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winterzsurprise · 13 days ago

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Change My Mind [7] PREVIEW

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 1.9k

I'll still try to finish this, I looked at the word count of this chapter and felt bad being unable to continue for a long while. If you haven't seen the notice, I'll be on a hiatus cause the AO3 curse has finally visited me and made me extremely unlucky lmao. Might light up a couple cleansing sticks because wth is happening to my luck

So here's a part of the intro here for you all before I go. Thank you all for your support of Change My Mind!!

_____

Jung Hoseok is not scared.

Sure he screams bloody mary at the sight of bugs a thousand times smaller than him, and yeah he’s easily startled but he’s not scared.

Especially not by a piece of paper, that would be ridiculous!

The reason he went to his noona’s house instead of heading straight to the dorms after the news broke out that his Seokjin hyung is tethered to you is because she needed his help on something, and being the dutiful brother he is, swooped in to save the day!

“At least wash the dishes for me if you’re going to hide in my house because you’re being a scaredy cat,” Jiwoo says from the kitchen archway, leaning on the wall with her arms crossed. “I still don’t get why you’re so scared of a piece of paper. The most it’ll do is give you a small cut.”

“Well, that ‘small cut’ still stings a lot!” He argued back, pulling the throw pillow closer to his chest. “And I’m not scared!”

It was irrational how he’s getting cold feet at the thought of the blood result. It’s not like he was hoping to see anything other than ‘negative’ there.

Jimin would argue that he’s being pessimistic for thinking so but it was the obvious answer if you looked at his family tree.

From his grandparents’ parents and down to him and his sister, there hasn’t been a single tethered from his bloodline like most of the world’s population. Unlike his Jin hyung who at least had one distant cousin who got a soulmate or his Yoongi hyung who at least had his grandparents as soulmates, his family was barren from such a blessing. His grandpa had joked once, saying their family was cursed for never birthing a single tethered. Ever.

Not even the people they end up with.

For him to turn out to be a part of your nexus would be a miracle of the highest degree that would make the tales in the bible pale in comparison.

Daring to have himself tested is stupid, he already knew the result and submitting his DNA meant he was hoping.

But hope is nothing in the face of facts, he should be wishing instead; prayer sticks and shaman blessings and all that.

Hoseok knew he was being greedy, he should be wishing to be a part of a nexus relationship as crowded as yours. Growing up with the rest, he knew how much of a handful Jungkook can be on his own, matched with Jimin who now possesses bottomless energy, he has no business trying to squeeze himself in places he can’t fit in.

Sometimes he thinks he’s being influenced by the fact that he’s being singled out in the group. Now that their oldest has joined the harem, being the odd one out oddly felt ostracizing, being subjected to Taehyung and Jungkook discussing courting gifts, and Yoongi talking to Namjoon about their soulmarks shouldn’t have made him feel bitter but it did.

“You saying that while pouting on my couch, miles away from your friends who now have your exam result, is not helping your case.”

“If you don’t have anything nice to say to your brother, you shouldn’t have said anything.”

“I’m saying a lot because I care about you. This,” She says, motioning to him to which he replied with an offended look. “Isn’t healthy. The more you’re hiding away, the more this will haunt you.”

“You’re just saying that because you’ll have hyung over soon.”

“That I am, so just get your shit together and go! I planned a night for us but I had to move it because of you.” She shot back but he knew it had no actual snark behind it. She had welcomed him with warm arms after all.

Hoseok had seen how his friends slowly fell in love with you while he continued to look at you and see a best friend. Seeing how everyone seems to have been captured by you, he got curious.

For a long time since debut, Hoseok had stopped perfecting his craft and pursuing his aspirations to pay attention to someone else. It was uncommon but he too once wished for a soulmate until practice, video shoots, and music production began to eat up most of his time and he forgot about his initial wish.

Seeing his brothers be taken by their best friend and make up artist, he couldn't help but be curious how it came to be.

Was it because you were closer to their age and, for the lack of better terms, accessible to them that they had begun to seek the comfort of a lover in you?

“Do you think because she's also been busy with us that she began to seek comfort with us too?”

“Tae, just eat your breakfast.”

It was such a random thought from Tae one random morning, and Hoseok would’ve brushed it off like the other time he gets struck with an idea but this one stuck to him like an annoying ex. The idea loomed over him the whole journey to the company and back home. He grew hypersensitive to how he approached you since that morning and he began to notice the miniscule details he would’ve shrugged off any other day.

From how your touches would linger on their skin, how you’d comfortably lean in closer to them without batting a single eye at how unusual it may seem to others, he took note of them ll. It was how he knew their leader’s feelings for you, even if the man himself hadn't noticed it yet.

Hoseok found his proof in Namjoon’s eyes that restlessly roamed the room until he’d find you in the bustle of the staff. It was also in the way he’d always reach out for you, may it be when you’d turn to leave and he’d catch a drama-esque scene where instead of calling out for your name, Namjoon would reach for your hand and speak to you with that soft look in his eyes and the deepness of his dimples when he smiles.

Eyes never lie nor do the dimples on his cheeks as he grinned, even when the beholder hasn’t realized it yet.

It was then did he realise how odd your relationship is with them and decided to take a step back to draw a line. Friends, especially ones whose gender are opposite of each other, aren’t supposed to be as touchy and comfortable the way you and his brothers are. You didn’t say anything when you noticed and wordlessly respected his decision. He was firm on drawing the line, his sister had questioned his actions but he’s determined, nothing is going to stop him from going back on his decision.

At least until he got sick.

Without any of his brothers available to tend to him as they had to leave for Japan the very day he fainted—he had to pass out while talking to the migration officer, so embarrassing!—, he thought he'd power through it alone for a few days. But then you volunteered to stay back to take care of him and everyone just let it happen as if it's normal.

Which is not.

He'd understand taking care of him during the job but to take a leave of absence just to watch over him because his family is unavailable due to the rough weather at the time, in a house far too big for the two of you while the rest flies to another country. It wasn’t appropriate, not normal at all.

In the haze of his high fever, he had asked you how you were acting as if the situation was normal and in response, you had hit him lightly with the drenched towel you used to wipe his face.

“Don't be ridiculous. You're one of my best friends even if you’ve been acting up these past few days. I'm not about to leave while you're sick and alone in the dorms. If your family could come to Seoul, I would've left with the others so don't overthink. This is just me being a good friend.”

Cooking for him, wiping his face and making sure he's comfortable in bed—It felt far too domestic to be friendly.

Familial doesn't sound like the right word either. There’s nothing familial about the butterflies in his stomach when you had kissed his forehead good night that day as a joke when Jimin had called you or when you had woken him up the next day.

Oh how beautiful you were that morning.

He knew at that moment that the goddess of beauty had favorites when she made your skin glow softly under the radiance of the rising morning sun like a halo and had your messy bed hair look frustratingly good on you. You were borrowing their clothes that day since you had already got your items shipped with the other staff, Taehyung’s white striped polo hung off on you like a dress and Jimin’s red basketball shorts gobbled up your form yet even with the fabrics dwarfing and hiding the curves of your body, he still thinks you’re the cutest sight he has ever had the pleasure of seeing.

You were especially cute in their clothes though.

In his feverish haze, all he could think about was how pleasant it’d be if you were to wake him up every morning like an angel welcoming him to heaven. What he’d give to the world to have you be the first thing he’d see in the morning.

Then you spoke and greeted him in that roughened sweet voice and Hoseok was gone.

Realization immediately had him freezing, tensing up as you let yourself fall across his blanket covered feet to groan about how sleepy you still are after putting down his medicine and breakfast on the bedside table. He hadn’t been able to reply, busy with tampering the racing heartbeat echoing in his ears.

Looking back a year later, him falling in love with you wasn’t as odd as he thinks it is, uncommon but still cliche.

Jiwoo taking the space next to him made him jump, breaking off his line of thought.

“Seriously, just get it over with. The faster you see the result, the faster you can decide whether to move on or not.”

It was the most logical step to take but it felt…wrong somehow.

He couldn’t imagine a day where he’d look at you and never feel the tickles of butterflies filling his stomach or the warmth your fingers would leave behind after carding through his hair or tilting his chin up to have a better look on his makeup, it felt like an offense to the fates.

Although loving you has its downsides, with your obliviousness to their feelings whether intentional or unintentional often makes him want to pull his hair out, he’d never regret feeling the joy of admiring someone when he’s with you. Hoseok has never felt more motivated to produce music with lyrics far too romantic to come from someone who has never had a lover since pre-debut. Not that you’d see that of course.

He couldn’t remember how many times he found himself wanting to grab you by the shoulders to shake you whenever you teased him about his creations, and hope it would be enough to let you know that all those cheesy lyrics he had uncharacteristically puked out was all because of you.

“Don’t you go souring your face like that, you know that I’m right.”

“And just because you sound right, doesn’t mean I’m gonna listen to you.”

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer @x-uno @diamonddia-mond @eggsysstuff @dearmyfavoritepeople-bts @sld88 @katsukis1wife

Jiwoo rolled her eyes and turned to her kitchen, probably to take a pan and hit him upside the head with it or to save herself from seeing the pathetic image of her brother being a fool for love.

He knew not to hope, he repeated those words to himself but at the same time, he could sense the small, miniscule bead of it hidden within his heart, pushed down to the bottom of the barrel and awaiting its eventual death once he set his eyes on the negative results on his test.

In all of the times he got scared, Jung Hoseok has never been so terrified at the thought of being left out of your nexus. It would be the highest form of torture, a cruelest fate the heavens have dealt.

#bts x reader #bts x fem!reader #bts x reader poly #bts x y/n #bts x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #jung hoseok x reader #park jimin x reader #kim taehyung x reader #jeon jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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infoglitch · 2 months ago

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Goodbye

"when one joy, one love, one source of happiness ends, a new one begins."

(a formal apology to any nuts n dolts fans who did not want to see a 3-pair of their favorite ship and Jaune.)

@spahhzy, @epic-arc. This war has been on pause for a long while. And I hope you've got your rest, because it's season two now. And I'm the god damn BBEG.

October 31st. modern day.

Ruby: Jaune, it's been five years.

Jaune: I know, I just.. I need to do this Ruby.

Ruby released a sigh from her side of the scroll call.

Ruby: alright. Just don't be late for my birthday Vomit boy.

Jaune: wouldn't miss it for the world Crater face.

Jaune hung up as he got in his car. He inserted the keys with the engine roaring to life.

~~~~

Seven years ago. Beacon.

Penny: friend Ruby, may I inquire who this friend is?

Ruby: ah sure, Penny this Jaune. Aka vomit boy

Jaune: t-that was one time!

Penny: understood friend Ruby. Salutations friend Jaune. I am Penny Pollendina. It is a pleasure to meet one of Ruby's friends!

Penny stuck out her hand. Jaune looked at it before grasping.

Jaune: it's nice to meet you too uh.. friend Penny? Nice to see Ruby isn't just stuck with my team and hers- OW!

jaune yelped as penny grabbed his hands with an almost BONE CRUSHING strength as she began to shake his hand. When she let go jaune yanked back his hand and began blowing on it.

Jaune: ah, ah, AH, ah-ha that's a lot of strength for young lady.

Penny: "a lot of strength for a young lady" is that a problem friend Ruby?

Ruby: no of course not.

Jaune: I just meant for your p-physique you got a lot of strength... Then again I was surprised too when I saw Ruby carrying her weapon.. until I saw she had a good bit of muscle. Your clothes are really good at hiding how strong you are you know that Ruby?

Ruby: well what can I say? I like surprising my enemies.. and sometimes my friends.

Jaune: well it works!

Penny: it is extremely beneficial. when an enemy underestimates you they tend to not take you seriously which can be very dangerous if they find out their opponent is far more strong than they thought

Ruby: why thank you Penny.

Penny: anytime friend Ruby.

~~~~

Five years ago. Atlas.

Jaune found himself awake one night as he heard a knocking at his door. He yawned as he got up.he walked towards his door and opened it to see Penny standing in front of him. Her face red.

Penny: friend Jaune.. I require advice on friend Ruby.

Jaune raised an eyebrow before moving aside and motioning her inside.

After a few seconds.

Jaune: so.. you're asking me advice on Ruby and how to ask her out? Why?

Penny: friend Weiss and the rest of team Rwby were already busy. Specialist Schnee was in a meeting so.. I figured I'd go to you friend Jaune. You've known friend Ruby longer than I have.. not to mention certain feelings you've had about friend Ruby.

Jaune blushed deeply as he looked at Penny.

Jaune: who told you I wanted to date Ruby?

Penny: you did friend Jaune. Just now.

Jaunes blush intensified as he face palmed.

Jaune: w-well.. from my experience with Ruby shes pretty dense. If you want to be with her I'd say be direct.

Penny: ah, that makes sense.. now if I may inquire friend Jaune. Why have you not taken your own advice?

Jaune: well.. it's complicated

Penny: it doesn't seem complex to me, you like friend Ruby romantically yet you have chosen not to pursue those feelings.

Jaune: well yeah but, think about it, I've known Ruby since Beacon, we hung out, we traveled together after the fall, we fought side by side, and I've seen a part of that has almost died before you returned. Seeing her happy when she's with you.. I can't just step in and tell her, that's just a piece of shit behavior.. plus, lets be honest I never had a chance to begin with.

Penny: ah, so what you are saying is you are defeated, friend Jaune.

Jaune: defeated?

Penny: you have convinced yourself that there is no conceivable possibility of you and friend Ruby becoming a pair. You have in a sense defeated your hopes.

Jaune:.. that, that definitely makes sense. But Even if I did try she'd say no.

Penny: even if friend Ruby did, what matters is that you tried, friend Jaune. And it is not as if it would ruin anything between you. You two are friends, nothing can shatter that.

Jaune: huh.. you sure about that?

Penny: affirmative. I do not need to run a diagnostic. For I am certain.

Jaune: huh.. thanks Penny.

Penny: anytime friend Jaune. And thank you for your advice. I am glad we could have this talk.

Jaune: same here Penny, same here.

~~~~

Ruby was pacing back and forth as penny watched.

Penny: Ruby I guarantee you this will go well.

Ruby: how are we sure, I mean me and you are dating and jaunes 100% ok with that, what if he's already made peace with that and moved on. What if-

Penny stood up and grasped Ruby's hand.

Penny: Ruby, you know friend Jaune, we both know Jaune. There is nothing you could say or do that would ruin what you and him have. If he has come to terms then he is still your friend. Nothing will change that.

Ruby: Right.. right. Thank you Pen.

Penny simply smiled at her before kissing her forehead. Causing Ruby to blush a little.

The door soon opened as jaune stepped in, he nervously waved at the two.

Jaune: sorry I'm late. Nora needed help with something.. what did you wanna talk about?

Ruby: well uh.. it's.. you might want to sit down for this jaune.

Jaune simply nodded as he sat down. With Penny and Ruby taking a seat beside each other.

~~~~

Jaune stopped his car once he arrived. He got out and looked at the massive cemetery. Made for those who passed during the silent war. Jaune began walking past each of them. Seeing the names of those who fell.

Arslan Altan.

Mercury Black.

Ghira Belladonna.

Raven Branwen.

Qrow Branwen

Maria Calavera

Athena Nikos.

Oscar Pine.

Pietro Pollendina.

Whitley Schnee.

Emerald Sustrai.

Winter Schnee.

Neptune Vasilias.

Taiyang Xiao long.

Many more names, some jaune recognized and some he didn't. But he stopped one he saw one in specific.

Penny Pollendina.

Jaune knelt down and looked at it.

Jaune: heya pen. How uh, how you been? Ruby is doing alright, she and Yang finally got to grieve together. You should have seen us all, we were letting out the water works.. especially Ruby. I'm amazed I cried the least.. maybe I just got to because hey, I haven't lost anything.. I'm the only one who didn't lose anyone.. but you probably don't wanna hear that so I'll just get to the point.. we miss you Penny. Ruby misses you.. I miss you.. everyone does. You didn't deserve what happened to you, you didn't deserve to die like that, not when you were finally able to be human. Not when you finally had everything you wanted.. you didn't deserve any of what happened, you were just a girl.

Jaune takes a breath as he felt tears beginning to well.

Jaune: I love you Penny, Ruby loves you. We miss you and.. we wish you were here. Ruby may have grieved but.. but I can't, not when you died by my hands, not when your blood stains my blade, not when I'm the reason your gone.. I can never grieve.

Not when you're gone because of my incompetence

#rwby #jaune arc #ruby rose #rwby lancaster #penny polendina #rwby nuts n dolts #rwby arculus rift #arculus rose #rwby angst #the glitch cycle begins.

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slaymitchabernathy · 17 days ago

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A Christmas Miracle

My dearest Soarynn, I'm writing to you with the grandest news I could ever bestow upon you. All Capitol troops will be returning home for Christmas. We'll be permitted to stay for one week before returning to our base camp. I know you'll want as much time as possible to plan for my arrival, although I am confident in your abilities to arrange for proper accommodations to be made. We will arrive on Sunday and there is to be a dinner on Monday night to commemorate our fallen comrades. I do hope you're well darling, not a single day goes by without me thinking of you. I cherish the photographs and letters you send me with all my heart, and cannot wait to have you back in my arms again. I do not know when our train will be arriving, so please, check the train schedules frequently. You are a constant light in the darkness of the Districts my love and I am anxiously waiting for the day when we can be together without worry or fear. I will see you on Sunday, please take care of yourself, my darling girl. Love, Coriolanus

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn nervously eyes her reflection in the mirror.

Does she look okay? Is her hair too shiny? Will he think she looks pretty?

"You look beautiful Miss Soarynn," her maid gushes, setting the hairbrush down on the counter, "Mr. Snow will be head over heels when he sees you at the train station."

Soarynn blushes, she's always been complimented on her beauty but his opinion is the only one that truly matters. Still, she appreciates the kind words, goodness knows everyone could use a kind word or two in these dark times.

Two years ago, war broke out in the Districts again. Soarynn had thought it was impossible, especially after the last war ended with the Capitol on top and the Districts on the bottom. Her husband, Coriolanus Snow had assured her time and time again that another war was impossible.

For once he was wrong.

The war didn't make its way to the Capitol this time, no, it remained in the Districts, and in an effort to contain it, the Capitol began sending troops to the wilderness of the Districts. Coriolanus was drafted due to his family legacy, his own father had been a general in the first war during the Dark Days and he was more than willing to serve his country.

Soarynn was less willing to watch her husband board a train and possibly never come back. Even though he assured her that he was simply there along with the other troops to impose their presence, she still wasn't convinced. They had been newly married and trying to start a family, why couldn't he stay with her where it was safe?

Coriolanus of course, saw it as a great honor to serve Panem and promised to write to her once a week and if allowed, make phone calls. Soarynn thought it was ridiculous, they lived together and now they were getting excited over five-minute phone calls.

Still, for him to come home for an entire week after being gone for so long was a treat as great as any and she wouldn't be taking it for granted. She had filled their week with lots of winter activities leading up to Christmas. She had the maids clean the penthouse from top to bottom, wanting everything to be perfect for Coriolanus.

She went out and bought him some new clothes, and...some new lingerie for herself as well. They'd certainly be busy at night.

"I certainly can't wait to see him again," she murmurs, reaching for her compact, "one week isn't long enough."

Being left alone in the Capitol had been hard on Soarynn. She used to spend nearly every moment with Coriolanus and now, she was on her own. She had turned to extreme measures, turned to something that galas and tea parties could not fix.

She got a cat.

She knew Coriolanus wouldn't exactly be thrilled but she was desperate for constant companionship. She glances out into her bedroom where her cat, Petunia, is curled up on her husband's pillow, sound asleep. She hopes they'll get along.

Coriolanus was used to a house with just the two of them and Petunia is used to a house with just the two of them.

There might be a war within the Snow household this week.

But they'll barely be home with what she has planned for them. At least that's what she tells herself.

Soarynn inspects herself one last time, making sure there's not a single flaw in her appearance. She wore light makeup today since Coriolanus has always loved her freckles so much. Maria styled her hair perfectly, curling it and then pulling back some pieces to tie with a bow. Soarynn grabs one of her favorite perfume bottles, one that holds a vanilla scent, and liberally sprays it all over herself. She wants to engulf Coriolanus in her scent.

She rises from her vanity stool and makes her way into the closet, the closet that feels so empty without some of his clothes in it. He'll certainly be glad to return with some new ones and Soarynn will be glad to wear his old ones. She often sleeps in his shirts, clinging to the scent of roses and something masculine that she just can't get enough of.

"Red or blue?" She asks Maria, pulling out two dresses, nearly identical to each other. Maria inspects both of them, gently touching the fabric, "I think the red one Miss," she tells Soarynn who nods in agreement, Coriolanus has always liked red.

"Perfect, will you please go fetch my coat and gloves?" She asks, unzipping the dress. "Certainly Miss," Maria gives Soarynn a small curtsy before leaving to go get her things and Soarynn slides off her silk robe.

She only looks at her almost naked self in the mirror for a second, reminding herself how lucky she is to be standing in a closet full of clothes with a household staff at her beck and call. She could be in the streets, starving and cold but she's safe and warm.

The war didn't affect everyone in the Capitol like it did last time. She remembers the first war, the bombs, her parents both dying, how hungry people were. This war has been different.

Only the lower and middle classes have been truly affected by it. Food has become limited but not scarce, there are ration lines but only for those who absolutely need it and Soarynn isn't one of those people. By marrying a Snow, she solidified herself in the upper class, in the elite. Every once in a while there will be a shortage of strawberries or meat but it's always resolved rather quickly.

If anything, the war has been a great inconvenience for her, disrupting her normal plans. She still goes to tea with her friends, still goes on shopping sprees, still gets pedicures every other week. Coriolanus didn't leave her with nothing. He suffered from the first war too, losing both his parents and a good bit of his family fortune. He spent the next ten years building his name back up and now, he's one of the richest men in Panem.

With his investments, business ventures, and connections, he left Soarynn to live a comfortable life of luxury. And the Capitol pays him to be at war.

It's the best-case scenario for a thing like this but she still wishes he didn't have to leave in the first place.

Soarynn shakes those thoughts off and slips into the dress. It's a very flattering look on her with a boat neckline that shows off a bit of her collarbones. It's sleeveless but she'll have her coat and gloves and it fits her figure perfectly, stopping right below her knees to show off her white high heels. With her hair and makeup done perfectly as well, she makes for a picture of sophistication.

Maria returns with her coat and gloves and helps Soarynn into them. Maria has been a godsend to Soarynn who had been quite overwhelmed once Coriolanus left. She's younger than Soarynn but very mature, always helping Soarynn manage in taking care of such a large apartment. She'll occasionally accompany Soarynn to the market if she needs to buy something specific and is always a good source of advice.

Soarynn had hired Maria right before Coriolanus left and she's been a loyal servant ever since.

"We'll be back later tonight," Soarynn tells Maria while searching for the right purse, "he'll want bourbon or whiskey, maybe both. And please make sure that the bath has been properly cleaned as well. He'll have lots of laundry that'll need to be done before he leaves."

Maria nods along to all of her words, "Yes Miss Soarynn, everything will be ready for Mr. Snow's arrival."

Soarynn picks a black handbag, leather and beautifully crafted, a gift from Coriolanus a few years ago when they were engaged, "Perfect. I'll call if anything comes up."

Maria walks her to the front doors and Soarynn buttons her coat, taking in a deep breath, "Enjoy yourself Miss Soarynn," Maria kindly tells her, "you deserve to have this time with your husband."

Soarynn smiles, she's right, she ought to enjoy every minute with Coriolanus rather than stressing about everything being perfect. "Thank you, we'll see you tonight."

Soarynn makes her way into the hallway and waits for the elevator, living in the penthouse is all fun and games until you're stuck waiting for the elevator. Coriolanus will probably remind her of a time when the elevator didn't work during the first war.

He's been doing a lot of that, reminding and remembering about what he went through the first time a war was brought to the Capitol's doorstep. Soarynn wonders if it's some sort of trauma response.

The elevator arrives with a ding and Soarynn steps into it, pressing the button to bring her to the lobby. She ends up being stopped on the eleventh floor where Mrs. Dolittle gets in, dragging her white, yappy dog with her. "Oh Mrs. Snow, don't you look lovely? Say hello to Mrs. Snow little Zeus," Mrs. Dolittle says to her dog Zeus who only barks at Soarynn.

