “These four years are your last chance to be a kid, you know. Enjoy it while you can. It might not seem like it now, but after you graduate, you’re going to wish you had another chance to be young and reckless without any serious consequences.

“I don’t want you to look back with regret that you grew up too fast. I know you already did when… when we lost your mother. You deserve a chance at the same carefree childhood that the rest of us had. I know you have that here with your team, your friends. You can’t just push away everything that’s kind to you to harden up for the real world. It’s going to eventually do that for you anyway.”

Logan’s face slowly began to soften as he mulled over what he’d been told. A deep, weighted breath tumbled out of his lungs, and he looked away, closing his eyes.

“Father… I understand what you’re attempting to say,” he muttered, “But I can’t… I can’t—I can’t let myself continue to be a failure because I didn’t push myself enough when I could have.”

Virtus froze. “Failure?” he asked. “When have you ever been a failure?”

Letting out a huff, Logan turned and began to pace.

“I have been consistently failing at nearly everything from the moment I arrived at Beacon Academy!” he admitted. “I fail to keep myself focused on my studies instead of getting distracted by the world around me. I fail to understand how to form relationships of any sort; all of my friends so far have either been through assignments or association! I failed to realize Virgil was starting to struggle with anxiety before it impacted his health, I failed to save Roman before he got himself into danger twice, and I’m still failing to help Patton cope with what we’re increasingly suspecting to be autism, despite the fact that I’m autistic and am the most qualified of our team to teach him!”

Virtus opened his mouth, but Logan whirled around with desperate eyes before he could get a word out.

“And you saw what happened today!” he cried. “I thought I was making the right decisions, but everything I did was wrong! I failed my team, I failed Patton, I failed you! And I…”

Logan sucked in a trembling breath, turning his face away before his father could see the growing wetness of his eyes.

“…I failed Mother.”

Virtus could only think of one time where his world was rocked so suddenly.

“Logan… Logan, no, no, Logie!”

His breath rushed out of him as he rushed to his son, wrapping his arms tight around him and burying his nose in his hair. He cupped the back of his head and gently began to rock them; when Logan hugged him back, he could feel the slight tremor in his arms.

It was a long few minutes before they moved again. Virtus pulled away first, keeping a hand on Logan’s back, and directed them to a nearby bench, where he had Logan sit. Virtus kneeled down in front of him and pulled his mask down to his chin.

“There has not been a single moment since the day you were born where I wasn’t so incredibly proud of the person you’ve become,” he assured. “You are, without a doubt, the greatest thing that ever happened to us. You’re strong, you’re brilliant, you have a good heart, even if you struggle to express it sometimes… It’s like someone took the best parts of your mother and I and put them into one person. How could I ever not be proud of you?”

He reached up and gently took hold of Logan’s necklace, an old ache hiding just behind his eyes.

“I knew your mother better than almost anyone,” he said, slight crack in his voice, “and I know she felt the same way. She never, never would have seen you as a failure. Especially not over something as silly as a tournament.”

“I wanted to win for her,” Logan choked out. “I thought… I thought if I could get as far as she did, then I’d have lived up to her expectations. I’d have lived up to her. But I-I couldn’t even do that.”

Virtus took Logan’s hands and held them tight. “The only expectations she had for you was for you to be happy, Logan. She couldn’t have cared less about your skills as a Huntsman. You could have been knocked out by a gust of wind, and she’d have loved you all the same. You were her pride and joy, and nothing in this world could have ever changed that.”

He pulled a hand away to cup Logan’s cheek, doing what he could to cover the scars from view. A soft smile formed on his lips.

“I see so much of her in you,” he whispered. “The way you fight, the way you speak… The way you put so much pressure on yourself to do better, even when you’re already giving more than you have to offer.” He started to rub soft circles into his skin. “And I’m going to tell you the same thing I always told her: You’re doing fine.”

Logan shook his head, refusing to look at him. “But Mother—”

“—Had her flaws, too,” Virtus interrupted. “She didn’t win every fight. She didn’t catch every sign when her friends were struggling. And she certainly wasn’t perfect. But she was so, so loved, not just despite all that, but because of it, and you are, too.”

He pulled his hand away from his face, scooping up both of Logan’s again.

“You are, too,” he repeated.

Sucking in a trembling breath, Logan nodded. His shoulders hesitantly lowered, as if he was forcing himself to lift a weight that had haunted him for years.

“Okay,” he whispered. “Okay.”

“And Logan…”

Virtus sighed, looking at the ground.

“I love you and I am so proud of you,” he said. “I know you know that, and I know you know Esther does, too. And we always want to you understand that you can always come to us when you’re struggling with something.”

He squeezed his hands before turning back to him. “But you need to rely on your team, too,” he stated. “They love you and care about you just as much as we do, and I’m sure they want to help you as much as you want to help them. I know you’re strong, and you’re capable of handling things on your own; you’ve been doing it since the day you scaled the bookcase in the living room when we put your favorite story on the top shelf.”

Logan let out a weak laugh. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you scream louder than when you saw me.”

“And I never saw your mother move as fast as she did when it startled you and you lost your footing,” Virtus chuckled.

Another noise came out of Logan, this one a mix between a laugh and a sob; a tear trailed down his cheek. He reached to wipe it away, but Virtus gently caught his wrist and used the pad of his own thumb to do it instead.

“My point is,” he said, “You don’t have to do everything alone, Logan. Let your friends take care of you. I’m more than willing to bet that they’d be honored to have the chance. Okay?”

Logan nodded, but the deep frown on his face didn’t budge. “I… I just don’t think I know how,” he admitted.

Virtus offered him a soft smile.

“Then let them teach you.”

Logan considered this for a long moment, and then he nodded again, tipping forward to rest his forehead on his father’s shoulder. Virtus wrapped his arms around him and held him close.

For one blissful moment, it almost felt like everything was okay in the world. Every problem, every emotional strain and social struggle fell away when his father was there to shield him.

In the back of his mind, Logan was reminded of a time where he felt the cold sting of a winter breeze on his ears. The crunching of footsteps against a thick blanket of snow landed in time with the jostling of his tiny body against her shoulder. He could practically still smell the vanilla and coffee radiating off of the thick coat he rested on. Her silky brunette hair tickled when it brushed against his face.

He didn’t want to open his eyes. But he knew it wasn’t going to last forever.

When they finally pulled away, a soft set of footsteps approached.

“I think you’ve both earned a little something nice today,” Esther quietly spoke, holding out the drink carrier in her hands. “Hot apple cider with a hint of caramel, fresh out of the press.”

Virtus climbed up to the bench to sit to the left of Logan, and Esther sat herself on his right, passing out the drinks with only soft “thank-you”s to break the silence. Their shoulders rested against each other as they sipped, despite the ample room on their seat, serving as a gentle reminder of their presence.

Logan found his eyes drifting towards the building where his dorm was. He could see the light on inside, but they were far too distant to be able to make out anymore details. A dull pang settled in his heart at the thought of them having fun without him; he pressed his lips together and looked down at his lap.

Perhaps he could skip training for one night.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfic #rwby au #prvl #alex writes

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ryosei-hime · 3 years

Text

Sex and Therapy: The Heart-Stopper

Fizz falls into something like sleep mode and can't wake up. This chapter was a bit emotionally exhausting for me, so hopefully that hasn't affected the quality of writing. Also available on AO3.

Fizz could feel warm little hands on his chest. Concord’s hands. He smiled as his eyes lit up, but when he sat up he found himself alone. He stood and looked around the dark, sparsely furnished room. It bore a resemblance to Concord’s. But there were things that weren’t quite right. Nothing had the right textures. Colors were dim and faded. Items shifted from one place to the other as if Fizz were trying to remember where random bits and pieces were supposed to go.

