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k-slla · 1 day ago

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Split Second

Pairing - Soldier Boy/Ben x Fem!Reader

Square filled for @jacklesversebingo - In The Dark by Billy Squire

First entry for @alphabetquest - Angst

A/N : This can be read as a part of Fate, or Something Like It (two-part story, you can find both here) or as a stand-alone.

Words: 4.2k | My Masterlist

Warnings: very angsty, mentions of alcohol and drugs, death, unhealthy coping mechanisms for grief, cursing

Italics- Ben's memories

All mistakes are mine! All feedback is appreciated!

Enjoy!

The dimly lit bar was filled with smoke and music; one side of it dedicated to a small dance floor with a jukebox in the corner, the other half to a karaoke stage. People were laughing, drinking, having fun. Living their lives. The room was packed for tonight's happy hour and it definitely made Ben regret his decision to come here tonight, but he needed a drink and a damn strong one at that to deal with what was going on in his head. But the bar, where someone's mere attempt at singing karaoke made him want to rather listen to the nails dragging on a chalkboard, was the last place he actually wanted to be at. It wouldn't have even helped if he went to another one - each next bar would've been just the same.

With his eyes glued to the drink in front of him, Ben barely paid attention to what was going on around in the bar. Only the bartender managed to get a slight nod, when he came around to refill his glass again. He was too caught in his own thoughts to see all the dolled up women around him, boldly snaking up at his arms, not making a real effort to hide their intentions.

Now, usually, Ben would've loved all the attention he could get. Another boost to his already overinflated ego, he wouldn't have said no to that. Most definitely he wouldn't have thought twice before grabbing a few girls with him to continue the fun in a hotel room, but for now his only desired companion was a glass of well-aged whiskey, paired with a smoke, of course.

He didn't know what had changed in those past two years he had spent together with you. Even if he hated to admit it to himself, he knew you had left your mark on him. But still he had fallen back to his old habits, now for different purposes, but he's back to the ‘big three', something that once mattered to him the most - alcohol, drugs and women.

There had been countless nights before he met you, when he was left alone in the dark after ‘the fun’ had left, accompanied only by his mind, that did nothing but dragged him deeper and deeper into the nightmarish echoes of his past with each night. And every day he had to shove those feelings and memories down to save his twisted public image. No matter how bad he was made to seem, it was still better than reality. He couldn’t let himself be seen as damaged or hurt.

There was no escape for him from those nightmares. Not one he had found on his own.

But fate, or something like it (his drug-induced delusions, more likely), brought you into his life. And even though the start of your relationship was heavily influenced by Ben's anger and wish to have his revenge, you still stayed with him. And it was...good. Even if only for a little while.

Ben had been lying awake in bed for a few hours already, enjoying the quiet and watching the sunrise light up the room minute by minute, casting the light over your face, only highlighting your beautiful features that still didn't fail to amaze him. A few moments later he felt you softly stirring in your sleep next to him.Your quiet sleepy curse to light being so bright brought a smile to his face. If someone would've told him a few decades ago, that someday he'll be in a somewhat stable relationship, that he'd be ‘exclusive’ with someone as you had so nicely put it, he would've knocked them out before they would've been able to say a word.

Feeling you waking up, he almost instinctively tightened his embrace around you.

While it was easier for him to sleep now, especially with you in his arms, he was still not quite in the same place he was before Russia. Hopefully he never would be, and that would be for the best, considering some of his traits from that time, but with your help he was getting better.

“What're you thinking about?”

Hearing your sleepy voice in the mornings had become one of his favorite things, but seeing you first thing in the morning, with your hair all tousled from the night before, well, that still topped everything for him. There was just nothing or no one more beautiful than you.

Ben pressed a kiss to the top of your head. “Oh, nothing, darlin’.” His voice was low and still a little husky from sleep. He knew he couldn't brush it off so easily. You sat up from his arms, pulling the blanket around your shoulders to keep yourself warm in the chilly room as you turned around to give him a little look of disbelief.

“Really?” Your fingers brushed gently over his scruffy cheek, turning his face to meet yours. “You don't have to try to spare me from your thoughts, Ben, you know? Talk to me. Something’s bothering you, isn't it?” You asked him, a soft smile tugging on your lips.

Ben never thought he'd ever deserve anything like it. Even being together with you, he still couldn't help but think that this wasn't meant for him. He wasn't a good person. Never has been. He'd done god-awful things in the past. And you…you were a good-hearted, warm person, who helped him even after he tried to push you away. On more than one occasion.

Ben closed his eyes, slightly leaning into your palm. He couldn't remember the last time before you when he was touched with such care and love. Even when he was together with Countess, it felt like their relationship was more for the tabloids than for themselves. With you it felt different. He felt different.

