#and wait to be told something-anything-that justifies that my fear is rational
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cw: rant, don't read if you're religious and easily offended
The older I get, the more I'm fascinated and avidly repulsed by religion.
I'm fascinated with the fact that so many people view religious texts as the objective truth. They don't even question it, it just is what it is. A virgin gave birth, a man made everything and is watching us all the time and knows everything about us and has a plan for us, a man turned water to wine and cured blindness and came back from the dead, another man parted the sea, etc. Somehow mermaids and vampires aren't believable.
I'm fascinated with the fact that religion holds so much power. It's put its hand on politics, education, healthcare. It dictates things it never should've. It's spoken of as a personal choice and belief which is to be respected and yet it's an all around force involved in things it should've stayed out of.
I'm fascinated with the fact that we never outgrew it, never evolved past it. It's such a backwards and rigid thing that I honestly can't believe we haven't left it behind. I can imagine centuries and centuries ago people needed to be told killing was bad because you will die and burn forever but how does that apply to this day and age? Shouldn't it be the most reasonable thing that our actions be controlled by morals, guilt, rationality, law, etc. If someone has to threaten you with eternal damnation in order for you to be good, than how good are you?
I'm repulsed by the mindlessness of it. It reads as nothing but mass control and simultaneously giving up control. It reads as controlling mindless masses who need to blindly follow something and never question it. I believe "the Lord is my shepherd" is very much on point. It reads as avoiding taking accountability. It reads as avoiding the fact that our lives are in our control. We have no inherent purpose and no one but us is guiding our lives. Our actions have direct consequences. God didn't save that person's life, it was the surgeon who performed the surgery for fifteen fucking hours. We are conscious creatures and we should be exercising critical thinking and not giving up control of our lives because "someone has a plan for us and all will be as he has imagined it".
I'm repulsed by the fact that it's spoken of as something that revolves around loving and forgiving and yet fear is at the center of it. We should believe in God because if we don't we are forever doomed? Religion gives you permission to meddle in other people's lives an question them and judge them? Religion gives you permission to look at a person with piercings/tattoos/skull accessories/black eyeshadow and feel free to tell them they will burn in hell? Religion gives you permission to look at two people who love each other in a way your beliefs don't align with and tell them they will be eternally punished for it?
I'm repulsed by the fact that it's based on lies and a superiority complex. Religion is apparently virtue and purity and mercy and yet it's caused and justified more suffering than anything else in the world. Religion painted women as silent servants in servitude of men and for the obvious reason men liked that and used it as much as possible and they still do. Countless women were burned for being "witches", people were tortured so they would accept a religion, countless other crimes were committed because it was "in the Lord's name".
I'm repulsed by the fact that nothing stands in the face of delusion. Religion is seen as the objective truth and whoever doesn't believe it is wrong, in denial, lost, has to be saved, waiting for God to be speak to them, etc.
I'm fascinated by the fact that the world is led by a cult and no one wants to admit it.
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of course she thought about it. it was all she thought about, but when she got back, her father seemed more suspicious than ever, like he knew what happened out there, like he was just waiting for her to slip up. even when he wasn't home, mikayla could feel his eyes on her, like she couldn't escape — and maybe that was just her own anxiety, because surely he couldn't know every move she made, but risking it would be risking tai's safety, too, and she couldn't bring herself to do that. the safest option was to act like none of them meant anything to her, because it gave him no reason to look any further into it.
“ he almost fucking blinded me for kissing a girl — what the fuck do you think he would have done if he knew about you? ” her tone is incredulous, because she shouldn't have to remind her of that, not when the proof is carved into her face for the rest of her life, when mikayla told her about it. “ he was fucking crazy. he searched my room. he checked the phone bills. i couldn't fucking do anything with him around. he would've fucking killed me — and he might've done something to you, too. you think i'd do anything to risk that happening? ” everything they'd done out there had been to protect each other, and mikayla felt like she was still doing that when she got back by ignoring her, pretending like she didn't exist, finding nothing out about her, like she was terrified of anyone letting her father know she even dared to ask.
her vision goes blurry with tears again, angry that she even needs to explain herself, that she has to justify something that was entirely her father's fault, not hers. “ don't fucking blame me. i wasn't like you. i didn't get to go home and be safe. i didn't get to grow up with a dad who gave a shit about me — i got fucking him. that's not my fault. ” maybe she'd been a little too paranoid, maybe she could have reached out somehow, but the fear was suffocating, and any time she even considered doing anything to let tai know she would come back, that she still wanted her, all she could remember was every horrible thing her father had ever done to her, and how all of it would pale in comparison to what he would do if he knew she was in love with another girl. “ fuck you, you know i never changed my fucking mind. i wanted you the second i saw you. you know that. ”
somehow, it doesn't help, learning that tai does think about her, just as much as she does — because mikayla knows what that's like, being unable to escape the thought of her no matter how much she tries, finding reminders of her in everything, somehow. it doesn't help, it only irritates her more instead, because if any of that's true, why didn't she do anything about it? mikayla can't even recall the amount of times she'd dialed tai's phone number after misty had given it to her the night she picked her up, never pressing call, because what if someone else answered? — a fear that turned out to be valid, because it could have been her who picked up instead, the other one, who's name mikayla doesn't even want to learn.
she's more annoyed that tai has a point, that mikayla had to be the one to do all those things first, because she was the one that made it difficult to get anywhere in the first place — another thing she feels shouldn't be entirely blamed on her, not when her fear was rational, given what she grew up with. “ you knew why i had to. ” that's her only defense, which is weak, but tai's right, and she can't let herself admit that, not now.
“ yeah, i'd rather be dead half the time, honestly. ” she knows why tai doesn't want to hear it, but it's the truth, as pathetic as it sounds. “ you think i'm grateful to be alive? i had to rot in a stupid cell, come back to fucking nobody, and spend every single day since knowing that the person i love doesn't care enough to find me. ” mikayla's talking too fast to even pay attention to the fact she's still talking in present tense, that she's admitting the love she had for her never died, but maybe it doesn't matter, because it should be obvious; she wouldn't have come all this way over something she no longer felt. “ i'm fucking miserable, while you've been out here playing house the whole fucking time. ”
i moved on. mikayla's no stranger to pain, far from it, but she doesn't think anything's hurt as badly as hearing that — everything she's had to endure her entire life, from each scar her father had ever given her to everything that happened out in the wilderness, none of it made her ache as much as this. her ears start ringing, her chest, throat and jaw burning, and she almost feels physically sick, stomach turning. she almost wants to leave, like all the fight is drained out of her from just three words, but the thought makes her angry again. and she's grateful for that anger, because it's the only thing she's had over the years, the thing that stuck by her even when taissa didn't. “ how? how? how the fuck did you move on, because i fucking can't. i wake up and i see you, i go to bed and i see you, i fuck anyone and i see you — you won't fucking leave me alone, no matter what the fuck i do. i have to live like that for the rest of my fucking life. i can't fucking move on. i've tried. ”
as angry as she is, seeing tai cry breaks her, because even behind all the hurt and resentment, mikayla still loves her. it still feels natural for her to want to comfort her, pull her into her arms and apologize for doing anything to hurt her, even if it was all intentional only moments before. she almost does, but with how close they already are, she knows it would be a mistake, that touching her would only lead to kissing her, and that's not fair for either of them. most of mikayla's questions go unanswered, but she can't find it in her to repeat them, because she's starting to understand why taissa loves her instead of mikayla — because she doesn't have to look at whoever the fuck she is and remember everything they did out there, the way she would with mikayla.
mikayla's only ever going to be a reminder of what happened, so it doesn't matter how much they used to love each other.
“ you don't love me anymore. ” her voice is softer now, not just because it's grown hoarse from yelling, but because she's no longer arguing — she says it broken, mostly to herself, like she needs to hear it out loud to finally accept it. for the first time tonight, she regrets coming, because she understands why she let herself be delusional for so long, convincing herself that they still had a chance, somehow, someday — because now that that thought's gone, and she's left with this crushing hopelessness instead, she has nothing left. mikayla moves back, her chest deflated, like that might help her breathe. it doesn't. “ i still love you. i'm sorry it's not enough. ” she chokes back a sob, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. “ i shouldn't have come. ”
mikayla’s right, and tai can’t even blame her for defending herself the way she does, she just hates when someone seems to have more control over the situation — and right now, that feels like mikayla, even though it probably should be tai, considering her own situation. she’s engaged, so really, there’s no reason to keep entertaining all of this —- it could be so easy to politely tell her that everything between them, while important and forever something she’ll cherish, is over. but there’s a reason that tai doesn’t want it to be that simple, because that would only mean saying goodbye for good — and that was easier when mikayla was out of sight, out of mind. but it’s impossible now.
❝ and what about before you went in? did you ever even think to find my number? ❞ she understood why mikayla was scared to be with her, why she thought she couldn’t be, but didn’t she consider ever actually reaching out at all? ❝ you know i couldn’t do the same, ❞ she insists, her voice slightly calmer, because she doesn’t resent mikayla for the fact that her father might’ve answered; tai couldn’t go there, she couldn’t call her, it was safer to keep her own distance and let mikayla come to her. there’s no excuse for any of that once her father was gone, though, and she knows that too.
she should be better at fighting, considering what she’s been studying the last few years and the career she’s about to embark on —- but so much of what mikayla is telling her now just makes her freeze up, and she comes up short. it’s harder to defend herself and her own feelings, especially when most of the things she’s done in her life recently ( including marriage ) has less to do with feelings and more to do with having a plan. this is the lifestyle she always wanted for herself, to be the person who had a plan and stuck to it, always moving forward, never letting anything hold her back. that’s not the girl mikayla was with in the wilderness, because it’s not who tai could be there, not entirely. so why should she believe mikayla would want this version of her, too?
she rolls her eyes, groaning back at her. ❝ me? i wanted to. i told you i wanted to make it work. ❞ of course, the things they told each other in the wilderness are different than what their intentions could be out of it, and why should mikayla believe it was all still true? they rarely let themselves talk about life after rescue, anyway, because it was too hard to keep holding onto hope that they’d ever really get the chance, but in those brief moments that they did— tai imagined mikayla wrapped in one of tai’s howard sweatshirts, asleep peacefully in her dorm room bed while tai stayed up to study, her presence a welcoming support just on its own. she imagined her second year of college — leaving the dorms, getting an apartment with mikayla, providing a home for her that could actually feel like one that wasn’t tainted by the presence of her father or wasn’t musty like the attic in the wilderness. she envisioned a life with mikayla—- but that was out there, and maybe there was always a part of her that knew it wasn’t ever going to work out that way. ❝ but you gave me nothing when we got back. i didn’t think you wanted it anymore. it wouldn’t be the first time you changed your mind, ❞ she mutters, even if that’s certainly not fair.
❝ fuck you! ❞ she’s quick to shoot back, her jaw clenching with anger, because her only defense is something she doesn’t actually want to reveal, but it slips out before she can stop herself or think better of it. ❝ of course i remember you exist! how the fuck could i forget it? every time i try to forget, you’re right there, in my damn head, you never fucking leave it, you never leave it! ❞ she says, like she’s accusing her of something that mikayla can’t even control, but that’s how it feels. it feels like mikayla’s doing something on purpose, always in her head, taunting her. why won’t she leave her alone? why won’t tai let her go?
hearing mikayla call her a coward makes her even angrier, because she remembers telling her the same thing many years ago, and she’d felt vindicated in a way, watching mikayla’s face change. yet now here she is, on the other side, knowing that maybe, mikayla is right. maybe she is a coward. but it doesn’t feel fair, considering why she didn’t do any of that first. ❝ right. that’s how a relationship works. you reject me, tell me i don’t mean shit to you, tell me our kiss was just a mistake, and i’m supposed to chase after you like i’m that pathetic? ❞ that’s not how it felt, it was more about being respectful, but that’s how mikayla is making her feel now. ❝ i had to wait for you. i had to follow your lead. i had to make sure you were okay. ❞ she’s angry, but her tone lightens just slightly, because she still cares too much to be disrespectful about that part of their relationship — when she tried so hard to be so careful, to let mikayla go at her own pace until they were both ready. for someone who claims she doesn’t remember much about the wilderness, every second spent with mikayla is so burned into her brain —- which is why it’s only harder, hearing mikayla assume it meant nothing.
she can’t keep looking at her, not when she talks about dying. her head jolts away, eyes looking at the ground as her jaw tightens farther, eyes closing because she can’t bear the thought even still. she did horrible things in the name of surivival—- and she did horrible things in the name of mikayla’s survival, too. she fought, she killed, she did everything she could do to make sure mikayla got out of there alive, things she’s disgusted with herself for now but doesn’t regret, because at least she’s here — and mikayla didn’t want that? ❝ after everything we did for each other, that’s your takeaway? you’d rather have died? no, fuck that, i’m not listening to that bullshit. ❞ there’s a part of her that believes her, which makes it so much worse, but if mikayla really wanted to die— it means so much of what tai has done was for nothing, and she can’t accept that.
mikayla’s closer now, and they may not be touching, but tai can feel her all over her body. she can feel her hands trailing over her legs, her lips ghosting her skin, the way their bodies always laid so comfortably intertwined, keeping each other warm when nothing else could — and acting as their own personal shields, protecting each other from everything else. it sends a shiver through her body to think about it, way too noticeable now as she lets her gaze just barely trail down her features before she’s quick to look her back in the eye. she has to answer her questions, but how is she supposed to think about her when mikayla is this close? was that her plan?
she wants to sprint out of the room, not just to avoid her questions, but to find a way to collect her composure. now she remembers why mikayla had been such a frustrating teammate —- because she gave no mercy, yet she was so fun to fight back then. there’s irony in the way this tension feels so familiar — both times, they couldn’t have each other. and yet . . .
❝ grow up, mikayla, ❞ she mumbles, because her words feel so high school — not that she even really remembers what that’s like. ❝ i moved on. that doesn’t mean i’m replacing you. i just grew up, ❞ she emphasizes, but she wonders if she’s right. she never looked at simone as some kind of replacement, but maybe that’s what this is — maybe tai was desperate to feel something for someone else that she took the first chance she could get, convinced herself she fell in love, ignored the way it didn’t feel the same because things were different, so love was supposed to feel different too.
the mention of kids makes tai shudder, mostly because that’s something she’s already dreading— the day that simone eventually brings them up, and how could she admit that she barely wanted to get married, let alone have kids? she’s only doing what she believes she’s supposed to do. this is ‘normal.’ she wants a normal life. so why can’t she just let herself be happy with it? the answers to mikayla’s questions are simple —- i want to be in love with her, it’s supposed to be me and her, i’m supposed to marry her, and no, i can’t forget anything with you ever happened. the rest are much more difficult for her to even process, though. mostly, because she doesn’t know what love is without mikayla, she doesn’t know how to get that with anyone else. she’s beautiful, of course she is, and she’s perfect in every way, but tai’s attraction is so surface-level. she doesn’t touch her with the same feral energy she and mikayla grew accustom to in the wilderness, not even with the softness they found to contrast their surroundings, too.
she huffs, because as much as she should just do what she’s supposed to — tell her that it’s over between the two of them, she’s moved on, and it’s final — surely, mikayla still knows when she’s lying. and it’s starting to hurt even more as she realizes what she’s really doing to simone, how mikayla’s taunting is getting into her head enough to understand that simone doesn’t deserve any of this.
more tears fall from her eyes, and she’s quick to bring her hands up, rubbing at her eyes and hiding her face for a brief moment before she brings her hands back down quickly again and quickly responds. ❝ she’s better than both of us! ❞ she shouts, and she’s crying now, her body shaking just as mikayla’s is. ❝ she’s—- she’s good. she’s not fucking . . . ruined by all the shit we had to do. ❞ her voice is full of desperation, but it’s the truth. tai latched onto her comfortably because she couldn’t possibly be more different than mikayla or anyone else she survived out there with. it was like tai could take some of that goodness and wash it over herself, pretend that she’s just as good as simone, too — pretend that there wasn’t blood on her hands. she is full of shame, and it’s written all over her face —- shame for the things they were forced to do out there, shame for the things they wanted to do, shame for the way she hasn’t succeeded in letting it go, shame for the way she’s treated an innocent woman in the process, and shame for the way she’s standing here now, seemingly helpless in front of the love of her life, and she wishes mikayla never came here. she wishes mikayla just left her alone to her world of pretend.
#ladyintree#ladyintree: 14.#thread.#i love when mikayla's just completely wrong#abuse /#homophobia /#main.
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My thoughts on Clementine’s story in the “Skybound X” Comic
Okay, so before I jump into my opinion piece on the comic, I’m going to give a little explanation and break down of the issue, for all of you confused as to why everyone’s talking about this story.
What is it?
A while ago, Skybound announced that they would be continuing Clementine’s story via comic. It is supposed to be a trilogy taken place in the same universe as both the game and TWD comic series (with Rick Grimes). It is intended to be a continuation of The Final Season.
Why is everyone yelling about it?
Back when the comic was first announced, the reception was mixed with some people excited to see Clementine again, some who expressed scepticism on how Skybound would treat our beloved characters (and the ending of TFS which seemed like a perfect end note to Clem’s journey and arc) and wanted nothing to do with it, and some who were “cautiously optimistic” - shall we say, to what a sequel comic would entail for Clementine.
How would Skybound handle the choices? does this mean half of the playthroughs will no longer be canon? how can you even continue Clem’s story at this point without messing with the characterization or the playthroughs?
Well, the comic finally released and people read it and...yeah, our hesitance was justified.
So, it’s impossible to describe this comic without spoilers, so for anyone who wishes to read the comic themselves and form their own opinion beforehand - do not read below this cut as I will be going through the entire comic plot. You’ve been warned!
The Story
So, the story starts off early in the morning, with Clementine gearing up to leave the school.
We follow her as she leaves the school grounds (alone), goes to the hut to pack supplies and finds a map. She hears a noise outside, which turns out to be a walker so she leaves the hut and kills it. Then goes back to looking at the map.
So far, so good right? like it seems odd that Clementine’s leaving the school in crutches alone with no back up, but hey, maybe she’s just trying to regain some independence and get in some early morning hunting for the group or something, right?
Well this is when shit starts to go South...
Clementine hears another noise, and thinking it’s a walker she opens the hut door wielding a knife, only for it to be AJ.
(Also I think it’s been a couple of years since TFS, because AJ’s looking pretty tall for a 5 year old and apparently they’ve got new settlements to trade with).
It turns out, that Clementine was planning on ditching the school and setting off on her own. Without even a single goodbye or bothering to tell anyone about it. AJ is rightfully confused by this (fucking same, little buddy). And it leads to this exchange:
Yup. So Clementine, not only was planning on ditching her new family and home, but she was also going to leave AJ without a single goodbye and just vanish from his life. Breaking any promises or teachings she told him from their time spent together.
And you know what the worst part is?
She’s doing it because she’s “not happy” (and no, she doesn’t elaborate on this, we’re just supposed to accept it). AJ just tries in earnest to convince her to stay and that he can make her happy and all Clem says is “you can’t”.
If I were to analyse this short scene, I would say that perhaps it’s an internal war Clem’s got going on in her head, where there IS no rational reason for her leaving, but rather it’s something mentally that she can’t get over (possibly depression) and she feels like she has to leave to deal with it better. Honestly, in any other story this would be an incredibly interesting character complexity to witness.
BUT
The issue here is that it does NOT at all match Clem’s characterization from the game.
Clem was happy with the school. All she ever wanted in her life was for somewhere safe to call home and spend the rest of her days without constant fear and having to be on the move. She wanted to belong somewhere after losing Lee and her family.
Clem’s character has never been about this badass who’s always on the move for thrills or looking for adventure or excitement. Does it happen to her? yes. But her character has always wanted to settle down somewhere with people and to have a family. She’s a homebody at heart, and the ending of TFS even plays with this by having her be the leader (which is what the series was building her up for) who strategizes and sends other people out while she stays in the middle of it all. The reason that ep4 was so beautiful was it came full circle with Season 1 in that Clementine can finally rest and LIVE her life now, without fear of being on the run or having to feel alone anymore, knowing everyone around her is safe and happy.
You mean to tell me, that Clementine would risk her life to save a community of people and protect “a home” only to up and abandon it because “idk it’s not for me” - fucking bullshit, Skybound. Clementine loves the Ericson kids and AJ, even if she didn’t form a romance with Louis or Violet. Those people meant something to her, and even if she did feel like it was safe to leave them, she wouldn’t. Because she enjoys being with them and loves them.
Clem did not go through hell for these people and spend years hunting down AJ only to up and ditch them - WITHOUT EVEN A GOODBYE, mind you.
She has plenty of opportunities to leave them, and she didn’t. Not even when there was a risk to her life.
Also, the best part about this? after Clem gives us her pity me tears, a walker sneaks up behind her and AJ shoots it before it gets her.
It’s supposed to represent how well Clem has taught him throughout the years, but I find it hilarious because we’re now supposed to be okay with Clem venturing out on her own after almost getting chomped (again).
AJ finally accepts her decisions and runs back to the school, while the final shot is of Clementine walking into the horizon.
Final Thoughts
Honestly, the fact that even the writer of this comic couldn’t even bother giving Clementine a reason beyond that vague “I’m not happy” statement is a slap in the face itself, and just goes to show that even they don’t fully believe in the plot of the story either and it’s purely being used as a means to cash in on a Clementine spin off without having the other characters there and the potential backlash of referencing the game choices.
Oh it was something special, all right. It’s like an angst fanfic.
HOW on earth is this comic staying “true to Clementine’s journey”? did you even play the games, Skybound? because besides a few quirky buzzwords like “still not bitten”, I don’t think you understand the story of TWDG or Clementine’s “journey” at all.
Not only was this comic unnecessary, but I’m confident that even the writers of TFS never believed this to be an outcome for Clementine either give how often they spoke about ep4 as being the conclusion to her story and her arc being “finding a home and what it means to protect one”.
With all that said, please don’t send hate to Tillie Walden. If anything, it’s Skybound themselves that should be scrutinised for greenlighting this script and thinking it was an appropriate sequel for the game (if it even needed one).
(Also apparently adventurer Clem is no longer tying her hair up anymore and is growing it out, which makes 0 sense when she’s out exploring).
In Conclusion
This short comic was a hot mess, but we’ve got 2 more to go.
The only way I can see this comic being salvaged is if they pull off the cliché storyline of Clementine realizing she was wrong and that the school IS her home and where she wants to be, so returns back to Ericson’s in the end.
But that would be both pointless and still make this entire intro nonsensical, so I guess we’ll just need to wait and see.
I’ve honestly no clue how Clementine is expecting to find something better out in the world for herself that makes her happy, when she herself knows how rare it is to find a home like that in the apocalypse and how dangerous it is elsewhere.
#twdg#twdg comic#skybound x#twdg clementine#twdg aj#telltalegames#twdg tfs#the walking dead game#analysis#thoughts
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𝑀𝑎𝑓𝑖𝑎-𝑌𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑒𝑟𝑒! 𝐴𝑡𝑒𝑒𝑧: 𝑇ℎ𝑒𝑖𝑟 𝑊𝑖𝑓𝑒 𝑊𝑎𝑛𝑡𝑠 𝐴 𝐷𝑖𝑣𝑜𝑟𝑐𝑒
Disclaimer: In no way am I condoning, justifying, encouraging, promoting, nor romanticizing yandere or mafia behavior or lifestyle. This is all a work of fiction and not meant to represent real life scenarios.
