#what are we. as a family unit. supposed to learn from having another scare. we collectively have suffered so much since March 25th 2021 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

laurie-stark · 3 years

Text

Unwanted-Peter Parker

Summary: Y/n Stark gets more than she bargains for when she joins her Pops, Captian America, for the civil war of the century.

Pairings: Tony Stark x Daughter!Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Daughter!Reader, Steve Rogers x Daughter!Reader, Peter Parker x Stark!Reader

Warnings: swearing, fighting

A/N: Just so you don't get too confused, Y/n is Tony Stark's biological child, however, she was raised by the Avengers and refers to Natasha and Steve as Mama and Pops. Also I wrote this a year ago LOL. Enjoy x

Part Two

New York, 2016

This was bad. Very, very bad. I had seen the secretary come in the compound over the screen of the security monitors. He marched into my home, unannounced and unwelcome, holding himself with purpose. I followed him over the screens, tracking his movements. I watched as he was led through the building, up the elevator and into...the conference room? Oh this was bad. Very, very bad.

I raced as fast as I could. By the time I got the to conference room, the whole group was already sitting in front of the secretary. I saw Wanda first. Her back was to me, but I could see her rigid frame and I knew something was happening. My father saw me approaching through the glass walls. He shot me a look that said "Don't do it. Don't come in here." I didn't obey.

The secretary stopped speaking abruptly when I walked through the doors. He gave me a quizzical look, did a once over and immediately looked at my father. Surely I don't look that much like Tony.

"Sorry I'm late, no one informed me about this team meeting," I gasped, short of breath from all the running. Of course, this was pushing it. As much as I wanted to be a part of the group, fighting was not my style, so I often got left out of important Avengers activities. I got to live with them, but that was it. Tony rose from his seat. He mumbled an apology to the secretary and gently ushered I out of the room. I would have fought back, but seeing the look on my father's face was enough to shut me up. And I never shut up. The secretary resumed his story. Something about golf and a heart attack.

My dad turned to face me. "Look kid, I get that you want to know what's going on, and you will, but today isn't the day."

"Okay," I said. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, it's okay to be curious," he replied, walking back into the meeting. "Stay upstairs, okay hun?" I nodded and started the trek back up to my room. I shut the door and flopped onto my bed. Out of my long list of pet peeves, this was number one. Sure, I didn't want to fight, but come on family, I should at least get to be in on what's going on! Maybe I could help. I have powers for God sake. I am more than capable of helping the Avengers. But they always saw me as the little girl who needs protection.

"April, pull up security footage of the conference room please," I asked. April, the AI I built, that was modeled after Friday, projected the video surveillance from the ceiling. "Volume up." The group was in the same position as from when I left. The secretary was passing around the room. There was a thick white book being passed around the table.

"The Avengers were formed to make the world a safer place," Steve said quietly. "I feel we've done that."

The secretary looked down at him. "Tell me Cap, do you know where Thor and Banner are right now?" What? You were so confused. Why did the secretary care where my uncles were? No one answered the secretary's question, so he kept talking. I racked your brain to find the answers on my own. "...this is the middle ground." The secretary pointed at the book, now lying untouched on the table.

"And if we come to a decision you don't like?" Natasha asked.

"The you retire," the secretary responded. With that, he left the room and I scurried back downstairs.

Everyone was in the living room. I sat in the stairwell, again being uninvited to this group discussion. I listened to them fight. I figured out what was going on. The United Nations were being ungrateful little bitches and hated that they didn't have control over my family. So they gave an ultimatum: give in or give up. From the sounds of it, Uncle Rhodes, Vision and two of my four parents were in agreement with the accords. Steve and Sam were against it. Wanda hadn't said a word. Tension was growing high, I could feel it. I heard my father conclude that he won and a thud of the accords being tossed on the coffee table. Someone got up and left. Before I had the chance to act, the door to the stairwell was torn open. Steve pushed through and nearly stepped on me.

"Eavesdropping?" He smiled.

"You kicked me out, what else am I supposed to do?" I retorted. I noticed the tears welling in Steve's eyes. "Pops, what's wrong?"

Steve's glance fluttered to the ground. "Peggy. She, um..." was all he said. All he had to say. I was smart enough to read between the lines. I stepped forward and hugged Steve. He smiled, grateful that he had me. I knew how much Peggy meant to him. When I was little, he'd always tell me the story about how they met, how they never got that dance. And every time I would make him dance with me. He even took me to visit her once. I was ten and it was Christmas time. Steve told me that he wanted his favorite girl to meet his favorite niece. Now that was all but a memory. I held him tight before telling him to go. It was okay, I could handle the others. He left without a second glance.

Within days the team was scattered. Steve and Sam had gone to Peggy's funeral. Natasha was off to the signing of the Accords in Vienna. And then all hell broke loose when the bombs went off at the signing ceremony. As always, I were left home. I had no idea what was going on. At first this break in the team was about the Accords, but somehow Steve's old pal Bucky got involved. I didn't know what to think. The next thing I knew, everyone left for Berlin to rescue Steve and Sam from jail, leaving myself, Wanda and Vision at home.

When night fell, I was in my room, sulking as one would say. I was spending my evening flipping through Tumblr. There was a new superhero everyone was talking about. He called himself Spider-Man. New York based, focused on small neighborhood crimes. By YouTube footage alone, it was obvious he was a rookie. Soon enough, though, I accidentally conducted a full fledged search on this guy. He seemed shady. Sure, he's helping old ladies cross the street and all, but he just has a vibe. I couldn't put my finger on it. April broke me out of my research when she told me that there was a security breach in the compound. I pulled up the security camera footage and saw Clint Barton in my living room with Wanda levitating a knife at his nose.

I rushed downstairs. When I got to the living room Vision was holding Clint by the neck. I watched in silence as Wanda used her powers on Vision. She made it look easy. Slowly, Vision sunk to his knees. Wanda pushed further and the floor gave way. Vision was pushed through all seventy-four thousand levels of the compound. Wanda and Clint were about to turn to run out when you revealed yourself.

"Now was that really necessary?" I smirked. "We just had the floors waxed."

"Y/n," Clint warned.

"I'm not sitting on my ass," I said. Clint smirked and nodded. He knew he couldn't stop me anyways.

One car ride, plane flight and van trip later, I was in Germany. As it turns out, Steve wanted Clint and Wanda on his side, along with some ant dude named Scott. Scott was cool. Him and I sat together on the plane ride and watched Die Hard. He was asleep in the van when we pulled over in the airport parking lot. Clint told me to stay in the van. For once, I listened. I heard voices belonging to Steve and Sam. Clint slid open the van doors abruptly, shaking Scott awake. I chuckled to myself as he fangirled over my Pops. A voice over the intercom said something in a language I didn't know. A voice I didn't recognize said that the airport was being evacuated.

"Stark." Sam muttered.

Scott looked puzzled. Clearly he hadn't been filled in either. "Stark?" he asked.

I step out of the van. "Yes?" Steve and Sam look at me with wide eyes. Clint gave Steve a sheepish shrug. Behind their little blue car stood Bucky Barnes. I knew who he was. I learned about him in school. I knew he was some evil super soldier that attacked Natasha and Steve. He looked scary. He looked exactly like the type of guy to hurt my Mama and Pops. I held his glance until Steve spoke up.

"Y/n, what are you doing here?" Steve whisper-shouted. His voice always got quiet when he 'yelled' at me.

"I hitchhiked." I replied, knowing that at this point Steve didn't have the time to argue with me. He shook his head in defeat and took a deep breath.

"Suit up."

The airport was huge. Our group got suited up and started for the runway. I didn't know how Steve knew where to find my dad, but I followed him anyways. Before I could get any closer, Bucky held me back.

"It's, uh, not gonna be safe. You should stay here and keep low," he said. I frowned. I did not come all this way to not fight. But even still, I nodded. Bucky scared me. He and Sam took off in another direction to find the getaway jet. I laughed. This whole thing was ridiculous. My attention turned to the sound of my father and Rhodey flying down from the sky.

"Ross gave me 36 hours to bring you in," Tony started. "That was 24 hours ago. Can you help a brother out?"

"You're after the wrong guy," Steve replied nonchalantly.

"Your judgement is askew. Your old war buddy killed innocent people yesterday-"

"And there are five more super soldiers just like him. I can't let the doctor find 'em first Tony. I can't."

"Steve," Natasha approached him slowly. "You know what's about to happen. Do you really wanna punch your way out of this one?"

I took this as my cue. "No, but I will," I said, emerging from my hiding spot. I looked at the faces of your family. My gaze fell on Tony and my smile dropped. He looked angry.

"You brought my daughter into this?" Tony yelled, turning to Steve.

"Technically, I brought myself," I said. "You really think you were gonna leave me out of all the fun?"

Tony pinched his brow. "Y/n, this is serious."

"No it's not," I objected. "No, this got personal the second you thought you were gonna loose Pops to Bucky." No one moved after I said that.

"Alright, I've run out of patience," my father finally spoke. He cupped his hands around his mouth. "Underoos!"

Before I had a chance to process, a red and black blur whipped past my head. It landed on top of a nearby van. It was Spider-Man. As in the Spider-Man. He had taken Cap's shield from him. I said nothing. My father could have recruited me, but instead he chose this little neighborhood nobody. That hurt a little. The Spider-thing and my father bantered for a minute. So he's never even been in a real fight before, I thought.

"You've been busy," Steve smirked.

Tony turned back to Steve. "And you've been a complete idiot. Dragging in Clint and Y/n, rescuing Wanda from a place she doesn't even want to leave, a safe place. I'm trying to keep-" he paused, sighing. "I'm trying to keep to keep you from tearing the Avengers apart."

"You did that when you signed." Steve kept his cool. My father did not.

"Alright, we're done. You're gonna turn Barnes over, you're gonna come with us, now, because it's us! Or squad of J-SOC guys with no compunction of being polite. Come on."

Everyone stood still, waiting. Steve put his web-cuffed hands in the air. Clint shot them free from a mile away. I saw Scott -or a tiny version of him. Spider-Man noticed too, right before Scott grew and kicked him in the face. My dad flew off to retrieve Wanda and Rhodey was ready to take on Cap.

"Hey Mr. Stark, what should I do?" Spider-Man asked. He sounded young.

"What we discussed, keep your distance, web 'em up!" My father barked, as he flew towards Clint and Wanda.

"Okay, copy that," Spider-Man replied. He shot a web at me first. It caught my arm and I got whipped to the ground. I glared at him.

"Really?" I hissed.

"Just following Mr. Stark's orders," He said before swinging off after Bucky. I was left on the ground once everyone dispersed. I tried pulling my hand out of the sticky material that was shot at me, but it was stronger than glue. I was forced to watch the action unfold and wait until Natasha ran past me.

"Mama, a little help here?" I called out to her.

She stopped for a second. "Sorry honey, I really don't want you getting hurt." She ran off and I groaned. No one ever wants me to get hurt. I suppose I should be grateful, but in a moment like this, gratitude is hard to find. I started toying with the web. I wondered if I could break down the molecules. Surely there had to be some sort of H2O compound in it somewhere.

My power surged through me, the current flowing to the hand webbed to the ground. I managed to manipulate the water out, just as I predicted I would. The substance melted off my hands. Gross, I thought. I wiped the remaining web on my pants and got up. The water from the webbing fell to the ground with a splash.

I stood up and examined my surroundings. Natasha was on the ground fighting Scott, who shrunk down and flipped her over her own head. The Black Panther was on the other side of the roof, battling Steve. I didn't move. As much as I wanted to be included, I couldn't bring myself to fight. Not now at least.

The two teams assembled, divided by a line on the pavement. How cinematic. I was on Cap's side. I never meant to fight against my father. If anything, I thought it was funny. I looked out at the team in front of me. They were all lined up, Rhodey, the cat, Tony, Nat, the Spider-brat. Vision hovered above them. A bead of sweat trickled down the back of my neck. I were scared. I wasn't made to fight.

"What do we do Cap?" Sam asked.

"We fight." Steve moved first. We followed in suit. My dad's team mimicked my team's actions and walked closer. We broke into a jog and then a full out run. This was really about to happen. I hoped that my family would go easy on me. I knew what I was doing. I reassured myself of that. I have done a bunch of training, especially with Wanda. I could move the freaking elements with my mind and manipulate gravity! As if the Spider-Man could beat that. I am Y/n fricking Stark. I can do this.

I put a smile on your face, contrasting everyone else's bitter looks. "I call the spider!" I yelled, just as everyone began the battle. Spider-Man heard me and slowed down just a bit. I cocked an eyebrow. He resumed his pace and ran straight for me. I ran headfirst towards him. He threw out his arm to web me, but I was faster. With a swish of my hands, I changed his gravitational pull and made his feet flip out from under him. He landed on his back with a hard thud. As gently as I could, I morphed the pavement under him to trap his hands. "Careful there, Spider-boy. Don't wanna get stepped on." I walked away. I made it about ten steps before I heard the sound of concrete cracking. I turned around and saw that Spider-Man was breaking free of his restraints. I was shocked. He has super strength. Great. I should have moved out of his way because the second he got one hand free, I was webbed against a truck.

"For the record," he said, getting up in my face. "It's Spider-Man." He swung off into the airport through a glass window. I watched the glass rained onto the ground. Taking a deep breath, I quickly removed myself from the webs. I needed a plan. A strategy. I thought about at the opposing team. Everyone was scattered around the airport. I thought about who would be easiest to fight. But then I realized, the strategy wasn't about how they'd fight, but who. There was no way in hell that my parents or Uncle Rhodey would even think about fighting me. The Black Panther didn't know me, so he was a threat. The worst Vision could do was pick me up and fly away, so he was in thr safe zone. That left the spider. I smiled to myself. Rematch time.

By the time I found Spider-Man, he had already webbed Sam and Bucky to the floor. He was perched on top of a light post, saying something about impressing my father. Sam's mini falcon whizzed past me and grabbed Spider-Man by the web. He got pulled out a window, banging his side into the pane on the way out. I ran over to Sam and Bucky. Quickly, I destroyed the webbing and helped them up. They both gave me a quick "Thanks kid," before running back out. I followed them, staying loose on their trail.

Once I got outside my eyes scanned the area for the Spider. I saw Wanda piling cars on my father and Natasha fighting Clint. Then I spotted him, fighting Cap. He was underneath a jet bridge . Cap threw his shield at the support beams and the whole thing fell on top of Spider-Man. He caught it of course, but Cap ran away. I formed my plan.

"Hey!" I called out. I walked around the collapsing jet bridge. I stood in front of the struggling boy. Or man, I didn't know. "Remember me?"

"Heh, how could I forget such a pretty face," he grunted, starting to fold under the weight of the jet bridge. "You wanna give me a hand?" I glared at his face comment, but lifted the jet bridge anyway. He ran out and I let it fall. Both of us stopped for a minute, gasping for breath beside the rubble. He was close enough to hit. So I did. Without warning I threw a punch of air at him. It hit him right in the chest and he got blown back into the side of a van. "What the hell man?" He got up and shot a web at me. I dodged and threw another gust of wind. It shot him out of the air. He webbed at a pole and swung past my face. I redirected his gravitational pull, but not before he got a kick to my face. We both got thrown in different directions. I landed hard on the ground, pain shooting up my spine. I got up first, now angry. Forgetting about my powers, I lunged at him and threw a punch. I missed and he shot webs at my feet, holding me down. Immediately, I dissolved them and Spider-Man's eyes widened. Well, his mask's eye holes did anyway.

"How did you do that?" He yelled. "What kind of witchcraft-"

"Its not witchcraft," I spat. "It's called manipulation of the elements, look it up. I figured there had to be some water compound in this and I was right. All I had to do was remove it."

"That's so cool! And how did you do the foot thing earlier? Was that just the wind you do or do you have telekinesis too? Are you like the Scarlet Witch?" He rambled on. I took this to my advantage and caught him off guard. I used the van he'd hit earlier to become his gravitational pull and yanked. He went slamming into it and groaned. When he tried to get back up, I was already five steps ahead of him. Morphing the earth metals in the van, I contorted it into a shell that crushed Spider-Man until he was covered and stuck.

I heard Scott say that he was gonna tear himself in half over the earpiece. I got distracted from holding Spider-Man down and turned to see a giant Scott. Spider-Man broke free. He tore the shell off himself and threw it at me. I was wacked across the side and fell the the ground again.

"Holy shit!" he says, looking at Scott. His back was to me and I gave him one last wind push. He fell on his face and I laughed. "Oh come on, don't you have some dolls to play with or something?" I just scoffed and walked past him, stepping past his hand that was on the ground. He let out a yelp and you kept walking. Dolls, I thought. I'm thirteen I don't play with dolls. I watched as the rest of the battle went down. I wasn't quite sure what to do. I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

Natasha was standing just behind me. "Come with me." We started jogging off. It was natural for me to listen to her. I realized about five seconds in that technically she was my enemy right about now, but I shrugged it off. I ran through the fight, past the big Scott and towards a warehouse. I could see the outline of a jet get bigger as I approached it. Natasha stopped behind the entrance. She was waiting.

"So what do we do?" I asked.

"We wait to fight," She replied, not taking her eyes off the horizon. I came to realize this probably means I would be fighting her. Maybe she wanted to use me as a hostage or something. No, that's silly. Right?

Steve and Bucky got closer to the building I was in. They nearly made it until Vision laser beamed the shit out of a nearby communications tower. Wanda caught it before it fell, giving the two men time to race towards the jet. I stepped out to help Wanda. The both of us were able to hold the rubble long enough for Steve and Bucky to get through. I panted, proud of myself for getting this far.

A searing pain sliced through my brain. Both myself and Wanda fell to the ground, screaming. I could barely look up to see that Rhodey was sending some sort of wave through the air. The tower fell and Natasha was quick to haul me out of the way before I got crushed. I might be better than Spider-Man, but I definitely don't have his super strength.

Steve and Bucky still managed to get through the falling paces of metal and concrete. Natasha left my side and marched swiftly towards the two men. I couldn't hear them, but I could sense the tension from a mile away. Natasha lifted her arm, taser aimed and ready. Steve held his shield up in defense as Natasha shoots....the Black Panther? I guess she's on our side now? The jet started to take off and you watch an Natasha continues to battle the Panther. I fell to my side, wiped out.

My father flew into the warehouse just as the jet leaves. You thought maybe he was going to fight Natasha for betraying him. I was wrong. He was coming for me. He landed beside me and dropped to his knees. His helmet closed and I could see the worry plastered on his cut up face. He knelt beside me and gently held me up.

"Are you okay?" he asked. I nodded, not really able to make words. He looked over at Natasha, who was looking at us. She had an apologetic look, but I know she doesn't regret letting Cap go. My father let me go and charged off after the jet plane. I lied down, enjoying the feeling of cold concrete against your skin. I closed my eyes.

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

I paced around the living room, driving Nat crazy. I knew that the second my father got home I would be in deep shit. So when Friday alerted me that Tony was home my heart rate went up 29373%. The battle, this fight, it ended worse then I could have imagined. Natasha told me that my father could have died. Rhodey was paralyzed from the waist down. I had no idea if I'd ever see my Pops again. This was bad. Very, very bad.

I slowly walked down the main hall towards the front doors. I was scared. My hands and the back of my neck were sweating. I knew exactly what was coming. Every time I had asked my dad if I could be an honorary Avenger, I got the same lecture. That it was too dangerous, I didn't have the proper training and it's too much for his little girl to handle. Even when I asked to just be a part of the business side of the team, Tony laughed and said no. I've broken a lot of my father's rules, but this was the line. And I had gone so far over.

As I approached the front door, I could hear my father speaking. I heard another voice too. My heart dropped. It was Spider-Man. Why was Spider-Man here? I ducked behind a wall and listened in to the conversation.

"...outstanding job kid. Your fighting technique was on par. And, listen, I know we're not allowed to have kids on this team, but if we need you again, we'll call." I heard my father say.

"Thanks Mr. Stark. This was so cool," Spider-Man replied. I wondered if he had his suit on or not. I wanted to know who this guy was. I revealed myself from behind the wall. The two looked at me. I looked at my father first and fought the urge to burst into tears. He looked awful. His face was all cut up and the black eye he got was still a little swollen. I glanced at the figure beside him and frowned. Spider-Man was a kid. He looked like he was my age. He had a mop of curly brown hair and doe eyes. He was almost equally as beat up as my dad and I gracefully took credit for that.

"Y/n, this is Peter. He's, uh, one of my interns. Kid, this is Y/n," Tony said. My annoyance turned to anger. Now my father was lying to me?

"How old are you?" I asked, eyes narrowing. I knew that I sounded rude, but this kid had kicked me in the face twice. I didn't think he deserved my manners.

"I'm fourteen," Peter gulped. A year older than me. And I kicked his ass, I thought. "You gave me quite a fight back in Berlin."

"Yeah and I beat your ass doing it."

"Speaking of which," Tony spoke up, "I have to talk to Y/n about that. Happy will take you home Peter." Peter nodded and said goodbye to my father. He said goodbye to me, to which I didn't reply. Peter frowned at that as he walked out the door.

My dad turned to me when the door shut. "What," he began, "were you thinking?"

"Well I-"

"No. This is where you listen. Do you know how dangerous that mission was. Do you know how many people got hurt? You saw what happened to Rhodey, that could have been you!"

"But it wasn't" I retorted.

Tony's frown deepened. "That is not the point. You put yourself in serious danger, and for what? So you could feel a little more included? You could have died. This was my one rule, my one ask of you, and your broke it."

"Oh, come on now, I'm a Stark, it's in our blood to not listen to our fathers." My father gave me the coldest look and I shut down. I took a deep breath. "Look, I didn't know that it was gonna be this bad. You know me, daddy, I'm not a fighter, I'm not some hero. You think I would have gone if I knew it would turn out like this? I thought this was just gonna be another one your you and Pops' stupid fights. And yes, I could have gotten hurt, but I think I handled myself pretty well. You saw what I did you that little protege of yours. I beat him to the curb."

"Y/n you were reckless. Peter was prepared for this, he was ready."

"And I still beat him."

"Y/n you're not listening to me. This is why I chose Peter over you. I would have taken you if I knew you wouldn't do something stupid. But you did anyway." And with that he walked away, leaving me, teary-eyed in the front hall.

Tony came by my room later that night to apologize. He said that he was sorry for being harsh, that he just cared about me and I scared him. I knew he meant it and I forgave him, because that's what we do. Besides, it wasn't Tony I was angry with. This is why I chose Peter over you. Tony's words echoed through my head. I knew that he loved me more, I'm his daughter, he had to. But I were jealous. Jealous that stupid Peter Parker got the praise for the work I've wanted to hear for ages. And mad at that stupid spider for being stupid.

This is when I decided that I hate Peter Parker.

441 notes · View notes

ateezmakemeweep · 3 years

Text

broken (part 2).

san x reader

word count: 12k

angst, fluff (tw: mentions of domestic abuse and rape)

(part 1)

no matter how many times you tried to change your thinking patterns, you still classified your life into two parts: before the abuse and after.

you thought, after watching your ex-boyfriend being escorted out of the courtroom with a one-year prison sentence, that you wouldn’t be scared of him anymore.

you thought that moving out of the house and living in your new apartment would make day to day life easier, not needing to see the floor you were beaten on or counter you were forced to have sex on every day.

you thought that having san would make you feel happy and loved and enough. that having a whole new family unit consisting of seven other crazy boys and a crotchety old lady would be enough.

but as you sit curled up on the bathroom floor with tears in your eyes, you’re seeing you severely underestimated everything.

underestimated just how much trauma you still had to sort through and how badly that asshole really did mess you up.

six months ago:

“so we have the surveillance footage and witness testimony from your neighbors,” your lawyer explains gently, an older woman with kind eyes and soft-spoken voice that quickly transforms in the courtroom.

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

the harshest sentence being one year, a measly 365 days compared to the 1,825 he subjected you to every kind of abuse: sexual, emotional, mental, physical.

hitting and grabbing and slapping until your skin was littered with bruises and cuts.

talking so harshly to you that you believed dying was the best option, stripping you from any sort of confidence or self-esteem you once had.

making you feel completely inept and useless, solely viewing you as a piece of property he could boss around and use at his disposal.

you had left the office with shaking hands and a pounding heart, barely being able to dial san’s number before he answered after one ring.

this was the first appointment you’ve went to without him, insisting he can’t and won’t miss his midterm for this.

“hi, love. everything go okay?” he asks softly, with the sweet gentle voice that has quite literally kept you alive these past few months.

you don’t know what you did in another life to deserve san but you know that without him, you probably wouldn’t have made it this far. without his constant support and sweet reassurances, you wouldn’t have believed you could ever do this.

willingly tell police officers and lawyers about what happened to you, break down and expose yourself in such a way that always made you feel weak and pathetic.

admit aloud that, yes, you’ve been a victim of abuse and no, those bruises and scars on your body aren’t from clumsy falls into the wall or cabinet.

without him, accompanying you to the police station or lawyer’s office, where you knew jungkook was lingering, you would’ve never felt safe.

you would’ve broke down and took it all back, told them that you made it all up and to release him because he didn’t do anything wrong.

but he did so much wrong and you and san know that. the police and lawyers and judges know it too, several outbursts from the man in court and at the station proving that.

it’s what makes the thought of a personal statement so hard, having to look your ex-boyfriend in the face and watch him stare you down with not an ounce of remorse or sorrow.

san must know it too, if your silence through the phone tells him anything, and you can already hear shuffling in the background as he prepares to leave his class and head to your apartment.

“are you done with your test?” you ask first, voice sweet but mousy in a way that makes san’s stomach sink

he knew today was gonna be rough for you, he knew he should’ve asked his professor to retake the midterm next week.

“yes,” the boy answers immediately, knowing he’s about to run back into the classroom, circle c for the last three answers and haul ass to his car.

“san, are you-”

“i was done, it’s fine, y/n,” he confirms gently, feet moving and body desperate to rush toward your apartment.

because he knows after all of this time, you’ve learned to hold back your pain and suffering. years of practice and keeping tears at bay that he’s noticed have made these months difficult for you two.

and he hates knowing that you still wait till you’re alone to cry.

that even though every time you do, he wipes away every tear and holds you to his chest until you fall asleep, you still feel most comfortable being sad alone.

that you’re probably already home now, about to bury your face in a pillow and sob until you hear his car and wipe your cheeks clean like nothing is wrong.

but there’s a lot wrong.

a lot wrong with how you’ve been treated and how hard it is to move past it.

a lot wrong with the legal system that makes this painful journey even more exhausting, forcing you to recount memory after memory and answer question after question about the worst ordeals of your life.

that’s why san can’t help but turn in his test and rush out the door to his car, speeding off campus and onto the highway in hot pursuit of your apartment above the bakery.

it had seemed like perfect little place to get you back on your feet, the smell of freshly baked bread and pleasant bustle of regulars greeting you in the early morning hours.

there was no commute for you, just a walk down the stairs and through the yellow door of the bakery, where simple work waited for you.

