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flyingflosser09 · 1 year

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Cursed / Armando Salazar x OC / Chapter 14

Chapter 13: https://at.tumblr.com/flyingflosser09/cursed-armando-salazar-x-oc-chapter-13/1gc6n53ugsfd

That encounter in the great cabin haunted me for three nights on end. I may be a woman, but I’m not daft. I am a healer who can speak three different languages, I can name every part of a ship as I would name the herbs I use in my craft, I know the map in the stars like the back of my hand, and I know when the weather is perfect to set sail upon the open waters.

I know things, things that obviously would classify me as a witch as so many people believe me to be. However, one thing I never knew was that I’d someday be lying awake at night in the great cabin of a cursed ship, thinking about its ghostly, revenge-driven Spanish captain…and what it would be like to embrace him any way I wished.

Absurd, I know.

Madness, yes, yes.

Am I crazy? I’ve also pondered that thought many times.

But I believe in myths and facts alike. If Henry says there is a trident that can break all the curses of the ocean, then damn it, there is. And if there is a meaning for my rapid heart whenever I’m in the Capitan’s presence, then surely, it can only mean one thing.

I’ve felt anger more times I can count. It consumes you like ravenous flames would a piece of dried driftwood, leaving nothing but ash that blows off in the breeze.

Second comes the constant melancholy that my curse brings me. Those days drove me to ideas on how to end it all and just be done with life…

But when I found Henry, I learned what happiness felt like. It was the complete opposite of anger and yet, I also compare it to fire. Not there to burn and destroy, but to warm and nurture my heart and to boil the laughter from my stomach. And from that same fire, more positive emotions saw the light. I learned to laugh, to jest, to be mischievous, to care, to be kind, and to love myself for who I am – curse excluded.

Most importantly, I learned to love. I love Henry and Elizabeth with all my heart. They have become the family that I’ve lost to the ocean so many years ago, the ones that taught me the proper way of how a person should be treated.

I learned something new last night, however. It is more a theory than a fact at this stage. Could there be more than one form of love? I’m pondering the question because I love Henry, but he doesn’t make my heart swell and stomach flurry as the Capitan – Armando – does.

There must be more than one form of love then, there is no other explanation for it.

The next question now is, do I love Armando?

As I said, I am well acquainted with anger and melancholy, but love? I need to understand why he makes me feel these things, why I enjoy being close to him, and why I crave to know everything about him. As a cursed being who hasn’t felt any form of emotion except rage for almost three decades, I don’t believe asking Armando – or any officer – would help me much. But…

…after being unable to sleep for three nights, might give me some time to search for answers myself.

Books are wonderful objects. They contain useful information on healing, herbology, astrology, and many more subjects I’d like to know more about – such as love. Fortunately, the pirate captain Armando killed had several books in his cabin, some about love to my surprise.

Lighting one of the lanterns beside my bed, I pick up one of the books to start reading.

…

By now, it has become routine for Magda to train the girl at the break of dawn. She has grown accustomed to the time in the Triangle, having figured out when to rise to start her training. He would await her at the usual spot beside the broken mainmast, cleverly thinking what educational torture he’d inflict on her that day.

However, today, that routine was rudely broken.

Magda waited for what felt like hours before he finally had enough. “Increíble! How am I expected to perform my duty if the señorita has no regard for punctuality?”

“Ah, that’s not fair, amigo,” Santos says from the forecastle deck, also waiting for Samira to appear. He’s been enjoying overseeing her training the past week and a half. “Usually, she’s on time. Something must be wrong this morning.”

“Wrong?” they turn to Moss, who happened to float through the floorboards that moment. “Is something wrong with the señorita?”

“We aren’t certain,” Santos explains, “But she never misses sword training, does she, Magda?” The officer in question huffs in annoyance. He knows Santos is right, but he wouldn’t admit it loudly. “Perhaps one of us should make sure she is well.”

“I’m not going again,” Magda quickly protests, “I train her, that is it.”

“I think it’s Antonio’s turn.”

Moss’ head jerks to Santos, “W-what? No, I… I can’t. I…she…”

“She doesn’t bite,” Santos ensures him and start ushering him across the main deck to the great cabin.

“It’s not that I’m worried about…” he tries escaping Santos’ hold but fails. “What do I say to her? What do I talk about?”

“Anything, she’s not picky. Tell her about poetry, she’ll enjoy that.”

And just like that, Santos leaves him at the door of the great cabin, quickly drifting off to stand beside Magda. Moss swallows dryly – something ghosts don’t do – and tug at his collar. Looking back, he pleads his fellow officers not to send him in.

Magda and Santos, however, only wave their hands, signalling him to go ahead and knock.

Realizing no help will come from them, the young officer must face his fear on his own. With no way out, he raises a shaky pale hand and deliver three knocks on the door.

Silence is all he hears, and he grows hopeful.

But to his dread, the door handle jiggles and then, she is standing in front of him, dressed in the usual attire she wears to sword practise, hair slightly dishevelled, and clutching a book to her chest.

“Oh,” she blinks in surprise, “Don’t believe I’ve had to pleasure of meeting you yet. I’m Samira.”

Moss isn’t sure if ghosts can faint, but he felt seconds away from it…until he recognized the book in her hold. “Is that…”

She looks down at the book and hold it up for him to see, “Eternal Depths. I found it among the pirates’ loot. It’s about a governor’s daughter who falls in love with the general of an enemy armada. Once their love is exposed, he is mutinied on a deserted island to live out his days alone and –”

“Eventually die of starvation,” Moss interjects and feel himself relaxing a bit, “I know the story, senorita.”

“You do?” she blinks.

“The general’s love was so strong; he built a raft with his bare hands and sailed the perilous water to find his love. In the end –”

“Oh, no, please don’t tell me,” She quickly interrupts him, “I’m only at page two-hundred-and-seven.”

“Yes, yes, of course.” He also doesn’t know if ghosts can blush but swears he can feel his cheeks gaining warmth. At last, he says, “I’m Antonio, Antonio Moss.”

…

I vaguely recognize his face from the times I searched the crew for either Santos, Magda, or Lesaro. He seems younger than most of the officers, even as a ghost, and would always avoid my eyes at all costs. At first, I believed he didn’t like me, but after more observation, I learned he was quiet and reserved, and enjoyed being on his own instead.

“Please, come in,” I open the door for him and gesture at the dimly lit cabin.

Moss peers in, on the verge of crossing the threshold yet too cautious. “I…I shouldn’t.”

“I promise, I don’t bite,” I jest, “But if you must go, then I shall read all those books by myself. Lots of stories about adventures, sea beasts, voyages, love…”

The word ‘book’ was enough to grab his attention. Moss perks up and tugs at his collar. “I suppose I’ve got time for one book.”

He floats past me and into the cabin, stopping to take it all in. It must look different with the lanterns, the hammock hanging from the ceiling, and the makeshift furniture I made. For years, they were used to seeing the carcass of the ship they once sailed proudly on, a ship that could sink any vessel in its path, now reduced to a husk of coal and burnt hope.

The flickering lanterns must seem friendlier to him, and he continues his way to the pile of books on the table. I quietly allow him to read the titles. In the time I’ve struggled to sleep, I sorted the books by genres – a pile for history books, for astrology, for healing, for fiction, and romance. Moss, however, seems to take an interest in the latter.

He picks up a book I know to be poetry and flips through the brownish pages. His ghostly features light up at the words. “Let me not to the marriage of true minds…”

“Which one is that?” I inquire, rounding the table to have a look at the poem.

“It’s one of my favorites, written by William Shakespeare.”

“Can you read it to me?”

My question takes him aback. “Read it…”

“Please?” If Armando was right and I instill purpose within his crew, then that is what I will do. Clearly, Moss enjoys reading. Why else would he have noticed the book? And while Lesaro, Santos, and Magda all had their turns to feel something again, I doubt Moss had that luxury yet. “No one has ever read to me before. I never had that privilege as a child, even less a woman.”

Yes, as soon as someone learns a woman can read, they instantly think she’s a witch and send the guards running after her. I had to keep my hobbies secret behind closed gates at Elizabeth’s estate.

“Oh, uh, if you wish, then…” Moss clears his throat and begins reading.

‘Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle’s compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.’

By the end of the sonnet, his words have dissolved into the air, leaving me with nothing but my imagination to fill the blank canvas the poem presented me with. But I had no idea what half of it meant. The poet had an interesting way of saying what he felt and thought.

“That was beautiful, but what does it all mean?” I finally ask the young officer. “I know it’s about love, but what about it?”

“It tells us what love is and what it is not, señorita,” he begins to explain, “Love is perfect and unchanging; it does not admit impediments, and it does not change. In the second quatrain, we are told what love is through a metaphor: a guiding star to lost ships that is not susceptible to storms. Lastly, we see what love is not: it is not susceptible to time; love does not change with hours and weeks. Instead, it remains until the end of time.”

“You seem to know a lot about love.” Should I ask him about what it is I’m feeling towards his Capitán? I don’t know him as well as Lesaro and Santos. Of course, I would entrust Santos more with a secret like that, considering Lesaro’s loyalty to Armando. And Magda…well, he’d wave it off as merely a distraction. “Antonio, I have something to confess. But you can’t tell a soul, it is our secret only.”

He nods and leans in for me to whisper to him.

“I…I think I might feel things for your Capitán.”

He frowns. “What sort of things?”

“It is difficult to say, I never felt these things before.” I decide to outright describe to him what I felt last night. “Whenever I am near him, my heart beats fast, faster than the Mary could sail before she was cursed. My stomach tosses and turns like waves against rocks, and I am overcome by this…warmth, like I’ve been standing in the sun a whole day. Is this the love the poet speaks of?”

To my surprise, Moss is smiling broadly. He looks the epitome of a child in a candy shop, eyes filled with awe and anticipation.

“Si, si, you are in love, señorita. What you are feeling…I think many of us longed to feel so many years.” His smile falters as he is overcome by melancholic yearning. “Many of us were married or betrothed before the curse, some of us had families. I watched so many of my fellow officers lose all hope of ever returning to them. Today, most of our loved ones surely passed away, never to see us again.”

My heart sinks at the thought of mothers, fathers, brothers, sister, wives, and children waiting for their sons, brothers, and men to return after their battles against the pirates. Imagine them sitting at the docks or on the beach in Spain, patiently searching the horizon day after day for signs of the Mary. Days turn to weeks, weeks turn to months, and months turn to years, and slowly, their hope start to crumble until, eventually, they are no less hopeless than the crew of the Silent Mary.

Truly, this curse affects both dead and living.

“The Capitán,” Moss continues quietly as if what he’s about to tell me, is a secret, “lost his family to piracy, so he made a vow to eliminate them all. He was not known for having Mercy…”

“And he earned the name El Matador Del Mar, the Butcher of the Sea,” I mutter, nodding my head, I’ve heard the stories, although old and outdated.

“The curse, it took our worst qualities and made us into that. The Capitán…he became vengeance itself. Nothing would sate his hunger for revenge until the Sparrow is dead.” However, looking up at me, his expression lightens. “But you, señorita, changed him. I’ve seen it. You are the guiding star that will lead him to his purpose.”

“But how?” I ask, “I know nothing about this kind of love.” “Love comes naturally, señorita, you’ll see. But, if I may offer a suggestion, he used to enjoy dancing back in the living days…” Moss smiles genuinely before holding up the book, “May I please borrow this one?”

#armando salazar #armando #salazar #pirates of the caribbean: dead men tell no tales #pirates of the caribbean #potc dmtnt #potc #dmtnt #jack sparrow #henry turner

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emilysshortstories · 3 years

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Paul Lahote Part 2

Don’t really know what to call this, but thanks for all the love on the last part. I’m gonna try and post weekly but I work a lot so no promises.

Warnings: Angst, lots of it. cussing, hints towards abuse.

After a few weeks went by things seemed to work themselves out between Jacob and Bella. I would drive out to Emily’s about once a week, Paul conveniently never being there. Which I was actually kinda glad about, although I felt eager to be around him, Jared told me about his anger issues so I think it’s better for me to steer clear of him until this eagerness goes away. Anger issues scare me.

Jared and I have gotten close through these visits, always laughing at each other's sarcastic jokes and ending the night with an episode of New Girl. That was usually the time when everyone else bailed but I didn’t care, it gave Jared and I some hilarious inside jokes. No matter how close we got, our feelings for each other never grew past platonic, though I would rarely catch Sam giving Jared a look. It was never all knowing “when are you going to ask her out?” look, more of a “back off” look. But that could just be me reading into it too much, there is nothing. I am thinking too much. I’m just happy I finally made a friend of my own.

One day when I arrived at Emily’s for dinner, there was a new face in the crowd. “Y/N! You’re here!” said Emily as I walked in. “Hey! This is for you. It’s a cake for later” I said, handing her the grocery bag in my hands. “Thank you, you didn’t have to do that. This is Seth, Harry’s son.” Emily pointed to the unfamiliar face. “Hi, I’m Y/N, Charlie Swan’s niece.” I introduced myself, but Seth just kind of stared at me, never saying a word. Jared’s laughing was what broke the silence. “What are you laughing at dick nose?” I asked, hoping not to embarrass Seth. “Nothing, just your ability to woo people”

“Very funny, I don’t woo anyone, you’re imagining things. How Emily puts up with you is beyond me.”

“IT’S NOT WITHOUT GREAT DIFFICULTY” Emily yelled from the kitchen before walking towards us. “Paul isn’t going to show up again?” she added.

“Nope” Embry said “ Too stubborn for his own good, the dumbass”

“Hey, if he doesn’t want to meet me that’s fine. It’s none of my business.” I say, hoping to ease Emily’s thoughts, seeming it always bothers her when he doesn’t show up.

We all seemed to move past it and dinner was great, as usual. “Hey, instead of New Girl do you want to take a walk? I’ll show you the hiking trails around here.” Jared asked me.

“Sounds great” I said with a smile.

“Can I join you guys?” Seth asks like a small child which made me have to suppress a giggle. Poor boy had been staring at me all night like a lost puppy, he was cute no doubt, but being 5 years younger than me was a deal breaker.

“No, Jared has something important to explain to her. Remember?” Sam said like he was Seth’s father. He seemed to always be incharge of everything around these guys so that didn’t surprise me. I definitely wouldn’t call them a cult, but club would be a better term, seeming as a hierarchy was apparent.

“Seth likes you” Jared said as soon as we walked out of the house. “Wow! Way to out your friend there! Remind me to never trust you with a secret. Plus you don’t know that for certain, he just met me.” I said and Jared laughed, but didn’t say anything back. No until we were pretty deep into the woods did I ask “So what is this thing Sam said you needed to show me?”

“Well I wanted to try and explain it to you but I have a feeling you wouldn’t believe me.”

“Your sarcasm levels are like no other to be fair, so show me.”

“Ok” he said and stopped walking. “Just brace yourself and try not to panic. I promise I won’t hurt you ok?”

“Ok” I say, trying to do what he said.

I watched. Watched him take off his shoes. Watched him back up a few feet. Watched him start to shake. Just like Paul did that day Bella slapped him. Then I watched him turn into a wolf. I was stuck. Didn’t say or do anything. I couldn’t. Just continued to watch as this wolf trotted back into the woods. My brain was blank. No thoughts, words or actions came to mind. Everyone knows the fight or flight trauma responses, but not a lot of people talk about the third: freeze.

Jared came back, this time a human. “You okay?”. I took a deep breath and said “I’m in need of explanation please” I remembered that he wasn’t going to hurt me.

He explained the histories, Vampires, and why he spends most of his time with the “pack”. I listened, tried to take it all in and process the copious amounts of new information, but apparently I was too quiet for Jared. “Please say something”

“I’m alright, surprised to say the least and will need some time to process everything. But I’m not mad I promise. Thank you for telling me everything.”

“Well, that actually is not all. We just figured it would be best to wait until you’re ok with this first.”

“There is more? Please just tell me the rest, trust me, I process better with all the information.”

“Okay, well. We can hear each other's thoughts, we are 108 degrees, and we can imprint.”

“That’s why you never wear shirts… What’s imprinting?”

“The best way I can describe it is soulmates. When we make eye contact with them, our whole world becomes this person and we will be and do anything for them. When we are apart it’s hell, getting rejected by an imprint can really fuck you up. Make you sick. No one has ever died from being seperated from an imprint but you might as well be.”

“That sounds intense. What does that have to do with me?”

“Paul imprinted on you. And it scared him. Still does scare him because love was never something that he wanted. That’s why he won’t see you, he isn’t mad at you. He’s in love with you and his stubbornness is eating him alive. It wouldn’t be so bad if I didn’t have to listen to his obsessive thoughts all the time.”

“Hold on. Paul is my soulmate but he doesn't want me?”

“No, he wants you. He needs you, but he’s scared. We thought if we told you, you could convince-”

“You want me to try and convince my soulmate that he should be with me?... Fuck that. You dump all this crap on me and then tell me my own fucking soulmate doesn’t want me?!”

As if on cue, Paul came out of the woods “What did you do to her Jared? You hurt her?!”

“How do you know I’m in pain?”

“We feel our imprints' pain too” Jared added.

“Oh! Perfect! So you can feel what you are doing to me asshole!” I couldn’t help but yell at Paul, I was overwhelmed to say the least. I’d never been so angry in my whole life.

“What?”

“Jared didn’t hurt me, You did! What? You thought that I would be all sweet and understanding?! Awe my own fucking soulmate doesn’t want me-”

“No it’s no like that-”

“What is it? Am I not as pretty as you thought I would be? Well I can guarantee that you were not what I had in mind either you prick! In fact you are the last person I ever wanted. Oh great! Another egotistical asshole with anger issues to make me feel like shit all the time! Let me just take off my shoes so you can sweep me off my feet properly! I’m happy you got some practice keeping your distance from me. Now keep doing it! And don’t you dare think, even for a second, that you have any sort of claim over me. I’m out of here!”

Frustrated tears flowed down my face like a waterfall while my heart felt like it had died in my stomach and air was coming into my lungs but not my head.

“Please don’t go. I had no idea you would feel this way. I can’t be separated from you anymore, I’ll go insane-”

“GOOD! Now fuck off!” I got into my car and slammed my door before Paul ran up to me window “Ok ok you can leave, just please let me drive you home. You shouldn’t be driving like this, and it’s dark. I promise I won’t say a word. Let Jared drive you! Anything.”

“Don’t tell me what to do!” My own stubbornness got the best of me and I drove away. Only this time I was dumb enough to look in the mirror to see Paul sobbing.

#twilight #paul lahote #paul lahote smut #paul lahote imagine #seth clearwater #embry call #jared cameron #sam uley #leah clearwater #wolfpack #quil ateara

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angellesword · 3 years

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MAGIC SHOP | JJK (12)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Warnings: none other than JK and OC making out, cursing too????

Chapter’s OST: Nobody Compares by One Direction

Word Count: 3.8k

Series: CHAPTER 11 | CHAPTER 13

Soojin wasn't sure what to do when she saw you standing there, only a few meters away from her and Sin-ae.

You obviously heard the secret she just spilled. This was why she didn't understand why you were keeping a neutral face. It was like the new information didn't shock you at all.

Soojin couldn't help but wonder if this was you being a martyr again. She was not a fool. She was aware how desperate you were to become a part of their family.

How could she not know? Soojin literally exploited this desperation of yours for many years.

She hoped she could still use it today. She hoped you were still the same naïve girl from before.

"Hey, sister..." Soojin tested the waters by calling you sister. It always worked. She saw how your eyes softened and sparkled every time she called you that.

Sometimes she found it endearing, but it pissed her off most of the time. You were such an idiot. She mused.

"Hi." You went near them, greeting them flatly that caused Soojin's heart to drop to her stomach. She didn't see it. This was the first time your eyes didn't light up at the sight of her and her kind smile.

Your face also remained impassive despite Sin-ae's hostility.

"What are you doing here?" Soojin's mother barked, her question was making her look dumb.

You were cradling flowers in your arms while inside a columbarium building. Of course you were here to visit the dead.

"I'm here for my father," and that's exactly what you did; you stated the obvious. Your voice sounded like a robot though. Just like your face, there's no emotion that could be traced. "You know, since I wasn't able to attend the funeral."

Soojin almost flinched at the sudden change of your tone. It's stone cold. She could almost taste your resentment in her tongue.

"Ah..." Your sister let out a breathy laugh. Her heart was in her throat. Soojin was never intimidated by you because she had always felt like she was better than you. In all aspects. You were an illegitimate child. You didn't have a loving mother. Your brothers didn't consider you family. Your father loved her more than he loved you.

The only one you had was Jungkook, but he wasn't yours anymore. He was hers.

"W-We thought you went back to New York." Soojin reasoned out sheepishly. She looked timid, exactly how you used to look when you were around the Kims.

It's uncanny actually. At this very moment, you could see yourself in her. Soojin looked so much like you. Was it because she's your sister? Or was it because just like you, she had done something shameful too?

Wrong.

You were wrong. Your very existence was shameful enough. Soojin had only done something that made her feel guilty. That's different. She's nothing like you. She was better—this was what she believed.

"I did not." You responded because what else could you say? It wouldn't change the fact that you didn't get to see your father for the last time.

They took him away from you.

"Well then we won't disturb you anymore." Soojin faked a smile, grabbing her mother's arm and tucking it into the crook of her elbow.

Sin-ae tried to pull her arm away from her daughter's grasp. Turning to you, she huffed and was about to say mean things when Soojin discreetly squeezed her mother's arm.

You saw how she leaned closer to the older woman to whisper something. Only a fool wouldn't know what that 'something' was. It's obvious she told Sin-ae that there's a big chance you heard about their secret.

It's the only logical explanation why the color drained out of the face of your half sister's mother. It also appeared like Sin-ae suddenly lost her ability to speak.

She couldn't even scorn at you. Truthfully, she was looking at you as if you were a ghost that's been haunting her for ages.

"I-It's getting late, Soojin-ah. Maybe we should go." Sin-ae turned to look at her daughter, smiling warmly at her.

Soojin released a deep breath, thankful that her mother understood the situation immediately.

"We should." Soojin directed her smile at you. "See you soon, sister..."

Her smile dropped when you didn't respond, but instead of pointing it out or getting mad, she just chose to walk away, dragging her mother with her.

You surprised them when you unexpectedly spoke right after they walked past you.

"Yeah." Your grip on the stem of the flowers tightened. "See you at the Board of Directors' Meeting."

"She's bluffing." Sin-ae crossed her arms as she lifted her brows. She looked confident while standing still, her eyes were sharp which Soojin didn't fail to notice.

Her mother's aura gave her an illusion of power. Yeah. Sin-ae was right. You were most likely bluffing when you told them days ago that you would see them at the BOD's meeting.

Who cared if you knew about their secret? You didn't have evidence. As stated, Soojin destroyed it all. She also paid those employees who knew about the truth. They wouldn't dare spill.

That's the power of money. It could buy the silence of people.

Apart from this, no one would ever believe an illegitimate child like you. The board wouldn't even consider you as a prospective chairperson. You had the biggest share in the company but you weren't an architect in the firm. Only those who were working at Castle as an architect could be the next chairperson. Besides, why would they want an irresponsible person who suddenly quit her job? This was what you did when you abruptly decided to go to New York two years ago. You left Castle almost immediately, not caring that you still had commitments.

Jungkook, being your best friend, took over all your pending projects just so you could be free. He thought you simply wanted to leave the company. But regret washed over him upon realizing that you quit your job so you could go abroad.

Jungkook often wondered what would have happened if he didn't take over your pending projects. Would you still leave Seoul? Would you still leave him?

Probably.

You never stayed.

You left before.

You left him now too.

The last time Jungkook saw you was when he dropped you off at Castle so you could be present when Taemin's executor read the will. After that, he never saw you again.

Jungkook tried to go back to the motel but you weren't there anymore. He panicked, thinking that you went back to New York already.

But when he called your phone and you answered, he instantly felt relief engulfing his body.

"I'm still in Seoul." You informed him over the phone. You also told him you couldn't go back to his apartment anymore.

"At least tell me where you're staying..." He was begging you again. Jungkook didn't care if you thought he was pathetic. His main concern was your safety.

"I can't. But I'm safe. Promise." You assured him. He wanted to argue but then he was reminded by what you told him two years ago. You didn't want to be fixed. Maybe it's time he put his trust in you.

He should trust your words.

"Okay." He said, his heart was heavy.

You hummed.

"See you soon, Kook." And then you hung up.

You didn't lie though. Jungkook saw you after a few days. He got to know what happened through Soojin. Your sister was pissed because you inherited more than half of Taemin's assets. Jungkook also came to know that you wanted to be the next chairperson of Castle.

Soojin was trying to calm her nerves; however, everything was making her worry. She didn't only have to worry about you. Jungkook was also a threat to her position. The board probably wanted him to be the next chairperson.

Sin-ae assured her daughter there's nothing to worry about.

"Didn't I tell you I can handle Jungkook? He'll marry you so you don't need to worry if the board chooses him as your father's successor. Chin up. We got this. Like I said, the bastard is bluffing. She won't be at the meeting." Sin-ae reminded her daughter for the second time.

Soojin nodded. Her mother's words didn't give her the illusion of power. The confidence she felt right now was already real.

"Alright." Your sister held her head high as she heaved a deep sigh. "Let's go. This day is perfect. I'll either be the new chairperson or Jungkook's wife. I win regardless..."

"Yes." Sin-ae's lips twitched. "That's right. Now let's go and claim what belongs to you."

Sin-ae was wrong. You weren't bluffing. You're determined to be the next chairperson of Castle Architectural Firm.

You wouldn't let Soojin taint the name of your father. She had to pay for her sins, not just for the sake of Taemin but also because she owed it to the family of those workers who had died because of the accident.

Soojin failed as an architect. The least thing she could do was to become a decent human being and face the consequences of her mistake.

You knew you could only make her pay if you had the power, but how were you supposed to be in power when you felt like everyone in this building hated you?

You couldn't get rid of the ugly feeling twisting in your gut. You were certain you weren't imagining the nasty stares everyone was giving you.

You also saw some of the employees whispering to one another while looking at you.

You inhaled sharply and went straight to the comfort room. You couldn't bear it. All your life, the people you loved looked at you like that.

It was happening again. This time, it was so much worse. Even those who knew nothing about your life were judging you. You had a feeling that they were already aware that you were an illegitimate child.

It was kind of a big deal here, especially now that you had inherited the assets bound for the legitimates. People probably saw you and your mother the same way: a leech.

But you just shook your head at this. Who cares about what people think? What's important was that you didn't lose yourself despite hearing rumors about you.

It was just a rumor. You knew the truth. The people who loved you knew the truth. Jungkook knew the truth.

"Tiger." And he loved you.

"Jungkook?" You flinched when you heard your best friend's voice. You saw his reflection in the mirror. He was leaning against the bathroom door.

"Why are you here?" Your eyes widened, jaw clenching. This was a woman's restroom. What if someone saw him here?

"I thought I saw you going here. Just wanna check..." He said this while you peeked through each cubicle. Thank Heavens no other women were here.

"You're not supposed to be here. Let's go." You made your way to the door, attempting to twist the doorknob but Jungkook stopped you.

"Kook." You sighed. "The meeting starts in ten minutes. We'll be late." You said sharply, reminding him this wasn't the time to play games.

"Five minutes." He let out a deep breath too. "Just give me five minutes, Tiger."

Your breathing hitched upon hearing the desperation in his voice. You made a mistake by meeting his gaze. The softness in his eyes never failed to make your knees go weak.

"I just wanna see you..." He drawled, lightly pushing you against the door and caging you in his arm.

Jungkook cupped your face while you pressed your cheek against his hand, instantly melting. Your stomach knotted with desire. It felt good to be touched like this.

"Kook..." Your teeth chattered though, the protest of your brain was hard to ignore. "W-We can't."

And as usual, you gave into what your mind thought was right. You were pushing him away. Again.

Stupid.

"Why can't we?" It was surprising to hear him ask this without the whiny tone. He was calm today, like an adult asking for a reasonable explanation. Jungkook knew he couldn't get what he wanted by whining.

"Make me understand, Tiger. Why can't we?" He was caressing your cheek. Your eyes fluttered shut because you didn't want to look at his doe eyes.

"Soojin."

"To hell with Soojin." You shuddered when he said this. His voice was rough, so different from the Jungkook you knew. You had to open your eyes to make sure it's still him who was caging you.

The Jungkook you knew would never say something like this.

"How many times do I have to repeat myself for you to understand?" He was looking at you through hooded eyes.

Your heart hammered through your chest.

"It's not Soojin who I want. It's you." You felt his finger tracing your bottom lip. The way he was staring at your lips made you shiver. "Nothing compares to you, baby."

Oh.

You realized you couldn't use Soojin as an excuse. It's not working anymore and frankly, it's just pissing Jungkook off. He swore he'd vomit if he heard you say your sister's name one more time.

"W-We still can't." You trained your eyes on the floor. He was about to ask why but you beat him by speaking at once.

"Because you're my rival."

You thought you'd hear him scoff or hiss, but Jungkook just clenched his jaw. Deep eyes boring into you. He grabbed your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"I'm not." He said seriously. "I quit. I'm not competing against you."

You were the one who scoffed.

"Why?" You looked at him like he was crazy. "This is your father's company too."

Jeon Jong-in worked hard to build Castle Architectural Firm. Why wouldn't his son continue his legacy?

"You never listen to me, do you?" Jungkook let out a small chuckle before booping your nose. It's amusing how fast his expression changed. "Didn't I just tell you? Nothing compares to you, Tiger..."

He was saying that he'd choose you whatever happened, even if it meant losing other things. Because really, what's the use of all these material things when you're not by his side?

"Kook..." You pressed your hand on his chest and then you're suddenly reminded by what you had tried to do when you got drunk days ago.

The last time you put your hand on his chest, you tried to kiss him.

"What excuse are you gonna give me this time, my Tiger?" The corner of his mouth quirked up. Amusement was written all over his face. "Don't tell me you're gonna say you don't think I'm in love with you?"

Jeon Jungkook was the only person you knew who was never scared to admit his true feelings. You just knew he would confess his love at any chance he got. It's like he didn't mind if he got his heart broken. Truthfully, it felt like he would get his heart broken if he didn't confess all the time.

He had always been like this. Always genuine, never scared. He acted based on what he felt and he's never sorry for it.

"Are you?" You weren't sure what took over you when you knitted your brows together and asked this.

Jungkook's eyes grew big and then he let out a dramatic gasp. It was as though he couldn't fathom the words that left your mouth.

"Where is this coming from?" He swallowed thickly, disbelief was still apparent in his eyes. "You don't think I—wait. What?"

Jungkook blinked. Once. Twice.

"Shit. You seriously think I'm not in..." He trailed off, "oh." It's like something clicked. Jungkook's disbelief turned into credence when he realized something.

He stared at you with pursed lips, like he was trying to figure you out. Your expression seemed like you were challenging him that Jungkook wasn't sure what to do.

He felt like you're not going to believe whatever he would say, so instead of blabbering how crazy he was for you, he just used his mouth into something that shocked you.

Jungkook leaned forward and without hesitating, he kissed you.

Hard.

It was as though you were waiting for him to do that because your response was instant. You kissed Jungkook back like a hungry person who hadn't eaten in days.

Jungkook pressed his chest against yours, like he wasn't content with your proximity. He wanted to be closer to you even more.

"You don't think I love you because—" He bit your lip, making you moan. Jungkook pushed your body weight against the wall with his own. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your dress hiking up in the process. "—I didn't kiss you when you were drunk?"