He loved the gentle touches you gave him. He wanted and needed them all the same. These were the only things that managed to calm him down.

Letting out a heavy sigh, his green eyes met with yours again, and he talked. He talked about everything that was on his mind, that was weighing down his heart, even if it was just a little thing, a little snippet of his past clawing inside his mind because for once in his life he wasn't being judged. With you, he let himself be vulnerable.

He exhaled sharply, finishing another glass of whiskey. At this point it was barely blood that was pumping through his veins. Alcohol had barely any effect on him. Drugs became a mere quick fix to keep his mind off you. Women were just a distraction that he began to regret as soon as they had left. He had started to refuse to fall asleep, now that you weren't there to take his nightmares away.

Those had changed, too.

What used to be the replaying memories of his time in Russia or about his childhood or negligent father, had now become only one thing- you.

Even the happy memories of the two of you awoke him in cold sweat. And perhaps those hurt even more, with their rarity. There was just no way out, no matter where he looked. He just had to live on with what he'd done.

Well…not quite - there was one thing that could be done, and that idea began to slowly consume him, starting to become more and more enticing with each day. He wouldn't have to be afraid of hurting more innocent people and Vought would probably gladly get him off the streets, especially if he'd do it voluntarily. He should've done it right after the first blow up in Midtown. Should’ve taken accountability for his actions and not run like a coward, although back then he had other priorities in sight.

That's what he was. A damn coward. If he'd been half the man he always made himself seem, he would've walked away from you. Because that would've been the right thing to do. But no…he was so afraid to be left alone with his thoughts and nightmares, that after finding you, he needed you close. And getting back into that box wasn't going to bring you back. He knew that. It wasn't going to take away all the hurt he caused you. It would've been just an escape for him and this was something he did not deserve. Not after what he put you through.

Ben had always thought there was no way for him to experience pain worse than he already had gone through in Russia, but life always finds a way, doesn't it?

What had started as light bickering between you and him, quickly grew into something bigger and bigger…and bigger. At first, you fought and made up in the best way you both could imagine. But in the end even good sex couldn't help pushing your disagreements aside and you still ended up arguing about everything. It had become to both of you hurting each other with your insecurities. For you it felt like Ben was pulling away from you. And apparently you had started to smother him. His words, not yours.

You were good with choosing your words and Ben didn't hold back either. Deep inside, he had his suspicions from the beginning, about the probability of you and him really working out. To be honest - they were slim to none. You were both just too headstrong for each other. So when things started to get sour, he just knew he was right all along, and yet he still couldn't just let you go.

“Where is this coming from? I thought we both wanted this..” You moved to sit on the coffee table in front of the couch where Ben was seated, frowning at him. “What changed, Ben?”

You had brought up the idea of starting a family together again. You and Ben had had long talks about kids beforehand, too, but now you felt like it would've been perfect timing. Because you knew very well that your biological clock kept ticking away. You wouldn't have endless chances for a family of your own. Something that you never really had before. And you wanted one with him. Despite the arguing, you wanted to push through them to come out stronger and create something beautiful together with him.

Ben saw how you tried to control yourself, not to burst emotionally. He barely met your teary look as you reached for his hands, but before you managed to catch him, he stood up from the couch. He knew. Of course he knew how him pulling away from you hurt more than anything he could say.

Staring at you from the other side of the room he still said nothing to you. It hurt to see that the wall, you had already tore down once before, was back up again, stronger than ever. You bit down on your lip before sighing heavily. “So we're not going to even talk about this? You're going to give me the silent treatment? What's next? You'll walk out on me again?”

Ben watched you warily as you stood up and started to walk towards him. “What are you afraid of? Please, Ben… just talk to me…” You were tired from all of this and had started to give up hope. Getting him to talk in this state was like speaking to a wall. Because that's what he was, standing on the kitchen door, not even having balls enough to look you into your eyes.

You had an idea why Ben was acting the way he did, but you needed to hear that from him, too. If only he'd talk. If only he'd let you know what he was thinking in those moments.

But Ben was sure you wouldn't have been so happy to hear his thoughts, especially, when every last one of the rational ones had told him to walk away from you. Maybe he should've trusted his gut. Maybe things would’ve turned out differently.

Many times Ben did walk away, leaving you alone for the night. It was usually only for one night at a time, but the time away from him you spent sleeplessly laying in bed, wondering when or if it's ever going to stop. Sometimes it was you who couldn't stay the night home. While you had no idea where exactly Ben went when he left, you really had only one person to go to. And Ben hated him. Of course he never told you that he knew where you went, but he followed you. Every single time. Even after arguing, he just had to make sure you were still safe. And if going to Harvey's kept you safe, well, he had no other option but to accept it.