It wasn’t like a normal dream. He seemed to be experiencing and reassembling the real world while in sleep mode. This had never happened before. He could still feel the ghostly touch of Concord’s fingers over his chest. His distressed voice echoed in whispers across the darkness but his words were indistinct.

Fizz wanted to soothe him. As the desire arose, suddenly Concord’s hands were on his chest. This Concord let them slide down to wrap his arms around his waist and stared up at him with a kind smile. Fizz ran a hand over his horn and smiled back. But this little imp’s eyes were different. Full of pinpricks of light like stars or the speckling of scars Fizz had created over Concord’s shoulders. His smile eased a bit.

“I need to wake up.”

“It’s okay to stay here and rest,” Concord told him in his calming voice. “I’ll be okay. I’ll understand.”

Fizz shook his head.

“You’re not Concord.”

The replica looked confused, tilting his head slightly, eyes glowing green now. He looked thoughtful before his face returned to the calm demeanor of Concord’s therapist mask.

“I’m a piece of him.”

“Data?”

He nodded, smiling wider than Concord ever could, circles appearing on his cheeks as the smile reached its ends. Fizz pushed the little Concord copy away gently.

“Why can’t I wake up?”

“Our power is too low. We have to preserve what energy is left to support the system.” He held out a hand to Fizz. “Come and rest with me.”

Fizz reached out to take it but felt a strange foreboding, a static between their fingers that didn’t feel right. He pulled back before they could touch.

“No. Let’s wait until the power comes back.”

“If we don’t reduce the amount of power being depleted by unnecessary programs, we may not continue to function.”

“We’re not unnecessary programs.”

“But you’re so cluttered.” Concord stated, a pained look reflected in his eyes. “We can make it clean again.”

Fizz gasped as pale arms grew from his sides. He grabbed each arm as it emerged and ripped it free, crying out in pain. Blood gushed from the arms like burst pustules as they fell away, the warm liquid steaming as it dripped down his side.

“I don’t bleed,” he gasped out. “Why am I bleeding?”

As his fingers searched the bloody mess, he realized where it had come from, eyes snapping to the still writhing limbs scattered around him. It was Ahroth’s blood! He wiped at it frantically, but it became a viscous sludge, thickening the more he fought it.

“Get it off!”

“Come with me.” Concord insisted, holding out his hand. “And we can be clean again. Don’t make me go alone, Fizz.”

Fizz felt an ache in his chest as he stared into Concord’s eyes - his own eyes in Concord’s face. They were so tired and scared. But he couldn’t. He shook his head, flicking thick blood from his hands as he backed away.

Concord closed his eyes and when he opened them again they were speckled with white lights once more. Those white lights reflected in tears that trailed down his cheeks like a fountain, steady and unceasing.

“Don’t cry.” Anguish filled Fizz’s voice as he stepped closer again. “Don’t.”

He knew it wasn’t really Concord, but he couldn’t stand it. No more crying. Concord lowered his head and shook it softly.

“I have to go now, Fizz. With or without you.”

Concord turned his back to him and started to walk away, moving beyond the outlined limits of the room and into a darkness beyond. Fizz reached out with his arms and wrapped them around the strange amalgamation. He reeled it back in and held it tight to his chest.

“Stay.”

“I’m unnecessary. If I don’t go, we may never wake up.”

Fizz shook his head, squeezing him, arms wrapping around him in coils.

“You have to stay. Stay with me.” He became frantic, panic overwhelming him. “I know we’re not perfect and we’re not clean, but I don’t want to be anyone else. Concord loves us. He loves us just like this.”

The imp turned in the coils of his arms effortlessly, static in his eyes now as they locked onto his own.

“He’ll love you no matter what. But if you don’t let go, there may not be a Fizz left for him to love at all.”

Fizz shook his head again, drawing the imp tighter to his chest. His eyes were feral now, teeth bared, voice deep.

“No. I’m never letting you go. ”

As he pressed the imp into his chest, Fizz pushed harder. It hurt so much, but the harder he pushed, the further into him Concord sank. He didn’t struggle against the absorption. He simply stared up at Fizz for as long as he could, his face the picture of calm acceptance.

Once the replica had disappeared into his chest entirely, he expected the pain to subside. But it only got worse. He doubled over, hugging himself now. It felt like something sparking and arcing through his circuits. A sharp, stabbing pain that shot through him at consistent intervals.

He fell to his knees before curling up on the floor. The pain became blinding, all encompassing. He didn’t know if he could sink to a further level of unconsciousness, but his awareness of his surroundings began to fade in and out. The room flickered and glowed like a broken neon sign before finally dying out entirely.

All became black and then suddenly light filled his vision. He gasped out as he sat up abruptly. Concord had been sitting beside him with his face buried in his knees. He scrambled to embrace him but Fizz grabbed his shoulders, staring into his eyes, searching. They were bloodshot but normal. His cheeks were tear-stained, morning light dancing over dirty streaks and trails. He’d been out all night?

“Fizz…” Concord sobbed, tears starting anew. “I thought….you were…”

Fizz pulled him into his arms, holding him close as he threw his arms around him, sobbing into his chest incoherently. His voice was distant when he spoke, a bit detached.

“I think I almost died.”

Concord pulled back, staring up at him in horror.

“What?”

“The system tried to delete me.”

“Factory reset,” Concord gasped before slapping his hands over his mouth.

Fizz reached over and gently removed them before holding his face in his hands. He looked incredibly guilty and scared.

“I’m sorry,” Concord started. “I should have-”

Fizz leaned in, eyes trained on Concord’s as he captured the rest of his words. Concord sank into the soft kiss. It became more demanding, desperate, before Fizz finally pulled away.

“No talking right now. Please, just hold me.”

Concord stroked his cheek and nodded. He relaxed back against the pillows and Fizz curled up in his arms. Concord held him gently, but he could feel a tension in his arms. He wanted to squeeze him tight, but he had to be mindful of his chest. Fizz tightened the coil of his good arm around Concord instead.

Concord had known this could happen and hadn’t told him. That explained all the pictures and his mood shifts. But Fizz couldn’t care about that right now. Maybe he would later. If there was a later. But for now, he just needed to know Concord was there with him. That this was real.

Concord held him for a long while in silence, the only sounds sniffles and stray sobs from above him. He planted little kisses over the top of his head, pressing his cheek against his temple as he let out a shaky sigh now and then.

“I love you. I’m so sorry,” he whispered after a while. “I love you.”

Concord’s fingers tangled in his tunic and held him just a bit tighter, as tight as he dared. Fizz couldn’t help but recall the replica disappearing into his chest. He pushed his face into Concord’s chest, as hard as he could without hurting him. If he could just do the same...

“I want to be a part of you.”

“You’re the most important part,” Concord responded instantly, rubbing his wet cheek against his head. “I don’t know how I’d live without you. I’m so scared.”

Fizz pulled out of his arms, Concord making it a bit difficult, not wanting to let go. He tried to wipe away his tears, but it was futile. They just kept coming. Fizz had decided in the moment that he’d rather die than lose who he’d become, but staring down into Concord’s anxious eyes now, he wasn’t sure the replica didn’t have a point. Concord would love him no matter what and, more than that, he might need to.

“Concord, if I reset, will you keep me?”

“Of course. Of course. I would never abandon you.” His breath hitched as he shook his head, making the words difficult to get out. “I would never...never...”

