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streetlight11 · 3 years

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Her Promise

Summary: It wasn’t a secret that you have disliked Sangyeon since you were in diapers. He was your mother’s best friend’s son. Though he was born just 27 days after you, it seems like he was a lot older than you in terms of his maturity. You don’t understand why the bad blood between you two. Until one day, you had been arranged for a marriage with him so suddenly.

Theme: arranged marriage au, enemies to lovers

Genre: angst, sad, fluff

Warnings: mentions of leukaemia, death, alcohol, swearing

WC: 10k

Pairing: Lee Sangyeon x Fem!Reader

a/n: Hello! This plot just randomly came to mind. It's kind of sad and a little angsty but you'll get through reading it. I promise! also, the words in italics is a flashback :)

Your family has been a close family friend to the Lee’s family and that was because your mother and Mrs Lee were best friends since high school. Also the reason why you were only 27 days older than Mr and Mrs Lee’s only son. However, not everyone has a happy friendship. In this case, it was you and the said son. His name was Lee Sangyeon and it was pretty obvious that you two could never get along since you were in diapers.

Despite your mothers being best friends and have been for the past 30 years, give or take. It’s no wonder that when they were pregnant with the both of you, they kept fighting with each other over small silly things when they barely got past even the slightest of arguments throughout their friendship.

And yet, it seems like luck was never on your side to begin with because throughout your whole education life up till today, he always ends up in your school or at least the school that you chose specifically hoping to be as far from him as possible.

It always baffles you how he would be the first person you spot amongst the crowd during the first day of school.

Did he do all these on purpose?

Why would he go to this extent just to annoy you if you both hated each other?

Maybe he didn’t in fact do this on purpose, but still, what are the odds that you end up in the same campus amongst the hundreds of schools available? That was a mystery you never plan on solving.

It was a bright Tuesday afternoon, students were scattered all over the large campus of Hangang University. You had just parked your car in a free space, exiting your vehicle before proceeding to lock it and walk towards the Computer Science building. You were halfway through the parking lot when someone suddenly swung an arm over your shoulder.

“Good morning my favourite person in the world!” Lisa giggled to your left as Rosie appeared on your right with her usual beaming smile that could melt hearts with just a glance.

“Hey girls, you’re early” You asked with a soft chuckle knowing Lisa was always late for class.

“Yeah, I wanted to leave my apartment now like I always do but Rosie begged me to drive her today because her baby is in the workshop.” Lisa huffs, only for the blonde girl on your right to defend herself.

“Hey, at least we got here on time. You’re welcome.”

With that, Lisa stuck out her tongue at Rosie, earning a laugh from you. The three of you continued to walk to the CS building, only to find Jennie and Jisoo chatting by the lockers while Jennie scavenged through her locker.

“Ew, is it just me or is the barbeque chicken a little dry today?” Jisoo scowls as she drops the chicken leg back onto her plate.

“No, I agree. It’s foul.” Lisa’s face contorts in disgust before you speak up.

“Do you guys want my salmon instead? I'm kind of full already.” You said, only to find them staring at you in concern. They began asking you if you were feeling okay and if you needed any medication of any sorts. To which you shook your head and just told them you were already full from the breakfast your mother made for you before she left for work with your dad.

Lisa and Jisoo ended up sharing your salmon piece, making you smile. At least your food wouldn’t be wasted, you thought.

A few hours later, your classes for the day were finally over. All you know is that your bed has been waiting for your arrival since the minute you left for school. You left class slightly later, telling the girls you had something to discuss with your lecturer regarding the assignment.

You told them to just head home first and not wait for you.

Almost 20 minutes later, you finally left the lecture room to head towards the parking lot where you had parked your car earlier. Your mind was clouded with the assignment requirements as you scrolled through the soft copy of the assignment through your email, too caught up in your thoughts to notice the group of boys walking down the hall.

That wasn’t until your shoulder roughly collided against someone’s back. It sent your whole body to stumble back from the impact. You were about to apologize when you heard a snicker coming from whoever it was.

So you glanced up and lord behold, it was just the person you were looking for…

Not really.

“Can you pay attention to where you walk? It’s not that hard to use your eyes.” Sangyeon’s voice was monotonous yet a pitch higher than others, just like his ego.

“That’s because you’re in my way, Lee.” You said sarcastically as you walked past him, not forgetting to purposely bump into his arm. He let out a scoff under his breath, fiery glare burning a prominent hole into the back of your head.

God, you can be such a pain in the ass sometimes. Him included.

A few days later, it was finally a Friday. You heard words going around campus saying that one of the seniors in the school’s football team was having a frat party at his place tonight. He invited everyone in the football team, and people that he knew. Turns out he also told his teammates to bring whoever they wanted whether he knows them or not.

Lucky for you (or maybe not), Rosie’s boyfriend happens to be one of the football players. If you remember correctly, his name is Yunhyeong.

And so you already know where this is going.

Hence, the reason why you were now standing right outside the house where the party was held.

No doubt the house was a beautiful landed property at the hills that overlooked the city, it still didn’t give you complete comfort knowing that you would be surrounded by drunk young adults who have no care in the world once the alcohol takes over their system.

Sure you sometimes go to these parties but you weren’t really that type of girl. It’s always an unpleasant surprise to others who aren't your girls, when you decline their offers of alcohol saying you don’t drink.

Though there were instances where you’d have some people still insisting on giving you a drink, you rejected them firmly whether they liked it or not.

And today was no different.

One moment, you were talking to your friends. Another moment, and you were suddenly left alone by the kitchen island. Isolating yourself from the countless intoxicated bodies, dancing freely without a single care in the world.

It suddenly dawned on you that you were indeed alone, with no other individual that you recognize in that huge house. Your friends were scattered around the main living area, each of them either with their significant other or just randomly hooking up with someone. Using alcohol as an excuse to be brave and approach someone at a party like this.

You sighed, reaching into your back pocket to fish for your phone. You were so close to texting them you wanted to head home first, when a deep voice broke your little bubble of thoughts.

“Hey… Y/N right?” The handsome boy asked as he smiled down at you softly.

He clearly didn’t seem too drunk, nor was he completely sober like you.

“Yeah… you are?” You asked, hoping you didn’t sound like a bitch.

“I’m Changkyun. I see your friends have left you so I thought maybe you’d want some company?”

Well, at least he’s being considerate enough.

“About that… I was actually about to-” As you were talking, your eyes were searching the room for at least one of the girls. But instead, your gaze was locked on a specific individual who was leaning against the staircase railings just staring at you with a subtle frown on his face, making your voice halt in your throat.

It was Sangyeon.

You should’ve known he would be there tonight. He’s the freaking midfielder in Hangang U’s soccer team for goodness sake!

For some reason, the moment you met his eyes, it was as though you got sucked into a black hole with no way to escape. That wasn’t until the warm touch on your arm made you jolt away and soon turned back to Changkyun who was now staring at you with worry.

“Hey? You okay? What’s wrong?” He asked, hoping he didn’t scare you away by that simple touch.

“Y-Yeah… Sorry Changkyun, but I think I’m gonna head home. See you around.” You gave him a sincere smile before turning to leave after he said his goodbye.

There is no way you’re gonna stay there any longer. It’s not like you were drunk or anything. Not like you’d expected him to show up in black leather pants, dark grey button down shirt tucked in, his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, his hair parted close to the middle to frame his face and show his forehead, attractively. And definitely not like you felt as though your stomach was doing a flip in your abdomen after seeing him there physically.

Right?

No. You still hate him. He’s just a walking nuisance in your life. You don’t feel anything for him. Maybe he needs to stop appearing in your line of vision every 5 minutes.

It’s been two weeks since that frat party in which you had texted your friends saying you were already at home. Of course you didn’t get a response immediately but they still replied to you the next morning, telling you they were safe and they were glad that you were too.

It was a rainy Wednesday afternoon where students were all stuck on campus with nowhere to go. You were just seated at a wooden table alone with your laptop and scattered notes on the surface when the ray of sunlight that was previously shining down on you, got blocked by a figure.

You glanced up and not surprisingly, it was Sangyeon. He was alone. For once. He was always with his friends, so you wondered why he chose to walk around alone today.

“What?” You asked nonchalantly before looking back down at your laptop.

You heard a scoff from him only for him to speak up, “Did your parents tell you?”

You got confused as you looked back up to him and blinked, incredulously at what he just asked you.

“Tell me what?” You asked. He wasn’t sure if he was faking it or not but he figured with how genuinely confused you look, it was quite clear you weren’t pretending to not know what he was referring to.

“My parents are coming over to your home this weekend to discuss ‘something serious’. I’m not going. I’m not about to sit there and listen to what the ‘something serious’ is, let alone sit there trapped and stare at you the whole night.” Sangyeon said blankly as he burned holes in your head.

“Good. I wouldn’t want you there anyway.” You scoffed, only for him to push himself off the table and smoothed down his shirt.

Sangyeon left without saying anything else, watching as he turned his head as though in search of his friends. However, the minute you looked back down at your laptop, it seems like you missed the way he glanced at you subtly before turning back in front.

That same day, you went home to find your parents in the living room. Your father was watching the news on the flat screen tv while your mother was just watering the potted plants on the shelves.

The minute you stepped into the living room, your father turned to you and smiled brightly, “Oh, sweetie you’re back. We wanted to tell you that Mr and Mrs-” but before he could finish, you did it for him, stunning them in the process.

“-Lee are coming over this weekend to discuss ‘something serious’... I know.”

With that, your mother and father glanced at each other before a smile appeared on their faces again. You already knew what they were about to ask so you beat them to it.

“Sangyeon told me… So what’s so serious that they wanna come over here and talk about it?” You asked, not knowing what to expect but all you got was silence.

“We have to wait till everyone’s there.”

“Not everyone’s gonna be there…” You said.

“What do you mean?” Your mother asked.

“Sangyeon said he’s not coming. He doesn't want to.”

“B-But, he has to be there. It’s important.”

“What’s so important that he has to be there for?” Your voice laced with annoyance at the thought of having to sit in a room with him for minutes too long. Your parents got quiet before your mother spoke up again but for some reason, her voice sounded weak.

“You’ll know on Saturday.” She gave you a weak smile. Too weak to the point that she almost looks… pale?

Why is she pale?

But your mind was too jumbled up with what the main topic for this said family dinner would revolve around. Hence, why you were now sprinting up the steps and to your room. You didn’t want to think about it anymore. You just hoped the weekend passes by before you know it.

Saturday came in a flash and to say you were ready for whatever family gathering this was, is definitely a lie. You were curious. You were desperate to know just what important business is there to discuss with you and Sangyeon. Despite knowing he won’t be there for whatever this meeting is about, it still rendered you curious on just how important this said matter is.

You were told to look presentable even though you’ll just be at home. So you pulled out the nicest outfit you could find and just opted for a simple blouse and your denim jeans.

Once you were done getting ready, you left your room only to hear your mother calling out to you from downstairs, “Y/N sweetie, the Lee’s are here!”

You made your way down the marbled steps, ready to greet the elder couple when your eyes fell on their son who clearly said he wasn’t going to be here. But of course, it looked like he had been forced against his own will to be here and you were right.

“Oh! My sweet Y/N! It’s been so long. How are you my dear?” Mrs Lee asked as you broke your gaze from Sangyeon only to smile happily when you looked at his parents.

“Hello Mr and Mrs Lee. I’m doing well despite my crazy uni life. I hope you’re both well and healthy!” You said as Mrs Lee hugged you warmly like how she had been doing since you were young.

After greeting them, the 6 of you began walking to your dining room. You then turned to Sangyeon who was walking beside you, only to ask out of curiosity, “Didn’t you say you weren’t gonna come?”

With that, he turns to you and shoots daggers at you through his glare but it does nothing to scare you away.

“Do I look like I wanna be here?”

“Clearly.” You said, just to get on his nerves and it did.

“Fuck you.”

“I’d gladly fuck myself too.”

Sangyeon frowns at your comment despite knowing it was sarcastic. But he still found it amusing that it came out from your mouth. Sure you’ve cursed him a lot of times when you fought with him, but this was a different thing.

All of you finally sat down in the dining room, you helped your mother set the table.

A few minutes went by and everyone was just chatting amongst one another. Well, more specifically the elders while you and Sangyeon simply sat there across each other in silence. You were absentmindedly picking on your food, suddenly losing appetite.

All you wanted was for them to start discussing the very important business. Which is why your patience has run thin, making you blurt out the question that has been floating in your head since Wednesday.

“What’s the important thing you called me and Sangyeon here for?”

The room fell silent as you kept your eyes on your plate of untouched food. Completely ignoring the way Sangyeon had his eyes trained on you. After what felt like hours, your mother finally announced it.

It made your heart stop for a moment.

“We have decided to marry you off with Sangyeon.”

That was the last thing you ever wanted to hear from them. Never did you expect it to be this. Why were they doing this to you? Of course you know you’re single and not dating anyone but still… How could they?

“What?!” Both you and Sangyeon said in unison.

Tension filled the air, thick in its wake. You couldn’t look elsewhere except for your mother who had announced the news.

“You’ve got to be kidding me…” You mumbled under your breath as Sangyeon got up, letting the chair drag painfully across the wooden floor. His mother grabbed his wrist to stop him but he roughly yanked his wrist from her and simply replied with his firm answer, “There’s no way I’m marrying her. I’m out.”

Sangyeon stormed out and you were so tempted to do the same but all you could do was glare at your parents in disbelief.

“Sweetie-” Your mom began but you were quick to interject.

“No! That’s not happening! Mom, you know we hate each other! How can you ask me to marry him when I don’t even love him?!” Your voice was raised as you stood up from your seat. Blood boils in your veins, heart pounding rapidly in your chest out of pure anger. You wanted nothing more but to scream.

You turned in your heels to leave but your mother caught your hands when you were about to reach the stairs. You pulled your hand from her grip, throwing your arm behind your back from the force.

“Sweetie please, listen to me-”

“No mom! I’m not marrying him and that’s final!” You yelled, too furious to even notice the way your mom had clutched her chest as her breathing started to become shallow.

Before you knew it, your mother collapsed to the ground but you were quick to catch her body right when she was about to crash onto the hard wooden floor.

“Mom!” You gasped as your dad and both of Sangyeon’s parents rushed over to where you were.

Mr Lee called the ambulance in which they came just 10 minutes later, carrying your mother’s unconscious body onto the stretcher and bringing her into the ambulance. Your father followed her in the vehicle while Mr Lee offered you a ride there.

Hours passed and you were waiting patiently outside the ER when a doctor came out. Your dad rushed over so you could only guess that she was the one who attended to your mom.

“Doctor, how’s my wife?”

“Your wife’s still under constant checks but so far, her heart is beating stably. However, it seems that her abnormal white blood cells have rapidly multiplied since her last check up.” The doctor said, making you frown.

“White blood cells? What’s going on? What’s wrong with my mother?” You asked desperately, still not sure of what’s going on.

“Your mother was diagnosed with Leukaemia stage 2 but from what I saw today, I believe it’s now up to stage 4.” The doctor announced, making you even more confused.

“What?” You whispered as you stared at your dad, hoping that it’s not true. But all you got was a disheartened smile that broke you into a million pieces.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” You whispered to him sadly, upset that they’ve been keeping this a secret from you.

“I’m sorry baby, but your mother told me not to. She… She didn’t want you to get worried.” He replied.

You don’t understand. You knowing about this was better than keeping it hidden from you. If you had known about this sooner, you wouldn’t have shouted at her. Instead, you would have taken extra care of her. You would have given her more love than what she gave you. And you wouldn’t have to stand here, right now, hoping for your mother’s safety and health.

You slumped onto one of the chairs, staring into space as your father rubbed soft circles into your back to calm you down.

Three days passed and you have been visiting your mother at the hospital diligently after your classes. You stayed till night time, allowing your dad to fetch you from the hospital after he also came by to visit your mom.

You were currently alone in the room with your mom as your dad went out to buy dinner for all three of you.

She was just lying there sleeping peacefully after having a deep conversation with her about some things, her eyes now closed, breathing consistent, chest heaving up and down according to her oxygen intake.

You were just about to doze off when the heart rate monitor suddenly began beeping rapidly. It caused you to panic as you ran out of the room to call for the nurses.

When you came back, your mother was shaking on the hospital bed. Tears started streaming down your face as you found yourself curled up in the corner just watching the hospital staff do whatever is necessary to help your mother.

You didn’t notice your dad who had just come back, only to rush to you after putting the food down on the desk. It was when he cupped your face, that you finally realized his presence.

He pulled you against him as you couldn’t tear your eyes off your mother’s figure, shaking violently on the bed.

It was as though someone had dropped a bomb just a few feet away, a deafening silence pierced your ear drums followed by the single beep sound that was continuous without a pause. The sound soon became a mere ring in your ears.

You slowly brought your line of sight towards the heart rate monitor beside your mother’s bed and that’s when you saw it. The painful straight line with no spikes going up or down.

That’s when you knew, she was gone.

No. This can’t be real. This is just a dream. Wake up Y/N. Pinch yourself. Slap yourself. Do whatever it is to wake yourself up from this nightmare!

And yet, you’re still there in your dad’s arms listening to the nurse who wrote down the words you never hoped to hear.

“Patient is Jeong Hyemin. Time of death, 2143hrs.”

All the more you cried harder against your father’s chest. You were broken. Completely and utterly broken. Your mother left you before you could even say goodbye. She left before you could even tell her that you love her unconditionally even though you told her that everyday.

As much as your heart hurts, you knew you had to accept it. You knew you had to be strong for your mother. And that was exactly what you did.

The next whole week, you didn’t come to school. You emailed your lecturers personally and told them about your loss. They all sent you their well wishes for you and your dad, to which they excused you from school to attend your mother’s funeral. It broke you but you couldn’t collapse just then.

Your mother would want you to be happy, to continue living a wonderful life, with or without her. And that’s exactly what you were gonna do.

The next two weeks came as a blur and you were dreading for the day to finally arrive. You couldn’t bring yourself to look in the mirror and see what you looked like. Because at that very moment, you were in an item of clothing where you never thought you would wear anytime soon.

It was a wedding dress. Your wedding dress. It has finally come to this.

Your makeup stylist did a few touch ups to your eyeshadow whilst another lady adjusted the bow on your waist that separates your laced top with your beautiful silk gown that drops to the floor elegantly behind you.

If you were being honest, you had hoped for this very day to come when you would walk down the aisle with your arm linked with your dad’s while your mother stood at the front row, watching you proudly. Witnessing you entering a new life with your chosen partner whom you’d love with all your heart.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t the case for you and it hurts you. But you kept telling yourself the same thing over and over again.

“I have to stay strong.”

That was the last thing you mumbled to yourself as you left the bride’s room, only to head towards the outdoor wedding ceremony where your parents had already booked an incredibly beautiful mansion located at the highest hills of the city.

It was a small ceremony with only your family and his, and very close relatives of both sides but that was it. None of your friends were there but you already told them about today.

Little did you know, his friends knew about it too.

You were approaching the outdoor garden where everyone was waiting for you when all of a sudden, your emotions started swirling in you.

A tear rolled down your cheek the minute you saw your dad standing at the doorway which leads you directly down the aisle. Your dad gave you a soft smile before cupping your face and kissing your forehead. He wiped the tear away with his thumb as he whispered, “You look so beautiful, sweetheart. I’m sure your mother would be so happy to see you like this.”

With that, you had to force your tears back, swallowing them as you nodded before linking your arm with his.

The song started playing and soon, both of you began to walk down the aisle. The first thing you saw was Sangyeon standing at the foot of the platform. He was wearing a navy blue tuxedo, looking quite handsome if you were being completely honest.

But the frown on his face was evident enough for you to know that he didn’t like this as much as you didn’t like this either.

Once you were standing just two feet away, you turned to your dad who kissed you again on the forehead before putting your hand in Sangyeon’s outstretched ones. After your dad left your side, Sangyeon guided you up the steps carefully.

His touch was soft, almost as if he wasn’t touching you at all. Minutes went by and right after you’ve both said your vows, it was time for the exchange of rings and sealing the deal with a kiss but of course, neither of you agreed to it. So when you were officially announced as husband and wife, you both looked at each other with a familiarity in your eyes which screamed “I hate all of this”.

Sangyeon lets out a soft groan before planting a chaste kiss to your temple, pulling away as soon as he kisses.

Both of you walked back down the aisle and once you were in the mansion, it took you less than a second to walk away from him and make your way straight to the bride’s makeup room.

Sangyeon didn’t bother to call for you as he too made his way to the common room, wanting to be as far away from you as possible. He hated every single minute of this. He never wanted this. But he was being forced to. And he doesn’t even know why.

When he heard from his parents that you accepted the arranged marriage, it baffled him.