Warnings: This reaction contains scenes of violence, blood, death, and other material that might not be suitable for some people. Reader discretion advised.
❧𝓚𝓲𝓶 𝓗𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓳𝓸𝓸𝓷𝓰
The fact Hongjoong seemed completely unfazed by you throwing the stack of papers on his desk was starting to frighten you.
"Aren't you going to look over them?" You asked him when he made no move nor any sound.
Hongjoong hummed softly before taking the packet and merely flipping the pages.
"I'm not going to ..... if you want me to sign over the papers, I'll gladly do it right now."
Now he was terrifying you. There was no way he was going to give in that easily.
You knew him too well.
Hongjoong smirked when he saw your suspicious look.
"Just get it over with so I can leave. It's almost time to pick up our son."
"Actually honey........ you won't find him there." He said as he picked up the ballpoint pen next to him.
Your head snapped up at him.
"What? What are you saying?! If you hurt my-"
"Our son, at least he still is at this moment, and you know I'd never let a single hair of his get harmed...."
Hongjoong hovered the pen above the dotted line at the bottom of the page.
"But I'm letting you know now Y/N, the second I sign these divorce papers, is the second you'll no longer be his mom or ever see him again."
There it was, just as you feared. He was blackmailing you into staying.
"Still want me to sign them?"
❧𝓟𝓪𝓻𝓴 𝓢𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝔀𝓪
Seonghwa sipped his tea calmly. Taking a quick glance at the clock, he let out a soft chuckle.
"She'll be here any minute."
Sure enough, just as the clock struck 10, the doors bursted open. He barely batted an eyelash at his wife who was now caged in between 2 very tall and muscular men who were carrying her in the room. Y/N swung her legs around, trying desperately to free herself but it was no use. They managed to sit her down at the opposite end of the table.
"Sit the fuck down."
Seonghwa's voice boomed throughout the dining room, and Y/N immediately abandoned her plan of running out the door once the security guards left. Seonghwa was even more menacing than them combined.
Pinching the bridge of his nose, he inhaled and then released a heavy sigh.
"Seriously? You start acting up these last few days and I let it go because I'm trying to be patient...."
Reaching for something underneath his plate, he threw it across so it landed right in front of Y/N.
"But that is the last straw."
In the blink of an eye, Seonghwa was right in front of her, harshly gripping her chin as he made her look into his cold and fiery eyes.
"Let me make this clear Y/N: you're my wife. I own you..... and I won't let you go around embarrassing me with some divorce shit."
Letting go of her, Seonghwa shoved her face away rather harshly.
"As if marrying you in the first place wasn't humiliating enough...."
❧𝓙𝓮𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓾𝓷𝓱𝓸
"Y/N....what are you-?"
When Yunho got the call from the lawyer telling him that you had filed for the divorce, he refused to believe it. He just couldn't believe it. He loved you, and you obviously loved him. It had to be a mistake.
But when he came home and found you packing the last of your things, reality hit him. You kept refusing to answer his questions, merely brushing past him as if he didn't exist. Getting frustrated, Yunho gripped your arms and held you in place.
"For God's sake Y/N! Why can't we just talk about this?! Talk to me! We have to work this out!" He didn't realize he began to shake her rather violently.
"There's nothing to work out here Yunho! I'm sick of all this! I'm sick of your possessiveness and I'm done!" You cried out.
"No baby please don't! I promise you I can change! Just please don't walk out on me!"
He embraced you tightly when you tried to push him off, his height and strength making your attempts at pulling away futile. His desperate sobs began to make you feel guilty, making you start to regret your decision......
But the still rational part of you refused to give in. You had to get out....
Even if you ended up destroying Yunho and yourself in the process.
❧𝓚𝓪𝓷𝓰 𝓨𝓮𝓸𝓼𝓪𝓷𝓰
Yeosang stared coldly at you. He had just finished reading the documents and he was definitely not amused. Without even blinking or moving his gaze from you, he ripped the papers in half, throwing them onto the floor.
"You've really gotten more brazen these past months." He noted.
"What can I say? I learned it from you." You spat back.
Yeosang lifted his hand but stopped himself midway. Clenching his fist, he took a deep breath before snapping his fingers. One of his guards immediately came up to you and landed a harsh slap to your cheek. Although it stung like a bitch, you refused to let any tears spill out and opted for keeping a straight face, knowing it'll piss him off even more.
"You can't keep me locked here with you forever Yeosang." You told him.
Raising an eyebrow at your challenging words, Yeosang hissed out:
"Oh no? Watch me."
He walked out of your room, motioning for two of the guards to stay positioned at your door. He glared at you as he closed the doors, the sound of them being locked resonating throughout the room.
Now you definitely were trapped.
❧𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓢𝓪𝓷
When they brought the documents to San and he took a look at them, he was furious. He actually got his gun out and shot the messenger dead with a bullet to the head.
"Where is she?!" He demanded.
"We don't know sir." One of his men replied.
"Well I'm giving you 1 hour to find her unless you want me to skin you all alive and feed you to the dogs. This is an order: find my wife and bring her back here. Do not harm her and most of all, do not allow her to try anything..."
San knew you were crazy enough to end your own life before allowing yourself to be taken back to him. You had already tried running away years before, which resulted in him caning your back so severely that it took you months to fully recover and to walk properly again. You remember when he warned you that if you tried anything like that again, he would not hesitate to torture you to death.
"I want her here! And I want her here alive! Do you understand me?!" He roared at his men.
"Sir yes sir!"
The men quickly sparsed themselves out, dedicated to finding you and bringing you back to your devil of a husband.
San looked out the window, his eyes squinting in rage and disgust as he looked at the city lights beneath him.
"I'll find you Y/N, you can't hide from me forever. Even if I have to set the entire city on fire and burn it to the ground, I will find you...
And I will kill you. "
❧𝓢𝓸𝓷𝓰 𝓜𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓲
Mingi grunted, his fist once again colliding with the poor man's face which was already badly bruised and dripping insane amounts of blood. But it wasn't enough for Mingi. He was livid, he was like a beast, and most of all, he was going insane after being told that not only you had filed for divorce but that you had actually left the country to god knows where.
"Fucking christ! Where is she?! Why can't any of you give me any answers?!" He shouted at the terrified people behind him.
"S-sir, we're trying our b-best.." they tried to explain.
"Well obviously, it's not good enough!"
Reaching his limit, he violently bashed the man's head against the concrete wall, cracking his skull open as blood spurted all over Mingi's shirt, neck and jaw, effectively putting an end to the man's suffering.
"Sir? We got a confirmation."
Mingi's eyes lit up instantly when he heard that. His subordinate showed him the coordinates of where you were located and even got a hold of the hotel room you were staying in.
Not able to wait any longer, Mingi gave orders for his plane to be prepared. Getting out his phone, he immediately called your room, his heart pounding so hard he thought it would burst out his chest.
"Hello?"
He stopped breathing for a moment when he finally heard your voice.
"Baby? Please wait for me.....
I'm coming for you."
❧𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓰 𝓦𝓸𝓸𝔂𝓸𝓾𝓷𝓰
Wooyoung raised an eyebrow at you.
"Do you want to die?" He questioned you.
"Why? Are you offering?" You counteracted him.
"Don't fucking test me cause I can easily arrange it."
Whether it was you feeling a little more brave or you simply had forgotten the kind of man Wooyoung really was, you had the audacity to scoff at him.
"But you won't Wooyoung. You're not going to kill me. Cause you're so puffed up with pride and power and with this obsessive need to control me, that if you kill me, you'd lose that power....."
You smirked at his shocked expression.
"And you can't have that now, can you?"
Wooyoung lifted his hand to slap you, but you quickly evaded it, landing a punch to his stomach that had him doubling over. You began running away, almost reaching the door when you cried out in pain as a loud bang sounded through the room. You clutched your leg as blood poured out from your shin, meanwhile Wooyoung strolled over to you, gun in his hand.
"You're right..... I won't kill you...
But that doesn't mean I won't hurt you.."
❧𝓒𝓱𝓸𝓲 𝓙𝓸𝓷𝓰𝓱𝓸
Jongho's eye and hand began to twitch as soon as he saw you walk in with Yunho, not liking your close proximity.
"Yunho....... distance." He reminded his friend.
Yunho looked over at you, who were now trembling slightly. Now Yunho understood why you begged him to accompany you for this. Sighing, Yunho merely walked up to Jongho and handed him the folder in his hands. Jongho furrowed his eyebrows as he peered through the contents. He immediately threw them on the floor in outrage.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?!" He demanded to know.
You winced at his tone of voice and immediately stood behind Yunho for protection, which only enraged Jongho more.
"I swear to God, if you're leaving me for him.."
Jongho walked up and tried to tear you away from Yunho, but luckily Yunho intervened and kept him from landing a finger on you.
"Let me go you fucking bastard! How dare you take my wife away from me!" Jongho accused him.
"First of all it's not like that and as long as I'm here, I won't let you hurt her! Jongho you've got to stop!"
But being stronger than the taller male, Jongho easily shoved him to the floor. He then proceeded to corner you in the wall, pining your arms as he slammed you against it. Yunho now panicked and accidentally blurted out:
"Jongho stop! You'll not only hurt her but the baby-"
Yunho immediately clasped a hand over his mouth as he realized he said what you wanted to keep secret. Jongho looked at Yunho then at you, who had fear written all over your face. Jongho softened up a little as his hands clasped around your stomach.
"And you still tried to leave me...?"
Gifs not mine. Credit goes to their respective owners
#ateez reactions#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez mafia au#mafia!ateez#mafia!au#yandere!au#yandere!ateez#ateez yandere au#ateez#ateez hongjoong#ateez seonghwa#ateez yunho#ateez yeosang#ateez san#ateez mingi#ateez wooyoung#ateez jongho
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Hjarta | Chapter 17
Fanfic summary: In an AU where Eivor was adopted by Randvi’s family instead, he ends up falling in love with the man his sister has been promised to despite the arranged marriage between their clans.
Point of view: third-person
Pairing: Sigurd Styrbjornson x Male Eivor
This story is also on AO3 | Previous chapter | Next chapter
A FEW MINUTES LATER
BJORNHEIMR
Sigurd dragged his feet across the uneven terrain, slogging through the dead woods that now served as Dag’s tomb. His hand shone vividly with a bright layer of red due to the blood that clung onto his skin, and his ears still buzzed with the echoes of his friend’s final cries.
As for Eivor, the jarl’s son appeared to be equally as harrowed as his companion. His eyes mirrored the frozen desolation of the bleak landscape sitting before him, and his face remained expressionless much like the corpses that now rested at Bjornheimr’s temple.
Both of them traversed the world like a pair of hollow shells, wandering through the dark in search of any light to hold onto. A black haze had blotted out the beam that once twinkled in their eyes, and it seemed as if the fire that once burned in them had been completely snuffed out.
Eivor just prayed this would be the end of their grief. It wouldn’t be long before they got the information they needed from Gorm, and the young man imagined they would soon be braving the seas again in search of the wretch’s father.
It was an endeavor that would only lead to more war, no doubt. There was a high chance that more people would die during their pursuit, and Eivor could no longer guarantee that even he would survive a second battle against Kjotve.
But after everything that had happened, he refused to shy away from this fight. Kjotve’s death wouldn’t bring Ulfar or Thora back from the dead, that much was true. But even then, Eivor hoped that -- at least -- it would serve as a balm to ease the pain now wracking his heart.
He didn’t even care about reclaiming his honor anymore. All he wanted was to bring this horrid war to an end. Far too many people had been lost to Kjotve’s barbarity, and Eivor’s only desire now was to deliver peace unto those who had suffered for so long.
It was something he was willing to die for at this point, and a part of him suspected that he would.
“Wait,” Sigurd said as they entered the village. He stopped in his tracks and gazed in the distance, looking towards the docks. “Is that Randvi’s ship?”
Eivor followed his line of sight, nodding in response. “Yes. Randvi and her men returned not too long ago. They arrived whilst you were dealing with Dag.” He paused briefly, giving the prince a grim face. “...I’ve already told her about Thora and Ulfar. She’s at the temple now with my father and Ingrida. They’re preparing for tomorrow’s funeral.”
“...How is she?”
“How do you think? She knew Thora and Ulfar even longer than I did. She... she’s beyond devastated.”
Sigurd sighed deeply, hanging his head low in regret. “...Damn it. I should’ve killed Dag weeks ago. I should’ve confronted him from the start. He had been acting so strange ever since we came to Bjornheimr. I shouldn’t have waited this long to do something about it. Perhaps none of this would’ve happened then.”
Eivor took a few steps closer to him, speaking softly. “You are not to blame, Sigurd. You had no way of knowing Dag was the traitor.”
The prince wasn’t swayed. “On the contrary, I was the only one who could’ve known. I was the closest one with Dag out of anybody in our clan. I should’ve been paying more attention. I shouldn’t have let my love for him blind my judgement.”
Sigurd shut his eyes for a moment and let out a breath, clearly exhausted from the day’s events. “...I’m sorry, Eivor. I know you don’t fault me for what’s happened, but even then, I still carry some of the blame on my shoulders. I must be more vigilant from now on. I can’t allow anything like this to occur again, and I won’t. You have my word.”
Walking away before the other man could respond, Sigurd left Eivor behind and simply pushed forward into the village, emerging from the forest like a shadow slipping out of the night. The despair that once dimmed his expression had been replaced with the flickering embers of a growing rage, and the Wolf-Kissed could almost see sparks igniting in his eyes.
As for the young man himself, he simply followed the prince from a distance and trailed along quietly, unsure of what else he could do to comfort his lover. A few of the villagers -- including Styrbjorn -- had turned their heads upon Sigurd’s anticipated return, and immediately brought their attention to the blood now staining his hand.
The color faded from the king’s flesh as soon as he noticed the striking pigment. He didn’t seem to understand what had transpired just yet, but the dreary cloud hanging over his son was enough to imply that something terrible had unraveled.
Styrbjorn approached the two of them, carrying a look of concern.
“My son...!” He called out, keeping his tone hushed. “Where have you been? What’s happened to you? Whose... whose blood is that?”
Sigurd exchanged glances with his companion, hesitant to answer. He didn’t appear to be any calmer than when Eivor first found him in the woods, and the younger man feared that it wouldn’t take much more to send him into a storm.
“It’s... Dag’s.” The prince admitted. “...I killed him.”
The older man fell into silence, taken aback by his son’s actions.
“You did what?”
“I had to,” Sigurd justified, steeling his voice. “Dag was the traitor. I had to get rid of him before he did anything else. I couldn’t allow him to harm more people.”
“A traitor?” Styrbjorn repeated in disbelief. “Are you positive? What makes you so certain he betrayed us? Did you find any evidence?”
“He confessed his crimes, father. He told me everything. Dag was the one assisting Kjotve. He was the one who informed him of our alliance. Ulfar was right.”
The king didn’t seem convinced. “I see. And was there anyone else around to hear Dag’s confession?”
“...No. It was just me and him.”
Styrbjorn shook his head in disapproval. “Then how can we be so sure that you killed the right man?”
Sigurd stared at his father in bewilderment, finally catching on to the man’s concerns. “...You don’t believe me?”
“It’s not that I don’t believe you, son. But other people may not -- and for good reason, I might add. You just killed one of our own clan members because of a confession that nobody was around to hear. Nobody except for you. How can I accept that as evidence? How am I going to explain Dag’s death to our people? How can I convince them that what you did was not, in fact, murder?”
Sadly, Sigurd was in no state to process things rationally. The king’s doubt only added more fuel to the anguish that was already festering inside him, and his temper quickly took over like a hurricane commanding the seas.
“You can explain to them that I just killed the man responsible for Thora’s death! I killed the man who would’ve thrown the rest of us to the wolves. Had it not been for that rat, this village would still be in one piece. Thora would still be alive. I killed him because it was necessary.”
Styrbjorn was quiet in response, urging Sigurd to fill the silence.
“You think I murdered him out of indulgence? You know how much I loved him, father. He was my brother! I didn’t want to see him dead. But I did what was required to keep our clan safe. I finished what Ulfar started.”
But the king had nothing else to offer other than criticism. “You acted carelessly, Sigurd. There is no honor in slaying a man who cannot defend himself. You know this. If you truly believed Dag was the traitor, you should’ve brought him to me -- not slaughtered him in the woods. I could’ve held a trial to determine his judgement. His crimes would’ve been brought to light.”
“You think we have the time for something like that? Dag may have been reckless, but he wasn’t a fool. If there really was any evidence to find of his collusion with Kjotve, he would’ve destroyed it. We’d be investigating for weeks, if not months!”
“And what if there is evidence? What if we discover that Dag was not the only traitor in our midst? What will we do then, hm?”
Sigurd grew irritated. “We’ll deal with it. Just like I dealt with Dag.”
Styrbjorn sighed in defeat. “You rely too much on impulse, my son. You cannot take matters into your own hands like this. If you are to wear the crown someday, you must learn to respect the ways of our kingdom. A good leader enforces the law with a firm hand, but is never above it.”
The prince didn’t take kindly to that. “You are the last person to dictate what makes a good leader. While I’ve been fighting alongside our warriors on the battlefield, risking my life, you’ve been idling with a bottle in your hand, watching everything unfold! You say I’m reckless, but who else is going to defend your kingdom if not you?”
The older man turned away in shame, causing his son to descend even further into his tirade.
“Killing Dag was the only way to proceed, father. I wouldn’t have done it if I had any other options, but we are at a dead-end here. You don’t want me to act like this? Then you can swing the axe yourself next time!”
Coming to an abrupt halt, Sigurd cut himself off and took a moment to glance at his surroundings, suddenly realizing just how much attention he had drawn to their argument. Everywhere around him, men and women alike gawked at their altercation with a blatant sense of fear in their eyes, alarmed by everything they just heard. Not a single word was uttered amongst the small crowd that had gathered around them, and yet, it felt as if their very thoughts lingered in the air.
Looking at his father, Sigurd stepped away from the other man and slunk to Eivor’s side, backing down as if he were shocked by his own behavior. He appeared to be even more devoid of life now that he had argued with Styrbjorn, and within moments, he was desperately searching for a way out.
“I... I need to be alone.”
In the blink of an eye, Sigurd removed himself from the vicinity and retreated to the longhouse, aching for the solitude of his chambers. He left Styrbjorn and Eivor with nothing more than the company of their own thoughts, and disappeared as if he were smoke being whisked away by the wind.
In the meantime, the two men simply watched the prince vanish in the distance as the crowd began to disperse, granting them the luxury of privacy they so fervently desired. A portion of them already felt somewhat sheepish due to announcing their troubles to the public, and frankly, the only thing Eivor wanted was to lock himself in his room.
Unfortunately for the young man though, Styrbjorn didn’t seem ready to let him go just yet.
“Oh, Sigurd...” the king muttered to himself. “When will that boy learn...?”
Eivor approached the conflicted man, attempting to calm his nerves.
“Forgive him, my lord.” He pleaded. “Grief has befallen Sigurd. He made a great sacrifice for us today, cutting down his own friend like that. It will take him a long time to recover from this.”
Styrbjorn pinched the bridge of his nose out of stress, pacing back and forth in the snow.
“I understand that my son was only trying to protect our clan, but I must ensure he’s prepared to inherit the throne. We are at war, Eivor. There’s no guarantee I’ll be around by the time Kjotve is vanquished. The dawn of Sigurd’s reign could arrive sooner than he expects. He must be ready.”
“He is ready,” The Wolf-Kissed reassured. “He just needs time to heal.”
The king halted in his tracks and glanced at the younger man, inquiring about one other matter.
“Listen, Eivor. I hate to ask you of this considering everything that’s going on, but could you speak to Sigurd for me? I’d feel better knowing he wasn’t dealing with this alone.”
Eivor raised a brow. “Me? Why not you?”
“You’ve witnessed firsthand the animosity that stands between me and my son. Very rarely does Sigurd ever greet me with a smile. Whenever we’re together, it always feels like he’s angry at me, or frustrated. And the worst part is... I can’t even say he’s completely unjustified.”
“What do you mean?”
Styrbjorn sighed regretfully, dropping his gaze to the ground. There was a clear rein of hesitancy holding him back, but he knew that in order to help his son the best, he’d need to offer his full candor.
“Perhaps he’s already told you this, but... ever since Sigurd’s mother passed away, I’ve found myself continuously drawn to the allure of drink. It’s something that’s haunted me for years now. I’ve tried many times to put down the bottle, but in the end, it always ends up trapping me in its clutches. I’m not proud to admit it, but it’s the truth.”
Eivor nodded in remembrance. “Sigurd has told me about this, yes.”
“I’m not surprised. He often speaks fondly of you. It’s clear you’ve gained my son’s unwavering trust. Unfortunately however, I cannot say the same for myself. My relationship with Sigurd has suffered due to my addiction. I have not always been the father he deserves, nor given him the guidance that he needed.”
The king’s stone facade faltered briefly. “It breaks my heart to consider it, but I fear that my own son views me as a nuisance more than anything. A lingering shackle that keeps holding him back. Sometimes I even wonder if the boy hates me.”
The young man’s expression softened with sympathy. “...No, Styrbjorn. No. He doesn’t hate you. Even Sigurd himself has told me that he loves you. He just feels ignored.”
That caught Styrbjorn’s attention. “Ignored?”
“Yes. The last time he and I spoke about this issue, he expressed that he often feels like you don’t heed his advice; that his words tend to fall on deaf ears. Sigurd wants to help you overcome this, but he says you won’t let him.”
“It’s... true that I haven’t always kept my promises. I cannot deny that. But this battle is not so easily won.”
Eivor gave him an understanding look. “And Sigurd is aware of that. He knows you won’t be able to discard this overnight. But he just needs to see that you’re making some kind of effort. That will be more than enough for him. Trust me.”
Styrbjorn took the man’s advice to heart and quietly thought to himself for a moment, evidently shaken by this revelation. It was clear that a part of him drowned in guilt due to the discovery of Sigurd’s frustrations, but a hint of relief also twinkled in his eye now that he knew the boy still loved him.
“...I see.” The king said sincerely, gazing at the young man with an immense amount of gratitude. “Thank you for telling me this, Eivor. The path to reconciliation will be one laden with difficulties, but at least I can see where I must go. I will think on what you’ve said, and I’ll speak to Sigurd when the moment is right. In the meantime, could you talk to him for now? I fear that my presence would only amplify his anger.”
“Of course,” Eivor said with a firm nod. “I’ll check on him for you.”
“I appreciate it. Stay safe, my boy. Our struggles are far from over. I pray that the gods will extend their mercy to you from now on, and that you recover quickly from today’s tragedies. Peace is a distant reality for us at the moment, but not unreachable.”