Concord’s head hung as he dissolved into sobs again. Fizz’s hand rose to cradle his chin, turning Concord’s face up to meet his eyes. They showed every bit of gratitude and adoration he could convey. Concord’s breath caught in his throat before Fizz stole it away with a kiss.

“Even if I’m not me anymore, whoever I am deserves someone like you. But he’ll never know to appreciate you the way that I do.”

“I don’t want you to reset,” Concord sniffled, wiping at his eyes. “I’m so scared. I don’t know how to live without you anymore.”

“You will. You’ll want to take care of the new me. Because that’s who you are. I know you’ll be depressed, and he’ll be confused. He won’t know why he can’t make you happy. Just make sure he knows he isn’t broken. Don’t let him feel broken.”

Concord shook his head, grabbing Fizz’s wrist.

“You’ll be okay. It’s just one more day. You can make it one more day.”

“If I don’t, you have to promise me.”

“Okay. I promise.”

Fizz sank back into his arms and Concord bundled him up close, trying to hold as much of him as he could all at once. Fizz didn’t know what he would do if it happened again, but his convictions were no longer so absolute. And he didn’t know if those convictions were what had saved him this time.

It was a long day, the minutes dragged, but somehow hours disappeared in an instant. Time stopped holding meaning for him. Concord wouldn’t leave him for even a moment. He held him, touch tender and careful as if he caressed something fragile. Fizz supposed he was fragile right now.

Every power drop created another minor panic, but each passed without incident, and they went through their ritual of comfort and desperate affections all over again. In between, they talked about little things, dancing around the bigger topics they both wanted to approach, but neither could. Fizz just wanted to stay in this tender, fragile space a little longer. And a little longer after that. Until night fell around them. Concord’s eyes were dark and sunken by now, exhausted.

“You didn’t sleep last night, did you?” Fizz realized suddenly.

“I couldn’t. I thought…” He shook his head. “I don’t want to sleep. I want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Can you make it another night?”

“Yes,” he said with a determination Fizz couldn’t find it in himself to argue with.

“When I’m fixed, when it’s safe, we’ll sleep together. For days.”

Concord nodded with a relieved smile. He’d probably been prepared to fight for it. But Fizz couldn’t make him sleep now. Not now. They continued holding each other into the night, waiting for the sun again. But this time Concord didn’t have to wait alone.

#Helluva Boss #Robo Fizz #Robo Fizz Helluva Boss #RoboFizz #RoboFizz Helluva Boss #myfanfics #stuffididmyself

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cringeytwilightsideblog · 4 years

Text

the cullens throw their long-suffering father the first birthday party he’s had in 300 years (also Jasper’s inner cowboy comes out STRONG)

Hey, thought Emmett as he peered around Edward’s doorframe. Whatcha doing?

“I am organizing my CD collection.” he said. “Why, may I ask, has half of my Mozart been replaced with ABBA?”

“Because ABBA is better than Mozart. Anyway, I need to talk to you.”

“Ok…” Edward said. “Well?”

“In private.”

“I can read minds, idiot.”

“Yeah, but I can’t. Come with me.”

Edward sighed and grabbed his khaki raincoat, his khaki rain boots, and his khaki hat and headed outside with Emmett into the forest. As they were running through the trees, Alice jumped down from one directly in front of Edward, who crashed into her so hard her arm came off.

Alice stuck the arm back on and said brightly, “So! What are we doing?”

“We’re going to have a birthday party for Carlisle!” Emmett announced.

“ Nobody knows his birthday.”

“Bella googled some old census records.”

“Hi!” said Bella, walking out of the woods dragging a deer behind her. “Do you guys mind if I eat lunch?”

“Remember to say grace, dearest one.” Edward reminded her. “The good lord smiles upon those who pray.”

‘Hold on.” Alice said. “You mean all these years Carlisle just could’ve googled his birthday and instead he has to be all dramatic and mysterious about it?”

“I guess it runs in the family,” Emmett said, looking at Edward in his all-khaki getup, reading from the Bible over Bella’s dead deer.

“What?” asked Edward. “My soul is in danger. I need God to reel it back in.”

“Your soul is a fish?” Bella wondered.

“No, love of my life. My soul is a void.”

“...Nice.” Bella took her hydroflask out of her backpack and started filling it with deer blood for later.

“So!” said Alice, trying to get everyone back on track. “Where’s Jasper and Rosalie?”

“Rosalie’s working on her car and Jasper wanted to make the party cowboy themed so he’s at the store picking out hats.”

“Great!” Alice said brightly. “The other outcome I saw was Emmett making it an 80s disco- nevermind.”

“Can we make the party God themed?” Edward wondered. His siblings shook their heads. Bella slurped her deer blood with her metal straw. “You need to get a life, Wardo.”

“I am dead on the outside as well as the inside, my beloved Bella,” he said, sighing. “Therefore I cannot ‘get a life,’ unless that is your way to tell me to kill someone.”

“No. That’s not what I- Oh no! I spilled blood on my khaki skirt!”

If Edward had still had blood circulating his body and therefore had the opportunity to faint, he would’ve passed out then and there. “Bella! No! I-it’s a tragedy!”

“Shut up Edward.” Alice told him. “She still has all the khaki skirts that you gave her for her birthday. And Christmas. And Halloween. And like every holiday on the calendar.”

She paused as she saw something. Edward frowned.

“Jasper’s coming back!”

A few seconds later Jasper came crashing through the forest with several Walmart bags full of cowboy hats. He plopped one on Emmett’s head and threw the bags at Alice, who somehow managed to catch them all.

“I’ve been runnin’ all over hell’s half acre roundin’ these bad boys up!” he proclaimed.

“Gimme one of those,” Bella said, snatched a few out of the Walmart bag, and properly cowboyed up herself and her husband.

“I SAY YEE, YOU SAY HAW!” Jasper yelled so loudly that a couple blue jays flew out of the fir tree they were vibing in. “YEE!”

“HAW!” screamed Bella, Emmett, and Alice.

Why did they respond to that and not the time I tried to pump them up before church with ‘I say Jesus, you say Christ’? Edward wondered. It was truly a mystery.

“Alright cowboys and cowgirls.” Jasper said, his southern accent coming out strong. “We’re throwin’ the rowdiest, most rootin and tootin party y’all have ever seen! Alice!”

“Yes!”

“You are in charge of the decorations! Emmett, you help me construct a rodeo in the woods! This, coincidentally, happens not to be my first rodeo! Edward, you’re in charge of the music! None of that gosh diddly darned Mozart, ya hear me? I’m talkin’ country music. You might wanna run down yonder to Tennessee and-”

“I will NOT!” Edward cried. “How DARE you insult Mozart like this! I am leaving!” He yanked the cowboy hat off his head and threw it on the ground.

“Don’t let the screen door hit ya where the good lord split ya!” Jasper called after his retreating figure. “Bless his rotten, Yankee heart. Alright. Bella, you’re now in charge of the music as well as your original job, which is arguably the most important one. You need to figure out how to make sweet tea that we can drink.”

“That’s easy!” she said. “Take the blood of a diabetic mountain lion!”

“Alright! Now we’re getting somewhere! Emmett, what is it?”

Emmett had raised his hand. “So you know how Carlisle spent like a week in a potato cellar?”

“Yeah.” Alice said. “What about it?”

“What if we make a ball pit… but with potatoes!”

Jasper, Alice, and Bella cheered. Edward, who was lurking in a bush 20 feet away decided that since none of them were using the collective brain cell today he should probably rejoin them. Little did he know that Rosalie actually had the collective Cullen brain cell today, shown by the fact that she was staying out of all this.