You were both so adamant on rejecting this whole fiasco during that night of the dinner so what changed your mind?

That was a question he could never solve.

Days became weeks and you had moved into the new home that his parents and yours bought for Sangyeon and you to live in. It was a beautiful one story home that had 3 bedrooms, one study room, one living room and a backyard complete with a swimming pool. You were thankful for the home but you didn’t think it was necessary considering the state that you and Sangyeon were being put in.

Nevertheless, you didn’t want to disappoint the elders. Hence the reason why you moved in with Sangyeon without a single argument with your dad and in-laws.

Unfortunately, the fact that you two were now living under the same roof, it was quite expected of you to end up fighting over the smallest little things. If being within radius of each other on campus brought unnecessary snickers and curses to one another, living under the same roof only heightened those said things by 80%.

There wasn’t a day where you could walk around the house peacefully unless the other wasn't home.

It has been 8 weeks since you lived there with him. Despite the constant fights and heated arguments that the two of you often get into, none of it leads to the other doing unfaithful things behind each other’s back.

Before the marriage, it was quite clear that you weren’t in any sort of relationship with anyone nor were you the kind to sleep around with strangers you just met at a club or parties. Whereas, Sangyeon on the other hand was completely that, except he too was single. He tends to sleep around with girls he met at a party or the clubs he went to.

But never did he actually pursue any of his one night stands because he simply didn’t feel that way for them.

However, when he got married to you despite being against it, he made a promise to himself that he should not do all those things to you even if he doesn’t love you. Because he knows that it’s wrong and that he despises people who cheat on their partners.

For that, he told himself not to be that monster.

And he didn’t. Thankfully.

But that doesn’t mean he couldn’t storm out of the house after an argument just to get fresh air and be away from you at that very moment.

This goes both ways as sometimes, you would do the same if you couldn’t stand being in radius of him.

But tonight was different.

You were just washing the dishes when the front door opened to reveal a very drained Sangyeon who had just gotten back from the gym.

He strolled through down the hallway with his duffle bag strap resting on his right shoulder, the wet patches on his grey tank top sticking to his torso, black track shorts resting on his hips. His hair was slicked back from being drenched in sweat.

You spared him a quick glance over your shoulder before you turned back to the dirty dishes. Unfortunately for you, he caught you glancing just in time.

He walked past you to go to the fridge after putting his bag down on the floor, opening it and immediately grabbing the bottle of iced water sitting there patiently for him to take it. He downed half the bottle in less than 5 seconds, only to hear him let out a satisfied sigh right after.

You remained quiet as he looked at you for a moment, a small part of him wanted to ask you if you’ve eaten but a bigger part of him, more so his ego, was telling him to walk away.

For some reason, he decided to go with the former. Something he hasn’t been doing all these years.

“Had your dinner yet?” He asked, making you turn off the tap after setting down the clean dish onto the rack above your head before turning to him with a slight confusion on your face.

“Mhm. You?”

“Not yet.” He said as he leaned his hip against the counter top.

“What do you feel like eating?” You asked, wiping your hands dry with the towel hanging off the hook on the wall.

“I kind of have the feel for kimchi fried rice… I’ll just make do with what is there in the fridge. No worries.” Sangyeon said with a soft smile on his face before he left to take a long shower. Something he always did when he had a lot going on in his mind.

The minute he left, you stared at his descending back for a minute before turning back with a confused frown on your face.

Sangyeon was in the shower for almost 20 minutes. Taking a warm bath to calm his tensed muscles due to the intense workout he did with Juyeon and Hyunjae earlier. After his stress relieving bath, Sangyeon changed into a pair of sweatpants and his oversized shirt he normally uses to sleep.

He towel dried his hair, leaving it in an utter mess on his head with no care whatsoever.

He simply brushed through his wet locks with his fingers haphazardly before leaving his bedroom toilet. Sangyeon and you weren’t sharing bedrooms. It was just a mutual agreement right from the first night together.

You took the master bedroom in this house while he took the second bedroom.

Sangyeon was just walking down the hall, scratching the back of his head randomly when he caught a strong whiff of something delicious filling his nostrils.

“What the?” He whispered to himself as he cautiously made his way closer to the end of the hall. The minute he made a right turn, that’s when he saw you scooping out the contents of the pan into a clean plate. To his surprise, it was the exact dish he told you he was planning to cook earlier.

He finally stepped out of the shadows, only to startle you.

You flinched but that was it.

“Hey… I figured you’d be too tired to cook so I made it for you. Just leave the plate in the sink after you’re done. I’ll wash it later.” You pressed your lips into a small little smile before placing the dish on the kitchen island together with a spoon.

Right when you were about to leave the kitchen, his voice stopped you from walking any further only to hear him whisper a soft “thank you” to you.

You gave him a nod and soon left.

Sangyeon stares at your descending back before you disappear from his trail of sight, only to then tilt his head in amusement at your sudden kind act. For some reason, he found himself smiling as he took a mouthful of your delicious fried rice.

Another 3 weeks went by and you had just gotten back from your night study session with Lisa and Jennie, only to find Sangyeon slumped on the couch. He had his face buried in his hands as he looked like he hadn’t slept for days.

You frowned as you locked the door and soon went over to stand behind the long couch, diagonally from the couch he was sitting at.

“Rough day?” You asked quietly, but all you got was silence so you tried again.

“Have you eaten?”

Silence.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

Silence.

“Sangyeon, even if you hate me, at least say yes or no so I can-” And that’s when he bursts.

“Shut the fuck up!” Sangyeon yelled as he glared at you. His nostrils flared upon every heavy breath he took. You were stunned by his harsh tone, clearly not wanting any argument when you first asked the question.

“Excuse me?” You asked with a tone that was pretty obvious to anyone that you were clearly offended by his words.

“Didn’t you hear me?! I said shut the fuck up!” Sangyeon stood tall, his face red as you could only imagine he was stressed about something. A scoff left your lips, feeling the anger seeping through your skin with every word he said to you.

“Why? Why do you want me to shut the fuck up so badly?!” You asked as you stared at him with mixed emotions.

“God, you’re so fucking annoying!” Sangyeon growled as he began to storm off but you stopped him by grabbing his wrist.

“Answer my fucking question, Lee Sangyeon! I was just being nice and caring about your well being and all I got was to shut up? You’re a fucking asshole you know that?” You said, your words filled with venom as he gritted his teeth, jaw clenching tight.

“Who taught you to be such a brat? Your mother?” Sangyeon accidentally blurted that out of sheer anger. Your grip around his wrist left and the next thing he knew, your eyes were glossy from the tears threatening to fall.

“Don’t bring my mother into this.” You warned but he was still fuming with anger.

“Why? Why can’t I?! She’s the only reason why we’re in this stupid marriage anyway!”

You didn’t know what ran through your mind but the minute those words left his mouth, you couldn’t help but swing your hand onto his cheek. This shocked him to a certain extent as he simply glared at you but never did anything to hurt you physically.

“Do you know why I accepted the marriage proposal? Do you wanna know why I decided to walk down that fucking aisle and have myself being called as your official wife?! Well here’s the reason why. I promised my mom I would.” You paused as he remained quiet. You could almost see the cogs turning in his brain as though trying to process your words.

“My mom died wanting me to marry you. She told me she wanted to see me walk down the aisle one day and into your arms. Until now, I don’t understand why she specifically wants it to be you, but that’s what she wanted. So I promised her that she would be there for when that day comes. But she left me before she could even witness that for herself. She left before I could even say goodbye. It broke me. It fucking broke me Sangyeon! That’s why I chose to accept the proposal even when…”

You stopped for a moment, not realizing that you had been crying until you tasted salty tears on your lips.

“...even when I didn’t love you. I did it because I made a promise to her. I don’t want to let her down, Sangyeon.... I never wanted any of this to happen. And I know you feel the same so I’m sorry.” Those were the last things you said to him before going to your bedroom and locking yourself in there.

Sangyeon was left standing there, feeling completely shitty with what he said to you earlier. He never meant to hurt your feelings. He should’ve known better not to mention your mom but he only said that out of pure anger.

He knows it’s his fault but his ego was too high for him to simply give in to his mistake.

He was about to just brush this off when he heard the door click and soon, you were seen leaving your bedroom with a cross body purse on you. You didn’t give him the chance to speak as you just left the house with a soft slam of your front door. He watched as you took your white mini cooper and drove out of the driveway.

“Sweetie, why don’t you want to accept the proposal?” Your mother asked weakly as you sat on the chair beside her hospital bed.

“Mom, you know I don’t love him. We’ve been fighting since we were kids. I don’t see why I should marry someone who I don’t love.”

“Oh sweetie, you can only learn to love by loving.”

“Mom, that’s just fairy tale talk.”

“Do you wanna know something?” She asked as you stared at her quietly while you caressed the back of her hand with your thumbs as he took this silence to continue.

“Your father and I weren’t on good terms too when we first met each other. We always fought in high school and it went on for quite a while until Mrs Lee set me up on this blind date and it was with your father. At first we found it ridiculous, but after that first date, I realized that maybe your father wasn’t as bad as I thought. And so, we started to slowly understand the process of loving someone and soon enough, we fell in love. Love doesn’t always come to you directly. Sometimes, you need to find it yourself.”

She paused, studying your facial expressions carefully to make sure you weren’t angry or about to burst at her for the next thing she was planning to say.

“Can you promise me something sweetie?”

“Anything… Anything at all mom.” You said with a glint of hope in your eyes.

“Can you promise me that you’ll marry Mrs Lee’s son? I don’t care when. Just… as long as it’s him. Even if I’m not around anymore...”

“Mom-”

“Please? For me?”

Your heart broke hearing her pleading voice. You don’t understand why she was so persistent in you marrying him but for now, you couldn’t bear to say no. You couldn’t bear to break her heart. So, with a heavy heart, you chose your mother’s happiness before yours.

“Okay mom… I promise. But you have to promise me too that you’ll be fine and that you’ll come back to me and dad, okay?”

“I promise, sweetheart. I love you so much.” She said.

“I love you too mom.”

That night when you came back to your old house, your dad greeted you at the door with a shocked look on his face. He asked you why you were there at such a late time so you explained to him that you got into a big fight with Sangyeon and that you wanted to stay there for the next few days. Of course your father was happy that he would finally have someone in the house with him, but he was also worried that Sangyeon would be concerned over you.

You told him not to tell Sangyeon anything and that you wanted time away from him for now, in which your dad just nodded understandingly. The next few days, you spent your days diligently avoiding Sangyeon as much as you can despite being in the same campus. Lucky for you, he had very different schedules than you.

Which means, better chance for you to avoid him and not accidentally bump into him on campus grounds. And so far, your plan is working.

It’s been at least 3 weeks since you last went home to your shared place with him and you were starting to run low on your clothing supply back at your old house. Which means, you probably had no choice but to go back there now.

In all honesty, you weren’t mad at him anymore.

You were just too stubborn to face him after that argument. But it looks like you have no other choice now.

Hence, the reason why you were currently standing outside your doorstep at 8pm, noticing the vehicles parked outside your gates. By the looks of it, those probably belonged to his friends. And you were right. Because the minute you unlocked the door, you were immediately greeted by the chattering and laughter coming from the living room.

You walked in further, carefully after taking off your shoes and placing them in the shoe rack. Right when you had just made it by the end of the hallway and the living room was in full view, that’s where you saw the 6 figures scattered around the room.

The TV was playing a movie while the coffee table was filled with boxes of pizzas and other snacks for them to munch on.

Before you could speak up, two of them noticed your presence, making the blonde haired one to say hi, “Oh, hi Y/N.”

With that, the rest of them finally turned around upon hearing their friend greet you. Sangyeon, who was standing right in front of the TV, checking the cables, whipped his head around only to lock eyes with you. He froze in his spot, unsure if this was real considering you’ve been avoiding him like a plague the past 3 weeks.

“Y/N…” Was the only thing he managed to whisper under his breath as you awkwardly chuckled, hoping you didn’t create an unsettling atmosphere for them.

“Hey…” You whispered as he carefully made his way to you. The moment he was standing right in front of you, neither of you spoke. Both of you are afraid of saying the wrong thing which could potentially lead to another argument. But Sangyeon was smart enough to know not to make unnecessary comments to you after what happened the last time. So instead, he opted for an apology.

“Listen, about that night… I- I’m really sorry… I didn’t... I didn’t know.”

You could only give him a small smile that he could clearly see was weak and almost drained as you spoke up, “It’s okay. Anyways… I think I’m gonna rest.”

He simply nodded, resisting the urge to pull you into a hug and tell you how sorry he was for treating you like crap all these while. These past 3 weeks have made him realise that he wasn’t the nicest of people to you, that he said a lot of things that had definitely hurt you in the past, that he has been nothing but mean to you.

Upon hearing your bedroom door close, Sangyeon lets out a defeated sigh before walking back to his friends who then asked him if everything was okay. After he told them that everything was indeed okay, he plopped back down on the couch but it seemed to worry his friends seeing how sad Sangyeon looked at the moment.

Whenever he was with them, he has always been the goofy, savage, often picking on the others to get a reaction out of them, kind of guy. They’ve never properly seen this softer side of him.

It’s been nearly an hour since you came home and yet, he hasn’t caught a single glimpse of you anywhere. He got worried for you, not knowing whether you’ve eaten or not. So he decided to check on you. He got up from the ground to excuse himself, telling them to just continue what they were doing.

When he arrived at your supposedly shared bedroom, he found you seated on the window couch just staring into the night sky. However, before he could even knock on the door and push it wider, he heard soft sobs from you that gradually grew louder. He stayed by the door and unintentionally listened to your whispers.

“I miss you mum… I’m sorry if I couldn’t live up to my promise just like you wanted me to. I know I’m not the best wife to him, but I’m trying… I’m trying… for you. I wish you were still here beside me. To guide me on how to be a good wife. To love someone without feeling trapped. To love someone the way you and dad loves me. I’m so sorry mum… I’m so truly sorry…”

Sangyeon’s heart shattered into a million pieces for you. That’s when he realized that his feelings for you had changed. That all he wanted to do right at this very moment was to protect you. You were broken, fragile and yet, he’s been treating you horribly all these while.

He couldn’t take it any longer. With that being said, he carefully and quietly made his way to you. Not making a sound as you had your head buried in your knees, cries getting louder the closer he came to you. However, when you felt his soft hands caress the sides of your arms, you looked up. Your eyes glistened under the moonlight, your cheeks soaked with your freshly falling tears.

At that moment, you looked so vulnerable.

So when he pulled you into his embrace, you easily let him. Burying your face into his chest as he gently rubs circles onto your back, caressing your head comfortingly.

After a few seconds of silence, you finally whispered against his chest. Just loud enough for him to hear, but soft enough that nobody standing outside the door could hear.

“I miss her Sangyeon…”

Sangyeon wasn’t sure how to respond to your confession but he tried as best as he could to make you feel better.

“And I know that she misses you too. But it’s okay, she will always be with you. You’ll be okay… I promise.” He whispered and almost immediately, you pulled back as he frowned in confusion.

“You shouldn’t promise me anything…” You said, your tears slowly getting lesser and lesser by the minute.

“Why do you say that?”

“Because the last time someone made me a promise, they promised me that they’ll be okay and that they’ll never leave me… And yet she did...” Your voice hushed. He could tell that that was your trauma. Making promises.

He felt a tear threatening to roll down his cheek but he managed to hold back. Sangyeon softly reached up to cup your face and caress your cheeks with both thumbs before he spoke up, “I’m sorry she did. I’m sorry that promise got broken. But it’s not her fault. You know it wasn’t. So let me make a promise to you now and this time, it won’t be broken.”

With that being said, you cried even harder as he just pulled you against his chest almost cradling you like a child. After almost 20 minutes in the room, he finally let go of your fragile figure and asked if you wanted to eat.

You told him you weren’t hungry and that you just wanted to rest. Sangyeon nodded, bringing you to the bed as he carefully tucked you in to make you cosy. He was about to leave you alone when you grabbed his wrists. Sangyeon turned around with such a soft gaze on you, it nearly melted you.

“Where are you going?” You asked with a soft voice, almost shy. Sangyeon found it so endearing that he couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

“I’m gonna go back to the boys and maybe call it a night early.” He smiled, to which you felt his other hand come to wrap its fingers around your extended wrist, gently pulling it away before caressing the back of your wrist with his thumb.

“Can you come back after… please?” You whispered as you saw him smile again before putting your hand down on the mattress softly.

“I will.”

Soon enough, Sangyeon left you in the room to rest for a bit while he went back to his friends and relayed the message to them. Thankfully, the boys were very understanding. They told Sangyeon to send their well wishes to you in which he definitely would. After they left, Sangyeon went ahead and cleared the leftover trash.

Silently thanking the boys for cleaning most of the mess up before he even came back into the living room. He was almost done cleaning, not forgetting to brush his teeth before going back to your room only to find you already asleep with your back facing the door.

Sangyeon couldn’t help but smile as he closed the door behind him and soon made his way quietly to the other side of the room.

He carefully pulled the duvet up, climbing into bed after putting the duvet back down.

He very gently lifted your head up to let his right arm slide under your neck as a pillow, proceeding to pull your body closer against his chest. Once you were both in a comfortable position, he gently wrapped his other hand around your waist. Caressing your side in a comforting manner.

“Goodnight Y/N.” He whispered as he soon drifted off into slumber.

Ever since then, both of you had stopped the constant arguments. You weren’t always annoyed by every little thing the other did. In school, when you’d accidentally bump into one another, either one would smile and acknowledge the other. Some people who witnessed this, found it strange but your close friends didn’t.

It’s been a good 4 months since you’d reconciled with Sangyeon. Though there were disagreements at times, those arguments would however, be resolved as quickly as it came.

But one thing’s for sure, is that during the past 4 months, you and Sangyeon had slowly found yourselves falling for each other. Neither of you said it out loud, but apparently those around you could visibly tell. Especially your friends.

It was a Thursday afternoon, you and the girls were just walking to the lunch hall when Lisa spotted Sangyeon and his friends just walking down the main building. It seems like they were heading towards the lunch hall as well. With that being said, Lisa called out to Sangyeon’s name, causing him and the rest to turn.

The minute Sangyeon’s eyes locked on Lisa’s and then on you, his gaze softened as you saw the corner of his lips curving upwards into a cute smirk.

They stopped walking to let you girls catch up and once you did, Lisa immediately went to Juyeon and began talking to him casually. The other girls went to walk with the rest while you came to a quick stop beside Sangyeon before you continued walking with the others ahead of you.

“How was class?” He asked, his arm accidentally brushing against yours as you walked further down the building.

“Horrible. Can you believe he wants us to submit 10 codes by the end of this week? I swear that man wants me dead.” You groaned in annoyance, only to hear him chuckle. But what he said next, caught you by surprise.

“But I don’t want you dead.”

With that, you turned to him as a small smile appeared on your face despite the frown you had. Both of you walked in silence, just basking in the conversations of your friends when you felt a soft tickling feeling on your fingers.

You glanced down to see that his hand was playfully brushing against your fingers, making you look up to catch him already staring at you.

Sangyeon smiled at you innocently, not sure if he wanted to say anything else until he felt you slide your hand into his, lacing your fingers with his easily. Now it was his turn to look down and then back up at you. All he did was chuckle, a sound you could definitely get used to.

A week passed and it was finally the weekend. You and Sangyeon didn’t have anything planned for the day.

Or at least you thought.

You were just lounging on the couch on a beautiful Saturday evening when Sangyeon came over to plop down beside you with a cheeky smile on his face.

“You’re oddly happy? What’s going on?” You asked with a raise of your eyebrow.

“I have a surprise for you but you have to go get ready okay?”

“Get ready? It’s already 7 o’clock. Where can we go?” You asked but all you got was a soft whine from him telling you to just do it. You opted to listen as he reminded you to wear prettily. You weren’t sure where you were going so you didn’t want to either overdress or underdress.

So you opted for simple denim skinny jeans, a baby blue sleeveless top, a white long knit cardigan and a pair of beige chunky heeled sandals.

When you left your shared bedroom to go to the living room, you were surprised to see him dressed handsomely in his black skinny jeans, a white button down shirt with the first few buttons undone, along with a navy blue bomber jacket. You saw him look at your outfit from head to toe, only for him to smirk playfully at you.

“Damn, who knew my wife could look this beautiful?” Sangyeon teased, making you giggle.

“Sangyeon, I literally wear jeans everyday.”

“Exactly.”

When you realized what he was trying to say, you soon found yourself blushing as you walked over to him and gently slapped his chest with your hand. Urging him to go before you slapped that cute smirk off his face.

Sangyeon couldn’t help but laugh but nonetheless left the house in his matte black Bentley. You watched as he drove down the street, bringing you to a part of the city where you don’t remember going to before in your life. The car ride was filled with jokes and laughter coming from both of you. He distracted you too much to the point where you didn’t even notice you were already at the location he wanted to bring you.

