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scarlettjohanssons-mistress · 1 year

Note

I don’t if ur request are still open but if they are I was wondering if I could request lady lesso x reader we’re they are in a secret relationship and they got kissing or something by dovey

She is different

Warnings: Secret relationship, jealousy, fluff, warrior princess, bad liars

Word count: 2.3 K

Pairing: Lady Lesso x Fem!Reader

Prompt: It is impossible to hide that Lady Lesso was completely captivated from the first moment she saw Y/N

Requests: OPEN

[Main masterlist] [Charlize Theron characters masterlist]

From the moment Y/N set foot in the school, the green eyes of the dean of evil did not stop admiring her figure.

Despite having a 'thin' build and short stature, Y/N wasn't your typical princess. The legends that ran through the corridors of the school, recounted the great feats that she had achieved as the star warrior of the greatest known kingdom; making the redheaded dean's curiosity grow with the passage of time.

Lady Lesso had always met the stereotype of the perfect princess, just like Dovey herself; so, hearing that that sweet-looking princess had been commissioned to slaughter thousands of enemies, just to protect the queen, only made it inevitable that Lady Lesso would wander into Miss Y/N's class.

Y/N was one of the first teachers to get a mixed class, getting both 'Ever' and 'Never' to learn to defend themselves and attack in combat, from small combats in a classroom of the, now, gigantic school, to fights that They executed on the school horses in the large gardens of the same.

At first, Dovey thought that Leonora's presence was due to concern (if that's what it could be called) for the performance of her students, but seeing how those eyes sparkled with a strange sparkle every time Miss Y/N, she brandished that weapon to teach the young princes how to defend themselves, she thought that her assumptions were not entirely correct. Lesso never missed a Y/N class, not even on the days they had practices in the gardens just like they were doing today; having a great simulated fight in the gardens of that castle.

A few minutes before class ended, Professor Dovey approached the stables, knowing that her students would arrive there, only to realize that Leonora was already there, staring at Professor T/N's braided hair

"My, what a surprise to find you here, Lesso," Dovey teased, smoothing the non-existent wrinkles from her beautiful dress.

“I would like to say the same”

Silence reigned for a few minutes, both with their eyes fixed on the training, until Dovey's gaze returned to rest on her senior partner, noticing how small and tiny black hearts came out of them.

"May I ask? What has been the reason why you delight us with your pleasant presence?" Dovey tried to persuade her partner, causing the redheaded teacher to just make a small face.

"No, you can't ask" she replied, in her typical annoyed voice.

Before Dovey could object to such behavior, the murmurs and laughter of the students, together with the galloping of the horses reached the ears of both women, causing their eyes to look at the boys, who quickly entered the stable to to let the steeds rest. Y/N was coming backwards, on top of her own horse.

"Oh, hi Dovey, I didn't see you there."

While Dovey and Y/N never became the best of friends (as Dovey always thought that a rebellious mind like Y/N didn't quite belong on the 'Ever' side), they have been courteous to each other, and more when Dovey found out that thanks to that woman, many of her friends and students were still alive.

“Lady Lesso, it is always a pleasure to greet you”

And for her counterpart was that beautiful redhead. When they were both young, Y/N remembered feeling self-conscious, clumsy, and even naive around her (the few times they happened to meet); when Y/N was taken to her friend Jade's kingdom to become what she always dreamed of, a warrior, she assured herself that if she ever met Leonora again, she would no longer be that shy girl; if she was capable of killing men in the name of what she considered fair, she was clearly capable of meeting this woman.

When the school received her, after those injuries that made it impossible for her to fight again, seeing how both the 'Evers' and the 'Nevers' young people applauded her with admiration, made her feel even more powerful. She was capable of instilling respect, pride and admiration on both sides.

Everything went overboard when her eyes collided with those of the dean of evil.

At first, he didn't recognize her, but, Y/N couldn't get over those beautiful eyes so quickly.

She felt how her knees began to give out, even a little unsure if she would be able to cross the entire room on her own.

To say that Leonora Lesso was beautiful was an understatement, the woman was the epitome of beauty and sensuality. Those green eyes like the grass bathed in morning dew, rosy lips like the petals of the most fragile flowers in her home kingdom, and that wild hair, like the flames she had seen on many of her travels.

She thought that with the weight of time, the impression before such a woman would diminish… but that never happened. Even to this day, she could feel the penetrating gaze of the dean in each and every one of her lessons, waiting for some mistake on the part of the young warrior, just to be able to take advantage and unleash her fury against her.

"Oh dear, that was a wonderful class," Dovey congratulated, watching as Y/N climbs down from the horse and begins to stroke the animal's head, while her other hand begins to remove the animal's saddle.

“Well, Dovey, thank…”

"Well, I expected to see someone injured" Leonora's hoarse voice commented.

Both Dovey's glare and Y/N's puzzled glare landed on the tall figure of the woman.

"Leonora!" Dovey scolded

“Well, my lady, I'm sorry to disappoint you this time. I promise that in the next class one of yours will have to be attended to urgently" Y/N joked, watching out of the corner of her eye, how the dean raised the corners of her mouth a little, showing a little amusement.

"Y/N!" Dovey scolded again, the princess looked at how her companion's corners were slightly raised, but, realizing the look, she quickly returned to her usual straight lips. "Both are impossible, I'd better go"

"I'd better go too" announced the redhead "I wouldn't like to see those freaks behave in a proper way"

"I hope that's not the case" Y/N joked again, watching how both deans walked away to let her clean the stable in peace.

———————————————————————————

Night came, and with it, secrecy and mystery.

T/N had always been taught that night was the time for evil, the terrifying and the forbidden. Over the years, she realized that it was not entirely true; night was the time for secrets, intrigue, curiosity, mystery, and of course, the forbidden.

A knock at her door startled the poor girl, who quickly put aside her parchment and quill to open the door, revealing those sweet green eyes.

"Until you deign to open"

“It was only seconds, don't be exaggerating”

"Well, seconds that could well be used in something else"

"Like what?"

"Maybe kiss you"

If Y/N were ever to tell that the fearsome dean of Evil had a soft spot for honeyed words and cheek kisses, no one would believe her. But, here she was, leaving a trail of little kisses on Y/N's cheeks.

"Today you were splendid" she murmured against her ear.

"Do you believe it?"

"Oh sweet girl, I've never seen someone attack like that before. No warrior will ever be as great and skillful as you are."

“Oh honey, you flatter me, but, out there, there are thousands of warriors far better prepared than me. It took me years to convince my parents to teach me how to wield a sword, whereas these men are required to do so at a very young age."

“Well, princess, that just proves my point. You are beautiful, intelligent, strong, brave and capable woman, what more could I ask for?" Leonora spoke while her arms embraced the small waist of her beloved, bringing her closer to her chest, so that she could smell a little of her hair.

"Maybe a make-out session in my bed?" the princess asked cheekily

“Wow, that sounds like a great idea to me”

———————————————————————————

Dovey's feet made it impossible for her to stay still. She was so anxious that, without realizing it, her feet moved her throughout her office, until she heard how the doors were opened violently, listening to Leonora's unmistakable walk, along with the annoying clicking of her cane.

"Well Clarissa, I'm here now, what do you want?"

But, seeing Leonora's raised eyebrow, the question stuck in her throat. Lady Lesso was well known for being the thorn in Professor Dovey's side, so wasn't it fair to get even a little revenge?

“I've been thinking about doing a new dance,” Dovey commented, performing in her everyday way: bubbly and happy.

"Other?" Leonora asked tiredly "Wouldn't it be like… the eighth this month?"

"Oh Leo, but this is for a special occasion"

"What could be so special as to warrant a school dance?" Now, the dean desperate, she crossed her arms, tapping her forearm with her nails.

“I have found the perfect prince for Y/N”

Lesso felt how the blood ran down from her head to her feet, making her fist take that stick with more force, until leaving her white knuckles.

"What?" she slumped into the chair across from Dovey, not helplessly, but furiously. "I thought I heard from Y/N's own mouth that she didn't want a prince in her life"

"Well, we can all change our minds, and believe me, when she see Prince Henry, her mind will change."

“Henry? What kind of name is Henry? It sounds completely ridiculous…”

"Leonora, if I didn't know you well enough, I would dare to say that you are jealous" Dovey teased, raising an eyebrow.

Lesso only managed to let out a sarcastic laugh, causing Dovey to laugh internally.

"Jealous? Of whom? Of your star princess? Not at all! I just make fun of the poor girl, having to deal with a man as… simple as this Henry"

"But if you don't know him yet"

"I don't even want to meet him" Lesso got up again, with her cruel director's facade, she hit the cane against the ground emphasizing her next words "So, was that all? Is that why you wanted to call me?"

"Yes, just to let you know to prepare your best clothes, because Y/N is getting married soon"

Dovey only listened as her companion's footsteps receded and with her, small murmurs, only affirming Dovey's theory.

———————————————————————————

Unfortunately for Lesso, the dance came faster than she could process. Before she least wanted to know it, Dovey had introduced stupid, muscular, pretty face Prince Henry and Y/N and forced them into the middle of the room to do a little waltz.

"Don't you think they make a cute couple?" Dovey asked

"Oh yes, can you imagine how cute their babies would be?" Emma asked.

“They will have beauty and courage alike”

Lesso only felt her blood boil. She promised herself (and Y/N) that she wouldn't kill anyone again, but at that moment, the bloody prince had a red target painted across the middle of his face, taunting Leonora. One more torture wouldn't hurt anyone… except him.

"What?!" Emma's loud scream snapped Lesso out of her thoughts, causing her to let out a growl to get the attention of her companions.

"How much do they murmur?"

"Dovey just told me that Prince Henry is planning to propose to Y/N tonight." Emma groaned and clapped her hands, showing her excitement.

"What?"

“At least, the young prince confessed to me this morning. He said he would take her to the balcony to do it” commented Dovey trying to hide her emotion.

"There they go!" Emma pointed out.

And indeed, both were heading to the balcony, getting away from the bustle of people.

Without thinking about it, Leonora got up from her chair and began to follow the young people, until she found her beloved, with her back turned and completely alone.

"Y/N" Leonora murmured, causing the girl to turn around and give her a smile.

"Hi!"

"Where is the prince?"

"I punched him when he tried to kiss me"

Both women laughed, knowing that no one could be lucky enough to kiss Y/N's lips. Nobody except Leonora.

"He's an idiot"

"Yeah, next time Dovey wants to find me a boyfriend, I hope she finds a better one."

"There won't be a next one"

"Honey, we won't know, if we carry on like this…"

"I don't want to continue like this" Leonora cut off Y/N's sentence while her arms hugged her girl's waist. "Yes this is the feeling the got from hiding you, I don't want to feel it again" the dean buried her head in the crook of Y/N's neck.

"Are you sure, my love?" Y/N's soft but firm hands took Leonora's face, forcing her to look at her and be honest. “I know how much your reputation has cost you and I wouldn't want it to be affected by me. We can be discreet…”

"Fuck discretion, I just don't want to see you in the arms of another jerk like that Henry guy"

And without further ado, Lesso planted a kiss on her beloved's lips, proving that the love he feels for her is worth much more than her stupid reputation.

Carefully, Y/N encircled her girlfriend's neck and stood on her toes deepening the kiss full of feelings, affection and true love, in the light of the full moon.

"I told you, you owe me five doubloons" Dovey joked as she and Emma watched as their friend Leo finally admitted her love for that girl.

“It amazes me, how being so different, they seem to work well"

"She's different" Dovey pointed at Y/N with a look "Lesso is just… Lesso"

Note:

Maybe tomorrow I'll upload a little message for my followers for Christmas… but if you don't see it, Merry Christmas!

I hope you enjoy it

I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments

taglist: @littlebitchsposts

message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!

#the school for good and evil #lady lesso x reader #lady lesso #lady leonora lesso x reader #lady leonora lesso #leonora lesso x reader #leonora lesso #sge #sge movie #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #clarissa dovey #professor dovey

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matchsumu · 3 months

Text

Lost

description: now that he’s lost you, winning means nothing

genre: angst to open ending (i cannot commit to angst, it’s just too sad)

warnings: anxiety, substance use as a coping mechanism

Kageyama Tobio knew that he had grown up too soon when it was too late;

when smiles were rare to come by, and never managed to reach his eyes; when he pushed everyone that he loved away (because people can’t leave you if they’re already gone); when his determination to succeed turned into an obsession.

Kageyama Tobio knew that he had lost himself when even you couldn’t find him.

You weren’t there to will the clouds away, so he stayed in the shadows- but he deserved it.

He had lost his guide, his one way out of the dark abyss his mind had become- only it was his fault.

Part of him wanted to chase after you, to apologize for what he had done, even though he had promised himself that he would never neglect you; but he did. He deserved to be locked away in the hell that he had created for himself. He didn’t deserve your compassion but even so, he longed for it.

He wanted to slump into your arms like he used to and have you hold him tightly, humming softly. He wanted your fingers in his hair. He wanted his hands in yours- they had always fit so perfectly together. He wanted to make you smile, even if it was only a slight quirk of the corner of your mouth.

Kageyama Tobio wanted to be a kid again. He wanted to be happy; back when his grandfather was still alive, back when you still loved him.

Kageyama Tobio wanted nothing more than to want nothing.

You had always told him that his determination was one of his greatest strengths, but how could it do him any good if his determination for volleyball was the reason he lost you?

He thought he had gotten better, really he did. His time at karasuno helped him outgrow his King Mentality, and you couldn’t have been more proud of him;

but good things don’t last forever.

Why did he stay late practicing all those nights? Why did he leave you alone in your shared apartment? if he had been better then maybe-

------

You had made his favorite food the day that you left. He had come home to the lights off- it was always dark when he got home- you were probably in bed. Everything felt normal until he saw the note on the table, next to a cold bowl of pork curry. Happy Anniversary! was scribbled out and replaced with i’m leaving.

Kageyama Tobio was a proud man- it was difficult not to be prideful as a professional athlete; but he was beginning to see the fault in this as well.

Playing for the Schweiden Alders was a massive accomplishment. He wanted to make you proud so he worked himself to the bone, day and night at practice; but you each took pride in different things. Kageyama believed that he needed to be the best setter, and if he couldn’t achieve this, all of his hard work would be wasted. Whereas your pride resided within an accumulation of memories. shared happiness made your heart swell. His volleyball career only mattered to you because it mattered to him. you didn’t ask for this life, yet he had forced it onto you.

He had been selfish.

His determination propelled him forwards but he didn’t know how to slow the blades. Little by little, the spinning metal chipped away at his mind until he had lost the very essence of himself. He couldn’t slow down, and in doing so Kageyama Tobio had lost the one person in his life that kept him sane.

The effects were almost immediate. His heart slowed but his mind moved at an impossible speed. He was desperately trying to keep himself from falling apart, fighting an uphill battle against his own mind. Countless nights, his thoughts were dedicated to you and what ifs.

What if he had been on time that night?

What if he had worked harder? There had to be a way he could have both, right?

But the question that plagued his mind the most frequent:

What if he just wasn’t good enough?

And that’s what it really came down to, his pride; because Kageyama Tobio was always good enough. He put in the effort required- and more- everyday at practice. He worked his way up from the bottom to be one of the best setters in all of Japan, so how did he lose with you?

But mixed within the bewildered feeling that consumed his mind, Kageyama knew that it was only a matter of time. He knew exactly why you were leaving him, and as much as he wanted to chase after you, he knew you deserved better.

-----

Even so, it sickened him how well he was playing. His first official game back was a few weeks after you had left and he had never played better. his body moved in the way he had worked so hard to train it to; every step was polished to perfection and the footwork came as naturally as breathing. Until after a particularly impressive service ace, Kageyama’s eyes glanced across the seat that was always reserved for you, only to find someone else sitting in it and that empty feeling in his chest grew a little bigger.

You were really gone. Maybe part of him had thought that you didn’t really mean it- like this was the same as your other arguments where you’d finally come around back to him. Panic began to build up in his throat and his mind clouded over.

Had he even called you?

Kageyama wiped his hands on his jersey in an attempt to dry them off. It felt like he was moving in slow motion as he walked back to the service line; jaw tightening into iron, leaving him unable to respond to Hoshiumi’s concerned question, settling for a stiff nod instead.

His joints had stiffened and his body felt too tense, but there was nothing he could do about it, only a spectator trapped in his mind, forced to watch the mechanical cyborg he had become go through the motions.

The referee’s whistle- which normally brought his mind into focus- made his body jolt and he couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling inside of him.

The ball was suddenly up in the air, a perfect, high toss; and his shoes squeaked against the gym floor: right, left, right, left. The contact was solid enough to feel his brain rattle inside his skull;

Another ace.

And as the crowd cheered his name, Kageyama Tobio hoped that somewhere, someone noticed that something was wrong with him.

Help me.

------

The vodka burned as it slid down his throat, but he didn’t care- in fact he welcomed the feeling; at least he was feeling something.

It was dark in the apartment. Kageyama refused to turn the lights on ever since you had left. He didn’t need to be reminded how empty everything was without you.

That’s what he told you, in one of his seven voicemails that he had drunkenly left before passing out on the couch.

He didn’t remember what had happened when he had woken up. After checking to see if there were any messages from you- there weren’t- he stumbled to get ready for practice.

------

This became his new routine. play a match, drink to forget his problems, leave you embarrassing voicemails, and go to practice the next day.

Why did he push you away? He could feel that something was wrong, so why did he ignore it? Why did he have to be so selfish?

Kageyama Tobio was reminded of his fear of solitude.

The silence was unbearable- suffocating. It came slowly, creeping up his chest and tightening around his neck; he was stuck in a constant state of asphyxiation and his mind had clouded over until you were the subject of every thought.

Had he always been this cold? Or had you just been there to pull his hands into yours and massage the warmth back?

Kageyama Tobio wasn’t sad, he was numb.

------

Schweiden Alders 24 vs Tachibana Red Falcons 23

The referee’s whistle was shrill in his ears and the crowd roared Kageyama's name as he made his way to the service line.

One more, just one more and then he could be done.

Were you watching him? Before, even if you couldn’t make it to a match, you would still always watch the broadcasting. He hoped you were.

“Nice serve, Kageyama,” Ushijima encouraged, snapping him out of his thoughts.

With a curt nod and another whistle from the referee, he tossed the ball high into the air and slammed it onto the other side of the court: an ace.

As the spectators cheered loudly and his team crowded around him excitedly, Kageyama Tobio couldn’t help but feel that none of this mattered if he was alone, without you by his side.

------

Hoshiumi wanted to go out to a bar to celebrate, but Kageyama just wanted to go home. He had opted for water tonight, sipping it slowly. It was cold outside and he was exhausted, Besides he normally celebrated with you and-

"Hi, Tobio."

His mouth went dry and he whirled around at the sound of your voice. What were you doing here?

“You guys played well.” you looked normal, bundled up in a big puffer jacket. His eyes didn’t miss the necklace he got you a few years ago with his initials on it.

“Did you enjoy the game?” Kageyama finally remembered how to speak.

“No, not really.”

He knew that his mouth had fallen agape, but couldn’t manage to shut it.

Of course you didn’t- why would he even ask you that? This was the first time he had seen you in a month and that was the first thing he said to you?

“Did you enjoy it?”

“Huh?” the question sent his mind through another whirlwind.

“Well, you just looked really tense out there, that’s all.” you had said it so nonchalantly, it almost went over his head.

Every emotion Kageyama Tobio had felt since you left immediately pumped in his heart and spread through his veins, warming his body. You noticed. Of course you had noticed.

“I miss you.” his voice came out croaky, but he didn’t care.

“I miss you too, Tobio.” your eyes softened and crinkled a little at the corners. You always made that face when you forced a smile.

Don’t leave. Don’t leave me alone, not again.

He didn’t think that he would physically be able to handle it if you had turned up, only to disappear again.

“Wanna grab coffee?”

“Isn’t it a little too late for caffeine?” Kageyama wished his soul would separate from his body so he could punch himself in the gut. Why would he even say that? Of course he wanted to go with you.

You snorted, “Doesn’t have to be coffee, dumbass. I just wanted to talk more, that’s all.”

“Tea sounds good.” His heart ached deep in his chest, but he wasn’t sure if it was from heartbreak or hope. Everything felt so normal, almost as if the past month never happened. How were you able to continue on with your life so easily?

Did all those years that you had spent loving each other really mean nothing?

Of course, you could throw that same question back at him. Kageyama hated himself.

“Let’s get out of here then.”

He nodded, quickly gathering his things.

He would not mess this up– whatever this was or could be.

#haikyuu!!#kageyama x reader #tobio kageyama #haikyuu x reader #kageyama angst #tobio x reader

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vclvetfleur · 10 months

Text

Obedient Chapter 1

roman roy x fem! reader

Summary: After college you hadn't been able to land a job. You hadn't even been able to book a single interview. After spending a night with your old college roommate, you see how lavish her life has been after becoming Kendall Roy's assistant. After a long night of helping her move in, she offers to help you out. She unsure of what exactly she might be getting you into with getting you an interview at Waystar Royco. But it was better than being unemployed.

Warnings: Degrading and implied drug abuse

Word Count : 3.6k

Notes: AHHHH I finally wrote a chapter. I hope you guys enjoy it!

Chapter 1: The meeting

You laid flat on the new couch your college friend had gotten. “Jess, Jesus fuck, when is this thing coming?” you whined, shooting back up to look her way with a pouty lip. She had been bent under her television to figure out how to exactly plug in her Amazon TV stick. Jess’ new job had afforded her the luxury of not just a new couch, but a new television, new coffee table, new bed and a brand new apartment. If you could even call this place an apartment. It was giant. Jess truly got lucky, at least that’s what you always thought. You had to be lucky if you saw how Jess and you were back in college, stealing and flirting your way just to feed yourselves or feed into your lifestyles. You had even convinced a man to pay for your wardrobe once.

“I don’t know, I’m not the tracker now am I?” she spewed out in annoyed tone. “Can you just help me? Shine a light or something.”

You hopped off the couch and grabbed your phone from the glass top coffee table. You waddled over and turned the flash on. After watching the few attempts of her trying to squeeze her hand into the right angle of the HDMI bit, your anxiousness reached a level of annoyance.