He got it now. You're sulking like a kid because of it? Huh. What did you want him to do? Kiss you and then have you hate him since he wasn't able to control himself?

"You're a fool if you think I didn't want to do it. I was literally on the verge of giving you my whole world right there and then." You parted your lips and allowed his tongue to explore the inside of your mouth.

Jungkook was the very definition of sweet. Everything about him tasted sweet, heavenly, and addicting. It was like he was an angel, but in reality, he made you weak. A devil meant to punish your heart for wanting to take more than you could handle.

Jungkook gave you so, so much more and you couldn't stop taking it all.

"But I don't want to take advantage of you. I want you to really want me, to really mean it when you kiss me." He cupped your ass as he hummed and groaned with desire.

You felt bolder when you asked him; "do you think I mean it now?" In between kisses.

Jungkook swiped his tongue along your teeth. "Yeah," he answered yet he groaned in dissatisfaction. "But I'm selfish, Tiger...I want more than this."

He stopped kissing you, opting to press his forehead against yours. He breathed you in. He was letting the selfish part of him consume him again.

Jungkook wanted you with all of his heart. He was disgustingly in love with you.

"Love is not my priority right now, Jungkook." You said since it was the truth. You had the opportunity to help people serve justice.

"I know.” And he understood it. Jungkook was nuzzling your nose. "Promise me you're not gonna hold back..."

He knew how much you loved Soojin. He was a little worried you're going to back down once you saw sadness in your sister's features.

"I won't." But you weren't that person anymore.

It's interesting, really. Some people swore they'd never change but there's always that one circumstance which would transform them either into a better or worse version of themselves. You hadn't realized yet if your metamorphosis was the former or the latter. All you knew was that you had reached your breaking point—your limit.

"Good." Jungkook smiled softly at you. His eyes were crinkling. "I know it. I called you Tiger for a reason."

He was finally telling you the reason why he crafted that nickname for you. He didn't elucidate any further but you felt like you already understood. Tigers represented courage. To some, it symbolized truth and justice.

"Thanks, Kook." You returned the smile. Jungkook helped straighten your dress. He kissed you one last time before opening the door so you two could face the challenge set for today.

You arrived at the conference room just in time. Soojin and Sin-ae were already present. Your two brothers were here as well. They're shareholders too.

Once the quorum was recognized, the vice chairperson made a simple statement. The agenda for today was also discussed. The topic mostly revolved around the firm's responsibilities and liabilities—both civil and criminal—to the affected people.

There had been major changes with regard to ownership too. It had come to the attention of the board and other stockholders that the Kims were no longer the biggest investors in the firm.

"Quite the opposite actually." Jungkook leaned against the backrest of the chair as he crossed his arm over his chest.

He looked so relaxed, as if the matter being discussed didn't concern him.

Yes, that's actually the truth. Jungkook was just asked if he had the biggest share in Castle Architectural Firm.

"I sold all my shares. I'm just here to officially announce that I'm no longer tied to the company. I quit both as an investor and an architect."

There had been a protest after Jungkook said those words. It's clear that the majority of them couldn't accept this.

"This is ridiculous! Who will be the next chairperson now?" Mr. Han balled his hands into a fist.

Jungkook remembered this man. How could he forget? He's the same scum who disrespected Soojin and basically all women. He's a misogynistic piece of shit.

"It's not my fault you're not informed. All information is laid down for investors like you. I am not competing against the Kims."

It was revealed right there and then that Taemin's illegitimate child and Soojin were the candidates to be the next chairperson.

Of course Sin-ae lost her composure. It's expected. She's dramatic like that. She was shouting and demanding how this became possible.

The charter and the country's law stated that in order to become the company's chairperson of a professional corporation, one should be employed as an architect in the firm first.

Sin-ae talked to the Human Resources Manager before. The employee confirmed that you weren't hired. You didn't even apply.

"Oh I'm not talking about me, Mam." You smirked at your father's wife. "You see..."

For dramatic effect, you stood up and walked around the room. Everyone was either looking at you with anticipation or hatred.

Jungkook was the only one looking at you in awe. He liked seeing you like this, in control and confident. He pouted while watching you. He wished he could kiss you again.

"I know it's not a secret anymore that I'm Kim Taemin's child. But..."

But. There's this word again. More often than not, the word but followed something negative...or shocking.

In this case, it's the latter.

You saw surprise written in their faces as you revealed the truth:

"I'm not the only bastard of Kim Taemin." You stood behind the chair of one of the shareholders and architects here at Castle.

You tapped his back, causing him to sit straight.

"Everyone, meet Jung Hoseok—or should I say Kim Hoseok, the eldest son of Kim Taemin..."

Hoseok smirked too as he said “let the game begin,” under his breath.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #jungkook best friend #jungkook best friends to lovers #best friend jungkook #jungkook series #jungkook romance #jungkook fic #jjk fic #jjk #bts jeon jeongguk #boyfriend jungkook #armywriterssupport

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algumaideia · 3 years

Text

An analysis of Octavian

This post was actually going to be an explanation of why I think Octavian is an antagonist, but not a villain. But it ended up being an analysis of his character.

SPOILERS

And as always feel free to disagree with me, just be respectful.

Sorry, because it wasn’t well-written, I’m incapable of writing good texts.

Backstory

I think it is important to say that since we don’t have any information about his backstory most of the thing said in this part of the review are what I think is his backstory. It is a mix of the facts stated in the books, the way Octavian acts and my interpretations. Besides the things I’ll make clear that were said in the books, the rest is not canon. And you don’t need to agree with me that this was his backstory.

His family is one of the richest of New Rome- In the books he also seems to act without fearing the consequences while taking the privilege/money of his family as garented. Octavian acts like someone that is seeking attention. It is so weird how he just do whatever he wants without fearing consequences when his family is right there in New Rome. For that to happen I think or his family neglects him or they are those kind of people who think the children can do no wrong and are all my baby didn’t do that. But I think that if they were the latter, they would be more present in Octavian’s life, but they are never there.

He is an augere and feels very proud about it. I don’t think there is too much to add about it besides that I think he likes to be an augere because it makes him important and necessary.

No one likes him and this isn’t something new. In Son of Neptune, Hazel says half of the camp hates Octavian and most of his friends are bought. So, Octavian is a lonely child. And he is aware of this. He is a bad person, people dislike him for a reason. But it seems people have been disliking him for some years and he is a child. According to his wiki he was 10 years old when he came to Camp Jupiter for the first time, and he spent his tweens and teens years in a place where people did not like him. I don’t think this was a good place to grow up.

He is really smart and manipulative. I think that those traits are a little inconsistent. Because in the beginning of the SoN Percy says how Octavian is really good at manipulating people with words, but then in the ending of the book and in MoA everyone is shutting Octavian up. Isn’t he this kind of master of words, how he isn’t answering people back?

We also know he’s been at camp jupiter for quite sometime. I’ll talk about it in another part of the post.

He is anemic and mentally ill. I’ll talk about those things in the Camp Jupiter, Treatment and Ableism parts.

Other thing that I would like to say is that this post is not an attempt to ignore the bad things Octavian did and pretend he is not a bad person. It is just me trying to understand his better and show why in my opinion the fandom hasn’t treated him fairly.

Camp Jupiter

Camp Jupiter sucks and it does for a lot of reasons. Some of them being the fact they have a city full of adults and most of them were demigods trained in the camp, which means they have trained adults but instead tweens and teens are the ones who fights. Hazel said that if Percy dishonored the legion they both would be executed. Hazel also says that sometimes people die in the war games. There is also the fact that people are dying all the time in missions/wars. The Camp Jupiter also expects perfect behavior for its demigods, to them all know the rules and to do not commit mistakes and I don’t have adhd but this doesn’t seem to be a good place to people that has the disorder. There is too much preassure to do not do any wrong, apperently no emotional support and the punishments seems to be crazy. It’s not a healthy place to a chldren grow up.

Other point is how they value physical strenght, hand to hand combats and offensive approache more than a lot of things. Frank said how he wasn’t treated well because he was an archer, and this was seem as cowardice. Octavian is anemic, he doesn’t have physical strenght or energy to be able to fight. The only way to be respected in Jupiter's camp is to be a good fighter, and he cannot be that because of his illness. As I said Octavian is someone that is often seeking attention and validation by his peers, and I think that this is why being an augere is something so important to him. He cannot make himself important in the traditional way and by being an augere he is necessary to the camp. People cannot just dismiss him. He buys friends, he manipulates people, he becomes a centurion, he is always dominating the senate. He makes himself impossible to be neglected.

Yes, Octavian is power-hungry. Yes, he is bad. But a lot of things he did during Heroes of Olympus was just Roman things (he was also mentally ill and his mental health was getting worse in each book). When Hazel says that Octavian will kill Percy if the greeks atack New Rome, but in the next sentence she says that Romans take oaths very seriously. However it is all written like it is Octavian being a horrible person. But it is not. The Romans are very harsh with their punishments, they seem to be violent, physical. When Octavian says the Romans should fight the greeks, he is just acting like a Roman, like someone who was raised in a enviroment that encouraged violence responses.

Treatment

Octavian wasn’t treated nicely by the narrative and other characters. I mean, this guy was the centurion of the first cohort and an augere. But no one seem to respect him. No one enters the legion without him saying yes (I know it is acording to what he sees) but he is treated like he isn’t important. He is the one that is responsable of saying what the gods wants, but no one seems to have problems mocking him. I mean fi he decides to give you a wrong information about what a god want you are dead.

Hazel said how “obsessed” with the sibylline books Octavian and it was framed as him being irrational and dumb. But in the end he was right, if the legion listened to him Ella would have been save way sooner. But no, it is just Octavian being “obsessed”.

Percy acts like Octavian doesn’t have any prophecy powers, but he saw the lighting in the Jupiter Temple. Then when Octavian is mad because there are three preators he acts like he is overreacting, and Jason and Reyna do nothing. And this is weird because it was made very clear that rules are very important to Camp Jupiter.

When he decides to attack Camp Jupiter he is always villified and not seem as a mentally ill boy that has been getting worse doing the Roman thing.

He is always dismissed, mocked, villified, ignored.

And the fact Luke was treated with sympathy, but Octavian not. Luke, who tried to kill Percy, a childre, a lot of times. Luke, who used Annabeth feelings and emotional attachment to manipulate her. Luke, who was 19-22 years old and groomed Silena, who was 14-18 years old. Luke, who poisoned Talia’s tree. Luke, who had no regards for Grover, the satyr that saved him. Luke was treated with sympathy. But not Octavian. Not the mentally ill child who was losing the touch with reality during the series. Not the guy who was just doing what he was raised to do.

I mean, I don’t even like Octavian and I cannot stand it.

Gwen

Guys, Octavian did a lot of bad things but killing Gwen wasn’t one of those thing. It is so no sense for a lot of reasons.

As we talked before he is anemic and he is also smart. This intelligent man, that is full aware of his physical limits, thought it would be a good idea to get in the midle of a chaotic fight? I don’t think so.

Some pages before that Percy hit Octavian and he fell like a straw man (according to the text, the first time I read it I thought he fainted).

Octavian always makes things because of a purpose, he isn’t just being mean because. He does bad things because his actions will give him something. Killing Gwen wouldn’t help him with anything.

Frank for some reason decided to look to Octavian during that mess and that doesn’t make any sense. He is in the camp for a month at this time the guy should’ve already known that Octavian doesn’t battle, he only commands. He saw Percy fighting for a couple of seconds during the war game and was already able to say how he fought.

Octavian was without his knive, but just minutes before he fainted, he could have lost it when he fell.

Frank said that Octavian seemed interested and not worried. But this is not enough to blame the guy, this is not enough to assume anything execpt that maybe Octavian has low empath.

Greeks

Octavian was a roman. To the romans the greeks didn’t exist anymore, and they were the enemy.

So, a random greek shows up, spends some days at the camp, becomes preator, and two of your most important gods appear and give a lot of attention to this greek. This is really suspicious. This greek also says that the romans should work with the greeks so they can defeat Gaea. And why you should trust this dude? He doesn’t show respect for the Roman culture. Then this huge war ship appears and this suspect greek guy says that they all come peace and the romans should not attack. Obviously you don’t believe it, and what happens they attack! As the good roman you are, your answer is to attack the greeks back.

The romans answers things with violence. This is why Reyna asked if Annabeth was a roman after the judo flip. This is why Hazel said she and Percy would be executed if he did a mistake during his period of probatio. Octavian was being roman. He was trying to protect and revenge his Camp against a long time enemy.

Not saying everything he did about it was logical, but this is because of his upbringing and his mental health.

Goals

I think it is really interisting the fact that Octavian main goal was to be a hero, not more powerful. Apollo didin’t say Octavian would become preator, he said Octavian would save New Rome.

I mean, since Octavian wanted to be preator and then became the pontifex maximum, so the logical think it would be to him wants more power. But no he wants to be a hero. A hero is someone that is respected, admired, liked and even loved. All the thing Octavian isn't. Don't get me wrong, Octavian is a bad person, there is a reason people dislike him. But he is also a lonely child that is hated by most of the camp.

Ableism

Octavian is often described as crazy, mad, insane. In his first appearence Percy said Octavian had madness in the eyes, and this was the way of the narrative warning us he was one of the bad guys. He is obviusly mentally ill, his mental health is obviusly getting worse, but everyone ignores it. Everyone ignores it, execpt when they are describing how insane his laugh is, how crazy he looks, how intense his gaze is. Everyone ignores it, until they need to remind us he is one of the antagonists.

Ending

The ending was terrible.

Octavian was obiously having a psychotic break, he was stumbling, laughing “in an insane” way, and he didn’t realize his jewelry was in fire. And then what happens? Michael Kahale, the person he most trusted, his problaby only friends appeared, saw the situation and did nothing.

Octavian didn’t kill himself. He didn’t know his clothes were tied in the onager. It wasn’t a sacrifice. It was an aciddent.

Nico stopped Will Solace who was trying to warn it because some “deaths are inevitable”. Nico, also a mentally ill character saw Octavian in the vulnerable state he was and did nothing to help him. And when Nico was seeing Octavian lunch himself to the sky he thought that this was a relief. No one was sad, no one thought this was a tragedy, no one cared. Octavian was dead and that was a relief.

The guy was so desperate to be the hero and no one even cared about his death. It is horrible.

Another sorry for the weird tense of the text.

If you want to read this is my post about Octavian and Azula and how their mental illness were treated differently.

Best regards,

Me.

Ps. We need to start talking how the way Bryce was written was ableist.

#pjo #hoo #rick riordan critical #rr crit #rick riordan ableism #octavian #pjo octavian #hoo octavian #octavian ableism #octavian analysis

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floralseokjin · 3 years

Text

⤑ made-up love song drabbles

Seokjin’s chapter ix

kim seokjin x reader warnings; angst, this feels pretty heavy at certain points but gets lighter as you go on, there’s a therapy session included, and just a lot of introspection words; 7,459

author’s note; this kind of ran away with me, wasn’t expecting it to be so long haha but I hope you enjoy!

Read the original chapter ix here

↪︎ read the series here / and drabbles here

After you left Seokjin immediately poured the rest of his whisky down the sink and rinsed his glass. His mind was whirring, head heavy and starting to throb. He swallowed two painkillers down with some water and took a deep breath. He felt like crying. It felt like everything was crumbling around him. All his recent happiness, all his progress, and now possibly it seemed, his relationship with you…

He’d wanted nothing more than to beg you to stay, and he had to an extent, but he knew it wasn’t right. He closed his eyes, not quite believing you’d witnessed all that. You probably thought he was a monster. He hadn’t lost his temper quite like that in a while, not since before the divorce… Embarrassment washed over him, yet he couldn’t stop himself from still being mad at Nana. He knew what you said made sense. He knew he’d been out of line but Nana continuously goaded him. She’d done so throughout their marriage. But he was no saint, he knew how to provoke her too. It’s what they did best.

He moved away from the sink and tried to quash his anger, instead thinking of you and how much he had hurt and upset you. He hadn’t meant for it to get that bad, and he knew deep down that the reason he was so angry was because he’d brought it all on himself. He caused the incident by keeping his relationship with you secret. It hadn’t been on purpose, he wasn’t being vindictive, if anyone would believe him. He just… He had been selfish. He didn’t want to ruin anything because he was finally really happy after god knows how long. It was stupid in hindsight, but what was done was done now.

He reached for Arin’s mug of hot chocolate and fresh waves of guilt and emotion hit him. She didn’t deserve any of this. He needed to be there for her, to push his own troubles away and put on a brave face because none of this was her fault. She needed to know that. Thankfully, the drink hadn’t grown cold yet, and he finished it off with some cream and mini marshmallows. He took one last deep breath and made his way down the hallway. Moping was no good for him. That’s what Chaewon always said.

Arin looked happy to see him, instantly reaching out to him as he took a seat next to her. He wrapped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her close, kissing the top of her head. He immediately felt lighter with relief. His daughter had always been his magical cure, and even though a cuddle wouldn’t make everything in his life right again, it certainly helped, and was very much needed. She asked where you were at one point, and unsure what to say, and feeling like shit for lying, he quickly said you needed to be somewhere. Arin probably didn’t buy it, looking dubious as a result of today, bus she didn’t say anything, asking instead if they could watch a movie.

She wasn’t very talkative, and he didn’t blame her. Neither was he. He spent most of Shrek the Third lost in his own thoughts. As his anger slowly drifted away, shame replaced it. He’d been absolutely awful today and even if some of the things he’d said to Nana came from a valid place of concern, most were shouted for no reason other than frustration and hatred on his part. He was ashamed of himself.

After the movie finished, Arin complained she was feeling hungry, so he left her to pick a new movie while he found something to cook up for dinner. He caught sight of the bowl of salad and his heart sunk, remembering the picnic outside. There was no salvaging it now, everything had probably spoiled in the sun, and as he waited for Arin’s dinner to cook, he went outside with a garbage bag, throwing away all the food you’d painstakingly prepared. It felt like he was throwing your relationship in the trash. He didn’t eat with that thought in mind, managing one piece of toast before it turned on him.

At around 6pm his phone started to ring, vibrating in his front pocket and giving him a shock. For a split second he prayed it was you, but he knew he was being foolish. You needed time and if he was being honest with himself, so did he. He needed to concentrate on Arin tonight, as much as he…loved…you, his daughter’s wellbeing was the most important thing. If he could just make sure Arin was okay, then tomorrow he could concentrate on you and him.

Pulling out the device he saw it was Nana. He suddenly felt very, very sick but picked up with a cautious hello. He was almost 100% sure she wanted to speak with Arin, the only way she could seeing as Arin was too young to have a phone of her own, but he was still wary, not wanting a repeat of earlier.

“I want to speak to my daughter.” There was anger to her tone, and he knew her well enough to understand she had her guard up right now. She’d left his place upset and emotional, and that was two of the things she hated people seeing. Especially him. She hated being vulnerable.

Seokjin sighed weakly. “Nana, come on, don’t be like that.” He hesitated, wanting to say sorry for today but the word wouldn’t come. Despite the guilt setting in, he was still pretty angry and frustrated himself.

“I want to speak with Arin,” she repeated. “Will you let me?”

“Of course I will,” he replied. What did she take him for?

He turned to Arin, ready to tell her it was her mom on the phone, but she was already waiting, her ears probably catching Nana’s name a few seconds previous. He smiled gently at her and passed his cell phone over. He tried to concentrate on the television as they spoke, not wanting to eavesdrop. Arin was uncharacteristically quiet as she hummed along to whatever Nana was saying, the occasional okay and I know slipping from her lips as she curled a lock of hair around her finger over and over again, but he understood why. Today had been overwhelming for everyone involved but especially her. She hadn’t seen or heard them argue in a long time, both he and Nana careful to hide them from her as of late. Today had been an awful mistake and the now a stronger wave of guilt was eating him up.

After a few minutes he heard Arin tell her mother she loved her and then she hung up, returning the phone to Seokjin. He stretched over and placed the device on the coffee table, turning back to his daughter apologetically. “I’m sorry about today, Arin.”

She immediately flung herself into his arms, wrapping hers around his sides to hug him tight. He squeezed her right back, running his fingers through her hair gently. “Daddy was really angry, I shouldn’t have shouted.”

“Mommy shouted too,” she reminded him. “She was angry that I called Y/N my stepmom.” Hesitantly she looked up at him, her eyes wide with worry. “I didn’t know it was wrong.”

Seokjin sighed gently, trying to see things from Nana’s point of view. “It’s not a wrong word. It’s just a word that hurt your mother’s feelings.” Arin looked a little confused by that explanation, and suddenly Seokjin felt the urge to be as honest as he could with her. She was still young, yes, but she wasn’t stupid. Far from it actually. She deserved not to be kept in the dark.

“She… she didn’t know that Y/N is my girlfriend.”

“Why?”

“I was wrong and didn’t tell her.”

Arin stayed silent as she mulled his words over. After a few moments she simply said, “I didn’t know that.”

Seokjin ran a hand down her back, choosing his next words carefully. “Will you tell me what happened today? How mommy found out?”

Arin wriggled away from him to get comfier, sitting back against the sofa again. Seokjin copied, lifting his arm up so she could cuddle up to him. “She asked if I had a new bracelet and I told her Y/N had bought it for me last weekend when I stayed with her.”

Looking down at her wrist now, Seokjin saw no bracelet and he guessed Arin had taken it off in a bid not to hurt her mom even more. She was such a sweet child, always thinking of other people’s feelings.

“Mommy asked who she was and I said she was my stepmom – only because Suzie told me that’s what she is. Suzie has one too and it was fun because then we both had stepmoms.”

Seokjin nodded along in understanding. “It’s okay, it was only a misunderstanding. But to use that word it needs to be discussed first, okay?”

It was Arin’s turn to nod and Seokjin continued carefully. He was well aware everything was up in the air now so it hurt hearing the words that came out of his own month. “Right now Y/N is just Y/N. Before we use that word we have to make sure she likes it, alright? And mommy too.”

“I didn’t know.”

“I know you didn’t,” he comforted, giving her shoulder a reassuring squeeze. He wasn’t even too sure she knew what exactly the word meant.

They both stayed silent for a little while before Arin spoke again. “You and mommy haven’t argued for a long time until today…because I said that word…”

“Hey,” Seokjin exclaimed softly wanting her to look his way. “We didn’t argue because of you. None of this is your fault, okay? It’s my fault and I’m really sorry.”

She gave him a small smile and patted his head. “It’s okay, daddy. I still love you.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle slightly. He could always count on his daughter to cheer him up. “Thank you, Arin.” He kissed her cheek. “I love you too. Very much.”

The new week started off badly. He had been foolish to think Mondays were something of a fresh start, foolish to think calling you first thing in the morning was a good idea, and as you told him you needed some space and that you’d call him once the week was over he couldn’t help but think the worst. You’d insisted that you weren’t mad at him, and you had no reason to lie to him, but there was no doubt you were upset… overwhelmed. That morning he’d woken up even more ashamed of the way he’d acted the day before, wincing as he remembered the way he’d lost his temper. He’d sworn that he would never let that side of himself appear ever again, but it was easier said than done. Nana had struck a nerve with the way she had spoken to you and it had been impossible to keep his cool.

He felt deeply ashamed when he thought about how confused you must have felt watching he and his ex-wife hurl abuse at each other. Deeply ashamed when he thought about the way you’d found out things he had never told you… You were hurt he’d never let you know what triggered his divorce, and he understood why completely. It wasn’t like it hadn’t crossed his mind to share such a personal detail with you, it had, of course it had, he just couldn’t bring himself to say the words. Your experience with infidelity was the complete opposite of his. You had your heart torn to pieces by your ex-fiancé and he had his ego bruised… His marriage with Nana had already been completely over, he just didn’t have the guts to get out. She was correct, he was a coward through and through.

But most of all he was deeply ashamed of his behaviour entirely. He had never meant to compare the both of you. He had never meant to use you to hurt Nana. It was extremely petty, such a low blow, and he didn’t know where it had come from. Rage had washed over him and he’d spat words that he couldn’t take back. It was the worst thing he’d ever done in his entire life, and despite the grievances he had with Nana, he regretted those words deeply. He hadn’t wanted to hurt her like that. It was shameful, and he felt horrendous for hurting both women with his foolish behaviour.

Was there a happy ending after this? If Nana didn’t already hate him, she did now, and you were probably not too far behind. You’d seen him at his most poisonous, heard him use you to prove a point, found out things he’d kept from you, and learned he’d kept you a secret from his ex-wife. How embarrassed you must have felt… How confused… He’d made so many mistakes along the way, it was a wonder they hadn’t caught up with him sooner…

He wouldn’t be able to bear it if you wound up hating him. Not when he loved you so much. He hadn’t even had a chance to confess yet, coming so close to it Saturday night but backing out because he was scared it was too soon. He’d made the decision there and then to tell you once he took you to Paris, getting swept away with the idea and the romance of it all, but now the regret for not professing his love that night was like a lead weight inside his chest. Would it have changed anything? Would yesterday have had a different outcome?

And while he was regretting things, he regretted not letting Nana know about the relationship. Yesterday could have been avoided completely – maybe.

The more he thought, the worse it got and by Tuesday he could feel himself spiralling. He knew the feeling all too well. Soobin had already worked out something was the matter. (His lack of morning shave a dead giveaway.) And that meant he was doing a terrible job at hiding his mood. He couldn’t have Arin sensing the same. She obviously hadn’t forgotten about the weekend and wouldn’t anytime soon, but he couldn’t make it worse for her. He needed to be there for her, as her father, not too busy distracted with his own misery. It was selfish.

But he couldn’t suppress it all. He knew that was unhealthy. So, Tuesday night, once Arin was tucked up in bed sound asleep, he called the one person his former happiness had been neglecting for months now…

“Seokjin,” Chaewon greeted, her warm voice laced with surprise. “Long time no speak.”

He felt guilt immediately wash over him. “Yeah… I’m sorry about that.” It was stupid really, she wasn’t taking it personally, he could guarantee that, but nevertheless it was an emotion he was all too familiar with these days.

Chaewon chuckled. “Don’t apologise for being happy and not needing me.”

His heart twisted.

She sensed his trouble. “Jin?”

He hesitated, looking down at the bottle of whisky sat at his desk. He was in his home office. “Something happened.”

There was silence as his therapist processed his vague words before she pressed him gently, “Oh?”

He took a breath. “Are you free to talk?”

“Yes, of course.”

“I’m sorry for calling you out of hours.” He apologised. “Don’t feel bad about billing me for this. I’ll even pay double.”

“Seokjin, don’t be silly,” she told him softly. “Let’s name this a friendship call. Now, what’s wrong?” She sensed the last bit of reluctance he was holding onto. “Come on, you can tell me anything.”

He sighed. “I don’t know where to start.”

“How about from the beginning?”

They spoke for an hour in the end, Chaewon listening attentively as he explained the weekend’s events. He left nothing out, or least what he could remember. He made no attempt to hide his wrongdoings or soften the story. He didn’t want to. He knew he had done wrong. She was sympathetic, but she didn’t mince her words when it came to her disappoint in him.

After the argument he and Nana had gotten into just before Arin had moved in with him, he had worked hard with Chaewon to find a way to curb the anger he often felt when he and his ex-wife communicated. He thought he had been successful, but now he realised all he’d done was find ways to avoid it. He barely spoke to Nana unless he had to, a hello barely exchanged when she called in the evenings to speak to their daughter. A text shared to confirm when Arin would get picked up for the weekend, or one shared to cancel visits… He saw her even less. Jia, Nana’s PA and closest friend was the one who collected their daughter, and he knew it was because his ex-wife wanted to avoid him just as much.

In the long term they had just been making things worse. That’s why last Sunday had been so bad. A build-up of every single frustration felt since the last time they’d seen one another, because no doubt Nana had her own list. It was a recipe for disaster.

It felt good to confide in someone though, someone who knew him very well on a professional and personal level. Chaewon was amazing at putting him in his place so kindly. It was a gift really, and he appreciated it immensely. The older woman saw his negative traits but never judged him. She understood them and tried her best to help him with them. He guessed that was her job, but she did it so well it was hard not to see her as some sort of friend.

That’s why when she asked to see him in person tomorrow he didn’t hesitate to free up his schedule. Truth was, he wanted it too. His mind was still clouded and he needed her insight. Her advice. He wanted a good night sleep too but he didn’t think that would be possible any time soon, no matter how much Chaewon tried to help him. Not when his sheets continued to smell like you…

“It’s about time you both let go of the past.”

Seokjin let Chaewon’s words sink in as he sat opposite her, nervously chewing on a nail. It wasn’t a habit of his, but it was somewhat of a distraction right now. A comfort. They should have let go of the past a long time ago. Maybe then they would have divorced sooner. Maybe then there would be less resentment….

“Arin is the one thing you have in common and you need to work together in order to be the best possible parents you can.”

That cut his heart deep, a twinge similar to what he’d felt all week. Ever since you left. “I know,” he replied quietly. “It’s just…”

He couldn’t continue. Despite how he’d insinuated Nana was a bad mother, he didn’t think that deep down. They both loved their daughter equally, but that love was separate. It had been separate practically since she was born. Arin was missing their combined love, although she knew no different…

“You need to let go of all that bitterness and resentment.” Chaewon continued. Words she had said fairly regularly for the last two years or so. “For your sake, for Arin’s…” But now there was a new addition. “…and Y/N’s.”

Seokjin snorted. “Who said I haven’t scared her away already?”

Chaewon stare turned a little stern. “It was a shock to the system, anyone would need some time to process what happened.” When he stayed silent, she continued. “You have to make her see you’re trying your best to change things. You need to take responsibility for your actions.”

“I will.”

He wanted nothing more than to apologise profusely and answer any questions you had, but you’d requested time first and he was listening. He was just scared that time would work against him. He continued on, ignoring his deepest, darkest worry.

“It’s not fair on her. She should never have witnessed all that, and it just drums in how unfair this has been to Arin her whole life.” Arin had been the witness to many an argument when he and Nana were still married. “I hurt the people closet to me because of my careless actions,” he concluded with a sad smile. Time after time.

“And it’s not too late to change that,” Chaewon reminded. “Put a stop to all this nonsense.”

Seokjin’s smile grew for a millisecond, feeling like a child getting told off.

“Your marriage with Nana didn’t work out, that’s life. But you have a beautiful little girl together. That’s the most important thing, and it goes hand in hand with your own happiness.” She paused and then continued. “It’s very obvious that Y/N brings a great deal of that to the table.”

Yes, you did make him deliriously happy. He felt young again when he was with you. He felt invincible. Loved. He felt loved.

“Concentrate on both of them – Arin and Y/N – and make some changes. Talk to Nana – civilly. Make this work and you can all be happy. I promise you that.”

He had never heard Chaewon like this before, she was practically pleading with him. He let out a little laugh. “You make it sound so simple.”

She simply smiled at him. “If you’re determined enough, it is.”

“Mom wants to talk to you.”

Seokjin looked at his phone outstretched in Arin’s hand with slight confusion. For the past four nights, ever since Sunday, Nana had spoken with Arin just before she had to get ready for bed. It was routine now, another avoidance, he exchanged a hello with her and then passed the phone on. Her tone less defensive as the days went on. Tonight had been the same despite his session with Chaewon this lunchtime. But to his surprise, maybe Nana was making the first move.

He took the phone from Arin with a smile, not wanting to make her nervous. Usually he left her alone to speak to her mother, not wanting to pry or insert himself but tonight he was sat next to her on the sofa, replying to emails on his laptop. He hadn’t been listening at all, too engrossed with finalising details for an upcoming project, so of course it had come as a shock to find Arin passing the phone to him.

“Hello?”