You looked out the window and that’s when you realize, “Is this an outdoor cinema?” You gasped when you saw the open field with a large screen at the centre, along with the endless rows of couples seated on their own blankets with snacks and drinks of their preferences.

“Sangyeon… This is…” You were speechless and he could see.

He chuckled as he just stared at you with such endearment in his eyes. Some people would just call it love.

“It’s wonderful.” You finally got to finish your sentence, turning to him with a smile.

“I’m glad you think so. Now let’s go! The movie’s about to start.”

Two hours had passed and you were now a few minutes in of the second movie. You noticed some couples were starting to get comfortable on their blankets. You were starting to get tired just sitting up straight and Sangyeon noticed your subtle shifts, desperate to find a comfortable sitting position.

“Hey, you okay?” He asked quietly.

“Yeah. I’m okay, just a little tired from sitting up.” You explained with a bashful little smile. Just then, Sangyeon thought of an idea that was completely beyond your imagination.

Hence, when he patted the space in between his legs, you glanced down and then back at him who was seen smiling softly to you. None of it was making you feel creeped out. In fact, you felt safe and that you could trust him. After all, he was your husband anyways. Of course you trust him.

“Come here.” He said as he stared at you calmly. He wasn’t sure if you were entirely up for this but before he could take his words back, that’s when he saw you carefully crawling towards the space he patted earlier.

Once you were seated in front of him, Sangyeon scooted forward a little before he slid his arms around your waist.

He soon pulled you against his chest, before he whispered in your ear, “Comfortable?”

You turned your head to look at him but instead got slightly flustered by the close proximity that led you to feeling his lips accidentally brush against your own. You got quiet for a moment, praying that he didn’t hear the way your heart was pounding against your chest.

You couldn’t trust your voice so you opted for a soft hum to answer his question. The next few minutes, you found yourself getting more and more comfortable in his arms, putting your hands on top of his forearms as you unconsciously caressed his skin in a calming manner. All the while, Sangyeon was behind you, completely distracted from the movie in front of him.

Instead, his mind was fuzzy with how close you were to him at that very moment. This was something he never thought would happen back when he was still young.

But now that he was here with you, just cuddling at an outdoor movie theatre, he couldn’t help but want more of this. Sangyeon found himself smiling as he couldn’t help but give your sides a gentle squeeze, telling you that he was there with you and that he would never leave you.

Thankfully, you got the silent message.

Because right after he did that, you turned your head to look at him. His eyes held the galaxy. You found yourself getting lost in his eyes.

Both of you were silent but it wasn’t awkward. You didn’t know what came over you but a sense of confidence washes over you. With that being said, you carefully leaned forward to close the gap and soon pressed your lips on his.

To say he was taken aback slightly, is definitely an understatement.

But it took him less than 3 seconds to finally move his lips against yours in a smooth rhythm. You brought your right hand up to gently cup his face as you kissed him.

Sangyeon tightens his hold on you, pulling away from the kiss only to look into your eyes with such adoration. He wasn’t sure if now was the right time to express his feelings for you, but he thought, what was there to lose. So with that thinking, Sangyeon took a small breath before he uttered the 3 words he never thought he’d say to you but he did. And every single word he said at that moment, was as sincere as ever.

“I love you.”

You couldn’t help but smile softly at him before you kissed him again in a longing kiss before pulling away and replying to him with the exact emotions you felt for him genuinely.

