#I haven’t forgiven them and I never will because forgiveness means nothing to me | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

sweetswesf · 2 years ago

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Catch Up

Hey, Y’all. It’s been a minute. I’ve been operating on burn out. Been going. And not necessarily getting a lot done. I’m finally losing weight and seeing definition. I’ve been consistent with my workouts and although I haven’t worked a real schedule as if I was working again, I have managed to do at least SOMETHING everyday. There were days in the past where I would get absolutely nothing done. But even if it’s an hour or two, I make sure to do SOMETHING towards interview prep everyday.

I’m a little embarrassed that I am not further along. I don’t consume YouTube as much these days and I just blocked The Shade Room and other Twitter pages I consume heavily. I eat okay. My dad called last week and told me my little brother now wants to code. He suggested to my brother to reach out to me. Many emotions came up. Mostly anger, so I had to cut the convo short. I was angry my father hopped back into communication as if he didn’t hurt me. I was angry he suggested to my brother to reach out to me when my brother has had me blocked and blamed me for why he wasn’t getting opportunities when I set up his LinkedIn page and said I was trying to push him into doing something he didn’t want to do when I suggested he pursue coding.

My family ostracized me, called me all kind of bad names, took his side, told me to help when they saw I was right, never apologized for any of the things they said, and now wants me to help.

As a Christian, I must welcome him with open arms and not hold all that against him. I prayed to be a better person. God is giving me that opportunity. Forgive so that I may be forgiven.

It has got me down, but I need to remember not to get weary in well doing, and that well doing in continuing through the pain and not taking my anger or revenge out.

I had to cut improv guy OFF. Block him. He invited himself to church with me. Trying to give him another “chance”, he targeted my religion and something so sacred to me. I accepted. Then, a whole week later, he says, “Where’s the address? My friend may want to join.”

This triggered me because a lot of my “friends” invite me places or I invite them, and then they bring their partner along either without telling me or they tell me right before when it’s too late or awkward for me to back out. Just tell me you want to bring them. If you NEED them there, then are we really friends? I have trust issues. I have been betrayed so many times and I don’t feel like I give this same energy out to people.

So when this guy did it. I told him I wasn’t cool with it and why I wasn’t. I didn’t trust him and don’t know his friend at all. Didn’t tell me about the friend. This is the first time I’m meeting them in person. If you wanted to go with your friend, just go with them. Do they have an interest in meeting me? Or am I going to be the third wheel you all ignore and use me to show you around?

A lot of people have been playing with my time and emotions. One other dude I got let go with who has been awkwardly trying to hang out but never sets a sure date to meet and then apologizes and promises to meet as if this is something I want when this was what HE wanted and I’m just being nice, had the nerve to say he was lonely and now knows what it feels like to be a “minority” despite being Indian. I immediately called him out on it. He got way too comfortable. I’m so tired of people.

Also, my therapist been getting REAL lazy. She’s postponing our meeting, one meeting she had hella people in the background, another meeting she was at a cafe and had to change to her phone before her laptop died. I mean…

I just keep hearing my grandmother’s words: “You are so sensitive!” And maybe I am, dog! I keep encouraging myself to stay on it though, because there’s always going to be something to piss me off.

My other “friend” who I told y’all I was afraid to call a friend, showed me why I should tread lightly again. I had doubts about her from jump, but she’s been so nice. But when people show you who they are BELIEVE THEM! I had planned to surprise her and take her somewhere and told her to just save the date, but after she read an invitation to something else I sent her but never responded to it, despite us talking many times after that, I just canceled her surprise. I felt bad because I can’t get my money back, but I’m kinda jaded from being nice to people even after they’ve done me wrong. I’m spent.

I even told my pastor friend about the misogynoir, especially with all these Black men who get killed and their old tweets hating black women get exposed. She acknowledged it, but not quite in the way I had hoped. I regretted opening up to her.

Not everyone is going to treat me how I want to be treated or respond in the way I hope they would. I get that. I just would appreciate more validation and security in my relationships.

I just joined a community group of some of the members in my white ass church, and, upon meeting some of the women, they gave me the same look of fear a lot of white people have when you enter their space. I felt SOOOO welcomed. 🙄🙄🙄. Life as a Black woman can be hard. I so bad want to get my life together…but to go where? I miss New York like CRAZY, but there is racism and stupid exclusivity there as well.

I met up with a girl I met through a mutual acquaintance. She locked arms with me on NYE and walked and chatted with me for BLOCKS in the cold! I thought we were vibing. We exchanged numbers. She put the wrong number in my phone. It was off a number. I thought it was possibly a mistake. I went through 2 people to get her number. I finally got it. I hit her up to schedule something. She seemed ready, but had no suggestions on what we should do. I figured it would go bad at that point. And sure enough. Not only was she late but it was almost as if she was extremely shy. Like girl, you were all up under my arm all night. And no, she wasn’t intoxicated that first night (I don’t think). We eventually talked a bit more fluidly and she even mentioned sharing food “the next time”. So, idk, but it definitely left me feeling like a lot of people don’t deserve my time and generosity and that I should stop inviting people and only take invites right now.

I thought I’d volunteer weekly, but life been lifing. I met a woman last time and she was excited to exchange numbers and hold each other accountable. She’s from Brooklyn, so she’s been following up better. She gets it. She was just hella weirdly bossy volunteering and physically moved me to the point where I thought I would have to say something or get physical back. And I keep letting this stuff happen. Turning the other cheek because I am trying to give people grace and also control my temper better. I really be wanting to let people have it, but I know God is going to reward my patience. I read a scripture recently: only say good and helpful things. I’m trying.

Through all of this, you CANNOT say I don’t “put myself out there” or TRY! I be trying! It’s something about here dude…idk…

I also have been craving romantic intimacy with a man, but a lot of men, especially the ones I seem to attract, are EMBAARRRRRAASSSINNGGG!!! Every dream recently has been about me being intimiate with some dude from my past. I met a dude on Hinge last week. He was not gorgeous, just okay. He were quested to FT. First red flag. Just take me out. Don’t do none of this weird BS. Take the EXPECTED risk that comes with dating someone online, especially since YOU swiped right on me. Then his first date invitation was ice cream at night. Pardon my French, but I AINT NO ICE CREAM BITCH! Take me out to dinner! I entertained the FT and the invitation, but knew I was lowering my standards HEAVILY! So something in my mind said “SABOTAGE IT!” And I did. I asked him why ice cream and not dinner. He gave some stupid response that all seemed to revolve around what HE wanted. If you can’t afford dinner, or you’re tired of it not going beyond dinner, maybe you don’t need to date. You can pick a cheap spot. You think imma walk around in the cold at night on our first date because you “think it lends to better conversation”? If you struggle with coming up topics at the dinner table, improve your conversation skills, go out with someone you’re interested in getting to know, or put your ego aside and recognize that not every moment needs to be filled with a word! I need to get intimiate with these damn computer science concepts…

My neighbor in the apartment below me said my music was too loud. I felt embarrassed and attacked. Solange’s line about not even being able to be yourself in your home resonates with me heavy. I try harder to be quieter, but I don’t even be loud for that long. Just feels like them being anal and wanting to control something they don’t have control over and feeling like they can do it because I’m Black.

So, tomorrow, I’m going to see a comedian. He interviewed me a while back. I hit up his colleague who helped organize the interview, asking if I could meet him at the show. Haven’t heard back from her yet. In addition to meeting him, I’m hoping to make a huge romantic or career connection with someone the comedian knows. I know my potential is to be with and around powerful people who enjoy my company as much as or more than I enjoy theirs.

I would have loved to show my “friend” this, but I didn’t trust her and if she really betrays me, I don’t want to regret showing her that experience. Maybe that’s petty of me, but I have to protect my heart…it’s been getting beat up and I haven’t been saying anything…

I ate out today and felt so guilt about it. I kept thinking about the money, time, and calories I was wasting. It was good, but I couldn’t allow myself to enjoy it fully. I want to be a good steward of the gifts God gives me and I felt like I was indulging a bit and ignoring priorities.

I’m hoping a REAL break will allow me to reset and refocus. I don’t want to eat out. I don’t meet fake friends or people who are not interested in getting to know me too. I canceled a lot of plans and am opting to do things solo. I can’t wait for a true social group, a close partner bond, a community and city I truly enjoy, and a job I want to work hard for. I’m working at it. Praying for it. Praying that I’m doing and wanting the right things.

All that I want is coming for me. I have to focus on the positives: I’m trying things out, people are swiping right on me, I have my health, I’m looking better, I can still afford to hang out and take people out and do things for them, I don’t have to go home to people that make me sad, angry, or say mean things to me, I can study, I am learning, I am teaching myself, I have Wifi and electricity and water to wash my ass, I do have a lot of people that care for me. I live alone. I can get up and do these things myself. I am just really tired and the road ahead seems long, but I have to believe in me, work hard, face my fears, trust in God, and only fear Him. I pray for forgiveness if I am not representing him well. I should have joy.

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annieintheaair · 3 months ago

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I wanna know how far we'll go before it happens; if there's an expiration date on all the magic. I wanna know that if we make it to the finish that I'll go first, that it won't hurt if I'm not living.

Everything is weird. You’re not here but there are many yous. There’s the you that’s Dan and there’s the you of my last relationship. Somehow, being just Annie, just me, just I, no us, no we, doesn’t feel right. That’s what’s really weird for me — I’ve always been ok just being me, no +1.

I waited until the last minute to start packing. I imagined us living together, as planned, packing for our trip. I stayed up until midnight slowly gathering things to put in my suitcase but it didn’t feel right because I knew we were no longer taking this trip together.

In the morning, I got ready and thought about how I take this trip every year but this year is different— we planned this trip together and now I’m going without you. It just doesn’t feel right.

At the airport, I thought about how we’d probably be at a bar grabbing drinks before our flight. On the flight, some other guy sat in the seat next to me. I automatically didn’t like him because he wasn’t you. He constantly shook his leg and he smelled kind of bad.

Nothing felt right. Landing in NJ, I thought about how last time I did that, we were there together.

I went to dinner that night with my family and there was a mention about how you reached out to me recently. Everyone said to stay away from you, don’t talk to you, and keep you in the past.

After Dan passed away, everyone was quick to tell me how they would have forgiven him and accepted him if I had allowed him back into my life. Dan always said that, too, but I never believed it at the time. Did everyone say this after the fact because they knew it was too late and they’d never have to?

When people are still here, it’s easy to hold grudges and refuse to let go of the past. When someone is gone, you really have no choice but to let it all go. Forgiveness comes easy when someone has died.

For those still here, forgiveness feels more difficult. I consider myself to be a very forgiving person and feel like I have already forgiven my exes for the things they did, just like I forgave Dan after all of the things he ever did to me. Withholding forgiveness doesn’t help you. When I tried to see silver linings after Dan was gone, I at least felt better knowing that at the time he died, he knew I had forgiven him.

When I wanted to say so much in response to my family at dinner that night, I kept it in and didn’t react instead. Forgiveness isn’t theirs to give, but mine. The ways I hurt, still hurt at times, but that doesn’t mean that I haven’t forgiven you.

We made the drive the next day to Martha’s Vineyard. To get there, we have to drive through Rhode Island— Providence in particular, and I have so many mixed emotions being there. I remember, for years, we’d drive through and my heart just ached. I’d get sick to my stomach thinking about Dan and who he was with after me. These days, I drive through, taking in all of the nostalgia. Some things look the same and never change, but the city is ever changing— new buildings, new roads, and I’m sure lots of new people.

Someone, much like myself, is about to embark on their college journey at JWU within the next few weeks. Maybe they’ll meet a cute future chef at Snowden dining hall that first night after their parents drop them off. If Ultra is still there, or maybe a new club in the same location, they’ll share their first kiss on the dance floor and they’ll change each other’s lives forever.

The way the highway forms around the city, like a great big hug, has me feeling like I’m home again every time I’m there. I think about it often, how it would be nice to pickup a work trip and visit but then again, there’s no one there that I want to see anymore. Maybe there’s a weird part of me that thinks Dan is hiding in the city somewhere and if I go back, I’ll find him, but I know that’s not reality.

After a day of driving, we finally made it to Woods Hole to get on the ferry. It was drizzling a little and it was a cooler, somewhat gloomy day. Either way, I was excited to be away from work for a bit and back to a place that knows me so well.

Happy place— it has always been my happy place. The worries of the world kind of disappear while I’m there. Maybe that makes me irresponsible in a way or maybe it makes me more relaxed. I’m really not sure.

The year Dan died, I didn’t get to go to Martha’s Vineyard but I went to The Cape for a weekend after my cousin’s wedding. I went the year after he died and now again, here we are, almost two years later.

I felt like I really checked out for the week. I didn’t talk to many friends or think about work much. Every once in a while, I was reminded that going home eventually not only meant going back to work but getting back to my house and having to deal with all of the unpacking and my Honda Civic, that was having issues before I left for my trip. Why is life so full of problems in the real world? Being on Martha’s Vineyard makes me feel safe, like the island protects me from the realities of the world.

I concluded my trip on Tuesday evening, taking an outdoor shower under the stars. I kept seeing shadows, like maybe Dan was there with me. I looked up, and there was one overly bright star. I imagined that it was him, up there in heaven, watching over me.

We went to a Vineyard Sound concert earlier in the evening and one of the eight guys said he was from Winchester. I thought he reminded me of Dan’s childhood friend, CJ. I felt like I should be cheering in the crowd when the guy introduced himself and his hometown but what would I say? That the love of my life, who died almost two years ago, was also from there?

I wish, everyday, that there was some way to bring Dan back. If I had to give up 10 or 20 years of my life to have him here with me, I would. They say life is short but I feel like life is incredibly long for those of us who have lost someone we love.

I constantly wonder if I’ll ever find happiness again. I want to be with someone who I know, without a shadow of a doubt, loves me. I want to see it in their eyes everyday.

I saw the movie, It Ends With Us, the other night. I mentally prepared myself for it because everyone said there were domestic violence scenes that they couldn’t watch. Am I desensitized? I watched the whole movie just fine. Not that I didn’t see anything wrong but I didn’t feel like anything in the movie was so bad to let go of someone without giving them the opportunity to change. I felt like the male main character would possibly change after the movie. I haven’t read the books so I’m not sure what happens in the second book but I doubt the female lead would end up taking him back.

I recognize that forgiveness doesn’t mean taking people back after they hurt you, and although that can be a result of forgiveness, it isn’t required. I wish people could be more honest about what they want. Why did you reach out to me recently? Did you want to come back around to see if you could try to hurt me again? Why would you say you want to be friends? Is it some sort of trick?

The thing is, I have no plans to get back on any dating apps ever again. By being off the apps, I’ve been able to meet people in real life, which I think is how it should be. If we met in real life and not on Bumble, would we even have dated? You texting me got me thinking — you got some weird version of me that wasn’t very happy. I was feeling like a fish out of water in my new town and you lived in my old town. You felt like home and going to see you on the weekend was like going home. We’d be out and refer to your apartment as “home” because it felt like it was home for both of us together.

Even though weekends with you felt like I was home, I was still a guest in a way. I couldn’t maintain my old life while living in yours. I felt like I lost part of my identity. Maybe we would have worked out if we had been living in the same area and not dedicated our entire weekends to being together. We could have met up on a random Tuesday evening for dinner or my work schedule could have been different and not revolved around you. Part of me wishes we had that chance to do it all over again.

Anyway, I’m flying home to Texas today after what would have been our vacation and tonight, I’ll be working, because nothing sucks quite as much as spending a night home alone, knowing today would have been our one year anniversary of when we went on our first date. Work distractions somehow sound so much better.

Happy, what would have been, our one year anniversary.

xoxo

Annie

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curtklingermanposts · 7 months ago

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A Recipe for Powerless Prayer

Walk in Self-Condemnation

An old family recipe for powerless prayer has a very simple ingredient: self-condemnation. Contrary to what some might believe, it has nothing to do with repentance, nor does it glorify God. Furthermore, it keeps you in the driver’s seat. It runs contrary to what Jesus said was required to come after Him. Matthew 16:24 Then said Jesus unto His disciples, If any man will come after Me, let him deny himself, and take up his cross, and follow Me. Part of denying the self includes not inserting yourself into places where you do not belong. It’s never been our position to condemn anyone, including ourself. 1 Corinthians 4:3-5 But with me it is a very small thing that I should be judged of you, or of man's judgment: yea, I judge not mine own self. For I know nothing by myself; yet am I not hereby justified: but He that judgeth me is the Lord. Therefore judge nothing before the time, until the Lord come, Who both will bring to light the hidden things of darkness, and will make manifest the counsels of the hearts: and then shall every man have praise of God. When entering into self-condemnation, one tends to reject mercy, and by extension God’s forgiveness offered them through the precious Blood of Jesus. Of course, many condemn themselves, because they haven’t forgiven themselves. From that standpoint, it is hard for them to imagine God forgiving them, since they can’t seem to do it, themselves. “I don’t know how He could forgive me.” How much confidence do you think they have in God hearing their prayers? 1 John 3:20-21 For if our heart condemn us, God is greater than our heart, and knoweth all things. Beloved, if our heart condemn us not, then have we confidence toward God.

Repentance Removes Self-Condemnation

When persons do not truly repent, they may employ self-condemnation, especially if they plan to continue in the wrong direction. They use it like self-flagellation, in order to feel better about things. In order to save face before others, they’ll verbalize the self-condemnations, so others will not condemn them -at least not verbalize it to them. They’re still in control. Repentance is concerned with the way God see things, and how He would want us to address sin, or anything else for that matter. It means to change the way one thinks, which in turn leads to a change in behavior. Repentance includes confession, which is full on agreement with God to include His view on our shortcomings. In addition, it seeks to change direction on His terms. What are His terms? 1 John 1:9 If we confess our sins, He is faithful and just to forgive us our sins, and to cleanse us from all unrighteousness (see also Acts 3:19-20). Repent, confess your sins, receive His forgiveness, learn whatever lesson needs to be learned, and move on. We cannot glorify God by condemning ourselves, while living in the past. Rather, glorifying Him includes pressing forward to the mark of your high calling, and being conformed to the image of Jesus. Philippians 3:13-14 Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus (see all of Philippians 3). If you want to makes things up to God, do things His way. His ways do not include self-condemnation.

perfectfaith.org

#perfectfaith #forgiveness #faith #self-condemnation #confidenceWithGod #prayer

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leftmysoulbythesideoftheroad · 2 years ago

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i need to go to therapy so bad. at this point, i’m not even thinking about my overall mental health and ptsd, etc, i just need to talk to someone who has absolutely no bias about my situation. i’m going to use a readmore to talk about it because it could be triggering.

cw for suicide, domestic abuse, attempted murder, ableism(?)

my sister’s husband had a mental breakdown. this man has been my best friend for nearly a decade. he’s my brother. he lost both of his parents within a year and just sunk deeper and deeper into grief and trauma until he was drowning in it. i knew he was. we tried to help him, but there’s only so much that outside help can offer.

he screamed at my sister, hit her, pushed her around. then he drove their car into a barrier with her inside in an attempt to kill himself. from what i understand, the intent wasn’t to kill her too, his mind was just in such a screaming panic that he couldn’t think or stop himself. i believe that’s true. it all happened in the course of several hours, and he had never put a hand on her before.

my dad thinks he should be in jail. my sister, mom, brother, and grandparents have already forgiven him. some of them act like there was nothing to forgive in the first place. so where does this leave me?

i don’t want him to go to jail. he went to a hospital for a while and now he’s in therapy, and he’s living separately from my sister. they’re going to stay separated for at least a year and work on themselves and their relationship in therapy. i approve of all of that, though i really wanted them to just get a divorce.

but i haven’t spoken to him since the morning that i found out what happened. what am i supposed to say? i was so, so furious and so hurt, and now i feel nothing because it was too much and too confusing and i just… turned it off. i’ve seen him a few times now, and we didn’t speak to each other, and all i felt was dissociated and kinda awkward. i cant even fucking feel anything anymore because i couldn’t handle it. like i couldn’t decide if everyone was being unreasonably (like insanely) forgiving or if i was being a crazy person by wanting him out of our lives forever. the fact that my father, a man who sees suicide as a moral failing, is the one i’m closest to agreeing with makes me feel like i’m losing my mind.

but just because i can’t feel it all right now doesn’t mean i’ve stopped thinking about it. i would never, ever judge some for trying to kill themself. but this man abused my sister and then tried to kill her with him. maybe i’m being close-minded, but i feel like his actions have spoken for themselves. he wasn’t sane at the time, he was acting on completely panicked instinct, but i don’t understand why no one else sees that he can’t be trusted now. forgetting all of my anger and hurt, if i try to be logical and realistic, i see that he’s shown us what his most basic instincts are. i believe he is a good, loving person. i really do. i hope he gets all the help he needs, and i don’t think i’ll ever not love him.

but how can i ever trust this man again?