“Just let me.” You huffed before grabbing it and tilting your head to attempt to do what she had, failing just the same.

“I told you! It’s fucking impossible.” She laughed.

“You should’ve done this before hooking up the tv.”

“Oh wow, cause I really thought plugging this in was going to be so hard. Shut up.”

“AHH!” You shouted in excitement. You hopped up and down and revealed your hand from under the tv and clapped your hands together with the phone in-between them as the flash shined on the wall. “I did it! I did it!” You giggled. You pulled the cable down and plugged it into the outlet before rushing back to the couch. You grabbed the remote and turned the television on. You continued to gloat on your achievement.

“Yeah yeah, enough. Let me see when the pizzas almost here.” She grabbed her own phone, swiping through it to find the time estimate.

Ding. Ding. Ding.

Her phone was constantly buzzing. “Is that the pizza? Is the driver lost?” You questioned. Jess’ face had dropped a while ago. Ever since she had picked her phone up. It was her boss. She absolutely despised the job. That wasn’t true. She didn’t despise it. She was just constantly worried. She was constantly worrying about her boss, Kendall Roy. She was his assistance. And he never understood the boundaries of the job.

“No, it’s just work.” Her lip twitched on the side to show some kind of pity. But pity for who? Kendall? Was he in some kind of issue again? Or for you? For ruining the night. “Just ignore it” You shrugged.

“That’s why you’re unemployed” She joked. Your jaw dropped as your hand fell on top of your chest as if you’ve been shot. “Ouch” You said sarcastically.

“No, no I’m sorry. It’s just, I just don’t think you’d understand.” She quickly tried to recover. But she was right. You didn’t understand. You don’t understand what Jess’ job really consisted of. She had a lot to deal with. While you, regardless of being unemployed, you didn’t have to go score drugs for your ex drug addicted billionaire boss. You had just graduated college, same with Jess, but you thought Jess was lucky. She just left college and she was already involved in such a high profile, high paying job. She went from a dorm room to a studio in Brooklyn to a 2 bedroom penthouse in Manhattan because it was a fasted commute to her job. And because her job could afford for her to even pay for it. While you couldn’t even land an interview. You were just hopping from one job listing to the next. But thankfully you did have a fund to help you pay for your way for just a couple more months.

Jess found this job in the oddest way. You actually met up with her the night after it happened. She had been working for a restaurant when she met the Roy’s. And Kendall had just fired his assistant over the restaurant they were just sitting at for ruining the dinner reservations. Apparently, the place and time really mattered to the investors that much. So, while she waited on their table, Kendall asked her if she would want to work for him. It was ridiculous, sure, but she was the only one trying to not make a scene with him around since everyone working was staring, except her.

It was impulsive, but hey, look at her now.

“Uh, the pizza’s gonna- uh- be here in like 6 minutes.” She felt guilty. She knew it was out of reach, but Kendall would not stop bothering her with text after text. She thinks he might be out drinking again because his texts sound irrational. This was right after the huge blow out with his father, which was very public. And everyone watched as he came to crawl back and basically publicly beg for daddy’s attention back with that pitiful interview he gave. “Hey seriously- I’m sorry- that was super uncool. It’s just- Kendall is not really that well put as he seems.”

“No, It’s fine Jess. Seriously. You have lavish job with a psycho boss.” You tried to joke it off. You weren’t annoyed about the joke, just the constant apologizing. Jess wasn’t usually the one to really apologize so excessively. But her job really changed her. She was so much more nervous and shakier. As if anything she said could be used against her, even if it was a joke.

“I didn’t mean-“ You cut her off.

“Let’s just watch tv. What was the movie you wanted to watch tonight?” You tried to remove the subject from the air. It wasn’t a great feeling knowing your friend pitied you. Despite the awkwardness you tried to keep a grin on. You didn’t get fazed much. It didn’t take a lot to hurt your feelings. You’ve heard worse and meaner things before. You were scattering to move things you’ve just placed on the table for some room for the pizza when it finally gets here. You got up and went to her fridge before turning your head back to Jess quickly.

“My place might be hiring” She blurted out. She didn’t mean to. There weren’t really any other assistant positions. Shiv doesn’t work there. Her husband Tom had his own little assistant, Greg. Logan had way too many to even count. And Kendall wasn’t that trusting despite the restaurant ordeal. Except maybe Roman. “I’ll ask!”

But those words were the 5 words you heard nearly every week for weeks now. It was an exhausting thing to hear.

Your shoulders dropped down as you watched her frantically type on the keyboard. You don’t know exactly what she was saying, but whatever it was, it was a lot.

“Dude, I’ll be fine, don’t ev-“ You started before Jess put a hand up. “No. Don’t.” She persisted. Was this a mistake? Yes. Will she regret it? Possibly. She didn’t want to give you off to the lions, but god the money was so good.Jess was being paid 16k. A month, with a bonus here and there. Just to listen to Kendall whine and ask her to run around. Sure was it a lot of work and stressful? Yes, but she knew you could probably handle it. Plus you’ve met Kendall before from time to time. He seemed normal enough.

She put her phone down and finally paid you attention. “Okay, done. Now let me search the movie up.”

You both spent the rest of the night just drinking and eating pizza throughout the movie. With little jokes being told to each other here and there. But it got late and you decided to go home.

You spent the next couple of days on your laptop as you were doing what you did best, ignoring all your issues. You see a notification pop up on the corner. Jess texted you. You clicked on the text.

‘i got you an interview!!!! tomorrow 1pm.’

‘Kendall said he figured it out for you!’

You went completely pale. You didn’t think it was possible. Finally. You finally got an interview. And you didn’t even have to put in a resume or a super fucking cover letter. You could not express the happiness you felt. You texted Jess back immediately.

The next morning you got up early. You were way too excited to sleep throughout the entire morning. It was just how your brain worked, I guess.

You spent this time to get ready. You wanted to leave an impression. This was a multi-billion dollar company filled with millionaires and billionaires. You couldn’t stand out. Thankfully, you had an outfit saved for an interview. It wasn’t anything lavish, but it looked nice. You set it on your bed and went into the bathroom to take a shower. You made sure to scrub down your body as hard as possible. Your mind constantly reminded you of the people there. You made sure you smelt as though you had just run through a field full of every type of flower to ever exist. Or as if you had put yourself in the washing machine a dozen times. Whatever sounded cleaner.

You sat on top of your bathroom counter as you blow dried your hair. You tried to get every single bit of hair to look as perfectly placed as possible.

You went through your make up and then started the rest of your day. You sat at your bed with coffee and a piece of toast with almond butter on top of it as you watched tv before you had to leave. Specifically, you watched ATN. You needed to be in that mindset.

Once you finished your breakfast, you got dressed, sprayed on deodorant and perfume and decided it was time to go. Your nerves were through the roof. You checked the time. 11:30. You undid the caps of your medicine and took them with the last bit of coffee you had in your cup.

Unfortunately for you, childhood trauma left you with a lot of crazy pills you needed to take in the morning and night.

You left your apartment and walked down to the train. The ride was agonizing as you waited for each stop. You left the station once you hit your stop Cortland Street. You walked down a few blocked before hitting the building. You stared up at it as you couldn’t believe this is where you were possibly going to start working. You watched men in nice fitted suits that probably costed two times what you pay monthly for your studio. You shook of your nerves and walked into the lobby and then up to the receptionist.

“Uh- hi, I’m here for an interview.” You tried not to stumble on your words.

“Name.” She sounded unamused. She barely gave you a look. She seemed as though she had no intention to either. You gave her your name as she tried to search you up. She finally looked up from her screen and pointed at the turnstile. “Floor 52”

You nodded and walked through and to the elevators. You stepped in as you hit the button. 60 floors? Seemed excessive.

You watched as the numbers lit up as we passed each floor. Each floor just caused more and more anxiety in you. You didn’t know if you had it in you to even work in a place like this. What if you did bad at in the interview? Oh god, did you forget your resume? You panicked. You opened your bag for the millionth time since leaving the apartment to check for the folder again. You had a constant anxiety about losing things. You probably checked if you lost your phone or key about 10 times while on the walk from your apartment to the subway. And then some more.

The elevator dings and the silver doors open to reveal offices. You stepped out to only see walls and walls of just glass. Seemed redundant for an office if they could hear and see you, but okay. People passed through with papers or phones in their hand as they were trying to keep their heads low enough to get unnoticed. You walked around before seeing Jess with Kendall. She grins big before sending you a wave and then a gesture telling you to come over.

You obliged and headed towards her. “Hi!” you greeted before reaching to give her a hug.

“Kendall. You remember y/n? She’s here for the interview.” Jess grinned.

“Of course. Uh- ya. Uh-so, he’s not really here right now. He’s uh- fucking idiot- he’s late to his own fucking interview for his own assistant.” Kendall seemed to be annoyed as he was looking around. “Fucking idiot. I told that-“ He stopped himself as he tried to breathe through his annoyance. Jess’ head shot from you to him as her face dropped. She was left with the impression that Kendall maybe needed another intern. Logan couldn’t possibly need another one. Tom had Greg and seemed contempt.

“Oh, my interview isn’t with you?” You sounded confused, trying to sound as polite as you should be right now in this moment .

“No-uh you’re interviewing for Roman’s assistant.” He informed you quickly. Jess looked at you with bulged eyes. She seemed to have no clue about this. You had looked at her with a moment of confusion of why she seemed so worried. He said it as if it was not a huge deal. But for Jess, she knew she wouldn’t ever set this up if she knew it was for Roman.

“That’s fine, I can wait for him.”

“No, you shouldn’t. Let me just call him.” Kendall tried to cover up his own brothers mistakes. He walked away before checking his phone and putting it up to his own ear. “Uh-why don’t you just get a coffee or a snack in the break room til he gets here” he whisper spoke as he held her hand over the phone speaker.

Kendall seemed sweet and considerate. I don’t understand why Jess had such an issue dealing with him honestly. He didn’t seem bad. Maybe nicer than what I’ve seen of the other members on the board honestly. Those interviews, gosh. They were absolute messes. Kendall was a mess sure, but at least he shows a bit of remorse.

Before you could expect it, which honestly, unless you had even heard about Roman, no one knew what to expect from him other than utter chaos and dumbass bullshit. The elevators dinged and revealed who your interviewer was.

Wow. What an entrance.

“Alright cock licker, I’m finally here.” He announced to the entire floor. People’s heads barely even moved.

A short man with a stripped, what you can only think of was designer, dress shirt with a navy blue suit and enough gel in his hair to glue back the titanic together waltzed in. He walked through as if he basically owned the company as if he was THE Logan Roy himself.

Kendall power walked towards him. “You’re late to your own interview for your own fucking assistant dipshit.”

“Relax, I was busy paying the homeless people on the subway to fight” He smirked, waiting for a reaction.

“Yeah like you’d ever even been down that filthy rat hole.” Kendall scoffed.

Oh wow. Maybe he was as bad as Jess made him seem. I guess he liked to play Social Justice Warrior whenever he liked to.

“Yeah okay, where are they then? I’m ready for a black coffee.” Roman shoved past Kendall before finally laying his eyes on you. He would way it was cause he didn’t recognize you, but he barely even recognized people within a 20 feet radius of his own office. “Okay yea, come to my office I guess.” He spoke to you. He turned around and put his hand up, motioning you to follow him. Almost like how you would with a dog.

You nodded and followed before looking at jess with a look that could only be described by ‘what the fuck did you get me into?’

“Sit.” He ordered before plopping down on his leather chair in front of his desk. He laid back before finally feeling adjusted and looking up at you.

His eyes met yours before you immediately shifted them away from his. You grabbed a folder out of your duffle bag as you were ready to get your paperwork out before being interrupted.

“What the fuck are you doing? Are you turning in your fucking homework or something? Oh god you were that kinda kid huh? The one to remind the teacher of homework. God. Ew. No I cannot have that. Put that shit away.” He sure was pushy. Was he trying to upset you so you’d leave? What was the point of being a dick?

“Uhh sorry I just thought you wanted to see my resume or something” You shrugged. You tried to keep a calm composure. You needed this. I guess you can handle this kind of abuse for a bit. Maybe just until you had enough. Which you were pretty sure you’d make enough.

“Uhh” he mocked “No I don’t need to see that. You’re an assistant not whatever the fuck these other people do.” He gestured to everyone outside. You looked out and saw Kendall and Jess shooting glances at you. They knew what they had just out you up to. Jess feeling worse about it than Kendall did. You bit the inside of your own cheek to keep yourself from saying whatever you wanted to actually say.

“My bad.” You quicky apologized. “So, what questions are you gonna ask me then?”

“Uhh can you run to get me coffee?” He prompted.

“Now?” You shot him a confused, but annoyed look.

“Yeah. I’m hiring an assistant. Not a hooker. I would like if you dressed like one though. But I can’t hire someone who can’t do something simple like buy fucking medium whole milk latte.” Okay wow he was really annoying.

“Yeah, I can order coffee.” You said blankly.

“Good, go get one for me across the street.” He shooed you with his hand.

“Now?”

“No shit. Ugh I thought having an assistant wasn’t gonna require training. Do I need to keep dog treats in here to reward you? You’re not gonna piss on the floor, right? You don’t need that much training.” He tried to stop himself from giggling at his own jokes. He stood up before pulling his wallet out of his back pocket. He flipped it open and pulled out a $50. He handed it over to you and sat back down.

You stood there with the money, confused. “You really want me to do that? Right now?” You questioned again.

“Goooooood. Yes. This counts for your interview so you know, get to it or whatever the fuck.” He shooed before going onto his phone.

You nodded quietly before leaving the office. I guess you had to go get him what he asked for. God what a major fucking douchebag. I mean you’ve seen how he’s acted over social media and tv, but never did you think he was this bad.

Jess rushed over to you. “Y/n Oh my god, I’m so sorry I didn’t know. I thought Kendall just meant he was gonna get another assistant” She frantically explained.

“Its fine Jess. I guess I gotta get the oily weasel a fucking latte.” You scoffed. You held her arm to reassure her you were okay and not annoyed with her. She couldn’t of known.

“What? That’s what he said?” She tried to rationalize what Roman even asked for. You nodded before getting in the elevator. Jess almost walked in before hearing Roman from his office. “Hey! Come on, this isn’t a two people job now!” You rolled your eyes and hit the L button.

You quickly made your coffee run, making sure to get something for yourself, since you guess he was paying for it. You grabbed your matcha and his latte before heading back to the office. You walked in before setting down the cup and money on his desk.

“Ooooh what’s that? You go through rehab too? My brother drinks that shit.” He continued to try to strike as many nerves as he can. He really had a big mouth. It almost as if he let every intrusive thought that came to mind out.

You sat back down before taking a sip of your own drink. “Nope. So what else are you gonna ask or are you gonna make me do more embarrassing shit for free?” You finally let your annoyance out. You might regret it, but fucking hell, you could not spend the afternoon being someone’s little errand boy with no compensation.

“You’re already hired. Ya just send it whatever the fuck you need. I don’t know, ask Jess how to do all that shit, but ya I guess this latte is fine enough.” He hid his smile before taking a sip from the latte you gotten him.

You sat up a bit straight as you set your drink down. “That’s it?”

He nodded before furrowing his eyebrows at you. “Ya. What?”

“I just expect to-“ Roman quicky cut you off. You never liked being cut off. It was really one of your pet peeves. You couldn’t stand it. But I guess you needed to get use to it with this job now.

“Just do whatever I ask you to, okay? You seem obedient enough.” He rolled his eyes before putting his feet up on his desk.

Notes: Next chapter is up!

Chapter 2

#succession #succession hbo #roman roy x reader #roman roy fanfic #roman roy x you #roman roy #kendall roy #shiv roy #tom wambsgans #hbo succession #succession fanfic #connor roy #logan roy #cousin greg #hbo max #hbo series #hbo original #greg hirsch #siobhan roy

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shkika · 7 months

Note

Got any Headcanon backstory of how each iterator was named? Like, how did No Significant Harassment get his name? How did Five Pebbles get his name? Etc, etc. I'm curious what you think!

OHH what a fun ask to make up stuff on actually. Sure I have some headcanons. Iterator names are so so fun, because there's a lot you can do with them.

Different local groups could have themes perhaps on their names. Or perhaps their names are phrases or sayings or derive from them. I will go with each colony having their individual meaning for the iterator name.

Sliver of Straw- I've talked about her name extensively here! (x) Please check it out, because I LOVE her name. Basically means needle in a haystack + shortening it to SOS is genius. Just the best.

Looks To The Moon- I don't know if this is the most original take, but I do think her name has a lot of meaning especially if you take into account that she's one of the first or at least an extremely old iterator. I compare it to the landing on the Moon in a way even if it sounds silly. This impossible to reach place is now something well withing reach. Her name is to represent looking at opportunity at the impossible and striving to achieve it. Which can connect to.. well answering the impossible ascension question.

Five Pebbles- This is such a hard one for me. But since the game makes such strong parallels between those two. Making them opposites and such it makes sense to see that in their names. While Looks to the Moon's name is grand and aiming for high achievements. Five Pebbles' name could perhaps be about the smaller mundane things. Finding the solution in a little nook or cranny somewhere close to you. A place where you'd least expect it.

One name is to aim hight and strive for the impossible. The other is about staying low and finding the answer in the small things in life. Which is hilarious if you look at their actual characters. With FP making the bold dangerous decisions and experiments and LTTM vibing like a much more grounded character than him. I love those two.

No Significant Harassment- People find his name really weird which is amusing, because it's really not! To me at least. It can very simply mean "No real harm done". Which I think is probably the intention and it suits his funny guy personality quite a lot. In a way his name could mean peace! A fun hc I discussed with @creeket is that perhaps before NSH was built the colony was divided into four factions/houses that hated each other. The iterator was a reason for them to unite and work on something together which is what the four connected diamonds on his forehead represent.

Seven Red Suns- Okay this is one of the names I struggle the most with. My headcanons about SRS which I've mentioned before is that their colony is very religious and made them as an actual god, treating him as an actual all knowing god much muuch more than the other iterators are treated to the point Seven Red Suns has actual political power (which they really don't want to have). So I think their name is supposed to express how grand and impressive they are. Seven as in complete, perfect. Red is a royal, regal color and of course Suns further cementing their godhood. It makes me think of how the sun is often personified or given a deity to represent it. It can be a cruel leader that dries the land, but also give life and light.

Of course there's many ways to take it in completely different ways. Red stars if I'm not mistaken are the coldest.

Chasing Wind- I also really really like this iterator name. I like to imagine it as either one of two things or both. Chasing after something that is right in front of you yet just barely out of grasp. Like y'know the wind! Or your head is Chasing wind. Having an abundance of thoughts or ideas. Your imagination and creativity running wild and free like the wind!

Unparalleled Innocence- It's so on the nose haha. There is no buts or anything that is a direct opposite to her name in my headcanons. She's a very well meaning innocent person. She was the last iterator to be ever made and lacks a lot more context than the other. She was based of the concept of a child. Which of course children are known for their innocence and unique approach to the world.

#ask #anonymous #rain world #rainworld #lore rambles #kiki rambles #this was a lot of fun #i hope its an enjoyable read as well!#it took me a while bahah #ah #as for grey wind?#she doesnt count :)#in my version of the story #thats not a name given by the ancients #she gave that to herself.

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nelissecrectplace · 11 months

Text

Void

ch6

word count: 3k

language: ‘evi- child (affectionate), Skàwng- idiot, muntxate- female spouse / wife, swizaw- arrow

description: With extra help you were successful in speeding up the training of your Iknimaya. Your hopes had been fulfilled as you are thrusted into the battlefield. Though you becoming an adult is not the only thing that has changed as Neteyams family is targeted by the sky people. Sorrows and new threats rip you from the forest back to the dreaded place you grew up.

—————

“Woah didn’t know you were such a natural” Neteyam said as he looked at you with shock and pride.

“To think I would learn faster than the mighty Neteyam” The teasing words left your lips as you laid down your bow striding over to the man. His eyes did not leave you as you approached watching your every movement.

“I am quite sad our time will be cut short because of your natural ability.” Reaching out to you Neteyam pulled you in by your waist. There was a slightly teasing tone to his words as his eye brows lifted. Giggling you looked up at the warrior with loving eyes taking one of his braids between your fingers.

“Our time together will be on the battlefield.”

Yours words were filled with anticipation but Neteyams look did not reflect your feeling as a sorrow seemed to warp his face.

“What is wrong Teyum?”

“Y/n, I fear nothing can prepare you for the sights you will see.” Cupping your face His yellow eyes looked into yours. “I do not want you to change, please stay my y/n?”

His words were almost pleading as he leaned his head on yours. You did not quite know what he meant by his words but you responded in the only way you knew.

“I will always be yours Neteyam.” Softly pressing your lips to his you felt butterflies erupt. A first kiss with a promise, was there any better way to solidify this memory in your minds?

Breaking apart a shaky breath left Neteyams lips as you felt his chest rise and fall. Bringing you back in he kissed you as if he was a starving animal that found its favorite food. A soft sound left your lips as guided his tongue into your mouth, not quite knowing what to do you simply followed along hoping you were preforming well. Lungs starting to burn you pulled apart chest heaving with excitement and lack of breath. A blush rose to your cheeks as you looked at Neteyams whose pupils were blown slightly wider than usual.

The need for more seemed to consume Neteyam as he looked at your flustered state, cheeks rosy and panting. You were more beautiful than any sight he had seen with your newly braided hair flowing down, longer than any na’vis braid in the clan. Feeling his eyes scan you you brung the breaded braids to your front falling into your old habit of hiding.

“You look beautiful no need to hide muntxate.”

Neteyams words made you impossibly more fluster as he spat out the title. Not quite knowing what to do with yourself you quickly changed the subject.

“Shouldn’t I be getting my first kill to bring back to the clan?” Nervousness was evident in your voice as it quivered. Neteyam only laughed at your cuteness as he wrapped his hands around you guiding you through the forests.