"Thank you," Soarynn says to the older woman, "and hello Zeus, are you off for your afternoon walk?" Mrs. Dolittle hums and places a hand over her heart, "We're off to watch all of the troops come home, some of them are being brought in by trucks."

Soarynn's interest is piqued, "Trucks? Coriolanus is coming by train, I thought..." Her voice dies off and she begins to worry, has the schedule been changed? Is he not coming home today?

"Your husband will be coming by train because he's important dear," Mrs. Dolittle says before Soarynn can begin to spiral, "the rest of the troops are less important, or to put it plainly, less rich."

Oh.

Well, Soarynn can't argue with that.

"I see," is all she says before the doors open up to the lobby. "Enjoy your time with your husband dear," Mrs. Dolittle pats Soarynn's arm, "and if you have time, tell Coriolanus to pay us a visit so he can meet Zeus."

Soarynn knows for a fact that he won't have time or want to meet Zeuz but she smiles all the same and promises to do her best.

Soarynn walks out into the cold December air with a newfound energy inside of her. She's going to see her husband again, and for an entire week!

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn is giddy with excitement as she slides into the backseat of their car, "The train station please," she says, fishing her compact out of her handbag. She might as well check her reflection one more time, just in case something on her face changed from the elevator ride.

For their first wedding anniversary, Coriolanus gifted her a beautiful gold compact with a mirror and power inside. The power is her favorite scent, of course, vanilla. There's a beautiful rose engraved on the outside of the compact and even though they were apart on their anniversary, he still made the effort.

Soarynn applies a little more powder to her neck before glancing outside the car windows and she's astounded at how many people are milling around the train station.

"Looks like the whole Capitol's here," her driver remarks. Soarynn scans the crowd of eager faces, most of these people don't look like her, rich, but they might still be waiting for loved ones to arrive.

Her driver gets her all the way to the entrance of the station so she doesn't have to walk, "I'll wait right here Mrs. Snow," he assures her.

Soarynn nods and begins to make her way inside the train station. The glass pane ceilings let the natural light shine in and it's shaping up to be a beautiful day. The platform is even more crowded with hundreds of people pushing and shoving. Soarynn walks over to the schedule that's been posted on one of the ticket booths and scans one last time for her husband's train.

A Peacekeeper standing guard notices her, "Are you looking for a particular train Miss?" Soarynn shakes her head, offering him a polite smile, "I wouldn't want to trouble you, my husband is coming home today from District Five."

"Who's your husband?"

"Coriolanus Snow."

The Peacekeeper's eyes widen from hearing that name, that so very important name, "Allow me to escort you to the correct platform then Mrs. Snow."

Soarynn looks back over at all the people pushing and shoving, it does look very busy over there but she wouldn't want to impose. "I don't want to trouble you," she says sweetly, "I'm sure I can manage."

The Peacekeeper must not have a lot of faith in her, "I insist ma'am, please allow me to safely escort you." Soarynn jumps when she hears some shouting and looks back over to see that a fight has broken out on the platform, "Well if you insist," she quickly agrees.

The young man to his credit, gets Soarynn to the correct platform in one, safe piece, clearing a path for them the second people see his uniform. Platform Five is much quieter than the platform she just saw and Soarynn sighs, "This is much emptier," she notes.

The Peacekeeper chuckles, "Those other people don't know how to act, that's why they're all the way over there and you're all the way over here."

Before Soarynn can say anything else, the sharp whistle of an incoming train gains her attention. She looks around at the others waiting, mostly women like her, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their husbands. The train slowly pulls into the station, too slow in her opinion but she's excited all the same.

"How long has it been since you've seen him?"

"Two years," she answers, trying to look into the train windows, "two very long years."

It feels like a lifetime but she won't let that stop her from continuing to love him from afar. The train doors finally hiss open and several women rush forward in search of their loved ones. Soarynn being more shy and timid, stays back, looking for a head of blonde hair. It seems that all the men are dressed in their uniforms, donning their hats and coats, making it harder for Soarynn to see Coriolanus.

She watches several tearful reunions and can't help but wish for her own. More men spill out, some are greeted, some are not. Soarynn has heard the whispers about divorces left and right due to men being deployed. She can't imagine separating from Coriolanus because he's serving his country.

One man with tan skin steps off the train and he's looking directly at Soarynn, making her feel very self-conscious. He looks into the train and says something, pointing at her.

Soarynn stands up straight, her heart is pounding and there he is.

Coriolanus Snow is stepping off the train.

Soarynn is a woman who prides herself on following the unspoken rules of etiquette. No screaming, no shouting, no running in public or arguing.

She throws all those rules out the window the second he lays eyes on her. She breaks into a huge smile and runs towards him, not caring how improper it is.

Coriolanus doesn't seem to care either as he grins, opening his arms up. Soarynn shrieks and throws her arms around his neck, burying her face in his chest, content to never let go of him again. Coriolanus wraps his strong arms around her and she can smell the roses, smell how manly he is, and how much she's missed him. Coriolanus groans and squeezes her tight, "There's my girl."

Soarynn might just cry.

She pulls away just enough to see his face, his handsome face. He looks the same as he left, prominent nose, beautiful blue eyes, full lips with a smile that still drives her crazy.

"I missed you," is the first thing she says.

He kisses her a second later, not wasting any time showing her how much he missed her as well. Soarynn sighs into the kiss, wrapping her arms around his neck even tighter to deepen the kiss. It feels so good, so good to have his lips on her again. She didn't realize how much she took this feeling for granted until he left.

Two years without a kiss good morning, goodbye or goodnight.

They're going to have to pry him away from her cold, dead hands when this week is up.

"Soarynn," he says against her lips, "I might have to take you with me when I go back because I can't go without this again." Soarynn laughs into the kiss, it looks like she's not the only one who's been lonely. When they finally break away from the kiss, his eyes meet hers and they hold so much love, so much devotion, the need and want to keep her safe no matter what.

"Look at you," he says softly, resting a gloved hand on her cheek, "still so beautiful and radiant. You look gorgeous darling, absolutely gorgeous, I pity the men who didn't get to come home to you today."

Soarynn giggles and rests her head on his chest, wanting to be as close to him as possible. She lets go of his neck and wraps her arms around his torso, he feels so strong under all these layers, "I missed you so much Coryo," she tells him, "thought about you every single day you were gone."

She feels him place a kiss on the top of her head, another thing she's missed, how affectionate he is with her. "You have me for an entire week," he tells her, his voice laced with authority and yet completely gentle and patient with her. Soarynn hums, closing her eyes so she can remember this moment for the rest of her life.

She's grateful that he doesn't pull away, force her to move because she really doesn't want to. She wishes she could freeze time so they could stay like this forever.

"You weren't lying Snow," someone says, causing Soarynn to lift her head. It's the same man who was looking at her when he stepped off the train, "I told you she's beautiful," Coriolanus replies, kissing her temple. Soarynn feels herself blushing, she hadn't even thought about Coriolanus bragging to his comrades about her but it sounded exactly like something he'd do.

Coriolanus is a proud man, proud of his family, proud of his success, and proud to have secured a fitting match such as Soarynn. He's never shied away from boasting about her beauty, her charm, and femininity. Of course, he'd talk about her to his comrades, show off her pictures proudly.

"I'll see you tomorrow night," the man waves before walking down to the exit. Soarynn looks up at her husband, "Who was that?"

While Soarynn's letters to Coriolanus have included all the latest gossip and news, his have been more about how much he misses her and hopes for her safety at all times. Rarely has he mentioned anyone he's worked with.

"Lance Parkes," Coriolanus tells her, "we're in the same barrack."

Soarynn hums, she'll have to ask him about all his friends although she'll meet most of them tomorrow night. "How was the train ride?"

Coriolanus rubs her side, "It was fine, quite long but we were in first class so it was much more bearable."

Soarynn slips a hand under his coat, feeling the rest of his uniform, "You feel so strong, and you look so very smart in the uniform," she tells him, earning her a pleased grin. "Strong hmm?" He teases, making her giggle, "I should've known you'd ogle me the first chance you got."

Soarynn gasps, playfully shoving his chest, "Oh, please, you're the one who likes to ogle." He really is, Soarynn is more likely to silently admire her husband whereas he isn't afraid to make her put on a show for him.

Whenever they go shopping he has her come out and show him every outfit, praising her sense of fashion. And whenever she comes home with some new lingerie, well...she gives him a more private show.

"Well now that you've mentioned it, let me get a proper look at you," he says, loosening his grip on her, "give me a spin darling." Soarynn glances around the now barren platform, apparently, their reunion was longer than everyone else's so she doesn't feel too silly spinning around. Coriolanus lets out a low whistle and nods, looking her up and down, "You've got the type of beauty men go to war for," he tells her matter-of-factly.

Soarynn merely shakes her head, she wouldn't want to be the cause for any man to go to war, let alone her husband. "Where's your trunk?' She asks, changing the subject to something not about her. Coriolanus turns and points at the one trunk that's left, "I've come bearing gifts," he tells her, causing Soarynn's lips to curl up into a smile, "You don't say."

Coriolanus hums, reaching a hand out for her and she gladly takes it, "I've thought about you every single day," he continues, "thought about what you were doing, if you were feeling alright, if you needed anything." Soarynn's heart might just shatter into a million pieces, Coriolanus has been on her mind constantly but she always wondered if she was on his.

She squeezes his hand, smiling up at him, "Well we have a whole week together, so let's make the most of it."

꧁ ꧂

Soarynn has forgotten how attractive Coriolanus is.

For once, the roles are reversed and he is doing the shopping while she lounges on a sofa and sips champagne. He stands on a small pedestal, looking at his reflection in the store's mirrors that show him every angle.

He had written once or twice about outgrowing some of his clothing which confused Soarynn since he was too old to grow taller. But now, she gets it.

He's bigger. Stronger. More muscular.

His shirts don't fit the way they used to.

He looks very handsome in what the salesman selected for him, black pants, perfectly tailored, and a simple white button-up tucked into the pants. They're shopping for a new suit for him to wear to the dinner tomorrow night but finding a shirt to properly fit him has posed a challenge.

The salesman presses his lips into a thin line when he sees the buttons threatening to pop off, "Still too tight?"

Coriolanus offers him a polite smile, "Just a bit."

The salesman waves his hand, "An extra-large then, I'll have someone bring you the proper size."

Soarynn resists the urge to jump off the sofa and run into the changing room with her husband, it would be quite scandalous, and also bad manners.

"Where has he been all this time?" The salesman asks, raising an eyebrow, "I see hundreds of men every day in here but he must've been hiding under a rock." Soarynn chuckles, she doesn't mind when women or men flirt with her husband or talk about him in front of her, at the end of the day, she gets to go home with him.

"He's been deployed," she answers, setting her glass down on the small table, "he's back for a week and he's in desperate need of clothing that actually fits him."

"Well, I can see that, he's doubled in size from the looks of it, let me go look for a few more shirts."

Soarynn looks around the store while she waits, watching people come and go, everyone is doing last-minute shopping but she did hers weeks ago. Then she got that letter from Coriolanus and her entire world turned upside down. She had been so excited, she cried tears of joy, her husband was coming back to her.

For a week but still.

A few minutes later, Coriolanus walks out with a shirt that fits him properly and that cocky grin she's grown to love over the years, "What do you think darling?" He asks, holding out his arms while giving her a slow spin, "Do we have our base layer down?"

Soarynn does her best to remain appropriate when looking him up and down but it's very hard, especially with his big hands, and his big arms, and thighs and...she's getting distracted.

"I think we do," she answers with an encouraging smile. Coriolanus nods, "Perfect, let's move on to suit jackets then."

꧁ ꧂

Two hours later, Soarynn is strolling down the street with her husband and two large shopping bags.

"He was a good salesman," Coriolanus says, pulling her a little closer, "although I do believe he was flirting with me." Soarynn laughs, Coriolanus is as charming as they come but he's always had a hard time deciphering when the same gender flirts with him. Women he can pick up on in seconds, but men confuse him greatly.

Soarynn simply sees it as a compliment if both genders find you equally attractive.

"He was definitely flirting with you," she tells him, looking into a few shop windows, "you've got a new look and people are bound to notice."

Soarynn nearly trips when she sees the perfect little black dress in a boutique window. It's strapless and somewhat short but she knows that with the right heels, she can pull it off. One look at Coriolanus and she can tell that he's already picturing pulling it off of her.

"Why don't we go in here?" He suggests, his voice slightly hoarse. Soarynn wraps her hand around his arm and pulls them towards the door, "If you insist."

They're immediately greeted by an eager-looking saleswoman who has bright red hair and very long eyelashes, "Welcome, welcome! What brings you two in today?"

Coriolanus nods towards the mannequin wearing the black dress, "The black dress in the window would look stunning on my wife."

Soarynn doesn't even have time to blush because this saleswoman is grabbing her arm and pulling her towards the fitting rooms, "Of course, it would! You just go right back here dear and I'll bring you a few sizes."

Soarynn finds herself mindlessly nodding to whatever this woman says and walks into the first fitting room she sees. She doesn't even wait an entire minute before there's a knock on the door. She opens it to find the saleswoman holding three black dresses, "I brought a few sizes, although this one will probably fit you best."

Soarynn takes the hanger into her hands and nods, "Thank you very much." Part of her worries that this woman might try to come in and help her so she quickly shuts the door. Soarynn takes a deep breath before taking off her own clothes and neatly hanging them on the hooks in the fitting room. She steps into the dress and pulls it over her hips.

It would look great if she could get the zipper up.

"How's it going in there?"

Soarynn grits her teeth while fighting to pull the zipper all the way up, "Fine!" She calls back, using one hand to balance herself against the wall, "If you need any help just let me know!"

Soarynn almost falls over, "That won't be necessary!"

Three minutes later, she's sweaty and has the damn dress on.

But it does look very good on her.

Soarynn opens the door and peeks her head out, the coast is clear. She can hear the saleswoman yammering away outside, talking her husband's ear off. "...and that's when I knew gluten wasn't good for me and...oh! Oh, you look fabulous dear!"

Soarynn brushes her hair behind her ears, she isn't very fond of being the center of attention but neither Coriolanus nor the saleswomen can keep their eyes off of her as she steps in front of the mirror.

She can see Coriolanus watching her, a longing, lustful look in his eyes and she feels a boost of confidence, "You have the legs for that dress," the saleswoman tells her, "doesn't she Mr. Snow?"

Coriolanus grunts, fidgeting in his seat, "She certainly does."

Soarynn does a quick twirl and she smiles, "I'll take it." The saleswoman claps, delighted to do some business on such a busy day, "Wonderful! As soon as you take it off, I'll ring it up for you!"

Soarynn turns to go back to the fitting rooms but Coriolanus is quickly rising from his seat, "Let me help you with the zipper darling, she mentioned it might be tricky." Soarynn knows what he really wants and he could care less about the zipper, "Alright," she says sweetly.

They both walk back to her fitting room and he's on top of her the second she closes the door. Soarynn gasps when he pins her against the wall, his lips latch onto her neck, "Coryo," she gasps, "we're in a boutique!" Coriolanus scoffs and squeezes her waist, "I don't give a fuck darling, now turn around and bend over like the good girl you always are for me."

Soarynn would be lying if she said those words didn't do something to her. Something to her body that's gone two years without him. His touch, his lips, his hands, his cock.

She turns around.

Coriolanus bends her over and she braces her hands against the wall, "Coryo we have to be fast," she urgently whispers, not wanting to get caught. Mostly because she really wants this dress. Coriolanus chuckles and kisses right under her ear, "I'm just having a little fun darling."

He expertly unzips the dress and slides it off her body, letting it pool around her ankles and he palms her ass, groaning, "Fuck I missed you," he says, "missed this perfect little ass, your pretty little moans, how soft you are. You don't realize how bad it is out there for us darling, no women, surrounded by District scum, only our hands for a quick release."

Soarynn whimpers when he pulls her panties to the side, his fingers graze her clit and she bucks into his touch. She hasn't been faring but better in the sexual pleasure department but she has her ways, the shower head, her fingers, she's made it work.

But nothing is better than the real thing.

A knock on the door startles her, "Is everything alright in there dear?"

Coriolanus sinks two fingers into her cunt and Soarynn can feel her eyes rolling back. It's such a delicious burn after not having sex for so long and she might just cum right now, "Fine," she stammers, "it's, it's fine, I'm fine."

"Could you just toss the dress over the door then?"

Coriolanus reaches for the dress and Soarynn lifts her feet so he can grab it from the floor. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of her cunt and her knees buckle. Coriolanus catches her, holding her against the wall, "Be quiet for me hmm?" He says in her ear, his voice husky. Soarynn nods, biting her lip.

Coriolanus tosses the dress over the door and starts pumping faster and faster. Soarynn's toes are curling, her breaths are ragged. She's going to cum, very, very soon if he doesn't stop what he's doing. "Please," she mumbles, "please, please Coryo."

He peppers the back of her shoulder with kisses, so gentle in comparison to his fingers slamming in and out of her, "Still so good for me huh? Still remember your manners." Soarynn whines when his thumb presses against her clit, she cannot have an orgasm in a boutique fitting room.

Right?

Her walls start fluttering, her body starts shaking and the wire inside of her is about to snap, "Give it to me," he orders, "be my good girl and cum all over my fingers like the little slut you are for me Soarynn."

That's all it takes for her to fall apart. She lets out a moan but he quickly slaps his other hand over her mouth, muffling any noise she makes. Soarynn twitches as her orgasm rides out, it's so intense, so good after so long. She can feel the stickiness between her legs, she doesn't know how she's going to walk out of her but Coriolanus has already thought this through apparently.

He brandishes a handkerchief from his coat pocket a second later and makes quick work of cleaning her up to the best of his abilities. Her legs are still shaking, how she'll be able to look that saleswoman in the eye is beyond her. "You didn't, didn't get to..." Her voice dies off when she sees Coriolanus shaking his head, a sweet smile on his lips, "If I'm going to fuck you, then I'm going to do it properly," he tells her, "and in the comfort of my own home."

Soarynn lets him place a kiss on her forehead before he leaves to go pay for the dress. She puts her own clothes back on quickly so she doesn't raise any suspicion and joins Coriolanus a few minutes later at the counter near the front of the store.

Apparently, he's revealed that he's visiting for the week because the saleswoman has her hand over her heart, "...just the noblest thing a man could do for his country," she says, her eyes drifting over to Soarynn, "and leaving your wife behind? You're a national hero Mr. Snow."

Soarynn keeps herself from rolling her eyes, Coriolanus certainly has done a great service to his country, but being called a national hero is a bit of a stretch. Coriolanus, of course, loves it and grins, taking the pink bag off the counter, "You flatter me truly, thank you so much for your help today." Soarynn nods along to his words and wraps her hand around his arm, "Yes, thank you so much for your assistance."

"Of course! Stop by anytime."

They bid the saleswoman goodbye and step back out into the cold, Soarynn immediately curls into Coriolanus who doesn't despise the cold the way she does. Maybe it's because of his last name, but the cold has little to no effect on Coriolanus whereas Soarynn hates it with all her might.

"You should wear that dress to dinner tomorrow night," he says, leading them across the street. Soarynn gives him a skeptical look, "To a dinner honoring dead soldiers? I don't think so. Besides, I already have a dress picked out for tomorrow night." And she does, it's navy blue and makes her eyes pop. He'll love it because he loves everything she wears.

Coriolanus simply hums and holds her tighter, "Whatever you want darling."

Soarynn cherishes those words for she won't be hearing them in a few days. She ought to cherish every moment with Coriolanus while he's here, every single second is precious.

꧁ ꧂

Later that night, Soarynn finds herself in a most domestic position, curled up in her husband's arms, naked under their sheets. She used to dream about moments like this, hoping she'd wake up to find him next to her, only to wake up to an empty bed.

His breathing is slow and steady, instantly calming her after a long night of passionate sex. Coriolanus could barely keep his hands to himself for the rest of the day after their little stunt in the dressing room. They still had to go to several stores and then to dinner before they could come home.

Coriolanus was more than pleased to be warmly welcomed by his household staff and a clean apartment. He wasn't however, too pleased when he discovered Petunia lounging on his side of the bed, surprised to see a man in the room she thought of as her own.

There was a clear rivalry the moment they laid eyes on each other, especially when she saw how handsy he was being with Soarynn. She had hissed and swatted at him while Soarynn tried to calm her down and fix the rift between her beloved husband and cat.

She ended up removing Petunia from their bedroom so they could properly reunite and after several rounds of passionate sex, Soarynn was more than pleased with how the day turned out.

Coriolanus presses a hand on her stomach, splaying out his long fingers, "I was thinking," he mumbles in her ear, voice laced with sleep, "we should have a baby."

That gets her wide awake. Soarynn pushes her hips against his, causing him to groan since he has yet to pull out, "A baby?" She whispers, thinking about the possibility of finally starting a family with Coriolanus. They barely had any time after they got married, war broke out and he was shipped out.

It's not like they didn't want a family, the penthouse is huge with so many empty bedrooms. Her mind drifts down the hall to the nearest bedroom, vacant and begging to have a crib inside of it. He kisses right under her ear and hums, resting his chin on her shoulder, "Mhm, if it weren't for the war then I'm sure we'd have at least one child by now. And I've heard rumors Soarynn, they're starting to pull troops out little by little. I'll be home before you know it, and for good next time."

Soarynn's heart is beating so fast, the war is ending?

Part of her doesn't want to believe him, but Coriolanus isn't one to lie, he hates lying and anyone who does it. "Okay," she says, finding nothing wrong with his proposition. He's right, if Coriolanus wasn't deployed then they'd certainly already have a child right now. These past two years have set them back and she's not getting any younger.

He wraps his arms around her tighter and groans, "Good, because I'm convinced that I already fucked a baby into you."

They both laugh, knowing it doesn't exactly work that way but she's past caring about logistics right now.

Her husband is home and that's all that matters.

꧁ ꧂

Much to Soarynn's dismay, the next few days flew by in the blink of an eye.

She and Coriolanus spent every waking minute with each other, from the moment they woke up to the moment they went to bed, they were together. Their friends had teased them about it at dinner one night, how inseparable the pair was but Soarynn found nothing wrong with it.

She and Coriolanus belonged with each other. How could they not see it?

Even now as he opens a present from under the Christmas tree, it's so evident to Soarynn that he's the one for her. His strong masculine aura mixes perfectly with her gentle feminine one. While he's effortlessly charming, she's endlessly graceful, making them the perfect pair once again.

Coriolanus grins when he pulls out several pairs of white socks, the ones he's always been so fond of since Soarynn met him. He's always been one to value routine and tradition, never straying from what he trusts which includes socks. "You remembered my letter," he says with a laugh, setting them down on the floor next to him.

Soarynn nods, in one of his more recent letters, Coriolanus had mentioned how worn out his socks were becoming. Soarynn was no stranger to sending him letters but packages were a little bit trickier. They required an outrageous amount of postage to start, and there was never a guarantee that it would actually be delivered. She's sent a few over the past two years and according to Coriolanus, he's one of the only men who receives both packages and letters from home.

Soarynn truly can't imagine not writing letters to a loved one who's away at war. She writes him a letter nearly every day.

"I did," she agrees, "once I knew you were coming home, I ran out to buy you some new ones."

They both sit in comfortable silence while snow quietly falls outside of the living room windows. Soarynn watches the tiny snowflakes fall from the sky, doing her best to think about anything but what tomorrow will bring.

The train that will take him away from her again.

She can't help but begin to fear the worst, Coriolanus getting caught in the crossfire, a bomb going off and taking his limbs off, a trap being set just for him.

Which is highly unlikely from what he's told her. He's barely seen any real action, just a lot of angry people who he has to keep under control with a gun. When Soarynn asked if he ever had to use it on anyone, he'd gone quiet. This war still affected him despite him acting like it didn't. And Soarynn doesn't want him to go back to it.

She can feel the tears forming in her eyes, they've had such a lovely week filled with dinners, parties, and quality time together.

She doesn't want it to end.

"Darling," he says gently, "come here."

Coriolanus opens his arms out to her and Soarynn sniffles as she crawls over crinkled wrapping paper until she's crawling into his lap, burying her face in his neck. He immediately slips his hands under her nightgown and wraps his arms around her waist, holding her tight, "We'll be alright," he tells her softly, "I'll be back before you know it, and then we'll start our own little family. How does that sound?"