#i think it looks more cut and dry written out like this #in reality it’s messy and complicated and the people mentioned are some of those whose opinions i trust and value above all others #meaning not my father but the rest of my family #i trust their judgment 100% of the time except for literally this one time #if you read this you may comment or dm me if you like but any outright hatred will be blocked immediately #be respectful to my family and my brother in law or don’t speak to me

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kazumasdiary · 1 year ago

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[ID: tags reading #I AM WEEPING #although if op doesn’t mind me ranting in tags myself #i don’t see sholmes as callous per se #probably because this feels like ace attorney’s brand of humor #not taking concepts waaaay to seriously and sometimes not talking about consequences that would be irl #like sure he can steal the last piece of pizza and maybe unintentionally accuse you of murder. but that’s just how quirky he is]

@phonopsyche honestly, i think you’re right! i have a habit of being somewhat unfair to sholmes, probably because, despite being on the record as someone who can and will forgive murder, i still haven’t quite forgiven him for lying about kazuma? which, to be clear, is very much a personal thing, and has nothing to do with anything in the actual story- i wrote this whole post in part to remind myself to give sholmes more credit than i do. i have biases and this is one place where they really show! just because i am particular about the "you let them grieve" thing doesn't mean that there's anything specifically highlighting that as important with regards to sholmes.

and then there's another question, when it comes to how sholmes interacts with people: it's clearly serving a meta purpose of comedic relief, but also, in the story, from a watsonian perspective, how much of this is sholmes putting on an act? because we do get hints that the whimsy is kind of deliberate, even if i missed them at the time- he has this moment in case 1-5 where in one of his grand deductions, he apparently reveals top-secret police information, and you get this conversation:

Sholmes: Hm, well... Hopefully this has taught you a valuable lesson. Sensitive information must be handled with the utmost of care. One can never be sure that someone privy to secrets won't disclose them. And once the word is out, it's out.

Ryunosuke:...Perhaps I'll think twice before confiding in you next time, Mr Sholmes.

Sholmes: An excellent idea, Mr Naruhodo. An excellent idea. Ah ha ha ha ha hah!

and the whole thing is played off as a joke: ha ha, sholmes can't keep secrets and reveals critically sensitive information casually, isn't he so funny? except as we now know, this entire time sholmes was hiding the secret of kazuma actually being alive, not to mention anything he knew about the professor case, so his whole “ha ha i can't keep secrets” joke here feels like one hell of a misdirect, or something, because, no! he absolutely can!

i, think i've gotten sidetracked, but i can definitely say that the moments when he’s appeared to disregard the well-being of those around him stand out to me because of my own gut reaction, not necessarily because i think that the story highlights them. i don’t think sholmes was written to be deliberately cruel. and there's definitely more points to be made about how sholmes fits in with the general vibe and tone of the games! i do not particularly think i am qualified for that one- i'm still playing through said games and also there's definitely major things about sholmes i still don't know- but i’m certain somebody out there with more concrete and detailed thoughts on sholmes has made those points and made them well.

but, yeah- like you said! he’s just quirky like that!

(also, please rant in the tags, i write these posts specifically in the hope that someone will rant in the tags because it is always a delight.)

so, in 1-5, after you invite gina to dinner and she runs away, ryunosuke says,

"Once she's had a chance to calm down, I think there's a good chance she'll decide to come."

the thing is- gina is a pickpocket living on the streets of east end. most days, she probably doesn't know where her next meal is coming from. and i think ryunosuke realizes this, and that's how he gets to this conclusion- gina would need a really compelling reason to turn down free, guaranteed food.

and on that note, courtesy of my friends- don't think about how, in 2-4, gina says she saw gregson wind his watch at the pub every evening. don't think about how that means gregson took her to the pub every day, because even if he could not guarantee her stability in most areas of life he could at least guarantee that she was eating that day, if nothing else.

but the other thing is that, here, in 1-5, as far as we know, this is the second time sholmes has ever met gina. there's an argument to be made otherwise- gina's weirdly acquiescent to iris's insistence that she come along at the end of 1-3, which could imply they knew each other beforehand- but everything else seems to suggest that case 1-3 is the first time she and iris have ever met. so, when iris takes her back, that would be the first time gina and sholmes ever met, and this moment in the pawnshop marks the second.

which means that sholmes saw a young girl, who he knew to be a pickpocket and therefore likely an orphan, who he had met exactly once before, and before she walks away he makes sure to invite her to dinner.

and none of this is said out loud, because of course it's not. gina hates grown-ups. she says so herself. and that hatred is pretty justified- later, when you speak to her in the prison, she says

If you do wot the grown-ups tell ya, it'll get yer mates dragged off by the coppers. Or worse. I've 'ad it 'appen to me before an'all.

the kids in the east end have no one to look out for them. it's why mcgilded could threaten them so easily. every adult, every authority that should have protected gina has instead been used to hurt her.

so any insinuation that sholmes was trying to help her would have probably resulting in gina throwing something at him. and to be fair, most of the time, sholmes doesn't really try to be respectful or understanding- "a great detective is wont to lie" comes to mind, for one. but if he noticed this, too- if he realized that gina probably didn't know where or if she'd have food that night, and that she'd probably reject any offer of help if it was phrased that way- then this scene becomes one of the moments where he does choose to be tactful, in order to try and give someone what they might need.

(sholmes is, perhaps more aware of the people around him than he lets on, and it's a testament to how well his act is working that it took me until about halfway through case 2-4 to realize it. but that's not the point here.)

the thing is that society, as a whole, has failed gina in a lot of ways. it says something, that gina's stated goal at the end of 1-5 is to become the kind of adult that could protect kids like her- the kind of adult she never had.

but we do see a couple of instances where people choose to do better. they give her a chance, where she might not have gotten one otherwise. they go out of their way to make sure, just in case she hasn't eaten, that she is fed.

sometimes we see people get it right.

(as usual, thank you to @ifidogaysomyself for checking my claims.)

#dgs #dgs2 #dgs spoilers #dgs2 spoilers #herlock sholmes #meta #my meta #also someone else's meta really!#again i may have gotten very off the main point here but! we are simply here to have fun #also the thing is that i would love more people to talk to about these games #but i can't interact with most other fandom blogs because spoilers #so i'm just screaming into the void and hoping someone screams back #q

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ignitedbynatsu · 4 years ago

Text

He Makes You Feel Insecure ~ Natsu

A/N: Woowie it has been a while hasn’t it 😅 Writers block can be a bitch but I think I have a few more ideas for the other boys. Let me know who you want me to write for next!!

warnings: insecurities (he makes you feel like you feel like your magic isn’t compatible, cursing

genre: angst to fluff

Other versions:

Gray ~ Laxus ~ Cobra/Erik ~ Bickslow ~ Gajeel ~ Jellal ~ Freed ~ Sting ~ Rogue

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

Tension had been running high for Natsu when his fire attacks had been cancelled one after the other by the wind magic user, but when you were the one that accidentally nullified his attack with your water magic, that’s when he completely snapped.

You had taken note of the rising irritation in your boyfriend's behaviour, and you thought that he hadn’t noticed the attack coming his way so in the heat of the moment you decided to step in. As a result, your water extinguished his flames and you both could dodge his attack your opponent’s attack just in time.

“Natsu, I’m so sorry-“ “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”

You were a bit taken back by his sudden tone as he had never yelled at you before. He took notice of your sudden state of shock, but that wasn’t enough to prevent the vicious word from coming from his mouth “Why the fuck did you think that was a good idea? Don’t you see that you’re a nuisance to me? All you do is fuck up my fire and get in my way. I don’t want your magic near me, can you get that through your thick skull?”

“Natsu!” Erza called out to the stressed fire dragon slayer “This is not the time nor the place”

“I won’t get in your way next time” You whispered before heading over to help Lucy with her opponent.

After a while, you overpowered your foes and were now on a train making your way back to Magnolia. You sat next to Lucy, while Carla and Wendy were seated in front of you. Natsu, Gray, Erza and Happy were seated in the boot next to yours.

“(Y/N)” Natsu whined “I’m dying, please help me” You usually summoned some water in the palm of your hand and let it softly swirl against his forehead. For some reason, it helped with the nauseous feeling, and you were about to give in until you realized his words from earlier. He wanted your magic nowhere near him. What if you somehow fucked up and splashed water all over him. You did not want to be yelled at again.

“Tell Natsu I’m asleep or something” You mumbled lowly, so only Lucy could hear, while you laid your head on her shoulder. She gave you a sad smile, knowing the outburst was still fresh on your mind. She complied, making Natsu groan in response but eventually gave up. He didn’t look too much in it as he knew how tired you could get from these jobs.

Once out of the train, you didn’t spare Natsu a second look. You walked in front of everyone, but Erza quickly caught up to walk next to you, while the other looked after the two Dragon Slayers that were still feeling a bit nauseous from the train ride “Are you okay?”

“Of course! Why wouldn’t I be?” You asked.

Erza clicked her tongue as she looked at you from the corner of her eyes, absolutely not believing the lie that just fell from your tongue “Natsu was way out of line”

“He was just stressed, it can happen to the best of us” You shrugged it off, hoping that if you treated it lightly it wouldn’t weight down later in your mind.

“Still not an excuse to work it out on you” She pointed out.

“I know, thank you for caring, but really Erza, I promise I’m okay.” You gave her a small genuine smile which she returned.

You didn’t return to the guild as the others did, instead, you went home, telling the others you were too tired from the mission to deal with the shenanigans from Fairy Tail. Natsu offered to walk you home, but you kindly denied it, leaving him a bit confused. He realized he should probably give you some space since he lashed out at you. He made a mental note to apologize next thing in the morning when he’d see you.

“(Y/N)! Baby!” Natsu ran over to you and hugged you tightly while spinning you around making you squeal in surprise “put me down, Natsu”

“Only if you forgive me for what happened yesterday,” he said.

“I forgive you. You were stressed, I get it, it’s no big deal” You forgave him.

“I knew you’d understand, you’re the best” He kissed your cheek as he placed you back on your feet “anyway Happy and I found this job and-“

“I think I’m gonna take a day off, still feel a little tired from yesterday, you can go, though, have fun” you cut him off before he could fully explain the mission.

“Alright, make sure you take care of yourself today! I’ll be home as soon as I can, so we can cuddle” He kissed your forehead before turning to the Exceed “Let’s go Happy! Let’s go ask if Lucy wants to join”

That’s how the following weeks went. You always found an excuse to not join Natsu and Happy on the job. Sure you had forgiven him for his outburst since he was under a lot of stress. He shouldn’t have taken it out on you, but you also knew it could happen to the best of us when you’ve hit your limit. However, you couldn’t help but see some truth in his words.

Your magic was not compatible and made you doubt yourself. You associated yourself strongly with your magic, as every wizard did, so I made you think if you and Natsu were suited for each other. After all, that was one of the many reasons why Natsu and Gray shared such a peculiar friendship.

You had often heard of the saying that opposites attracted, but nothing could be further from the truth. The human race is a narcissistic species and wants nothing more than finding themselves in their significant others. Huge differences might be exciting and fun at first but are bound to break in the long run.

“(Y/N), you wanna go on a mission with us?” Natsu asked as you stood in front of the board with job applications.

“Can’t, I promised Gajeel I-“ You started to explain but cut yourself off when Natsu threw you over his shoulder “Natsu! Let me go! Natsu!”

“No we need to talk,” He said in a serious tone, making you stop struggling against his grip and let him take you outside, so you could talk in private.

“What do you wanna talk about?” You asked softly as you took notice of the sincere expression on his face.

“Why are you avoiding me?” He asked as his black orbs were searching for answers in your eyes.

“I am not” you deflected his question, but you breaking eye contact as soon as the words past your lips proved you were lying.

“Ever since that day I lashed out at you, you haven’t gone on a mission with me” He pressed.

“That’s not true” you denied once again which made him frown. Why were you dishonest with him?

“Okay, when was the last time we went on a job together?” He asked. Your silence was a clear answer and you both knew it. Your gaze averted to the ground, but he refused to let you shy away from him as he placed a finger under your chin to tilt your head back up until your eyes meet once again. His hand softly from underneath your chin to lay on your cheek “are you still upset with me?”

Your heart shattered at how vulnerable he was right now. His playful antics long replaced by guilt that had been slowly eating away at him for the past days. “No, of course not”

“Then please tell me what I did wrong. I can’t stand the thought of me deliberately hurting you. Please tell me what’s troubling you, so I can fix it” He pleaded.

“Do you-“ You paused to collect your thoughts “do you think we’re right for each other?”

“What do you mean?”

“That day you said my magic was a nuisance. It got me thinking and you were right. You have to evade my magic so often, and it's all because it isn’t compatible with one another. I just didn’t want to be more of a hinder than I already was, that’s why I started to join others on their jobs just so I wouldn’t mess up yours. I just sometimes wonder if my magic isn’t the only thing that isn’t compatible with you.” You frowned as you hear yourself your insecurities out loud.

“Hey, no, stop. What I said that day was completely out of line. I took my frustration and took them out on you and I shouldn’t have. I have no excuse for how I acted that day. You didn’t deserve it, and I’m sorry for making you feel bad. So what if we’re a little different. I thought you always liked a good challenge?” He apologized.

“Sure I like the thrill of our relationship, but it doesn’t take away from the fact our magic isn’t suitable for one another. I just think we’re setting ourselves up for failure. A challenge is fun for a little while but we both know that stability is what you need if you want a relationship to survive in the long run” You explained.

“Then we’ll defy those odds. I’ll show everyone and especially you that you don’t need something like psychology to prove if a relationship will work or not. Please let me prove to you how much I can love you and let me prove to you that I’ll eventually become that stability you crave.” He vowed. “I always thought you weren’t one to be quick on giving up when things get rough”

“I’m not, I just don’t want to put my heart out there if I know from the start it’ll only get broken” You uttered somberly.

“I promise you it won’t. I’ll love you with every fiber in my body until the day I die. I will never make you doubt yourself or our relationship again” He told you, sincerity audible in his voice.

You smiled softly at him as your arms sneaked around his waist while your head laid on his chest. His arms immediately reacted at your touch, shielding you away from the world as his lips planted a soft kiss on your head “I love you”

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separatist-apologist · 3 years ago

Note

Could you do one where Lucien finds out about what happened on solstice but he and Elian isn’t speaking to him yet? I’m curious to see your take!

Look. I absolutely CANNOT help myself. If I had written that scene (and I am free, SJM), it would have gone down a little like this.

She doesn’t want him.

Azriel’s words rang through Lucien’s head, over and over on a constant loop, one he didn’t think he’d ever get out. He hadn’t wantedto overhear that whole conversation and, in doing so, was reminded why he never came to this fucking city to start with. He scrubbed a hand down his face, slung his bag over his shoulder, and slipped from his room. Feyre would be disappointed he left without saying goodbye but no one else would miss him. He could always make his excuses in a letter when he was far from Velaris.

I’d defeat him easily.

Lucien flinched beneath the weight of such casual violence. Azriel would love Autumn Court, if that was his first thought when it came to a blood duel. Lucien had no intention of calling one, not for Elain. He barely knew her and yet Lucien didn’t think she’d find the whole, bloody mess endearing.

He certainly had no intention of dying over a female that seemed to loathe his existence. He closed his eyes for a moment, willing Azriel’s voice to remove itself.

He doesn’t deserve her.

What would Lucien know about that, he thought miserably, his feet touching the first-floor landing. It wasn’t like he’d asked for her. If he’d it his way, the cauldron would given Elain to Azriel and the spymaster could spend eternity bound to a female that wanted nothing to do with their kind. He might have found it funny, the notion that Azriel thought she’d fall into his arms when Elain had made it abundantly clear she hated the mating bond.

Maybe he’d have a shot, then. Lucien stepped past the drawing room they’d exchanged gifts in when he caught a flash of that honey-colored hair all the Archeron’s shared. Feyre was up. Well fuck. He’d never be forgiven if he snuck right past her. He sighed and turned.

“Knock, knock,” he said before looking in. “Feyre, I thought I’d…” His words died in his throat when Elain looked back, her hands wrapped around her throat. “Never mind.” He wasn’t touching the red eyes and blotchy skin of the softly crying Elain with a ten-foot pole. He turned on his heel when something physically stopped him.

The fucking mating bond snarled in his chest, a physical beast that demanded he care for his mate. Fuck me, he thought furiously, keeping himself exactly where he was. He turned again, wary of the female that had caused so much drama. He wondered if she knew. Elain’s hands were still wrapped around her neck as a set of fresh tears slid down her cheeks.

“Are you alright?” He asked, every inch of him rebelling at the thought of comforting her through the rejection of another male.

Elain’s whole body seemed to tremble while Lucien warred with the bond, demanding it let him leave.

She doesn’t want him.

Lucien sighed and offered her a mocking bow while even the mating bond conceded. He turned for the third time, reshouldering his bag, and stepped out of the drawing room. Ten steps and he’d be at the door.

“Wait!” She called. Lucien’s whole body went taut as he closed his eyes and tilted his head towards the sky.

Have I displeased you? He silently asked the mother, walking back to the drawing room. He knew she could tell he did not want to be there, that he’d been trying to make his escape judging by the expression on her face. Was she planning to torture him a little, on her way out?

“Can you help me?” She asked, removing her hands from her throat. A red rosebud hung from her pale throat on a silver chain, and it was clear she’d been trying to remove it when he walked in on her.

Lucien dropped his bag to the floor and walked to her, her scent a punch to the gut. Honey and jasmine and something warm, like a breeze over a sunlit sky. All of that was mingled with fear and the better part of him wanted to tell her no and demand she tell him why she was so scared. He didn’t. What good was upsetting an already crying female?

She swept thick, honey-colored curls over one shoulder and it was Lucien’s turn to tremble, his stomach bottoming out. Had he ever touched her? He couldn’t remember a time. He reached for the tiny clasp, his fingers brushing over the nape of her neck. He swallowed hard as the chain was freed, sliding away into her waiting hands.