~~~~~~~~~~
THE LONGHOUSE
SIGURD’S CHAMBERS
Wandering through the longhouse’s dimly lit halls, Eivor followed the trail of torches as he made his way to Sigurd’s chambers, overwhelmed by the looming silence that was broken only by his footsteps.
The adamant walls of the building had blocked out any intrusive sounds -- including that of the howling wind -- and as a result, nothing but the low crackling of fire was present to accompany the thoughts screaming in Eivor’s head.
He just didn’t know how to feel anymore. When he first discovered Thora’s body, the agony that overcame him was so fierce it almost crippled him entirely. He felt like the gods had ripped a hole in the very fabric of the world, and the impact of Ulfar’s death only pressed harder on the weight that was already resting on his shoulders.
Still, he couldn’t imagine what Sigurd was experiencing. Even though Eivor was no stranger to the atrocities of war, he had never been cursed with the responsibility of striking down his own brother. The mere idea of putting himself in the same position with Randvi was enough to crush him, and he worried that the guilt would twist the prince’s spirit into something much darker. He just hoped he could help the man before it was too late.
“...Sigurd?” The Wolf-Kissed said gently, knocking on the surface of his door. “It’s me, Eivor. Can I come in?”
A soft rustle emitted from the inside, followed up by the muffled thuds of Sigurd’s boots. The door swung open after a few moments, and standing in front of him, Eivor saw the prince, looking somber as ever.
“Eivor...?” He whispered, still afflicted by the ordeal with Dag. “You’re here?”
“Yes. I know you said you wished to be alone, but... I was worried. You disappeared from our sight before we could even get a word in. I wanted to check on you. I hope I’m not intruding.” The younger man paused for a second. “...How are you feeling now?”
Sigurd’s gaze fell to the floor. “I... I don’t know, Eivor.” His posture slouched in remorse. “...I’m not doing well.”
“Of course not,” Eivor said in understanding. “Dag was like a brother to you. No one could do what you did and come out unscathed.”
The prince scoffed. “No one except for my father, apparently.” He turned away from the door and stepped aside, allowing Eivor to come in as he spoke. “Can you believe that man? We are this close to winning the war against Kjotve, and he’s more concerned about due process.”
Eivor followed Sigurd into his chambers, closing the door behind them.
“Your father just wants to make sure you’re ready to rule the kingdom.”
“Well, there won’t be a kingdom to rule if we don’t catch Kjotve soon enough. My father says I’m careless in my behavior, but I don’t recall the last time I saw him lifting a sword. What else does he expect me to do?”
Sigurd took a seat on the edge of his bed and sighed, completely drained of all vigor. “...I know I’m not perfect, Eivor. I know I still have much to learn. But everything I do is for the betterment of this clan. Why can’t my father see that?”
Eivor sat beside his lover, placing a comforting hand on his back. “He does see it. He may not be the best at getting his message across, but trust me when I say your father knows you have good intentions. He just worries that you’ll act with too much haste.”
The prince’s brow furrowed in curiosity. “Is that so? And what makes you so certain of that?”
“He and I talked after you left,” the younger man admitted. “He wanted to speak with you personally, but he thought that his company would only aggravate you more.” Eivor frowned in empathy. “...Your father thinks you hate him, Sigurd.”
Sigurd’s entire mood seemed to shift at the response, and for a split-second, it almost looked like he had completely forgotten about the rage he harbored.
“He does...?”
“Well, he suspects it,” Eivor clarified, “but he said that things are always tense between you two. There never seems to be a moment of peace whenever you’re together.”
The prince shook his head, eager to dispel his beliefs.
“...No,” he said softly. “No. I don’t hate him. I love my father, in fact. I just hate the things he does sometimes.” Sigurd leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “I want to keep him safe like I promised my mother I would. It brings me no joy to see him endure any pain or hardship, but...” he let out a breath of frustration, “...he never listens to me! Whenever I try to help him, he only pushes me away. Once, I even dumped all our ale into the river to stop him from drinking, and he broke into a fury unlike anything I’d ever seen.”
A grip of fear took hold of Sigurd’s voice. “...That stuff is poison, Eivor. It’s going to kill him someday. The last thing I want is to see my father step into an early grave, but how am I supposed to help him when he won’t even help himself?”
Eivor brought his partner into a hug, allowing his chin to sit on the man’s shoulder.
“You need to be more patient, Sigurd,” he advised. “Ultimately, your father’s recovery is his own responsibility, but a hostile relationship won’t do anything for either of you. He’s still trying to move on from your mother’s death. Just like you’re trying to move on from Dag’s. Give him time.”
The prince let out a sigh and warmed up to Eivor’s embrace, finally cooling off from the heat of his argument with Styrbjorn.
“I... I suppose you’re right.” He conceded, turning to face the younger man. “...Okay, Eivor. I’ll try to make things right. Not just for my father, but also for you. I promise.”
Eivor smiled at that. “Good. It won’t be easy, I know. But it’ll be worth it.”
Sigurd sat up from his position and laid a hand on the Wolf-Kissed’s lap, diverting the focus of their conversation elsewhere.
“Anyway, enough about me. How are you doing, my love? I’m... so sorry about Thora and Ulfar.”
Eivor separated their hug and stared bleakly at the floor, trying to keep himself together.
“...I still can’t believe they’re gone,” he said. “I thought I’d be used to losing people like this after what happened to my parents, but it hurts just as much as it did all those years ago. Only this time, I feel like I could’ve done something. I wish I did.”
A tinge of regret blanketed Sigurd’s face. “Are you angry that I held you back during the holmgang?”
“No,” Eivor answered truthfully. “I know you didn’t mean any harm. You were only trying to preserve Ulfar’s honor, and to be honest, I’m grateful that you did. As much as I wish I could’ve saved that man, I’d feel even worse if he never reached Valhalla. I’m going to miss him more than words can describe, but at least I know he’s at peace now. At least I know he’s reunited with his wife.” A cloud of sorrow fogged the young man’s eyes. “...I just wish I could say the same for Thora.”
Sigurd’s nose crinkled at the memory of discovering Thora’s body. “Gorm is even more of a coward than his father. It’s a shame what he did to her. He will get the punishment he deserves, Eivor. I won’t let him get away with it.”
The Wolf-Kissed found some solace in the prince’s reassurance. “Thank you. I know there’s nothing I can do to bring Thora back, but it seems only fitting that the man who murdered her joins her side in Helheim.”
“And he will. One way or another.”
Standing up from the bed, Eivor straightened his tunic and inched towards the door, preparing to take his leave. He didn’t want to abandon Sigurd’s side just yet, but he also wanted to see how his family was coping before the day came to an end.
“Anyway, I’ll give you some space, Sigurd.” He said, pressing a hand against the door’s surface. “I imagine you probably want to be alone right now, and there are some things I need to take care of before the funeral starts.”
Contrary to his belief however, the prince didn’t seem to share his sentiments. “Actually, I’d like you to stick around a little longer. If you’re willing to stay, that is.”
Eivor halted mid-action, unable to hide his interest. “You would?”
“Your company is one of the few things that offers me peace nowadays, Eivor. If you want to take this conversation further, you’re more than welcome here.”
The blonde viking took a hesitant glance outside the door, still carrying the same concerns he had lugged around for the past two weeks.
“But what if someone finds us? Don’t you think it’ll strike them as odd that I’ve been with you for so long?”
Sigurd let out a fatigued breath, slowly rising from his bed. “...I don’t care anymore. All this death sitting on our doorstep has shown me just how precious life truly is. I have no idea if I’ll even survive this war, Eivor. I’m not going to spend what could possibly be my final days pretending that I don’t feel anything for you.”
He walked up to his companion, leaving no more than a few inches between them. “I love you, Eivor. And I’m not ashamed to say it.”
Eivor froze at the confession and simply stared at Sigurd in silence, entirely at a loss for words. It wasn’t too long ago that the prince nearly tore himself apart trying to keep their affair a secret, and yet, he was practically declaring his love from the top of the world now. He no longer cared about the rumors that would spread, or the judgmental glances he’d receive. He was finally done hiding, and Eivor wondered if it was time he felt the same.
“Forgive me,” the younger man replied, “I... I don’t know what to say. I just never expected to hear you say those words.”
Sigurd chuckled. “Neither did I. I used to berate myself without pause when I first realized I was growing attached to you. I tried so desperately to shift my attention to Randvi for the sake of this alliance, but... it never worked. Things only deteriorated for me, and as a result, my life turned into a never-ending battle. I was miserable.”
Eivor smirked affectionately. “And now?”
Sigurd returned the grin. “Now, I know what I want at last. I can finally see why the gods led me here, and I’m done pushing against this fate that the Nornir have woven for me. I’m done with living a lie. My only question is... do you feel the same?”
The Wolf-Kissed let his hand drop from the door and focused completely on the man in front of him, peering fondly into his eyes.
“Of course I do. You’ve always been there for me ever since you first arrived at Bjornheimr. The circumstances under which we had to meet will forever leave a scar on this clan, but I can say for certain that our encounter was a blessing.” Eivor beamed brightly at the prince, holding his cheek in his palm. “I love you too, Sigurd. And nothing will ever change that.”
Sigurd’s expression radiated with a vibrant joy upon hearing that, and he pulled Eivor even closer to him, gently pushing him against the wall. He pecked a small kiss on the younger man’s neck and held him securely by the waist, allowing himself to forget about his troubles for just a brief moment.
“Then let us cast away the burdens of our struggles for tonight, and cherish our final hours of peace together. The stability of this war is precarious enough as it is. If anything happens to us, I don’t want to leave this world with regrets. Freya gave you to me as a gift the day we met, and I don’t intend to waste it.”
Eivor closed his eyes in bliss and linked his arms around Sigurd, caressing him in his embrace. The prince’s touch soothed his skin like ice on a fresh burn, and for the first time in a while, he was able to let his mind roam free from its continuous torment. The bond they shared was something that provided Eivor with a tranquility unlike anything else, and he silently begged the gods to keep his lover safe.
“From here to Valhalla,” Eivor whispered warmly, “I’ll always be at your side, Sigurd.”
#hjarta#assassin's creed valhalla#ac valhalla#eivor wolfsmal#eivor wolfkissed#eivor varinsson#male eivor#sigurd styrbjornson#sigurd x male eivor#ac valhalla fanfic
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ovo I am just a tiny american, still learning about all these things, so I'm not 100% educated on this, but I'd like to spring to the defense of thode that are completely unaware of this issue, and speak alongside those who are at least partially educated and on my side about this?
So like, I can't speak for everybody, that would be stupid on my part, but like honestly? It's weird to me how I see this and realize that there's people out there still thinking that american people actually know about this issue. Those people talking badly or sarcastically about the subject of universal health care are at least one of two people that I could only guess, they are either someone who would be threatened(money wise, job wise, belief wise) by the change of it all, or they are someone who is lead to believe that universal healthy is actually worse, whether there was truth used in those beliefs or not.
I know more people who are down for, and would benefit so much more for universal health care in the US than I have ever be aware of previously. You can read anywhere on this site, America's spread of info amongst the public media is fucked up and full of lies. The whole universal healthcare topic seems to be no different. And it's honestly no wonder why we're called stupid Americans all the time, a lot of the time, we really don't know anything about whats going on. I'll tell you right now, among my generation in highschool, at least the populace at my highschool, more and more kids are frustrated and terrified of becoming an adult for many reasons and some of those reasons include these things, because we aren't sure how we're going to change it, but we want change. Because we see that it's bad.
We see the lies our parents have been fed by the government, and then leading that ignorance down to us, and hate that it's up to us to show them the evidence. There's such a visible divide to us, the younger generations and those seemingly far away, unknown higher-ups in control of all these major coperations, the government, the health system, everything. They do not teach us these things broadly in school, and I can assure you that I don't think anyone would have commonly known about how big our military budget is if we didn't have social media to connect with other countries and compare what spending averages were. If it was as obvious to everyone here in America as it is to the fewer here online, I could only hope that people would come to realize our tax money is feeding into the military of the 'mediator of the world' so much so that I believe we could half the amount we spend on it and we'd still be well off, and maybe then we'd have some managable health care by then and you know what? As an American kid, hearing something like that? That sounds awful. And largely fucking unfair.
But we're kids, right? We're grouped in with the rest of em, because it's totally like we don't realize the corruption of everyone enriched with power trying their damnedest to keep that power, because god forbid they all do their moral job as a human being and help people. God forbid their precious image gets ruined.
And the scariest part of all this to me, as an american teen? Is that we dont only have college to look forward to on the horizon(something now seemingly permantly linked with inevitable 10+ year long debt to the average, already struggling student, might I add), but we are still dealing with school currently on our timelines, and let alone having the pressures of our parents and our societal expectations already weighing down on us for when we graduate and what we are planning to be, just like everywhere else in the world, and now it's starting to become startlingly visible to us, this younger generation, with all the lies and other things being unearthed, and no matter how much it's denied we already know the truth, and believed it for far longer than we believed the lies theyve attempted to feed to us. We are starting to become(if not already are) very aware that our country is in shambles and those clinging to the top are trying so desperately to keep it from us. The cover is slipping, so now we are confronted by this new realization.
Where do we even begin?
Because we know it's got to be us to fix this, we're out of time, and tired of waiting for the change to come to us. We know it's not magic despite desperately wishing it was. Someone has to step up soon, and the longer we put it off, the worse it's gonna get, and the longer we will take to progesterone as a society. A seeming divide between the people who want to help and realize the wrongs of our societies doings, and the people who want to be greedy and refuse to change their ways because it risks all that they've built up on and doesn't match up with their views, I guess.
So, I ask that, maybe, concider that there are people here, kids and teens at least, that see these messed up things, know these awful things happen, but don't have a damn clue on how to even begin to change that. But they still want to.
I can't imagine the hell of spending every waking moment of my adult life trying to avoid even the slightest of injuries, not out of the fear of being injured, but out of the fear that said injury or sickness could easily be the end of your financial stability, if you even ever had it. But people here do it every day, because they don't know better. They don't know the lies they are fed. And it seems there aren't enough that do know, to make a meaningful difference, yet.
Perhaps I'm wrong, perhaps I'm only wishing for this to be true and it's all in my head. I wouldn't know, not fully, I'm just a teen after all, I don't have enough social experience to know the whole populace, and I never will. But I'd like to think that maybe, I'm not the only one here scared out of their mind, wondering why we can't have it a little better when it's literally just a decision to be made, a decision that immediately gets intercepted by power/money hungry humans who hate change every time we try and bring something up that endangers them.
This post responce kinda got away from me, but I honestly felt like this needed to be said. And I'll restate this, I'm standing for those who may not know this and why, and for those I believe to be on my side about this. But the key words are 'may' and 'believe,' because I cannot be sure about that, so don't hold my word to represent a large sum of people. I'm just a tiny american, afraid of the big world, and I refuse to be grouped in as part of this country if that means I'll be assumed to be willingly stupid or ignorant, too.
I get really confused when americans, when talking about universal health care are like ‘yeh but it’s not free sweaty :) :) you have to pay it through taxes :) so gotcha!!’
and I’m like ….???? That’s the whole point??? Everyone pays their fair share so that no one has to be turned away because they don’t have insurance??? And no one has to set up a Fundraiser page just so that they DONT DIE???? So people don’t put off going to the doctor because they’re scared of going bankrupt?? Because healthcare is a RIGHT and should be free at the point of access?!?
#im sorry i ended up reblogging this from you lj#this is just things thatbive thought about for a very long time and i believe this responce was ablong time coming#im honestly ready to take the backlash and ready to be told im completely wrong because at least then im learning#im a teen growing up in a scary world and all i want is knowledge- knowledge that doesnt consist of lies that benifits another party toxicl#and im so afraid#so im gonna speak my opinion#and wait to be told something-anything-that justifies that my fear is rational#luka rambles
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Don’t Stop If I Fall (And Don’t Look Back)
Frank Iero x Gender Neutral!Reader (ending 2 of 4 for Here In This House of Wolves)
Word Count: 2013
A/N: This one’s kinda spooky! Hope you enjoy it!
Disclaimer: This is entirely a work of fiction. No part of this story is meant to be libel, slander, or in any way derogatory towards any character’s real life counterpart. I’m not delusional; I know that these characters are simply based off of a public persona and may not actually resemble the people behind those personas. Any additional characters that you do not recognize are entirely fictional, unless otherwise stated. And finally, if you got here by Googling yourself, whatever happens next is 100% on you.
You sighed, shifting restlessly from foot to foot, waiting as the guides explained the rules and prepared to unlock the door leading to the walkthrough. Though there was part of you that still doubted the legitimacy of the whole set-up, you were definitely excited to see if it would really measure up to the promises of both the brochure and the hosts. As a self-proclaimed and Way-brother-confirmed horror nerd, you had been through many a haunted house. And while some were bone-chillingly terrifying, others fell more on the Scooby Doo side of frightening. Either way, you knew you wouldn’t be short on entertainment with the way the others were carrying on.
Finally, the hosts led you to the door, with a final warning to keep your wits about you. They opened them to reveal a pitch black hallway, and without warning, shoved everyone forward. Before you could even spare a final glance back, they slammed the doors shut, leaving you in total darkness.
“Oh god,” Ray moaned miserably. “I knew this was a terrible idea.”
You could practically hear Mikey’s growing irritation in the all-consuming nothingness.
“Well, the only way out is through, so,” Gerard said, with the certainty of someone who had seen hundreds of fantasy and adventure movies. “On we go.”
“Yeah, whatever you say, Gerard. Let’s just try and get out of here with all our limbs still attached.” Brian sighed. There was a shuffle of forward-sounding movement, and you tried to keep.
Suspiciously absent from the conversation was Frank.
---
After what seemed like a mile, but you knew rationally couldn’t have been more than a dozen yards, the hallway became a bit narrower with faint, faint, cracks of light low to the ground on either side. Up in front, Ray and Gerard kept bumping into the walls and swearing, though they were sure they were heading straight on.
Suddenly, you were yanked back by your elbow. Instinctively, you tried to scream, both out of fear and hope that the others would hear and help you, but a warm, calloused hand clamped over your mouth. Whoever it was that had grabbed you began to drag you backwards, much to your horror, and a pit of icy dread began to form in your stomach. Though you kicked your feet in protest, it was no use. You could barely even hear the others anymore. You were on your own.
Desperately, and with the sudden realization that this might not be part of the haunted house any more, you began to bite down on the hand pressed over your mouth, doing anything to get away. Suddenly, you and your abductor stumbled backward through an unseen door into a brightly lit room, and the hands that had restrained you released.
“Holy fucking shit,” an insanely recognizable voice swore. “Are you insane, you could have fucked up my hand-”
Instantly, all the fear in your body evaporated and was replaced with red hot anger. Frank.
“No, are you fucking insane?!” You whirled around on him. “What the hell were you thinking, I thought someone was gonna kill me, or worse-”
Frank rolled his eyes. “You need to calm down, you’ve been hanging around Gee too much. We would’ve found your body eventually.”
You took a moment to relax, close your eyes, and let the remaining terror drain out of your body. When you opened them, you noticed just how small the room you were in was, as well as how close Frank was standing to you. You also noticed that your heart was beating way faster than normal, something you hoped that, if he noticed, he would attribute to the fight-or-flight response of almost being kidnapped, which, by the way, what the actual fuck?
“Where the hell are we, Frank? And also, why?”
“One of those rooms off that hallway.”
You remember the faint light you had seen just before Frank grabbed you. “Oh.”
“And… the reason we’re in here is because I thought it would be funny to fuck with them. And I thought you’d be down to help me.” You sighed, rubbing your elbow where his hand had been only moments earlier. “And you couldn’t have told me about this before you gave me a heart attack?”
“Well,” You could tell he was trying to justify his reasoning on the spot. “If they thought you were actually being abducted, that would add to the prank.” “Asshole,” you muttered, though you really weren’t mad anymore. “I don’t even think they noticed I was gone.” “Then that makes them the assholes. Which is another reason you should help me. Please?”
You pretended to still be annoyed. It was best to not let Frank know when he had already won you over; otherwise, he would try to get away with everything underneath the sun. You were sure the others were far ahead of you now, and you weren’t too keen on the idea of wandering through the haunted house by yourself. There was also the small matter of being flattered and giddy that Frank chose you to pull this prank with, and deep down, you knew there was no chance you would turn down some time alone with him.
“Fine. I hope you have a really good plan.”
Frank grinned.
---
“So, I think I have it figured out,” he said a few minutes later as he was leading you down the hallway by your hand. You were glad that it was so dark that he couldn’t see how much your cheeks were heating up. “Somehow, they made this hallway sorta curved, but only a little bit, so it totally disorients you. And I think at some point, it opens into a maze?”
He stopped abruptly, and let go of your hand. You tried not to be too disappointed.
“Hey, do you feel that?” You heard some rustling, like he was waving his hands around and shuffling closer to the wall. “It feels like a breeze.”
Before you could respond, you heard his palms land on something solid and heavy, and then suddenly, the hallway was filled with the bright afternoon sunlight. You hurried through the previously hidden door after him, not wanting to be discovered. After your eyes had adjusted to the light, you saw that you were in an open area on the side of the building. The wind rustled through the old pine trees, but there wasn’t another soul around besides you and Frank. Towards the back end of the building, you saw some weathered marble slabs that you had the sinking feeling were tombstones.
“Oh shit, check it out!” Frank laughed, ducking down and running alongside the wall.
You followed him through the knee-high grass and peered through the old window with him. On the other side, though dimly lit, were your bandmates and manager. You could see Gerard closest to the window, trying his best to contain his panic. Ray and Brian were up front, in some sort of passionate discussion about… something. Mikey was in the back, expressionless as usual, but you could tell by the tilt of his shoulders that he was, at best, vaguely uncomfortable.
“Okay,” Frank whispered, turning to you. “On three, okay?”
You nodded, trying to keep from laughing.
“1… 2…3!”
You and Frank sprang up from the ground and slammed your palms on the windows, much to the surprise of everyone inside. You could hear Gerard’s scream through the glass.
“Oh my god,” Frank laughed loudly as he rolled in the grass. “Think they could see us?”
“I don’t think so.” You shook your head. “I don’t remember seeing any when I was in the hallway, though they must have been there. Maybe it’s a one-way mirror.”
“Well, that was funny, but not exactly what I had in mind. How do you feel about a little psychological torture?”
---
Frank’s plan was pretty impressive, you had to admit. For the next few minutes, you waited patiently until the group passed another window. Based on how long it took them, you had a feeling that Frank’s suspicion about the maze was correct. You waited until they were right in front of the glass, and then you sprang into action.
“GUYS! HELP!” You tried your best to sound as terrified as possible, but it was hard with Frank grinning up at you. It should be illegal for someone to look that good while cackling.
Apparently, your “distress” call stunned them into silence.
“Oh my god,” Mikey whispered, and though it was muffled through the glass, you could tell he was serious. Next to him, Gerard had gone as white as a sheet.
“Where are you? Tell us where you are, we’ll come find you!” Ray called back.
“HELP!” You screamed again.
You could hear Brian and Ray start mumbling and cursing again as the group pushed forward, this time with urgency.
“Oh, god,” you laughed, flopping back onto the grass next to Frank. “That was an excellent idea, oh my god.”