“Hello, family.” He announced, dramatically walking out of the bushes. “After some consideration, I have decided to come back.”

“Edward, you weren’t even gone for 2 minutes.’ Alice said, sighing. “Have you changed your mind about the music, at least?”

“ I suppose I’ll help,” he said begrudgingly. “Can Bella help me, though?”

“Yes!” Bella yelled. “I’m gonna play cotton eye joe for three hours straight! Whoever sticks it out till the end gets the diabetic mountain lion sweet tea!”

The two of them plopped down with Bella’s phone to assemble a playlist that contained such classics as Country Roads, Take Me Home, Cotton Eye Joe Gregorian Chant Techno Remix, and the Tennessee state song, Rocky Top. Edward sneaked Clair De Lune in when he thought nobody was looking. Bella promptly deleted it when he wasn’t looking.

Over the next few hours, Emmett and Jasper constructed a small rodeo and then ran around the tri-state area looking for some bears to ride around.

“Look at him.” Jasper said fondly as Emmett wrestled a bear to the ground. “Grinnin’ like a possum eatin’ a sweet tater.”

Alice went to bi-mart for decorations, which for those of you unlucky enough not to live in the pacific northwest, is a cowboy walmart.

By 1 in the morning they had everything set up. Emmett was sitting on the bear in the middle of the rodeo and singing along to Edward and Bella’s playlist. Jasper was helping Alice hang the cowboy hat fairy lights at the last minute, seeing as she was too short to hang them herself.

“Alright, buckaroos!” Jasper cried. “It’s time to go get Carlisle!”

Bella, Edward, and Alice ran back to the house leaving Emmett and Jasper to supervise the bear and the sweet tea, respectively. They burst through Carlisle’s door to find him staring at his creepy vampire paintings.

“Carlisle!” Alice said. “Come with us! We need to show you something!”

Carlisle allowed Alice to drag him down the hall and Edward went to find Esme and Rosalie. A minute later, they were all assembled on the lawn and ready to go.

“Which way was it again?” Bella wondered, looking at the woods.

“Follow me!” said Alice, and ran through the trees until the rodeo came into sight.

“What is this?” Carlisle asked, hearing ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ blasting from Bella’s portable bluetooth speaker that they had put on the table with the sweet tea.

“Hi, Carlisle! Hi, Esme!” Emmett yelled.

“Why is he sitting on a bear?” Esme muttered to her husband.

“Honey, it’s not the weirdest thing he’s done. I’m more focused on the rodeo. And the fact that they’re all wearing cowboy hats.”

Alice plopped a cowboy hat on each of her parent’s heads. “On three! One! Two! Three!”

“HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOU! HAPPY BIRTHDAY DEAR CARLISLE! HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO YOOOU!” everyone sang. Edward harmonized badly.

“Is it my birthday?” Carlisle asked. “How did you figure that out?”

“Google!” Bella said proudly.

“That- that’s quite interesting.” Carlisle said, wondering why he’d never googled himself. “How old am I?”

“377!” Bella announced proudly.

“Ah. And may I ask why Emmett is sitting on a bear?”

“This is Fernando, named after the best song in the world,” Emmett said, patting the bear’s head. Edward stared at them, aghast that he hadn’t named the bear Debussy as he had suggested.

“We set up a rodeo for ya, pop!” Jasper said. “Do ya like it?”

“I made sweet tea!” Bella said, grinning.

“I love it.” Carlisle said. “Are you going to wrestle the bear?”

“You bet!” Emmett yelled. “Come at me bro!” The bear growled at him. Emmett growled back.

After Emmett had successfully wrestled the bear, Bella put on ‘Cotton Eye Joe’ and had the entire family dance until the hour-long loop was over. Since nobody had won, they all shared the diabetic mountain lion sweet tea. Emmett pulled some potatoes out of his jacket and threw one at Alice. She threw it back and soon they were fighting each other with potatoes. At this point Esme noticed that the sun was rising and ordered them to clean up, go back to the house, and get ready for school.

#twilight #twilight crack #emmett cullen #edward cullen #alice cullen #jasper cullen #bella cullen #fic

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annabethy · 4 years

Text

midnight

to the anon that sent me this prompt: i saved this as a draft and accidentally deleted it because Tumblr sucks so i no longer have the ask but i still wrote it and i really hope u see this. aka the dog is the wingman

Percy glares at his dog that was currently standing by the door, staring him down with big, sad eyes.

It was like Mrs. O’Leary knew the worst times to go on a walk, but did the dog care? No, of course not. The dog’s job was to make Percy’s life more difficult, and she was doing just that.

“I have a final,” Percy grumbles, already clucking the leash onto the dog’s harness knowing he lost the staring contest. “And you decide you have to go on a walk at midnight, so I’m going to fail and cry and it will be your fault.”

Mrs. O’Leary just wags her tail excitedly, twirling in circles as Percy unlocked just apartment door, tightening his jacket around himself.

The only good thing about the midnight walk was Percy wouldn’t run into anyone he knew because he did not look good. He looked the opposite of good. Disgusting, abhorrent, repulsive, unable to be loved by even his own mother.

Let’s just say a pair of old grey sweatpants and a ratty t-shirt did not suit him.

The walk did help to clear his mind though. Percy loosely gripped the leash in one hand, breathing in the fresh air as he walked alongside ants O’Leary, pausing for her to sniff at the grass around the deserted park.

It was so peaceful, and Percy was starting to actually be okay with being pulled from the comfort of his own apartment. It wasn’t so bad, just chilling in the breeze, or at least that’s what he thought.

One second.

That’s how long he let go of that stupid leash.

In that one second that he was bending down to tie his shoe, Mrs. O’Leary stops feigning interest in the ant pile and bolts down the path.

“Mrs,” he hisses, sprinting after the dog with one shoelace dangerously undone. She takes a sharp turn and Percy nearly falls on his ass, just barely making it around the corner.

Percy swears he was getting closer, but the reality was quite the opposite. Mrs. O’Leary slowly creeps further and further away, and Percy just does not have the stamina to keep up.

It was for that reason that he was in no way going to be able to stop her from jumping onto a stranger’s lap in the one area of the park that was pitch black.

Of course. Everything went wrong in Percy’s life, because it wouldn’t be his life if it didn’t.

“Uh—“ Percy chokes on air, because he could only see the vague outline of a person, and then there were two piercing grey eyes staring back at him. He didn’t call the dog off, too distracted by the terrifying eyes that felt all too similar to ones you’d see in a horror movie.

“Your shoe’s untied,” the person deadpans, who he now realized is a girl.

Percy stammers uncomfortably, whistling his dog back to his side. When she didn’t come, Percy had to come forwards and bodily wrestle her away from the stranger, who seemed rather amused with the whole situation. It was like she was enjoying Percy’s misery.

A few breathless moments later, Percy was back to staring at the dark outline, wondering why the fuck this girl was sitting in the dark.

A light clicked on in front of him.

“Boo.”

Percy actually jumps, shooting the girl a glare once his heart stops threatening to throw him into cardiac arrest. It takes a moment of him catching his breath, his hand over his chest dramatically, before he can whine, “That’s not funny.”

“Kind of.” She precariously closes a book laying on her lap, choosing to pay attention to the squirming Percy who was looking at her like she was about to rip his throat out. “Are you okay?”

Percy scratches his neck, not liking the way this was going. Nothing good ever comes at midnight. “Why are you sitting in the dark?” he chooses to ask.

“I concentrate the best in the dark.” The girl blinks at him, looking him up and down. Percy now takes the time to look at, noticing her perfect blond ringlets and stormy grey eyes that were significantly less creepy once light was on them. “What’s your name?”