“I love you too, Sangyeon.”

~~~

#the boyz scenarios #the boyz imagines #the boyz x reader #the boyz sangyeon #lee sangyeon #tbz scenarios #tbz imagines #tbz x reader #sangyeon x reader #tbz sangyeon scenarios #the boyz sangyeon scenarios #tbz sangyeon fluff #tbz sangyeon angst

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alphabravocharliedelta · 3 years

Text

Alive | Russell Adler

Series: Call of Duty: Black Ops Cold War

Word Count: 1600+

Content Warning: mentions of drugs, needles, blood, mature content/language, etc

Notes: Yeah... I had to write something, especially reading everyone else’s short fics about the Season Three Cinematic. I haven’t been able to write anything the past couple weeks, so hopefully this is decent.

[Alive]

. He lost track.

The first couple days he would count each minute that passed. It was nothing special, just being tossed into a vacant, dead silent room. The floor was cold and there wasn't even a bed. Something like this wasn't new to Adler— he could handle it.

He tried to escape a couple times, but without anything to properly protect himself with, he was only met with unnecessary exhaustion and injuries. Making mental notes of each personnel that circulated through, noticing their habits and rotation schedules. Adler planned meticulously, and yet he couldn't do shit except wait around.

Stitch graced him with his presence quite a few times.

Adler couldn't help but give a small mocking grin as they came face to face the first time around, running his mouth with usual quips:

"This isn't quite the reunion I had in mind."

It wasn't long before they forced a bag over his head and threw him into an aircraft. An eternity passed before they landed, and the first thing he noted was the sheer humidity of the destination. Adler couldn't see, and it was up to his imagination as to where he was. There was the faint smell of grass and dirt. His skin already was coated in sweat as his white tank top hugged his body.

The hands that took care of him were everything but gentle, shoving and practically throwing him whenever he stumbled or was a pace too slow. If they were feeling especially annoyed, maybe a prog with the end of a gun or a whip to the face.

Waiting around was starting to get bothersome. Either Woods, and the rest of the team, could extract him from whatever hellhole Stitch provided for him, or he had to do the work himself.

With a single man against an entire faction, with no weapon or knowledge of the terrain, Adler dwindled down to nothing but a prisoner of war. But no matter. All he had to do was tighten his jaw, hold back his tongue, and focus on survival.

Then, the torture started.

Thrown into a musty old chair, they ripped the suffocating bag off of his face. They didn't even give him time to more or less settle in before stabbing a needle into his neck and placing a camera in front of him. Attaching a few tiny pads to his chest, temple, and arms, Naga had the pleasure of leading the interrogation. If you could even call it that. The purpose felt more so for sadistic pleasure rather than an attempt to extract information.

It wasn't so bad the first couple of times. Adler had a good tolerance for pain, but the threshold increased within a blink, and he soon found himself gripping the arms of the chair as adrenaline rushed forth in an attempt for fight-or-flight, but he wasn't going anywhere.

Fuck!

Adler tried to convince himself they weren't going to break him. Whether it be through starvation, punches, cuts, dehydration, he will pull through. If he could get through Vietnam in one piece, this would have been a rerun of previous experiences. But this… was different.

Was this how you felt, Bell? he thought to himself.

It was the same shit he did to them.

The image of the Perseus agent he had personally interrogated conjured up back from the depths of his memories, and he gritted. Adler long convinced himself that shooting Bell on that cliff was inevitable— He had to do it. How ironic to finally get a taste of his own medicine. Yet, it was a necessary action.

To be on the receiving end of electrical shocks presented him a new world of pain.

Relentlessly, ruthlessly, painfully. Anything to get that sliver of information.

"Again."

Another injection. His thoughts disappeared as his mind began to fog up.

Shit.

Adler stared at the fabrics of his bloodstained pants. Beads of sweat trailed down from the tip of his nose and fell carelessly. How long has it been?

With his stomach growling and lips parched, Adler could only feel the soreness of his muscles as they tightened at every shock and his old cuts reopening.

"Eat."

They would only provide him with the bare minimum, scraps and a cap's worth of water, just to keep him from dying.

Adler spat out some blood. "Fuck you."

He refused to die. He needed to stay alive, yet there were those moments where perishing from existence seemed like the better option. And each time he thought that, there was that tiny, speck of hope that would retaliate in return.

Just a little longer.

Time was a blur. Now he was on a table, back in the clutches of Stitch.

He’s been tossed around for days (weeks? months?) like a ball in a tag team battle. Transferred from one place to another, sat down and strapped to be beaten repetitively. He caught himself forgetting as to why he was there in the first place, only to remember each time as he looked up at Stitch or Naga’s face.

Along with those two, he remembers Bell each time. Years later, except with roles switched. They were dead, yet Adler could sense their unwanted presence.

“Adler.”

He freezes. Adler tugs at his arms, only to be withheld with leather cuffs digging into his already bruised skin.

No.

He wasn't hearing it. Not their voice.

It was just an auditory hallucination. An effect of the brainwashing they were attempting. Stitch was in the corner, giving no indication of hearing anything.

Adler knew he shouldn't respond, but his brain process was too slow to prevent himself: "You're dead."

His own voice was unfamiliar to him. Hoarse and weakened, even he was starting to lose his own sense of identity.

"I am."

It was all in his head.

I killed you.

"You did. You shot me."

Bell's voice would come and go. Adler would slip unconscious on occasion, before being forced awake for continuous sleep deprivation. If he was in such a state to a point where he started to hear imaginary voices, it meant that whatever Stitch was planning was working.

But why Bell, out of all people? There were way more personal alternatives, like his ex-wife, but his mind decided on Bell to project his subconscious onto in the form of a disembodied voice.

"You know why."

Whatever the motive, his grip on reality was weakening. Not only had he been tormented with psychological and physical torture, but now he had to listen to his own past consequences belittle him.

The CIA forgot about him. No one was going to come. He was vulnerable and useless. Dead weight.

"Pathetic."

Adler sobbed for the first time, releasing a pinch of the pent up emotions he’s been withholding. He didn’t want to give them that satisfaction, yet his throat tightened up and a gasp for air turned into a whimper.

As quickly as the sound came out, he hardened himself once again. His tear ducts were long dry for the past few years. He wasn't going to fucking break, he was not going to cry—

Adler would pull through, just as he did all those other times.

But, he knew for a fact that hoping for a slim window of chance was useless, and there was a small part of him already acknowledging the fact that no one will come for him.

It was just an endless fight between dwindling hope and wanting to cave in. He wasn't going to let them win. He was better than this.

He grinds his molars together, the metallic taste of blood caking his tongue. Adler shut his eyes and his face scrunched up and gave out a suffocating groan, feeling another wave of electricity pulse through. It was still managed to produce the same pain from the first few times, feeling fresh with each round.

"Suffer."

It was never enough.

Despite his diligence and stubbornness, there was always that split second where he would always think:

Make it stop.

But of course, they wouldn't. No one could hear his yelps or growls of anguish in this isolated facility— it was the perfect place for people like Adler to be held. Whatever Stitch had on mind, it was happening all too smoothly, and the lack of activity from the CIA side was all too concerning.

"They think you're dead. You're all alone."

Adler resisted the urge to tell Bell to shut up, but he didn't have the mental strength to do so. Seeing how long it's been, they weren't wrong.

They really did forget about him.

He hated himself for being this weak— for being defenseless and slow, for everything. Perseus was always several steps ahead of him. What was the point of the sacrifices he made if this was the end result?

The only peace he had was when Stitch sedated him (if he was fortunate enough), but the moment he woke up his senses would be overwhelmed to the max. It was the same procedures being played and re-winded each day. His body should have been accustomed to it, yet they knew how to work their way around it.

Day after day.

He was getting tired of fighting it.

Adler sucks in his breath, eyeing Stitch as came back inside. A gentle breeze flowed in for a second before the metal doors slammed shut. The crisp air made his nose crinkle, contrasting against the smell of sweat and blood that stuck to him like glue.

It was the closest Adler was going to get to seeing, and feeling, the outside world.

Stitch hands the phone off to one of the soldiers that lingered nearby. That menacing look was plastered behind that mask, never ceasing at the sight of his crippled form.

"Now, where were we?"

It would be easier to just slip and conform to their wants. Why did he still resist?

All he had to do was let go.

He had no one to return to anyway.

#pain by three days grace keeps repeating in my head whenever i look over this and i want it to stop #*balls hand into fist* such a good song #russell adler #fanfic #bo:cw #black ops cold war #call of duty #call of duty black ops cold war #bocw #text #abcd briefing #i wouldn't really consider this a pairing fic lol #call of duty cold war

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holidaywishes · 3 years

Text

Dusk Till Dawn

Requested: 👍

Summary/Request: 22 of the music prompts with Matthew Tkachuk please? “but you’ll never be alone / i’ll be with you from dusk till dawn” (dusk till dawn, zayn & sia) for @chuckythepest

Warning: fluff, maybe some angst, soft smut (I’ll be honest, I changed my mind about having a bit of smut in here or not and it’s not much but it’s there, so...)

Author’s Note: I’m sorry it’s taken me a little bit longer to write but hopefully it gives you what you’re looking for. I’ve never listened to this song so much in my life; I had it playing on repeat as I wrote this so I could really get a feel of what to write. My friend is a huge Matthew Tkachuk fan, really a huge Flames fan in general, but I have to admit I had to watch a lot of interviews to get a feel for the guy. I also wasn’t sure if I wanted it to be an angsty fic or a fluffy one because the song kinda has both vibes so honestly, it’ll be an adventure for the both of us. If you enjoyed this one, here’s the entire list of prompts. Feel free to send your requests through! Stay Golden, loves <3!

masterlist

the other masterlist

You had been on a vacation with a few of your friends in Cancun for about a week when you got the news that everything was going into lockdown

“What does this mean?” your friend, Beth, asked as she paced around the hotel room

“It means that everyone has to stay inside for a bit” you said

“No, what does that mean for us?” she asked again

“I guess it means that we have to isolate when we get home” another of your friends, Jenna, replied as she dropped onto the bed

“I wouldn’t have left if I knew we were gonna come back to a total nationwide, international lockdown!” Melanie, your childhood friend shouted frantically

“Okay, everyone calm down...” you sighed, “we knew this was a possibility, as much as we might want to say that we didn’t, we knew that we could get home and everything would be shut down”

“So what do we do?” Beth asked

“We...” you stammered, not having the answers but trying your best to stay calm, “we listen. We do what we’re told -- isolate, quarantine, get tested, all of it -- and then hopefully it’ll be over soon.” Your words were like a curse because as soon as you got back to St. Louis, the world seemed crazier than it ever was. Months went by and nothing changed. People were still getting sick, still dying, and there were still people who thought it was all a hoax. Birthdays were spent apart, friends stopped making an effort to keep in touch and it made everything feel... cold and sad. The only thing that seemed to make any sense was your friendship with Matthew.

“What’s up kid?” he texted one day after a particularly hard week and you just about broke down in front of your phone screen

“I lost my job...” you sent back

“Ah shit, I’m sorry”

“It’s fine but thank you”

“It’s not fine”

“I mean, no, but it’s not like it’s just me. Half of the world has lost their jobs”

“That doesn’t mean you have to be all fine about it”

“Matt, seriously, it’s fine”

“You say that now and then two days from now you’ll get pissed about someone else getting promoted”

“I wouldn’t do that”

“Not on purpose but stress can do things to a person...”

“I’ll be fine but thank you for caring so much”

“Anytime!” you smiled at his concern before changing the subject, checking in with his family, asking him about what was going to happen with the season, “I have no idea... everything is still shut down until further notice”

“I hope things get better by Christmas”

“At the rate things are going, I don’t think they will”

“Way to stay positive, Tkachuk” you scoffed to yourself

“It’s what I do 😜” the conversation didn’t last long after that and you went on a spiral of looking and applying for jobs; everything came crashing down when you’re grandpa got sick and you couldn’t visit him. You called the hospital every day, not wanting your grandpa to be alone, but they wouldn’t let you in, ‘protocols’ they said

“I don’t know what to do, Matt” you sobbed over the phone

“Relax,” he tried, “we’ll get you in there”

“They won’t let me in!” you argued, raising your voice in anger, “he’s dying and they won’t let me see him...”

“I can make sure you see him.”

Matthew’s P.O.V

You were trying your best to get (Y/N) into the hospital to see her grandpa but it was taking a lot more effort than you thought

“Please,” you begged the doctor, “he doesn’t have anyone else. She’s not getting any answers and she just wants to see him, even if it’s to say goodbye”

“I’m sorry. I can’t break the rules for your girlfriend” the doctor replied

“No--” you stammered, trying to backtrack, “she’s not my girlfriend. She’s my best friend and she wants to see her grandfather”

“I can’t break protocols for one person. We’re doing everything we can to keep him healthy and if we invite guests inside, it puts our patients at risk,” the doctor explained, “maybe we can set up a Zoom call”

“If he dies and she isn’t there, she will blame herself for the rest of her life”

“I’m sorry. I don’t have a choice...” you angrily hung up the phone, throwing it to the side while you thought up a plan before calling (Y/N).

“The doctor said no...” you said solemnly

“What?” she whimpered, “Matt, he can’t be alone there. In a hospital, he needs to be with people who love him”

“They said they have protocols,” you added, “but we can sneak in there...”

“Sneak into a hospital?” she scoffed, “Matthew, we’re not spies. We can’t sneak into a hospital during a pandemic”

“Just trust me”

“What happens if we get caught? If we get in trouble?”

“We’ll cross that bridge if we come to it”

“I can’t le--”

“Just trust me” you interrupted, convincing her that everything would be okay and ending the call. You made your way to the hospital where (Y/N)’s grandpa had been checked into and asked around about how someone could have visitors

“They’d have to be tested before they came and then retested, temperature checked, when they got here,” a nurse explained, “and then they’d have to sit behind a barrier with a mask on. It wouldn’t be any different than most other places -- we’re following the same guidelines and restrictions, we just have to be 10 times as careful because we have lives at stake”

“But if a family member did all that, the tests and followed the guidelines, they could come visit?” you asked, feeling like you might be getting close to a solution

“Hypothetically?” she started, “it’s possible but there would be a time limit. Maybe 10 minutes maximum and even that’s pushing it”

“I can work with that!” you smiled under your mask and rushed out of the hospital, texting (Y/N) about what needed to be done, the two of you rushing to a testing facility as fast as possible and waited impatiently for the results. When both of your results came back negative, you told her you’d make a call and get her in to see her grandpa; she hugged you tightly before a tear fell from her eye onto your exposed collarbone. “He’s gonna be okay” you whispered

“Thank you,” she replied, keeping her arms wrapped around your neck, “for doing all this for me”

“I know how much he means to you” you smiled at her when she finally let go of you, her eyes softening at your words. You and (Y/N) met when your dad was drafted to St. Louis and had been friends ever since, celebrating each others successes as the years went by. Her grandparents raised her after her mom died and her dad took off, she was only six years old; her grandma died two years later so it was (Y/N) and her grandpa against the world. They were inseparable and she would’ve done anything for him -- including letting you sweet talk a group of nurses to get her into a hospital during a global pandemic. You watched as she made her way down the hallway, the lack of visitors and laughter making everything suddenly feel real, she stopped in front of a large glass door clutching onto the coat that she held in her hands as she waited for someone to let her in. A doctor finally let her in but stayed close by, pulling her out after 10 minutes had passed, not a second more, “come on, man,” you begged, “let her have a little bit more time”

“I can’t” he replied before looking at (Y/N), “I really am sorry.” She nodded at the doctor before looking back toward her grandpa’s room and tucking herself into your side as you made your way out of the hospital. You started to drive her home but after miles of silence, she asked if you could take her to the park where the two of you used to sneak out to

“Yeah, sure” you agreed, keeping your voice soft and letting her rest her head against the window for the remainder of the ride. When you pulled up in front of the park and parked the car, you looked at (Y/N) noticing a stream of dried tears on her cheeks before she swung open the car door and ran to the swings. She did this every once in a while, tried to ignore her pain and focus on putting a smile on someone else’s face by pretending she was fine. You could always tell that she wasn’t fine but you couldn’t always bring her out of it, “(Y/N)...” you sighed

“Come on, Matty!” she called, pushing herself on the swing to see how high she could get, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...”

“Why? I wanted to come to the park to play, not to talk,” she challenged, “if I wanted to talk, I would’ve gone home or to your place...” you exhaled as you walked toward the free swing beside her, your eyes following her as they tried to catch a glimpse of her face; trying to gauge whether or not she was crying. She didn’t stay on the swing too much longer, instead choosing to jump onto the Merry Go-Round

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” you scoffed

“No,” she answered with a laugh, laying down on the cold metal, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” You obliged, letting the sound of her laughter fill the air while the old playground equipment squeaked below her. As you kept spinning her, you noticed that her once happy laughter had been replaced by whimpers and you fought to slow down the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)?” you asked as you rushed to her, “what’s wrong? what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt...” she cried, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...”

“Shhh,” you tried to calm her sobs, letting her head fall onto your shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” she sobbed

“You’re not alone...” you whispered and she looked up at you, her eyes flooded with tears, “you’ll never be alone...” you could tell by the way she looked at you that she wanted you to kiss her but you couldn’t bring yourself to do anything, fearing that she was too vulnerable and you’d be taking advantage of her. So, you continued to hold her instead, for as long as she needed but when she lifted her head up from your shoulder to look at you once more, she made the first move, pressing her lips onto yours as dusk set in and the two of you were the only sound either of you could hear. Your lips moved in sync with hers as your hands laid firmly on her sides; rolling her onto her back slowly so she didn’t hit her head. Her hands roamed to the top of your zipper, pushing the slider down before you tore it off your body quickly, leaving her lips for just a second to throw the fabric behind you. As much as you wanted this to happen, you were still being careful and she could feel your hesitation

“What’s wrong?” she asked

“Nothing,” you lied, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” she smiled.

When Matt started to drive you home, you asked him to redirect you to the park the two of you used to go as kids; so you could feel a little less like the world was falling apart

“Yeah, sure” he said softly before your head fell against the window as you waited for him to pull up to the park. You had managed to keep your crying quiet enough that, when he saw you, Matt was surprised to see the stream of tears on your cheeks. You pressed your lips together before you rushed out of the car toward the old swing set, jumping on and trying to get as high off the ground as possible

“(Y/N)...” Matt sighed and the tone of his voice was all too familiar so you ignored it

“Come on, Matty!” you laughed when you called to him, “let’s see if you can get higher than me!”

“(Y/N).. we don’t have to do this. We could just sit and talk if you wanted to...” he tried but you shook your head. You just wanted to forget what you’d just seen, forget about what was happening, forget that you might have to be alone again and you really didn’t want to be alone again

“Why?” you urged, “I wanted to come to the park to play not to talk. If I wanted to talk I would’ve gone home or to your place...” he finally walked to the swing next to you and began pumping his legs to meet your height before you could feel him watching you, leading you to hop off the swing and head to the next piece of equipment from your childhood; the Merry Go-Round.

“You’re gonna spin on this now?” Matt scoffed as he followed you to the metal death trap that you climbed on

“No,” you replied, chuckling at his question before lying down, your exposed skin meeting the cold metal below you, “you’re going to spin me and I’m gonna see how long it takes me to get dizzy.. Just like we used to do.” He compressed his lips and did as you asked, spinning you quickly and you laughed as you got increasingly dizzy with every turn before your grandpa’s face popped into your head; tears overcoming you as whimpers left your lips. Matt quickly dug his feet into the ground to stop the Merry Go-Round

“(Y/N)? What’s wrong?” he rushed to you, pulling you close to him, “what happened?”

“He’s all alone, Matt,” you cried as you remembered your grandpa in the hospital. He was all you had and the idea of him not being with you terrified you, “you should’ve seen him, he was so weak and I just wanted to hug him and tell him everything was going to be okay but I don’t think he’s going to be okay...” you shook your head frantically at the thought

“Shhh..” he hushed you, letting your head fall on his shoulder, “I’m here”

“I don’t want him to be alone... I don’t want to be alone” you sobbed

“You’re not alone,” he whispered and you felt his body move closer to yours, just to close the space between you, your eyes continuing to brim with tears, “you’ll never be alone.” Whether it was your fear of being alone, of losing the only person who had ever loved you, or if you just wanted to be close to someone, anybody, you looked up at Matt with soft eyes, hoping he’d make a move. But he didn’t. He just held you and, as nice as it was, it wasn’t what you wanted. You lifted your head once more, this time moving your lips closer to his as the sky filled with the dark hues of dusk, his breath brushing across your skin before your lips connected with his. He pressed his hand against your waist as he kissed you slowly, your lips parting just enough for his tongue to inch into your mouth before he shifted his body to lay your back onto the Merry Go-Round, holding your head with his free hand so you didn’t hurt yourself. Your hands found their way to the zipper of his hoodie, sliding it down and pushing the fabric from his arms and he left the kiss just for a second to easily throw away his hoodie, leaning back over you while you waited for him to continue kissing you but he pulled away

“What’s wrong?” you asked, sitting up as he did and you leaned against his back

“Nothing...” he said but you could tell he was lying, “I just want to make sure you’re okay with this. That you’re not just doing this because you’re upset...”

“I know what I’m doing, Matt” you scoffed and he turned his head back to you

“I know you do,” he smiled, kissing your nose playfully, “I just want you to know that you don’t have to”

“I want to” you replied, placing your hand on the side of his face to bring him closer to you, pressing your lips against his and twisting his body back on top of yours. You melted into each other, your breathing in sync as you undid the button of his jeans, setting him free before his hands drifted to push your leggings down. His lips trailed to your neck as he pushed himself into you, eliciting a quiet moan from you and a growl from him when you dug your nails into his skin. You tried not to make too much noise, worrying that the park was still too close to the neighbouring houses, but every once in a while you whined out a curse word

“Fuck,” Matthew moaned out before you could, “oh god” he grunted against your neck as he continued to pump in and out of you, your back arching to gain more friction

“Shit,” you whimpered, “fuck.” His speed increased and you giggled when you heard the Merry Go-Round start to squeak

“Shh” he chuckled

“I’m sorry” you laughed back, trying to focus more on the pleasure than the noise and after a few minutes, Matt released inside you and rolled to the side. You curled up beside him, placing your hand on his chest before you fell asleep next to him. You woke up with the dawn, letting Matt sleep while you watched the Sky lighten

“Good morning” he cooed, kissing your shoulder as he sat up

“Good morning,” you smiled, turning to lay a kiss to his lips, “we should probably get out of here before someone rats us out” he laughed but nodded in response, grabbing his hoodie from the ground and wrapping it around you. You watched him drive smoothly through the streets and you smiled to yourself

“What?” he smirked

“Nothing,” you replied, “I just... like you a whole lot”

“That so?” He chuckled to himself

“Yeah”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I like you a whole lot, too.” He reached out his hand to interlock his fingers with yours and a flush of heat ran through your body. He had managed to make you forget about everything for a while and you were grateful to him for that but you were still scared that you’d end up alone in the long run. “Hey,” he said, seemingly catching your eyes fall to your lap, “I meant what I said last night”

“What?” You replied, furrowing your brow

“You’ll never be alone. I’ll always be here for you”

“Thank you,” you smiled, dropping your head on the headrest, “for everything.”

“Any time” he smirked, bringing your hand up so he could kiss it while the two of you drove silently back to his house.

#Matthew Tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk fic #Matthew Tkachuk imagine #Matthew Tkachuk request #Matthew Tkachuk prompt #Song Prompt #Music Prompt #dusk till dawn #dusk till dawn prompt #ZAYN and sia #request #fic request #imagine request #prompt request #song prompt request #masterlist #the other masterlist #hockey #nhl

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grayson1996 · 3 years

Text

You Have to Let Me Go

https://archiveofourown.org/works/34210816

No. 1 All trussed up and still nowhere to go.

"You have to let go" | Barbed Wire |Bound

Unlike what most people assumed, the cave was not usually a quiet place.

How could it be, when each one of Bruce’s children would filter in and out throughout the day and night. To ask questions, to spar, to prepare for patrol. Each inhabitant of the manor came with their own soundtrack that when put together created a familiar and comforting symphony.