“Thank you,” she murmured as Lucien immediately put distance between them. His entire body was too aware of her and though he was angry, he didn’t know that he could stop himself from touching her again if he remained close. He wanted to guard her, to put his body in front of hers and snap and snarl until every male in Prythian was aware that she was his mate.

He reached for his bag. “Are you leaving?” She asked again and it occurred to Lucien she had asked him two questions and he had said nothing in response. He flexed his jaw, his back turned to her, and slid the strap of the bag back over his shoulder.

“I am,” he replied carefully. Elain wiped her cheeks with the palm of her hand and Lucien thought she was still so heartbreakingly beautiful, despite her hurt. Elain nodded, looking down at her feet and he wondered if he ought to just say goodbye.

“Will you be back?” She asked, her words nearly a whisper.

“Would you like me to return?” He asked, emphasizing her part heavily. Their eyes met again and Elain hesitated.

No.

He turned then, his anger cascading over him, intending to leave her in the drawing room. She didn’t owe him anything but neither did he. At least he was trying. If she didn’t want him around, he didn’t need to come any more than was necessary and he certainly didn’t need to see her.

“Lucien!” Elain breathed from behind him. He stopped again, cursing himself and the tether that bound them. “Lucien I didn’t…I uh…”

“I get it,” he said, his words clipped, turning to face her again. He shoved down his instincts demanding he treat her with care. Maybe someone should tell her to get fucked, even once instead of the constant handholding she was subjected to. “I’m the wrong male. That’s fine, Elain. I don’t want to be in your way.”

His hand reached for the doorknob when she surged forward, her brown eyes still sparkling with tears. “What does that mean?” She demanded.

He laughed dryly. “I guess you didn’t hear the little reprimand the High Lord gave Azriel regarding you?”

Her face paled.

“Don’t let me get in the way of true love,” he commented sarcastically. “I wish you and the bat nothing but the best.”

Her eyes narrowed. “I’m not in love with him,” she half-whispers.

“You understand that’s worse, right?” He asked, crossing his arms over his chest. She looked him up and down.

“I don’t belong to you,” she began but Lucien rolled his eyes.

“When did I ever say you did?” He asked, raising his eyebrows. “You’ve made a lot of assumptions about someone you don’t even know.”

“Would you even be here if it weren’t for this?” Elain asked in return, one finger gesturing between their bodies.

“Would Feyre?” He snapped back. Elain hesitated and Lucien could see she hadn’t considered that. Something sparked in her gaze and Lucien waited to see if she was going to soften.

“I don’t owe you anything.”

“Great,” Lucien replied, yanking on the door handle. “I don’t owe you shit, either.”

He stepped into the cold, strangely pleased when she followed him out.

“What does that mean?” She asked, the door snapping behind her. She immediately wrapped her arms around her body and, cursing himself, Lucien began unbuttoning his jacket.

“Why do you think I ought to stand here trying when you don’t believe you owe me anything?” He demanded even as he handed her the emerald-colored jacket. She snatched it out of his hands and threw it to the ground like a petulant child.

“You wanted this—”

“The hell I did!” He interrupted. “Do you imagine I am having a good time, watching you desperately try to avoid me? Because let me assure you, this is not my idea of fun.”

“Then why do you keep coming around?!”

“Because you haven’t rejected the bond!” He replied, letting some of his desperation leech into his words. “And until you do, I’ll keep coming to Solstice and waiting, my entire life hinging on a choice you seem duty bound to ignore. Have you ever considered, for even a moment of your now immortal life, that you do owe me something?”

“I don’t owe you shit,” she whispered in response, all rebellion. Lucien couldn’t help the laugh that bubbled out of his throat, causing her to jump. Of all the things he might have imagined, her repeating his own words back to him was not one of them. He shook his head, meaning to turn and winnow away but Elain was watching him and he thought her lips curved upwards just enough to seem as though she were suppressing a smile.

Lucien offered her the same mocking bow he’d once given her sister, bending deeply at the waist, arms thrown out, so she knew it was not courtly in the slightest.

“Enjoy your night, Elain.”

“Lucien!” She snapped, very clearly exasperated. He shivered and it had nothing to do with the cold, which he barely felt. He took a step between them, hooking the lip of his jacket on his boot and tossing it into the air where he caught it and draped it over his arm.

“What?”

Her eyes glanced back at his jacket, arms tightening around her body and for the second time that night, Lucien handed her the jacket. She didn’t budge and he sighed.

“Take the damn jacket, Elain.” “You’re rude,” she accused, snatching it out of his grip. And though Lucien was irritated with her, some of his anger washed away at the sight of her buttoning herself into his jacket.

“Yeah? Well you’re spoiled.”

Real mature.

She paused and then she smiled, as if he’d told her she was beautiful. “No one has ever said that to me before.”

“You’ll forgive me if I’m all out of sonnets.”

She laughed that time. “You’re so mean.”

Lucien hesitated. Did she like it? He took a step towards her and Elain, to her credit, held her ground. All traces of tears were gone, replaced by the open rebellion staring him in the face.

“You like it,” he accused. Elain didn’t deny it. Instead she took the tiniest step towards him, so close Lucien could touch her face. He reached between them, taking a fat curl between his fingers, knuckles brushing over her cheek.

“I’m not a doll,” she murmured, eyes wide as she held her ground. “I can handle it.”

Of that, Lucien didn’t doubt. He knew she felt his agreement, shimmering down their shared connection.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you wanted me to stick around.” “Good thing you know better,” she shot back, all teasing. Lucien, unable to resist testing his luck, dropped his hand and made to turn.

She grabbed his hand and his blood sang at the contact, the instinct to grab her and take her away from this place nearly overwhelming.

“Stay,” she breathed. “Get some sleep…you look terrible.”

He smiled, looking down at her hand clasping his own. “At least we share that commonality.”

Her mouth dropped open, eyes sparkling. “How very cruel of you. Will I see you in the morning?”

“If you’re lucky,” he replied, smirking. All his confidence died the moment she brought his hand to her mouth, pressing a kiss to his palm.

“If you’re lucky, you mean,” she replied, letting go. Elain turned, flouncing back into the house without so much as a glance backwards while Lucien stood beneath the fae lights flickering on Feyre’s porch, hand burning. He tried to figure out what had happened and how they’d gone from crying and yelling to…insults and a kiss.

Still, he did as she asked and came back into the house and walked back to his room…where Feyre waited, a smile playing on her lips.

“Good night?” She asked him, making it plain she’d heard at least part of what went down between him and Elain.

“Shut up,” he replied.

#elucien #elucien prompt #elucien fanfic #elain x lucien #lucien x elain #im not gonna add to luciens misery #its happy endings or NOTHING #also mean elain is my favorite thing #still no smut #i think maybe the next one is smutty?#dont be afraid to send me your smutty prompts #i will answer them in the order they are recieved

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makeste · 4 years ago

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tw/ child abuse

omg I can't take people defending endeavor anymore, the man beat up two of his 5yo children, one of them to the point where he faked his own death, made his wife go crazy because of the constant abuse, neglected his other two children, he fucked with his family for 20 years and people are still claiming that he did nothing wrong???? that he feeling sorry for himself and not his victims is okay??? this man needs to be put in jail not amount of self pity can make me feel sorry for him, hes not even trying to pretend to care, I didn't had a panic attack reading that chapter where deku said that he deserves to be forgiven because he thought him how to use is quirk and beat jeanist acted as if child abuse means nothing compared to the heroes reputation because it reminded me of how everyone around me acted as if the abuse that me and my sisters had to endure meant nothing and we were just being hysterical, for readers to start acting as if endeavor did nothing wrong when we know he has, I really wish that people would stop and think and instead of pputting blame on the victims put it on the abuser (sorry about any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language and i was kinda nervous writing this)

anon you absolutely have a right to not like the character or his story arc, and I’m sorry that you and your sisters went through that. you can hate him and find him unforgivable and want him to be punished, and all of that is valid. however, there are a few things that you’ve stated in this ask which are misleading and which I’d like to clarify.

1. I have never once seen anyone say that Endeavor did nothing wrong; I’m curious where you’ve seen that take. I think it’s pretty much universally acknowledged in fandom that Endeavor abused and neglected his family, and he himself even acknowledged responsibility for Touya’s death. no one is claiming otherwise.

2. Deku never said Endeavor deserves to be forgiven. what he said was (1) Dabi was wrong about it not being his business, because trying to kill Deku’s friend right in front of him makes it his business, and (2) “the past never dies, and that’s why I’m watching Endeavor real hard as he tries to be better.” the implication is that he’s not forgiving Endeavor for what he’s done, but that he is paying attention to Endeavor’s attempts at atonement now to see if he really is sincere (which he in fact is).

3. similarly, Jeanist never said anything close to “I don’t give a fuck about child abuse, how dare you besmirch the heroes’ precious reputations”, or whatever people keep interpreting it as. I’ve already written a much longer post about this, so I won’t go into it here. but again, this is putting words into characters’ mouths that they’ve never said and completely twisting their meanings around.

4. Dabi is not immune from responsibility for his actions just because his father neglected him. it’s not a get out of jail free card he can just wave around. he’s killed scores of people, and he himself nearly killed the same brother he called Endeavor out for abusing. acknowledging that doesn’t mean that someone is victim-blaming. you can call out Dabi for his shit and still acknowledge Endeavor’s crimes as well. people who are abused can and do sometimes grow up to be abusers themselves.

5. lastly, please don’t think I mean this in a harsh way at all, anon, but in the same way that nobody has the right to tell you how to feel about the story, you don’t have the right to tell others how to feel about it either. you don’t know what other people have been through, and their feelings are valid too. “I really wish that people would stop and think” implies that they haven’t already. speaking as an abuse survivor myself, I personally find Endeavor’s redemption arc therapeutic, because my abuser never expressed any real remorse for their actions even though I wish they would have. so seeing that happen in this story is actually pretty emotional for me. but that’s also a deeply personal reaction that I kind of wish I didn’t have to explain on demand just to prove that I’m allowed to participate in the discussion on abuse. basically I don’t think anyone has the right to gatekeep said discussion, or try to invalidate other people’s feelings and reactions because they don’t think they’re reacting in what they feel is the appropriate way.

Endeavor’s character arc is always going to be a polarizing one. it’s an example of restorative justice versus punitive justice, with Horikoshi generally being in favor of the former (at least from what we’ve seen). and so for the people who want to see Endeavor punished, his arc isn’t necessarily going to be an enjoyable one, because rather than taking the “put him in jail and humiliate him and make him suffer” approach, Horikoshi is instead going with the “make him take responsibility by acknowledging and doing his best to repair the harm he’s done moving forward” approach. which is a much slower and more painstaking process, and less viscerally satisfying, but ultimately more helpful to the people that he’s actually hurt. at least I think so. but again, you don’t have to agree and those feelings are 100% valid as well. I think overall people just need to stop acting like there’s an objective right or wrong way to feel here in general. anyway so that’s all I’ll say about it for now.

#bnha 300 #endeavor #todoroki enji #bnha meta #endeavor meta #bnha #boku no hero academia #bnha spoilers #mha spoilers #bnha manga spoilers #makeste reads bnha #asks #anon asks #tw: child abuse

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fischerfrey · 3 years ago

Photo

spring break: day 03; breakfast

Word count: 600

March, 1996; London

She found Merula on the balcony the next morning, wearing one of Verna’s own coats against the cool spring air, sipping tea from one of the mugs Verna had hidden on the highest shelf because she never used it. It had rained the previous night and Merula’s hair was curlier and messier for it. It was also longer, Verna noticed now, in the morning light. She hadn’t seen her in so long it felt like a lifetime. She wasn’t sure she had forgiven her either.

“I’m sorry,” said Merula when she heard her enter. “I didn’t know where else to go.”

“You said that already,” Verna replied, pushing the balcony door fully open.

“It’s still true. Barnaby and Ismelda don’t want anything to do with me.”

Verna wasn’t exactly surprised to hear it, after everything that had happened between them.

“What about Gael?” she asked.

“He’s one of them, now. His uncle escaped with my parents.”

“Yeah, I heard, I just didn’t really expect him to—"

“Trust me, neither did I.”

Verna sighed. A bad choice of words, trust, but at least she didn’t feel as though Merula was planning on killing her right at that moment.

“My parents brought him along once, to try and convince me to join.”

A question which had been plaguing her ever since Merula arrived popped to her lips: “Why didn’t you?”

“I couldn’t— I don’t want to be a fucking Death-eater. Have you heard what they’re saying about your grandmother? How she had your dad with a muggle man and now you’re all blood-traitors and—”

Before she could finish, Verna interrupted her, saying: “I know. My family is in hiding. And as for me, let them come.”

Merula shook her head, almost like she had anticipated Verna’s response. “You haven’t changed.”

Verna wasn’t an idiot, she knew she couldn’t face someone like Voldemort head-on, but most of his followers were a different deal entirely. She had bested better wizards at seventeen. Merula shivered despite the coat on her shoulders. Verna had already told her she could stay so there was no reason to lurk on the balcony, drinking stale tea from a dusty, old cup.

“Come on in,” she said softly, “It’s cold out here.”

Verna made them both fresh cups of tea and sat across from Merula at her tiny kitchen table. She had bought oranges the day before, so she grabbed one and started peeling it. Merula kept silent, staring at the steam coming from her tea. According to her, she had been on the run for weeks and she did look worse for the wear. Verna wasn’t sure if she had been telling the truth about having nowhere else to go, but at least the people after her would never expect Merula to come to Verna, not after everything.

“Do you want to split this?” Verna asked eventually, moving the discarded peels aside.

Merula looked up, startled, and nodded. Verna handed her half of the orange.

“Thank you,” said Merula. “For letting me stay.”

Verna nodded. She wasn’t sure why she had done that (or maybe she was but didn’t want to admit it to herself). She watched Merula slowly eat the orange, slice by slice.

“This doesn’t mean I’m alright with what you did,” she said, though her voice still sounded too gentle for the hurt in her heart.

“I know,” Merula replied. “I’m not asking for forgiveness and anyway, I don’t deserve it.”

“It’s got nothing to do with what you deserve,” said Verna, nibbling on an orange slice. Forgiveness didn’t come easy to Verna but she was tired of having more enemies than friends.

Merula looked puzzled. She’d worn the same expression the night before when Verna had let her in.

“What?”

“It’s about what I deserve. And I think I’ve earned some amount of peace.”

fin.

for @kc-and-co‘s event!

#hogwarts: spring break 2022 #spring break challenge 2022 #hphm #mc x merula snyde #merula snyde #verula #hphm fic #*oneshot #verna malinda #*my writing #iii'm back on my bullshit about how love is stored in peeling fruit for someone!!!#anyway idk i haven't written anything for these two in a while so #gael's deal is worthy of a whole other oneshot so just roll with it #*mine #*hits post and hides under a rock for 3 business days*#i see i've used that tag before lmao

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hongjoongtrasher · 4 years ago

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ATEEZ FINAL PART : when they said something to hurt you.

I'm glad you've liked the previous part (part 1 and 2 here if you haven't read it yet), so here is a final to all this angsty reactions (if it is a reaction). Sorry if there are a lot of grammar errors, English not being my mother tongue -

Gosh this is going to be LONG please, bear with me ugh.

Hongjoong:

After this stormy episode of him totally lashing his stress out on you, he spent some time alone to think and reflect upon his trashy behaviour. He was genuinely aware of the massive efforts you were doing for his ass. Literally be patient and taking everything on you so he didn't have to feel more stressed. But today was different. He obviously went too far, saying those words horribly. Furthermore, he knew how hurt you've been because of him and now he didn't really know how to be forgiven. He always have been busy, always considering his work first and thought you were in an equal part of this, but seems he considered you taken for granted. The leader sighed heavily, rubbing his eyes not seeing any solutions at the moment. It's at this moment that Seonghwa entered the place. "Erm...Joong ?" he didn't answer, only Seonghwa could see how much his leader was in distress. "I heard from Y/N, mh I mean she told San who told me but anyway-" began the oldest before Hongjoong asked simply: "Have you come to scold me ?" A silence then. "No, I came to check on you." Seonghwa was always worried about his leader, since he knew the best how hardworking and diligent Hongjoong was, but today he felt like he was wrong. "You've acted like a real idiot this time" Hongjoong let a sarcastic laugh be heard as he slowly turned to face his friend. "Yeah, I know. Do you think she will forgive me ?" "Probably not easily." he answered honestly before continuing. "She told San she was tired of this, always being a shadow to you, erm...and nowadays she's been really stressed at work" A shadow ? Is this how you were seeing yourself as ? And on top of that, he was completely unaware of your work, how life has been going for you. This made the leader felt more guilty as he bite his lips. "So...What should I do ? Kneeling and beg her for forgiveness ?" Seonghwa sighed and put a comforting hand on the leader shoulder. "Sometimes actions are better than words".

And he left the studio, putting Hongjoong in a more difficult situation than he was already. What did he mean ? He thought about it again and again, watching without really watching his screen before it tilted inside his head. "THE SONG !!" he yelled at himself, feeling now very dumb. He had almost forgotten this track, a very secret one he composed for a long time. This song was special for him, it was a song which were written for you, and was conveying all of his feelings. He had to make you listen to this. A glance at his phone indicated it was already 3am in the morning, but sleep could wait. He spent the rest of the night finishing this track, or actually checking it before he saved a copy and directly sent it to you, praying you'd see it in the morning.

You'd spent the most horrible night of your life. Crying and turning under your blanket as you felt useless, no one. San proposed to come with Yunho, but you insisted to be alone, so they let you be, though they were worried. You only found sleep around two in the morning, tired for having crying most of the night. You woke up at six, your eyes hurting, puffy and red as fuck. Anyone could tell you've cried your eyeballs out. First you went to the bathroom to clean your face with cold water, your stuffy nose not helping in the process. After a while you returned to your bedroom and took your phone, not expecting to see a message from your boyfriend, or was he still yours ? At first you hesitated to open it, but finally did. No text, just an audio file. What was this ? Taking your headphone, you put them into your ear before clicking on the file, closing your eyes. At first, you were confused. You've never heard any melody like this one, so...calm, bubbly and soft. Soon Hongjoong's voice appeared with lyrics he surely had written and...you broke in tears again. This time not from sadness, but ...it was like a dream. You could heard his feelings, how much he loved you. You were ready to forgive him, but...it wasn't easy. Reconciliations were always difficult for both of you. Brushing this instantly aside, you rushed out from your apartment for going directly to Hongjoong's studio, in home wear, messy hair and "after crying faced" only to find him asleep on the couch. Panting, you rushed to jump on your boyfriend, sobbing again . This caused Hongjoong to wake up in surprise, confused. "Y-Y/N ?" why ? Why were you crying again ? After a while of you crying heavily on his shirt, he realised you probably came after hearing his song. His arms softly hooked around your tiny waist as one hand rubbed your back. "Shh...don't cry" he said, heartbroken to see you like this. "You dummy !" you yelled between two sobs. "I know." "I - I love you" "Me too, I'm sorry for being a huge dummy" he said with a gentle smile, holding your face to wipe your tears.