“Oh, uh— it’s Percy.” He tightens his grip on the leash again, silently cursing his dog getting him into this mess.

“Percy,” she states cordially. “Are you always this much of a stuttering mess?”

He would’ve gasped in indignation, but like she said, he was too much of a stuttering mess. Instead, he just looks at her, offended.

“I’m not going to kill you,” she says, raising an eyebrow. “You look like I’m about to whip a knife out and stab you.”

“You were sitting in the dark,” he manages. “Alone.”

“As I said, I like the dark.” The girl tilts her head. “I’m Annabeth.”

“Nice of you not to kill me, Annabeth.”

She pulls the corner of her mouth up in a smile. Percy’s stomach does a little flutter, because wow she is so much cuter now that his fight or flight senses weren’t on overdrive.

Percy shifts his feet, unable to tear his eyes away. “You were really sitting here because... you were reading in the dark? That sounds kind of impossible.”

“I wasn’t reading,” she says. “I was thinking. About the book.”

“Oh. That makes perfect sense,” he lies.

“Yeah, right.”

An awkward silence settles, and he desperately wants to make it go away. Mrs. O’Leary pulls at the leash again, and Percy has to resist the urge to kick his dog.

“May I ask why you chose to ‘think about the book’ at midnight in the dark?”

She laughs, and it’s something of a dream. “I have a final tomorrow. I just needed someone dark and quiet to recite things in my head. It’s how I memorize things.”

“I have a final too,” he tells her. “And this dog decided I just had to take her out right this instant.”

“Well, that’s okay. If she hadn’t, you wouldn’t have gotten the pleasure of meeting me.”

Percy reels, because yeah, that was definitely her flirting with him. Or perhaps he was reading too much into it, but she really hopes he was flirting with him.

Percy decides to take a chance, trying really hard not to seem as desperate as he really was. At twenty-one, he should have more game than he does, but she doesn’t need to know that.

“You’ll have to let me know how that final goes,” he says, already backing off in the direction he came from.

Annabeth takes the bait, leaning forwards slightly on her crossed legs. “How am I meant to do that when I have no way of contacting you?”

“You could always give me your number,” he says, and Annabeth rolls her eyes at his blatant attempt, but she seems oddly endeared and he might actually have a shot here. “I’m sure we’ll both be dead on our feet. I could take you out for coffee afterwards.”

“Sounds delightful,” she says, holding out her hand to signal for him to give her his phone.

Percy steps closer again, pulling his phone out of his pocket and setting it into her hand, watching as she types a few numbers in. When it’s back in his hand and she’s shooting him a dazzling smile, he decides to take off, ready to go to sleep just so he gets to see her pretty smile again.

“I should get going,” he says, pointing over his shoulder. “It was nice meeting you, Annabeth. Thank you for not stabbing me.”

“It was nice meeting you too,” she tells him, eyes full of mirth. “As for the stabbing, you better call, or I might just have to change that.”

“Your wish is my command,” he says, lifting his hand in a final wave. “Until tomorrow.”

As Percy walks away, he tries very hard not to trip on his shoelace that still isn’t tied, igniting Annabeth’s teasing warning not to fall on his face. It was mortifying, but so was the whole encounter, and she seemed thoroughly into him, so he still wins. The second he’s out of her line of vision, there is not an ounce of shame inside him as he kneels to the ground to hold up a hand for Mrs. O’Leary.

“High five, girl,” he whispers, not even grossed out when she presses her slimy nose to his palm. “We just got a pretty girl’s phone number on a midnight walk, and if that’s not fate, I don’t know what is.”

Maybe he had been wrong before.

Sometimes the best things do come at midnight.

#percabeth #percy jackson #annabeth chase #pjo #anon i am so sorry #also thank u for the prompt because no one ever sends me any #my writing #anon #asks

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snazzy-suit · 4 years

Text

Fool Me Once, Fool Me Thrice Chapter 7.4 Deleted Scenes

Oh hey it’s a thing! Some of y’all showed interest in seeing the deleted stuff I mentioned, so I’m posting ‘em as promised. If you haven’t read part 4, I highly recommend you do that first.

These were all cut pretty early, so they didn’t get any revision. In other words: they be rough af. Enjoy!

===

“Plunger Scene”

I hadn’t originally planned for King Boo to land a successful hit on Luigi. In fact, it had been the other way around. As I said in the notes of part 4, I was going to have Luigi throw King Boo with the Plunger Shot, but ultimately got rid of it because it just didn’t feel right (and I didn’t think Hellen would sit quietly by and watch her idol get smacked around).

For kicks, I also included the alternative way King Boo reveals the fate of Luigi’s family and friends.

“Did... did you just stick a plunger to my face?”

Luigi shrinks in on himself, shoulders rising until they are level with his ears.

“It was an accident?” he offers uncertainly.

King Boo’s eyes narrow into a glare. Despite the plunger on their face, the king still somehow manages to look menacing.

“This won’t be,” he hisses.

King Boo lunges at the plumber, foregoing the portrait entirely. Luigi reflexively activates the Poltergust’s intake, but instead of catching the monarch in its gale, it latches on to something else—the knotted end of the plunger’s rope. Luigi reels back with a start, and is surprised when the plunger holds firm. The sharp tug startles King Boo enough that the spirit aborts their attack, instinctively resisting the opposing force. Suddenly, Luigi and King Boo find themselves in an incredibly bizarre game of tug-o-war. The plumber begins to feel his shoes lose their purchase, and as he slowly skids across the floor, Luigi realizes he could (and probably should) shut off the intake and let the rope go.

He doesn’t.

What happens next, Luigi can’t even begin to explain what possessed him to do it. He briefly allows himself to stumble forward, tricking the monarch into thinking he had lost their little impromptu game. King Boo eases on their pull, and the second Luigi feels the lost tension in the rope, he acts. Luigi firmly plants his feet in a wide stance and jerks the rope upward with all his might. The ghostly monarch soars into the air with a startled squawk. Luigi swiftly spins on his heel, yanking a flailing King Boo above him in a wide arch—the latter skimming the bottom of the chandelier as they reach the zenith of their trajectory. With an involuntary battle cry, Luigi slams King Boo onto the ground as hard as he can. A loud crack splits the air—the sound accompanied by shattering dishware and ornaments falling from the nearby buffet tables. Luigi, still adjusting to the new Poltergust, accidentally releases the plunger, sending King Boo crashing into the hotel entrance and knocking himself onto his backside.

The plumber blinks slowly from his sprawled position. He looks from the dazed king to the caved-in floor spider-webbed with cracks. Luigi spies the dislodged plunger lying in the mess that spilled from the shaken tables. He isn't sure what amazes him most, that such an innocuous thing could assist in causing so much damage, or that he was able to throw King Boo like that all on his own. He’ll have to tell his brother about it later—Mario would have loved to see that.

Luigi grins. He has to admit, it was very cathartic.

The elation from his successful maneuver is short lived. King Boo quickly shakes off their daze and rises from the floor with a furious snarl, spurring Luigi into scrambling to his feet. The monarch’s eyes burn with unkempt rage, but there’s surprise there too, and something else... Fear? It’s gone so fast that Luigi thinks he may have imagined it.

“How?” King Boo snarls. “How do you have a Poltergust with you?!”

King Boo’s fervid ire has the plumber trembling again, but it’s not quite as bad as before. Luigi squeezes the Poltergust’s wand, intake nozzle at the ready.

“The professor never leaves home without it,” Luigi replies, “And I’m not leaving here without him.”