“Last drink. We're closing in 10.”

With a barely noticeable flinch, Ben was brought out of the memories. He looked around and saw that the bar was now almost completely empty.

Where the fuck am I supposed go now? Ben thought to himself as he stepped into the night and left the bar behind him. Letting out a disgruntled sigh he reached for his pocket to pull out a pack of cigarettes and lit one up. He hated that feeling that took over him. He hated that he still wasn't able to let go. He hated being seen as vulnerable and weak and now even just a thought of you managed to make him feel just like that. He hated that you still had such power over him. It has been almost a year since the incident.

Officially - the accident was marked down as a gas explosion. Unofficially - Ben had lost his shit. Again. Big time.

He didn't even really care how they explained what was left of the apartment or the rest of the building. What mattered to him was that he lost you and he had no one else to blame but himself.

You were gone. Just like that.

“Ben, you are nothing like your father. You will not turn into him.”

Ben did talk to you at some point, but as always, it turned into an argument. But finally he did confirm your thoughts about why he was so afraid to start a family with you.

“How do you know that? I'm all kinds of fucked up, Y/N. More than him for sure. I shouldn't have kids.”

His voice was quiet, but it hurt you to your core. You had talked about this for so many times and you were even a little surprised by how excited Ben always seemed about kids and having a family, then something changed. Suddenly he didn't want that anymore.

But it wasn’t just the fear of being a bad father that held him back. It had come to the point where Ben was certain he was holding you back. You could’ve been with someone so much better than him. With someone who you could talk with without turning the conversation into another fight.

In all those moments that you and Ben argued, he was always thinking the same things. How did you put up with him? Why hadn't you left yet? But he never dared to ask them out loud, afraid that you'd come to your senses and would actually leave him.

This was one of these nights again when no matter how hard he tried, Ben couldn't get you off his mind. The more time he spent thinking of you, the more he felt that familiar feeling of rage raising its head. And the memories of your last moments together only fueled it.

It was early in the morning when Ben had just gotten home from wherever he went when you two fought. He was expecting you to be asleep, so he could crash on the couch for a few hours, but you were sitting there and he couldn't help but feel a little annoyed at the fact that you clearly hadn't let go of that last argument yet. Ben stood at the door for a moment, just looking at you, contemplating whether or not he should just turn around again, to save himself from another inevitable fight. Cursing in his head, Ben rolled his eyes and walked straight to the fridge in the kitchen. You watched him in silence as he made himself food, after a minute you decided to speak up.

“Ben, I'm done.”

He stopped halfway biting the sandwich when he heard your voice. “What'd you say?”

“I'm done,” you repeated. “I didn't want to just disappear on you, but I'm leaving. We…it's going nowhere…I don't want to keep doing this..” you waved between both of you.

Ben continued to eat his sandwich. This was all something that you've said before - ‘I’m done. I can't do this. I'm leaving.’ But you never could go through with it. Each of those times he practically begged you to stay because he knew what you wanted to hear. That he still wants you. He had a horrible way of showing it, but he truly did want you.

This time he decided to finish his sandwich first, but the pit in his stomach sank deeper by the second as the realization started to kick in. You were really serious this time.

“Ain't like I haven't heard that before.” Ben scoffed, putting his plate back to the table probably a little harder than he should’ve, trying to deflect his feelings. He refused to show you the disappointment and hurt that he really felt hearing your words. You were about to leave him, like everyone else in his life had done before. He can't say he was surprised. He did have half the blame for that. It was more like he was counting days for that to happen. But even if he was expecting it to happen, it didn't mean he was happy with it.

“That's all you have to say?” You kept your eyes fixed on him as you spoke, watching as he slowly started to approach you.

He walked towards you, stopping by the coffee table and looked down on you sitting on the sofa. “What do you want me to say? Do I have to start begging you to stay? To not leave me like all others have?” It sounded almost like he hissed at you. “We've been through that all before. You know that you don't want to go. Not really.”

“You know what? No. I don't want to go, but we're going nowhere like this. I was clear with you about one thing that I've always dreamed of. And I thought you wanted the same. You told me you did.”

“Well…I guess I changed my mind.”

You clenched your jaw hearing his words. This just made you realize that all these fights have been for nothing. All those countless sleepless hours you spent alone were for nothing. You were hoping for Ben to change his mind while he was waiting for you to drop that topic and move on. Neither of you were happy like this, and neither was ready to give in. It wouldn't have been fair to either of you to ‘give in’. Not on such matters.

“Well…I guess I did too, then..” You said quietly and got up from the couch.

For some reason hearing that angered Ben even more, despite knowing that would've been for the best. He was hurting you. You were hurting him. It shouldn’t have been so hard for both of you to walk away from each other.