“you just need to ring up the customers and maybe clean a table or two. most people take their things to go,” your boss had told you, a divorced mother of three who spent most of her life baking before she was finally able to open up a place of her own.

it was simple work but it was more than you’d done in years, something as little as small talk with regulars successfully draining you. filling you with a nervousness and fear that you’re still feeling even without your ex’s presence.

but it’s in the way a man yells on the phone about a business deal going sour while waiting for his morning coffee.

a woman chastising her kids saying that they won’t get to eat the cookies she’s buying after dinner.

the slam of the door when a harsh gust of wind howls from outside and rattles the small bakery with light blue walls and pictures of bread and desserts.

you don’t know how many coffees you’ve spilt or plates you’ve broken from jumping at the harsh sounds, realizing little by little how hard this transition was gonna be.

even with san and his friends and your boss and the crazy old lady who secured this new life for you in the first place, it’s still hard.

you can’t even imagine doing all of these new things alone, just living in such a simple way that the average person takes for granted.

but you suppose it’s not all simple yet, going back and forth between meetings with your lawyer and the police for the court date that’s rapidly approaching.

you can feel that the closer it comes, the harder it is to breathe.

the mere thought of seeing the man who hurt you for the longest five years of your life, sitting in front of you with not an ounce of remorse on his face. making this process even harder because how are you supposed to talk in front of him?

see clear as day that you’re not safe and you never will be.

that he’s gonna get out in a year, because that’s the harshest sentence possible without you being hospitalized or dead, and hurt you again. he’s never gonna stop hurting you because he always said you were his and he wouldn’t ever hesitate to-

you don’t even hear the jingle of san’s keys opening the front door or his softly spoken call of your name.

you’re only aware of his presence when you feel his warm, small hands cup your face, his thumbs rubbing over your wet, salty skin as he mutters your name lowly.

“hey, i’m here, i’m here,” he mumbles sweetly, tone soft and gentle the way it always is no matter what the circumstances are.

he plops down on the couch before pulling you into his lap, his hand rubbing up and down your back gently. you hear the quiet but firm “sh, sh, sh,” against your head, the sharp calming hums always in threes as an attempt to ground you.

you try to focus on his calming sounds and even breaths, the hand on your back so warm and gentle as he lulls your panicked body into a calmer state.

you bury your face in his chest and breathe in his scent, cologne and detergent mixed with his natural scent that lingers on your pillow every morning.

“i-i’m sorry.”

the words make his stomach plummet, tears burning his eyes because you never have anything to be sorry for. you never have anything to be sorry for and you say it all the time.

when you bump into him in the kitchen while making food together.

when you sit on the remote and change the channel by accident.

when you burnt the cookies one night and made the fire alarm go off.

he remembers that being one of the worse nights, the loud noises making you jump while also flinching away when he lifted his arm up to fan away the smoke. and then you immediately apologized again, cookies long forgotten before he grabbed your hand and led you into the living room.

he just held your hand as you both watched tv, his thumb rubbing over your skin before you spoke words so quietly, he almost missed them.

“i wish...i would stop doing that.”

he cranes his neck over to look at you, eyebrow raised and eyes soft as he looks at you questioningly.

he wants to tease and say that you’ve never burnt the cookies before but anytime you feel comfortable enough to talk to him like this, he never wants to say the wrong thing.

“i...i know you would never hurt me,“ you continue after a few moments. “and i know i’m just...scared easily, i guess. but it makes me feel bad,” you admit quietly, heart pulling in your chest as you look at the man beside you.

he has gotten you through the hardest times of your life, has been by your side every step of the way with no questions or complaints, and you haven’t been able to repay him.

not even with a plate of fucking cookies.

“you don’t have to feel bad, y/n,” san says gently, his hand reaching out slowly to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear.

your eyes close at his feather light touch and the way it makes your heart jump, his fingers lingering on you in a way that makes you feel so safe and content.

“and i know it’s hard to believe still but you have nothing to be scared of either. i’m not gonna let anyone hurt you again and i mean that.”

“but i feel like i’m hurting you,” you mumble softly, pulling your knees up as you rest your head on the couch cushion. his brows pull together as his eyes roam your face, a pout on his lips the more he looks at you in silence.

“you’ve helped me so much and i just...” tears fill your eyes as you struggle to find the words and breathe. you’ve only been living in your new house for two months now and almost every day, san has been here.

bringing you food, helping you clean and decorate, spending late nights with you watching movies, helping you through an inevitable fit of panic when your memories and life become too much.

he makes it easier to breathe and you’re scared that without him, you’re gonna stop one day.

“i just keep... taking from you. you get nothing out of helping me but you still do it anyway and i...you shouldn’t even bother, san. i-i’m not worth this time and i just want you to-”

“stop.”

he tries to keep the anger out of his voice knowing that all of this is what you’ve been told. you’ve been told your whole life that you weren’t enough, were only deemed worthy by a piece of shit who did nothing but hurt and berate you.

but it doesn’t make it any less hard to hear. to hear in your voice and see in your eyes that you truly believe you’re not worth the time he wants to put into you.

“you’re worth the time to me,” he says, voice gentle but firm in a way that makes a lump form in your throat. his finger reaches out to trace small circles on your hand, your eyes following it so he doesn’t see the tears building up.

“i like seeing you happy, y/n. and i wanna help you.”

your teary eyes meet his and you swallow the growing lump in your throat when you see the look on his face, soft and sweet in a way you still can’t believe is directed toward you.

“i feel like i need a lot of help,” you mutter, voice barely above a whisper as you think back to how day to day life is so challenging and draining.

the loud voices and the screaming kids and banging door that sends you into a panic. the broken dishes and tear stains on your pillow that are there more often than not after san leaves every night.

but san’s hearing each and every word right now, his heart panging in his chest at how vulnerable you are right now. how you let him see this side of you and continue to despite how hard he knows everything’s been.

“that’s okay,” he smiles softly, stopping the circles on your hand to intertwine your fingers. “i’m gonna be here as long as you need me, okay?”

you look up to meet his gaze and feel a tear slip down your cheek, a cry bubbling in your throat that you so desperately wanna let out.

but you also don’t wanna make san any more sad tonight, biting down on your lip as you nod your head before leaning on his shoulder.

you don’t see the smile that crosses his face or hear the content sigh that leaves him, his hand in yours and presence enough to lull you into a dreamless sleep.

“you have nothing to be sorry for,” he assures you quietly, looking over your face as he wipes at your cheeks. you meet his gaze and your eyes stay locked on one another, his thumb gentle and soft across your skin.

“did you do good on your test?” you squeak out after a few moments of silence, a smile breaking out across his face.

“of course i did, we studied all night, didn’t we?” he teases, referring to just last night when you helped him with index cards and read them all to him twice before promptly passing out on his chest.

a blush crosses your face as you look down in embarrassment, a sweet high pitched laugh bubbling out of him.

“it’s okay, don’t be embarrassed. your drool only ruined a few of them.”

“i don’t drool,” you mutter, a small smile on san’s face as he tightens his hold on you in his lap.

“did you eat yet?”

you shake your head as indistinguishable mumble leaves your mouth, curling yourself into his chest more as his warmth and comforting scent envelop you.

his lips brush against your hair in a small smile, quietly asking what you wanna eat even though he knows you’re gonna say you don’t care.

“whatever you want,” you mutter against him, the exhaustion of waking up at 5 am and the draining meeting with your lawyer catching up to you.

and san knows on days like these that chinese food and watching reruns of old cartoons is usually the thing you need to feel a little bit better.

pretend that just for a few hours, everything is okay and there’s nothing more pressing than spending the night together in what always turns into having a sleepover.

because just as you found it difficult to live in that house you once shared with jungkook, san finds it difficult to go back to that block every night.

stay just a few houses away from where he’s reminded of how you were treated while he was just a few feet away.

watching as the backyard once full of flowers becomes dull and colorless and every window reminds him of what was truly going on behind the walls of that house.

it’s one of the reasons why staying with you just makes sense. that and the fact that leaving you always proves to be the hardest part of the night together.

you with a pout and sad eyes quietly whining for him to stay and him being completely powerless as he throws himself down next to you and wraps his arms around your waist.

he’s not surprised when the same thing happens tonight, your eyes drooping and body slacking against him before he quietly asks if he should get going. you look up at him tiredly, eyebrows pulled together and one cheek red from you leaning on his chest in a way that makes him hold back a smirk.

“no,” you say quietly, your eyes roaming his face before you quickly realize he might want to leave you. the thought rips a pang of hurt through your chest but you can’t help but feel that might be the case.

you ripped him away from his test and cried on him all night. why would he wanna stay with you?

“unless you want to. i-i don’t wanna force you to stay here if you don’t-”

“of course i want to,” san responds, taking your face in his hands gently and allowing his thumb to run along your soft skin. “i was just checking.”

because he also never wants to overstep. make you feel too overwhelmed or smothered since if it were up to him, he’d never leave your side again.

his words and touch send relief through you, the panic and fear that attempted to break through quickly dying it. everything about him makes it so easy to be calm and comforted, a smile making it’s way on your face as you nod.

you place your head back on his chest, sighing contently when you feel his arm wrap around your shoulder a few moments later. you stare at the tv blankly, not sure how long you’re lost in thought about the conversation at the lawyer’s office.

“but a personal statement, if you feel comfortable, would probably guarantee the harshest sentence.”

could you really do that though? strip yourself to the most vulnerable degree and proclaim to a courtroom full of people how weak and defenseless you were for five years? how the man who’s gonna be seated just a few feet away over you had that much power over you?

would you feel better looking jungkook in the face and telling him that you’re gonna be strong and come out okay? that he won’t be able to hurt you anymore and will rot behind a cell for what he’s done?

or would you it make you feel worse? seeing him again and the blankness behind his eyes. the pity and sorrowful looks on the judge and court officers when your voice shakes and eyes brim with tears as you recall your old life.

you’re not even sure if san is awake at this point, his arm heavy around you and breaths even under your head but you can’t seem to stop your tired self from speaking.

“my lawyer suggested i make a personal statement.”

san doesn’t stutter under you, the only sign of him being awake when he hums lowly and gently pulls away from you. the bed dips next to you when he lays on his side, your eyes meeting just as he reaches out to smooth out a messy strand of hair.

“yeah?” he mumbles lowly, his soft eyes roaming your face. “how do you feel about that?”

the question, despite the serious tension in leaves in the air, makes you smile softly, remembering when your lawyer recommended counseling, you thought back to san waiting in the car and felt as if you already had all the support you needed.

he has the most patience and kindness of anyone you’ve ever met before and you can’t imagine trusting someone as much as trust him. have someone else hear you this vulnerable and genuine, see you cry and feel all the emotions that come with rebuilding your life after being a victim of domestic violence.

“i don’t know if i can do it.”

the words make san frown, holding himself up on his elbow as he looks over your face with concern. he can tell you’re tired, eyes hazy and drooping but he also can tell your mind’s been preoccupied.

more so than usual.

“i...i don’t know if i could do it with him there.”

“he’s not gonna hurt you anymore,” san reminds you gently, his hand creeping down in between your bodies to take ahold of yours. it’s soft and small and warm and everything about it makes you feel safe.

“i-i know. but...just him being there. watching me and hearing me say what he’s done when i know he has no remorse. and then telling more people how i let it go on for so long and-”

“you didn’t let anything go on for too long. it wasn’t your fault. y/n.”

tears burn your eyes as a lump forms in your throat, hearing those words from almost everyone in your life but still not having the ability to grasp it.

it feels like your fault, it feels like you’ve allowed yourself to be treated in a way you knew was wrong for far too long.

because now look at you. trying to rebuild your life but being panicked when the wind howls just a little too loudly outside.

you take a few deep calming breaks and swallow as you look at him, eyes hazy and glossy and threatening to close shut; you’re so tired but it’s like your brain never stops going these days.

“she said...it’d guarantee the harshest sentence. but shouldn’t the evidence be enough? the tapes and the witnesses? why- why do i have to keep going through this?” you whisper, voice shaky and tears building as you look at him. the sight alone makes san stomach sink, rolling his tongue between his lips anxiously.

“i just want it to be over. i don’t wanna keep recounting what happened over and over and over again. i... it’s so hard, san. it’s so hard and i feel like i can’t do it anym-”

your words break off as a quiet whimper leaves your mouth, crumbling against san’s body when he pulls you forward and wraps his arms around you. your head falls in the crook of his neck as his hand rests on the back of your head, breathing slowly and evenly as quiet hums leave his mouth.

“I know, baby,” san mumbles, his lips against your head as he presses a kiss to your hair. “you don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do, okay? no one can make you do anything.”

"you're hurting me, jungkook," your broken voice tells him, the cracks and pain behind it familiar to even your own ears.

you don't know how many times you've heard yourself like this. so desperate and defeated.

"i wish i didn't have to, babydoll," he says lowly, "but you never listen. you make me do this."

and you don’t even think about if you’re gonna regret it at the time. not use your own voice and speak up in front of the courtroom about what the man on trial did.

you can only think about his eyes watching you, your friends hearing your voice quiver and shake, the judge maybe not taking your words into account. it all seems too much right now, the crushing weight of anxiety and fear that’s making you feel too weak to do that.

“you made it this far. and it’s almost all over, okay?” san reassures, his hand stroking your hair as he tries to calm your cries. “if you wanna do it, i’ll be right there next to you. we’ll all be there for you and you’ll be safe the whole time. but if you don’t, that’s okay too. you don’t have to and everything will still be okay.”

and because it’s like the blonde just knows everything when it comes to you, everything is okay - or as okay as things can be under these circumstances.

your lawyer didn’t bat an eye when you told her you weren’t sure if you could do a personal statement, her hand on your shoulder as she gently tells you that it’s okay. that the harshest sentence would probably still be given, considering the unusual amount of evidence in a case like this.

you watched jungkook get taken out of court with a one year sentence, thrashing in handcuffs and cursing at you while you gripped san’s hand tightly.

you had foolishly thought watching that was gonna somehow heal you immediately.

no longer make you afraid or flinch at the smallest of sounds or movements, make you feel like now you can take san’s words to heart and feel worthy of the love he showered you with.

but it was with that love, you started to grow too dependent. let it consume you in a whole new way that made you feel like without san, you couldn’t breathe.

at first, he didn’t know what had triggered the episodes that followed three months after the trial.

it had seemed as if you were making a lot of progress over the past few months, truly happy and smiley without an ounce of fear in your eyes that had always seemed to linger.

you were working hard at the bakery, becoming closer with the regulars and even finding it easier to talk with them. they found you comforting and sweet, always greeting them with a warm smile and remembering how many sugars they got with their morning coffee.

the same warm smile you gave san when he told you he was visiting his parents for his mom’s birthday one weekend, sending him off with a loaf of bread and an array of cookies.

“don’t eat them all,” you teased lightly, side-eyeing mingi who was one of your many regulars and could also take your advice as he shovels rainbow cookies in his mouth.

“i won’t,” san smiles gently, looking in mingi’s direction and holding back a laugh upon seeing the boy.

he was probably the next closest person you came to trust since you all got to know each other, a soft spot for him ever since the moment he deemed sunflowers ‘sunnies’ during the darker times.

mingi was the happiness and innocence you think you must have had once. finding the good in everything and being happy just because the sun was out and dessert was on the table.

“and neither should you,” san chastises the younger boy, smacking him in the back of the head lightly. you smile softly at the exchange, holding back a snort as you clean off the table next to the bickering boys.

the arm around your waist a few moments later would’ve startled you had you not smelt san’s cologne, leaning into him and feeling grateful you’re the only three in the store right now.

you look over your shoulder and smile softly at him, heart stuttering at the look on his face. eyes full of such concern, you should know he’s about to ask you if you’re-

“are you gonna be okay tonight?”

he wasn’t ignorant of the fact, the same way you weren’t, that this is gonna be one the first nights you’ve spent alone in months.

not falling asleep to the gentle lull of his breathing or his arms around your waist. no one to be there if you wake up from a nightmare, where memories torment your body as you hear the shouts of your ex and feel as if your body is still being bruised.

san not being there to wake you with a gentle peck on the cheek before dragging you back to the warm bed when you try to get up for work.

but you have to be okay, right? you’ve been doing so good these past few weeks. and you’re an adult the same way he’s an adult, it’s ridiculous to think you guys would have to spend every night together.

“of course, silly” you poke him gently, smiling when his dimples poke out of his cheeks. “have fun with your parents. don’t worry about me.”

“i always worry about you,” he mumbles lowly, his lips ghosting over your hair as you push his chest lightly. he bites back a smile when he sees the blush on your cheeks, pulling away from him immediately so you can stick your tongue out at him.

and that night, it actually feels as if you’re okay.

you busy yourself by cleaning and cooking before passing out to the vampire diaries. your sleep is dreamless and calm, waking up to a good morning message from san consisting of a bare-faced, messy-haired selfie.

but a few days after his return is when he began to notice the little changes.

behaviors he thinks you weren’t even aware of that made his heart sink into his stomach; it reminded him so much of the first few weeks you were away from jungkook.

how despite the fear in your eyes, you clung to him because you knew he’d never hurt you. felt safe in his presence and sought him out when you were feeling uncomfortable or upset.

and he sees you’re back to the place right now, so obviously uneasy and upset despite the major progress you’ve been making.

it was like the second he came through the door, you had to be by his side. leaning your head on his shoulder as you watched your shows or grabbing his hand when he got up to go to the bathroom.

at first, he thought it was cute - your clinginess and obvious affection toward him. he thought it was sweet and it made him so happy, smiling softly and kissing the top of your head as he told you he’d be back in a minute.

but the more the weeks went on, the worse it was seeming to get.

you asking him after only a few hours of him at school when he was gonna be back. nightmares and bad memories haunting you when you’d fall asleep for naps in between your shift ending and his last class.

“baby... are you sure you’re okay these days?”

the words cause you to stop stirring the pasta in the pot, craning your neck to where san is sitting on the countertop.

he meets your gaze with a soft smile and extends his hand out to you, leaning down to press a kiss to your nose before pulling you up.

you squeal at the sensation, giggling quietly because there you two are just perched on the counter like two cats and no regard for the boiling pot of food beside you.

you giggle again when he places a kiss to your neck, tightening his hold around your waist.

he relishes in the sound of your laugh because it also seems like these days, he’s hasn’t heard it that much.

“i feel like i haven’t heard that in a while,” he mumbles against your neck, his lips lingering on your skin. he never wants to say the wrong thing with you or make you feel like you’re not doing good enough.

you pull back and look at him with a small pout, your fingers toying at the end of his shirt nervously.

“i...i’m okay though,” you tell him quietly, thinking it’s the truth even though you have felt off these days.

you didn’t know what it was though honestly. it’s felt like ever since san came back from his parents, you’ve needed him extra. clingy and needy and annoying in the sense that the poor man can’t even go away without you needing him.

and now he seems to know it, too.

maybe he doesn’t wanna do this anymore. maybe he didn’t sign up for months of you going back and forth, feeling great and confident one week and then back to being clingy and scared the next.

because you know it’s only a matter of time before two things happens: he gets sick of you and leaves or starts resenting you. doesn’t wanna waste his time with a battered woman when he could be wth fun and carefree college girls.

“have i been annoying?”

your blurted out question throws him off as much as it breaks his heart, immediately shaking his head as he cups your cheeks.

his lips fall into a pout and your eyes immediately fall to them, about to comment on it before he places a sweet, short peck on yours.

you two, despite your close and intimate relationship full of skin-ship, don’t kiss a lot. you can only count of one hand how many times san has kissed you on the lips, most of the time going for your cheek or head.

but you certainly don’t mind.

you think it’s good to take it slow, since everything else about your relationship is so intense. that’s why the times he does kiss you, you get filled with such a happy warm feeling that usually makes you feel better no matter what.

that’s how you know you’re not right. that suddenly, for some reason, you’re not okay again despite being so incredibly lucky that the people in you life now care about you.

they’re trying so hard to help you and it feels like you can’t repay them in any way.

“no, no, baby, not at all,” san says when he pulls back, his thumb gently rubbing your cheek. “i’m just concerned.”

the lump in your throat makes it feel like you can’t breathe, biting your lip harshly as you look up at the blonde.

“i love that you want me around,” he continues softly, his voice barely above a whisper as he looks down at you. “but i’m just...i also wanna make sure you’re okay.”

you nod your head as you take in his words, slightly calmed by them despite the way your mind is trying to tell you otherwise.

he loves that you want him around, he just said so. and he wouldn’t put up with you if he didn’t want to, right?

“i’m okay,” you assure sweetly, leaning into his touch just a little bit more. “i guess i just missed you.”

your cheeks flush at the soft, almost touched look that crosses san’s face, his lips falling into a pout as he tightens his hold on you.

“i missed you too.”

boiling liquid splashing onto the stove causes you both to look away, a squeal leaving your mouth as the foamy water overflows the pot.

“shit!” you squeal, jumping down from the counter to rush over and lower the heat. san watches from his spot with a small smile, chuckling lightly when you throw him a look.

“sorry,” he says sheepishly, a playful roll of your eyes causing him to jump down and hug you from behind.

he presses small kisses and laughs into the crook of your neck as you finish making the pasta, feeding him pieces from the pot to see if it’s cooked enough.

you eat on the couch and spend the rest of the night watching tv, a relatively calm and relaxed night that makes you feel much better than the past few days.

you think you just got so used to his presence, the comfort and warmth and light he provides by just being in your apartment and smiling at you.

you were scared by how attached you’d grown to him, depending on him in a way you think a person who has gone through what you’ve gone through shouldn’t.

but he’s so good and makes you feel loved. it’s such a different feeling than one you’ve ever experienced, after your family and friends and ex-boyfriend let you down time and time again.

you’ve never had someone like this before but you’ve also never tried to rebuild your life before. never had the chance to be your own person and make your own decisions - it’s something you’re still learning and that’s evident to everyone in your life.

but the next morning, a pleasant surprise in the form of mrs. kim comes bursting through the door and immediately lights your face with a smile; apart from san and mingi, she’s another person you’ve grown extremely close and fond of.

she’s the one who made everything possible, rebuilding your life with a new home and workplace. it’s why she always tries to push you further out of your comfort zone and into the real world with gentle prodding and much needed assurance.

she’s at the bakery for almost two hours before she pulls up a chair behind the register and gets that look in her eye you know all too well. it’s the look she gave you the day you accepted the apartment, insisting you take it and make it your own and to not even think about how to pay her back.

the look she gave you before the trial as she gave you strength, told you that you were strong and you were gonna get through this, with or without your personal statement.

and apparently it’s the look she gives you when she broaches the topic of you enrolling back in school.

“so what do you think?” she asks, tone carefree and excited like she’d been thinking about this for weeks. “is that something you’d wanna do?”

your immediate thought is yes. yes, yes, yes shout it from the rooftops yes. you miss school and learning and all the experiences that come with getting an education.

you once loved school and had so many aspirations but then your life apart. the prospect of an education or getting a job was dangled in your face as some sort of manipulation tactic.

that when jungkook went too far and left you especially bloody and bruised, he’d mentioned school like it was the answer to all of your problems as a couple. like that was his penance and would win him boyfriend of the year.

and mrs. kim must see the haunted look in your eye, replaying flashbacks and memories from how choices like that weren’t under your control for the longest time.

“listen to me, stop staying in there,” she says, flicking at your head and making you wince. “is that something you wanna do? yes or no?”

“yes but i-”

“but nothing,” the old lady says, wiping out an ipad the boys had been teaching her how to use for the past few weeks; the font is the biggest size you’ve ever seen and has a cat case on that almost makes you burst out laughing upon seeing.

“i was looking at the local school, it’s close and cheap but you could always get some financial aid, scholarships or even a loan,” she begins to tell you, eyes squinted and a wrinkle between her browns as she taps on the screen. “this shit is so hard, i’m still trying to learn. oh, great here it is, okay. look, they even have this major.”

you had mentioned once that you thought about a career in journalism to her, one night when you and her were making cookies in her house as the boys tended to her garden (because they were gardeners now, official, professional gardeners who only know how to plant sunflowers).

tears almost immediately fill in your eyes as you follow her pruny finger, licking over your lips so you don’t start sobbing.

she looks up at you after a few moments of silence and it’s promptly followed by her smacking your arm, a scoff leaving her mouth that makes you giggle.

“what are you crying about?”

the emotion clogged in your throat makes it hard to speak, attempting to talk through the strange contrast of tears and laughter bubbling in your throat.

“i just... i can’t believe you remember i told you that. it was so long ago.”

“what? you think because i’m old i don’t remember shit? i’m not a senile, y/n, jesus.”

a wet giggle leaves your mouth as you listen to her talk about the research she’s done, about how to pay and when you can start and her son’s experience at the local college.

it all makes you feel very hopeful, excited even, as you think about what once seemed impossible.

getting out in the world and pursuing a passion you as an individual had. making connections and just conversing with different people and seeing relationships form.

but all of those doubts and fears instilled in you don’t just go away.

you remember months back when you told san you were writing again, he was the one who recommended going back to school.

was so happy about it that his eyes were shining and dimples were out and you’d never seen someone more handsome.

but now that you guys are...kind of together, would his mind change? does he not want you talking to other people either now? will he think it’s silly or pointless, since you already have you job at the bakery?

you know deep down that that’s not the kind of person san is. you knew from the moment you met him and risked talking and smiling and laughing with him that he was good.

but that part of you still scared and broken from what you went through, the prospect of school and freedom dangled in your face as some sort of reward or apology, is scared he won’t approve.

and whether it’s unhealthy or not, all you want is san’s approval.

“c-can i ask you something?” you ask him later that night, both of you cuddled up on the couch.

a blanket’s thrown over your lap with san’s arm around your shoulder, your head now off his chest as you look up at him questioningly.

he immediately looks down at you with a soft, curious expression, running his hand through your hair as a small smile makes it’s way on his face.

“anything,” he hums lowly, already making your nervous body feel slightly more calm.

you have to try and always remember this is the boy who’s been by your side for months, with no complaints. who saved you from your life before this and only wants you to be safe and happy.

“i was talking to miss kim earlier today...” you begin, his interest already peeked because he thinks he might know where this is going; he was suspicious ever since the older woman asked him how to make the font larger on her ipad.

he sees the slight apprehension and fear in your eyes so he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your skin gently and giving you a small, encouraging nod.

you take a deep breath and try to shake the worry off, opening and closing your mouth before deciding to spit it out.

“we...were talking about me going back to school. and i...kind of thought that would be something good for me to do. i used to love school and learning and mrs kim. said there’s a lot of things i could do to pay for it and stuff, if i needed to...”

his chest hurts slightly watching you stammer over your words nervously, your eyes moving from him to the wall as you start to unconsciously hold his hand tighter.

“but if you don’t want me to or think it’s a stupid idea, i won’t. i just...wanted to make sure it was okay with you.”

you don’t see the way san sits there in contemplation as you’re too nervous and toying with the edge of the blanket, his face sympathetic but also a little surprised.

there’s a lot of things that san is still getting used to, the way you’re so vulnerable and attached to him (in a way he doesn’t mind at all).

but it’s like right now he’s seeing the severity of it, watching as a grown woman asks for his permission for something she absolutely doesn’t.

it makes tears burn the back of his eyes but he quickly pushes the sensation and desire away, his hand lifting your chin so you made his gaze head-on.

“y/n...you don’t need my permission to do anything. you... you know that, right?”

your eyebrows pull together almost in confusion that he didn’t immediately respond with a yes or no, head cocked to that side as you lick over your lips nervously.

he can’t help but think if this was a fault on his part. did he make you feel like you have to ask his permission or approval for things? did he maybe at any point make you feel scared or judged when he’s been doing his best to avoid that?

your harsh grip on his hand brings him back to the conclusion that, right now, this isn’t about him.

whether he did that or not, he has to make sure right now that you know you’re your own person and don’t need to run decisions by him or anyone else.

“baby, i think it’s great you wanna do that and will support whatever you wanna do. but you don’t have to ask for...my permission to do anything,” san tells you softly, his hand cupping your face as he presses a kiss to your head; the words ‘his permission’ even feel gross on his tongue.

“i’m happy if you’re happy. and if going to school will make you happy, i’m gonna be supportive 100%. you got it, love?”

you don’t even know why you’re surprised by san’s reaction but it still brings tears to your eyes, only being able to nod before you bury your face in his chest.

he bites back a smile at the feel of you against him, running his hand up your back to gently rest in your hair.