“I was just wondering if I could have Arin this weekend.” Nana totally bypassed a greeting of any kind, but she wasn’t demanding in her tone, nor defensive, it was just the way she was. She’d always been straight to the point, no time for pleasantries, and many years ago, when they’d first met, he’d found it highly amusing.

“Um, of course,” he replied, taken back a little. He would be more than happy for her to have Arin. It wasn’t her weekend, but that had never bothered him before. He wanted Arin to see her as much as possible. It was only fair seeing as their daughter now lived with him.

There was a brief silence before Nana spoke again. Had she been expecting him to say no? Surely not. But then again, after last weekend maybe her worries were valid. She found her bearings. “What time does she finish school? I’m taking Friday out, I’ll drive down and collect her.”

Seokjin couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow in surprise. Nana had not once collected Arin herself. “She finishes at 3.”

Nana hesitated, “Do you think they’d let her finish early?”

“I don’t know… It’s usually only emergencies –”

“Never mind,” she stopped him. “There was just a bunch of things I’d planned, thought we could get a head start, it’s fine.”

He glanced over at Arin who was watching him hopefully. It was obvious what their phone call had entailed. They’d been making plans for the weekend and Arin was visibly excited. He smiled at her.

“I could always phone the school tomorrow,” he suggested to Nana. “See if it’s possible. Maybe she could skip the whole day?”

Nana sounded ecstatic. Something he hadn’t heard in years. “Really? Do you think there’s a chance they’d say yes?”

He shrugged to himself. “It’s just one day, I don’t see why not.”

Nana was busy thinking. “Maybe I could take tomorrow afternoon away from the office too… Pick her up at 3.”

It was his turn to hesitate now, opening his mouth ready to suggest something. He knew he owed his ex-wife an apology, but over the phone just wouldn’t do. He needed to see her. He went for it. “Or I could do it for you? I can drive her to you.”

“You would do that?” She sounded shocked.

“If she’s allowed to miss a day then yes.”

“Oh.” It wasn’t often Nana was left speechless. “Okay,” she agreed after a moment. “That would be great actually.”

His attention went back to Arin then, who was practically vibrating with excitement next to him. His replies hadn’t given away much, but it was enough to tell her she’d be seeing her mother this weekend – and possibly skipping a day of school. He grinned at her and she clung to his arm.

“Can I say bye to mom?”

“In a minute, Arin,” he chuckled, amused by her eagerness. “We’re not done yet.” His next sentence was directed at Nana. “I’ll text you tomorrow morning and let you know what the principal said.”

For the first time in god knows how long there was no malice or sarcasm attached to her gratitude. “Thank you, Seokjin.”

He took it as a positive sign. Things were changing. They would change.

The next day he dropped Arin off at school himself. The plan had been to head to reception and ask if he could talk with Principal Jung in person, but after saying his goodbyes and watching Arin meet up with some friends in the playground he began to get second thoughts. What if he accidentally bumped into you? He was on pins even in the parking lot. He wanted to give you all the space necessary and the last thing you probably wanted to see was him walking towards you in the corridor. At work.

No, instead he drove to his office, phoning the principal as soon as he’d finished up his morning meeting. Hoseok – as he’d been told to call him – was completely understanding. Seokjin didn’t even have to whip out the sob story about Arin missing her mom dearly. Dirty tactics were always the last resort, and he could talk a good game, but thankfully his skill wasn’t needed today. Arin was all set to go this evening.

The drive wasn’t a long one thankfully, just under an hour as Nana lived in the neighbouring city. This wasn’t the first time he’d been to Nana’s penthouse, the place she’d bought after they’d sold their family home, but the last time had been pretty explosive. Not nearly as bad as last weekend, but close. Arin had thankfully been waiting in the car for him that time, as he and her mother argued over where she should live permanently.

Seokjin stood beside Arin in the elevator, feeling nervous for the conversation he wanted to have. He was never above apologising when he was in the wrong, but with his ex-wife saying sorry had never come easily. It was childish and he knew he needed to change, so today was the perfect test. If he wanted a clean slate he had to be as honest as possible.

“Mommyyy,” Arin squealed as she opened the door to greet them, barrelling into her practically.

Seokjin stood back as they hugged, a soft smile on his face.

“Arin, I missed you,” Nana informed her, breaking away to take her bag. As she did so, she glanced at Seokjin, then back at their daughter. “Listen, darling, go to your room for a little while so I can speak to daddy.”

Seokjin felt a little relieved. At least they were on the same page – potentially.

Arin though, was unsure, looking between her parents as she spoke. “I don’t want to. What if you argue again?”

He felt his heart break at her words. “We won’t, sweetie,” he reassured, bending down to look her in the eyes. “I promise.”

She still looked dubious, but then Nana took over, her voice light and breezy. “We won’t be long, okay? Think about what pizza you want to order for dinner.”

Arin’s eyes lit up at that request and Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle. That pizza obsession of hers was getting dangerous. “Okay,” she agreed easily, waving to him before she skipped off to the furthest part of the apartment.

Seokjin watched her leave before rising up again, tugging down the ends of his jacket. Nana was looking at him, an unreadable expression on her face, but he knew it wasn’t anger she was feeling, so that was a plus. He thought back to Sunday, how mad they had both been, how upset Nana had looked as she’d rushed off. The guilt came back.

He exhaled. He might as well just bite the bullet. “I’m sorry for calling you a terrible mother. I didn’t mean it.”

Nana stayed silent but her arms wrapped around herself. It was such a vulnerable action, it took him by surprise.

He continued. “I was just frustrated. I let things build up and exploded.”

She stared him straight in the eyes, shoulders sagging a little but her voice was strong. “You know I love our daughter half to death.”

“I do,” he agreed. “I don’t doubt that.”

She look relieved. It made him feel oddly sad. He had never wanted to make her doubt herself as a mother. He was a piece of shit.

Still, she needed to understand some things. His point of view and where he was coming from. His frustrations weren’t all for nothing. They were valid. “But you have to understand I’m the one who has to pick up the pieces when you end up cancelling on her. It takes its toll.”

Nana’s gaze flickered to the floor as she whispered. “I’m trying to be better.” Then she looked up again, her voice stronger. “I’m trying to free my weekends up. I’m trying not to do as much. I thought maybe I could even have her for an evening every weekday? I could pick her up from school, take her out for dinner. I know it’s a distance but maybe I could get every Wednesday afternoon away from work... Hopefully.”

Seokjin was impressed. Nana lived and breathed work so to hear she was thinking about possibly taking an afternoon away every week was… It made him very happy. “She’d love that,” he grinned genuinely. “She misses you a lot.”

Nana couldn’t help but smile too. “I miss her always.” With a slight chuckle she continued, “This apartment is so quiet without her.”

Seokjin looked down at his feet and grimaced slightly. He knew that feeling all too well. Living without Arin had been close to torture after the divorce. Everything felt so silent, the house gigantic and lonely. He hated the thought of Nana feeling the same way. “You can see her any time, Nana,” he murmured. “I’ll never try to stop you.”

Despite everything, their grievances toward one another, they had and would always co-parent well. Arin was their number one priority and she needed both parents in her life.

“I know that,” Nana nodded, “and I’d never try to take her from you.”

It didn’t bear to think about, but he had to admit, sometimes it was easy for irrational thoughts to creep in when someone was left feeling insecure.

“She loves living with you. She’s really settled at her new school, she never stops talking about her friends.” Nana continued, making small talk of sorts. He couldn’t remember the last time they’d done this. “She’s the happiest I’ve ever seen her.”

Seokjin nodded in agreement. She loved her new school, her new friends – her new life, you could say. That was easy to see.

Nana cleared her throat, dropping her arms to her sides. “I apologise too. I was out of line turning up at your door like that. I was just so mad... so hurt.” She took a few seconds. “I wish you’d just told me.”

“I should have.” She was absolutely right. “I see that now and I regret it. It was wrong of me to keep my new relationship from you. I wasn’t doing it to be vindictive. I just...” he stopped himself. Even though they weren’t excuses, they felt like they were. His reasons didn’t matter.

“You should have been the first to know because of Arin. If I was in your shoes, if it was the other way around, I would have been angry too.” He stopped and sighed at his stupidity. “I never meant to hurt you, neither did Y/N. She actually had no clue you didn’t know until that day.”

Nana’s eyes widened with shock, before she looked regretful. “Yeah, that one makes me feel even guiltier. I shouldn’t have spoken to her the way I did. It was a shock to hear Arin speaking about a stranger like that. A stranger I had no clue existed.”

Seokjin appreciated her apology, but he needed to make sure she understood something. “Yeah, about that, Arin really has never called Y/N her stepmom. We’ve only been together for a few months. I spoke to her about it and Arin understands that’s not the case. It was just kids being kids.”

Nana nodded. “I shouldn’t have flown off the handle, and I should have listened to your explanation the first time around.”

He held her gaze. “I’m not trying to replace you, Nana.”

If that’s what she was worried about, it wasn’t the case. He had never meant to compare the two women and he regretted it deeply.

Nana’s lips quirked up at the side, her voice relaxed and at ease. “But eventually Arin will call her that.”

His eyebrows shot up, understanding what she was getting at. “I don’t know,” he shook his head. His relationship with you was up in the air right now. He’d made one too many mistakes.

Nana brushed him off with sway of her hand. “I guess I’ll learn to deal with it when the time comes.”

He admitted defeat. “And I’ll have to do the same.”

It was inevitable really. One day Arin would probably have two blended families and while he really wanted his to be with you, he didn’t want to get his hopes up right now.

Nana snorted. “Fat chance of that happening. I don’t have time to fall in love again.”

He stayed silent, unsure what to say. He’d thought the same once upon a time. Until you walked straight into his life. (Or, more fittingly, until he’d reversed straight into yours.) Everyone deserved love in their life and he hoped that one day his ex-wife would find it again.

She was looking over at him sadly now, eyes softening, and it was almost jarring to see her show this much emotion in front of him. “I did love you, you know,” she murmured before laughing quietly at herself. “I felt like I never told you enough, but in the beginning it was good, right?”

“It was.” Seokjin hated getting nostalgic, in fact, he actively avoided it, but in this moment he let himself go. Ten years ago, he and Nana had fallen hard for one another. It was fast and exhilarating but – “We just…”

“Rushed into things that weren’t meant to be?” She finished for him.

He’d been so eager to marry before he was thirty, to follow in his parents’ footsteps. He wanted, no, needed, to become CEO. He needed to build something he could be proud of, and having a family fit into that logic. He’d had tunnel vision, but it wasn’t all bad.

“I can’t regret it though,” he told Nana softly, “because we made Arin.”

“At least we agree on one thing,” she chuckled.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

It was strange speaking like this with one another. He couldn’t even think of the last time something similar had happened. They were always too busy at one another’s throats, not listening to what the other had to say. Now all that fight had gone. They were both exhausted from years of bitterness. Years of fighting.

He didn’t want to fight anymore.

Nana seemed to think the same.

“I’m ashamed she had to hear us fight like that,” she said. “I apologised on the phone but…”

“She’s okay.” He reassured. “I think she still thinks it’s her fault a little though. I’ve tried telling her it wasn’t repeatedly.”

“I’ll talk to her over dinner.”

“Good idea.”

There was a pregnant pause before Nana chuckled. “This is the first time we’ve spoken so civilly in a long time.” She hesitated, wanting to say something else. He waited patiently, curious. “Maybe we should think about talking it out with a professional?”

He raised his eyebrows. It wasn’t a bad idea actually, but then… thing seemed to be working out well on their own right now. “Maybe we should see how things go first? Now that we know how one another feels.” They weren’t out of the dark yet, but it was looking hopeful. “But if you think it will help then I won’t refuse,” he added, wanting to show how seriously he was taking this.

She smiled slightly. “Okay, we’ll see how things go.”

It seemed like the conversation had run its course then, and Seokjin shuffled, about to suggest he head out now, but Nana spoke again. “Are you okay?” She asked. “No offence, but you look like shit.”

He laughed, actually laughed, at her words. He could always count on her to be honest with him. “I haven’t been sleeping very well,” he admitted, “but talking with you definitely helped.”

She eyed him doubtfully. “I hope I haven’t ruined things with you and Y/N. I can talk with her if you want?”

“No, it’s fine,” he shook his hand.

She looked down, feeling foolish. “I guess I did enough damage.”

He chuckled. “No, pretty sure I did that all on my own.”

Looking up, her mouth opened, as if she was about to ask him what he meant but stopped herself at the last second. She wasn’t there yet, and neither was he.

He took a step back. “I should go.”

Nana went to follow him to the door. “I’ll have her back by Sunday. Do you want to say goodbye?” She saw his nod and called for their daughter, her voice echoing off the walls. “Arin? Arin, darling, come here and say bye to your dad.”

A few seconds later he heard Arin’s footsteps getting closer, she hovered by the entryway, looking worried for a second, as if she was expecting the worst but then she saw her parents smiling faces and relaxed instantly.

“I’ll see you Sunday, okay?” Seokjin told her as she made her way towards him. He reached to pick her up, something she scolded him over sometimes because it was “embarrassing” now. She was getting older, he kept forgetting, because to him she would always be his little girl. This time however, she let him do so, wrapping her arms around his neck as she kissed his cheek.

“Okay, bye daddy. Love you.”

“Love you, too,” he grinned, kissing her back before he put her down.

Nana watched on with a grin of her own.

Being home alone was odd. Seokjin couldn’t remember the last time he’d been on his own. In the week Misook was here to help out with Arin and the housework, then every other weekend she often dropped in when he needed her. When the house wasn’t occupied by his daughter or Misook, you were here with him, so it had been quite a while since it was just him. It reminded him of the past, when he’d lived here all alone. He never wanted to go back to that.

He was happy to see Friday roll around. It felt like he’d been waiting all his life. Just one more day and he’d get to speak to you. The lack of communication was killing him. Ever since you’d began dating you’d spoken every day. It felt strange to be without that, like he was missing a part of himself. He’d been able to distract himself with work throughout the week, but no amount of distractions could really stop him from thinking about you. Stop him from missing you. Because he did. Terribly.

The photo on his desk didn’t help matters either – the two of you smiling together on the fishing trip he’d organised over the summer – but like hell was he hiding it away in a drawer.

It was probably best that Arin was with Nana this weekend. It gave you both some time to talk and sort things out – hopefully. He was praying so hard that everything would be okay, but he was getting ready to fight for you. Just in case. Of course he would listen to what you had to say, and respect it too, but if it happened to be bad news he would try his best to make you see how sorry he was and how hard he was trying to change. He couldn’t lose you. Not when he loved you so much.

You made him want to be a better man.

He got home pretty late from the office, staying just to avoid an empty house and after having a quick shower and ordering takeout, he decided on an early night. This week had been mentally and emotionally draining so it was probably for the best. Plus the sooner he slept the sooner tomorrow would come.

He’d just stepped out of the bathroom when he heard his phone ring in his sweatpants pocket. He pulled the device out automatically, expecting it to be Namjoon, because who else would be calling at this time? But to his surprise and utter amazement, he saw your name flashing across his screen.

His heart began to pound embarrassingly loud and he rushed to answer, sounding a little breathless as he murmured your name.

“Hey, you,” your replied, and he swore he could hear the smile in your voice. His shoulders instantly released the tension he hadn’t realised they’d been holding.

“I wasn’t expecting you to call tonight.” He heard himself say, cursing himself because it sounded so dumb. He was over the moon you’d decided to call. Of course he was.

“Sorry, I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“Of course not,” he rushed. “Well,” he laughed, “I was just about to head to bed.”

You laughed along softly, the sound making his heart sing. “I was going to wait until tomorrow but Soojung is with Taehyung tonight and being alone means I can’t stop thinking about you.”

He couldn’t stop the sigh of relief that slipped past his lips. It was so good to hear you say that. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you all week. Are you ready to talk? I’m willing to answer any questions you have.” He meant every word.

“I’m ready,” you replied. “Should I come over? I don’t want to do this over the phone.”

“I can come to you?” He suggested instead, not wanting you to go out of your way for him. “Arin’s with Nana until Sunday.”

“Oh. Okay. Now?”

“It’s not too late?”

“No, it’s fine.” You sounded a little eager and that just made even more relieved. He’d been expecting the worst all along. “I really want to see you.”

He smiled, happiness overwhelming him. “I’ll be there soon, okay? Really soon.” As he spoke he made his way into the closet, opening up his drawers to find a clean t-shirt.

“Don’t speed,” you told him jokingly.

“Of course I won’t,” he laughed. “I’m going to hang up now but I won’t be long.”

“Okay, see you soon, Seokjin.”

He couldn’t stop the grin on his face as he said his final goodbye, his heart racing with excitement as he tore off his old shirt to put the new one on. It was a little creased, but it would do. He didn’t have time to find anything else.

He needed to see you.

He needed to be with you.

#seokjin fanfic #bts fanfic #jin fanfic #fic:mls #mls:drabbles #floralseokjin:writings

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excitedlysuffering · 4 years

Text

When You Make Up

AHA! YES FINALLY! I’ve been such a procrastinator lmao🤣💀 it’s finally out, the Part 2 to How He Hurts Your Feelings.

Naruto~

It had been a few days since you had last seen the Uzumaki and from the way you were coping, one would have assumed it had been months. Naruto was always there to make you laugh and be happy, but without him, everything had seemed a bit bleaker.

You stayed holed up in your room, trying to keep yourself from going to him, but it was an uphill battle. It was well past afternoon, but you were still in bed feeling slightly less miserable than before, but still not great.

That’s when you heard it, a knocking so loud and persistent that it couldn’t be ignored. Grumbling all the way, you dragged yourself to your door. You were ready to scream when no one was there. Until you looked down and saw a takeout bag, with ‘Korean Grill’ spelled out on the front. The very same place you wanted to take Naruto…

Suspicious, you quickly went inside and set down the delicious smelling food. You tiptoed up to your room, not knowing what you expected to find, but you knew something was up.

In your room, or rather all over your room, were Naruto and some of his clones. Eight of them stood in a line, each one holding a small sign. In order, it read ‘I’m so sorry will you please forgive me?’

“Naru…” Even though he had hurt you deeply, you couldn’t help but acknowledge the thoughtfulness of his apology. The real one walked over to you, nervousness written all over his face. “I was a huge idiot and I hurt you… I regret every word I said and how selfish I’ve been.” You couldn’t help but throw your arms around his neck.

He was sorry and he had gone out of his way to do this. You felt your anger melting away as he hugged you back, nuzzling his face into your neck. “Of course, I forgive you, baka… I really missed you.” He sighed in relief. “I missed you too. Now, let’s go eat before your food gets cold.”

Sasuke~

Much to your relief, Ino had invited you to her flower shop to hang out. You had gotten tired of sulking around for the last three days and there was no better way to have your spirits lifted than to hang out with the optimistic blonde.

You stepped into her shop, confused as to why it was so dark and quiet. It was the middle of the day…

“Ino? What’s going on? Where are you?” Suddenly the lights turned on, revealing a bouquet of purple hyacinths, white tulips, and daffodils, all of which were flowers used commonly in apologies. But why were they here? You picked up the flowers, confused. Ino hadn’t done anything wrong? A note peeked up at you. Relieved to finally have some kind of explanation.

‘(Y/N),’ it read, ‘you’re probably wondering why you’re here. I didn’t think you would meet up with me if I asked you point-blank, so I asked Ino to help me. I was an idiot the other day, being rude and speaking before thinking… I let my pride get in the way and I hurt you. The truth is, after a lot of thinking while I was recovering, is that I need you more than I could’ve imagined. I’m so sorry for everything I put you through.’ -S.U.

Your hands trembled at the unexpected apology. Sasuke had a hard time saying small ‘sorry’ for small things, but for him to have given you this big of an apology? He really did mean what he said.

“(Y/N)? You’re probably still mad, and you have every right to be, but… I’m going to make it up to you. I’m going to better, for you.” The Uchiha appeared behind you, looking determined, but also a little nervous. Your gaze softened as you approached him.

“I believe you. I’m just glad to have you back.” His shoulders sagged with relief. He didn’t say anything, instead, pulling you into his chest in an uncharacteristic display of affection. You hugged him back without hesitation as you felt whole once again. “I am too… I never want to feel so lonely again. Forgive me?” You nodded against his chest, your answer was imminent. “Of course.”

Neji~

You were lost. You and Neji had never had a fight quite like this. When he left did he mean for it to be a final thing, or not? It had only been a day since he had blown up at you, but these questions had kept you up all night.

Your manuscript laid on your desk, untouched after Neji had thoroughly insulted it. You figured if even Neji hated it, why would anyone else buy it? Instead, you occupied your time stress cleaning. Everything in your home sparkled like the top of the Chrysler building (A/N: Kudos if you get the reference) by the time you were finished, but didn’t feel any better.

It wasn’t until you heard a quiet knocking on your front door that you realized just how much of a mess you had become in such a short time. You were only dressed in sweat pants and a tank top, but you couldn’t care less. No one worth dressing up for would be waiting on your doorstep.

It wasn’t until your eyes met familiar pearlescent ones that you realized just how much his absence had affected you. Even though you were still angry and hurt, you couldn’t but sag in relief that he wasn’t planning on ending things with you.

“Neji… um, come in…” Never had you felt so awkward around him, and he clearly picked up on that. “I was out of line yesterday… I know that. I didn’t mean what I said, I was just…” He paused as if unsure of himself, “I was jealous. You were spending so much time writing, I assumed that I had lost importance.”

You felt your eyes water at how nervous and hurt he sounded. Yes, what he had said the day before was disrespectful, but it had stemmed from you taking him for granted.

“I’m sorry too, Neji, I wasn’t thinking about how this was affecting you. I just wanted to… it doesn’t matter, I’m just glad you’re here.” He sighed in relief, hesitantly embracing you. “I am too, (Y/N).” You had no words to describe how right everything felt, so you said nothing, opting to instead to just cling to him.

Shikamaru~

You had successfully managed to avoid the lying Nara for a week’s time and you weren’t planning on changing that any time soon. If he didn’t want to see you, you would make sure he didn’t. That did not mean you were going to lock yourself inside your house and sulk. You, (F/N) (L/N) did not sulk.

In hindsight, though, you thought, maybe I should’ve stayed inside… Shikamaru had seen you walking you through the park and now you found yourself backed up into a tree, the furious boy in front of you.

“What is your problem, woman?! You’ve been avoiding me all week!” You scoffed, looking away. “I was trying not to bother you, don’t get so worked up.” He stared incredulously. “Bother? Since when is seeing my girlfriend a bother?” You stomped your foot, you knew it was childish, but you were angry. This had been bottled up for days and you could no longer hold it in.

“Since my boyfriend sent out a clone to see me after he’d been on a month-long mission! Come to think of it, that probably wasn’t even the first time!” His jaw dropped a little before his expression shifted to shame.

“It was the first time… I was still exhausted from the mission, but I didn’t want you to be disappointed.” Your glare softened a little.

“You could’ve just told me, Shika... we could’ve taken a nap, hell I would’ve waited to see you until you were up to it!” You sighed, draping your arms around his middle. “I thought it would work, I didn’t want to upset you or neglect you. Forgive me?”

You giggled a little. “For a genius, you can be quite slow Shika. Of course, I forgive you, just don’t do it again.” He breathed out a soft laugh as he hugged you tighter.

“I won’t. And I’ll have you know, I’m the genius. I don’t even know what slow means.” You laughed as the two of you walked through the park, hand in hand. And this time, you had the real Shikamaru all to yourself.

Kiba~

You held tighter onto your stomach, trying to quell the neverending pain. You had changed into dry clothes and you were now cuddled into your bed, pillows surrounding you. You knew you should probably be happy that Kiba had finally left but instead, a nagging feeling in your chest tormented you worse than your cramps.

You screamed into your pillow in frustration. If you didn’t distract yourself, and soon, your thoughts of Kiba would torture you. You rolled out of bed and stumbled out of the room to go search for something to eat. If there was anything that could help you, it was food.

After almost crying that there was no ice cream, you settled on a bowl of the sugariest cereal you could find. It wasn’t ice cream, by any means, but it was still unhealthy enough to do its job. Suddenly, you heard your doorknob click and then turn. Your eyes narrowed as Kiba and Akamaru scrambled in, Kiba with two bags in his hands.

“What are you doing here?” You hissed lowly. The Inuzuka’s face was pale with fear as he met your hard gaze. “Listen, I’m really sorry, I was really immature and bratty, and then after you closed your door, I smelled blood and realized you were on your period and I’ve been nothing but a huge jerk so I brought you stuff!” He rushed out in one breath, holding out the bags towards you like a peace offering.

Your mouth fell open momentarily as you processed everything that had just come out of his mouth. Cautiously you peered into the bag, still a smidge wary of him after all the pranks. Your heart melted a little as you saw the contents. Inside was (f/f) ice cream, a comfy blanket, chocolates, your favorite sweatshirt of his to steal, and some snacks.

You felt your eyes well up with tears as you looked up at your nervous boyfriend. “W-wait! Don’t cry, I can lea-” You pounced on him, cutting off his sentence. Your arms were around his neck and your legs were around his waist.

“You’re so amazing, Kiba! T-thank you!” You knew there was no reason to cry, but your out of wack emotions didn’t care. “So you forgive me then?!” You giggled through your tears at his hopeful voice. “Yeah… but I’m warning you, Kiba, I’m getting my revenge! After we cuddle…” you grinned.

Gaara~

You were beyond pissed off as you laid in your bed, being forced to listen to Gaara as he moved about the kitchen. After he’d all but blown you off hours before, you had come home and decided on an early bedtime. As much as you wanted to avoid him, it was near impossible since you two shared a flat.

You had assumed he’d come home after you were asleep and just get into bed quietly. But, unfortunately, luck was still not on your side. He’d come home far earlier than you’d imagined and was making a huge ruckus, and it only fueled your anger and hurt.

After an hour of the disrespect, you’d decided you’d had enough and you stomped into the kitchen, practically radiating murderous intent. “What in the hell are you doing?” You questioned, dangerously. The redhead turned around, shame clouding his eyes. “Oh, hello, I was just making dinner… I assume you never got to eat?”

Just then your eyes drifted to the table, which was beautifully set with (favorite meal) in the middle of the table. “Why are you doing this?” You whispered. Gaara moved to stand in front of you so you could see the seriousness in his expression.

“I know one meal can’t make up for the way I’ve been neglecting you, and for my behavior earlier, but I’m going to try, starting now. I was a fool and I could’ve lost you… please forgive me, (Y/N).” You looked away from his intense gaze, your stare once again landing on the delicious-looking meal.

Yes, he’d clearly put effort into this, but you were really hurt by his recent distance towards you. But, he was trying to spend more time with you and it would be counterproductive to deny that, and plus you had dearly missed your boyfriend.

“Okay, Gaara, I believe you,” You stated, looking back into his eyes. Your breath caught at the smile on his face as he sat you in your seat. “I swear, I’m going to make this up to you, (Y/N).” He pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.

Kakashi~

If it wasn’t the constricting wrapping around your stomach and shoulder, you would’ve forgotten about the wounds altogether. The dull aching was nothing in comparison to the stabbing sensation in your chest.

Kakashi had left the day before and there was still no sign of him. You couldn’t help but be antsy. Had he meant everything he said and did he plan on coming back? You were on the couch, struggling to rewrap your wounds with your bad shoulder as you pondered these things.

You hardly flinched as your door opened, choosing to ignore the silverette intruding into your home. It was silent even as he gently took the supplies from your hands and started doing the work himself.

You watched him with a blank expression as he worked, waiting for him to say something. After a few long minutes, he began to speak. “I was horrible last night. There’s no excuse, I know, but… I don’t want you to end up like them and I overreacted. Big time.”

You knew he was talking about all the friends and family he had lost to the shinobi world, and even though you weren’t anywhere near happy, you understood. By now he had finished dressing your wounds and was looking you in the eye. The eye you could see was red and puffy as if he’d been crying.

“I’m really sorry, (Y/N). I won’t ask you to forgive me because frankly, I don’t deserve that right now.” You sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck in a hug. He eagerly returned it, relieved you were willing to touch him. “You were a real jerk you know.” You stated. He nodded, “I was.” “And I worked really hard to get here, and I’m proud of my abilities,” You continued. He pressed a small kiss to your shoulder.

“As you should be. I really am proud of you too.” You cracked a small smile. “But, I love you, Kakashi, and as long as this doesn’t happen again, I forgive you.” He hugged you tighter, his hair tickling your cheek a little. “It won’t, I swear it to you.” You hummed in response, feeling much lighter than you had minutes before.

~Akatsuki~

Pein~

“To be clear, I think you’re both overreacting. Pein blew a tiny problem out of the water, but you also know how he gets when he’s stressed. He didn’t mean any of that.” You scowled at Itachi’s words, knowing he was probably correct.

“I hate it when you’re right, Itachi. Seriously.” He chuckled at your pout, patting your head. “You should go talk to hi-” You stopped him, with a wave of your hand. “Nope, nope, nope. He was in the wrong, so if he wants to talk, he can come to me and apologize.”

The ravenette looked up before standing up to leave. “Alright, good luck then, (Y/N).” You grabbed his wrist, desperate. “Wait, don’t leave me! I don’t know what to do!”

He raised an eyebrow. “But I just told you to go talk to him?” You let go, groaning. “But I don’t want to!” He sighed, leaving. “You’re whining, (Y/N).”

You stammered, shocked that he was just up and walking away. “So, I guess this is good timing then?” You shrieked, startled as you turned to face the very topic of your last conversation.

“Um...hi?” He sat down next to you, his frown deepening. “I was… wrong, earlier. I apologize for what I said. I wasn’t being fair.” Your jaw dropped in utter astonishment. Never had you ever heard Pein say anything about him being wrong.

“I found out what Hidan said and I’m surprised cut off his head was all you did.” You giggled a little. How could you stay mad when he was humbling himself like this? “He does know the right buttons to push. And I forgive you, I know you’ve been stressed lately, I didn’t mean to add to that.” You leaned your head on his shoulder as you spoke.

“You could never do that, (Y/N). Now, how about we go show Hidan what true pain is?” You just smirked and cracked your knuckles in response.

Deidara~

You had arrived in your room immediately after leaving Deidara and Sasori, but unfortunately, your room was just on the other side of the wall so it wasn’t like you had gone far. It was quiet for a little while, and you occupied yourself with a book you had found lying around the base.

“Sasori no Danna!” You rolled your eyes at Deidara’s frantic shout. Hopefully, nothing was going to explode. “What, brat? I’m working.” “We have to apologize to (Y/N), yeah!” Your attention was peaked now, and you sat against the wall as to not miss anything.

“I will do no such thing. I merely stated an opinion.” You shrugged, you hadn’t expected anything else from Sasori. “But we hurt her feelings, un! Her art is great, yeah!” “You hurt her feelings. You’re her boyfriend.” You heard the redhead click his tongue, clearly annoyed at being interrupted.

“Fine! But will you at least help me, un?!” “Absolutely not. I don’t like abstract and I won’t apologize for it.” You laughed lightly at the puppet’s stubbornness. “Please, Danna, un! I don’t even know why I said those things!” “I don’t know or care. Now go apologize, brat, I can’t take any more of your whining.”

You heard scrambling and then his door opened and closed. You all but jumped back on your bed so you wouldn’t be caught eavesdropping.

The door opened and the nervous blonde stepped in. The second he saw your flushed face, he groaned. “You heard everything didn’t you, hmm?” You sheepishly rubbed your neck. “Thin walls?”