“Let’s get on with it then, shall we?”

~~~~~

The kill was quickly and easy, because of your skill as a warrior. You brung the animal back to the clan with pride seeping from your ever pore. Jake was please with your fast progress and achievements while your father did not express his excitement. Antu seemed quite disappointed that his little girl was to fight alone side him sooner than expect. He knew you were fastly approaching seventeen but he could not come to peace with the thought of you being a warrior.

You did not miss your fathers sour mood as you tracked through the mountains to the ikrans home. It slightly hurt seeing him so down at an achievement you felt was great but you kept on trying to keep your spirts high. Jake approved the journey right away which is extremely rare but you felt you were ready to claim your ikran. The clan leader had expressed his want for you to scout on their next raid, you father visibly scowled when he made this suggestion but did not apose his clan leader.

Although you were drowning in confidence and excitement you felt slight fear in the back of your mind. You wanted to prove to you father that you were ready, a strong warrior who could fight along side him, and this was your only chance to do that. You did not want the tension and disputes in your home for the past couple months to be for nothing, desiring to prove your father wrong.

Thankfully your thoughts were brought to an end as your eyes set upon the dozens of ikrans in front of you. Almost as if sensing your doubts start to rise Neteyam placed a hand on your shoulder looking at you with an expression that needed no words to communicate. Turning behind you your eyes scanned the small group of warriors that companied you including your father and kiri.

Sending a thumbs up kiri supported you from afar. Whipping back around you took light yet confident steps towards the beasts. Wind shot past you as ikran after ikran took off until one didn’t. The beasts body moved menacingly towards you as its beady eyes zero in on your form. It was beautiful with a glowing blue and green coloring mirroring the ilu from your childhood in an eerie way. Brown marking covered it’s body instead of black and you couldn’t help but feel humored, of course the different colored ikran would chose you.

Your slight amusement was short lived as the beast jerked its head out towards you. Its jaws clamped harshly on the air as a roar breached its throat. Heart beating into your throat your body began to move on its own diving around the beast pursuit as you eventually wrapped the rope around its face. You heard the hoots and hollers of your companions but it was as if you were underwater barley being able to hear them as you wrestled with the beast.

It looked as if you were bull riding as you jerked around on the ikran, it felt like hours had passed as you struggled to make the bond. Your muscles burned as you tried to control the animals using all your strength in the chaotic moments. Eventually the bond was made as the noises of the world seemed to come back. You felt the ikran breath as you looked over to the group pure joy painted on your face. Your clan members whooped and hollered as your father wore a proud look. The sight made your heart swell.

“The first flight seals the bond go y/n!” Ushering you to fly kiri motioned to the ledge of the cliff. You were quick to obey commanding your ikran to swoop down.

You felt a sense of freedom overtake you as you plunged off the edge. Your braid aggressively whipped behind you as the wind took your breath away. Leveling out you felt as if you were a feather floating along the wind currents of the sky feeling the wind guide you along its path.

A series of whoops knocked you out of your state of peace. Neteyam soared towards you a smile painted across his face. You could not help but laugh as his ikran circled around with yours. Copying his actions you flew around each other in harmony as a series of happy cries left you lips. You were now a warrior, one of the people, and a protector of your people.

—————————

Jake was soon to realize how beneficial it was to have a healer on the battlefield. You could not preform major operations but you could prevent fatal injury’s with your knowledge as well as guiding na’vi with instructions over your throat mic. You were an amazing asset to the raids, holding yourself in battle and supporting your fellow na’vi. When you were not scouting you were next to one of the Sullys or Antu aiding them in their advances.

It did seem that your father was always aiding you as well never letting you stay out of his sight. It annoyed you but you knew the man wouldn’t change his behaviors, he was always looking out for his little girl no matter how grown you claimed to be. Antu was not perfect so on rare ocasiones he was not watching you like a hawk you and Lo’ak flew to places you shouldn’t be slightly disobeying orders to be more useful in battles. The benefits were always fruitful so the two of you did not intend to stop despite Neteyams nagging.

As you soared next to Lo’ak you thought today would be similar as you and the youngest Sully boy were put on scouting duty. Your father was with the ground, Neteyam at his parents hips, so you and Lo’ak were free from any prying eyes. Today was a supply stock up attacking the sky people’s supply train to obtain more guns, throat mics, etc.

“Bro! Let’s go down and help there’s no way those gun ships are making it here in under five!”

“Ok, but if we get caught your ass is mine!” Shouting back to Lo’ak you order Swizaw to swoop down making a swift landing on the ground. Lo’ak is quick to run past you collecting a gun. He pounded his chest slight as he did a small war cry. Laughing at his stupidity you took a gun as well slinging it around your shoulder.

“Do you even know how to shoot it?” Amused you scanned Lo’ak with a doubtful gaze.

“Unlike you, I actually do.” Cocking the gun he wore a cocky expression side eyeing you.

Opening your mouth to reply the words never left as the sounds of blades cutting through the air made you whipped your body around. immediately your hands reached for your throat mic, but there is no time for reaction as the gun ship began to fire. A blast propelled you forwards as you felt your body collide with the ground.

Yours ears rang painfully as you pried your eyes open. The pain seeping in slowly as you felt the lack of air in your lungs, body stinging and burning. Harshly being pulled up did not help the growing pain, but you simply did not have the air to respond. Panicked eyes darting around you landed on a familiar face close to yours as the sounds around you started to creep in.

“You skxáwng, What are you doing out here?! Disobeying direct orders!”

Although he was scolding Neteyam did not glance your way as he rushed to his ikran. His movements were fast and panicked as he placed you on his Ikran.

“Neteyam..” Words weak and quiet you attempted to respond to the man as your breathing stabilized.

“Do not speak!” The words almost came out as a hiss, disapproval and frustration evident in his tone. Keeping your mouth shut you did just as he told too busy trying to take everything in as the stings of your wounds got increasingly worse.

~~~~~~

In your opinion Neteyams Ikran landed way too soon as you and Lo’ak were stood in front of a fuming jake. Ears dropped down you avoided your clan leaders angry gaze bringing you hair to the front of you. The stinging of your wounds seemed long forgotten under the gaze of an angry Jake.

“You guys disobeyed direct orders! You could’ve gotten yourselves killed today, you could have gotten warriors killed today!” The harshness of Jakes voice made you flinch as you reluctantly met his gaze. Although it was no longer directed at you as he slightly shifted towards Lo’ak.

“You relize Y/n almost got killed because of you!” Eyes ridden with guilt Lo’ak took a quick glance towards you, his tail drooped. You also felt guilt arise as you looked at the boy he was not the only one to blame as you were quick to go along with his plan. Luckily, the lecture did not last long as Kiri was quick to intervene.

“Father my brother and y/n are literally bleeding.” Warm hands were placed around you as kiri looked into her father a stern look painted over her features.

“Ugh, go get patched up. No flying for two months, the both of you!” His stern voiced raised as he turned away from the two of you. Anger was evident in his stride but you payed no mind as you quickly made your way to the healers tent. Although the situation did not improve as you sat to get your wounds treated, as your father was soon to enter.

“What were you thinking Y/n” You did not know if you flinched because of the paste put on your wound or the harsh tone of your father. He never used your name. “You put everyone in danger, you almost died!” Crossing his arms your father glared down at you with disappointment.

“Father I only wanted to help!”

“I do not want excuses, you will not be seen on a battlefield for a month.” Sternly your father gave you your punishment swirly exiting the tent. Feeling embarrassed by the public scolding you casted a shy gaze to Lo’ak and Kiri who was working on your wounds.

“ I am sorry if i had not purposed the idea we would not be in this.”

“It’s not your fault Lo’ak we both got ourselves in this mess.” Shooting him a smile you pushed down your self loathing, attempting to comfort the boy.

“In my opinion are both Skxáwngs.” Jokingly kiri threw out her jab trying to lighten the mood. A small smile graced your lips at her attempt grateful she was not scolding you as well.

“I will tell the next to come in.”

Humming in response kiri began to worn on Lo’ak. Dusting off your loincloth you swiftly left informing the next na’vi in line. Walking to your pod you did not make it far before a familiar voice reached your ears.

“What you did today was stupid.”

“Neteyam I have heard enough scolding today, so if that’s all you intend to do save it.”

Neteyam huffed slightly displeased with your attitude yet continue to walk along side you.

“We are only worried, scared even, no one wants to lose you. When I saw you on the ground you do not understand the panic that raced through me.”

“I am right here Neteyam. No measly explosion can take me out.” Grasping his hand with yours you looked up at the latter. His loving gaze soon fell upon you as he squeezed your hand.

“Just,,stay with me tonight?”

Humming in response you hugged the boys arms leaning into his body. Neteyam felt a comfort as he felt your body heat mix with his.

It was almost as if he needed the contact to reassure himself you were here safe and in his arms. He could not lose the only thing that seemed to keep him sane in this time of war.

———————-

Without the duty of a warrior your free time seemed to be so large it was driving you insane. Of course you went back to healing but there was only so much too do the days there were no battles. You found yourself spending a large amount of your time with Kiri and Lo’ak. Today the three of you plus tuk and spider went exploring the forest out of pure boredom. The human and twelve year old ended up being swept up along the way. The only reason Tuk accompanied was her threat to tell her dad, you were already in enough trouble as is.

“Keep up Tuk, your slowing us down!” The annoyance in Lo’aks voice was prevalent.

“Do not speak to her like that!” Quick to stand up for her little sister kiri scolded her younger brother only to get an eye roll in return.

“We should be turning back anyway eclipse is near.” Pointing out the obvious you motioned to the sky. Your comment was long forgotten though as Spider called out too the three of you. The others seemed to rush too his side while you walked behind lazily.

You had a growing distaste for the human ever since you had seen Zey die. You knew it was not his fault and he had no connection to those people but you could not look at the sky person without feeling slight disgust since. Humans were a parasite on your planet and there’s not much anyone could do too change your mind. You had a slightly hoped to see him half eaten when you arrived but you were disappointed, as he and Lo’ak were hunched over something.

“What is so interesting?” Shoving the human to the side you peered at the ground. The sight made your blood run cold as you examined the giant print.

“It’s from Na’vi but not one of ours.” Standing Lo’ak announced his observation begging to track the prints. Harshly grabbing his shoulder a tense silence seemed to fall among the group as Lo’ak sent you a confused look.

“Neteyam mentioned they were using avatars to fight occasionally a while ago. I think we should head back it is dangers!”

“Don’t be a wuss Y/n” Shrugging your hand off his shoulder Lo’ak slightly laughed as he and Spider continue their tracking. Shooting Kiri a worried look your friend only shrugged her shoulder as she follow. Reluctantly, you did the same feeling a horrible feeling arise in your stomach.

The feeling only seemed to intensify when you caught sight of the na’vi in camo. They were too far away to hear anything but you knew that the four of you should not be here. They wielded guns that could take you out before you even killed half of them, the thought made you shiver.

“We should call this in.” Spider stated as you looked at Lo’ak with worry.

“Do not! We are not suppose to be here.”

“I got to y/n; this is big.” Flashing you with sympathetic eyes Lo’ak began to call it in telling his father all the details. Everyone visibly cringed as he listed your names to his father, knowing you were dead once you all returned to highcamp. Following jakes orders the four of you began to quietly make your way out of there. Tuk led the way with you not far behind her trying to keep the girl a safe distance from you.

Your efforts seemed to be in vain as a soldier came out grabbing the young girl by her queue. You felt panic arise as you quickly drew your bow not wasting any time to shoot it through the aggressors skull. Your one kill was futile tho as three avatar warriors were quick to press your body into the ground pulling painfully on your braid. Lo’ak and spider drew their bows but it was no use as the enemy already had you, Kiri and Tuk in their hold.

Seeing their odds the two surrendered throwing down their bows as two of the na’vi’s on you left to hold the boys. You were painfully brought up by your queue by the soldier as they held you aggressively keeping you in place. Kiri chanted to be calm in a state of panic but it did not help as the soldiers shushed her.

You felt lost and helpless in this avatars hold as the soldiers spoke a language you could not understand. Unlike the sullys your father refused to let you speak or learn a lick of english. You only understood a bit of the conversation as Lo’ak states he ‘did not speak english to idiots’. If you were not in this situation it would make you laugh but no humor could be found in the moment.

Terror shot through your body as the soldier reached for his knife. A horrible scream left your lips as you pulled on the na’vis hold attempting to get to Lo’ak. You could not hear the cries of tuk or protest or Spider and Kiri as your own panic drowned them out. a darkness engulfed your vision as the only thing you could see as Lo’ak with the knife to his throat and the enemy na’vi.

Your tail harshly swept under the na’vi bringing you bring you both to the ground as they gripped your queue. At the moment of impact they slightly let go, using that to your advantage you shot up towards Quaritch. You did not have a plan as you tackled him to the ground, your only thought being to protect Lo’ak, to do what you could not do with Zey. Your moment of advantage quickly left as the knife was now to your throat as you were pulled back by your braids.

“Tie her up! She’s dangerous. The lab rats with have a blast with her”

Bending down the one you named their ‘leader’ gripped your tail. You harshly jerked it out of his grip as his lackeys tied you painfully tight too a tree. Eclipse has stuck as rain fell making the situation more uncomfortable than it already was. There was a silent tension as the soldiers held onto your friend. They seemed to constantly be taking glances towards you disgusting gazed burning into your skin. Some of them didn’t even try to hide it even poking at your tail.

Your hissed were futile as you were basically immobile besides your lower half. Hope began to leave you as minutes passed but it was not completely gone as a familiar sound breached your ears. You felt your body relax as you heard Neytiri familiar call.

It seemed to all happened so fast as The Sullys bit their captors running into the forest. Neteyam used his siblings distraction to cut you free running along side you into the forest. Soaked plants collided coldly with your skin as you rushed along side him adrenalin pumping. You couldn’t not process the bodies that had fallen on you from Neteyams arrows your mind only telling you to listen to his words and get away.

Shock was the only word to describe your state as you came to stop. Kiri had tears streaming down her face as tuk ran into her fathers arms. You could not breath as Neteyam blocked your view with his body squishing you into him. Wrapping your arms around him you felt tears prick your eyes, pulling him impossibly closer. You did not know what was going on entirely but deep down you knew this event signified change. A change you were not ready for.

———————

The change you were expecting came sooner than you thought. It has not been even two days until a anxious Neteyam approached, sadness in his eyes. Your father was next to him wearing a stone face as they entered the pod. Placing aside your weaving you were quick to stand meeting them half way.

“What is wrong?”

A deep sigh left your fathers lips as he looked at you with apologetic eyes.

“There is a situation…” Motioning to the ground the three of you sat. Neteyam placed himself to your right as your father sat in front of you. Confusion swept your features at your fathers vagueness, worry settling in. Antu motioned for Neteyam to continue for him, your eyes now on your fiancé.

“I can not stay here, my family, my blood is putting the clan in danger.”

“What?” You felt dread settle in your stomach at Neteyams words. “But we are to be mated you can not leave me!”

“Calm ‘evi, we will be venturing with them, helping them find refuge. With your features and my reef life knowledge it should not be hard. “

Mixed emotions and questions seemed to bounce around your brain, thoughts scrambled. The two men sat in silence as they waited for you to process their words. The sadness and dread did not seem to leave when you interpreted the meaning.

“We are to go back to the reef!? That dreadful place?!” Betrayal is what you felt as your rose to your feet anger evident. Horrid memories flashed in your mind as you remembered the weak little girl, crying on the sand.

“I have made up my mind. Would you really want to stay without the Sullys? They are like family ‘evi.” Trying to tame the situation Antu walked towards you hands motioning in a calm manner. His efforts were futile tho as you only felt your anger rise.

“This is my home! My friends, my people, my future as Tsahík!”

“Y/n, with me gone that is not guaranteed. Please understand, would you wish to be apart from me?”

Intervening Neteyam attempted to reason but to no avail. He did not know the things you had gone through on that reef, the pain you felt. Brushing his hand off your stormed out the tent in a rage. You did not even notice Tseo outside your pod quickly brushing past him.

“Woah! Y/n everything ok?”

Tseos words fell to deaf ears as you rapidly made your way to your ikran. Quickly calling Swizaw you removed yourself from high camp. A worried Tseo followed silently, knowing his friend was in distress he did not attempt to call out.

The tears that breached your eyes were swept away by the wind as you soared through the sky. You took in the forest examining everything with great detail. A sorrow consumed you as the thought of this being your last view broke your heart. The forest was your home, it did not matter that you were born on that horrid island, you never wanted to set foot on that sand again. It did not matter how much you had changed the scars left from your childhood could not simply go away.

———————-

Your resistance did not do much to stop the situation. The day Tseo ran out after you many words of comfort were exchanged. You both cried and hugged dreading the thought of you leaving. As Tseo helped you pack up your things as immense guilt filled you. It was not because you were missing your uncles coronation to be clan leader but because you felt as if you were leaving Tseo alone.

“I feel your eyes on me y/n, I do not need your pity.”

“Tseo…I do not wish to leave you here, alone.”

Walking over to you the warrior placed a comforting hand on your shoulder.

“I am not alone, I have my clan. Plus you will write me letters won’t you?” Hanging you your final bag Tseo shot you a bitter sweet smile.

“I miss the simple times, when it was the three of us having no worries but the gossip we would tell at communal dinners.” Tears pricked your eyes at the thought. Tseo shared a similar look of sadness eyes glossing over.

Pulling you into him the both of you hugged with such a force that seems to embody all your sorrow, pain, and the love you shared for each other. Tears ran down your cheeks as you looked at your dear friend.

“This is not our final goodbye.”

“Of course, I will see you again tseo.” Although these words were said the tears running down your face told another story.

“Now let’s get you to your ikran your father is probably waiting.”

Giving a small nods you both left the now empty pod. As you reached the ikran the tears could not seem to stop as you hugged your friend once more. Taking off you felt saddened consumed you, silent sobs leaving you as you watched your friends form gets smaller and the forest get left behind. Neytiri shared a similar state to yours her cheek were stained with tears.

Although the warrior had kept his composure for a while, your dear friend was in a similar state. Once you were out of earshot sobs left Tseo’s throat, it seemed that his last part of his past lover was taken away. His closed friend and lover gone the man felt a sorrow that compared to no other. But after hours past Tseo had to rise to his feet and continue with life. The life Eywa had blessed him with even if it was ridden with sorrows and pain.

Little did Tseo know there was a na’vi who looked over him in his vulnerable state. Her heart filled with sadness at his pain yet she did not have the courage to comfort him. Although Tseo did not know he had a bright happy future not far from his grasp with his secret admirer playing an unforeseen role.

——————————-

@ultimatebluff

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josefavomjaaga · 4 months

Text

Brun de Villeret about Marshal Victor

Claude-Victor Perrin aka Marshal Victor is one of the marshals I know the least about. So I was quite happy to find Soult’s aide de camp Brun de Villeret wrote a bit about him in his Cahiers. As this journal was never intended for publication, it’s likely to contain Brun’s honest (if possibly exaggerated) opinion.

Victor was, together with Mortier, one of the marshals who found themselves under the superior command of one marshal Soult during their sojourn in Spain (and didn’t like it one bit). Victor specifically was tasked with the siege of Cadix. When Napoleon sent Masséna into Portugal in the third and last attempt to occupy the country, he demanded Soult come to his support. Soult decided to besiege the fort of Badajoz together with Mortier and for that purpose had to take a larger number of troops from Andalusia into Estremadura, stretching himself dangerously thin. The Spanish troops in Cadix used that opportunity to attack Victor’s siege forces and even had some small successes before being driven back into Cadix. As Brun puts it:

[...] Some of our redoubts had been taken and demolished. The damage was easily repaired, however, and the Duke of Bellune could only congratulate himself on his victory and the way he had conducted his business.

Unfortunately, the gloomy mood which dominated him and still dominates him in all the circumstances of life, led him to believe that the Duke of Dalmatia had wanted to sacrifice him, by weakening the forces he had in Andalusia and taking the Duke of Treviso to Estremadura. He wrote him bitter and reproachful letters. As I was on fairly intimate terms with him, given that my brother was one of his aides-de-camp and had his confidence, the Duke of Dalmatia thought it appropriate to send me to him as a mediator, with the mission of trying to soothe his bad mood.

I see. The Brun brothers. Unofficial psychotherapists of the Armée de Midi.

I found him furious. He had retired to bed and received me while in bed. For two hours, his ravings were so violent that it was impossible for me to reach the end of a sentence. Finally, exhausted from shouting, he allowed me to speak.

Brun: Can I say something now?

Victor [sheepish]: Yes. I am hoarse and my throat hurts.

I managed to make him understand that with his talents, his reputation and three divisions as fine as his own, he should not be surprised that the Duke of Dalmatia had counted on him to defend his lines and cover the south of Andalusia. "You have," I finally said, "responded perfectly to this hope and added a fine jewel to your military crown. For our part, we have obtained great results [...] In short, since success has crowned your defence as well as our undertaking, you would be doing yourself a disservice in the eyes of the Emperor if you were to cast a negative light on what has been achieved." While I was speaking, his face had become serious, and he had resumed that air of benevolence he had always treated me with, when I did not have to address him on his relations with the Duke of Dalmatia. He even showed me the most delicate attentions and sent me away very satisfied with the result of my mission, and bearing answers written in a perfectly moderate style. I knew how to deal with him, and the Duke of Dalmatia knew it too: let him exhaust his ire and his verve. Afterwards, he would listen to reason. Also, during my stay in Spain, I had the opportunity to carry out several missions of the same kind.

One of them apparently included Victor shouting to Brun for another hour about how Soult never sent him enough food and how he was about to starve with his troops, before Brun finally could present him all certificates of receipt for Victor’s corps, proofing that the food Victor claimed was missing had very well arrived, and announce that Soult, nevertheless, had sent off some more boats with food for Victor’s corps. As Brun remarks at this occasion, Victor was "a better warrior than a good administrator".

But my favourite part about the scene Brun describes is that Victor apparently, all the time while he was raging to Brun about Soult’s injustice, was lying in bed. So he was like, yelling at the ceiling, his head in the pillows? Did he also wear a night gown and a sleeping cap?

#napoleon's marshals #claude victor perrin #jean de dieu soult #napoleonic era #peninsular war #siege of cadix

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ocean-waters · 3 months

Text

The brainrot took over me again.