“Yeah, they-”
“I hate to interrupt,” a cold, cutting voice spoke from somewhere above your heads, “but I believe that we were very clear in our introduction that there was only one acceptable entrance and one acceptable exit. I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to leave.”
You and Frank glanced at each other with wide eyes before staring up into the unamused face of one of the hosts from the lobby.
---
“We regret that you couldn’t see more of the tour, and ask that you please refrain from returning. Thank you!” The man turned and walked away from the van. He had followed you and Frankie the entire way back, just to ensure you got the message.
“He did not sound regretful at all,” Frank frowned as he shook the door handle on the van. “Success!” he smiled as it popped open.
You followed him as he climbed into the second row of seats. “That’s the last time I go along with one of your ideas,” you moaned, leaning into his shoulder. “That was humiliating.”
“Hey, you get used to being escorted out after the 50th time,” he smiled, resting his head on top of yours. “I am glad you came with me, though. It’s fun having someone to do that kind of stuff with though.”
You smiled, just enjoying the closeness for a few more moments, before putting it all on the line. “It was fun and all, but I’d be lying if I said I didn’t have another reason for going.”
“Hm?”
You moved back and turned to face him. “I really like you, Frankie. I know that might be a lot to handle right now, especially with the album coming up, but-”
You were cut off by the sudden realization that Frank was kissing you. It took your mind a few seconds to catch up with your body, but once it did, you jad no intention of stopping.
When you both broke away for air, Frank leaned in to press his forehead to yours. “I like you a lot too, if it wasn’t already obvious. No ifs, ands, or buts about it.”
You laughed, and tilted your face up to continue what you had started. Unfortunately, before you were able to get too far, the doors of the van swung open. You and Frank scrambled to opposite sides of the seats as the rest of the band climbed in. They did not look happy.
“Where were you guys?” Ray was fuming, a rare sight to see. “We turned around and you were gone!” “Yeah,” Gerard cut in. “You had no idea how scared we were; we kept hearing you screaming and we thought you were hurt!”
“I hope you guys are happy with yourselves because you’ll be the ones cleaning the van at the end of the tour,” Brain muttered, rolling his eyes, much to Frank’s protests.
“I gotta know, though,” Mikey said, leaning over the seat to talk to you. “What the hell were you guys actually doing?” You caught Frank’s eye and smiled. “Let’s just say it’s a long story.”
A/N: Thanks for reading :) The other endings will be up soon!
#frank iero imagine#frank iero x reader#mcr imagine#mcr x reader#frank iero#my chemical romance#mcr#my chem#my chemical romance x reader#my chemical romance imagine#gerard way#ray toro#mikey way#bandom#bandom imagine#reader insert
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Worst of You - JJK Final
You meet him under horrible circumstances but everything feels perfect when you’re with him. Too bad you have a bitch of a best friend, anxiety and an inability to learn from your mistakes which cripples your chances to be with the man of your literal dreams. He, however, is a police officer with years worth of built-up turmoil and an inability to make attachments. Or “I’m not leaving until you tell me what’s wrong.” “Cool, I’ll let everyone know you’re moving in then.”
Genre: fluff, angst, comedy
Pairing: officer!jungkook X collegestudent!reader
Word count: 2,834
Warnings: None but let me know if you find me.
Note: I’m so sorry for the really late update BUT I had to finish my paper first! Wow, let me just say I am very, very, thankful to have such amazing, wonderful people who read this fic and I love each and every single one of you so so so much. Thank you for reading and thank you for allowing me to share this with you. This is just the beginning and I have many ideas that are yet to hit paper so this will not be goodbye. Once again, thank you to everyone for reading and I love you all!
| 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 | 09 | 10 | 11 |
Jungkook promised himself he wouldn’t get sad over you. He tried so hard to stop himself from getting attached and yet here he was, 2 weeks later, unable to focus on a single thing at work. Jungkook spent his entire Saturday moping around his apartment, he recalled how he used to spend Saturday nights, clubbing and one-night-stands, but now none of that appealed to him. You had ruined Jungkook, now he couldn’t even look at a girl the way he used to because he always thought of you instead. On Sunday he was invited out with his brother’s family, his niece and nephew were constantly asking about you and Jungkook couldn’t help but grow sadder each time. He didn’t know why he missed you, or how he even could miss you when he swore to himself he wasn’t attached. It was a Monday and Jungkook was at work again, staring at the same paper for 20 minutes with an empty head. Mel approached him with a coffee. “What’s wrong?” Jungkook gratefully took the cup from her hand as she sat on the chair in front of his desk, where you used to sit. Jungkook scolded himself mentally for thinking of you but no matter how many times he did it, his mind would come back to you.
Mel felt bad for what she did, it was eating her alive and yet she knew if she told him he’d never forgiven her, especially since he lost Y/N. She was jealous, unaware of the fact that her love for him wasn’t as platonic as she thought it was. It never bothered her before because he was alone but when he wasn’t, all her emotions came cascading upon her as she let her jealousy overrule her rationality. Jealousy was a horrible emotion that caused people to do reckless things, Jungkook knew it, Mel knew it and back at your dorm, you knew it too.
“I’m so stupid! I screwed it all up just because I’m an insecure, jealous little bitch!” You were angrily throwing pillows around as you ranted to Jimin who just came into your room to borrow your laptop charger. “Hey, it’s okay. I’m sure if you apologize he will understand.” You fell back onto your bed, sighing. “I tried. I called, I messaged, I even went to the station but the receptionist said he didn’t want to see me.” He softly stroked your head as you pouted at the ceiling, he was grateful you stopped crying but your anger was more annoying than your tears. “Make a grand gesture or something, like they do in the movies. You know, with the whole rocks on windows thing and the poetic love letters.” You grabbed one of the pillows you haphazardly threw and aimed it at him. “Except, I’m not 15, this isn’t a movie and he lives in a penthouse; I can’t throw rocks that far up, Jimin!” He threw the pillow back at you and soon enough it became a pillow war.
“Wait!” Jimin’s hand stopped midway through the air. “I have an idea!” Jimin looked at you weirdly but put the pillow down to listen. “What if I reverse ‘10 Things I Hate About You’ and write a letter about all the reasons he should forgive me?” Jimin looked at you blankly, not catching on. “Writing on paper is literally the only thing I’m good at, Jimin!” He smiled before rushing you to get ready while he left the room. Once Jimin was outside, he silently prayed that the letter would work, post-break-up Y/N was the worst Y/N.
“I know he doesn’t want to see me but could you just give this to him-” “Y/N!” Mel’s voice startled you, causing you to drop the letter. You quickly picked it up though in the process you gave yourself a paper cut. Perhaps it shouldn’t have been 4 pages long. “Y/N, I have to apologize about something.” Mel had explained that she had lied to you, and even went further to explain everything you were suspicious about with Jungkook, even covering his fears about his mother. You spoke for about 20 minutes before she told you he was upstairs, at his desk, on his lunch break. Although what she had told you was a lot to take in, you found that the only thing you could think about then was apologizing to Jungkook. You took the letter and zoomed upstairs with Mel’s permission.
The second Jungkook saw you he felt his eyes poke out of his head. He wasn’t expecting to see you, especially not with a huge smile on your face.
“Before you yell at me and tell me to leave, let me explain. Throughout my entire life, the only safe place I had was my mind and I’ve grown to live in it sometimes and despite my unhealthy attachment to it, it hates me. I overthink a lot and whenever I do my mind runs off to the worst possible scenario and my mind turns into pure chaos. It’s not an excuse because it doesn’t justify me accusing you of something you didn’t do and I’m sorry that I didn’t come to you first but you have to know it wasn’t because I didn’t want to be with you. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me but you must accept this apology letter as a sign of my extreme remorse. It contains all the reasons why I believe you should forgive me because I am very, very bad at talking-” before you could finish your rambling, Jungkook interrupted you.
“Y/N, I’m busy, I don’t have time to read your letter right now.” Your smile fell, but you were persistent. “It’s okay I can read it out to you!” He shook his head, picking up the remains of his lunch and throwing it into his bin. You began reading it but he stopped you again “You should go.” You frowned, getting upset because this wasn’t going to plan and you didn’t have a plan B. “But I still have 4 pages left…” You looked like you were going to cry and Jungkook wasn’t sure he could handle it before anything else happened though, Mel interrupted.
“I lied to Y/N.” You looked up at her, shocked and confused because you could almost swear she wasn’t standing there before. “I lied to her about where you were that Friday, that’s why she thought you were cheating.” Jungkook’s face looked mad but his eyes looked hurt. He was betrayed by the one person he thought he could trust, and at that moment, he couldn’t bear to look at either of you. He ignored her confession, stood up and went on his way. “Wales. Hurry up, we have shit to do.” The man quickly picked up racing after he and Mel winced at the sight. “Poor Wales, he’s going to have to deal with the short end of the stick.” Your eyes went to her face, she wasn’t worried at all. “Aren’t you worried he won’t forgive you?” She smiled down at you before saying something that left you perplexed. “I hope he doesn’t.” She walked off right after leaving you with nothing but your racing mind. You grabbed a post-it-note off his table and wrote in all caps ‘PLEASE READ!!’ With a smiley face that followed, you stuck it onto the letter and left it on his desk.
Jungkook said he wasn’t going to read it, he swore to himself he wouldn’t but how could he not when the note you left alone had him missing you like crazy. Fuck it. He thought, picking up the letter angrily. Each and every word made him miss you more and it wasn’t until he read the very last reason you’d written that he realized he needed to see you. He got up quickly, it was already after hours and now that he was corporal he could basically dismiss himself. He said his farewells to the chief and drove to you as fast as (legally) possible. He didn’t go into your dorm building, he parked in front of it and leaned on his car staring at the establishment with an overactive mind. What if you didn’t want to see him? Then what? Jungkook messaged you to go outside and you read it instantly, after a couple of minutes he was worried you weren’t going to come.
Eventually, your small frame squeezed through the tiny opening of the door you managed to open, he remembered you always complaining about how the door was too heavy. “Did you read it?” He smiled at how cute you were, your optimistic eyes clearly hoped for a happy ending. He nodded and the smile you had been fighting back was beaming on your face. “Y/N, I hated it.” Your smile dropped, your face significantly sadder. “Why? Was there a typo? I was rushing so-” “You got the last reason wrong.” You furrowed your eyebrows, you remember faintly that the last reason had simply been you confessing your love to him, you didn’t understand what was wrong.
Jungkook was fishing through the pockets of his coat. “You wrote ‘Reason number 10: I love you. I know you’ve heard me say it before and I know you’re not quite there but I feel like it is a pivotal reason because I think you’re unaware of just how much I love you. P.S. it’s a lot.’ You nodded in reply, you had indeed written that but you weren’t sure what was wrong with it. “Y/N, you wrote that I didn’t love you but you are so terribly wrong.” You felt as if your heart had stopped beating and you were impatiently waiting for him to spit it out. “I love you, Y/N. I don’t know why but from that very first interrogation, I knew I had to get to know you. I’m not sure how I fell in love with you. Maybe it was your weird obsession with those cheese balls from the café that you stared at more than you ate, or your clumsiness that had you adorably tripping all the time, or how excited you got over a good report grade, or your kind, sweet, heart that forgives more than it should. You forgave me every time I screwed up and yet you didn’t expect anything from me. It’s been rough and we’ve both screwed up a lot, although I will admit it was mostly me, I realized that I would much rather exhaust myself fighting for you than rest with someone else.”
“That’s not fair!” Your voice broke in the middle of the sentence because you had started crying. Jungkook was quick to pull you into a hug. “No, baby, don’t cry. What’s not fair?” You spoke into his chest and although it was muffled it was still coherent. “How are you so good at talking?” He let out a chuckle but stopped laughing when you forced yourself out of his arms and started rubbing your cheek. “What’s wrong?” “Your vest hurt my face.” He apologized through laughter which you found mocking and he roughly pinched the cheek you were trying to soothe and you angrily slapped his hand away. “I missed you, princess.” “Well, I miss not having sore cheeks, you bully!” You were genuinely mad because the man you loved just told you he loved you back and all you could think about was how much your cheek hurt.
“But you promised!” You whined while pulling his unresponsive body back and forth. “Y/N, no.” He pulled you off of him out of annoyance but you couldn’t back down, not with so much at stake. “You promised that if I didn’t rant to you about the shows I was watching for a whole month then you would watch The Office with me!” Jungkook slowly put his laptop down on the coffee table and turned to you, holding both of your hands in his. “Baby, this may come as a shock to you but, I lied.” You sighed in frustration before angrily storming off to your room. Jungkook picked up his laptop to continuing working. Soon after he began to grow afraid of the fact that you may actually be mad at him so he put his laptop back onto the coffee table and slowly made his way to his room, he opened the door ever so slowly and peaked in to see you wrapped up in a blanket, frowning as you watched The Office on your TV.
Jungkook smiled and opened the door completely, violently unwrapping you from your self induced blanket burrito causing you to roll out off of the bed. “Oh shit, sorry.” You didn’t say a word, still evidently mad at him. “The silent treatment, over this?” Jungkook gestured at the screen looking unimpressed. “Excuse me, The Office is one of the most iconic sit-coms to ever be televised in the existence of sit-coms, you’re just uncultured.” Jungkook was having a dilemma, was he supposed to be glad you were speaking to him again or be mad over the fact that you had called him uncultured. “I just don’t understand the hype around sit-coms it’s basically the same situation over and over with different variables-” You slapped your hand onto his mouth to shut him up. “You already ruined Brooklyn 99 for me, keep this to yourself.”
After an entire year of being together, your dynamic was still yet to change. You both still acted like 12-year-old frenemies and madly in love adults simultaneously and you wouldn’t trade it for the world but in moments like such, the urge to strangle him was unbearable. “See this is why we can’t have nice things, Kook.” You folded your arms as you laid back onto the bed but Jungkook was committed to ensuring you didn’t go to bed angry. After several minutes of tense silence, the clock hit midnight and Jungkook whispered into your ear, “happy birthday, Y/N.” You tried to fight back a smile but you couldn’t no matter how hard you tried. You turned to him, smiling bitterly before whispering back, “Happy Anniversary, Jungkook.”
#jungkook#jungkook imagines#jungkook fic#jungkook smut#jungkook imagine#bts#bts fic#bts scenarios#bts imagines#bts smut
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I believe Greg’s claims that his family situation was horrible. When a grown-up man feels like he has no other choice but to run away from his family (remember, Greg was, like, 20 when he left) and then has absolutely nothing good to say about them for years and years later - that’s an indictment of the parents, not the son. They forced him into activities that had nothing to do with his actual intersts (including wrestling which can be... very unpleasant when you’re not into it), and absolutely forbade him from anything associated with the thing he actually LIKED, music. They didn’t allow him to dress and look the way he wanted and not in a “I am not letting my toddler wear the same shirt for 20 days in a row way’, in a “your son is 18 and you are still forcing him to cut his hair the way YOU want it to look”. That’s bad, that’s really bad. Greg wasn’t just sick of a ‘boring, mundane life on the suburbs with too much meatloaf’, he was suffocated in a toxic household.
And I understand why Greg was upset and defensive when Steven started with his ‘maybe your parents had a point’ thing. It must hurt to hear your son, the only family you really have in this world, defend the family you ran away from. Steven’s not thinking totally straight, he accuses Greg of keeping him away from his grandparents but he saw the stacks of unopened letters - implying that Greg has TRIED to keep in contact with them but the DeMayos were the one who refused. He’s focusing on the image of normalcy and humanity that the DeMayos house represents, on school and friends and graduations and home-cooking and adorable spoon collections - and not on Greg feeling they could never accept him and that he had to hide his most treasured possessions from his parents.
But ALSO Greg should apologize to Steven and work to be a better parent. Steven wouldn’t have been happier under an upbringing as strict and overcontrolling as the DeMayos. But Greg’s only two options weren’t “toxic overbearing ‘normalcy’” and ‘living in a van and never going to school’ - he is at fault for going into the absolute extreme opposite of his own upbringing and prehaps of projecting his own desires over Steven’s needs. Steven has told him, quite clearly, that he is upset about growing up without a stable roof over his head, about missing out on school (which both an opportunity for his future and a chance to expand his peer group and make a lot more friends), about never going to a doctor’s (nobody could guess what effect Rose’s healing powers could have on Steven’s body! Steven really lucked out that he didn’t NEED to go to the Doc for most issues, but nobody could have guessed it!) and Greg’s response was just “Yeah, but what I had was worse!”. I understand why Greg’s instincts were to go on the defensive but he is the adult and the dad and Steven is his teenage son it’s Literally His Job to be the bigger person in the argument.
And just as I consider Greg’s seemingly 100% negative feelings about the DeMayos indictment enough that they were shitty parents, then I find Steven’s mixed feelings about Greg as an indictment that Greg’s parenting has been flawed. Steven is currently a very messed up teenager, and Greg is his dad; Steven’s healthy development and happiness is his responsibility! I understand why Greg Turned Up the Way That He Did considering his background, but he is at the very least complicit in many of the Shit That Fucked Steven’s Mental State to the point that it is today. Even if I accept the idea that Steven HAD to live off-the-grid due to being a Gem (and I don’t necessarily. Yeah, his mother is a Space Alien, but his dad is a US citizen and he was born on US soil, he can have a fucking Social Security Number), Greg could have... like... tried to find some sort of structured non-Gem activity that Steven might be intersted in (we’re not going Full DeMayo here) like an afterschool class or something to give Steven a chance to develop his nonmagical skills and bond with more children his age. Which would have lowered the amount of time Steven was stuck alone in the Beach House just waiting for the Gems to come back and allowed him to develop his interpersonal skills and create a bigger support network for himself... these are things that could have really helped Steven in the long-run!
Steven opened up to Greg about his issues (and we know how hard it is to Steven to actually open up!), and what Greg ended up offering to him was more about Greg than about Steven. The message of the “Mr. Universe” song is “you can be free! You can be anything!” and that was clearly so meaningful and touching to young Gregory DeMayo, but it is the exact opposite of what Steven Universe wanted and asked for - some sort of direction and stabillity. And it’s... not the worst mistake in the world for a parent to make, to try and give your kids what YOU want rather than what THEY want, especially when you are dealing with such a complex problem as Steven has. But when you realize the You solution isn’t working... you have to process that it’s not working because they are not You and they require a change is perspective and maaaaaybe they might feel a little hurt that you were projecting on them and might want an apology or at least an acknowledgement that that’s what you were doing and that you’re going to Not Do It now?
If you are a parent and you have a child who is as messed-up as Steven is right now, that is kinda your responsibility bcause your child is your responsibility. If you have a child that is mad at you, you should at least have the self-awareness to think about what you might have done wrong. If your child literally shouts at you something that basically means “the source of all of my problems is the fact that I am your son”, then... that at least requires some self-reflection. Steven said stuff that was Dumb and Wrong and Hurtful things in this car argument, that’s true. He WOULDN’T have been happy under the thumb of parents like the DeMayos, Greg probably was justified in cutting them off, it’s not his dad’s fault that he never meant his grandparents. But inside these dumb and hurtful things there is a kernel of real frustration and hurt. And instead of acknowledging that frustration; Showing some sort of regret for not being able to give Steven a more stable and ‘normal’ home life that he now desires, promising to do better in the future, even just a “sorry I messed up, I didn’t mean to mess you up”... Greg just acts like he ignores it completely.
If your child has an outburst that they was clearly ashamed of and was clearly Pretty Unhealthy, you can’t just say “I’m proud of you, you called me out on my bullshit. And if you do, you can at least, like... acknowledge that things you were called on in any way???? Rather than just make it about yourself and YOUR upbringing and how it was much worse, which... even if ya don’t mean it, comes off as just you ‘proving’ that your parenting style IS right, because, hey! You can tell me anything! While meanwhile your kid is processing that no, he can’t tell you anything, because you are not actually doing anything useful for me right now. When your child tells you that your parenting style was bad and harmful to them, you should not immediately go into the same old routines you always do right after that???
I fear that the whole experience might have made Steven’s question Greg’s love for him, that maybe now he sees Greg’s kind and accepting nature as insincere and just as an attempt to overcompensate for his own issues. Is Greg really proud of him or does he just say it because that’s what he’s ‘supposed’ to say? But I have no doubt that Greg loves and cares for Steven a whole lot and that he raised Steven the way that he did because he thought that was the best option possible and that... the whole situation is just hard for him. Steven is dealing with a lot of issues that he never outwardly displayed to his parental figures before and it’s hard for them to adjust and to know what the right solution is. And it’s just plain easier to try and fall into your regular parenting techniques that always seemed to work before (like giving your child more ice cream and telling them their emotions are valid), rather than try and totally dismantle your approach to parenting in one evening.
It’s important to remember that Greg’s probably not in the best place right now either. Just because I think it is Greg’s responsibility as the Dad to be the bigger person in the argument and see what part of Steven’s complaints are valid... doesn’t mean it’s not also a hard thing to do when he’s also bringing up memories of Greg’s abusive childhood and saying his parents might not be all that bad. That’s gotta make it hard for Greg to think rationally about Steven’s words. And that’s not factoring in the supernatural element in which Steven’s trauma gives him Scary Dangerous Powers and Greg is the squishest, most fragile part of Steven’s family.
But it’s still Greg’s responsibility to make Steven happy and healthy, and on that day, on “Mr. Universe”, he messed that up. And I believe Steven when he says that he messed that up before too. Greg’s not a bad person, but... an apology for the missteps of parenthood is what Steven needed at that moment and what Steven was hoping for, and Greg’s inabillity to deliever it was what caused the rift in their relationship most of all. I mean... The show literally spells that Steven needs to hear some sort of ‘I’m sorry’, not just from Greg, but from all of his parental figures! Remember how “Prickly Pair” ended???
Cactus Steven is a metaphor for Meat Steven, for Cactus Steven to find peace he had to hear Meat Steven acknowledge that he hasn’t been the best parent and that he’s sorry. And it’s no coincedence that Steven has very rarely heard his parental figures apologize to him and that it has yet to happen in SUF, my prediction is that it’s gonna play some sort of part in the finale and with Steven fixing his relationship with Greg and the CGs.
#steven universe#steven quartz universe#greg universe#mr. universe#Steven universe future#prickly pair
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The Reckoners as a Metaphor for OCD
Spoilers for all three books in Sanderson’s Reckoners series, which, if you haven’t read, is excellent, and you should read.
The Reckoners trilogy takes place in a world where certain people, called Epics, have superpowers that corrupt those who wield them, making them more prone to mass murder than the average person. Power sets always come with a weakness, which the protagonist discovers is a fear, something the Epic was scared of before they gained their abilities. Most Epics avoid this fear. But, by confronting it, Epics can learn to use their powers without turning evil.
Where’s the metaphor for OCD? Well, if you know anything about OCD treatment via ERP therapy (and who doesn’t?), then the analogy is hopefully clear. If you don’t, allow me to spell it out.
What’s OCD?
Contrary to popular belief, OCD has nothing to do with cleanliness or perfection. OCD is a disorder categorized by:
Intrusive thoughts (obsession)
Strong, negative reactions to that thought
Compulsions to reduce the negative reaction (compulsion)
Oh hey, you see where the name OCD (obsessive compulsive disorder) comes from now?