He walked closer, his cheeks tinted red. “I was wrong, (Y/N), un. I’ve never seen you have an off day…” You smiled taking his outstretched hand. “Even though your paintings don’t explode, they are art, yeah. Will you forgive me, hmm?”

Before you could respond, you felt something lick your hand. Deidara snickered. “I think my hand mouths want you to forgive me too, un.”

Giggling, you kissed his cheek. “Well, they should be happy to hear that I do forgive you, Dei. Sasori, on the other hand...” You both smirked, sharing a look that promised trouble.

Masterlist

#naruto scenarios #naruto shippuden #naruto x reader #sasuke x reader #neji x reader #shikamaru x reader #kiba x reader #gaara x reader #kakashi x reader #pein x reader #deidara x reader #akatsuki #reader insert #part 2

2K notes · View notes

eliemo · 3 years

Text

Face Down

Summary: Virgil remembers how he was treated and realizes, for the first time, that he didn’t deserve what he went through.

TW: Flashback, descriptions of past abuse, violence, past gaslighting, mental breakdowns, crying, swearing, threats, blood and injuries

Sympathetic Light and Dark sides

Masterpost

Virgil had thought he was going to die.

He remembered when the thought popped into his head, sudden and frantic, screaming at him to get away. It hadn’t been the first time he’d had the thought, but it had been the first time it came from the rational part of his brain, not the panicking part.

Which had been horrifying, especially considering the fact that he was fairly certain Sides couldn’t die. Not completely, anyway.

But it had been one of Wrath’s beatings (those were always the worst), and it hadn’t stopped.

He supposed it made sense. Virgil tried not to think about it too much anymore, but Wrath was the manifestation of the deepest parts of Thomas’s anger, the rage he would never give power to, because that wasn’t Thomas.

He had carried out a majority of Virgil’s more extreme punishments for longer than he could remember.

Which was...fine. It had been fine. It made sense after all, Virgil needed to learn his lesson. The pain was always warranted, always given when he needed to do better, when he’d made a mistake.

Except…

Except it had been different that time. It should have been eye opening, should have been a red flag, but all he’d done was ignore it. He’d forgotten it, shoving it to the back of his mind until it was nothing but a distant blue, identical to all the other memories he wished he could forget.

He’d been on the ground, face down, gagging against the coppery taste in his mouth, trembling and gasping in a pathetic heap. Everything hurt, his clothes drenched in what could have been sweat or blood, the room spinning violently, voices far away and distorted.

He’d long ago lost the strength to raise his hands up to protect his face, and he could barely see through the blood dripping into his eyes. He was almost positive his nose was broken, along with at least a couple of his ribs.

It had all been...unfortunately routine as far as punishments went, albeit a bit more intense than usual. The only difference was that it wouldn’t stop. Wrath had just kept going and going, until Virgil was completely convinced the other side was determined to kill him this time.

He’d been terrified, of course, he always was when they hurt him no matter how often it happened. But this time he remembered being...confused. He hadn’t understood why it was happening.

He was always hit for a reason. Small mistakes, like stumbling, moving too slow, stuttering or taking too long to answer when he was asked a simple question, were met with smaller punishments- slaps, kicks, shoves, a punch or two, occasionally chasing him out of the kitchen when he went to get food. Just enough to remind him of his place, to keep him scared enough to do his job efficiently.

Things like making a mess, dropping something, making a loud noise, breaking or damaging something were met with...more severe punishments. And while he obviously didn’t like it, he knew better than to complain.

He knew it was pathetic how often he messed something up, so he knew how important punishing him was. But this time...he’d had no idea what he’d done.

It had been first thing in the morning- he hadn’t even had a chance to open his mouth yet. And he’d been extra careful lately, still a bit sore from the last beating Wrath had put him through.

So as guilty as it made him feel to admit it, he had no idea what he could have done to warrant this.

Wrath’s beating had come to a stop without warning, and suddenly Virgil was gasping against the pressure of a boot against his neck, keeping him down.

“What the fuck did you just say, Anxiety?”

Virgil had always been nothing but Anxiety to him- to all of them. Years spent together, and they had never bothered to even show interest in his name. (In his dreams, the nightmares that left him waking up to his own screams, they always called him Virgil. Always taking away as much power as they could)

Janus and Remus knew his name- but at the time Virgil thought it was only a reward for them never having to raise a hand against him.

He should have known better. He shouldn’t have been so gullible and stupid.

And apparently he’d spoken without realizing, terrified questions forcing themselves to the surface without his permission, and Virgil could feel Wrath’s anger only grow, and quickly scrambled to take it back.

“I- I’m- I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry, I--”

“Shut up! Just shut up! God, do you ever stop talking?”

Virgil obeyed, biting his bloodied lip to keep from whimpering when Wrath’s boot was replaced with a knee digging painfully into his back.

He couldn’t see them from where he’d been pinned down on his stomach, but he knew the Others were there, crowded around and watching like it was entertainment.

He could hear them laughing. Why were they laughing? Weren’t they supposed to be mad? What was so funny?

Why did they always seem so excited when he made a mistake?

“Don’t ever ask me that,” Wrath hissed, and Virgil bit back another cry of pain, knowing it would just make him angrier. “Don’t you ever ask me what you did wrong, do you understand? Do you know how stupid you sound?”

“I...s-sorry--”

A hand twisted into his hair, yanking hard enough for Virgil to see stars, choking on his own desperate words.

“I don’t know what you did, Anxiety, but does it even matter? I don’t need a reason, you’ve always done something, haven’t you? You deserve this- you always deserve it, and I don’t owe you a fucking explanation. You’re lucky we put up with you at all.”

Virgil tried to nod, squeezing his eyes shut against the humiliation and the pain, but the motion proved impossible with the way Wrath was holding him down, and he didn’t dare try to talk again.

“Do you understand that?” Wrath asked, suddenly speaking like he was addressing a toddler throwing a tantrum. “Nobody needs a reason to hate you Anxiety, it’s not our fault you’re like this. And I sure as hell don’t need an excuse to remind you exactly what you deserve.”

The hand in his hair tightened, and this time Virgil couldn’t help but cry out, eyes flying open in alarm. He thought he heard someone snicker.

“Do you understand?” Wrath demanded again, a heavy weight on Virgil’s back. “Tell me that you understand!”

But Virgil couldn’t form a response, throat tight and mouth flooding with his own blood and spit, ears still ringing with Wrath’s demands that he stay silent.

And then another voice was calling, somewhere from the other side of the room, but Virgil couldn’t focus enough to make out who it was.

“Remus is coming. Get him out of here.”

Virgil barely had time to process that, the terror that came with the thought of another side seeing him like this, seeing how weak and pathetic he was, another excuse to hurt him even worse. He didn’t think he could handle much more.

(Looking back on it, Virgil would have given anything for Remus to walk in on time)

The weight on his back was gone, and Virgil was suddenly being lifted off the ground, one hand under his arm, another grabbing at his hoodie and yanking him forward.

He gasped in pain as Wrath threw him haphazardly over his shoulder and began walking to the stairs.

“N-no...please, I--”

“Shut up, Anxiety.”

Virgil did as he was told, only able to silently hope his constant trembling wasn’t obnoxious enough to warrant another strike, forcing himself not to whimper when any of his injuries were jostled by Wrath’s less than careful movements.

Virgil tried not to think about how this was the most physical contact outside of any violence that he’d had in years.

It took him a moment to realize Wrath had brought him to his room, only really comprehending where he was when he was unceremoniously dumped on the floor, crying out against the wave of blinding pain.

“Stop whining,” Wrath snarled, and Virgil cringed, waiting for another blow. “You know you deserve this. If anyone tries to say you don’t, they’re lying. And if you believe them you’re even stupider than I thought.”

And with that he was gone, sinking out of the dark room without another word, leaving Virgil a shaking, bloody mess on the floor.

He didn’t know how long he stayed there. He couldn’t remember- everything fuzzy and faded with time and pain.

He did, however, remember with perfect clarity the terror that had shot through him at the sudden knocking on his bedroom door.

He tried to calm himself down, tried to remind himself that no one ever knocked when they planned on hurting him. If they were angry, they would just barge in without warning.

“Anxiety?” It took him a moment to recognize Morality’s voice, deceptively sweet as ever, and he curled up tighter to muffle any sound. “You in there, kiddo? I think Thomas wants us for a video if you can make it.”

And Morality sounded so...nice. He always seemed so kind, so genuinely caring. Virgil had been warned, of course, that none of the kindness extended to him was real. It was a trap, a twisted trick, and if Virgil fell for it he’d be hurt worse than ever before. He was safest where he was.

But that day, half-conscious and bleeding all over his bedroom floor, Virgil had thought about calling out. For the first time, he’d considered asking for help.

Because the beating had finally stopped, but the pain had only gotten worse. He honestly wasn’t sure he could clean himself up like he usually did. He didn’t even know if he’d be able to stand.

Obviously, Morality wouldn’t want to help him when he saw the kind of beating Virgil had deserved. He’d probably only get ridiculed and scolded when the other side saw what kind of injuries had been needed to put Virgil back in his place.

But Virgil would take yells and taunts over slowly bleeding out on the floor. And he could come up with some kind of excuse. He could say he fell down the stairs, and that he just needed help making it to the bathroom to wash up.

And he almost managed to do it, taking in a shaky breath when Morality knocked softly again.

But he couldn’t. Because no matter how badly he wanted to, no matter how desperately he wanted someone to care just a little, he knew nobody would. He was so tired of being terrified, but there wasn’t any other choice.

And he really didn’t think he could handle any more pain. Especially not from someone he hadn’t gotten a chance to see angry yet. He wouldn’t know what to expect.

So Virgil had closed his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut, waiting for the silence to come, and Morality had eventually relented.

“Alright, kiddo,” he’d called, sounding almost disappointed. “I know you’re busy.”

(Virgil would do anything to go back and change it. He’d give anything to convince his past self to give in and call out, to scream and cry and beg for help. Because if Patton had heard him, if Patton had seen what the others did to Virgil, it all could have been over so much sooner)

It had taken Virgil all night to find the strength to pull himself off the floor to make it to his bed, and when he didn’t leave his room for nearly three days, no one seemed to notice. If they did, he doubted they cared.

If Wrath hadn’t stormed into his room and demanded Virgil washed the blood off his face or he’d get it twice as bad, he might have forgotten he existed at all, content with letting himself waste away.

Virgil had no idea when he’d started crying but here he was, leaned against the side of his bed, a hand pressed tightly over his mouth while tears rolled down his cheeks.

He didn’t get it. He didn’t know why he’d let himself sit here almost all night, staring blankly at the floor, consumed by a memory he’d tried so hard not to think about for so long.

He’d pretty much forgotten about it completely, letting it blend in with the rest of the non-stop fear and pain he was put through. It shouldn’t be a big deal anymore. It was over.

But Virgil wanted to scream. He wanted to kick his bed frame until his foot split open, he wanted to throw his lamp on the ground and watch the bulb shatter into a hundred jagged pieces that could tear his skin open with a single touch. He wanted to yell and bite his skin, tear into his own flesh with his teeth until he couldn’t think anymore, couldn’t feel the hurt in his chest trying to suffocate him.

Because...because it wasn’t like all the other times. It was so much different- so much worse- and he’d just been too stupid to realize.

He’d thought he’d deserved it. Every time, no matter how bad it had gotten, he’d really, truly believed it was for the best. He’d understood, even through his pleading for the pain to stop.

There had always been something, some reason or excuse for why he needed to be punished. He’d been too loud, too disrespectful, too annoying, always an obnoxious nuisance everyone wished would just go away.

He was clumsy, he knocked things over or forgot where certain dishes went. He stumbled over his words or occasionally tripped if he moved too fast.

They were normal things. He’d seen everyone make small mistakes like that before and had never once gotten angry, never once felt the need or want to hurt them to make them better.

But Virgil had to be hurt. He would always be less than everyone else, always weak and evil and pathetic, so he deserved it. It wasn’t something he should question, it was just the way things were. And he’d believed it, every time.

Even after things had gotten better, even after the light sides had constantly shown him otherwise and Janus and Remus had proved to him over and over again that they would never, he still couldn’t quite wrap his head around it.

But that time…

That time he hadn’t done anything. He’d done nothing. He’d been awake all of five minutes and it had been one of the few times he’d thought they were genuinely trying to kill him.

And they...Wrath hadn’t even denied it. He hadn’t had a reason to punish Virgil, and he hadn’t even bothered to come up with one. He just hated him. He just wanted Virgil to die.

And he’d known...he’d known Virgil wouldn’t fight it. He knew he would just lay there and take it, convinced after years of conditioning that no matter what, he deserved it. He deserved to be scared and hurting.

Virgil suddenly wondered how many other beatings he’d gotten for no reason at all. How many times they had tormented him just because they’d wanted to, trusting Virgil to come up with the reason all on his own.

And he always had, because that was what he'd been taught to do. Lock onto the smallest mistake and expect the worst. And even now, even when deep down he knew he was safe, he couldn’t stop.

It was never about punishment. It was never about helping Thomas. It had all been for entertainment.

It wasn’t...fair. It wasn’t fair.

God, what was wrong with him? Why was he so stupid? His whole life he’d let them do what they wanted, let them hurt him, manipulate him, twist his mind until he thought that it was normal. They’d had him convinced that the people he now loved more than anything in the world would do the same without a second thought.

They’d barely treated him like a person. They’d practically brainwashed him into believing Anxiety was lesser, that he didn't deserve things like safety, or privacy, or sometimes even food. They’d gotten him to believe he didn’t deserve to be loved. To be happy.

And Virgil had never tried to do anything about it. Not once.

Because...because it had never crossed his mind. He’d never let himself believe that anyone could be so cruel. He didn’t know, even after all this time, why they hated him so much.

Maybe it was to take back the power Thomas refused to give those parts of himself. Or maybe Virgil really was that irritating. Maybe they just found it funny.

He’d never know. He’d never know and that...somehow that was so much worse. Suddenly, he wished he could go back to believing he deserved it.

He hated this. He hated this.

This time, he didn’t fight against the angry, impulsive thoughts that popped into his head, desperate for any kind of relief from the swarm of emotions he couldn’t even begin to sift through.

Virgil pushed himself back, kicking out against the metal bed frame as hard as he could, letting his crying morph to ragged sobs against the vicious combination of pain and panic.

He felt pathetic as he kicked out again, slamming the top of his socked foot onto the edge of his bed. He felt small, and weak, and scared. Everything he didn’t have to be anymore.

But he’d never actually stopped. He couldn’t. He wondered if he would ever be able to.

He curled forward, sinking his teeth into his sleeve and finally letting himself scream, a muffled, pathetic noise that sounded more like broken wailing than anything else.

He didn’t care. For once, he didn’t think twice about it. He just let himself fall apart, let himself feel the hurt and anger, screaming and sobbing wordlessly into his arm, free hand tugging ruthlessly at his hair.

Just like Wrath had always done to get his attention.

He barely registered the frantic knocking at his door, everything completely drowned out by his own cries and ragged breathing.

“Kiddo?” It was Patton’s voice calling to him from the hallway, faint and panicked. “Can I come in? Virgil?”

Virgil almost wanted to laugh at the irony of the situation, how everything had come full circle. He could call out this time, no longer afraid of Patton wanting to hurt him. But once again, he couldn’t find the strength to speak.

Thankfully things were different now, and Virgil managed to raise a shaky hand to unlock the door for Patton, courtesy of the special lock Roman had conjured up for him after the unfortunate misunderstanding they’d had over Virgil’s need for privacy.

“Oh, honey.” There were footsteps, quick and soft, and suddenly Patton was kneeling beside him, close but not yet touching. “I’m here, I’m right here. Can you hear me, kiddo?”

Virgil didn’t respond, just curled further in on himself and shut his eyes. He didn’t have the energy to try and muffle his sobs anymore.

“Virgil--” a hand grazed his shoulder, and Virgil flinched back before he could stop himself. “Ok! Ok, I won’t touch you, kiddo. Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Virgil forced himself to breathe, pulling his knees up to his chest and digging his nails into his scalp, wishing he could just get Wrath’s voice out of his head. He wanted to forget, wanted to block out the laughter that always came with his pain…

Laughter. Someone had always been laughing. It had always just been entertainment to them.

“I-I didn’t--” God, he could barely talk. He just wanted everything to stop. “I d-didn’t do an-anything I didn’t do anything--”

“I know,” Patton said, even as Virgil furiously shook his head. “I know you didn’t, baby, it’s ok--”

“No it’s not!” He hadn’t meant to shout, he’d never meant to shout at Patton- at any of them, but it felt like he was barely even here. Everything was too much. “I- I didn’t- they always...Pat I- I could have just opened th-the door!”

He could barely breathe, chest aching with each ragged sob, but he couldn’t seem to stop, everything spilling out all at once.

“Kiddo--”

“Y-you were right there. You...you were right outside the door and I didn’t...I let it- I...I hadn’t even done anything and he--”

“Patton? Is he alright?”

That was Logan’s voice, more footsteps making their way to the open door, and Virgil quickly fell back into a fit of uncontrollable sobs, hoping it was enough to block everything else out.

“What happened?” Roman was there too, all of them clearly woken up by the commotion from his room.

Virgil wanted the floor to swallow him up, to disappear forever until everyone forgot he existed. He wanted to sob and scream until he could never speak again.

He wanted to forget everything that had happened and just be ok. He wanted to stop being so scared.

“I’m trying to calm him down,” Patton said quietly. “I think he just had a bad dream.”

Virgil shook his head, breaths nothing more than hiccuping wheezes, pressing his head against his knees, refusing to see the looks of pity and confusion.

“It- it wasn’t...I wasn’t dreaming. It...it was- y-you were right there. I th-thought I was- I was dying and you were...I-I wasn’t ignoring you, I just c-couldn’t--”

“Virgil,” Logan said, calm and steady as ever. “You need to slow down. Try and take some deep breaths to--”

“No, I- I...R-Remus almost saw, they- they had to take me to my room and Pat...Patton was right outside. It- it hurt so b-bad and I...I was so scared.”

“Oh, god.” Patton sounded so small, but Virgil knew the moral side suddenly understood what he meant. “Virgil, I--”

“I thought I was going to die.” Virgil took a shuddering breath, the admission leaving him dizzy. “I thought...I-I wanted to ask for help so bad.”

This time, Virgil didn’t pull away when Patton reached for him. He fell into his embrace, shaking and sobbing uncontrollably, clutching at the other side’s pajama shirt like a lifeline.

“It’s ok,” he heard Roman say somewhere behind him. “It’s ok, Virge.”

“It’s not. It- it’s not...I-I never did anything. It- it was never a punishment they...they just hated me. They just liked h-hurting me and I don’t- I don’t know why. It’s not...i-it’s not--”

“It’s not fair,” Logan finished for him, when Virgil couldn’t seem to form the words. “You should never have been treated like that. And as hard as it is, recognizing the abuse for what it was is an important step.”

Virgil just tightened his hold on Patton, choking on his own sobs as they just grew louder and louder while he made no effort to quiet them.

He didn’t want to keep taking these steps, he didn’t want to have to recover. He wanted it to be over. He didn’t want to do this anymore.

“I’m so stupid.” It was muffled by Patton’s shirt, but he felt the moral side tighten his hold. “I’m so fucking stupid!”

“You aren’t--”

“Yes I am! All the- all the shit they said to me and I never...I never...why couldn’t I have just asked for help?”

There was another hand on his back, rubbing gentle circles in between his shoulders, the movement slow and precise.

“Because you had been gaslighted and meticulously conditioned your entire life,” Logan said carefully. “You believed we would hurt you just as badly, if not worse. You had no reason to think otherwise.”

Virgil didn’t respond, suddenly too light headed to think straight, focusing instead on Patton’s steady breaths in his ear, gasping in between desperate sobs.

After a moment Logan spoke up again, quieter than before. “Could you two get him some water, please? Perhaps an extra blanket?”

At first, Virgil thought he was talking to Roman or Patton, who Virgil currently had no intention of letting go of.

But then there was shuffling by the doorway, and Virgil glanced up just enough to see two familiar, blurry figures watching from just outside.

Janus nodded, grabbing Remus by the arm to guide him down the hallway, and Virgil’s heart sank when he caught a glimpse of the look on the Duke’s face.

He wondered how much they had heard, if Remus had realized just how close he’d come to catching the others in the act. If he realized how careful they’d been to make sure he never saw.

Judging from the panic and regret he saw in Remus’s eyes as he was practically dragged away from the room, he probably did.

But he couldn’t bring himself to dwell on it right now, not when it felt like the whole world was crashing down around him.

“I’m tired, Pat,” he muttered, voice still trembling and weak. “I’m tired, I’m so fucking tired.”

“I know, baby. I know. But you’re safe with us.”

Virgil let out a humorless laugh, the sound more like a pitiful whine, his soaked face pressed against Patton’s collarbone. “I get why he didn’t- he didn’t kill me. This is...god, this is so much worse.”

He felt Patton freeze against him, Logan’s hand on his back abruptly stopping its soothing motions. He heard Roman take in a shaky, panicked breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, an old habit he still hadn’t been able to grow out of. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry, Stormcloud,” Roman said, and Patton began gently rocking him back and forth, Logan continuing to rub his back as quickly as he’d stopped. “You don’t need to apologize.”

He held on tight, squeezing his eyes shut. “I just...I don’t...I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to be better.”

There wasn’t a response, but Virgil knew there wasn’t much that could console him right now. Not when everything was spinning, voices of the past too loud to make out much of anything else.

But they held him, letting him cry and fall apart in their arms, wrapping him in a blanket and helping him drink water when Janus and Remus returned, careful to give them space.

He appreciated it, though Virgil hoped one day he could have a relationship with Janus and Remus where he felt comfortable having them with him when he was vulnerable.

They’d get there. It was just one more thing to work on.

For now...for now he didn’t want to think about the future. He didn’t want to think about how he’d probably wake up terrified, paranoid and jumpy, expecting anger and resentment for waking everyone up.

He didn’t want to think about how it might never stop. How he might never get better. How he could be like this forever.

He would dwell on all of that later, whether he wanted to or not. And he could already tell his nightmares would get bad again, memory after painful memory replaying over and over again in his head.

But he’d see it in a new light, a much darker motive behind the treatment. He wished it made it better to know he really hadn’t deserved it. It didn’t- it made it so, so much worse.

For now, he let himself melt into Patton’s arms, shuddering and gasping, frantically trying to copy the other’s breathing before he passed out.

The others had been wrong. The light side’s kindness wasn’t a lie, it was the only real thing he’d ever known. And he knew, no matter how bad it got, that his family would hold him together for as long as he needed.

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nightshade-minho · 3 years

Text

-Blue Book- (12)

Warnings: negative emotions like heartbreak, envy etc, alcohol, excessive consumption of alcohol, making out etc.

Wc: 6.1k

You shot awake, groaning as you clutched the bed sheets tightly. Fuck, that was a terrible nightmare. You pushed the sheets off you, your skin feeling clammy and your hands sweaty.

"Y/n? You okay?"

You turned to see Minho looking at you, his face covered in concern as he tentatively placed his hand on your arm, tilting his head.

"I'm fine..." You sighed and shook your head, sitting up straighter. "Really...it was just a bad dream." You mumbled, sliding out of the bed and glancing back at Minho with a reassuring smile.

"Oh. Okay...' He stood up as well, adjusting the sheets and tucking them back in.

"What do you want for breakfast?"

You sighed and looked at the clock on Minho’s wall, pressing your lips together. "It's almost lunchtime. We definitely slept in...I am hungry, though."

"Fine, call it brunch. Either way, it's food." He chuckled, heading out of the door as you followed him with a giggle.

Minho opened his fridge, glancing over at you. "Your phone was ringing at midnight, by the way. i was going to answer it but whoever it was gave up before I could pick up. I didn't want to wake you.” He said as he took out ingredients for omelettes, placing them on the counter.

"Oh...it was probably Felix. I didn't exactly tell him I was staying at your place."

"Ah, that explains it. Go, call him. I'll be done with this soon." he said, pointing to the currently empty pan.

You nodded and went back to the bedroom to grab your phone, heading to Minho's balcony as you dialled Felix’s number.

***

Felix was cleaning the dishes when he heard his phone ring. He looked over at the contact ID quickly, heaving a sigh of relief mixed with anger. He glanced at Chan before answering your call, putting you on speakerphone.

"Y/n! I was fucking worried sick! Chan told me you walked out without any explanation and then you didn't come back home, and-"

"Woah woah, chill. I'm at Minho's, I stayed the night."

"Oh..." Felix paused. He didn't miss the way Chan's already dull expression morphed into something even more sour at the mention of Minho’s name.

"I’m glad you're safe but...that still doesn't excuse what you did. You could have called. Instead, you let me worry."

You sighed, guiltily. "I know...that was a dick move. I’m sorry, Lixie."

Felix sighed reluctantly. "I accept your apology, Y/n...you know I can't stay mad at you when you call me that." He pinched his forehead, trying not to let affection overcome him.

You giggled. "I know. My sunshine boy~ You can never be angry for too long, huh?"

Felix fought off his smile, shaking his head. 'Yeah, enough of the buttering. You need to get back here soon, and help me with the decorations to show me you’re really sorry."

"Decorations?" You asked, confused as you heard Minho call out for you. Turning back around, you went back into the kitchen, grinning as you saw the buttery golden omelettes he'd placed on the plates.

"They look so fluffy..." you mouthed, as Felix replied. "Yeah, for the party." he explained. "It's Jisung's birthday today, I thought you knew? Don’t tell me you forgot! The party's at our place-"

"Oh! Fuck, I did forget about that, Lix- "

"It’s okay, just come home quick. Bring Minho if you’d like, we could definitely use the extra help."

You nodded. "Sure, I'll be there right after breakfast."

You shut down your phone, sitting down at the table and grabbing a fork, digging into the eggs. Minho looked up, swallowing before he spoke.

"Jisung’s birthday, huh? I can't believe you almost forgot. He's going to be very mad." Minho teased, waving his fork in the air at you and smirking.

"Too bad he'll never find out." You said smugly. "Right?"

"Right." Minho chuckled. "How are the eggs?"

"Amazing. Why are you and Felix such naturals at cooking? And then there's me, nearly burning down the kitchen the last time I tried."

"Hey, it’s not your fault. It was the oven’s. We needed to fix it anyway." He laughed, continuing to eat his food.

"I guess so."

There was a comfortable silence for a bit as Minho watched you eat what he’d cooked for you. He hummed, realizing how calm he felt around you. Your presence made him feel so safe and secure.

You seemed to really be enjoying what was on your plate. Moaning softly in appreciation, you took another bite, his cheeks flushing at the sound.

“This is...wow. Perfect.” You grinned up at him, chewing enthusiastically.

Minho wished he could cook for you every morning, for the rest of his life.

***

"You're finally here!" Felix shook his head, flinging the door open wide as he beckoned the two of you in.

As you entered, your eyes immediately spotted Chan standing on the couch, hanging up a ‘Happy Birthday’ banner onto the wall. You inhaled sharply, your heart already beginning to pound errantly at the sight.

"We already did a lot of it without you..." he sighed. You gasped as you looked around the room, which had been completely transformed. There were tiny star-shaped lanterns hung from the ceilings, and the couch had been moved to the side, to provide space to dance. The living room was much cleaner, a stark contrast from how it looked yesterday.

"I know, I'm so sorry. I just overslept. Last night was weird. At least my headache is gone." You admitted. You felt Chan glance at you at that, quickly looking away before you could return his look.

Chan swallowed. His heart had dropped when he saw you and Minho walk into the room, together. One could only presume you'd stayed the night at his place. He felt overcome with jealousy, his chest rising and falling as he breathed heavily, desperately trying to focus on the task at hand.

Envy. It was an emotion he had always been quite familiar with, unlike happiness. The person he was envious of had been and still was Minho. Minho, who he'd used to call his best friend.

First Miyoung, now you. Everything somehow circled back to him.

However, the jealousy he was feeling was a lot more profound this time. With Miyoung, there had been no illusions. Chan had been trying his best to win her over, but with no luck. Deep down, he’d known she was a lost cause.

With you, though...there was a time when he’d been almost sure you were the one, that you belonged to him...a time when he’d thought you were in love with him too.

It wasn't like Chan to dream. He wasn't one to believe in happily ever afters, really. They just weren’t realistic enough...

But, for a brief moment, you had made him want one.

Maybe that was why the bitter reveal had been all the more cruel... Minho, taking away what he considered his once more.

The thing was- Chan knew you were a human being. Not an object for him to claim. He wanted you to be happy...but would you be happy with Minho? He’d despised you back then. Chan still remembered the pure hatred that spewed out of Minho every time he talked about you. Had that been a ruse? Had he ever hated you? Or were you two secretly seeing each other the whole time, working together to undermine him and ruin the rest of his life?

Okay, so maybe that was a little far-fetched and absurd. Still...he didn’t know what to believe anymore.

Chan sighed and looked back at his banner, deciding to ignore the both of you.

You tore your eyes away from Chan. Looking back at Felix, you hummed and tucked your hands in your pockets, breathing in.

"So, what do you want us to do?"

"Hm, let's see...we've got decorations and catering left. Minho can help me cook and you-"

Your eyes widened. No way- Felix wouldn’t suggest you help Chan with the decorations, right? He knew better than to leave the two of you alone again.

You saw Chan freeze for a moment as well, although his back was turned away from you. Good to know he felt the same way.

Felix sensed the tension rising, quickly trying to salvage the situatiom. "Hm actually, Y/n... I think I’ll need your help with the food. Especially with the drink choices, you're always the best at that!" He turned to Minho, clapping his hands decidedly.

"You can help Chan with the decorations, Min."

Minho nodded after a moment of reluctance, grimacing as he went over to inspect the banner Chan was putting up. Felix took you to the kitchen as you heaved a sigh of relief, placing your hand on your chest. “That was a close call.”

He took out the menus he wanted you to pick from, as he watched your expression.

"Why'd you leave last night, anyway?" He muttered sadly, carefully inspecting your face.

You thought back on it. Why did you? Last night was kind of fuzzy in your mind, to be honest. You couldn’t even recall the final straw that had made you storm out of the house. It wasn’t like you to be this spontaneous.

"Chan was annoying me, and making my headache worse. So I left." You shrugged.

"...Right." Felix rolled his eyes. "Look, I didn't want to say anything at first, but you do realize we're all grown up now, right? It's time for us to put all that high school shit in the past. I know Chan did some pretty shitty things but is it really that hard to forgive him? Minho was terrible as well- maybe even worse, yet you forgave him." He pointed out.

"Minho spent years grovelling and apologizing for his behavior. So what if he was mean, he's changed! It's clear to see. With Chan, I'm not so sure. I can feel the hate he has for me practically rolling off him.” You stared at the floor, trying not to let those memories overtake you. “Besides...I thought I told you. Chan’s betrayal hurt more cause I genuinely thought he cared about me.” You mumbled.

“Then again, I was stupid and naïve, so I don’t really have anyone else to blame but myself."

"Chan doesn't hate you..."

"Really? I find that hard to believe." You raised an eyebrow. "If he’s a mature adult, I think he should come and try to talk to me about what he did. I'm not the one who did something wrong here, so I won't approach him. If he wants to apologize, he can."

You sighed as you pulled the menu over to yourself. "But, as long as he continues to be petty, you better believe I'll play his game."

Felix sighed and nodded. "You know what...sure. Whatever." He made a mental note to himself, deciding to talk to Chan later. He couldn’t bear to stand on the sidelines any longer. He had to do something.

"I'm staying at Minho’s until he leaves." You added, ripping Felix out of his thoughts. Humming, you examined the drinks menu he handed to you.