Seonghwa:

How rude he's been with you. It's only after hearing your answer that he realised you didn't deserve this. He wanted to chase after you, saying he was sorry, but too late, you slammed the door. Hongjoong came to their shared room before leaning at the door's frame, arching a brow at the oldest. "Can you explain to me what did just happen ?" he asked calmly before Seonghwa bite his lower tier. "I've been a jerk with her" he mumbled, not proud of himself this time. "Yeah, we saw this. You know, she only wanted to cheer you up. We all know you're having bad times because of vocal things, but you didn't have to lash out on her." His leader wasn't wrong, only himself was. "Hwa, go after her. It's not too late" said Hongjoong. "Now ?" Hongjoong sighed. "Yes now, not tomorrow or later" Seonghwa blinked, overthinking before his own body stood up and carried him outside the dorm, chasing after you desperately. He shouldn't have had been this way, he should have been thankful to have you by his side, always being cheerful and bright although sometimes you were hiding your own demons. But being a couple meant for the good and the worst right ? After running for a while, he stopped, panting his lungs on fire. He started to think. Where could you be now ? He remembered when you were sad or stressed, you used to go to Starbucks and get a drink full of sugar and whipped cream, that's how he thought you'd at the nearest one. Not minding people watching him when he opened the door, he eyed the room quickly before seeing you at the table across the entrance. He stepped inside and directly went to your seat as you were still sniffing with tears, your drink between your hands. Not expecting to see your boyfriend, you gasped when you finally realised he was standing here without saying anything. "Y/N.." You tried to gain composure, not wanting to appear fragile in front of him. "What are you doing here ? I thought you didn't want to see me" you croaked, looking away coldly. You heard him sitting before you and took your cold hands. "Y/N I'm sorry. I've been a jerk, you didn't deserve this- I know my work isn't an excuse for acting this way, I understand if you don't want to talk to me or-" "Shut up..." you mumbled, suddenly feeling embarrassed as more people were staring at you two. "I will do everything for you to forgive me, really." he said seriously, not quitting your face from his gaze. Some people were whispering and gossiping, and the more they did, the more you felt ridiculous. You stood up quickly and went straight to the exit with your double cold latte with whipped cream, your boyfriend following you closely. "Are you crazy Park Seonghwa ??? Did you forget you're an idole ? Huh ?? What are you going to do if they recognise you ?" You began to yell but Seonghwa stopped you by taking your free hand and said clearly. "Then I will just say you're my girlfriend and that I don't care, cause you deserve way more than this. Beside being an idole I'm a man, and I love you, there's nothing wrong with this, and if they don't like it, screw them !" you were shocked by his fearless answer, and you felt your heart melt again. You were definitely madly in love with him.

Yeosang:

He was aware of his jerk attitude, and as much as he felt guilty, he didn't know how to ask for your forgiveness. The members already scolded him for what he had said earlier but he knew better than anyone that you weren't ready to talk with. You were the type to be angry for a while, not letting space for any peaceful conversation until you'd calm down. He overthought for a while, thinking you'd probably dump him now and he wouldn't see you ever again, or you'd be so mad at him you'd just beat his ass. Tormented, Yunho looked at his friend before saying, not really sure to mingle in his friend's love problems: "Yeosang, I'm not sure about her being mad, I think she's ...sad ?" he said cautiously, nervous about Yeosang's answer. Sad ? He was really dumb. Of course you'd not be mad, or at least not as much as sad. After all he saw you crying when you left, and his motto was all ruined at this moment. "You're right...I should go see her." he said flatly, feeling really bad. "Huh, yeah I don't even understand why you're still here to be honest" said Yunho with a smile. Thanks to him, Yeosang found the courage to go to your apartment, with your favorite pastry from the bakery you both liked to go, and...flowers. Yeosang wasn't the type to make such lovey dovey stuffs, but this time it was important. Inhaling deeply in front of your door, he knocked once, shyly, not sure if you'd hear it. Then he knocked more frankly before hearing footsteps from behind the door and before he knew it, you were standing in front of him as much surprised as he was. "...What are you doing here ?" you asked, rather coldly. He cleared his throat before handling you shyly the flowers. "I...I came to apologise. I've been a real jerk to you earlier...I even promised myself I'd never make you cry, but I failed miserably" he said in a go, probably too embarrassed to say it confidently. There is a silence, as you fix your eyes on your shy boyfriend. Suddenly you wanted to laugh. How laughable it was to see Yeosang acts like he never did before. You can't bear it anymore and just burst out of laugh, laughing so much that you have to hold your hurting belly. Visibly confused, Yeosang frowned a bit. Why were you laughing ? "Oh my god...You're really something else" you said, calming down slowly before taking the flowers. He suddenly lifted his head in hope. "Does it mean you're forgiving me ?" You faked you're still thinking about it, humming in an exaggerate way. "Well, only if you let me eat this" you nudged your chin to the box he was carrying and which you spotted immediately before he gave you the flower. He smiled and shook his head. "Alright, it's all for you then"

San:

He had definitely crossed a line he shouldn't had. After you slammed the door at his nose, he tried to make you open it for a while, but you never opened it again. So he left, defeated. It was supposed to be a romantic moment for both of you since a while, and yet he ruined everything with his mouth. Sometimes he wished he just could rewind and change every thing. Even if he didn't like the dress, he could have accepted it since you were happy, but his selfishness and jealousy got over it and now he was alone, in his car without you. He took his phone, sending you texts. "Babe, I'm sorry, please, you know I didn't really mean it right ?" or "Please answer me, I'm really sorry." etc, but you didn't even open them since they were still on sent. Instead of going back to his dorm, he tried to call you this time. On the fifth time, he let a voice mail, taking a long breath before the beep. "Y/N, I'm really sorry, I didn't want to ruin our date like this, or just ruin it at all. The truth is...you were so pretty in this dress, so sexy that I don't want other men to see you in this, I wanted to be the only one to see you with. You're not a whore, you're not any of this. I'm selfish I know, but please, it's been so long since we went on a date...If you still want to see me...I'll be waiting in front of your building." And he locked his phone, leaning his head on the top of the steering wheel. He didn't know how long he waiting again but he suddenly heard the door of the passenger side opening, making him look at the person who opened it. It was you. With the same dress. He felt his heart stopped as you sat next to him, putting your seatbelt without a word. "Y/N ?" You looked straightforward you, and said simply. "Let's go, I guess the restaurant is still open" you muffled. He couldn't help but smiled happily as he turned the engine on, taking your hand in his before driving and said. "Thank you Y/N, thank you" and kissed the back of your delicate hand.

Yunho:

Since the incident at the practice room, Yunho didn't hear from you for a while. Hongjoong particularly scolded him about how rude he's been on you while you just wanted to wish them good luck for their performance. He knew it right, but at the moment he couldn't have helped but get angry at you. He knew as well it wasn't so like him to get carried away for nothing, so that's why he didn't really know what to do to make amend for you. He made his mind he would apologise right after their stage for Kingdom even if they boys thought it would be better to do it before. He knew you'd definitely watch them, root for them so he put all of his mind and body in this performance, hoping it would bring him luck. And it did since they snitched 1st place although they started low in the classement. When the MC asked Yunho how he felt about their win, the giant boy just shyly smiled before saying with a trembling voice. "I...It meant a lot for us, and to be able to be first is huge honour. We always want to show our best to our fans, Atiny. But today I...wanted to surpass myself for a certain person." Others groups were chatting among themselves, surprised by Yunho's declaration. Changmin, though he was as surprised as the others still asked professionally. "Oh, who would it be ?" Yunho smiled brightly and said confidently. "Y/N, my girlfriend." Some screams and gasps from shock could be heard in the giant room after Yunho pursued: "She's always been by my side and supports me with the best way she can, but lately...I've not been a good boyfriend to her, that's why I wanted to win, for her, and saying that I love her."

Right after the diffusion of this week episode which you've been watching with your friends, you sobbed like a little girl. How proud you were for your boyfriend, and the only thing you wanted now was to take him in your arms, feeling his arms around you. With shaking hands you took your phone to try to call Yunho, but he wasn't answering your call. That's at this very moment you heard the bell of your door and went for it, not expecting to see your boyfriend at your door. "H-hi" he said shyly. You dropped your phone and jumped directly in his arms, crying again. "You're an idiot Jung Yunho...But I love you". He nuzzled the top of your head as he hugged you back tightly. "I love you too, little one."

Wooyoung:

wede Wooyoung always said honestly what he was thinking, and everyone's used to it, so he thought his remarks about your skill about cooking would pass easily, but he was wrong. At first he didn't understand your reaction, why you left like this as he was only joking, or he thought so. Seonghwa nagged at him after you left, saying how rude he's been and at least he could shut his mouth. He felt really guilty. He was the one who made you loose confidence about you, when he knew you're always trying your best. And this time, he really screwed things up. Worst than this, when he ate the cake you'd made, he realised it was really good, and his unfounded claims were really mean. Gathering his courage, he showed up at your workplace, waiting for you at the exit. At first, you didn't want to see him, you haven't digested yet what he'd said to you. But with an expressionless face, you finally appeared in front of him. "Y/N- listen, I'm really sorry, I shouldn't have said those horrible jokes. No, I mean, I didn't mean what I said, the cake was really good." he tried to say quickly, afraid you'd just brush him away. After listening to his words, you just sighed and said "You're really a jerk sometimes you know that ? Maybe I'm not good at some things, but it doesn't give you the right to bash me out like this in front of everyone. Do you understand Wooyoung ?" he looked down at his feet and nodded, muttering "I'm sorry". "Fine, if you're really sorry, you better cook something too" you smirked, a sign from you that you're half forgiving him. "What ? Wait-" he looked at you astonished. "I don't know what to cook" "Huh, well not my problem" you sticked your tongue out to him and caught his arm in yours.

Mingi:

Mingi's been aware that his words probably upset you. But he needed to find himself again, to get right on tracks by himself even if he was thankful towards you, taking care of him for so long and everything. But he felt like it was his duty to make his comeback to the team his, from A to Z. He hoped you would understand, but after you left him alone, he felt guilty to suddenly reject you. The first day of his comeback into the team, Mingi felt really nervous. He wished he could call you and talk to you as he used to, but since that day he didn't dare to contact you. Instead he sent you a long message, saying how much he missed you and felt really nervous. That he was sorry for what he's said and how much you counted for him. He knew deep inside his mind that you had understood his reasons to act this way, and he was right. After reading his text, you couldn't help but fall in love all over again for Mingi. He was so sweet and pure that you couldn't hold grudges against him. You texted back saying "Everything's gonna be alright. Fighting ! I love you" which reassured the rapper.

Jongho:

Although Jongho was the youngest from the team, he was really mature and hated childish behaviour when it comes for his relationship. The fact you got jealous and as a result, acted this way got him angry. For him, the fact he was dating you was a proof of his choice, and love. Things weren't bad with his ex, so he didn't see why he would cut the rope from her, and he expected you to understand his point of view. After calming down on his own, he also realised his reaction must not have been mature as well. He took more time to think about how he was going to reconcile with you, but things shouldn't stay this way. He expected you to be at your place, and directly knocked at the door, feeling nervous. "Y/N ?" he called out for you. It took a moment before you opened the door, clearly still furious about what happened earlier. "What ? Aren't you with Mina yet ?" you spatted out, maybe too agressive than you wished. Jongho took on himself not to react to this again, instead sighing softly. "Baby, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have reacted this way." he began, trying to be the most sincere he was. "You're the only one for me, you know it right ? But you see, Mina is indeed my ex, but it doesn't mean I'm on bad terms with her, and it also means that nothing will happen with her anymore. Because I love you so much and no one else"

#ateez angst #ateez fluff #ateez smut #ateez reactions #ateez imagines #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #mingi #Wooyoung #Jongho #san

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mermaidxatxheart · 3 years ago

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Better Together Chapter Eight

Here's Chapter 8, y'all. My work is not to be posted on any other site. If you'd like to be added to my tag list, send me an ask.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 4.9k

Warnings: language, violence, descriptions of torture.

Series Master List

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

You climb down from the tower, trying to dry your eyes. You dust your hands off and head for the lab. You don’t want to study these stupid flowers, you just want to forget that whole stupid fucking planet. Your eyes won’t stop watering, your throat thick and painful as you try not to burst into tears again.

You round a corner, glancing behind you as you wipe your eyes again. The skin around them is starting to feel raw as you rub them endlessly. There’s something in the middle of the walkway that shouldn’t be there. You turn back to look at what you’ve walked into, stumbling back as fingers wrap around your shoulders.

“Y/N,” Poe breathes, eyes fluttering closed.

Oh, Maker. Your lower lip trembles as you look at his beautiful face, the rejection from earlier swirling up and stifling you. Your eyebrows pinch against your will, eyes starting to squint as the tears threaten to overtake you. Fighting for control, you struggle to smooth out your forehead, but no matter how hard you try, it won’t relax. You inhale sharply through your nose and his eyes fly open.

“Oh, sweetheart.” He mumbles, pulling you in for a hug. It hurts, feeling him care about you this way. You don’t hug him back, keeping your arms rigid by your sides. If you let yourself give in, it will only make things harder. “Y/N, I’m so sorry.” He whispers, burying his face in your neck. “I didn’t mean… this morning…” he takes a shuddering breath. “Please? Just… pl-please.” He hugs you tighter, his voice breaking.

“Poe,”

“Don’t you think I want… if I let myself ki-“ he cuts off audibly. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.” He whispers.

“What do you want from me?” You ask, but it comes out colder than you mean it to.

“Forgive me? You have to know I would do anything for you. Anything you ask of me.”

“You didn’t do anything that needs to be forgiven.” You say softly, your arms curling around his back, your willpower crumbling.

“In my room-“ he starts.

“I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have put you in that position.” You sigh, turning your face into his neck. “Moment of weakness. Will you forgive me?” You ask.

His soft lips press into your neck and you shiver at the unexpected touch. “Nothing to forgive.” He murmurs, lifting his head up to trail up your neck. Your heart thrums erratically in your chest as his lips brush your jawline. “Please tell me you haven’t been crying all day because I’m an asshole.”

“No.” You say, barely more than a whisper. It’s all you can manage as his lips trail up your cheek. “I finished my report for Leia.” You say and he tenses. “Poe? I know… I know I don’t deserve it, but can we talk about the river?” You ask quietly.

“I liked the river.” He mumbles against your cheek. You desperately want to turn your head, to catch his lips with yours. Maker, you feel like you’re on an emotional rollercoaster, high then low, upside down, then backwards.

“I meant what happened in the river.” You correct.

“Liked that, too.” That earns a weak chuckle.

“You shouldn’t have.” You mumble.

“Y/N,” he groans, guiding you against the wall. He brushes his thumb along your jaw. “What’s bothering you? Tell me. You have so much that you’re not saying and it just breaks my heart.”

Your holopad beeps and you close your eyes. “I have to get to the lab.” You twist your face away.

“I have literally nothing else to do. We can talk on the way.” He says, taking your hand.

“You don’t have to.” You look at him suspiciously. “Why send poor Snap to my room earlier?” You ask and he tips his head back, laughing.

“For funsies.”

“Pando? What the hell was that about?” You ask, his fingers intertwined with yours.

“Lando Calrissian. You mentioned he was an inspiration of yours to become a pilot. I figured you would get the reference. Poe, Lando, we’re both pilots.” He shrugs and you roll your eyes.

“I mentioned Calrissian once, five years ago. I can’t believe you remembered that.”

“I remember everything.” He promises. “How was your caf?” He hints.

“Better than the one Bryce brought me. Thank you. And for the food.” You add and he beams, lifting your hands to trace your cheek with the backs of his fingers.

“Of course.” He looks at you before facing straight and keeping his lips pressed together.

“You might as well say it. You have a terrible sabaacc face.” You sigh, pulling him into the lab.

“I don’t like him. He’s been dating you for three years and still doesn’t know how you like your caf. It’s not hard. He’s a jerk. And I hate that he kept me from the med bay so I couldn’t see you. I hate that he acts like he owns you.” He picks up your protective lab coat and helps you slide your arms in. You wince in pain but quickly compose your face so he won’t see.

“Anything else?” You look up at him.

“Only a million other things.” He sighs, leaning against your lab bench.

“Tell me.” You say, catching his hand.

He lifts your hand to his mouth, lips parting slightly as he flutters his eyes shut. He inhales deeply, lips moving silently against the back of it.

“Didn’t catch that.”

“This is so fucked up to say, but I’m so proud of you.” He says. “When we were taken, you were incredible. I never should have put you in that position, but you didn’t say anything, not to save me, not to save yourself and, Maker, I’m so fucking proud of you. I didn’t know if I was going to be able to hold out when he started hurting you, but the fact that you weren’t breaking gave me strength.” He bows his head, clinging to your hand. “And I hate the fact that you think we went through all that because of you. None of it, none, was your fault.” He sighs, lifting his eyes to your face. “In fact, if it wasn’t morally the exact wrong thing to do, I would kiss you again in a heartbeat. Over and over. But you’re a good person and that wouldn’t be fair to you.” He murmurs softly.

“Poe,” you plead. It’s all you want, to kiss him.

“I know. I shouldn’t want that. You’re not mine to want that with, but I just… it’s in my head now. How good you taste, how soft your lips are.” He squeezes his eyes shut, cutting off his words and you squeak. You try to get your hands free, you want them in his hair, holding him to you.

“Poe, please!” You struggle and he drops your hands, hurt written all over his face.

“Okay.” He turns to leave and you grab his arm, pulling him back. You cling to his face, pulling his lips against yours. His hands grip your waist and you exhale in a rush. A massive weight is lifted off your shoulders as you kiss him, hold him. His lips part under yours and you moan low in the back of your throat. He clings to you, crushing you against him like he can’t get close enough.

Maker, you could stay like this forever.

He backs you into the lab bench, fingers pressing into your hips and you rock into him, starving. The door hisses open and he jerks back, spinning around and walking away a few steps.

Nya walks around the corner and looks up to see you fiddling with your holopad. Having barely recovered your wits, you grabbed the first thing your hands landed on.

“Y/N.” She greets with a smile. It’s fake and you want to slap her, but you just tighten your grip on your holopad instead.

“Nya. What are you doing here?” You ask, trying for polite at least and failing horribly. Poe smirks at you over the shelf he’s studying.

“Looking for you, actually.” She says, heading over and you internally groan.

“What did I do?” You ask and she laughs lightly.

“Nothing yet.” She promises. “Your plants are in bin Cin17.” She says, handing over the packet she’s holding.

“Oh. Thanks.”

She smiles at you and turns to walk away. You glance at Poe and he shrugs, coming back over. “That was odd.” He comments.

“Odd? That’s literally the nicest she’s ever been to me.” You sigh, turning back to your bench.

“I wonder why.”

“Maybe she wants something? Maybe she saw my outright panic attack in the dining hall and is getting off on my suffering.” You sigh.

“Or. On a slightly less negative note. Maybe she missed you? Maybe she realized she’s in love with you and now she wants to make it right and have babies with you.” He says and by the end, you’re laughing much harder than you should be. You double over, grasping your knees, your entire midsection aching for various reasons.

“Fuck, you’re gonna make me rip my stitches.” You gasp.

“It wasn’t that funny.” He mumbles.

“Oh man, you’re a funny guy, Dameron.” You pant, standing up and wiping your forehead.

“Thanks.” He mutters dryly. “May I ask what, exactly, was so funny about that?”

“Nya. Liking me? She’s so into dick, it’s all she talks about sometimes. Everyone who has one is in her sights. Especially you, Commander. And then babies with me? Come on. Get serious.”