Source
In the classic OCD stereotype, that might look like this:
My intrusive thought tells me the surface I touched is not clean.
I become absolutely terrified of the possibility that I am infected with salmonella and will die.
I wash my hands to convince my brain that I don’t have salmonella and won’t die.
At first, this might seem clever. Hey, you were scared, but then you took a concrete action and it made you not scared anymore! That’s great! And if the compulsion remained just a simple hand-washing, maybe it would be. Unfortunately, over time, OCD convinces you that one hand wash isn’t enough. Now it takes two to kill salmonella. Or three.
OCD obsessions and compulsions can be about absolutely anything, Here are some examples:
I saw a bat; therefore I have rabies.
I am anxious because I’m going to die of rabies.
I spent 8 hours online researching whether the bat outside gave me rabies before I am convinced that I won’t die.
What if I accidentally cheated on my boyfriend last night?
I am terrified I might’ve cheated on my boyfriend.
I ask my boyfriend every morning whether or not I cheated on him and he reassures me that I did not.
If I pick up a knife, I’ll accidentally kill my wife.
I an scared because I don’t want to kill my wife.
I refuse to touch knives, even butter knives.
That last example is called an avoidance compulsion, which is sometimes hard to spot because it’s the lack of a compulsion, though it is still detrimental. The Epics in the Reckoners series all follow the avoidance compulsion, refusing to ever interact with their fears.
OCD Treatment
I think there are two easy ways to misconceive of OCD and get the whole treatment wrong. The first is to assume intrusive thoughts are the problem and to try to get rid of them. This is what a lot of folks (myself included) assumed OCD treatment would look like. However, everyone, neurotypical folks included, has intrusive thoughts all the time. They just don’t react to them.
Another common response is to mitigate the compulsions. If you wash your hands too much, let’s get you some soap that’s softer on your hands. If it’s important for things to be clean, let’s help you clean the house twice daily. If you are worried you didn’t lock the door, take a picture so you can check later (as an aside, please don’t recommend this to people with OCD; this is called enabling a compulsion and reinforces the idea that if the door is unlocked, that’s a problem worth having a panic attack over, which it is not).
Both solutions will fail because neither addresses the actual problem, which occurs in step two. The problem is the anxiety response, not the intrusive thought and not the compulsion. It is possible to think any thought at all and not react to it.
Addressing Anxiety
Whether or not the intrusive thought is valid, the response is detrimental (if it wasn’t detrimental, you wouldn’t fit the diagnostic criteria for OCD). Treatment focuses on reducing the anxiety response by proving to your brain that the thought itself cannot hurt you. This is done through exposure response prevention therapy (ERP).
Basically, the brain is a complicated machine-learning algorithm. Every time it sees a compulsion relieve anxiety, it reinforces the idea that the compulsion is the only way to relieve anxiety. During ERP, you expose yourself to something you fear and refuse to engage in compulsions. Because the adrenaline response cannot last indefinitely, you eventually start feeling less afraid. Suddenly, your brain sees that there’s another way to get rid of the anxiety (I.e., by sitting with it). Over time, you can convince your brain that thoughts in and of themselves don’t require a reaction at all.
Source
I thought this was a post about the Reckoners
Only vaguely. I mostly wanted to talk about OCD (shh, don’t tell anyone). But, hopefully you can see some similarities now.
I see water.
I am terrified of water because it makes my powers go away and renders me weak.
I avoid water.
The Epics are all caught in a classic avoidance-based OCD obsession-compulsion loop.
But wait, I hear you cry. The Epics actually lose their powers when exposed to their weakness. Their reaction is justified.
Justified, maybe. Helpful? No. Most intrusive thoughts have a bit of truth in them. Bats can give you rabies. Rabies has as close to a 100% mortality rate as makes no odds. If you genuinely think you have rabies, you need to get a shot. Panicking about seeing a bat, however, does not help you survive rabies or make a rational decision about whether to get a rabies shot. The panic is useless.
Some OCD thoughts are completely true: in my case, I obsessed about my impending mortality. Unless I become the first immortal human (still working on that), my intrusive thought is accurate and I will die. Worrying about that now, though, is completely useless.
Similarly, the emotional reaction is interfering with the Epic’s life in a serious way. They could avoid their weakness just as well if they weren’t terrified of it. Again, the intrusive thought and compulsion aren’t what’s maladaptive here. It’s the emotional reaction.
And, when Epics face their fears head on, just as someone with OCD does during ERP therapy, the fear fades. In their case, it’s because they claim their powers and their weaknesses don’t work anymore. In the case of the OCD sufferer, it’s because the brain learns the reaction is overblown. So not only are they stuck in an obsessive-compulsive loop, it’s treated in the same way OCD is!!
So what?
As someone with OCD, I was delighted by the way facing the fear resolved the negative effects of being an Epic. I like that it portrayed the extreme fear of the weakness as a negative, even if the weakness existed. And I liked that characters didn’t ‘fight’ or argue with their weaknesses, as many people with OCD do with their intrusive thoughts. All told, rereading these books gave me new ways to think about my own OCD. I don’t think Sanderson was trying to make an OCD metaphor at all, but he made a pretty good one!
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Carrying the Moon
Chapter 19
Robbe was pissed. Rationally, he knew, Sander couldn't take him aside to explain what he and Charlotte had talked about. It would have been rude, although it was also rude to break into someone else's house, without giving all the tenants an explanation. Robbe had disappeared earlier with Hero, leaving no room or time for Charlotte to explain herself, but that situation was making him feel uncomfortable, and he needed to get out. When he put Hero to bed, he went back to the living room, and the twins seemed to have cleared things up. They were both in a good mood, laughing and joking as if nothing had happened.
Sander would always forgive Charlotte right away, and Robbe couldn't stand it. He thought that the girl would always give for granted their relationship, because, sooner or later, despite everything, he would come back to her. Robbe had seen Sander struggle for two years. He had seen his thoughts keep him awake at night and make him sick to his stomach. He stayed awake with him and cuddled him, made him some herbal teas, kept him warm in his arms, but nothing had been as effective as those twenty minutes spent with Charlotte. Sander wasn't rational when it came to her, and Robbe knew it too well.
Robbe stared at the slice of pizza on his plate, he had barely eaten. His hunger had vanished as soon as he crossed the threshold and saw Charlotte, but he tried to eat something, while the twins chatted about this and that, without paying any attention to him.
“Lucas and Jens got engaged today!” “Really?” “Yes, we were helping them to move out and suddenly Jens got on his knee.” “Move out?”
Despite everything, Charlotte was much less dramatic than she was two years ago. Her reactions were more composed. It had been odd not to see her slam her hands on the table, as soon as she discovered that her best friend was engaged. She hadn't screamed or raised her voice. The girl simply smiled and resumed drinking her diet coke.
“They live in this building now.” “I'm gonna congratulate them.” “You should go with her, Sander.”
It was one of the few things Robbe had said during that evening, and it sounded more like an order than an invitation. Sander paid attention to the tone in his fiancee’s voice, and he frowned, trying to understand what was happening, but Robbe's flat expression prevented him from reading him as easily as usual. He could imagine it was about Charlotte, so he didn't investigate any further. Sander looked at his sister, while a thousand questions began to crowd his head.
“Yeah, alright. Let's go.”
-
Charlotte had called Alice to warn her that she was in town, and she had insisted that her daughter join her in her new home to spend the night there. The girl had gladly accepted, first of all, because despite breaking into their house, she didn't want to disturb Sander and Robbe, and then she wanted to give them some privacy. She knew they needed to talk and that they were both probably waiting to be left alone to do so. So, when the girl took her things and said goodbye to her brother, Sander closed the door and went immediately to his room. Ever since Robbe had told him to go with his sister to Jens and Lucas' house, he had felt anxious. He hated arguing with Robbe, but most of all, he hated not being able to fix things right away. He needed to know what was going through his fiancee’s mind. What was hurting him. Sander found the other already in bed, and when he sat down, Robbe didn’t even look up from the laptop he had on his legs. Sander sighed, placing his head on Robbe’s shoulder.
“Talk to me, please.”
The boy closed his laptop a little too hard, but he settled down to let Sander snuggle up, and he did it immediately, of course. He took the other's hand in his own, starting to draw small circles on the back of it with his thumb.
“You can't think straight because you missed her too much.” “Meaning?” “I'm not comfortable when she's around our baby. We don't know what she wants, and you just let her in once again, as nothing happened.”
Sander wrapped his arms around Robbe's waist and gave him a feather-light kiss on his neck in an attempt to relax him. All the feelings his fiancee was having were valid and justified. It was true, that he had let Charlotte come back into their lives too easily, but she was his sister and he couldn't help but trust her. Still, he was happy to have Robbe watching his back. He felt protected.
“I understand you’re still scared, but my sister promised, she won’t do anything to hurt us.” “We can't trust her. Charlotte had always been impulsive, and she had been away for two years. You don't know her anymore.” “What do you want me to do?”
Robbe closed his eyes, sighing in frustration, and brought his hands to his temples, starting to massage them. Within a week away from their marriage, they should both have been stupidly happy. They should be focusing on their relationship. Instead, they always found themselves thinking about the same thing.
“I just wanna sign that stupid adoption papers.” “I know, but we still need to wait for you to turn 25.” “Then you should do it first. You’ll be 25 in a month.” “Robbe...” “I can't risk it. I won’t lose my son because of this.” “It won’t happen, okay? But I'll do whatever makes you happy.”
Sander sat up and hugged Robbe, pulling him close. He knew the other was feeling vulnerable at that moment, and he needed to be comforted. He put his fingers in his hair and kissed his forehead, while Robbe slipped his hands under Sander’s sweatshirt to touch his bare skin. When Robbe was feeling fragile, he always sought physical contact and Sander was glad to please him.
“I’ve never thought about us as his uncles until I saw her tonight. The truth hit me so hard I wanted to cry.”
Hearing Robbe's pain come to life in the form of those words, hurt him, because he realized that there was something deeper, than the fear that Hero would be taken away from them. Robbe's pain was linked something real, that unfortunately, couldn’t be changed, even if they wanted to, and probably one day, they would have faced it with their child, but, he was sure, they would find a way to make it as painless as possible for everyone, loving Hero as if it had been genetically their son.
“We’re his papa and his dad. Jens and Lucas are his uncles. He’s our son, we’ll legally adopt him soon. He’ll grow up so happy with us, and at some point, he’s gonna get a brother or a sister, with your doe eyes, your dimples, and your curls.”
Finally, a small smile appeared on Robbe's lips, after hearing those words. He lifted his face and looked at Sander dreamily, imagining their future together. There was still time, and it would be years before all those dreams would come true, but they both couldn't wait to live them.
“Hero is always gonna be my favorite, and I’m gonna die if he’ll look like you at 16. I won’t ever be able to say him no.”
Sander shook his head, laughing, and pressed his lips to his fiancee’s. In his heart, he hoped that Hero would take Robbe's calm and responsible personality because otherwise, they would have had a hard time dealing with the most spoiled teenager in the world.
“We're naming the next one Bowie.” “Sander, no.”
-
Robbe loved Sander more than anything, and overall, he couldn’t resist his puppy eyes. So when his fiancee asked him to let Charlotte and Hero get to know each other, he had no choice but agree. In general, things hadn't gone badly. Robbe hadn't taken his eyes off the two for a second, expecting to see who knows what atavistic bond, but nothing strange had happened. Hero had behaved as usual. He was shy at first but then he offered the girl his toys. He wasn't as obsessed with her as he was with Jens and Lucas. Whenever the two had joined him and Charlotte, Hero had devoted most of his attention to them. Thus, Robbe should have been calmer. Instead, he was sitting there, pretending to read a book, while keeping an eye on the girl and the baby. He felt stupid to feel all that jealousy, but he just couldn't help it. When he saw the girl, take Hero in her arms and make him sit on her lap, he could no longer contain himself.
“Can you stop treating him like a doll? He doesn't know you. And you don't know if he's uncomfortable being held by you like that.” “I guess he would be crying if he was uncomfortable.” “You can't just assume things.”
Charlotte let go of Hero and looked Robbe straight in the eye. She had a surprised expression on her face, that became regretful after a while. The girl sighed, biting her lip, remaining silent for a few seconds, probably looking for the right words to use in that delicate moment.
“Robbe, look, I'm not trying to do anything here. I know he's your son. I'm just trying to get to know him. He's my twin brother's son too.” “Your twin brother is about to become my husband in three days.” “What does it mean now?”
The girl raised her eyebrows, completely blown away by Robbe's response, who by now, due to the anger and frustration accumulated in the previous days, had lost all restraints. At that moment, for him, it was about Hero as well as Sander.
“You always did that, Charlotte. You claim people as your proprieties. Sander and Lucas are not 17 anymore. They are men, and they can’t run to the rescue every time you want.”
Robbe immediately regretted his words. He had probably been too harsh, even though that was exactly what he had wanted to say for years. It was the truth. Things had always been that way. Whenever Charlotte behaved irresponsibly, there was always someone ready to get her out of trouble. The last time was when she left Hero and disappeared for two years.
“I don't need to be rescued.” She said it in a barely audible voice, lowering her gaze. She stayed still for a few moments, but when she suddenly regained control of herself, that flame of pride, that was typical of Charlotte, shone in her eyes again. "Why are you attacking me like this? Tell me what’s wrong, so we can talk like adults.”
Robbe had never been so happy that Hero didn't fully understand what they were talking about, but even though neither of them raised their voices, the child sensed that something was wrong, because he kept shifting his gaze from his dad to Charlotte.
“You came back with no explanation after two years! How am I supposed to trust you, if I don’t know your plan?” “I don't have a plan. I don't even know how am I adjusting to this situation. It's weird to me as much as it is to you.” “It is very weird to me. It's making me question my role in his life.”
That sentence had come out of his mouth almost like a confession, and realizing it, the boy sighed, burying his face in his hands. He didn't like feeling that way, insecure, nervous, and fragile. He had stopped feeling like that for some time now. Robbe had left that part of himself to his adolescence, to a dark period that he would have liked to forget, but instead, it always resurfaced somehow. Charlotte rose to her feet and went to sit on the sofa next to Robbe, placing her hand on his knee and squeezing it as encouragement.
“You are his dad. That’s not in question, Robbe. It will never change. I made a choice two years ago, and I'm not regretting it. I'm happy you and Sander are his fathers. I know he has a loving family, and he's going to be safe for the rest of his life.”
Charlotte smiled softly. She had watery eyes, like Robbe, who nodded, taking the girl's hand in his own. Maybe he shouldn't have been so childish with her because, after all, he would have been eternally grateful to Charlotte and her impulsiveness. Thanks to her he had the best gift that life had given him. Hero suddenly walked over to them and pointed to Robbe with his index finger, looking the girl in the eye.
“Dad.” “Yes, baby! He's your dad! Next time you're in doubt, Robbe, remember to ask this little bean here first. After all, his opinion is the only one that matters.”
-
Robbe had been waiting for that day for years, yet at that moment, alone, in his bed, he couldn’t help but be nervous. It was the night before the wedding, and he and Sander had decided by mutual agreement to spend apart the few hours that separated them from the big day. When they had said goodbye, and Sander had left the house to go to sleep upstairs, at Lucas and Jens’, Robbe had instantly regretted that decision. The house was strangely quiet. Hero was already sleeping in his room, and Robbe didn't know what to do. Everything was ready for the small ceremony: his black suit was ironed and hung in the closet, together with his tie and shirt. He had already showered, but he felt too restless to watch a movie or read anything. He decided to make himself a relaxing herbal tea and crawl into bed, hoping to get some sleep, but the truth was that sleeping without Sander's body pressed against his was not easy at all. He changed his position for the hundredth time and snorted, pondering whether he should move to the sofa to watch some boring television program, when the bedroom door opened, revealing Sander’s figure, smiling mischievously.
“What are you doing here? You were supposed to sleep upstairs!” “I'm not superstitious, and besides, I miss you.” “We saw each other two hours ago.”
Sander closed the door behind him, turned on the little lamp on the bedside table, and slipped under the covers, pulling Robbe closer, to hold him against his body. He kissed him softly and then, just before answering, he pouted adorably.
“I know, but I'm too happy about tomorrow and I needed to share my excitement with you.” “You're cute.”
Robbe cupped Sander’s face with both of his hands, to look him in the eye. In just a few hours, he would become a husband for that man in front of him, and he couldn’t believe his luck. That smart, caring, talented, sweet, loud, soft, handsome man. His best friend. The love of his life. The father of his son. His soulmate. They had grown up together, hand in hand, and in a few hours, they would have sworn eternal love in front of everyone.
“You okay, angel?”
Sander smiled slightly, pushing away the hair from the other’s forehead, holding his gaze, until Robbe nodded, pressing theirs together. He reached out to turn off the light on the nightstand and straddled Sander, pulling off his shirt. He left a trail of wet kisses on his chest, going up towards the neck, while the other sighed heavily, bending his head to leave Robbe room. Sander slipped both hands under the elastic of his fiancee's boxers and squeezed his butt, pushing his hips upwards at the same time, in search of some friction. Robbe let out a moan and pressed the last kiss on the soft spot behind Sander's ear.
“I want you.”
-
Robbe woke up shivering, feeling the cold air hit his bare skin. Still, with her eyes closed, he reached out for Sander's warm body, whimpering when he felt the other side bed empty. He slowly opened his eyes to find Sander sitting on the edge of the bed, putting on the sweatpants that had been hurriedly thrown on the floor the night before, along with the rest of their clothes.
“Where are you going?”
Sander turned his face and looked over his shoulder, giving Robbe a bright smile.
“Sorry I didn’t mention earlier, but I have to get married in a few hours.” “Too bad. I hope he's handsome.” “Yeah, he is. He has the prettiest doe eyes and the cutest dimples.”
Robbe smiled, slipping almost completely under the covers, too cold to try to be the least bit sexy. He let out from his warm shelter only his head, and his fiancee reached out to caress her hair.
“Tell me again why we decided to go there separately.” “I promise it's gonna be worth it, Robbe.” “Yeah, you told the same thing about sleeping apart the night before the wedding.”
Sander laughed and leaned towards his fiancee to kiss his lips one last time. He was thrilled at the thought that the next time he saw Robbe, he would become his husband. But leaving that bed was being a torture. He kissed Robbe’s lips again, then the tip of his nose, cheek, and forehead. He stood up and felt butterflies in his belly, looking at the beautiful man in front of him.
“Can't wait to see you there. I love you.” “I love you too.”
-
Jens watched his best friend get up from the couch for the tenth time in less than five minutes, fixing the knot of his tie, which was already perfect. He stood up too and walked over to Robbe, placing a hand on his shoulder, trying to calm him down a bit. The dressing room was quiet and the tension could be cut with a knife.
“How are you?”
He asked looking at Robbe through the mirror. They had never been so stylish, both wearing tight black suits. Their hair was strangely in order, especially Robbe’s, who had been resisting for hours the urge to stick his fingers inside it, as he did whenever he was nervous. As soon as Sander was gone, he felt his anxiety building up. Luckily he'd had to take care of Hero, otherwise, he would surely have a panic attack. When Alice had come to take the child, Jens had immediately joined him.
“I’m on the verge of crying since I showered this morning. I’ve never been this emotional in my entire life.”
Jens smiled, trying to imagine how he would feel on his wedding day. Since he had proposed to Lucas a week ago, they had started talking about it all the time and he was tempted to drag his fiancee somewhere to get married in secret, but that morning, that thought had become terribly irresistible.
“I'm happy to be here by your side right now. I'm thinking about the first time we met, and now you're about to get married.” “Jens, you're not helping. At all.”
Robbe looked away from the mirror, looking for something to distract himself, but nothing seemed tempting enough. He wished he had a drink to calm himself down, but at the same time, he wanted to be completely sober and remember every second of that day. When there was a knock on the door, Robbe immediately turned himself to see his mother's face peeking out. He smiled warmly and walked over to hold her in a tight hug. He was happy to have her there. She had told him, she would never miss his wedding but they both knew her health conditions could change within hours.
“You look handsome, honey.” “Thanks, mama.” “I met Sander while I was coming here, he was over the moon.” “I can't wait to see him.”
The two released the embrace and then the woman greeted Jens in the same way. She seemed really calm and serene, and Robbe couldn’t help but feel a warm wave of joy in his chest. During the darkest times of his adolescence, he would never have imagined finding his soul mate, let alone getting married and being surrounded by people who would accept him and shower him with love, including his mother.
“I'm gonna see if Sander is ready to go.”
Jens left his best friend and his mother alone to talk in Robbe's quiet and peaceful room, to enter Sander's, where the situation was completely different. Sander, who was sitting dramatically in a chair, held his head in his hands as utter chaos surrounded around him. Charlotte and Lucas played with Hero, making him scream in amusement, while Alice and Theo, Sander's father, were discussing something, sipping champagne. Jens approached Lucas to kiss his cheek, and Sander, who had only noticed Jens' presence at that moment, raised his head.
“Lucas, can you stop checking your fiancee's butt?” “Sorry, can't help.” “Butt.”
Hearing Hero say that word, the room fell into dead silence and everyone began to look into each other's eyes, only to burst out laughing immediately afterward. Sander rolled his eyes, exasperated.
“Awesome. A nice new word! Perfect to scream today during the ceremony, right?” “Sander, calm down. Why are you freaking out all of a sudden?”
Charlotte frowned, alarmed by her brother's strange behavior. Everyone expected to see the boy full of energy and happiness, but at that moment he had a black cloud over his head.
“I just wanna see him. I need him to stay grounded, but I can't right now because I'm supposed to go out first and wait for him.” “Just stop with this. You guys should walk there together with your baby. That’s how you and Robbe always did everything. Together.”
Sander looked his sister in the eye and nodded. Suddenly it all made more sense. Being apart had always been a mistake for the two of them, and it had never led to anything good. It wasn’t the right time to start changing things. The boy took Hero in his arms and walked out the door, quickly crossing the hallway, entering Robbe's room without knocking. When he saw him, Sander gasped feeling his knees give in and his head spin, because everything clicked. In a few minutes, he was going to marry the love of his life. He put Hero on the floor, who immediately ran to hug his dad, and closed the door behind him, leaning against it, trying to save in his memory, the image of Robbe at that moment. He was just perfect.
“Sander? What are you doing here?” “Robbe, you look-” “Don't you dare. I'm holding my tears since this morning.”
Robbe pointed his index finger at the other for a few seconds, looking him in the eyes, until Sander made the gesture of closing his lips with an invisible zipper, then Robbe smiled at him, shaking his head. He took Hero up and went to his fiancee, cupping his cheek with his hand, smiling softly at him. Both of them were emotional and had watery eyes. They lost a few minutes, savoring each other with their gaze. It was one of the best moments of their life and they both wanted to enjoy it and acknowledge their own emotions. Sander tilted his head towards Robbe's hand and closed his eyes, feeling more relaxed. He was still amazed by how his body reacted to the other’s presence. As soon as Robbe entered his orbit, it was as if something inside him knew that everything would be fine.