“you still wanna study journalism?” he mumbles against your hair and again, you can only nod so you don’t let out the whimper threatening to leave you mouth.

because it still shocks you day after day that everyone in your life now truly seems to care.

they remember things about you and want to see you smile, always remind you that you can do whatever you want and are slowly making you see that, maybe, you will be okay in the end.

it may not seem like a lot to someone who’s been lucky enough to have these things but, for you, it’s something you haven’t ever had before.

the ability to giggle and smile and spend your night with someone who you can see really, truly loves you. who wouldn’t do anything to hurt you and always has your best interests in mind.

that’s exactly why when you fall asleep, san can’t help but turn to look at your sleeping form. he runs his hand through your messy hair, moving a strand from your face and feeling his heart lurch at how peaceful and innocent you look.

he still can’t get the thoughts out of his heads from earlier, wondering if, maybe, this whole time, he hasn’t been doing the right thing.

maybe these past few months, you should’ve been rebuilding your life on your own. he shouldn’t have been here every, single step of the way to sooth and coddle and protect you.

it was something hongjoong said just a few weeks after you moved in and he nearly attacked the boy, asking how he could let you cry alone every night and feel lonely and scared in a new place?

but he also knows that hongjoong is more logical than him. he’s always let his emotions get to him, empathetic and caring almost to a fault.

and with you, he was always even more clouded.

now, though, he’s seeing that maybe hongjoong has a point. he’s seen it in the way you’ve become more clingy and dependent on him, something he loves and makes him feel warm but also knows, for you, is a part of feeling safe.

and as hard as it is for him to admit, he knows you need to feel safe without him. slowly rebuild your own sense of self and security without him always being there to wipe your tears or kiss your face.

but how is supposed to do that? he thinks, watching your sleeping face with a pained chest and burning eyes.

he’s about to get up to get a glass of water before he hears you whine, both his feet not even on the floor before even in your unconscious you can sense his departure.

“going to get water, love, i’ll be right back,” he mumbles in your ear, kissing the side of your head when you still and roll back over.

he gulps down the cool liquid before resting his head on the cold fridge, letting out a sigh as he realizes he may need to have another discussion with hongjoong.

even more so when he goes back into the room and sees your face, the slightest hint of discomfort in your pinched eyebrows and frowning lips.

you turn back over when he crawls in the bed again, your head on his chest and arm wrapping around his stomach.

he smiles upon hearing your sleepy voice call his name, dazed eyes staring up at him as he kisses the tip of your nose.

“hi, baby. i’m back.”

“i love you.”

the confession make his eyes widen and heart speed up, shocked into silence at those three, sudden words.

because while it’s obvious that’s how you both feel for each other, your sweet touches and words exchanged since the moment you met one another, you two haven’t ever uttered that sentence.

never put it out in the open and really discussed your feelings for one another.

but your eyes are shut and breaths turn even before you can even hear his softly spoken, “i love you,” in return.

and it’s because he loves you that he tells hongjoong about the thoughts he’s been having, wondering if he’s been doing the wrong thing the whole time and just making this transition harder for you.

“i think you’re trying to make it easier because you love her and don’t wanna see her hurt anymore.”

san’s eyes meet hongjoong’s across the dining room table at their house, a house san hasn’t slept or eaten at basically since you moved out; everyone knew where he was and they understood it completely but they also missed their friend’s presence.

“but...she does need to learn to be on her own, san. she’s never done that before and she’s always been dependent on someone. luckily you’re just...so fucking good that it wouldn’t be a problem. but even with her asking you if she could go to school...she’s not okay, yet, san. she needs to sort her shit out.”

“i don’t want her to be alone,” the blonde admits, voice tight and eyes threatening to water. “i don’t want her to think i’m leaving her.”

“you’re not leaving her alone. you’re just not gonna be attached at the hip 24/7. it’s normal for couples to be apart. you still live and pay rent here, you know. everyone misses you.”

the sound of bickering and plates crashing promptly comes from the kitchen, mingi’s harsh yelp of wooyoung’s name causing a commotion of bickering to break out.

hongjoong looks at san with a half pained, half amused expression, knowing that the dimpled boy will have to readjust to how loud and chaotic the house is all the time.

“you don’t have to do right now,” hongjoong says, wanting to finish the discussion before the boys notice san is here and lost their shit. “ease her into it. talk to her about it. see if she feels the same way. but let her know you just wanna help her, because i know you do, right?”

san’s nod is immediate and hongjoong mirrors him, his eyes quickly widening as he looks over the blonde’s broad shoulder.

he doesn’t even get to turn around before a slew of bodies bump into him, nearly knocking him onto the floor as six large, excited boys are jumping and squealing around him.

“san! you’re finally home!”

you’re nearly two months into your first semester of college by the time you’ve fully adjusted to your new schedule and pace of life.

classes monday, tuesday and thursdays mornings followed by your shift at the cafe during the afternoons. you miss your early morning regulars dearly and don’t know what to do with the 10+ memorized coffee orders still in your brain but you already love school so much.

you love learning and talking with your professors and meeting the many different people on campus. you’ve even found a small group of friends, two girls who sat next to you and immediately started up a conversation with you.

you were terffied and shy at first but eventually opened up, giggling and sharing your thoughts with them before class started - you even always made sure to be 10 minutes early so you could get in your chats with them.

unsurprisingly, san had been nothing but happy and supportive for the entire journey. helping you apply and become familiar with the campus while also assuring you everything was gonna work out.

your days were busy and packed with work and you truly loved it but night was still your favorite. when san would walk through the door with take out or you’d be greeted with the sight of him waiting for you on the couch.

it really felt as if your life was finally coming together, happy and at peace in a way you never felt before. it was like you finally had some sort of control over what happened to you, long gone the feeling of knots in your stomach or an uncontrollable shake in your hands.

but when you notice san is a little more quiet than usual today, you feel that foreign feeling make it’s way back into your body.

“is...everything okay?” you finally grow the confidence to ask, his hand absentmindley rubbing your leg that’s sprawled out on his lap.

you can tell the question throws him off by the way he snaps his head up to look at you, brows pulled together and his head cocked cutely to the side as his eyes roam your face.

“’course love, why do you ask?”

“i don’t know,” you hum softly, leaning the side of your head on the couch as you look at him. “i feel like you’re quiet today.”

“just thinking baby,” he tells you, tightening his hold on your leg before looking your way. “how were classes today?”

“good, i have to start my essay soon,” you tell him, something uneasy still pulling at your stomach; you’re not used to san being quiet or so lost in thought, usually the only time he’s silent is during a new episode of your shows.

“you’ll do great on it,” he says encouragingly, the hand on your leg gently calmingly rubbing your skin up and down. “you’re doing really good, you know that?”

happiness fills you at the thought of making san proud, a small smile on your face that causes one his own to cross his face. his dimples poke out and it reminds you so much of your first meeting, when the sun reflected off of him and you just knew there was something too pure and good about this man.

“thank you,” you smile softly, a faint blush on your cheeks that has san’s heart breaking in his chest even more.

he doesn’t wanna have this conversation tonight but he thinks it would be the best time. bring up maybe not staying over every night to create some more space for you while also allowing you to be more independent. learning how to fill your time with things other than him.

but you’re so happy tonight.

you’ve been so happy these past few months and he doesn’t wanna be the person to ruin that; it seems, though, you can see something behind his eyes and in his demeanor already, your body wiggling closer to him as your gaze shifts nervously.

“are you sure you’re okay?”

he lets out a sigh and you can’t help the way your stomach drops, watching carefully as his face turns contemplative and torn. like he wants to say something but isn’t sure if you’re gonna be able to handle it.

and that alone is scaring the shit out of you.

the silence is probably only fifteen seconds but it feels like hours, your eyes staring wide and heart starting to race as you look at him; you don’t know what you did but you had to have done something, right? he wouldn’t just act like this out of nowhere.

“did i...do something wrong?” you ask meekly, that feeling of fear and panic you haven’t felt in almost a year creeping back. you almost forgot how debilitating this feeling is, fully consuming your body until you feel like you’re about to completely breakdown and crumble.

the fear and concern on your face immediately makes him frown, shaking his head adamantly as he pulls you closer to him.

“no, no, no, y/n, of course not,” he assures softly, his lips brushing against your head.

you feel his calming breaths in your hair, like he already knows from the slight waver in your voice and look on your face that you’re getting worked up and anxious.

the few moments of silence should make you more anxious but you can only focus on his breathing and the warmth from his body against you, trying to stay calm as you remember that this is san and he would never do or say anything to hurt you.

“i’ve just been thinking about some things and i wanna talk to you about it,” san says, breaking the silence and immediately making your stomach flip nervously. “it’s nothing bad, baby, i just... you know i always have your best interest in mind, right?”

you swallow the lump growing in your throat as you turn to look at him, the soft look in his eye making you happy as much as it makes you sad.

because while you love seeing it, how sweet and thoughtful and truly kind he is, you know it’s also there because he thinks you’re about to lose your shit. and you haven’t lost your shit in quite some time.

“i-i know...”

he takes your face in his hands when your eyes start to wander, the quiet hum leaving his mouth making you look up at him again. the look in his eyes truly stirs something in you, tears burning your eyes even though you’re not even sure why yet.

“and you know i’ll never, ever hurt you?”

you nod again, feeling panic deep within your chest at where this conversation seems to be going.

“so what i’m about to suggest, i need you to hear me out, okay?”

he waits until you nod, his stomach sinking at the glossed over look in your eyes before he daringly opens his mouth again.

tells you that he thinks you living on your own while you start a new chapter of your life will be a good thing for you both. that learning to be independent and on your own will help you immensely in this new part of your life.

“you’ve been doing so good, y/n, and i’m so proud of you. you’ve started school and you work full time and you’re doing all the things you want to do. but we’re together all the time, baby, and i...i don’t know if that’s healthy, for either of us, you know?”

and you think to the average person, who hasn’t been abused and neglected and spent the last five years in normal, healthy circumstances, they would hear this and understand immediately.

that being alone and learning how to be on your own is a good, healthy thing that everyone needs to experience.

but all your brain can hear is he doesn’t wanna be with you anymore.

he’s tired of your brokenness and tired of looking after you all the time and needs some space from you; and while, you suppose, you can’t blame him, it doesn’t hurt you any less.

it doesn’t terrify you or upset you any less, even though you know his intentions are good; you can only feel unwanted and unworthy and like your time with someone so much better than you is up.

“is it...i just...do you not like it here? with me?”

did you not keep it clean enough? did you not cook enough, were the meals too frequently takeout and leftovers? you remember jungkook hated that, demanding the house be spotless and dinner be ready and homemade.

san would laugh at the question if this weren’t the current situation, a serious talk he’s been dreading having because he knows how you’re gonna take it at first.

but he loves being here and that’s the problem.

he would coddle you and love you and protect you for as long as you let him if it were up to him. but he knows that’s not what you need anymore, that you’re both not helping anyone if you continue to live your life in what became too comfortable and safe.

you deserve comfortable and safe but you also deserve to live happily and freely by yourself. and maybe that’s not his decision to make, he often thinks, but he certainly doesn’t think he’s helping you by enabling you to depend on him.

“baby, i love it here and i love you and i’ll never leave you until you tell me to,” san says, pressing a kiss to each cheek he prays tears don’t fall on in the next few minutes. “but i want you to be okay, love. i don’t want you to need me every night to sleep or think you need to ask my permission for things that are your choice.”

“is that- is that what this is about? that i asked you if i could go to school?” you ask meekly, the idea of talking back foreign but something you can’t control right now. “or is it because i’m in school?”

because maybe you’ve been too busy. maybe he feels like you neglected him. maybe he just wanted an out and this is it.

“of course it’s not because you’re in school,” san says, slight outrage in his voice as you even suggest that; he always tries to control his responses to you, knowing you’re dealing with years worth of manipulative behavior and maltreatment, but sometimes it does also get to him.

he was always supportive of your career and education, even when you were just friends and he admired you from afar.

“how could you think that?”

“because this is so random,” you squeak out, tears breaking through as the knot in your throat grows bigger. “i...i didn’t even know you were feeling this way and now you wanna stop seeing me.”

“i don’t wanna stop seeing you, y/n, when did i say that?” san asks, cocking his head to the side as he looks at you contemplatively.

“you said you don’t want to be together all the time...” you mutter out, feeling stupid and childish but not yet truly understanding what he means. you guys don’t fight at all and you’re always smiling and laughing together - isn’t it okay to be together all the time if good things like that are happening?

“y/n, i love you, of course i wanna still see you. but i just mean...living together the way we have these past months. you’ve never been alone. you’ve always depended on someone, right?”

you think back to your dysfunctional childhood, depending on alcoholic parents who never taught you how to fend for yourself until you fell into the arms of yet another abuser who you depended on even further.

restricted company and meals and communication, even restricted in what you could do outside the walls of your house.

“yes,” you nod, sniffling as you wipe at a stray tear on your cheek. “but they’ve only ever hurt me. you never do.”

that fact makes san’s chest pang with hurt, his own eyes burning with tears now as he thinks about how much pain you’ve endured.

“i know, baby, and i never will. but i think this’ll be good for us. good for you, mostly, that’s always my mian concern.”

but you start to wonder how this could possibly be good the second the front door closes a few hours later, leaving you alone in your apartment that now feels far too cold and far too dark and far too empty.

his lack of presence is noticable immediately and it doesn’t take long for panic and sadness and all that existential dread you once felt so deeply start to come on.

he doesn’t want you, nobody wants you, and the only people who did want you hurt you.

it’s a mantra you repeat in your head as you cry silently, splashing your face with cold water after your puffy eyes can’t take it anymore. and when you get a good look at yourself in the mirror, tear-stained and blotchy and a big fucking mess, you can’t help but see that same girl who was trapped in that house with jungkook.

weak and afraid and horribly incapable of doing anything right. so similiar to the current state you’re in now, sinking down on the bathroom floor and crying into your hands again.

this could be about san leaving, you know it has something to do with it, but you’re also crying because you now see just how badly you’re still effected by everything.

you could be distracted by school and work and san but there’s still so much under the surface that you haven’t come to terms with.

so much so to the point that even san had to step in and do something about it, him still seeing signs that you’re not okay despite how much everyone in your life is trying with you.

and it makes you feel bad that you have so many supportive, lovely people in your life but still can’t find it in you to feel okay. to not depend on one singlar blonde man to make you feel happy or act as if without him, you’re gonna break.

because you can see he’s tired of it. if he wasn’t, he wouldn’t have-

“y/n?”

his voice coupled with his fist hitting the door causes you to jump, at first thinking it’s a bittersweet trick your deluded little mind is playing on you. but then he knocks again, his sweet murmur of “y/n, please open the door,” causing you to cry out again.

hongjoong told him not to go, that he’d barely been home for an hour before he was already itching to rush back to you.

but he felt uneasy leaving the way he did in the first place, and then even more so when you didn’t answer his three messages and two facetime calls; he hated thinking that you were crying alone or feeling upset.

and it’s heartbreakingly evident when you reach up to open the door, curled up on the floor in tears, that that’s exactly how you feel.

“baby, no,” san hums lowly, immediately dropping to the floor so he can gather you in his lap.

it’s so much like the scene when you ran there after the final incident with jungkook, when you collapsed on the floor and finally told somebody about what you’d been going through.

what happened?" he asks desperately, voice strained and wavering.

but you can only shake your head and cry. cry for how long you've been dealing with this alone and how you feel trapped and how if you don't tell someone tonight.

"he's gonna kill me," you sob out as you shake your head frantically now, "i-i he's gonna kill me," is all you can repeat through ragged breaths.

san can only act on instinct, sitting down cross-legged and holding his arms out slightly before you crash into him. he shakily inhales when your head rests on his shoulder, sobs muffled by his shirt as he feels tears promptly soak through the material.

but he can only sit there, hand on the back of your head as he rocks you soothingly in his lap back and forth.

he listens to your sobs with a broken heart, tears stinging his own eyes because he had suspected something was going on for months and just sat here and did nothing. and now here you are, broken and bruised and in fear for your life.

"i can't go back there," you cry out, "i-he's gonna-"

"no one is gonna hurt you, anymore," he mumbles lowly in your ear, "i'm not gonna let that happen."

“you’re- you’re gonna leave me,” you whimper into his shirt, the only sound in your bathroom for the past few minuets your crying and his soothing hums. “you’re not gonna wanna deal with me anymore and leave and then i’ll really be alone and i’m so-”

“i’m not going anywhere. i’m not gonna let that happen,” he mumbles in your ear, his arms wrapped tightly around you as he presses his lips to your head. he rocks you back and forth so similarly to that night, his hand running up and down your back as he tries to get you to calm down.

“we’re gonna get you help. real help. and we’ll all be here for you whenever you need us. you’re gonna be okay, my love.”

one year later:

you look back at the breakdown in your bathroom and are always surprised that you don’t feel embarrassed.

you think that was the moment when you finally realized how much you’d gone through and how much you really had to sort through. that you could distract yourself all you want and depend on san as much as you felt you needed but you still had things to work through.

it took you about four therapist consultations to find the right one, eventually finding a sweet older woman who reminded you so much of your boss at the cafe. she listened to you and encouraged you and helped you find so much strength within yourself, you regret not taking your lawyer’s advice sooner about seeing a professional.

you still had bad days, of course, but now you’ve learned how to properly cope with them. cope with the stressors of everyday life, like the shouting of voices and the slamming of doors and san not being by your side 24/7.

and san, little to your surprise, had done the right thing in saying you needed to learn to be independent.

it scared you at first, living alone and being alone with your thoughts and memories that tried to haunt you every chance they got. but now your life is so full of happy ones that it makes everything a little bit easier; you now love the freedom of living alone and have come to enjoy the peaceful silences of your apartment.

you now have so many things to laugh and feel happy about, like mingi and seonghwa’s obsession with gardening (even though they’ve moved on to vegetables now and have yet to combat the battle with squirrels eating their tomatoes).

you have school and classes and friends that you made, making straight a’s while also balancing time with your study group, the boys and mrs. kim and your official boyfriend san.

there are still some days when you wake up and feel a sinking feeling in your stomach that you think might be there forever, a certain smell or certain pain richoetting through your body that will remind you of what you went through and survived.

but you know that you’ll be able to get through it, not only because you’re strong enough now but because you still have san to lean on - the boy in question currently with his arms wrapped tight around your waist and snoring down your neck.

you can’t help the small smile on your face as you turn in his hold, your finger reaching out to trace the contours of his face.

the warm, overwhelming feeling in your chest should scare you but it makes you feel even more happy and content with life, shutting your eyes immediately when his brown eyes meet yours.

his loud chuckle fills the room before he lips attack your neck, quiet giggles leaving your mouth that only spur the blonde on more.

“i saw that,” he mumbles playfully, smiling against your skin as your giggles get louder. “good morning, baby.”

you pull back and smile at the boy staring down at you lovingly, the late-morning sun beaming through your window reminding you so much of the first time you saw him.

heard his sweet, friendly voice that you immediately trusted and probably fell in love with right there.

"those are coming out really nice!" you hear a voice say from the yard next door.

you shoot your head to the side to see a young man standing there, probably about your age, eyes kind and dimples poking out of his cheeks as he holds an overflowing white garbage bag.

your lips quirk up ever so slightly, probably being mistaken for your mouth twitching before you give him a tiny bow.

"thank you."

tag list: @mochibabycakes @atinyarmyx1 @middle-of-a-wonshua-sandwich @minbinwhore @chrryhwa @chogiout @marksflvr @bunbaebae @markleeyeosang @inkigayeo @nlost21 @toffee-hwa

#the italic flashbacks always get messed up on mobile!!!#srry hope its not confusing #san #san angst #san fluff #ateez #ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #san scenarios #ateez imagines #san imagines

810 notes · View notes

strawberries-and-creame · 3 years

Note

What about if Dave's s/o found out how Bro treat's him and one day kicks his ass and moves Dave into their place?

It isn’t exactly as requested but I hope you enjoy anyways ^_^

You had began to notice the different sizes of bruises on his limbs. When he would stretch and his shirt would rise, you could see reddened and purplish bruises to ones that were faded into yellow, showing previous ones.

You’d see how tired he appeared when you visited. The bags that were dark and heavy despite his dark, slight opaque shades did little to hide it from others that were close to him.

It wasn’t until Dave had seemed more stressed out that usual that you’d decided to ask him.

“Dave, what’s bothering you?”

He posture stiffened. “What do you mean?”

You swished around the remaining apple juice in your bottle. “You seemed stressed lately?” You said in almost suggestion. Trying to pry but not out right say it. “You also look tired, more so than usual.”

Dave squirmed slightly in his seat next to you. “Nah babe, I’m cool. Just haven’t been sleeping well, that’s all.” He dismissed you with a wave of his hand and very forced smile. “How about we play some video games?”

You frowned. “Dave…”

____________

It what been a few days since that evening, and now your worry had rose to unhealthy amounts.

Dave had avoided you since that night, and barely replied to texts that you sent.

You looked down to your phone and with an firm grunt you texted him quickly.

‘Dave I’m coming over. Now.’

Your pace to the high rise apartment was quick. Your thoughts heavy as you keyed in the code to the buildings entrance.

He’s never like this. He’s usually the one to text first and constantly at that. Your chats could go into the early hours of the morning sometimes.

The elevator seemed to be moving in half time while your sneakered foot tapped impatiently.

Why was he avoiding you? Did you do something wrong? Maybe you should have left well enough alone.

You pressed the button to his floor.

“Please be okay…” you whispered to yourself, the doors opening and you almost sprinted out them before they could open all the way.

You came to Dave’s apartment door and saw that it was unlocked. You decided to knock nonetheless before entering.

“Hello? Dave…? Mr.Strider? It’s Y/N.”

There was not a single person besides you in the entire apartment. Well you plus the countless puppets of Dave’s brother but you tried not to make eye contact.

You could hear something coming from the floor above you. Rats? It would have to be big freaking ones. Metal? Rats with knives? No that couldn’t be what it was.

You decided to investigate since Dave was no where to be found inside his home. You walked through his room, trying your best to not trip over the various cables on the ground that was hooked up to sound equipment and turntable.

You came to his open window and heard the sound of metal clashing and quickened footsteps coming from above more clearly.

“It’s a stretch but maybe they’re on the roof?” You said to yourself, already sticking a leg out the window to the staircase platform inches from the window sill.

As you made your ascent you stomach felt uneasy. Maybe as if you wouldn’t like what you found when you made it to the final step.

A familiar voice piqued your attention.

“Can’t abscond, bro.”

Dave’s older brother? Can’t abscond from what exactly?

You lifted yourself up to the final step and had to fight the gasp from escaping your lips at the scene you found.

Dave was panting heavily, in one hand one of the swords he kept in his room, the other was grabbing onto his side. His face was twisted in a combination of pain, fear, and anger.

He looked like he was about to fall right where he stood, his knees struggling to hold his weight above them. Which said just how bad he was seeing as how he didn’t weigh much at all.

Dave gave a loud grunt, forcing himself to a battle stance before running at his Bro with a strained battle cry. He pivoted the sword to face his older sibling head on, but was grabbed by his shirt and flung the way he had came.

His body skidded across the cement floor and came to a stop against one of the many air conditioner units for the building.

Bro walked to him slowly, his own sword still drawn at his side. His presence menacing to both Dave and yourself.

Dave seemed to shrink in on himself, arms already out in front of him. He brought them where they covered his head and his torso. “Bro… please. Can’t we stop for today?”

Before you could tell your body differently, it was already moving. Your legs spurred your body forward, sprinting towards the brothers.

Your lungs filled with air as you shouted almost helplessly. “Stop!! Mr. Strider, please!”

The two looked towards you almost instantly. One being stoic behind his shades, the other alarmed.

“Y/N what are you doing her-“ Your boyfriend began, his tone making your chest tighten with just how scared it sounded.

Before he could finish you brought yourself between the two, placing your arms around him from behind you, your front facing his brother. Your chest was heaving from sprinting and the anxiety that welded up inside you from the intense stare Bro was giving you.

“Mr. Strider, I’m I mean-“ you tried but cursed your tongues insolence. “Please, I don’t know what’s going on but can’t you stop for… today? Dave seems really hurt right now, and it’s getting late.”

You felt Dave’s body tense from his place behind you. You moved your hand to where it held one of his and gave a firm squeeze.

“Please Mr. Strider?” You pleaded, looking into the dark chasm of his sunglasses. If you had to beg, so be it. If it meant that Dave wasn’t getting the shit beat out of him, you would grovel.

Bro paused for a moment before sheathing his blade back into its holder. “It is late.” He replied in a low tone, placing Lil Cal on his shoulders. “We’ll go ahead and call it a day, Dave. Try to be with it next time.” He said, his eyes making their sight on the male behind you.

He then turned toward you. “Y/N, feel free and make yourself at home. I take it you’re here to see him?”

How could he act like he didn’t just beat the ever loving fuck out of his little brother?

You nodded stiffly, trying to not show the shakiness through your body. “Yes.”

He gave a small nod and without another word he jumped off the side of the building, but you could hear him on the staircase below.

A few moments passed in silence before you felt your knees give out and you landed on them with a soft sound. Your heart was still racing and you could hear it in your ears with every quicken breath you took.

Your turned on your knees and face Dave who would not make eye contact with you.

His normal stoic expression was plastered back on his beaten up face. His cheek a gnarly colored purple with his lip busted and blood pooling from the wound.

You didn’t even want to think about the injuries that you couldn’t see.

Words escaped you. What could you possible say to make everything that just happened seem like it didn’t? He got beaten to a pulp, by his own guardian. The person that was supposed to protect him.

You could see Dave’s eyes moving to steal a glance at you through the sun hitting his glasses. The red pools of his orbs made tour e/c ones start to water.

They screamed helpless behind the still expression he wore almost all the time. You knew that this instilled stoicism wasn’t healthy. It wasn’t often that he showed emotions, he had gone so long without them from such a young age, it was hard for him to break down those learned behaviors.

You’d do it for him, you’d let down your walls first.

Your eyes began to flood with tears, making their color shimmer against the sun that was now setting beside you.

“Y/N?” He questioned softly, a frown forming on his face. He raised a hand to try and place on yours. “H-Hey it’s okay, this stuff is normal at my house. Bro beat my ass, that’s all there is to it. I keep telling him I don’t want to be a hero, but he just doesn’t listen sometimes. I just wasn’t with it today.”

You instead flung your arms around him, wrapping him up in a tight embrace. You let out a sob. “This isn’t normal! None… none of this is normal.”

You squeezed him to your harder. You hoped and prayed that he could feel just how much you loved and cared for him with just how snug your arms were keeping him pressed against you.

“Getting the shit beat out of you isn’t normal! Having bruises all over your body isn’t normal! No one should have to worry about getting a beat down by their own family.”

You felt his body stiffen against you again, his hands pulling at your shirt from behind in fistfuls.

You pushed his head to your shoulder, locking your fingers in his soft locks. Your chest wavered as sobs erupted from your core for him. Tears streaked down your cheeks and you cried.

Dave’s shoulders sagged and he dropped his head on your shoulder and let you cry. Silently he too wove his fingers through your hair and comfortably stroked through them.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t here. I’m sorry that you’re not safe. I’m sorry that I couldn’t protect you.” You chanted in between sobs into his shoulder.

You felt Dave let out a strained laugh, the bone crushing hug causing him some discomfort. “I’ll be okay. I promise, Y/N.”

Eventually you and him descended back into his room, and you helped bandage him up from his bed. A little uneven with some of the bandages, but it made you feel better that he was patched up.

He would be okay, because you decided from then on, that you would protect him. You would be his knight in shining armor if that’s what it took for him to be safe.