“Just her? Or anyone in general is unbelievable?” He asks, an odd, stiff texture to his voice.

“I dunno. Anyone? I never really thought I’d make a good mom.” You shrug, heading for the containers now that you’re back under control.

“Really? I do.” He says and your face heats.

“Moot point at the moment. Bryce doesn’t want kids.” You say and he groans.

“Just when I think…” he rubs his face. “I gotta go. I’ll see you later.” He mumbles, swiftly heading for the door.

“Wait, Poe!” You call, half turning.

Too late. He’s gone.

***

You’ve never been punched before. Training was always hand to hand, blocking blows or fighting with weapons. They don’t teach you how to take a punch, or five, or twenty.

It doesn’t hurt at first. The impacted spot on your cheek just goes numb. You can feel the cut on the inside from your teeth against the sensitive tissue, but it doesn’t hurt. Yet.

Then after a couple minutes, it turns into a white hot pain. Couple that with fists landing all over your body, and you’re in pain like you’ve never felt before. Tears spill over your cheeks as the fist lands against your nose, cracking your head back against your prison table. You can’t see, can’t feel your face. Your mouth fills with blood, coating your tongue and spilling down your chin as you gasp for air. You can feel your lips split in different places.

There isn’t a part of you that doesn’t hurt, but you hold onto Poe. He didn’t give them anything, so you can’t either. You can’t let him have suffered for nothing.

The trooper stops, rolling his shoulder. “Answer me. Where is your base?”

You spit the blood out of your mouth at his feet. “That all you got? I was just getting into it.” You say and he grumbles, turning to leave for the time being.

You close your aching eyes and drop your head against the support. It’s not comfortable by any stretch of the word, but it’s better than having to hold your head up anymore.

The image from your nightmare flashes in front of your eyes, Poe fighting the invisible enemy, only now it’s not so invisible. A StormTrooper is wielding the blade, plunging it deep into Poe’s heart.

You jerk upright in your bed, upsetting your holopad and sending it crashing to the floor. You flip on the light, unnerved and feeling like you're not alone in your room. But there doesn’t seem to be anything there. Just your clothes on the floor.

You push yourself to your feet, not feeling safe here, and grab your blanket, wrapping it around your shoulders. You want to go see Poe, make sure he’s okay, be positive your nightmares haven’t gotten him yet.

But he doesn’t want to see you. Having avoided you for the rest of the day, you get the hint. A moment of weakness. That’s what that kiss was. You were there and he needed someone. Could have been Nya, probably for all he would have minded. Any port in the storm.

So, you bypass his room and head for the tower where you ate your lunch. It’s quiet, dark, you can see anything coming for you. You climb the steps slowly, feeling the familiar pinch of your stitches. They’re still ugly, crude, jagged. Maybe it’s good that Poe doesn’t really want you. No one could possibly love the new mutilated you. Bryce hasn’t seen them yet, either. You’re positive that the second he does, he’ll run for the hills.

Maker, you’re selfish.

You push open the door and a body in the tower makes you freeze. “Oh.” You mumble, realizing it’s Poe. “Sorry. I’ll leave.” You rush, ducking back down.

“Stay.” He croaks and you hesitate. “I can’t sleep. Stay and talk to me?”

“You sure you want me to?” You ask.

“I’d rather it be you than anyone else.” He admits.

You feel like leaves on the wind as you climb the rest of the way up. Swirling around in chaotic confusion. You don’t know which way is up, what to trust. You sit a little ways away, back against the wall, facing him.

“What do you want me to talk about?” You ask finally.

He drags a stick through the dirt, making scratch drawings. “I told you some stuff earlier. Spilled some of my guts. Anything you wanna tell me?” He asks finally.

“Yes.” You answer. It’s harder than you think to get these words out. “I…” you close your mouth, thinking about where to start.

“Not easy. To spill your secrets.” He muses. The pale moonlight ghosts across his face. He looks terrible. Tired, hurt, miserable.

“Anything you wanna ask me?” You prompt. “Maybe I can say it that way.”

He looks at you warily. “Will you tell me the truth?”

“Always.” You answer immediately.

“Why did you kiss me in the river?” He asks. “I’ve been thinking over it on a loop and I just can’t figure it out.”

“It felt… right. I needed to do it. I wanted to do it. You’ve always been the best person in the world to me, always taking care of me and looking out for me. And on that planet, I was losing my fucking m-mind, seeing things, hearing things. You were so patient, so kind, so… you. And I could feel tension. Not in a bad way, but pulling me towards you. I’m so sorry, Poe. I know you said I didn’t do it, but I can’t shake the feeling that if I hadn’t, if I hadn’t distracted you, you would have heard those troopers coming. You’ve never been so compromised on a mission before until you go on one with me. I fucked up so bad and I’ll never be able to forgive myself for hurting you like that.” You ramble, the dam broken and the words spill out everywhere. He doesn’t move in the shadows.

He doesn’t say anything for a long time. Your ears start to ring in the dead silence before he speaks again. “So, why kiss me in the lab?”

You sniffle quietly. “You admitted you wanted to do it again, and it’s been one of the dominating thoughts in my head since you saved me in that closet. I want to kiss you. And I like kissing you, but… the guilt… it just keeps reminding me that I’m hurting everyone. Every time I kiss you, I hurt Bryce. Every time I mention him, I hurt you. I can’t get it right. I’m turning into a plague.” You press your lips together.

“You had a nightmare in the cave. What was it?” He asks. You’re not even sure if he’s actually listening to your words, he gives no indication of hearing them.

“I,” you pause, having to think back that far. “I was hovering over myself as I slept. You were saying something but I couldn’t really hear it. Then I went outside, but it was into a First Order ship. And then I saw the tables we were attached to. And then two men fighting with lightsabers. And then…” you cut off, swallowing thickly. This part you remember, even though you wish you could forget it. “A-and then you. Y-you were fighting something I c-couldn’t see. It had a bl-blade and it killed you, stabbed you th-through the heart.” You say, gasping for breath. It feels like the surrounding air is crushing you. “I w-woke up and you weren’t there, I pa-panicked.” You twist your fingers into your blanket, hiding your face.

“Do you want to kiss me again?” He asks finally.

“Poe,”

“Do you? If you say no, I’ll never bring it up again.” He promises.

“Of course, I do. But it’s not that easy. I keep hurting you. I don’t know how not to. And being around you, it makes me happy, it makes it easier to breathe. I don’t wanna lose you. I couldn’t survive it.” You admit shamelessly.

“You won’t lose me. I won’t leave you.” He says. “One more thing.” He starts.

“Okay?”

“Do you hate the way dickhead doesn’t know how you like your caf?” He asks and you crack a tearful smile.

“Yes. It’s not hard.” You mumble.

“Come here.” He holds out his arms. “Come sit with me.”

You scoot over, resting your head on his shoulder as he spreads your blanket out over the both of you.

“I need you, too, you know. I can’t lose you, either. And if that means I have to kick Bryce from here to Tatooine, I will.” He says, nuzzling into your hair.

“Please don’t. You’ve been hurt enough on my account.” You close your eyes to him stroking your hair.

“No promises, sweetheart.” He's quiet for so long, you nearly fall asleep. “But I’m not gonna stop kissing you.” He murmurs against your hair.

With one last conscious thought, you dig into your pocket, reaching for his hand with your other one. Sleep is making your limbs like lead, heavy and clumsy. You feel him chuckle a little, placing his wrist in your fumbling palm. You place the chain in his hand, curling his fingers around it.

“Meant to give it to you earlier,” you mumble, almost certain you formed actual words.

“Y/N, ” he chokes, squeezing you tight. “Thank you.”

***

“You have to eat something.” He protests, guiding you down off the ladder. His chain is back around his neck, shimmering against his tan skin as it always has. Some day, he's going to give it to someone; someone he wants to spend the rest of forever with. Someone who isn't broken like you. Someone who actually deserves him. And you'll try to be happy for him, but you know it'll break your heart.

“Can’t you just… go get it for me?” You ask, feeling your hands start to shake at the thought of the crowd.

He smiles softly, brushing your hair back. “Sweetheart. No.”

“Poe…” you start and he cups your face.

“I won’t let anything happen to you, okay? I’ll be right there the whole time.” He promises. “But you have to eat. You need your friends. They miss you.” He looks around, noting the empty pathway. “If you need to leave, we’ll leave. Just say the word.” He presses a kiss to your forehead.

“It’s gonna be loud.” You protest as he takes your hand and leads you towards the commissary and dining hall.

“This early?” He scoffs. He pulls you along gently. You could stop him, you could let the tears free that have been simmering just under the surface since you got back. You know he wouldn’t push you to do it if you’re not ready.

But… he’s gone in there, he’s seen his friends. If he can do it, you can, too. You take an extra step, falling in next to him instead of being pulled by him and he smiles down at you proudly.

“There’s my girl.” He says softly. He holds your hand right up until you stop outside the doors. He lifts your hand to his mouth softly, eyes never leaving your face. “I’ll be right next to you.” He promises. You nod and he lowers your hand, reluctantly letting it go until not even your fingertips are touching.

He pulls open the door and lets you walk inside first. He doesn’t shove you in, instead, he waits for you to take a deep breath, smiling down at you until you straighten with a false sense of confidence, and step inside. He follows you, just barely touching your arm as he guides you to the line of food.

Despite his assurances that the room would be mostly empty, with shift changes and missions leaving early, the room is fairly crowded. You can feel his eyes on you, along with about a hundred others, but you feel better today. Stronger, even. You can do this.

You hope.

Poe picks up two trays and starts to put food on both, watching your face for positive or negative signs. You could do this yourself, you’re perfectly capable, but you like him waiting on you a little bit. Just this one time, let him dote on you.

He finds an empty table, just the two of you and he sits across from you, foot tapping against yours. They trickle over, slowly, one at a time. Your friends come to sit next to you. But this time, they don’t swarm you. They sit next to you, or next to Poe, talking to him about something trivial and you’re so grateful. It lets you get used to it again, being around people, acting human again.

You watch Poe, listening to him joke with Snap; Beaumont sets an apple on your tray as he tells Poe some gossip. And Poe sits there, listening and laughing to all of it. He interacts, partakes, and never once does he look uncomfortable or like he wants to bolt. You don’t know how he does it.

And then Lieutenant Connix walks behind him. She leans down to say something in his ear, her hand squeezing his shoulder as she talks. His hand lifts to cover her own as he twists his face to listen. After a second, he nods and she walks away.

You’ve always liked her, she’s friendly, smart, ambitious. But maybe you need to rethink your ideas. She walks quickly, her hips swaying, and you huff under your breath. Since when are she and Poe so close?

You try to listen, to distract yourself, but you can’t tear your eyes away from where the pretty girl disappeared through. Poe’s foot taps against yours and you flinch, looking up at him slowly. He smiles softly, his eyes falling to your ignored food.

You roll your eyes, picking apart your roll and taking small nibbles. After a couple minutes, Connix is forgotten as Beaumont regales the table with a story of how he got trapped in a wedding dress on Coruscant.

Soon, you’re laughing along with them. You forgot what this feels like, your face hurts from smiling so much. Poe’s beautiful eyes are on you, his own grin infectious.

A crack echoes across the big room and you jump, hands grabbing the table, ready to run. Your heart pounds in your ears and it’s like your vision completely leaves you. Snap’s hand settles on yours closest to him as he shouts something. Your brain slowly fades back in and you realize Poe has your other hand across the table and Beaumont is out of his chair, peering across the room.

Two mechs collided, neither paying attention to what was in front of them, their trays falling to the cement. That was the cracking noise.

Poe’s hand is shaking just slightly, hardly noticeable, as it covers yours, but you feel it. You twist your hand into his and he glances over at you. You smile softly, tracing your thumb over the back of his hand.

Beau sits back down next to you, his eyes searching your face for a minute before he grins. “Never boring, eh, Y/N?” He asks, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“I guess not.” You answer. You pull your hands back and pick up the apple. Poe is quicker than you thought possible, his favorite knife out and the handle pressed into your palm before you can even realize you need one.

You cut the apple in half, core out the middle on both halves and give the other half to your best friend. He’s abnormally quiet for a minute as he chews, and you wonder if maybe he’s not as okay as you thought.

“Wexley, what’s on the agenda today?” You ask Snap, half turning to face him, giving Poe time to recover.

“Well, I have a mission the day after tomorrow. So, I need to get my ship ready. There’s a part that’s being problematic. I have some mechs that are gonna look at it today and see if they can fix it.” He sighs.

“Well, if they have any problems, you can always come find me and see if I can help.” You offer and he grins.

“I just might do that.”

Once Poe is sure you’ve eaten all you possibly can without getting sick, he collects your trays and you join him to deposit them before leaving the room with a wave to your friends.

“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” He asks and you slip your hand into his.

“Thank you for making me go.” You say, leaning into his shoulder.

“Of course.” He smiles. “And… thank you.” He sighs, scratching at the back of his neck with his free hand. You cast your mind around, trying to figure out what he could possibly be thanking you for.

“I didn’t do anything.” You frown.

“With that stupid tray… you… fuck. How are you always so strong exactly when I need you to be?”

“Poe, I was ready to bolt. The only thing stopping me was you and Snap.” You tell him. “If you hadn’t grabbed my hand to keep me there, all you would have seen was my dust as I hightailed it out of there.”

He smiles softly, but it’s weak, a little broken. “I didn’t grab your hand to keep you there. I grabbed it to keep me there.” He admits, pausing outside the door to the lab.

You stare up at him, realization dawning much too slowly. “Poe,” you place a hand on his cheek and he leans into it, eyes fluttering closed. “Anything I can do, anything you need-I’ll always be here. You’re not alone.” You whisper and he pulls you close, kissing you softly.

Every time feels like the first time. His lips press against yours like they’ve known each other forever, no hesitation. He tips your head back, towering over you as you hold onto his shirt. His tongue is soft on yours, not domineering and controlling the way… someone else’s is… your subconscious blanks on the name, but it doesn’t matter, not when Poe is kissing you like his very life depends on it. No, like your life depends on it.

He pulls away, breathing slightly faster, forehead pressed to yours. His eyes are closed, but yours are open, drinking in every detail of his beautiful face. “Me and you, kid.” He agrees and you punch his arm, a smile already pulling at your lips. His eyes fly open and he rubs his arm.

“We’re the same age.” You glower and he laughs.

“I know. But you’re so much shorter.” He puts his hand on top of your head and you slap it away, turning towards the door with a huff. You’re about to swipe your keycard, but he pulls you back, plucking it out of your pocket. He swipes it and pushes the door open, letting you step in first.

“Will you stay?” You ask, reaching for your log books.

“Yeah. I don’t have anything else to do. I’m still technically on leave, recovering from…” he trails off, but you get the picture.

“Alright.” You start checking off your supplies and notes while he moves around your lab. You don’t pay him much attention, there isn’t much trouble he can get into. But you feel better having him around.

He looks through every box on the supply shelves, every glass container. You look over at him, catching his eye being magnified through a specimen jar. He looks so ridiculous that you can’t help but snort at him. He grins and straightens up, coming over next to you.

“Didn’t find anything you liked?” You tease, flipping through the last of your notes.

“Oh, I found plenty I like. Just nothing I can take right now.” He sighs wistfully. Your face heats, so you keep your gaze directly away from him. He chuckles and sits in the spinning chair next to your bench.

Chapter Nine

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starryhyuck · 4 years ago

Text

falling star (m) | prince!hyuck

pairing: donghyuck x reader

words: 7k+

summary: you’re betrothed to the handsome prince donghyuck, but when your life is put in danger, you’re unsure if you can trust him.

genre: fluff, angst, smut

warnings: prince!donghyuck, princess!reader, soulmate!au, mentions of death, unprotected sex, public sex, sex in prison lmao, impregnation, little bit of voyeurism

basically i rewatched moon lovers and i turned this fic into a kdrama,,, thank you for 1k followers!!

terms to know:

gongju - princess

jeonha - king

seja-jeonha - crown prince (next in line for the throne)

wangja - son of a king and a concubine

daegun - prince, but not made to be king

You first experience heartbreak when you are only three years old.

You watched as your mother faded before you, her life escaping her body as she consumed the dark poison hidden in her tea. You remember all of the servants rushing to her aid, screaming for someone to fetch the physician. It wasn’t until minutes later that someone realized you were still in the room, carrying you away as you cried for your mother.

Since that day, you’ve carried yourself with a heavy heart.

There were numerous whispers roaming around the castle — most of them talking about how you were a witness to your mother’s death, and how you never recovered. They weren’t wrong.

Your mother’s killer was never clearly identified. All of the servants in the palace had been thoroughly questioned but many false accusations were made and your father, who was in the depths of his grief, decided to kill the wrongly accused. He never launched a full investigation and instead, attended to you and your siblings to prolong the mourning period.

Your father became a more gentle king after his wife’s death. Wars ceased and the plantation in the kingdom became more fruitful after your father diverted the kingdom’s expenses. He did not take on any more lovers and focused on his palace and his children.

You, however, became cautious as you grew up in the palace, afraid that your mother’s killer still walks before you.

“Gongju, shouldn’t you be carrying out your duties?”

You blink when Mark rounds the corner, taking a seat beside you. The both of you rest peacefully underneath one of the blossoming trees, but you should know that your brother cannot keep silent for long.

“Donghyuck arrives today.”

“Good for him.”

Mark sighs. “I know you do not wish to be married, but-“

“But nothing,” you hiss, standing up and brushing off the dust on your skirt. Chaeyoung, your attending lady, rushes to your side once she sees your movement. She bows deeply in recognition of your brother’s presence. “If Taeyong wants to marry me off so carelessly, then so be it.”

“You know that’s not true-“

You don’t allow him to finish his sentence, walking off with Chaeyoung in step behind you. She says nothing but you can tell she wants to interfere.

Chaeyoung has been your best friend since you were younger, assigned to be your personal lady when you both were only eight years old. Chaeyoung knew you better than anyone else, and she understood your hatred towards your upcoming marriage.

It was only days ago when Taeyong, your oldest brother and crown prince, decided to persuade your father into finding you a suitable marriage. You were of age to be married and if you did not find a suitable partner in time, the palace would begin to murmur.

Donghyuck was a prince from a neighboring kingdom, sent by his brother, Moon Taeil, to arrange a marriage between you. Since Donghyuck was a result of one of his father’s affairs, he had no chance of becoming the king of his own palace. Taeil still loved his brother dearly and wanted to find him a good match.

Unluckily, that match was you.

You run into Taeyong on your way back to your quarters, and you offer him a bow.

“Seja-jeonha, nice to see you.”

He smiles tightly at Chaeyoung and asks her to excuse himself as he pulls you aside.

“You are supposed to be on the palace steps to greet Prince Donghyuck. He traveled five days just to meet you, you know.”

“Such a long time for something so disappointing.”

It’s clear Taeyong is distressed by your blatant disobedience. It’s not often a princess rejects a marriage offer, but you can’t help but be displeased. You’ve never wanted a conventional marriage and you hoped your father would never set you up for one.

“You’re lucky that Donghyuck accepted the offer. You know that most of father’s advisors wished to send you off like we did with Naeun. I’m grateful for Donghyuck so we could still have you in the palace.”