Damian was the sound of quiet purposeful footfalls, followed by the scurrying steps of a small animal trailing dutifully after him. He was small huffs of breath made out of annoyance or interest (or amusement if it was a good day). The metallic sound of a sword being drawn out of it’s sheath, followed by the dull thud of it striking one of the many wooden posts in the training area. When Damian first appeared at the Manor he had been like a ghost, gliding along and hiding in the corners of rooms and the sides of hallways. The League believed that their assassins should neither be seen nor heard. The sound was a relief to Bruce, an outward sign of his youngest growth.

Cassandra, like Damian, was taught to be silent. Deadly quiet. And to this day Bruce couldn’t hear her coming and was often spooked by her sudden appearance, much to her amusement. But she too had her own trills. The sound of the skin on her hands rubbing together as they signed to whoever was nearest to her. A breathy chuckle, usually in response to something done by Stephanie or Dick. The awful sound of knuckles cracking striking through the cave. Despite Alfred's reasoning that it would cause arthritis Cass wouldn’t stop and frankly Bruce thought the twitch that appeared above his surrogate Father’s eyes when it happened was hilarious.

Tim was the slurping of coffee, and the rumblings of an empty stomach. He was the quick typing of a keyboard, and the distracting tapping of his foot against the side of the computer console. People thought that Dick was the most fidgety of his children, but it was Tim. Though true that Dick enjoyed moving, his movement was always purposeful. While Tim’s seem to flick out of him sporadically and without much thought. Tim was also the most spatially unaware of his children, though whether that was from lack of grace or just sleep deprivation was anyone’s guess. It wasn’t uncommon to be alerted of his approach by the sound of something being knocked over or of a quiet curse being uttered after stubbing his toe on the stairs.

Jason perhaps contributed to the symphony of the cave the least, though thankfully his presence had become more and more common in the years since his resurrection. The sounds he made were purposeful and designed to annoy. The sound of chips being crunched by an open mouth during a mission report. A scoff at the end of an order or request. And on bad days the sound of arguing, of things being thrown and property being destroyed. But on softer days it was more comforting. The crinkle of a packet of cigarettes in his back pocket being smushed as he leaned against the computer console. Leather rubbing against leather as he crossed his arms. A quiet ‘thank you’ to Alfred after being handed a cup of tea. Or even a softly sarcastic ‘See ya old man’ if Bruce managed to get through an interaction without pissing him off.

All these sounds, these beautiful little noises that told Bruce his children were home, were safe. All of these sounds were gone from the cave. As he sat alone, staring blankly in front of him at the black computer screen. Half dressed in a torn and ripped Batsuit, his cowl and gloves having been discarded at some point. It was a space he hadn’t left for nearing three days much to his family's chagrin and thinly veiled concern. At the end of the first day he had locked them out, pushing back the familiar feeling of guilt as he did so.

He wasn’t sure if he was punishing himself. Perhaps he deserved this, deserved to be denied the comforting presence of his children, and deserved the oppressing quiet? Or perhaps he just didn’t have the energy to get up from this spot, to do anything. Perhaps it was easier to just sit here alone in the dark and quiet, because moving seemed impossible at the moment.

Usually when he sequestered himself away from any stimuli or love, he would be hounded by his thoughts. He would allow them to fester and devour his happiness, and drain him of anything resembling hope. He would allow himself to feel as awful as possible, because he deserved to tear himself up from the inside out.

Now however his thoughts were blank, deafened by the silence as though he were wearing noise cancelling headphones and his thoughts were the outside world. It was all blank, silent, there was nothing except him and his chair and the blank screen in front of him.

Then a warm hand gently placed itself on his shoulder.

“They’re worried about you.” Bruce let out a heavy sigh.

“I know.”

“I’m worried about you too.”

“I’m fine.” A snort of disbelief followed his statement.

“Clearly.”

“Why are you here?” The silence grew again and for a moment the hand began to retreat.

“I can go if you’d like?”

“NO!” Bruce spun around in his chair and reaching out he grabbed the tan hand and held it tightly in his grip. His son raised an eyebrow but did not retreat further.

“Alright I won’t.” Sitting down on the ground next to him, Dick’s gaze did not move from Bruce. “You look like shit.” Despite himself Bruce let out a huff of amusement, and felt warmth as Dick grinned back in triumph. “Seriously, take a shower B and get out of those clothes. You know Alfred’s upstairs dying to get you a proper meal.” Bruce shook his head, his grip tightening around Dick’s hand.”

“I can’t.”

“Sure you can, all you have to do is stand up and put one foot in front of the other.” Bruce shook his head again.

“I can’t leave you.” Dick let out a heavy breath, and his eyes softened at the admission.

“You can’t stay down here forever B.” Bruce felt his chest tighten and his gaze quickly flickered over to the med bay where the curtain was drawn.

“I’m not ready.”

“Bruce-”

“ I’m not ready.” His tone was stern and for a moment Dick’s eyes narrowed, much like they had when the two were younger and always at each other’s throats. When it was just the two of them and neither knew how to be a Father or a Son. But just as quickly Dick’s face smoothed over, changing into something kinder then pity. Empathy perhaps.

“Okay, you’re not ready. But at least let the others down here Bruce. Isolating yourself like this, keeping them locked out and grieving on their own? It’s not kind B, you should all be together.” There was truth in his son’s words but still Bruce couldn’t let himself get up and see his other children. Because to see them, to let them in and to acknowledge what had happened meant that it was over. It meant that Dick was dead, and all that remained was his body now being kept cool in the medbay so that it didn’t begin to decompose.

And if Dick was dead then what the hell did that mean for Bruce, for the rest of them?

Dick was the one to calm Damian down after yet another fight with Bruce. Dick had been the one to soften the boy, raise him even. Damian didn’t deserve to lose the man. Didn’t deserve to lose the kindest person in his life.

Dick was the one to pull Tim away from the computer screen when he was going on his 3rd night of no sleep. To pry his phone out of his brother's hand, and tuck the boy into bed. He was the only one who could get away with treating Tim like a child. He was the only one who could get away with showing Tim love, without the boy recoiling in uncomfortableness.

Dick was the one who brought Jason back. Maybe not back to life but to the family for sure. Dragging the man in after him for a family dinner, pushing Jason to the table and breaking the tension with a quip or bad joke.

Dick was the one who brought Cass to her first dance lesson, and encouraged Stephanie to get her Masters, and got Alfred to take a break and join them for movie nights.

Dick was the one who had given Bruce hope again. Dick was love, Dick was family, Dick was goodness and righteousness and fury and passion. And all of sudden he was gone, with little fanfare or reason. He was just…. gone.

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to do this chum.” Dick shrugged his shoulders, a small smile on his face.

“You just do it Bruce. You just get up and move forward. It sucks and I’m sorry but sitting here alone is only going to make it worse… and it’s only going to make them resent you.” Bruce knew he didn’t deal with death well. It was obvious in the black eye Dick sported after Jason’s death, in his anger after Damian’s. His whole life was built around it, and while he loved what he and his family had created as Batman, part of him hated it as well.

“I’m not a man who can change Dick…. It’s not something I ever learned how to do.” The confession was quiet and Bruce felt uncomfortable by the unusual genuineness of his words. Dick chuckled and shook his head incredulously.

“Of course it takes me dying to finally get you to open up.” The words were said without any scorn but it still caused something heavy to settle in Bruce’s gut. Dick however continued. “You have to grieve Bruce, you can’t push this away and ignore it. You have to let yourself grieve, and you have to let the others do it to. And it will suck and it will be hard and some days you won’t want to say my name because you just can’t . And some days you’ll forget for a moment that I’m not gone, and you’ll go to call me or turn to talk to me and then you’ll remember. And it will hit you like a brick.” Dick smiled sadly at him. “And it will be especially hard because you have lost a lot of people in your life but you haven’t let yourself experience that loss”

“ I can’t do this Dick . I’ll break.” Dick shook his head.

“So you let yourself break. And then you do what anyone who has lost someone does, you put yourself back together.” Dick sat up from the ground and moved to kneel in front of Bruce. Placing both his hands on his Father’s knees. “I can be there for them Bruce you have to be, which means you have to let go. You have to let go of me and let yourself fall, and trust trust that you’ll be able to get back up again.”

Maybe it was because this was all happening in his mind. Maybe it was the sleep deprivation and lack of food and water. Maybe it was because looking at Dick all he could see was the little boy who over 20 years ago first taught him how to actively live life again. Maybe it was the knowledge that the same little boy was now lying several feet away, dead. Whatever it was Bruce knew that he needed to do things differently.

Jason’s death had felt like a punishment. Dick’s felt like a lesson.

“I’ll try Dick… I can’t promise that I’ll do it all right, but I’ll try.” Dick smiled and standing up he pulled Bruce into a deep hug. The arms seemed less real then they had before, but the warmth and love was obvious. “....I’m going to miss you Chum.” A small huff of amusement brushed the top of Bruce's head.

“I love you too B.”

#whumptober2021 #no.1 #you have to let go #batman #fic #dick grayson #bruce wayne

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dis--parity · 3 years

Text

the message.

Summary: Meanwhile, in a hospital in the south of Sweden, a person reduced to a thoughtless shell is filled with new life. Trigger warnings: None. Author’s note: A little bonus chapter that I was excited to get out! It pertains to the final interview file and, well... it’s a pretty big piece of someone’s story.

It’s such a strange, horrible sensation, being trapped in your own body. Motionless, breathless, not even able to blink, not even able to see what little I hear. Days have passed. Or at least, I think they have; all my vision’s a blackout, and I’m quickly losing track of all time. When your eyes aren’t open, when your brain isn’t working right but your ears hear everything around you, it all just seems to melt together. The conversations of the doctors and nurses around me change at the flip of a switch.

I can’t even bring myself to try and count the hours, the days, the months I’ve been out cold. The last sensation stuck in my mind is the impact of a hammer against my arm, my chest, my head. Then, numbness, darkness, oblivion. Absolutely nothing crosses my mind after that. And I can’t even remember how long it’s been this way.

It’s funny. For as long as I can remember, I’ve romanticised the idea of shutting off from the world; to be alone with the imagination without having to concern yourself with the real world. What a dream that must be, I thought. What a unique, astonishing bliss that must provide. Though, now that I lay here, unaware of how long it’s been, where the hell I am, and without even the will to decide whether I should be thankful for, or horrified by this comatose oblivion, something occurs to me.

The lucky ones, I’ve come to realise, are the ones whose mind and body die at the same time.

Will I ever wake up? Or will this mind finally give in and follow suit to my failing faculties? When I think about it enough, it crosses my mind that it probably doesn’t even matter which way that goes; my mind’s been like scrambled eggs for as long as my eyes have been closed, for as long as this ventilator’s been stuck on my mouth and this IV has been in my arm. I can only think of one person right now that would miss me if I slipped quietly past the veil - and they aren’t even here.

I hear a jingle from what I think is right in front of me; there’s a TV in the room. I hear the news come and go from time to time, when my brain decides to tune back into the world around it. I’m guessing it’s in the corner of the room, seeing as I’m in a hospital bed right now. I can at least guess that much. If I ever wake up, maybe I’ll get a nice window view.

Who knows, though? My thoughts and musings about the ray of sunlight I’ll probably never get to see quickly fade away as I’m forced to listen to the the only thing that’s really present in the room. Well, it’s not like I can get up and change the channel anyway, and apparently, I’ve got all the time in the world to absorb whatever this is. Whether I’ll actually retain any of the passing news about politics, science, celebrity gossip and the like, that’s another thing. But this… it seems different to what I’ve heard before. I hear a man delivering a more serious, monotone preamble, but-...

“... as announced earlier, the entirety of the contents of these ‘Haemolife Files’ will now be played on this channel for the purpose of transparency towards the public…” Haemolife.

My body would have jolted, if only it could. Who knows how long it had been since I heard that name? That name of which a single utterance was enough to snap me back into focus. Up ‘til that point, I could feel my grasp on awareness starting to drift...

No.

I snatch my awareness back. I have to. For the first time in God knows how long, I had something to pay attention to. Something I had to try and listen to. The voice of an unfamiliar man talks about his discoveries in a crackly audio recording, and asks a question to someone else he’s apparently with. I don’t catch all of it, I know, and I wasn’t about to get my hopes up, but there was only one person I could think of at that moment.

Gale. Gale. Gale. Please. Please, tell me someone remembered you.

“... why do this? Haemolife was more or less off the radar until that weapons shipment came in.”

“... think that was the point they factored Gale in… had the willpower to defy… didn’t have the same fear Iris did. They knew… they knew she’d blab eventually. Desperate times, maybe.”

...what?

No. There’s no way. There’s no fucking way.

Every part of me was looking out for that name - a mention of her would have craved that phantom hunger my near-lifeless body felt right now. But, oh, did I hear so much more than my failing mind could have expected. She was dead. For the longest time, I thought she was dead. And now, as I’m hearing her voice, saying her name, talking about what she went through… I found my thoughts paralyzed again. It’s too much, this is far too much–

But, no! No! I can’t lose this moment! This might be the only chance I get to know that she’s alive, I can’t let my mind slip again now! My body doesn’t move, but I can practically feel my stomach turn as I try to regain my focus, try to recoil from the shock I heard from that name alone and listen, for God’s sake, listen to what she has to say.

“And the way Rosenfeld took ‘desperate measures’ was to initiate a terrorist attack before you could expose the truth?”

“No - not to take everyone else out. To destroy everyone in the know - myself included. Maybe something changed along the way, maybe they realised your CIA was onto them. Either way… it was the end for all of us.”

“Even the ones cross country… shit. They were prepared for this. Shit… I mean… you told me about your parents. I guess you didn’t leave anyone behind, at least.”

There’s silence for a moment. I wonder if I’m losing awareness again before I hear that familiar sigh through crackling audio. Finally, I heard her speak up again, her voice more shaken than it was before. I don’t know what led to me hearing this, what led to all this being exposed when it had been so long, but it was no less painful for me to listen to her, to be reminded of all that had happened to her, to us. I was starting to wonder if she even remembered who I was, when my answer came to me without me having to ask.

“… we did. Fuck. I did. We… couldn’t even say goodbye. We knew what was happening, and-... we pushed him away. We didn’t want to drag him into this, too.”

“Who?”

“… his name was Alex.“

Me? Me? She remembered, after all this time? I ask the brief silence that’s allowed between me registering my own name and her next sentence how this could even be possible. There’s no reply but the gentle static of the television as she continues speaking.

“He was there for us. If it wasn’t for him, we might not be Garis now.” ‘Garis’? What kind of name is that? Don’t tell me… no. Save that thought for another time.

“He showed us the best of times, and stuck with us in the worst of times. He knew… he knew about what we truly went through, we told him. And he helped us anyway. Loved us anyway. He…” ...what’s that silence for? “They, told me about how their dad used to isolate them socially, stick them to one place, and how they grew jealous of all the other kids who had parents who loved them, parents who took them places instead of keeping them cooped up in their rooms, parents that… didn’t have any agreement between each other to do what they wanted to their children. Together, we figured out ways to fight back against our abusers. I was able to defy the God in the Numbers because of them. Because of their... humanity, that nobody else showed us. Fuck… all that time, we thought we were saving them. But, now we’re together, we realise… they were saving us. If they became a target…”

I hear her sniffle. I feel as if I could cry, but my stupid, stupid body just won’t let me. It won’t let me get up, it won’t let me reach out, call to her, speak to her and tell her that I’m okay, that I’m happy that she’s okay! I wanted her to know, more than anything in the world, that I was thankful for her!

… tell me something,” I hear the other man say. “If there’s something you could say to them right now, if they’re alive, if they could listen... what would it be?” I didn’t want to stop listening to her voice now. If it were me, I know I’d refuse to answer and be out of there, and that’s precisely what I expected from her. We were the same, so I thought. And, hey, they never were the type to wear their heart on their sleeve. But that’s when I heard her again.

“… I’m sorry.”

I’m sorry I couldn’t explain to you what was happening, Alex. But… you saved my life. I wish I knew where you were, and I promise one day we’ll find a way to talk to each other again, someway, somehow, and I’ll tell you, once and for all…

Thank you.”

When I heard those words echoing in my mind, I thought I would break. Shatter like glass on this bed. That I would black out just from hearing her say that, and mean it. It was then that I realised something; for as comatose, unable to act or speak as I was, I was alive.

I’d finally stood up to my dad. It got me where I am now, but it was worth it. When I finally put that bastard in his place, when I made it damn clear that I wasn’t ever going to be a puppet again… I thought of her. I thought of all we’d been through, all she’d taught me. We were just kids, seeking shelter in each other’s misery, but we’d both saved each others’ lives through that. What goes around comes around, I guess.

I want to smile. I want to laugh. I want to scream, I want to cry. I can already feel my mind drifting, her final words echoing in my brain as I slip back into my lack of awareness, the only proof I’ll ever have that the person I once loved and leaned on was alive. Who knows if I’d ever find her again? One thing’s for sure, though, I thought to myself as I drifted through that dark space once more, time losing all meaning in the face of one single, burning objective, my determination already scorching like the sun in my eyes, still forced shut. For as long as it would take for me to get out of here, get back into the world, I carried just one thought; I will wake up from this void, this nightmare. I will live. I will thrive. I’ll be free from the chains that held me down for all those years he stole from me. I will work for myself, and maybe, just maybe… I’ll love again.

I’ll manifest the one thing my dad was right about; I was born for greatness.

And now there’s a world waiting for me that’s worth waking up to. A world with you in it.

Please, for the love of God, wait for me.

However long it takes.

#[REDACTED] The Haemolife Files #{ you thought this was going to be about garis }#{ but it was me! dio-- i mean. Alex! }#{ GOD have i been itching to get this one out }#{ it's an extremely important piece of backstory }#{ and i'm glad to FINALLY publish it }

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spacebatisluvd · 4 years

Text

LUVD

Summary: Adora can read the First Ones’ language. Hordak cannot. (Entrapta has some explaining to do.)

CW: This is fluff with hurt/comfort elements, featuring Hordak’s self-esteem issues, panic attacks, and rage.

A/N: Probably the last drabble I can manage before the final season drops. See you guys on the other side. (Again, I’m sorry for the readmore. I tried. The mobile app is garbage, but I wrote the drabble on my phone, so what are you gonna do?)

[[MORE]]

The alliance had, reluctantly, asked Hordak to come to Bright Moon. An issue had arisen amongst the clones that had decided to settle there—and wasn’t that a wonder? they had decided—and apparently, neither the Queen nor her princesses were able to resolve it, and Swift Wind had, somehow, made the matter worse. Hordak had been somewhat reluctant, as he and Entrapta were in the middle of a time-sensitive experiment, but he had an obligation to go. He was the clones’ ‘cultural ambassador’—or some such nonsense; he hadn’t paid much attention to the title itself—and fulfilling that role was part of his reparations to Etheria. It was hard to go alone, but Entrapta didn’t really need him for the experiment, and she promised to record the whole thing for him to review when he returned.

So he went. While he worked with the clones—who had begun to collectively call themselves ‘Kin’ rather than ‘Horde’—he stayed in Bright Moon’s castle. The Queen insisted it was to honor his status. Hordak was fairly sure it was so they could keep a close eye on him. He was also fairly sure that’s why they had invited the She-Ra—or, rather, her avatar—as well.

He didn’t mind working with Adora. She was intelligent and efficient—and if a small part of him was proud of her conditioning, he certainly wasn’t going to mention that to anyone—but he really didn’t enjoy the way she looked at him at times. Or, rather, the way she looked at the crystal that powered his armor. He often caught her staring at it, and his hand frequently lifted to cover it on its own, before he was conscious of the action. He then felt obliged to clear his throat and do something else with his hand because this was ridiculous and he was making it worse.

He didn’t even know why she was staring, until he was nearly done with his work with the Kin. She was pretending to be busy, while in reality, she was minding him, and Hordak was actually busy, looking over the contested village plans. He sighed, crossing something out and re-writing it elsewhere. “So, how’s it going?” she asked.

He snorted in disgust. “While I am glad that my kindred are starting to form their own personalities and are becoming comfortable seeking out the things they want for themselves, I am afraid they are also going to have to come to understand that the nature of compromise means that they can’t all get what they want all the time. This should not have been as complicated as they made it out to be.”

She laughed a little, the sound shy and unsure. He ignored it; he hadn’t been joking, and he didn’t understand why she thought that was funny. “Yeah. I guess so.” She rocked on her toes a little, and suddenly, she was sidling over, invading his space. He straightened, perturbed by her proximity. She was looking at his crystal again. He clenched his hand to keep from covering it protectively. “How about you? You and Entrapta are...getting pretty close? Right?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I fail to see why that is any of your business. Move—you’re in my light.”

“Oh, sorry.” She stepped aside, though not very far. He gave her another suspicious glare before returning to the plans. “Uh, did Entrapta tell you I could read the First Ones’ language?”

He sighed. He did not engage in ‘small talk’. He didn’t see the point of it, but Entrapta had asked him to be nice, so he would answer the avatar’s vapid questions. “No, she did not. I do not believe she thought it would be relevant.” He said the last word very pointedly, hoping she might take the hint.

She did not. “Oh. Well. I can.” She looked at him very deliberately as she said it. His ears twitched before he returned his attention to the plans.

“How nice for you,” he said, taking care to keep his tone neutral and polite.

“Ugh! Hordak, I can read what your crystal says, okay?!”

Unable to stop himself, he cupped his hand over it. “I have no idea what you mean—it doesn’t say anything.”

Her eyes went wide and her cheeks flushed a deep scarlet. “Oh. She didn’t...tell you...?” She swallowed. “Never mind! My mistake—you’re right, it doesn’t say anything!”

He caught her arm as she tried to leave. “What does it say?” he demanded, looming over her.

“Well. Um. It’s not really a word? It’s letters that sound like a word.” His ears flattened.

“What. Does. It. Say?”

She swallowed. “L-U-V-D.” He narrowed his eyes. “Loved—it says ‘loved’. She really never told you?”

It felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Hordak?”

He pushed her away, hearing the pounding of his hearts echo in his ears. “You’re mistaken.”

“Uh? No? I’m really not. Look, it’s a She-Ra thing; I can—“

“I don’t care!” he snarled, the writing stylus snapping between his fingers. “You are mistaken! It is either an unfortunate acronym or merely a coincidence. Regardless, it doesn’t mean ‘loved’—it doesn’t mean anything!” He straightened, trying to steady his breathing. “And I expect you to keep your ridiculous suspicions to yourself. Do you realize how badly you could damage Entrapta’s reputation by implying—?” He exhaled hard and leveled a hard look at her. “She does not need you wrecking everything she has built.”

The avatar stared back at him with wide eyes. “Have you talked to Entrapta about this?” she asked after a moment.

“There is nothing to talk about.”

“Hordak—“

With a snarl, he dodged her outstretched hand and stormed off. “We’re done.”

“Hordak, wait! Can we just—“

“I said we’re done!”

He returned to the castle, too frazzled to continue his work. He paced in his assigned room, hissing at Imp when he gave a curious chirp. Imp left with an abundance of angry chattering as he sought out more pleasant company. Hordak couldn’t blame him—he knew he wasn’t at his best when he was like this. He’d been working on controlling his temper, but the urge to start breaking things was strong.

He shut his eyes, trying to breathe through the rage. How dare she? How dare she?! Did she realize what such rumors would do to Entrapta? To Dryl? They weren’t some isolated nation—they were at best a city-state and heavily reliant on their trade agreements with their neighbors. Neighbors he had attacked and conquered!

Was this their revenge, then? To use Hordak to ruin Entrapta’s reputation, to destroy her small country’s economy? To play with his emotions, taunting him with—?

One of his vambraces started to spark, shocking him. He ripped it off with a roar and tossed it across the room, his breathing rapid and ragged.

Just then, his communicator started beeping. Entrapta. Something like relief wrapped him. Of course! He should have contacted her immediately! He turned on the monitor, barely waiting for her features to resolve when he said, “Good; we have something to discuss.”

“Oh. Yeah. Adora called me and—“

“I think we can get ahead of the rumors if we—“

“—said she told you about—“

“—form a plan. We’ll need to re-affirm your trade agreements—“

“Wait. Trade agreements?”

He nodded, glad she was listening. He started to pace as he laid out his plan. “Yes! You need to ratify your agreements, strengthen the bonds with your closest allies.” He beat one fist against his unarmored palm. “We have some inventions that might be useful to the others as well, things that other kingdoms can use. If we produce blueprints, show them how to—“

“Hordak.”

“—make them, we can endear ourselves to some of the kingdoms that—“

“Hordak.”

“—would be particularly upset by these rumors.” He hesitated. “You ought to...start seeing suitors.” It felt like his chest was being compressed. “That would certainly quell any rumors of—“

“Hordak.”

“—of impropriety.”

“Hordak!”

He looked at the monitor. “What?”

“Will you take a breath?” He blinked. “Just. A deep breath. Like this—“ She inhaled. Through pursed lips, as if trying to keep the air in, she said, “And hold it.”