#dave x reader #homestuck imagines #homestuck x reader #Dave

50 notes · View notes

aspoonofsugar · 3 years

Text

The “One” Divided Into “Two”

Hello anons, hello friend,

these asks can be answered together!

First of all:

Hello! I just want to say that I love your RWBY metas! So I'm wondering, have you ever done metas about Emerald and Mercury?

Thank you! And yes, I have written a little bit about Mercury and Emerald here. I would also recommend this wonderful meta by @hamliet because it has an interesting Mercury theory in it.

Now. this answer is gonna mix some analysis with speculation because Emerald and Mercury’s story must still enter its climax. Once it does and we are given a specific interpretative key I will be happy to write more metas on them!

I’ll start with this:

Those two are so out of place in Salem's faction and the last look they share made me doubt that Mercury is rotten to the core and more of a kid who didnt know what he's in for. Since Em has switched sides, is it possible that Merc might follow? I really like him, so I'm hoping that he won't go down like Watts.

In my opinion, yes and here is why.

CHILDREN LOST IN A NARRATIVE

1) Emerald and Mercury have been child-coded since their first appearance:

Roman: Oh, look! She sent the kids again! This is turning out just like the divorce!

2) Both have received a save the cat moment early on:

Emerald: It's almost sad.

Mercury: Emerald, get up, we need to go. (...) Emerald!

Both child-coding and save the cat moments are often used to make characters more sympathetic and this applies to both Emerald and Mercury, even more so than Cinder.

This is why, for example, the major death they are directly involved in:

turns out to be a temporary one.

As a side note, I like thinking of Emerald and Mercury as the Cat and the Fox in Penny’s story since they act as false friends to the main cast, betray them and cause Penny’s first death. Moreover, in the novel, both characters end up suffering consequences for their life-styles. The two murder kids are the same:

At the same time, details about Emerald and Mercury’s backgrounds and motivations are given to the viewers pretty early on:

We are shown Cinder recruiting both and these scenes clearly paint them as two vulnerable kids that get manipulated and groomed:

Raven: Two children you’ve tricked into following you.

Emerald is presented as a scaredy cat and Cinder wins her over by promising the bare minumum aka some security and basic care.

Mercury is given even less aka a narrative to keep himself together:

Cinder: And you're his son. We saw your fight from the treeline. He's taught you well.

Mercury: Guess so.

Cinder: What's your name?

Mercury: Mercury.

Cinder: Mercury... Tell me, are you anything like your father?

Mercury: All my life, my father trained me to be a killer, an assassin like him. And then moments after I killed him, you two showed up looking for someone with my exact skills. Just felt like it was meant to be.

Cinder praises his abilities and frames his trauma as something that makes him strong, not broken. And Mercury has completely embraced this narrative since then.

In short, Emerald and Mercury are framed as two kids lost in an illusory narrative Cinder has crafted. That said, they are also characters in a proper narrative and they are given sympathetic backgrounds and positive qualities that hint they can be better than they currently are.

In particular, Emerald should overcome her emotional dependence on others to make the right thing:

In both volume 3 and volume 8 she is shown the destruction of a city. However, the first time she puts distance between herself and others’ pain, as symbolically conveyed by her looking from above. In volume 8, though, she is shown the same pain up close and she can’t ignore it anymore. This is why the others drag Emerald towards the people crying and light invades the screen when she finally meets the sheltered crew. She is forced to face an uncomfortable truth she wants to ignore.

Mercury should instead let himself depend on others more. He should open up to others and fight for his one positive bond:

Mercury: Back off, freak.

Which leads us to:

What do you like most about Emerald and Mercury's relationship and bond as it is explored in RWBY?

EMERCURY: COMPLEMENTARITY

Emerald and Mercury’s bond being a key one is conveyed both symbolically and in terms of their respective abilities.

When it comes to their abilities, I have written about it in the meta linked above:

In short, Emerald mostly relies on her semblance, while Mercury mostly relies on his legs and fighting prowess.

This detail adds to the idea that Emerald and Mercury have been acting as a unit and have been complementing each other. Emerald acts as the “soul” and Mercury as the “body”.

The soul is one’s personal essence (like the semblance). It is where (once again) wishes reside. The body is what protects the soul and is animated by instincts and self-survival.

They complement each other. This complementarity is shown in Emerald and Mercury’s fights.

In the Vytal festival, Mercury takes on both Coco and Yatsuhashi for a short while, so that Emerald can size her chance to fight Coco at her own terms (and she wins by using her semblance).

In the Battle of Heaven, Emerald uses her semblance to help Mercury fight and, in a sense, she compensates for his lack of one:

The human soul is about wishes, but also duties:

Penny: I feel like I wish I could do both the things I need to do and the things I want to do. Is that normal?

One must accept their feelings, but also struggle with them:

Winter: But yes Penny, we must still acknowledge our personal feelings, wrestle with them. It ensures us that we’re on the right path. It’s what makes us human.

And must do the right thing out of their own free will:

Winter: Penny. The general is making hard choices so we don’t have to.

This is Emerald’s personal struggle. She must let go of her feelings for Cinder and fight her own fear in order to do the right thing.

The human body lets people feel both others’ warmth:

And others’ cruelty:

However, Mercury refuses to feel both. He refuses to truly process his own trauma and pushes his feelings of care for Emerald away:

As far as their symbolism goes, they are linked in at least three different ways.

1) One of the attributes of the Roman god Mercury is that he is the protector of thieves and Emerald’s surname capitalized means thief. What is more:

Mercury: Ooh, Emerald! Master thief! Please don't take my money! I barely have enough to get by!

2) Mercury/Hermes is also the god of alchemy and the one who wrote the Emerald Tablet aka a tablet with the truth of alchemy on it. You, @hamliet, have written a meta on it, so I won’t add more.

3) According to at least some traditions, emerald is the gemstone associated with the planet Mercury.

So, it is clear the two characters are meant to be important in each other’s arcs.

Let’s now look at Emerald and Mercury’s bond, as it is explored through their interactions.

Mercury clearly cares about Emerald and gets along well with her. She is the only person he shows vulnerability to.

This is what their scene in Lost is about:

Emerald: Why did you come with us, the night Cinder and I found you?

Mercury: Why are you asking--

Emerald: Just answer the question.

Emerald is trying to open herself up and wants Mercury to open up too. This is why she gets annoyed when Mercury gives her a superficial answer. Still, in that conversation, Mercury is genuinelly trying to answer Emerald’s feelings:

Mercury: I'm sorry you didn't have a mommy that loved you, but I had a father who hated me! He never went easy on me! Every day of training was a beating. And when I unlocked my Semblance, he stole it with his! "This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!" He told me I could have it back when I was strong. So I got strong, but I never got it back! I've had to work harder than anyone to get where I am. You may not like it here without Cinder, but I think I'm right where I'm supposed to be!

Here, Mercury is telling Emerald details of his past he would not be sharing if he did not trust her. He can’t let himself be completely vulnerable, though, so he discloses them by lashing out at Emerald. He mixes violence with authentic vulnerability and also with care:

Mercury: Cinder doesn't care about you! She doesn't care about either of us!

He has seen how self-destructive Emerald can get when it comes to Cinder:

And he is trying to have Emerald move on from her obsession.

However, Mercury’s small steps towards opening up and caring for another person are constantly challenged:

Tyrian: Oh yes, the world is mean, and I'm a big, bad man now just like the others.

Mercury: How long have you been standing there?!

The moment he opens up to Emerald, Tyrian appears to threathen and mock him.

Mercury’s positive development lies in accepting his own feelings of pain and in sharing them with others, so that he can be helped. However, the environment he is in goes in the way of it:

Emerald: Mercury, I wanted to...

Here, Emerald is trying to either apologize to Mercury for their fight or to at least check out on him. Still, Mercury is not listening to her because he is too frightened by what Salem is doing.

Mercury’s current struggle is conveyed in a nutshell by the glance he gives to his left in Midnight:

Is he looking at Emerald out of concern?

Or at Salem out of caution?

It is not clear. Still, what is sure is that Mercury should focus on Emerald, but Salem goes in the way. He deep down wants to care about others, but he is too scared to do so:

Tyrian: All you ever learned was pain and violence, and now you're too afraid to leave it. Such a tragedy.

At the same time, Mercury is for Emerald what she has been looking for in Cinder:

Emerald: We don't need him! Everything was going fine!

She initially refuses him, but it is clear that with time Mercury becomes the thing most similar to a family Emerald has:

She has been so fixated on Cinder and on how she can be worthy of Cinder’s love that she has missed how much Mercury has tried to protect her all along.

This is why Hazel is important for Emerald’s development:

Hazel: No more Gretchens, boy.

His sacrifice is about breaking his personal cycle of pain. His story starts with Gretchen dying when she was only a girl and it ends with him preventing another girl’s death. At the same time, he also helps breaking the cyle of abuse between Emerald and Cinder.

Emerald is told the truth about her relationship with Cinder by Mercury. Moreover, it seems something finally clicks for her here:

She observes Salem’s manipulation of Cinder and understands Cinder has been manipulating her in the same way.

However, it is thanks to Hazel’s sacrifice that Emerald sees what a genuine parental bond should be like. It should be about the parent protecting the child:

Hazel: What Gretchen would have done. And that starts with getting you away from here. Both of you.

And not the child protecting the parent:

Emerald: I know I can’t beat you. But I can fill that thing full of holes before you take me down.

It should be about the parent caring for the child unconditionally:

Hazel: Go.

And not about the child working hard to gain a parent’s love:

Cinder: You… You brought me back here. We failed.

Emerald: Cinder, you were hurt. I was just trying to help.

At the same time, Hazel’s death has taught Emerald the pain of losing a loved one:

And has forced Emerald to stand on her own two legs:

Oscar: I've seen what you can do, Emerald. However this fight ends, we could really use someone like you.

She can’t be protected forever, but she should start protecting others. She is powerful enough to do so and she must accept this responsibility.

I think Emerald could be key to Mercury's redemption

I think so too. Emerald saving Mercury is the perfect objective for her personal arc. It forces her to act as the savior instead of the one being saved.

Moreover, Mercury told her the truth about herself:

Mercury: You're in denial.

So Emerald might do the same for Mercury. This would also fit with her being the Emerald Tablet. The Tablet is written by Mercury to convey the truth to the world. Here, it might very well be the inverse: the Emerald Tablet might convey the truth to Mercury.

In general, Mercury and Tyrian’s foiling has to pay off, just like Emerald and Hazel’s:

The set-up is there for Tyrian and Mercury’s subplot to be about breaking cycles as well. Mercury’s story is about a child left alone with his abuser. Nobody comes to save him, so Mercury is forced to save himself by killing Marcus. Still, this only leads to him being stuck in the idea he is nothing, but an extension of his father. Right now, the cycle is repeating, but it is possible this time things will go differently because there is at least one person who cares about him.

Not only that, but (and this is nothing, but a baseless theory) even Qrow (aka a character who has unfinished business with Tyrian) might be a thematic fit to help Mercury:

Mercury: Bad hair, used a scythe, and smelled like my dad after a long day. It was him.

After all, Mercury himself draws a comparison between Qrow and his father since they are both alcoholic. However, Qrow has started a journey of rehabilitation for the sake of his nieces and their friends.

Qrow sees himself as bad for others and fundamentally unlucky because of his background and his semblance. So, his third fight with Tyrian being about saving a kid, who, in a sense, is even less lucky than him and has no semblance might be thematically fitting.

Despite it all, Qrow found a family and a place to belong and he might help Mercury find his (Emerald) as well.

SEMBLANCE OF THE SELF

Got no gun But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

Delusion I'll steal til your blind and defeat you from inside your mind

Emerald’s best weapon is her semblance, while Mercury’s semblance was stolen, so he could become a weapon.

This difference symbolizes their respective reactions to abuse.

Emerald uses her illusions as a coping mechanism.

This mechanism is well conveyed in CEM’s fight against Amber:

On one hand, Emerald creates a child version of herself who is well dressed and owns a bike. It is a rich version of Emerald because she must think that is the kind of child others would stop by to help. She does not believe she is likable or lovable. This is why she makes an illusory alter-ego, which is both true (she deep down is a crying child) and false (she is a street rat with nothing).

In general, this is Emerald’s way to approach others:

Emerald: Just left the stadium after your amazing fight! You guys were awesome!

Ren: Because she's scared. Just like us..

Emerald: Or maybe because I know how to get out of here. Anybody coming?

She either fakes an overly friendly demeanor or acts tougher than she is. In any case, she hides her true self.

On the other hand, Emerald is symbolically trapping herself in an illusion together with Amber. Amber can’t see the dangerous thief in front of her, but Emerald too can’t see the generous woman who is offering food to a crying child:

Cinder: Follow me, and you’ll never be hungry again.

Cinder promises Emerald food and love and this lie makes the girl unable to see the genuine article when it is right there.

So Emerald tricks both others and herself. This is how she survives abuse.

This is why she keeps believing in Cinder while she is gone:

Emerald: You’re here! I knew you’d co--

And this is why symbolically her semblance grows stronger in an abusive environment:

Emerald: I’ve been working on my Semblance. I can help. I won’t tell anybody.

Salem: You really have been honing that Semblance of yours.

After all, this is when Emerald gets a “power-up”:

She has just lost Cinder and finds herself stuck with Salem. Her reaction is to have a breakdown and to project an illusion in the minds of nine people, when she had previously stated she could only do one/two minds at most.

Mercury weaponizes his trauma.

This is why his legs are Mercury’s true weapon, while Talaria is there just to cover and embellish the pain and ugliness under it.

Mercury fights Amber with only its bare legs because symbolically his trauma is still fresh and he has yet to work out a structured coping mechanism to it. His meeting with Cinder is the first step in this construction that evolves in the following months and is still evolving:

In CEM’s fight against Amber, Mercury uses his unfeeling legs to whitstand the violence of the elements:

Fire

Earth and Water

Air

He goes through the whole cycle without feeling any pain simply because his trauma has made him unfeeling:

I'm the one That was ripped from the earth and exposed to the sun

Marcus has literally turned Mercury into Iron:

But I gleam like a blade and I'm harder than iron

Still, the point is that mercury as a metal is not as hard as iron, but (in the alchemical scale of metals) is way more refined and closer to gold. Mercury can be better than his father, but his way to survive abuse is to repress himself.

This is why his semblance was stolen by his abuser. It is because abuse has taken away Mercury’s personhood.

So, both Emerald and Mercury face abuse by masking or repressing themselves. The difference is a matter of degree. Mercury can suppress his emotions and needs more, while Emerald can’t.

Theirs is a foiling about feeling too much to the point of self-harm and of feeling too little to the point of negation.

So, Emerald must struggle with her feelings not to be controlled by them, while Mercury must aknowledge them.

Emerald’s Hallucinations is a Semblance of The Self because it hides both Emerald herself and the truth.

This is interesting because, as stated above, the Emerald Tablet should convey the truth about alchemy. However, Emerald’s environment has turned her into an inversion of herself:

I'm the one Who rose out of filth and was loved by no-one

She is a gemstone, but is currently covered in dirt. She needs to polish herself, so she can shine and fit better in her allusion.

Mercury’s stolen semblance is a Semblance of The Self because it is linked to Mercury’s self-expression, which he must claim back.

Until then, he is bound to be stuck in an abusive cycle as nothing, but a weapon.

In general, there is some symbolism around Mercury which needs unpacking:

Mercury quoting Marcus:"This is a crutch!" "This makes you weak!"

Firstly, he has clearly interiorized what his father told him here. He refuses the idea of weakness and crutches to the point that his prosthetics, which are literal crutches get turned into weapons and even covered by other weapons. However, this refusal of crutches means Mercury can’t heal. After all, crutches, bandages and treatment are necessary to become healthy once again.

Secondly, there is this:

I'll run circles round ya, I can touch the sky

The God Mercury’s main attribute is that he can overcome any boundary. He can go wherever he wants in no time. However, Mercury is the opposite because no matter what, he can’t leave his abusive environment. This has to do once again with his father’s abuse which culminated with Marcus taking Mercury’s legs. This is symbolically why Mercury is trapped.

Like for Emerald, Mercury’s arc should be about growing into his allusion, so that he can finally be free.

Still, how to turn Emerald and Mercury in the positive versions of their allusions? The answer has to do with this question:

(I think Emerald could be key to) maybe Cinder's (redemption) too

I’M THE ONE

Emerald and Mercury are two parts of the individual (body and soul) and two parts of a Huntsman (semblance and weapon):

Ren: A common philosophy is that a warrior's Semblance is a part of who they are.

Ruby: Just weapons? They're an extension of ourselves! They're a part of us! Oh, they're so cool.

Together they make a unit. Together they make Cinder. They are two sides of her trauma, her two sins:

Emerald: Actually, I was wondering, do you have any copies of "The Thief and The Butcher"?

And the wounds behind those sins.

This is why Cinder takes them in, but also why she abuses them.

She uses them as weapons:

In CEM’s fight against Amber she lets them go in first and has them take the majority of Amber’s hits.

Not only that, but she uses them as “red herrings” she hides behind.

She acts as if Amber’s blow takes her out of the fight, while Amber focuses on Mercury who resists her attack:

She has Emerald display her semblance at full force, so that the girl becomes Amber’s first target:

She makes her own illusion where Emerald and Mercury are her smokescreen.

However, her two disciples are not just things she can use as she pleases. They are two people who depend on her:

Mercury: You mean--

Emerald: She's alive?

They are literally two kids she takes in framing their relationship as parental/hierarchical hence she is responsible for them.

However, she fails them and leaves them in a dangerous environment. This is why they both leave her out of self-survival.

Narratively, Emerald and Mercury are two kids that must grow up. Right now, they are in some kind of adolescent phase. They have started their emancipation from their “parent”, but they have still to grow until they’ll be able to truly face Cinder.

It will probably be in this confrontation that they will affirm their growth. Right now, Cinder does not need to be coddled, but to be called out. Both Neo and Watts try to, but Cinder ignores them and retaliates against them. She needs a call out she can’t ignore and Emerald and Mercury are too rooted in who she deep down is for her to be unaffected by them.

At the same time, it would mark Mercury and Emerald’s first step into adulthood. Only then they can stop being a “half” and can truly become “one”, so a whole person.

#rwby #rwby meta #emercury #emerald sustrai #mercury black #cinder fall #my meta #asksfullofsugar #anonymous #hamliet #murder kids #rwby murder kids

85 notes · View notes

blissfulparker · 4 years

Text

Flashing lights→prince!tom

Parings→prince!tom x princess!reader

Summary→when two kingdoms come together to form allies, A marriage between you and tom will hold that bond. you and tom have to learn to love each other. In front of cameras and media it’s love at first sight. alone it’s scarce touch’s and innocent looks scared to know each other.

Warnings→arranged marriage, small talks of smut, slowburn

Wc→3.5k

A/n→ this was requested from someone who donated. If you donate to a blm campaign I will write a request for you! I am still doing this and a few other blogs are too! Every penny and every signature counts. Your voice counts💗 also there are going to be two parts and this is just part one!!!

England's golden boy. That's what he was. The oldest prince that was still young, his white smile mixed with the well kept curls was what made him so charming and made the girls swoon. His sweet soul and his availability when it came to relationships was what kept the media on top of him.

Although everything changed in a matter of weeks, a marriage to form allies caused tom to shut his gates and only focus on you. There were no more late bar nights, no more public sporting events, it was now only you and his new marriage. The public only got a glismpe of the new relationship that blossomed over night but was staged to be love at first sight months ago.

“That's good,” you smiled at the maid who poured your tea. “Thank you.” she nods her head before locking you back in your room.

You didn't say much when you arrived. The only words you spoke with Tom was with the media around to catch them. Tom's arms snaked around your waist acting as if hes known you for a lifetime. Sweet cheek kisses and held hands to Tell the cameras whatever they wanted to hear to keep himself high and you higher. Other than those small moments in front of millions of cameras and people, you did not say a word to tom, Nor did you see him that much.

Your fingers wrap around the cup as you bring the warm mug to your face. You knew your duties, breakfast at nine, lunch at one, attend any meetings in between, dinner at seven where you must sit with tom, and the rest of the night is yours but you must be in your room by ten. It is recommended that you and tom get to know each other in those nightly hours but the two of you rarely did. You are not allowed to leave the castle unless Tom is by your side because if he isnt that suggests to the media that you two have split. Any activities outside of the kingdom must be done with tom or a member of the royal family. The rules were strict but easy to follow if you didnt care about breaking them.

You felt bad sometimes about not making much of an effort with Tom, you'd been here for only a week but a week felt like a month and the days felt like weeks. Tom was almost always busy as well, too busy to love his own wife.

A knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts, you set the cup down as you flatten out your skirt walking over to the door. Assuming it's a maid, it's not. Tom stands there in a polo shirt and khakis, its his golfing outfit and in about twenty minutes he would go out with his brothers to golf. The course was private and it was always reserved for them and a few friends. You didnt know much about tom but you knew he loved golf, everyone who kept up with the royal family knew that. Maybe all you thought you knew about tom personally, the public knew it as well.

“Tom?” you look at him confused as to why hes shown up at your door at a time like this.

“Hey.” his hands fiddle with each other as it was his thing he did when nervous, he would mess with his hands or rub his thighs. It was cute, he was cute.

“Hi.” you smile and he looks past you to see if anyone was in your room.

“I thought id ask you to golf today. We should get to know each other more. I mean you're technically my wife. well.. going to be anyways.” he speaks in a stutter, you make him nervous. Your eyes bat softly before looking down at the glove he wore. You dont golf, you didn't play much sports before coming over here so why would you make a fool of yourself in front of the prince.

“I dont golf,” you get nervous, you clear your throat not trying to be rude but you can already feel yourself shrinking more and more. “Sorry.” you start to shut your door but he stops it with his foot.

“Wait!” he stops you. Speaking a bit louder and his voice carries through the empty hallway. “You dont have to know to golf, honestly most people who dont golf just steal the cart.” he lets out a soft laugh. A laugh he gives to the cameras, the laugh he gives at dinner, the laugh he gives to everyone as he welcomes them into his home. It was a sweet, nervous, genuine laugh that he gave to everyone. “But i can show you. I just thought because we dont have much time together and were going to get married in three months--” marriage. The wedding in three months that was so far but so close. Mostly for the public, the knot was technically already official but the wedding would make the public swoon. Make everyone know you two are official.

“Right.” you cut him off with your own thoughts. You look outside into the garden and in a distance there is a golf course. The land looking different from your own home and making you miss the kingdom you originally came from. Your eyes water slightly at the idea of being home. The idea of laying your head on your mothers lap as you two watched movies before being told off to bed. The beautiful thought of working in the garden with your family. All of that traded for marriage and becoming united.

“Like I said.” you don't mean to be harsh, you feel a tear getting ready to fall from your eye. You sniff and look down. “I dont golf.” you shut the door and lock it up behind. Your eyes trail down to the wedding ring tom had given to you, the ring to show everyone who you now were. Who you now loved. You could learn to love each other but you had not tried yet.

Tom stood on the other side of the door scared. The mahogany wood stares at him back and he wants to each out for the door, try again, not mess up but he knows you need to be alone. He knows you miss home and dont know him more than a prince. He knew you only knew prince tom and he was going to change that.

It had been two days since your encounter with tom. You had only seen him at breakfast, lunch, dinner and outside your window when he golfed. Maybe you were too harsh with him. You had spent nights standing by your bed contemplating to go to his room, apologize for what you said. Try again, try to let him know that you only miss home, you could never hate him.

Now moonlight came through your window. With every twist and turn, checking your phone to see the time had reached another minute of less sleep. It was one of the nights where you missed home a little extra, you wanted to be back in your own bed but you were here.

With a sigh you rub your face pulling yourself out of bed. You weren’t supposed to be up around the house when no one else was, you didn’t understand why but it was among the list of rules you had to follow.

It would be the first rule you had broken, opening your door with a creek, you tip-toe down the hall and down the stairs to make some tea. Hoping that will work hard enough to put you to sleep for the night and leave your worries for the morning.

You weren’t the only one who couldn’t sleep though, Tom had the same motive you did. Although he snuck out more often so he knew all the secrets of the house.

He stood shirtless in the kitchen, pulling out a mug to get ready for some tea. You pause in your steps as you see him standing. He's facing away from you, his back muscles seem to flex everytime he reaches for something, it only causes your stare to worsen.

“Fuck!” He almost shouts as he turns to be frightened by you. You jump by the sound of his voice and run your hands over your face.

“I’m sorry!” You whisper and he places his hand over his heart. He takes a deep breath before he speaks, regains his composer before starting the conversation.

“Can’t sleep?” He asked you with a cock of an eyebrow. You nod and he turns to reach for a second mug, knowing already what you wanted.

“Yeah,” you sigh. “I mean no! No I can’t sleep.” You correct yourself and he chuckles a little getting the kettle ready.

“You’re missing home.” He tells you and you walk over to him. You’re close to him, closest you’ve been to him.

“ it’s obvious?” You ask and he shakes his head.

“No,” he tells you looking over with his soft brown eyes. “But I think if I was torn from my own home and forced to marry someone random I would be petrified too.” He tells you assembling the two tea bags. You watch as he does so, how the tea bags look so small I’m his hands, how he does everything so delicately.

“Well...I’m not as scared as I was when I found out but this is all still new to me. The kingdom I mean, your kingdom.” You lean against the counter as he passes the tea to you. You smile as a thank you and he turns off the stove.

“Our kingdom.” He reminds you and you nod still having to get used to it being for the both of you.

“Right.” You take a sip and he walks over to where you entered. Noticing you not following him he turns around, his eyes soft and his face pleading for you to come with.

“You coming?” He asked and you didn’t have much of a choice. Stay here in silence or get to know Tom, your future husband. You push yourself off the counter and follow, you follow him out of the kitchen and into the large library. The library that most days seemed empty, almost no one came in here unless it was for their own studies.

Tom leaves you by the couch to start the fire pit. It’s always cold on London nights, you seemed to learn that quickly. How cold the air gets, you always bundle up with extra blankets and sweatshirts but Tom seems to be perfectly content.

He takes a seat on the floor next to the fireplace. Reaching over to the small love couch and grabbing a blanket and a pillow for himself he looks at you with sweet eyes.

“Do you want to sit?” He glances up. “Or will you stand all night.” Teasing seemed to be his sense of humor, his sense of humor that was harmless.

You take a seat across from him. He shares some of his blanket with you before finding his gaze stuck in the fire. The room was silent, there were no birds like the morning, there was no chatter of guests like the day, the golf club meeting the ball was nowhere to be heard. The only sound was silence and the void was to be filled by your voices.

“When I was a little boy, I used to sneak down here all the time.” He starts and your eyes are now on him. His face lit by the fire causes you to see every freckle, mole, and wrinkle on his face. “The funny part was I hated reading. It’s just that this room seems to be unoccupied most of the time so I enjoy the bliss of getting away.” He takes a sip of the tea, you watch his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows the warm liquid. You hear the mug clink with the wooden floor as he leans back watching the fire unfold.

“It’s nice, I like it.” Were the only words your mind allowed you to speak. A small smirk rises to his face but then falls, he likes the sound of your voice.

“I read a lot as a little girl,” you tell him. You’ve caught his attention. “I was all about fairy tales and my mother would read them to me all the time. I loved the written idea about princesses but that’s what they do with them, they write all the good things and leave out the bad. They never tell what happens once the people look away and the crown comes off.” You tap your fingers against your mug. He understands, he didn’t read fairy tales nor did his mother read them. But he knew that in public he was the ideal prince, behind closed doors he wished so badly for a Normal life.