Felix shrugged, noting down the names of the drinks you circled. "Okay. Ooh, the old gang will all be here tonight!" He let himself smile, ignoring your icy demeanor. Looking up, he sighed as he noticed the scowl still present on your face. “Come on Y/n, lighten up! Let’s forget about Chan for a second, shall we? Forget about what he did to you. Forget about whether or not you want to forgive him. Just...treat him like you would any other normal person, okay?"

You groaned, standing up straight as you rubbed your forehead. Ugh, maybe you should listen to him. All these negative emotions were really exhausting, and you could definitely do without them.

"Sure...fine. I can do that...I think."

"Good girl.” He smiled proudly. “Now, let's do food..."

***

Minho and Chan hadn't said a word to each other for the past hour. They communicated mainly through grunts and hand gestures, as they decorated the space in silence.

Between the mutual hate and jealousy, there wasn’t much room for a good relationship between them anymore. They were virtually strangers, and honestly would prefer to keep it that way.

Chan kept glancing at Minho though, biting his lip. He inhaled, working up his courage to say something.

“So...how’s Y/n? Are you taking care of her?"

What kind of question was that? Minho frowned, nodding. "Uh...yeah?"

Chan nodded, biting his lip as he looked at the decorations again. "Cool." He hated the way his heart was filled with dull hatred, anger and pain. A mass of negative emotions had settled in him over the years, and they definitely weren’t going to budge any time soon.

However...when he’d seen Minho again, some of the anger had melted away, kind of. The man was no longer the same person he’d been back then. More confident, yet also more vulnerable...he strangely reminded him of you, before you'd shattered your rosy view on life and opted for a more practical outlook.

There was an awkward silence as they continued their work. Minho felt guilt slam against his ribs as he caught a glimpse of Chan's face.

He looked void of hope. Calm, yet not in a good way. The kind of calm that came from losing everything.

There was a tiny part of him that wanted to make it all better for Chan. Tell the truth to you, and come clean. After all, Chan was once his closest friend. The two practically grew up together. Minho recalled how he’d go over to Chan’s every day after school, playing video games in his basement and generally horsing around. He smiled to himself as the memories came back to him. Memories of helping him steal his dad’s Playboy magazine...consuming an unhealthy amount of energy drinks and crisps as they hung out, content in each other’s company.

But then, he thought about you. No. He just couldn't lose you to Chan. Besides, he wasn’t even completely sure if the truth would make you forgive Chan. Maybe it would just turn you against Minho.

Chan was handsome...he was kind, muscular, loving. He would have no problem finding someone.

Minho on the other hand...he'd never loved anyone the way he did you. The emotions were alien, and yet so exciting. It was confusing, really- he couldn’t tell if he liked these feelings or not.

It wasn’t like he was stripping Chan of his soulmate or anything. It just wasn't a big deal. Right?

Then why was there so much fucking guilt, heavily weighing down his heart? Why was it impossible to breathe?

Despite having been thrown together last minute, the party was admittedly going well. The rest of the boys came soon after you and Minho, helping Felix finish off the preparations and transform the space.

Jisung of course, true to his nature, came ‘fashionably late’, after the rest of the guests had already arrived. His grand entrance lacked the raining confetti he’d initially wanted, but it was still cool. After all, he should have known putting Hyunjin in charge of it was a bad idea.

By now, the party was in full swing. Jisung loved being the centre of attention, and that little fact was made increasingly evident with the way he was dancing in the middle of the living room, a pink feather boa thrown around his shoulders. There were drinks being passed around everywhere, people dancing and having fun in every corner. it reminded you of the few college parties you'd gone to.

College, safe to say, weren’t exactly the best years of your life. You didn't really have any friends, and Chan had been on your mind throughout it all. He was a barrier; blocking you from living your life as a normal person.

He sat in the back of your mind, a memory from high school that threatened to never leave you. To always stick with you, reminding you that you weren't worthy. You weren't deserving of his love...all you did was play the part of a tool, to help him get the girl he was really after. Was that really all you were good for?

It wasn’t Chan you were hung up on. The implications were what truly hurt. The thought that you wouldn’t ever be worth enough to anyone, the thought that love just didn’t exist for you.

You stood in the corner with Felix, sighing as you finished your third shot of the evening. Forget it. Focus on the party right now, the one you’re supposed to supervise.

Nodding your head to the beat, you looked over the crowd. "Damn, Changbin's a really good DJ. We saved so much money on that one..." You eyed a drunken party goer almost knocking over the vase on the table, wincing.

"This place is going to be a fucking mess by tonight, and I'm sure at least one thing will end up broken. It’s good we managed to save some money." You sighed, and Felix nodded. "Amen to that. It’ll be a nightmare to clean.'' Felix sighed, running his eyes over the floor which was already covered with a thin layer of trash.

Minho suddenly slid next to the two of you, swallowing the remnants of the clear liquid in his glass as he grabbed your arm. His words were already slurred, and he’d definitely had a lot more drinks than you.

"Don't worry, we'll all help clean up! What are we here for?”

“Hm, does that mean you guys will be staying here overnight?”

Your eyes widened slightly. No. Minho noticed your expression, humming thoughtfully before shaking his head.

“Can’t. My cats. They don’t like being alone for too long." He took your hand in his. "Y/n and I will be here early tomorrow morning to clean up."

You looked up at him thankfully, and then back at Felix. "Yeah."

He eyed the two of you, gaze flitting from one to the other. "Okay...sure.”

The music was way too loud, the floor and walls thrumming to the beat. The three of you relaxed against the wall, collectively watching as the man Hyunjin was dancing with whispered something in his ear, a cheeky smile gracing his face. The bedroom eyes were clear to see, even from here.

You frowned, narrowing your eyes at the sight. "Oh god, please tell me he's not going to-"

Hyunjin smirked, taking the man's hand and leading him off in the opposite direction, through the small crowd.

Your eyes widened. "I swear to god, if it’s my room they’re going to be fucking in, I’ll-"

Felix giggled as he patted your back sympathetically, Minho holding you back and chuckling. "Hey, hey- it's ok. I’m sure they won’t go all the way here, they’ll probably just make out in the bathroom and then go back to his place. Don’t worry."

You groaned and slumped in Minho’s hold. "I guess Hyunjin does know better."

Felix hummed in agreement, chortling. He looked over at the plates on the table that were gradually emptying, and sighed.

"Guys, wait here for a bit. Gotta refill those."

You nodded as Felix left for the kitchen, turning back to Minho. Sighing, you leaned against the wall as you looked around the room properly.

"You and Chan did a good job on the decorations."

"It was mostly him." Minho exhaled. You pressed your lips together, shrugging.

The room was dimly lit in a purple glow thanks to the lamp in the corner, as well as the plenty of stars that were hung from the ceilings. It was beautiful, and you were a little miffed that none of the guests were sober enough to truly appreciate it.

Jisung danced over to the two of you suddenly, shaking his neck and laughing loudly. "Hey you two!!” He wiggled his body to the music, grinning. “Come on guys, stop being wallflowers and come partaayyyy!"

You chuckled and shook your head. "I don't know about-"

Jisung pouted at you, coming really close to you and placing his hands on your shoulders. "Pleeeaaase? For the birthday boy?" he asked, his eyes big and puppy like, his lips formed into a pout.

You stared him down, but just couldn't resist as a smile broke out on your face. "Ugh, fine."

"Good girl!" Jisung exclaimed drunkenly as Minho smirked, chuckling to himself as Jisung took his hand as well as yours, leading the two of you into the crowd.

Jeongin was on the floor as well, surprisingly dancing up a storm as he grinned at you. Ah well. If Jeongin could, why not you? You might as well take advantage of the buzzing in your veins.

You immediately started dancing, moving your body to the beat and trying your best to look graceful and sexy. However, the alcohol was messing with your system, and it was difficult for you to coordinate your moments right.

Minho laughed fondly at your failed attempts. It was adorable, how you danced like a baby giraffe learning how to walk.

"Hey." He grabbed both of your arms, making you look at him. You looked into his eyes, a questioning look in them.

Minho inhaled. He almost forgot what he was going to say. Fuck that, he almost even forgot his own name. Did he have to feel like this every single time you so much as glanced at him?

"I'll help...this is how you dance." He moved behind you, pressing your back to his chest lightly. Your breathing turned shaky as he started guiding your movements carefully.

"See...like that. Got it?"

You nodded. "I think so..." You continued dancing, now looking a lot more sensual and less like a baby animal.

You got the hang of it soon enough. Minho was about to let go of you, but you held onto him before he could.

“Dance with mee.” You giggled, pouting up at him. He smiled down at you, inhaling.

“Okay~”

***

Chan watched from across the room as Minho and you danced, pressed to each other. He downed yet another shot, hoping the stinging alcohol would help him forget his worries and pain, at least just for a bit.

Fuck envy. It was definitely the worst of them all. Despite the anger he had towards you, all he wanted to do was march onto that dance floor and pull you away from Minho. He wanted to be the one dancing with you instead.

He was so...so unsatisfied. The alcohol melted away his inhibitions, and now his emotions were all over the place, even more so than before.

Unsatisfied. That was it. He wasn't able to be productive, wasn't doing anything with his life merely because of his unfinished business with you.

He knew he couldn’t blame you. You’d definitely come to know about the bet, probably why you’d left him. Although why Minho? God, the shock of seeing you two together that day was still fresh.

You were more than just a bet to him, and he wished you knew that. More than a blue book.

You were...you. You were the prettiest, sweetest, most talented girl he’d ever met.

You’d changed since the last time he saw you. More cynical. Rough, defensive. He didn't blame you. That...that was his fault. The reason why you were like that.

Despite that, he could still see traces of the old you. The you he’d fallen in love with. It had not gone anywhere, really. It was still inside you...somewhere.

Chan was starting to feel profound regret at the way he’d treated you. Was it stupid of him to think you’d still want him, after learning what he’d done to you?

Chan sat up as he watched Minho's hand slide around your stomach, pulling you closer to him.

Fuck, he almost wanted to throw up. He felt the anger course back into him, anger directed at you, at Minho, at his parents, everything.

That was it. He couldn't watch this, sitting in the corner drinking booze like some sort of pathetic idiot.

No, you had to get a taste of your own medicine.

Chan noticed the blonde in the crowd who had been eyeing him for ages. She was pretty enough, her features soft and smooth. On top of that, she was wearing possibly the shortest red dress he'd ever seen. Her fake tan was excessive, her cleavage abundant.

In other words, she was perfect. Perfect for him to use as he put his drunken plan into action.

Chan stood up, finishing off his drink and setting the glass down. He made his way into the crowd, sidling up to the blonde.

She smiled welcomingly, blinking up at him through her eyelashes. He grinned, glancing to the side as he moved closer to her.

Hm, you hadn't noticed yet. He had to step it up.

Placing his hands on her waist, he started moving her to the beat. Slowly he brought her closer to Minho and you, hoping that you would just look over for a second-

FInally! You noticed! A triumphant smirk formed on his face.

He wanted you to know that he didn’t need you. He wanted you to feel at least a little bit of the envy he was feeling. Again, it was the small victories that counted.

***

Your eyes wandered back to Minho, your throat feeling constricted as you tried your best to avoid the sight of Chan and the girl.

It was painful. So fucking painful.

You still haven’t moved on from him, as much as you would have liked to. Watching him dance with her was leaving a bad taste in your mouth, your throat going dry.

They were all over each other. Her hands were around his shoulders and his were on her waist, their lips dangerously close as the racy music filled the room.

You knew you were in a similar position with Minho at the moment, though. It was the alcohol blurring the lines, or you wouldn't be caught in such a compromising position with him, really.

Still. This was different...right?

Fuck it, you just wanted an excuse to be angry at him.

Chan somehow pulled the girl in closer, his hands slowly creeping down her waist and towards her ass. You swallowed and looked back at Minho before those hands could find their destination. Minho was looking at you with his eyebrow raised, his hands a little tighter on you.

"Everything okay, hm?"

"Kinda..."

"Are you sure?"

When you didn’t reply, Minho followed your gaze to Chan and the blonde, and then back to you. He put two and two together, sighing deeply.

"You deserve better, Y/n. You've got to move on." Minho swallowed.

Yes, you did deserve better. Better than Chan, and better than him. You deserved someone who didn't keep any secrets from you, someone who would never even think of manipulating you.

He despised himself for what he'd done. The way he behaved. As every second passed, the guilt grew. But how could he tell you? How could he even stand the chance of losing you?

It was his fault. Everything was his fault.

You noticed the sudden devastated expression on his face, frowning and cupping his cheeks to make him look at you.

"Minho...are you okay?"

"Mhm." Minho mumbled. "Uh...I need to go to the bathroom." His face was white as he let go of you swiftly, stumbling away as quickly as he could and disappearing in the crowd.

You watched as he left, puzzled. Fuck, now you were alone. Just great.

You groaned under your breath, feeling Chan's gaze on you. Turning around slightly, you tried to avoid him, but unfortunately your eyes had already moved of their own accord.

His lips were on her neck, her back turned to you. However, he was looking right at you, an intoxicated smirk creeping on his face as he ran his eyes over you, all alone in the middle of a dancing crowd.

Biting your lip, you clenched your fists. You turned around, wading through the sweaty, grinding bodies, and made your way to the kitchen. You needed some peace and quiet.

You filled up a glass of water, lifting it to your lips. The cool liquid ran down your throat, making you sigh in relief. It was so refreshing, a sharp contrast to the alcohol you’d been consuming all night.

You turned around, ready to go back into the room and find Minho when you slammed into a firm chest, blocking your exit.

Ugh. This couldn't be happening.

"Move."

"Shh.'' Chan shook his head, placing a finger under your chin and forcing you to look up at him. He caged you against the counter with his other arm, his eyes glazed over.

"Look. We both know- hic- that you and I have incomplete business-"

You groaned, pushing him away slightly. "You're drunk, Chan."

"I am not." He glared at you, placing his hand over his annoyingly broad chest, an offended look on his face. "Just a little tipsy, that's all..."

You cringed, looking past him at the crowd. Ugh, where was Minho? Where was Felix?

"Look at me..."

You looked back at Chan, inhaling sharply. "What do you want?"

Chan looked taken aback at your tone. He recovered slowly, stepping back and humming.

"I want…” He closed his eyes, sighing. “I want to know why you hate me." He said, his tone surprisingly even considering the amount of alcohol he’d knocked back.

"I- are you seriously asking me that question right now?" You asked incredulously. Seriously, how fucking dense could he be?

"I am, Y/n. answer me." His slurred voice turned into a growl as he leaned in close.

"I was nothing but nice to you, when no one else was...I loved you, I-"

You scoffed, interrupting him. "Oh wow, thank you so much.” You said sarcastically. “I think you and I both know all that was fake. You were fake, Chan- it didn't mean anything to you-"

Chan slammed his hand on the counter next to you, making you flinch.

"But it did! It fucking meant everything to me. It was the only thing that ever meant anything, and I'm sorry it had to happen the way it did, sorry I lost that damn boo-"

"A simple sorry is not going to make me forgive you." You shook your head. "Get off me, Chan."

"I don't want you to forgive me! For fuck's sakes, I just-" He breathed in, his voice turning soft as he ran a hand through his hair, his breathing shaky.

"I just want to know why you chose him over me. He- he was worse-"

"Huh?" His words were too slurred for you to recognize. "Look, Chan-"

"Shut up." Chan shook his head, leaning in further. For a second, he scanned your eyes with his.

Fuck, he couldn’t believe he was about to do this.

Inhaling softly, he smashed his lips against yours.

It took you by complete surprise. Your heart felt like it was exploding- like a million, elephant sized butterflies were threatening to burst out. Shit, his lips were so fucking soft.

Was this actually happening?

It was. Insistent, yet gentle...his lips were all you could focus on. It felt overwhelmingly real, nothing like a dream.

Warm. He’s so warm...

You resisted him for all of half a second, before melting into the kiss. Your hands snaked around his neck as he placed his under your thighs, lifting you up onto the counter. You were quickly getting yourself lost in him, the feeling of his lips on yours so familiar and yet so new.

"Can't- can't get enough of you, don't think I ever will-" He mumbled incoherently against your mouth, his grip on you tight as he pressed against you.

Your mind was completely blank. There was no pride or anger in your head anymore, just Chan Chan Chan. His plump lips, moving against yours so passionately and swallowing all your breaths. It was partly due to the alcohol, yes- but also all the tension. Years of wondering if this moment would happen again.

And now it was.

“Chan-” You whispered into the kiss, tears pricking at your eyes.

This was a bad idea, it really was- you shouldn't be kissing him back like this. You were supposed to be mad at him- you were supposed to prove to him that you'd moved on. That you wouldn't let anyone use you like that ever again.

And yet here you were, right back at square 1.

"Please, please..." he whispered, nipping at your already swollen lips with fervor as he dove right back in, caressing your back.

His heart was pounding, unable to believe you were actually in his arms. Shit, he knew this was such a terrible idea. And yet he couldn’t bring himself to stop.

It was wrong, he knew it. Even if he believed he loved you more than Minho ever could, it was still wrong. You weren't his, and he had to learn to accept that.

But...he needed one last kiss. One last kiss to let him know if you were a lost cause, or if you truly were meant to be his. He wanted to know. And so he deepened the kiss further, making you let out a small squeak that only made him want you more.

"Guys?"

Chan pulled away, dropping you to the floor quickly as soon as he heard Seungmin's voice.

Seungmin eyed the two of you, suspicion covering his face. You swallowed, subtly pulling down your skirt as you blinked, trying to adjust to the light that flooded your eyes. “Seung-”

Shit. Was that Minho, slumped against Seungmin’s body?

He looked between the two of you, sighing as he saw your eyes on Minho. Minho’s eyes were closed, his forehead covered in sweat and his body limp. You moved forward, quickly rushing over to his side. “What happened?”

"Found him in the bathroom. He threw up, was crying on the floor. He didn’t tell me why...I’m assuming he’s just way too drunk."

Minho looked up slowly, blinking and staring at you as he registered your face. "Y/n...." he stretched out an arm towards you, whining.

Seungmin groaned, Minho's weight clearly too much for him to support. "Y/n, please take him home. He needs rest. I'll explain to Jisung."

You couldn't look at Chan as you nodded. You carefully trained your stare on Minho as you went over to Seungmin, letting him transfer the man to you.

"Min...you okay?"

He shook his head, gasping as he tried to take oxygen in. His eyes travelled past you, landing on a very remorseful Chan, his face covered in embarrassment.

You bit your lip, stroking his hair. “I’ll get him to the car. Tell Felix we’re going home, okay?”

Seungmin nodded, heading back into the living room to find Felix after shooting a last glance at Chan.

You pressed down the urge to look back at him. Don’t do it, Y/n. You need to go home and re-evaluate your decision-making. Fuck, why didn’t you push him away?

You ignored the delightful tingling of your lips as you helped Minho out, most of the partiers completely oblivious as you dragged him out to the car, with a lot of difficulty.

You opened the passenger door with one hand, helping Minho in. He looked like he was on the verge of falling asleep, his mouth slightly open as he let out a soft snore. Chuckling to yourself, you patted his head before getting into the driver’s seat. You weren’t drunk enough to warrant calling a taxi, so you might as well save some money.

Tonight was...eventful, to say the least.

Minho cracked one eye open slowly, watching as you drove. His eyes were burning, his throat aching. He hated feeling like this, he really did. He wished he hadn’t gotten this drunk. The alcohol and his sudden overflow of emotions did not mix well, and had ultimately resulted in him bent over the toilet bowl.

There was only one way to get rid of this fucking guilt. Minho wasn’t quite sure yet if he could go through with it, though.

There was a lot of thinking to do.

***

Chan stood near the counter. He couldn’t bring himself to move, his eyes unfocused as he replayed the scenes over and over in his head.

He couldn’t believe he’d done that. The one thing he’d told himself not to do. Don’t fall for her again. You got your heart broken once, why are you so eager to let it happen once more?

Regret. It was on all three minds, tonight.

#chan smut #chan x reader #bang chan smut #bang chan series #bang chan x reader #chris bang x reader #chris bang smut #chris x reader #kpop smut #skz smut #stray kids smut #skz angst #chan angst #bang chan angst #minho angst #lee know angst

357 notes · View notes

plus-size-reader · 4 years

Text

Love

Geralt of Rivia x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2005 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Geralt confesses his feelings for the reader as she’s bleeding out but when she recovers, he isn’t sure how to navigate from there.

——————————————————————————————————

Geralt told you that he loved you.

He thought you were dying, and he told you that he loved you.

However, the stab wound you’d suffered at the hands of that man wandering through the forest hadn’t been as deep as you’d initially assumed and you were nearly back to normal in a few days.

That left the three of you; Geralt, Jaskier, and you in a rather precarious position. Jaskier had taken on the tedious job of changing your bandages and making sure you didn’t tear at the mediocre stitches he’d given you while Geralt wouldn’t even look at you.

You weren’t sure what it was that you’d done but you were sure of one thing, you were sure that Geralt hated you. For one reason or another, you wouldn’t have been surprised if he never spoke to you again.

The biggest trouble with the witcher was that you barely understood him in the first place but after everything that had happened lately, you couldn’t even guess what he was thinking.

...And you couldn't even ask him because he wouldn’t be near you for more than a moment or two in passing.

So, you had to stick to what little contact you did have and talked through all your worries and concerns with Jaskier. Even now, as he was fiddling with the wrap on your abdomen, you couldn’t focus on anything more than Geralt.

“Why would he say that to me? Assuming, ah, that he wouldn’t have to ever deal with the consequences?” you asked, only stopping in the middle to wince when Jaskier pulled away the bandage from the bloodied wound a little too aggressively.

You had thought over that moment over and over again since it happened, and you still couldn’t make sense of it.

Geralt was the first one of the two of them to find you there, laying in a puddle of your own blood, the man who stabbed you long gone by then. You weren’t sure how long you’d been there, or what was happening as you faded in and out of consciousness.

However, what you did remember more vividly than everything else was when Geralt leaned down over you, holding the wound in your stomach tightly with one hand and bracing your cheek with the other as he urged you to stay awake.

The pain was numbing, but after that much time, you barely even paid it any mind.

All you could focus on was Geralt’s face, and the words that fell from his lips as he tried to keep pressure on the wound.

“You’re going to be fine, just keep your eyes on me” he begged, doing his very best to keep calm though it was hard to ignore how much blood you had lost. He wasn’t sure that there was any way to come back from that.

Still, he couldn’t help but hope that you were going to pull through. Normally, something like that wasn’t going to just slip through the cracks but with everything going on, he couldn’t help himself.

“Don’t leave me Y/N, I love you”

It was so real, and even though you did end up passing out on the way back to the camp, it was the first thing you remembered as soon as you did wake up.

Geralt loved you, and there was no moving on from that...at least, not for you.

He seemed to have wanted to completely forget it, as if he’d never said it at all. However, you couldn’t let it go nearly as easily, mostly because he offered no explanation.

If he told you that it was some kind of mistake, made out of the desperation of the situation, you could get on with your life as if it never happened, though it would hurt. The worst part of it all was that you had no frame of reference for it.

You didn’t even know if he cared for you or not.

...And Geralt wasn’t exactly clarifying.

Jaskier considered his words for a moment or so, folding a shred of cloth over itself a few times to make a bandage for your wound. It was healing rather nicely, all things considered but if you came down with an infection, it wouldn’t be for long.

Luckily, he had spent a few nights with a medicine woman a few years back and that brief knowledge helped both you and the witcher on your travels.

It wasn’t much, especially seeing as he spent more time studying her body than the things she was trying to teach him, but it was enough.

“Unfortunately my dear, Grumpy out there is the only one who can answer that. Who knows, maybe I would have done the same had I found you there” Jaskier shrugged finally, gesturing outside the tent to where Geralt was.

He wished desperately that he could help you understand and that he could give you the answers that you craved but he wasn’t in a position to do so. Truly, the only person who could tell you was the witcher, and you both knew it.

...Fuck.

You had really hoped that Jaskier would be able to tell you so you wouldn’t have to confront the man yourself, but as it would turn out, you didn’t have much of a choice.

So, you finished up with Jaskier, making sure to thank him for being so diligent in your care and then made your way out to the river, where Geralt was currently staring into the depths.

He had been being so strange lately, and there really was no explanation for it, the obvious aside. The two of you had never had trouble speaking to each other before but this was different.

These circumstances were beyond your control.

“Looking for something, witcher?” you questioned first, finding that was the best icebreaker you could have hoped for. You both knew where this conversation was going, but it had to be handled the right way.

You were both rogues as a general rule, but sometimes it was easier to hide behind the social pleasantries that you usually disposed of.

“No”

That was about what you’d been expecting, but you’d already made up your mind. You were going to have this conversation, even if you had to knock Geralt on his ass to do it.

You weren’t going to just sit around like a damsel in distress, waiting for him to decide that you were deserving of an explanation.

All you could do was sigh, unable to keep your frustration a secret anymore. You had been raking your brain for days, when you weren’t in inconsolable pain, desperate to understand.

Nothing made him say it, in that moment he deemed as the last of your life, but he did anyway and there had to be a reason.

“Enough of this Geralt, why have you been so distant lately? I can’t understand” you asked, no longer paying any mind to how crazy you may have looked.

He wasn’t the only one who’d had to face your mortality. You couldn’t have died there in that moore, and still, you couldn’t get him to even answer a few simple questions.

Of course you were losing patience.

“I’ve spoken to Jaskier, he has no idea. I’ve given it every possible moment I could, but I can’t think about it anymore. I’m going to drive myself mad” you explained, both your hands rubbing hastily over your face.

You just couldn’t sit back and pretend it didn’t happen and maybe he could. Maybe Geralt was perfectly content with never speaking to you again, but you werent.

If nothing else, he was a good friend of yours and that would be a loss all its own.

Now, Geralt had been ignoring you purposefully, of course. He had no idea how to address what had happened there under that oak tree but he understood where you were coming from as well.

It truly wasn’t fair of him to expect you to forget it.

...But he just wasn’t sure how to explain himself.

Deep down the witcher knew that he was completely and irrevocably in love with you but that wasn’t even something he was willing to admit to himself so how was he meant to just tell you?

There was too much at stake on both sides. If you did happen to feel the same for him, you would be in danger for all the days of your life that you had left but if you didn’t, his heart would surely shatter.

How was he meant to approach you after that?

You had made it abundantly clear that you were in this voyage for the long haul and it would be terribly strange to have to see one another every day after this.

Still, there was no refuting the truth.

You had started this conversation, and he couldn’t very well back out of it again. He could only get away with that for so long, and it was time to own up to what he’d done.

“I thought I’d lost you” he started finally, his voice low in his throat as he tried to keep any composure he still had. These weren’t the sort of things he was used to talking about, and it was difficult.

Though, he had already made peace with the fact that he owed you an explanation, so he just had to swallow his pride and get it over with.

Whatever was going to happen, it was best to just get it out of the way now.

“As did I” you joked, not missing a beat as you tried to lighten the mood but Geralt only looked at you, those golden eyes of his silently begging you to just let him get through this.

...So you did.

You held your tongue, fiddling with your fingers as you let the man compose his thoughts. You understood that this was difficult for him but at least he was trying to tell you the truth.

It was more than you thought you’d get, frankly, when you came out here.

“I could not bear the idea of losing you without telling you the truth, and the truth is that I love you, Y/N” he admitted, his words shocking you more than even you were prepared for.

Until this moment, you could only think back in hazy memory to when those words had left his lips, but you had no confirmation that it was real. As soon as he spoke them into existence again, it confirmed what you’d believed all this time.

Geralt was in love with you.

“I was a coward, hiding behind what had happened but it doesn’t really matter. I have felt this way for quite some time” he shrugged, not once looking you in the eye the entire time.

He would never admit it, but Geralt was afraid. He was terrified of how you would react to his grand confession but that was quick to fade. You didn’t even have a chance to reject him really because you immediately found yourself in his arms, your lips pressed to his own.

It was a quick motion, something you shouldn’t have done, because as soon as you pulled away from him, the haze melted away from the two of you and you realized that you’d just really hurt yourself.

Though, Geralt beat you to it. “Your stitches” he warned, setting you down on the ground almost immediately after scooping you up.

The realization left you as quickly as it had came, but you didn’t really care. Frankly, you had more on your mind than a few torn sutures and from the tent, where Jaskier had been watching, all he saw was you, leaping into the white haired man’s arms again.

He was going to have to clean that all up, but it was best to just let the two of you have your moment for now.

After all, it wasn’t everyday that you admitted your love to one another.

552 notes · View notes

five-rivers · 4 years

Text

Intervention

Prize for @reblogthegods! This is a no one knows AU!

Enjoy!

Danny touched down behind the school and leaned against the wall, one hand firmly over the gash in his hip. He blinked at it, feeling bleary. It wasn’t bleeding, exactly, ectoplasm was too viscous for that, and it tended to gel quickly, but… Yeah. It didn’t feel good either, and it had been oozing before.

He should get it cleaned out and put a bandage on it. Fast. Before he missed even more classes.

Also, what would happen when he changed back to human? Like, when he changed back, his wounds were usually less bad, but they were never completely gone, and he usually didn’t get anything quite this deep. Or long.

Mostly he just got bruises. Or scratches. One time he thought he’d broken a couple of fingers. Which had motivated him to learn how to punch properly, but, well. Yeah.

Cuts like this were new and terrifying territory. Why did that ghost have a sword?

Maybe he should just try and stay a ghost for as long as possible? Would he heal faster like that? He didn’t know.

Between keeping everything secret from everyone, protecting everyone, and trying to live his life to whatever extent ‘live’ and ‘life’ still applied to him, he hadn’t any time to test the- the limitations of- of whatever he was now. Maybe he could have made time, but he hated this so much.

He just-

(He wanted to be a normal person in a normal town with a normal family.)

He took a deep breath, and trued not to notice how it didn’t make him feel refreshed, or that he hadn’t been breathing since he sat down against the wall.

Right. First aid.

And he still had classes.

Slowly, he reached into the wall and pulled out the kit he had hidden there.

He slouched into sixth period, avoiding Sam and Tucker’s eyes. No one else really paid him any mind, although the teacher frowned at him. It was still passing, though, and he didn’t get called up or told to go to the office. So. A win.

It didn’t feel like a win. It felt like pain.

Sam leaned forward. “Where were you?” she hissed, through her teeth. “You missed fifth period completely.”

Danny shrugged and regretted it instantly.

It hurt.

Tucker huffed and turned away. “If you’re going to skip class,” he said, “you could at least tell us what you’re doing.”

“I’m just—” started Danny. “I’m not doing anything.”

“Don’t lie to us, Danny. We—” She bit down on her lip. “We are still friends, right?”

“Of course we are!”

Sam looked dubious. Tucker, for all his staring as he came into the classroom, wouldn’t meet his eye.

Then the teacher started class.

“It has to be drugs,” said Sam to Tucker, sitting on the steps in front of the school. “I don’t know how Danny could be that stupid, but it’s the only explanation.”

“Maybe the hospital gave him painkillers back in August and he couldn’t get off of them?” suggested Tucker. “I think that happened to one of my aunts… She got better, though.”

“Maybe,” said Sam. Her face twisted up. “But how is he paying for them? Like, he doesn’t have an allowance.”

“Underground fighting ring?”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Someone’s beating him up,” said Tucker, “and it isn’t Dash.”

“Dealer?”

Tucker shrugged, scowling at his PDA. “I hate this,” he said. “I hate – Why won’t he talk to us, Sam? It isn’t like we’d throw him under the bus or rat him out. He knows that.”