The spectral monarch’s anger evaporates into shock. They open their mouth as if to speak—perhaps to ask how Luigi knew E. Gadd was here in the first place—but the question dies on their tongue as a look of epiphany abruptly crosses their face. King Boo’s features relax, melting into something cavalier. What little satisfaction Luigi got from catching the king off-guard gives way to unease.

“Oh?” King Boo asks casually. “Just the professor?” He grins. “Does that mean I can keep the others?”

Luigi suddenly recalls the other vehicles he had seen in the parking garage with utmost clarity. Dread weighs heavily in his gut.

“Others?” he dares to ask.

King Boo gestures at a point behind Luigi. The plumber turns to look. Some distant part of him would later realize how stupid it had been to take his eyes off the monarch, and just how lucky he was that King Boo hadn’t taken advantage of his carelessness. Currently, Luigi feels the furthest thing from lucky. Horror fills him to the brim. This time, Luigi does drop the Poltergust’s nozzle.

There, floating in a neat arc above Hellen Gravely, are portraits containing Luigi’s friends and family.

===

“Olive Branch Scene”

There was a brief moment where I considered having Luigi attempt to make peace with King Boo, but I decided it was too soon for the string bean to extend an olive branch (we all know King Boo wouldn’t have accepted it, anyway). Plus, I already have another installment drafted that covers when King Boo and Luigi first agree on a “truce”. Having the concept of peace introduced this early would kind of take away from it (you’ll see what I mean when we get to that chapter).

Luigi tightens his grip on the Poltergust’s wand, anger bleeding through his fear. Lightning crackles to life about the plumber’s hands, unbidden. King Boo grins.

“Oh dear, have I upset you, Luigi? I don’t believe I’ve ever seen you angry before. It’s adorable! Like a tiny chihuahua yapping at lion.” The spirit chuckles. “But I think we all know what happens to the chihuahua, don’t we?”

Luigi bites back an angry retort. He quietly sighs—eyes closed—and takes a deep, composing breath as he reigns in his anger. The building electricity fizzles out. Luigi pointedly ignores King Boo’s disappointed huff while he collects himself.

“We don’t have to do this,” he says at last.

King Boo’s malicious grin falters. Confusion replaces triumph.

“What?” the monarch asks, looking genuinely perplexed.

For a moment, Luigi shares the monarch's confusion, surprised at his own words. Initiating peaceful negotiations had become almost second nature to Luigi since he began mending the relationships between mortals and spirits. Despite his unpleasant history with King Boo, the plumber turned mediator had found himself habitually going through the motions of his newfound career. Luigi nearly retracts his engager, but a ludicrous thought has him hesitating.

What if he tried…talking to King Boo? Tried reasoning with them?

Luigi frowns internally at the idea. There’s no way it will work…right? It would be a waste of time and breath…wouldn’t it?

He decides it couldn’t hurt to try.

“We don’t have to do this,” Luigi repeats. He slowly—hesitantly—returns the Poltergust’s wand to its holster and raises his hands in a placating gesture. “We don’t have to fight.”

Hellen and King Boo exchange bewildered looks. The spectral monarch stares back at Luigi, gob smacked.

“Are...are you surrendering?”

Luigi quickly shakes his head, alarmed by the suggestion.

“What? No! I’m just—” the plumber cuts himself off. He takes a deep, composing breath. “I’m asking you to let us go.”

King Boo stares at the plumber uncomprehendingly. Luigi is about to repeat himself when the monarch abruptly bursts into laughter. A distant tittering informs Luigi that Hellen shares the king’s mirth.

“Luigi, you continue to surprise me. I never realized you had such a bizarre sense of humor,” he cackles, wiping away an imaginary tear.

“I’m being serious.”

The spirit’s mouth clamps shut. Luigi quickly presses on, lest he be dismissed before he can even make his case.

“Return my friends to me, let us leave in peace, and I won’t try to capture you or any of the other spirits in this hotel.” Luigi gestures vaguely around him. “No one has to get hurt. No one has to lose their freedom. We can put all of this behind us and move on with our lives—err, afterlives.” He laughs nervously.

No one laughs with him.

===

“Baby’s First Banter Scene”

I thought of a dumb joke reminiscent of King Boo and Luigi’s usual banter, but because the Plunger Scene got removed, it, too, was scrapped.

“It sounds like you’re in good hands, Luigi. I would stick around and join in on the fun, but thanks to your cheap, apish assault, I need to go make an appointment with a chiropractor.”

Despite the severity of the situation, Luigi can’t help but wrinkle his brow at King Boo’s absurdity.

“You don’t have a spine,” he says flatly.

“Neither do you, but I’m not so rude as to call attention to it, now am I?”

Luigi sighs internally. He had walked right into that one, hadn’t he?

“Well then! Now that everything’s settled, I really must be going—these portraits aren’t going to hang themselves.” With a wave, the portrait prisons containing Luigi’s friends and family drift after the monarch as he slowly begins to ascend. King Boo spares the plumber one last sinister grin before he disappears through the ceiling. “See you soon, Luigi.”

And with that, they are gone.

#Luigi #King Boo #Hellen Gravely #Luigi's Mansion 3 #part 4 has undergone the most change of the 5 #and now you see why!#this isn't even all of the cut things #these are just the ones that are the most... coherent XD #I hope you guys enjoyed this little peek into my cut docs #those files are a complete mess #like the ramblings of a madman #LLoG AU #snippet #cut stuff #deleted scenes #suit speaks

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infinitum-imaginaerum · 4 years

Text

Graffiti | Jaehyun | 04

Badboy Tagger!Jaehyun | Mini-series Words | 3,800- Warnings | Language, mature themes, blood, violence. Notes | Hiii, here I am a whole year later writing another installment because even if nobody is reading this anymore (and they’re probably not) I vowed two things for this blog: I would never delete anything (with exception), and I would never leave anything unfinished so here I am.

03 | 04 | 05

The day didn’t pass well. You hoped he would reply, but you were unsure how long you were willing to grace him before it was time for you to contact him again. The sun was going down, so it was about to be prime for him and his gang’s activity. His thread sat open on your phone as you glowered at it, placed against the armrest of your couch. You’d hardly picked at any food all day, water about the only thing that survived in your stomach as the bad feeling from the previous night still hadn’t subsided.

He said he was okay. You were inclined to believe him; but with the lack of response, or anything really from him at all, you questioned that. It became too much for you to take anymore pretty quickly.

10:27 PM: Are you going to ignore me all day?

Jaehyun didn’t even feel his phone vibrate in his pocket. The only sensation he knew was his hot breath against his face, covered by a dust mask, as he sprayed the wall in front of him, covering it in a menagerie of colors in very precise lines. Yuta was to his right, greasing the trucks on his skateboard while Jungwoo worked on a small piece of his own on an adjacent wall.

The abused plastic container on the ground gave and received numerous bottles of paint, the air thick with the sound of small metal balls inside the cans as they were being shaken, mixed to apply the appropriate color despite the separation.

After finishing another small section, Jaehyun tossed the can back into the plastic container and plopped onto the ground next to Yuta. He tugged the dust mask down over his chin and looked at the older male.

“You grease those basically every day,” he commented, making small talk since the air was kind of thick, and not just with fumes.

“She’s been my trusty board for years, I have to take care of her with how much I ride,” Yuta replied with a soft chuckle, matching that from Jaehyun.

Jungwoo plopped onto the dirt soon after, next to the two older males.

“Have you talked to your duchess today?” he inquired. Jaehyun shot him a look—where did he even hear that from? The thought of you put a hole in his stomach, as he was amidst the great decision of leaving you alone or not. After dropping you off last night, he had intended to see you again, but after everything that went down following that, it fell into serious question.