You know deep down that Taeyong means the best. He hates when his family is separated, and all of you were particularly saddened when Naeun was married off a year ago, leaving the palace to be with her husband. Because of the long travel and royal duties, you haven’t been able to see her since she left.

You understand why he wants you to get married so quickly. If you don’t marry Donghyuck now, your father’s advisors would convince him to marry you to another prince from a far kingdom.

You sigh. Although you don’t want to get married anytime soon, you’d rather stay in the palace than be forced to leave. “I understand, Taeyong. I’ll play my part if I need to. Is he at least good-looking?”

Taeyong laughs. “Yes, he’s quite handsome.”

“Excuse me, seja-jeonha.” Eunuch Kim bows deeply as he stands in front of you two.

“You can just call me Taeyong, Doyoung. We’ve been over this.”

You know, however, that no matter how many times Taeyong says it, Doyoung could never go against the honorifics.

“Gongju’s presence is requested at the front of the palace. Prince Donghyuck is arriving soon.”

You purse your lips. “I’ll be right there.”

He nods, bowing before stepping away. Taeyong envelopes you into a hug.

He whispers in your ear. “This is what’s best for you, forgive me.”

“You don’t need to be forgiven,” you mumble back, feeling slightly guilty that you’ve made your brother think so.

Once you part, you smile at Chaeyoung, who has been waiting patiently for you.

“Shall we?”

You two make your way to the front steps of the palace, where most of the palace is eagerly waiting to see the prince.

“Jeonha,” you greet your father, occupying the spot next to him. He smiles at you.

“You look lovely today. Excited to meet Donghyuck?”

You offer him your best fake smile. “Of course.”

Soldiers announce Donghyuck’s arrival before the gates of the palace are opened up for him. He comes in riding his horse, stopping in front of the palace steps and dismounting. He’s quick to bow and you’re a little taken out of breath.

Taeyong was right. He’s very handsome.

“Welcome, Prince Donghyuck,” your father shouts for the palace to hear. You can spot your other two brothers, Jeno and Seokmin, murmuring with each other as they eye Donghyuck. “We’re grateful that you have made the long trip to our kingdom.”

Donghyuck is listening to the king’s words yet he hasn’t taken his eyes off of you.

“Yes, I appreciate that jeonha has so graciously allowed me into the palace.”

You stare at him the same way he stares at you, and your father grins happily.

“Eunuch Kim will show you to your temporary quarters.”

Jungwoo is pushed forward by Doyoung, who gives him a stern expression. Jungwoo was new to the palace and Doyoung often needed to take care of him since he was head eunuch.

Donghyuck is escorted off and your eyes follow his figure.

Your father chuckles. “You two will get along just fine.”

—

Contrary to popular belief, Donghyuck hasn’t visited you since his arrival.

You’ve spent days waiting for him in your room, working on your studies and watching your door in case it swings open. You’re disappointed by his lack of interest in you, especially because you can still feel the warmth of his gaze from your first meeting.

You find out later from Jungwoo what he’s been up to.

“Wangja has been having trips with daegun, did he not tell you?”

Your eye twitches. “Donghyuck has been with Mark this entire time?”

“Yes, gongju. They have been eating together in the dining hall. I apologize for not telling you earlier.”

Jesus, was Donghyuck trying to marry Mark?

“It’s fine, Jungwoo. I’ll find them myself.”

He bows and you take off in search of your brother and fiancé. You ask Chaeyoung to stay behind and she takes to arranging your room in the meantime. You find the two figures near the river, and you narrow your eyes.

“Having fun?” You call out, and both of them turn around. Donghyuck bows at the sight of you.

Mark chuckles. “Yes, we were actually just speaking about you. Come join us.”

“No, it’s alright. I’ll leave you two to be acquainted with each other. It’s not like I’m the one marrying him after all.”

Mark rolls his eyes at your tantrum but Donghyuck seems to be thoroughly alarmed at your distress.

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

You, however, are highly offended and turn the other direction. You hear footsteps quickly follow you.

“I apologize, gongju. I did not mean to upset you.”

You sigh at the sound of Donghyuck’s voice. “Why have you not come to see me?” You question in a small voice.

You can hear the smile in his tone as he walks alongside you. “In all honestly, I have never been in the presence of such beauty before. I hope you can understand that I was a little intimidated.”

You cough, slightly embarrassed. “Where did you learn that from? I know Mark couldn’t have taught you that.”

He chuckles. His eyes are once again focused intently on you.

“I’m afraid no one has taught me anything. I was telling the truth, much to your dismay.”

You two walk on the palace grounds as the moonlight illuminates your figures. The servants nearby whisper at the sight of you two together.

“Well, regardless of your fear, I would enjoy if you would take my company. We are going to be married in case you’ve forgotten.”

He grins at the clip in your tone. “I remember quite well. I would love to have dinner with you tomorrow if you desire my company so badly.”

You ignore the smirk playing at his lips.

“Tomorrow shall be acceptable. I hope you will be able to step up in the future, Donghyuck, as I am not content with marrying a man who doesn’t speak to me.”

He laughs. “I apologize for disappointing you.”

You turn to face him as you stop in front of your quarters. His eyes are locked with yours, and he seems intent on staring at you until you grow more and more bashful. You think he’s about to lean in until-

“Ah, there are the two lovebirds!”

You huff at the disruption. Seokmin slides next to you, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Has my sister been living up to your expectations, Prince Donghyuck?”

Donghyuck smiles and you can tell he’s a little upset by Seokmin’s arrival. His heavy gaze is still focused on you.

“She’s been exceeding every possible expectation if I’m being truly honest,” he murmurs.

“Well, that’s the first time I’ve heard someone say that.”

You elbow your brother’s side. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

“Nowhere else to be but with my lovely sister and her fiancé!”

You roll your eyes and shove his arm off of you. You step forward to open the doors of your personal area in the palace.

“Well, I’m going to bed.” You turn around once again to face Donghyuck. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

He smiles. “I’ll count the minutes. Sweet dreams, gongju.”

You enter your quarters in time to hear Seokmin say, “Smooth talker, aren’t you?”

You shake your head and smile, closing the doors behind you. You chew on your bottom lip and laugh. Who knew a prince would turn your insides into mush?

You greet the guards awaiting by your bedroom door and settle inside. Chaeyoung has made you your nightly tea, something you drink each night to help you sleep. You often had sporadic nightmares about your mother’s death and it was hard to fall into slumber most days.

As you raise the cup to your lips, the smell wafts through your nose.

It’s the same smell from when your mother was poisoned.

“Guards! Guards!” You call frantically, and they burst into your room, eyes scanning for any intruders.

You drop the cup of tea, watching as it shatters all over your floor. “Gongju!” One of the guards yells, rushing over to you and pulling you away from the scene.

It all happens frantically then — your father and brothers are all brought over when they hear that you’ve almost been poisoned. Jeno holds you as your father commands all of the guards to find the perpetrator.

The only thing you’re able to envision is your mother’s body lying on the floor, completely lifeless before your eyes.

—

“It wasn’t her!”

“How can you be so sure? She’s your closest servant and the only one who would have access to your room during those ungodly hours!”

“It’s not Chaeyoung!”

“Enough!” Your father commands, his voice booming throughout the throne room. You scoff and turn away from Taeyong.

He’s convinced that Chaeyoung was the one who put the poison in your drink, but you would never believe that she would bring harm into your life. You trusted her with every fiber in your being.

The rest of your brothers are oddly silent, and you presume that they agree with Taeyong. Your father is stricken by grief at the idea of losing one of his daughters like he lost his wife. His judgment is clouded, much like it was seventeen years ago.

“Please jeonha,” you beg him. All five of you are facing the throne and you almost sink to your knees. “Please do not allow this person to get away again.”

Your father glances at you solemnly.

“It has to be him,” Jeno speaks up. All of your eyes dart over to him. He stands proudly, eyes locked on your father. “Lee Donghyuck just arrived and our sister was almost poisoned. This cannot be a coincidence.”

Mark furrows his eyebrows. “It’s not him! I’ve been spending the past few days getting to know him.”

“He’s spent the past few days deceiving you,” Seokmin hisses at his younger brother. “I agree with Jeno. I was just outside of gongju’s quarters with him when she almost consumed the poison. It is too suspicious for us to not investigate, jeonha.”

“He wouldn’t,” you frown, coming to Donghyuck’s defense. You had only known him for a matter of days but you knew, deep down, that he would never try to maliciously hurt you.

“You trust too easily,” Jeno scolds. He turns his attention back to the man sitting on the throne. “I think we should launch a full investigation on both Lee Donghyuck and Park Chaeyoung.”

“It’s not them!” Your exclaim in horror, trying your best to undo your brothers’ words. “Please, jeonha! Please don’t convict the wrong murderer!”

You try your best to plead with your father, but he’s made up his mind.

“Jeno and Seokmin, I want you to conduct the investigation immediately. Find out who did it.”

You drop to your knees, sobbing in frustration at your father’s ignorance.

—

It’s late at night when you sneak into the palace prison.

You’ve managed to climb out of your window, hidden beneath one of your dark ensembles. Mark has been helping you unlike the rest of your family, distracting the guards long enough for you to enter the prison grounds.

You scramble against the cell door when you catch sight of Chaeyoung. She looks like she’s in incredibly poor shape — her face is completely drained of color and her body is limp against the wall.

“Chaeyoung!” You whisper, awaking her from her sleep. Her eyes widen at the sight of you, rapidly getting up and crawling to the door.

“Gongju, I did not do it, I swear-“

“I know you didn’t, Chaeyoung,” you assure her. She relaxes at your words. “I’m going to find out who did. Can you tell me what happened when you brought the tea into my room?”

“I just did my normal routine,” she explains breathily. “I brought the tea to your room, left a cup out for you, and went back to my own quarters. It’s the same thing I do every night. I didn’t notice anyone unusual when I left.”

“And the guards? What about them?”

“They were in their usual positions, standing beside the door and waiting for you to return from your walk with Donghyuck. That’s all I can remember, I swear.”

You nod. “Don’t worry, okay? I’m going to get you out of here. Just tell Jeno and Seokmin exactly what you told me.”

You hear a commotion outside and your body stiffens. You can hear Mark’s voice trying to distract the guards and you quickly stand.

“I’ll come back to see you again, okay? Don’t worry.”

Just as you’re about to exit the prison, you hear another voice calling out to you.

“Not even going to acknowledge your loving fiancé?”

You pause. Mark is slowly making progress outside, choosing his method of distraction as telling the guards a story about how he once ran straight into a wall.

When you turn, you see Donghyuck in his own cell, knees bent to his chest as he leans against the cold wall. You feel guilty that he’s put in this place but you’re reminded of what your brothers said — you barely know this man. For all you knew, his true intentions coming here were never to marry you.

“Did you?”

There’s a pause. He laughs. “Do you think I did?”

“I’m not in the mood to decipher your encrypted messages.”

“Gongju, when I confessed to you that night, I truly meant it. I’ve never been with a woman before and seeing such a perfect one become my fiancé took me by surprise. I thought we had a mutual understanding of one another.”

“We barely know each other,” you reply under your breath.

“But you felt it, didn’t you? You felt that connection between us. The astronomers say that when the timing is right and the stars align, soulmates find each other.”

You’ve heard the tale before. Your mother used to tell it to you when you were younger. Astronomers used to tell her that when there was a falling star, soulmates would align for each other. Your mother always liked to say the story of how you were born under a fallen star, your soulmate being brought to you by the universe. You believed her stories when you were younger but as you grew up without a mother and never feeling her warmth again, you could no longer believe in such tales.

“Do you think that’s what we are? Soulmates?”

He stares at you again, his eyes acting like dark hooks in your soul. He doesn’t get a chance to respond before the guards burst in through the door, and you can distinctly hear Mark shouting from a distance.

“I’m sorry, gongju, but you must be escorted back to your quarters. You are not allowed to see the prisoners.”

You glance at Donghyuck, who for the first time, isn’t looking at you. He’s merely staring at the floor.

“Very well then. Please escort me.”

As you trek back to your room, you question your head guard, Johnny. “Did you see anyone enter my room that night?” He immediately shakes his head.

“No one unusual, gongju. It was a very normal night, but I do not believe that Chaeyoung would bring something so vile into your place of comfort. I hope I’m allowed to speak on these matters.”

“You’re more than allowed, Johnny,” you guarantee him. “Thank you for being honest with me.”

“Of course.”

Before Johnny brings you inside, you glance up at the night sky. There are two stars huddled together, perfectly placed in the darkness.

Was Donghyuck your soulmate?

—

It’s only a day later when Moon Taeil arrives on palace grounds in search of his imprisoned brother. He’s clearly irate, dismounting from his horse and grabbing the nearest guard.

“Show me where he is!”

“Seja-jeonha!” You cry out, rushing over to him and pulling the guards away from him. He turns his attention to you.

“Is this how you treat my brother after I sent him to marry you? Excuse my manners, gongju, but I did not bring Donghyuck here for him to be put to death.”

“He won’t be! Please, seja-jeonha, let’s speak privately,” you plead. He finally comes to his senses, gazing around to see servants and eunuchs watching the scene unfold. He straightens his outfit and nods.

“Fine. Show me the way.”

You accompany Taeil to a nearby building, away from the prying eyes of the palace. You know you don’t have much time to speak before your father finds out of his presence and instructs a formal meeting in the throne room.

“My brothers suspected Donghyuck because of poor timing but I know he has not committed any crime. I need you to help me prove that he’s innocent.”

Taeil scoffs at your request. “What kind of game are you running around this kingdom?”

“Please, seja-jeonha. I don’t want Donghyuck to be convicted either.”

“Because you’re soulmates?”

You freeze. “How do you know that?”

“You two were born a month apart and on each of your birthdays, a fallen star was spotted in the sky. Our astronomers noticed it when they first came to visit your palace.”

“Wait, Yuta was your astronomer?”

Taeil chuckles. “Yes, he was. His father used to document star patterns and when Yuta visited and learned of your birth date, he informed Donghyuck immediately.” Taeil smiles at the thought of his younger brother. “Why do you think we arranged a marriage for you two so quickly?”

Your head is spinning. Donghyuck has known this entire time that you two were soulmates, and that’s the reason Taeil pushed the marriage between you two. The gravity of the situation dawns on you, especially now that your soulmate rests behind the bars of the palace prison.

You grab Taeil by the shoulders. “Tell jeonha immediately. He believes in this — he believes he and my mother were soulmates. He will spare Donghyuck if you tell him.”

The doors to the building swing open and Eunuch Kim takes a deep bow in recognition. “I apologize for interrupting, seja-jeonha, but jeonha is requesting your presence.”

Taeil gives you another look before following Doyoung back outside. It isn’t long until Mark finds you, his arms embracing you into a hug when he sees your stricken expression.

“What is it? What happened? Is Taeil threatening a war?”

You shake your head and bury yourself into his shoulder. He holds you steady.

“Donghyuck is my soulmate.”

You think Mark would be deep in thought or surprised by what you revealed, but he simply giggles.

“He mentioned that.”

You pull away and frown. “What are you talking about?”

“When we were by the river, he said you were his soulmate and that he was destined to be with you. I thought he was just trying to impress me since I’m your brother. Now that I think about it, maybe it wasn’t a joke,” he mumbles, scratching the back of his head.

You almost see red. You tackle Mark to the ground and he screeches. Some of the servants file in, attracted by the noise.

“You dumbass! You let me throw my soulmate in jail!”

“I didn’t know, I didn’t know!” Mark shouts, shielding his face as you slam your palms down on his skin.

Jungwoo rushes in, pushing the servants away and clambering over to the two of you.

“Gongju, daegun! Please don’t fight!”

You huff, separating from your brother and standing up. You straighten your chima and stare down at him with fire in your eyes.

One of your ladies ends up pulling you away while Jungwoo helps Mark off of the floor.

Seojeong, who has been your main attending lady since the accusation against Chaeyoung, looks at you worriedly as you storm off. She follows behind you along with the rest of your attending ladies.

“Gongju, are you alright?”

“I need you to do something for me, Seojeong,” you murmur as the palace prison comes into view. There are still ten guards blocking the entrance and you need to talk to Donghyuck before your father makes a decision about his fate. You fear that your father will feel guilty for imprisoning Donghyuck and he’ll send him back with Taeil.

“I’ll do anything,” she promises.

You turn her body so that she’s staring directly at Johnny. “Do you see him?” When she nods, you proceed with your plan. “I need you to go up to him and tell him that jeonha instructs for all of the guards to be in the throne room.”

She stutters at your request. “But jeonha never said-“

“I know jeonha never said. Tell Johnny anyways.”

You give her a little push forwards, ignoring the timid look on her face. You quickly dismiss the rest of your ladies and hide behind a nearby corner, peeking out to see Seojeong approach Johnny anxiously. You hear her small voice fill the air.

“J-Jeonha requests for t-the guards to be in the throne r-room,” she says, eyes glancing down at her feet.

Johnny raises an eyebrow. “Our orders are to stay here until a verdict is made.”

“Um,” she mumbles, trying to think of what to say next.

“Come on, Seojeong,” you hiss under your breath. You can see her gathering enough courage before she speaks, eyes ablaze.

“Don’t you understand? You have new orders! Hurry before jeonha gets angry at your blatant disrespect!”

That gets Johnny’s attention. He grabs his right-hand man, Jaehyun, and all of the guards scramble frantically towards the throne room. You smile at Seojeong’s work and once all of the guards have left, she gives you the okay.

You rush over and hold her hand. “You’re a lifesaver, Seojeong.” She beams at your compliment. “Keep an eye out for me, okay?”

She nods and you enter the prison building, descending down the concrete steps. You gasp when you see Donghyuck in his cell, body slumped over against the wall.

You fall to your knees and struggle to open the door. He wakes when he hears the commotion. His mouth slowly turns upwards when he sees you. You finally manage to throw the door open, swinging it to the side as you crawl over to him. You cup his face in your hands and he laughs.

“Excited to see me?”

You don’t waste a single second, pressing your lips to his. His hands fly down to your waist, pulling you in closer. He groans when you straddle his hips.

He pulls away, a little breathless. “Is she asleep?”

“Who?”

“Chaeyoung,” he murmurs, pushing his fingers through your hair. “Is she asleep?”

“I-I don’t know. I didn’t check on her.”

He calls out Chaeyoung’s name and when he gets nothing but silence, he pushes your body onto the floor. You gasp when he attaches his mouth on your neck, licking and sucking at the flesh.

“D-Donghyuck, we shouldn’t. We’re not married yet-“

“We’re soulmates,” he whispers against your skin. “Isn’t that enough?”

You moan when he reaches underneath your clothing to run a finger over your slit. You feel dirty on this prison floor, letting Donghyuck take you the way he wants. He brings his lips to yours again and you cry out when his tongue enters your mouth. He frantically undresses you and you’re embarrassed when he strips you down until you’re in your sokgot.

“Don’t be shy,” he speaks softly. “I’ll take care of you.”

You whimper when he fully rids you of your clothing. He sits up to undress himself and your mouth waters as he exposes himself to you. He discards the rest, throwing it to the side and leaning back down to kiss you. His hand cups your breast and your body twitches when he flicks his finger over your nipple.

“Such a good girl,” he praises you.

You gasp when his cock prods at your entrance. Your eyes dart down and they widen at the sight of him. He’s massive, and you’re unsure if he’s going to fit inside of you.