“He should know that,” corrected Sam. “And I’m so mad at him, but…” She trailed off, staring down at the weathered concrete of the steps.

“Yeah,” agreed Tucker. “Do you think we should tell Jazz?”

“Heck, no,” said Sam, immediately. “What is that going to do? We need, like, an intervention or something.”

“Don’t you need someone’s whole family for something like that?”

“I’m going to intervene right in the face of whoever is selling Danny drugs.”

“Ah, the violence route,” said Tucker. “How did we get here so quickly?”

“Shut up,” said Sam. “Anything else we do is just going to get Danny in trouble, and I’m not doing that. Even if he’s being a garbage friend right now.”

“Yeah…” said Tucker. “So how are we doing this?”

“We?”

“I may not be the best friend in the whole wide world, but even crappy friends don’t let each other beat up drug dealers in alleyways on their own, even if they do have five years of self-defense classes under their belts. What if this guy has a gun? What if there’s more than one?”

Sam buried her head in her hands. “Frick,” she said, very softly.

“Would this count as vigilantism, by the way? That’s illegal, right?”

“Frick,” repeated Sam, more passionately.

“Is this going to be our superhero origin story?” asked Tucker, turning his eyes skyward and making his voice waver dramatically.

“Don’t even joke about that. The only superhero we know of is dead.”

Tucker turned to look up at Sam. “I still can’t believe you believe that. Something weird is going on, but… ghosts? That sounds more like Danny’s parents than anything acquainted with reality.”

“You’d believe it, too, if you were there,” muttered Sam. “If you—” She shook herself. “Whatever. You, me, tomorrow?”

“If I knew what you were asking me to do, I’d probably say yes.”

“Following Danny, duh.”

“Sure, but… Joking about punching drug dealers or whoever is beating Danny up aside, we should probably treat this as just recon. Because I don’t want to get shot by some crackhead in an alley. Like, if I did become a ghost, my parents would kill me.”

“Not if the Fentons got you first.”

“Aw, Sam. You wouldn’t let them hurt your bestest undead friend, now would you?”

“Best undead friend? No. You? Yes.”

Tucker snorted, choked, and started wheezing.

“Anyway, I’m not getting into a fight with you anywhere near me. If you didn’t take yourself out, you’d take me out.”

“Don’t say it.”

“Bad luck Tuck.”

“Ugh, you said it.”

Both of them sighed, staring across the street without really seeing anything.

“Tomorrow, then,” said Sam, feeling vaguely relieved.

“Tomorrow,” agreed Tucker.

Whatever had decided to crawl out of the woodwork to torment Danny today hovered on the edge of his awareness, making him shiver intermittently as he played the most aggravating game of ‘hot and cold’ in the world. Where was it? He’d lost track of it after he chased it away from Mr. Quigley, the janitor.

His breath came out blue, briefly, and green flashed in the corner of his eye before something checked him against the shoulder. He stumbled, biting back curses (he was a superhero, now, technically, and he needed to be a good role model), and gripping his hip. The cut from yesterday had healed a lot, but not completely.

But- He knew the ghost was close, now. Close and fast. He’d been trying to save his energy by tracking the ghost down as human, but now… He felt himself smile.

It was not a particularly nice smile. It was full of all the stress and nonsense he’d had to put up with since August.

He was going to beat this little interloper into the ground, teach it better than to haunt his town, hurt his people and get away with it.

Bright white light swept over him, and he jumped into the air.

“Holy—”

“No,” said Tucker. “We did not just see that. I refuse.”

“That was—” Sam made a large sweeping upwards motion. “He just flew off! What the heck kind of drugs do that? This is—This is—I don’t even know how to say it!” She kicked a nearby garbage can and then sunk down into a crouch.

(Even in this state of mind, she was not kneeling on the ground here. It was gross.)

“We didn’t—It’s got to be something his parents made. Like Fenton Ghost Steroids or something,” said Tucker, who was shaking.

“His parents,” said Sam. “His parents. They’ve been shooting at him, Tucker.”

“I mean… Yeah. I guess so. But we didn’t… Sam,” he croaked. “Did Danny die and not tell us?”

“No. No. Just, no. No way. He—You were right, earlier. It has to be ghost steroids or something, and his parents don’t know, so that means we still have to beat up his dealer, but they’re probably a ghost, how do we beat up a ghost?”

“We could ask Danny’s parents?”

“God, no!” She shook her head violently. “Did you miss the part where they’re shooting at him?”

Tucker shrugged, defensively. “Well, who else could teach us how to fight ghost drug dealers?” He pushed his glasses up his nose and stared up at the sky. “Maybe it’s not drugs, though? Like, in retrospect, if it isn’t painkillers, I can’t really see Danny taking drugs. Even ghost drugs that give you superpowers.”

“I hate all the words that just came out of your mouth. I must be having a psychotic break.”

“Hey, wait, that’s my line. I’m the one in denial. Give it back.”

“Find your own denial.”

“We can’t both be in denial. Someone needs to drive this car.”

“Drive you right off a cliff, that’s what I’ll do. And I’m going to kill Danny for not telling us about whatever this is.” Sam’s gestures grew progressively more violent.

“I don’t think you can kill a ghost. They’re already—”

“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.”

Tucker held up his hands in surrender. “Do you think we should wait for him to come back?”

“He probably won’t,” said Sam. “I mean… he can… fly… apparently.”

“Yeah. Can’t believe he had his superhero origin story without us.”

“This isn’t a joke, Tucker,” snapped Sam.

“Well, I’m sorry I have a coping mechanism, okay?” Tucker sighed. “Should we go back to class?”

“I guess,” said Sam, kicking at the ground. “We’re jumping Danny at the first opportunity, though.”

“Duh,” said Tucker.

Danny limped into seventh period, drained, and flinched away from Sam and Tucker’s glares. He felt sick.

There wasn’t anything he could do about the ghost attacks except try to finish them faster, but he’d been a terrible friend lately. They probably were starting to hate him. They were going to leave him. He could tell. He couldn’t even blame them.

If he told them—

No.

They’d be in danger.

Danger from what, at this point, wasn’t clear, because even if they knew, Danny wasn’t going to let them near any ghost fights, but danger was definitely involved. A lot of it.

But if they stopped being friends with him…

The cold thing that had taken up residence in his chest cringed, and he stumbled. Dash laughed, made an inane comment about his coordination, and lobbed a ball of paper at the back of Danny’s head. Danny barely noticed.

He didn’t want that. He needed his friends.

Sam and Tucker were having some kind of conversation with only their facial expressions by the time Danny sat down, effectively ignoring him. Now the little ball of cold in his chest felt crushed.

(Just barely, he resisted the urge to check his pulse. Whatever had been added to him, he still had that.)

(He was still alive.)

Sam and Tucker were very studiously not looking at him.

He sank lower in his chair.

It hurt.

As soon as they were able to, Sam and Tucker dragged Danny into a secluded nook formed by the intersection of two of the school’s exterior walls and shaded by a large bush. It was unlikely that anyone would bother them there.

Danny looked surprised, apprehensive, and oddly pleased at the same time.

“Uh,” he said, very eloquently.

He probably intended to say more than that, of course, but Sam didn’t give him the chance.

“We followed you when you skipped today,” she said.

Immediately, all the blood in his face drained away, leaving him bone pale. “What?”

“In our defense,” said Tucker, “we thought you were meeting a drug dealer. Or going to fight in an underground club.”

“No, we didn’t,” said Sam. “Well, we did with the drug dealer, but not the underground fighting ring. That’s stupid. Drugs make so much more sense.”

“You think I’m on drugs?” wailed Danny.

“Thought,” emphasized Tucker. “Past tense.”

“That’s not any better!”

“Au contraire! Now we think you’re on ghost drugs!”

“I am not on ghost drugs!” hissed Danny. “Where would I even get ghost drugs?”

“Your parents?” suggested Sam.

“Why would my parents have ghost drugs?”

“To drug ghosts with? I don’t know, man, your parents are weird.”

“Why would ghost drugs even—Wait. How much did you even see?” asked Danny, squinting suspiciously. “Did you actually see anything, or are you just trying to get me to say something?”

“To be fair, we are trying to get you to say something.”

“We saw you turn into the ghost boy and fly off after a ghost,” said Sam, sharply.

“Oh. Heck.” Danny leaned against the wall. “You did see something, then.”

“Yeah, and we want to know, if it isn’t ghost drugs, how? And why?” asked Sam. “And why didn’t you tell us?”

“I just, um. I didn’t—This is just—I’m freaked out, okay? This is really freaking weird, and I—You’re not going to tell my parents, are you?”

“If you’re getting high off of ghost drugs,” said Tucker, “then, yeah, maybe. Don’t think we haven’t noticed you looking like hell. There’s got to be a bunch of side effects from ghost drugs.”

“Oh my gosh, Tucker, I’m not on ghost drugs. There are no ghost drugs, and, considering everything, I’d really prefer it if you didn’t give my parents the idea of ghost drugs because that’s the absolute last thing I need.”

Danny finished the sentence in a rush and now he was breathing too much, which was just great, because apparently that was a thing that could happen to him, now. Going from maybe not needing to breathe to breathing too much… He was really having doubts about his humanity right now, and his friends were mad at him because they thought he was on ghost drugs. Ghost drugs.

“I’m not on ghost drugs,” he said, perfectly calm.

“Are you—Dude, I think you’re hyperventilating.”

Okay. Maybe not perfectly calm. He slid the rest of the way down the wall to the ground, which, wow, was a thing he was doing a lot, lately.

“Danny?” asked Sam, hesitant.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Mostly. Just. Give me a minute, okay?”

They gave him a minute. The minute spiraled into five. Then ten. Which was a really long time to spend in anxious, awkward silence.

“Okay,” said Danny. “So. Uh. Accident. In the lab. With the stupid ghost portal. It kind of messed me up a bit. Like. And then I’ve been able to, uh, turn into a ghost. Since then.”

“You can just… turn into a ghost?” ventured Sam.

“Yeah.”

“Just, like, whenever?”

“Yeah. Pretty much. At the beginning I couldn’t control it at all, which was pretty, um… Yeah. And I can’t when I’m too tired.”

“So, you can die on command?”

“I’m not dead!” snapped Danny.

Tucker took a step back, hitting the bush. “Sorry. I’m just trying to wrap my head around this whole… thing”

“Yeah,” agreed Sam. “I mean, you’re breathing and everything. That means you’re alive. You’re not dead.”

“I’m not dead,” repeated Danny. “I’ve just got, like, ghost powers, or something.”

“Yeah. That makes sense. Because you can’t be dead and alive at the same time.” Sam laughed. It sounded more than a little forced. “That would be—That’s impossible! Right?”

“Right.” Danny took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was alive. Sam agreed.

“And, uh, thanks,” said Sam.

Danny looked up, surprised. “What?”

“For saving me from that ghost,” explained Sam.

“Oh.” He blinked. “You’re welcome? It really—I mean, of course I saved you. You’re my friend.”

Tucker leaned in. “I think Sam has a crush on ghost you.”

“Tucker, if I kill you, they’ll never find the body,” said Sam.

“No murder, please,” said Danny. He sniffed. “Are we—Are we okay, now?”

“No,” said Sam. She poked him in the head. “I still don’t get why you didn’t tell us. And you have to tell us everything. And let us help you. Because you really do look like you’re on drugs. That’s how crappy you look.”

“You can’t,” protested Danny, alarmed. “I’ve got, you know, but you-!”

“I don’t think she means actively fighting the ghosts, dude.”

“The hell I don’t.”

“Okay, maybe Sam wants to actively fight the undead, or whatever, but you need people to cover for you, at least. Your skipping out of class thing is… not subtle. Why do you do that, anyway? Why not go after the ghosts when it isn’t school time?”

“I don’t really have a choice,” mumbled Danny. “I can feel them, and it’s like, I don’t know…” He looked up. “Can we… talk about this somewhere else? I don’t want to do this in the open.”

“Crud. Yeah,” said Tucker. “No superhero stuff where normal people can hear it. Come on, we can camp out in my attic or something.”

“Are there even normal people in Amity Park?” asked Danny, pushing himself off the ground.

“I don’t—Oh my god, Danny, what is that?”

“What is-? Oh. Yeah. So. Ghosts are not gentle. And some of them have swords.”

“You got stabbed?” wheezed Tucker, his voice squeaking. “By a ghost?”

“More like slashed, but…” Danny raised his hands helplessly. “Yeah.” He rubbed one of his eyes. He was exhausted.

“Are you… okay?”

Danny laughed. “No. No, I am not. Can we go, now? Please?”

“I’m saying this as someone who hates hospitals, but you should get that looked at. Really.”

“I’m ninety percent sure I have ectoplasm in my blood, so I’m going to take a hard pass on that one.”

“Ouch!” said Danny. His most recent fight with a ghost had been violent, and he’d yet again come away with injuries Sam and Tucker deemed ‘serious.’ “Are you sure you’re doing this right?”

“Look, Mr. No-Hospital, I had to learn first-aid from YouTube. And I’ve only had a week to learn, because you didn’t tell us you decided to take up the family business.”

“Still more than what he did for himself,” said Tucker, peering over the back of Sam’s sofa. “It’s just butterfly clips, anyway. Not stitches.”

“Heh, butterfly clips,” said Danny. “Makes me think of—Ouch!—barrettes.”

“Berets?” asked Tucker, adjusting his hat.

“Barrettes. Hair barrettes. Like, you know, the one Star wears all the time. With the flower.”

“Oh. Yeah. No, I get what you mean. But, yeah, you’re right about Danny’s medical skills. Or should I say, the lack thereof.”

“Guys, I’m injured. Can you give it a rest?”

“Hm. As you let yourself walk around with a mostly untreated stab wound, no.”

“It was more of a slash,” protested Danny. Again. “A cut. Not a stab.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” said Sam. “Anyway, I’m done. And you’re lucky whatever’s going on with your body keeps you from getting infections. I had to pick so much gravel out of your back it isn’t even funny.”

“Are we sure he can’t get infections?” mused Tucker. “He could just be really lucky.”

“In no universe am I lucky,” groaned Danny. “You’d think the freak lab accident would have shown you that.” Danny sat up and stretched before pulling his shirt back on.

“Speaking of,” said Sam. “Are you ever going to tell us what actually happened? You said it had to do with your parents’ portal, but…”

Danny had frozen. “I…” he said, softly, not looking at either of them. “I will. It’s just… not yet. I’m not… Just not yet.”

“It’s cool, man,” said Tucker. “Take your time. We’ll be there when you’re ready.”

Danny smiled. “Thanks.”

#danny phantom #prize #winner #danny is a mess when you remove his support network #fic #drugs?????#GHOST drugs????#jk no drugs here guys

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dizzydancingdreamer · 3 years

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The Servant and The Prince | Three

Part Three lovelies; do enjoy! I quite liked writing this part.

Description: This is very much a Cinderella trope because I cannot help myself and I am in love with Loki, chapter three

Pairing: Loki x Female!Reader, third person as I may adapt eventually with an OC

Warnings: Intimacy but not graphic, anger (is that a warning? I feel like it shouldn’t have to be said when it is a Loki fic, the man is canonically angry)

Tags: Fluff, not really angst but suspense

Word count: 4.4k

Disclaimer: I do not speak old Norse Lmfaoo this is purely the basics that I gathered and it 110% is grammatically incorrect so do not come at me for that I am admitting it

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Master List

“Please Surtr.”

Her voice rings through his ears on a loop, the most beautiful and agonizing melody that he has surely ever heard. She must be magic— something strong and powerful and like nothing he has ever seen before. There is no other explanation. It had been magic when she appeared to him, literally falling into his lap as if out of thin air. He is the god of tricks but even he cannot do that— he cannot make women that smell like flower petals land in his arms at will. He wishes he could— more than anything he wishes he could pluck her out of his dreams and bring her back to him. But he cannot because that was not a trick. That was something else entirely.

One moment he had been alone, mulling over his mother’s words from a few days prior. I think you might have a soulmate, my dear. He had been thinking about the information he had been scouring the castle’s libraries for about such a thing— information he was begging Frigga to tell him. Of course, in true Frigga nature she would not tell him. His mother is the most stubborn woman in the realm. Wonderful but stubborn. Only he could have an all-knowing mother who refused to share any of that knowledge. She told him it was dangerous to know the future— that it must happen as it will. What nonsense. How is he supposed to find her if he knows nothing about her?

The books were of little use to him as well. The information in them was outdated and flimsy at best. They consisted mainly of a couple second person accounts and scroll that he could translate if he was given a few days. Unfortunately time is of the essence and he does not have a few days. He barely has one day. One day to find his person or to give her up. And he thought he was the cruellest god. Apparently not. Anyway, that was where he was when she fell into his lap- mulling over a page of runes that looked more like gibberish than anything he had ever seen.

One moment he had been sitting at his desk, pretending like the sunshine on his hand was a product of any sky other than Asgard’s. The next moment he was being straddled by a misty figure that smelled like an afternoon in the castle gardens. He could not see a single detail about her— not her hair or her eyes or anything else— but he could feel her. She was warm and soft, her thighs heavenly around him. She was his own, little slice of Valhalla— a perfect fit. Frigga was right; all it took was a few seconds in her presence and he knew. She was his soulmate.

A soulmate who seemed like she was out to make him crazy for her, no less. Sure he could not see her but it was not hard to tell that her thighs around him were bare, squeezing him against her smooth skin with reckless abandon. It would have taken significantly less for him to go mad for her— honestly it would have taken nothing at all— but, Odin, if that was what she was going for then she definitely succeeded. He can still feel her warmth pressed against him, the way she had sunken down onto him immediately. She knew too. How much she knew he cannot say but she had to have known something- felt something— by the way she melted perfectly into him. She was his from the moment she appeared and she seemed to know it— embrace it. She acted like he was hers too and it was by far the sexiest thing he had ever experienced in all of his thousand years. That is surely saying something.

Obviously he did not just simply give in to her flowery aroma and Valhalla thighs- he had tried to speak to her. Many times actually. She just could not hear him. Of course it took him many times to realize that. He probably asked for her name and where she came from about a hundred times before she finally rocked her hips against his and tapped her lips with two wispy fingers. Be quiet you idiot, I cannot hear you. That is what he imagined she had said. It is what he would have said to himself if he were in her position.

He was floored, to say the least. He has never been floored before- not like that at least. Not in a good way. He stopped wondering where she came from after that. It no longer mattered from where on Asgard she had appeared, only how to ensure that she did not leave him again. He had been looking for her- scouring useless books and a stubborn mother- and then there she was, right before him, and he was determined to hold onto her.

Still, he had not leaned immediately into her touch. She had not made it easy on him, her gentle fingers reaching up to cup his face, scratching through the days worth of hair on his jaw. That was impossible to resist, he simply had to press his lips against her palm. The rest, though, made him go still, evaluating the situation. He had no clue what she actually wanted- how much she actually understood. He had grabbed her hips in reflex- a defense mechanism- she had appeared out of literal thin air after all. He had gone to move his hand almost immediately after grabbing her- well, once the shock had worn off. She was quite warm, though. Distractingly so. It takes a few seconds to push through that kind of daze. That was where things got interesting.

She had begun sliding off him. Maybe she had been in that same sweet daze too because, from what little of her he could see through the misty white haze, she appeared to be lost in her own little world. Her bottom lip was pushed out- colourless but plump- her soft body slowly shifting. There is no way she had noticed; she had made no move to catch herself.

So he did.

He is not really in the game of letting women fall into heaps on his bedroom floor, let alone one that makes his heart beat the way that she does. It was a simple action- all he did was anchor his arm more steadily around her body- but in doing so he unleashed a chain of reactions that, even now, he cannot fully comprehend. It is honestly quite mind boggling how everything played out. If Frigga had woken him up that morning and told him that his soulmate would jump into his lap later that day and then proceed to tease him for an entire hour, he would have laughed. No, he would have rolled over and gone back to sleep. The point is he would not have believed her. Frigga, his oracle mother. Maybe that is why she did not tell him.

So there she was, falling, and there he was, catching her, and somewhere in that small chain reaction he had pulled her higher onto his lap- again, to keep her from falling off him completely- and that is when her eyes flashed the brightest silver he has ever seen. It was only for a few seconds but it was there; he saw it! It had made him freeze. Not many things make him freeze. He is a god. But there he was, frozen on that stupid wooden chair with what he can only assume was the most idiotic expression any man has ever held. It had to be magic- there is no other explanation for the way his ability to breathe completely vanished. It was like her eyes mattered more than air itself.

Meanwhile she was moving her hips again and then her hands were digging into his shoulders. It was blissful- no that is not strong enough. Trekking through the woods alone is blissful; she was something else entirely. Of course he was still frozen- a damn statue- as his little soulmate squeezed those Valhalla thighs around him harder and sunk down onto him- right in that exact spot that made him wonder for a second if she was sent to him as a test of willpower.

But no, there is no way that was the case; not with the way her silver eyes sparked again and rolled back into her head like it was the first time she had ever felt something like that. Not with the way her misty lips had parted, some of the luscious color finally peeking through, releasing a sound that he would have gladly fought every other god in the realm to be able to hear. He could not help but reach out in that moment and touch her face. He had to make sure she was real. Yes, she was on his lap but that was not enough. He had to know for sure. As soon as his fingers had met her soft skin it was game over. She was real and she was there.

His hand hooked around the back of her neck easily, as though her head was meant to be held by him- the same way her thighs engulfed him perfectly. He nudged her gently- for a moment she had gone still. Asleep maybe. He wanted to see her eyes again though. He had not been disappointed when her eyelids opened to reveal a lightning storm of molten silver swirling in her irises. Forget Valhalla thighs; every part of her was carved from the stuff of the heavens. Still he glanced down to look at them, his eyes dancing over where her misty dress had ridden up to reveal two perfectly smooth legs. Magic, he had thought to himself again. Definitely magic.

He needed more.

He had to make her eyes spark even more. He had pulled her higher- closer- his hand squeezing her hip, pushing her into him harder. It worked. But not only did it work, it made something more happen. It made her speak. It made him hear her. Sort of. Not fully, her voice was muffled- like she was trapped under the surf- but he could hear some of it. The little sighs and whines. He could hear them and now that he could hear them he never wanted them to stop hearing them. It seemed like she felt the same way, her hands shooting out and dragging his face towards her, her muffled voice now frantic. There are very few things that he would have not done in that moment to understand what she was saying. Thankfully he had not had to do any of them. She had not given him the chance to do any of them.

He will hand it to his soulmate, she is a strong little thing. To be fair he had not been expecting for her to literally yank him closer to her, fisting his shoulders like she was on a whole different kind of mission than the one he was starting to believe she was on. For a moment there he thought he was going to stop breathing for a completely different reason. A deadly reason. But no, she was not trying to kill him. That is not to say that his heart did not stop- it most certainly had. How could it not? Her dress was fully around her hips now. That would make even the strongest man crumble. He would like to think that he is the strongest man but, honestly, in that moment he had to rethink that stance. He was not strong there.

Apparently he had froze again because the next thing he knew she was throwing herself at him harder, her flower scented body wrapping around him completely as she sank against his neck. She was not letting up- his heart was going to fail, he had been sure of it. He was going to die and she was going to disappear and whoever found him would be left to wonder what in Asgard happened in order to make the trickster god die with a shit eating grin on his face. How fucking ironic.

To think she had not even started torturing him yet and he was already imagining his demise. Looking back on it now he could laugh. In fact he does, a small chuckle breaching his daydream. If only he had known that soon she would press her velvet lips against his neck and steal the last drop of his composure. Maybe he would have been able to intercept it- to press his own lips against hers and feel that lighting sparking through her veins. If only foresight was as sharp as hindsight. What a terribly cruel thing it is to be able to know what he should have done only after it has happened.

Before he can fall deeper into the memory- that blithe experience of pressing her soft body into the very desk he sits at now- there is a knock on his door.

“Loki?” He is not even the slightest bit surprised to hear Frigga’s voice filtering in from the other side of the heavy wooden door.

He does not bother standing. “Come in, mother.”

His room fills with the squeaking of the door on it’s hinges and the soft sound of her heels click, click, clicking against the stone floor. He turns slightly over his shoulder, peering at the tall woman as she glides towards him. If he were not able to hear her shoes he would swear that she is floating, not actually touching the floor. She is much too graceful for her own good, especially given the clunky man she is married to. They definitely balance each other out, that is for sure.

Loki nods at her when she stops a few feet away from him. She glances around his room, her lips pressing together. He does not really know why- it is immaculate as always. Empty. Maybe that is the point, though. Maybe she wishes it was not. He wishes that at least. She continues to stare for a few more moments, her face shielded. It is unnerving, to say the least. He goes to offer her a greeting- to add some sound to the emptiness- but she beats him to it.

“You saw her.” She is still looking at his emerald bed.

His eyes widen. He blinks a few times to hide it but his mother never turns to look at him. Now she stares out the window, lifting one of her small hands to wave in and out of the light that filters through. He cannot look at the light for too long without his mind wandering dangerously. A wandering mind is never usually dangerous but around Frigga it is the most dangerous thing a person can have. He refuses to give his mother even more access to his mind than she already has.

He sinks back against the chair, schooling his features into a cool grin when she finally turns to look at him. “Saw who?”

Frigga rolls her crystal eyes at him, scoffing. “Do not play coy with me son. Now is not the time for games.”

His grin drops. Yeah, that is pretty much exactly what he is expecting her to say. Still he had to try. One of these days he will be able to bar his nosy mother from his thoughts. Not today, but one day.

“Yes, I saw her.” He grinds out. Sometimes speaking to her feels like when he was a boy having his baby teeth pulled out- irritating.

“Do go on. I somehow doubt that is where the story ends.” She leans her back against the wall near his window, her slender arms crossing over her chest, brushing against her flowing blonde hair.

He has to look away again, standing and turning to gaze anywhere but in that general area. There is too much electricity still- too much of her. He does not know what to say about her. He is not about to share the gory details with his mother. He refuses. If she wants to know that badly then she can close her eyes and conjure the image herself, she is more than capable of such a simple spell. For her it would be as easy as breathing.

“She just appeared,” he shrugs. It is the truth, after all. “Out of thin air. One moment nothing and the next moment-” he spins back to his mother, mimicking a small explosion with his fingers- “poof. A soulmate.”

Frigga raises a golden brow, her lips caught somewhere between a smile and a frown. “Poof?”

“A soulmate.” Loki finishes for her, shrugging again.

He does not understand it either. It is almost comical- two of the most powerful beings in the realm positively stumped over a disappearing act. This is child's play after all! Surely one of those books he had been scouring earlier would know something about this. If only he had known what to look for at the time. Vanishing soulmates. Invisible girl. Lightning eyes. Again, hindsight is a jest.

“Well,” Frigga muses, lines appearing on her otherwise flawless forehead as she paces a few steps, her heels click-clicking again. “What did she look like?”

This time he laughs. Now it is comical. “I have not the faintest clue.”

She freezes in her pacing, now half-way across his room, “what do you mean you have not a clue? Surely you must have seen her.”

He shakes his head again, his laughter a little more desperate this time. Suddenly it is not so funny anymore. It never was. He knows that. Better than anyone. He can feel everywhere her body is not touching his and it is a kind of agony that he had not known existed prior to this. He has been in battles before- had pieces of him sliced off and sewn back on- but this is different. You cannot stitch an invisible wound. There is no blood proof, no sign of injury, not even a limp. Just a man who feels like his insides are being ripped out of his body- like his damn organs are trying to find their way back to her; with or without him. He almost breaks down and pleads with them. Take me with you.

“Loki?” Frigga’s hand against his face breaks him from his daze. She is always saving him; it is infuriating.

His voice is just a whisper when finally answers. “No, mother. She was just mist. I could touch her but I could not see her. Well, not her appearance. I could see the mist.”

His mother’s hand on his cheek stills. “Can you explain the mist?”

His back straightens, the corners of his mouth turning down in a sneer he cannot force away. Usually he would never be so cruel with Frigga, no matter how badly he would like to. It makes him feel guilty- ashamed. He never wants to hurt her. Right now, though, he cannot keep the ice out of his voice. It is in his nature after all.

“It was mist. I really do not know what you want me to say. White mist. Clouds maybe. Is there anything else you would like to know, mother?” He squeezes his fist together, concealing where the tips of his fingers begin to frost over.

It is pointless- she would not have noticed anyway. She had drawn away from as soon as he started describing his invisible soulmate. Now Frigga’s face is stoney- her eyes glazed over. She is no longer in his room. He does not know where she is but he has seen this happen before. Not often enough to keep his heart from skipping a beat. His mother is fine but somewhere inside him that scared little boy debates tugging on her sleeve just to make sure.

“Hylli mær.” He flinches back when she speaks.

Her voice does not sound like his mother’s usual gentle tread. It is deeper- stronger- and echoes against the stone walls. Loyal maiden. Frigga never uses the old tongue anymore. She used to, when he was little. It was how he learned the language of the gods. She would sing him lullabies about kings and monsters, all in a language he could not decipher. For what seemed like the longest time he could not understand the stories. Then one day he could. It was as simple as that- as simple as a children's song. This is different though- she is not singing to him anymore.

Loki takes a careful step back towards his mother, noting how her eyes do not follow his movements. “Mother, what are you-”

Frigga’s eyes snap to him and he goes rigid, his words halting. Her gaze still does not reach him but the haunting stare on his mother’s face could very well fool most people. Not her son, but most people. It is still unsettling, the hair on the back of his neck raising. That might be from the way the ends of her golden hair begin to float up around her face though. Her pink lips keep moving but no words form. Loki takes one of her hands, tensing when her molten skin touches his freezing fingers. His touch makes her speak again.

“Silfr auga, ríkr mær.” Silver eyed, powerful maiden.

Her voice is louder this time, no doubt seeping into the hallway. Her hair now floats around the crown of her head and the flowing sleeves of her gown begin to rise as well. He cannot be sure what his mother is seeing but whatever it is does not seem like a walk in the gardens. Her skin grows hotter by the second until finally he has to drop her hand to keep from burning his own flesh. He glances down at his hands, noticing the azure shade rising to meet the new temperature and blanching. No.

“Stǫðva!” He barks, grasping his mother’s slender shoulders, recoiling at the sharp edge in his voice. He has to do it, he reminds himself.

Thankfully that is all it takes to snap her out of her vision. Frigga blinks rapidly, her golden hair dropping against her chest, her crystal eyes darting around his room before focussing in on him again. It takes a moment for her sleeves to drop as well but when they do he decides it is okay to let go of her.

“Loki?” She lifts a hand to her eye, rubbing a circle under her brow. “What happened?”

What? He cocks his head, his mouth opening. He presses it closed quickly. Once again he has no idea what to say. Does she not remember? He lifts his eyes to the window, trying to form a sentence that will make even a little bit of sense. He is starting to get really tired of not knowing what to say. Some silver tongue he is.

“Mother-” he keeps his voice gentle, a stark contrast to the last few moments- “you were having a vision. You spoke in the tongue of the gods. Can you remember anything you saw?”

There is silence in his room for a long moment as he watches Frigga’s finger stop, her lips pursing. In that moment he wishes many things. He wishes he could hear the click-clicking of her heels, if only to fill the quiet. He wishes he were back in the library, scouring for anything that might give him even the faintest clue as to what in Niflheim is happening to him. Most of all though he wishes he was curled up once more with the soft girl- his soft girl- her face pressed against his neck and his hands locked around her back. He does not even have to see her- he will take anything at this point. Anything for just a second of peace. He cannot recall ever having felt this damn tired before.