He moves, leans over to touch your face, move the eyelash that bothered him. His larger fingers come into touch with your delicate skin, it was almost like he didn’t touch you at all but the short eyelash rested on his pointer finger.

“Are you going to make a wish?” He asks holding it out for you to blow. You look at him then back at the lash. You’ve never been this close to him before, so close and so alone.

You close your eyes and blow gently, when you open the eyelash is gone. Toms got a cheeky smile before letting his hand fall.

“What did you wish for?” He asked. You cracked your own smile and shook your head.

“If I told you it wouldn’t come true.” You laugh a little and he looks at you more seriously.

“Oh come on! We’re going to be married in three months. Can you at least give me an insight of what you wished for?” He lets out a little laugh and you shake your head.

“No Holland, that’s not how it works.” You tell him and he leans in again and looks in your eyes. You’ve never seen such a goofy side to him, you don’t even think anyone has seen it.

“What are you doing?” You giggle a little as he has this face of seriousness. He’s staring deep into your eyes mostly just to get you to smile.

“Oh, I was trying to see what you wished for.” He jokes before moving back and accidentally knocking his mug over. You quickly lean in to grab it but don’t realize you’re leaning on Tom. Legs now intertwined, shoulders touching and faces only inches apart. You quickly try to clean up the spill but Tom can’t take his eyes off of you. He picks up the spoon and places it back in the cup before you realize how close you are to him.

His hand drops from the mug and trails up your shoulder, he touches every mole, every scar, every bump of the skin he may feel, he stops right as he gets to the strap of your shirt. He takes it into his hand but he doesn’t let it fall.

You watch as he does so, watch as he plays with the strap and maybe you’re so desperate, tired, needy for him to do something or for anyone to do something.

“Tom,” you whisper and he Looks up. His lips only inches away from your face as you speak. You’ve got his attention and now you’re lost for words. He leans in first, you do as well and feel his lips brush against yours. Anyone could walk in, anyone awake could walk in on you two right now.

His right hand supports your lower back, it wants to trail up but to be respectful it stays in place. His lips ghost yours before you pull back in a more teasing way. He only chases them, it shows how desperate he is for them.

“I’ve never kissed a boy before.” You admit. It was semi-true, in secondary school you played spin the bottle, the times you landed on someone it was just a small peck. Nothing more nothing less. You had never fully kissed someone, locked lips, pulled them close, eyes closed and begging for more. You never had that.

“It’s okay,” he leans closer. “If you’re uncomfortable we can—“ he starts and you quickly cut him off.

“I’m not uncomfortable.” You told him and he presses his lips together looking down at yours. “I promise.”

“Do you want to kiss me?” His lips now gently ghost over your cheek, it’s almost like he’s directly speaking into your cheek.

You nod but that’s not enough.

“I won’t do anything until you speak.” He reminds you and you say in the shakiest voice you have, a soft ‘yes’ leaves your lips.

His hand now on your face, he pulls your lips into his, they fall against his. They’re warm from the tea, chapped from the lack of sleep, but feel so good molded against yours. He’s gentle but let’s you know how much he loves it. Your hands hold onto his shoulders, touching the bare skin and feeling the heat as the kiss escalates. You had never felt so good in your life before, no one had made you ever feel this good. Even if it was just one, desperate kiss.

He pulls back, you catch your breath and want to lean in for more but he moves back. The sun is coming up, you didn’t realize how much time was spent down here, what felt like minutes was truly hours. His thumb rubs your cheek, reaches up to feel the bag under your eye before he plants a soft kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“I should get you to bed, it would be irresponsible of a prince to let his princess lack sleep.” He told you. His cheeky sarcasm comes back as he stands up from his spot. He holds his hand out for you to take and it’s almost like what happened never did. Like it was just in the fairytales you read.

Cups and blankets left in your spot as you get started to leave the library. The fire still burns and it was obvious the two of you were down here but like Tom said, no one ever went down there.

He holds you close as he sneaks you back into your room, when the sun comes up the maids start to come out, get things ready for the day before everyone wakes up. For Tom, waiting until the last minute to sneak back to his room was always a part of the no sleeping fun.

“Prince tom? Princess (y/n)?” A voice stops the two of you. Tom turns around seeing a maid, a maid with towels walking down the hall. He always treated them with kindness, he knew all their names, all their stories, he knew everything about them.

“Eve!” He smiles and she gives a strange look. “The princess couldn’t sleep! I offered her a midnight stroll that clearly was longer than expected. We’re going back to our rooms now to sleep, don’t be worried if she is late for breakfast, the princess needs her sleep.” He tells the woman and she nods. He gives her a soft smile before making it back to your room.

“Thank you.” You tell him when he opens the door for you, not only for the door but for everything he’s done for you tonight.

You turn around, place a soft kiss on his cheek before holding onto the door handle.

“Goodnight Tom.” You smile softly. His cheeks rose red after you kissed just the one. He bites down on his lower lip and nods.

“Goodnight princess.” He watches you close the door before going back to his own room. He almost skips in joy as he goes back. The point of tea was to sleep, let his mind slip and fall back to sleep. Now his mind was racing, he wasn’t going to sleep, he would think about you and your lips, how sweet they were and how they were just like you.

That night in the library was only the start to something real, something the media and your families wouldn’t understand.

Permanent Taglist: @parkershoodie @dahliaspidey @parkersvibes @itssss-a-bean @ppkrtingle @myfinalwords @bocauhl @tinyplanet-explorers @sincerlyfan @softbaby-tom @awesomeblackcottontail @rosebeegraham @stormyholland @unicorn-princess-1999 @spideyyypeter @marshyrebelcloud @oh-epiphany @yeahimcrying @highlydisfunctional1 @disgustangg @pterstingle @quacksonhq @starlightparker @reblogsfics @tomsrebeleyebrow @dreamyyholland @imaginashawnns @alilpunkrock @peterspideysenses @lovely-valllll @lowkey-holland @hannaholland1811 @kthemarsian

#tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #prince!tom #imagine tom holland #tom holland fan fic #tom holland fanfiction #tom holland smut #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland fic

906 notes · View notes

elena-reina · 4 years

Text

Six o’ Clock - Draco Malfoy x Muggle Reader

Request: Hii! Can I please request a Draco x muggle/no-maj!fem!reader imagine where she moved to England from USA, & she happens to be close friends with the Weasleys, & one day when they take her to the Wizarding World, Draco & Y/n meet. While at first he wants to keep his snobby upfront (especially with her being a muggle), the more he sees of her (each time they bring her back), the more he feels drawn to her. They have a connection/spark & they both feel it. He asks her out on a date+holding hands💜 - kpopgirlbtssvt

Warnings: None

It was oddly quiet as Ron walked into the room you stayed sleeping. You were sleeping over at the Weasley’s house and normally there would always be some sort of loud noise going on, but not this time. He walked over to the small window above your bed and opened it letting a cool spring breeze flowing through with the birds chirping their afternoon hymn.

He looked at your sleeping figure and grabbed one of the pillows that fell off the side of the bed. Lifting it up ever so slightly, he smashed it straight down onto your head with as much force as a pillow could give.

“GET UP LAZY BONES!”

You violently sit up, breathing heavily and delusional. Looking around, you were still in your sleepy daze, not fully aware that you had just been woken up. Finally settling on a blurry-looking Ron, your rubbed your eyes.

“Ron,” you warned, still very sleepy, “If you ever wake me up like that again, I will personally throw you off the ledge of the tallest building.”

“Mum wants you to wake up and come downstairs to eat before we head off,” he smiled, placing the pillow back on the bed.

You yawned, scratching the side of your head. Swinging your legs over the bed, you stood up and stretched before turning back to Ron.

“Where’re we going?” you asked, rummaging through the clothes in your suitcase.

“We’re going to take you to the Diagon Alley,” he said proudfully sticking out his chest.

“Diagon Alley?” you questioned, picking out a cute spring dress and sandles.

“The Wizarding World,” he said in a duh tone, like you were supposed to know what it was called.

You had barely known about Witches and Wizards until about four or five years ago when you met Ron and his family when moving from America to the United Kingdom. You’ve always had a suspicion, but nothing was ever confirmed until you walked in on Mrs. Weasley washing dishes by waving her wand around.

That was a fun experience to witness.

You stood there, laying your clothes down on the bed and crossed your arms.

“Well,” you said, “Do you mind?” You motioned towards your clothes and pointed to the door. You weren’t going to change with him in the room. You were close but not that close.

Ron’s face began to heat up and red crawled all over his cheeks with realization. “O-Oh right, sorry,” he mumbled embarrassed and made a quick exit towards the door. You smiled, letting out a little laugh and got dressed before heading down the stairs and eating breakfast with the rest of the family.

After eating everyone stood at the fireplace huddling around it. Ron stood on the right side of you while Mrs. Weasley was on your left, huggin gyou and rubbing your shoulder. In her hands was a small pot filled with dust.

“Alright now, who’s going to go first?” she spoke sweetly.

“Y/N should go,” Ron chirped, smirking.

“No, no I think Ron should go, I don’t even know what we’re doing right now,” you said quickly in defense.

“Don’t worry dear. We’ll have Percy go first and demonstrate for you,” she said.

Percy stepped forward grabbing a handful of the dust in Mrs. Weasley’s hand before walking into the fireplace.

“Y/N sweetie, this will transport you to the place you want to go. All you have to do is grab a handfull of this Floo Powder,” she said motioning towards the powder,” And throw it down yelling very, very clearly Diagon Alley.”

You gulped nodding before looking back at Percy. He nodded at his mom and threw it down.

“Diagon Alley!” he shouted. Green flames engulfed him and soon enough his entire body was gone. Your eyes widened, you didn’t know if you were impressed or scared. Maybe a little bit of both.

“Wait, do we know if this is going to work with me?” you asked, “I’m not magical like you guys.”

They all laughed. Ron grabbed your hand and grabbed a fist full of the powder.

“You’re going to be doing it with Ron, sweetie. Don’t you worry,” she said holding out the pot. You placed your hand into it grabbing a fistfull and walked to the fireplace with Ron. The two of you stood side by side. You glaced up at Ron and back towards everyone else staring at you.

“Don’t let go of each others hands, and speak clearly. Both of you,” she warned.

You were really excited and had a huge grin on your face. Okay, it’s go time. You and Ron both threw the powder at the same time.

“Diagon Alley!” you two said in unison.

The last thing you remember seeing was green and soon you were transported into a busy street filled with other magical witches and wizards. You looked around in amazement.

“Woah,” you breathed out, letting go of Ron’s hand and wandered forward. Ron followed you, laughing at your amusement. “Is this where you go to school?”

He shook his head. “No, I go to school at Hogwarts. This is Diagon Alley.”

You looked at him dumbfounded.

“This is kind of like a mall?” he said questioning himself, “There’s an assortment of restaurants, shops, and other sights. It’s usually way less busy than this when school is in session, but for now I am just going to show you around.”

You nodded in agreement as people walked past the two of you. Some would glance your way curious and others would straight on ignore you. Not that you would notice, perhaps it was your bubbly personality that kept catching the attentino of others. You looked a like a little kid running wild in a candy shop for the first time.

“Right here is Olivander’s,” Ron spoke motioning towards one of the buildings, “This is where you pick out your first wand.”

“Oooh, can I get one?” you giggled, lightly pushing his shoulder. He smiled, rolling his eyes.

“It wouldn’t work for you, Y/N, you’re a muggle,” he said.

“I know, I’m just teasing, Ron,” you sighed, before another building caught your attention. “What’s that?”

“That is-”

“RON!”

You two halted in your steps and turned around. Running towards him was a pretty curly-haired girl and a boy with circular glasses. They engulfed him in a hug one by one and then turned to face you.

“Hi there, I’m Hermione Granger, and this is Harry Potter,” Hermione said cheerfully holding out her hand. You gracefully took it, and Harry’s as well.

“Hi, I’m Y/N Y/LN.”

Harry looked at you curiously. “Your accent, it’s different. You’re not from around here are you?”

You shook your head. “She’s from America,” Ron said for you, almost sounding proud of it.

“America!” Hermione gasped, “You have to tell us about over there, what’s it like? What kind of schools do they have over there? What do they focus on teaching you? What house are you in? Oooh, what creatures-”

“She’s a muggle, Hermione,” Ron groaned, embarrassed from all the questions she was asking you. You laughed.

“Oh, what brings you here?” Harry spoke up.

“Just sight-seeing. Thought that I would-”

“Uh oh, Malfoy twelve o’ clock,” Hermione said cutting you off, looking past you.

You turned around to see what she was talking about. Walking your way was a tall boy with sleek white-blond hair, a pale complexion, and silver eyes. He was in a cleaned up black suit and looked rather handsome. Forgetting that you were standing next to Ron, your entire focus shifted onto the boy whom they called Malfoy. He stood confidently a foot away from the group, eyeing them all down before his eyes rested on you. He had a hard facial expression on his face.

“Scarhead, Mudblood, Weasle,” he spat and then looked at you, “What’re you, another Weasley or their pet.”

“Don’t bother with this one Y/N, he isn’t anyone of importance,” Harry spoke up, angrily looking at Malfoy.

“I’m Y/N Y/L/N, and you are?” you replied back with as much sass as him.

Draco was taken back by your accent, but intrigued. He was quickly able to discern that you weren’t from here.

“Draco Malfoy, a pure-blooded wizard of the highest taste, what’re you doing hanging out with them?” he sneered.

“I’ll just so have you know Malfoy that-”

“I wasn’t speaking to you,” Malfoy snapped cutting Hermione off, “Typical of you Mudbloods to bud into other peoples conversations. Learn some manners.”

Scoffing at his rudeness, you folded your arms across your chest. “These are my friends and I don’t like how you’re speaking to them. What’s a mudblood?” you asked turning to face Hermione who was giving Draco a death stare.

“It’s a magical person who has muggle parents,” she grumbled, “It’s very demeaning.”

“You don’t know what a Mudblood is? You must be one,” he spat, running his hand through his hair, smirking grudgingly.

“Actually, I’ll have you know that I am a muggle!” you said proudly like it was an achievement. Ron mentally face-palmed knowing that Draco was about to get a load of this.

“Y/N,” Ron groaned under his breath catching your attention. Confused, you looked back at Draco laughing hysterically, almost in a taunting way.

“Now this all makes sense. You ran out of friends haven’t you all, so you had to capture a random muggle from somewhere else to bring the fame back to your names,” he taunted, “Pitiful, all of you.”

“Let’s go,” Ron said grabbing onto your hand, ushering you away.

“Muggles don’t belong here!” Draco called out after you. You turned your neck to get one last look at him before being rushed around a corner.

The rest of the afternoon was fun, despite that small altercation you had earlier. Ron scolded you for telling Draco you were a muggle but you shrugged it off. It didn’t offend you to be called a muggle because that’s what you were. Why should you be ashamed of being who you are. You went back to the Weasley’s house after eating dinner and went straight to bed because you were exhausted.

The next morning you woke up and wanted to go back to Diagon Alley. You quietly walked downstairs and saw Ron cleaning his plate. You walked up to him and covered his eyes with your hands.

“Guess whoooo,” you lightly sang, standing on your tip toes.

“Grandma?” he gasped dramatically.

You rolled your eyes, removing your hands, and lightly punching him in the shoulder. He craned his neck smiling and returned to washing the plate.

“Can we go back to Diagon Alley?” you asked.

He rinsed his plate and put it to dry on the side. He turned to face you and eyed you. “Sure. Anything in particular you wanted to look for?”

“Well I just wanted to see what else was around, I enjoyed being there yesterday,” you smiled.

Ron agreed to go again and left to go let his Mrs. Weasley know that they will be going back. You did the same old routine of holding the Floo Powder and yelling Diagon Alley with him.

You were transported back and you looked around again amzed like it was the first time you had been. Ron chuckled beside you catching your attention.

“What’s so funny,” you asked, walking side by side.

“Your child-like amusement is funny to me,” he said, taking a turn to lead you down another part of Diagon Alley that you hadn’t been down before.

“What’s that?” you asked aloud pointing to one of the shops. He walked up to the window and looked at it.

“That’s the Firebolt. It’s one of the fastest Quidditch broomsticks.”

“A Quidditch broomstick?” you questioned.

“Yes, that’s what I said,” he confirmed again.

“No.. I know that, but what’s Quidditch?”

Ron laughed at you. You were really getting sick of all this laughter. How does he expect you to know any of this. You weren’t a witch. You didn’t grow up with this kind of lifestyle.

“Stop laughing at me,” you glared, “I don’t know what that is. What’s Quidditch?”

“It’s-”

“-It’s a sport we wizards play by scoring more points than your opponent. Unless you catch the golden snitch, then you automatically win.”

You turned and looked at who spoke over Ron and saw Draco standing right next to you. He wasn’t looking at you but was looking at the broom while was glaring at Draco. Not that he had paid any attention to him in the first place nor cared.

“So it’s like soccer?” you said, slightly turning to face him.

“Soccer?”

“Yeah, you score points by kicking a ball into your opponents goal, but... I don’t think we have anything like the golden snitch. What is that by the way?” you answered.

“Must be a muggle sport,” Draco scoffed, “The snitch is worth one-hundred and fifty points. The game can only end when the Snitch has been caught but only by the Seeker.”

“A Seeker?”

“Y/N, enough of the questions and lets go,” Ron groaned no longer wanting to be in the presence of Draco. He grabbed your hand and yanked you over to the side.

“Why do you keep talking to him,” he groaned, clearly annoyed.

What was his problem. It’s not like you were outright looking for him. All you did was ask questions.

“Ron, what’re you talking about. All I did was ask about Quidditch,” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. “It’s not like you were answering any of my questions in the first place.”

“I was about to until snakeface cut me off, you were encouraging him!” he exclaimed, walking ahead of you. You quickly tried to keep up with him.

“How was I encouraging him? Are you really getting upset with me right now, Ron? I haven’t done anything on purpose to make you mad at me!” you shouted back at him. He abruptly stopped, having you almost crashing into him.

“Lets go back home,” he grumbled. You opened your mouth to say something but stopped. You wanted to argue back, but you knew that it wasn’t going to go anywhere. Ron was all bent out of shape and anything you say would only make things worse. So you complied and went along with him.

For the rest of the day, you and Ron stayed away from each other. Not that it made any sense. You spent the rest of your time hanging out with Ginny and just girl talking.

Ron no longer accompanied you to Diagon Alley when you asked, so you hung with Ginny instead. However every time you returned, you inconspiculously ran into Draco everytime. It was becoming a frequent thing, and each time you ran into him, the more you two would talk. You had been going for weeks.

At this point you didn’t know if you were going to explore the Wizarding World or if you were going hoping to bump into Draco- which always happened.

At first Draco held up his snobby front but by the end of the day he would always forget all about it and his goofiness came out. And the best part about everything? Ginny didn’t mind. She didn’t have the same kind of resentment towards him like her brother or his friends did.

However there was one problem.

It was the next day after weeks of visiting. You ran into Ginny’s room where she was already dressed.

“Ginny!” you exclaimed pouncing onto her back.

“Y/N!” she exclaimed returning the same energy you had, giggling.

“Are you ready?” you chirped.

She brushed a knot out of her hair and placed her brush down. She turned to face you with a half smile.

“Y/N, I would love to accompany you, but I’ve made plans today,” she frowned. Your happy exterior faltered. Biting on the inside of your lip, you thought to yourself.

“Well that’s okay, Ginny. I appreciate you going out of your way to accompany all these weeks,” you said, taking her hands into yours and swinging them.

And then a bright idea popped into your head.

“I know that face,” she laughed, “What’re you thinking?”

You let go of her hands and started to pace the room. You did have an idea, but it was a tricky one. Was it worth even saying?

“What if,” you began as Ginny leaned in listening attentively, “I went by myself.”

She looked at you like you were crazy.

“I’m sorry, but what?”

“What if I went by myself to Diagon Alley,” you repeated.

“You’re absolutely mad Y/N,” she laughed.

“I’m serious!” you laughed with her, “I’ll take the powder and just go by myself.”

Ginny stopped laughing and looked at you seriously. “Y/N, I don’t know if the Floo powder will work on you. You’re not a witch.”

That’s what you were afraid of.

“Well, we don’t know that it won’t work. That’s why I can try?” you said more as a question.

Ginny didn’t immediately object it. That gave you a little hope.

“How’re you going to get back?” she said rubbing a hand over her face.

You hadn’t thought about that. You didn’t have an answer.

“I...,” you began while looking around the room as if it were going to give you an answer. Your eyes rested on a clock. “How about you pick me up?”

“I don’t know when I’ll be back today. It could be hours from now,” she said.

“Then I’ll wait for you. If I don’t magically find a way back by six o’ clock, then I’ll be waiting in front of Olivander’s Wand Shop. Deal?” you pleaded sticking out your hand.

“I don’t know,” she mumbled, scratching the back of her neck, “Mum would kill me if anything happened to you.”

“Nothings going to happen, I promise. So deal?” you tried again, batting your eyes. “Pretty pretty pleaaaase?”

She groaned and grabbed onto your hand shaking it. “Oh alright fine. Be at Olivander’s by 6 o’ clock sharp!”

You jumped up with glee, bouncing towards the door. Hopefully it works.

“And Y/N!” Ginny called.

You came to halt and turned around, eager to head towards the fireplace.

“Remember, it’s called Diagon Alley. Speak very clearly, if you don’t then I don’t know where you’ll end up and mum will kill me.”

“Got it! Diagon Alley!” you reassured her.

You’ve done this plenty of times. What could go wrong?

You ran to the fireplace and took a handfull of the Floo powder. Stepping inside you turned so that you faced the outside of the Weasley’s house. Taking a deep breath in you focused.

“Diagonally!” you shouted throwing the powder down. You were engulfed in green flames and began to spin very fast.

This felt different than all the other times where you held onto somebody’s hand and transported. This was way more nauseating making you almost feel sick to your stomach. Something hard knocked your elbow and you tucked it in tightly, still spinning and spinning. Finally coming to a stop, you fell, face forward, onto cold stone dizzy and you could’ve sworn bruised. You stood up and you appeared to be in a stone fireplace of what looked like a large, dimly lit wizard's shop but nothing seemed as bright and happy like it did before.

A glass case nearby held a withered hand on a cushion, a blood-stained pack of cards, and a staring glass eye. Evil-looking masks stared down from the walls, an assortment of human bones lay upon the counter, and rusty, spiked instruments hung from the ceiling. You turned your head too look at the dark, and even worse, narrow street through the dusty shop window. This was definitely not Diagon Alley.

Your heart rate picked up and you knew you had to get out of here. You began to walk towards the door when a hand was roughly slammed down onto your shoulder making you gasp and turn around.

“And just who might you be?” a creepy and wrinkly stooping man said eyeing you up and down. He smoothed his greasy hair back from his face.

“O-Oh, I’m just.. I’m not-”

“You’re not wearing robes, eh,” he said in his oily voice. “Who do you work for?”

He got uncomfortably closer to you to the point where you could smell his breath. You attempted to take a step back but he was suspiciously watching your every move.

“I don’t- I don’t work for anyone-”

“And your accent...,” he drawled.

It would be best if you had just stopped talking overall at this point. You were screwed and you didn’t know what you were going to do.

Seconds later, a bell clanged, and someone had stepped into the shop catching the man’s attention.

“Young Master Malfoy, what a pleasure to see you... How may I be of assistance? I must show you, just in today, and very reasonably priced-”

“Y/N, I’ve been looking everywhere for you,” that familiar voice said with a wave of relief washing all over you.

The oily man’s smile faded and he slowly stepped away, still eyeing you. You turned around and looked at Draco’s face, still shaken up. He looked at you motioning towards himself. You sped walk closer to him and stood by his side.

“Draco I-”

“Shh,” he hushed immediately. you nodded zipping your mouth closed as he straightened his suit. He pushed you behind him. “Mr. Borgin, sorry to bother. I came looking for her. She must’ve ran off when I wasn’t looking. Good day.”

“Good day yourself, Young Master Malfoy,” he lightly bowed and disappeared into a backroom.

Draco grabbed ahold onto your hand and pulled you along outside. You had emerged into a dingy alleyway that seemed to be made up entirely of shops devoted to the Dark Arts. Turning your head, you looked at the sign of the shop. It was called Borgin and Burkes, makes sense why Draco called that man Mr. Borgin.

Two shabby-looking wizards were watching you follow Draco from the shadow of a doorway, muttering to each other.

“Draco,” you tried again.

“Be quiet right now, Y/N,” he muttered lowly, still pulling you ahead. You didn’t know where you were going, but you were thankful to have been with Draco. You had passed many questionable shops, one of them being a shop selling poisonous candles. You didn’t even know this was allowed in the Wizarding World.

Draco pulled you up a flight of steps and soon enough, you saw a familiar, snow-white marble building in the distance that Ginny had told you to be Gringotts Bank; a bank for the witches and wizards. Draco had steered you right into Diagon Alley, where you had wanted to be in the first place.

"Are you dense? What were you doing down there," said Draco scolded harshly.

“I didn’t know where I was. I used that magical powder in the fireplace and then I wounded up there,” you defended, still a little shaken up. “Where was I?”

He shook his head running a hand through his hair. “That was Knockturn Alley, it is extremely dangerous for muggles like yourself. Had they found out what you were they would’ve killed you.”

You widened your eyes and looked at your feet. “Thank you for saving me back there,” you said shyly.

Draco stood there nodding mumbling a ‘you’re welcome’ under his breath. He fumbled with the hem of his jacket. He wanted to say something but he didn’t know how to go about it.

“Okay, well uhm, Y/N,” he spoke clearing his throat. You looked up, gazing into his silver eyes. He was nervous.

“I wanted to ask you this under different circumstances, but would you.. like to go out some time?” he asked. A blush slowly crept onto your cheeks. For weeks you’ve been feeling attracted towards him, but never knew if he felt the same way. It was the same vice versa.

It could’ve been his accent, his height, the way he dressed, or even his whole demeanor. There was just something about him that you felt drawn to.

Biting the inside of your cheek, you released a cheesy smile. “Are you sure you want to do that with an American muggle like myself? With a muggle who doesn’t belong here?”

He lets out a small smile, closing his eyes, and bowing his head. He opens his eyes and nods. “I’ve always loved a challenge.”

He extended his elbow for you to link onto. “Shall we?” he asked.

You accepted his arm, wrapping yours around it. “Just as long as I’m back at Olivander’s Wand shop by six o’ clock.”

“Deal,” he grinned, taking you to who knows where.

421 notes · View notes

moon-light-jukebox · 4 years

Text

“All you have to do is ask.” Chapter 9 - [Reid x Reader]

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid is one of the most brilliant men in the entire world...but even geniuses can be dumbasses. Once he realizes he’s made the biggest mistake of his life, the next step is getting Reader to forgive him.

Pairing: Spencer Reid / (Female) Reader

Rating: Mature

Category: Angst. but then the fluff we all need.

Content Warning: Talk of drug addiction, mentions of injuries, angst.

Word Count: 9.4k for Chapter 9

A/n: I’m sorry I didn’t get this out as quickly as I wanted; I know I broke your hearts in chapter 8. So, please let me and Dr. Reid put them back together. Thank you for sticking with me. 💖 Chapter 10 returns to the smut we all signed up for.

-- Chapter 9 - “You know why.” --

Out of all the compliments I've received in my life, "you're such a strong person" is the one I have gotten the most often.

I was “so strong” for busting my ass through college with dreams of going to the FBI.

My friends told me I was “so strong” when I gave myself a few days to lay around and cry about my ex before I bottled it all up and moved forward.

Everyone said I was just “so strong” for joining the FBI and finishing in the top of my class at the academy.

And when I told everyone I was a profiler that hunted the most dangerous monsters on the planet? I was both “so strong, so brave.”