It sounds wonderful, like a dream come true to Soarynn who's been so lonely the past two years.

"Nice," is all she mumbles, not able to find it inside of her to act chipper when she's not. Coriolanus rubs his hand up and down her back, calming her with the smallest of touches, "I hope you know how much I miss you," he tells her, "how every night I stare up at the ceiling and wish you were there with me. You're all I have Soarynn, you've been the greatest gift."

Tears freely flow down her cheeks after hearing those endearing words. She doesn't know if this conversation is making his departure easier or worse. "I love you," she whispers, "with all my heart I love you."

She doesn't know how long they stay like that, curled up on the floor but it doesn't matter.

Nothing matters when she's with him.

꧁ ꧂

The morning of her husband's departure comes with heavy burdens for both of them.

Coriolanus, who must face what lies in the Districts once again, alone and without the comforts of home.

Soarynn, who must return to normal life with a smile on her face, and without the comforts of him.

They both fake it incredibly well to their credit, smiling at those they pass by as they walk towards his train. Just a week ago Soarynn was getting ready to come to the station, putting so much effort into her appearance. She barely even brushed her hair this morning since she planned on running right back home once he left to cry in bed.

Coriolanus hands off his trunk to a train attendant and Soarynn watches the man carry it onto the train, already stealing parts of Coriolanus away from her. She looks around the platform and is somewhat comforted by the sight of many other couples sharing tearful goodbyes.

At least they can all be miserable together is what she's concluded.

"Keep writing to me hmm?" He asks, nosing her cheek in an effort to make her laugh. Soarynn nods but can't find it in herself to laugh like she usually does when he's being so sweet, "You'll let me know if you hear anything else about deployment right?" She inquires for the tenth time today. She knows it must be getting annoying but she simply must know that he'll keep her updated with these things.

Coriolanus nods and rests his forehead against her own, "Yes darling, the second I know for sure I'm coming home, I'll let you know."

She rests her hands on his arms, feeling him one last time, "I'm going to miss you," she mumbles, her voice carries more of a tremor than she'd like but it's hard to act brave right now. Coriolanus leans down and kisses her, so sweetly and gently. Soarynn returns the kiss with her own gentleness for this will be the last kiss she's given for a long time.

"Be careful out there," she whispers, not pulling away from the kiss, "I can't go on without you Coryo."

He wraps his arm around her waist, pulling her into his safe hold, "I will," he promises, pecking her lips once more, "and you take care of yourself hmm? I want you to enjoy yourself while I'm gone darling, spend time with friends, spend my money, all those nice things hmm?" A small smile forms on her lips and Coriolanus chuckles, "There's my girl, always smiling for me."

She knows this is hard on him too, to leave her, to willingly leave her behind goes against everything Coriolanus believes in.

But they'll be together again soon, she's sure of it.

The sharp train whistle pulls the couple apart, announcing that the train will be departing soon.

"Make sure to call me," Soarynn reminds him, clinging onto him for dear life, "and to write to me. And let me know if you need me to send you anythi-"

She never finishes her sentence due to his lips crashing onto her again, effectively shutting her up. Soarynn responds the way she always does, loyally and lovingly, letting him take the lead. Coriolanus brings his hand to gently cup her face while they share one last kiss.

Another sharp whistle from the train jolts both of them and they finally break apart from their last kiss.

"I love you," he tells her, looking down at her with those devoted blue eyes of his. So piercing yet soft and gentle when he's with her and only her.

"I love you too," she says, "and I'm so proud of you."

Coriolanus smiles, hugging her one more time and kissing her temple before he lets her go. Soarynn remains frozen on the platform while her husband strides towards the train, stepping through the door right before the train starts pulling away.

Soarynn waves goodbye with the other wives, with only eyes for her husband who watches her from the door. It's only when he's out of sight that she allows herself to properly cry.

She ignores the sympathetic looks she's given from the other women and trudges back to the car, alone this time.

She cries the whole way home and in the elevator. Maria seems greatly concerned but Soarynn waves her off, she'll be fine in a few days, she remembers being like this the first time he left. Part of her wishes she didn't have to go through this again, that he never came home but she's so glad she got to see Coriolanus again.

Petunia is still lying in bed where they left her this morning, pleased to have her spot back. Soarynn gives her a gentle scratch behind the ears, "Just you and me again," she says sadly. She ought to wash the sheets considering they had sex every night but she refrains from doing so, she'll wash them when his scent is no longer detectable.

Soarynn lies in bed for hours feeling sorry for herself and missing her husband, only venturing into their bathroom when she needs to use it. She walks past the countertops and then her vanity when she notices a small white box sitting on her vanity counter, wrapped in a red bow.

Soarynn reluctantly picks it up and unties the ribbon, letting it all to the floor where Petunia immediately takes it to play with. But Soarynn pays her cat no mind as she opens up the box, softly gasping when she sees what Coriolanus has left for her.

A pregnancy test.

And a note.

Never too soon to find out. Love, Coriolanus

Soarynn chuckles, they both know it's highly unlikely for her to already be pregnant but she appreciates the gesture. She holds the testing device in her fingers, "Might as well try," she mumbles to herself, walking to the small room where their toilet is.

It only takes a few minutes but Soarynn finds herself doing anything but looking at the results. She folds some laundry, fluffs out their bedsheets. Finally, she walks back into the bathroom and turns over the test.

She gasps when she sees two red lines.

She's pregnant.

Newly pregnant, barely pregnant, but pregnant.

She can't believe it. Coriolanus isn't even halfway through his trip back to Five and yet he's left her with a most precious gift. Soarynn rests her hand on her stomach, imagining what it'll look like in a few months.

She's pregnant!

She's going to have a baby. She's going to be a mother, he's going to be a father.

Oh, Coriolanus.

She'll have to write to him at once to deliver the news. She's only a few days along but still.

It's a Christmas miracle.

꧁ ꧂

To my dearest Coriolanus, I'm writing this hours after your departure. I simply cannot wait a moment longer to tell you the wonderful news that I'm pregnant! I know we spoke of it when you first came home but after opening the gift you left me, I'm proud to say that you're going to be a father. I will keep things quiet until I can visit the doctor but I just had to tell you. I miss you with all my heart my love, I pray for your safety and your quick return. Know that not a day goes by where I do not think of you my heart for you are all that I am. I love & miss you already. Love, Soarynn

| tumblr oneshot/drabble |

| taglist: @strawberriicakes @wonderlandbound111 @villiansarehottest @kickmybark @thevoicesinmyprettylittlehead @melodyoflovee @erensrealgf |

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unironicallytes · 4 months ago

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Thoughts on the Wrath of Sithis*, Where It Comes From, and Why Mathieu Bellamont Did Not Receive One (Now Purified!**)

*For the purpose of this discussion, "Wrath" is used to refer specifically to the actual enemy specter/wraith encountered in ESO and Oblivion.

**ifykyk, a lot of this is copy-paste from an old post we no longer speak of nor circulate because it got toxic real quick and we never actually got to discuss the topic itself.

Imo, Sithis does not send the Wrath - it is instead conjured by the Black Hand themselves.

In this idea, the Hand disguises their conjured Wrath as Sithis himself enacting unholy retribution against a Tenet-Breaker - this lends credence to their authority in a way that also absolves them of responsibility for what happens to a member. Sithis works in mysterious ways, my brother! This could also explain the following:

Lucien straight up pardons the HoK for the Purification. That is apparently within his authority to do, yet breaking the Tenets is always said to be a surefire way to invoke the Wrath. You break Tenet Five like 8 whole times within a day, but Lucien has the power to just wave it off for you and carry on business-as-usual. There is something decidedly "mortal institution of laws" about that rather than sacred retribution.

Greywyn lasted for years in hiding without getting auto-Wrathed as punishment for leading an entire coup. A mortal assassin found him and doled out a punishment, not a Wrath of Sithis. This could be because the Hand was unaware he still lived, whereas if the Wrath was Sithis-sent, that dude would've been deleted pretty quick.

No one in the Skyrim DBh is ever sent a Wrath for breaking Tenet One, perhaps because there is no Hand at this time. Cicero is the only one who attempts to punish Astrid for what I presume was breaking a Tenet (large presumption, as we are never outright told). You could argue Astrid got her karmic comeuppance, and perhaps the Wrath was her crispy death, but that can also be explained by her simple hubris. But, like I said, for the purpose of this discussion, we're referring specifically to the physical Wrath here!

(Another new, additional thought) When you finally kill Mathieu at the end of the Oblivion DBh questline, there is no Wrath to come and claim him as in the case of the Black Dragon confrontation. No specter comes to aid you (save for Mother, who's only there to go "lol. lmao even.") This is also potentially because, as in Case #3, there's no longer a Hand to even conjure the Wrath - the only ones left are you and Arquen.

(New, additional thought) The ESO DBh and its traitor, the Black Dragon. The Wrath does appear later to take her ... but notably, it only appears once you have informed your Matron - and subsequently your Hand - who the traitor is and where she is hiding. You have now given the Listener the true identity of the traitor. When they send you and Green-Venom-Tongue to take her out, perhaps they quietly summon a Wrath too - not only as a back-up, but as reaffirmation of its existence to those who witness it.

Venom also remarked the following during your vision of the First Purification: "In the old stories, the Wrath of Sithis appeared to carry away the souls of traitors. If that's true, I wonder why purification was even necessary?"

So then, if it's the Black Hand sending the Wrath, and the Black Hand does not know Mathieu's identity, they cannot send him a Wrath throughout the entire questline. This would be extremely bothersome to them, because his continued activities undermine that faith-leverage they have. If a lower ranking member of the Family finds out that there's a traitor, but that traitor hasn't been punched in the face by a Wrath yet, then that lends itself to the same question we're asking here and the same questions Green-Venom-Tongue started asking. It lends itself to a member going "wait, so an all-knowing death god isn't enforcing these Tenets? so ... as long as no one in the organization finds out, I can break them." And I think Mathieu figured out that this was exactly the case.

Now then, encouragement of participation is always implied on tumblr dot com, but I'm saying it outright due to the history lol - please feel free to add on with your own thoughts! Even if you disagree and have a different idea! The only thing required for participation is respect.

#dear brother attached youll find my musings #dark brotherhood #tesblr #tes lore #tes v skyrim #tes iv: oblivion #eso #tes online #sithis #tes headcanons

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damagedintellect · 8 months ago

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Fyodor x reader x Nikolai [Rich kids AU]

💌 Days of our Bungo : Part 1 💌

Summary: All of your fathers made a pack that whenever they had kids they would marry each other. It sounded like a good idea at the time but when the Sigma family was the only family to have a girl, and everyone wanted a bloodborne heir, things seemed a little complicated. After many arguments it was decided they would wait to see which boy, she, would fall for. Everyone always ends up having a crush on their childhood friend right?

Notes: Guess who had another Bungo dream, it was me! This time around the dream sequence started in the middle and just kept going so ima just fill in the gaps and start from the top.

Tropes: Sigma is your twin, Fyodor x reader x Nikolai, Fyodor is endgame, royalty/rich kids, Childhood friends, Mutual pinning but reader thinks it's one-sided, Nikolai knows its unrequited but he still loves you & Fyodor, eventual 🍋

💌 Word count: 4,821 💌 You Are Here | Part 2

At the age of five you and your brother were inseparable. You were twins after all, it would have been weird if you weren't close to some degree. Sigma kept his hair long to match you even though your hair colors were mirrored. Naturally your parents gave you matching outfits although with some alterations between skirts and dresses. Sometimes you and Sigma would try to swap outfits to see if they could tell the difference but your hair colors always gave you away. That's the first memory you could vividly remember, your father trying to guess who was who.

It was placed in your memory box right before your first big fight with each other. Sigma stole one of your dresses claiming he looked better in it. You were furious for weeks. That's when your father knew it was the right time to call his colleagues. It was time for the two of you to make new friends. Your parents were always worried about your development since there were minor complications during your infant years. Being around other children your age would help round out your fighting and potentially help mend the sibling quarrel.

You were playing in the garden when the maids called you into the foyer. Your father had arranged for you to meet someone. Well more than just someone, your father had many friends but only two of them had children your age. Apparently you've met them before but you don't remember them at all. You and Sigma had extremely finicky memories for your age. Which is why today was so important for the both of you in that regard.

These friends of papa were special, they were his super best friends and hopefully today you would also make a super best friend too. Sigma would always be your best friend but he was your brother first and foremost. That was like cheating and papa didn't raise a cheater. As you straightened out your dress you hoped to make a good impression on the two boys in front of you.

Fyodor Dostoevsky and Nikolai Gogol stood before you as you curtsied. The two couldn't be any more different than you imagined. One was quiet and stoic while the other was loud and energetic. They seemed like a packaged deal just like you and Sigma. They had been friends for over a year now, bonding over music lessons and the fact that their manors were close to each other. As your fathers’ talked business, you were sent off to play and get to know the boys. Their fathers’ looked excited over your very meeting but you weren’t sure why and you wouldn't figure it out until years down the line.

After introductions you all decided to choose an activity and start getting to know each other. Fyodor decided on chess. It wasn’t like you hadn’t played before but you had only ever played against Sigma before. Nikolai snickered and whispered that you should have Sigma go first. You offered the other boy a quizzical look and stepped aside as he winked at you. Sitting next to Nikolai you watched as Sigma tried to best Fyodor. Nikolai was commentating the game, making Sigma loose focus not that it would have helped much. Neither you nor Nikolai wanted to play after watching Sigma get destroyed like that. Fyodor didn’t even bat an eye almost like he could predict what piece Sigma was going to move next. It was incredible.

Nikolai had seen the piano when he walked in and motioned for everyone to gather around. He played the beginnings of a song you were unfamiliar with. He was still working on getting all the notes right, his timing might need some work but it wasn’t bad for how many lessons he's had. He still managed to play something without sheet music no less. Apparently Fyodor played the cello and that's how they met at the academy. Sigma was going to start violin soon but you wanted to learn ballet. Ever since you saw the Nutcracker during Christmas it was all you could think about. Nikolai just enrolled in ballet recently because his family needed something for him to exhaust all his uncontrollable energy. It was kind of a relief that you wouldn't be alone despite only just getting to know the lad. At least Nikolai was easy to converse with. Fyodor was kind but a little intimidating.

When it got to your turn you dragged everyone out to the garden. Something you have always wanted to do with other kids your age was to play hide and seek. Normally some of the maids and butlers would indulge you every once in a while but there were only so many places they could hide. This would be fun. You decided to be “it”, choosing to make the gazebo your counting spot. You heard the pitter patter of feet run from you as you counted down. Although when you finally reached zero you immediately found Fyodor standing behind the bush at the base of the stairs. For someone who was exceedingly good with strategy games it was odd he was the first one out.

“Found you!”

You laughed and grabbed his hand pulling him along to find the others. He didn’t protest but he did look slightly uncomfortable being dragged along. It didn't take you long to find Sigma, he likes to hide in the same spot every time. It’s why you were ecstatic to finally play with other children. Now all you had to do was find Nikolai. Which took longer than you would like to admit. The entire time you were walking around looking for him you realized you never once tried to let Fyodor's hand go. Fyodor gave your hand a gentle squeeze as he pointed up in the tree near the fountain.

Sure enough Nikolai waved from his spot as he stood up striking a victory pose. He nearly fell down while he was making his descent, accidentally kicking off one of his shoes in the process. Luckily it barely missed the edge of the fountain. With Nikolai being the winner he was now the seeker. As soon as he started counting you made a break for it but stopped when you saw Fyodor just standing there. It seemed like Fyodor didn't quite get the point of hide and seek. That or he couldn't think of a good place to hide which was fair. This was the first time he's ever been to your estate, knowing where was an appropriate place for him to seek refuge was probably more or less his dilemma. Some might find it rude to rummage through areas of someone else's manor unattended. You ran back to him and once again dragged him away. If that was the case then you would help him out.

You saw some of the maids making preparations for afternoon tea and in a spark of genius you crawled under the thick tablecloth hoping no one would think to look there. You and Fyodor sat for a long time. Definitely longer than it took for you to find Nikolai. With the excitement of the day you had gotten pretty tired from running around. You ended up slumping on Fyodor's shoulder being comfortable enough to fall asleep in the other’s presence. While Fyodor contemplated what to do in this situation he overheard some of your waitstaff talking about you both.

“Have you seen the way young master Nikolai looks at our young lady?”

“I wish someone would stare at me like that. Although did you notice the young lady holding young master Fyodor's hand? She must have taken a liking to him.”

“That's adorable. I wonder if she will be betrothed to young master Fyodor instead?”

“I heard that they plan on waiting until she's eighteen to decide who she'll be promised too. They're all still so young, nowadays it's customary to wait to make the announcement.”

Fyodor looked back at your sleeping face. You were going to marry him someday? That surely puts things into perspective. He rolled his eyes. At least now he understood why his father made such a fuss about being a gentleman before he left the manor. As if he'd conduct himself in any other fashion was laughable but given his only acquaintance is Nikolai, Fyodor can see his father’s reserve. He doesn't like the idea of his future marriage being arranged especially since he'd just met you but it was reassuring that in the end it seemed like you'd have a say about who you'd end up with. Fyodor didn’t understand why it was so important to his father but maybe he'd understand with time. Speaking of time Nikolai abruptly pulled the tablecloth off the table to reveal the two of you crouched underneath. He frowned. While Fyodor was originally indifferent about the game he couldn't help his disappointment upon being caught.

You were startled awake by the noise of tea cups clattering in place. All the maids had a heart attack for a moment before they saw the white haired boy perfectly displace the cloth from underneath the dishes. You clutched your head where it made contact with the underside of the table. Fyodor let out a soft laugh at your misfortune causing you to stare at him in awe as Sigma helped you stand. The genuine spark in his eyes left you blushing as Nikolai was boasting about his table trick. You all sat down for tea as your father's plan to become friends worked like a charm.

___

After that you all would get together at least once a week to play around before you started attending the academy. Sigma was taking violin lessons while you and Nikolai started taking ballet. You thought he was crazy for doing both piano lessons and dance at the same time but Fyodor had commented that if anyone could pull it off it would be Nikolai. The boy seemed to be able to teleport around the academy as is. Not to mention the fact that Nikolai seemed to know everyone. While Nikolai was a social butterfly his best friend was the exact opposite. Fyodor was, annoyingly, always practicing even outside of lessons. Nikolai seemed to be the only one capable of dragging him out of the practice rooms to meet up with the rest of you. Sometimes he would even fight you all and practice during lunch. It was sad because you very much enjoyed the Russian's company but you understand his preference for solitude.

Aside from that, ballet wasn’t exactly everything you'd hoped it would be. You wanted to learn how to dance on your toes like Clara did in the Nutcracker but apparently girls don't go on pointe until the age of seven. Although recently there had been talk that the school was in the process of changing the age due to safety concerns. Nikolai had thrown a fit that men should be allowed to go on pointe too but it wouldn’t matter because neither of you were technically prepared enough for pointe work anyways. That's all you would end up hearing day after day, technique. It was boring learning proper placement, posture and turnout. You wanted to skip steps and just dance but apparently it was extremely important to your training to practice at the barre. Which was lame, you liked centerwork way more than being at the barre.

Even after a few years you still liked working in the center better than being stuck at the barre. Although now the years of technique classes had really paid off. This past year had been more focused on prepointe and pas de deux compared to past years. You had partnered with Nikolai whenever you needed to partner up for anything. Nikolai would make a scene if he wasn't your partner to go across the floor or for stretching so you weren’t that surprised when he became your official pas de deux partner. The teachers must have been observing the two of you since you enrolled in the academy. When you were finally put on pointe Nikolai was extremely jealous until you let him put your shoes on. Something you technically weren't supposed to do. He nearly fell over going on relevé at the barre, claiming that they were actually torture devices. He was no longer envious of you for being on pointe.

A few more years had passed and you started noticing that you and Nikolai were the artistic director’s favorites. They must have seen something in you both. For the end of year showcase you would be performing the pas de deux from Cinderella. Which was going to be their summer production that you could audition for. How convenient that this had the potential to be your audition for the role. You both were ecstatic. Nikolai was obviously a shoe in for the prince but you had a lot of competition for Cinderella. It didn’t bother you much, you were just here to dance and do your best. Although you heard a lot of gossip in passing. Things like, “(Y/N) is only good because she gets to partner with Nikolai.”

“They’re only looking at (Y/N) because she dances with Nikolai, I dance better.”

“Her pointe work is so sloppy I bet you her father pays the school to get better parts.”

Nikolai has told you to tune them out but the feeling was hard to shake. Nikolai was a freaking prodigy at everything he did. So was Fyodor. Even Sigma to some degree but at least you get to see the behind the scenes of his genius. He works insanely hard to keep up with your friends. His anxiety sometimes rubs off on you too.

At the moment your class was let out early so you were bothering Sigma and Fyodor in one of the practice rooms. For their showcase they were both given Ravel’s "Pavane for a dead princess". Which was an interesting choice given that it was originally written to be a piano solo. It can be done as a duet with a piano and violin or cello but it was weird that they had been practicing it as a violin and cello piece. Both of them agreed it sounded better with the piano so Nikolai was playing the piano as they were taking turns practicing their parts. Again it baffled you that Nikolai knows this piece by heart. When the lad had time to practice this was beyond you. Sigma had been practicing this at home most nights but this was the first time you’ve heard it with the cello accompaniment.

You couldn’t help yourself; it seemed like your body was moving on its own. You were so entranced by Fyodor’s playing that you got up and danced. To you it was such a beautiful piece. Most people called it melancholic but it was beautiful. You weren’t paying attention and Nikolai was pretty sure he was the only one who noticed but Fyodor slipped up slightly. Nikolai glanced at his friend to see what happened when he noticed that the Russian's hands were on autopilot. Fyodor was watching you dance. Nikolai’s hands stopped as well, completely encapsulated by your movement. This had to be what true freedom looked like.

You didn't even realize when they had finished playing. You were too busy living in your own little world. Fyodor smiled as you continued to glide around the room. You made it look effortless. Both of them were breathless. You only stopped when Sigma cleared his throat.

“So is it my turn now?”

___

Sure enough when the auditions rolled around for Cinderella you and Nikolai were casted at the leads. It would be your first time dancing a principal role. The only problem was the animosity of your peers. It constantly felt as though someone was out to get you. It was a feeling that kept you looking over your shoulder with caution. There were more whispers lately and it only continued your bad feeling. Of course you had an understudy in the event you couldn't dance the part and you noticed how she would glare daggers at you while ogling Nikolai.

You had just finished rehearsal and were waiting for Nikolai to finish changing out when foreign arms grabbed you from behind and your world went dark.

Your limbs were heavy and everything was starting to slow down. The commotion at the door of the cheap motel didn’t even reach your ears. Everything was muffled compared to the steadiness of your breathing. That was until Fyodor and Nikolai burst through the door. What they were doing here was beyond you. Why not the police? This had you confused but if anyone could track and take down some random ransom kidnapper it would be them.

Ever since Fyodor took his first computer engineering and programming courses you had expected that he took to being quite the hacker but you never called him out on it. Aided with Nikolai’s weird obsession with carnival tricks like throwing knives, hatchets and the occasional lock picking, this seemed like a normal day. Maybe it was whatever the guy slipped you that made this seem like normal behavior. For all you knew, your brain could be trying to piece together logical connections for things that weren’t really happening just to preserve whatever mental stability you had left. In other words this could all be a dream that you wished was happening.

Fyodor knelt down in front of you as piercing violet eyes assessed your condition. You could get lost in his eyes, that is if he would let you. His lips were moving much too fast for you to keep up. None of the sound registered to you. It sounded like you were under water. Which is a shame because you really like the way Fyodor's voice sounded. You've also never seen him this expressive before. When he realized you were not listening he took off his uniform blazer and draped it around your nearly naked shoulders. The kidnapper had stripped you of your clothes leaving you in your underwear. You hadn’t even noticed that let alone that the two had taken off your restraints. Prior to them breaking in you can’t remember a thing, which was probably for the best. Nikolai was searching for your discarded clothes as Fyodor started explaining to you again, but slower in hopes he could snap you out of it.