Ben tried to hide the pain he felt in his heart. He knew he couldn't be alone again. He actually didn't want to be, but this time it started to seem like he would not be able to make you stay. He still had to try.

“Wait…don't…please, just..stay...” He grabbed your hand to stop you from leaving. His grip was almost bruising.

“I can't do this anymore, Ben. The fights and…a-and arguments have become the new normal to us. It shouldn't be that way. You know that.”

“So you're giving up on us? On me? You promised you wouldn't do that to me, love.” He could feel the anger rising in his chest.

You used to love when Ben used different little pet names for you. Now hearing him call you ‘love’ just brought back memories that you wished you could've locked away.

“Don't call me that, Ben. You promised me that we’d start a family together. I am not giving up on us. I'm trying to give both of us a chance to be happy. And it's clear that it's not happening when…when we're together. We can't have these same conversations and fights over and over again when it’s clear that neither of us would change our mind. I am just tired of this.”

Half your words reached Ben like through a wall. He knew this was it. You were going to leave him. It felt like he was being betrayed by the woman he loved all over again. Despite trying to keep a leveled head, he could feel the anger and silent rage growing; spreading in his chest with burning heat. He knew this was heading to a point of no return. He could see from your eyes that you had quickly realized it, too as you started to pull away yourself from his grip.

“Ben, calm down. Please…take-take a deep breath. I'm sorry…don't do this …”

You were apologizing. You were apologizing for something that wasn't your fault, in hopes to reverse the action. Deep down both of you knew there was nothing he could do. This wasn't something he could turn off. He was too far gone for that. His breathing got heavier by the second, your words only feeding the anger. And it all was happening so fast for him to react in any way. He couldn't control himself any longer.

“Ben, just let me go! Don’t…Please let me go…Ben, please—”

You were panicking, for a good reason, but it was too late.

He shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut to get rid of the images of that morning. He couldn’t see the pain and fear in your eyes that he had caused not a second longer. Ben had spent a long, long time thinking of why or how he even had found you. He didn’t know exactly how he had ended up at your office that night two years ago. And he most definitely wouldn’t have expected after confronting you that Butcher’s ‘friend’, who he had called to babysit Ben, was you. You were just supposed to stay with him for a week. You ending up in his bed and in his heart was not what was supposed to happen.

Maybe it really was fate that put you on his path. To guide him to do something different. To be better.

Even the thought of that almost made Ben laugh. All fate had to do with this was that perhaps it was just his destiny to hurt and be hurted.

He took a long last drag of the cigarette and opened his eyes again while slowly exhaling the smoke, watching it linger in the air around him, before he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground, putting it out with his shoe. He should’ve known better than to fall in love. Nothing good ever comes out of it.

Ben let out a heavy sigh. It was clear that he wasn't simply getting you out of his head tonight. Now his remaining options were either this or that. Why not both, Ben thought as he pulled out his phone, looking through his contacts. He had collected quite a list of names to choose from during the last few months. Lately he started to need more and more distractions, still not knowing how to deal with losing you.

Some of those girls always had something more to offer him than just themselves. And despite it being late at night (or rather early morning), he knew that not one of the girls would say ‘no’ to him. Each girl was hooked on him, just as he was on you.

He dialed the number of Raven. Probably not a real name, but in this modern world he had come back to, he couldn't be sure. Not that he really cared about her name.

“Hello, darlin’..” he drawled into the phone when he heard her soft voice greeting him back. “I know you were sleeping, but I was wondering…you got room for one more in that bed of yours?”

A slow smirk came onto his lips when he could sense her perking up from sleep.

“Sure, Ben…I'll…I'll be waiting for you…” she answered almost coyly, already knowing what to wait for when he would call at this time of the night.

“I'll be there soon then, sweetheart…”

Ben wasn't going to waste any more time. The sooner he got to her place, the sooner he'd get you out of his head. For the night. He knew one day you'd probably be a mere memory for him, but until that day, he needed to accept all the help to try and forget you.

Taglist - (Always open - If you want to be added, let me know in the comments!) -

@jackles010378 @nescavaneck @cevansbaby-dove @deanwinchestersgirl87 @winchesterwild78 @nightxcreature @anundyingfidelity @suckitands33 @waynes-multiverse

#jacklesversebingo24 #soldier boy #soldier boy x reader #soldier boy x you #soldier boy angst #angst #jensen ackles #soldier boy fanfiction #jensen ackles fanfiction

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afriendtoravens · 2 days ago

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⸻

Regis' laugh in response was slightly muffled by the pillow beneath his cheek. His eyes were already closed as he hummed, wanting a good night's sleep for the pair of them. Beauty sleep, though? The thought amused him greatly. Nothing would be mixing those features of his and he knew it. He nearly chuckled.