“I was freaking out without you, and Charlotte suggested we should walk out together with Hero because that’s the only way we work.” “I'm happy your sister is smarter than us.” “Me too.” “You're stunning, by the way. Although, I can't wait to take your black suit off tonight.”
They smiled and Sander wrapped his arms around Robbe's waist, resting his head on his shoulder and looking Hero in the eye. The baby had calmed down too, as soon as his dad had picked him up. Perhaps there was really something in the Driesen's DNA that made them react that way in Robbe’s presence. Sander wished he had a button to fast-forward the whole ceremony and party. He wanted to be alone with the love of his life. A little drunk on wine, happiness, and tiredness, with loose ties, half-unbuttoned shirts, tight in each other's hug, dancing to an imaginary song, in their bedroom. What he wanted most from that day wasn't the celebration, but the way he knew he and Robbe would feel closer, like they belonged to each other a little more, for the rest of their lives.
That idyll in Sander's mind was interrupted by a knock on the door behind him, and Lucas's voice brought him back to reality.
“It's time!”
Robbe offered him the most breathtaking smile ever. He took his shaky hand and squeezed it in his own. Sander didn't know how he could get through the whole ceremony, given the way he was already feeling. He wanted to tell Robbe everything he had in his mind and heart. He wanted to tell him that he loved him, that he was happy, that he was the luckiest man on earth. That growing up with him had been the best thing that happened to him. He wanted to thank him for teaching him love. For becoming his family. For every gesture, and every word that had saved him from his darkest moments. For always keeping his heart safe, for forgiving him, and for always making him feel at home. For making him feel truly himself. He wanted to tell him all of that and a billion other things more, but he knew his voice would fail him as soon as he tried to say more than two words, so he said the one thing, that could sum up every day of their past, present and future life.
“Together?” “Together.”
[previous] / [epilogue]
#wtfock fic#sander driesen#robbe ijzermans#robbe x sander#jens stoffels#lucas van der heijden#chapter 19#carrying the moon
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Chrysanthemum I
If there was one thing you hated from traveling it was the jet lag. You didn’t feel it during the duration of the twelve-hour flight, it did feel strange when you arrived at France technically the same day you left. The city of lights lived up to its glory at night, their brilliance visible from the moment you entered the countries borders in the air. You were a little tired but refused to sleep knowing you would arrive at night. Sleep schedules were not something to mess with, especially come sun rise; when your new job would truly begin. Charles de Gaulle Airport fit right in with the rest of the French scenery: blending in perfectly with the old bourgeoise architecture yet modern society that thrived in it. A sense of wanderlust overcame you, a little bounce in your step. You hoped this would be the beginning of something grandeurs. A new adventure. At the very least, you wanted to make new memories. Who knows this may be the start of something? As you were nearing the exit, a tall burly man dressed in a suit stood out from the rest wielding a sign that reads your name. “Ms. Y/l/n?” You quickly nodded presenting him with the id you had been emailed by Big Hit. He glanced over it once, took your bag, and swiftly walked away. He guided you to the car, opening the door, allowing you to get comfortable before closing it and loading up your luggage in the back.
You began to wonder if all Big Hit staff was trained in the same way; for you tried your best to exchange pleasantries with the man, but he wasn’t interested at all. He didn’t even look you in the eyes which were unnerving. Once inside the car, the man dialed someone likely to inform them of your arrival. His actions perturbed you so much that you were about to text your fiancé until you recalled the roaming charges. Damn capitalism with the need to put a price on everything. The thirty-minute ride dragged on so long you were finding it rather difficult to stay awake. Sightseeing would have distracted you if there was anything to see. The security man had taken a rather bland back road where there were little buildings here and there; everything sort of blending into each other. Not to mention most businesses were closed at this hour. You justified the route as a precaution just in case someone decided to tail the car, but when the car did a sudden U-turn and sharp right, you were just about ready to jump out right there and then. Finally, you returned to civilization the security man pulled up to the stunning hotel. A valet rushing to take the vehicle and open the door. Thanking them, you stepped out and proceeded to grab your luggage. You turned to thank the security man for escorting you safely, but he simply shoved a large envelope into your hands. “In here is all the information you need. Please text the number at the bottom to inform them of your arrival to the room. Have a good evening Miss.” A word was barely uttered from your mouth before he simply turned around sauntering away.
The lobby was overseen by one receptionist and a doorman, who both greeted you as soon as you walked in. You tried your best to be amicable but the heaviness of your limbs and lack of sleep fogged your mind, had you said ‘have a good evening’ or ‘pretty smile’? It didn’t matter. What mattered was the sweet scent of chrysanthemum that enveloped your senses the second you entered the elevator. It steered you in a sense, your finger pressing the top floor, unbeknownst to you. When the doors opened instead of being greeted with a long corridor, it was a ballroom of sorts that lay before you. The golden accents and paintings depicting high French society would have been beautiful in the daylight, but at night they looked harrowing. The top floor was so high up, very little of the city’s brilliance reached it causing dark contours throughout the room. Something drew you out of your thoughts: it was Bach’s Well-Tempered Clavier being played on the piano. Its calm alluding nature always relaxed you but for some reason, your body reacted differently this time: the hairs on your body raised, the heart began to pound, and your stomach dropped. There was an overwhelming emotion consuming you and you couldn’t understand why. Not until the person playing the piano abruptly paused to stare at you; eyes widening when they did.
“Y/n?!”
“If you had lived a different life what would you have wanted to become?” You asked gazing up into the blue sky riddled with large white clouds. He shifted beside you, staring at you with a confused expression. Once you saw he didn’t intend on replying you turned to face him. “I’m just saying. If you were to have another chance at life, what would you want to do with it?” You were treading along a very fine line, but this could be what it takes to get him to open up to you more. He simply rolled his eyes, deciding to gaze back at the sky. You huffed disappointed but not exactly sure in what, it was when you moved to stand up that he gripped your wrist. “I would want to do music,” He sat up grabbing a hold of your chin. “None of that would matter if I don’t get to have you beside me in my next life.” Playfully you shoved his shoulders, “I’m no one of importance.” A dark look crossed his face when you said that, but it quickly disappeared. “Of course, you’re important…you’re my soulmate [y/n].”
Kyungsoo couldn’t shake the feeling that something was wrong. He had felt it yesterday when you had woken up beside him, but he assumed it was nerves since this was an important interview. Only they hadn’t gone away when you had received the job. Truthfully, they had intensified. He could rationalize that it was the idea of no longer having you at home, the breaking of a routine, that was throwing him off. That was easy to accept and easier to get over. It wasn’t the way you had tossed and turned all night, nearly kicking him off the bed. It wasn’t the fear in your eyes when he’d woken you up. Nor was it the strangeness of you having to leave to another continent for a job you’d had for less than twenty-four hours. The problem wasn’t you – it was him. So he didn’t want to cause any more problems and simply dove into his work, until the scent of a particular flower had him running out of his office scaring his secretary who had just walked in. “Nancy, did you put chrysanthemums in my office? Or are you wearing perfume or something?” The young woman was confused, “No sir. I know you’re allergic to them plus I don’t wear flowery perfume it goes away in an instant.” Kyungsoo had never been allergic to anything his entire life, he was a strong athletic kid. The second he began to date you though he developed a severe allergic reaction to those specific flowers. The two of you had discovered this when he wanted to buy you a bouquet only to have his airway close upon him, the second he touched them.
It never happened with any other flowers; just chrysanthemum. Once he was sure the smell had faded – after he ordered Nancy to open up all the windows – he walked back into his office. Sitting in his chair he glanced at a framed picture of the two of you on a date: your hair tied up as you dressed in a heavy coat, smiling brightly at the camera as he stared lovingly at you. A soft smile spread across Kyunsoo’s face before he returned to his work. Everything would turn out fine. He was sure of it.
“Are you sure it was her?!” Jimin probed, his tone filled partly with excitement and partly with disbelief. Yoongi let out an exasperated sigh, he was hunched over with his elbows resting on his knees. Even in the low lighting, he could recognize you instantly, it was your scent, the way you carried yourself. There were so many things that set you apart, he was sure it was you. “If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t have told you asshats about it.” Hoseok who was sitting next to him, rubbed his back trying to ease him. “Did she recognize you?” Hoseok asked quietly, if it was you then maybe they had another opportunity. The heavens had finally decided to smile down at them. Jungkook was unable to contain his excitement, his foot trembling anxiously. “This is what we’ve been waiting for. It’s like what Hobi-hyung and I witnessed.” The youngest couldn’t wait to see you, to get his hands on you...he had waited so long. Jimin who was leaning against the wall stepped forward addressing everyone. “So that means she’s back. That means we can finally-” He was interrupted by Yoongi who finally answered the question. “She ran the second I called out for her.” The spirit in the room dropped significantly, all the elation disappearing. The heavy silence hung on all their shoulders, yet none dared to shatter it, afraid that when it did the glass would pierce their fragile hearts. Until someone did, “What are the odds?” Taehyung’s voice was barely above a whisper, but it held so much weight. Namjoon glanced around the room seeing the crushed looks on his brothers’ faces. It was all too much for him, the disappointment transforming into something else. “Exactly. What are the odds of this happening again? One in million. What are the odds of her not remembering us? Zero to none.” He declared, standing up from the chair he had been sitting on.
“It doesn’t matter what the odds are. What matters is that she’s returned to us.” There was no way Namjoon would allow you to slip through their grasp again. “Namjoon’s right we need to take advantage of this situation,” Seokjin spoke, his eyes peering across the room. Everyone silently agreeing. “We could bring her to us. She found Yoongi, so something must be drawing her here. The way it does to us.” Jimin couldn’t wait to see you, to hold you, to kiss you. It was decided then. “Tomorrow, we have a day off. Let’s do it then.” Taehyung suggested, he knew the sooner they got their hands on you the better. “Agreed. Tomorrow we find her, even if it means tearing the city apart.”
You don’t recall what happened after you ran away from the stranger in the ballroom. It was as if your body reacts before your mind did and you knew the flight was the appropriate response. You don’t recall but somehow you ended up in your hotel room, crashing on the clean cotton sheets. The alarm clock next to you, informing you it was currently seven in the morning. You would have continued staring at the red electronic numbers if it wasn’t for the quiet ‘ding’ that came from your cellphone. Groggily you crawled over to the left side of your bed, reaching over to grab the device. There were a few notifications but the one that caught your eye was one from an unknown number. Opening it up you saw two messages: first, an introduction and welcome to ‘the Big Hit family.’ The second, the one that had you bolting out of bed and heading straight for the shower, was a message explaining that Bangtan Sonyeondan would be waiting to formally meet you in their penthouse at exactly seven-thirty. You sped through your routine and managed to look decent, even with the minimal makeup you had applied. Settling for the first outfit you saw in your carry on, you got dressed and grabbed your phone. Making it to the elevator with five minutes to spare.
No word in any of the various languages you spoke could describe the intense mixture of anxiety, fear, and intimidation you felt standing outside those wooden doors. They were quite large and menacing and the scent the room emitted was one that had haunted you since yesterday morning. Perhaps that’s their favorite flower or something. The clock on your phone notified you that it was exactly 7:29:36 but you were still waiting until it was exactly seven thirty – as if the extra seconds would allow you to regain some control over yourself. You took a deep breath and released a long sigh, “Come on, you can do this.” You raised your hand to knock on the door, but it was ripped open by a man you distinctly recognized. “Good morning, I’m the new translator.” Sejin, stood at the door briefly gazing up and down at you before quirking an eyebrow and smiling. “Hello. Just in time, do come in we’re all excited to meet you.” Stepping to the side to allow you to come in, all that you needed to do was step over the threshold and your fate would be sealed – not that you knew that of course.
The second you entered the room, it was like last night all over again, the seductive aroma completely engrossing you. There was a couple of staff in the room: managers, organizers, and the infamous Lee Nayoung. None of them mattered to you stared past them at the group of seven men who had all turned to face you. Their faces displaying various expressions: shock, glee, remorse, want. But simultaneously all their lips grew into a sinister smirk. A dark feeling began to sprout inside your head as you felt the ungovernable desire to go to them. Immediately you cooled your emotions, stepping forward to greet them all. “Hello, my name is [y/n] [y/l/n] and I’ll be your new translator as of today.”
#bts#yandere bts#bts au#bts x reader#yanderebts#ot7 x reader#bts ot7#yandere namjoon#yandere seokjin#yandere yoongi#yandere hoseok#yandere jimin#yandere taehyung#yandere jungkook#kim namjoon x reader#kim seokjin x reader#jeon hoseok x reader#min yoongi x reader#park jimin x reader#kim taehyung x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#bts fanfic#yandere kpop#tumblr writers#drabbles#dark#yandere#girlmeetsliv3#chrysanthemum
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Ben/Five OTP Meme?
Hey Bee! I know you've been requesting lots of OTP Meme asks and I know I made you wait a long time but I am answering them now!
(I promise, I may be super slow but if any of you ever send an ask - whether it's just a question or a request for a fic - I will answer that at one point. I like doing these things!)
But anyway, you wanted Ben/Five for the old ask meme, but I'm gonna do both because you waited for so long!
So...let's begin!
Which one sexts like a straight white boy?
Five is a grandpa. Five is also a gremlin.
Texting with Five is a bit like russian roulette, either you get proper punctuation and full sentences or you just get keysmashes and some random words.
It mostly depends on the time of day and how much sleep Five got.
Which is more now that Ben actually makes both of them have a somewhat normal sleep schedule.
(Ben's trick is to just cuddle Five and fall asleep on them because as much as Five likes to complain, they never jump away, not wanting to wake Ben. Which mostly results in them falling asleep too).
But sexting? Never.
Ben could sext - Ben and Klaus definitely made fun of all the weird fuckboy messages Klaus got - and still gets - from hook ups or guys who somehow got his number - and if there's social media - who saw his profile and just decided they needed to 'tap that'.
So Ben knows what sexting like a straight white boy would entail. But whereas he would totally do that within other pairings - for example with Allison or Vanya - I don't think it would be much use with Five.
(Although Five is fucking easy. Always pretending to be so calm and collected but turning into a whiny little mess when Ben pushes their buttons.
It's just nicer to be present during, to see just how affected Five gets, how riled up by some light touching and sweet talk).
Not to derail this but Five would love pet names. Ben usually doesn't use them but depending on how needy Five is, it just seems to slip out, the 'Baby' already on his lips when he sees the way Five holds onto him, face pressed into his shoulder.
Five is rather clingy, especially on days where they feel more on edge, maybe cause of a nightmare, maybe because they had a flashback about being stuck in the apocalypse again. All alone. Trying to get back to their family.
(Maybe they thought about how when they got back, the one who was missing still was Ben, how all of their calculations didn’t actually help to get back to all of them-)
….But let’s at least try to stay light-hearted here, lmao.
Which one cried during a fucking Disney Movie?
Did you know? I check the stuff I've already written for this ask meme and check what I said about certain characters so I at least stick to my own 'canon'.
And I remember that I was talking about Ben before (in the Luther/Ben/Vanya ask) and it was rather depressing all round.
To answer the question: I would see neither of them as big criers but if anything, Five would cry during disney movies.
Disney Movies can be incredibly heartbreaking (especially Disney Pixar) but I feel like both Ben and Five are not easy criers.
Like I said before in the Luther/Ben/Vanya thing, Ben feels rather detached from his emotions after coming back to life. There's just…some kind of disconnect.
He still feels - he can love after all - but sometimes he sees things and he knows 'I should probably react to this' but he just….doesn’t.
Because he doesn't feel anything. Not in that moment anyway.
Maybe he doesn't even see the sense in intentionally watching things to make yourself cry - something Luther and Klaus do - because Life is already pretty shitty, why be sad over a movie?
(But maybe there's also some jealousy in that statement, an underlying: "How can it be so easy for you to show your emotions? How can feel so much all the time?")
On the other hand, I can totally see Ben getting overwhelmed by being alive again, although I think he’d react mostly to physical stimuli? Like, when he was around Klaus he heard and saw stuff so he’s used to that, but touch?? That would definitely be too much for him sometimes.
It would be windy outside and he’d refuse to go out because he couldn’t take the wind hitting his skin and blowing into his face.
Or he’d get self-conscious about being seen by so many people and just need some time to himself, since he isn’t used to actually being perceived by people other than Klaus - and other ghosts.
(Maybe he’d even miss his ghost friends, who knows).
And because I love to ramble and overthink things, I believe that maybe being dead amplified most of the bad emotions he has?
I mean, why do ghosts turn into poltergeists?
I like to think that at some point they seem to forget who they are or at least forget all the good memories they have in life and just cling to the bad ones, which makes them turn bitter and vengeful.
But that always depends on the story you’re telling and we don’t know much about the ghosts aside from them being pretty reasonable in the motel scene but mostly scary in the mausoleum scene (which could also simply be Klaus misremembering and mistaking their cries for help as them being evil and angry, since he was about 9).
And Ben as a person (as little as we see of him actually having a character) seems to be rather bitter. So maybe he would have to pay extra close attention to his thoughts and feelings to not get stuck in a circle of negativity and self-doubt again.
But anyway, crying because he gets overwhelmed when he’s out and there’s a bunch of people, brushing up to him while they walk past and looking at him and maybe even talking to him and he doesn’t know how to handle it so his body tries to relieve the stress by crying? Yes.
Him getting emotional over that one scene in UP? Not very likely.
Five on the other hand has seen lost of things. Lots of things that are probably rather gory and fear-inducing, since they worked as a killer and since Hazel and Cha-Cha don’t only murder but also torture people for the commission - something Five most likely had to do too in their job.
I think they rationalized a lot of things? Like, they see the things they did as justified since they were working towards a greater good - getting back to their family and by association, saving the world, even though that wasn’t their main goal - and I can see them repressing some things in order to be able to keep functioning.
(That’s gonna be a hell of a breakdown once they have some time to breathe and work through their issues).
And since Five has already experienced some rather gory stuff it seems a little weird that they would cry over things as simple as Mufasa dying?
That’s an animated Lion who speaks, Five has seen real people die - has killed real people - please, as if that’s gonna bother them.
But sometimes some things will strike a nerve. Especially if it’s about families. Especially if it’s about reuniting with your family. And being alone for a long time.
They would never admit it, but sometimes Ben can see them rubbing their eyes out of the corner of his eye. Ben doesn’t comment on it either - because he knows Five would probably be too proud to admit it - but he does let Five cuddle up to him.
(Sometimes he cracks some bad jokes until Five snorts and lightly hits his chest).
And just to add an afterthought of mine: Five doesn’t say anything, but none of them watch horror movies during movie night if Five is present. They all know that Five would say they aren’t bothered by it, but it’s just nicer when they can watch something without Five being tense and looking more at the floor than the tv when the bad guy gleefully chops off fingers and kills women and kids.
The Hargreeves may never talk, but they do care, okay?
No Horror movies - or movies that have bad guys that sound too much like the commission - for Five, no stuff involving close ups of needles and medical procedures for both Diego and Luther, and absolutely nothing involving romance for a while there, be it a nice romcom or something about emotional manipulation.
(They tried watching a romcom once, but the tv exploded the moment the main guy was explaining his undying love for the girl and trying to get her to move in with him. Vanya never apologized for that, but Diego just declared that the movie had been shit anyway).
At this point they mostly stick to reality tv stuff and even there, they end up arguing more often than not.
Remember me saying that I would try to keep this light-hearted? I’m sorry, lmao.
Who put a goddamned fork in the microwave?
BEN.
All of us talking about how Ben has the only brain cell in the family like he wasn’t about to try and catch a bowling ball with his skinny frame and bare hands (has anyone ever thrown a bowling ball at you? I don’t think you can catch that without breaking your toe).
Also his little ‘wee’! Him winking at Klaus like Klaus isn’t currently being tortured.
Ben may possess a brain cell but most of the time he politely ignores it and just does whatever the hell he wants.
(I mean, he’s already dead, why bother being cautious and taking a step back to think for a second? How is that any fun??)
Which may not be the best outlook on life once he’s alive again.
He will put a fork in the microwave. Then he will stay in front of the microwave and wait for something to happen - with some ice cream because who knows how long he’ll stay there? He needs snacks.
And he’ll loudly complain to Five when nothing happens (because depending on the metal, it’s possible that nothing happens) and Five - like the good partner they are - will add some wax paper to the whole thing so the whole microwave goes up in flames.
Because who said Five can’t use their knowledge for some fun?
And the two of them will just watch until someone else will enter the kitchen (probably Diego) and lose their shit.
Diego: “The fuck are you doing!”
Five: “I know, I already told Ben that too much ice cream can cause brain freeze.”
Diego, frantically looking for a way to save the kitchen from burning down: “THAT’S WHAT YOU’RE WORRIED ABOUT”
(Diego totally rats them out and Ben and Five steal his dessert for at least a week).
In general the Ben/Five dynamic is:
Ben: “I’ll do this reckless thing because I have no self-preservation.”
Five: “I’ll help because I like wrecking havoc. But as soon as there’s even the slightest scratch on you, I’ll passive-aggressively dote on you.”
Ben: “Deal.”
(Ben: *obvious baby, secret gremlin*/Five: *obvious gremlin/secret baby*)
Who does the silly hands-over-the-eyes “Guess who” thing?
I love how I’m all lovey-dovey with other couples but these two just behave like disaster children half the time.
None of them do this.
Ben will approach Five and just slump down on top of them because Five is great for naps and cuddles.
Five will stand somewhere, arguing with Luther over some science (and pretending they know more astrophysic than an actual astronaut because they simply are like that) and Ben will just press up against them and steal Five’s coffee.
(Ben is the only one who’s allowed to do that without serious repercussions. Him and maybe Vanya).
Five will see Ben sitting somewhere, reading a book and just plop down in his lap like a cat.
Ben: “Wha-”
Five: “I live here now.”
Tbh, you rarely see them not together?
The two of them are the only members of the family where it would be rather...odd if they were to work somewhere or start a career - depending on whether the outside world sees them as dead/missing still or whether they somehow changed that through time travel - so they spend a lot of time at home.
Five could probably do some online courses if it’s a reality with internet and Ben doesn’t plan on doing any kind of work for the next fucking decade. They got enough cash from the academy merchandise, he’s planning on living the rest of his life blowing that money.
(Luther: Isn’t there anything you would like to do with you li-”
Ben: Did you die, Luther? Did you die??”)
Ben: “I will sleep lots and have Mum bake cookies for me for the rest of my life.”
Five: “I support you, baby.”
(Jokes aside, Five probably includes Ben in calculations of moving away or paying rent or whatever and is rather positive that they’ll be able to support them both - in case they a. Don’t wanna touch Reggie’s blood money - something Diego does, since he refuses to be dependent on the old man - or b. There isn’t much money to begin with, or it’s mostly used for keeping the academy or something).
So the two of them can just happily cling to each other for the rest of their lives and Ben can nap in Five’s lap while Five is pulling another all-nighter working on this or that (Ben refused to go to bed without them and tried to stay awake with them, but Five knows Ben falls asleep within seconds if you card your hands through his hair).
Who puts their cold hands/feets on their partner?
Both. It's war.