“Sigma is outside dealing with our private police force. Nikolai’s father only let us come with them under the pretense we would not, personally, get involved but Nikolai threatened the chief to let us handle this.”

Nikolai came back with your skirt but when you just stared down at the article of clothing they both gave each other a look and helped you redress. It was only when they tried to remove Fyodor’s coat did you finally snap out of your stupor and throw yourself into Fyodor's arms. Your breath was ragged and you were shaking. It seemed like your body was just now catching up to speed. The grip you had on his shirt only tightened as he wrapped his arms around you. The feeling in your limbs were weird, it took so much effort to move them freely and when you did, they felt like they were moving on their own accord. Right now you were safe and that’s all that mattered. Fyodor always made you feel safe.

“T-t…”

The words couldn’t leave your mouth but then again you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t even realize you had started silently crying until Fyodor pulled away to wipe away your tears. By that time Sigma ran up to you making you fall back on the bed.

“I WAS WORRIED SICK! If Fyodor didn’t hack into “Eyes of God”, who knows what would have happened!”

Sigma was crying more than you were. You tried to smile but your face was too heavy to turn up the corners of your lips. “Do you know how hard it was to prevent Nikolai from killing anyone? The moment we found out you were taken, those two were completely different people!” Sigma shook you for emphasis “It was terrifying!”

You wanted to answer him so badly but your mouth only opened without making a sound. It only took a beat for Fyodor to express that you’ve probably been sedated. Once Sigma got your shirt and Fyodor’s jacket back on your person, Nikolai carried you out and held you while you were in the car. Being your pas de deux partner for a few years now meant he could carry your weight near effortlessly. You leaned your head into his chest. Your eyelids were feeling extra heavy as they slid shut. You didn't notice his grip on you tightening, pulling you closer to his chest. If you were paying more attention you might have even caught the light kiss he pressed to your forehead.

___

You never got the full story but you could assume that Fyodor was able to trace the kidnapper back to your understudy because she was never seen at the academy again. Despite this scare you didn't stop dancing per se but you tried other forms of performance. Singing and acting have always interested you. So when you entered the high-school division you decided to give the acting thing a try. Nikolai always followed you around like an eccentric puppy and it didn’t surprise you in the slightest when once again you both were casted as the leads for another show. What could you say being friends for years meant that the two of you had excellent chemistry together. Although this time there was one glaring oversight on your part.

Whenever you had any issues you couldn't sort out yourself you always sought out Fyodor for advice. You had inconspicuously invited the russian over for one of your “sleepovers” You used to have them all the time when you were children. The only thing that was remotely off was the lack of Nikolai’s presence. As the boys were about to retire for the night you finally mustered up the courage to speak.

“Actually um,” You reached for his sleeve “Do you think you could sleep in my room tonight?”

You couldn’t look him in the eyes. Both Sigma and Fyodor raised an eyebrow at you. When you were kids he slept in your room all the time and none of your parents ever said anything about it. Sigma shrugged, he trusts that Fyodor wouldn’t do anything. He would have said something if it was Nikolai since he’s constantly physically affectionate as a person but if anything Fyodor has stricter physical boundaries compared to you. He'll allow it, not that he was going to try and stop you.

You couldn’t believe you were doing this but it was necessary and who could blame you. If you didn’t Nikolai would tease you relentlessly in front of the rest of the cast and you wanted to avoid that as much as possible. You were already freaking out that you had to kiss Nikolai of all people. He’s always felt like a brother to you and ever since that incident during Cinderella you were traumatized at the potential for that to happen again. Sure you were older now but that thought would always be in the back of your mind. You were aware of his ever growing fanclub and while after that incident they stopped bullying you completely you never know.

The moment you got to your room you motioned for him to sit on your bed. You were fidgeting with the hem of your sleeves. Like always Fyodor seemed to read you like a book, sighing softly while giving you a reassuring smile.

“Are you really that worried about kissing Nikolai that you need to practice?” His expression didn’t waver although it sounded as if he was amused at the notion.

You groaned, hiding your face as you threw yourself on your pile of pillows. “Let it be known I hate when you do that!” You curled up into a ball peeking at the russian while hugging your safety pillow. You really didn't and Fyodor knows that, otherwise he would have stopped predicting your words a long time ago but it didn't make it any less embarrassing. He knows you a little too well.

“Yes, I’m worried about kissing Nikolai! I have to practically make out with him and I’ve never kissed anyone before.” Kicking your feet in frustration you sat up in a huff. “I don’t want my first kiss to be because I have to. I always thought my first kiss would be a special private moment. Something romantic you know? And now everyone’s going to watch me make out with Nikolai! I didn’t think I’d actually be Juliet. I thought I’d have more time before I'd, you know.”

Your face was hot and your heart was racing. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at Fyodor; he probably thought you were being ridiculous. Auditioning knowing that this was a possibility. It was your first time auditioning for a show that didn't have any proper dancing in it. You had just wanted the acting experience. You didn’t ask for this. Truly it was Nikolai’s fault for being too good at playing lovesick puppy with you.

“There is no problem with wanting something to be special, (Y/N).” Fyodor put his hand on your cheek and guided your eyes to meet his. “If it puts you more at ease, I would be giving you my first kiss as well.”

Your breath hitched at the contact. He'd be giving his first kiss to you. You didn't actually think about that, although you should have known that was the case. He’s never had an interest in such things but he was willing for your sake.

He was sitting so close to you. When did he move from the otherside of the bed? Your head was spinning and nothing even happened yet. Neither of you initiated the kiss and his expression grew uncertain. This was awkward but you’d be figuring it out together at least. To be honest you didn't think he would entertain such an idea. You assumed he would talk you through being less anxious about it or perhaps give you a kiss on the cheek since he’s never been fond of physical contact if he could help it. That goes to show you Fyodor was a good friend, putting his comfort aside for your sake.

You closed your eyes mustering up enough courage to lean forward, gently touching his lips to yours. A flutter ran through your stomach as every thought in your head melted away. It was only one kiss but this already left you breathless and you were expected to do this on stage with everyone watching you? You became lightheaded.

Fyodor pulled away first, resting his forehead on your shoulder. This is the most he's ever invaded your personal space. Even with your shoulders being covered his forehead felt warm to the touch which contrasted how cold he normally was. You moved to touch your lips with your hands. They still felt tingly; it almost didn't seem real.

Fyodor let out a shaky breath as he recited one of Nikolai’s lines. It almost didn't occur to you what he was doing until he sat upright with his eyes trained on your lips. He was caressing you just like Nikolai would in rehearsal. You should be surprised he knew exactly how Nikolai performed the scene but you were too busy trying to remember if you said the right line.

Fyodor crashed your lips together. Again you were caught by surprise that he was taking this so seriously. You hummed as you melted into the kiss. Moving your lips against Fyodor's was making you dizzy. You couldn't help sighing softly under your breath. You were too enthralled with your personal bliss you didn't realize when Fyodor moved you to lay on your back. You were currently lying down with Fyodor looming over your smaller figure. Your hands gripped the front of your dress as your heart hammered away in your chest. You felt Fyodor pulling back again. His expression was unreadable but his face was flush. You were both panting looking at each other through half lidded eyes. You had the urge to pull him in for more. You really wanted to be greedy. Thoughts that you know were inappropriate were invading your mind and it took all of your willpower to avoid doing something you would regret.

“Will that suffice?”

Fyodor spoke as smooth and unwavering as ever, sounding unbothered like he wasn't also out of breath. You on the other hand could barely form words. “I-I believe so.” You were embarrassed and wanted nothing more than to continue where you left off but it was a self-indulgent thought.

Fyodor curtly got up to turn the lights off and situated his side of the bed. As he turned away from you he said his goodnight. You were left mildly hot and indefinitely bothered beyond compare. How could he just kiss you with all the passion in the world and then go to sleep? Maybe Fyodor should have been the actor out of your group. You've never seen his eyes so vibrant before. You laid there lost in thought replaying that last kiss in your head. Fyodor was always there for you but you hate that no matter how close the two of you are you will never be more than friends. Over the years he's never had any interest in romance and If his actions after the kiss were any indication, he couldn't even look at you. Turning away from him you tried to ease the rejection but your head was still reeling from the kiss. You would never forget what love should feel like, even if Fyodor would not return the feeling.

Fyodor was eerily still, listening for your breathing to even out. He doesn't know what came over him, the moment his lips touched yours a fire was lit throughout his body. He prided himself with his immaculate self control and his body threw it all down the drain. If he didn't stop when he did he would have just embarrassed himself in front of you. He felt the blood rush down his abdomen. That's why he was adamant about turning the lights off as fast as possible. Fyodor tried to will it away but the memory of how you looked up at him blissfully dazed was driving him mad. He agreed to help for purely selfish reasons and he almost feels bad about manipulating you for that second array of kisses, but it was worth it to best Nikolai. You chose Fyodor to be your first kiss and he had nothing to do with it. There was no bread crumbing, no manipulation tactics he had to employ, it was simply your love for him that drove your decision to give him your first kiss.

He's watched you and Nikolai only grow closer as the years passed and Fyodor feels like he's been left behind. Even though you've expressed that your feelings for Nikolai is that of brotherly love, he can't help but feel it's something more when he sees the two of you together. It would truly pain him to lose your affection to Nikolai but in the end if that's what you desired he's prepared to step aside for your happiness. At least that's what he tells himself, it's far too easy for him to be selfish for what he wants. In fact he's known of your love for him for years now but he doesn't press the matter because such infatuation would only distract from your studies and the last thing he needs is to have both of your father’s disapproval.

The next day you tried your best to mask your weary expression as Nikolai leaned in to kiss you. You were expecting to be met with the same overwhelming warmth that you had with Fyodor the night prior but your mind was clear of the fog. As you pulled away you waited for Nikolai’s next line but it never came. You gave him a quizzical look but he was still staring at you in awe. He gave it a beat before he broke character.

“Ah, sorry that was my first kiss.” He covered his face and turned away from you.

Your director was laughing as the rest of your cast exploded in conversation. Had it been anyone else surely they would have gotten scolded for derailing the rehearsal but Nikolai was always the utmost professional performer; this was the first time you think he’s ever slipped up and broke character for any reason. His face was a light shade of pink as he avoided your gaze. It was cute to think he might have been in the same boat as you were last night. You wonder if he also tried to practice the kiss in some way. The thought of him practicing on a stuffed animal or even his own hand made you giggle to yourself.

You were so enthralled with the image you created in your head that you didn’t see the soft longing expression on Nikolai’s features as he turned back to meet your gaze. He wondered if he was your first kiss as well but given that your reaction was rather temperate Nikolai fears he might have been too late.

His smile was bittersweet as he thought to himself. “Fyodor, you sly rat.”

___

Part 2, Part 3

#bsd imagines #bsd fanfic #bsd x reader #nikolai imagines #fyodor imagines #fyodor x reader #fyodor x reader x nikolai #nikolai x reader #xreader #x reader #my bsd brainrot is showing #based on a dream i had #this will have 3 parts

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thedrarrylibrarian · 1 year ago

Note

hi!! I first off wanted to say THANK YOUU!! I came across your page abt two months ago when I needed new fics and I use your recs so often!! I was wondering, what are a few of your all-time favorite fics, if you had to choose? (:

Oh my goodness! I'm so glad to hear that you've been enjoying my blog! I can't believe I've been running this blog for 3 years today!

What a fun ask (I've been sitting on this so I could use it for today!) I really struggled to pick fics - or more accurately, not to pick ALL the fics! I picked fics that are my go to rereads - whether it's because they make me laugh or because they pull at my heartstrings, or because they're so hot, these are some of my personal favorites.

Cupboard Love by @shealwaysreads (4,184 words, rated G)

Cupboard Love: the psychoanalytic theory of an infant’s primary drive being food which, when satisfied, leads naturally to a secondary drive for attachment.

Harry’s life, and love, in food.

Still Warm, Still Warm by @tsauergrass (4,899 words, rated G)

Harry is up to something. Why else would he keep giving Draco presents?

Five Little Things by @bixgirl1 (6,197 words, rated T)

Harry was supposed to be good at this.

Headway by orphan_account (7,482 words, rated M)

“It’s called courting,” Draco spat suddenly, livid and red in the face. “I wouldn’t expect you to understand a single thing about it, actually Potter, since it’s formal, and there are rules, and neither of those are concepts you’d know anything about even if they took on human form and kicked you right in the fucking dick.”

The Exhale by spqr (7,506 words, rated T)

Hermione makes a soft, concerned sound. "Harry, look at this." She shows him an article with a photo, but the photo's not moving; it must be a Muggle newspaper. "NASA have just landed a rover on Mars. It's called Curiosity, and look, this is so--I don't know if it's sweet or sad, but--it's all alone out there, and they programmed it to sing itself Happy Birthday."

Nothing is wrong, but Harry starts crying.

Silverpoint by @tackytigerfic (8,836 words, rated E)

It seems fairly simple to you, but you know that you don't really understand love - how could you, after all? You've never known how to talk about it, but you've never had to before. Everyone you ended up loving has always understood. You've been able to show them, by fighting for them, dying for them.

That seems a bit much- after all, Malfoy just wants tea in bed and his cock in your mouth (not usually at the same time).

It's ok to love him, you reason with yourself - he doesn't have to know. No one ever has to know.

Quick as a Flash of Lightning, Unhurried as Eternity by @onbeinganangel and @babooshkart (10,000 words, rated E)

Can you fall in love with someone by simply watching them fiercely love another version of yourself?

The Way These Days Seem to Go (And Go) by @firethesound (15,230 words, rated T)

Stress baking isn’t a hobby Harry ever thought he’d pick up, but he’s surprised to find how much it helps him to get through those long months post-war. It keeps his hands busy, it keeps his mind occupied, and when Draco Malfoy steadily pushes his way back into Harry's life, it helps with that too.

Let him lead me to the banquet by @harryromper (16,066 words, rated T)

The worst part is Harry’s got no idea why Malfoy keeps sending him invites. He’s never replied to a single one. And if the whole dinner is as exclusive and sought-after as the Prophet keeps breathlessly reporting, then presumably the only reason Malfoy wants him there is in his capacity as the Chosen One. So, really, he can fuck right off. Harry doesn’t care about Draco Malfoy’s redemption tour. And he’s certainly not going to help him with it.

Draco Malfoy Absolutely Does Not Need to Be Loved by Harry Bloody Potter by @nv-md (18,153 words, rated E)

It’s not easy to be bonded to your childhood rival, turned fuckbuddy, who you also have extremely uncomfortable but repressed feelings for—just ask Draco Malfoy.

When You Kiss Me (What A Lovely Way to Burn) by @femmequixotic (22,167 words, rated E)

A drag fairytale of New York in which Draco wears red lipstick and Potter can’t get enough.

In the dark, the light by phrynne (32,203 words, rated E)

‘Potter… It’s Malfoy. Do you still want this?’ It started like that. Malfoy’s breath on his ear, his voice low, hot against his skin. Harry shivered, though he could feel the heat from Malfoy’s body just behind him, too close, but not touching him. Even if he could. For the rest of the night, he could do whatever the hell he wanted with Harry.

Clouds That Veil the Midnight Moon by @drarrytrash (36,733 words, rated E)

According to Harry’s personal narrative regarding the incident, he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy for purely self-destructive reasons, or out of convenience, or by some unlucky accident. Looking at him, sprawled in the moonlight, Harry is devastated to recall that he’d hooked up with Draco Malfoy because he’s hot.

Draco is a secret werewolf and Harry is doing his best and they've got criminals to catch, darn it.

Boiling Point by @goldentruth813 (42,882 words, rated M)

After an Auror raid gone wrong, Draco ends up trapped in a dodgy safehouse with nothing but Harry Potter’s dubious company and a dwindling supply of food. With only each other and the walls surrounding them, they're forced to confront their past and their feelings which have long been threatening to boil over.

The Liars Department by @dorthyanndrarry (103,395 words, rated T)

This is a story about Harry meeting up with Draco Malfoy four years after the war. And a story about Harry, well, not hating his job per say, but it's not like he has much to compare it to and it seemed fine. His whole life seemed fine. Then Malfoy came along with and his flashy suits and fast car making everything seem dull in comparison, and Harry... Harry couldn't just leave well enough alone.

Grounds for Divorce by @tepre (122,217 words, rated E)

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

What We Pretend We Can't See by @gyzym (131,086 words, rated M)

Seven years out from the war, Harry learns the hard truth of old history: it’s never quite as far behind you as you thought.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Love forever,

The Drarry Librarian

#my favorites #my favorite fics #the drarry librarian's favorite fics #drarry #harry potter #draco malfoy #harry x draco #the drarry librarian #happy blog anniversary to me! 3 years!#blog anniversary

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illtakeyoutowonderland · 1 year ago

Text

I can see you

Modern!Aemond x Reader A/N: This will probably be a series

Summary: You meet the Targaryean brothers at one of your new jobs parties

It was the first big event at the new company you were working on you had assisted. A big End of The Year kind of party, even though, for you, it had been no more than five months, but it was already December. You had moved from your own city to this new one, leaving it all behind, not looking back. It was rough, but necessary for you. You had applied to various jobs looking for the perfect opportunity, and excuse, to leave and it all had worked out. You were happy with your new job and your little new apartment. Except for this moment when you were cursing for putting yourself into a pair of high heels that you were so not used to walk in, let alone stand up for a few long hours

"Stop it!" Kate whispered to your ear as you switch you weight from one foot to the other, groaning in pain. You were feeling extremely uncomfortable and your feet were killing you "Focus on the handsome men talking and you'll forget your pain" She said cheekily as she pointed to the stage. Of course this parties had speeches. You know, the ones where the high ranks and CEO´s of the company talk about hard work and how amazing it is to work with them. Those speeches.

"Who are they again?" You asked your friend. This time, not only your own bosses were on stage but another whole family stood on the spotlight. They didn't work in your company, apparently they were just guests? It was all so weird

"They are the Targaryen's" She explained. Apparently they were a whole family of lawers, very well known in the business. Complete strangers to you "The blonde man talking now is Viserys, the father. And that's Alicent, his wife. Then you have Aegon, Aemond and Helaena" She said pointing to the blonde trio that looked as if they were rather be in any other place in the world but there.

"What kind of names are those?" You snorted already forgetting them as your friend shrugged

"The kind I wouldn't mind to see in my marriage licence" She grinned and you both laughed, grateful that the people around you started clapping so no one noticed the two of you. She explained to you how they came for a very long line of wealthy family "Stupidly rich" Were her exact words "Even if they all stop working today they will still have aough money for them and their own grandchildren" She said regarding the sibling's trio

"And why are they here? This is an audit and tax company. Don't they have their own legal or whatever company?"

"Yes, we have our own lawyers" She said as people started to leave the room to go back to the party "But Viserys is, conveniently, an extremly close friend to our own beloved CEO, so they get invited to every party. That and it works for both companies, you know? The give each other enough publicity and audience while being in contact with important clients"

"So this is a Marketing Campaign" You said socoffing "I'm sure that's a very warm friendship"

"That's how the world works, I guess" Kate grabbed a glass of wine, offering you another one but you declined and excused yourself to go to the lady's room. That's what they were calling them apparently

You were heading to the bathrooms, too focused on your own little world, you didn't noticed the voices at first until you reached the bathroom door "You are a disgrace to the family" You stopped in your tracks, you knew that voice, you just heard it. But the joyfull tone it had a few minutes ago was more than gone now. The raw, scoffing laugh of someone else was the only response "Oh, so you think this is funny?!" The man said raising his voice and you walked towards the corner trying to see who was yelling, blaming your curiosity on the expensive champagne you just had, you found a very angry Viserys Targaryean yelling at one of his sons. His back was turned to you, luckily, so he didn't see you. But his son did. What was his name again? Argon? Ergon? Eragon? "You will never get anywhere in life" Viserys said and you look at the older man in shock with his words. You knew this was not of your business, you should've left the seconds you heard their voices but you couldn't move, as if you were the one being scolded. You looked over to the young man again and found him looking at you, expressionless face you thought for a second but his big eyes were on the verge of tears "You are a dissapointment and that's all you will ever be!" Viserys said and took a step back turning around to leave and you knew you had to leave too, before he saw you. You were quick on your steps as you entered the bathroom and heard Visery's steps fade away.

"What the fuck?" You whispered to yourself as you tried to process and decide if it was a good idea to check on his son or leave it be. You chose the second option "None of my bussiness" You said as you looked at yourself in the mirror after freshing you up and got out of the bathroom and looked for your friends

A couple of hours had passed, a few more glasses of champagne and wine, when you head towards the bathroom once amore time. Once outside again you welcomed the breeze of the night fresh air on your face as you looked to your left and saw a very lonley young Targaryean sitting on a bench on a dark corner, smoking. You weren't exactly drunk but your tipsy state obviously made you more brave as you sighed and accepted the fact that you couldn't just leave him alone without checking how he was

So you walked over there and sat next to him without a word. Half not knowing what to say and half realizing this was a weird thing to do for a stranger, you looked back to the party, focusing on the horizon. He looked at you for a few seconds in silence before he offered you a smoke "No, thank you" You said to him with a smile and the silence was back "I'm Y/N" You said after a few minutes

"Oh, I know" He said with a smirk on his face and you looked at him shocked "I saw you overhearing my conversation with my beloved father" He said in a slight mocking tone "Had to know who you were in case you decided to make his feelings go public. Damage control and stuff, you know? We are a very respectful and loving family after all" His tone was clearly sarcastic and you couldn't help but snort

"I noticed"

"You did..." He agreed but then continued "So, please, keep it to yourself? Apparently we have an image to maintain and I would love not to be publicly recongnized as the disapointment of the Targaryaen House. Not more than I already am" You didn't have to be a genius to recognize the sadness in his voice. He truly believed every word his father had said to him

"Oh, I'm sorry to dissapoint you" You said as you turned to him "But the gossip is already all over My Space profile, can't back down now" You faked grimance and he let out a hard, genuine laugh at the mention of the old platform "Do not laugh, I have a fanbase to maintain" You said laughing as he laughed harder at your joke

"I'm sure you do. Haven't laugh this hard in a while" He said holding his stomach. It wasn't that funny honestly, your joke. You just figured he needed the excuse to laugh "But seriously, please do not post it on Twitter or whatever..."

"Couldn't even if I wanted to" You said to him "I don't have a Twitter account" You said shrugging

"Who doesn't have a Twitter account?!" He exclaimed, surprised at your comment "Let me guess, you are a TikTok Girl?"

"I am clearly and Insta Girl!" You said feigning being hurt as you signal yourself with your hands and he hold up his as a sign of surrender saying sorry "I do have TikTok though, even though I never posted any videos on it" You both laugh and the silence took over one more time

"I'm Aegon" He said after a few minutes and you looked at him "You probably knew that already, just thought I should introduce myself, too" He almost whipered

"It's nice to meet you Aegon" You offered him a smile and he replied with one of his "And, honestly no. I'm new in town so I have absolutely no idea who more than half of the people here are" You said looking over to the party one more time "That includes you and your family I'm afraid"

"Huh... That's actually refreshing" He said more to himself than to you and then turned his whole body to you "Would you like to go somewhere else?"

"What... what do you mean?" You said surprised at the sudden change of subject

"I mean leave the party, we can grab my car and just go...?"

"Hey Aegon!" Someone called him and you both turned to see his brother looking very annoyed and walking to the pair of you "Come on, let's go"

"Dear brother! Don't be rude, I'm talking to my friend here" Aegon said pointing at you. Aemond looked at you from head to toe and rolled his eyes at his brother "Y/N this is Aemond, Aemond Y/N" He introduce the two of you with a big smile and you waved at Aemond not entirely sure how to react. He gave you a quick nod as he turned to Aegon again

"Come on. Hel and mom want to go home and I cannot deal with any other person or their dramas tonight" He said with a heavy sigh turning to leave "You can ask for her number and flirt with her any other day"

"Oh, no no. We are not flirting" You said and stood up too fast puting distance between you and Aegon "I wasn't flirting"

"I know" Ageon calmly reassured you and looked at his brother "Told you she's a friend"

"Yeah, right" Aemond said with a scoff but Aegon hold his gaze "You always have someone new, how am I supposed to know you are not trying to get in her pants? Or skirt" He said looking over to your dress and you suddenly felt very very naked

"Aemond!" Aegon exclaimed as he stood up and face his brother "That is enough"

"Ok... I'm gonna go..." You said as you noticed this was, again, a family thing

"Wait, Y/N" Aegon stopped you "I apologized for my brother" He said giving him a look but Aemond looked bored already "I wasn't trying anything with you, I swear"

"Listen, I just wanted to check on you after... you know" You didn't completed the sentence as you looked over at Aemond not sure if he was supposed to know, but that caght his attention as he turned to look at you "And you are fine, so I'm just gonna leave you two be"

"After what?" Aemond asked but neither of you responded "Aegon, after what? What happened?"