He dozed off shortly after, relaxed enough to let his mind wander after the long day and a wonderful turn of events. Finding Geralt again had been wonderful, indeed. This new adventure he was about to undertake would be something incredible. Having a real home for the first time in so long came as such a comfort.

In the wee hours, he was awakened by a gentle rapping at the door. Soft knuckles were knocking at the old wood and he groaned into the pillow his face was currently (and rather messily) shoved into.

Reaching out blindly, he nudged Geralt's shoulder.

"Please deal with her," he said, voice rough with sleep. "My witcher in shining armor."

-----

"I'm trying here."

Geralt huffed a laugh of his own and glanced sideways at Regis, or more specifically the back of Regis' head as the man settled in for sleep.

"Besides, do you know how rare 'nice' is in my life?"

It wasn't really a question, just a way to respond as he shifted a little himself, stretching his legs beneath the covers to get comfy. It was a rare treat indeed to sleep in a bed like this, even a creaky, old wooden one in an inn. He knew, or he hoped at least, that Regis got the gist of what he'd very poorly attempted to say.

"Hmn," he rumbled in reply staring at the ceiling for a moment before letting his eyes slip closed. "I'd forgotten about that. Don't worry, I'll keep you safe."

There was a tiny, sharp edge of amusement to the words as much as a promise woven in there.

"Now go to sleep. Even vamps need their beauty sleep."

#v: conversations in the dark #bloodandwhite

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sleepyparalysisdmon · 3 days ago

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2 Minus 1 - Act Two

Seungcheol is doing good without you. Really good, in fact! He’s got a great job, has his own apartment, and has many friends surrounding him. He’s even done some dating in the three years that you’ve been gone. On some blissful days, you don’t even cross his mind. But when you reappear in his life, he has to come to terms with the fact that he might not be doing as good as he thought he was.

Genres: ANGST with a little bit of fluff here and there.

Word count: 6.4k

Requested? Yes!

You can find the series masterlist here.

Seungcheol stretches with a groan as soon as he hangs up the phone. He’s worked through the normal lunch hour and normally wouldn’t do that, but the client he needed to speak with is in a different time zone and he said he was flexible. It’s not a lie, but still, his stomach grumbles loudly at the thought of food, or rather the smell that’s wafting into his office when the door opens.

“Man, am I happy to see you,” he says jokingly as Minghao sets a styrofoam box on the corner of his desk. Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan have piled in as well, making themselves comfortable on the couch in the corner and in the chairs in front of Seungcheol’s desk. They’re incredibly casual considering he’s their manager. They go out for dinner and drinks regularly, even on the weekends, and aren’t afraid to poke fun at each other outside of meetings with higher ups. He considers them friends, really. Friends that prop their feet up on his desk or lie down on his couch at 1pm for a nap. Seungcheol’s too busy stuffing his face to get after them about any of it right now.

“How was the meeting?” Minghao asks. Objectively, he’s the most responsible of his team and Seungcheol often delegates to him when he can’t handle something himself, and is always assured that Minghao will handle it with grace. Seungkwan, Vernon, and Chan look totally unconcerned about the meeting that will impact their future workload right now. They’ll buckle down when they have to, no doubt, but today is not the day.

“Fine. They have a few more requests for the contract, so I added them to the list for a few weeks from now.” Seungcheol doesn’t care if they can understand him through bites. He’ll have to repeat all of this in front of his supervisor and them tomorrow anyway.

“Oh! Speaking of which, guess who we ran into?” Chan pipes up. Seungcheol shrugs. He doesn’t feel like guessing and it doesn’t look like he has to wait long because the three youngest members look excited. “Your friend, Y/N. The one you introduced us to on your birthday? She works in contracts now.”

Seungcheol pauses. Stops chewing all together. Swallows. Drops his chopsticks. And drops his head into his hands. “Oh my god,” he mumbles.

There’s a long pause around the room before Vernon carefully asks, “Is that a bad thing? I thought you two were friends. Did I misread that?”

Seungcheol is still groaning. “Why me? Why now? What did I do to deserve this?”

Minghao’s eyes widen, and then he’s standing up, closing Seungcheol’s office door so this little breakdown isn’t heard by anyone else. “Okay, what’s the deal?” Seungcheol doesn’t respond and Minghao says his name a little more forcefully.

Seungcheol sighs, sitting back up though he looks distressed. His phone rings and he lets it go to voicemail. “It’s a long story,” he says, hoping that they’ll have a short attention span today.

“What? Do you guys have history or something?” Seungkwan asks. When Seungcheol is silent, Seungkwan simply mumbles, “Oh.”