It’s a nice compliment to receive, but I have never really agreed with it. I’ve never really felt strong. I've always felt resilient. The two words have always felt very different to me. It took enormous amounts of strength to go to college, join the FBI, and then become a member of one of the most prestigious units; but eventually, that strength fades, or it just tires out. Resilience came when the strength was gone when the fight had left your body, but you couldn’t give in, you would endure this pain and any pain after it…because that’s just who you are.

It didn’t take strength to leave the hospital 3 days after Spencer Reid broke my heart. It didn’t take strength to go back to the same apartment where I could feel echoes of him in every room. It didn’t even take strength to not break down and cry.

I kept going because I had to. Because I was resilient.

“You sure you got everything you need, mama?” Morgan had been annoyingly thorough in his duties today; Garcia had assigned him to be the person who brought me home and got me settled.

I offered him a wan smile. “I’m fine, Derek. It’s just a gunshot wound. I’m actually surprised how well I’m feeling.” Not good. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel ‘good’ again.

He didn’t look convinced. “Are you sure? Because the last thing I need is Garcia to throw one of her damn shoes at me again. Those things are heavy, y/n.”

I chuckled at him. “Well, you won’t get maimed on my account. I’m really okay.”

Morgan regarded me from his position by the door, his eyes ran over everything from the exhaustion on my face to my arm that was in a sling; he took note of everything before he sighed heavily. “I know it’s not my place to say but…”

“Then don’t say it, Derek.” I brought my gaze up to his, my eyes were pleading. “Please, just don’t say it.”

Reluctantly he nodded. “You call any of us if you need anything.”

I nodded. Because I would call any of them if I needed anything…any of them except the one person I really wished I could call.

My life went on like that for a time. On my first night home, Rossi had flowers delivered. On my second night home, JJ came by to bring me groceries. On my third night home Emily came by and helped me wash my hair in the sink because I couldn’t lift my arm yet. On my fourth night home Garcia came over with a stack of action movies and popcorn. I didn’t ask why she brought mindless action movies; I knew why, and I was grateful.

On my fifth day home, the team left on a case. The in-person visits slowed down a lot after that, much to my relief. I loved them all but they're profilers and I was so tired of pretending to be strong when the only reason I was still standing was because I was too fucking stubborn to fall down.

But still, Garcia would schedule the odd visitor every now and then to come to check on me; usually either her, JJ, or Emily. No one ever brought up Reid, and I was very careful not to ask about him. I don't know what they knew and what they didn't…but I just couldn’t talk about it.

I was cleared to go back to work on the second Tuesday after my injury, but I would still be on desk duty until I was 4 weeks out. I had sent Hotch an e-mail on that second Tuesday morning and requested to use some personal time, just until the end of the following week. His response was, “Whatever you need.”

He didn't respond to the e-mail I sent yesterday. The e-mail I wasn't even sure I wanted to send but knew I had to. I had submitted a hardship transfer request.

“Then maybe you should reevaluate your place in this team,” Reid had said to me. Maybe he was right. I had thought my home was with the family inside the BAU…but I had also thought Spencer Reid wanted my heart.

“But I think your judgment has been compromised.” Maybe my judgment was never that good to begin with.

Twenty-four days after I was shot and two after I requested my transfer there was a knock on my door. Scheduled visits weren’t a thing anymore. Only Garcia had been coming by; Emily and JJ would send me texts, and Morgan drove me to physical therapy a few times but that was it. So, I was very surprised when I heard a sharp knock at my door at 2 pm that Friday afternoon.

I opened the door only to find the last face I expected to see.

“Hotch,” I said, my brows drawing together.

He just gave me a rare smile. “Not who you were expecting?”

“It’s not that you’re not who I was expecting,” I began carefully. “It’s just that…when I think of cheerful visitors coming to surround me with rainbows and sunshine…I don’t think of you, boss man.”

He scoffed, which I had learned was his version of a chuckle. “Garcia is busy. So, can I come in?”

I waved my arm, offering him inside.

He surveyed my apartment; he’d never been here. None of the team had ever been here before- Stop. Don’t think about it.

“How have you been?”

I gave him a very sour look. “Peachy with a side of keen, Hotch. But that’s not why you’re here.”

He didn’t look abashed in the slightest. “You’re right. That’s not why I’m here.”

We both sat on my couch; I kept my gaze on my hands, but I felt his eyes on me.

“Why are you requesting a hardship transfer?”

I was prepared for this question. “Because there is a personal issue within my team that affects me; I can no longer be an effective agent of the FBI in this unit.”

Hotch gave me an almost smile. “That’s a very political answer.”

“It’s the truth.”

“It might be.” He sounded so thoughtful I turned to look at him. We were both profilers, but Hotch was in charge for a reason; that man saw things in ways I don’t think any of us did. “The reason might also be that Reid is a dumb ass.”

I was in no way prepared for that statement to come out of my boss’s mouth. A laugh, the first real laugh I had had in almost 25 days, burst out of me before I could clap my hand over my mouth.

He did smile then. It was a soft, sad smile. “I figured that’s what it was.”

“He’s a genius, Hotch.”

“And he’s also proof geniuses can be dumbasses.”

That one got a small chuckle out of me. “I didn’t know you were funny.”

“I have my moments,” he said dryly.

I took a deep breath, my eyes moving around my apartment, searching for something to focus on. “I don’t know what you know, I don’t know what any of you know…but I can’t stay. Not like this.”

The older man considered me for a moment, planning out his next words. I knew that the team knew that Reid and I had been…something. I hadn’t asked what they knew; I couldn’t ask.

Hotch let out a long sigh, his shoulders dropping before he spoke again. "Hayley had an affair."

…I have no idea how I’m supposed to respond to that. “I’m sorry, Hotch.”

He just nodded, his gaze sort of far off. “The team was working a case in Milwaukee; it was right before you joined. I was considering transferring; it was right before Gideon left. I knew it, she knew I knew it. I think that was sort of the beginning of the end for us.”

I just stared at him. Hotch didn’t talk about personal things.

He continued on. “It was never really brought up again until the divorce. You think divorce will end your fights…it never works out that way.” Hotch let out another sigh. “Anyway, I think about this one specific fight a lot now. I just…She was so fucking cruel, y/l/n. She said things she knew would hurt me.”

You can’t call a dead woman a cunt, y/n. You just can’t.

“I think about it so much now because I know she lashed out because I hurt her and she was scared. I picked my job over her and Jack. And she’s right…I did.”

Enlightenment finally dawned on me.

“Hotch, I see where you’re going but it’s different,” I stressed. “Protecting the team is my job. I protected a member of my team.”

He just nodded, his eyes never leaving my face. “You also jumped in front of a bullet for a man who is in love with you, who now thinks it’s his fault you got hurt.”

“He is not in love with me!” I interrupted, not that Hotch seemed to care.

“And you also told him you loved him, for what I suspect was the first time, while we all thought you were dying.”

Hold the fuck up. “You heard me? Spencer heard me?!”

Hotch nodded his head solemnly. “Rossi figured he hadn’t told you. He was inconsolable on the way to the hospital. He rode with you in the ambulance. Morgan had to restrain him when you were taken into surgery.” I felt my lungs seize, there was no more air in the room. “His legs gave out from under him when the doctor told us you made it. He was in your room right before you woke up. He ran out when your heart rate spiked.”

That…that can’t be right. “I…I don’t know what happened while I was under, but you weren’t there. You didn’t hear what he said to me, Aaron.”

“You’re right,” he said softly. “I wasn’t, but I have been around him every day since you were injured. I’ve known him for years, y/n. He’s hurting…because he’s a dumbass.”

I tried to focus on Hotch’s words, I really did. But one thing kept playing over and over in my head. That asshole heard me. He lied to me.

-- Spencer POV –

“Because I love you.”

The worst thing about having an eidetic memory is that I never forgot anything. I remember the crushing disappointment I felt on my 8th birthday when my dad didn’t call. I remember how gutted I felt when I found Gideon’s letter in his cabin. I remember the self-loathing I felt when Emily was beaten by a deranged cult leader at Liberty Ranch because she didn’t think I could handle it.

I could remember every single crushing moment of my life with absolute clarity, including the moment when I told y/n I didn’t love her. I could see every detail of her face in that moment whenever I closed my eyes. How pain covered her face for just a moment before it went blank.

Her face in that moment was all I saw when I was awake, but what I saw at night may have been worse. I saw her happy. I saw her laughing at some joke Morgan made. I saw her smiling at me while I explained the scientific impossibilities of the show we were watching on her couch. I saw how thoughtful she’d looked before she kissed me for the first time.

In the 24 days, 21 hours, and 16 minutes since I made the most painful decision of my life, I had regretted it and rethought it countless times. But then I remembered how her eyes fluttered closed that day, how her blood ran out of her body and down my arms, no matter how hard I pressed on the wound. I remembered how it felt to think I was going to lose her.

The members of my team were all furious with me for my decision; I even felt tension from Rossi and Hotch, though it was more subtle. Y/n hadn’t been with our team long, but she had already carved out a place in everyone’s heart…and she’d carved out all of my heart; now it was filled with almost nothing but her. At first, it was just Morgan who was pissed at me, then Emily started becoming frustrated, even JJ stopped inviting me over for dinner as much. They were all still my friends, but everything felt different.

I hadn't realized there was a giant problem until the last person I ever expected to be mad at me finally snapped. We were in the conference room discussing our last case when I had asked Garcia a question. Looking back, I can see it was a dumb question; Garcia cross-referenced everything and dug into people's lives before we even had a chance to ask. But even my stupid question hadn’t warranted her response.

“Garcia, do you know any of the victim’s extended families have any connections to one another? Even distantly.”

She had clicked her tongue against her teeth, her shoulders stiffening. “Of course I have, Reid. That’s a stupid question…but I guess we should expect stupid questions from you now. Since you’ve suddenly become an-“

“Garcia,” Hotch warned.

“Sorry, sir.” She let out a breath.

“Yes, Dr. Reid, I have checked and found no apparent connections.

She’d been avoiding me ever since.

I knew that I had made a mess of things, but the team just didn't understand. They'd only felt her warmth from afar; I'd actually got to be a part of it. They didn't know how her feet were always cold and how she'd shove them under my leg while we watched TV. They didn't know that she mumbled in her sleep sometimes, or when she was really stressed about a case, she'd grind her teeth. The pain I felt now was indescribable, but I couldn't live with losing her.

We’d gotten back home from a case earlier this morning, Hotch let us all go home around noon. Usually, he'd make us stay and finish our paperwork, but he said he had "something" he had to take care of.

Not being at work was bittersweet. Because work reminded me of her, but at least I could occupy my mind with other things; when I was home, she surrounded me. I couldn’t lay in my bed without imagining her beside me. The look on her face when she told me she was ready to be with me. For the first few days after I could still smell her shampoo on my pillow. That was long gone now.

It was just after 2 pm when there was a very loud knock on my door.

“Open up, dumbass!’

What is Morgan doing here? I got up from my couch to open my door. Morgan was in the same clothes he wore to work, he didn't look injured, but his jaw was set, his teeth clenched together. Uh oh.

“Why are you here?” I sighed. I already knew why he was here.

“I’m here,” he began, shoving his way into my apartment. “To see why you’re still being a dumbass.”

I didn’t bother correcting him. Maybe I am a dumbass.

“Morgan-“

“Nu-uh. You sit your little scrawny ass down and listen to me.”

I’m not that scrawny, I thought grumpily while I sat down.

He put his hands on his hips, coming to stand in front of me. “Reid, what are you doing man?”

“I don’t know,” I mumbled.

“Well, I’ll tell you what the fuck you’re doing, Pretty Boy. You know, we were all content to let you flounder along for a while longer. You’re smart, you’d figure it out. But that was before y/n submitted a request for a hardship transfer.”

My shoulders stiffened. I had told her to rethink her place on the team, but I didn’t mean leave it. “What? When?”

“I’m not sure when,” he replied. “Hotch is at her apartment now trying to talk her out of it.”

So that was his important business.

“Look, kid.” He came to sit beside me on the couch. “I know you’re scared. I know you almost lost her, and you couldn’t bear that. But you’re losing her now too, man!’

“It’s different, Morgan,” I protested.

“Yeah, it is different, because you don’t have to lose her! You didn’t see her when she came home from the hospital. She wasn’t even sad, Reid. She was numb. We all knew she had walls up before…but these new walls, man? They make the old ones look like nothing.”

I put my hands together, lacing my fingers tightly. “But-“

Morgan stood up. “No, Reid! No! No buts. I understand that you’re hurting, believe me. But did you ever stop to use that big ass brain of yours to think for a second that you’re hurting her too?!”

“I know I’m hurting her, Morgan,” I said hotly. “I know! But it’s better she’s hurt like this for a little while then die over me!”

“Oh, come on, kid! You can’t make that choice for her! That’s not how love works!” He let out a sigh. “You’re acting like a coward, Spencer. And that’s not the kind of man you are.”

It’s exactly the type of man I am. “Morgan, she’s…she’s everything to me. She’s the sun at the center of my universe. I can’t let her disappear.”

“Okay, okay,” Morgan nodded, considering me. “Now, I’m not a genius but I do know some stuff after hanging around your ass for all these years. The universe would fall apart without the sun. But…what happens if the sun dims?”

“What?” My heart refused to work when I processed his words.

“You heard me. What happens to the universe when the sun dims? It’s still there, but it’s nowhere near as bright anymore. Because she may be the center of your universe but she’s still a part of a lot of other people’s…I don’t know, galaxy or some shit.” Morgan flicked his hand around to gesture at nothing, like this somehow proved his point.

“Spencer. I know you’re scared. I get it. But you’re making the choice for her. You lied to her, man. You got her to let you in and then you fucking shut her out when you get scared! Do you think she wasn’t scared to let you in in the first place? She’s never going to be totally free of danger, Reid. That’s part of what makes her who she is; she is always going to put herself at risk to help people, we all are! It’s why we’re on the same fucking team!”

The impact of Morgan’s words was a blow to the gut. What if I wasn’t keeping her safe? What if I was putting her through this…because I was afraid? Did I push her away from me for her? Or did I-

“Oh my god. I’m a dumbass.”

Morgan threw his hands in the air before slapping them against his hips.

“I fucked up.”

Morgan opened his eyes very wide and tilted his head down in a universally recognized expression of “you think, dumbass?”.

“What do I do?”

“You apologize, Reid! You go over to her house and you beg for forgiveness.”

My palms were starting to sweat. “What if she doesn’t forgive me?”

Morgan shrugged. “Then at least you tried, man.”

“Will you give me a ride?”

His face split into a wide smile. “There’s the genius! Let’s go!”

-- Reader’s POV --

It was just after 4 pm when there was another sharp knock on my door. I picked up the remote to pause the TV show I wasn’t watching; I had just needed some background noise. With a huff, I pulled myself off the couch and started shuffling towards the door. Hotch hadn’t been gone long, so I just figured maybe he’d come back to impart more wisdom on me.

It wasn’t Hotch. My heart stuttered when I saw that mop of curly brown hair out of my door’s peephole.

He knocked again, more hesitantly than before. “Y/n,” he called. “I know I don’t have any right to ask. But…I need to talk to you.”

My eyebrows drew together in confusion. What could you possibly have to say to me?

I cleared my throat. “Is something wrong?”

I saw his head snap up; his eyes fixed on the peephole on my door. “Yes. Everything is wrong.”

Oh. “Are…are you alright?”

“No.” His answer was simple and firm. “I know I don’t deserve anything from you…but, please, y/n.”

Taking a deep breath, I cracked open my door. “What do you want, Reid?”

I only allowed a tiny sliver of my face to be seen through the door. “C-can I come in?”

“I…I don’t know,” I mumbled. You’re still everywhere. If I let you in now…how will you ever fade?

Reid just nodded. “I understand. I just…I owe you an apology. I owe you so many apologies.”

I swallowed; my throat suddenly coated in sandpaper. “Reid, I don’t…you don’t…”

His eyes never left mine; he was leaving the choice up to me. “I don’t have to come in. I’ll talk to you through your door. Or I can talk to you over the phone. I’ll send you letters if that is easier. Just…please say you’ll talk to me?”

Very, very slowly, I eased the door open. He was cautious when he walked in, his hands stuffed into his pants pockets. “You don’t have to-“

“Yes, I do,” he interrupted. “That day in my apartment… I asked you not to lie to me. And I’ve done nothing but lie to you for the past 24 days, 22 hours, and 30 minutes.” He shifted his weight from foot to foot.

“I already know you heard me, Reid.”

He just nodded. “That’s one of the things I lied about. But it’s not all. It’s not even close to all. I told you my feelings changed, and they didn’t. They haven’t. I still feel the exact same way that I always have. I’m so sorry I even let you think that I didn’t l-“

“Stop.” I wrapped my arms around my middle. “I-I can’t. You…you can’t say that.” I will break if you say that.

His hands came out of his pockets, his arms outstretched, palms facing me; like I was a wild animal he was trying not to startle. “I won’t, I won’t. I’m sorry. I won’t say it until you're ready to hear it if you're ever ready to hear it. But…you have to know why.”

My teeth dug into my bottom lip; my eyes averted from him. “Why what?”

“Why I…Y/n, I just…I thought that I was protecting you.”

My face fell into a frown. “Protecting me from what?”

He stuffed his hands back into his pockets. “From me.” I opened my mouth to say something, but he hurried on. “I know I contribute to the team in some ways, but I also know other people have to pick up my slack sometimes. I just…I know members of the team have gotten hurt protecting me before.” He swallowed, his eyes blinking rapidly. “I couldn’t let you get hurt trying to protect me too. I’m not worth it.”

I felt anger start to burn in my stomach. “You don’t get to make those sorts of choices for people, Reid.”

He nodded. “I know. I was wrong.” He squared his slim shoulders, pulling his hands out of his pockets to rest them at his sides. “I fucked up. I’ve made the biggest mistake I have ever made in my entire life. And I only know one way to fix mistakes this big.” He paused, his throat working when he swallowed. “In Narcotics Anonymous the hardest steps for a lot of people are steps 8 and 9. Step 8 is acknowledging that our actions have caused pain and we need to make amends. Step 9 is making those amends and making them in a way that won’t hurt anyone.”

Hands back in his pockets, he took a hesitant step towards me. “I promise, y/n, I will never hurt you again. This isn’t an excuse, but I was so…I was so scared. I thought that…I thought that your injury was my fault. And I thought if I distanced you from such a…a colossal fuck up like me that you’d be safer.”

My body started to shake, but I wouldn’t let any tears fall. I couldn’t. If the dam broke now, I don’t know that I’d be able to put it back in place.

“Y/n, I don’t deserve the opportunity to make amends to you. But…if you’ll let me, I’d like to try. You’re…you’re everything, y/n. Everything. I even lied before when I said you were sunshine and warmth. You’re so much more than that.”

I heard the tears in his voice, but I couldn’t look at him. I’d break if I looked at him.

“You’re the sun. You’re the center of my universe. And I thought I was keeping you safe, but…I didn’t give you the choice. I took your choice away from you when you’ve always given me a choice in everything.”

I moved my eyes upwards to look at the ceiling, crossing my arms over my chest, my hands rubbing over my upper arms. “I don’t-I don’t know what you want me to say, Reid.”

I heard his shoes on my floor; I felt the air shift in the room when he took a step closer to me. “Just…Just say you’ll…that you’ll at least wait before you push your transfer through. That you’ll let me try to fix this, even though I don’t deserve it.”

A humorless laugh left my throat. “I already told Hotch to hold my transfer request.”

His voice cracked when he spoke again. “You did? When?”

“He came by about an hour ago.” I finally, finally looked at him. I saw his glassy eyes, his wild hair, and the clear pain mixed with a spark of hope on his face. He wasn’t my boy, not anymore. But…goddamnit. “He said…He said you were being a dumbass.”

Reid laughed a bit at that. “That seems to be the general consensus.”

“He asked me to give it some time. To see if working with the team again would actually be a hardship. My first day back is Monday, and I’m cleared to go back on active duty Wednesday.”

He shifted, his hands coming up to push is hair out of his face. “So, you’ll be back on Monday?”

"That's the plan," I said softly. "But…Reid, I don't-I don't know if I can…"

“I’m not asking you to forgive me. I’m just asking you to let me try to make amends for this.”

I brought my hand up to rub my forehead. “What is your goal here, Reid? What do you want?”

His face was as open as I’d ever seen it, his eyes were wide, and his lips were parted. “I want to go back to the moment you started to wake up in the hospital. I want to hold your hand and tell you how much I” he cut himself off, which I was grateful for. “And I want to be the one that drove you home. I want to be the one that helped you wash your hair. I want to be the one that sat on your couch and watched movies with you.” He sighed, his eyes shifting to the side. “But I can’t have any of that. Morgan came by my apartment around the same time Hotch was here…he told me that I was hurting the thing I was trying so hard to protect. And he said you were building a wall around yourself.

Dr. Spencer Reid brought those brown eyes back over to meet mine. “I want you to let me try to knock down that wall again.”

My voice was soft, I could feel my chin trembling, my nails were digging into my arms. “But why?”

For the first time since he entered my apartment, he smiled. It was small but overwhelmingly warm. “You know why.”

I felt something pierce my heart; it was small and sharp, both painful and soothing at the same time. “Reid…I…I don’t know if I can…I don’t know…”

“You don’t have to know,” the man said simply. “You just have to be willing to let me try.”

“But they’re just words, Reid. They’re just words. How am I supposed to believe that you won’t do this again the next time I get injured? Because I can handle being injured…but you gutted me.” I bit down hard on the inside of my cheek, using the pain to help me focus. I couldn’t let the dam break.

“They’re not just words,” he whispered. “I’ll prove it, y/n. I promise.”

I took a very shaky breath, not making an attempt to hide my pain. “I gave you everything, every single part of me and you brushed me aside. You left me in agony when I needed you.”

My choked words lashed at him, but he just took it with a nod. “I know. I don’t deserve another chance. I have no right after what I’ve done. What I’m asking for isn’t fair…but I have to ask. Please?”

“Okay.”

“What?” His words were soft, but the smile that spread over his face was the brightest thing I had ever seen.

I huffed. “You heard me. Don’t push it.”

‘Okay.” He smiled at me again as he made his way around my body, heading for my door. I wrapped my arms tighter around myself like I could somehow physically hold myself together. I heard the lock turn and the door pull open; I heard his feet shuffle through the doorway…before he paused. “Thank you, y/n.” The door clicked shut softly, and I finally allowed myself to breathe.

I wasn’t strong, I really wasn’t. Because if I was strong, I wouldn’t have felt so fucking hopeful.

After my conversation with Hotch yesterday, and my surprise visit from Reid last night, I expected my Saturday to be fairly uneventful. Which is why I wasn’t expecting a knock on my door at 8 pm that night.

“Who the fuck is it now?” I muttered, sighing with exasperation.

I thought Hotch was the most unexpected person I would ever see at my door unannounced, but this one caught me more off guard for so. I opened the door to see the bright smiling face of a young man in a delivery uniform. “Y/n y/l/n?” He asked politely.

“…Yes?”

He handed me a plastic bag with styrofoam containers inside. “Here you go. The bill has already been taken care of. Have a good night, ma’am!”

He was already halfway down the hall before I realized what was happening. “Wait, I didn’t order anything,” I called.

"I know, ma'am," he turned, walking backward as he spoke. "The order was placed in the store. A man came by and ordered the food, left a note to put in the bag, and told me to leave before you had a chance to refuse it." He smiled sheepishly at me. "I'm sorry, he gave me a really good tip. Have a good night!"

Frowning, I shut my door and moved into my kitchen, setting the bag on the counter. Sure enough, there was a note on top of the container.

“I know it’s your favorite. S.R.”

The thing about Reid is he had the worst handwriting I had ever seen. Even if I hadn’t suspected this was from him and he hadn’t signed the note, the handwriting would have given it away.

I went into my living room and snatched my phone off the couch before I quickly fired off a text.

“Why did you have dinner delivered to my house?”

His response came a moment later. “You know why.”

On Sunday morning, I had one of my last physical therapy appointments. I hadn't sustained any permanent damage to my left shoulder from the bullet. The only real issue was the healing muscle and the artery that was nicked. Even though I was right-handed, it was important in my line of work that I did not lose any strength in my left arm. The physical therapist had made an exception to see me on the weekend since my first day back at work was tomorrow.

The thought of going back to work made me incredibly nervous. I wasn't sure how things would be different. Not only did I have to worry about my relationship with Reid, but I also had to worry about how it would affect the team. I knew they all cared about me…but Reid had been a part of their family much longer than I had. Hotch’s visit on Friday meant a lot to me; I don’t think I would have been able to come back to work without it.

Despite my nerves, after being home on my couch for almost a month, I was itching to get back to doing the work I loved. I had already passed my post-injury psychiatric evaluation, which was pointless anyway as the BAU wrote the questions, but now with this approval from the physical therapist, I would only be on desk duty for 2 days once I returned.

I was so caught up in thought when I got to my apartment that I almost missed the paper taped to the front of my door. It was an envelope that looked some sort of parchment. If the type of paper didn’t give away the sender, the messy way my name was written on the front certainly did.

Calm down, y/n, I thought, reaching up to pluck the note from the door. It’s just a piece of paper. I knew my fear was irrational but trusting him after everything that had happened was terrifying. Because despite my best instincts, I wanted to trust him.

Inside the envelope was a letter, it wasn’t written on standard paper; but, nothing about the man it was from was ever standard.

“Y/n,

Before my mother’s schizophrenia became as bad as it is now, she used to read to me all the time. She was a professor of 15th-century literature. My love of reading came from her. Her favorite author is Margery Kempe; and when I was thinking about what I wanted to say to you, one quote in particular from Kempe kept coming to mind.

‘Patience is more worthy than miracle-working’.

The fact that you’ve given me even the slightest chance to apologize to you is the closest thing to a miracle I’ve ever seen. It's not a gift I'm going to take lightly. I know this is so incredibly hard for you. I know tomorrow is going to be hard for you, but I don't want you to feel like you're being forced to do anything before you're ready. I want to make amends, or at least try to, but I don't want to cause you any more pain.

You were patient with me in the beginning of our relationship; you were so unbelievably kind and generous – I think those are the things that made me…feel how I do now. I just want you to know that I’m prepared to be patient too. I never expected you to forgive me, and on the off chance you did, I knew it wouldn’t come easily.

I’d wait for you forever, y/n.

I don’t want to go against your wishes, but I want you to know that I’m ready. I’m ready to tell you now and every moment after for the rest of my life. All you have to do is ask and I’ll never stop telling you what you mean to me.

- Spencer”

My hands shook as I refolded the letter, slipping it back inside the envelope. I was dialing his number before I was even fully aware of what I was doing.

“Hello?” His voice sounded slightly apprehensive, almost shy.

“I got your letter,” I said quietly.

“I-I…I hope I didn’t make you uncomfortable.”

I let out a sigh. “No, Reid. You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“You’ve not called me Spencer since…”

“I’m not there yet.” I closed my eyes when I said it; even now…I didn’t want to hurt him. I’m just not there yet.

I heard him shift around on the other end of the line. “I know. You don’t have to be. I just…I just wanted to tell you how I feel.”

“And send me dinner,” I added dryly. He laughed softly before I asked what I really wanted to know. “Reid…how have you been?” I ran my hand over my forehead. “I mean…before I was…before I was shot I know you were struggling with-“

“Ah,” he mumbled when the realization hit him. “It wasn’t easy…it hasn’t been easy. I went to a lot of meetings after you were…And I spent a lot of time on JJ’s couch trying to convince her and myself that I was doing the right thing by pushing you away.”