"Father gave me his usual uplifting speach a few hours ago" Aegon said shrugging "You know, the one where he explains in detail how I'm a disgrace to the family and a disappointment. She heard" He pointed at you and you avoided Aemond's gaze "Father is not being very careful on who notices his outbrusts, lately" Aegon finished as he lighted up another cigarette. He noticed the worry on his brother face "I already talk to her, she won't say a thing"

"I'll talk to him" Aemond said not looking at you, as you weren't even part of the conversation. Which made you question if you should intervine or not

"Don't" Aegon sternly said "We do not know how he would react, she could lose her job"

"Wait what...?"

"I don't care! He can't keep doing this..."

"Fuck you Aemond!" You said louder than expected as you walked up to him and both brothers turned to look at you "Fuck you, I do care. It is my job" You hold his gaze for a few seconds. Aemond was in shock you had insulted him while Aegon was smiling broadly "I already told Aegon I wasn't going to say anything. If you don't believe that sound like a you problem. But I will not have my job and career ruined because of a spoiled little boy" It was kind of funny to call him little boy considering he was way taller than you and you were wearing heels at the time

"You tell him, girl" Aegon cheered for you

"I am NOT a little boy" Aemond said closing even more the little space between you two, anger clearly on his face. And from this distance now you could see him better, how blue his eyes were... eye, his right eye was blue. You noticed the difference with the left one, not as bright and turning a little grey. You noticed his pouted lips and his sharp chin, and fuck was he hot. Saddly, he was an idiot you convinced yourself as you tried to hold his gaze again and noticing how his own eyes were scattering your face

"He is a Twitter Boy" Aegon said trying to lighten up the mood and breaking you both from the little bubble

"Of course he is" You said rolling your eyes earning a laugh from Aegon

"What's that supposed to mean?" Aemond said feeling insulted

"You know exactly what it means" You didn't even know what it meant but you weren't letting him have the last word. Aemond open his mouth to speak again but you ignored him as you turned to walk to Aegon "It was nice to meet you, Aegon" You offered him a smile which he returned and with that you were gone. You walked towards your friends trying to ignore the feeling of two pair of eyes looking at your back as you walk away

#hotd #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen #aemond x reader #modern targaryen #modern aemond #modern aemond x reader

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the-badger-mole · 1 year ago

Text

Why?

It was always fun when they got together, but this was a special occasion. In three days, Katara and Zuko would be married in a private ceremony attended by just close friends and family. In four days, they would have the lavish royal wedding to be attended by world leaders, nobility and whatever Fire Nation citizens would fit inside of Caldera. In five days, Katara would be crowned Fire Lady in a ceremony at least as lavish as the royal wedding. Tonight, though, it was just the six friends in Zuko's suite, reminiscing, catching up and drinking perhaps a bit too much.

It was well into the earliest hours of morning before everyone started drifting off to their rooms. Sokka and Suki, the proud parents of a six month old who was just beginning to sleep through the night, went first. Then Zuko, who was extremely reluctant to leave, but had business to take care of in order to make sure his honeymoon would be uninterrupted. Toph left soon after Zuko. She had fallen asleep on the rug in front of the fire, but when woken, she insisted she was just resting her eyes. Katara chuckled at her friend, but managed to convince her to rest her eyes in her own bed. The sun would be up shortly, so she was getting ready to go to turn in, too. Aang, though, lingered at the table they'd all been sitting at. He knew where his room was, so Katara thought nothing of letting him take his time getting there.

"Going to bed already?" Aang asked as Katara stood up.

"Yeah," she nodded, stretching her arms over her head. "I have a last minute meeting with the wedding planner before lunch, and then I was planning to spend the rest of the day with my dad and Gran Gran."

"I can't believe you're getting married," Aang said, shaking his head. "It doesn't feel real."

"Tell me about it," Katara laughed. "We've been planning this for a year, and it still feels like we didn't have enough time to plan."

"You think it's too soon?" Aang asked.

"Absolutely not!" Katara replied emphatically, a wide smile spreading over her face. "I was ready to marry Zuko three months into dating him. We only waited as long as we did because he wanted to make sure I'd be comfortable here." Aang was silent for a long moment, and Katara was starting to feel fatigue creeping up on her. She was about to say goodnight, when Aang spoke again.

"Are you sure about this?" He said it so quietly Katara wasn't sure she heard him correctly.

"What?" she asked mid yawn.

"Are you sure about this?" Aang repeated a bit louder. "About him?" Katara's brow drew down in confusion.

"Of course I'm sure," she let out an incredulous laugh. "This is a lot of effort if I wasn't sure." Aang shrugged.

"I mean, it's not too late to back out," he said. "If you decided it wasn't what you want." Katara blinked hard and shook her head. The alcohol and the late hour must have been getting to her. Nothing her friend was saying made any sense.

"I'm not backing out," she said. "Wait...did Zuko mention something about not wanting-"

"No!" Aang said quickly. "No, that's not...I'm just...Why him?"

"What?" Katara felt as if every nerve in her body had suddenly been electrified. She gaped at Aang in shock. He sat at the table, fidgeting with his half-empty cup. He took a breath and squared his shoulders. He turned his wide, grey eyes up at Katara.

"Why did you choose him?" he asked. "Why Zuko? Why not- why not me?" Katara was at a loss for words. She knew Aang had had feelings for her once, but that was years ago. They were adults now, and she thought he had long since moved on.

"I love him," she told Aang simply. "I've loved him a long time. Longer than we've been together."

"But I love you," Aang said. "I've loved you since I first opened my eyes and saw you there." Katara shook her head.

"You love an idea of me," she said. "You love that I took care of you. But Zuko...he loved me in my grief, and my anger. He loved me when I wasn't kind and sweet. He loved me when I wasn't at my best." Aang snorted and thew back the rest of the contents of his cup.

"So because I didn't encourage your worst parts I didn't measure up?" he demanded. "You chose him over me because he didn't expect better of you?" Katara gasped as if she had been slapped. Then she got angry.

"For your information, Zuko pushes me to be better all the time," she snapped. "He just doesn't pretend that my anger is out of character for me. He listens to me vent. He lets me be upset. He doesn't expect me to put on a smile and pretend like the situation isn't as bad as it is."

"I'd let you be upset!"

"Oh please!" Katara snorted derisively. "The day after Ozai captured my father, you wanted to go play and got annoyed when we wanted to plan our next steps!"

"I was a kid then!" Aang protested. "I wouldn't do that now."

"You think I just got over that?" Katara demanded. "Aang, you are my friend, and I love you, but you haven't done anything since then to prove that you care about any of my feelings that are inconvenient to you! And that's fine. That's our relationship because I am the one who takes care of you. That's what you needed from me. But, Aang...I my feelings were never going to turn romantic from that. You're like my little brother. Sometimes my son. I can't turn to you the way I turn to Zuko. He's...he's my best friend."

"I thought I was your best friend."

Katara sighed. In nearly ten years, Aang had come a long way from the boy that she and her brother had rescued from the iceberg, but perhaps not as far as she thought. She could see the traces of the kid she'd taken care of in the sag of his shoulders, and in the way his mouth turned down in his disappointment. For an instant, Katara wanted to pull him into a hug and comfort him, but she knew that wouldn't be the right move here.

"You are a friend I love dearly," Katara told him. "But I can't turn to you with my problems. I can't be my full self with you. If I had chosen you, it would've been for the wrong reasons. It would've been because I thought you needed me, or I was afraid of hurting your feelings, or I felt like I owed you for defeating Ozai."

"What's wrong with any of those reasons?" Aang was near tears at this point, and Katara felt awful. Still, she reasoned to herself, it was kinder to kill any hope of her he had been harboring.

"I wouldn't be choosing you because I love you," she told him. "I was never in love with you. If I chose you, it would've been because I felt obligated to, and that wouldn't have been fair to either of us. We both deserve to be loved for who we are completely. I have that with Zuko. I hope you let yourself find it with someone else." Tears were flowing down Aang's face now. Once again, Katara had to hold herself back from pulling him into a tight embrace. If their friendship had any chance of lasting, she knew she this was a wall that needed to be built high and strong.

"There's no one else in the world for me other than you," Aang said. Katara sighed and shook her head sadly.

"I really hope one day you'll realize that's not true. Goodbye, Aang."

#atla #zutara #anti aang #anti kataang #pre wedding confessions #THE YEAR OF CONTENT!!!!

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skywxikers · 5 months ago

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tua s4 spoilers ‼️

there’s my two cents on the five x lila subplot (as always this is my opinion, feel free to disagree)

the season itself is short, 6 episodes compared to the usual 10. that doesn’t give much time to develop characters or plots, and the fact that the subway subplot was thrown in episode 5 feels extremely rushed.

this will be long so everything’s below the cut

do i like the idea of five x lila? absolutely not. was this arc ok in terms of characterization? also no. but, there is a little merit to it (emphasis, little). lila and five are stuck together for 6 years with what seems like no way to get out. they only have themselves BUT this is where the disagreements start; they should’ve and could’ve stayed platonic. btw, i think both five and lila are at fault. lila has diego and her 3 kids, while five knows all this. they both made the (wrong) decision to get together. but also at the same time like. why get with the man who killed ur parents ?

ben and jennifer causing the cleanse is the main idea of the season, yet the ep right before the series finale turns into a whole new idea. if the writers wanted five to discover the deli with different fives, that easily could’ve been in a shorter timeframe. if the writers wanted some angst with lila and diego’s relationship, that also could’ve been done much much differently. lila is an assassin and diego a child forced to be a hero, the whole rift in their marriage is because neither of them are used to domesticity. yet when lila gets lost with five, she seems to be fine settling on a strawberry farm, being fluffy with five, and taking a break from trying to get home. fives character, on the other hand, has always been about how he’s simultaneously too old (mentally) and too young (physically) for love, which is why he had closure with delores, and half the time he’s too busy with apocalypses to care for love with a real person. i feel like most of that got thrown out the window. and it’s basically pedo like in both directions 😭

not to mention, all the aftermath when diego finds out is pointless compared to what’s coming, the cleanse. literally everyone dies, and the whole situation got unresolved as a result. even the argument at christmas dinner in front of both diego’s and lila’s family was not it, it lowk gave me cheesy rom com vibes.

imo, a better way to keep angst in their marriage without cheating is to have more interaction with diego and lila. the whole time she kept on avoiding him. they could’ve resolved the rough patch right at the end, like when diego said “i finally see u” and then the cleanse happens so they never get their happy ending together. in the actual finale, five got jealous and diego was upset and it was very messy.

not to mention that at the time of filming, aidan was 19 and barely a legal adult while ritu was almost 35 ish. the acting industry is so messed up.

i probably left some stuff out (i’ll edit this later) but thanks for listening to my ted talk

#five hargreeves #lila pitts #the umbrella academy #tua #tua spoilers #tua season 4 #tua s4

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queen-of-the-avengers · 9 months ago

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Everything Falls Into Place

Pairing: Steve Rogers x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2.4k

Warnings: fluff, worrying about not being able to adopt a child, anxiety

Request by anon: Aww if steve and vixen settle down imagine them fostering or adopting a child. In their words "adoption helps a kid"

Summary: You and Steve start the process of adopting a child. There are a lot of steps that you have to go through, including a background check. You're worried about your past as Vixen is finally going to bite you in the ass. This is it. This is the other shoe you've been waiting for to drop.

Cat and Mouse Masterlist

Squares Filled: social worker au (2021) for @star-spangled-bingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are appreciated <3

Tick. Tock.

“What is taking her so long?” you sigh impatiently.

“She’s only been gone five minutes. Calm down,” Steve chuckles from beside you. Steve looks over at you to see you bouncing your leg from how nervous you are. You’re wringing your fingers together to keep yourself from biting your nails. “Y/N, you’re acting like a criminal who just got caught. Take a deep breath.”

“Steve, this woman is the decider on whether or not we have a child. Forgive me if I’m a little anxious.”

Your social worker, Amy, takes another ten minutes before she’s back in the office, and you let out a relieved sigh that she hasn’t kicked you out… yet.

“I am so sorry. We’re extremely backed up,” she says and takes a seat across from you.

“It’s no problem,” Steve smiles politely.

“So, you’re looking to adopt a child? It’s a big responsibility.”

“Yes, ma’am. We’ve actually been wanting this for a while now.”

“Why now? Why not then?”

You and Steve look at each other in thought. Maybe it’s because you two were out fighting in wars you had no business being in. Maybe it’s because you finally came face to face with Zemo again after so many years of being away from him, and you almost killed him. Maybe it’s because even though you think you’re ready to be parents… you’re actually not.

“We felt like the timing wasn’t right,” Steve finally answers and peels his eyes away from you.

“Have you always wanted to have children?”

“Yes, I have,” Steve answers honestly. “For as long as I could remember.”

“And you?” Amy asks.

“In the beginning, yes. I mean, when I was a lot younger. Some shit happened to me and I didn’t allow myself to feel that way until recently. Maybe in the last couple of years? I can’t have children biologically, but I do want one.”

“I never know how to ask this question despite how many years I’ve been doing this, but what kind of parents would you two be?”

“I can’t say for sure. How can anyone know for sure? We’ve never taken care of a child before. There will be obstacles that we might not know how to get over but I can tell you one thing. We will do our very best to make sure this child is loved, safe, and raised to be the best person they can be.”

“That’s a good answer,” Amy smiles and writes in her notebook. Steve rubs his thumb on the back of your hand comfortingly. “This is going to be a long process but I have confidence that it will go by quicker than you think.” She hands over a piece of paper to Steve. “Here is a list of everything I will be needing by the end of this week. Legal papers. You know how it goes. Next will be an extensive background screening for everyone living in the adoptive household. After that will be the in-home interview and inspection of the home.”

You don’t hear anything past background screening. What if they find out about Vixen? They won’t want to give you a child when they figure out how many people you’ve killed. What if they come for the home inspection and find your room of weapons? You’re not getting a kid.

“Okay,” you squeak out.

Steve notices your panic but decides not to say anything about it until you two leave the office building.

“What’s going on?”

“What if they find out about Vixen? The Winter Soldier? My time in Hydra?”

“They won’t--”

“What if they do?” you cut him off. “What if they don’t see me fit to be a mother? What about the guns and shit we have at the house? They’re not going to allow us to be parents with all that there.”

“Baby, you need to calm down. We’re going to do fine.”

His words go in through one ear and out the other. You hear him talk but you’re not listening to a word he’s saying. When you get home, you immediately head to the room with all your weapons and begin taking them off the wall. If you’re going to make this house suitable for a child, you have to make sure it’s safe for one.

“Y/N, it’s going to be fine.”

“No, it’s not. We live in a state where it’s illegal to carry outside your home. We aren’t even allowed to have this many weapons in the house.”

Steve knows you have to do this in order to make yourself feel better. He leaves you to box the weapons while he gets his phone out of his pocket. He calls Bucky, Sam, and Nat to come over because he thinks having them here is going to help you. He has always been the more level-headed one in the relationship which is why he’s being so calm about this. He has faith that everything is going to work out just fine.

“How long has she been like this?” Nat asks when she gets there.

“Since we left the social worker.” They know you and Steve have wanted a child for a while now. “Nothing I say matters.”

“Hey, Y/N,” Natasha says and walks into the room. “You doing okay?”

“No, I’m not. I have to get these weapons out of here. Can you keep them for a while?”

“Sure. You’re going to do just fine. If anyone deserves a kid, it’s you two.”

“No, it’s not okay. Amy is going to come in here and see all these weapons and she is not going to give us a child. This isn’t safe for one. Or she will know I’m Vixen and think wow, a mass murderer assassin doesn’t deserve a kid. Or she’ll know about Bucky, Thanos, and everything else we have done in our lives.”

“Would it help if we helped you?”

“Yeah,” you smile.

Bucky, Sam, Nat, and Steve help clear out the room until it’s bare. This is the room you’re going to use for the nursery. You don’t have any supplies since you’re not sure when you’re going to be getting a kid, so you’ll keep it bare for now. Bucky and Nat take the weapons to hold onto until this whole thing blows over. Your house has a basement that you can put them into only until after the inspections are done.

On the day of the interview and home inspection, you have cookies baking in the oven to give the home a sweet smell. You have been cleaning all day to ease your worries. Steve is nervous as hell but less than you are.

“I think this is the tenth time you fluffed that pillow.”

“It has to be perfect.”

“It is. You are. It’s going to be fine.”

“I know. It’s going to be great,” you smile. Amy shows up on the dot, and you let her in eagerly. “Welcome to our home. It’s good to see you again.”

“Thank you. Wow, smells good in here.”

“I have cookies that just left the oven. Would you like one?”

“No, thank you. I have two more visits to do. Not to sound rude but I’d like to get started right away.”

“Of course.”

You two lead her to the living room and sit across from her. Steve reaches for your hand and pulls it into his lap.

“To start with, why don’t you two tell me what you two do for a living?”

“We are employed with Stark Industries,” Steve says. Happy sends money to every Avenger on behalf of Tony. You don’t need a job when your job is saving people who need it. Does she not know you two are Avengers? “We make about two hundred thousand each every year.”

“Do you enjoy your work?”

“We love it. I can’t see myself doing anything else.”

“What are some of your hobbies?” Amy asks you.

“I love to sew. I love making my own clothes. I actually made my own wedding dress. It brings me peace whenever it’s just me, a needle, and some fabric.”

“And you?” Amy asks Steve while writing in her notebook.

“I like to draw, sometimes. I’ve been practicing more these days. I like to fish. We have a cabin up north that we like to go to when the weather is nice.”

“Tell me about your marriage, and how your relationship is with your significant other.”

You look at Steve and smile lovingly at him.

“There is nothing I wouldn’t do for this man. He has saved me in ways you can’t possibly imagine. He’s my best friend. Sure, we have our ups and downs, but there is nothing we can’t accomplish together.”

“She said it right,” Steve chuckles. “I love her with all of my being. Our marriage has been nothing but great for these past few years. I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

“That’s sweet,” Amy smiles and writes. “Tell me about your relationship with your parents.”

“Both our parents are dead. We don’t have any living relatives,” you answer.

“To get with the technical questions, why do you want to adopt?”

“I’ve mentioned this before but I’m sterile. I can’t have children on my own. I know Steve wants a family. This is the only way I know how to give it to him. We don’t want to do fostering or a surrogate. We feel like it’s more our style to adopt.”

“What she said,” Steve chuckles.

“If granted the opportunity to adopt, what are your hopes for your child?”

“That they’re a good person,” Steve answers. “That they’ll see someone who needs help and will want to do that for them. Who will love unconditionally.”

“Alright,” Amy writes. “This is everybody’s least favorite section. I’ve done your background checks.” Your heart drops. This is it. This is where she tells you that you can’t adopt. “Now my main concern is your work with Hydra. You are the Vixen.”

“Were,” you correct. “I’m not that person anymore. Yes, I have done a lot of bad things in my life. Things you can’t possibly imagine. That isn’t who I am now. I have healed from that part of me. I got help. I made amends. I got Hydra out of my head. I don’t associate myself with those people anymore.”

“What about Bucky?”

“Bucky is healed, as well,” Steve takes over. “He went to Wakanda and underwent the same thing she did. They’re both trying to move on from their past.”

“That’s all it is, Amy. It’s my past. It’s not my present and it sure as hell isn’t going to be my future.”

Amy goes through more routine questions before she gets ready for the house inspection. You tell her the plans you have for the empty room which will be the nursery. She doesn't say much but she does write a lot of stuff down.

“Thank you for coming,” you say when she is done.

“I’ll be touch.”

As soon as the front door is closed, your smile is lost.

“God, we’re not going to get a kid. Did you see the look on her face when she mentioned Vixen? She knows I’ve killed before. What person would want me to be a mother?”

Steve pulls you close and lets you vent. “We won’t know more for a while. Let’s just try and keep a calm head. Even if she says no, we can try other avenues. We will be parents. You’d be a loving mother.”

And wait you did. For two long weeks. You thought that was their way of telling you that you weren't going to have a kid. Until your phone rang and changed your entire life.

“Hello?” you answer frantically.

“Hi, Y/N? I have some news regarding your adoption application.” You and Steve wait with held breaths. “I am very happy to say you’ve been approved. I can’t wait to work with you.”

“We can get a kid?” you ask tearfully.

“That’s the first part of the process. We have sent in your application to mothers who are looking to put their children up for adoption. If and when they pick you, I will call with the next steps.”

“Thank you so much.” You cry when she hangs up. “We’re getting a kid.”

Steve pulls you in and kisses the top of your head emotionally. You have to wait for a birth mother to pick you so until then, you just have to wait. Most couples wait months or even years to get called, but you get a call from Amy only a couple of days later with a date set to meet a birth mother who chose your application among a few others. You’re nervous as hell because what if she doesn’t pick you? What if she hates you as soon as she meets you?

You get to the office where the meetings are held and wait for Amy and the birth mother to come. Her name is Jessica and she is too young to be having a kid. She is only twenty-three and she doesn't want kids at this age. Maybe when she is older but definitely not now.

Jessica walks in and seems to be about six months pregnant. She just came back from meeting a potential couple, so you straighten up and smooth down your skirt to make yourself look more presentable.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you two. My name is Jessica.”

“Y/N and this is my husband, Steve. Thank you for seeing us.”

“Yeah, I was intrigued when I read about your hobbies and your work with Stark Industries. Did you know Tony?”

“Uh, yeah.” You look at Steve and have a silent conversation through your eyes. If she is going to pick you, she should know exactly who you are. “I hope this doesn’t affect us negatively but he’s Captain America and I’m… Vixen.”

It takes Jessica all of five seconds before she starts crying. This is it. This is where she runs for the hills and gets you blacklisted from ever adopting a child.

“Captain America saved my life,” she sniffles. “I was visiting a friend in Sokovia when Ultron happened. You saved me.” She turns to Amy and wipes her eyes. “I don’t want to see anyone else.” She looks at you with a teary smile. “I can’t think of anyone better to care for my child than you two.”

“I’ll get the paperwork started,” Amy smiles and leaves the room.

You can’t believe what you’re hearing. You’re getting a kid. You’re getting a kid. You’re finally able to start your own family.

Follow my library blog @aqueenslibrary where I reblog all my stories, so you can put notifications on there without the extra stuff :)

#steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fic #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fiction #steve rogers fan fiction #steve rogers fan fic #marvel fan fiction #marvel fanfic #marvel fic #marvel fan fic #mcu #marvel fluff #marvel fanfiction #marvel #mcu fanfiction #marvel fiction

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bueckerrss · 11 months ago

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P.S. I’ll always love you

pairing: chris x fem ! reader

-> warnings: cursing, angst. i think that’s it

————————————————————————

dear y/n,

i know it’s been three years since i last wrote a letter for you and i’m sorry about that, i’ve been extremely busy these couple of years never actually having time to sit down and write a letter.

a lot has happened in these past few years i met a beautiful woman named ophelia, she has beautiful long brown hair and beautiful hazel eyes, a beautiful smile and a gorgeous personality.

i know i said that after you i would never fall in love again but something about her attracted me and i started going out with her, i felt guilty for weeks after i realized i actually liked her because i felt like i let you down, i felt like i was cheating on you even if you aren’t here with me anymore.

everyone likes her but i know they have one thought in the back of their heads “she’s not y/n” and i know that because i have that thought too, she’ll never be you and she could never take your place no matter how hard she tried.

she knows that she could never replace you and she doesn’t try taking your spot in my heart, that’s one of the things i love about her, she understands that you have a special place in my heart, she actually asks me about you she always asks to hear stories about you or how you were, i tell her the things i remember because im not going to lie to you you’re slowly fading from my memory and i hate it.

i hate how i can’t remember your voice anymore, i hate how i can’t remember the sound of your laugh, i hate how i can’t remember the way you say my name, i hate how i can’t recall the way you would speak to trevor, the way you would speak to little kids, the way you would look at me when i would jokingly say no to movie nights and cuddles i regret that day.

i honestly had it so good with you and i didn’t realize it until i lost you, i wish i had gone to that appointment with you to see why you were feeling sick that day , i remember when you got into the accident i was running down the ICU hallway praying that you were still alive once i got there i was with you for approximately five minutes before your monitors started beeping that’s when my heart stopped i remembered being pushed out of the room by nurses telling me they needed to do tests on you and i couldn’t be in the room.

after what felt like hours i got the horrible news that you were no longer with us, that’s when my world came crashing down. i thought this was just a horrible nightmare that i would soon wake up from but now its been 4 years and i’m still in this horrible nightmare.

last time a song you used to love started playing and i like to think that it was you telling me that you’re okay and that i should stop worrying about you or how you’re doing. that song made me remember the time i stayed at your house and it was past two in the morning you decided we should get some snacks, we were in your kitchen getting the snacks when that song started playing it was playing lowly so i was surprised you even heard it but you had me dancing with you the only source of light we had coming from the fridge.

that day constantly plays in my mind and at this point i think that’s the only memory i have left of you but deep down i know there’s more things i remember about you but i just can’t seem to find them the only times i do remember are when nick or matt mention them.

that’s all i have to say for this letter since i’m running out of time and words but just know that i’ll try better on my next letter, i mean it’s not like you’re reading them but still i like to think that you moved away and you are receiving them.

sincerely,

ta chérie.