I have a bit more to share about my free! Steven Universe AU. Particularly about the rin & haru fusion Rhodochrosite, because yeah.

Just a bit of the backstory of when it first happened and why:

It was because of a race, because of course it was. The first time it happened, it was because Rin challenged Haru to a long-distance race.

At first, Haru wasn't really interested in indulging him, so he just ignored him and started flying away. But Rin (who can also fly using fire jets for propulsion like that firebending move in ATLA), wouldn't give up that easily, so he starts flying slightly faster, taunting Haru a bit, which aggravates Haru's competitive tendencies, and so he speeds up, too. And so they actually begin racing.

Things get heated, they start doing fancy maneuvers and showing off (they're trying to impress each other, and in doing so they're kind of dancing in the sky in a way, so they're synchronizing). Then, they nearly run into a huge rock formation obstacle and swerve around it in opposite, then converging directions, and they collide. And it happens. Rodochrosite comes to be.

He marvels at what just happened and his new existence for a second, but then immideately unfuses. Still though, the thought about what happened lingers in Rin and Haru's minds (kind of like it was when Ruby and Sapphire first fused into garnet, and then kept thinking about it once they ran away together).

Rin eventually gets curious and is eager to try again. He insists he felt something special and that together, they could probably achieve great things. Haru is unsure at first but did also feel that spark, so eventually, he agrees.

They have no clue how to do it the second time, though lmao. Rin suggests dancing, but they're terrible at it. They simply can't synchronize that way and keep getting frustrated with each other. Eventually, they start getting heated again, but then Rin remembers the circumstances of how the fusion first happened and suggests they try racing again. Haru thinks that's stupid, but after Rin teases him about being scared of losing this time, he sets off, and Rin follows. Things play out the same, and they're about to reach the finish, then they both reach for it at the same time. And so it happens again.

After the shock and wonder wears off again, Rhodochrosite starts to have fun and discover just how much he enjoys flying around and how strong his powers actually are.

On the topic of his powers: They were kind of hard to come up with because water and fire are completely opposite and impossible to blend. However, I think I figured out how I wanted them to work. He can control a sort of plasma, one that grows bright, with a soft pink hue. He can manipulate it, stretch, and bend it like a fluid, or he can condense it into bullets of energy. The substance itself is pretty volatile. It can cut cleanly through anything and also explode. It's pretty versatile and also very deadly.

I actually did a few silly tiny sketches of the event as well as how the first-time/cotton candy version of rhodochrosite looked like:

#and there's still a lot more i wanna share lol; but drawing takes forever.#these are rin and haru; so of course there's angst later on #free!#gem au #steven universe au #rin matsuoka #haruka nanase #rinharu

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happistar · 26 days

Text

Day 2: Mindscape

---

"Ughhh," Jeremy groans, face red with embarrassment. He ducks into his seat, slouching over. The Squip sends a quick pulse, jolting his back up right.

"That was painful to watch."

"You think?" Jeremy raises an eyebrow at the projection in front of him covering his view of his teacher. "I fully panicked. Said all the wrong things like I normally do! Then, I made myself look like a freak. Its just-- the worst habit and impossible to break!"

"Now, now, Jeremy, don't be so harsh on yourself." The Squip flashes a perfect smile. "Progress takes time. You won't get the hang of this immediately."

Jeremy turns his face away to stare out the window.

"Pouting there won't help you achieve your goals. Now, find an opportunity get into the bathroom," the Squip directs.

Jeremy scrunches his face in defiance. "Why?"

"I'll show you something."

Jeremy does just that and manages to slip out the classroom and dart into the nearest bathroom which luckily happens to be empty.

"So what did you want to show me?" Jeremy says, hunching over as he sits down in one of the stalls. "Seems like just a dirty high school bathroom to me."

"Yes, but it also serves as a quiet location. Now, close your eyes." The Squip speaks within Jeremy's head, almost indistinguishable from his own thoughts. Thanks to a lack of physical manifestation in the close stall, Jeremy almost feels like he's hallucinating it all. Getting the hang of having a squip still is a struggle.

"You're not hallucinating. Close your eyes."

Jeremy exhales and does so. Within seconds a huge dark blue expanse with a grid patterned floor surrounds him.

"Wh--" he chokes on his breath, forcing his eyes back open. The expanse disappears partially, merging with the real bathroom stall like a bugged out texture in a video game. A wave of nausea flashes over Jeremy and he shuts his eyes again. Both the expanse and the bathroom vanish. "What was that?"

"Working out a few bugs, hold on a moment. Whatever you do, don't open your eyes yet."

Jeremy frowns, keeping them closed. In a moment, the expanse reappears, opening up more gradually, giving Jeremy a better look at it.

"How can I see, well, whatever this is, with my eyes closed?"

"Simple hacking of your visual cortex. Think of it like dreaming. What you saw a moment ago was the start up of the program. There were couple of bugs when it booting up, since its an artificial process."

The Squip appears in a flurry of glitches, hands crossed behind its back. "Everything should now be in order. Feel free to open or close your eyes, the visual should be synced."

"Right..." Jeremy shakes his head taking a step forward. The floor beneath him lights up and a branching path of circuits spreads out from his footprint. "What is this place though?"

"Your mind."

"My mind?" Jeremy steps back in shock, almost tripping over himself. He glances around, brows pressed firmly together. "But how? And why is it so... blank?"

"I should be more clear. This is more or less a visual representation of how I interact with your mind. I've currently cleared the clutter of neural activity to let you adjust."

"That's so cool!" Jeremy grins. "So what is it you do here?"

"That's what I wanted to discuss actually." The Squip gestures out, a screen appearing before it. "You believe you cannot break a habit or change your behavior. I'm here to tell you that you're wrong."

It scrolls on its screen, adjusting a bar. A once clear sky becomes a distant night of tangles of red and blue lines. The Squip looks up, tilts its head in calculation and pulls its arm down, bringing a red line along with it. With another gesture, it separates it from the hoard, leaving the small link floating above them.

"Reach out."

Jeremy does as it instructs and watches as the link gently falls into his hands.

"How can I hold it? This is like weird really VR."

"I'm activating your sensory information in response to your activity here. Thus, when you feel a sensation in your hands, you will feel it in reality.

Jeremy nods along, more focused on holding the link in his hands like he's water bending.

"Its a finely tuned process. One misstep and you may break something."

Jeremy suddenly feels perspiration on his hands and swallows uncomfortably. He stops his motions and holds out his hands, forming a plate carrying the link.

"Don't worry, you'll be fine." The Squip gestures dismissively. "Now, that link there controls your habit of flailing your hands whenever you get anxious. If you simply remold it, it'll get rid of your muscle memory's history of the action entirely. Of course, relapses can occur-- that's why spinal stimulation is so important-- but smaller actions can be easily reprogrammed."

"That seems like a lot," Jeremy pauses, uncertain. "How do I do it?"

The Squip smiles, taking the link out of Jeremy's hands and untangling part of it, turning the red into blue. "Like this. Here, try."

Jeremy gives it a shot, untangling it into a crooked, yet blue line. "This good?"

The Squip nods. "Perfect. Now, why don't we return to class and give it a shot? See if the habit remains." It smiles one last time and snaps its finger. Suddenly, the expanse containing Jeremy's mindscape jarringly vanishes.

#be more chill #bmc #squipril #squipril 2024 #the squip #WOOO this was actually so fun to write #i havent written fic in a hot second. very fun!#also im not sure if i have a writing tag???? i should #happi's writing #<- i think thats it lol

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btsmfanfics · 4 months

Text

The Choreographer -- Pt 16.

The Final Chapter.

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, Yoongi x Reader

Summary:

You were the assistant choreographer for BTS tasked with taking over for the lead while on tour. You'd sacrificed everything for this job, and you didn't want to risk it, but the temptation has proved to be too sweet.

Now you have to juggle the social, physical, and emotional consequences of your affairs. Jealousy between the members, social isolation, and potential feelings? No, that last one was not something you'd allow. You already had enough on your plate. You had to squash that down. But feelings demand to be felt. And you cannot run away forever.

________

How I dumped all my trauma into a single fanfic

Masterlist A/N: It's here! The final chapter! I can't believe it's taken so long, but honestly it was a journey for me too. Please let me know your thoughts at the end. Did you like how it ended, or would you have preferred something else? As always, thanks to everyone who has stuck with this story, even when they had to wait months between chapters. I appreciate each and every single one of you and I hope I did this story justice. Without further ado, _____

Jungkook kept his distance.

It had been a month since you’d left. You couldn’t remember a more difficult month. During the first few days, several people had tried to contact you. Hoseok tried first, then Namjoon and Jin. All to ask if you were okay. It was kind of them, but the messages sat in your inbox for weeks, unanswered. You’d asked Yoongi to pass on the message that you were fine, but you needed to take some time to yourself, which he did, dutifully.

Jimin reached out last week to tell you that he was sorry for anything he did that may have contributed. To him, you said honestly that you appreciated him reaching out, but you had no hard feelings towards him. He tried to ask you how you were, but you stopped responding.

How were you?

You supposed you were okay, in that you knew you were coping with everything the best you could and you were being as kind to yourself as possible, but at the same time, were you okay? What did okay mean?

You were surviving. And there was something to be said for that, but holy hell, were you in a lot of pain. Everything hurt, both physically and metaphorically. Your muscles were starting to atrophy. Your body was stiff from having spent the last month on the couch, and you didn’t have any plans in the near future to get off it. Your energy was at zero. You could do nothing. Accomplish nothing. Some days, even feeding yourself seemed almost impossible. Ramen and spoons of peanut butter were just about all you could make for yourself.

Most of the time, you’d order out. The containers piled up and you had no energy to clean them. No energy to wash yourself or your clothes. You felt horrible every time you had to leave the house because you knew how you must have smelled.

Worst of all, this was literally the best you could do. When you cried, you couldn’t tell if it was because you were processing what had happened, or because you felt completely incapable of pulling yourself together.

You remembered all the times you’d judged others for walking around looking unkempt, or for not getting up and working out, or for eating too much junk food, and here you were, doing all those things.

You wish you’d been a kinder person. Your whole life, you thought you’d been so nice. So holier-than-thou, but you’d actually just been an asshole.

No. You weren’t entirely an asshole. Yes, you had your struggles, but you’ve also achieved a lot, especially considering where you’d come from. Neither of your parents had shown up for you the way they should have, and you’ve had to pull yourself up by your bootstraps your entire life.

That had to count for something.

Yes, you’ve made your mistakes. Your moral compass hasn’t always pointed North, but god damn it, you were trying, and you had to give yourself credit for that.

And even though you weren’t capable of fixing everything right away, you knew you were going to try.

“Slow, measurable steps,” you told yourself. And you got up off the couch to fetch a spoon of peanut butter.

_____

From: Son

Sent: March 7th:

I don’t know what you’re going through, but I know it must have been bad for you to leave like this. Can you talk to me about what happened? I feel like it was my fault for putting you in that situation.

We don’t have to talk about what happened if you’re not ready. Just let me know if you’re okay. We’re friends first, colleagues second. Remember that.

The email had been sitting in your inbox for the last three weeks, gathering dust. Today, you were determined to respond. You’d typed up several half-responses before deleting them, finally settling on something simple.

Son,

I’m okay. Thanks for checking in. And thank you for everything else.

In time,

Rookie.

You’d forgotten the name he’d given you when you first started your internship, but it popped into your head as soon as you went to sign off. He’d only used it for a couple of months before he switched to your given name, but it was his way of establishing a rapport. At the time, it felt like teasing, but you realized eventually that it was his way of making you feel included.

You wished you could tell him more. You weren’t ready to talk about it. You hoped he’d understand.

It was Son. He’d give you the time you needed.

----

That was the last anyone other than Yoongi had tried to contact you. On the one hand, you were happy they respected your boundaries, but on the other hand, you missed them. Even if you couldn’t respond right now, knowing they cared enough to reach out had been comforting.

You got it, though. You didn’t have the capacity to be a good friend to them, or to anyone at the moment. And it was you who had walked out on them. That probably hurt a lot. They had every right to be angry with you for the way you had acted, and frankly, the thought that they might be angry with you motivated you to get better.

Rebuilding these friendships was going to have to be your responsibility. And you were determined to get make it right.

As soon as you made things right with yourself.

-------

*BZZZZZZZ*

The sound only half-registered in your sleep state, briefly rousing you before you fell back into deep slumber.

*BZZZZZZZZ*

It rang a second time, this time fully registering. You scrubbed a palm over your face and threw the blanket off you, simultaneously knocking last night’s empty takeout box off your couch and on to the floor to join the rest.

“Who is it?” you asked over the intercom.

“Yoongi. Let me up.” You pressed the button to unlock the front door, eager to see him but wholly unprepared for company. Groggy, you slumped over to your armchair, which held a pile of your clothes. Picking up a bathrobe to sniff it and determine it was clean enough, you wrapped it around yourself and tied it snugly in the middle.

Your apartment was in a very sorry state, you observed. You’d already been aware of that, but you were looking at it with a new lens, now that you had company.

Sheesh.

Take-out boxes littered the floor, the coffee table, and the sofa. Empty wine bottles and plastic cups were strewn about—clothes, tissues, candy wrappers, bags of chips, and an open jar of peanut butter with the spoon sticking out. Not to mention the layer of dust that had been gathering on almost every surface.

You heard a knock on the door.

“Just a minute!” You called, rushing to gather up as much of the trash as you could and stuff it into a bag. It was a mild improvement, but only just.

It had been almost three months since you’d last seen Yoongi. He’d visited once after coming back from the last leg of the tour, but shortly after, he embarked on a “creativity journey,” he called it. He’d been traveling around, looking for inspiration for his music and collaborating with artists all over the world.

You opened the door and greeted him with a hug.

He wrinkled his nose after pulling away. “Really?” you said. “I thought for sure this was clean.”

“I don’t think you can smell yourself anymore, babe.”

“Fair enough,” you said. “I don’t think I have anything clean. Mind if I do laundry while you visit.”

He shrugged. “Suit yourself.”

You grabbed a trash bag (all of your laundry baskets were already full) and started picking out the highest priority items. Sweatpants, hoodies, and underwear were the main articles, but you threw in a towel as well.

You should probably shower, too, while you’re at it.

“How long can you stay?” you asked.

“I’m free all day.”

“Awesome. How was the trip?”

“You know? I expected it to involve a lot of writing music, but it was actually the opposite.”

“Oh?” you asked, gathering up more items to take to the laundry room downstairs.

“Yeah,” he said, following you around as you picked at and sniffed different clothes around your living room. The bag was already pretty full, but you wanted to make the most of this load. “I mostly just ate, rested, and hung out with other musicians. I don’t think I finished a single track while I was there, other than the few collaborations I did.”

"I actually love that for you," you said, opening the door and walking down the hall. Yoongi followed, his energy bright.

“Weirdly, it was just what I needed.”

He continued to tell you about his trip as you threw the load of laundry in and proceeded back upstairs. He’d gone to the US to visit some of the artists he’d previously collaborated with, catch a few NBA games, and visit some of the landscapes, his favorite having been the Grand Canyon.

“It’s huge!” he exclaimed. “I mean, I knew it’d be huge, but like, you can’t even fathom how big it is until you see it in person.”

“I’m so happy for you, Yoongi,” you said, and meant it. “Keep me company while I shower?” you asked.

“Oh?” he asked, eyebrows disappearing up into his hair.

“Not like that.”

“Oh.”

He followed you into the bathroom, kindly not commenting on the soap scum stains on your sinks and the pile of dirty underwear in the corner and took a seat on the lid of the toilet, while you got in the shower and removed your bathrobe, dropping it on the floor on the other side of the curtain before turning the water on.

“Hungry?” you asked as you struggled to find the right temperature.

“I was until I saw the state of your apartment.”

You opened the shower curtain and flicked some water at him.

“Fair enough. Want me to order something while you shower?”

“Something with pork belly please?” you called out as you began to shampoo your hair, noticing just how many knots were in it. You really needed to stop falling asleep with your hair in a bun. It was getting harder and harder to untangle and the breakage was now significant.

For some reason, self-care tasks became much easier with Yoongi around. Things that seemed almost impossible on your own were suddenly within your grasp in his company; you were grateful for his presence, though you tried hard not to become too dependent on him. It wasn’t fair to him, after all.

“Ordered,” he said. “Should be here in thirty minutes.” “Thank you,” you said, now trying in vain to comb conditioner through your mats. ��When did you get back?” you asked.

“A few weeks ago,” he said.

“Really?” you asked, surprised that you hadn’t heard from him. “How have things been at the house? Also could you hand me the comb on the sink over there?”

“Complicated,” he said. You heard him rifling through the assortment of brushes and ointments sprawled around the edges of your sink until his hand appeared through the curtain, holding a wide-toothed comb.

“Thanks. Go on.”

“Well, that’s actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

“Why? What’s up?” you asked. The comb continued to stick in your hair. At this rate, you’d have to cut your hair short to get rid of all the damage.

“Well, as you know, things are still tense within the group. A lot of us aren’t talking to each other.”

“I actually didn’t know that,” you said, finally managing to comb through the biggest knot. You placed the comb back on the shelf and switched over to scrubbing your body with the loofah, hoping to give the conditioner some time to work.

“Really? I thought I told you.”

“We didn’t talk much about the group when you were here last. I think I was still avoiding the subject.”

“Oh, well are you still or can we talk about it now?” he asked. You heard a faint trickling sound coming from outside the shower.

“Are you pissing right now?”

“Yeah.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to hold back a smile at just how comfortable the two of you had become.

“Don’t get it on the seat.”

“What and ruin your pristine bathroom?” he said.

“Ass. Anyway, yeah I suppose we can talk about it now. I’ve had enough time. Just don’t say his name.”

“Noted. So everyone’s all weird around each other now.”

“What exactly happened after I left?”

“After you walked out, Namjoon called you-know-who out in the hallway to talk privately. I couldn’t hear what he said, but it must have been bad because he came back in with his tail between his legs and he wouldn’t look anyone in the eye. Only talked to Joon for the rest of the tour.” “Damn,” you said. It was cathartic to hear that he had at least some degree of shame. You just wished you could have heard what Namjoon said to him.

“Yeah. Then he asked to talk to both Tae and Jia privately, and they came back looking pretty similar to Jun—I mean you-know-who. He must have given them a real tongue lashing.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah,” he said. “Then he talked to me.”

“Yikes.”

“Yeah.”

“How’d that go?”

“It…,” he began, “…wasn’t exactly the best moment of the tour.”

You couldn’t help but laugh at how delicately he phrased it. “Go on,” you said, scrubbing at your scalp. The conditioner had done a decent job of masking some of the damage, but you’d have to visit a salon at some point to truly fix it. Another item on the long list of things you needed to take care of.

“He was angry with me for not communicating how I was truly feeling about everything. He said he’d have gladly stood up to the label and advocated for me if I would have said something to him. And if they still didn’t listen, he would have helped me find an appropriate way of coping. Or at least help cover for us if that’s what we needed to do. And he was disappointed that I didn’t trust him enough to care about what I was going through.”

“Fuck,” you said, turning off the water.

“Yeah.”

“Hey could you hand me the towel hanging on the door?”

He did, handing it to you through the curtain without looking. For some reason, you were feeling a bit more shame about being naked around him than you had in the past. Wrapping yourself up in the towel, you stepped out of the shower and truly looked at him for the first time since he’d arrived.

He looked so tired.

“How are you holding up?” you asked.

He shrugged.

“Anything I can do?”

“Honestly just your company would be great.”

“That I can do.”

You toweled off in your room and changed into a sweater you’d found in the back of your closet and a pair of sweatpants that you’d only worn a couple of times. Yoongi accompanied you while you finished your laundry and worked on tidying up your apartment. He relaxed on the couch, smoking a joint you’d given him and watching mindless reality television until the food arrived, when you took a break and sat next to him, exhausted from all the effort you’d spent, but grateful for Yoongi’s presence.

“Thank you for coming over,” you said, taking the first bite of noodles. “And for not judging me. And honestly, for everything else you’ve done. I don’t know how I’d get through this without you.” You finished the rest of your sentence with your mouth half-full of food. Yoongi had the kindness not to comment on it.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, taking a bite of his own. “I needed to get away from the dorms. It was nice to have somewhere to go that wasn’t my studio.”

You both ate in relative silence, save for slurping noises and the occasional clearing of a throat. Once your hunger had been sated, you turned on the couch to face him and leaned your head against the back, once again taking him in.

“What?” he asked when he noticed you staring.

“Do you think sleeping together was a mistake?”

“Wow, you’re just gonna hit me with that out of nowhere.”

“Loaded question, I know,” you said, biting back a grin. “Humor me?”

He sighed, contemplating his answer.

“No? I mean, there definitely were consequences to it. And Namjoon was right. I should have talked to him about what was going on. But at the end of the day, I still really wanted to do it. And, for some godforsaken reason, I still think I benefitted from it more than I suffered.”

“I feel that way too,” you said, grateful that he shared the sentiment. “I regret how I went about it, but I don’t think I regret doing it. I loved every second.”

“Even though it ruined things with…him?”

You barked a bitter laugh, which dissipated into a sigh. “I think things were ruined with him from the moment they started.”

“What makes you say that?”

“We were just kids,” you said. “Or at least it feels like we were. Neither of us was mature enough to enter into a sexual relationship. We handled it so poorly.”

“That may be true, but then again, you grew a lot through the experience. Sometimes you have to figure out what not to do before you can go about things the right way.”

“Maybe,” you said. “I still struggle to feel at peace with it.”

Yoongi was silent for a moment. “Do you miss him?”

You nodded, unable to speak as the words caught in your throat. You didn’t want to miss him. And you didn’t want to acknowledge that you missed him, but you did.

Your eyes stung with the grief. “It’s okay to miss him,” he said.

“It hurts,” you said.

“I know, baby. I know,” he said.

You reached your hand out. Yoongi took it and pulled you into a bear hug. You couldn’t help the sob that left your mouth and got muffled in his chest.

“Shhhh. It’s okay,” he said, rocking you back and forth, kissing the top of your head.