“You know, I thought it was a little suspicious that you didn’t actually describe someone you’ve known your whole life as a friend. We just made the assumption that she was,” Minghao starts. “Tell us,” he all but demands.

“No,” Seungcheol huffs. “Go back to work.” No one moves a muscle, staring at him expectantly. Vernon even appears to be getting more comfortable on the couch. Seungcheol huffs again. “Fine. We used to date. It’s awkward now. End of story.”

Minghao nods, humming. “So it didn’t end well, then.”

Seungcheol scoffs at the man he considers to be his best friend nowadays. “What don’t you get about ‘end of story’?”

“Oh, we get it. We just don’t care,” Seungkwan sasses. “Now what’s the rest of that story? There has to be more.”

Resigned to the fact that they won’t be leaving him alone to crawl in a hole and die anytime soon, Seungcheol leans back in his chair, arms crossed and food forgotten. Y/N had that affect on him, forgetting about food and sleep and everything else important. The phone rings again and he ignores it. Over the ringing, he starts telling them the story.

He’s known her literally since he was born. Their fathers are friends and Seungcheol and Y/N happened to be born a day apart. They were inseparable for their whole lives and started dating when they were in college after he'd pined for an embarrassingly long time. Then came the news that she’d be moving for grad school. Seungcheol admits he hadn't taken it well and couldn’t maintain contact with her once she left. And now she's moved back and every interaction they’ve had to have so far has been totally suffocating to him. But, they share a ton of mutual friends and those interactions are unavoidable.

There’s a few beats of silence before Seungkwan runs his mouth again. “Ah. So you're not over it, then.”

Anger floods Seungcheol’s veins. “What?! It’s been over three years. Of course, I’m over it. I’m better off, in fact,” he insists vehemently. No one says anything and Seungcheol’s lips are falling into a small pout. “It’s just that it’s awkward now. We spent every second together for over 20 years before she left and now I don’t feel like I even know her.”

Chan shrugs. “Well, she’s back. Just get to know her again. I mean, people can change a lot in a few years, but that doesn’t mean you can’t be friends again.” He makes it sound so simple and it makes Seungcheol’s head feel like it might explode.

“No, I won’t be doing that,” he snaps, frustration bleeding into every word.

Minghao nods, shrugging. “Fine, don’t fix a life long friendship,” he says evenly and it takes Seungcheol aback a bit. “But can you be civil? We’ll have to work with her department often when this contract freeze is over. She might even take the lead on some of them.”

Seungcheol chews on the inside of his cheek for a long moment before finally saying, “Yeah, I’ll be civil.” Not that they needed to know, but the last thing he really wanted to be was mean to you. He just wasn’t sure how friendly he could be if it would twist the knife that you left in his chest.

It’s been a week since you started working here, and Seungcheol has managed to not see you yet. Not that it’s stopped his team from asking about it every single day. ‘Have you seen Y/N yet?’ ‘Have you talked to her?’ ‘Just ran into Y/N downstairs!’ He’s been brusque about responding to these little questions and comments, doing his best to appear busy, although his email is slow and his calendar is pretty empty.

It’s Minghao who eventually calls him out for the avoidance. “You know I can see your calendar, right? And you haven’t sent me anything to work on, which usually means you have a good handle on the things on your plate. So how long are you going to avoid seeing her? She’s quite literally below our feet.”

Forever, he wants to say at first. He shrugs and says he has some things he needs to get done so Minghao will let him breathe. But the comment gets him thinking because he never would have said that before. Not in a million years - he wasn’t attached to you for over 20 years for nothing. He’s not sure he really means it now. And everything else aside, not popping in to say hi to someone he’s known for over two decades and is now working on the floor right below him is not so civil. It’s only a matter of time before he runs into you in the hallway, cafeteria, or elevator. And there’s that pesky meeting on his calendar with your department.

So he stops by the tenth floor on his way back up from lunch, knocking on the door after a mini pep talk. Seokmin turns from his computer, greeting him. Seungcheol likes Seokmin. He doesn’t know anyone who doesn’t. “Hey, man. How’s it going?”

“Not bad. Pretty light load right now,” Seokmin answers. “I hear you’ll be changing that soon.”

Seungcheol shrugs good-naturedly with a chuckle. “Yeah, unfortunately, it’s part of my job description.” His eyes wander to the other side of the office and he knows it’s yours. Last month, when he stopped by to ask Seokmin a question, the desk was totally empty with not even a desk chair behind it. Now, it’s got a few succulents, a couple pictures, a cup of brightly colored pens. “Is Y/N in today?”

Seokmin’s eyes perk up and then Seungcheol hears a little cough behind him. He steps back so you can step inside. “Looking for me?” You give him a little smile, setting a coffee mug on Seokmin’s desk and then one on your own.