P.S. I’ll always love you.

—————————————————————————————————————

ummmmm hey yall this is the long awaited part dos so hopefully yall liked this 🧍🏽‍♀️

tags: @sturnioloslurps @hearts4chris

and lmk if you want to be added to the tag list !!! :)))

#chris sturniolo #christopher sturniolo #nick sturniolo #nicolas sturniolo #matt sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #fanfic #sturniolo fanfic

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p-artsypants · 5 days ago

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The Pale Rider (5) The Shambling will Cease

The Isle of Berk is cursed. Like, extremely cursed. It has been for generations. The extent of the curse has been forgotten over time, but no descendants of the original village are able to leave the island, lest they suffer a gruesome fate. Three years ago, the Blacksmith invited the Pale Rider to town. He’s a creature that’s haunted the forest and childhood campfire stories for centuries. Now, he arrives every day at noon. One day, Astrid Hofferson decides to be brave and talk to him. He’s actually really nice…for an eldritch abomination. A Beauty and the Beast AU.

Ao3

It was early in the morning. Most businesses, minus the bakery, weren’t open yet. The morning dew was still fresh on the patches of grass strewn about the square, and the horizon was orange with the rising sun. Astrid entered Gobber’s shop, hoping to speak to him before anyone else arrived.

Luckily, he was there, lighting the fires.

“Oh! Astrid! My, you’re early!”

She latched the half door shut behind her, a pep in her step. “Good morning, Gobber. I wanted to talk to you about something.”

“Must be pretty important if you’re here so damn early,” he noted again.

“I can come back,” she pointed at the door.

“No no, none of that. What do you need?”

“The Rider seems to have a knack for gift giving.”

“That he does!”

“I thought maybe…he’d like a gift in return?”

Gobber chuckled. “Knowing him, he’d probably try to pay you for it.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of…”

“What were you thinking about giving the poor creature?”

She hopped up to sit on the counter, and swung her legs idly. “I’ve noticed he doesn’t walk so well. He said his leg was taken a long time ago. I think his fake leg is broken or too short.”

“So you want me to make him a prosthesis?”

“I was just…wondering if that was possible? But the problem is, I really don’t have the coin to pay for it. I could bring you fresh flowers for your shop everyday!”

“That’s not necessary, dearie. He’s been overpaying me for everything for years. I’ve got plenty of cushion to make him a leg.”

“Would you?” She folded her hands in front of her chest.

“Sure! Though, I don’t know why he never asked me for one before.”

“I think he doesn’t have a lot of self-love. You know, he said the curse on this island is because of something he did.”

“Really? What did he do?”

“He says he can’t remember. How hard must it be to repent for a crime you didn’t know you committed?”

Gobber hummed sadly. “Poor lad. He’s had a rough life.”

“Yeah? He told you about it?”

“Tiny fragments, every once in a while. You know, it wasn’t until earlier this year he started talking in full sentences. First two years, I had a lot of ‘yes’, ‘no’, and pointing. That doesn’t come from a life of ease.”

Again, Astrid felt that weird churning in her gut. A deep sense of grief for this friend that was still mostly a stranger. How lonely must he be? Talking about his parents had led him to tears.

If she could give him a brief moment of happiness, it would be worth it.

—

She was thrilled to see that Dagur was busy today. With what, she had no idea. She really didn’t care, as long as he was leaving her the hell alone.

The Rider came around the bend, and she smiled and waved at him.

He raised his hand and awkwardly waved back.

She stooped to grab a parcel from inside her cart, and pulled out the thorny vines with purple berries he had asked for. “Your order, good sir.”

“Thank you, Astrid,” he began before Toothless snatched the bouquet out of her hands. “How much do I owe you?”

“5 gold please!”

There was mirth in his voice as he said, “I guess you are taking to heart what I said about the treasure.” He held his hand out, and five golden, shiny coins fell into hers.

“And…” she crouched again, and this time, gave him a small satchel brimmed with silver coins. “Your change.”

He sighed. “Astrid…”

“You said you were running out of silver!” She protested.

“Yes, but I don’t want more.”

“Too bad, if you want to be my friend, you’ll accept it.”

He hummed, amused that she was using that on him. “Very well, Miss Hofferson.” He waved his hand over the satchel, and it disappeared.

“Now that our business is concluded,” Astrid beamed. “Let’s go to Gobber’s!”

He tilted his head. “Are you so eager to be rid of me?” Another one of his weird jokes.

“Nope! I just think you’ll find something interesting there, is all.”

He watched her waltz in front and take hold of Toothless’ reins, and then start leading them over to the forge.

“You are eager about something, in fact,” he noted.

She tilted her head and nodded, still grinning.

Gobber greeted them boisterously as they entered. “Rider! Astrid! What a surprise!”

“How could this be a surprise?” Rider asked. “I come to see you at the same time every day.” He slid off his horse, but stayed drawn back, hesitant. “What is going on?”

Gobber gave him a reassuring smile. “Astrid commissioned me on your behalf.”

He ducked his head. “Me? What would she possibly have you do for me?”

“Your leg,” she explained. “Your fake one. It hurts, doesn’t it?”

He took a step back, shoulders hunching. “How could…?”

“Gobber has a missing leg too,” she gestured. “But he doesn’t walk as slow or staggering like you do. We want to help.”

He shook his head. “I deserve no such kindness.”

“Barnstat!” Gobber hollered. “Every man deserves the chance to walk properly if his body allows it!”

“But—”

“No buts!” Gobber shook a hook at him. “You’ve been coming here for three years. You’ve pumped money into our village that no one has acknowledged. Snotlout won’t shut up about the sword you gave him, and Fishlegs’ uncle hasn’t stopped giggling since he saw that book! You’re getting a new leg! Are you going to sit down and let me measure? Or are we gonna do this the hard way?” He twisted his hook, menacingly.

The Rider was stunned silent for a very long time. Slowly, he took a step forward, limping as he did. “Very well.”

“Great!” Gobber grabbed a stool and brought it forward. “Take a seat.”

Like everything he did, the Rider hesitated before sitting down. As he sat, he threw his cloak back so it would be out of the way. Then he gathered the front and tied it up into a loose knot.

This revealed his legs, up to the top of his thighs. Almost normal human legs, but long and gangly. His right leg had armor, greaves, or greave, since it was just the one, and a sabaton. The outside was a shiny, black metal, while the joints were covered in a dark chainmail. The left leg, however, was made of wood. Starting just below the knee, a bundle of sticks gathered together with rope, tightly woven to truncate in a point to walk on.

It simply couldn’t be comfortable.

“Lad, did you make this?”

He shook his head. “It’s what I was given.” He rolled up the black fabric of his pants to reveal the snow white skin of his knee. Closer to the amputation, the skin became scarred, gnarled, blistered and bloody. It was nauseating to look at.

Gobber frowned. “And you say you lost it a long time ago?”

The Rider nodded.

“The wound looks fresh.”

“Yes. A part of the curse.” He reached down and grabbed hold of the bundle of sticks that made up his leg. “As is this.” He pulled, making a horrible squelching noise. The Rider audibly whimpered, dislodging the sticks from his skin. The ends were pointed, and had been held in place by being stabbed into his leg, like some sort of horrible pin cushion.

“Oh dear Odin…” Gobber looked sick.

Astrid couldn’t breathe. Her poor friend, walking around with this unimaginable pain. No wonder he walked the way he did!

Astrid grabbed his hand, curling her fingers around them and ignoring the shivers that ran down her spine. “You don’t deserve this.”

“But—”

“No. No, I don’t care what you did. 300 years of this is inhumane. Please let us help you.”

He looked at his leg, almost numbly, as drips of dark blood fell from the multiple stab wounds.

Gobber got up and got a bucket and rag. “You know, I don’t feel right about giving you any kind of prosthesis until that wound heals.

“I don’t think it will,” said the Rider.

“Not if it’s being stabbed over and over with a dozen spears!” Gobber shook the cursed pegleg. “I’m gonna make you a proper one, but it might take a couple of days. I’ve got a temporary one you can use in the meantime.” And he chuckled the leg in the forge.

“Gobber! It’s black wood!” Astrid shouted, in vain.

The leg caught fire immediately, exploding in bright eye-burning green flames that filled the forge and licked the ceiling. The burst sounded like the scream of a dying woman. Astrid and Gobber fell to the floor, covering their faces. As the flames died down a foul smelling smoke filled the room.

Gobber took the charred leg with some tongs and threw it into the back yard.

“I’m sorry,” said the Rider.

Astrid coughed and fanned the air in front of her face. “Not your fault.”

“But—”

She poked his chest, right on the sternum. “Not. Your. Fault!”

He didn’t argue. Just fell silent.

Astrid took the rag and bucket that Gobber had brought out and started cleaning the wound.

“Careful, my blood is poisonous,” he warned.

“So are a lot of things on this island, and yet I pick them. I don’t have any open cuts on my hands. Don’t worry.”

He fidgeted with his hands, rubbing his thumb on his index finger.

“Does this hurt?”

“No, it feels…quite nice.”

“‘Cause you’re not bein’ stabbed!” Gobber exclaimed. “I’m gonna have nightmares about this for weeks!”

“Again, I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Astrid comforted, bandaging the wound. “So you made a grave mistake 300 years ago. The person that’s really at fault here is the one that did this to you. So…who is it? Can you remember?”

The green fire that was his eyes went dim, as he raised a hand to his head. “...it was…my best friend.”

“What kind of friends do you keep?” Scoffed Gobber.

“Well, you two.”

“Besides us,” Astrid smiled. “Can you remember anything else about them?”

“...betrayal,” he whispered. “Blood spilt…he…he knew magic.” He shook his head. “That’s all I can remember.”

“Well, that’s certainly a start,” Supplied Astrid.

“I got it,” Gobber snapped her fingers. “Sounds to me like you betrayed and killed your best friend. There’s many a folklore that says that a mage’s blood is powerful, even after death. If true, his blood would have been on you, and also seeped into the ground. Ta-da, curse solved!” Gobber stated, plainly, seemingly not bothered by the idea of the Rider being a murderer.

“It makes sense,” said the Rider. “I just…wish I could remember. I would pray for forgiveness. But I don’t even remember what I did exactly.”

Astrid patted his hands. “It’ll be alright. You’ve long served your time. Now, let us help you.”

Gobber then took measurements. A few sitting down, and a few standing and using the counter for balance.

At the end of it, Gobber brought out a standard peg leg with a leather cuff. He had to add a block to the bottom to make up for the extra height.

“Alright lad, this attaches very simple. You just pull this cuff over your leg, and then pull the drawstrings nice and tight.” He did it for him as a demonstration. The Rider then straightened and bent his knee a few times to test it, then he carefully got up, keeping his weight on his good leg. Then he slowly balanced on both, and then took a step.

“Well?” Asked Gobber.

“It's a relief. The pain is…so mild now.” He took another few steps, and Astrid noted happily that he wasn’t lurching like before. Just walking. “I don’t know how I could ever thank you.”

Gobber waved him off. “That’s just the spare leg! I’ll have a right proper one for you in a few days.”

The Rider held his hand out, offering a handshake. Gobber clasped his hand, only to have the Rider wrap his other hand around that one and squeeze. “I will forever be indebted to your kindness.”

Gobber attempted to pull away, uncomfortable with the immense gratitude being laid on him.

But the Rider held firm. “I never would have had friends if you hadn’t invited me into town. Thank you, Gobber.”

Gobber wiped a tear from the corner of his eye with his wrist. “Aye lad, you’re very welcome. Now stop before ye make me cry.”

The Rider let go, and hummed fondly.

“Wanna go show the others?” Astrid asked, eagerly.

The Rider nodded, and bid Gobber another fond farewell.

They stopped at Fishlegs’, the twins, and at Heather’s. Each time, before any greetings, he pulled his cloak aside and pointed. “Gobber fixed my leg.”

“Oh, how good for you!” Said Fishlegs.

“Whoa, you had a wooden leg?” Said Tuffnut.

“Lucky bastard,” said Ruffnut.

“That Gobber sure is handy!” Said Heather.

“Okay, and I care why?” Said Snotlout.

Astrid didn’t have the heart to explain just how much pain the Rider had been in before the new leg. She wasn’t even sure how to explain the way the old leg had been attached. That would inevitably lead to more questions, and telling the others that she and Gobber theorized the Rider was a murderer was not a good idea.

Maybe in a few…years.

Or maybe never, if she and Gobber could solve the curse without their help.

After tea, the Rider remained, not running away abruptly like he had been.

“Do you have anywhere you need to be?” She asked.

“Oh,” he clenched his hand up by his mouth. “You have to get back to work.”

“Well, eventually, yes, but that’s not what I meant.”

He tilted his head at her, prompting her to go on.

“There’s one more person I want you to meet. I’ve been telling her about you, and she’s eager to meet you.” She started heading down the road, and he followed, guiding Toothless patiently along as well. “She…it’s my mother.”

The Rider hummed. “And…she is sick, correct?”

“Yes.” Astrid swallowed. “No one knows with what. Gothi, the medicine woman, said she’s…” A lump got caught in her throat, and Astrid didn’t know how to continue.

The Rider’s hand fell upon her shoulder, offering a warm gesture, despite the cold touch.

“She’s dying,” Astrid whispered. “And there’s nothing we can do about it.”

“I’m sorry,” the Rider said back, just as softly.

“I don’t think this is curse related,” she clarified. “Just…something we don’t understand yet. Which almost makes it harder. Because no one knows what it is, no one knows if it’s contagious. And because of that…no one comes to visit her.”

“That’s sad.”

“I sit with her most evenings, after work. I’ve told her all about you. I thought she’d be worried, but she was just curious.”

“That’s refreshing.”

She smiled. “I’m sure!”

She led him up to her little cottage. It was small, but had enough of a yard that she could garden. Every inch of soil around the cottage was teeming with plants and flowers. There was no guessing who lived there.

“Very nice,” he commented, reaching out and touching some apricot roses growing around the door.

“My mom planted this garden,” Astrid gestured. “She ran the flower stall, and taught me everything I know. I…actually don’t care about flowers all that much.”

“Really?” His voice raised in surprise.

“Yeah, I mean, they’re pretty and I care about them because of my mom, but…if it had been up to me, I would have had a different job.”

He leaned towards her. “What job?”

“Well…I always liked fighting. I’m pretty handy with an axe. Maybe a guard or a hunter. Something with some action, you know?”

“I see it.” He nodded. “You have a fighting spirit.”

She smiled proudly, before beckoning him inside. “Mother, I’m home! And I’ve brought a guest!”

“Oh my! Is it the young man you’ve been telling me about?” Phlegma Hofferson’s harsh voice called from upstairs.

The cottage had one large room and a loft. The large room had a kitchen, table, and sitting area. A small bed was tucked under the stairs.

The Rider studied the room as Astrid went up the stairs. “I don’t know about the ‘young’ part…”

“Oh pish posh, he’s young at heart. Aren’t you, dearie?”

The Rider ascended the stairs after Astrid, having to duck his head as he came up.

Astrid beckoned him to sit in the empty chair, as she sat on the bed.

Awkwardly, the Rider sat down, and then raised his gaze to meet Phlegma’s smiling, but ashen gray face. “Hello, Madam Hofferson.”

“My! You are a fearsome one! I had almost forgotten. It’s been a while since I was able to look outside and see your arrival.”

“...you do not seem scared.”

She shook her head. “No, dear. I’m not. I’m at the stage of my life where I have more things to fear within me, than outside.”

The thought made Astrid feel cold.

“I understand the feeling,” said the Rider.

“I knew you would.” She closed her eyes and relaxed. “I was hoping Astrid would bring you to meet me sometime. I couldn’t bear leaving this world without getting the chance to speak with you.”

“Mother…” Astrid hated when she talked about her mortality. Phlegma had obviously accepted her fate, but Astrid just couldn’t.

“I’m glad,” said the Rider. “Astrid has become a dear friend. Probably the best I’ve had. I would have been…saddened to have not met you when I had the chance.”

Was he implying that she was his best friend? After only so many days?

“My Astrid is such a loving girl. Her heart is so big. She loves everyone! No matter how tall or scary.”

Astrid felt her lip twitch. “Well, not everyone,” She insisted. “Kinda hard to find love for Dagur.”

Phlegma laughed. “I meant besides him, of course.” She sighed, a hard rattling breath settling in her chest. “Now Rider, tell me about yourself.”

“What do you want to know?”

“Do you live up in that big castle all by your lonesome?”

He shook his head. “There are…several that dwell in the castle. Toothless, of course. And my parents. And…” he hesitated, but then didn’t finish the sentence.

“And?” Astrid persisted.

“And others. But we don’t speak.”

That was news.

“You have parents?” Phlegma asked, surprised.

“Everyone seems surprised when I say that.” He tilted his head, and answered the inevitable question. “They are also cursed. They can’t leave. Toothless and I are the only ones that can.”

“But you can’t leave the island, right?” Phlegma asked. “Like the rest of us?”

“That’s correct. Even if I could, I don’t believe I would want to.”

“What’s your mother’s name, dear?”

He paused, raising a hand to his head. It was heartbreaking to think he didn’t know immediately. “It’s Valka, and my father is Stoick. Stoick the Vast.”

“My! What a mighty name! He must be a big man!”

“He was, once. And I was small.” He tilted his head, seemingly thoughtful. “He would…pick me up, just by the back of the shirt. He was mad at me a lot.”

Astrid was hesitant to make any noise, lest she distract him. It seemed like he was finally remembering his past. “...but he’s not mad anymore. He should be, but he’s not.”

“What’s he like, then?” Asked Astrid.

He bowed his head, his hands fidgeting awkwardly. After a minute, he spoke, and his voice held so much sorrow, Astrid thought he might just start crying again. “Gracious.”

She came back around to the fact that his actions had caused the curse, allegedly, of course.

But his father forgave him for it? A man who’s anger shone through his hazy memory, had forgiveness for his son. It was a discordant piece of information. She was pretty sure that if she betrayed and murdered Heather, which resulted in a curse on the whole island, her father would be pretty pissed at her.

If he was still alive, that is.

Astrid realized she had been lost in thought for a while as her mother prattled on. The woman could be an absolute chatterbox when she was feeling well.

The Rider just sat there, as he seemingly listened to her mother. And he was listening intently, she realized, as he would nod his head at appropriate intervals, and slip in a question to encourage her to continue.

The conversation was mostly village gossip, old gossip at that, since Phlegma hadn’t been out among people in a long time.

Astrid feared that the Rider would get lost, but if he was, he didn’t show it.

“Mother,” Astrid interrupted, as gently as possible. “I have to get back to the stall.”

“Oh! Of course, dear.”

“Can I stay?” Asked the Rider, first to Astrid, and then to her mother. “If you are not tired of my company.”

Phlegma lit up with joy. “Oh my boy, I would love it if you kept me company!”

“Are you sure?” Astrid asked. “That’s kind of you, but you don’t have to—”

“Astrid, I told you, I’m happiest around people that talk to me without fear.”

She couldn’t really find an argument against that. Really, it was wonderful he wanted to stay. They were both lonely people, desperate to connect to the outside world.

But there was just this nagging feeling in her mind. Hazy memories of the same nightmare over and over, of the Pale Rider coming into her house and taking her mother away.

It was what prompted this visit, and what prompted her to talk to the Rider in the first place.

So the logical next step was to allow it. Leave him alone with her mother and see for herself that there was nothing to fear.

“Okay,” Astrid breathed. “You can stay. But, come say goodbye to me when you head out, okay?”

“I will,” he hummed.

With anxiety coursing through her, Astrid went back to work, standing behind her stall and keeping her eyes trained on her house.

Maybe an hour later, he emerged, fetching Toothless from where he was grazing on weeds from the cobblestone streets. Then, just as he promised, he came over to her stall.

“Your mother yawned a few times. I decided to leave so she could rest.”

There had been nothing to worry about. Absolutely nothing!

“Did you have a good chat?”

“Oh yes!” He said, enthusiastically. “May I visit again?”

Astrid gaped in surprise. “I…suppose. I’ll ask and see if she’s okay with it.”

“She invited me,” he clarified. “I only thought it was right to ask you as well.”

“I…don’t see why not. She needs company. And I’ve heard all her stories before. Yeah, I think she’d really like to have you visit.”

“Thank you, Astrid.”

#fanfiction #how to train your dragon #httyd #hiccup #hiccstrid #hiccup haddock #astrid hofferson #gobber the belch #the pale rider

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skzhocomments · 9 months ago

Text

The Five Stages of Grief - Bang Chan Oneshot Fanfic

(And a second cover because I couldn't decide)

General Masterlist

Pairing: Bang Chan (Stray Kids) x OC/Reader (Story is written in 2nd person, no name is mentioned)

Genre: angst

Word Count: ~10k

Warnings: death, devastatingly sad, mentions of self-harm, suicidal thoughts. No comfort, although it does end in a positive note. Ending is hopeful if you squint.

This is just a story that doesn’t describe Bang Chan or other mentioned Stray Kids’ members true characters in any way. It’s just a product of my imagination and should be treated as such.

This story is also on Wattpad (click here) and AO3 (click here)

---

A/N: As any other writer out there, I would appreciate reblogs and your comments on this story. Please let me know if you enjoyed it, and most importantly, have fun!

---

The Five Stages of Grief

---

“Hey Channie!” You entered his studio with a smile plastered on your face, that soon enough turned into a frown when you noticed your boyfriend of almost 5 years hasn’t even acknowledged your presence.

He tended to do that a lot, especially when working on new comebacks. His whole focus was on that damn computer which you were sure by now was your life-sworn enemy. It’s hard having to compete with a screen to get your boyfriend’s attention, but such was life sometimes, and there was nothing you could do about it.

You knew the risks that came with dating an idol, you just didn’t know how much worse it could be if you were to date a workaholic, perfectionist idol.

This was Chan.

He spent hours and hours and hours cramped in his small studio, perfecting beats, arranging vocals, switching up different rhythms and trying to figure out what could work out and have the most success between his fans.

“Have you eaten?” You asked, kissing his cheek, and only then did he notice you’re there, and pulled out his headphones.

“Oh, hi. Didn’t see you come in.” Was all he said, his face scrunched in concentration. “Did you say something?”

“Just asked if you’ve had dinner yet.”

He must’ve, right? It was well past 11 pm, but one of his bad habits was working himself to death, and more often than not, he would skip meal times entirely simply because he wasn’t good at keeping track of time.

“I had a protein bar earlier.” He shrugged.

“Want me to order you something? Or even better, why don’t we both head home?” You asked with a smile, trying to be convincing enough for your boyfriend.

It usually worked.

He would normally laugh off your attempts to be nice and realise that you’re just trying to take care of him, and he would comply and go home with you for the night, then resume his work the next day.

Once you’d be home, he would crash immediately, proof of how tired he’d been and how much he’d ignored his body’s needs. His sheer determination was scary.