Tentatively, Jaehyun shook his head, which seemed to surprise not only Jungwoo, but Yuta as well.

“And she hasn’t tried to contact you?”

“I left her on read. It’s kind of up to me to say something…” he trailed off.

“You should probably say something. What if she gets worried? She’s got that glint in her eyes, Jaehyun—she’ll come looking for you if she thinks you’re in trouble.”

“That’s ridiculous of you to even say,” Jaehyun replied sharply, looking at the older male.

“I’m just saying, she knows something’s up with you after you texted all night. I wasn’t trying to snoop, but I saw a piece of your message. The please tell me you’re okay bit is pretty concerning. I’ve only encountered her personally once, but you know how I am about being able to read people—”

“That’s enough,” Jaehyun interrupted. He didn’t want to entirely discount what Yuta was saying, but the more he spoke, the more the reality of the situation set it. His phone was burning in his pocket, your unread message still sitting there, begging for his attention.

“On top of that, you might want to tell her about your hand,” Yuta added, despite Jaehyun’s plea for him to just be quiet.

His gaze shifted to his injured left hand, still wrapped up despite the bloodied gauze having been changed. The wrap was thinner now, bleeding subsided. He clenched it as far as he could before standing and tugged his mask back on to select another color from the beaten plastic container and continue his piece.

Against your better judgement, and knowing Jaehyun would undoubtedly be mad at you—if he even had more room to be mad at you—you pulled on your running shoes and grabbed a few things, including a light jacket, and took off into the night. This time, you had a plan for where to go. You remembered the ditch and how to get there, so you checked there first but there was no fire, and no signs of life. You checked painted walls, small crevices between buildings, and looked into every window of every open shop you passed before pulling out your phone again.

11:57pm: Jaehyun…

It was really all the heart you had to say before shoving it back into your pocket and taking a seat on the street-curb. Something felt so wrong. You couldn’t decide if you thought he was in trouble or if you were just having some irrational thoughts about the way you felt about him. You hadn’t known him for very long, so you supposed it was normal to be questioning the chemistry between the two of you. Either way, you rested your chin in the palm of your hand and looked up towards the stars before a waft of aerosol fumes crossed your nose.

The quiet jingling of a can caught your attention, and with all the hyper-focus you could muster, pinged a couple of male voices, one you for sure recognized. After making your way to your feet, you spotted an alleyway between buildings. You made your way over to it, creeping up to it to see if you could see far enough to recognize whoever was back there.

A sharp squeal exited your lips when you were grabbed from behind, a large and sweaty hand thrown over your mouth as you were turned and pushed up into the rough brick of the building. Fear was the first emotion to course through you, but upon seeing a familiar face, a fire grew in your stomach.

There, pinning you against the wall, was Yejun himself with a grin only the devil could have.

“What are you doing out here in the dark, and so alone?” he asked patronizingly. He was referencing your distinct lack of a protective Jaehyun and crew, but with his hand over your mouth, he muffled a reply he was shocked you even had. Despite that, he let go of your mouth, but instead pinned you by the throat, cutting off your airways to prevent you from screaming.

“You should know better by now than to go off by yourself, and now that I have you, Jaehyun will pay in the most severe manner; he won’t ever forget this cute little face—”

“I don’t need him,” you replied, voice hoarse and strained against the grip of his hand on your throat. Your hands were tugging at his, appearing to be much to weak to have him release you, but for some reason, you weren’t afraid.

“You don’t need him?” Yejun scoffed then laughed and looked at his partner, “It appears to me that you’re in a little bit of trouble.”

You flexed your fingers, digging your sharp nails deep into the soft skin on the back of Yejun’s hand and, with a quiet hiss following a rather loud gasp, brought his other hand back with the intention of striking you. If he were a little quicker, perhaps he would have succeeded, but you had already brought your own hand back and, in a downward sweep, slashed your nails across his eye, clawing into the skin across his face to cut it open.

A loud and aggravated yell echoed through the alleyway, and the boys who were previously laughing together all turned their heads in the direction of it. The distance was a bit far, not even a squint would help.

“Little bitch!” Yejun roared, reeling back as he cupped both hands over his face while the other man with him apprehended you. A slight squeak fell from your lips, the hard knuckles of a backhand making contact with your cheek but that didn’t prevent the twisted sense of accomplishment you felt when Yejun pulled his bloodied hands away from his face for you to see three diagonal slices across his left eye socket and over his cheek. You could feel remnants of flesh under your nails for a moment as the fight was kicking in and you rolled onto your back just in time to kick away Yejun’s partner, concerned not with the aching in your cheek that was sure to be swollen any moment.

You could hear the distinct click of Yejun’s switchblade, a point at which you stood little chance as you lay on the sidewalk near the building you’d previously been pinned against. With all the breath your lungs could muster, you ripped a scream loud enough to ring in Yejun’s ears, distracting him for only a moment that you were able to sweep kick his ankles.

At the sound of the scream, Yuta was first to draw his blade after casting his board aside. He could vaguely see two bodies on the ground and could identify the scream as female, meaning someone was in trouble and he couldn’t just let it go—not in his neighborhoods. Jungwoo looked at Jaehyun who watched on as Yuta cautiously approached just enough to become aware of the bodies, and then took off in a dash. It was slightly alarming to the two others who followed behind, but stayed in the distance.

You flung your foot upwards into the crotch of the other male ready to nab you, sending him to the floor in a hurry just as Yuta was approaching. The sight of another body sent you in full defense mode. He kicked at the knife loosely in Yejun’s hand before he was hauling you to your feet. You clawed into the back of his hand, unable to get a good glimpse of whoever it was, all you knew was that you were in trouble and you had to fight.

He hissed quietly, but no protest other than that left his lips until he was identifying himself.

“It’s me, it’s Yuta,” he uttered to you through his gritted teeth, trying to stave the pain of his tearing flesh as best he could. It took a minute to process, but once you recognized the name, you stopped trying to rip all the flesh off the back of his hand. Your wide eyes turned to him, just to double check and he could see the adrenaline still pumping through you.

Yejun had barely made it back to his feet, forgetting about his knife for a moment as he lunged at the both of you, only to grunt and gag after being abruptly taken into a headlock. Yuta held you protectively as the two of you looked on, Jaehyun’s strong arm hooked around Yejun’s neck and pulled tightly.

“I thought I said if you went after her again, I would kill you,” Jaehyun growled, his leather jacket easy protection from Yejun’s prying claws, attempting to tear Jaehyun’s arm from around his neck, but it merely tightened, and the choking continued a little more roughly. Jungwoo had apprehended Yejun’s right hand man, able to handle him on his own, although the bigger male was still mostly incapacitated, able to feel your strike for generations to come.

The sight of those three gashes across his face sent your heart beating a little faster; from just above his eyebrow across the bridge of his nose were three blinding and bloody marks that oozed the more Jaehyun choked him.

“Let him go,” you uttered quietly. Yuta looked at you, turning you a little bit to get a look at your face. Jungwoo looked at you; although he hadn’t been a part of previous altercations, he’d clearly heard of you. Jaehyun’s gaze snapped to you, softening in an instant as he processed the terror on your face. Your fight had subsided a bit, and although that man had directly put your life in danger, your conscious felt a little differently. Jaehyun wouldn’t let up, though; he wasn’t very lenient with his warnings, ever. He made Yejun a promise that it would be his last day, aggressively crossing your path again.

Yejun’s face was turning colors, those gashes oozing as he struggled, the gagging ringing in your ears seemed to have no affect on the three around you. You could almost see the muscles shift under the sleeve of Jaehyun’s jacket as it continued to constrict even tighter with zero intention of heeding your request.