“Wangja, um, I don’t think-“

He snickers at your reaction. “Don’t think you can take it, baby? Don’t think you can take my big cock?”

You groan. “N-No, I can take it.”

“Good girl,” he smiles. He grabs his base and runs his tip over your folds. You moan at the feeling.

Both of your eyes widen when you hear voices outside, and Donghyuck pauses.

“Seojeong, I’m not sure what you mistake us for, but we do not enjoy being treated as fools.”

“Fuck, baby, we have to be quick. Can’t have anyone seeing their gongju acting like a whore,” he hisses.

You whine. “Hurry, Donghyuck.”

“I’m here, I’m here,” he assures before pushing his cock inside of your weeping pussy. You cry out at the burn, tears brimming at your eyelids.

He releases a long groan when he bottoms out and you close your eyes, trying to adjust to his length. You can faintly hear Seojeong’s voice.

“I thought jeonha needed you! I didn’t know, Johnny, really-“

“You good, baby?” Donghyuck speaks lowly to you, brushing stray hairs away from your face so he can properly look at you. When you don’t respond, he rubs your hip gently. “Baby, tell me how you’re feeling.”

Your eyes flutter open when the pain begins to subside. “Good, good,” you blubber incoherently. You reach out for him and he intertwines your hands. “Hurry.”

He starts thrusting into you and you whimper. He leans down to press a kiss to your lips.

“So dirty,” he hums. “What would the palace think of their graceful gongju getting railed in the filthy prison cells? Can’t wait until you have our baby, then everyone’s going to know how much you like to get fucked.”

“Want to show them,” you murmur, eyes rolling back as his thick cock abuses your small pussy. “Want to tell them I’m your whore.”

“Yeah? You’re just my filthy whore, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes, I’m all yours, wangja.”

You feel the pleasure building inside of your tummy, feeling every ridge and vein of his cock as he pounds into you. You swear he’s going to split you in half.

Seojeong is doing her best to distract Johnny outside.

“I need to tell you a story!”

Johnny is far from amused. “I have to check on the prisoners, Miss Seojeong-“

“It’s about the princess!”

Jaehyun sighs. “Seojeong, we don’t have time for a story-“

“But listen!” She exclaims, the gears in her brain turning. There’s a long beat of silence. “Um-“

Johnny rolls his eyes, entering the prison building and moving down the steps. He briefly pauses when he hears your moan.

“Wangja, please, please, please!”

Jaehyun thinks that you’re in danger and runs past Johnny, stopping in his tracks when he sees you and Donghyuck. The prison cell door is wide open, fully exposing the both of your figures as Donghyuck plows into you. Jaehyun immediately diverts his eyes when he catches a glimpse of your breasts.

He hurriedly pushes the men away from the sight, although none of them are able to get a peek.

“Move back! Move back!” Jaehyun orders. The guards scramble on the steps as Jaehyun forcefully moves them.

You wail when your orgasm hits, stars exploding in your vision. Donghyuck soon empties inside of you, painting your walls with his cum.

You’re both left panting and he kisses you gently, hand cupping the side of your face.

“Got to explain to your guards what you were doing.”

You laugh. “I was getting fucked. What is there to explain?”

He growls. “Dirty mouth on you, gongju.”

“Only for my wangja.”

—

Jaehyun can’t look at you in the eye when you exit the prison doors. Johnny has an idea of what happened down there, but he doesn’t want to even picture the idea of you doing such a lewd act.

They both escort you back to your dwelling after Johnny gives you a light scolding for breaking the rules again. When you arrive at your bedroom doors, you turn around and offer them a small smile.

“Sorry.”

No other words need to be said, and the redness of Jaehyun’s ears say enough.

Johnny coughs. “Jeonha spoke with Taeil earlier today and Donghyuck will be released tomorrow. I thought you would like to know.”

You cough. “Um yes, that’s good to know. Thank you, Johnny.”

You walk into your bedroom and shut the doors, still feeling embarrassed that your guards caught you in such an intimate position. You turn around, frowning when you see that you have company.

“Seokmin? What are you doing here so late?”

Your brother smiles at you, sitting down at the small table near your bed and gesturing for you to join him.

“I thought we could have a talk.”

You shrug, wincing as you sit across from him. Your legs still feel like jelly after Donghyuck gave you a good fucking.

Seokmin pours a cup of tea for you and puts it in front of you. He gives you that friendly grin of his.

“What have you been up to all day? I heard you almost killed Mark.”

You roll your eyes. “He’s being dramatic. I barely scratched him.”

He chuckles at your dismissive nature. He eyes the cup in front of you and gives it a small push.

“Drink up. I know you like to have tea before bed.”

“Thank you,” you murmur, taking the cup in your hands.

Seokmin starts speaking about how Jeno lost in combat today and you hum, raising the tea to your lips. You pause when you smell it.

The poison — you could smell it from miles away.

You pretend to drink while you watch your brother. There’s no way it’s Seokmin, your loving and devoted brother who used to play hide and seek with you when you were feeling upset. The brother who protected you when the palace was invaded by rebels. The brother who cared for you so deeply.

But you didn’t have time to think. Only time to act.

You slam the cup down and call out for Johnny. Seokmin lunges across the table at you and you release a bloodcurdling scream.

Johnny and Jaehyun storm inside and Johnny pushes Seokmin off of you. Jaehyun pulls you aside, checking for any bruises on your body.

“Stupid bitch! Why can’t you just drink your fucking tea-“

“Daegun, daegun!” Johnny bellows, trying to get a hold of your brother.

You’re in a state of shock, attempting to register the sight before you. Your brother just tried to poison you.

Jaehyun gets you on your feet and pulls you away from the scene. Soon enough, the palace hears Seokmin’s screams and Taeyong is the first to rush to your aid.

“What happened? Is that Seokmin?”

“Daegun tried to poison gongju,” Jaehyun explains. You’re still rooted in place, staring at your quarters as multiple guards flood inside.

“What?”

Mark is the second to arrive but before he can ask what’s wrong, Seokmin is dragged out of the building, screaming and thrashing under Johnny’s hold.

“You’re traitors! All of you!”

You watch as your brother is taken away into the same prison where your fiancé sleeps soundly.

—

You swear you can hear crickets chirping. You and your siblings have been called into your father’s bedroom after Seokmin’s arrest. The room is eerily silent for no one knows exactly what to say.

Taeyong clears his throat. He’s been crying, and you know this hurts him more than you can imagine.

“Why? Why would he try to hurt his sister?”

Your father sighs. He’s been pacing back and forth, struggling at what to say. You need an explanation from him as you cannot accept that Seokmin grew to hate you overnight. It wasn’t in his nature to ever accept that form of hatred.

“Jeonha, please,” Mark begs, on the verge of tears. “Why has he done this?”

“We need an explanation,” Jeno adds.

Your father finally glances at all of you, troubled by the grief in your expressions. You look exactly as you did when your mother passed.

“Seokmin is not your mother’s child,” he explains. All four of your heads dart up. “He- he was conceived through a concubine, but your mother was gracious enough to raise him as her own. We’ve accepted it since then. Seokmin was raised no differently than the rest of you, and we loved him just the same.”

You blink, rubbing at your temples to try and process this information.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes, but the damage is done. “I never wanted to tell him because I feared this would happen, but I guess he found out somehow.”

Something clicks in your memory.

“Where is his mother?”

He exhales, running a hand down his face exasperatedly. “She was a servant here in the palace, but she left shortly after your mother passed away. She didn’t want anything to do with raising Seokmin.”

Your mind starts putting the pieces together. “She was a servant — a servant who had access to mother’s residence?”

Taeyong’s eyes move to you, catching what you’re implying. You step forward and look at your father dead in the eye.

“Don’t you see, jeonha? She was the one who poisoned mother. She was the one who had access to her room, the one who brought her tea every night. She’s the reason why Seokmin tried to hurt me, she must’ve brainwashed him into believing that we no longer care for him.”

Your father stares at you, taking in all of the information you’re telling him.

“But Seokmin knows,” Jeno interrupts. “He knows we care for him. I refuse to believe this! He was probably put up to it by that nasty Lee Donghyuck!”

“Hey!” You swivel around, growling at your brother. “Do not speak that way about him.”

Jeno scoffs. “What? Have you fallen for him?”

“They’re soulmates,” your father explains.

“Come on. Tell me you don’t believe in that!”

“Lee Jeno, I swear-“

Mark quickly holds you back before you charge at your brother.

“Listen,” your father’s voice booms throughout the room. You all freeze. “I know you are all upset by what Seokmin has done, but we are going to do our best to reverse whatever his birth mother has done to him. I’ll have the guards and soldiers search for her so we can bring your mother justice. In the meantime, I want you all to remember that we are a family. You grew up together and only we know the faults of our family.”

You eye Jeno and he narrows his gaze at you.

“You all are siblings, blood related or not. Do you understand?”

“Yes, jeonha.”

—

Seokmin is released from his confines a week later.

He cries when he sees you, enveloping you into his arms and sobbing into your shoulder. He apologizes profusely for his actions, stating that he would never try to bring harm to you again.

For five days, you all spend time together as siblings in an effort to turn Seokmin back into his normal self. You hold no grudges against your brother, loving him with all of your heart despite his brief wrongdoings.

Seokmin’s birth mother is arrested and taken into the palace, where she awaits your father’s verdict. You have a feeling about what future lies before her, but you would rather not speak of it out loud.

Donghyuck is released with Chaeyoung shortly after the incident. You embrace him fully when he returns and Chaeyoung becomes your main attending lady again.

You and Donghyuck are arranged to be married tomorrow. Taeil is still a little hesitant on having his brother live in a place that treated him so cruelly, but Donghyuck finds a way to convince him that he’s safe. Taeyong says that Taeil’s only fine with it because he sees the way Donghyuck dotes on you. He’s attending the wedding tomorrow before he has to return back to his own kingdom.

Donghyuck is supposed to separate from you until the day of the wedding, but he’s been sneaking into your room every night, pounding you into the pillow until you cry for mercy.

It was more difficult for him to sneak out tonight as your brothers wanted to officially welcome him into the family with a special party. He managed to get away when Jeno stands on the table, trying to dance but failing miserably.

He currently has your legs bent to your chest, thrusting deep into your weeping pussy.

“Such a tight pussy,” he hisses down at you, wiping the tears falling down your face. “Made for my fat cock, aren’t you?”

You respond incoherently, drunk on the feeling of him. He reaches down to rub at your clit and you sob louder, muscles aching.

“Good thing we’re getting married tomorrow, baby. Would be too suspicious if you got pregnant so fast, wouldn’t it be?” He questions, smirking at your loss for words. “Is my gongju fucked dumb? Can’t remember how to talk, baby?”

“F-Feels so g-good,” you blubber. “You feel s-so good i-inside me.”

“Yeah?” He laughs, plowing into your pussy faster. “Baby likes when my cock stretches her small pussy? I wonder how your brothers would feel about me if they knew I dump my cum into their sister every single night. Jeno would probably hate me even more.”

“G-gonna cum, gonna cum!” You screech, hands flailing. He pins your arms down and snarls.

“Cum all over my cock. Show me how much you want your wangja.”

You cream his cock and your back arches in ecstasy, moaning loudly at the pleasure overtaking your body. Donghyuck shoots his cum inside your womb, hissing as he empties himself.

He collapses next to you and you whimper when his cock leaves your hole. He brings you into his arms and kisses the top of your head.

“Can’t wait to be married to you.”

You laugh, your chest still rising from your heavy breathing. “If you had only waited 24 hours, we would already be.”

He chuckles. “Where’s the fun in that?”

You bask in the silence as his cum starts to spill out of you.

“I think I’m pregnant.”

“Good.”

He attaches his mouth to yours and you moan when his fingers part your folds. He lines himself up to your entrance once again.

“Let’s make sure.”

And so Donghyuck fucks you until the sun rises, marking the long awaited wedding day with your soulmate.

You thank the heavens for giving you your falling star.

#nct smut #nct scenarios #hyuck #haechan smut

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ieattaperecorders · 4 years ago

Text

May You Find Your Rest

Somewhere else. Two men who were not born in this reality lie in bed together, hold one another and unpack a few things. (Just 4k of cuddling and talking about feelings, really.)

Read on Ao3

---

It's dark in the small, quiet room where they sleep. Not completely, neither of them feels entirely safe in the dark anymore, so the curtain is always parted to let a sliver of light in.

Curled against Martin, Jon is warm and still and finally thinking of nothing. He's just starting to drift off when he feels him reach over and plant light, careful kisses on his cheek, on his temple, on the top of his brow. He sighs with pleasure. It would be so easy to keep drifting, to let himself sink into sleep as the one he loves kisses him softly and sweetly. But instead he opens his eyes, not really knowing why he does it.

Maybe it's the way Martin moves, slow and deliberate. Maybe there's a subtle a hitch in his breathing, something Jon senses without seeing or understanding. Something that tells him he shouldn't go to sleep. Not yet.

So he lies listening to the silence as Martin's hand moves over his side, outlining him. It nudges itself under the hem of his nightshirt, tracing the softness of his waist. Then, as if this hadn't been its destination all along, it brushes the wide, ragged scar over his stomach. A twinge (not sharp, not much more than a tingle) runs through his body. His breathing barely changes – it's not a gasp, just a slightly deeper inhalation. But Martin notices, hand hesitating, drawing back.

"Does it hurt?" he asks, and he sounds so horribly solemn.

"Not really," Jon says quietly. "Just a little sensitive. Scar tissue."

Gently, he places a hand over Martin's and presses it down into his abdomen, until it's covering the center of the scar. Jon has scars that are sensitive in other ways. Martin has learned to be careful around the thin line that cuts across his throat. Knows there are days when the chewed circles that pockmark his body itch uncontrollably, when he'll scratch himself bloody if he isn't thinking.

(In the safehouse, Martin had pulled the hand from his face and whispered don't. Had kissed his scars over and over, until he couldn't feel the itch, could only feel the gentle pressure of his lips and his kindness and love.)

He wants to say, it doesn't hurt when you touch me here. To show Martin that his body won't flinch from his touch. It wouldn't be his fault if it did. It wouldn't be either of their faults. But it doesn't, and he needs him to know that.

The hand relaxes against him. It moves in a slow arc, finding the edges of the wound, mapping and knowing it. Jon keeps his own hand in place, letting it move with his.

"I'm sorry," Martin says.

Jon brings a hand to his cheek. "So am I."

He wonders what Martin is apologizing for. For cutting the tether, letting them out? For the wound that could only be made by his hands? For not being able to let him go? No . . . Jon doubts he would be sorry for that.

Maybe it isn't an apology at all . . . maybe he's just sorry. Sorry he had to be hurt again.

"So am I," he repeats. "But it's done. We're here, now. Together, and alive. Despite it all."

Martin's head rests on the pillow, gaze turned to the side. He's subdued in a way that feels meaningful but that Jon can't identify. So he says nothing, lies still and lets his hand trail up the side of Martin's face, over his temple, around his ear. Affectionate touch, easier and less confusing than the jumble of words and questions swarming in his brain.

After a long silence, Martin says, "I wish you had trusted me."

" . . . What do you mean?"

"In the Panopticon. I just wish you'd trusted me enough to go along with the plan."

Jon frowns. "I . . . don't know if that was about trust."

"Wasn't it, though?"

"I didn't do what I did –" he pauses, rephrases. "I didn't kill Jonah because I thought you were lying, or going to betray me, or – or controlled by spiders. I didn't think your intentions were anything other than what you said. But I couldn't bear the thought of what we were doing . . . or I thought I couldn't. Clearly I could. In the end."

"Yeah. Well. Turns out both of us did things we didn't think we could," Martin says bitterly, thumb still tracing the scar.

"Funny how often that happens."

"You could have trusted that I knew what I was doing."

"But you didn't. None of us did . . . no one could in that situation."

"That includes you, you know," Martin frowns. "You kept going on about all you knew, but even you said you weren't unbiased. You don't think maybe the idea that the only way out was global euthanasia had anything to do with your own baggage?"

Another twinge, sharper this time. Without realizing, he'd pressed Martin's palm down harder than he should have, in where the nerves were still healing. He eases off.

". . . Maybe," he says eventually. "Probably. I doubt any of us were unbiased. How could we be?"

"But it was your biased plan you decided to go with. Like you always do. You always think you know better than everyone else--"

"I don't think that's entirely fair."

"It's not entirely unfair either."

He feels something stirring defensively in him. Then he stops. Assesses. "No," he says eventually. "I suppose it's not."

The hand is warm against his stomach, and he can feel the dampness of sweat just forming between their skins. It's not pleasant or unpleasant, just something he can feel, and he focuses on it for a while.

"You didn't trust me either, you know," he senses an objection coming, and he heads it off. "You were right not to. I wasn't trustworthy. You thought that I would go behind your back, and I did."

The tension that was rising deflates a little at the admission, and Martin's voice is gentle when he says, "you did."

"But I don't think you were lying when you said you trusted me." Jon adds. ". . . Do you?"

" . . . Fine, I get it. Trust is complicated and all that," Martin sighs, "it just. It hurts."

". . . I'm sorry."

Martin nods, is still for a moment, then leans forward and kisses him once. He kisses back.

"Do you regret it?"

"Which part?"

"Killing Jonah. Not waiting for us. Trying to go the other way."

Jon thinks of the hours before it happened. Of whimpering into Martin's chest, almost pleading, begging him to see. Horribly aware that Martin was as deeply set in his feelings as Jon, that there would be no budging for either of them.

He thinks of the moment he spent watching Martin's sleeping form, just before he climbed those stairs. Seeing his brow creased with unquiet dreams, and knowing that he was about to hurt him. He thinks of the terror, the dawning horror that fell over him as he saw what it all had been leading to.

"I don't know," he finally says. "I regret the pain you went through . . . I regret making you feel that."

There's a curved line trailing over Martin's forehead, just above his eye, which Jon follows with the edge of his thumb. The one on his shoulder is larger, took ages to heal, and there are more that travel down his back and arms. Places where the rubble struck him, before they both unraveled.

The scars aren't really what Jon is referring to when he talks about pain. But he supposes they're a part of it too.

". . . Do you?" he asks.

"Do I what?"

"Regret any of it?"

"I'm not sorry that I didn't let you stay in that tower and kill the entire world, if that's what you mean," he says firmly. "I'm sorry, but I'm never going to regret that."

"No . . . I wouldn't expect you to."

"I wouldn't have told the others to start if I'd known you'd already done it. But if I'd known that . . . that would've been it, right? We'd be stuck there."

"Unless the others went behind both our backs."

"What, you think Melanie wanted to stick a knife in you that badly?"

"I don't know about wanted. But I think Basira could have done it."

"Yeah . . . maybe."

". . . I'm sorry that I went behind yours."

Martin breathes into the space between their bodies, a long and expressive exhale. "I know. . . And I know you were hurting. And scared. I do know that."

"We both were."

"Yeah. Yeah . . ." he sighs. "I forgive you for it. I do. I don't want to hold onto that."

Jon finds Martin's hand in the dim light, pulls it closer to himself and kisses it. He hesitates – not sure if he should say this, should even acknowledge it – before linking their fingers together and pulling the hand back to his stomach, over the place where the knife went in.

"I don't need to forgive you for this. That is – I, I don't believe there's anything to forgive? It was what you had to do, and it was what I asked for. But . . ." he pauses, hesitates. "I know guilt can be an insidious emotion--"

"Oh, do you?" the lilt of sarcasm does not go unnoticed. Jon ignores it.