Not sure why she’d ask this of him but trusting her nonetheless, he filled his lungs and held his breath. Entrapta nodded. “Good. That’s good. Now exhale real slow—like this.” She demonstrated, and he mimicked her.

“What was the purpose of that?”

“To calm you down. You were panicking.”

“I do not panic!”

“Why don’t you take another deeeep breath?”

“I DO NOT NEED TO BREATHE!” She raised a brow, and his words caught up to him. “Perhaps, you aren’t...incorrect.”

“You think?” He shot her a look, but let her walk him through some more breathing exercises. Finally, it felt like the band of steel wrapping his chest had loosened. Smiling fondly, Entrapta said, “Okay. Why don’t we try this again? Adora called me. She said she told you what the crystal says.”

“Yes. I’m concerned. Our...working relationship is bound to spark rumors, regardless of whether or not the She-Ra’s keeps her suspicions to herself. It’s something we should have considered before, as it will likely have broader effects on your kingdom.”

She started to play with her hair. “O-oh. So. You...don’t...? You don’t mind that it says ‘LUVD’? You aren’t...? Confused? Or...?”

He waved that off. “Entrapta, I know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s not as if you wrote it—“

“I did.”

“You?”

“Wrote it.”

“Oh. Well. I’m sure you didn’t mean—“

“I did.”

He blinked. It felt like he was drifting. Like his body was no longer tethered by gravity. “‘Loved’? You meant? That?”

She nodded, then smiled weakly. “Um. Yeah.”

“Oh.” He sat heavily on the bed. “I.” He touched the crystal.

“I didn’t really mean for you to find out. Definitely not like this. I figured that maybe if....” She lowered her welding mask.

“If?”

“I would have told you. If I thought you returned my feelings.” Her hair rubbed at her upper arm.

“I—“ His tongue felt thick. Cumbersome. His breathing was shallow and too fast. “What if. I did?”

She lifted her mask, eyeing him. “Is this just a thought experiment? Or...?”

He swallowed. “I have. Reason to be invested in your answer. What if I returned your feelings?” He couldn’t believe what he was saying, couldn’t believe he was allowing himself to entertain the idea that Entrapta.

Loved.

Him.

“Well.” She rolled the word around, tasting it. Her mouth quirked in a small smile. “We’d probably need to implement some of your ideas to keep our trade agreements in place. And.” She held onto her hair, combing one lock with her fingers. “Maybe go on a date?”

He just stared at the screen. Stunned. He swallowed, ears lowered. “I think I will ask if they can manage the rest without me. I would like to return home and continue this conversation in person.” He looked down. “I believe I will also offer an apology to the She-Ra.”

“Yeah. I think I might owe her a thank you.”

Entrapta smiled at him, and he nodded his agreement, rendered mute by the weight of his feelings.

His fingers traced over the crystal af his throat.

LUVD.

He was.

Loved.

(And he loved in return.)

#hordak #entrapdak #entrapta #hordapta #spop #Entrapta really doesn’t care about politics #Hordak super does though #he takes care of the details of running a kingdom #so his wife has more time for science #fight me #longpost #long post

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ace-oreos · 3 years

Note

For prompts, I would like to think that after ventress took off in the ship that had alpha on it, she just kind of left, leaving him on some planet far from the rest of the galaxy. So hes alone, probably injured, and not anywhere close to the GAR or even the separatists. Does he try to get home? Does he just live wherever he is? Whats he thinking now that he's absolutely on his own? Anything with stranded Alpha is 100%

I finally got some inspiration for this one and ran with it, to put it lightly. I’m fairly pleased with how this came out, but I might revisit at some point and rewrite some parts of it.

I’d call this vaguely AU-ish but technically canon compliant.

Please be aware that I have virtually no medical knowledge and more or less came up with it as I went along. But I tried to make it reasonable, so there’s that.

It’s been two years since Alpha-17 has had contact with anyone from the Republic, eighteen months since he took his first steps after the fight with General Grievous, and fifteen since Asajj Ventress dropped him in a backwater town on a planet light-years that’s closer to Wild Space than the Outer Rim.

It’s the sort of town where nobody is anybody and everyone knows someone, about as far from the Republic and the Core as any standard starship can handle. The planet doesn’t even have a name as far as Alpha knows, which suits him fine.

In fact, it’s so isolated from the rest of the galaxy there is no talk of the war. Folks seem more concerned with getting by than invasion from hostile forces. The town - if it even qualifies as such - has been falling apart since the day it was built, or so its quaint citizens like to claim. People keep to themselves here and don't ask questions, which is just as well.

All in all, it’s a far cry from the life he’d known. But it’s for the best; the life he’d known and the person he’d been seem stranded behind an impenetrable veil. Most days it doesn’t take much to convince himself there is no way to reclaim what he’s lost.

(What happened to you? Alpha thinks when restlessness and uncertainty set in despite himself and sleep eludes him.)

(Uncertainty where there was once conviction, hesitation in place of tenacity, desolation rather than something like hope.)

The sparring matches are hardly anything to brag about - a collection of untrained, undisciplined freighter pilots and merchants who don’t have much else to occupy their time after selling hours - but even now he finds himself unable to stay in one place for long.

(Stay in motion, keep looking forward, and maybe it will bring him back.)

It doesn’t take much negotiating to get himself in the ring. His performance would appall even the youngest cadets in Tipoca, but here - a town that doesn’t exist - it’s enough to get him in on the action he sorely missed.

They don’t know his name. It doesn’t matter, really. For the first time he’s beginning to see who he might be outside of the war.

(It’s not what Alpha wants for himself, but what choice does he have?)

__________________

His opponent isn’t much older than him, brash and eager to prove himself. He moves in an over exaggerated way that plainly suggests he doesn’t consider Alpha to be much competition.

But Alpha has ample experience in cutting opponents down to size, and as they circle each other, he feels a rush of confidence. It may not come close to taking on a platoon of battle droids or going toe-to-toe with a Gen’Dai bounty hunter, but it’s enough to spark the energy he’s been lacking.

He lets the kid make the first move. True to his intuition, the first pass is a poorly planned head-on charge that only requires a neat sidestep to avoid. His opponent stumbles past, leaving himself completely open to an attack from behind, but Alpha isn’t in the mood to end this quickly. Now that he’s begun to recover his old spirit, he wants to see how far he can go.

The kid seems baffled when Alpha doesn’t make a move. It’s clear he’s accustomed to the usual uncoordinated exchange of blows from hotheaded opponents. Alpha doubts he’s ever gone up against a rival with any semblance of proper training, let alone an ARC trooper.

His opponent makes another valiant attempt to knock him off balance. Alpha shifts his weight without moving his feet and sends the kid to the floor. There’s jeers and calls for him to finish it then and there, but Alpha doesn’t waver. He knows exactly what he’s doing, and no nat-born freighter pilot from the shebs end of the galaxy is going to get in his head.

The kid has grit if nothing else; he’s pushed himself to his feet again and assumed what passes as a defensive stance. It’s enough of an invitation for Alpha to take the offensive. He doesn’t miss the flash of fear in the kid’s eyes, and it’s with a sense of satisfaction that he plants one foot to lunge towards his adversary -

But his leg collapses with the motion. Alpha is sent sprawling, palms scuffing the floor in his effort to redirect before he loses his balance entirely. His body refuses to cooperate, and for one terrifying moment he’s unable to push himself to his feet.

This wasn’t supposed to happen!

It can’t be much more than a handful of seconds, but a range of emotions sear through him so fast he can hardly distinguish between them. Fear and humiliation overpower the rest, but it’s the overwhelming sense of vulnerability that drives him to his feet.

Alpha prepares to launch another attack - this will end on his terms one way or another. But the kid knows where he’s weak now and gets behind him, aims for his legs. Alpha whirls, but between that and the jarring kick delivered to his knee, he’s soon on the ground once again.

Caught between fury - at himself more than his opponent, who had simply recognized his chance and taken it - and disbelief, Alpha doesn’t bother trying for one last strike.

Wouldn’t Fett be proud, he thinks savagely a while later, gritting his teeth as he cleans the dirt and blood from his arms. One of his own, getting his shebs handed to him light-years away from the Outer Rim. An ARC trooper at his best.

He’s torn from his thoughts by a man dressed in a ragged flight suit clapping him on the shoulder. “No shame in it,” he says bracingly. “Happens to all of us at some point.”

Alpha shrugs him off. “To you, maybe.”

They don’t know who he is, and he can’t help thinking it’s a relief after tonight’s disgrace.

“You’re not half bad,” the man assures. “Just off your game, I’d say.”

“Thanks for the assessment,” Alpha grumbles.

The man peers at him. “Skills like that, you must’ve been someone before you wound up here.”

Alpha hesitates before admitting, “I was a soldier for a while.”

“That so? We heard about a war from time to time, but nothing ever reached us here,” the man says thoughtfully.

Alpha still finds it hard to wrap his mind around that: people going about their lives without any indication that the rest of the galaxy was being torn to shreds.

“I wouldn’t know,” he mutters.

He pushes through the door and into the night. The air is heavy with rain here, clinging to his skin and lodging in his throat when he breathes in. Even the lights from ships passing overhead are dimmed by the thick fog that hangs over the town.

His legs burn the further he walks, but Alpha continues on anyways. He’s not ready for everything to catch up with him just yet.

Is that what you’re doing, then? Running away?

He grimaces at the thought. Two years ago the very suggestion would be enough to provoke him; it’s not any less piercing now, but there’s too much truth in it for him to be angry.

Why are you so afraid? he wants to know. You get hurt once and you’re done?

(It’s more than that, but Alpha doesn’t have the energy to delve deeper.)

Just let go of the fear. It’s not doing you any favors.

(If only it was that easy.) ___________________________

It’s an arduous process, but Alpha thinks he might learn to adjust to this new life.

The medics can only do so much for an injury inflicted by a lightsaber; he’s come to accept that. It’s a blow to his pride, but he’s resolved to make something of the situation. Feeling sorry for himself won’t get him anywhere.

So he learns to live with the wound, with the loss of independence that comes with it. It’s unlikely he’ll ever see field service again, but a soldier is more than his skills.

Stranger than his new way of life is the presence of Asajj Ventress.

He doesn’t trust her - can never trust her, not after Rattatak - but she seemed sincere in her renouncement of the Dark Side of the Force. She leaves him to his devices for the most part; whether it’s an effort to put him at ease or unconscious avoidance, he can’t say for sure.

But it’s a small ship. When they do cross paths, there’s little conversation between them. Alpha hasn’t discounted her as a threat, and she knows it. So he’s taken aback when she approaches him one day.

He meets her gaze squarely, not bothering to conceal the knife on his belt. He may not be fully recovered from his ill-fated fight with General Grievous, but he can still take down an enemy in a number of ways.

“You’re looking better,” she says, watching him carefully.

He won’t let her go that easily. “Time was you’d have slit my throat if it served your purposes.”

“That was a different time.” She looks away, and an expression he can’t quite decipher crosses her face. “I was a different person.”

“No, you weren’t. But the circumstances were different,” Alpha allows.

She lapses into silence. Then she takes a deep breath. “You know I can heal you.”

It’s Alpha’s turn to look away. “I don’t need your help.”

She moves as if to put a hand on his arm but pulls back before she brushes his skin. “Let me try.” _____________________

Alpha jolts awake in a cold sweat. The image of Grievous towering over him, lightsabers poised to strike, fades as he tries to steady his breath.

He pushes himself up with a sigh. He’s woken from such dreams too often lately to be optimistic about falling asleep again.

Alpha straps a knife to his hip and makes his way outside to resume his earlier wanderings. It can’t be much later than 0300; the streets are empty, and even the incoming freight traffic has slowed.

He chooses a route out of the town. The area is surrounded by a range of low-rising mountains, so he sets his sight on the nearest peak. It won’t be easy on a half-healed body, but maybe that will be enough to distract him from his thoughts for a while.

The sun has risen by the time he reaches the summit. The town looks impossibly small from here - it would be swallowed by the likes of Coruscant or Tipoca City. He suspects even the smallest outposts on Mandalore are livelier.

I can’t stay.

It’s no good letting himself drift further and further away from the Republic. He serves no purpose here; even if the Republic is rotting from the inside out, he belongs with his brothers.

I’ll find a way back.

Alpha gazes out at the town, and for the first time he feels a glimmer of hope. Getting out of here won’t be an easy task, but he has a goal now. And although he can’t say for sure what awaits him, he's determined to meet it.

Adapt and overcome.

Cin vhetin.

#alpha-17 #alpha 17 #asajj ventress #the clone wars #star wars #fic prompt #thanks for the prompt!#i hope it's something like what you wanted #feel free to send more!

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patricia-von-arundel · 4 years

Text

Mother’s Day

Summary: A new marriage, a new life, even a new name - and a new stepson. Deprived of Edelgard, Anselma - now Patricia - tries to come to terms with the new child dropped into her life: Dimitri.

Rating: G

Set in the same 'verse as A World on Its Side.

I started this story *for* Mother's Day, and then got distracted writing other things. Better late than never, right?

As always, for @lysissisyl, who knows why.

Also on AO3

Edelgard was the only child she'd ever really known - and how to judge, from only one, and only so briefly, any sort of notion of what children in general were like, or should be like? It was no true frame of reference, even if it had been possible to consider Edelgard without any bias at all. Which it was not. And never would be.

Fierce - that was the word for Edelgard. Tiny and tenacious and hopelessly stubborn, even before she had words, only the most flailing attempts at control, determined to make her presence and her specific desires clear, through whatever nascent means her own development had, thus far, seen fit to bestow upon her. And while Anselma could claim no prior knowledge, she, then, cradled within herself the blooms of pride from Ionius' doting. And he had been doting.

Once.

Doting, but if he'd had even a few drops of the ferocity that was in Edelgard...

Well - he had not. And he did not. But he had possessed far greater stores of knowledge of the path of early childhood - a thought now tinged with aching bitterness - than Anselma had, or would likely ever have. If he found precocity in Edelgard's determined attempts to make herself understood, then there must be more to it than merely blind pride?

Irrelevant, now. As irrelevant as the promises he had made; as irrelevant as her own blinders, even as she had pretended to have endemic talent: some natural, inherent gift for playing a game in which she had never accepted the rules. Ionius was not the only foolish one - just a fool with more unearned clout.

He was gone now. Likely for good. And she knew nothing of the wives, of the children.

Of Edelgard.

She told herself not to think about it. Even before leaving the Empire, she had known it was best to try to forget.

But what was best, and what was possible, might be two very different things.

Especially with the little prince darting in and out of daily life like some frightened scrap of a kitten.

Whether he was a normal child, she could not say.

But he was nothing like Edelgard.

he was introduced to her formally, with the same coldness that seemed to have seeped from the air of Faerghus and into the souls of its people. The man she had married was a stranger to her, and she to him, so perhaps a certain frost was not unexpected between them. But the way he spoke to his son - of his son - seemed also to carry almost no warmth at all.

"Boy," he said - and the little one, a spitting image in miniature, stepped obediently forward. His eyes found hers only briefly, before he ducked his head to a bow, and remained there. "My son, the Crown Prince Dimitri. Dimitri, your new stepmother."

And that was all. Non words exchanged between them. Another land, and still more walls, and Anselma knew no way to scale them. Instead, she knew now all that could be lost if she attempted again, and still failed.

More than a month had passed, since the hurried formalities of a wedding, and a single, passionless night of necessary consummation. She had seen Cornelia more often than her new husband, and still had no promised answers to other question she had asked before agreeing to leave Enbarr - to leave Edelgard. She told herself to practice patience. She nurtured that anger that seemed to have always smoldered within her - feeding it slowly, carefully. Stoking it.

Fire could be a dangerous weapon.

And none seemed inclined to pay hers any mind.

Not yet. Not yet...

If they would not tell her the rules, what could prevent her from breaking them?

"Say nothing of Edelgard." Whispered words, but with an almost frightened, harsh ferocity she had rarely, if ever, heard from her brother's oft-simpering lips. She would not deny that something was badly amiss within the Empire, and his sudden fear only confirmed as much. "She would never be safe, even under Lambert's protection. I will see to her safety - I swear it by the Goddess, and Seiros, and all the Saints above."

She had done as told. But the Goddess? Seiros, the Saints? What would they do, to protect one girl?

Nothing - as they always did. Nothing at all.

If anyone in the Empire harmed Edelgard, it would not be the Goddess they would need to concern themselves with.

But until then - she had said nothing, and she would say nothing. She was not even certain Lambert was aware of her relationship to one of the small herd of Imperial children; there had never been official union between Hresvelg and Arundel, and though he knew she had spent a lifetime as "Anselma," she had never heard him call her anything but "Patricia." And she had no idea what tales might have been woven concerning her own provenance by Volkhard and those in the Kingdom seeking his continued favor. Once again, as always, she was a pawn to their minds.

And best forgotten when the game required no sacrifice.

She kept herself to herself, now in cold, unfamiliar, unforgiving Fhirdiad. It was not hard, when she hardly saw or spoke to anyone but the taciturn castle staff, who were all but silent even amongst themselves as they delivered meals, laid out fresh clothing, or turned down blankets and tamped the fires to warm embers each night. Even the Arundel lands were lively when to compared to dour Fhirdiad.

But sometimes she wondered...

She had champed and strained against her own childhood reins. So what of growing up somewhere even more stiff, and quiet, and cold?

Boy.

The motherless little crown prince. The skittish kitten of a creature. She caught glimpses of him, but he spoke no more than formal, necessary greetings, always with that extended bow she was beginning to believe spoke as much of a shy nature as a polite one. He was almost of an age with Edelgard. She resisted, though, the inclination to compare them.

But not as successfully as she might have claimed, had anyone asked. (Which, of course, no one did.)

He had no ferocity to him - none at all. He seemed, if anything, so docile that it seemed some colossal jape to name him heir to a household, much less an entire kingdom. His build was study enough, but there was still about him an air of fragility, and the same seemed to reflect in his eyes, as wide and cloudless and blue as the sky on the first perfect day of summer. There was assuredly sweetness to him - but sweetness such as his was dangerous. Dangerous to himself - and dangerous to his future rule.

In that, she had another comparison: not Edelgard.

Ionius.

Perhaps that, more than thoughts of Edelgard, led her to distance herself from him. Sweetness, weakness: his own life was not her concern. The Kingdom was not her concern. Her concern was herself, and her daughter, and if for the moment she had no power to guarantee protection for either of them, she would at least do nothing that risked jeopardizing them further. This soft, sweet, sad boy was nothing to her, and should King Lambert drop dead tomorrow, she would be nothing to this boy. It was safer for both of them.

But she could not pretend she did not notice his presence - particularly when it was often the only one besides her own. Or maybe it was simply a consequence of all the time she had spent alone, these last few years. Time when there should have been a child... though she could not imagine Edelgard ever skulking so.

She could feel him watching; hear the soft scuffling of his boots against the stone flooring, or an occasional sniffle or sigh. But she kept her gaze pointedly on whatever task lay before her - she saw no reason to draw more of his attention, and what purpose would it serve to let him know she was aware of his presence? It would only embarrass him. He was spooked too easily already, poor thing.

Beyond that first month - how long did this strange little act continue? Time seemed to grow increasingly nebulous, the longer she spent in Faerghus. The seasons never seemed to change, one cold, blustery, white-skied day bleeding endlessly into another. She kept track of when it was, as she did every year, but not how long it had been; there was already sufficient past to be mourned. The day it was: that was to light a candle for Edelgard's birthday.

She would be ten, soon.

The Garland Moon in Enbarr was a beautiful month, warm and sunny without yet the wet, oppressive heat of late summer. In Fhirdiad, she suspected things would not change much between this moon and the next. Maybe that was why the boy was about so much of the time; Lambert had said he was often out with friends, but maybe that was on a rare warmer day. Or maybe his father paid as little mind to his son as he did to his new wife.

The thought occurred to her on one of those endless, bleed-along days - then gripped, refused to let go. She had assumed the boy was merely bored and curious about this new addition to his life, but what if...

What if he was lonely?

It brought her back to how little she knew about the ways of children. She could not imagine Edelgard quietly putting up with being bored or lonely; she would make entertainment, or demand it be made for her. But was that some prerequisite of very small children - would Edelgard be the same way now?

Because it also took Anselma back to her own memories of childhood. Her own loneliness. And her own isolation.

She had always thought Edelgard much like her - far more like her than like Ionius. But in considering Dimitri's loneliness, she felt, for the first time, a blossom of kinship. When she felt his eyes, she now looked very pointedly elsewhere, and made broader movements: sewing or reading was hardly still likely anything interesting to watch, but there was no harm in trying to make it so.

She considered speaking to him - she wanted, more and more, to speak to him - but after so long, she wasn't sure how, nor even, truly, if such a thing would be acceptable. She could recognize the absurdity of it - a woman almost 30 years old, and unsure of whether she could talk to her own stepson! - but the concern was nonetheless there. If such a thing was allowed, why had Dimitri still said so little to her? Too many bedtime stories of wicked stepmothers?

(That made her smile, to think of - and she could not remember the last time she had done so. It was nice to know a smile might still come unbidden.)

Perhaps she was no longer as impetuous as the girl she had once been. perhaps Dimitri was bolder and braver than she had given him credit for. Or perhaps it was some combination of both - but whatever it was, in the end, the strange wall that had grown between them was brought down not by her, but by Dimitri.

Dimitri, and the first time he reminded her of Edelgard.

Her liing quarters in the castle were a set of three small rooms on the third floor - the newer part of the hulking, ancient monolith squatting over Fhirdiad like some immense, ugly, judgmental toad. The inside was hardly much better; she missed the privacy and simplicity of the cottage in Enbarr, and even the familiar confines of the Arundel manor house, with its fug of peat fires and faint aroma, always, of damp thatch and wool and leather. Still, she appreciated the semblance of privacy, especially of the bedroom; she was not so naive as to believe it truly her own, but also aware of hos much less it might be, and how little recourse she would have if it was.

Just outside her bedroom was the small parlor where she took her meals, and next to it the study where she spent much of her time; it had a large, modern window, and she had dragged one of the more comfortable parlor chairs in there, to take advantage of what natural light there was by which to read or sew. The castle staff left breakfast in the parlor each morning, but never went into the study except when she was awake and elsewhere, so that they might dust or tidy. It was otherwise left alone - or so she had always believed.

Which meant it came as a surprise, one bitter early morning of the Harpstring Moon, to find muddy footprints leading across the parlor, and into the study. Small prints - but she could not imagine one of the servants, even a very young one, not only going into the study instead of quietly placing tea and cakes down and leaving, but also ignoring the trail of wet muck left in their wake. Anselma ignored the tray of breakfast - she followed the prints.

There was a cup on the windowsill. Nothing unusual about it - it was just like the one she had passed not a minute earlier, left for her tea. But there was more dirty and tiny clods of mud around it, and the toes of the footprints before the sill were deep and well-defined, as if the person who stood there had had to raise themselves on tiptoe to do their curious job.

The cup held flowers.

Or rather - unopened blossoms. Roses, by the smell of them - and by the smooth-silk coolness of the curled petals, when she reached to touch them. They'd been left in a meager splash of mud-darkened water; the stems were hacked off in jagged, uneven strands of green. Pink and yellow blossoms - they were the brightest thing she had seen in a very, very long time.

But why were they here?

Edelgard...?

The overgrown back garden of their home in Enbarr, before Edelgard was taken for good: she had loved that meager patch of land. The grass, the uneven hedges, the insects and the tiny frogs that came each summer, out of the stream that separated their house from the rolling fields beyond.

She picked the wildflowers - tiny things, like Edelgard herself, but just as determined to find a place to call their own, to take root and push their way up, through the soil, around stocky blades of grass or into narrow cracks in the paving stones. A deadly-serious job, as Edelgard took it, to gather up those flowers. She made piles on the stones, separating them by color: a red pile; a blue one; yellow and white. Carefully easing them more tightly together. She spent whole mornings at her slow, methodical work. It was a marked difference from her usual behavior, when she ran hither and yon, outside or in, nothing able to capture her attention for more than a fleeting few minutes at a time.

They had pressed the flowers - some of them. Anselma showed her how, and Edelgard took this, too, very seriously: biting her lip and squinting at the pages before her, trying to decide the best place for each little bloom. They used a book of hagiographies, a gift from Volkhard, the largest book Anselma had in her possession - and she felt a little spark of an adolescent-esque rebellious pleasure, wondering what he would say of this use of a religious text.

It wasn't as if Edelgard could read it.

Flowers...

And small footprints on the floor.

Don't be absurd.

A sudden, surprised little noise behind her - followed almost immediately by a sloshing crash.

When she turned, blue eyes met hers with no sign of bowing away - just wide, frightened shock. Dimitri's cheeks were red, his hair in its usual long muss, his buttons uneven, and his boots - his very small, mud-caked boots - now splashed and shiny with the contents of the bowl of water he had dropped. In his left hand, he held a cloth.