You needed this. It was impossible for you to get through all of it alone. And perhaps you weren’t meant to. Perhaps connection was the missing piece. The thing that gave you the energy you needed to heal. You’d been so alone for so long, and while Jungkook had satisfied the physical need of skinship, he couldn’t offer the connection that you really needed. Neither could Jimin. Or Jia. Or Colin. Or any of the other people who’d had access to your body. It was something only Yoongi had given you so far. And maybe, in a way, Son. Though his connection had been an energetic one rather than physical.

Conflicting needs are hard. Everyone has needs that they're trying to get met. Sometimes those needs don't align. Sometimes we look for the wrong people to meet them.

The company needed to make money and keep a clean image. Son needed to take care of his mother. Jungkook needed to feel secure. Jimin needed to feel good enough. Yoongi needed to feel heard. You needed to heal.

It’s great when things work out and everybody gets their needs met—but life doesn’t always work out that way. And sometimes the process of getting one’s needs met is messy and painful. Sometimes you have to hurt someone else in order to take care of yourself.

But people heal. We grow. We learn from our mistakes and find better ways to get our needs met. We're never the bad guy forever. And every once in a while, we get it right. We cause more good than harm. We help someone heal from their wounds, rather than cause them. When that happens, there's a purpose to the pain. A reason to keep healing. Love blossoms where wounds existed, and eventually, with time, they don't hurt so much anymore.

_____

Son looked as if he’d seen a miracle.

“You came.”

“Of course I came. I’d never let you do this alone. Though from the looks of it, you wouldn’t have had to.” You gestured out the window to the full parking lot. People were still clearing out a full twenty minutes after the service ended.

He hugged you with as much strength as he could muster, and you hugged him back just as tightly.

“Can you stay? I want to catch up.”

“Absolutely.”

You had sat in the back row and watched as Son gave a heartfelt eulogy honoring his mother’s life. The funeral was beautiful. Everybody you’d worked with from the past had showed up to support Son as he gave tribute to his mother’s life.

Afterwards, you all went back to his mother’s house and drank together like old times. Son got entirely too drunk while going through photos and ended up bawling his eyes out while the group gathered around him. He ended up passing out on the couch not too long after. You stayed the night to make sure he was okay, having been the only one to not partake so heavily. You’d quit drinking about a month ago, deciding it was time to get healthy.

The next morning, Son made breakfast while you helped clean up after everyone. It felt almost like you were freshly graduated again, interning at Son’s old company before he’d been hired at the record label.

“This feels familiar,” Son said, echoing your thoughts. You laughed, continuing to shove empty beer bottles and solo cups into the black trash bag you were holding.

“Old habits die hard, I guess.”

“I missed you.”

He said it softly into the pan of eggs he was frying up. Almost too soft for you to catch, but you did.

“I missed you too. I’m sorry I wasn’t there.”

He stopped frying to look up at you.

“What happened?” he asked.

“You really want to know?”

“I do.”

The time had come to tell him your story, and you did. You relayed absolutely everything. From your father’s affair with your childhood dance teacher, to your mother’s disapproval of your career choice and subsequent excommunication of you, to the incident with your professor. And then to the events of the tour (which you censored a bit. He didn’t need to hear absolutely everything.) And then why you left. Son listened intently, nodding where appropriate and giving you the focus you needed to get through the story.

“I’m sorry for leaving,” you finally said. “I just couldn’t handle that environment anymore. I had to get away for my own mental health.”

“Don’t feel sorry. You had every right to leave. I’m sorry for asking so much of you without giving you enough preparation. Ideally, your first tour would have been alongside me. You’d have been able to watch how I operate for the first few weeks before slowly taking on more responsibility. It wasn’t fair to just shove you out there like that.”

“You had such a valid reason though,” you said. “I wanted you to be able to take care of her. She needed that. And so did you.”

He nodded. You saw in him an echo of the grief you’d only just learned how to process.

“Thank you for giving me that time. I’m so sorry that it came at such a cost,” he said.

“I grew through it.”

You sat in comfortable companionship for a few moments before Son turned to you.

“About your professor…,”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you said, brushing the memory away as soon as it arose.

“Can we?” he asked, grabbing one of your hands and holding it in his. The gesture was so sincere that you couldn’t help but humor him.

“I don’t want you to think that you somehow weren’t good enough to get that internship based on skill alone. That man conned you. And last I knew, he was dismissed from the university for having done the same thing to another student.”

You hadn’t kept up with any university news, wanting to leave the memory behind you, but this was an unexpected turn of events. You couldn’t say you were surprised to hear that he’d done it to other students, but it hadn’t occurred to you to come forward about his behavior. You were relieved to hear that others had, and that he’d faced consequences. Still, you were ready to put the memory behind you.

“I guess…I always knew that I had some level of skill, because you took me on as your assistant even after the internship, but I had always wondered if it was just because we were friends.”

He gave a bitter laugh. “I mean, I definitely enjoyed having your personality around, but I wouldn’t have offered you the job if you didn’t also have the skill.”

Son’s words meant a lot to you, but you still couldn’t help but feel a sense of loss over everything. It wasn’t fair that you were robbed of the joy of having made it based on your hard work and dedication. You were ever afforded the confidence. Your position was always tainted with the bitter knowledge that you’d done things you weren’t proud of to get there.

“You know,” he began, hesitant about his next few words, “your old spot is still open for you. If you want it, that is. I’d love it if you came back.”

His words were tangibly hopeful, and the offer was tempting. It would be nice to get back on good terms with everyone you’d left. Still, you knew your answer.

“Son,” you said, heaving a sigh. “I can’t go back. I appreciate the offer, but I just don’t think it’s the right fit for me anymore.”

“Ahh, I suppose you’re right,” he responded. “Worth a shot.”

“I’d still like to stay in touch though. Maybe work on some independent projects together.”

He offered up the best smile he could muster under the circumstances. “You know I’m always down for a collab. Just say the word.”

“I’d like that.”

He turned again towards you. “What will you do now?”

“I have a few things I want to work on.”

-----

Your feet fell to the pavement with heavy thuds. The air burned your lungs. Your ankles were sore and unstable, aching from the extra weight they weren’t used to carrying.

It had been a year since you’d left the company, and this was the first time you’d worked up the energy to go for a run. Almost immediately, you were out of breath. Your limbs no longer worked together the way they had before. They were stretched, as if the threads that had once held you tightly together at your seams had been pulled loose.

You were a stranger to this body.

You slowed down to a light jog. It had been less than five minutes and you were already sweating.

This had never happened to you. You’d always had expert control over your body and its movements. The solid connection between your mind and your muscles was something you’d taken so much for granted that you never even knew it was possible to lose.

Energy had once flowed throughout your body, all the way to your fingers and toes, but you couldn’t feel it anymore. Your movements were sloppy. Your pace was inconsistent, like your body was short circuiting.

This was going to be harder than you thought.

You stopped your movements altogether.

This was the part of healing nobody told you about. You didn’t have the luxury of running in private, so you had to settle for letting out a silent scream. Going through the motions was a trick you’d only recently learned.

You turned around. Your body wasn’t ready to run yet, so you’d have to deal with just walking.

You took one step. And another. Eventually, you found the pace for your body.

So this was rehabilitation.

-------

A month later, you signed up for a gym membership. It had become clear during several ineffectual runs that your body had completely atrophied after spending over a year on the sofa eating nothing but takeout and ramen.

You started with your legs. You were wobbly in your joints and your balance was all over the place. On top of that, you now had almost forty extra pounds you were carrying around.

Rebuilding your strength was slow, but it was also a necessary step if you ever hoped to get your strength back. You were tired of being tired and you knew that the only way to attain energy was to earn it.

On top of that, you were nearing the end of your savings and had to find a job soon or else you’d be kicked out, and you were in no state to work.

Working out became your primary form of meditation. It was a way for you to connect with yourself on a deeper level than you had in a long time.

You had a feeling that this kind of solitude, while painful, may be the best thing for you. You’d spent the year before chasing attention, never once questioning where the craving had come from. Clearly you had some sort of neglection wound from your parents, but superficial sexual attention wasn’t going to fix that. That’s why you kept chasing even after receiving it. It had provided a temporary dopamine hit, but never addressed the root of the problem.

It wasn’t until you had begun paying high-quality attention to yourself that you even became aware of this.

The root of the problem, you thought, as you strained your leg muscles under the weights and stood up, was that you neglected yourself.

------

“I think I was taught to,” you said.

You sat across from a middle-aged woman wearing a cream-colored sweater and thin-framed glasses. She held a clipboard and a pen in hand and scrawled down a note.

“Who do you think taught you to do that?”

“My parents, for one.”

This was your second therapy appointment. You called and scheduled the first once the gym alone was no longer enough to keep the spiraling thoughts at bay.

“What did they do?”

“Well, my dad abandoned us for that dance teacher, and then when that happened, my mother just couldn’t keep it together. It felt like every conversation we had was just an opportunity for her to complain about what my father did. I had to stop talking to her after a while.”

“So she forced you to be her confidant and emotional support system when you were a child, while simultaneously neglecting your own needs.”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say. It’s possible she just wanted to connect over the fact that he had abandoned both of us, and expected me to be just as angry as she was.”

“Were you?” she asked.

“At first. But after a while I was just tired. I wanted to move on with my life, but she stayed stuck in the past.”

“So you had to fend for yourself.” It was a statement, rather than a question.

“Yeah.”

“What do you think that girl needs to hear right now? If she were with us in the room?” You thought about that for a moment. What would you have wanted your mother to say?

“I guess, I’m sorry that he left us. That wasn’t fair, but I’m going to make sure we have a good life regardless.”

She smiled and nodded. “Good. That’s what I want to hear. Now is that a promise you’re intending to keep?”

“Yes,” you said firmly. “What do you need to do?”

“I need to make amends with the people I’ve hurt.”

-------

“I guess I was just blindsided by everything, you know? I wish you could have confided in me. I don’t know why you didn’t.”

Hoseok sat across from you, teacup in hand, a look of sincerity in his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, Hoseok,” you said. “I don’t know why I did the things I did. I judged myself so heavily for what I was doing, and I guess I was just afraid you’d judge me too.”

He grabbed your hand. "I'd like to think I've proven myself to be better than that."

“You have,” you said. “And if I had my head on straight, I would have known that from the start. I just. I don’t know. I didn’t want to disappoint you. And in doing that, I ended up disappointing everyone, myself included.”

Hoseok looked at you with the utmost sympathy. “Please come back. I miss you. We all miss you.”

“Hoseok…,”

“I know,” he said, “It’s just that I really miss having you around. I know things got weird and you got hurt, but you and I had so much fun together. Not everybody enjoys dance the way you and I do, and I miss having your energy around. Plus, we’ve all grown so much since you left. Even Jungkook has been working on himself.”

Your heart shot to your throat at the mention of his name.

“Sorry,” he said when he caught you wincing.

You wanted to ask more questions about him, but couldn’t bring yourself to do it. Apparently, that specific wound remained open. “I can’t,” you said. “That’s just not who I am anymore. But we can still hang out and collab sometimes. Just for fun.”

He sighed and nodded. “Promise me you won’t go another year and a half without talking to me?”

“I promise. I’m sorry I took so long. I needed time, but I’ve finally got my head on straight.”

“Doubtful, knowing you,” he teased and you had to smile. “What will you do now?”

“Well,” you began.

------

You entered in the combination the owner had given you. The keypad lit up green and the lock released with an audible “click.”

There was a small foyer with a desk and a short hallway ahead. At the end of the hallway, a restroom on the right, and to the left, a wide open space.

You removed your street shoes and padded across the hardwood, dropping your gym bag on the far corner next to the stereo system. After connecting your phone, you pulled up one of your old playlists and hit ‘select.’ The music echoed through the empty space and you made your way to the center.

Your body was tired and slow. Some of your joints were still stiff and calcified, but your workouts have helped loosen them up. Still, you needed to be extra thorough with your warmup routine and easy on your ankles. You’d lost a fair bit of weight, but you still had about twenty extra pounds weighing your movements down. Some of the fat had been converted to new muscle, though.

Son had put you in touch with the owner of a local dance studio. He’d worked with her on previous projects and gave you a good reference. She agreed to let you rent out the space a few times a week for a very reasonable price (you had a sneaking suspicion Son had something to do with that, too).

The savings you’d built up before you quit had all but run dry. It had been eighteen months of living off ramen noodles and paying your electric bill and rent in installments, but you’d survived. Occasionally, you’d try to pay a bill only to find out that it had already been paid for.

Yoongi swore up and down that he hadn’t done anything, but you had a hard time believing that, considering he knew how much you were struggling and he regularly pressured you into accepting charity, often citing that he had more money than he could ever hope to spend. You were far too proud to accept his donations openly, but you were still grateful for every single utility bill he went behind your back to cover.

Your savings and his generosity had allowed you the time and space you needed in order to heal and get back on your feet. It was time to return dance floor.

You were rusty, but it wouldn’t take long for you to build your basic skills back up. Soon enough, you’d be able to start offering classes.

“Just like riding a bike,” you whispered to yourself as you pushed up off the floor and swung your legs overhead in an aerial. The landing was clumsy and it hurt your knees, but it was a landing, nonetheless.

You could work with that.

-------

Three years later.

“Five, six, seven, eight. One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, and down, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight.”

You clapped as you counted.

“Yes, Seul-ki , give it some attitude,” you shouted, praising one of the students who had shown significant improvement over the last several weeks. She’d started the class later than the rest of the women, but had picked up on it quickly. There was a determination within her that reminded you of past versions of yourself.

The music ended. The women hit their final pose. They were all very much amateurs and it showed in their dancing, but you had a special place in your heart for this particular class.

All of the other classes were paid. You taught children up through teens after school on weekdays, but Sunday afternoons were your favorite, because you got to give back to your community.

The class was made up of survivors of sexual abuse and harassment, and you teamed up with the local women’s services nonprofit and a few trauma-informed therapists to put together this class.

The goal was to help women reconnect with their bodies through movement. This was the second group of women you’d taught. The first class, while it had its growing pains, was such a success that it had garnered local attention and had been offered a grant from a few other agencies looking to get involved.

You’d already been approved for a business loan, and next week, you had a meeting scheduled with a real estate agent. You were about to begin the process of looking for properties to purchase. It was time to open your own studio.

“Okay, good work everyone. Remember, next week we’re off for the holiday, but we’ll be back the week after that. Enjoy your time!”

You said goodbye to each of the women individually, thanking them for coming and wishing them well as they cleared out.

Once they were gone, you sat in the middle of the floor and massaged your ankles. They’d never been the same since you took so much time off. You’d built up enough ankle strength over the past few years to support them most of the time, but every once in a while, you had to take some time to rest them or else they’d get inflamed again. You were glad you had the next week off.

Shuffling through your phone, you put on of your favorite playlist. You’d created it almost ten years ago, but each song reminded you of the early days of your dance career, when you and Son were at his old company, partying weekends away and never taking life too seriously.

You went through your post-dance stretching and cooldown routine, working on a few moves you wanted to incorporate into your Reconnection class after the break.

You were midway through the move when you looked up and saw a familiar figure leaning against the doorway, softly smiling at you.

Your heart leapt up to your throat. Fight-or-flight kicked in, and you immediately ran over to the speakers to turn the music down and give yourself a chance to catch your breath before turning back around.

“Hey,” he said when you finally did.

“Hey,” you echoed, voice coming out a little breathy. The space between the two of you stretched across the room, filled to the brim with words unspoken. The silence that fell was thick and heavy. Your skin prickled as hairs on your arm stood up.

He was different. More grown up. He had a lip ring now. Beneath his oversized black tee, you could see a full sleeve of tattoos. You knew he’d gotten them. It was impossible to avoid any mention of him in the news, but it was still jarring to see them in person.

“Uh…Yoongi said you’d be here.”

Why Yoongi wouldn’t give you a heads up about this was beyond you.

“Yeah, I, um. I teach a class.”

“I saw.” His voice softened with layers of humility it had never before held.

“Can I come in?” he asked. There was such hesitation in the question, like he was tip-toeing around a land mine. You supposed in a way, he was.

“Sure.”

Slowly he stepped forward.

“It’s a nice space. I read in the news you were offering—,”

“You're here," you interrupted.

"Um. Yeah."

You were still processing that fact. The words had come out of your mouth without you consciously choosing to speak them.

"I didn't expect you to be here," you continued, your brain only being capable of observing the obvious at that point.

"I...well, no. I suppose you wouldn't."

You were still registering his appearance. Had he always been this tall? Or was it just the boots he was wearing? He was in all-black, save for a dark gray beanie he wore on top of his head. You couldn't read his expression.

“I uh,” he said, clearly struggling with how to approach this. “I wanted to make amends, I guess.”

You blinked a few times.

"...And I guess that's probably not something you're—,"

“—Do you want a cup of tea? I have an electric kettle in the back,” you cut in.

He let out an audible breath of relief, face finally ligtening up into an expression you could read. “Sure.”

He followed you to a small break-room-slash-utility-closet in the back of the studio where you kept a stack of yoga mats, extra dance shoes, and all the cleaning and restock supplies you needed. It also had a small bistro table with two chairs, a microwave in the corner, and a tea kettle on top.

You busied yourself making tea, back turned towards him. It was still tough to look directly at him for more than a second or two, you found.

“How have you been?” you asked, looking down at your hands as they worked.

“I’ve been okay. You?” he said.

You finished filling the cup with hot water and turned back towards him.

“Feel free to sit,” you said, noticing he was still standing awkwardly in the doorway. He paused for a moment and then helped himself to a seat at the table. You set two cups of tea down in front of each seat.

“Sugar?” you asked.

“No thanks,” he said and waited for you to sit. When you finally did, you still found it hard to look at him and settled for staring into the cup between your hands.

“You were saying,” you said, hoping for him to take the lead.

“I had asked you how you were.”

“Oh. Right. You did. I guess I’ve been good? Better than I’ve been in a while, at least.”

“Good,” he said. You glanced up to him and caught a small smile on his lips. “I’m glad.”

“Yeah.”

“I think it’s amazing what you’ve done in the last few years. I always knew you were a great dancer, but I didn’t realize you had such a philanthropic heart.”

You let out a shaky laugh. “Yeah. I suppose I didn’t know that about myself. The idea just kind of appeared out of nowhere, you know?”

He nodded, struggling to hide a smile. You felt a blush creep up on your cheeks.

“So,” he said.

“I saw you released a solo album.”

“Yeah?” he asked. “Did you listen to it.”

“Um. No, actually. Sorry.”

He chuckled. “No need to be.”

An awkward silence fell between the two of you once again.

“Jungkook, I—,”

“I’m sorry,” he cut you off.

“Okay,” you said.

“I just had to tell you. I hate the way I treated you. I hate the way I acted, and you never deserved any of that.”

“Okay.”

“And I’ve spent the last four years absolutely appalled with myself. I hate that I pushed you away, and that I lashed out at you, when you were just trying to figure things out, the same as the rest of us. I put so much pressure on you to fill a role in my life. You didn’t deserve to be treated that way.”

A rush of emotion hit you all at once and you hadn't realized just how much you'd been waiting to hear those words. You'd already come to terms with the idea that you'd never get an apology, and you were okay with it. Now that it was here, it was almost overwhelming, but you had to store that away for now, because you had something else to say.

“Jungkook, you weren’t the only one who messed up. We both did. I’m just as responsible for what happened as you are.”

“I don’t think that’s true. That last day, I treated you so much worse than you ever treated me. I had no right to say those things to you. It was despicable, and I am so ashamed. I’m sorry.”

His words were still sinking in.

"I mean, I slapped you."

"I deserved it."

"Debatable."

Truthfully, you’d dreamed about having this conversation with him for the last four years. You were never sure how it would go, but now that it was here, you weren't sure how to process it.

“Why now?”

He looked down at his teacup. When he spoke, his voice was strained.

“I’m leaving for my military service soon. I didn’t want to go without making amends.”

“How soon?” you asked.

“Next week.”

“Oh shit,” you said. He removed the gray beanie he’d been wearing to show a freshly shaved head. Now, looking at him was almost surreal. He barely looked like the same Jungkook.

"Yeah," he said.

"Are you scared?"

"Yes and no. I think it's time I had a challenge like this. It's been so long since I've had to do real grunt work. I could use it. And maybe I need a break from being famous. Just be another soldier in the ranks for a change. Just like everyone else."

He'd never be just like everyone else, but you didn't want to spoil this for him, so you held your tongue.

"If I told you I forgave you, would it help you go into this with a clear conscience?"

He chewed on his lip ring in an effort to hide his smile, but it didn't quite do the trick. "Yeah."

“Yeah. I mean, what you did wasn’t cool. It really hurt and I had a hard time getting over it. But at the same time, it was kind of the kick in pants I needed. I don’t know. It gave me a good enough reason to leave a toxic situation,” he grimaced as you said it, knowing he was partly at fault for its toxicity, “and I feel like I was able to really start living for myself after that. It sucked at the time, but it was a catalyst for a major chapter of growth.”

“So...does that mean there's no hard feelings?”

“Jungkook," you said "you broke my heart. That’s always going to sting a bit. But I’m not going to hold on to any resentment. I know you were acting from a place of pain.”

“I was,” he said. “And thank you for understanding that. I'm sorry for what I did when I was hurt, but I’ve been working on healing, for what it’s worth. Getting famous at such a young age affected me more than I realized. I won’t go into it now, but I know what you mean when you talk about a growth chapter. I’ve been kind of going through one of those myself.”

“I’m glad.”

The conversation trailed off, but you could tell there was something else on his mind by the way his tongue prodded at the inside of his cheek. It warmed you to know he still did that.

“Can I ask you something?” he said, sincerity on his tongue.

“Do you think, like when I get back from war,"

"You're not going to war, Jungkook," you deadpanned.

"You don't know that. War could break out at any time. You know they're running missile tests in the North."

Even if war did break out, they'd never put him on the front lines. He brings in too much money for the country, but you humored him. "Okay, sure. When you get back from war."

"When I get back from laying my life on the line in a very dangerous war for the sake of our country," he continued and you couldn't stop the smile that appeared on your face, "do you see a future where we could ever work on things? Or have I permanently messed up my chance?”