Ben is cold overall - which maybe, just maybe could come from the fact that he’s been dead before - and Five always has cold hands for whatever reason.
It starts because Five hugged Ben from behind and sneaked their hand under his sweater and Ben proceeded to fucking jump and wiggle out of Five’s grip.
Which was definitely an interesting enough reaction, Five had to do it a few more times.
Ben loves wearing his hoodies, but they’re slightly too big which means Five can easily put their hand down Ben’s back and Ben hates it.
(He never tells Five to stop though, so Five thinks it’s still fair game).
In return, Ben will definitely push his cold feet against Five’s side when they’re in bed and hold them close enough Five can’t wiggle away.
Five always glares at him but endures it.
Most of the time, Ben holds Five’s hands between his own while he’s pressed up to Five, as kind of an apology, to warm them up.
(Five keeps glaring but kisses his cheek, so Ben doesn’t think they’re really mad).
Who had that embarrassing Reality TV marathon?
Both.
Ben probably watched some ridiculous dating show and Five sat down next to him with the sole purpose of making fun of him but instead ended up being invested themself.
Couple on tv: *breaks up*
Five, on the edge of their seat: “No! They’re meant for each other! Paul just has to work more on his self-esteem! Back me up here, Ben!”
Ben, who mostly watches precisely to see the couples break up: “Jennifer deserves better.”
Cue, a half an hour long rant from Five’s side about how Ben has no idea what true love is while Ben tries his hardest not to laugh.
Ben, after Five has been talking non-stop for twenty minutes: “You done?”
Five, reaching for the popcorn on Ben’s lap: “Pretty much, yeah.”
(The two of them also watch soap operas but most of the time, Luther watches with them. Diego too, but he always claims he only watches to make fun of them, even though he keeps on hushing them when they talk during emotional scenes).
Who laughs more during sex?
Neither (I don’t know where my dislike for laughing during sex comes from but I rarely ever say that there’s laughter when this question is asked).
I think it also depends a little on the mindset? Ben is in control - no question there, Ben’s the one in charge because Five needs someone safe they can be needy and vulnerable with.
But sometimes Five wants to play a little - says ‘Why should I?’ when Ben tells them to kneel, smiles cheekily and shakes their head when Ben tells them to behave.
On those days, there’s more tension. Even though both of them know that Five is only pushing boundaries a little, that they still wanna be needy and good for Ben, the air is a little more charged and Ben is firmer, more demanding when he tells Five to ‘Get your ass over here, now’.
(Five? Intentionally being a brat? Never).
But there’s also days when Five doesn’t wanna challenge Ben. Just wants to be soft and good and taken care of.
And if there’s any laughter involved, it’s on those days, Five smiling and giggling when Ben kisses their face over and over and humming when Ben tells them how good they are being for him.
(Also Five jumping away whenever Ben tries to pull them towards him? Laughing while Ben chases them down the hallway? Only to plop up right in front Ben and put their arms around his neck, kissing him straight on the mouth, still smiling? Good shit).
Who is the little spoon?
They switch!
Although Five prefers to just burrow into Ben’s side like a cat, one arm around Ben’s stomach and their head pressed against his rips, while Ben rubs their back.
Ben also likes to hold Five with the Bentacles!
He’s usually more hesitant about letting them out while he’s out - and therefore unable to control them - but Five has never once seemed afraid of them and keeps encouraging Ben to let them out more - in non-lethal situations especially.
So Ben’s rather comfortable letting them wrap around Five while Five’s sprawled out on top of him.
(And maybe the Bentacles are much more quiet and well-behaved if they’re allowed to cuddle with Five, but don’t tell them. Five would only be all smug about it).
That was the first bunch of OTP questions! I’m not 100% in love with it but with how much I tend to ramble, I hope there’s something in there that will please you!
But if not, there’s still the second set!
Who accidentally pushes a door instead of pulling/vice versa?
Five.
They are both major dumbasses and Five will definitely try to be smooth and jump in front of Ben to open the door for him and just...stand there for a second, pulling at a push door like an idiot while smirking at Ben.
Ben usually laughs at him and pushes the door open himself.
Ben doesn’t do the push/pull mistake because Ben doesn’t try opening the door at all.
When he’s still tired or deep in thought, he forgets he isn’t dead anymore and just walks into the door.
Five will laugh at Ben and then immediately jump away to avoid being either hit or grabbed by a Bentacle.
Who doodles little hearts all over the desk with their initials inside them?
Five.
Five is a doodler in general. They help them think.
Amidst all the equations and notes they make, there’s just different stuff they scribbled down.
Stars or a flower here or there but mostly abstract things that came to be while they let their thoughts drift and their hand move.
And even if there aren’t any hearts or love declarations, more often than not, Ben’s name is somewhere on the paper. Maybe in a corner, or on the side, sometimes even in the middle.
Oftentimes Five writes his name and then just keeps tracing it with a finger while they are thinking and it makes Ben smile when he sees it.
Who starts the tickle fights?
Ben.
Ben will start a tickle fight over anything. He wants to switch channels? Tickle Fight. He wants attention? Tickle Fight. He’s bored? Tickle Fight.
It’s probably not his best idea, since he’s the more ticklish one of the two (He’s rather sensitive to touch).
He knows a secret though: Five’s weak spot.
(It’s their neck).
Five doesn’t even stop squirming when Ben’s kissing their neck - being extra careful while doing so, of course.
But the hard part is to get to Five’s neck since as soon as Ben is launching an attack, Five’s already jumping away.
(And most of the time reappearing on Ben’s back, pushing him down and digging their fingers into Ben’s sides until he surrenders, letting himself fall into the pillows and letting Five stretch out on top of him).
They end up watching whatever Five wanted to see 8 out of 10 times.
Luther: “Have you ever considered….maybe not starting a tickle fight you know you’ll lose?”
Ben: “You just don’t get it, Luther.”
Who starts the pillow fights?
Five.
Mostly because if Ben were to throw a pillow after Five, they’d either a. jump away or b. complain about it.
Ben: *throws a pillow because Five’s ignoring him*
Five: “Oh, I see how it is. I mean nothing to you, do I? Glad to know that you think so little of me and our relationship.”
Whereas if Five throws a pillow it’s okay of course.
Five: *throws a pillow*
Ben: “So you don’t love me after all? It’s all been a lie? I-”
Five: *throws another pillow while Ben is still talking*
Who falls asleep last, watching the other with a small, affectionate smile?
Five!
In my head, Ben is a very sleepy person, lmao. And it takes a while for the 3 espresso to leave Five’s system, so most of the time Ben’s already fast asleep when Five gets tired.
(And already in Five’s lap too, because if Ben does a nap, his s/o has to do a nap too. That’s just how it is).
And maybe Five will try their hardest to stay awake just so they can card their fingers through Ben’s hair and take a minute to simply be glad that they’re allowed to have this.
Maybe they fall asleep listening to Ben breathe.
Who mistakes salt for sugar?
Neither.
I mean, it can happen to the best of us but you know what the two of them would do instead?
Switch salt and sugar and just wait for their siblings to fall for it.
They encourage Luther to go and make some pancakes for the rest of the family and then just sit there and wait for the others to take their first bite.
The only one who doesn’t fall for it is Allison. She’s been watching Five and Ben being suspicious and when they make no move to eat the pancake on their plate, she doesn’t either.
Vanya tries her best to keep smiling and tells Luther they’re tasty - meanwhile she sneakily takes a few sips of her water.
Diego actually spits the pancake out and just goes “They’re shit”.
Klaus probably eats them anyway.
(They don’t ever find out that the reason the pancakes were salty is because of Five and Ben but that’s mostly because they bribed Allison into not telling).
Who lets the microwave play the loud beeping sound at 1am in the morning?
Five.
Five is an asshole but also they know that Ben sleeps through most stuff so there’s nothing to worry about.
(They still scold everyone else for doing that though because how dare they nearly wake Ben?)
Ben on the other hand avoids being too loud at night because Five’s up and ready to fight at the slightest noise (which is a pain when Ben gets up at night to pee because not only does Five sit upright in bed when Ben comes back - which is rather creepy -, but they also cling when Ben tries to move away).
(Five says it’s payback because when they wanna get up and the Bentacles are out, they simply put Five back into the position they want them in).
Who comes up with cheesy pick up lines?
Ben!
Ben likes to lean down and over Five’s shoulder and just whisper some cheesy stuff into Five’s ear while Five tries their best ignoring them - because they’re doing some important work here, okay?
But Five isn’t strong, not when it comes to Ben, so most of the time they will let Ben sneak his hands down Five’s chest and his head rest on Five’s shoulder while they sweet talk Five into taking a ‘quick’ break.
(Which most of the time turns into abandoning their work altogether because Ben thinks it’s far more important to push Five onto the mattress and do some work on their body).
When Five’s sitting at their desk the next day, with bruises on their wrists and hickeys peeking out under their collar they aren’t even surprised when Ben appears behind them again, with some new sweet talk and forever wandering hands.
Who rearranges the bookshelf in alphabetical order?
Both.
The problem is: They have different systems. Five arranges the books in alphabetical order, all about having an efficient system where you can find what you’re looking for within seconds.
Ben’s system is called ‘Do it after feel’
Like, his faves are on one shelf, the ones that are good but where the author is a little shit are on another, there’s a spot with continuations of series who were good and another for those who were bad.
Five: “Series belong together!”
Ben: “Only if you’re weak.”
Whenever one of them has time - and the other isn’t watching - they rearrange it so it fits their system.
This has been going on for weeks and neither of them plan on stopping.
Who licks the spoon when they’re baking brownies?
Both!
They switch. Depending on what they’re baking, Five will lick the batter from the spoon while Ben scratches the leftover chocolate sauce out of the little bowl.
They rarely ever do the baking though, they mostly wait around while Grace or Luther bake and grab the used bowls and cutlery like little kids.
Who buys candles for dinners even though there’s no special occasion?
Both!
They even light candles when they’re just eating with the family because why not? Ben usually buys scented candles and he definitely spends hours just sniffing different candles before picking one.
(He likes cinnamon and christmas smells best so Five will buy them when they’re out and about anyway).
Their room is full of candles too but they don’t light them because all of them have some special shapes like flowers or stars and Five feels bad lighting them because then 'they’ll die'.
So they’re just slowly stuffing their whole room - and their second room - with candles.
(Ben is also an impulse buyer so they have shit like a gumball machine and those little mechanical carousels where the horses go up and down.
Five mostly buys food and they can and will buy copious amounts of sweets they can munch while thinking about mathematical problems or when they’re feeling down.
They have an extra drawer for Ben’s fave stuff).
Who draws little tattoos on the other with a pen?
Five.
It’s not really tattoos though, they just use Ben as an additional chalkboard and more often than not Ben’s arms are full of equations and doodles.
Never Five’s arms though and Five says it’s because they don’t wanna spend so much time in the bathroom, scrubbing the marker away, but Ben believes it’s really because they like having Ben around.
And drawing on him is a good way to involve him and make sure he can’t leave because “You’re carrying a note that I really need on your arm. Seems like you have to stay for a little longer. But don’t worry; I’m kind enough to let you cuddle with me.”
Who comes home with a new souvenir magnet every time they go on vacation?
Neither of them go on vacation but at one point Ben started buying fridge magnets of the places he would like to visit some day and since then it’s become some kind of habit that Five partakes in too.
If they see a magnet of a place they think looks interesting they buy it and then they do some research on where it is (for example South Africa and France and the birthplaces of all the sibs).
Five actually plans on jumping them to the various places one day but they never jumped as far away before so they have to do some training first - which may take some time.
Especially because they plan on taking not only Ben, but all the siblings + Grace.
Who convinces the other to fill out those couple surveys in the back of magazines?
Both!
Neither of them believe that those surveys have any kind of substance (especially Five likes to rant about statistics and how most answers are kept vague to apply to most couples) but they still fill them out.
And bicker over the answers.
Ben: "How does your partner treat you?"
Five: "A, obviously."
Ben: "You treat me like I'm a queen? I doubt it."
Five: "I do!"
Ben, smiling: "Sure."
According to most surveys, they’re not compatible - one even suggested that Ben is the type of boyfriend to cheat eventually.
They joke about it.
They know they work out, so why believe a magazine?
And that’s it! This took me the whole day so I hope it was worth it! (This is exactly 5k btw).
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he is your world (you just don't know it)
It’s not that she wants Eddie to hurt, not at all. Shannon loves him, respects him, and if it were in her hands, she would give him absolutely everything in the world that could make him happy.
or
Shannon Diaz gets to live and it changes everything.
CHAPTER 4 : THE CONFRONTATION.
READ ON AO3 - OTHER CHAPTERS: 1, 2, 3
Shannon moves slightly away, so he can get inside her apartment with no problem and as much as she wants to start the questions right in that second, she knows that this has to start with him. If something was wrong with her son, Eddie wouldn’t be so patient with it, so at least that’s out of the way. Is it Buck again? Because the last thing she knew, Buck had appeared on her house wearing a grin bigger than his face, chatting about how he and Eddie were back to being best friends. Those had been his exact words and it was so adorable that she didn’t even tease him about the way his eyes light up and his cheek became an outstanding color pink.
Following that line of thought, she tried to remember what other little information she had gotten about Eddie in the last few days. There was the new car, that he had showed her and say it was a good price and well, she knew he was smart enough with his finances, but apart from that, there wasn’t anything terribly out of place. She must had missed something big, considering the way Eddie is still standing in the middle of her living room, seemed more out of place than ever before.
“Do you want to sit?” It felt pretty stupid to ask, but the more she looked at him, the more uneasy she felt.
His lips curved into a smile, but far from be happy or light, it was charged with so much guilt that Shannon dreaded whatever that he was going to say. Had Eddie killed someone? Was he taking away her son from her? Had someone died? “Don’t think you will want me here in a bit”
It’s starting to get on her nerves, this whole thing, so Shannon moved closer to him and take his hands on her, eyes hard not necessarily unwelcome. He knows her well enough to know that whatever he needs to speak with her, he must start now. “Let’s hear it, then” It can’t be that bad, right? Her mind is just being noisy because she still doesn’t have the facts and she is only human, she is meant to think the worst.
“Cap is sending me to therapy, mandatory” Her eyebrows raised and she is pretty sure they almost hide in her hairline, because well, Diaz man don’t go to therapy. Not even marriage therapy, not even if asked. Eddie sighs, probably knowing that she is thinking, before taking off the hoddie that was covering his chest. Shannon is half a second away to move extremely far away from him, since he had gone insane clearly, but her eyes caught everything.
His whole fucking chest is a massive bruise.
Before she even gets to ask, or make her mind work again, Eddie continues with his explanation. “They found out that I…. These pasts weeks, I have been fighting” With who? For what? “There is an underground fighting pit that pays really well and I’m good, so…”
Shannon doesn’t even let him finish because absolutely every part of her has gone from utter confusion and dread to completely, blinding rage.
“You did what?!” It’s almost satisfying the way Eddie seems to flinch under her tone, but she is too upset to even think about it. He can’t be serious, because there is no way her ex-husband is that idiotic to put his entire life on jeopardy for… “Why in the world would you do something like that!?”
He, at least, has the decency to look ashamed. Still, a second after his jaw sets and he looks right at her. There is so much sadness on them but above, so much stubbornness. “You have no idea how angry I was with the divorce and then the stupid lawsuit…”
If she was watching the scene from outside, Shannon would have hide her head behind her hands because that was so obviously the wrong thing to say. There is a part of her brain that wants to understand him, to soothe him and rationalize his motives, but she is past the point of taking the blame for everything that Eddie gives her. Not anymore, not of this.
“Oh, so now this is all my fault” She steps closer to him, eyes never leaving his. “The fact that you went to punch people, without caring about anything, not even your son, it’s mine and Buck’s fault, isn’t it, Eddie?” Understanding crosses his face and he opens his mouth, probably to say yet another thing that is going to make it worse, but this time she is faster. “Because perfect little Eddie does nothing wrong. It’s always someone else’s fault, isn’t it? Nothing is ever on him, not even when he does stupid crap because he can’t behave like a responsible human being!”
And Shannon really could say this is all about the fighting, even when she hasn’t let him explain absolutely anything about it. She wants to distant this event from the past, but he is wearing the same expression and using the same excuses, like he had been justified in doing what he did, just because he is sad.
Just like when he left for Afghanistan the second time, and no matter how much he wants to say otherwise, this is on him. His choices and his consequences to pay. The worst part is that he had put himself on the line without caring about Christopher, about his own son. Again.
“Shannon, please” She doesn’t know what he is asking, but right now it’s too much and she is afraid she can say something that she will regret. There are questions to be asked and security matters to attend about their son, but right now the only thing she wants is to shake him until some sense gets inside that stupid head of his.
“Get out”
His eyes open slightly, and there is so much fear and she doesn’t really understand why but right now? It doesn’t matter.
“Please, just let me…”
“Get out!” It feels weird, to be the one pushing him away when it has always been the other way. Shannon had always been with her arms wide open for him, to come and go as he pleases, but not right now.
There is a pause, so long that she thinks maybe he is going to fight her again, but after a few moments he is out of the house so silently that she would had missed him if she could move her eyes away from him. She wants to scratch her eyes but no, she will not cry for something that is not her fault. What she is going to do is call her son, hear him talk until her heart beat normally and then wait until her mind could focus again to call Buck.
They needed to have a long talk.
It seemed that he felt the same way because late at night, when she was staring at the ceiling and waiting for sleep to take mercy on her, her phone starts ringing in the bedside table. Shannon isn’t even surprised that it’s Buck’s name on it and when she answers, she doesn’t give him time to talk.
“Did you know?” Clearly, that wasn’t what he was expecting to hear, because Buck takes a moment before he answers.
“Just found out this morning with the rest of the team, I promise. If I had known…” They both know that is probably a lie, that Buck would had let Eddie get with it on his own terms, but the sentiment is appreciated. “Can’t wrap my head about it either, if that helps”
Her eyes move back to the ceiling, adjusting her phone against her ear, and trying to find her balance. “Have you talk to him?”
“Umh, yeah” His voice suddenly sounds unsure and it peaks her interest. “I’m kinda in the house?”
Against her own wishes, she is unable to not smile. “Kinda?”
“Well, not kinda. I’m in the house. He called and I…” That’s new, but good, she supposes, that Eddie is trying to reach to someone. Still, the pause that Buck has given her make her feel a ‘but’ coming up. “We had to take Christopher to his abuela.”
An alarm rings in her head, making her seat against the bed. “What? Did something happen? Why didn’t you call me?”
She can hear Buck taking a deep breath on the other side of the line, before he speaks again. “He thinks you are taking Christopher away from him”
Whatever that she thought that was coming, it was definitely not that The fear in his eyes suddenly makes sense and she would be lying if she says it hasn’t crossed her mind to wonder if Eddie was suited to take care of their son. The concern was gone as soon as it came and for the way Buck is speaking, he knows too that she would never do something to separate the Diaz guy. Not after everything.
“I told him you wouldn’t, but he doesn’t really believe me” Her throat is closed, too unsure of what to do or say, knowing that this will be go directly at the other man. “He just fell asleep but I really, I don’t know how long that is going to last”
She has to remember Buck is a friend, that Buck is safe. “I would never do that” She hates that her voice sounds strain. “I’m just so angry” As soon as she says it she remembers Eddie saying exactly the same and she is only human after all. “But I would never, Buck”
When he speaks again, his voice is soft. “I know Shannon” A weight she didn’t even know she is holding seems to disappear with his words and her heart feels warm. “I think you should tell him”
He is right, she should. Probably tomorrow. With a groan of acknowledge, she closes her eyes again. She is sure the talk will be horrible, that there are some other screams that will come out, but she can’t think about it right now. The day is being so long and Buck’s friendship is soothing, in a way that makes her wish she could have one of his big hugs. It’s not a surprise that Eddie, even in the middle of a crisis, was able to find a little rest beside the other man.
“Buck”
“Yeah?”
“Would you stay on the phone for a little while?”
A light chuckle comes from the other end and it makes her smile. “You just sounded a lot like Chris” There is a fondness in his voice that makes her so damn proud of herself for all the times she had support him and had his back. “I will If you promise to try again tomorrow, with the talking”
“I promise I will try not to kill your boyfriend, Buck” A yawn prevents her from hearing the offended sound that Buck makes and she knows, like the sky is blue, that he must be blushing. It makes her smile a little bit more honestly.
Tomorrow, she promises to herself. Tomorrow she will try again.
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Promise: A Kristanna Demigod AU
A sequel to THIS, blame Jess.
Universe: Demigod AU, Canon-divergent Word Count: 4280 Rating: T (Teen and up audiences), Naughtiness will come in the future I swear.
He’d arrived in December, as promised. It hadn’t been exactly a month since his last visit, it being a week before she’d thought to expect him. It wasn’t as if she hadn’t been expecting him, however, as she hoped to see him every evening. She’d been only moderately disappointed every night since his visit that he hadn’t returned, but she had never lost hope, as the month wasn’t out, and she truly had expected him to arrive exactly a month to the day. He’d always been prompt in the past and she had no reason to expect and different with their new arrangement.
When he arrived, a bit earlier than expected, but still expected nevertheless, she had been in the midst of reading a riveting Penny Dreadful. She’s sent a stable boy to buy it for her a week earlier. A bookseller in the market had begun to carry them and they were all the rage in another kingdom across the sea, so naturally Anna had been curious overhearing Gerda, the head maid, bemoaning the younger staff’s ineptest in the “macabre smut”. She’d never read macabre smut before. She’d never read regular smut before. The palace library simply didn’t stock such things, and while she knew that she was welcome to go off into the market to buy things for herself, she didn’t much care for the idea of the bookseller, the entire market, and her guards knowing that she was buying such things. She thought maybe she could get out the door without the guards, but even the market knowing was perhaps a bit much.
As it was, she had gotten a bit better at speaking with some of the staff since she made the request. The word must have gotten around that the Princess had common taste because maids scattered less in her presence now than they had before. While it wasn’t enough to keep her from feeling lonely, it was certainly an improvement. She thought that maybe she might give the book, more of a pamphlet really, away when she finished it to garner a bit more approachability amongst the staff. After all, while there were very few of them, she was bound to find at least one person who might want to talk with her. It had been quite some time since she’d tried to get anyone to talk with her, many previous attempts had failed miserably, especially those that involved her sister.
When his knuckles had tapped against the glass of her balcony door, she’d jumped about a foot. The pamphlet landed somewhere in the unlit reaches of her large bedroom where she’d wait to fetch it until morning. Her heart raced when she’d done her best to complete the necessary mental gymnastics that took her from the “murderous creature of myth” to the “polite man of half-myth” who was standing out in the cold of her balcony.
Why he’d felt the need to knock was beyond her. As far as she was concerned, he was always welcome to simply walk in. The rational part of her brain reminded her that she probably would have been frightened had he done that too.
She opened the door for him and sighed when she saw his sheepish smile, which confirmed her theory that he’s seen her make a fool of herself through the glass door. She blushed when he walked through the door and began the familiar process of removing his winter-wear.
“I didn’t mean to frighten you,” he said as he draped his clothes over his arm and set aside his snowy boots, “My apologies Anna.”