I flexed the fingers of my left hand, my posture shifting while he spoke. “But you haven’t…I didn’t make…”

“Y/n,” he said, his voice was so fucking gentle that it almost shattered me. “I haven’t. And even if I did, it wouldn’t have been your fault. No bad choice I make is ever anyone’s fault but my own. My demons are my own.”

I sighed. “I know, Reid, but I don’t want to be…I don’t want to make them worse.”

“You couldn’t,” he said firmly. “Whenever I did think about calling a dealer, doing anything I could to not feel the pain in my heart…I-I kept seeing your face. You looked so understanding when I told you about dilaudid. You made me feel proud of myself for the first time in a long time.”

I had to put my palm over the end of my phone. I didn’t want him to hear how my breathing had become uneven.

“Y/n, I’ll do anything to have you look at me like that again.”

"I don't need to ask why do I?" I asked lightly, in an attempt to defuse the tension.

He laughed. “No, I don’t think you do.”

I found myself smiling, grateful he couldn’t see me. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Reid.”

When I arrived to work on Monday morning for my first official day back, I was apprehensive but hopeful. The world wasn’t perfect, but it wasn’t as dark as it has been.

Right when I entered the bullpen, I saw something on my desk that made me pause. There in the center of my desk was a large iced coffee from my favorite cafe, the one near my house. No matter how early I got up, I never seemed to have time to stop there before work most days. So, the fact that a cup was there in the first place was cause for notice but that wasn’t the strangest part; the ice wasn’t melted. There wasn’t any condensation on the plastic cup.

I know I’m not a genius, but that can’t happen. Right?

“There she is!”

I turned to see Rossi making his way towards me, his arm's outstretched. He wrapped me in a tight hug, pressing a kiss to my cheek.

“We’re happy to have you back, y/n.”

I smiled widely at him, meaning it when I said, “I’m happy to be back.” He gave my upper arm a squeeze before he started to walk away. “Hey, Rossi. Did you do this?” I asked, gesturing to the cup on my desk.

He just had a sly smile on his face. “I did not, kiddo.”

Of course, he didn't. After taking a deep breath, I turned to the desk across from mine. Reid was already sitting there scribbling away, doing a very good job of pretending he didn’t know I was already here. I marched over to him before I lost my nerve. “The ice wasn’t melted.”

He looked up at me, not the slightest bit surprised at my presence, a soft smile on his face. “Beg your pardon?”

“The ice. In my iced coffee. It wasn’t melted.” I waved my hand around in the air. I’m not crazy, am I? That couldn’t have just happened.

“That’s because I asked them not to put any ice in when they made it,” he said simply. “You don’t like it as much when it’s watered down after the ice melts some; so I just added the ice here.”

My heart started to beat faster. “Why would you do that?”

The smile on his face got bigger, his eyes seemed to soften somehow when he looked at me. “You know why,” he said simply.

I didn’t know what to say. So, with a tight nod at him, I turned and walked back to my desk.

The rest of my first day back went how I expected. When Morgan saw me, he gathered me up in a giant hug and spun around ignoring my demands to put me down. Garcia hugged me like she hadn’t seen me in years and brought me cupcakes. Emily and JJ took me to lunch. Hotch made me fill out forms. And Reid…well, whenever I turned to look at him, I found he was already looking at me.

The very next day when I showed up for work, I was suspicious. Every day since that Friday, Reid had done something. But when I arrived in the morning there was nothing on my desk. Nothing appeared out of place. Maybe it’s a fluke. Reid was already sitting at his desk, scrolling through his e-mail.

I knew what he had done the second I sat down. For as long as I had worked at this desk in the BAU bullpen, there was one wheel on my chair that was wonky. It never wanted to roll, and it always drove me insane. No matter what I tried the wheel never worked this well, and especially not this smoothly. Did he-?

When I looked over, he was already looking at me, that same soft smile on his face.

On my third day back at work there was nothing on my desk when I arrived, there was nothing anywhere. But I knew him, I knew he wasn’t done yet; there had to be something.

That something was on my desk when I got back from turning in my return to active duty forms to Hotch. There was a single sunflower in a vase sitting on my desk. I walked up to it and touched the petals softly. It was beautiful, but I was confused.

Walking over to his desk, I didn’t bother trying to hide the confusion or apprehension on my face. This time he wasn’t pretending to be doing something else; his eyes had been on me since the moment I walked out of Hotch’s office.

“It’s beautiful,” I began. “But I don’t understand the symbolism.”

He tilted back in his chair, looking up at me. “Sunflowers always want to be looking at the sun…and so do I.”

Because he thinks I’m the sun.

“But don’t sunflowers stop turning towards the sun when they get older?”

He just nodded. “They might, but I never will.”

I ran my tongue over my lips before I pulled both of them in between my teeth. I felt tears prick the corners of my eye. “Why?” I asked, my voice slightly thicker than normal.

Spencer stood up then; it looked like he would reach for me, but he quickly put his hands at his sides. “I’ll stop if it hurts you. Y/n, I promise to never hurt you again.” His words were earnest, his eyes were pleading. “But ‘why?’ You know why.”

I just nodded my head slightly, blowing out a shaky breath. “Thank you, it’s lovely.”

I don't know why Spencer said I was the sun because his smile at that moment was the brightest thing I'd ever seen. "Is it too much if I throw in a cheesy line, like, 'it's not as lovely as you?'"

“Brat,” I muttered, turning quickly so he wouldn’t see my smile.

That bright smile was still on his face when we all met in the conference room 20 minutes later. I saw Rossi clap him on the back when he walked in. JJ shot him a very sweet smile, it was almost motherly, like she was proud of him. Prentiss just winked.

Morgan wasn’t subtle. I’m not sure he knew how to be. He held out his fist for a fist bump, laughing openly when Spencer just wrapped his hand around it and shook.

“Alright,” Hotch said from the front of the room. Fuck, even he is smiling a little bit. “Let’s get started.”

Less than 30 minutes later, I was boarding the BAU jet for the first time in more than a month. We were off to Arkansas to assist the Hot Springs police department to catch a suspected serial killer.

I was one of the last ones on board; I smiled awkwardly when I saw everyone’s eyes on me.

“What kept you, Pretty Girl?” Morgan asked with a grin.

Oh, I’m Pretty Girl now? Subtle. I shot Morgan a look to indicate I wasn’t amused. “I had to talk to Garcia.”

Rossi looked at me expectantly “…About?”

They were all just staring at me, and they weren’t even trying to hide their amusement. I sighed. “I couldn’t just leave it on my desk, you assholes.” Garcia might have squealed loudly when I brought her my sunflower and asked her to watch over it for me.

Every one of them laughed…except Reid. Reid just bit his bottom lip and dropped his gaze. He looked so much like my nervous boy that it made me ache. That was the first time I allowed myself to admit how much I missed my darling boy.

I was in the middle of going over victimology when a cup of coffee was sat down beside me. I mumbled my thanks, not even glancing up, just reaching out to grab it. It wasn’t until my fingers wrapped around the cup that my head snapped up.

“Morgan,” I called. “What’s this?”

His smile was very, very bright. “It’s your coffee.”

I picked up the iced coffee, giving it a once over. “Are you or are you not the same Derek Morgan that has said multiple times, ‘I ain’t no damn barista if you want special coffee you go get it your damn self'?"

He nodded, his smile never wavering. “I am, so don’t get used to it. But when my boy has finally stopped being a dumbass and is trying to win his girl back?” He winked at me. “I’ll make an exception when he asks for a favor.”

I heard JJ laugh softly from the other end of the table. I scrunched my face into a mock glare at both of them. “Don’t you have a murderer to catch?”

He turned before leaving the room, putting a hand to his chest in a very dramatic fashion. “Pretty Girl, you should know SSA Derek Morgan can multitask!”

I still don’t know what it is about towns in the middle of nowhere, but it never fails, one of the cops from said town will try to weasel his way into my bed the second the case is over. I was packing up after the unsub was booked when someone cleared his throat behind me to get my attention. This time it was a tall, slightly out of shape Officer named Reynolds. His smile was greasy but at least he didn’t try to touch me.

“I’m sorry,” I said, offering what I hoped was a polite smile. “I have a boyfriend.” I always tried to be diplomatic when this happened, just because I didn’t need to Hotch reprimand me for threatening a member of the local police…again.

Officer Reynolds’ scoffed. “He doesn’t have to know.”

The smile dropped off my face, my eyes hardening. Fucker. “That’d be pretty fucking difficult since he’s a member of my team and he’s sharing a room with me.” I picked up my bag and tossed a sarcastic “nice working with you” over my shoulder before I hightailed it out of the conference room. I didn’t stop until I got to the main entrance of the precinct, where I planned to wait for the rest of the team.

“So, am I the boyfriend you mentioned?” A voice asked from behind me.

Of course. I turned to see Dr. Spencer Reid looking very pleased with himself. “I also didn’t know you wanted to share a room with me tonight. We each have single rooms though, so we don’t have to swap with anyone else…” he trailed off pretending to think. “So, who’s room are we taking?”

I rolled my eyes. “Reid, if it got some slimy cop off my back, I’d tell him you were my husband. I will throw you under the bus to save myself from a very awkward conversation that would probably lead to me punching someone.”

His face changed, he no longer looked overly pleased with himself. He looked like the same man that sat on the couch with me all those weeks ago and asked me if I kissed my submissives. He looked like the Spencer that used to be mine.

“You act like I’d mind,” he said quietly.

“Mind what? Being thrown under the bus?”

“Being called your husband.”

I froze, my eyes immediately dropped to the floor. I couldn’t look at him, I couldn’t. I let out a very shaky exhale, a sure sign that I was about to cry. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t. Why is he doing this to me?

I saw his beaten-up converse move into my field of view. He was close to me now, but he didn’t touch me. “I’m sorry, y/n,” he whispered. “But I promised I wouldn’t lie to you anymore.”

JJ walked around the corner then and he broke away from me. I just stared at my hands the whole drive back to the hotel.

The clock on the bedside table blinked 11:47 pm. I had been lying in bed since 9 pm trying to fall asleep. When we arrived back to the hotel, I didn’t speak to anyone, I just kept my head down and walked straight into my room. Once I was inside, I tore my clothes off and got into the shower, turning it on the hottest temperature I could tolerate.

I felt the tears; they were right there, I felt them pulsing underneath my eyes. I didn’t know how to do this. I didn’t know how to deny myself everything I had ever wanted when it was offering itself to me…I was the reason I was in pain right now, and it was all because I was so fucking terrified to trust him again.

I glanced back over at the clock. 11:49 pm.

Taking a deep breath, trying to pull some sort of courage into myself, I picked up my phone.

He’s probably sleeping, I reasoned, giving myself one last chance to back out.

But then the phone was dialing. I listened to the ringing and held my breath. Because what was I supposed to do if he didn’t answer? What was I supposed to do if he did?

“Y/n?” his sleepy voice asked, sounding disoriented but urgent. “What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

Everything. And no. But I couldn't get my mouth to open. I couldn't say anything. If I opened my mouth, then everything would spill out. All the pain, all the secrets, all the hopes, and fears…and it would all be bared to Spencer Reid.

In the way that Spencer knew everything, he knew what I needed then. “I’ll be right there.” I heard a rustling on his end of the line, but he never hung up the phone.

Before I was ready, I heard the same hesitant knock on my door that I heard every night he came to my hotel room just because he missed me; the same knock that I had heard that first day at my apartment. The knock was the final crack that broke the dam I had built around my emotions in an attempt to hold them back so they wouldn’t sweep me away.

I don’t remember walking to the door, I don’t remember unlocking it; all I remember is Spencer standing on the other side in the same Caltech t-shirt and sweatpants he wore in my apartment when we sat on my couch on our first real night together.

“Y/n?” His eyes ran over me frantically. He came into the room, shutting the door behind him. His hands reached out like he would grab me, but I saw the indecision on his face. “Tell me what you need, baby. Please?”

The moment that I was so afraid of happened then. The tears finally flooded my eyes and my jaw unlocked. “Spence, I’m scared.” I swallowed, trying to control my broken voice. “I want this so much but I’m terrified.”

His arms enveloped me before I was finished speaking. One hand in the center of my back, the other on the back of my head. He smelt like coffee, laundry detergent, and my Spencer. My body shook in his arms. The pain from his words at the hospital, the pain from him not being there when I woke up, the pain of losing him, and the pain of having to turn him away for almost a week when he was all I wanted; all of that pain just poured out of me while I sobbed into his chest.

“I’m so sorry, y/n,” he whispered against my hair. “I’m so, so sorry. And I will do anything-I’ll do everything to prove to you that I will never hurt you again.”

He kept holding me until my tears finally quieted, my body almost went limp in his arms. The weight of all of that pain was so heavy for so long, and now that I didn’t have to hold it, I was so tired.

“Spence?” My throat felt raw, my eyes were puffy.

“Hmm?”

I didn’t lift my head to look at him. “I’m ready to hear it now.”

Spencer froze, I’m pretty sure he stopped breathing for a moment. Then he leaned back, pulling his chest away from my face. Both of his hands cupped my face, his thumbs moving over my cheeks softly, wiping the tear trails away. Spencer held me like I was more fragile than glass like I was made of something that would crumble into nothing if he so much as moved wrong.

“Are you sure?” he asked quietly, his beautiful golden-brown eyes searching mine.

I nodded. “Yeah, I think so,” I said, giving him a small shaky laugh.

He tilted my head up slightly before his lips brushed against my forehead. “I loved you before you were ready to hear it; I loved you before you even knew I existed.” He pressed another kiss my cheek. “I loved you since the first time you smiled at me.” He kissed my other cheek. “I will never stop telling you how much I love you.” He trailed his lips over to my mouth. “I will love you forever…because no one has ever loved someone the way I love you,” he whispered, his breath washing over my lips.

I leaned forward and brushed my mouth against his. I felt the final layer of my resistance crumble. “Please don’t hurt me again, Spence.”

He pulled away to stare in my eyes. “I will never hurt you like this again. I’m so fucking sorry, y/n.”

“Just kiss me, Spencer.”

He gave me a tiny grin at the command. “I thought you didn’t kiss your submissives,” he teased.

I brought my hand up to hold his face. “You know I break all my rules for you, my darling, nervous boy.”

Series tag list: @abschaffer2 @liaabsurd @brokenanxiety @thisiscalmandits-dr @less-intelligent-spencerreid @reidsmyhusband-emilysmymistress @cielo1984 @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @101donuts @heyitssarahk @creepingfromthecorners @fanfictionislifetho @annestine @boiled-onionrings @gublerspublers @dolanfivsosxox @lamusaeuterpe @publiusvirgilius @suzystuff @differentkettleoffishalltogether @georgiamae @thatsonezesty13 @addie5264 @hopefulfangirl24 @april-14-blog @whateverthefuckm8 @alissablake

Comment/message me if you’d like to be added.

Taglist for all my writing: @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent

#Spencer Reid #Spencer Reid x you #Spencer Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid angst #Spencer Reid fluff #Dr. Spencer Reid #Criminal minds #criminal minds fan fiction #criminal minds imagine #Spencer Reid imagine #spencer reid fanfic #Dr Reid #reid #Spencer Reid fan fiction #ayhtdia

445 notes · View notes

kyouxa · 3 years

Text

Chaos Lineage: Game Prologue

This particular game is described as 'a painful vampire love story that takes place in a “what-if” parallel world.' Meanwhile, this game actually takes place between Dark Fate and Lost Eden. Enjoy!

Place: Secret room — Interior lights

Karlheinz: Checkmate.

Socrates: … !? Why is it that you win again… ?

Karlheinz: I have triumphed once again.

Socrates: Kch...

Karlheinz: I truly enjoyed myself tonight. It was an intense match until the very end.

Socrates: Are you leaving now?

Karlheinz: I most certainly still have to carry my plan forward.

Socrates: So you are quitting while we are still ahead?

Karlheinz: I do wish to continue this game of ours.

But I know you are aware of me being unable to do so, my friend.

Socrates: Yes, I do know that. And that is why it makes me impatient.

Karlheinz: Do not say that, my friend. My long-cherished desire is to create a new life…

And in order for me to achieve this, Adam and Eve are necessary.

Socrates: I know…

You have been keeping your eyes on finding Eve for a very long time already. She might just be a normal girl, but she does carry a special heart inside her.

Her role was to fall in love with a demon, and she fulfilled it.

Karlheinz: And after this, the vampire chosen and loved by Eve… will become Adam.

And this said moment is finally about to finally arrive.

I rewind time this many times and I have been trying all possible varieties…

And now success is finally before my eyes.

My friend, I knew having you as my conversation companion would not make me feel bored in the slightest.

Socrates: How reluctant…

Karlheinz: What, I am sure we will see each other in our next lives again.

Socrates: ...You are right. We will see each other in our next lives.

Karlheinz: I will now start arranging the final preparations… therefore, I will excuse myself.

*Karlheinz disappears*

Socrates: Karlheinz… we will no longer see each other in this life… hm?

Monologue

A vampire called Adam. And a human girl called Eve.

If the two of them unite in marriage and give birth to a new life, Karlheinz’ plan will, without a doubt, finally be fulfilled.

...But the price of fulfilling this, will be losing my friend.

After this, I will be awfully desolate. Yes, I will be very lonely indeed…

Suddenly, I turned my eyes back to the table.

On the chessboard, the white and black chess pieces were still aligned. Those are traces of the game I enjoyed with my friend just a moment ago.

Place: Secret room — Interior lights

Socrates: My friend, I wonder if that man, who has been chosen as Adam, is certainly worthy of his role?

Monologue

There must have been a lot of candidates to be Adam. But was it truly inevitable to choose him?

If everyone knew Eve under equal conditions… would we not be able to deduce the true Adam in doing so?

...In the end, I am still not convinced that he should become Adam.

Therefore, I should experiment on my own, in order to convince myself.

Place: Secret room — Interior lights

Socrates: This should become a fighting game, in order for them to get the piece called Eve. The chess board will then become their world, which I will create with my magic—

I will confine the candidates for Adam as the chess pieces with Eve together.

Adam might have been chosen already, but it is more than easy to alter their memories.

Their memories, abilities and positions — why do I not try and put them under equal circumstances as well?

An experiment to see which piece will end up truly obtaining Eve at the very end…

In this fabricated miniature garden, they shall fight until only one piece remains.

Now, let the game begin. Until they may reach a checkmate.

Or… until someone deviates from the rules of this game.

Until only one last piece remains standing, or until someone ends up breaking the rules…

There is no other way to get out of this experiment—

Monologue

I wonder where this place is? The only thing I know is that I’m laying in complete darkness.

It’s as if my mind is blank, even if I try to trace my memories, I can’t remember anything.

And then, all of the sudden, someone’s shadow appears in front of me. This person, who appears to be a beloved and nostalgic one, is watching me with tender eyes.

But I don’t know who they are. Just who are you?

And even more importantly, who am I?

As if responding to my question, a man’s voice resonates from nowhere—

Place: ???

???: Good morning, Eve. Do you know who you are?

*enter MC’s name*

???: No, that is not your name, Eve. That is your real name.

Yui: Eve… so that’s my name…

Monologue

“Eve”… that name sounds somehow awfully familiar to me. As I moved my mouth, I repeated the name with each breath I took.

Place: ???

Yui: Eve… Eve… Eve…

Monologue

As I repeated the name, which is supposed to be mine, it gradually ingrained itself in my mind.

Place: ???

???: It is about time for you to wake up.

The story, you are taking place in, starts after the supreme ruler dies.

And soon, three different families will start a battle for you.

Monologue

Those prophetic words of wisdom he just said… I will cherish them as if they’re from the man I don’t remember the name of...

I will never doubt his words. After all, I still don’t know what this so-called “battle” will be about to begin with.

Which means, this said indestructible fiction has to eventually become true.

Place: ???

???: Let there be light...

Monologue

The same moment he said that, a ray of light appeared above my head. It might’ve been a weak one, but it wasn’t an illusion.

I tried reaching for that light.

And when I did so, I heard the beginning of a new game.

Place: Church — Inside

Yui: Nn...

(Ah, wait… where am I...?)

(There are huge statues lined up… they have the shapes of horses and towers, they actually look a lot chess pieces)

(And there are some beautiful stained glass windows in front of me too…)

(This building appears to be quite old, but it's not in bad conditions, it seems to be rather well maintained)

It gives off some kind of sacred atmosphere…

(If that’s so, could this place be… a church… ?)

(And if it is, was I sleeping on the… altar just now?)

But why am I even in this place to begin with… ?

*church bell rings*

Yui: Kyaaa!?

Was that the church bell… ? That really scared me…

???: It appears as if the seal has finally been broken. You made me wait quite a long time for your arrival.

Yui: Pardon… ?

Man with glasses: It was just as the folklore said, although your timing is quite inappropriate, but this does not matter.

As long as you were here in this church, there should be no mistake.

Yui: W-Who are you… ?

Yui: (He has a good appearance and he acts very polite, but the sharp look in his eyes is really scary)

Man with glasses: I will be leaving my introductions for later. Unfortunately, there is no time for me to do so now. You will have to come with me to our mansion first.

Yui: What do you mean by “mansion”... ? No, where even is this place anyway? And for what reason am I here—

Man with glasses: I see, it appears… as if “you do not know anything”.

*Reiji comes closer*

Yui: Kyaa!? L-Let me go!

Man with glasses: For now, I am unaware of you either acting or you speaking the truth.

But no matter what it is, that does not change the fact that you will be coming with me.

Yui: (Is he kidnapping me!? If so, I have to run away! But, the strength of his arm is so strong that I can’t seem to escape… ngh)

???: I can’t believe you’d ever do something this cruel to a girl.

*throws dagger*

Man with glasses: — Ngh!?

Man with fedora: You ended up narrowly dodging it just now. As expected from you, Reiji.

Yui: (Did a dagger just fly past me!? And the person who threw it was him… ?)

Reiji: Haa… as expected, there obviously are others who thought about the same thing as I did.

Not only did Laito, the messenger of the Violets, come here… but you also brought Kou along with you.

Kou: Ahha, so you did discover me. And here I thought I did a great job hiding my presence.

Yui: (Now there’s another person holding a dagger in front of me…)

(So the one currently holding my arm is called Reiji-san… and if I understood it correctly, those next to me are Laito-san and Kou-san?)

Kou: Say, can’t you simply give Eve to us? Carla-kun really wants her, you know.

Reiji: I refuse to do so. That is most certainly because I will be the next successor to become the supreme ruler.

Laito: Scarlet’s eldest son is really stingy, hm? Eve-chan’s surely thinking so too, right?

Yui: Eve…

(Oh, yeah, that’s my name… how come I forget that just now?)

(These people are the ones who are going to fight for Eve… for me, to be precise)

Reiji: If possible, I would have liked to finish this peacefully, but it cannot be helped if you are going to obstruct my way…

You should step back a little.

Yui: Ah…

*Reiji draws swords*

Reiji: Then I will be your opponent.

Laito: Oh? Now, isn’t that something? You’re behaving like a knight wanting to protect the princess.

Kou: True, true. After all, it’s already been decided that Eve will come to our mansion.

Say, Eve. That’s correct, right?

Yui: E-Even if you tell me that, I still don’t know anything about you…

Kou: You could learn plenty of us if you’d come with us then. With us, to our mansion, what do you think?

Yui: (This can’t be real, just what did I get myself into…)

*someone grabs Yui*

Yui: Ouch… !?

(Did someone just pull my arm!?)

???: The only one you’re going with is Yours Truly himself. You’ve got no other option than that anyway.

I’ll promise to treat you tenderly if you come with me. At least until I get bored, of course.

Yui: (Now there’s another person I don’t know… !)

Laito: Eh, you’ve come here too, Ayato?

Reiji: The third son of the Orange family… so in the end, it appears as if all of you invited themselves here, hm?

Eve has merely awakened, and the three families have already come here.

Yui: (Three families… ?)

Ayato: The seal of the church has been broken, so it’s obvious that I’d come to check out the situation.

And it was the right choice to come in here after all. It’s just exactly as the tradition says.

Yui: (Tradition, he says…)

Kou: “After the death of the supreme ruler, the seal of the church will be broken.”

“And if the sleeping Eve is woken up by a kiss, a new way will be open for a new supreme ruler”... isn’t that right?

Laito: It’s at least as the tradition of the sleeping princess says.

Yui: (A seal… tradition… and a supreme leader? I don’t understand, what are they talking about… ?)

Reiji: Apparently, you seem as if you do not understand any of what we are discussing indeed.

Kou: You’re acting as if you weren’t even aware of being Eve.

Ayato: Eh? Gimme a break already. Just how long do you think I’ve been waiting for you to come here!?

Laito: Well, she has been sleeping all this time, so it can’t be helped, right?

Seems as if we have to slowly fill you in with what’s necessary to know after this.

But in order for us to do that, we first of all have to get you out of this place.

Yui: Nn... !

(Did the atmosphere between those four just change… ?)

(They’re glaring at each other, and it almost feels as if their eyes are glowing. It might just be my imagination, but I feel as if their eyes are shining bright red…)

(No, more importantly, don’t tell me that the weapons they’re holding are real…)

Reiji: Shall we begin then?

Ayato: Tch, you’re finally speaking my language.

Kou: I wonder who’ll be the one obtaining Eve?

Laito: I guess this is the beginning of our battle—

Yui: Battle… !? Don’t tell me you’re seriously going—

*swords clash*

Yui: (The four of them are really clashing their swords with each other… no, I’m wrong—)

(I can only see three people fighting. Which means, one of them is missing… !)

*someone grabs Yui*

Yui: Kyaa!? W-Who is it? Please… let me go!

Monologue

Before I even became aware of it, there was a shadow approaching me.

I tried my very best to resist, but “his” arm wouldn’t let go of me for even a second.

I knew I got herewith captured by somebody.

And the one who caught me was—

#Diabolik Lovers #diabolik lovers translation #chaos lineage translation #chaos lineage #rejet #diabolik lovers chaos lineage #diabolik lovers reiji #reiji sakamaki #laito sakamaki #kou mukami #ayato sakamaki #diabolik lovers chaos lineage translation #Diabolik Lovers game #Diabolik Lovers game #otome game translation #otome game

132 notes · View notes

uwua3 · 3 years

Note

Yo! Can i ask for a cute Pirate AU with an adventure seeking MC pirate captain, who, when she and her crew are making a stop at some port, meets her childhood friend, Tenma, with whom she has romantic tension, only Tenma is a big blushing tsundere mess, and MC is verrrryyy oblivious to his blushiness, but accidentally innocently flirts with him?? If that makes sense? Also oops the soldiers have seen me, the wanted pirate, wanna get out of here and join my crew?

summary: a deal is made between a pirate captain haunted by their legacy and an island medium who wants to go home

warnings: alcohol, death (mentions), cops/police, crime, fights (physical/arguments), fires, ghosts, military, near–death experiences, pirates, slow-burn, swords, unrequited love/love triangle

author’s note: thank you so much for your patience requesting this pirate story~ i did my best to do this justice, as i love pirates more than anything! .*:ﾟ（｀・ω・´）ゝﾟ:*. this was a jolly good time to write, thank you! (please let me know if you would like a part 02 to this, as it ran longer than expected)! thank you!! :D

word count: 6,163

music: ship in a bottle – fin

captain, let’s make a deal.