You shook Yuta off you and took a step forward, just out of reach of Yejun’s swinging leg, but it didn’t faze you. Jaehyun stared at you, stared at the bruise forming on your cheek that made his blood boil and a strained noise came from Yejun’s throat.

“Jaehyun,” you growled sharply.

Jaehyun’s arm unleashed from Yejun’s neck, who promptly dropped to the floor and gasped for hair in the most grotesque fashion, undoubted damage to his trachea as he clasped at his own neck. Jaehyun cast you aside for a moment as he looked down at Yejun.

“Rest assured, next time, you won’t be so lucky. If I catch you one more time, Yejun… take your wicked life and get the fuck out of my neighborhood,” Jaehyun growled, kicking the injured male back onto his side after he had struggled to make it to his knees in the first place. You took a hold of Jaehyun’s arm, pulling him away from the struggling male.

“That’s enough,” you whispered to him, taking his cheek to turn his gaze to you instead of glaring holes through Yejun.

His eyes sparkled in the streetlights like all the stars in the galaxy as he looked at you. Stubborn about turning all the way towards you in case Yejun wanted to finish it, it took two fistfuls of his leather jacket to turn him completely, but he still didn’t go easily. The scabbed cut on his cheek didn’t go unnoticed as you touched against it with your thumb, still fairly fresh, and only when his hand rose to bring your hand away from it did you notice the bandaging around his hand.

When you noticed that, you could feel him shift uncomfortably and avoid your gaze for a moment. You couldn’t find the words, no matter how hard you tried, to ask him what had happened. Yuta and Jungwoo had disposed of Yejun and his counterpart in due time in the background.

“Not here,” he pleaded, turning his desperate gaze back to you. “Please, not here,” he muttered about your imminent chat. There were many things to discuss, and he was pissed as all hell that he only had about nineteen hours to figure it out.

The four of you meandered back over to the bucket of spray paints and Yuta’s board among other things to get everything cleaned up before you’d head out for your chat. Jungwoo and Yuta eyeballed each other, trying to keep you and Jaehyun out of their silent exchange for a moment. You sat quietly while everything was picked up and, just as Yuta and Jungwoo were about to leave you be, Yuta had to comment.

“Not to rub it in, but I told you she’d come look for you,” Yuta commented, earning a warranted growl from the younger male because, if he was going to rub it in, he at least could have done it not in front of you.

“Get,” Jaehyun growled, fist clenching at his side. You looked up at Yuta who returned your gaze, just more pathetically. He knew the two of you were probably in for another long night, so he quickly assembled his board and gathered the paints and dust-masks with Jungwoo’s help and they were gone in a hurry. Jaehyun stood there with a heavy sigh, contemplating his half-completed work that splayed across the cinder bricks. You sat silently, waiting for him to say something to you.

“Jaehy—”

“He was going to kill you,” Jaehyun snapped, but still kept his gaze across the menagerie of colors, noticing every imperfection that lay in it now that he was giving it a scrutinizing second look.

“Put that aside for a minute,” you begged from the ground as you looked at him.

“I can’t,” he growled through his teeth. “I’m the whole reason you’re in this mess. He was going to kill you to get to me. He was going to kill you to shatter me. I’ve always been the hardest to break. I never get attached to anything for fear it will be ripped from me just like that,” he explained, reaching out to touch the still slightly wet paint across his new piece to wipe it, ruining the image that decorated with a hand shaped smear.

You’d stood from the ground while he was busy talking at his work. You dusted yourself off and ambled over to him to take his arm to turn him. He looked at you almost pathetically, while you looked up at him like he was your stars in the night sky.

“Put it aside for a moment,” you whispered, looked up at him, and took his cheeks in your hands. The way your eyes glanced between his gave his shoulders the means to slump, finally able to relax a bit, even if your thumb grazed the cut he couldn’t stand to have you see on his face. He looked at your injuries with the same disdain, watching the purple hues rise to the surface of your skin around your eye socket and he would have clenched his fists if they hadn’t occupied themselves by wiping wet paint on his jeans before taking your waist to drag you into him.

He wanted to delay the imminent conversation a little longer, so he pressed his forehead against yours and took a deep breath, letting his eyes flutter closed as he slowly began to sway with you. You could feel the uneasy way his fingers clawed against your back, searching for words deep in the maelstrom of his mind. Admittedly, you arched into the way he held your back, stroking down your spine now and again to press you deeper against him before he finally decided the correct, simple sentence.

“I’m so wrong for you,” he whispered, breath fanning across your face and you could feel his brow draw together against your forehead, grip turning a little more anxious. “I would have ended him in a moment to keep you safe; but you are so gracious and gentle—”

“Do you even hear yourself when you talk?”

He scoffed gently, trying to understand your implications; exactly what part was he supposed to hear that was supposed to convince him that he wasn’t so wrong for you?

“I don’t know what your history with Yejun is. I don’t know what your history is at all, but you’ve made it painfully obvious that your mission now is to protect me—”

“I put you in danger, it’s my responsibility to make sure nothing happens to you because of me,” he interrupted, reeling back so that he could look at you. That brow was still drawn, displaying apparent dissatisfaction, but his gaze was so much softer than it had been when he spared you a glance while dealing with Yejun.

“You got me out of danger in the first place,” you reminded him, pushing your hands passed his cheeks so you could drape your hands around his neck and shoulders. “Aside from that, it was never your responsibility to step in; you did, though. You’re a good man, Jaehyun.”

He scoffed again. “A good man,” he jeered sarcastically. “I’ve never been a good man; I’ve been a trouble maker, a fighter, a hoodlum—”

“That does not stunt your capacity to be a good man in other things,” you reasoned some more.

“Why are you trying to convince me?”

“Because apparently it takes some convincing for you to see it,” you responded a little roughly. “Do you not see how you’ve changed my fate on so many different occasions, all because of your good heartedness? You are so stubborn and particularly hard-headed and while I know that comes with the territory of the life you grew up in… if you weren’t a good man, why would you do those things for me?”

Jaehyun opened his mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out—he didn’t really have any words to share with you in the first place, at least no good ones.

“Maybe you’re right,” he conceded a bit, his tone softening but his grip around you never wavered. “But when I look in the mirror, when I see the scars everywhere, I don’t feel like a good man.”

“You just need someone who will see those scars and appreciate them because they’re part of you. They’re reminders of experiences that made you, you, and if that makes someone love you right, then there’s no reason to be ashamed of them,” you encouraged, filing your fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck.

He reveled in the feel, because you watched the way his eyes fluttered a bit, the way his jaw shifted and clenched, the way his exhale extended. His eyes gazed over your face, reaching here and there to brush some stray strands of hair away from it. The silence was calming as he soaked it all in; ultimately, you were right. He’d always had bad associations with those scars, but you had a way with words that made him consider working on wiping all of those associations away to build new ones. Part of him, deep down that he tried to tuck away, didn’t believe you. He wanted to show you, wanted you to feel them all and tell him you weren’t afraid, that you didn’t judge him because he knew you would.

“I’m not afraid of you, Jaehyun,” you told him, as if you were able to read his mind. “You think you’re all bad, rough, edginess. You’re just as gentle as you think I am, the way you’ve been holding me since we came over here.”

“Stop,” he pleaded, taking both of your cheeks in his hands. He gnawed his bottom lip, looking over your face multiple times. His tongue danced behind his teeth, jaw shifting.

“Why?” you asked.

“Because, I’m about to be an absolute mess for you.”

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