She relaxed a bit as he spoke to her. His voice always reminded her of that of a poet she had heard as a child. Even speaking conversationally his voice held melody and song that she couldn’t match even in all of her years of music tutoring. His voice was the rising of the sun, slow, fluid, strong and sure. She’d never tire of hearing it, and she was certain that she’d never get over the way it made her feel warm all over to hear him say her name so reverently.
“Yes, well,” she began, still adjusting to the realization that he was there and that she was absolutely not dreaming, “don’t apologize, it was my fault anyway.”
He gave her an odd look, but didn’t question her, instead he pulled her to him and pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead.
“I’m still sorry,” he said contritely before walking with her towards her small table where he placed his outerwear over the back of the second chair which over the years had become his.
“I’m sorry!” Anna said, realizing that despite the fact she had been expecting him, she hadn’t been expecting him tonight and had no idea what she should be doing with herself, “I wasn’t really prepared to entertain tonight. I have a tray of tea, but there’s just the one cup I’ve been using and I’m sure the pot is tepid now at best… of I don’t even know if you like tea! And what was I…”
“Anna,” Kristoff interrupted, his eyes smiling as she looked up into them, “You don’t need to entertain me. Being with you is entertainment enough.”
Anna flushed. He was teasing her! She thought for a moment about faking annoyance over it, making him beg her forgiveness, but instead she smiled, because she couldn’t help herself. He’d see straight through her anyway, of that she was certain.
“But yes,” he added, seemingly grateful that she’d chosen not to tell him off, “You and I had too many tea parties over the years for me not to like tea.”
She laughed at that.
“They didn’t really have tea though,” she said, thinking back to all the years that she’d served him cookies and candies and tarts she’d nicked from the kitchen on her toy china. She’d been too young to justify even being up at the hour he came at all, let alone to call for tea.
He chuckled in return and her heart fluttered in her chest. He reached out to her again, and she stepped happily into his open arms, wrapping her own around him, and feeling comfort in his embrace.
“When you were thirteen, we had tea,” he said, tucking his head down so that she was tight against his chest and he was speaking into her hair. It tickled her scalp a bit and Anna smiled even more broadly into the worn fabric of his shirt.
She could recall that night as well as she could recall anything. She’d held every memory she had of him close to her heart and while some memories had become fuzzy with time, this one was still somewhat solid and fresh in her mind. The most vivid bit was the image of him sipping on a cup of tea she’d made for him, and then watching him almost choke as she attempted to maintain his smile and choke it down.
“Oh yes we did,” she said with a groan, “and you nearly spat it out!”
He was holding back a laugh. She could hear it in his voice as he attempted to deny it.
“I did not.”
Anna with far less self-control, snorted. She could hardly be blamed; she really and truly was only human.
“You absolutely did! It must have been awful! I remember worrying for almost the whole year that you wouldn’t come back ever again because I couldn’t make a decent cup of tea. I had watched the maids and kitchen staff like hawks for weeks to get it right and I nearly killed you with it anyway.”
She was only half-joking. She had been anxious that whole year that he wouldn’t come back, but it had less to do with her fear that her tea making had turned him off, and everything to do with the fact that she’d barely any self-confidence at all then. She couldn’t imagine what he saw in her, and while she still questioned it somewhat now, she had the comfort of feeling his arms around her and knowing fully that he would never abandon her.
“It was just…” he sighed, and she could tell that he was debating whether he should say what was on his mind.
When he’d made up his mind, he shook his head and added, “There was so much sugar in it. It was fine! I like tea, I just wasn’t ready for it to be so sweet.”
She laughed at that and then laughed some more when he scooped her up and into his arms. She knew that he was taking her to her bed before they even got there. She liked this new sort of tradition they were making.
“I’m glad you find it funny,” he said looking entirely all too human in his regret, “I thought you’d hate me at the time. You’d done something so nice for me and then I could hardly swallow it.”
She reached a hand up to run her hand along his jaw and against his beard. It was a little shorter this time, as if maybe he’d shaved it to look more fashionable but hadn’t been able to rid himself of it entirely.
“You could have told me,” she said a bit sadly. It wouldn’t have really prevented her embarrassment at the time, but it would have allowed her a chance to fix her mistake.
“I would have fixed you another cup and let you add the sugar.”
He closed his eyes and leaned his face into her palm more fully, clearly enjoying her touch in a way that made her melt.
“I didn’t want to seem ungrateful.”
She just shook her head and relaxed. They’d been silly as kids. They still probably were, even now, but she knew that there were plenty of things that they could be that were worse than silly.
“Well I’m glad that we can both remember it so fondly now,” she said with a soft smile. He was arranging her in his lap, shifting around on the edge of the bed until he found a position that was comfortable. It was so strangely normal, as if they did this sort of thing every night, as if he wasn’t what he was, and as if she wasn’t who she was. It felt simple, it felt right. She felt like every other young woman in the city below, getting into bed with her sweetheart as they were their husbands.
Despite it being his first visit under their newly developed arrangement, despite the fact that she knew that she owed him a life debt that he could choose to exact in any way he chose, despite the fact that nothing about either of them was normal, it felt right. She felt as comfortable with him now as she always had when he’d come to her yearly. Even if she had no idea what she should be doing it felt right just to be held by him.
“What were you reading when I frightened you?” he asked casually after a few moments of companionable silence had passed. He settled upon shifting into the mattress proper with his back against the footboard and her head leaned against his chest. He’d cautiously started to braid her loose hair, and she was grateful for it as she hadn’t managed to get so far with it, only having brushed it before settling down to read.
“You’d laugh if I told you,” she said with a flush, focusing for the moment on how good it felt when his fingers brushed through her hair.
“Would you want me to?” he asked, turning her words from the month before around on her so instantly and instinctually that she couldn’t help but to smile.
“Yes, actually,” she said with a sigh, “One of the worst parts of living here is that no one ever laughs at me. Even when I do the most ridiculous things like trip over my own feet, no one laughs.”
He was smiling She couldn’t see it as he was behind her, but she could hear it in his voice when he said, “I wouldn’t laugh if you fell, but if I thought you wouldn’t mind I might have laughed a bit when you threw that book… Not that I did, but if you’d wanted me to, well I could have.”
She leaned forward slightly when he continued the braid lower down her neck and past her shoulders. It had grown much longer than she liked it to be, but to prolong the intimacy of him plaiting her hair, she was glad for it.
“You’re odd Kristoff,” she said with the sort of honesty she had never been able to have with any other person. “I feel as though I shouldn’t be giving you permission to laugh at me, but here we are. Laugh as you like.”
And so, he did. With a chuckle he ended her braid, twisting a bit of the tail around to stop it from falling out, though it was unlikely to stay for very long without being tied.
“I’m allowed a little oddness, I think. I was raised by trolls.”
She turned to look at him then. She found it so easy to forget at times that he wasn’t just a man from the mountains, but that he was caught up in the world of things that she could only dream of or read in stories.
“Ah!” he said before she could say a word to question or comment, “You still haven’t answered my question Anna.”
She blushed but climbed off his lap to fetch the answer over explaining. Best, she believed, he see for himself the sort of swill she’d been engaged in reading. She’d even admit, that despite her racing heart and immense feeling of terror, she’d been enjoying it.
As she walked away from him, she felt his eyes on her. She’d already grown comfortable with the sensation, as she found it a comfort to be watched by him at any and every possible moment. He’d been her protector in a single instance as a child but her friend ever since. Now he was something else entirely that they hadn’t given a name to beyond “beloved” and the unspoken whispers of “mine” that came clearly to her mind whenever she looked upon him. She wondered if maybe the same word was coming to his thoughts as he watched her.
She stepped off into the shadows of her bedroom, those far from the light of the fire and the lantern on the table by which she had been reading the thing. The floor was colder under her feet, and if it weren’t for his presence on her bed, she would have left the pamphlet there until morning. She was brave when it counted. Spiders didn’t scare her, she liked to ride her horse quickly on the occasions she could get outdoors, she was unafraid of storms and of most natural things including open water even though it had, by all accounts, taken her parents. She was even unafraid of the wood despite knowing she might have died there had it not been for Kristoff, but she was, evidently, terrified of scary stories and the dark after reading them.
She snatched the bound papers from the floor before her and scurried back into the lit portions of her room. Kristoff, still watching her closely was smirking, but said nothing. He looked as if he were going to laugh again, but despite her permission being given to do so mere moments ago, he’d evidently decided better of it and held it in.
She scurried back onto the bed, unafraid of making a fool of herself in front of him. Better, she thought, to be back into his arms as quickly as possible. He agreed with the thought if how quickly he pulled her back into his arms was any indication.
Once they were sufficiently situated, he took the book from her with a smile that she felt more than saw when his lips pressed a quick kiss to her cheek. She melted back into him, her back against him and his back against the footboard as if her quest across the room had never happened to begin with.
He held the thing in front of her, so his arms were on either side of her, and learned his chin against her shoulder to be close enough in the dim space to read it.
“A vampire story?” he asked, sounding more confused than he did teasing, “that’s what had you so frightened?”
Anna flushed, feeling a little foolish when he asked in such a way. She felt fairly justified in being spooked by such a thing. Admittedly she didn’t know very many people who ever left the castle walks, but she had imagined that something Gerda referred to as “macabre smut” would cause at least a slight fear response in the general public. Anna huffed and shifted out from his arms, deciding that she didn’t want to be held. She shifted around to face him, mentally preparing a speech on why exactly vampires were plenty terrifying, but the words died in her throat when she was his face.
He looked sullen to say the least. If Anna didn’t know better, she’d say he looked disappointed, but she did know at least enough to know that he wasn’t disappointed as much as he was concerned, and that was what really upset her. Kristoff thinking that she was an easily frightened young woman was on thing, seeing him concerned about it was quite another.
“Anna,” he said giving her a meaningful look that once again reminded her that for as human as he was with her, that as not even close to what he truly was, “Vampires aren’t real.”
She nodded. Of course, she knew that. She wasn’t a child.
His frown deepened and Anna was struck with the sensation that she’d done something wrong, or that there was something she should have realized sooner even though whatever it was, was something so had no understanding of in the slightest.
“Anna,” he repeated, sounding solemn, “Vampires don’t exist, but there are things that do that are worse. There are things that live in these lands…” he trailed off and sighed.
“Sometimes it’s easy for me to forget just how much you don’t know.
That scared her worse than any Penny Dreadful could, so when he set the thing aside on the bed and pulled her into his arms, closer, chest to chest and more intimately than he ever had before, it was only a small comfort. It was a small comfort that all but vanished when his hold on her tightened and he spoke again.
His voice was softer than it had been, but somehow twice as serious as he spoke next to her ear, “Don’t come to the mountains on the solstice, or at all after dark. Please.”
He was pleading when he said the last word and Anna froze against him. He sounded, beneath the command of his voice, frightened, and so she was as well. She couldn’t find the words to say, so slowly, and almost imperceptibly she nodded in return.
“I can’t believe how much…” he trailed off, keeping the rest of the thought to himself, but Anna understood, nevertheless. He couldn’t believe how little she knew, which she knew should embarrass her, but more than that it scared her, because she also knew that in his unspoken words he meant that he couldn’t believe how much he hasn’t told her, and how much of that could get her killed.
He looked terrified and she could see her own horror mirrored inn his eyes, but soon for him it faded. His grip on her loosened and he moved his hands from her back up to her face, cupping her jaw with one hand as the other brushed stray hairs away for her frightened eyes.
“I’m sorry, I’ve frightened you twice in one night… that wasn’t kind of me.”
Anna closed her eyes, he was giving her one those “too intense” looks again, and she couldn’t meet it and try to slow her racing heart simultaneously. The way he could just shift like that was too much for her sometimes. She let out the breath she’d been holding and opened her eyes to be met with his deep caring ones.
“There’s a lot I still need to explain to you Anna,” he said, both already aware of this, but it needing to be voiced, nevertheless. “Maybe your first trek into the mountains, at least your first one looking for me, should wait until Spring.”
She frowned. Of course, she was the logic in his words. There was clearly a lot she didn’t know, and plenty more that she didn’t know she didn’t know. Yet she was disappointed that she’d have to wait to supplement his visits until after the thaw.
It was selfish, and she knew it. She would see him once a month, which was much more than she’d seen of him before, and yet she wanted more.
He leaned in and pressed his lips to hers as if he’d known exactly what she was thinking. He kisses her slowly, gently, a kiss that was full of promise that had her both melting into his touch and pushing for more. She wasn’t a greedy person, she had wealth and a life of luxury, but she’d never truly wanted it despite being born into it. She was, however, greedy with him, her lips parting to let him in, her body pressing into his, pleasing for more friction, for more comfort, more physicality and far less clothing.
He responded in kind, his hands moving back down to her hips, pulling her up onto him until her legs were all but wrapped around him as he knelt on her bed. His tongue swiped against hers and she moaned into his mouth.
He drank in the sound greedily, shifting them both together so that he was above her on the mattress, pressed up on his arms, kissing her senseless as her hips bucked into his.
It felt right. She knew and didn’t know what she was asking him, she couldn’t really put it into words. She’d not been taught such things, had no way to learn.
When her fingers found the buttons of his shirt, he pulled away, leaving her a blushing mess on the mattress, feeling again, that she’d done something wrong.
The look he had in his eyes was unnatural but beyond the usual intensity of his looks toward her. She swore that in the dim light of the room, she saw gold in his eyes. Just as soon as the thought registered, the strange, unnatural look faded and with it, the color she’d sworn she saw. When she focused on his eyes again, he looked almost entirely human, apologetic brown, only slightly more than unremarkable, and a harbinger of the words she knew were coming.
“Not tonight?” she asked, knowing the answer and telling herself for the second time in as many months, that she was not as disappointed as she felt.
He nodded, looking sheepish and apologetic, but offering her no explanation. He’d already told her “someday” and that had to be enough for her for now. As it was, the date of “someday” seemed to be the least of her problems.
He leaned back down to give her another kiss. She understood it was an apology and she returned it.
“I should leave soon my beloved,” he said gently. Anna took this as meaning, no you didn’t chase me out by wanting more than I’m ready to give you.
She nodded sadly, “I won’t see you again until after Christmas.”
He offered a small frown in return and pulled her once again into his arms, this time chastely, his hands going to her hair to work carefully at fixing the braid he’d given her.
“There’s a lot I have to do during the solstice, but your holiday falls after that, doesn’t it? Maybe I can come again?”
Her heart wanted to plead with him to do so, but her head said that it was unfair of her to ask that of him when he was already giving her the monthly visit he’d promised. She wasn’t certain of how difficult it was for him to come to her, but she did know that she didn’t want to inconvenience him.
“No,” she said, “that’s alright, you’ve given me this and I’ll look forward to January.”
He kissed her again, lips lingering on hers a bit longer than they had when the kiss had been an apology, but not for as long as they had for the one they’d shared just before that.
When he left, he left her in her bed, blowing out her candles and lanterns for her as he went. The last she saw of him was his figure silhouetted by moonlight, moving off her balcony and into shadow. She’d sworn for a moment that she’d seen something else there with him but pulled her blankets up to her chin and decided not to think about it.
There was too much to worry about to even begin thinking about all the things she couldn’t imagine. Maybe, she thought before she fell asleep, it had been one of the trolls he’d said had raised him. Maybe he’d been joking about it, she thought, but also knew he hadn’t been, and that, at least, was one mystery she didn’t have to worry about too terribly much.
#kristanna#demigod AU#kristanna fanfic#I coouldn't let this one go guys#It's going to be it's own series#Shit
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The Haunting of Villa Diodati
I get to watch Doctor Who on my TV. Yay! First time in weeks there isn’t a Super Bowl or award show.
I literally forgot Cyberman were even coming to this season until I saw commercial advertising the rest of the season that played just now before the episode is starting. But that’s not until the finale I guess.
COSTUMES. PERIOD. COSTUMES. God I love historical episodes. Lord Byron!?!?!?! MRS. SHELLEY!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? YESSSSSSSSS Oh I am just so happy right now. At first I was like “Oooohh Northanger Abbey vibes” but no it’s like actual gothic novelists not a girl obsessed with them. Oh Fam. CAN’T SEE THE (ok I don’t know what I started typing here, the next line got me too excited and I forgot to come back to this one) “Because it is a truth universally acknowledged” AHHHHHH. I LITERALLY SCREAMED. IT WAS PROBABLY MORE OF A SQUEAK/SHRIEK THAN A SCREAM BUT STILL. GRAHAM. A MAN AFTER MY OWN HEART. “And nobody snog Byron.” I can’t. AHHH COUNTRY DANCING. Guys. Guys. GUYS. Is this episode made specifically for me!?!?!?!?!?!?!?! Well, I’ve never read any Byron or Shelley, but regency era?!?!?! I completely adore it. This poor butler. “How about writing the most gruesome, spine-chilling ghost story of all time?” Doctor. Try to be a bit more subtle.
*Something coming out of the painting* Me: *Thinking of the Kasavin* No... *Something small breaks out of the painting* Me: Oh ok Skeleton hand: *Crawls* Me: NO.
Noooooo there’s a disappearing lady. Oh no Graham’s in a loop. NOOO THERE’S A CHILD. This is like actually creepy. “His answers only increase the enigma” “I know someone like that.” Cue the screams of every Doctor/Yaz shipper ever. Annnndddddd there’s the hand....
This episode. Is like. Everything I want. Period costumes, Regency specifically. Ghosts. Skeletons. Jane Austen references. Country Dances. Love love love love LOVE.
Oh and of course the Doctor gets to wear another outfit, or at least a new vest. Which I love. I want to see what the detailing is. Oh no. Oh NO. BYRON DON’T YOU DARE HIT ON THE DOCTOR. NO. “But she always said there’s no reason not to try.” Awwwwwww. Yeah, how have we met both Ada and Lord Byron in the same season... there’s gotta something there.... Oh Fletcher. He’s so annoyed. He’s either evil or the best person here. THANK GOD FOR FLETCHER. Oh Doctor don’t taste that oh Doctor baby no.... I love/hate Byron being in love with the Doctor. I love it so much but I hate it so much. See. I don’t know enough about Byron. But I vaguely knew he was like... super creepy. And... keeping a 300 year old skeleton from a battle is definitely creepy. “One hand gone.” “Both hands gone.” OH GREAT. DON’T. DON’T EAT THINGS GIVEN BY GHOSTS. OR IS IT FAERIES? EITHER WAY. NO. I mean I guess Graham has no clue. BUT STILL. They’re in a loop too. Byron, stop looking at her like that. Stop it. I refuse. Everyone’s in a loop. Annnndddd that’s a ghost. WAIT IS THE BABY ADA?! Oh no wait never mind it’s William. And yeah ok that’s a person over the lake. NOOOOOOOOOO. NOOOO HE DID NOT JUST WALK THROUGH A WALL. I SAID NO OUT LOUD. Like a dream? Was Poli asleep earlier when Graham got lost? Are they in his dream or something? Did Byron just hide behind her? Oh you coward. Not worthy of my Doctor. “May just say you are quite lovely in a crisis?” OH SHUT UP. A PERCEPTION FILTER?!!?!?!? Yeah ok that’s not fun. A skeleton in the place of a baby. That’s messed up. I feel like so much has happened, but it’s only been a half hour. There’s still 40 minutes, we’re not even halfway through. Where is this going? Also, I’m enjoying it a lot. This isn’t a TARDIS is it? Will the Master pop up? This isn’t like Hide is it? A traveler who we think is evil but is just lost? NOOOOOOO. OH NOOO. I JUST SCREAMED “NOOOOOO” IN COMPLETE AND UTTER FEAR. ANYTHING BUT A CYBERMAN PLEASE.
I didn’t think we’d see the lone Cybermen until the end of the season. I literally rationalized myself into being shocked. If I hadn’t seen the promo, I would have forgotten we’d Cybermen at all, but then I convinced myself we wouldn’t get them yet, and it surprised me.
So. Not like Hide. Definitely evil.
“I will not lose anyone else to that.” OH GOD WHY MUST YOU REMIND ME OF BILL. IT’S BEEN ALMOST 3 YEARS AND I’M NOWHERE NEAR RECOVERED FROM THAT PAIN. DOES HE HAVE A HUMAN EYE? HE’S TRULY UNFINISHED. WAIT THAT’S HALF A NORMAL FACE. NOT THE BABY. This nanny is like the best person ever. I appreciate her trying to save the baby. She did not deserve to die. Oh god it has one human hand. He tried to kiss the baby?!?!?!!? Yaz my girl no you don’t. Don’t look for loopholes. Oh spoilers from the closed captions I guess. It said “Ashad: Funny” so I’m guessing its name is Ashad, and that that’s going to be revealed at some point. I just remembered that the Cyberwoman was also a Chibnall story. Is this his patrially-converted-Cyberman redemption? Yeah the writing on the wall is creepy... Someone get Shelley some help. Who plays the Cyberman? Imagine if we get one of those Cyberbeast things from the Next Doctor. That’d be fun. Maybe I just want to see them again. Oh not Fletcher. “Guard him well.” Soooooo is Byron now a guardian of some sort... Oh cool, Shelley can fight back a bit. Oh great it’s in him. That’s great. That’s fun. Fantastic. Was it Jack who sent it back? Or maybe the Master? Oooh the Doctor is going off on Ryan. That’s some anger. “It’s a mountain. With me in the summit, in the stratosphere, alone. Left to choose.” Oh GOD Doctor. She’s just letting it all out. “A composite of parts?” Oh ok so there’s that inspiration. I was wondering why he hadn’t take the baby with him. I guess he did spare him. Well that sucks. He’s a lone Cyberman, what ship does he have? “We are inevitable.” THE APOTHEOSIS???? Sorry, had to make a StarKid reference. Doctor. Doctor. You had ONE job. Jack told you to do ONE THING. Ok well at least the Doctor’s like “Oh no I am well aware what I did was dumb but I will fix it.” She’s truly learned since she became the Time Lord Victorious when he didn’t care. I’m Mr. Poli half laughing as Miss Clairmont roasts Byron. I had forgotten about the lady and the child for a while though... I did wonder at one point how they fit into all this... and then forgot to keep wondering...
So that was a REALLY fun episode! I am happy with it!
Loved the costumes especially, but that’s just me nerding out.
This episode had me screaming “NOO” out loud multiple times so that’s fun.
I just checked IMDB to look at the cast since so many people looked familiar to me. And I realized that Nicholas Briggs was apparently playing the Cyberman voice again. That makes me so happy.
Update: I actually started proofreading this, then realized the ice cream place near me was closing in a half hour. So I stopped, left and got ice cream, and now i’m back. Yay! Doctor Who and ice cream! And I have the day off tomorrow!
Anyway. Yay! A better partially-converted-Cyberman story! IMDB says Chibnall didn’t write this one, but it’s in his era so I guess we can consider it like a half-redemption.
(Also I don’t even hate Cyberwoman as much as other people do. My biggest complaint with Cyberwoman was her design since they put her in a bikini and heels. The bikini could be justified that it uses less metal and conserves resources, that I can almost accept, but the heels have no justification.)
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