It kind of burns him up inside how casual you are, but he doesn’t know what he expected, so he clears his throat. “Yeah. I heard you were working here now, so I thought I’d come say hi and welcome you, all that stuff.”

“Oh! That’s nice of you, Seungcheol,” you say in your typical sweet voice, but the words burn him up too. Particularly his full first name. He was never ‘Seungcheol’ before. Always ‘Cheol’. The newfound formality makes him squirm.

“How are you settling in? Is Seokmin being a good roommate?” Seungcheol tries to keep his voice light, teasing even.

Something in your eyes light up and it kind of feels like a gut punch, because in so many ways it feels the same and it so many ways it feels like it never could be the same again. “Oh, Seokmin’s great. We’re besties now.” You pass a friendly smile to Seokmin, who returns it. Yeah, Seungcheol likes Seokmin, but something deep, deep inside him wishes you didn’t. He feels stupid for that. You continue on. “And as for settling in, there hasn't been much to settle into yet. I hear we’ll get something to work on next week though?”

Seungcheol nods. “Yeah. We’ll see you guys and Mrs. Jang next week to talk about contract requirements. Nothing crazy. It’s pretty run of the mill stuff. We’ll see how much you learned in law school.” He hopes it comes off as a joke and not an insult, but he sees the corner of your lips twitch downwards and he knows it’s landed wrong. He’s way too proud and perhaps a little too bitter still to apologize.

Still, you shrug. “It wasn’t cheap or easy, so I hope I learned something.”

That awkwardness that he thinks he’ll never get used to with you starts to seep back in, so he makes an excuse that he needs to get back upstairs, waving to you and Seokmin on the way out. Back at his desk, he slumps, head on his desk again. That definitely twisted the knife.

The meeting twists the knife too. He always knew you were sweet. He’d watch you effortlessly win people over with your charm all his life and had never felt an ounce of bitterness about it. But still, he’s surprised when you win over his supervisor within just a few minutes before the meeting even starts. Mr. Park is a hard ass and it took Seungcheol nearly two years of tireless work to win his approval and get the management position that he has now. You won him over simply by mentioning your most recent alma mater and speaking fondly of it. Turns out that Mr. Park went there as well for his MBA. Small world.

Beyond that, you don’t say much in this meeting. It’s up to Seungcheol’s team to present the contract requirements and hand them off to your department, and it’s a blessedly short meeting because your department will need some time to draft things up and gather questions. Seungcheol takes a long lunch after the meeting to walk around the block and work off the feelings that are bubbling inside of him. He also ignores his teams’ stares when he passes by their office on the way back to his. They aren’t subtle about how every single one of them peer over their cubicle walls like they’ve been waiting for him to come back.

It’s almost time to go home when Minghao comes in by himself. “So. That went well this morning, didn't it?” He starts conversationally, sitting in one of the chairs on the other side of Seungcheol’s desk.

“Sure,” Seungcheol says shortly, trying to wrap up an email. “Jang’s team has always been good. I didn't expect any trouble.”

“Oh, I’m not concerned about that. I was talking about you being civil with your ex… whatever you guys are. You were very smooth, actually. Not that I’m supposed to tell you, but the kids were taking bets.”

Seungcheol stops typing, looking out of the corner of his eye. “Don’t you guys have work to do? I’m sure there's a rule about betting in the personnel manual anyway.” He doesn’t bother reminding Minghao that he's only a year or two older than any of them and calling them ‘kids’ is a stretch, regardless of how much more responsibility Minghao pulls around here.

“No,” Minghao chuckles. “You haven’t assigned us anything this week. They’ve been playing darts for days. Tournament style. A few people from other departments have joined.” Seungcheol rolls his eyes because he most certainly told them to take that dart board home. He doesn’t want to explain to his supervisor or anyone else really. “Anyway, it was a bet about paying for lunch. No money is directly trading hands. I looked it up, it’s technically allowed.”

Seungcheol shakes his head, hitting send and then leaning back in his seat. “Don’t make me go to HR to find out if you're right, Hao. There’s a difference between ‘allowed’ and ‘loophole’.” Minghao looks totally unaffected by the threat, so Seungcheol moves on. “Who won the bet then?”

“Chan. Seungkwan bet that you’d be mean. Vernon bet that you’d look totally lovesick. Chan bet that you’d be avoidant.”

“Avoidant?” Seungcheol reels back. He can’t deny the urge to be both mean and lovesick, but avoidant? “How did that one win? I sat across from her. I talked to her.”