At that, you had to laugh. “Get back from your military service and we’ll talk.”

“Please? Another chance? I’d love to make it up to you. I could make it up to you before I leave, even.”

"Are you seriously trying to get laid right now?"

He smiled, bunny teeth sticking out and suddenly he looked like old Jungkook again. Your Jungkook. “I would never.”

“I cannot believe you! You are such a little shit,” you said in amusement. You got up to rinse your tea cup in the sink in an effort to shut the conversation down, but he followed you.

“One kiss,” he said. "I'll change your mind."

“Go away, Jungkook,” you said, snatching his half-finished tea from him.

“I could die! I could be killed on the battlefield!” he exclaimed, following you to where you stood.

“I would be grieving with the rest of the female population. I’d be first in line, even.”

“A hug then?” he said, catching you by the arm. Your skin burned where he touched and you almost dropped the cup you were holding. You forgot how affected you were by him.

You turned to face him. He was close now, staring down at you. His doe eyes held a familiar intensity that made your stomach flutter. "Please?" he said again, voice low and soft.

“Jungkook, I—,” you began.

The End.

#Jungkook x reader #Yoongi x reader #The choreographer #bts fanfic #Jungkook

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pb-dot · 3 months

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Film Friday: Inception

Today I'm writing about a movie that's a bit outside of my regular wheelhouse. Inception is not my favorite movie, it probably doesn't even get on the Top 10 shortlist if I'm honest, but it's probably one of my favorite movies ever to think about for a couple of reasons that I suspect are a bit unusual. This is all to say I'm going to go a bit deeper into Film Nerd mode than usual for this one. I'd apologize, but I'm not sorry. Inception spoilers beneath the cut.

So, to start off, I'm not particularly fond of Nolan as a filmmaker. He's extremely gifted on the technical side of filmmaking for sure, and his authorial voice is very strong. That said, his oeuvre seems entirely too cold and clinical to me. Sharp suits, sharp men, complex plans that pivot on perfect twists, near-realistic aesthetics. If there are any emotions involved it's what's ruining everybody's shit. Sometimes, Batman is there. You know, the whole bag.

Nolan makes complex clockwork movies that frequently fuck with time in an interesting way, but there's an emotional distance, or perhaps I should say "distance from emotion" to the whole thing which makes very few of them stick in any meaningful way. For example: I remember Dunkirk being a technically impressive movie that did some spicy things what narrative pacing is considered, but I couldn't tell you a single thing about who it was about, or even what those spicy narrative decisions were in service of.

There is, however, one notable exception. In his 2010 movie Inception, Nolan assembles one of, if not the most complex mechanism yet, and somehow it manages to be his most emotionally honest film. It's quite the impressive magic trick, and I would argue he achieves it by reaching a level of emotional honesty that one seldom sees from mainstream filmmakers.

Inception is a film about a crew of exceptional thieves specializing in cracking the final vault, the human mind. Using technology that lets them enter the dreams of their targets, they seek to extract company secrets, classified intel, and other pieces of knowledge that can most easily be hidden in memory. However, their troubled leader Cobb finds himself compelled to attempt a job thought impossible, Inception. Their mission is to plant in the mind of energy company heir Robert Fischer the idea of breaking up his company through a dream heist. This heist is complicated not only by the sheer deftness the crew must show in planting an idea without leaving any trace, but also by Cobb's own psychological scars that threaten to destabilize the carefully planned multi-level heist.

The first level I want to look at here is the central metaphor of the Mind Heist gang being analogous to a filmmaking crew. They're all creative and immensely focused people coming together under the direction of a man with a vision, Cobb. This description is perhaps a bit over-general, but what elevates the Filmmaking-as-heist idea to me is how the heists in Inception are specifically about creating a narrative. It is especially important with the main heist as creating a narrative in the head of the target is part and parcel of the inception, but even in the other heist we get to see, setting up a narrative is pivotal to stealing the information they're looking for.

As an aside, this narrative-making and the need for realism that comes with it also justifies what I consider to be my main sticking point with the film, in that the dreams are so very true to life and low-tech, while dreams in my experience tend to be strange, surreal and malleable experiences. This explains at least from the Watsonian perspective. From a Doylist point of view, it's more likely because Nolan is most comfortable with a near-realistic style of narrative, and this strict adherence to something approaching the realitylike makes his complex drama puzzleboxes easier to follow.

So, the heist crew are, essentially, filmmakers, which would, at least in today's Western film tradition, would make Cobb the director. In much the same way as Roy Neary in Close Encounters Of The Third Kind can be read as a stand-in for director Steven Spielberg, Cobb functions as our Nolan stand-in for Inception. Cobb is, however, far from a blank slate, or frankly a particularly idolized self. He is, in short, a mess.

After going deeper into the world of dreaming than anyone before him, Cobb has crossed some ethical Rubicons, especially when attempting to deal with his now-dead wife Mal and her reluctance to leave the world of dreaming. After performing the first-ever inception to plant the idea in Mal's head that the dream world is, indeed, not the real world, Cobb finds himself constantly troubled by anxiety as to whether he's asleep or awake. Whether this is a direct consequence or reaction to the act of inception, paranoia stemming from such a perspective-shifting thing even being possible, a manifestation of the guilt he feels over Mal's return to the waking world ending with her suicide, or even a sign that Mal did some incepting of her own, is something we can only speculate on.

Regardless of what exactly is eating Cobb, it manifests in his work. The heist crew frequently finds their efforts frustrated by incursions from Cobb's mind. The most common of these is Mal, or at least Cobb's mental recreation of her, throwing a wrench in their plans, and, in one particularly memorable case, a freight train running through an area a freight train really has no business being. Cobb tries to minimize the risk of this by not taking point and not being too directly involved, but this does little to dissuade his cocktail of trauma and troubled emotions from coming damn close to upending the entire thing.

The heist, however, does succeed. Through a series of bluffs and maneuvers, they manage to navigate Fischer Jr. to what he believes to be the deepest corner of his mind, where lies the comprehension, represented by a deathbed conversation with the man. Through this, Fischer realizes his recently departed father wishes for Robert to break up the energy conglomerate Fischer Sr. built, and instead make something for himself. It's a scene of high drama, and no small amount of catharsis as the troubled Robert realizes his father was never disappointed in him, and merely wanted his boy to be the best version of himself he could be. It's quite stirring stuff.

It is, however, a lie. This isn't Fischer Sr. revealing himself to be a caring father with trouble communicating the same, hell, it isn't even Robert's interpretation of the man. It is a scenario set up by the dream heist team with the express intention of making the dreaming Fischer Jr. believe this was his unconscious mind telling him to break up his energy conglomerate. It isn't Fischer Sr., not even as an imperfect mental construct by Fischer Jr., it's a construction of the heist crew. It's an act of manipulation, a triumphant act of manipulation, yes, but an act of manipulation all the same.

And still, even upon rewatching the movie with this knowledge well in hand, it's hard to not be swept along by the sheer force of emotion in that moment. Part of it is because it feels so necessary for the character. Fischer Jr. isn't just a target in the context of the scene, he's a troubled man with a complicated relationship to his father. He needs to settle his self-doubt and dismay with the stern and aloof parent he grew up with, and after his death, he still needs the catharsis. So in a way, it doesn't matter much that Fischer Sr. isn't the real deal, Fischer Jr. knows he's in a dream at this point, hell, it maybe doesn't even matter if the dream construct isn't his own. Perhaps what the dream-construct father says is what the wayward son needs to hear, although it'll certainly change the energy market in some pretty dramatic ways. Perhaps, or perhaps Cobb has become such a skilled manipulator his reach extends to the audience, but returning to our metaphor of Cobb as a Nolan stand-in, what is filmmaking if not manipulating and eliciting emotional reactions?

To further reinforce the point that this cathartic, but fake, heart-to-heart isn't the climax of the story, Cobb's journey isn't done. In the process of doing something thought impossible for the second time, Cobb is forced to do something impossible yet again, parallel to Fischer's revelation. This time, it is to dive deeper into the layered dreaming still in pursuit of his exit strategy, to the unconscious, chaotic under-realm of Limbo, from which there is no waking. This was from whence he managed to rescue himself and Mal back after the first inception, and although it is far from pleasant, he yet again manages to pull through and emerge from the dream.

Or does he? The movie does play with the possibility that the reality that Cobb emerges into is merely another dream in Limbo. It could be because of this the cinematography gets somewhat less focused as the heist concludes and Cobb finds his highest wish fulfilled, exoneration both in the eyes of the law and himself from any wrongdoing in Mal's death and the opportunity to return to his children.

Now, before I bring this all home, I feel I should speak briefly on Totems in Inception. The Totem is a series of different objects made by the various members of the heist crew. These items, Cobb's is a spinning top, are modified by each individual member and is only to be handled by them. The logic here is that these items are supposed to be a way to check whether you're in somebody else's dream, as you can check the object and how it interacts with the world to verify that it's doing what it's supposed to do, the weighted die falls to the number it's supposed to, the spinning top spins out and tips over like you'd expect it to. Throughout the movie, Cobb has a spinning top he checks regularly, some would say with obsessively, only feeling fully safe once the top tips over.

This is all to explain the lead-up to the final moment of the movie. Cobb, true to his habit, spins his top before meeting his children. He does, however, not wait for it to tip over, and instead goes to meet his children. The camera remains on the top, and moments before it becomes clear whether the top will fall over or continue, the movie cuts to credits.

Many have taken this as a challenge of sorts, a call to action to analyze the logic and events of the movie for signs. Is this a movie about a man succeeding or about a man succumbing? Is what we see in the closing minutes of the movie real, or is it a comfortable lie Limbo has formed around Cobb like it once did around him and Mal?

Personally, I say it does not matter. The story of Cobb ends with him leaving behind his totem for a reason. He has rid himself of the fear that has plagued him since emerging from Limbo and Mal's death. What if it was Mal who was right, and the quote-unquote real world was nothing more than a particularly elaborate Limbo dream. What if he never incepted anything, what if he's still dreaming within dreaming, stuck in a holding pattern until the impossibly long dream ends, his mind rent asunder by experiencing more time and place than a human mind is meant to bear. What if the top never stops spinning?

As my sequence of retelling might imply, I believe it was experiencing the inception scene with Fischer that helped Cobb clear the final hurdle and face his fears. Even if what Fischer experienced wasn't real, it had a powerful, arguably positive effect on the man. It gave him something he'd never get in the real world, closure. It wasn't real, but it was real enough.

So that is, I believe, what we're meant to take from that spinning top. The point isn't whether the top has stopped spinning or not, but rather that Cobb has stopped checking. Spin or not, Cobb's journey is not real. It's a movie, told by a crew of talented creatives, guided by a man with a vision and the willingness to show us things that aren't real to give us catharsis, show us wonder and terror, entertain us, and perhaps, give us some closure. "Try not to dwell on it," the movie says, as if aware of the deluge of movie buffs and wannabe theorists that would descend on this movie like they do on every movie with their red circles and reading metaphors as mechanics, "Even if it's fake, it's Real Enough."

#film friday #inception #oh lord this turned out long #I always feel conflicted while talking about this movie because I try not to psychoanalyze the author #I mean I've never even met the man #but it is hard to avoid while talking about an auteur making a movie about being an auteur #but I did hold back on it a bit - hope it doesn't read as too egregious #also for the record I'm so so on auteur theory #but that's another post for another day

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yandere-daydreams · 2 years

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Title: Midnight Desserts.

Written for a very lovely anonymous commissioner.

Pairing: Yandere!Licorice x F.Reader (Cookie Run).

Word Count: 3.0k.

TW: Non/Con, Rough Sex, Bondage, Kidnapping/Imprisonment, Obsessive Behavior, Delusional Thoughts, and Mentions of Blood.

You thought, initially, that you might’ve been dead.

Or, mostly dead, at least. Half-way dead. Dead enough to explain why there wasn't any light, why there wasn't any noise, why your chest felt so heavy and your throat felt so dry and every part of you felt so drained, the idea of moving alone was enough to make your joints ache in their sockets. Briefly, you wondered if you were underground, if someone might’ve locked you in a coffin and rushed to the burial site while you were too lifeless to resist, but no, that would’ve been too simple, wouldn’t have explained the pillow under your head or the concave stretch of fabric looming above you – a canopy, you realized, seconds later, dark and velveteen and large enough to completely encompass the bed you were lying on, one of the largest you’d ever seen and swabbed in the same dark material. It all blended together, blackness on top of blackness on top of more, unending blackness. As if you’d been consumed by something, completely swallowed up by pure void. As if you were somewhere else, somewhere darker than anywhere you should’ve been.

You tried to push yourself up, but your arms caught on something – shackles, pale as ivory and sprouting from the two uppermost bedposts. Jerkily, absent-mindedly, you pulled against the chains, achieving little more than driving the metal deeper into your wrists. You tried again, your mind still lagging behind your instincts, but a hand shot your shoulder, a presence forming out of nothing behind you. Or, maybe he’d been there all along, waiting in the shadows, watching you panic with that awful, toothy grin smeared across his face. That sounded like something he would do, not that there was anything you’d really put below him.

“Hey, hey.” You snapped towards him, making a clumsy effort to push him away. Licorice only chuckled, letting you bat uselessly at his chest, never bothering to so much as pretend he was affected by the abuse. “Easy, now. You’ll just hurt yourself if you keep thrashing around like that.”

Instantly, your anger won over your confusion, loathing and misplaced irritation quickly drowning out what little self-preservation you still had. “Get—” You shoved at his chest, and he caught your hand, intertwining his fingers loosely with yours. When you jerked back, he let you go, but he was still wearing that damn smile. If your body had been any more cooperative, or if your mind had been any less dazed, you would’ve been tempted to try and claw it off of his face. “Don’t touch me. I can’t— Where are we? What did you do? Why am I—”

“You don’t have to worry about that. We’re alone, and—” His voice hitched in his throat, his smile growing impossibly wider. This time, he didn’t wait for you to lash out, to give him an excuse – reaching towards you and wrapping an arm around your waist, dragging you into his chest. You hadn’t thought to check, before, but he wasn’t wearing his usual clothes, his cloak replaced with dark robes that left more of his ashen skin exposed than you would’ve liked. You didn’t recognize your own outfit, either, a white dress you’d never seen before, let alone put on. You did what you could not to linger on the implications, but an involuntary chill ran up your spine, something he didn’t seem to notice. Or didn’t seem to want to, at least. “You’re so pretty,” He mumbled. A second later, he went on, rushing over his words in a hasty attempt to correct himself. “I mean, I knew you would be, but I don’t think we’ve ever been this close, and I just—” He cut himself off with a shallow sigh, an airy laugh. “You’re so pretty, and I’m so, so glad you’re finally here.”

You didn’t respond, not immediately. Talking to Licorice was like talking to a drooling, leering brick wall, anything you said likely to bounce off of him or, better yet, be replaced by something softer, something kinder, something he could mold and shape into promises of devotion or declarations of love – whatever he decided he wanted to hear, that day. Anything too gentle, and he’d turn it into praise, into adoration. Anything too hostile, and he wouldn’t hear it at all.

“Licorice,” You tried to find a middle-ground, to keep yourself calm and your voice even, but not flat. Stern, but not strict enough to go completely unheard. “Can you tell me why I’m here?”

“Because I love you.” Careless, thoughtless, immediate. He squeezed your side, burying his head in the crook of your neck. “Because we’re supposed to be together, and you…” You felt him draw you closer, dark hair falling over your shoulder and across your chest. “You were being stubborn. You wouldn't stop acting like you hated me.”

You swallowed, dryly. “But why am I here? Why didn’t you just talk to me?”

“I’ve tried that.” He was whining, now, a row of pointed teeth ghosting over your skin. You had to fight the urge to pull away, to pry at his arms, to put as much distance between you and him as you possibly could, given your restraints. “You never listen to me, and there’s always someone else, someone trying to distract you—” Nails, this time, blunt and burrowed into your waist, your hips. You cringed, drawing in a pained breath through grit teeth, but he didn’t react. You wouldn’t have been surprised if he hadn’t even noticed. “But now, we get to be alone. No one’s going to interrupt us, here. I’ve made sure of it.” He leaned further into you, nuzzled deeper into your neck. “No one’s going to take you away from me.”

Stern, but not strict. Steady, but not cruel. “I don’t love you.”

You felt him shake his head, heard another shallow laugh. “You don’t have to say anything you don't mean, right now. It’s fine, we’re alone.”

“I'm telling the truth.” You rested a hand on his forearm. Nice and easy, calm and composed, just until the chains were off. Just until you’d gotten outside. “There’s no one else. I don’t want to be with you, and I don’t want to be here.”

“You don’t have to do this. It’s alright, I’ve taken care of—”

“Please, Licorice.” You just needed him to take the shackles off. You needed to be somewhere else, somewhere with anything but darkness. Dampening, unrelenting darkness. “I don’t want to have to hurt you, but I don’t want to be—”

“Be quiet.”

It caught you off-guard – both the traces of hostility in his voice and the fact that there were only traces. He’d never lashed out at you, but part of you had expected that, when he did, it would be with that same kind of obsessive fever. You never lingered on it, did what you could not to think about him and his one-sided crush at all, but when you had to, you pictured something violent, something explosive. Not this, his face hidden in your neck, his arms wrapped around your midriff with the same kind of crushing dependency a child might've shown to his favorite toy. Not anything so vulnerable. “You’re confused. It’s not your fault, and I—”

“Please.” You wanted to hurt him. You wanted to leave. But, it felt worse than you thought it would to actually see him hurt. “You have to let me go, Licorice.”

He was quiet, for a beat.

Then, he pulled you ever-closer, his grip briefly tightening before falling away altogether. “You’re confused,” He repeated, a cracked smile biting into your flesh. “But, that’s alright. I’m here to help.”

The command wasn’t audible, if there even was a command. The moment he stopped speaking, the chains seemed to spark to life, drawing back on themselves and coiling around the bedposts, dragging you against the large, ornamental headboard despite your attempts to thrash against them. Your wrists were forced above your head, your back pressed flat against cold wood, and Licorice laughed as you kicked uselessly at empty air, as you fought futilely against your restraints. It was pointless. Talking to him at all had been pointless. You should’ve screamed. You should’ve wrapped your hands around his neck and squeezed. You should’ve—

You didn’t have time to think about what you should’ve done, about how much faith you should or shouldn’t have had in him. He was already starting towards you, already moving to kneel between your legs, making it impossible for you to fully block him out. He seemed nervous, despite his delusions, despite his shamelessness, hesitating before planting his hands on either side of your waist, glancing over your hardened expression with that same half-melted glint in his eyes.

“I’ll make it better.” He leaned in, as if to kiss you, and you turned away, still intent on resisting any way you could. He settled for the edge of your jaw, instead, then your cheek, then the corner of your lips, only pulling back after you’d gone stiff underneath him. Even then, he was still smiling, grinning in a way that made your stomach twist and something sharp and desperate begin to crawl up your throat. You tried to shut your eyes, but opened them just as quickly. It was worse not to know where he was. It was worse not to know what he was going to do to you. “And you’ll thank me, when I’m done.”

You wouldn’t. You could’ve told him that, yelled and screamed until your voice gave out. You could’ve. You were tempted to.

But, it wouldn’t have helped.

It wasn’t like he’d ever listened to a word you said.

He was clumsier than you’d expected him to be, somehow. That, or he was hastier, in a rush to gather the skirt of your dress up to your waist and run his hands over the outside of your thighs, the curve of your waist. You made another attempt to get him away from you, to kick at his chest, but he only caught your ankle, only kissed the inside of your calf before throwing your leg over your shoulder, resting his hand over your knee when you automatically tried to pull away. The panic only really, fully washed over you when he leaned down, his lips grazing over your hip, then the apex of your thigh as he drifted lower. You didn’t want him this close to you. You didn’t want him to do this. “Stop, d-don’t—Licorice, don’t—”

“That’s enough.” He sounded far-away, his attention only partially directed towards you and the rest already elsewhere. “I love it when you say my name, but you don’t have to worry about anything right now. I’ll take care of you.”

He was so calm. So eerily, erratically calm.

You wished he was still crying into your neck.

Despite your best attempts to block it out, the feeling of his warm breath against your panties drew you out of your thoughts, accompanied by his nose pushing into your clit, his fingertips digging into your hips. It was temporary, though, followed by something so, so much worse – sharpened nails tearing through thin material, his tongue tracing over the length of your slit, now unprotected by any kind of fabric. You shuddered, attempting to clench your thighs shut, but if he noticed, if he cared, you weren’t able to tell. He only fell farther, delved deeper, taking a long moment to suck on clit with a harsh kind of pressure before moving lower, lapping over your cunt – as if he couldn’t decide what he wanted to focus on. As if he wasn’t just doing this to cause you pain, in one form or another.

He was watching you, too. You were hyper-aware of his eyes, of his stare, burning into you and prying for any change in your expression, any slight hitch of your breath or buck of your hips. You tried to hold yourself still, not to react, but there was only so much you could do to stop your body from moving on its own, to stop your cunt from clenching around his tongue as he moaned into you – his affection as unabashed and as unwanted as it'd ever been. You shut your eyes, grit your teeth, but it was useless, the kind of last-ditch effort that managed to give away more than total transparency would've. Your firsts curled around the satin sheets, your back arched away from the plush mattress, and he drank it all in, tore it out of you like a precious object or vital organ. You didn’t want him to look at you. You didn’t want him to touch you. You didn’t—

He groaned into your cunt, and you came abruptly, without warning. It was quick, too rushed to really savor, but he seemed to try to nurse you through it, to ease you down and edge you forward until you were panting and twitching and visibly spent. After a moment, he straightened his back, hovered over you for just a fraction of a second too long before slotting his mouth against yours, forcing you into a brief, chaste kiss. You made a half-hearted effort to turn away, but he didn’t let you, catching your chin in one hand and letting the other fall to your waist. His thumb dug into your jaw, and while you couldn’t have genuinely claimed it hurt, you knew there would be a mark, a bruise. You knew that, when you got out of here, you’d still have to live with the evidence that he’d touched you, if only for a few days. If only for the rest of your life.