"–And I want you to know . . . if you feel like you need to be forgiven for it, you are. Entirely and unconditionally."

Martin nods, moving his hand off the scar and over around Jon's side. As he leans in for another kiss he grips him a little more firmly, his touch seems less hesitant and Jon is glad that he said something after all.

"Anyway, I was right, wasn't I?" Martin says after a moment. "We're here. We're in another world, and things are fine. It's normal. Maybe the fears are here, but it's not an apocalypse. Maybe it never will be."

That makes Jon frown. "You don't know that."

"Neither do you."

"And we never will," he says firmly. "We won't ever know the cost of what we did. Maybe it balances out. Maybe it doesn't. Either way, you and I won't have to feel it."

"At least it's normal here. You're not even an avatar," Martin says, and Jon nips back the impulse to quibble about the nature of that term. "You haven't been having the dreams, and you haven't needed a statement since we got here."

". . . I'm still feeding the Eye." It isn't until he sees the look of confusion on Martin's face that it occurs to Jon he didn't already know. "I don't have the power I once had, or the same needs," he explains. "But I feel it sometimes, using me as a conduit. It's as if the signal's fainter, but the receiver is so much more sensitive."

"Do you know it's happening, though, or are you just guessing?"

"I'm not sure how it happens, exactly. Maybe it just grazes off the fear I witness when I see something terrible on the news, or pass by someone in distress. Maybe in time it'll push me to seek out more, to force myself into other peoples' tragedies in service of the Beholding. Or maybe it never will, and I'll stay this way for the rest of my life."

Martin's brow furrows, and his voice is insistent, pushing back with some need Jon can't quite understand. "Okay, but it's not like you're actually hurting people--"

"No . . . I am," he says firmly. "And I am certain of that. It might be more subtle now . . . a lingering feeling of invasion, or paranoia. Or a trauma that would have otherwise passed leaving a decades-deep mark." He stares thoughtfully at his own thumb. "It feeds through me, and I give it strength. On some level, my existence still depends on the suffering of others. That's one consequence we can't avoid."

Martin is quiet for a long while. ". . . Guess it doesn't matter, right?" he finally says. "It's done. Can't undo it."

"No. Not any of it." He shakes his head. "It's funny, really. All my paranoia and suspicion, all my worry that the Web would slip an agent in under our nose, and the whole time I was looking in the wrong place. Seeing and seeing and never understanding."

"What do you mean?" Martin fidgets, and Jon wonders if he's said something he shouldn't have, though he can't guess what. "Looking in the wrong place?"

"I mean myself. The mark when I was a child. The lighter I could never remember. Even the tapes they sent to press on my wounds, keeping that anger fresh. All of it leading to that moment."

". . . Oh." Martin sighs. "Yeah, Jon. They manipulated you, that's what they do. They manipulated all of us."

"They did. And I was more theirs than I ever realized."

He feels Martin's fingers tapping against his side, thoughtful. After a moment, he speaks. ". . . She said that about me, too. Annabelle. That I was suited to the Web, or something."

"I imagine she'd say anything she knew would rile you up."

"She was right, though. At least a little bit . . . ." he takes the edge of Jon's sleeve between his fingers, twisting and fidgeting with it. "When we were down there, waiting, I could feel you coming through the web. The vibrations just spoke to me, I knew Basira was with you even before I saw her."

That surprises Jon. Startles him, even. He feels Martin fidget again, and in his mind he plays back what do you mean, looking in the wrong place. Notices the quiet nervousness in his voice. Considers how deep and old Martin knows his hatred of the Mother of Puppets to be.

"I always knew," he says, voice light and casual, "that there had to be a reason you'd defend anything as vile and repugnant as the common house spider."

Hearing Martin laugh, feeling that tension release in a sudden startled lungful – it's beautiful, it's a victory, and he smiles as Martin nudges into his shoulder. Halfway between a gesture of affection and a headbutt.

"Arsehole," he mutters. "It's not just that. I know I'm . . . well, I'm not always great at being direct. And maybe I can sometimes be passive-aggressive . . . ."

"Well—"

"You don't have to agree with me."

". . . Right."

"But that's sort of Web stuff, isn't it? And I – I was always good at telling Peter what he wanted to hear. I know why she said what she did."

"Mmm." Jon lifts Martins' fingers from where they're worrying at his sleeve, rolls them between his own. "You've learned that it's safer to nudge and suggest than to be direct. To make yourself look smaller than you are. I can see the . . . thematic overlap, I suppose. Imagine it drawing the attention of the Spider."

". . . Does that bother you?"

"Well I'm not worried you're some spider-controlled double agent," he says, then adds something under his breath.

". . . What was that last bit?" Martin lifts his head.

"Nothing."

"Did you just mutter ‘anymore?!"' he asks incredulously.

"My point is, we call to them in countless ways, often without knowing or wanting to," he sighs. "Besides . . . I'd hardly be in a position to judge. They had their strings on me from the start."

"That makes you a victim of them. Not an agent or an avatar."

"Martin . . . ."

"Don't ‘Martin' me, I'm right."

"Do you really think the two are incompatible? Being a victim of a power, and being a channel through which it feeds on others? After all you've seen?" his voice softens. "After all you've been through . . . after the Lonely?"

Martin goes quiet. Jon runs his fingers over his shoulder, absently stroking.

"In the end, I chose to be theirs. With it all falling down around us, I saw what they'd known I would do from the very beginning. I witnessed my fate laid out for me and instead of defying it, I ran towards it."

". . . You still regret it, don't you? Letting them out."

"I don't know, Martin. Truly, I don't," he says. A smile starts, then dies on his lips. "There's so much I regret nowadays, it's honestly hard to keep steady how I feel about most things."

A vague, hmm sound, an expression of some emotion that Jon can't guess at, though he suspects that wasn't what he'd wanted to hear. He brings both his hands up, cupping the sides of Martin's face between his palms. Martin startles, but says nothing.

"Most," Jon says, looking back at him seriously. "But I know how I feel about you. That doesn't change. And I don't regret staying with you."

The beginnings of tears form in Martin's eyes, and there is quiet in the room as Jon brings his face to his. Brushing a soft kiss over his mouth, the trails on his cheeks, the space above each closed eye. He doesn't stop until Martin shudders, swallows, and speaks again.

"I love you," he whispers.

"I love you too," Jon says. "And I'm glad that I'm here. I'm glad we're together and alive . . . whatever else comes with that."

Martin shudders again, a weak and pained sound coming out of him. It's all Jon can do not to pull Martin's face into his chest and let out a thousand desperate apologies, to self-flagellate, to beg forgiveness for ever allowing any pain to come to him. He sensibly quiets that urge, because he knows it's the last thing Martin needs. It's the last thing either of them need.

"Do you promise?" Martin whispers.

"Promise what? That I love you?" Silence follows, and Jon frowns, confused. ". . . I do promise that, if that's what you mean."

Instead of answering, Martin silently reaches between them, fumbling for Jon's hand and squeezing it tightly.

"Some nights I pretend to sleep," he says after a pause. "Or, well. Pretend's too strong a word . . . I just lie quietly in bed. But I'm waiting for you to fall asleep first."

Jon's fairly sure he lost the thread of this conversation, and he doesn't know where or how. ". . . Why?"

"Because I'm scared I'll wake up and find you gone."

"Oh. Oh, Martin . . . ."

"I don't-- it's not that I really think--" he shakes his head, "just sometimes can't let go of the thought of it, and it scares me." A wry smile crosses his face. "Which power feeds on that, you think?"

"I mean –"

"Not actually looking for an answer, Jon," he sighs, a mixture of affection and irritation. "Anyway, I think we both know which one it'd be."

He nods. Holds Martin's hand, rubbing the knuckle of his thumb. "I don't know what I can say . . . I can tell you that I won't leave, that I'll be here when you wake up. But I don't suppose that helps unless you can--" he hesitates, not wanting to say trust. It's starting to feel like a deeply troublesome word, both imprecise and emotionally weighted, the sort Jon tends to despise. ". . . believe me?"

"I don't actually think you're going to just vanish in the night someday. It's hard to explain."

"It's unlikely that we'll live to see another ritual for me to be the apocalyptic tipping point of."

"There's still more . . . ordinary things."

"Don't tell me you think I'm going to run off with one of the locals?" He raises his eyebrows, smiling, lets a teasing superiority into his voice. As if he considers the people of this reality to be below their station.

Martin doesn't laugh or smile. He gives him a look, like he's being stupid on purpose. Jon half wants to tell him it's completely involuntary.

"You don't need a bottomless coffin or an all-seeing eye to run off and martyr yourself. People do it with their own hands every day."

And now he understands. Now the thread comes back, winding itself directly around his throat.

". . . Come here," he says, though there are scant inches between them. Martin does so anyway, fitting himself into the space between Jon's arms, head tucked into his collar, legs twining with his. Jon's hands run over his shoulders, through his hair, down his back. He kisses the crown of his head over and over, pouring it all into touch and action until he can find the strength for words again.

"I love you," he whispers. "I'm not going to leave. Not that way . . . not in any way I have control over."

"Seeing his body there next to you . . . it felt like when I was coming back from the shop, and the sky went dark, and the ground started reaching and –" he swallows. "E-everything had gotten so horrible but we finally had a way out, a chance to start over. And then it was just gone again."

And Jon's heart is breaking, and he's afraid if he speaks he's going to start crying, but he can't be silent after that. So he tries.

"I'm so sorry . . . ."

"I know . . . I know." Martin sniffs. "It's not . . . I'm not looking for that. Honest. I just . . . ."

He goes quiet for a while.

"I know you were in pain," he continues. "The night before it all happened. I know – I knew that it was killing you, what we were about to do. It wasn't that I didn't care. But I told myself that someday – even if it wasn't right away, someday you'd be glad we'd done this. Because there'd be a someday."

". . . Maybe I would have been."

"And maybe you wouldn't have. I didn't know. I don't know. We'll never know. But I know you were hurting, and that's just it. Because I also know it . . . s-still hurts."

"I couldn't do that to you."

"We've both done things we thought we couldn't do," Martin says humorlessly.

"Right . . . I take your point."

"I know you feel guilty," Martin whispers, "and you – you just said that while you're alive others are suffering –"

". . . Yes."

"I know how tempting it can be. To just give in to it."

"I know you do."

"So . . . ."

Martin trails off, helpless. Jon feels helpless too. He clumsily feels for Martin's hands and brings them up against his own chest.

"Whatever else I feel, I promise you that I'm glad I'm alive," he says, holding their hands over the place where his heart still beats, steady and warm and living. "Even when it's difficult to bear it all, I'm glad that I'm alive and with you. I want to build a life together, here and now, more than anything. To take whatever chance we've got."

He wonders what Martin is looking for as his eyes trace over his face. Whatever it is he seems to find it, or maybe just trusts that it's there, because he takes a shuddering breath and nods.

". . . I believe you," he says.

"Thank you," Jon breathes deep, feeling the sharp heat behind his eyes fade as he blinks his own tears away. "And . . . I can hope that we made the right choice. Really it's all either of us can do, anymore."

"True."

They lie together in the silence. Martin slides his arms around Jon's sides, resting his head against his chest, and Jon feels the rhythm of his pulse next to his ear. His body is heavy and real, meat and bone, tangled up together with one that he loves. He feels the heat of Martin's breath as he sighs, the gentle weight, the tickle of hair, the hard ridge of skull beneath it. Abject, bloody systems of life.

". . . Martin?"

"Hmm?"

"Thank you . . . for coming back."

In the dark he feels a smile against his body. ". . . Which time?"

"Any. All."

"I always will," he whispers. ". . . Thank you for staying."

"That's the deal."

"Yeah. . . yeah." Martin lets out a long, steady sigh. "That's the deal"

Jon feels Martin's limbs relax around him, grip loosening as eyes tiredly close. He twines his fingers through Martin's hair, stoking softly and sweetly as his beloved drifts. Jon doesn't close his eyes just yet, instead watches the face that rests against him slowly go slack in the moonlight. Thinking that maybe tonight, Martin will fall asleep first.

#jonmartin #tma #tma spoilers #tma finale #tma fanfic #me every time i post a new fanfic:#oh no THIS is the most self-indulgent one #every other *cuddling and talking about feelings* fic was dignified and okay #but THIS ONE oh nooooo

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kyluxtrashpit · 3 years ago

Text

Okay so I jokingly mentioned I have an entire rant on twitter and then people wanted to see it so I’m gonna crosspost here too cause why not

(Note: includes spoilers for Major Grom and Plague Doctor comics, has nothing to do with the movie. It’s regarding what I strongly predict will happen in volume 8, which comes out next week)

(Second note: I’m gonna tag this with ‘long post’ even though it’s behind a cut for the sake of mobile users to go blacklist literally right now if they’re not interested cause I included the relevant comic panels and thus it’s LONG sdklsdklsdks)

Anyway: why Sergey must be the one to personally rescue Oleg in volume 8, from a narrative point of view

In order for Sergey and Oleg's relationship, regardless of how you want to define it, to move forward with positive momentum, this /must/ happen. The narrative demands it in order to bring closure. Why? Well, let's get into it by analyzing what we have so far

1) While I do fully believe Oleg trusts and forgives Sergey (and I’m not gonna go into proof of that here, as others have before), there is a constant spectre hanging over them. A spectre in the shape of 5 bullets. We are reminded constantly of it, largely in the form of Sergey's guilt, which is something we haven't gotten any real closure on yet. Sergey believes himself only capable of destruction, which is literally represented using a picture of him and Oleg.

The rift in their relationship is why Sergey doubts himself. The lasting physical effects bother him as well and we are all but beaten over the head with it - Sergey can't forget and neither can we, the audience. Oleg, too, has to live with this, even if he has made his peace with it

In fact, his long term injuries are what cause him to be captured in the first place. This situation, from a narrative pov, is thus Sergey's fault - if not for the 5 bullets, it's implied Oleg could've won. But no, he's captured and tortured, because of what Sergey did

What Oleg does or doesn't think of that is honestly irrelevant; the narrative is what's setting this up as a direct consequence. Also, whether or not Oleg has forgiven Sergey is also irrelevant because Sergey hasn't forgiven himself. This is what the story has presented and thus what it needs to conclude.

2) We are all also aware that Oleg has rescued Sergey more than once, even when it was ill-advised. The first time, sure, there's some risk, but it’s still in the range of manageable. But the second time? Not only was it more dangerous, given all that was going on in the immediate aftermath, he’s also risking himself to rescue someone who shot him 5 times. Oleg is cautious; he keeps Sergey in a cell presumably until he feels safe freeing him, but he still did it. He planned it, had that place ready, faked their deaths, all of it. He did that after the 5 bullets

So Sergey isn't lying when he tells Lera they don't leave their people behind. Oleg has been there for Sergey before, rescued him no matter the dangers, continues to stay by his side, and even cares enough to make sure he sleeps. Given this, how could Sergey not be ready and willing to return the favour?

3) Every outside character who knows anything about their relationship believes it to be imbalanced. The mercenary, Altan, Vadim, and even Lera. They all say this, they all point out the 5 bullets, that oh, Oleg, why does he stay?

While they don't have the insight us readers do, this tension is here for a reason, especially coupled with the previous two points. Even if we know better, the narrative is offering us a kernel of doubt. Does Sergey really care? Will he go as far for Oleg as Oleg has for him? Did he really mean those apologies? Or are the others right? Even Oleg, although I do think he's lying to protect Sergey, says he has doubts. Vadim seems certain Sergey will come, yet still calls Oleg “Mr. Stockholm Syndrome”.

The equality of their relationship is continually called into question - why do that if it's not going to be resolved? Why play this 'will he, won't he' game if he won't? Why set us up for disappointment? If Sergey doesn't go, all of this will remain unresolved and their relationship can only get worse, not better. The spectre will never leave them alone.

(One note here: I believe most of these perspectives are from unreliable narrators, given what details they give and that their accounts conflict with what we actually see. But these perspectives are included for a reason – imo, so that Sergey can prove them wrong)

4) The other thing the narrative tells us is that Sergey can be impulsive. Yes, he's brilliant, frighteningly so, but it's Oleg that is constantly urging caution. Sergey is aware there are risks, yet he forges ahead anyway, restrained (sometimes) only by Oleg's advice.

Why would that change now? If anything, with how distressed Sergey seems to be, I'd argue he'd be even /more/ impulsive than usual because he's too emotional to think right.

And who's going to urge caution, if not Oleg? Lera? I doubt he would listen if she did and, to be frank, why would she care if Sergey gets hurt? She knows him primarily as the one forcing her into a situation that is having serious negative effects on her life. Her secondary knowledge is that he's a murderer and terrorist. Much as it's fun to think of them all having a friendly relationship, Plague Daughter and all that, that’s not where they are right now. She might from a logical point of view, just because it is very obviously a trap, but Sergey knows that - her saying it isn't going to convince him of anything. Even if she did try, I don't think it'd have any effect.

5) And lastly, Lera is absolutely not ready for this fight. This isn't some regular asshole on the streets; Vadim is a professional killer. He beat Oleg in a fight and, even with his injuries, we all saw the kitchen fight. We know what Oleg is capable of. I love Lera with my whole being and she is a badass, but she's not ready for this. She had trouble with Kamenny, who honestly may have let her win under Altan's instructions.

Even still, Vadim is MUCH better and, much as Altan wants PD alive, I don't think he much cares in what condition. Best case scenario is that Lera gets captured too, and Vadim likely wouldn't hesitate to kill her, and then Sergey has to go himself anyway. Lera may come to help, but Sergey needs to be there. If Sergey really is better than Oleg at present, he's the one who needs to fight Vadim (with a plan, obviously, and maybe some extra backup).

In conclusion, all of this comes together to say one thing: Sergey needs to go. He needs to prove to himself, to the audience, and most of all to the narrative that no, this relationship isn’t one-sided, and that he will go as far for Oleg as Oleg has gone for him. The narrative made this a big point of tension, insisted upon it, beat us over the head with it, and now has teased at Sergey’s opportunity to put up or shut up. It has to be Sergey, both practically because Lera isn’t ready yet, and in order to be a satisfying story. Because if he doesn’t, that tension isn’t resolved. His guilt will only grow after failing Oleg once again, despite Oleg sticking with him through everything, and it would have been by his own choice, not because of the Bird’s influence or anyone else. He will know it. Oleg will know it. We will know it. And their relationship can only sour from there. There will be no more possibility for positive momentum, only negative.

As a last point, I will also say that I’m aware my anxieties may be unfounded. These creators do seem to legitimately care about these characters, telling a good story, and satisfying the audience. But I’ve been burned by pieces of media where that is not the case, so it’s hard for me to trust and not doubt, even with creators who have, so far, not let me down lmao.

Anyway, thank you for coming to my tedtalk, I’m sure I missed something I would’ve liked to add but holy shit this is absurdly long already sdklsdklsk so uh bye ✌️

#serovolk #сероволк #sergey razumovsky #сергей разумовский #oleg volkov #олег волков #чумной доктор #plague doctor #bubble comics #meta #hey everybody friendly reminder I was a meta writer before I wrote fic skdlsdksld #lmao anyway enjoy... whatever this is #my cats have heard it enough times and twitter has been spammed to hell with it #so now it's your turn tungle friends!#shut up nerd #text #long post #major grom

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