However, none of this happened tonight. He rolled his eyes and muttered a small “There she goes again.”

You played it off, though, realising he probably didn’t mean for you to hear that. Brave on his part, you thought, in such a small quiet studio.

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked, your tone still friendly, as if you were joking with him.

What you didn’t expect was for him to turn his whole chair towards you, his expression angrier than you’ve ever seen him.

“You heard me. God, it’s so frustrating having you come here all the time bossing me around. Eat! Sleep! Stop working! Can’t you see I’m busy?!” He ranted, pointing towards his computer screen.

“Wow, sorry, Mr. Busy.” You chuckled, despite being slightly angry with his words.

He doesn’t mean them. You told yourself. This is another one of his bad habits: bursting out and speaking cruel words whenever he’s extremely stressed and has tight deadlines. It hadn’t happened often, only a handful of times in your years long relationship, but it hurt nonetheless whenever it did.

“And there you go mocking me.” He rolled his eyes at you. “It’s like you don’t even care about the work I’m doing.”

“It’s not that, Chan. You know how much I value your work, it’s just-”

“Yeah, bullshit.” He laughs. “If you would, you’d stop barging in here demanding things from me when you know I have stuff to do.”

“Hey, I know you had a tough couple of days with the comeback and all, but there’s no need for you to take it out on my like this.” You crossed your arms in front of your chest, this time feeling genuinely upset. It’s like he’s escalating it on purpose.

“No, it’s not just a tough couple of days. Don’t you get it? You do this shit all the time, and I’m frankly sick and tired of it. Can’t you just leave me be for once and stop being so controlling?”

“Controlling?” You asked, baffled. “How am I controlling, huh? By making sure you eat and sleep when you’re supposed to?”

“How do you even know what I’m supposed to do?! You always think you know best, but you never fucking consider any of my needs and wants.”

“Literally everything I do is fucking consider your needs, Chan.” You answered coldly.

“No. You’re just too deep in your head and can’t fucking figure out when to back down, so I’m telling you. Stop telling me what to do and leave me alone if I’m busy. God, I don’t need this shit.”

He mumbled the last sentence and put his headphones back in, turning his attention back to the screen.

Maybe you shouldn’t have done what you did next, but he hurt you, and you didn’t like the way your conversation apparently ended. You wanted to know what he meant, so you grabbed his headphones’ wire and pulled them out of his ears forcefully.

The way he turned to you and the look he threw you almost made your blood freeze, but you were far too upset to care about upsetting him anymore.

“What exactly don’t you need, huh? What is this shit, exactly?!” You gestured with your hands.

“You can’t fucking let it go, can you?” He laughed in a baffled way.

“No, unless you tell me what this shit is.”

“This. Us. Everything. I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.”

“Oh, is that so?” You asked, expressionless.

He hurt you, but by his anger still present on his features, you realised it’s all pointless. You’re not going to see eye to eye tonight.

“Do you want to break up?” You let out, the words burning your tongue, and Chan’s eyes widen.

“What? No! Fuck, you twist my words.” He sighs, exasperated. “Just leave. Let’s talk about it tomorrow.”

When he doesn’t say anything else, you let out a shaky breath and watch him put his headphones back in.

“Oh, and this?” He starts, pointing to one end of the headphones. “Never do this shit again.”

You watch silently how he turns his chair to look back at the damn screen, without caring that you’re still there in the room.

The discussion is over.

“I see. Fine. I’ll go.” You let out, tears beginning to spill down your cheeks. He didn’t see them, and it felt like he didn’t even care that he’s made you cry.

You quietly made your way out of the room, your sight too blurry to see anything, and you headed home.

---

Denial

---

Chan’s eyes are beginning to sting painfully, and after rubbing them and checking the time, he figures out why.

It’s way over 5 AM when he decides to finally leave the studio, and although it’s still dark out, the streets are already starting to get filled with people hurrying to whatever painful morning shift they are scheduled for.

It takes him about 20 minutes to get back to your shared apartment, and when he does, nothing seems unusual at first.

The house is expectedly quiet, it being so early in the morning, and he already imagines how deep in sleep you must be by now.

He feels guilty for how he treated you, that he let the anger consume him once again, and he regrets it. He always regrets it when he lets stress get the better of him.

As he heads towards the bathroom to wash the harsh day off his skin, he starts thinking about how he could make it up to you. Should he buy you flowers and bring you breakfast in bed in 4 hours when you’ll most likely get up?

Although he hasn’t slept at all.

Should he take you out on a date after he’s well rested? There was this restaurant you mentioned a couple of times that you wanted to try, but he didn’t have enough time to take you there to eat yet, not with all the planned comebacks and the work that keeps piling up.

Maybe tomorrow is finally the day.

He finishes his shower and rubs his eyes again, and God, how tired he is, just as usual when he pulls out all-nighters. Everything seems ordinary, but as he opens the bedroom door, however, something is unusual.

You are not there.

Confused, he takes out his phone to check for any messages you might’ve sent him, but upon noticing there’s no new notifications, he throws the phone on the bed, screen down, defeated.

Did you really think he wants to break up? Did you finally have enough and left him?

He knows he treated you badly tonight, but he thought it’s just a small drop in an ocean of happiness. Arguments are unavoidable, unfortunately, and he can’t always be the perfectly composed man he’s striving to become.

Would you really leave after a couple of cruel words he didn’t even mean? He starts asking himself as he gets into bed. Surely you know how much he loves and needs you there for him. It was just a bad night, that’s all.

Maybe you just wanted some space, and decided to head to a friend, or to a hotel or something.

He thinks about calling you, but with how late it is – or rather, how early – he knows he’d just disturb you or any of your friends you would’ve gone to if he were to call.

He decides to go to sleep instead and figure it all out tomorrow morning, when his mind is clearer, and when you’ve both had enough time to cool down.

His head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and feels multiple pulsations against all sides of his skull.

This is the worst migraine he’s ever had, and he realises how right you were when trying to convince him to go to sleep early. He really needed more sleep.

He grabs his phone to check the time, and when he does, he sees it’s flooding with notifications. His manager called him about a dozen times, starting at 8 AM and continuing up until 15 minutes ago, and he has multiple missed calls and messages from all the members.

Ugh, it’s only 10.

Did I have a schedule I’ve forgotten about? He wonders, rubbing his eyes confused, but checking the date, he knows it’s his day off.

He decides to head to the bathroom and freshen up, while picking up his phone and dialling his manager’s number.

He reaches the bathroom and puts toothpaste on his brush, and by the time the phone rang two times, his manager picks up.

“Chan! Where are you?” He asks, his voice hurried. “Why haven’t you picked up?”

He begins lazily brushing his teeth and checks the date again, and sure enough, it’s his free day. There’s nothing in his schedule.

“Huh? What do you mean?” He asks, his voice still ridden with sleep, still tired from the lack of rest. “It’s my day off.”

“Are you at home?”

“Yes. Where else?”

“Good. That’s… okay. Have you talked to anyone yet?”

“No…? You’re acting weird. What’s going on?”

“Listen, Chan. Something… something bad happened. I need you to sit down for a moment, okay?”

“Okay...?” Chan nods absent-mindedly, continuing to brush his teeth, oblivious about what’s coming.

“Last night… God, I don’t even know how to break this to you, so I’ll just say it. Do note that the company will do its best to assist you and-”

“Cut to the chase. What’s wrong?” Chris asks, starting to get worried. He finishes brushing his teeth, and just as he prepares to put the toothbrush down, his manager’s next words make him drop it to the floor instead.

“Your girlfriend passed away last night. She was hit by a drunk driver on a crosswalk, and although an ambulance got there in less than 2 minutes, she was already… I’m sorry.”

The line falls silent as Chan tries to process what his manager just said. The only sound in the room is made by the toothbrush hitting the bathroom’s white floor tiles.

Chan heard wrong. There’s no other explanation.

“That can’t be.” He dismisses his manager completely. “She was just with me in the studio last night, and then she came-”

Home. But you weren’t home.

“She must’ve gone to a hotel or something.”

“Chan… I’m truly, truly sorry. As I said, we’re going to support you through this tough time with everything we’ve got.”

What tough time? Chan wants to ask but stays silent instead.

He picks the discarded toothbrush from the floor and throws it away. How careless he’s been, dropping it.

He wants to chuckle at his stupidity, and he can’t wait to tell you about it. You’re going to nag him again for being careless and dropping things. This is the 3rd toothbrush he’s changing this month.

“Oh, God! Again?” He can already picture you with an amused expression on your face, your arms crossed. “You’re always dropping stuff on the floor!”

The thought brings the ghost of a smile on his face, and he starts wondering again where you might be. Surely your manager is mistaken.

“Her parents tried getting in touch with you, but they said you didn’t pick up. You should give them a call.” His manager continues to say. “From what they’ve told us, the funeral will be held tomorrow morning. JYPE offered to pay for all expenses. Anyways, this must be too much information to swallow for now, so I’ll come pick you up in 20 minutes and we can go to the company together. The rest of the boys are already here.”

“Okay, see you in 20 minutes.” Chan replies, not really understanding what’s happening.

He ignores the countless missed calls and messages and opens his call history to dial your number instead.

It goes straight to voice mail.

“Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?”You chuckled, asking him with an unsure look on your face.

“Yes. The beep-”

“Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!” You cheerfully said, ending the recording with a small laugh.

“Are you going to keep it like that?” He asked amused.

“Why not? It’s straight to the point!”

“You left my voice in it, though.”

“Oh, does it bother you? I can record again if you want me to.”

“No, no need. I just – isn’t it a bit weird?” He chuckled. “You even forgot to say your name.”

“Whatever.” You waved a dismissive hand in the air. “If they called my number, they know who they’re calling.”

“Fair enough.” He laughed.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He chuckles absent-mindedly at the memory of him teaching you how to record a message redirecting your callers to leave a voice mail. You’ve never been good at technology.

“Hi, babe. Can you please call me? I need to talk to you.” He says, deciding to leave a message, even though he isn’t convinced that you’ll get to hear it. You usually forget to check your voice mail.

He tries calling again, just for good measure.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly’?

Yes. The beep-‘

And again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?’

Yes.’

‘Hello! You’ve called…’

‘Hello!’

He throws his phone on the bed exasperated. Why aren’t you picking up?

You didn’t even come home last night, why is your phone turned off?

Do you want to somehow punish him for being cruel and make him worry?

He shakes his head confused and begins changing his clothes from the comfortable pyjamas to an appropriate enough outfit to go to the company.

It should be a crime to have to go so early in the morning anywhere on your day off.

When he’s done and he looks somewhat presentable, he picks his phone back up and dials your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called-’

He cancels the call just when he hears a knock on his door, and opening it, his manager is looking at him sombrely.

“Hi.” Chris speaks first, but his manager doesn’t say anything. He just pulls him into a hug that lasts way too long, Chan thinks.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.” He finally says after pulling away.

Chan doesn’t know what to reply, so he opts to just stay silent. His manager’s words don’t register in his head anyway; maybe he’s still tired.

He did go to sleep way too late.

They head to the car, and although the ride to the company only lasts 20 minutes or so, the 20 minutes feel like an eternity.

It’s just as his manager said, and everyone else is already at the company. When he sees the boys, they come rushing to him, their faces tear-stained and their clothes black.

“Oh, Chris…” Felix hugs him tightly and starts crying, and Chan starts comforting him by patting his back a few times.

A few tears escape past his eyes as well by seeing all the boys so gloomy, but he still doesn’t seem to be able to wrap his hand around it.

“Her parents said the wake is taking place at their house, so that’s where we’re headed now. I thought it’s better for you to not go alone.” His manager blurts out.

Chris looks dejected for a few seconds, before taking out his phone again and dialling the familiar number. This time, he types it himself. He knows it by heart.

With a shaky hand, he puts it against his ear and waits to connect.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

It makes no sense.

You couldn’t possibly… have died.

You are so young. You have so many plans and so many things you still want to do.

He is supposed to apologize to you and pamper you the whole day just to make up to you for being an asshole last night. He is supposed to take you to that restaurant you’ve been bugging him about for weeks.

You can’t possibly be gone, just like that.

Your parents embrace Chris as soon as he steps through the door. They’re sobbing loudly, and there are so many people present – some, he recognises: old friends from middle school you’ve shown him pictures of, some other colleagues from university, some coworkers he had the pleasure of meeting at the last Christmas party held by your company, a few family members…

There are also many people he doesn’t recognise; people your age, and Chan gets reminded once again of how young you are, with your whole life ahead.

He shakes his head once he notices a coffin on the large table in your parents’ living room; the same table you’ve both ate at just two weeks ago when you’ve last visited.

“My baby, Chris is here to see you.” Your mother cries, approaching the coffin and pulling his hand to guide him towards it as well.

It’s closed shut, and on top of it, your picture stares at him with a happy smile. You are so beautiful; he’s always loved this picture of yours. He’s the one who took it, just after you’ve graduated Uni and he handed you a big bouquet of your favourite flowers, rose peonies. You said your eyes wrinkled in a weird way, and never liked it, but he absolutely adored it. It’s been his wall screen ever since.

The coffin is made of dark polished mahogany, and its lid is adorned with golden handles.

You can’t possibly be in there.

Although beautiful, how could such a small coffin hold the large essence of your soul?

It makes no sense whatsoever.

Your parents’ cries seem real enough, though.

He touches the top of the coffin and wonders why it’s closed. Why would it be closed, when you are so gorgeous? People should see you, not a simple picture.

He decides it must be because you’re simply not in it. Or if you are hiding in there, maybe it’s all a joke and you’re going to open it from the inside and yell Surprise!, shocking everyone in the room and making your mother faint. It’s something you’d do.

So, he waits.

He waits, and waits, and waits, and his feet grow tired and his back starts aching after so many hours on his feet. People come and go, paying respects, patting his shoulders and trying to make some small talk, talking about you in past tense.

“She was such a wonderful person.”

“She was so full of life.”

“Her laugh was so intoxicating.”

“Her work ethic was admirable.”

“She was so smart.”

He listens and nods to each of their words. They are right. You are a smart, wonderful person, you are full of life, your laugh is the best thing he’s ever heard. He’s wished more often than not to record it and put it in one of his tracks, but every time he’d mentioned it, you called him silly.

By the time your father brings him a chair and places it next to the coffin so he can sit down instead of standing, it’s already night out.

“You should get some rest, Chris. I’ll stay with her.” He tells him, placing his strong hand on Chan’s shoulder as to attract his attention, but Chan just shakes his head.

How could he go sleep when you might decide any time to wake up?

Would you panic, with the lid closed and all? You’ve always been claustrophobic. Why is it closed, anyway?

It’s already morning when one of your relatives approaches Chris and urges him to get out of the living room to change his clothes.

They’ve brought him a white suit at the request of your father; wedding attire, since you didn’t get the chance to get married before you passed.

He is reluctant to put on the white pants and uncomfortable suit jacket, but he does it anyway. Your mother cries when she sees him, and your father pats his shoulder and thanks him for doing this.

The priest comes, and a lot of your friends visit your home again, to lead you on your last journey, apparently.

It takes the priest about half an hour to finish praying for your soul, and then your coffin is loaded in the back of a hearse. The car moves slow enough for everyone to be able to follow, and Chris is walking right behind it, next to your parents. Felix is behind him with Lee Know and Changbin, and the rest of the boys are somewhere far back. He sticks out like a sore thumb, dressed in all white while everyone else is wearing black.

Each time the car passes next to important places in your life, the hearse stops and people throw coins on the ground. They pass by your kindergarten and your old school, and with each step, your mother cries harder. Your father tries his best to stay composed, but even he bursts into tears when your mother starts talking about your life and what a happy kid you were.

Chris doesn’t shed a tear. He follows the hearse blindly, and when it reaches the cemetery, he watches as his members take out the coffin and place it on the ground next to a large, freshly dug hole.

The priest begins a final prayer, and soon enough, he watches how the coffin disappears inside the hole. People start throwing soil and flowers. He doesn’t know how a couple of roses get in his hands, but he begins throwing them one by one on top of the coffin that keeps getting lowered down.

You’ve never liked roses that much. You like peonies. Why did someone hand him roses?

There is also some music – hymns, or the sorts. Something you wouldn’t like. He doesn’t like it either.

A few moments later, some people begin covering the coffin in dirt, and he watches the scene expressionless. It gets covered fairly quickly. People start crying even harder, and his ears start ringing.

He feels sick to his stomach, so he decides to take a few steps back as soon as the whole gets filled to the brim with the freshly dug soil.

“I can’t believe she’s truly gone. She was so young!” He hears a woman say from somewhere behind him. He doesn’t bother turning his head to check if he knows her or not.

“Right? We were talking just yesterday morning at work about going shopping this weekend.” Another woman replies in a quiet tone.

“They didn’t even open the casket.”

“How could they? Didn’t you hear how she passed?”

“No! What even happened?”

“She was apparently crossing the road and a car came out of nowhere, hitting her with more than 200 km/h. It threw her like 30 metres in the air.”

“Oh my God! I heard it was a car accident, but this…”

“Yeah! It’s insane. There was barely anything left of her… only shattered bones and flesh, nothing resembling a human.”

“Shh, what if someone hears you say that?!” The other woman tried to silence the first one.

After hearing these details, Chris feels even sicker.

He wants to throw up.

“Son, we are going to the reception now. Do you want to come with us in our car?” Your father approaches him, and Chris simply nods.

He hugs him for a few seconds, and then they wait for your mother to come, and the ride to the restaurant is filled with her sobs while your father and Chan remain expressionless.

He sits at a table next to your parents. Felix is on his left, and the rest of the boys and other members of JYPE are sitting nearby.

There is an empty space to his right, and in front of it, the table is full of your favourite foods, snacks and drinks.

His eyes are stuck on that empty seat.

“Wow, they really brought me a lot.” You chuckle, looking at Chris with your head supported by your right hand, your elbow against the table. “How am I supposed to eat all of this?”

He watches the scene stunned.

“What’s wrong, baby? Why the long face?” You ask, the smile on your face wider, raising a hand to caress his cheek.

The next time Chris blinks, you’re gone.

The seat is empty.

The boys insist that Chan comes with them to the dorms, or that at least some of them come home with him.

“It’s not good to be alone.” Hyunjin says sympathetically, and Chris simply shakes his head.

What if you come back home tired and want to rest, but the boys are there visiting? He asks himself. It wouldn’t be fair to you.

So, he goes home alone, after much bargaining with them that he needs some time on his own.

The silence that greets him once he opens the door to your shared apartment is deafening.

He first goes to the bedroom to check if you’re back yet, but the sheets stay as empty as when he woke up two days ago, so he pulls out his phone to dial your number again.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

The beep sound follows soon after, and he begins talking.

“Babe, I know you’re mad at me. I was wrong. I’m sorry. It’s time to come back home now. Please?”

A second beep follows, signalling that the time to record his message is over, so he ends the call. He ignores the countless notifications piling up on his screen, all the Condolences messages he’s been receiving, and he places the phone in his pocket and starts making the bed.

“Wow, well done, Channie! I’m impressed!” He can almost hear you chuckling, and turns his head towards the door, fully expecting you to be there laughing at him and praising him for doing the bare minimum, but there’s no one there.

Once the bed is made, he heads towards the living room. A half empty glass of water is on the table, its margins stained by your lipstick, next to a plate full of breadcrumbs.

Tsk, how messy. He rolls his eyes, knowing exactly why you haven’t cleaned up. You must’ve eaten in a rush again, this bad habit of yours.

You’re always complaining about stomach aches, but you keep eating on the go while getting ready for work in the morning, and never enjoy your meals.

He takes a picture of the crime scene and opens his phone again, shooting you a text.

“Forgot to clean up?” He asks, then attaches the picture of the plate and glass.

He knows you’ll probably laugh and start excusing yourself once you see it. If he were to check his gallery, half the pictures are surely of the dirty plates you simply forget about on the table.

Chris always washes them, but never fails to remind you of it.

This time, too, he takes the plate and glass to the sink and turns on the hot water. He rubs the plate with a dish sponge with way too much dish soap on it, and he hears your voice in the back of his head again:

“My, Channie! You’re so wasteful! You only need a drop. A single drop!!! What are you using so much dish soap for???”

He starts laughing as he grabs the glass and throws the half-drunk water out, but before washing it, he notices the lipstick stains again. He smiles to himself and sets the glass aside, wiping it off with a napkin, careful to not accidentally remove the stain.

Your lips left such a pretty mark, he doesn’t want to part with it yet, even if you are going to give him an earful later for not washing the glass properly.

When there is nothing else to do around the house, he opens his laptop and starts sorting out his emails. All of their schedules for the month have been cancelled, and their upcoming comeback postponed indefinitely.

He doesn’t think it’s necessary, but at the end of the day, the company’s rules must be followed. You’ve complained about him working too much anyway. Maybe this is the chance for you two to spend a bit more time together.

All he has to do now is wait for you to come back.

He waits.

And waits.

And waits…

Felix visits with Jisung and Seungmin the next day.

And then the next, Jeongin comes with Changbin and Hyunjin.

Minho drops by every morning with enough food to last Chris the whole day.

His manager comes once a week and makes sure to call him daily.

Whenever he’s on the phone, he paces around the empty apartment and looks around. He sees the jewellery you left on the coffee table; your sports shoes are still on the doormat in front of the door, your face creams and serums stay untouched in the bathroom, your hairbrush lays by the sink filled with loose hair, and there’s a half-ironed shirt on the ironing table in the dressing.

You don’t like other people touching your stuff, so he leaves everything just like that, waiting for you to come back and fix it all.

The glass with your lipstick stain on it is still there on the counter, next to the sink.

He’s texted you about a dozen of times since he first messaged you about it and the plate that’s long been washed, but you haven’t replied to a single text. Your phone still goes directly to voicemail, but worst of all… no matter how much he’s waiting…

… you don’t come home, and the apartment stays empty.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right!’

‘Hello!’

---

Anger

---

It’s been more than a month, but Chris still sets the table for you each time he eats what Lee Know brings him.

He wouldn’t bother eating much, if Minho wouldn’t have insisted to tag along to practically every meal after he noticed that he’s barely touching the food.

He always places one more plate on the table, right in front of him, at your usual spot.

“Just in case she comes back and gets hungry.” He explains to Minho, but he’s had enough of this.

“Hyung…” Lee Know hesitates. “She… she’s not coming back. You know that, right?”

His tone is quiet, and he tries to approach the subject as gently as possible. However, it’s time for him to do something. You’ve died more than five weeks ago, but Chris hasn’t moved any of your belongings, not even to store them.

There’s a box of tampons on the kitchen counter, but he won’t even move that, for fuck’s sake. He keeps waiting for you to come home, as if he doesn’t realise the fact that you’ve passed away.

“No, she will.” Chris says firmly, daring Minho to challenge him more.

“Hyung… She… she died. She’s not coming back.”

“You’re wrong!” Chris shouts all of a sudden, hitting the table with his fist strong enough to make the tableware bounce. He knows Minho is right. After waiting for you for weeks on end without you coming back, after dialling your number about a million times, after sending countless texts with no reply from you… he knows. But…

“Chris…” Lee Know stares empathetically.

“You’re all wrong! She… she’s coming back, goddamit!” He shouts again, this time grabbing the table’s edges and flipping it. The empty plates fall to the ground and shatter in the process, and Minho’s pot spills on the carpet, staining it.

Chris tries to cling to the last bit of hope he has regarding you, but he knows you’re dead. Everyone else was right, and he was wrong. You’re really gone.

“I’m sorry, Hyung. You… you need some help…” Lee Know continues with a shake of his head, bending down to grab the broken pieces of glass.

When he’s done cleaning up the carpet and the floor to the best of his abilities, he takes one more look at Chan. He looks like a ticking bomb, ready to explode again any second now.

Lee Know doesn’t know if it would be good to give Chan space, or if he should insist again that he comes with him to the dorms.

He decides to ask him anyway, and to his surprise, Chris nods and packs a small bag with clothes and hangs it on his shoulder.

They made their way out to Lee Know’s car, and once they’re at the dorms, they say goodbye as each goes to their respective apartments. Chris used to live with 3RACHA and Hyunjin, so that’s where he’s headed.

The dorms are as messy as he remembers, but they bring him comfort nontheless. His old room brings him solace as well.