☀️🌻 sumeragi tenma

even out at sea, you couldn’t escape the fire that destroyed your town years ago. the fire that made you become a pirate captain

you were born by a local village by the coast, where the air tasted like salt no matter what and trade was your community’s main economy

it was home. a place where everyone knew each other as family, where the sun was hot upon even warmer smiles and the euphoric laughter of children surrounded the island. this was the land of the happy, the free, and the united

it wasn’t until the damn navy—your first enemy until death—came

according to heresay, pirates were supposed to plunder and pillage without mercy. pirates were the villain and yet, what would the navy be then? after what they did to you, they were anything but heroes

yonaguni was made of tall palm trees that provided shade during the eternal summer that sunburnt your skin, floating markets by the pier with tricky elderly and learning apprentinces in the family business, and rare wildlife not found anywhere else

now, it was nothing more than hell. you could remember it all—how the flames licked the open wounds from navy seamen, the screams of the innocent replacing what would’ve been last words meant for decades later, the sound of crashing trees blocking every available escape route as birds flew away in the distance

you were just a yonaguni native, and now, there was nothing left of your hometown. it was permanently erased from world history forever, and you were the sole survivor of the island, making you the most wanted vigilante alive

it had been years since you last had a nightmare of the attack. was haunting your brain and traumautizing you for life during every waking hour not enough?

but, you knew the answer why you couldn’t stop mourning the loss of yonaguni

it was nearing the anniversary of your friend, sumeragi tenma’s, death

and, as you climbed to the crow’s nest with the power of the ocean running through your salted veins and spite overwhelming you in the deepest, darkest parts of yourself, you could see it over the horizon

the navy said dead men tell no tales, but you were alive, and you would be a legend

“all hands ahoy or you’ll be given no quarter!” (everyone on deck or you’ll be shown no mercy)

“aye, captain!” your crew replied eagerly, their loyalty unwavering and strong as always. you stood atop of the main mast, surrounded by vast ocean bordering a blue, cloudless sky. even without your telescope, you could see everything in the world

beneath you sounded the swing of the lines (rope) against the wind before two feet landed in the crow’s nest. the sailor had the type of agility that only came from a boy born on sea

“cap, don’t tell me ya forgot about me?” your quartermaster, rurikawa yuki, grinned (a rare sight that only came when the ocean smelt strongest of salt and treasure), standing at the ledge whilst holding onto the lines with one hand. any other novice would’ve immediately fallen off with how strong the random gusts of wind were, but yuki was an enigma and your second in command for a reason

“ahoy, yuki! so long as the jolly rodger waves, this crew will always be ready to set sail.” you responded, sliding down the mast to be in the crow’s nest as well. yuki just rolled his eyes, crossing his arms and leaning upon your frame like it was nothing

“don’t hornswaggle (cheat) me, cap. what are you thinking about?” yuki read you like a map, as expected of the second best cartographer (after master boatswain muku, of course) in all the seven seas. you tried to remain present in the moment, with the wind flowing and sky clear, but it wasn’t enough

“... tell me, yuki. is it so easy to read the distraught upon my face?” you joked, but it fell flat as yuki raised an unimpressed eyebrow at your facade. yuki didn’t take bullshit from anyone, not even his own captain

“aye, do not be acting as if you’re feeding the fish (about to die), captain.” yuki carefully watched if any of their small crew was eavesdropping, but the rest were doing their proper tasks for the morning. cartographer muku was happily reading directions to helmsman misumi. the two were a fantastic pair, considering the “sky” ship hasn’t sunken

surgeon kazunari was dutifully sanitizing his medical tools besides them, taking some time to laugh loudly at some story misumi was dramatically reenacting as he spun the wheel skillfully

“boom about!” yuki called out without looking away, already feeling it in his bones moments before anyone else could. his intuition was unheard of, and you watched no one hesitate as they ducked just in time

“sorry~!” misumi responded without any apologetic tone to his voice whatsoever. his sailor’s grin was infectious and wide, a smile only those accustomed to the fatal winds and waves of the ocean could make. just like everyone else on the “sky” ship, they all were forged by the sea

“smartly make way to land before i toss you off myself!” yuki snapped, but it held no malice. he rolled his eyes unimpressed when kazunari laughed at misumi’s sarcastic salute, knowing pirates did no such navy thing without mockery

“oh, dear yuki, how could i drown with you by my side?” you reached over to ruffle his hair, the precarious creak of the wooden mast the last thing on your mind as yuki swatted at your hand, irritated by the littlest of things as always

“you’re right, i’ll have your head first anyways.” yuki said with no malice, giving you a small frown as his calculating eyes glanced over you once more, trying to find any cracks in your confident visage. when he found nothing, he climbed back down, seemingly unsatisfied when you didn’t break under his stare

(you were one of the few on the crew who didn’t flinch. the other was misumi, who just had no fear towards anything, so it wasn’t personal. after all, misumi was the finest swashbuckler around!)

ahead, your acute sight narrowed in on the growing formation in the distance, your gut tensing before realizing it was far too large to be another ship

with a grin, you hanged over the edge (a habit that no longer scares your crew), your voice amplified as it was carried downward by the wind. it was to be expected, of course, as a yonaguni native, your town always had a special connection to nature that no one else did

“my men, turn your heads and look forward into the horizon! what do you see?”

“land, captain!”

“then let us sail faster! the sooner we reach the shores, the quicker you all can take a damn shower!”

with a shared lighthearted laugh, everyone focused on their role and position towards the land mass ahead. whether it was the possibility of smelling like something else other than a siren’s cove or something more, you smiled, forgetting about last night’s sleepless disturbances

up ahead was fukusaki, sky crew’s next location for the night

after three months or so on sea, your crew’s resources were dwindling (much faster since everyone had a bottomless appetite). it was time to visit a port town to stock up and set sail the next sunrise

sure, it was a rushed habit of yours, but it was never good to stay in one place for too long. that came with the risk of losing again...

besides, who liked a crew of pirates to suddenly come to the town square in their stained clothing and gleaming swords?

after barely securing a place to tie down the great beauty known as “sky”, entering fukusaki was like any other town. merchants upon the docks were experts at haggling prices, civilians went by with their day to day life, and the sun burned everyone’s skin just the same

but as you placed your leather boot upon the wooden dock, something inside you turned. like something had suddenly shifted in the town but you had no idea what

yuki seemed to have felt the same thing, even if his facial expression didn’t change. as kazunari kept muku from fighting with a seller for a map of the local area (misumi was unfortunately encouraging him), yuki inched closer to you, his brows furrowed

“you feel that? something isn’t right.” yuki bluntly stated, eyes scanning his surroundings like usual. except he didn’t know what he was looking for, so a frustrated sigh left his lips

“aye, feels as if someone’s running a rig (playing a trick) on us...” you murmured under your breath, careful not to alarm the returning muku with haughtiness ablaze in his eyes and sheepishness from an apologizing but relieved kazunari (it was hard to believe muku used to be shy prior to joining)

“keep a look out. let you know if somethin’s amiss.” yuki peeled away, checking in with muku asking where the closest tavern was. at the mention of alcohol, misumi jumped in, rambling about how he had already talked to a local about all the best spots

you took a moment to take a deep breath in, the scent of palm trees and fruit replacing your usual endless seas. it wasn’t unsettling, just new. your sea legs itched to return to somewhere always changing, always new, but you knew you couldn’t do that to your friends

you straightened your back and walked with the confidence of a true pirate captain, swinging both your arms around kazunari and misumi, peering down at the map with an easy smile

“alright my hearties, where to?”

this gut feeling could wait, you had a few hours to relax before everything turned upside down

of course the captain got the most inconvenient yet boring jobs that could’ve been assigned

(yuki didn’t look sorry as he happily enjoyed your childish huff at being the grocery shopper, knowing how much you hated to interact with people outside of the crew)

due to your very limited people skills, you awkwardly tried to summon your confidence to come back around all the fukusaki shop vendors. when you were with your crew, all eyes were on you and how high your head was held. but, when alone... a captain was nothing without its crew, you supposed

a messily scrawled list by kazunari was in your hand (never ask a doctor to write anything) as you tried to decipher the words, holding it up to the sun to figure out what the hell he wanted

after getting the main idea of what each person wanted within budget, you stood on the outskirts of the town square, desperately trying to decide what was the best way to approach this situation

you couldn’t appear helpless or confused! how were you supposed to haggle in this state of mind?! as you slowly spun around in a circle to view all of the sellers before settling on a rather small, unimpressive stand

maybe that meant cheaper prices! you thought cleverly, walking over with the poise of a seasoned native. with a neutral expression, you reached a wooden display with a certain swagger to your step

however... there was nothing. as you stood in the front of the set-up and realized no one was there, you couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow. what kind of service was this? was there no one actually here to sell anything?

before you could leave, a flash of orange appeared in front of you, purple eyes wide as if surprised they even received a customer. “w-wait!” he called out, nearly falling over his own table. this kid would clearly not make it upon a ship, you thought

for whatever reason, you stopped, looking over your shoulder with an unimpressed expression at the simple boy. he was tall and lean, wearing a bandana around his orange hair and an unbuttoned shirt. it was a casual appearance unfit for a merchant

“what is it? i’ve got places to be and there’s nothing here to be sold.” you stated, a wave of shock passing over his face before solidifying in a stubborn crease in his forehead

“huh? what are you talking about? haven’t you come here to get rid of that?”

when he reached out, you jolted back, a surge of energy visible in your body. you felt that strongly, what the hell did this random merchant do to you?!

“w—calm down! stop moving or i can’t remove the yokai! you’re making this difficult.” he demanded roughly, his proper words clipped from an accent unlike any other on this island. there was a certain... twang, to his vocabulary. as if it didn’t sit right, as if it was on the tip of his tongue

so much for customer service! you didn’t listen, dodging his hand like your life depended on it. as you ducked beneath his arm, you gripped his bicep with a death glare. at your narrowed eyes, the orange-haired boy gulped and stared back with astonishment

clearly, fukusaki natives weren’t this rude

“yokai? what the hell are you blubberin’ about, kid?” you questioned, your patience thin like a century-old rope worn down by salt. he set his lips in a straight line, as if trying to assess if you were serious or not. when you didn’t budge, he yanked his arm back and rubbed the sore spot, giving in

“ghosts. you got more spirits than normal around you, they’ve been there for a long time.”

you were about to retort, but fell silent at the remembrance of yonaguni. had your ancestors been with you all this time? you almost couldn’t believe you’ve been actually haunted by their deaths for this long

“i have no ghosts. do not try to scam me.” you flatly said before turning on your heel, intent on leaving the possibility of ghosts behind before tenma took a hold on your arm this time

“but, they’re trying to tell you—”

before tenma could finish, an irritated and offended voice boomed just down the cobblestone pathway

“you dare lay your hand on our captain?!”

“yuki, wait!” the crew clambered after him, hands always short of his shirt fabric as yuki’s sword made a sickening sound when pulled out of its sheath. the orange-haired boy let go immediately, attempting to make a run for it before coming face to face with misumi, whose previous smile was cold and nonexistent

it was as if the other merchants disappeared, fearing a start of a fight would be terrible for business. tenma was caught in the middle of a 5-person circle, with yuki pointing the tip of his sword at his throat

“state your name and business for grabbing our captain like that!” yuki was adamant on proving his sword was real by putting it closer to the boy’s adam’s apple. he tried not to shake under the pressure, but you noticed how his feet had no shoes and looked ready to run to anywhere but here

“um... t—johnny. it’s johnny, and i simply belong to a family of fukusaki mediums, that’s all.” johnny(?) said, as if trying to convince himself. all of you secretly exchanged a look, trying to decide whether or not to believe this so-called johnny

“you see ghosts?” yuki scoffed, his position already clear on the issue. ever since you two have met, you knew yuki never believed in anything involving the supernatural. after all, so many mysteries were hidden in the ocean, yuki doubted anything could scare him on land

but, you... you’re starting to believe johnny as you notice his eyes waver towards you. maybe not so much you, but whatever was surrounding you

“yes, sir. i can communicate with them as well. ever since i was a young boy, i’ve brought peace to the dead.” your head snapped towards him at that, something inside of you turning

that boy could bring your ancestors peace? could it be too good to be true? as if hearing your thoughts, johnny nodded to reaffirm your beliefs

before anyone else can join in on the questioning, you held your hand up and everyone fell silent, waiting for your next words. you could easily tell yuki to kill this boy and he would... but you won’t

“how much are your services?”

johnny blinked, clearly not used to this question as he mentally calculated whatever in his head. “uh... i usually don’t get paid.”

“if we took you on your ship, how much then?” (you immediately hushed a protesting yuki and wary crew)

“my payment wouldn’t be money.” johnny quickly said, almost shocking himself with how fast that answer came. you raised an eyebrow at that, about to question his terms before muku turned, eyebrows furrowed

“there’s someone coming.” muku whispered in a hush, immediately on guard as everyone shifted to a defensive position. at the first sound of a boot on ground, kazunari’s eyes widened. a telltale sign of the cop’s traditional uniform, which kazunari knew better than most

“go! go! go!” you ordered, everyone taking off running. without thinking, you took a hold of johnny’s hand. he squeezed it without flinching, turning and impressively staying by your side even as you got faster and faster

you were fast, but you despised running with a passion. if you closed your eyes longer than a blink, you could almost smell the smoke and crack of the tree trunks. for some reason, johnny smelt like coconut, and that humored you to a certain extent as your crew ran for their lives from the officers. someone must’ve alerted local authorities nearby...

even with a map, muku was lost to the island’s complex system. despite being quick on his feet, muku’s eyes frantically analyzed the outdated lines and pressed his lips into a straight line out of frustration. you knew you should’ve stepped in, but what could you have done?

“follow me!” johnny whispered hurriedly, turning into a waypoint before stopping and looking back. your crew subconsciously looked towards you as well, as if asking if this fukasaki native was trustworthy

though, it’s not like you had a choice now

you ran with johnny, the rest of your crew following suit. when you reached a dead end, you expected this to be a mistake before johnny nimbly flung himself up the ivy-covered wall, landing with a hard thud as if he hadn’t done so in a long time. ignoring the pain, johnny extended his hand an impressive height away

“grab my hand and we’ll be free!” pirates weren’t one to say no to freedom (or put all their coins in one chest...), so you got down to provide a boost to your crew mates. it wasn’t a time to be noble, so they all took your support without complaining, easily being able to run past johnny

when it was your turn, the sound of polished boots grew increasingly closer, much to your chagrin. you backed up quietly, gulping and trying not to look behind you as you glanced up. both johnny and yuki were standing there, their hands extended as you got a running start

you closed your eyes, breathed in the imaginary smoke, and leaped, feeling the grip of both their hands upon yours as they helped you up. just as you ducked beneath the foliage, you breathed a sigh of relief as the officers ran by without sparing a second look

when you opened your eyes, you noticed johnny was still holding your hand, his fist tight around yours as you could practically feel his heartbeat through leaning on his shoulder

you got up to thank johnny before noticing yuki’s uncharacteristic quietness and the way his eyes looked between you and johnny... as if he was betrayed

you didn’t think more of it despite the sinking feeling in your stomach

it was a night to celebrate! escaping the cops was no easy feat, especially on a foreign island. your crew, who had taken a liking to johnny’s ability to hold his own, invited him to drinks (not that they needed guidance to the safest tavern, of course...)

you nursed your own drink of choice at a rickety table with the crew, watching as they became less like pirates and more like their own ages with a few drinks and good music. yuki didn’t drink, which was something that had always occurred no matter where they went

johnny was flustered under all the attention, or it was the alcohol everyone insisted he could keep down. you stifled a chuckle when kazunari hooked his arm around tenma’s neck and ruffled his hair, the look upon his face priceless

you took a sip before lowering the cup’s rim, noticing yuki’s wary gaze. he met your eye with a frown, as if hesitating on what to say next. once again, how strange

“captain,” at that, you tried not to outwardly wince. it wasn’t common for yuki to be so... formal with you, at least. “do you truly intend on bringing this stranger with us?”

“johnny is no stranger anymore, yuki. he saved our lives, we are indebted to him.” you flatly said, glancing at johnny once more. yuki huffed, clearly disagreeing with your opinion as he rolled his eyes

“we would’ve been just fine without him. plus, he’s a medium! how do you know he’s the real deal, anyways?”

“i just... know.” you tried to elaborate, but it fell on deaf ears. there were some parts of your past you just couldn’t elaborate on, some parts that wouldn’t make sense to a non-yonaguni native

yuki slammed his water on the wooden table, a sound barely distinguishable in the rowdy atmosphere before getting up with a skid of the stool. he silently left, no doubt heading back to the docks where the stars shined the brightest and moon made things shrouded in dark more visible

you got up and followed without speaking another word. the crew knew disagreements between you & yuki were far and few, so there was no time to ask silly questions

when you reached the outside, the salt in the air and muffled sound of everyone having fun made you stop. behind you, you noticed the door didn’t slam completely as a quick-footed pair of feet made their way besides you

“are... you okay?” johnny asked, his hands in his linen pockets as you exhaled, nodding as you leaned onto the wall. johnny stiffly stood by the door, as if guarding it

“yeah, yeah. i am... just a little tussle, that’s all.” you sounded as if you were trying to convince yourself, but neither of you pointed it out. a few moments of awkward silence passed, before johnny cleared his throat

“okay, i didn’t hear nothin’. just... heard the spirits around you get loud.”

there he went again about the ghosts and spirits! you subconsciously patted your hair down flat, turning to look at johnny with yuki-like skepticism in your narrowed eyes

“how can you see there are ghosts on me? how do i know you’re not pullin’ my leg?” you suspiciously questioned, watching as johnny bristled under the attention. it seemed as if the island natives didn’t question his credibility as a medium

“you know i’m right. you have tens, maybe more, spirits attached to you. i can help you take them away, for a price, of course.”

“which is?”

“i want to find an island lost to me long ago.”

if you blinked, you could’ve sworn you were talking to a past-version of yourself. why did that request seem so familiar?

“do you know its name?”

“nay... my family refuses to tell me anything about where i’m from. all i know is the navy is the reason i lost my parents.”

“mine too.” you admitted with a breath and the conversation paused, you two sharing an understanding expression of sympathy but unshakable faith. you two understood each other despite knowing one another for a few hours

“then, is it settled?” johnny held out his hand, which you took with a firm grip. his palms were soft for an islander, funny enough. he must’ve thought differently since this was one of the few times you took off your leather gloves

“as long as you bring peace to my ancestors, you’re comin’ with me.”

when the hours became late and you ultimately decided everyone passed their limit a long time ago, you and johnny led them all to their barracks with laughs and humor in the air

when you reached the docks, yuki was barely noticeable in the night as he stood upon the mast of the ship, his hair waving in the wind like a flag

he didn’t look at you, not once, so you didn’t climb up. how could you when johnny was holding your hand with his eyes flickering back to you, or whatever was around you?

you introduced johnny to his new quarters and left him to be, feeling free for once in your life that night

morning came with the unfurling of your sails and your position in the crow’s nest. the sky was blue and cloudless, just like everyone predicted as the sea welcomed your crew into its arms

“ahoy, my hearties! off we go to find our next treasure!” you commanded joyously, the crew hurrah-ing in return at your enthusiasm. like most pirates did, your crew’s goal when off-land was to find a ship to rob and make off with their goods

you turned to the side, about to say something before realizing yuki wasn’t next to you. he must’ve slept in, that’s all. you didn’t question it even if he was always on time the years you knew him

disguising your expression of disappointment, you left your crew to their own means, sliding down the mast as per usual. when you landed, you noticed johnny standing awkwardly to the side as everyone was doing their own job

“hey, johnny! what are you muckin’ around for?” you questioned lightheartedly, slamming your freshly-shined boots (after an unfortunate drunk throw-up incident) upon the oak boards. johnny flinched from the sound, unaccustomed to the constantly-busy atmosphere of a large ship

“do you... need any help? i kinda, feel guilty just lazing about in my quarters.” johnny confessed, a red flush against his face as he rubbed the back of his permanently-sunburned neck. you were taken back for a moment, not used to being offered help

“um... you seem to know how to throw a person off their rhythm! i have nothing on mind as of now, hmmm....” after much consideration, you snapped your fingers with a start. “perhaps consider shadowing me for today! get the feel of a captain’s life—”

“no need, captain. i will take him off your hands for you.”

you turned to see yuki besides you, his feet silent and eyes attentive as always. you sensed the tension still imbedded between you two, gulping as you tugged at the collar of your shirt. for some reason, you immediately felt disappointed at the missing opportunity of tenma being with you

why were you feeling this way?! there was no reason to think like that as a busy, efficient pirate captain!

“thank you, yuki. return him in one piece, alright?” you joked, turning away to review what needed to be done that day. as you left, you didn’t notice yuki place a cold grip on johnny’s shoulder with an uncharacteristically eerie stoic pose

johnny looked after you, wondering what was behind that shroud of spirits who wanted nothing more than to see you freed of them

“you’re quite lucky the captain has taken quite a liking to you, johnny, was it?”

yuki & johnny found themselves ending the ship’s tour in the underground of the main deck, located along the cannons placed in their corresponding holes. the smell of gunpowder and flint was nearly suffocating, but yuki moved with ease and seemed to revel in johnny’s tight expression

“y-yes... the captain is very kind and charitable to take me on board.” johnny managed to get out without coughing, his eyes inspecting the materials and wondered how loud it truly was during battle

“you agreed to come so soon. you have no family of your own?” yuki asked innocently, mindlessly fixing the placements of the bombs behind the barrels. johnny shook his head, explaining it wasn’t an emotional attachment he had to fukusaki

“how... suspiciously fortunate.” yuki deadpanned, suddenly whipping around with a blank stare. it caught johnny off guard, who nearly stumbled back into a cannon. yuki wasn’t armed, but his tense demeanor and personality change was jarring

“listen, kid, i’ve got no clue who you are, but you have no reason to be upon this ship.” with every word, yuki seemed to come closer until his pointer finger pushed in the center of johnny’s chest

“you may have fooled everyone else, but our captain has always been too naive. i see right through you, johnny. who are you, really?”

johnny shuddered, backed against the wall and desperately holding onto anything that can keep his wobbly legs up. he didn’t know if it was the rocky seas or yuki’s simmering anger, but he felt like he was staring straight into one of those cannons

“i’m johnny, an island medium who sees ghosts on your captain. it is my duty to let them go, that’s all.”

a moment passed, before yuki took a few steps back. before johnny could react, he found the tip of a real sword pointed at his neck once again

“you’re lying, i know it. do not make me ask you again, who are you?”

johnny tried to remain placid in the face of a weapon, but he gritted his teeth and couldn’t help himself

“why the hell does it matter to you? are you in love with your captain or something?!”

silence, then yuki lowered his sword. he sheathed it back, before turning and leaving without another word. johnny let out a deep breath, sinking to the floor as he closed his eyes

if johnny listened hard enough, he could hear your spirits try to communicate with him. but, their voices were garbled and unlike anything he’s heard before. who were you and why was he here?

the first time you & johnny met in terms of spirits was two weeks after a pattern of sleepless nights

he already found you teetering close to the edge, your hands folded as you searched for something, or someone, past the blackened seas

it was as if some savage sea monster had spilt its ink-like blood into the waters, the once blue surface that reflected lucky skies now murky and as mysterious as the dark side of the moon

with your usual guarded glint now gone, you still seemed just as capable to be the one responsible for such dark seas

“good evening.” johnny mumbled lowly, placing the lantern besides his feet as he made his way next to you. you hummed, not particularly fazed by his sudden appearance despite not paying attention. it’s as if you had eyes in the back of your head, like a sea monster

“i suppose fukusaki isn’t used to the rocking of wooden ships?” you retorted, to which johnny sharply exhaled through his nose, a sign of amusement at your observation

“nay, but... i haven’t been able to properly maintain my sleep schedule ever since boarding. your spirits... are rather loud for ghosts.”

you full-on laughed at this, disturbing the intimate atmosphere between you two. johnny couldn’t help but smile at your worn-down exterior. you presented yourself like you were made of a glass bottle, but you were as intricate as a carved artisan ship

“try living with them your whole life, boy, then you can start complaining about their volume.” you jested lightheartedly, offering a soft smile at the newest recruit. as you leaned back onto the railing of the ship, you watched the constant surface of the waves, as if you could anchor your endless thoughts to davey jone’s locker

johnny mimicked your position, his elbow knocking into yours. his hands were much too soft for a seasoned sailor, you noticed this in the dim lantern light. for a moment, you let your impulses take over and you wondered how they felt against yours

“pardon my words, but when will you let me speak to them? i can never find you through the day...” johnny began to ask, but trailed off when your salted eyes and weariness became apparent in the way you exhaled quietly

“it is not your fault but mine, johnny. this is my ship and i am the captain, that’s all. i cannot allow myself to suddenly become weak in case i am needed.” you spoke like a true hero, well, as much of a hero a pirate could be

johnny didn’t exactly understand, considering he just got up and left his entire life on a whim of a promise to find out who he was. but, he nodded anyways, watching blurred movements of entities swirl around your head like troubled smoke

“what about now? will you let me—?” when johnny reached out, you immediately stepped back, your lips pressed in a straight line as if restraining your true reaction

“you look for every reason to touch me, don’t you?” you tried to force it out like it was nothing, but it was clear how your boots twisted like they were prepared to run away

when was the last time someone physically comforted you in any sense? or... comforted you at all?

“captain...” johnny mumbled, eyes wide with pity and you couldn’t stand it. he called you captain, but he didn’t revere you like a typical person would. he didn’t flinch at your sword or head held high, it was unnerving

“what is the purpose of having a crew if they cannot help you through this?”

the wind wailing against your ears reminded you of how little time there was in a day, and how the sun would rise soon and this cycle of pretending everything was okay would begin again

it was maddening, to live the same day again and again with no change

johnny perhaps was someone you looked forward to, a diversion from the expected

“do you consider yourself apart of my crew, then?” when johnny took a moment to think, you wondered what he was remembering. was it the night where misumi pretended to fall over board to scare everyone or was it when kazunari didn’t react to seeing a skeleton that time? was it when muku could predict every type of weather for the next day without fail or when yuki finally cracked at a joke after a hour of pretending nothing was funny?

or, was it when you two shared glances across the deck, clinked your glasses a little too long, or when your hands ghosted over another when pulling lines?

“yes, your crew is my own as well. and like them, i wish to help you, if you’d let me.”

you always found yourself unsure around johnny, unaware of how to respond in a way worthy of your pirate captain title. as you hesitated, johnny looked you in the eyes and his eyes reminded you of storm clouds thundering in the distance

“why else would you take me on the ‘sky’? if you didn’t want help?”

perhaps those were words you would reveal later, but you couldn’t bring yourself to share the real answer. it was a gut feeling that your world would be turned upside down, and you were right when you felt your throat dry at johnny’s hopeful gaze

johnny continued on, straightening his usual bent posture and his voice carried, like he was one with nature. as if they supported him unconditionally

“i know this is your own battle to win and this is your ship and you are my—our captain, but please... let’s make a deal.”

you stood, intrigued, as you witnessed a side of johnny never seen before. once meek, once easily intimidated, now talked to you like an equal

“let’s promise to say things we both really feel. be honest with me, do you want me to help? to remove the spirits and let them move on?” when you nodded, johnny let out a breath of relief and moved closer, gathering your hands in his. when you didn’t pull away and only tensed, he spoke as if he was sure things would change

“i can help you, i can make them go away. you bring me back to my home, i let your spirits go home. deal?”

“is that how you truly feel?”

“and more.” johnny’s eyes glanced down, and you felt your heart stutter as if the surface rocked

“i feel the same way. i wish to help you.”

that night, you remembered for the first time in a long time, a captain was nothing without its crew

#sumeragi tenma #tenma sumeragi #a3! act! addict! actors!#a3!#act! addict! actors!#a3! actor training game #a3! headcanons #act! addict! actors! headcanons #mankai a3!#mankai company #a3! x reader #a3 x reader #tenma x reader #a3! tenma #a3 tenma

50 notes · View notes