He blinked at her, as if for a moment he had lost track of who she was, or perhaps where he was. Then - it seemed almost inevitable - came the bow, though it was hurried and sloppy, with none of his usual careful politeness. "I... I ask your apology, Stepmother. I did not realize you were awake, or... I would not have come in. Without knocking. Though I... I already did. I ask your apology for that, as well. I'm sorry. I will see it all cleaned up. Myself."

Dimitri had created such chaos? Dimitri had... left flowers for her?

For a long moment, she could find no words, and no thoughts but those. Dimitri had straightened once more - his eyes still afraid, but his face and demeanor patient, waiting. Whether such was normal in a child of his age, she could not say, but just then, she was certainly appreciative of the time allowed to attempt to gather herself.

"May I help you?" she finally asked.

Now, it seemed his turn to merely stare. "But... I was the one who made the mess. Why would you... wish to help me?" It was the most emotion she had ever heard from him: his tone still measured and polite, but not tinged, as much his expression was, with what seemed honest befuddlement.

Was it truly so alien to him, to have someone offer him help?

"Because I'd like to," she said.

Again, Dimitri stared. Then - another bow. But not quickly enough: she had already seen how he started to smile.

"I'll get more water," he said, "And... I thank you, Stepmother."

As soon as he was gone from sight, she could hear the slap of his boots, as he started to run.

She waited for a moment, still and silent, then went to prepare the tea. She should she might like to offer it to him.

#anselma #anselma von arundel #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #a world on its side #mentioned edelgard #mentioned a whoooooooole lot

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appleseverywhere · 4 years

Note

follow up questioooon. i loved your answer from my last ask hihi the who broke it off question. your answer actually made sense and I see that happening tbh. Now, follow up question, how do you think qrow coped and "moved on" after the break up? and winter too, how did she cope and "move on"? any idea how theyre going to "reconcile" if thats ever gonna happen because i havent seen them in the v8 trailer (dear god why)

I’m going to put in some headcanons I really wish would happen for this coming volume then hahaha This might sound like some short fic btw since I’m probably going to get carried away with it hahaha (I’m making a one-shot on this so I’ll have it posted soon. Think of this as the plot summary HAHA)

Qrowin Coping/Moving On (Post break-up) & V8 Reconciliation

Qrow’s coping/moving on

The way I see it is that Qrow is going to end up back to his alcoholic self (not really surprised there even if that could have been the reason they broke up in the first place). It’s cause its practically all he’s known from the start. He never had a healthy way of coping with loss, and with Winter and him splitting up, it just seemed to prove to him that he wasn’t someone worth loving.

Disappointingly, he’s going to hook up with girls at some point, just to feel what used to be there only to end up with the emptiness that Winter had left him. He’d go through the same routine of drinking at a bar, having a one-night stand, and regretting it just as quickly as it starts. He wants to stop. He knew it wasn’t right. It didn’t feel right knowing he was still in love with Winter. When he starts convincing himself to leave, he scolds himself, saying that she’s already gone and that it was pointless to resist. The night will continue on and before the sun rises, he’ll leave just before anyone could suspect, with a lot of guilt hanging on his shoulders.

He’ll stop when it gets too much. Eventually, he’ll go to Ozpin for more missions and immerse himself in fulfilling them. He wouldn’t care if he’d get wounded, and he’d let whatever rage and frustrations he had pent up out through his attacks towards the grimm. He wouldn’t look forward to going back, knowing that no one was waiting for him. It adds to his feelings of no one wanting him. He’d keep it all in mind as he purposely puts himself in more danger as he goes on a grimm slaughter spree.

Winter’s coping/moving on

I can see Winter immersing herself into work just as Qrow would. She wouldn’t dare acknowledge the aching pain she felt at losing the one person who genuinely cared for her besides Weiss, the one person who would tell her that her feelings were valid. Without that reminder, she would isolate herself like she had done many times before. She wouldn’t let them show, and she would try to escape them in any way she could.

She would ask Ironwood if he had more tasks for her. The paperwork on her desk had piled up to the point it had been much taller than she was. She claimed more responsibilities just to stay in the base for longer hours. By the time she retired to her room, she’d be too exhausted to let the emotions surface. If that wasn’t the case, she would bring her work with her, writing and organizing them the whole night until she tired herself enough that she knew she wouldn’t end up staring at the ceiling in thought once she lied down.

Per her request, she had asked the general for more missions, and she made sure to avoid Vale and Mistral, knowing he was likely there. Most of her missions were in the deserts of Vacuo or the tundras of Atlas and higher north in Solitas. She would let the intense climate get to her so that she’d focus on it instead of the nagging thoughts in her mind. The only time she would ever relieve her anger and sadness was when she came face to face with hoards of grimm, quickly activating her semblance to zoom through them with one swipe. She’d leave behind what she could in the wind, before turning back to slay more of them, letting her immerse herself as she escaped.

Qrow and Winter Reconcile

I saw this going 3 ways:

In Qrow’s jail cell

In Winter’s hospital room

On the battlefield

So let me expound on this.

In Qrow’s jail cell

We know that Winter was severely injured at the end of V7, so it’s either she makes a quick (but not full) recovery and heads down to the cell, or that before she gets treated, she demands to go see Qrow.

He would be incredibly surprised and concerned to see her in such a state, maybe not even bother to hide it. He had already lost Clover, and while that was all happening, it sent a shiver down his spine to know she almost suffered the same fate. She would likely ask him what exactly happened with Clover and Tyrian, and I get the feeling that she would trust him anyway with whatever he told her. He wouldn’t need to use Robyn’s semblance to prove his innocence cause Winter already knew Qrow wouldn’t lie.

Much to his surprise, she’d let him out, not finding him guilty for his crimes, and more importantly, gave him instructions to find team RWBY and keep her sister safe. She would tell him that he better came back cause they still had to talk later, marking a silent promise. Qrow would be hesitant to leave her alone, but the determination in her eyes pushed him to leave, but not before asking her to promise him she would stay alive.

In Winter’s hospital room

Maybe Qrow would be able to get out of the jail cell (he can turn into a bird, after all) knowing his nieces are out there with Salem’s forces at large. As he leaves Atlas, he hears of a certain special operative who nearly got killed and was currently admitted in the med bay. He makes a quick stop to find her resting and half asleep. She wakes up to his footsteps, expecting the general but is dumbfounded to see him beside her bed.

He asks her what happened and she couldn’t seem to say what she was feeling at all, lost and disappointed in herself for failing. He would secure her doubts somehow, in a very Qrow way of course. Not at all cheesy and all that crap. Winter looks to him for security at that moment, and similar to the previous scenario tells him he should leave before anyone catches him. She grabs his hand as she tells him to protect her sister for her and that he had better make it back alive. To her.

He laughs once before squeezing her hand, telling her to stay safe and to recover well, before running off and out of the academy.

On the battlefield (ah yes, this very spontaneous short fanfic - I might post an actual full oneshot of this later on)

After Qrow and Robyn escaped their jail cell and Winter made a speedy recovery (likely Ironwood requesting to put her in an aura restoration chamber to hasten the replenishing process), they found themselves on opposite ends of the battlefield. Ironwood had instructed Winter to catch and arrest them, warning her not to disobey orders again nor fail for a second time. She was conflicted and Qrow could tell from the moment their swords clashed. He wanted nothing more than to talk to her, reason with her. She was more sensible than Clover was, and he knew that well.

As the fight ensues, she comes off strong, stronger than he remembered. He realized that it's her rage and pent up anger. It had always been her way of getting some weight off her shoulders, and he used to help when he could. It was why they fought all the time, why they were always so physical. It became their unspoken love language, and the way they moved alone spoke volumes.

Neither of them backed down with their strikes, nor did they seem intent on hurting the other as it went. The rest of the ace ops and team RWBY had already found themselves elsewhere in the midst of the battle, yet they found themselves within each other’s close proximities alone in the vast field of snow. Their aura’s had long broken, and that made them all the more careful with each hit they sent. Winter was already slouching in her posture and Qrow’s breathing had grown ragged.

It didn’t take long before he was able to knock the sabre from her hand and she stood with lidded eyes against his blade, almost daring to him to finish her. She pushed her neck against it further with an impassive face, waiting. Despite the dead expression, her eyes betrayed whatever she hoped to convey. Tinged with longing and sorrow, she almost begged him to kill her.

But he couldn’t. He never would.

Dropping his sword to the snow, he grabbed her shoulders and pulled her into his embrace. For the first time since she had left the Schnee manor, her emotions had broken from its dam and flooded out in waves of tears against his chest, soaking his vest. He could feel her sobs wrack through her body and only held onto her tighter.

All he could do was mutter repeated apologies as she held onto him like a lifeline. Whether it was because of what happened between them or the reason they had to fight in the first place, he didn’t know. She whispered her own apologies, clutching onto him as she hid her face from his view.

Before he could say anything else, she pushed him with what strength she had left, telling him to run. With Salem in search of the relics and the maiden, there was no other option but to let him go. For the sake of Atlas and Remnant. She wouldn’t be able to stop her on her own, not with the general breathing down her neck, but he and her sister’s team could. As she collapsed on the snow, she screamed for him to leave while he could. He could only nod as he watched her walls crumble. He understood what needed to be done, but he couldn’t just leave like this.

He knelt before her fallen form, moving the hair from her face as he kissed the skin of her forehead, silently promising to return to her. Her eyes fluttered to a close at the contact and kept it that way until she heard the familiar flapping of his wings gradually soften before disappearing into the sky. Her hands grasped at the snow beneath them as she called out, demanding him to stay alive after all of it.

...

Okay, I honestly did not expect to write that last bit but now I really want to continue it HAHAHA Anyway, I was planning to write several oneshots this weekend so I’ll have them posted soon.

Hope these answered your questions!! :)

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ashleyswrittenwords · 4 years

Text

Of Gods and Goddesses (I)

Note: This is my take on how Hyrule came to be! And, of course, a tale of Hylia and Original Link.

(Inspired by Greek God AU fanart by @royxhe !)

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Of Gods and Goddesses

The home of the Gods was a place no mortal could perceive. It is commonly described by priests and devotees as a heaven’s heaven. A place no mortal man can wander regardless of the quality of sin running through their veins. Only those so pure that their blood turns gold can they cross the border. The highest ascent was to dine amongst the divine. To cross the watery line of mortality and rise where no other has. Indeed, it was foretold to be a place devoid of the impurities of man.

Man was made in the image of the gods.

But the gods were far from devoid of sin.

Clattering voices that ranged from the tinkling of fairies to the deep vibrations of gods echoed against the walls of the large, thick stone structure. Floating lights lined the walls and the ceiling reached infinitely upwards. To a mortal mind, it would be a room of monsters. Most gods who traveled on the living plane adopted forms that would least overwhelm the inhabitants, whether it be in the bodies of their kinsmen or other familiar animate creatures. This was as according to the Doctrine. However, in the world of immortals, they were free to be pure without boundaries. A winged boar like being didn’t stray far from the center podium, they flew in a spiral while lighting the ethereal candles with a quick breath. A tall giant with a grimace complained loudly in the center of the hall over the lack of amenities, the goddess beside him glared upward. Her cheek bones strikingly lifted.

Gods and goddesses waited. And when immortals were innately impatient, antics seemed to blossom. Flower goddesses and their nymphs giggled incessantly as they adorned a chaotic, yet sleeping, god with bright roses and daisies.

Despite the loud, booming insanity that was the council of immortals, this was a symbol of governance. Just centuries prior, the lands below were a constant reminder of war and death. No life withstood the ravening of ancient, wild gods – forever barren until the Golden Sisters had had enough.

Thus, as the present ensued a loud bang was heard. It reverberated off every crevasse and inch of the building. The golden gavel lifted from the podium, which loomed above. A yellow, almost gold shine manifested. The crowd of restless beings settled almost instantaneously; their reverence shown in their silence. Lesser immortals bowed their heads, unable to do anything else in the presence of the goddess that stood above. Despite the four chairs behind her, she was alone. A long shimmering white robe clung to her frame effortlessly, almost floating in the air surrounding. Her hair was a striking blonde and created a halo around her veiled face.

In a voice of silk, Hylia spoke, “My brothers and sisters of the Pantheon, the presiding council humbly welcomes you. This convergence, as we know, is an open forum concerning the state of the living plane.” There was a blanket of whispers that smoothed over the hall. She raised her gavel and the odd sound signified the beginning of the forum.

One of the flower goddesses stood, smoothing out her bright dress. “With all due respect, Your Excellency,” she said, bowing her eyes slightly. “May I ask when the Trio will return?”

The veil was meant to symbolize the blindness of justice and equilibrium, but now Hylia was thankful for the shielding of emotions. Her sisters’ absence, as well as her isolation on the podium, had endured for two centuries now. Not long since the final creation of man, they declared they would be taking leave. Nothing else was said, not even to Hylia herself. With that, her shoulders were given the weight of governing the heavens.

“The Trio,” she spoke, banishing her uncertainty in place of the reverse, “has taken up arms in supporting the realm below and further sealing the Ancients. This will take… a considerable period of time.” Much to her relief, the goddess curtsied and sat satisfied. Mumbling quaked through the open space before settling once more. Several gods of the sea stood, arguing over territory and who would guide a new fishing tribe that had settled on the shore of the Dark Sea. After each party involved was satiated, there was a long wait. Hylia moved adjourn the meeting, thankful that there wasn’t much to smooth over.

“Your Honor. The reverent and glorifying Hylia of Light. I have a request to ask of you,” it was a voice she inwardly flinched at hearing. On the outside, she was stoic. Demise was never truly speaking with respect. His intonation was littered with sarcasm, deep-rooted hatred, and disgust. Why he had decided to attend today, out of all days, was beyond the goddess.

He stood, a clear divide between himself and the rest. The immortal was towering, and long dark robes cloaked him. The yellow eyes that peered out from underneath were unmistakable. There was a hush that moved throughout the Pantheon; even the light gossiping of fairies turned stale. Demise was a powerful god, one that rarely showed himself. At one point, long ago, he sat amongst the Ancient Ones and waged war against the driving force Hylia and her sisters garnered. At the last moments, he betrayed his cause under the guise of having a “change of heart”. It was a gross display of sudden loyalty, but it had also led to the end of a war that was long overdue.

They ended up giving Demise immunity in exchange for his promise of scarcity.

“If,” he started, his hair licked like flames. “If I may be so bold. These ‘people’ on our lands have achieved nothing but petty inventions. What possible purpose could they serve? They are the rodents they eat.”

With a hardened grip, Hylia could feel the imaginary presence of her sisters behind her. Of course, they were never there. The thrones made of wicking vines and sparking silver had been collecting dust for too long. Yet, their personalities lingered. Apart, they were on opposite spectrums. Their differences astounding. Din would shout and launch into whatever hit her mind first; probably mostly about the Doctrine as well as his insolence. She had always despised Demise. Then, Nayru would calm Din out of her rage (commonly tapping her hand lightly) and cite the Doctrine word for word. Nayru was soft-spoken, but her words held weight. Finally, Farore would appeal to the ultimate goal. Peace would only be achieved in his respect and why the gathering was called for.

Din, Nayru, and Farore were triplets that created a seamless person. So, Hylia did what she did best and forced them together in her mind and parted her lips to grace his undeserving ears. “Demise, god of the night and shadows. Have peace that your concerns do not fall upon deaf ears. Allow me to remind of our cause. For millennia our land has been tossed aside. Under the leadership of the Old Gods, we were misled into a state of misery and anger. We had forgotten our purpose,” she paused. Demise was glowering. A stagnant air surrounded him as the gap became more apparent. “Without purpose we lack meaning. After the War, every being in this room was present in planning this governance. The Doctrine was created as well as Man.”

“And what have these pitiful creatures done? More headaches! More confusion,” he growled. Hylia stopped her speech. Demise had interrupted her. A hot feeling rose in her throat and a deep swallow silenced her anger. Imagining Din’s reaction was deafening, but the silence could be cut with a knife. A chair slid forth and the slight sound of sandals on stone was heard. Someone cleared their throat, “Demise.”

The addressed god snapped his head around, his entire body turning when he caught a glimpse. Like a wave, the rest of the Pantheon followed. And with them, a sea of gossiping murmurs. Hylia gripped the podium harder than she expected, content with being concealed in her discomfort. “Interrupt Her Grace again and you will have a bigger problem than agricultural mortals.”

The god that spoke among them was one she hadn’t seen in quite some time. Alikah dawned a white toga and was staring across the room at Demise, who relented with a scoff. His gaze found the ground and his behind the seat. However, Alikah had met her eyes for a moment and she saw a whisper of a smile. Addressing neither, she spoke with a hardness she hadn’t had before, “Man does not live as long as us. They achieve little production individually. Yet, I implore you to look deeper. Collectively they have given so much. To nature gods, fields of new flowers and sprawling farms. Places of worship taller than their dwellings. In this very hall, gods have gained new titles with their development of knowledge and science. Pray tell, Demise, why would you wish to take this away from those who flourish? Even you can’t stop the sun from rising each morning and their fire from burning your darkness away at night.”

With the silence that followed, she adjourned them, and as the gavel hit the podium the Pantheon erupted in discussion.

#hylink #there aren't enough of these!!#legend of zelda #gods au #zelink #hylia #link #zelda #demise #ashleyswrittenwords #fanfiction #zelink fanfiction #loz #legend of zelda fanfiction

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nexstage · 4 years

Text

Starless

Larimar, Snowflake, and Centi: Can someone understand me?

Corruption.

For many people, it means the process by which something, typically a word or expression, is changed from its original use or meaning to one that is regarded as erroneous or debased.

However, for the gems like little Larimar, Snowflake, Centi and many others who suffered by the hands of the Diamonds that fateful day during the war, it meant two words: pain and confusion.

Ok, so that's an understatement because unless you're a gem, you can't get how it felt. Many things confused and/or upset people no matter how insignificant they were after all.

But the Corruption Attack, being corrupted, THAT was a whole, another story.

There were no words to describe it and, honestly, it's not that the healed gems were going to write an essay about what was the most traumatic moment of their quasi-immortal lives. Still, if someone asked them, they would have the same idea: it was like being swallowed by a hell made of confusion and pain.

Not that gems knew what hell was, but that explanation was enough for them to illustrate their trauma. After all, when your light form is twisted by a blinding blast and your mind wakes up with the sole programming of attacking and tearing everything apart as if you were going to die if you didn't do it, then it's understandable that the only concept of being corrupted is that one: being messed up endlessly.

No one was there to help you, no one was there to calm you down, there was no escape. Your body didn't felt like it was yours anymore, it was more from a beast.

The worst part was the mind.

Before the Corruption, a gem knew what to do and whom to follow. A gem knew who she was. After it happened, nothing made sense anymore.

It was an agglomeration of scrambled words, feelings, memories, and sensations that forced themselves to fit with the other creating a chaotic image, the only guide when you were corrupted.

A gem tried to make sense of it, but the mind of a beast had its limits and that's when the pain came to the picture.

It was a void where the word 'Lost' reigned ruthlessly. The corrupted ones could resort to their claws and fangs, to their strength and agility, to that animalistic nature that had replaced their calculating minds; however, it didn't last against others who were luckier than them for not being corrupted and for having better plans to deal with the unfortunate ones.

Too many aspects that were new for the gems when they came to Earth, before the Corruption, became utterly terrifying and overwhelming. They couldn't remember, and the feelings of helplessness and frustration hurt them more, made them snap and get attacked and bubbled which was worse.

Just with a single attack, any spark of hope left them.

But then, Steven came to the picture too.

The kid who, for the corrupted ones, was just another enemy or prey of their claws, and still he decided to face the fearsome Diamonds so they could be healed.

That sweet little human with gem powers who was looking for a solution so they could get back their lives and not suffer anymore.

It was because of him that they could live peacefully, and while some of them went back to Homeworld and slowly adjusted to the changes of a dismantled empire, the others -Crystal Gems and gems who wanted to start a new life on Earth- stayed on the planet to learn new things. Still, all of them had one thing in common: their absolute gratitude and respect towards Steven Universe.

And therefore, it was a huge and terrible surprise for Centi to be told that his little friend, his savior, had disappeared with his car to an unknown place.

It was supposed to be a surprise visit and some time hanging out with Steven, catching up and know if things were ok with him on Earth. However, when she and her crew received the news about his sudden departure, they couldn't believe it.

At first, Centi thought it was just a short journey Steven had to realize for some errand or another reason, her denial being strong enough to put her worst fears aside concerning the boy's well-being.

Everything collapsed, though, after a very somber explanation.

Steven wasn't doing ok. In fact, both the Crystal Gems and his 'dad' - as the human called Greg referred to himself- had noticed, pretty late, unfortunately, some unhealthy and worrying patterns of behavior in Steven that got worse until the last straw came, the cactus incident.

Centi's mind was divided in two. On one hand, she wanted to blame her former enemies due to their incompetence that led Steven to ran away from Beach City to stars-knows-where. The glares and open hostility on her part towards the Crystal Gems were very clear signals of that. On the other hand, she felt compelled to act, although impulsively, almost going to Homeworld to call the Diamonds to find Steven.

One of the Crystal Gems, the Pearl, stopped her by telling her that the Diamonds would cause a big scandal because not all Earth had getting used to see and interact with gems. And if Steven found out, he would freak out.

So, now she was in the center of Little Homeworld, accompanied not only by her crew but also two former Crystal Gems: a Larimar and a Snowflake Obsidian.

Before all this mess, she wouldn't imagine interacting with former enemies. However, the war was over, all the corrupted gems were healed and living their own lives, and bringing Steven back was the goal in common for her, her crew and those Crystal Gems.

What was most surprising, though, was how understanding they were at her worries despite her initial distrust at them.

"You know, when I was a mindless monster I thought deep down that I would never get back my life. But Steven gave me another chance and here I am, now. And yeah, Pearl and the other Crystal Gems are my friends and I don't like it when someone is mad at them, but I get it. Steven is truly important for all of us. If it weren't for him, we would still be monsters"

The Larimar, Little Larimar as she called herself, nodded at her friend's words "Steven helped me to find my purpose. And that is making others happy, especially human children. I don't know what kind of purpose do you have now that the war is over, but whatever it is, it must be really treasured by you because Steven gave you a chance to find it. Someone like him is so difficult to find these days and a big blessing"

"Yeah, he is" Centi agreed and even her crew members nodded at that "At first he attacked me because he saw me as a threat. But, the second time we met, he was so kind to me. He listened to me when I told him what happened before the Corruption"

"He even faced the Diamonds to bring us back" a nephrite of the crew intervened sadly.

"He might be a Crystal Gem, but he sees all the gems as equals and helps them no matter what", another nephrite said while clutching her left arm anxiously.

"Everyone here is in debt with Steven, and even if he would have never accepted us owing him so much because of how he is, we still need to do it. We have to"

And so, they started their own search.

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

If someone had told Larimar and Snowflake that looking for a human on a planet full of humans was going to be difficult or almost impossible, they would have ignored them.

As veteran Crystal Gems, both only knew one thing, and that was that action and determination could lead you anywhere. Whether it was war or any other project, if you don't have the guts to make it true, then it's useless to keep going. However, as days went by, the two gems came to the conclusion that just a strong resolve wasn't enough to find someone.

No clues, no handprints not even a single note. Steven really wanted to not be found.

"What kind of places should we list to start?" asked Centi to one of them, Larimar to be exact.

As surreal as it sounded, despite the bad blood between Crystal Gems and Homeworld Gems, both Snowflake and Larimar could befriend Centi and her crew while looking for Steven.