Frigga’s hands slam against his shoulders, her bright eyes wide. Her fingers tremble against his leather armor. “I remember-” she gasps and he tries to ignore the way her hair begins to rise again- “I remember! She is here!”

“What?” He chokes, his hands rushing out to grab his mother’s before she can pull away.

Something inside him snaps, his vision laser focusing on the woman in front of him. He is not giving her the chance to scamper away this time- she will tell him everything she knows. Now. He does not care that she is his mother. She said it herself; this is not a game anymore.

It never was.

“Tell me what you saw.” There is not even a hint of question in his voice.

“I did not see her, per say.” She responds, her brows narrowing, her eyes taking on that far away look again. It makes his shoulders soften- she is cooperating. “I saw the mist you spoke of though. I felt her. My son, she is strong. I do not know how I missed her presence when she entered the city. Her power is disguised I think- unlike anything I have felt. I do not even know if she knows it. She was following behind two people and in her arms were many bags. They have come for the festival. I could not see them either but they were passing the castle gates just moments ago. They are here-”

Loki hangs on to every word that flows from her mouth, picking the important details from her rambling. The more he hears the more his shoulders tighten again until finally his spine is as straight as a pin, his veins flowing with just barely veiled power. His fingertips are so cold now that he can no longer feel them.

Strong.

Power.

Disguised.

Castle.

Here.

As soon as that word slips from her tongue he is moving, spinning on his heel and all but sprinting out of his bedroom. He has no idea the direction to go or where to even begin looking for her. The castle alone is almost as big as the city. His mother had said she entered the castle though so that means through one of the gates. A picture of the large golden gates- the main gates- appears in his mind. That makes the most sense, the most people will be entering there. Before he knows it he is sprinting, his boots pounding against the stone as he pushes himself as fast as he can go. He will find her today, even if it is the last thing he does.

It very well might be too, because the raven haired god rushes out of his room before his mother can finish the last of her sentence- “and she is in great danger.”

#loki #loki laufeyson #loki fic #loki x y/n #loki x reader #loki layfeyson x reader #loki layfeyson imagine #loki imagine #mcu #mcu fic

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hadesisqueer · 4 years

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I'm bored and I don't care and you most probably don't care too but I don't care about that either, so here it comes: my Blake analysis.

People tend to think Yang is my favorite character. And, although they're not entirely wrong, because she's the character I relate the most to, my actual favorite character is Blake. I just find her so inspiring, and such an interesting character yet flawed character. CRWBY did a great job showing her traits as both the Beauty and the Beast, and I just love it.

Leaving the White Fang and Beacon times

Honestly, one of the things I admire the most about Blake is just how freaking brave she is. Because it takes an incredible amount of courage to be able to realize about your mistakes and seek a way to redeem yourself by learning to help people. And it takes a lot of strength to be able to leave your abuser behind.

Blake leaves the White Fang and gets into Beacon hoping for two things: redemption and a new life. She starts off as the typical quiet, kind of cynical (yet still idealistic), emo and mysterious girl who we knew basically nothing about her. We had basic information about the other three, but nothing from her except that she wore a bow and liked books.

I really liked how she seemed to not want to get close to anyone, but then the interactions with Ruby and Yang came. She, although kind of annoyed because they wouldn't let her read (mood), seemed amused by them, and even awkwardly tried to tell them that it was a pleasure to meet them as they fought and before Weiss came and she gave up reading (mood).

Which is one of the reasons I think she chose Yang as her partner. She was probably looking for a partner who she knew she could work well with. And having being partners with Adam, who was just as much of an offensive fighter as Yang, she knew she could work with that. That and the fact that she also seemed to like her and Ruby the night before, so Blake probably recognised her and followed her around to check if Yang could fight too (also because she was hot okay this is just me shipping). And when she saw she could, she was probably like “Okay, I'm keeping this one”. Which is fun, because Blake was the quiet girl and then she went and chose the most extrovert partner (besides Nora) there was. And actually liked having her around, as anyone could see when she smiled when Yang said something.

And that's the thing: she didn't want to get really close to anyone, but she was really eager to start a new life. Even though she wasn't really sure about Weiss, she had good teammates and genuinely liked them. She joined Ruby and Yang in their idiocy (love those two) from the start and showed to be as much as a dork as them if she wanted. She was relaxed with them and liked team JNPR too (we never really saw her having conversations with them alone but if she sat with Pyrrha in class it meant she was cool with them too) and, if you read the books, she was really good friends with team CFVY as well.

Still, she was afraid to open up about her past, or even tell them about being a faunus to the point that when she slipped and told them when she was mad at Weiss being an ignorant, she ran away. Because after all, she doesn't think they would like her true self. I mean, we're talking about a girl who ran away from the White Fang because she realized it had turned into basically a terrorist organisation -one she took part of, and left her family behind for. A girl who's suffered from abuse, making her feel like she doesn't deserve anything good. It's crystal clear in the comics (though they're vol 4 content), Blake thinks she is poison and ruins everything good around her. And she felt like she'd just ruined it again. Which is why when she sees that they don't care, and that Weiss has decided she doesn't care either (and to me, that's the beginning of her arc of being an ignorant and daddy's girl to “when I see a racist a floor him and fucky you, dad), Blake almost cries.

Then in vol 2 she is literally obsessed with Torchwick and the White Fang. It's understandable: she used to be part of that organisation (goddammit, her own father created it) and she's had to see how it went from believing in peace and equality to becoming more violent to start working with human crime lords in a way that doesn't seem to benefit the faunus at all? She knew there was something big going on, and even if she had to fight her own past, she was willing to if that's what it took to find out what it was. It's funny because I felt like she was the main protagonist in that volume instead of Ruby and it's true: she was the one calling the shots.

The thing is that she took it too far and led her to basically become obsessed with the White Fang, as I said. To the point that Yang had to almost literally slap some sense into her and tell her to chill and go to sleep. And well, it worked. She took Yang's advice and didn't forget her goals, but took her time instead of destroying herself in the process.

In vol 3, she seems more relaxed than we'd ever seen. She doesn't have to hide who she is to the people she cares about, because she's slowly opening up more and they are understanding. They succesfully stopped a Grimm attack in Vale and got Torchwick in jail, so she felt more confident and hopeful. And they were killing it at the Vytal Festival. So yeah, she deserved to chill a little, enjoy herself, to be a little goofy and eat some tuna with her friends. The girl had earned it.

... but it's volume 3, and if it fucked everyone up, it wasn't going to be any different with Blake. Like, for fuck's sake, give the poor girl a break.

It starts with Yang breaking Mercury's leg and Blake not knowing what to think. Because as she said, the whole situation was so familiar. She'd had a passionate and aggressive yet “kind” partner before, one she thought she loved and trusted, and he slowly became more and more violent, and more abusive, and for a long time, she was blind to it. And then Yang does that. Her passionate and kind of aggressive yet sweet new partner, who she may already had romantic feelings for (even if she hadn't realized yet), who even had the same semblance as Adam. Was it all happening again?

Yang and Adam are, after all, foils of each other in a way. They're really similar. The main difference is how they deal with their suffering: Adam used it as an excuse for hurting others and never really got over it, and Yang took meaning from it instead and found the way to move on. Her heart was never driven by hate; she used her pain to become a better, stronger person. After all, just as Blake said, Adam was Spite, and Yang was Strength.

Blake's reaction was understandable. She was a victim of abuse and the situation reminded her of it. And as I said, it didn't help that Adam and Yang were so similar. But deep down, she knew that Yang wasn't Adam, that there was an explanation, which is why she gave Yang that chance to tell her. And she knew Yang wasn't lying.

And then everything gets REALLY fucked up for everyone. The situation couldn't be worse. Penny has died, Ruby is at Amity Arena, Yang is still at the dorms. Blake and Weiss are fighting together at Beacon against the White Fang and Grimm- and also the robots. And getting separated was honestly the worst thing they could have done, but Blake went after that Beowolf. And then she found Adam.

I don't think I have to even explain how I think she felt at that moment, when she saw her abuser right there in front of her eyes, for the first time since she left him. I think the look in her eyes are enough to express how terrified and conflicted she was. And yet, she is brave enough to fight him. And she loses. And then the guy uses “summon love interest” card and Yang appears, and he sees right through Blake. And the thing she feared the most happens. She's ruined it. She's really ruined it.

Vol 4 & 5 or the Belladonnas, Sun and Ilia.

Volume 4 is, without any doubt, Blake's lowest point, and again, thank God for having her parents and Sun around, because the girl was almost suicidal (most of all, when you read the comics). As I said, she feels like she's poison who ruins everything good around her, and this once, the universe has proved her right. Yang, her lovable partner who had been nothing but sweet, funny and understanding since she'd met her, had lost an arm trying to save her. And she knew that Adam wasn't kidding when he said that he'd kill her. So she left because she'd rather have Yang, Ruby and Weiss hating her than risking their lives. And because she couldn't stand the guilt she felt. The poor girl hated herself for what happened.

It took her while to decide to go back to Menagerie, but she did, and I was honestly thrilled to find out about her family. Like, we knew about Ruby and Yang being sisters and later we also find out more about their family life. We knew about Weiss being the heiress of the SDC, that she came from an important family, and later we know that she has siblings and it's implied that her father is a dickhead. But we didn't know anything about Blake's family life. We didn't know if she had any family at all or if she was an orphan, or if she had been abandoned, or if she was poor or rich. I think a lot of people had those headcannons before vol 4. But nope. Those ideas were obliterated.

Her father had created the White Fang, which explained why Blake always took the whole matter so personal: it was her legacy, and it had been taken from her and became corrupted. Not only wasn't she poor: she was some sort of fucking princess and owned a mansion. And not only wasn't she an orphan or an abandoned kid: out of team RWBY, she was the only one with two functional, loving parents. She clearly felt guilty about leaving them as well but both of her parents forgave her without any doubts, and showed her unconditional love. Kali and Ghira were two understanding and forgiving people who loved their daughter more than anything, and really, it was such a relief.

And I have my issues with the whole Sun thing, most of all after reading Before the Dawn. He followed her without permission, didn't respect her boundaries and she got too aggressive with him sometimes because of that (first slap I get it, the other two no). And I don't think he was completely necessary for the whole Battle of Haven thing. But at the same time, I really think having him around actually helped Blake a lot. Because yes, he didn't understand her many times, but I do think that having him around helped her as much as her parents. He had a big crush on her, and Blake did like him back, but never at the same level. After the time-skip, he still liked her but her crush on him had faded. And he took his time, but he realized. Blake didn't need a boyfriend, she needed a partner, a good friend who opened her eyes and made her understand that not everything that happens is her fault. That pushing people away with the excuse of protecting them wasn't helping anyone: she was just hurting herself and others more. And that's what he became. And I love the fact that he never for a second thought that she owed him anything: he helped her because he wanted, not because he expected anything from Blake. He would literally be disgusted with people who think she did owe him. Sun has his issues but he is an amazing friend and a perfect example of a guy without one bit of toxic masculinity, and his friendship with Blake is just great (can't wait to see more of them. Brotp).

Blake got love, forgiveness, support and friendship from her parents and Sun, but honestly, I think that what finally pushed her to stop running away and put an end to this whole bullshit was Ilia's appearance. Her former best friend up until she left the White Fang (who was, by the way, the person who indirectly gave her the idea of using a bow to pass for human).

She had already seen someone she cared about lose his way and turn into a monster. Blake herself had lost her way for a good while, found it back and then lost it again, and was working to find it once more. Seeing Ilia in that situation too made her brain go like “Okay, there's no way I'm letting you end up like Adam”. Blake knew Ilia wasn't like Adam, she knew it wasn't too late for Ilia yet, just like it hadn't been too late for Blake herself. So she gave Ilia the same things her parents and Sun had given her, the same things team RWBY gave her once too: love, forgiveness and friendship. And by helping Ilia, Blake also helped herself. I've done this before in another post, but I'll do it again; as uncle Iroh said once: sometimes the best way to solve your own problems is to help someone else.

(I'm not going to get too deep about the White Fang; most of all, because I'd need an entire post just about it. I'll just say that even though I thought I liked most of it, I still have a lot of issues with the White Fang thing and I found the end to be a bit disappointing and rushed).

Back with team RWBY, rebuilding relationships and Adam's end.

I'll never stop thinking that the fact that she didn't know what the fuck was going on at Haven but still joined the fight was hilarious, but still, it really made sense. She's done running away from her fears and her past, and one of her fears was that: confronting her team (mostly, Yang, because of the whole Adam thing) after leaving them. And then they all appear right in front of her eyes.

Past Blake would run away again to avoid the consequences. But she'd grown from that. Instead, she dealt with her own problems with Adam and the White Fang, and as soon as she was done, she went right back into the building and start fighting by Weiss and Ruby's side. And after the fight, while she was talking to her family and Ilia, Sun gave her the final push: he encouraged her to go and actually talk to the team, and she did. She went and told them that if they gave her a second chance, she wouldn't leave them again. Because she knows that leaving them had been one of the biggest mistakes of her life, if not the biggest one. She didn't know if they'd forgive her (a part of her probably still thought they wouldn't, and that she probably didn't deserve it anyway) but she still tried. And Ruby and Weiss accept her without questions. And honestly, the face Blake makes when she sees that Yang is also accepting her back and then they all invite her to the group hug still gets me every time.

She was obviously really happy that they'd forgiven her and that they gave her another chance that it's clear she was really trying to make the most of it. She clearly wanted to make up for lost time, and really make up for leaving, showing Ruby a bunch of times that she was always ready to follow her lead, reassuring Weiss after finding the bodies and... the whole thing with Yang. Because she felt guilty. But don't think Blake was feeling guilty because of the arm thing; at least, not anymore. She had reached a point where she understood that Adam's actions weren't her fault. No, she felt guilty because she left.

Yang had told her about Raven, and Blake knew that the poor girl had some serious abandonment issues (actually, Blake and Raven are kind of similar as well but with many differences, like the fact that they both tend to run away when they're scared, but for different reasons; one leaves by putting people in harm's way to protect herself, and the other because she wants to protect people in the wrong way. Eventually both get called out on that behaviour, and one responds with running away again, and the other with learning to not to run and face her fears. Both are foils of each other in Yang's eyes just like Yang and Adam in Blake's. Okay I'll continue). And Blake knew that when she left Yang, she most likely made said issues worse. Which is why she was trying so hard to make sure that Yang knew she wasn't leaving her again. She even actually tells her over and over again. “I'm not leaving”, “I'll hurry back”, “I'm not gonna break my promise, I swear”. Even during the Bees vs Adam fight, she says “I have people who actually care about me and I promised I'd never leave them again, so I'm not dying now”. That states two things:

1) She wants to fucking live, of course.

2) Blake is telling Yang that she is not going to die, not only because, as I said, she is a normal person who wants to live. But because she knows that, even if she would totally do it given the case, Yang doesn't want her to sacrifice herself for her, because then, she'd be leaving her again. She is telling Yang that she's not going to do that, and that they'd leave that place together.

But the thing is, Blake was trying SO hard to be there for her that she made things awkward, making Yang think Blake believed she was fragile and needed protection, which wasn't the case (I already talked about all this and Yang hating people taking care of her she thinks it makes her weak in the Yang analysis). And which is why Blake corrected herself and said “protecting each other”, as equals.

(Before people complain about how I'm talking too much about Yang in here, let's be clear: you can't make an Yang analysis without talking about Blake. Just like you can't make a Jaune analysis without talking about Pyrrha. You can't make a Salem analysis without talking a lot about Ozma. Or a Weiss one and not mention her entire family. Because that's what happens when you write a complex character with varied relationships with different characters - the relationships shape the character into what they are-. And Blake and Yang's arcs is so intertwined with the others' since the Fall of Beacon that you can't make an analysis of one without talking a lot about the other. Thus, I'm analyzing their relationship too, just like I'm talking about Sun, Adam and more. And yes, I'm doing this from the romantic perspective. Because, in case you hadn't noticed, the relationship stopped being platonic since Heroes and Monsters, and has been showing to be more and more romantic as the show goes on. It's been even confirmed to be romantic. So please, anon, I'm talking to you: if you don't like it stop reading lmao).

Now for the Adam part. Man, I can't even talk about this.

People complain that it didn't make sense that Blake seemed full of confidence at Haven when facing him, and then at Argus, she was terrified. Well, let me clear one thing up: the situation was totally different, dude.

At Haven, she was surrounded by people she knew they would help her: Sun, her parents, damn, even team RWBY. She had a whole army supporting her (and even with Sun's help, she wasn't dumb and she knew better than trying to follow him, because she knew him and knew that that's what he wanted). So of course she was going to feel safer then than being totally alone with that guy who had been stalking her across the world like a total creep. Like, thank God Yang appeared and helped her.

Once again, these three are all together again since the Fall of Beacon. This guy, who maimed and traumatized Yang in a way she will most likely never completely get over (as a person with PTSD, I know it gets better, but it will never entirely go away). Blake's ex boyfriend. A person she trusted and loved, and turned out to be completely different than he made her believe.

Blake's done with running away from him. And she's done with being afraid, because she is. But even though she's afraid, I love how during the entire fight, he tried to get in her head but Blake didn't let him. Because she was done with that. He had abused her, tried to kill her and the people she loved, took her innocence and confidence, even stole her own legacy. And she's not letting him do that again. Not now, and nevermore.

Sorry, I had to.

Blake and Yang give him multiple opportunities to leave. He didn't. We know how that ended for him. And even after that, Blake feels terrible about having to take his life, and feels guilty about it, or felt like she'd ruined the whole “let's steal an airship” plan. But luckily, she had all of her friends reassuring her and being completely understanding and loving, and honestly, I'll say it a million times: that scene between Ruby, Blake and Yang is one of my favorites.

Volume 7

We don't see much Blake during volume 7, to be honest. Yes, we get that great moment with Weiss and Jacques (fuck you). We get to see how she really hasn't forgotten about the whole Adam thing, and how killing him was haunting her in a way. We got to see her and Yang being the ones who reached out for Robyn (people with brains who don't try to take her out and try to make her and the HH allies instead. THANK YOU). We got to see her and Yang kicking some ass in the RWBY vs Ace Ops fight. And of course, we get confirmation (we already knew, but some people are blind and needed more. Some people won't understand until they kiss) of Bumbleby going the romantic way. And I liked that.

But neither Blake nor Yang had much of an individual arc or important stuff to do last volume (and I really hope that changes in volume 8). That annoyed me. But at the same time, I remember that they hadn't had a break since vol 3; Blake had never had one, actually, because every volume found the way to emotionally fuck her up in some way. And after losing limbs, being stabbed, having to deal with terrorists, with bandits, with terrible moms, with abandonment issues, with PTSD and depression, with an abusive exboyfriend they even had to end up killing to survive... I was kind of fine with both of them getting an “easy” volume where they didn't have to deal with big emotional arcs like that, and were just chilling and enjoying themselves for a little while. Still, I want them to be more important, both as a couple and individually, next volume.

Conclussion

As I said, Blake is my favorite character. She is a very flawed person who learns about her flaws and works hard to be better. She is incredibly brave, by far, the bravest character in the series, who overcomes her fears and her abuse and moves forward. Blake's arc, besides taking back her legacy and fighting for equality, is about her finally understanding that she's not to blame for others' actions, that she isn't poison. She learns to finally stop running from her fears and her guilt, to stop pushing others away, and realize that she deserves a second chance, that deserves forgiveness and love and friendship, and to be happy. Blake's entire personal journey is about her finding her path, about overcoming her abuse and trauma, and about learning to love herself. And I love it. I love her.

#rwby #blake belladonna #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #ruby rose #bumbleby #sun wukong #kali belladonna #ghira belladonna #damn this is long #i just love blake so much #rwby analysis #blake analysis

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jinrawon · 3 years

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Your wish is my command.

Prince!Jinyoung x Fem!Reader.

Genre: Angst, fluff, idk , some fantasy as well.

Summary: When the crown prince, Park Jinyoung, breaks his engagement he is forced to have someone he did not expect as his knight. Displeased with the idea, deep down he knows he will need her by his side.

Words: 2k+

The first time he saw you you had a wooden sword in your hand and your big brother, and close friend of his, Jaebum had won you once again. He was 8 and you were 6 yet you seemed sure of what you wanted to be.

The Lim family had always been close to the royal family. Jaebeom and Jinyoung were best friends and it was almost expected that you married him however not only did you avoid him, you also became a knight just to prevent that from happening. Contrary to what you thought, that did not break the engagement. As your father worded it, “ We need Jaebeom and you to be close to him, otherwise our family will be nothing” . To say you were annoyed was an understatement. The Truth was that Jinyoung had never treated you badly, you barely knew each other so of course he had not. The last time you had talked to him was the first time he saw you. You never made an effort to get to know him but he knew he was supposed to marry you. Or so both of you thought until you somehow broke the engagement.

Your father was dissatisfied. You had studied to be the queen, the education was not the problem and neither your social status but the prince asked to break off the engagement and so did you. The queen and the king had no choice. Even if both of them wanted you to be the next queen, especially Jinyoung’s mother ,who was especially fond of you, they did not want to force you to.

On the other hand, your parents had other plans in mind for you.

“ Y/N, sweetie. “ Whenever your mother called you with that voice it was meant to go in a way you were not going to like. Her sweet smile and the worried gaze of your brother behind her made you clench your fists. “ Your father and I wish to have a talk with you. I take it you are not busy at this instant.”

“ What makes you think that, mother?” You were training with your sword. “ I am clearly busy. As a knight, I must perfect my technique. And as an answer to you I must say I am indeed busy. “

Even if you said that you knew that you did not have a choice so you followed your mother to the big living room of your family manor. Your brother seemed uneasy as you looked at him searching for some kind of hint of what was going on. Your father was sipping tea while he heard some random old man talk. It was not until you saw his face that you knew who he was. He was the only duke of the kingdom. An old man without a family, someone desperate to have an heir and it was rumored that he was looking for a young woman who could be the mother. The fact that he was there and the look on your brother’s face easily made known that your father wanted to sell you to him.

“ Ah, look who is here, “ Your father said. “ this is my lovely daughter who I was talking about. “

“ You have some nerve.” You were displeased and it was shown on your face.” I just broke my engagement to the prince, father. “

“ Y/N we have a guest. “ The look he gave you was not enough to scare you. You were a knight and he was a man you could easily take down on your own even if he was your father. “ You should act like a lady. “

“ Do you think I can’t break another engagement? “ You challenged him. “ I am not someone you can sell. “ You bowed and looked at the man before storming out of the room.

Jaebeom came after you. He was always worried when it came to things like that. He was the next head of the family therefore he always knew what his father had in mind. He was the first to try and stop your father whenever it came to marriage, he knew how much you hated it. Even if he cared and wanted to help you he couldn’t always. Perhaps that’s why you noticed his regret.

“ Where are you going, Y/N? “ He tried to stop you. Even if you were a knight you were still a human and a lady of an important family. Going alone was never wise. The fact that Jaebeom was the captain of the royal guard did not help. He was always told to protect you, first because you were his little sister and second because you would have been queen. He had been raised to protect the prince and you. “ Y/N , stop now, it’s an order. “

You did not care about his rank over you. He was your brother first and that made you a undisciplined knight.

“ Jaebeom, I said I am going. “ You looked at him. “ It’s not your fault so there’s no need to feel responsible over me. “

You were quick to go after grabbing a sword. He saw you leave with your horse without any other word.

It was late at night when you finally arrived to the palace. You left your horse on the stable and quickly went inside the palace. The knights were soon to notice who you were and bowed at you. The news that you and Jinyoung had broken off your engagement had yet to be spread and you could notice by how the guards treated you as the crown princess. You stated your business on the palace and one of the knights went away. He looked for the queen and when he returned you were told to go to the tea room.

When you arrived the queen welcomed you with a warm smile. If your father had seen you with your knight uniform in front of the mother of the kingdom you would have been doomed. Fortunately, he was not there to see you. The woman in front of you was gorgeous. The dress looked uncomfortable and yet she wore it with grace. You thought you could never imitate her. You had been raised to be queen and yet you were everything but one.

“ What brings you here, my dear? “ You sat in front of her. “ You clearly need help if you are here this late at night. Not only that but you just saw me yesterday. “

“ It is true that I am here in seek of help, your majesty. “ You bowed and apologized to her. “ But I am in a desperate situation and I believe I have the answer to resolve it. “

She saw how nervous you were. It was only her who could see you with such weakness and she wished it was otherwise. How adorable you looked to her, how she wished you would be queen when she stepped down from the throne.

“ Tell me dear, what may I do for you? “

“ I heard your majesty was looking for a knight who could protect the prince.” There was determination on your eyes. She looked at you and nodded to make sure she was listening. “ So I would like to suggest myself for the job. “

“ May I ask why? “ She was concerned about you. Your actions were confusing even for her who knew you since your childhood. “ You have always avoided Jinyoung , your marriage is not going to happen anymore because of that. I ask you to explain yourself so I can understand. “

“ Your majesty , I do not wish to marry his highness as you already know. “ Even if you had to, it would be better than marrying an old duke. “ But It is not because of his highness but because I do not wish to marry by force. When the engagement was broken my father did not doubt on selling me to the Duke. “

“ Oh dear. “

“ That is why if you could grant me the honor to protect his highness then I could make sure to devote myself to him but I could avoid marrying. “

It was well known that the personal knight of the queen or king often devoted themselves to them and only them but it was unheard of a woman avoiding marriage thanks to that. The queen thought about it. She could grant the wish to her but he had to talk with the king to make sure it was allowed.

“ Stay here for the night, sweetie. “ She suggested as she stood up. “ I will talk with the king on your behalf. If I am able to then I will grant you your wish. “

It was often that you spent the night in the royal palace, that is why you had your own chambers. It was also clear that the queen instructed them to be placed near the prince's chambers. She always tried to make you talk but both of you managed to avoid each other. That was until that night.

With your sleep gown on, you went to walk on the halls of the magnificents palace gardens. You could easily see thanks to the moonlight which seemed to be more intense than ever. While looking at the beautiful scenario you saw the prince, the guy you had avoided for years. For the first time you approached him.

“ Is it a good night, is it not, your highness? “ You sat next to him on the stairs that led to the garden itself. “ It is as if your mind is heavily bothered.”

“ I am deeply pissed at you. “ You were confused. “ You avoid me for more than ten years and suddenly decide to be my knight? What the hell Y/N? Did you hit your head? “

“ No need to be rude, your royal highness. “ You smiled. “ Is it that strange? I just don’t want to marry you. That’s why I avoided you. “

“ So now that you are no longer marrying me you decide to come to me and talk? “ You understood his confusion but he was the only one who could save you from being sold to someone who only wanted you to have his heir. “ If you asked me I would say you’ve lost your mind. “ You remembered the first time you met and how you did not know he was the boy you were engaged to. You both became friends, that was until you knew and avoided him without an explanation. He kept trying to talk to you for years until he was done with it. It was the first time he heard you talking to him. “ Not only that but now mother says you are my knight? “

You did not expect the prince to have such a temper when he was mad, he seemed so perfect that you thought he would have stayed quiet.

“ Wait, that means his majesty accepted me as your knight? “

It was the first time that you two were looking at each other’s eyes. It was the first time you looked at him without hesitating.

“ Shouldn’t I have a choice in this? “ He said. “ I don’t need you around me day and night. “

“ I don’t see the problem, it’s either me or Jaebeom. “

“ I don’t need a knight, “ He answered. “ I don’t need you so tell my mother that you don’t want the job, Y/N or I will make sure myself that you don’t get it. “

He stood up and soon he was gone. You were never the nicest to him, you were rude in fact. You always avoided him and whenever he helped you in any way you just nodded. You helped him if he asked but never talked to him which ended in him not wanting to ask anything to you at all. You knew you should have been fair to him, it was not his fault that your father used you as an item which he could sell at the best price. However, even if you could see all that there was something more important. Just as Jinyoung had broken off the engagement he could make you lose the job. In the end it was always his choice or his father’s. If he asked his father then you would lose it. You had to do something to prevent that from happening.

The next morning you woke up feeling lost. Perhaps if you hadn’t avoided Jiinyoung all that time he would have accepted you as his knight.

“ No,” You said to yourself hiding your head between your knees.” I would have married him. “

Thinking about the past was no use so you decided to dress and find the prince to talk to him about it. You were not going to get married, no matter what. On your mind you played all the possible answers he could give you. You were his best friend's little sister, he could not just abandon you. You sighed.

When you finally saw him he was in the library. He seemed to be looking for a book. The royal library was definitely bigger than the one you had in the manor and you always admired that but avoided it due to Jinyoung or your brother being at it. Now you could enter without worrying about the first one.

“ Which book is it? “ You stood close to him trying to look over his broad shoulders. “ Oh, I’ve read this one, I bought it with my first knight payment.”

“ What are you doing here? “ As a contrast to the night before he seemed calm. He looked at you without a hint of any emotion. “ If it is about the knight thing, forget it. “

“ Come with me, your highness. “

You grabbed his hand and went outside the library only to sit on the same stairs as the night before. The people who walked by saw you amazed. For them you were the crown princess and Jinyoung was the crown prince. For them you were a couple who loved each other.

“ I told you to forget it. “

“ I can’t.” Your lips were pressed into a thin line. “ I am asking you, please. It would benefit both of us. I need you and you need me. “ That was all you could say without mentioning the forced marriage that seemed more and more close.” I know it’s unfair, you have only treated me with kindness while I was a jerk but...”

“No. I don’t care what you have to say, Y/N. I will not have you as my knight.”

“ But I can protect you and with other knights you will not have as much freedom as with me, your highness! “

Of all the answers you had imagined this was not one. He was kind, you thought, he could never crash your hopes with a simple no. He would doubt, you believed, but he did not.

“ No and that is final. “

“ Please, Jinyoung I am asking yo-” Before you could say anything else someone had grabbed your arm and pulled you up. When you looked at the person and saw your brother you could not help but sigh. He was angry. No, he was furious. “ Jaebeom, what the hell, let go of my arm. “

“ Apologize to his highness. “ He said. “ You of all people can’t just call him by his name. “

“ What? “

Jinyoung looked at both of you and even considered telling Jaebeom to let you go after seeing your gaze. You were about to snap and he did not want to be there to see it but it was rather late.

“ Let me go. Now. “ You did not care about him being your big brother or someone with a higher rank than you. “ I said, let go. “ Seeing he had no intention of doing it you grabbed his arm and with all your strength you took him down. “ I don’t care about any of this freaking sh*t anymore. What do you mean me of all people? Am I that unworthy? “

When you walked away from there Jaebeom was surprised. You usually were more on the calm side but the latest days seemed as if you would be furious for everything.

" Sorry about that. " He murmured. " She is just being a child."

" Got to say is more interesting than her ignoring me. "

" Forgive her. She has the intelligence of a brick but she does not mean any harm. "

When Jaebeom saw you again you apologized. That did not make the situation less awkward. You were still mad at him but you knew he was just doing his job.

" You are embarassing yourself. " He said. " His knight? For real? You could not ask for anything else , Y/N? The knight of the man you were supposed to marry. To avoid marrying at that. "

Even if you knew it was his way of looking out for you you could not help but feel as if you were betrayed by your own brother.

" They have not given you the job anyways. "

You knew, the moment Jinyoung had said no you knew your fate was sealed. There was no hiding or running anymore. More than ten years avoiding it just for it to become true in the worst way possible.

“ I have no other choice but to accept marrying that man? “ Your gaze was on the floor and you would not dare to look at your brother.

“ Him or you could try and speak to Jinyoung. “

“ Right. “

And it was the first time Jaebeom saw his sister give up.