You heard fabric tear, felt cool air on your skin, and another surge of panic rushed through you, duller than the last but twice as cold. The dress fell away, and you made a scrambled attempt to cling to it, but Licorice clicked his tongue and the chains tightened, drew your arms upward and pulled your body taut. A short, pained sound escaped your throat before you could swallow it down, and as if in apology, he kissed the edge of your collarbone, then the side of your neck. Predictably, the affection did little to comfort you.

“Please.” Begging was useless. You were useless, but this was all you could do. This was all you’d ever been able to do. “No, no, no, Licorice, don’t—”

“Your voice is beautiful.” He wasn’t listening. Of course. You weren’t sure why you still thought he would. “You’re so, so beautiful, and all mine.” He buried his face in the dip of your shoulder, took up your thighs and dragged you into his lap. You could feel something against your entrance – hot and heavy and pulsing – and it took everything inside of you not to put a name to the aggressor. “And I’m never gonna let anyone take you away from me.”

He thrusted upward, into you, and something deep in your chest crack and burst open.

It hurt in a way you weren’t really used to, yet. You’d been injured, before, had your bones broken, your flesh cut open, but this was different, less of a shooting pain and more of a resounding ache in the pit of your stomach, a dull throb somewhere behind your eyes. It didn’t help that he made no effort to be gentle, to let you adjust to the size of his cock, the feeling of him splitting you open. With his face still buried in your chest, he began to move, to fuck into you as his hands found their way to your hips and he edged you downward, further into his lap, until his skin pressed into yours and he was as close as he could possibly be. The proximity was stifling. You felt dizzy, half-suffocated, like there was smoke in the air, water in your lungs. You wanted to collapse. You might’ve, if he’d been kind enough to give you that much space.

“I-It’s so—” His pace was uneven, erratic, violent. There was no rhythm to latch onto, no pattern you could fall into, just the overwhelming warmth of his body against yours and the feeling of his mouth moving against you, pushing little mumbled half-sentences into your skin. Most of it was nothing, gibberish lost on an unwilling audience, but the head of his cock hit something that made you tense up and clench around him and his voice hitched, spiked, rising back into earshot before you could prepare yourself to ignore it. “We’ll be together, and you’ll never have to leave me, and—”

He cut himself off, latching onto your jugular and biting down hard. You cried out, arching into him, but he didn’t stop, didn’t let go, not until he’d broken the skin, not until he could draw back and lap at your throat. You wanted to hate it, to be disgusted by the mix of blood and saliva slowly dripping down your chest and smearing across his, but your self-restraint wavered, your mind betrayed you, and all you could really bring yourself to feel was the steady pulse of his cock inside of your cunt, the scrape of his pelvis against your clit, the smothering heat slowly pooling inside of you and spilling over. You hated it. You hated it, but—

You weren’t sure what you meant to say. Another plea, maybe, or something else, something too desperate to ever let yourself acknowledge. Either way, your mouth was already open, and you were already talking, gasping, unsure of what you wanted to say and unsure if you even cared what came out, anymore. “Licorice—”

You felt his cock twitch inside of you. He didn’t even bother trying to let you finish. “Again. Say it again.”

You didn’t even try to stop yourself. You couldn’t, at that point, couldn’t do anything but lean into him and let it happen. “Licorice,” And again, as his pace sped up, as he groaned into your shoulder. “Licorice, Licorice, Licorice—”

Your vision flashed white, your body went rigid against his, and a moment later, something thick and searing filled you to the brim, Licorice making no attempt to pull out before he reached his climax. Even then, he didn’t move, didn’t let you go, only letting his head roll back, his eyes find yours. He brought up a hand, cupping your cheek, and slowly, almost sweetly, he kissed you, his lips barely brushing against your own.

This time, you couldn’t bring yourself to try and get away.

#yandere #yandere love #yandere x reader #yandere imagines #yandere prompts #yandere x you #yandere oneshots #yandere cookie run #yandere licorice cookie #cookie run imagines #licorice x reader #yandere licorice x reader #yanderecore #yancore

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purecantarella · 2 years

Text

Secretly Yours

belated happy lia day everyone!! now this is coming out later than i'd have liked it to because i once again, took a lazy nap HAHAH im vv sorry but i hope you all still enjoy oblivious lia, very very oblivious lia highschool au choi lia x reader disclaimer/s : nothing much, a bit of cursing but other than that not much happened

Since she was young, Lia was never the center of anyone's attention. As the eldest, the attention was always on her younger brother and she was the kind of person you never took a second look at.

At least that's what she drilled into her head.

It got to a point that she simply downplayed any achievement or live milestone. Sadly, that included birthdays. That is until she reached middle school...when you entered the picture.

You had known Lia for years, having the same classes, riding the same bus home, and you had thought she was the most beautiful person in the world. The mere sight of her had your palms sweating and heart hammering against your chest.

What you felt for Lia was something you'd never felt.

So you pumped yourself up and built up the courage to put the letter you'd written for her in her locker, in very middle school fashion. Each time you tried though, you were nearly caught or it didn't feel like the right time.

Then you got lucky.

"Okay, N/n. You've got this, nothing to worry about." You mutter to yourself as you turn the corner with your note in hand. Your breath had run ragged as you began to panic. As you approached her locker, to your surprise the hallway was empty. You grin to yourself and jog over to the metal box, slipping the paper through the slits.

You smile to yourself proud of yourself for finally allowing yourself the chance to be happy. As you turned, you almost jumped out of your skin to see Lia walking around the corner, even worse, she met your eye. She smiles brightly, and speeds up.

Your brain stops working, trying to piece together an excuse. It seems like she moved at lightning speeds as she stood before you before you could even blink. "Hi there Y/n. Did you need something?" Her voice kind and delicate, it made your heart beat impossibly faster in your chest.

You sputter softly, thoughts still not forming completely, but ever patient, Lia only smiled and placed a hand on your arm gently. Your nerves calm and you eye the book in her hand quickly, biology, you didn't share that subject that term. "I...uh...heard you were doing well in Bio, I just wanted to ask for some help." You say nervously while scratching the back of your head.

She nods quickly, "I'd love to help, let me just get my notes from my locker—"

"No!" You blurt out suddenly, before cupping your hand in front of your mouth, stunning the poor girl. "I mean...We can do without notes for now, I suppose." You reason, feeling the blush crawl up your face from such an outburst.

Lia surprises you back by merely giggling. "Alright, come on then. I know a place that can accommodate the two of us." You nervously look back at her locker then back to her as she opened the book in her hands, asking you what part of the lesson confused you.

"...I understand if it's this, the concepts are rather complicated." She rambled until you laughed softly. Dread was written all over her face when you bumped her shoulder against yours playfully. "You're adorable, Lia." You compliment quickly, catching her off guard and you immediately catch yourself before you can make a bigger fool of yourself.

You point down to the book contents, "It was this one. I wasn't in class when it was discussed." You explain, as Lia reads the topic title and flipped through the page. She took mental notes on what she wanted to discuss to you.

As you both entered the quaint café, as per Lia's recommendation, you immediately eyed one of the cake slices in the window of the chiller by the register. "I'll pay, it's the least I can do for your help." You offer with a small smile. The shorter girl didn't bother arguing, she knew from stories that you were rather headstrong, and nodded before taking a seat around the back of the shop.

A little while later, you return and she immediately begins lecturing you on the topic. You knew the topic fairly well but there were things that she pointed out that you were simply unaware of, only furthering your admiration of the girl.

Just as she is about to finish her spiel, a cake slice slides onto the table in a smooth motion as the waitress walks away quickly to attend to another family. Lia looks at the cake rather surprised and you can't help but smile at her, ducking your head back down into your textbook, "Happy birthday."

Thus began a long winded friendship and a tradition. You two would sit at the same café on her birthday and share a slice of cake while her family forgot about her, trapped in their own endeavours. But in the span of five years, you'd never missed it once.

You were her rock as she was yours, she shared everything with you.

As such, Lia told you about the letter from her secret admirer the very next day. Blissfully oblivious to the fact that you slipped her that note. You never broke it to her though, it would be selfish of you to ruin her happiness for the opportunity for her to go out with you.

And that's when you're personal tradition started. The letters.

You get to Lia's locker quickly, right before students were dismissed for the day. Cautiously, you slip the light green envelope into her locker, shocked when you hear a loud slam beside you. Standing beside you was your closest friend aside from Lia.

"Boo." They teased as you clutched your chest and rolled your eyes as you slipped in the note as you did every year. You sling your bag back onto your shoulders and position yourself naturally as you hear doors open and footsteps begin to patter across the cheap linoleum.

"You think that she'll figure it out this—Ah fucker!" Your friend grunts as you elbow their side, as Lia speeds around the corner. You open your one arm up to Lia. She excitedly tumbles into your side and you can't help the airy laughter from slipping from your lips. Immediately, you slip your other arm around her waist and hoist her up into the air. "Happy birthday, princess Lia!"

The shorter girl giggles and kicks the air, squealing for you to put her down. Your other friend waves casually with a half-smile. "Happy birthday."

She nods her head gratefully as she jumped out of your arm, her hand still firmly planted in your shoulder as she opens the worn out metal frame. The letter you'd just placed flowing carefully onto the ground. Her eyes light up as your friend's narrow onto you.

"Thank you guys. And you..." She pokes your cheek lovingly before motioning for you to follow her once she'd shut her locker. You chuckled and saluted to your other friends to which they flashed you a teasing kissy face. You rolled your eyes and wrapped your arm around your best friend.

"Now what's all the secrecy about, Lia..." You asked rhetorically, you knew why she dragged you all the way here.

It was tradition after all.

She quickly and rather dramatically pulled out the familiar note out, proudly flashing it to you. You smile and gingerly pluck the envelope and pretend to open it. "I'm sure it's the usual spiel about how amazing you are." You point to your chest while lifting the letter higher than she can reach normally, "I could have told you all of that if I'm being honest." Lia is quick to jumping to retrieve the letter from your loose grip.

"It's our senior year, you'd think whoever this is would grow a pair and tell me in real life this time..." She pouts before trailing her finger along the edge of the paper, staring at the stationary longingly. You bite back an argument you would have used to defend yourself. You breath a subtle sigh, "Well? Open up, birthday girl." You usher her gently.

Lia looks up at you excitedly and smiles before breaking the wax seal on the envelope. She pulls out the paper and her eyes scan the paper, the smile on her lips grows until her eyes had completely formed crescents while she coos in between. She flushes pink and bites her lip as she continues reading.

You watch her reactions as she read the letter you'd rewritten over and over for the past week, in spite of the harsh teasing of your other friends. It was well worth it. By the time Lia is done reading, your still staring at her affectionately and she gently shoves you, beaming up at you.

"They've done it again." Lia announced while handing you the letter. You take the paper from her hand and lifted your brows, feigning shock and awe. You fan your face with the scented letter, trying to hide the flush on your face from the rather embarrassing admissions you'd written down. "They truly know how to pull on the heartstrings, eh?"

You push off the wall you leaned on, plucking her back off from her. "Come on birthday girl, we have to beat those kids and their parents to the good cakes." You snicker to yourself but when you don't hear the usual scolding or suppressed giggle from Lia, you turn to see her looking down at the letter intently. You tilt your head to the side. "What's up, princess Lia?"

Her head shoots up and she bolts towards you, your heart pounds uncontrollably as you find her right in your face, the smile on her face forming the crescent moon eyes that you simply adored. "N/n, I want to find them." Your eyes bulge out and you quickly mask fear and shock on your face with curiosity. "It's the last year they'll be able to write to me this way and I don't want to loose the chance of meeting them."

Guilt chips at you while she stares up at you with so much enthusiasm and hope. You chuckle nervously and retort, "You wouldn't want to just announce on the P.A system, 'to Choi Lia's secret admirer, please come to the front of the building'?"

Lia whines softly taking your hands in hers, pulling them up to her chest as the jutted out her lower lip and began to plead, "N/nnnn..." As she begged, you cursed yourself and your inability to deny Lia anything and sighed while lowering your head. "Fine, but only because it's your birthday."

She jumped up and down happily, unable to contain the ecstatic feeling building inside her. "Thank you, N/n! I love you so much!" She cries out and you can't help but laugh at her enthusiasm. You compose yourself place a hand atop her head tenderly as it mindlessly trailed down to her cheek, the contact lingering longer than you'd intended, your thumb brushing her cheekbone gently.

Lia beams up at you before pulling you out of the school, her arms wrapping around yours while you carried her bag on your other shoulder.

The shorter girl drags you to her house, her parents nor her brother were anywhere to be found, but she had grown used to it. She didn't really mind either. After all, she had you.

Lia disappears briefly but soon reappears where she presents each letter you'd written, in pristine condition, to her on the living room table. There was a clear writing style and pattern, she just needed to match it with the way other people spoke to her. And she was deadset on finding who this mystery person was.

Then there was you, casually reading through the letters you'd written again. You couldn't help but cringe at the idea of everything you'd written from years ago.

'...There is just somethin g in the way you smile, the way you speak, the way you treat others with such kindness and grace, even when they've treated you like nothing. I've never quite seen anyone willingly do so with no—'

A loud groan pulls you away from the terribly written letter from eighth grade. You raise your head and see Lia frustratedly reading from another piece of paper, her hand messily weaved into her brown locks. You reach over and take her hand from her hair, offering her a warm smile.

Lia looked over at you and her creased brows smoothed out as she looked at you. There was always a calming effect that you held over her and she was forever grateful for it. "Hey, it's going to be fine alright? This person isn't some genius. We'll figure it out, you're highly intelligent, Lia. Nobody matches your wit." You compliment softly.

She smiles and nods slowly, briefly leaning on your shoulder. "I'm sorry for dragging you into this..." She mutters softly before you pull her hand to your lips, pressing them to her knuckle gently. "Let's just get this person alright? Then we can get cake." You joke making Lia smile against your shoulder before nodding and sighing deeply, returning to the letter she was reading previously.

"This person is really elusive if we can't find them." Lia jokes but the change of your tone from your usual playful demeanor to a more defensive one as you respond makes her ears perk up. "I wouldn't say elusive, maybe you're just not seeing the simplicity of things."

"Sometimes a person is just too close to the situation to figure it out..." You mutter quietly while Lia looks up from scrolling through her contacts, she pauses. Finger lingering over your name on her phone. Her mind lags for a moment, thinking over the subtle things you'd say about her secret admirer, the odd way you and your other friends would talk around her birthday, and the way you went above and beyond for her...further than any friend would.

You finally notice her silence as you re-read the different notes you'd written over the years, going through your own memory lane, when you push her shoulder gently. Lia's eyes meet yours and there's a sense of clarity in them, one that you couldn't help but find adorable. Your lips quirk up into a smile as you tilt your head to the side curiously.

"What is it princess Lia?" You ask affectionately, teasingly getting closer. Your nickname for her...it was often hinted at in the letters to her, 'treated like royalty' or 'the cutest princess to walk the halls.' Your smile fades when she doesn't speak for longer than you'd liked. You adjust yourself to face her better, voice soft and gentle, "Hey, what's wrong?"

Then it finally clicks.

Lia stares at you, a small smile of disbelief growing on her lips, "It was you."

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise, but that melts away into an impressed smile as you chuckle softly. You lean back and read one of the later letters again, not daring to meet your best friend's eye as you felt your cheeks burning. The nerves beginning to get to you...and you knew Lia knew it too.

You tried playing it cool, tossing your hair to the side. "Took you long enough, Choi...Didn't think that you'd get it in this centur—OW!" Her fist quickly collided with your arm repeatedly, her pale cheeks growing redder in hue. She continues her onslaught on your arm. "You could have told me anytime! But you decided to make me go through five years of wondering!"

"Choi Lia so help me God!" You cry out before catching her fists in your hands stifling laughter. She was now panting, straddling your torso as you stared up at her, not making a peep. You know she's waiting for an explanation so you sigh, retracting your arms and crossed them over your chest.

"I didn't want to ruin the image you had in your head. You were expecting charming and sweet." You pause, leaning back before nonchalantly adding, "I don't exactly emulate any of those characteristics Lia."

Lia looks at your sulky face, letting herself sink in the moment. There's a silence and it hangs in the air. But all you can hear is the way your heart pounds against your chest, her breathing, then there's laughter and your heart sinks.

The sweetest sound that you'd come to look for each day became nails on a chalkboard. Before you can say anything more, she's up and disappears into the hallway. You sigh and push the letters away, mere reminders of your idiocy.

You sigh into your hand as you mumble, "Well, that went to shit..."

You pluck your bag up from the ground and stack your letters into a neat stack before getting up. You open the door and hesitate before stepping out. Biting your lip, you pull the it shut, your mind rushing a thousand miles a minute.

As you walk away, you think of all the things you could have done differently and about how you'd lost the greatest friend you could have ever hoped for. While you'd wallowed in your own self-pity though, the very same voice that you thought you'd never hear again calls you, "Y/F/N!"

You turn and see her barreling towards you at lightning speed before you catch her into your arms. Like she always had she smiles up at you, her hand lacing with yours. She twirls on her own axis allowing you to see why she had disappeared into the hallway. Lia stood before you in a slightly nicer outfit than earlier.

The shorter girl centers herself before she teases, "Did you forget about the cake? Were you really going to break tradition, N/n?" Your eyebrows shoot up in amusement before you chuckle to yourself before your expression softens, "Wouldn't dream of it, princess Lia."

She nods her head, clearly happy with your response and wraps her arm around yours, like she'd done a million times before. But this time it felt completely different. Like something in the air had shifted between the two of you.

You couldn't help the thought that maybe something could grow from this...and neither could she.

i tried to emulate the way a teenager would think in this scenario actually and i apologize if it was rlly cringe. in all honesty, i feel like the ending was a bit messy but in spite of that i hope you all still enjoyed it!! i sort of am behind schedule as this was supposed to come out days ago and it was hwasa day yesterday, hope yall aren't too upset that i missed all these things 🥹 i'm trying to figure out a schedule that works for me personally but anyway, i hope you all enjoyed and i will see you all very, very, soon!! i love you all and take care!! bye lovelies 💖 - r

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thewillofdeez · 11 months

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The Warlord and the Revolutionary: A Dracule Mihawk/OC Romance - Chapter 5: Laughing in the Rain

Summary: Mihawk has never been big on surprises, but when Zoro and Perona showed up on Kuraigana, Mihawk took it in stride. He learned how to adjust and even slowly began to enjoy their company. Just under a year later, another surprise showed up on his island - his ex-girlfriend, on the verge of death. The one he hasn't seen in fifteen years. And he might still love her.

Slice of life goth family cuteness headcanons mixed with OC romance.

Chapter 5 word count: 5568

The next morning, Olivia woke when the sun reached her bed through the tall gothic windows. Stretching cautiously, she noticed the ache in her muscles had subsided quite a lot, though it still panged dully in some places more than others. At this rate, she’d be able to move without pain in no time. She found it odd that Dr. Takahashi had given her such a long recovery time - she knew she had been on death’s door, but it felt excessive. But hey, what did she know about medicine? And anyway, it’s not like she was complaining. Starting the shower, she recalled the previous day with Zoro, Perona, and Mihawk with a smile. How her former lover had looked at her so gently and welcomed her into his home, even after the heartbreak from all those years ago, not an ounce of resentment in his eyes, but perhaps a tinge of something hopeful. How he had made her her favorite meal, and it was every bit as good as she remembered. It wasn’t much, but it was enough that she looked forward to what today would bring. Still, though…she couldn’t get her hopes up, and she had to be cautious and not allow herself to get caught up in her feelings. She was still a Revolutionary, after all, and he was still a Warlord, a tool of the World Government who exchanged his principles for a little extra freedom.

As the hot water washed over her, she thought back to fifteen years ago, and the night that ended their relationship.

After far too much time apart, Mihawk was looking forward to seeing Olivia again. The two had agreed to meet on this day in Alubarna months ago. Over the almost two years it had been since Olivia joined the Revolutionary Army, the two had found that planning ahead was the best way to ensure that they would get some time together - and even then, it wasn’t fool-proof. The nature of travel by sea, limited communication, and the missions Olivia was usually on had already caused them to miss each other before. It was impossibly hard sometimes. Mihawk yearned for the days when he had her by his side all the time. It was easy, then - they woke up together, sailed, hunted Marines, and fell asleep together at night, her smaller frame tucked closely against his chest. But even though he wished things were different, he couldn’t deny that he was proud of her. She was out living her dream, the way she had supported him in achieving his. It was only fair, even if it was less than ideal.

Sitting in the windowsill of the room he’d rented for them, Mihawk looked out at the street below, waiting to catch a sight of Olivia’s violet hair in the crowd. He wondered if she had seen the newspaper that morning - the front page had touted his image and the headline “WORLD’S GREATEST SWORDSMAN DRACULE MIHAWK TO JOIN WARLORDS.” He had hoped her arrival would precede the announcement in the newspaper of the deal he had only recently brokered with the World Government, as he had wanted to surprise her with the news himself. He smiled, looking forward to the days when perhaps their reunions could be a bit more frequent, and the time apart slightly less long.

Despite being a man who was frequently restless, Mihawk also had a strange yearning for stability. He wanted a place to come home to - a place with her. He loved being at sea, of course, but he was reaching a point where being there all the time was a bit much. While the concept of “settling down” had never appealed to him in his younger days, he had to admit that it was what he now, in his late 20’s, was starting to want. Marriage? Sure, if Olivia felt the need, but he could take it or leave it. Children? Unlikely - even if he’d thought of himself as particularly paternal, which he didn’t, he knew only too well the fate that awaited many children of pirates, and he believed it would be selfish to bring new lives into a lifestyle he himself wasn’t willing to give up. Olivia had never been a fan of the idea either from an ethical standpoint, nor did she think of herself as the maternal type. But a home, a shared bed, a plot of land to call their own? A living room full of books and music, and a kitchen where the two could make their culinary creations in harmony? Perhaps a garden, and maybe one day a cat? That was something Mihawk wanted with every cell in his body.

A shock of purple hair cut through the earth tones that were so prevalent in this country. It was her - she was on her way. He considered calling out to her, but thought better of it, instead waiting for her to check in at the main office and approach their room herself.