So, maybe it was because all of them were corrupted and saved by him because they cared about him because Steven befriended them and helped them to adjust to a new era. Maybe those were the only reasons to make a team with former enemies. However, with time they started to bond over other things like what they liked, how they were finding themselves without wars or Diamonds' orders around, their opinions about Era 3, trivialities. Anything that crossed their minds.

Just like that, differences stopped existing between each other, and yeah, at first they wondered why but then it became obvious: there were others whose experiences you could relate to, even if they were Homeworld Gems.

That single realization gave Larimar an idea "Guys, did anyone know how Steven was doing?" that question froze everyone's work. Seconds of silence turned into minutes due to a deep reflection.

"He wouldn't have left if someone knew he wasn't ok, wouldn't he?" a Nephrite said, but she didn't sound that sure.

"I think this isn't about if someone knew how Steven was doing, it was more about if they could understand how he felt" Snowflake's opinion got everyone nodding. It made sense, after what they had heard of how Steven was behaving, it felt as if he was isolating himself because there was no one who could comprehend what he was going through.

"I still remembered when I corrupted," Centi said somberly "I felt so lost and alone. Even with my crew at my side, I didn't know if this torment would end. Steven still tried and listened to me. I didn't feel so lonely after that"

"Did he have someone to do the same for him?" another member of Centi's crew asked concerned.

A heavy silence made itself present as the answer.

It was worrying as much as it was tragic.

How long would have Steven gone through that? Giving his ears and shoulders to anyone who needed them but finding a lack of support despite the love everyone gave him.

Then another more confusing question came, is love enough to prevent events like this from happening? But if it were so simple as that, Steven would still be here and ok.

"What if Steven is looking for someone like him?" Larimar's question was strange and their raised eyebrows demanded an explanation.

"We can understand each other because we know how terrifying it was the Corruption Attack or be corrupted. He may be feeling scared for some reason but no one can see it in his way"

"A human with gem powers, that is unique indeed" Snowflake pensive expression then turned into a scowl "I don't think his sudden journey is going to be successful. Never before has been someone like Steven. A mix of human and gem. Garnet told me it was like a fusion"

"Instead of searching another hybrid between human and gem, he might be looking for people who have enough ears and shoulders that he can rely on"

"We can give him that" a Nephrite intervened by showing her shapeshifting abilities to multiply her shoulders "There will be enough and even more for him to pick"

"I think it goes beyond the number" Larimar sat in a rock in the middle of the huge Strawberry Battlefield.

Even when the war was over, the air still felt heavy and bitter in the area. The screams, the clash of weapons, pieces of cracked and shattered gems covering the ground, the sky the color of blood.

Larimar hoped, really hoped, that Steven wasn't here hiding because this place, despite being calm and beautiful now, only harbored dark memories and feelings.

Perhaps that's how Steven was doing right now. Trying to keep a bravado or smile to everyone, even if inside of him there was a raged storm.

And no one better than him could get that sensation, but Steven didn’t want himself to understand him, he wanted another person.

"Larimar, something on your mind?" Snowflake put a comforting hand on her shoulder, encouraging her kindly to tell her what's wrong.

"Is it enough for someone to just have themselves?"

That was a very philosophical question. And no, Snowflake didn't know what to answer.

"Care to elaborate?"

"I mean, when we were corrupted we were scared, hurt and confused. We didn't have anyone, we couldn't remember who we were. If it weren't for Steven it would have been worse. So, how can someone be understood or feel like they're being listened if having themselves isn't even enough?"

"Honestly, I don't know. But we had the chance to be listened, to be helped. Steven gave us that chance"

"It's time for us to return the favor" Centi, who hadn't been that far away from the two gems, approached them after hearing what they were saying.

"We'll listen to him as long as he wants," another Nephrite said, determinedly.

"We can be those shoulders he lacked"

"Because we know how it feels to be lost and terrified"

"We'll try as hard as possible. He deserves it. He needs it"

Resolution ran through their bodies as if it were blood coursing through veins. Whether Steven was finding someone else to understand him or finding himself, once they found his savior, they will help him by being by his side.

That single step wouldn't be enough but it would be the way to make Steven see that people got his back.

#Steven Universe Future #Post-Prickly Pair episode #Angst #Friendship #Little Larimar #Snowflake #centipeetle #Centi's crew #Hurt/Comfort #Feelings

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shineonyoucrazyyandere · 5 years

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Hello! this is the first time that I request something from you, your work is so cool and I'm so nervous because what I want to ask sounds very lame. Can I request headcanons for yandere La squadra with a s/o who has a mental breakdown because of the kidnapping and every other yandere activity, like their s/o just breaks? and after the breakdown they become so unresponsive that they don't even leave the bed for a couple of days and La squadra starts to worry?

Ah nah what you requested is not lame! I’m happy you sent this in! Hope you don’t mind my extra liberties with this request.

Yandere! La Squadra w/ s/o who has a mental breakdown and after said breakdown they don’t leave their bed for a couple days.

You don’t know what you did to deserve this kind of hell. The nutjob that brought you here, they haunted you to the core. Their incessant mutterings towards you were disturbingly intimate, not to mention the craze in their eyes still chilled you to the bone when you wanted to leave. Not to mention the extremely unusual punishments that came along with your escape attempts.

Things that happened shouldn’t even had been feasibly possible, yet you witnessed the contrary right in front of your eyes. It plagued you with hopelessness and despair that they likely took care of anyone else you could run to for help. You just decided to lie there on the bed they decided to provide you with, unmoving and unwilling to do anything.

Yandere! Formaggio

He slips into your room with a seemingly confident smile. You didn’t even bother to look at him when he entered the room either, that was a problem.

He simply sits at your bedside gently caressing your skin, leaning over to mutter anything to get a reaction out of you. Aside from goosebumps and a little twinge of discomfort you exerted, there wasn’t anything coming from you.

He wouldn’t be satisfied with this as he starts cooing at your lack of response, his twisted mind teases you playfully.

Eventually Formaggio ends up shrinking you, just to keep you closer to him. You might not do anything but he sees it easier to get you to do something for him.

He knows you’re likely suffering, he’ll even mention it right to you as he merely strokes you with his thumb like he would pet a cat. Taking in any residual trembling you had, all while trying to reassure you that you were in good hands. (Even if you hardly believed that)

Though he might tell you to get comfy as he takes you out of the room shrunken. For extra “time” together for lunch.

Yandere! Illuso

There’s likely a mirror purposely in your room so he could keep an eye on you without detection. This didn’t alleviate any concern he had when he just saw you lying there.

Illuso ends up coming through the door to keep some normalcy for once.

He’s quiet upon approaching you, and only touches your hair for the most part. He softly drags a finger across your tangled locks of h/c hair.

Softly hums something until he mentions how he can still tell you’re still fearful.

He simply sits there with you as long as he can, and makes sure to bring you a snack every now and then through the mirror.

He makes sure his presence is there often, quite the opposite of starving you off from other people. Illuso purposely drags you along his little mind games, just to attempt to keep you on your toes.

Yandere! Pesci

He’s freaked out by you not coming out of your room for a couple days. But his presence suddenly becomes well known as he bursts into your room the first chance he gets.

Weirdly enough Pesci grovels a bit, his hands touching your cheeks with concern. There was some genuine care underneath all of his obsessiveness. But depending on your mindset it might not do much other than freak you out a bit further.

He starts asking what you like to do, anything that he could bring you to keep your spirits slightly up even by a sliver. If you don’t respond he figures out something as a substitute.

There’s a nice vase of flowers left for you on the nightstand, just to try to get you to see something that you might appreciate. Even if you just take a glance at them he sees it as a little bit of acceptance.

He knows nothing apologetic will work, but will try his best to help you adjusting. Even it’s just small acts from that point on.

Yandere! Prosciutto

He knows what’s going on immediately, and he doesn’t hesitate to check up on you when he has time.

The blond is impossible to ignore as he makes sure your eyes are on him while he talks. His grip is firm but it’s nothing to leave bruises or the like.

He simply says what he truly feels and quiet bluntly at that, he won’t hesitate to tell you that locking yourself away mentally won’t do any favors.

The miserable state you are in, truly does affect him. He’s too selfish to let you go from all he went to get through to get you. So he tries any alternatives to soften the blow as significantly as possible. Even if it’s speaking gently or not grabbing you forcefully.

It does bug him significantly if you haven’t been taking care of yourself physically. He uses this as an excuse to get you up and about. From brushing your hair, getting you to take a bath or shower.

Prosciutto will eat dinner with you alone and he refuses to leave the room until he sees you’re completely finished.

Yandere! Melone

Melone seems oddly prepared to rush into your room, he’s pretty versed in how people can be affected by traumatic events. Even though he is self aware what he did was damaging, he sees it as an opportunity to try and get you closer to him.

He’s gentle and barely says a word at the start. He mainly gawks at your wonderful form he always loved from the beginning.

He asks anything that might get an answer, such as little things like getting your freedom. Or flying to a new country and never looking back. It’s eerily like you’re being used for a scientific study almost.

The purple haired male is still super concerned though, he likely keeps in mind your astrological sign and builds around trying to appease you in some way through that.

He’s pretty physically clingy and also adjusts his physical touch according to your sign, it doesn’t make it any less creepy however.

Yandere! Ghiaccio

Ghiaccio does his best to keep his attitude level calm, and he barges in your room without hesitation.

He might be a little snippy at trying to get your attention, but once he does he makes it certain you’re hearing everything he says.

Similar to Prosciutto he makes sure you’re taking care of yourself physically, he won’t hesitate to pull you off the bed to get you cleaned up a bit.

Ghiaccio often ends up sitting at the end of your bed just occasionally glancing at you. He’s severely frustrated but like hell would he ever let you go. He can’t sugarcoat something to appease you falsely, it’s against his thought process and he knows you wouldn’t fall for it. So it doesn’t leave much for conversation.

Yandere! Risotto Nero

He’s likely already aware of your unresponsiveness, Risotto is no idiot and knew something like this would happen to you eventually.

He looms over you in your room, and kneels to your level. His voice deep and authorative he’ll instruct you to move over on your bed.

His sharp and to the point that your unresponsiveness doesn’t do much to keep him away. His affection is the only thing you are required to have.

He watches you sleep when there’s to missions to attend to, the slight distrust of you still trying to escape before likely lingers.

He insists your presence in his room to keep you from isolating yourself for days on end like last time. So your meals are also in front of him and he’s around the corner the moment you step out from the bathroom.

His arms will coax their way around your body, and he relaxes in his unbridled obsession with you. Something he basically forces you to get used to

Yandere! Sorbet and Gelato

They’re a pair that see themselves inseparable from you, so they’re both already in the doorway whether you want it or not.

Sorbet is the one to sit you up physically while Gelato inquires about you being isolated in the room by yourself. Neither of them liked it after all.

Eventually you’re stuck in between them, in a session of cuddling that seems to never end.

They both give their own reasonings for every little thing they did, and they will both fully admit it was for selfish desires. They don’t regret a single bit of it either.

Your unresponsiveness does nothing to deter them from sleeping in the same room as you. Even if it means forcing you to become closer, or even merely relying on the two will work for them. It also gives them the excuse to “intervene” and help you out supposedly.

#Yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere jjba #jojo no kimyō na bōken #jojo part 5 #vento auero #golden wind #formaggio #illuso #pesci #prosciutto #ghiaccio #melone #sorbet and gelato #risotto nero #JJBA #jjba x reader #jjba headcanons

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alternislatronemhq · 4 years

Photo

Congrats, Steph, you have been accepted to AL for the role of Remus Lupin (FC: Ross Butler). Steph, wow, what a great application! I think it can be really easy for Remus to be portrayed only one way, and I’m so excited to see how you explored his differences in this storyline. He’s really hurting and bitter because of the betrayal of his friends, and that is going to be such an interesting thing to see played out. With the way you got into his head, I have full confidence that you’ll do that really well! Please send in your blog (no sideblogs for first characters, please) in the next 24 hours and be sure to take a look at our new player checklist.Welcome home, we’re so excited to have you join the family!

OOC

name — Steph age — 26 pronouns — she/her timezone — GMT+1 activity level — I work in a supermarket which is very busy at the moment, so won’t get on every day necessarily but will be around a few times a week easily, particularly afternoon UK time.

IC Overview

name — Remus Lupin age — 26 gender — Male (he/him) sexuality — Gay (closeted)

patronus — Wolf. Remus hates that the animal which best represents his soul is the one which has defined his life in such a negative way. Therefore, he never casts a corporeal patronus when he summons one.

boggart — The Full Moon. This is representative of Remus’ fear of what he becomes each month, his dread of each upcoming full moon and the way each that has passed leaves scars mental as well as physical.

IC In Depth

personality traits —

+ selfless: Remus would do anything for his friends no matter the cost to him.

+ compassionate: Possibly an odd trait for somebody known as a prankster, Remus sees the good in those around him and empathises with them. He would take the side of an underdog over the easier but less righteous choice. His compassionate nature has also helped him to forgive people when they have done wrong in the past, in particular Sirius after the incident of Severus Snape and the Whomping Willow. However, forgiving himself and forgiving Sirius again after the breakdown of the Marauders feels impossible.

+ astute: While Remus generally has to work at being book smart, his sharp perception of the world comes naturally. He can think quickly and intuitively to turn a situation to his advantage, whether that is in finding loopholes for the next marauder prank, in assessing a situation that might be about to turn sour or in identifying somebody who needs a word of encouragement.

- people pleaser: In school, this manifested in Remus’s tendency to look the other way when the other Marauders are breaking rules. He would not participate if he didn’t really agree with what they were doing but he certainly didn’t do anything to stop or stand up to his friends. The biggest threat to his self-esteem is the idea of being unwanted, unloved, or a disappointment.

- self-deprecating: Remus hates everything that reminds him of his lycanthropy, especially the parts of his personality which are shaped by his condition. Though the support of his friends has helped him come to terms with his fate in the past, Remus has always been prone to some doubt and shame over the werewolf part of him. Knowing that Sirius lost trust in him was hard for him but now he almost accepts it as inevitable because he doesn’t feel like he deserved the friendship of the Marauders in the first place.

- vengeful: While Remus will forgive somebody for one wrong if they show contrition, if somebody earns his anger then they should beware. On the wrong side of him, Remus is a force to be reckoned with.

character biography —

(Tws: illness, smoking-related illness, death, depression, poverty and homelessness)

From the night he was bitten, Remus grew up in isolation units and hospital wards and the confining four walls of his bedroom. His life would forever be shaped by that monthly pattern and a fear of others finding out. His home-schooling involved not just basic numeracy and literacy but also astronomy and muggle physics and an extensive education into what it meant to be a werewolf. Every last galleon that they owned went into searching for a cure or moving to another town after their latest neighbours started to suspect something was amiss with the family, a few spare coins each month for each of their vices: Lyall’s italian coffee and books, cigarettes and music records for Hope, and chocolate frogs and colouring pencils for remus. In between other lessons, Lyall Lupin did everything he could to ensure Remus would be prepared for a nomadic adulthood — a life on the streets, friendless and penniless — deaf to Hope’s pleas that they try and help him get back to some notion of a normal life.

Hope’s wish finally came true in the form of Professor Dumbledore, not long since appointed as headmaster of Hogwarts, showing up on their doorstep. Remus was so excited to go to school that he barely noticed his parents’ worried exchanges and fears. It was only later, when Remus started to compare the next year’s full moons to his new school calendar that it dawned on him just how complicated this would be. It was his mother who suggested that he could say she had a chronic illness and that he was visiting her whenever there was a Full Moon but he had not known James Potter, Sirius Black and Peter Pettigrew for long before he realised they would not buy that as a reason for skipping classes or being absent from the dorm every month like clockwork. Remus, glad to finally have friends and terrified he would lose them if they found out the truth, made up different and increasingly more elaborate stories but he wasn’t a good enough liar to hide from his best friends.

The four of them grew closer than Remus could have ever hoped for. They accepted him and supported him. They helped him keep his secret from their other classmates and they were constantly coming up with ways to make things easier for him, whether it was ensuring he didn’t fall behind in classes or sneaking him sweets and tea the morning after a transformation. They learnt to become animagi and Remus couldn’t be more grateful.

Everything seemed to go wrong at once. a betrayal from his best of friends — his only friends — revealing the secret his life had been devoted to keeping for the purpose of playing a cheap and fatal prank on Snape. Remus felt convinced all three of them were in on it because they always were. He avoided and argued and was the most miserable he had been since starting Hogwarts. It was during this period of low that he had a careers meeting that highlighted how dim his prospects after school would be and remus was reminded of what his father had tried to impress on him all these years — that werewolves weren’t supposed to have the sort of life he had been playing at, with education and friends and happiness. The next full moon was during the Easter holidays and unable to bear sitting in the Shrieking Shack alone, he went home. He asked his parents why him. Unable to fob him off with any more half-truths or excuses, his father finally opened up about Greyback. Remus had to hear how his father had once held the same prejudices about werewolves as the rest of the wizarding world and make his own conclusion that maybe he still did. After all, he had almost stopped Remus from living his life after the bite, no matter how much he claimed it was for Remus’ own good. The resulting argument was brutal but soon cut short by hacking coughs and Lyall turning on his wife and snapping at her to stop smoking those damn things. Her hand was shaking as she ignored him and tried to light the cigarette anyway. Remus noticed for the first time that she looked very ill, so ill that his using her as an excuse all those months appeared to be coming back to bite him.

They had been his first ever friends and when Remus returned to school he knew he could avoid them no longer. He needed them. Life would be much too lonely without them, especially if Hope’s days were numbered and, besides, he had grown too used to their being by his side during transformations. He refused to let them talk about it, insisting he didn’t want to relive it when in fact a part of him was worried that talking it through would remind him how betrayed he had felt. He reminded himself of what he had always believed: that he wasn’t good enough for them. That he was nothing more than a monster and at least he should be grateful that they still wanted his friendship. He was indebted to them. How could he keep pushing them away when they equalled the happiest moments of his life so far? Even with that awful incident, none of them were a part of the worst moments of his life. So, he let them fall back together and patch up the cracks in their friendship with jokes and pranks and throwing themselves towards war, knowing that it didn’t matter to him how they felt. They could pity him and fear him and be prepared to brush him away without a second thought again. He would die for them anyway.

Life after Hogwarts was predictably difficult. Employers wizarding and muggle alike did not look kindly on him taking sick leave less than a month after being hired and inevitably after the second Full Moon he was circling ads in the newspaper again. It wasn’t long before the Order of the Phoenix became his primary concern and though the very thought of seeing Greyback again made him felt akin to walking into hell, he found himself accepting the mission of the Order’s spy amongst the werewolves. Only Dumbledore knew the task he was undertaking, the majority of the Order having no idea of his condition and those who did he was forbidden to talk to them about it. Remus started to slip away from himself. He was incredibly lonely without being able to talk to his best friends and each minute with the werewolves brought more danger, more emotional strain, and more questions about whether he had ever really deserved his years pretending to be a normal wizard. The werewolves he had befriended didn’t understand why he would want to live amongst humans and there were others who would never be friendly with him as long as that was the case.

By 1981, Remus felt completely isolated. His mother died early in the year and his relationship with his father was worse than ever. Transformations with the Marauders were a distant memory and instead he spent his Full Moons forced into a life of violence he had always been determined to avoid. He barely saw any of the Order outside of meetings and his attendance at those was becoming increasingly difficult. When he did come back, it was hard to know his place in the meetings, unable to talk about what he had been doing and knowing so little about everybody else’s lives. Only Peter seemed to remember that he was missing so much and made a point of keeping Remus in the loop but so often that consisted of lost lives and disappearances and Remus came to dread the times he would sneak away from the packs. Talks of spies did not help. It was impossible for Remus to think of any of the Order as betraying them and he told the group as much, fiercely insisting that this was what the Death Eaters wanted ⁠— for them to be torn apart by their own paranoia.

So distant from it all, Remus did not realise how guilty he had made himself look until after it all was over. James was in hospital, basically gone, and Peter in Azkaban and it had only happened because Sirius suspected Remus. Fleeing from the werewolves the moment word reached him that the war was over turned out to be a bad idea because all of a sudden Remus found himself with nothing. The friendless and penniless life of the streets that his father had prepared him for was now a reality and he would rather sleep rough than face the guilt that if he had been there, if he had just disobeyed Dumbledore enough to tell the Marauders what he was involved in, if he had been a better friend to Peter, maybe none of this would have happened. It was better than facing Sirius, who was the one person he thought would understand that Remus could never betray them.

plot ideas —

I have always imagined James to be the one who is able to ground Remus and keep him together so without him there, Remus has spiralled. The memory of the Marauders is something bitter now, with Peter’s betrayal and the gaping hole that James leaves and this is a big part of Remus not making an effort to reconnect with Sirius. He definitely spends a lot of time next to James’ bed in St Mungo’s. Even now, if he needs to talk to someone, James is his first port of call. Remus’s certainty that James is never coming back means sometimes he will say things he wouldn’t voice otherwise. Maybe if James does wake up, he heard more than Remus wanted him to.

I would love some other werewolves and some plots involving those werewolves Remus did befriend during the war. He almost feels guilty for liking and empathising with some of them and hates that he relates to them but it had been nice to have people who really understood.

He’s trying to act like his life isn’t falling apart around him for Harry’s sake and so that he can still see Harry while trying to hold both Lily and Sirius at a distance. This will involve a lot of pretending that things aren’t as bad as they really are, that he can manage Full Moons alone and that he is finding legitimate ways to get a proper meal between offers of charity from old friends.

The love he once had for the Marauders is difficult to define. They were his found family and his brothers, the first friends he ever had, the only people he trusted with his whole self. The battle to come to terms with himself not only as a werewolf but a gay werewolf was something he never fully managed though had there been no war the Marauders would have got him there eventually. Now, he’s left wondering where the lines are between platonic and romantic love. The men in his life have been nothing but sex, his ability to trust having been broken too far for anything more. In terms of ships, Remus will be slow to get into anything and it would have to be based on chemistry and a gradual building of trust. He might wonder sometimes if he was in love with James though that is mostly because in his anger at Peter and Sirius he has transferred all the love he held for the Marauders as a unit onto James to make it easier to process the betrayal. It’s no longer the three of them he is grateful to for making Hogwarts the best seven years of his life, but James. No longer the three of them who made him feel worthy of love and friendship but James. In believing that, he can almost cope.

If he’s going to accept help from anybody these days it will be someone who was less a part of the war and who doesn’t have their own family to think about. Much as he values people like Mary and Frank for sticking by him through all the lowest points of his depression, they have their own lives away from him, their own children to consider and Remus feels guilty whenever they express any concern for him. I’d love for him to develop a friendship with someone who makes it easier for him to let others help him, and who might be able to offer him a place to stay more permanently.

extra —

in terms of the canon that Remus believed Sirius to be the spy, I’ve always headcanoned that as being after the war. He apologised to Sirius because he believed the world when they told him Sirius had betrayed the Potters but I can’t see Remus as having suspected that beforehand. I can’t see Remus being able to think badly of the three boys who became animagi for him, not until it’s all too late. Also, I have a general pinterest board for Remus here, though it includes things from various RPs

#al:accepted #remus lupin

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