A/N: So this is the first chapter of this series which I hope you’ll like. I’ll try to be regular at updating but I can promise anything since my final exams are around the corner but yeah. Anyway, I hope you’ll like it and I hope I can portray Got7 well but sorry if they feel a bit OOC.

Here is the masterlist: Your wish is my command.

#got7 fluff #got7 angst #got7 jinyoung #got7 jb #got7 fanfic #jinyoung x you #jinyoung x reader #jinyoung fluff #jinyoung angst #prince jinyoung

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fafulous · 4 years

Text

Take Me Home (4/5)

Andy Barber x Reader (Post!Defending Jacob)

Summary: After the unfortunate events of the trial and after, a depressed Andy Barber decides to call it quits and start a mundane life far away from Newton. He decides it is best to have a fresh start away from prying eyes and alone, but he never thought his caring neighbor (and her son) would change all of that.

Chapter Warnings: MAJOR D.J. SPOILERS (BOOK Ending), Reminiscing the Loss of a loved one.

Andy soon came to realise that walking out on you was never ever really a solution. In reality he knew with his current state, without you he was doomed.

He needed you because he has no one. He needed you because it was his chance at something new; something no one would understand.

He needs you because in between all those shenanigans in these few months, he was falling hard for you.

But he did what he had to that day because he just wanted some space. In his head it seemed to be fine, but alas it hurt like a bitch.

On the other hand, Nikolai had no idea what was going on. It only took him minutes to fall in love with his new room. The lights, the colour of the room made him so jubilant, later on only to see you a bit unhappy. You were able to deflect from your son’s questions, but how on earth were you going to tell him that Andy won’t be meeting him anymore.

It hurt. So hard. All you needed was one conversation with him to settle things away but he wanted his space and so you half heartedly respected it.

Nikolai on the other hand was hitting a real low seeing you unhappy the whole day sporting stuffy red eyes. Like any other kid, Nikolai jumped to the conclusion that their mother is crying because she got a boo-boo or lost her favourite toy.

But that little brain of his pieced it slowly once he realised Andy never visited them for any of the dinner nights.

“Mommy pwese don’t cwy” his nimble fingers wiping your fat tears rolling down your cheek.

“I know peaches. I’m trying so hard to get Andy back okay. I’m sorry for crying around you like this baby.”

“B-but Wandi pwomised he neva gonna hurt you mommi…”

“Oh Niko,” you wiped the cookie crumbs around his tiny lips, “Your little brain won’t get it. It’s okay.”

“No. Not owkay. Wandi hurt you. Wandi bad. I don’t wike Wandi cahr now.”

You couldn’t help but surpass a giggle. “Niko. Andy is never bad. Never. He is just feeling sad and lonely. We just need to tell him we have him and love him okay?”

Love? Too soon. Maybe it’s more than like but it was too late to change it for your son and for yourself. You always saw how Niko’s eyes sparkled whenever Andy was around; he was soon accepting him to be a member of the household.

“Owkay,” he dug his head to your neck, “I wike Wandi and his cahr.”

–

The following week were hard for you and him. From sharing couches to kisses, now the only thing you both shared were small talks.

Yes. Small Talk. Or texts rather.

Andy told you he finally found a therapist to speak to and slowly expressed his wish to still visit Nikolai till you both figured out what was happening between you two.

Why did this have to get so complicated?

You on the other hand replied he was free to do so because to be real, the little kid missed him too. So, the next day he asked you for permission if he could take Nikolai on a car drive.

You had no idea what would go on in his head at times. From seeing Andy’s perspective, he was denied of the choice of telling you his story. It was his fucked-up childhood, his story that he wanted to tell you. Not a pity tatter-tale gossip story that was to be heard from your characterless, ex-husband.

Andy later in the evening sent a message that he was ready, and you saw the man your heart so longed for.

His eyes were back to being sunken, those blue irises not having the guts to meet yours. His hair was ruffled like he just woke up from a nap. Looking at him made you realise how much your hands were twitching to just hug him. You were reminded of the first night you spent at his house; that blue sweater he gave you while you two made out on his couch for the first time was now worn by him.

You walked towards him as you held Nikolai’s convertible baby seat to be fixed in his car and he was kind enough to open the door for you.

Andy on the other hand knew he had to- no, wanted to strike a conversation with you; but didn’t know what to say.

Hey long time huh?

Y/N. Hey, how are you?

Hey listen…

Nope nothing came out of his mouth while you fixed the seat.

He took in your appearance too; that ray of sunshine that beamed from your smile was non-existent; replaced with a forlorn look that he hated to see on you. The past few days were definitely much harsher on you than it was for him. Andy knew he couldn’t get any more foolish. He had to get back to what you two had before.

He needed it.

“Have we gone back to square one? Because of what? My ex-husband?”

Andy came out of his tiny reverie and focussed back on you. He didn’t pay attention, but he did realise you said something bitter that meant to sting him.

“Honey listen-”

“Oh, don’t you honey me Andy. How could you? How could you be so- so-“ you tried so hard to not break into a stream of tears.

How could you be so hateful to yourself Andy? Did you not trust me?

“How could you just desert me like that? D-did you think I was going to throw away my second chance at life for something you father did? Did you want to throw away your second chance at life because of your father who has no role in our lives right now?”

He sighed dejectedly, disappointed with himself. Hearing your voice break wrecked him, “I know Y/N. I was an asshole that day, leaving you without an explanation.” He found himself taking steps towards you and cupping your cheek, tilting his forehead onto yours, “I am so sorry hon- Y/N. I am sorry.”

You bit your lip and looked up at him, his eyes still closed; now content that he and you could just touch each other after a very long time.

Any other situation, you wouldn’t let a man walkover you so easily after fucking up. But this was Andy. The man who made you believe in second chances. You gave him a first chance already, and now it was again your turn to give him one more.

“You weren’t an asshole Andy,” you held on to his hands, “Its just, I don’t know…”

“I know you know exactly what you want to say Y/N. Just say it.”

You could hear Nikolai running around his circles with his unicorn plush doll behind you, “I was angry when you left, but at the same time I tried to understand your point of view, your emotions and your feelings about this whole situation. But I think or- or I know that I didn’t deserve to be ghosted like that Andy, because I liked you for you, not what your father did, especially when we had something so good going on.”

He removed his hand from your cheeks and looked down like a disappointed child. He knew he was at fault and so he didn’t say anything; head hung in shame looking at the little, carefree boy that he loved so dearly.

“It’s only had if you want it to be,”

“What do you mean?”

You saw a glint of that eagerness that Andy always had with you before, “I told that we had something good going on? It’s only had if you want it to be…“

Andy took some time to find his words. Again. It was the second time he fucked up so bad and here you were, taking him back even after he exploded like a mine. Was this woman for real?

“Of course, I want this honey. I always want us. You’re always so good to me.”

He reached out to graze your cheeks, but he was blocked by your squealing son.

“Cahr Wandi! Can we gooo?”

You were surprised that you weren’t interrupted by your son sooner, but nevertheless your son’s new founded patience was found to be a blessing in disguise.

The cutest sight unfurled before you as Andy made grabby hands at your son, only for the latter to be scooped into Andy’s arms like a cocoon.

“Come on Y/N, join us wont you? For a drive?”

You shook your head, “I think I’ll pass.”

“Y/N. I want to really make it up to you. Like real time. Please come with us?”

“I know Andy, but who will make dinner if I come along with you boys?”

Andy slowly grinned at your implications. He never ceased to be impressed by your gracious generosity and the small acts of kindness.

“I’m not mad, not as much as I was before I promise,” you dared to but tiptoed to place a kiss on his cheek, “We can talk over dinner today.” You saw how his cheek sported a cherry red tint, slowly creeping up till his ear. A teenager in a old man’s body.

“Peaches,” you turned to your son right now jumped into Andy’s arms, nuzzling his face in that soft sweater, “Be good and behave okay peaches? Don’t trouble Wandi- I mean Andy for anything on the way okay?”

Everything drowned inside a chorus of laughter when Andy realised how you had called his name. Niko had no idea what the humour was for but joined the chorus when he found his two most favourite people in the world giggling.

Were you forgoing all that pent-up sadness that this man gave you this week? Yes. Yes you were.

And you would soon realise that it was the best decision you made.

Hours passed by and the boys came back home. Nikolai was gleefully pulling onto Andy’s beard and curiously asking him when he was going to get a ‘bweard’ like him and heard both the boys animatedly inhaling; the smell of aromatic food that stirring their tummies.

“MOMMY IS MAKING PAWSTAHH!”

Andy was so confused. You always made the best Italian food for your child.

“Let’s just say after that episode we had with Chad, I was cooking boring greens and ordering takeout for the little one and me. I lost the will to cook. Thought I’ll revive the poor kid’s taste buds.”

It was always these small gestures that pulled you towards Andy; like this one. He tugged you by your shoulders and placed a soft kiss on your forehead and then cupped your cheeks so lovingly.

“Sorry Momma bear.”

“Shhh. It’s okay grumpy cat,” you winked.

Dinner on the other hand did go relatively smooth than you expected it to. Andy explained himself, his feelings and what he felt that day when he left you and tried his level best to process your emotional state that day.

The baked pasta was licked clean by your two boys and you while Andy also spoke about his past few days with his therapist, who seemed to help him more than he possibly could ever think of. Over a glass of wine, Andy held your hand promising you that he wouldn’t do any more foolish stunts that ended up hurting all of us in the process.

But as you and Andy were doing and drying the dishes, you felt that he was holding back something.

“You’re doing that thing.”

“What thing.”

“That thing you used to do when I used to pick movies that you don’t like.”

His grin could make your whole body mushy and soft like a teenager having their first crush “So? Is that my fault honey?” he feigned hurt, glad that he could now call you back with his favourite sweet name.

“Nah,” you playfully tapped his shoulder. “You give me that look so prominently so that I understand that you want something from me, or you want me to do something for you.”

Andy looked so lost and you knew something was biting his thoughts because he enjoyed doing domestic chores with you; his favourite being you washing the dishes and him drying them out and keeping them inside the cupboards. He didn’t reply until the last wine glass was kept inside the cabinet

“It’s just-” hesitated Andy. You waited patiently for him to find his words.

“It’s about Jacob.”

“Oh.”

For a startling few seconds, you held your breath; thinking about Andy’s son was something wrecked your thoughts and heart every single time.

“My therapist says that I haven’t, you know, fully processed Jacob’s death. Like I’m holding on to something. But parents don’t, right? They can’t move on from their child’s death right? It’s practically impossible.”

You weren’t sure what to say but you nodded, gripping on to his arm and gesturing to sit with you to the couch where little Niko dozed off with two of his stuffed dolls clenched in his hand.

“But she did say one statement that made sense to me, I don’t know. It made sense about how we can’t forget our children who are no longer with us but we can learn to accept the fact that they are no longer with us.”

Oh bub, how much have you been through? “Do you agree with this Andy?” You asked him to keep yourself strong during this conversation for him, and you did.

“Of course, yeah. Maybe. But the thing is I think I haven’t accepted it honey.”

You took both of his hands and squeezed reassuringly, “I have no idea what you are going through bub but I’m glad you are talking to me about this. Take your time; its going to be hard, but I’m right here okay? Whatever you need, I’ll do within my best ability.”

He hummed, but still hesitant.

“Andy its okay, tell me. Talk to me bub.”

He squeezed your palms even more tightly, turning towards you completely. “C-can I ask you a favour? I mean you can say no, I will understand.”

I’m ready to give you all the happiness in the world to you bubba. “Anything for you Andy? Tell me now.”

He didn’t meet your gaze, but instead shifting his focus to trace your knuckles, “My therapist told me to visit Jacob’s grave whenever I was ready, to mourn him, to accept he is no longer with me and you know…talk to him I guess. To process my emotions. And um…Oh god I am a bubbling mess Y/N.”

“Hey its okay baby take your time. There is no pressure.”

“I can’t do this alone honey…I need you there with me. Can you come with me to the graveyard?”

How could you ever say no to this solemn situation?

“Of course, honey. Absolutely anything you need.”

And what seemed like after ages, Andy Barber enveloped you into his signature bear hug. Both of you left a huge sigh of breath, relief washing over that both of you were slowly getting back on track.

Until you heard a rugged whimpers from the little boy beside Andy.

You didn’t want to tell Andy about this, but Nikolai’s nightmares were back and the little boy was finding it difficult to sleep at night. The new nursery still did not work for him, so he ended up sleeping on top of your chest; your heartbeat probably soothing him to sleep.

But Andy the experienced father he was, quickly scooped him into his arms and started cradling him, rocking him side by side with his arms protecting him, humming a familiar soft tune that seemed to calm you in the process too. You saw how Niko’s head was cushioned between Andy’s pecs and muscles, slowly relaxing and nuzzling into his touch.

Niko’s scrunched up face was now back to a peaceful baby lost in slumber.

Andy met your gaze and blinked at you with a smile and it conveyed so much than you think.

We got this baby. We all gonna get through this.

–

The decision to take Nikolai along with you and Andy was refuted by the latter saying that a young boy like him shouldn’t be visiting such desolate place.

“Children are the embodiment of new birth, new life. And graveyards, quite opposite.”

But you knew secretly he also didn’t was your son to see him in such a vulnerable position. You were grateful for the fact that the rough patch between you and Andy was solved; for the little boy saw Andy as his new father figure with Chad gone away with a new girlfriend.

Talking about Chad, he did not make efforts to meet his son; and you didn’t bother contacting him. Better off without him you wondered.

The drive to Jacob’s grave was a couple of hours away and ride in itself was a quiet one. Andy and you were informally dressed in dull colours, hearts dull too. You knew it was a big step for Andy and you were going to support him till he thinks he is over it. Car windows were rolled down, the fresh air making efforts to refresh you both.

You could also see Andy’s urge to interlink his hands with you while your drove and you did; Gripping onto his palm or occasionally rubbing his shoulders or thighs throughout the ride would help him calm down and relax his creased forehead.

When you both got down from the car it was so hard to read Andy’s thoughts. He came over to you and interlinked your palms and made way to the place where his son was buried.

Jacob’s grave was flowerless when arrived. Andy soon fixed that after leaving a wreath of Jacob’s most favourite flowers, daisies.

A graveyard, a place of death, sprouting trees filled with life here and there. The irony of life.

You didn’t know the boy but the aura of the graveyard, the impersonal feeling towards the dead even though you have no idea who they were beneath the stones made you heart sink. It then came to your senses.

The boy was just fourteen.

Both of you sat down near his grave, not caring about the grass and mud staining your clothes. He finally took away his palms from yours.

Andy spoke some kind words, rekindling memories of his son’s favourite pastime, his favourite stories and one of his embarrassing yet kind-hearted moments. He sought an apology on behalf of his mother, trying to make Jacob understand that his mother loved him so much, that it unfortunately ended tragically.

Another thought popped into your head, how couples these days separate over trivial matters, over materialistic matters, and infidelity. But Andy? He separated because his wife- No no. You didn’t want to complete that thought.

But after a while passed and you decided give Andy some needed space. He was probably going to be anxious, but it was for the best.

“Andy, you feel a bit better?” you whispered.

“You can say probably.”

Here we go. “I’m going to leave you two alone okay?”

“What? Honey. If I can’t-”

“You can Andy. He is your son, remember that. So, don’t hold back. I know you wanted me to be here with you and I did and I’m so proud of you, bubba,” you stroked his hair. “But unintentionally you may be holding back on expressing because I’m here and that’s normal.”

Why are you so good to me?

“I’m just going to be near the parking lot okay? I’m not going anywhere,” you reassured him with a peck on his cheek and made your way back.

You shed your tears while you sat inside his car, thinking about the little boy. It was difficult thinking of losing a loved one that you gave birth to. He was too young. Too fucking young.

Oh, this cruel world, how you hated it so immensely right now.

Half hour passed by and you saw Andy making his way towards the car. It was so strange to think of this, but he didn’t look red eye rimmed like you; he looked the same with much more solemnity. He didn’t cry and that slightly bothered you. Maybe you had to accept the fact that different people process emotions differently.

He got into the car and took in your red eyes. He knew you had cried. Seeing you like that made his pull your lips onto his for just a chaste kiss, the first time you two felt each other’s lips after an eon. All he breathed into your lips was that we are going to be okay and drove back home with no word exchanged. For the upcoming hours, the fresh air offered you comfort, drying out those spilt tears along with the lingering touch of his palms; interlinked like their souls.

After coming back, you took advantage of Andy’s silence and maneuvered him to your home. He seated himself on the couch pulling out his phone and wallet from his pants and placed it on the coffee table.; trying to steal a quick nap while you picked up Nikolai from your neighbour Mr. Arthur.

Andy sleeping gave you an immense sense of peace, but for the little boy in your hands; not so much.

“WANDI!!!!”

He groggily woke up thanks to Nikolai running towards him, lying on his chest like he does with you. “Hey buddy.”

“You home yaay!” Probably meant that he was excited to see the man in house like the usual dinner nights. Nikolai calling him and telling he was home pricked him and at the same time felt so right. As cliché as it sounds, he always has heard this quote where Home is never a place with four walls to cover your head; home is where the heart is.

His heart was with you and Nikolai.

After eating Andy, and you began to do your dish washing routine, this time he washing the dishes. He was slow, but that was alright, you had all the time in the world.

Niko on the other hand was singing all the rhymes he learnt from daycare in different pitches, earning a chuckle from the both of you here and there. He was also carelessly playing with Andy’s phone and wallet, both of you seeing that the little boy had dropped all the contents of the wallet on to the floor. Once they were done Andy picked up the falling things patiently without chiding the little one like any other adult would.

He picked up his Dollar bills, receipts and then a forgotten thin strip of a photo roll.

It was him and Jacob.

The roll had four pictures of him and his son posing for the silliest pictures, the first three with their tongues sticking out in the goofiest angle possible. The last one however was so pure; Andy giving a forehead kiss to Jacob because he was so proud of his son, remembering he had bagged the highest grade in English that term in school.

Minutes pass and he didn’t notice his waterworks brimming. A blink and they would fall down.

And they did, when he heard Nikolai nudging him by the thigh. “Why you cwyin Wandi?”

That startled you enough to stop whatever it was you were doing and went to see what was happening.

Oh bubba.

You sat near Andy, touching his thigh for comfort while your son got closer to the photo that was in Andy’s slightly quaking hands.

“Who that Wandi?”

“Th-thats my son buddy. His name was Jacob.”

“Can he play with me Wandi?”

Everything just pricked. The boy’s innocent questions and Andy’s realisation of his emotions. This was too much to bear.

“No buddy he can’t-“

A hand around his shoulder, it was you. When he looked up his eyes were blurry from the tears that were falling. He was so upset he didn’t even realise you were next to him. It was you. Only you.

It was then you realised it finally that it hit Andrew that his son was dead.

“You don’t have to answer that Andy. He’s just a kid. It’s okay.”

The little one feeling that he had said something wrong hugged his arms with his little arms. “I’m sowwy Wandi. Don’t cwy.”

“I’m not buddy, I-I’m not.” He reassured the kid, and falsely assuring himself too.

“Wandi, I’m feelin sleepy…” “Yeah, let’s get you to bed buddy,” he cooed with his quivering voice.

“Andy I’ll take him-” But he refused to and took the child. You took a few minutes to pull yourself together after witnessing Andy so vulnerable. Even in these moments, he took care of your son. When you reached the nursery, Andy was whispering a lullaby to a dozed off Niko for a good ten minutes. He even spoke to the little boy, telling him that the measly Audi car painting he did in the room was going to protect him and his nightmares; and the boy believed because Andy said so.

Few minutes later and Andy didn’t refuse to hold back.

“I held Jacob like Nikolai, put him to sleep like Nikolai. My sweet precious baby, my innocent child Jacob. He didn’t do anything and he is away from me Y/N. Far far away-”

Andy let out a loud whimpering cry, the sound swallowed when he buried his head into your neck and your tears began streaming, him sobbing uncontrollably the next minute.

Andy and your tears began streaming; you pulled yourself together soon but Andy? He was weeping uncontrollably. You only could take him in your arms and offer him comfort. No words could heal his wounds instantly. He buried his face into your neck, his safe place, which made you remember the initial days with Andy when he lent a shoulder when you cried. Now it was your turn.

You whispered in ears how it was best not to do this near Niko and maneuvered Andy to your room. He held onto your arms as you took him to your room. You urged Andy to talk to you if the visit to the grave was still bothering him. He sought recluse in your safe place again, lying down on the bed, head tucked in your neck.

“Andy you can tell me anything. I promise it won’t affect whatever is between us.”

It was too twisted, he was distraught. He ranted about Laurie and how she unravelled into killing her own son. He slipped some details of how Laurie always kept bringing up past incidents of his son to prove that Jacob was the possible killer. He kept blaming himself that he was too weary with Laurie and that he should’ve seen her actions. Your whole body pricked; he was crying as he said all this.

You couldn’t imagine Nikolai and yourself in that situation. It brought tears to you eyes but wiped them off before he could see it. You let him talk as much as he wanted to, calming and soothing Andy in the process, running your fingers through his hair gently. You comforted him as much as you could and kept reminding yourself that this was the first time he came to his senses and realised he was crying out for his dead son; and so you were patient.

“My own wife murdered him Y/N. My Jacob. If I had been more attentive”

“Shhhhh Andy,” you cooed into his ear “Your circumstances were horrible. Don’t blame yourself bubba, none of this was your fault okay? Jacob’s death was out of your hands, it was an unfortunate accident Andy.“

Andy could stay all day in your embrace, his head on your gentle shoulders while your soft hair caresses made him doze off to sleep.

But his head felt like it was going to explode and he couldn’t let you see that.

“I’m going back home honey. I think I need to be alone tonight. I- I am not abandoning you okay, I promise, I’ll be okay tomorrow.”

“Andy are you sure? Stay with me, I don’t want to leave you alone.”

“I- I think I need to be alone for sometime you know? Please don’t be upset.”

“I’m never ever upset okay? As long as you are sure bubba; whatever you think is best for you okay? This house is always open to you.”

Kisses on the cheek were exchanged before he left your home. But you stayed awake, in the hopes he’ll be back because deep down you knew, he needed you.

You would give him space, and why not?

He was your home.

–

Andy soon realised he couldn’t. Staying alone was the worst decision he made.

Yes he did get the desired space he absolutely needed for like an hour and he did try to cease his crying, but his heart, oh his heart was pounding like nobody’s business. Anxious. Alone. Not cared for.

The walls of his room closed around him, his breathing becoming rugged, the laughter of his dead son echoing in his head. But he remembered he was cared for. By you. He had only you now.

He wanted, needed your soothing embraces, your kind words, your optimism, your affection. Everything.

He just wanted you now.

He had to forget. It was a bit past midnight, but it was you. His reliable rock; soon to become the love of his life. He had to forget what he was going though and in a moment of desperation, he texted you. His thought was confirmed, you would always be there for him.

—

Last and Final Part 5 on its way :)

#Defending Jacob #Andy Barber #Andy Barber Imagine #Chris Evans Imagine #Chris Evans #Andy Barber x reader #Chris Evans x reader #Andy Barber Smut #Chris Evans Imagines

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jesuiscalmedammit · 3 years

Text

In The Dark – (1) Pilot chapter || [Din Djarin x reader]

“What are you doing down here?”

Letting out an annoyed groan, you put your hands on your hips and turned around to look at your host. “Looking for some clothes that aren’t soaking in my blood.”

You expected him to tell you where to find something to wear but he didn’t move. At all. Knowing him, not talking wasn’t surprising, but being this still was quite alarming. Had you crossed a line by going through his things? Well, it surely wasn’t polite but you were really just looking for clothes. Under different circumstances, he probably wouldn’t have a problem with that, but this was a special situation and you didn’t know when he would figure out the truth about you. Until then you were just a stranger to him.

When you saw his head move a little, indicating that he took a good look at your body, you finally realized what was wrong: you were in your underwear. Not seeing his face made it difficult to figure out what he was thinking about. Was he embarrassed? Shy? Confused? Or was his mind full of dirty thoughts? You hated being in the dark. You were used to it, but it didn’t mean you were comfortable with it. And then more silence followed and you began to feel anxious out of the blue. Would you finally say something?

“I should take a look at your wounds. I have a feeling you couldn’t really reach the one on your back,” he suddenly said.

Even though his voice wasn’t perfectly clear because of the helmet, you could still tell it was neutral. The fact you were almost naked apparently didn’t bother him. That was good. He clearly wasn’t planning to take advantage of the situation, although you had never really assumed he was that kind of man to begin with. Why it didn’t bother him, though, was a mystery, and for a moment you began to think about the possible reasons. Was he that experienced? Or was he just absolutely not interested in this kind of stuff?

In the end, you scratched the back of your neck to avert your thoughts. “Thanks, that would be great.” Nodding, he left for a short while to find what he needed to help then pointed at a big metal box. Once you sat down, he pulled something to sit on behind you and you heard him pack out the equipment. “Did you leave the little guy up there?”

“Yeah, but he’ll be fine.”

“You sure?” you asked as you pointed at the small creature who stood almost right in front of you. “He looks pretty interested in what we’re doing down here.”

An exasperated sigh escaped his lips before he moved to pick up the kid and put him somewhere he could keep an eye on him. “Stay here, okay?” he said before walking back to you. “Why do I have a feeling he’s gonna be a handful?”

“He’s still a child, that’s what they’re the best at.”

“I guess this means you have experience with them.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the thought of this. “Oh, no, I usually try to avoid them,” you clarified.

The silence that followed your words made it quite obvious he was giving you a strange look under that shiny helmet of his. But once he cleared his throat, he returned to his previous spot behind you and you soon felt his gloved finger tracing your skin as he tried to figure out which bloodstain was covering an actual wound on your back.

Then he suddenly stopped, you felt another finger on your skin, and he said, “This wound is really nasty so I’ll have to clean and stitch it.” You nodded and waited while he picked up whatever he needed to do that. “Since it’s pretty deep, the cleaning part will hurt, but try to stay still, okay?”

When he put his palm on your stomach, you knew he only did it because he wanted to make sure you didn’t move around much from the stinging pain that awaited you. Despite knowing this, your body reacted without your brain’s consent and you let out a quiet hiss as you tried to move your upper body away from him.

“I’m sorry, I–”

“No, it’s the vambrace,” you told him quickly, hoping he would understand that your reaction didn’t mean you found this inappropriate in any way. “It’s pretty cold, for some reason I wasn’t expecting it.”

“Oh.” You heard him stand up so you turned around to see what he was doing. Apparently, he decided to wrap the metal piece into some cloth he found and you were honestly grateful for him being this thoughtful. Others would have probably told you to stop whining. The next time he touched you, you didn’t even feel the cold metal anymore. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Great. You ready?”

Your pain threshold was high and you were used to pain, but this… This stinging feeling was the worst part of treating open wounds. Though you cursed under your breath and instinctively tried to get out of his hold, Mando held you firmly enough to keep you relatively still. Seconds felt like hours, and you were only snapped out of your thoughts by his soothing voice.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay. Just try to take deep breaths. I’ll quickly stitch and bandage it then we’re done,” he said, waiting for you to nod before doing anything else.

The rest of the treatment was bearable and you didn’t move around that much anymore. When he finished, you turned around to be face-to-face with him. “Thank you. For everything,” you told him with a smile.

“Well, you helped us escape and they blew up your ship because of this so that’s the least I could do.”

Oh, your ship. Being around Mando again made you forget about that tiny little detail. Which wasn’t exactly tiny considering you had to travel somehow. You couldn’t just settle down at some randomly chosen place. But you had time to worry about that later, this is why you decided to learn about his plans first. “Where are you going now?”

“I don’t really know yet,” he began with a sigh as he looked over at the kid. “I guess somewhere remote because we need to lie low for a while. Hopefully, they’ll stop searching for us soon.”

These guys stopping soon? Everybody was looking for this child, and the bounty on its head was high enough to keep them interested until the end. But you didn’t want to make him feel bad now so you decided to keep your opinion to yourself. A part of you was sure he had already known that, though, because he was everything but an idiot.

“Is something wrong?”

“Oh, no, I'm sorry,” you said as you looked back at him. “I just got lost in my thoughts for a moment.”

A low, humming sound left his throat. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It's just…” How could you tell him? He wasn’t about to figure it out on his own so you had to tell him the truth. But it was hard. Then again, you wanted a normal conversation which meant he had to know. Once you let out a long sigh, you decided to get it over with. “I didn't know the voice modulator in my helmet worked so well that you wouldn’t recognize my voice without it.”

“What are you talking about?”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “We've known each other for a long time, Mando. I like to think of you as my only friend in the Tribe.”

This was the moment when he finally understood what was going on. When silence fell between you again, it wasn’t the same as before. You weren’t uncertain about what he was thinking about, you knew it perfectly well. And as you waited for him to say something, you couldn’t hide your wide, happy grin.

“Is it really you?” he asked cautiously. When you nodded, he stood up and began pacing in front of you. “But how? They all died.”

“I wasn’t there when it happened. By the time I returned, they were already gone. That's the only reason why I helped the two of you because I knew it was you, Mando.”

“Where’s your armor?”

It was a perfectly understandable question, after all, you hadn’t been wearing it when you met again. “It was on my ship but it doesn't matter anymore. I'm done with that life. I don’t need reminders of the past,” you informed him once your smile disappeared from your lips.

“Why?” Since you didn’t know how to answer, you shrugged. “So what, you want to settle down now?”

“I don’t know. Maybe.”

Once again you wished you could see his face under the helmet. But he was so loyal to the Tribe’s rules that you knew he wouldn’t take it off in someone else’s presence. So what could he be thinking? Was he happy? Was he mad at you? Could he hate you for not telling him sooner? Did he despise you for leaving your armor behind? And why was he so silent? Just say something. Anything!

“I still can’t believe it’s you,” he said quietly, finally breaking the silence.

Tilting your head to the side, you glanced over at the child who was still watching the two of you. “And I can’t believe you became a single dad.”

“I’m no–” He fell silent when he followed your gaze and looked at the little guy. “Maybe you’re right.”

“Do you what’s the best thing about this beskar armor of yours? I saw the pile of armors and immediately knew you were probably still alive,” you admitted out of nowhere.

“I saw the pile and thought you were dead,” he replied without hesitation and you could’ve sworn he sounded sad and maybe even a little relieved. He took a deep breath then went on. “I kind of understand why you want to leave that life behind. With all those rules we follow it’s… easy to become jealous of average people and their simple lives.”

“It’s not just that. Having to wear that helmet all the time makes it hard to do certain things.”

He thought about what you said but didn’t ask what you meant right away. But when he realized you weren’t about to elaborate on your own, he asked, “Did you fall in love with someone?”

“It’s not–It’s complicated,” you said, trying really hard not to tell him the truth. You wanted to be honest, but definitely not this honest. You had been in love with someone way before this tragedy happened, although he didn’t have to know that.

“All right, I won’t ask,” he said eventually. “Look, I have something for the pain, but it will probably knock you out. Do you want some?”

Sleeping sounded nice. This conversation turned pretty awkward pretty fast, but this way you would have some time to come up with a believable explanation. And you could also figure out what to do next. You didn’t have a ship. You had nowhere to go. It wasn’t an easy situation. “Yeah, that would be great.”

note: i don’t know if i’ll continue this one or not, we’ll see. i just... had this idea and couldn’t get it out of my head. also, i haven’t started s2 yet because i want to binge-watch s1 and s2 together. so yeah, don’t think much about the timeline. || feedback is always appreciated. || sorry for the possible typos, errors etc.

#din djarin #din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #the mandalorian #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian imagine

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