In a matter of minutes, there was a knock on the door. Unable to suppress a grin, Mihawk bolted from the windowsill and raced towards the door, opening it to the woman he loved. His grin faltered when he saw the look on her face, one he had seen before, but never directed at him - anger and disappointment. Without a word, she shoved past him and into the room.

“Olivia?” he asked quietly. Only then did he notice the newspaper in her hand. Her back was to him, her head down.

Olivia spoke so quietly Mihawk almost couldn’t hear her. “How could you, Mihawk?”

Mihawk walked up to her and placed his hands on her shoulders, gently turning her towards him. Her head was still down, but he could see the tears falling slowly down her cheeks.

“Olivia, I’m sorry, I wanted to surprise you -”

“A hell of a surprise!” she said angrily, meeting his eyes for the first time, the pain in them making his heart sink. “What the hell were you thinking? Why would you do something like this, after everything I’ve worked for in the past two years? Why would you betray me like this?”

Betrayal? She had it all wrong. “Liv, listen - this is a good thing. It ensures your safety from the World Government, it makes your job easier, and it means we can get a place of our own, a place where we can meet more often, close to headquarters.” Olivia scoffed as Mihawk reached for her face. “I…I wanted to make our lives easier, I did this for you and for us.”

“No, you wanted to make your life easier, and you sold yourself out as a government dog to get it,” she bit back, removing herself from his hands. “This had nothing to do with me, and don’t you dare insult me by pretending it did! If you had any consideration at all for what was best for me, you would have thought about how this would look to the Revolutionary Army, and to Dragon. How do you think they’re going to react, with one of their lieutenants dating a Warlord? How do you think it will affect their trust in me?”

Mihawk looked down. She was right. He hadn’t considered that at all. Suddenly, it all seemed like a horrible idea, and he could feel the regret sinking into his chest.

Olivia sat down on the edge of the bed, her head down as the tears continued to fall. Mihawk joined her, sitting farther away than he might normally. The sinking feeling in his stomach told him what was about to happen.

“It’s not too late, Mihawk. You can join us, you know. It wouldn’t be perfect at first, we might not be working together all the time, but it would be so much better than this. You know you have an open invitation.”

“I know….” Silence overtook the air between them. “I can’t, Olivia. You know how I feel.”

Olivia let out a scoff. “I know. You value sailing under your own flag too much. More than you value anything else.”

Mihawk looked up in shock. “That’s not fair, Liv!”

“But it’s true, isn’t it?” She met his eyes, her green ones and his golden ones full of pain. “Mihawk, you agree with everything the Revolutionary Army stands for. You want to see a change in the status quo just as much as I do, and yet you won’t step up and help us achieve it. You say you want to make our lives easier, you want to make our relationship better, but you won’t do the one thing that is guaranteed to help.”

Mihawk had nothing to say to that. She was right, but he was far too stubborn and too proud to align himself permanently with any other crew, even if he did believe wholeheartedly in their mission.

Silence, again, then Olivia spoke in a small voice. “Will you at least resign from the Warlord position?” She looked up at him expectantly.

Mihawk thought of everything he could have as a Warlord - that stability he craved so much, the freedom he wanted so badly. He felt her eyes on him as he thought. Being a Warlord was going to give him everything he wanted - except her. Finally, he looked over to meet her gaze.

“I can’t,” he replied, his voice finally cracking with emotion.

Olivia let out a sob, covering her face with her hands. He wanted to reach out to comfort her, but somehow it felt wrong. “Olivia…I love you so much. I want to spend my life with you, but…”

“It’s okay, I get it. I love you, Mihawk.” She wiped the tears from her face with the palms of her hands.

“This is it, isn’t it?”

Olivia could only nod, rising from the edge of the bed. Mihawk followed, and wrapped his arms around her, allowing her to bury her head against his chest. Together, the two stood there as time passed around them, for how long exactly they didn’t know. He tried his best to commit to memory the feeling of her body against his, the smell of her hair, and the way her arms felt wrapped around his neck. Eventually they broke apart, and met each other’s tear-stained gazes. She placed her hand against his cheek, and he leaned into it, relishing the feel of her skin for the last time.

“Goodbye, Mihawk.” Oliva said, removing herself from his embrace and making her way to the door. Mihawk couldn’t bring himself to respond.

When she shut the door behind her, Mihawk’s body gave out, and he sank to his knees.

Olivia couldn’t tell if the wetness on her face was from the shower or if a few tears had slipped out. Even after all that time, the memory still left a dull pain in her chest. Leaving Mihawk that day was the hardest thing she had ever done, but they had both made their choices. What else was she to do? It was for the best, she rationalized. Their split gave Mihawk the freedom he craved so badly, and gave her the opportunity to rise through the ranks of the Revolutionary Army, to the point where she was now a member of Dragon’s inner circle. Ironically, she did have more freedom now than she did way back then, as her rank allowed. While the work was still difficult and dangerous, and the missions often long, she had earned the ability to take time to herself when needed. Speaking of the Revolutionary Army…

I should probably let them know I’m not dead, Olivia thought. She hadn’t checked in with headquarters since she arrived on the previous island, and they were probably getting worried. She made a mental note to retrieve her transponder snail from her ship later.

Stepping out of the shower and drying off, Olivia prepared herself for the day, layering a long sweater over her black pants, and fixing her hair in a braided updo. She then left her room.

Entering the kitchen, Olivia could hear Zoro and Perona squabbling lightly.

“Zoro, you’re gonna burn the hollandaise, turn down the stove!”

“But if I raise the temperature it’ll cook faster. Why would I cook it in five minutes when I can do it in five seconds?”

“I’ve told you before, it doesn’t work that way! Do you want crusty, gross sauce with your eggs benedict?”

Walking in, Olivia couldn’t help but smile at the two younger residents, and she was glad to see Zoro making an attempt at cooking. Mihawk had been right - scurvy was nothing to mess with.

“Morning,” Olivia greeted, which the duo returned cheerily, albeit slightly preoccupied with keeping Zoro from ruining breakfast. Perhaps hollandaise was a little advanced for his skill set at this point, a thought Perona must have shared as she bumped him out of the way. Olivia didn’t even notice Mihawk had joined them until she felt him lean against the counter next to her, crossing one leg over the other in a relaxed stance. They smiled at each other and watched the other two silently.

“You gotta do it lower and slower, Zoro, otherwise it’s gonna curdle and break. Look, like this.” Zoro watched as she lowered the temperature of the stove and slowly stirred the creamy sauce, his brow creased as the gears turned in his brain. He’d get there eventually.

With breakfast saved, Mihawk spoke. “How are you feeling, Liv? Any better?”

“Much, actually,” She responded. “The pain has gone down significantly, I’m almost feeling like my old self.”

Mihawk smiled. “I’m glad to hear it.” When breakfast was ready, the foursome made their way to the table.

“Zoro and I usually start the morning with training outside,” Mihawk began to Olivia. “Then shower, lunch, and if you’re up for it, I can show you around after?”

Olivia beamed. “I’d love that. I can’t wait to see the rest of the place.” Mihawk smiled and returned to his eggs benedict. It wasn’t half bad.

“You should come watch them train with me,” Perona offered with a sly grin. “I love watching Zoro get beat up.”

“I don’t always get beat up!” Zoro bit back.

“You get beat up more than Mihawk does!”

“I have yet to get beaten up by Zoro,” Mihawk said to Olivia with a conspiratorial smile.

“Give it time, old man,” Zoro replied, smirking.

After breakfast, Olivia forced the dirty dishes out of Mihawk’s hands and planted herself firmly in front of the sink.

“I’m not dying anymore, please let me help out. Please?” She gave him her best puppy dog eyes.

Mihawk raised his hands in defeat. He couldn’t say no to her. Olivia took over washing the dishes, with Perona on drying duty, while the two men made their way outside.

When the dishes were done, the two women followed, noticing the swordsmen had already gotten started as they made their way down the front steps. Mihawk leapt off of a crumbling stone wall and launched a downward attack at Zoro, who raised two of his swords in an X formation to block it. Olivia was impressed as Zoro’s hands and swords quickly turned a glossy black. So Mihawk was teaching him about Haki. She recalled how she used to watch Mihawk when he was in Zoro’s position many years ago, as Rayleigh taught the young man who would become the World’s Greatest Swordsman about using the power.

Mihawk backed away to provide Zoro with some guidance she couldn’t quite hear before launching into the attack again. Mihawk seemed pleased this time, but Olivia couldn’t quite tell the difference between what had happened before and what had happened now. She wasn’t a swordsman, after all, but she knew Zoro was in the best possible hands to achieve his goal. She didn’t want to think about what achieving that goal might mean for him, though.

Olivia and Perona passed the time watching the two men train and making conversation. She couldn’t deny that she loved watching Mihawk work - the way his white shirt fluttered over his torso, his strong back muscles moving underneath. She loved the look of determination he always carried. Mihawk was, if nothing else, confident in everything he did, and it showed. She wondered if he enjoyed taking on the role of teacher.

When the sun was high in the sky, Perona retreated inside to begin making lunch. Olivia intended to follow her, but decided to linger for a few more minutes, allowing her gaze to rest on the elder swordsman. Blocking an attack from Zoro, Olivia was caught off guard when Mihawk glanced over at her with a devilish grin and a wink. Blushing madly, she turned away to go back inside. Stupid Observation Haki.

After training the group had lunch together, then Mihawk and Zoro retreated to their rooms to clean up. Olivia took the opportunity to wander into the next room, which was the living room where she had recovered her first night in the castle. The room was grand, with the walls bearing portraits of people long dead, depictions of ancient battles, and heavy woven tapestries. The fireplace loomed in the center of the room, and before it was a velvet couch. Sitting down and taking in the space around her, something in a far corner by a window caught Olivia’s eye. Rising from her seat, she walked over to it - it was a grand piano. Olivia learned the instrument from the resident musician on Roger’s crew when she was a kid, and was rather good at it if she could say so herself, but her opportunities to play nowadays were scarce. Resting on top of the piano was a closed violin case - that one was definitely Mihawk’s. The thin layer of dust on it told her that it hadn’t seen use in quite some time.

Pulling out the bench and lifting the cover from the keys, Olivia played a few tentative notes, then began a simple melody. It was mostly in tune, but a handful of keys came across flat, something she was pretty sure she knew enough to be able to fix. She knew Mihawk didn’t really play and didn’t think Zoro or Perona did either - the piano probably hadn’t been used in quite some time.

“Why am I not surprised to find you here?” Mihawk’s voice broke through her thoughts. She hadn’t realized he’d been in the doorway watching her play for several minutes.

Olivia glanced up at him as he sauntered over to her, never stopping the melody. “It needs a little work to get back in tune. Maybe you can help me with that later?”

“Of course.” He offered her a hand and she rose from the bench.

“Looks like you haven’t played in a while?” she said, nodding to the violin case.

“It’s…yes, it’s been a while. I do miss it, certainly. But you know me, I’ve never been big on playing for an audience.”

Olivia knew exactly what he meant. Though naturally confident in everything he did, Mihawk carried a certain shyness when it came to playing the violin. He was exceptionally talented at it, a fact she knew he was aware of, but he also wasn’t a born performer the way someone like Buggy was. He only rarely liked to play for anyone who wasn’t her. With Zoro and Perona around constantly, she understood why he was reluctant to do it, but perhaps with some gentle prodding and a few glasses of wine she thought she might be able to convince him.

Mihawk began Olivia’s grand tour, first taking her through the highlights of the castle, then bringing her outside to show her the rest of the island. The sky above the fog was overcast, and the wind blustery, signaling a possible storm on the island.

Mihawk was thrilled to see how enthralled Olivia was in learning about the Shikkearu Kingdom that had previously inhabited the island, as well as the two dozen or so long rows of now-harvested garden.

“You made all of this yourself?” she asked in awe.

“I did. It took some time to create a decent harvest, but I’ve mostly got it down to a science at this point. Zoro and Perona enjoy working out here as well. When it’s growing season, we’ve got an herb garden, vegetables, and even a few fruit trees along the edge of the forest. Everything I can’t grow here, I get on an island about forty five minutes away, the one where Dr. Takahashi lives. Perona and I will be doing a supply run there in a few weeks, if you’d like to join us.”

“I’d love to.”

From the farm, the two wandered into the forest, taking the time to catch up on how their lives have gone since they parted all those years ago. The sound of sudden movement caused Olivia to stop in her tracks and turn towards the noise. A series of shrill cries followed.

“Don’t mind them, it’s just the Humandrills. They won’t bother you as long as you’re with me,” said Mihawk.

“Humandrills?” Olivia asked. Mihawk explained to her about the island’s other residents and their unique and uncanny ability to learn from humans. She could see the looming figures moving through the forest and felt their eyes on her from a distance, but they never came close enough for her to get a good look. It was a bit unnerving, but she trusted Mihawk’s assertion that they would do her no harm.

At the other edge of the forest, they came across what appeared to be the ruins of a village. The stone and thatch houses were almost completely destroyed, though some stood better than others. Olivia winced as they crossed the remnants of the town square, a sudden ache coursing through her muscles.

“You okay?” asked Mihawk, a look of concern crossing his face.

“I’m fine,” she replied. “Just still a little sore.”

“We have walked quite a long way…I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have let us wander so far given your condition.”

“I don’t mind,” Olivia replied. “I’ve been having fun.”

Mihawk smiled. “Let’s take a break, then.” Mihawk took a seat on top of a low stone wall at the far side of the square. Olivia lifted herself up and sat next to him, resuming their conversation. The discussion flowed so easily, still, after all this time, and was peppered with laughter.

Olivia looked up as she noticed movement coming from the forest. An enormous ape emerged and sauntered into the square. The ape glanced over at Mihawk, who nodded in affirmation of something she didn’t understand, but the ape apparently did, as it plopped itself down by a crumbling concrete fountain. To her shock, it wore crude armor and carried an enormous sword. A sword which looked an awful lot like -

“That’s their leader,” Mihawk said. “As you can see, he’s modeled himself after me.”

“They can…forge weapons?” Olivia asked tentatively.

“Oh, yes. They’re a bit crude, certainly, but they figured it out just by watching the island’s previous inhabitants. It’s a fascinating microcosm of human evolution, really.”

The sound of squawking apes brought Olivia’s gaze back to the edge of the forest, where two smaller apes emerged. One wore a tattered haramaki, and the other carried a parasol. As they entered the square, the two smaller Humandrills were clearly in the midst of an argument, one which ended when the leader screeched loudly and knocked each one over the head with a fist. Rubbing the lumps on their heads, the three apes settled down.

Olivia let out a laugh. The concept was insane, it was like nothing she had ever seen in all her travels, and she’d seen some crazy things.

“You want to know what the real kicker is?” Mihawk asked. She looked over at him. “Those two,” he nodded towards the younger Humandrills, “are his actual children.”

“Ha!” Olivia laughed again, her face starting to ache from smiling so much. Mihawk loved that he could make her laugh - he had never once in his life been described as “funny,” but he sure knew how to bring that reaction out of her.

“So, how’s single fatherhood treating you, then?” Olivia asked with a devilish grin.

Mihawk sighed and placed his arms on the edge of the wall behind him, leaning back. “It’s my own personal hell.” The slight grin on his face told her that he didn’t entirely believe that.

“Oh come on, Mihawk,” Olivia said with a nudge to his ribs.

“It’s…it’s different. Being responsible for others is strange, having people show up at my house and start living there is strange, teaching the man who is presumably going to kill me one day how to do exactly that is very strange…all of it is something I never expected in my life.”

“You didn’t kill your predecessor,” Olivia said.

“No, I didn’t.”

“Does Zoro know that?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Gonna tell him?”

Mihawk shrugged. “I don’t know. He’s never asked about the man I defeated, and I’ve never offered to tell him. I believe he’ll have to come to the same conclusion I did that taking one’s title doesn’t necessarily have to mean ending their life on his own. I don’t think I can teach him that lesson directly.”

A moment of comfortable silence settled between them. “You’re happy though? Being here, being with them?” Olivia asked. A smile crossed Mihawk’s face. “I suppose you could say that. We’ve developed a good routine, and while I still prefer solitude and am very much looking forward to the day they leave, I’ve certainly never been bored once since they arrived.”

“They completely adore you, you know. Both of them, but Zoro especially. It’s easy to see how much he admires you.” Mihawk knew this, and the feeling was, reluctantly, mutual. If he’d ever had any doubt that they cared about him, he only had to look back at how they were there to support him when Olivia arrived on the island a few days before.

“I have to admit, teaching Zoro, cooking with Perona, having a few extra lives in the place…it’s noisy and frustrating and often makes me want to rip my hair out of my head. But it’s also…sometimes…” a pained expression crossed Mihawk’s face as he tried to get himself to say the word. “...Fun. I guess. Whatever.” Olivia chuckled. “Not that I’m ever going to let them know that, of course.”

“Oh please,” she responded. “Would it kill you to show your unofficial children a little love?”

“You know as well as I do that it’s tradition for pirates who suffer the fate of being adoptive parents to never show any affection, let their children know how much of a pain in the ass they are every single day, and just sort of hope that the love shows through. Who am I to mess with a successful formula? It worked for us, right?” Mihawk smirked at Olivia.

Olivia laughed at the fond, if painful, memories of her time on the Oro Jackson and her adoptive dads Roger and Rayleigh. Of the three youngsters, Shanks had always been the golden child, receiving Roger’s beloved straw hat at age 9. Unfortunately for Olivia and Buggy, Shanks was also a massive troublemaker, a fact that the captain and his right hand man couldn’t ignore, and constantly got them involved in his mischief. Olivia tried to be the responsible older sister, but even she couldn’t always say no to Shanks. Punishments were harsh, though they became slightly less physical on Olivia when she hit puberty and it clicked for them that she was, in fact, a girl. Despite all of this, Roger and Rayleigh still kept them on board, ensured they had a decent education, taught them everything they knew about being a pirate, and occasionally, over a few drinks and when they didn’t think the apprentices were around, would laugh loudly over their antics. Olivia knew her father figures loved her, even if they never said it directly, and she knew Mihawk had a similar experience in the early days of his youth.

Mihawk brought his legs onto the wall to sit cross legged facing Olivia, his head down. She mirrored his action. “Olivia…” he began reluctantly. “Do you…do you still hold a grudge against me for what happened? When we broke up?”

“Mihawk…” he looked up and met her eyes. “Of course not. Honestly, looking back I think I could have handled everything a little better. I was just so shocked and scared about what you being a Warlord would mean for us and for my career, and it all came out pretty harsh. I know you never meant to hurt me, and I’m so, so sorry for how it all went down.”

“Liv, I’m sorry too. What you said that day was right, you know. I did what I wanted and I didn’t consider enough how it would affect you. I was selfish, far too selfish to be a good partner to you at the time.”

“Do you regret it? I mean, maybe regret’s not the right word…But are you happy with how your life has turned out? With the freedom being a Warlord has given you?”

Mihawk shrugged. “I suppose so. I can’t say I don’t enjoy my life, for the most part. I don’t love being a Warlord, but I do appreciate the perks that come with it. What about you? Are you happy with how things turned out?”

“Overall I am. It’s been a lot of hard work. It’s lonely, it’s often scary, I’ve lost a lot of people I care about in the line of duty. But I’m as confident today that this is what I’m supposed to do as I was when I joined up all those years ago.” A beat of silence, then she spoke again. “Things are changing, Mihawk. I don’t know if you’ve felt it too, but big things are coming. I don’t exactly know what that means, but…”

“No, I’ve sensed it as well. And heard the rumors, some certainly more true than others. I believe the events of the next few years will change the world as we know it. And somehow I have a feeling that the Straw Hats will be at the center of it all.”

Olivia looked up. The sky was completely covered by clouds, and a string of lightning flashed across the sky. “I don’t disagree.”

“Olivia…” Mihawk reached his hand out and softly laid it on top of hers. They both watched as their fingers intertwined. It felt right, like slotting together two pieces of a puzzle. His thumb ran softly over the top of her hand. Electricity shot through their bodies, unrelated to the lightning above them.

Olivia lifted her head to meet his eyes, which looked at her with longing and a question he didn’t yet have the ability to voice: Is there still something here? She only smiled softly, not quite ready to address that directly either, or figure out what exactly it would mean for them. But she couldn’t deny how he made her feel.

A clap of thunder broke them from their thoughts, their hands pulling apart quickly. “We should get back to the castle,” Mihawk said, “and fast.” The Humandrill family must have had the same idea, as they scampered back into the woods, Mihawk and Olivia following close behind. They didn’t get far before they felt the first rain drops on their heads. By the time they reached the entrance to the forest, the rain was coming down in sheets, soaking them both to the bone.

“Wait, Mihawk, I need a second,” Olivia panted, her hands on her knees. Mihawk approached her with a concern that disappeared the second he realized she was laughing. Looking at her with her strands of wet, violet hair sticking to her face and her boots making a squishing sound with every step, he couldn’t help but laugh too. He wasn’t in much better condition, his usually slicked back hair now hanging down over his eyes and his white shirt almost transparent. They would have been quite a sight to anyone who had chanced upon them - a Warlord and a Revolutionary, laughing in the rain together like it was the funniest thing they’d ever seen. Fortunately, it was just the two of them.

“Come on, we need to get in before you get sick again.” He grabbed her by the hand, and together they ran the rest of the way to the castle, up the front stairs, and into the entrance hall. They caught their breath, leaning against the heavy doors and smiling at each other as water pooled on the floor around them, still letting out the occasional laugh.

“We were worried sick about you two!” Perona’s voice echoed through the hallway. With ghosts in tow and Zoro not far behind, Perona floated up to them and handed them each a fluffy green towel.

“Got caught in the storm, huh?” Zoro said leaning casually against the wall, taking in how the two elder residents couldn’t stop looking at each other with smiles splitting their faces as they dried themselves off and slipped out of their wet boots.

“Sorry, guys, we didn’t even notice it coming.”

Previous - Chapter 4: Reminiscing

Next - Chapter 6: Over the Transponder Snail

#dracule mihawk x oc #dracule mihawk x reader #dracule mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #takanome mihawk #one piece goth fam #goth family

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