There are a few pictures or you on the small desk in his room, and he looks at them fondly. You’re smiling beautifully in all of them. It’s the you he remembers. You, at your first date; you, the first time he took you to an amusement park; you, when all your fingers were coated in chocolate after you attempted to bake him a cake.

It’s you.

God, how he misses you.

How dare you leave him alone?

How dare you?

Why didn’t you fucking look to the left before crossing the road? Even if the traffic light was green, you should’ve fucking looked.

You’ve always been careful to look, so why…?!

Watching the pictures no longer makes him happy. It makes him angry, and out of anger, he punches the wall behind the desk with all his strength.

It makes no sense, really, but the pain in his fist takes away from the pain in his heart, so he punches the wall again.

He decides to try and calm down after hitting the wall two more times, and he hops into his old bed, shutting his eyes tight and thinking about the night you died.

‘I’m really fucking done with how overbearing you’re being. I was doing fine before I met you, and I sure as hell do just fine without you over my head every fucking minute of the day.’

Those were some of the last words he’s said to you.

Since you’ve died a few blocks away from the JYPE building, it happened right after you left.

You died thinking he doesn’t love you.

You died thinking he doesn’t need you.

He does.

He needs you.

If only he’d gone home with you that night, as you asked him, you would’ve never died.

It’s his fault.

It’s his fault you’ve died.

He killed you.

He lashed out on you and blamed all his stress on your attempts to take care of him, and he killed you.

Fuck, it’s all his fault.

For the first time since the funeral, he bursts out in tears, and he is unable to stop. It’s like all of his repressed feelings for the past month and a half come biting him right in the ass.

It’s so hard to breathe. He’s getting suffocated.

He can’t.

He can’t breathe anymore.

You’re on top of him, suffocating him.

“You killed me.” You say, blood running down your face.

He can almost feel the drops hitting him, with your face so close to him.

“It’s your fault. “You knew what you were saying. You killed me.” You say again cruelly, and Chris shuts his eyes even tighter.

His cries soon turn to wails, and he’s being loud enough for Changbin to hear him and get alerted. He opens the door without knocking, and upon seeing Chris, his heart breaks.

He just goes to the bed and throws himself on top of Chris, as if to shelter him somehow from the intense grief he’s feeling.

When his cries quiet down, Changbin takes a look at his friend and sees his injuries.

“Holy fuck, your hand is bleeding. Are you okay?” He asks in panic, standing up quickly to grab the first aid kit to bandage his fist.

“It’s all my fucking fault!” Chris screams at the top of his lungs, and his destructive mood comes back. He stands up, wanting to destroy it all. Every damn picture, every fucking thing in this room.

He wants to set it on fire and let it it all to pieces, letting himself burn as well. It’s what he deserves for killing you.

Sure, the drunk driver that hit you was directly responsible for taking your life, but the way he acted that night… nothing would’ve happened if it weren’t for him.

He killed you.

Changbin sees right through his erratic behaviour and anticipates his moves, throwing himself once more at Chris, holding him tight and not letting him move, no matter how much Chris lashes out. He doesn’t let go until his friend calms down again, and even after he does, he decides to camp in the room with him and keep him company.

---

Bargaining

---

It’s been three months, and Chris still has some difficulties accepting that you’re truly gone.

He probably shouldn't be here so soon, but it’s like he has to make sure again that you’re… that you’re dead.

Your parents did a great job with your grave; your gravestone made of marble stands tall , centred right in front of the ground you’re buried deep within, and the intricate designs of sculpted vines and flowers reminds him of you.

Oh, right. Flowers.

Chris remembers he brought a bouquet of pink peonies with him. He’s been holding onto it tightly ever since he bought it and stepped in a taxi to come here, but as soon as he got to your grave, time stopped, he couldn’t breathe anymore, and he forgot about the flowers in his hands.

It’s not like you need any more; there are so many fresh flowers all over and around your grave. Your parents also planted lots on top of the soil above your coffin, decorating your rest place beautifully.

You’ve always said you wanted a garden, and now, you have one: your little space in the uncomfortably large cemetery at the edge of the city.

“My favourite flowers. Aren’t they pretty?” He swears he can hear your voice, and turning to his left side, his breath hitches in his throat, choking him.

There you are, holding the bouquet of pink peonies he bought with a large smile on your face, but just like last time, he blinks, and the bouquet is in his hands, as it’s been the whole time, and you’re nowhere in sight.

A tear rolls down Chan’s cheek. He wishes he would’ve bought you that house and garden you’ve been dreaming of, instead of the convenient apartment in the city centre.

He wishes he would’ve proposed, and that you’d build a little family together. After all, you were his solace in the midst of all the chaos of his life. The sole person bringing him purpose and comfort.

But now you’re gone.

He wishes he wouldn’t have always put his job first. Especially now, as his schedules stay empty due to the company fearing for his well-being, he realises how much free time he could’ve had if only – if only he’d listened to you.

He regrets all those late nights in the studio when he could’ve been home sleeping next to you.

He regrets every breakfast, lunch and dinner he’s missed because he was too busy with making a new song, learning a new dance, or preparing for a new comeback. Now, none of it matters. You’re gone.

He could’ve postponed all of them. He could’ve done so much differently, and he regrets it all.

You’re gone.

He places the peonies in a little vase near your gravestone, next to some daffodils someone must’ve brought you a few days ago.

Then, he raises his gaze and reads the inscription in the headstone’s marble. It’s your favourite poem by Clare Harner.

Good choice, he thinks, as he goes through the lines of Immortality and traces each engraved letter with his fingers.

‘Do not stand by my grave and weep

I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am the thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints in snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain,

I am the gentle, autumn rain.

As you awake with morning's hush,

I am the swift, up-flinging rush

Of quiet birds in circling flight.

I am the day transcending night.

Do not stand by my grave, and cry--

I am not there, I did not die.’

You stopped reciting the poem and took a deep breath, looking expectantly at Chan.

“Isn’t this poem beautiful?” You asked him, your eyes sparkling.

“A bit morbid, but yes.” Chris chuckled as he placed the freshly made pasta dish in a large plate and served you dinner.

“Aww, thank you. Smells so good!” You grinned in delight, your eyes closing into crescents, as they always did whenever you smiled brightly.

He couldn’t help but press a quick chaste kiss against your lips before he sat down as well.

“So, pasta master, show me how it’s done.” You encouraged him, nudging his elbow and handing him your fork and spoon.

“Tsk, you’re so spoiled.” Chris tutted jokingly, but complied nonetheless and started twirling the pasta with the fork. Once it became an appropriate bite-sized portion, he raised the fork and supported it with the spoon as he brought the food to your mouth.

“Mmmm, so good!” You exclaimed with a few quick, excited small claps, as soon as you started feeling the flavours.

“Of course, what were you expecting?” Chris chuckled.

“Only the best from you.” She praised, petting his head fondly. “So, about the poem. Do you think it’s good enough for my presentation?”

“For Uni? Yeah, of course. Anything you’d pick is good enough, babe. You have your way with words, and you recited it very beautifully.”

“You think?” You beamed at his words, and he nodded. “Thank you, Channie. I really really like it, but I was afraid it wasn’t appropriate.”

“No, it is. You can use it.”

“If the lyrical genius says so, it must be true.” You stood up briefly and kissed his cheek, before returning to your seat and starting eating the pasta.

God, how many years ago was that?

Chris bursts out crying for the millionth time this month, and grabs the headstone with both his hands, feeling his knees grow weak.

On the brink of collapse, he uses your gravestone for support as he weeps louder.

“Can’t you come back?” He asks, his voice shaking. “Please. Please come back. Please. I… I promise I’ll do better, hm? I promise I’ll no longer stay as late in the studio, so please… please…”

The headstone can’t support him enough when his hands go weak as well, and he falls to his knees right in front of the poem.

“If only – If only I’d left with you that night. If only we hadn’t fought. God… please, please come back. We still have to make up.”

He cries for what feels like hours, and his body grows cold.

“Please… please…” He forces out again. “Come back… come back… we have so much we want to do… come back… I need… I need more time with you, please. Please.”

And he cries again.

And again.

And again, until he feels a hand on his shoulder a while later, and he turns his head around hopeful, thinking you might’ve somehow heard his pleas and returned to him.

His expression falls as he sees Seungmin looking concerned at him, and then he frowns even more noticing the pathetic way he looks in his eyes’ reflection.

Seungmin falls to the ground next to Chan, hugging his side tightly. Then, he helps him stand up and balance on his feet.

Chris is grateful for Stray Kids being there for him, but he just wishes… it would’ve been you standing next to him instead of Seungmin.

---

Depression

---

Chris has never experienced such an intense fatigue before. Every part of his body hurts, and it’s like his muscles are screaming at him each time he stands up. He is lethargic and looks haggard and in desperate need of rest, but rest doesn’t come by too easily as of late.

It’s 5AM and he’s in the studio again, but instead of doing anything productive, like finishing up that song he’s started working on two months ago that he keeps beating himself up for, he watches how beautiful you looked in the picture on his desk.

You used to be so full of life and so gorgeous. Your smile could make anyone happy, and your laugh – God, how much he misses your laugh.

He misses your voice.

Sometimes, he can’t even remember what it sounds like, and he thinks it’s absurd; it hasn’t been that long since you passed. Only about a year. He shouldn’t forget it so soon.

He grabs his phone and manually types the digits to your number. He still hasn’t forgotten it, and with how deep it’s been ingrained in his memory, he doesn’t think he ever will.

‘Hello! You’ve called… wait, am I doing this correctly?

Yes. The beep-

Oh, right! Thanks for calling, please leave your message after the beep. Okay, bye~!’

He hasn’t cried in some time while thinking of you, but now, he’s on the verge of tears again. You used to sound so carefree.

You used to be so happy.

He doesn’t know when he started referring to you in past tense, but as soon as the realisation hits him, he lets a couple of tears stain his cheeks.

Chris is tired. He hasn’t slept in… God knows how many days. He’s always had trouble sleeping, but nowadays, his insomnia has been getting worse and worse. His doctor prescribed him some pills that are supposed to help, but he can’t even be bothered to take them anymore. They don’t help him rest anyway. If he takes them, he wakes up confused, disoriented, and with an even worse headache.

His phone is still in his hand and his finger brushes over his screen. He didn’t have the heart to change his lockscreen picture. It’s still you.

He hasn’t seen you in what feels like years. The first few months when he’d been haunted by your ghost were tough, but now that he hasn’t seen any glimpse of you in months, day to day life is getting harder and harder to navigate.

You don’t even visit him in his dreams anymore, on the seldom nights he sleeps. If he takes the small white pills, he doesn’t dream of anything, and he so desperately wants to see you again, to touch you, that he refuses to take them. That’s the other reason he doesn’t.

Fuck, this is hard.

Are you supposed to feel so devastated after a whole year?

Back then, years passed by so quickly – it meant comeback after comeback, work, work and more work, and time with you was scarce but very appreciated. Time used to fly, and without him knowing how much time passed, you’ve celebrated your 5th anniversary. He was planning to propose to you soon. He was looking at rings, but then you…

Time doesn’t pass by as quickly anymore. This year stretched for so long, it felt like a decade instead of barely 12 months. With each passing month, it was like nothing was changing at all for Chris, but now, looking back, everything feels different.

He’s a completely different person than the one that was staying in the studio up until 5 AM last year, and he blames himself so, so much for his unchanging bad habits.

He blames himself for your death still. It’s his fault, and this thought only makes him more hopeless and more depressed.

He’s lost weight. A lot of it, to the point where the company had to have an ‘intervention’. Whereas last year his body was toned, his abs perfectly sculpted and his form admirable, he now looks like a ghost of himself.

If he eats, his stomach immediately starts hurting. He threw up 3 times this week alone.

Your death still has such a big emotional toll on him, and he’s tried it all. He went to therapy. He still goes four times a week at his company’s requests. He’s on medication that makes him groggy and unable to think, medication that shut down all his feelings – not just the negative ones. He is numb, and when he isn’t, he feels utterly devastated and lost.

What is he supposed to do now, without you?

How come a year has already passed without you by his side? He’s even contradicting himself. Sometimes he feels that the year passed by slowly, and sometimes he looks back and doesn’t understand how he was able to live a whole year without you.

He needs you.

Fuck, he needs you so much, he still can’t believe he even insinuated that horrible night that he didn’t.

Life no longer has any purpose, and everyone around him is growing more concerned by the day, as this once optimistic man has left together with you, leaving in his place only a pessimistic, desperate person.

He realised how badly he wants to die exactly 6 months ago, when your sudden disappearance finally started sinking in for real. When he stopped bargaining with God or with whatever cruel higher power there might be in the sky to let you come back, even if just for 10 minutes, for enough time for him to kiss and hug you and tell you how much he’s missing you.

6 months ago, he started decorating his thighs with unsightly marks, some of them faded, other fresh. He can’t do it anywhere else, no matter how much he’d wished to cut his wrists open, for fear of anyone else noticing.

So, he takes his despair out on his poor thighs, pressing the small blade against his skin until he feels something, anything. Until blood starts pouring down and the shower’s water pools down at his feet completely red.

He winces in pain every time he does it, but at least he feels something different than the numbness that grows bigger and bigger in his heart, consuming everything in its way. His whole soul feels absorbed by it, crushed under the pressure.

On the rare occasions he’s not numb, he feels the immense grief your absence left. He now knows that you’ve not only taught him how to love, but also how it is to lose what you love, and it hurts. It’s excruciating, and his heart is being ripped apart still, each and every time he thinks of you, and your absence is tearing him apart from the inside out.

He is physically sick. His headaches are worse than ever. He can’t sleep. He can’t eat. He can’t do anything anymore. He doesn’t want to, either.

The only thing he wants is to die, but even this wish feels selfish. He sees the way his friends look at him, how they’re walking on eggshells around him, to not somehow mention anything that could trigger a bigger depressive episode than what he’s already going through. He only pushes through it because of them, because he knows how it feels to lose someone you truly love, and he doesn’t want them to have to live with this black hole in their chests.

But… the loneliness he feels is simply merciless. It’s pouring down on him like unyielding unforgiving rain, not showing him any pity, and so he tries to fills his days with something that would make him forget about the gap in his soul.

The company let him come back to work a while ago, but they didn’t plan any comeback for Stray Kids for the time being, nor are they planning any for the near future. He’s grateful they’re giving him time, because he’s in no shape or form ready to do anything, not when he’s withdrawn himself so much from everything he used to love.

It’s difficult to compose any up-beat songs, or any song, for that matter. It used to come naturally for him, but not anymore. Changbin and Jisung are doing their best to support him and make up for his lack of concentration, but it feels like he’s not bringing anything to the table anymore.

He’s missed practice over and over again. The Kids meet up every two days to dance to their older songs, and as they don’t have anything new to work with, they even started learning the dances of other popular songs, or creating choreographies that would fit western music. Chan never went. He stopped dancing 12 months ago, and he hasn’t even stepped in the practice room since you died, not even once.

He hasn’t sung since you died either, and no one said anything about it. No one blamed him at all. Not even his company, who he was sure was going to fire him in the first 6 months after your death.

They said they trust him, and that they’re going to give him as much time as he needs to recover. They talk about him like he’s sick, but he’s not sick. They don’t seem to understand that.

He’s not sick, he’s just devastated, and he doesn’t think he’s ever going to be able to live again, to sing and dance on stage and to work hard, because this is no longer his dream.

He only dreams of death, and the thoughts of it are the only ones bringing him any solace. His therapist said he needs more time, and he quoted Lois Tonkin more times than he can count. He said that life will soon begin to grow bigger around grief, and that the intense sadness he’s feeling is just another expression of love for you. One that is permanent, but that will diminish as time passes and as he starts enjoying life again.

He doesn’t believe any of it, though.

How could he begin to enjoy life again, with you not there by his side?

---

Acceptance

---

He met someone.

For the first time in years, he felt genuine happiness again.

It took him one more year to start reengaging in some of his older hobbies and in his work. He started gradually going to the gym with Changbin and Lee Know, and eventually felt ready to start dancing and singing again. Another year later, he was ready to get back on stage and face all his fans, who’ve thankfully shown an unwavering support of his journey with grief.

He started feeling a bit better, and even though you were on his mind all the time, he was no longer dwelling on the pain of the loss of you. Your memory started bringing him more happiness, and he started looking fondly at all the sweet moments you’ve both shared together.

He started appreciating being able to have met you, to have lived 5 beautiful years next to you, and even though he still feels it is unfair that you’ve been taken away from him so cruelly and way too early, he no longer blames himself.

He still regrets the argument you had on the night you passed away, but he started slowly coming to terms with the fact that there was nothing he could do about it anymore, no way to take his words back. He started accepting that this is the one regret he’s going to have to take to his grave with him.

It took him one more year to start embracing life again, to start looking forward to his future with Stray Kids and to start actively making plans. He realised there was so much more he wanted to accomplish, and his dreams started coming back to him little by little, with the support of his friends and family.

He’s met her two years later.

When it happened, he was still not ready to give love a second chance. He thought it was way too soon, that he was disrespecting you by catching feelings for someone else. He felt like he was emotionally cheating on you.

He decided it’s time to join a support group at the recommendation of his friend, and he’s met a lot of people of all ages: some younger than him, some way older. The way they spoke about their former partners warmed up his heart, and they made him realise that loving again is not an affront to your memory. He can still keep loving you while loving someone else as well. He can still honour your memory.

He opened up to her, and he’s told her all about you. She wanted to know who you were, and she even visited your grave with him, holding his hand and talking to you at your gravestone. She told you she loves him and thanked you for being there for him while you were still alive, for giving him precious memories to hold onto.

She apologized for life being so unfair and taking you away from Chris so abruptly, and she assured you she’s going to take care of him to the best of her abilities.

She was really patient with him. She gave him as much time as he needed to come to terms with his feelings. He let him set the pace on what he was comfortable with doing. The first time they slept together was after more than one year of dating, but she didn’t mind waiting for as long as he felt necessary.

She loved him, and he loved her.

He proposed to her almost two years later, and they welcomed a child one year after their wedding.

He visited your grave on your 10th death anniversary with his son in his stroller, a baby boy he’s given your favourite name. You were still present in his thoughts, and his love for you never subsided.

He now simply has additional people to love and to grow old with, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t miss you still.

He decided to visit your grave again, even if walking has become a bit too difficult. Still, he manages the way from the car until your grave just fine, even if he has to support himself with a crane.

He is now old enough to be called ‘grandpa’, and not just as a joke between him and his friends. His hands are shaking, and his legs are a bit wobbly; his face is adorned with deep lines and creases, his forehead is wrinkly, and each fine line contributes to his now years-long life and experiences. The skin dropped around his cheeks, but every lady in the nursing home assures him he’s still a handsome man.

Your grave is no longer as tidy and beautifully adorned with fresh flowers. The soil has been overtaken by weeds and is in dear need of cleansing. He hasn’t visited in a while, unfortunately, his health issues making it a tad too hard, and with your parents long gone, there is no one else to take care of your resting place.

He makes a mental note to hire someone to clean it up and plant some flowers, but for the time being, he simply sets the bouquet of rose peonies in the small, chipped vase next to your headstone.

The inscription in the once immaculate marble is no longer as visible, but he doesn’t need to read it in order to recognise Immortality by Clare Harner. He still remembers the poem by heart, and also all sorts of other small, insignificant things, like your old phone number that’s been disconnected decades ago.

He looks at your smiling picture, the one he took when you’ve just graduated from university, and he realises as if for the first time how young you were.

He’s grown old; he has multiple wrinkles, his skin sagged everywhere, and his body went through each transformation it was supposed to when advancing in years.

But you?

You’ve stayed young. You’ve stayed beautiful, cheerful, smiling. Your face stayed clear of any creases.

You’ve remained just as he remembers you.

You are immortal.

“I’m sorry for not coming in a while.” He speaks with a soft smile on his face.

“That’s fine. You are probably very tired.”

He swears he could hear your voice. Maybe the poem is right, and the whispers of the wind transform in your saccharine voice he’s so dearly missed.

“I’m truly sorry for what I’ve said.” He continues, feeling the need to apologize again for his harsh words that night. No matter how many years have passed and how many time he’s already apologised, he’s never forgiven himself.

“But I’ve forgiven you long ago.” The wind whispers, and he closes his eyes and nods his head.

“I still love you. I’ve never stopped loving you. I hope you know that.”

“I know.” The sunlight caresses his back, warming him up as the wind strengthens. “And I’m waiting for you, whenever you’re ready to meet me, my love.”

~The End~

---

(A/N) Obligatory song: 11 minutes by Halsey and YUNGBLUD.

youtube

When my best friend showed me this song, I immediately fell in love with the concept of the music video, that’s based on the five stages of grief. I thought to myself that I simply must write a story like this, but of course, that was months ago and I’ve completely forgotten about it, as I usually do with most random ideas that come to mind that I don’t write down lol.

I couldn’t really sleep for the past few nights, so my mind kept brewing ideas and scenarios to keep me busy and hopefully lull me to sleep.

It didn’t work, because the five stages of grief came to mind and I knew I had to immediately write a story about it and not let the idea go this time, so I got out of bed at like 6:30 am and wrote and wrote on and off for a total of 13 hours, until this 10k words of pure despair have been created.

I hope you enjoyed it even though it probably sent you spiralling into depression. Thank you for reading nonetheless!

Love,

Storm

---

Alternative Ending

---

Chris's head is pounding with pain as he opens his eyes and realises that the place looks eerily familiar.

His neck starts hurting the moment he sits up in his chair, but he doesn’t pay the pain much mind, as he is more confused than ever. He recognises the place as his old studio back when he was still working at JYPE. How many years ago was that? Way too many.

The confusion only intensifies when he looks at his hands and sees them devoid of any wrinkles and dark spots, and he immediately gets alerted. He pinches his skin, as if to see if it would hurt, and the pain comes immediately. If this is a dream, it’s a way too realistic one.

He sees his phone lying on the table and stretches to grab it, and once he unlocks it, the picture of you, his favourite, is staring back at him. He swears he was at the cemetery and saw this exact picture on your gravestone just the other day.

The next wave of confusion comes when he notices the date and time. It’s way past 12PM, and the date is your death anniversary, the same year you passed. Only this time around, his phone is not flooding with notifications. The only unread messages are from you, and you seem worried.

“I can’t believe you didn’t come home last night. Do you really want to break up?”

He shoots up the moment he reads it and stops overthinking, dialling your number instead. If this is really a dream, he’s happy he gets to see you one last time.

“Yes.” You answer, your tone slightly annoyed.

“Babe.” His eyes swell up with tears when he hears your voice.

“What?”

“I love you.” He bursts into crying. “I love you. I’m so, so sorry for what I’ve said last night. I need you more than anything. Where are you? At home?”

“Wow, I was expecting you to apologise, but…” You chuckle briefly. “Yes. Are you coming for lunch?”

“Yeah.” He wipes his tears. “I’m coming. Please wait for me.”

“Of course. Love you.”

“Love you.”

Chris has never run as fast to his car before. He barely sees the roads and even if it’s been decades, he still remembers the drive between your shared former apartment and the studio. He gets back home in 10 minutes, a record, as the drive usually takes him 20 at least.

He types in your old passcode, and as the door opens, you’re there.

You’re there.

He can’t believe it.

You’re there, alive, and breathing. There are no empty plates and half-drunk glasses of water stained by your lipstick on the table. He looks at the sink, and they’re currently drying. You’ve washed them.

There is no box of tampons on the counter, no jewellery on the coffee table. Your hairbrush is clean, your face serums rearranged. The bed is made.

You’ve cleaned up.

“Hey, you okay?” You ask after you follow him erratically moving from room to room.

“I’m… oh, God. Baby, come here.” He comes and hugs you tightly, starting to cry again.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You frown, a bit taken aback by his behaviour. Sure, you’ve fought, but still.

“How… how did you get home last night?”

“Well, initially I was super upset and wanted to walk back home to clear my mind, but I saw a cab in front of the building and the driver called my name, so I assumed you ordered me one. Didn’t you?”

“I… oh, my God. I can’t believe this.” Chris cries even harder, hugging you tighter, until you eventually pull back, truly concerned.

He starts kissing you, apologising over and over and over, and he’s never felt more grateful.

You’re alive. He’s been given a second chance.

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