“No,” Minghao shakes his head. “You at no point spoke directly to her. Didn’t really look at her either.” Seungcheol falls silent because he’s not sure what to say. “I understand that you didn’t want to be honest with the kids, but you know I can keep a secret. So what’s really going on?”

He feels like he’s 22 again, sitting at the table in his crappy student apartment, about to get a knife shoved in his chest. If only he could go back and give himself a heads up not to think too hard about the future. He’s looking out of the window behind him when he starts talking. “You know, I was planning to propose? Maybe not right away, but we’d talked about moving in together and it felt right, you know? Then she rips my heart out and moves across the world a few weeks later. Never mind the fact that we’d been attached at the hip for our whole lives. It would have hurt without the dating.”

Minghao hums sympathetically. “I can understand some bitterness.” It’s not some, he wants to say. He’s been choking on it for three years if he thinks about it for too long. “How long had you been into her?”

Seungcheol shakes his head, shrugging. “A decade? I don’t know. It was always going to be her, it seems. Which makes everything harder.”

“Makes some sense,” Minghao says, and Seungcheol snaps his head to him, looking confused. “Of what little dating you’ve done since then, nothing has lasted. You didn’t seem that interested in the first place, really. It was always going to be her and it’s still her. That’s okay, really, if you just come to terms with it.”

That bitterness is constricting his throat more and more by the second. “How the fuck do I come to terms with that? I’m angry, Hao. It’s been three years and I’m still angry.”

“So, tell her,” Minghao shrugs. Seungcheol scoffs again, getting sick of how casual his friends are about this. “No, I’m serious. Lay it all out on the table so maybe you two can salvage something out of this awkward situation. You’re telling me you don’t want to recover anything with someone you’ve known your entire life? Nothing at all? You’d prefer to pretend she doesn't exist?”

He doesn’t know. He couldn’t be your friend when you left, and he doesn't think he can be your friend now. The possibility of being more with you again now that you’re back flashes through his mind like you two can pick up where you left off and he wants to light the idea on fire. No, he wants to light himself on fire before he gives you the chance to hurt him like that again. Still, he hates the longing that he feels, thinking about what it was like when it was good. It was good for a long time, even when it was unrequited.

Minghao must realize that he won’t get an answer right now, so he slaps the edge of the desk lightly, standing up. “Come on. We’re going out for drinks. You look like you could use one and you’ve probably just been wiggling your mouse all day anyway.”

Seungcheol locks his computer and grabs his things. He could use a few drinks, actually, as long as his friends can avoid this conversation in front of him.

Seungcheol gets up early on Saturday. Normally, he would sleep in and just do a few things around his apartment that were neglected throughout the week. Maybe go out with his friends later that night. But he’s been tense for weeks now, snapping at little things only to want to wallow in despair later when alone in his office. Minghao’s bluntly told him he’s being unpleasant, so he’s been hitting the gym harder lately to work out some of this frustration. He plans to go put himself through a long, excruciating work out since he has the time for it today.

He runs for way longer on the treadmill than he normally would, but there’s something satisfying about the thud of his feet hitting the track that keeps him going until he feels unsteady. He’s dripping sweat by the time he gets to the weights and he stacks them high, going heavier than he usually would. Each pump of iron reduces some of the stress and by the time he walks out, he’s drop dead tired and aching all over, but his mind is blissfully blank.

He stops by a coffee shop around the corner and gets his order to-go. When he comes out of the elevator on his apartment floor, he comes to a halt fast. There’s a couch in the way. Must be a new neighbor, he thinks. Someone moved out a few months ago and the unit next to his has been vacant since.

Seungcheol sips his coffee, patiently watching the couch move. And nearly spits out that coffee all over the couch when he sees whose carrying the tail end of the couch. “Mingyu? What are you doing here?” He asks, surprised.

Mingyu’s eyes are bright, despite the struggle of maneuvering the couch. “Hey, Cheol! It’s move in day!”

“Oh!” Seungcheol cries out. “You’re moving in? Is Wonwoo coming with you?”

“No!” Wonwoo’s voice echoes down the hall. He must be on the front end of the couch. “I would never want to be your neighbor. We aren’t the ones moving anyway,” he laughs.

Seungcheol can step out of the elevator now and trails behind them. “Mean. I thought we were friends,” he laughs. “Who’s my new neighbor then? Anyone I know?” He kind of assumes it is since he shares so many mutual friends with them.

“Help us get this around the corner and find out,” Mingyu grunts. Seungcheol drops his things off in his apartment and meets them next door, helping them angle the furniture into the doorway.

The couch is inside the main room of the apartment when Wonwoo finally yells out. “Hey, come tell us where you want this!”

“Coming!” A voice calls out from down the hall. Seungcheol’s stomach drops. Who else would Wonwoo and Mingyu be moving in, now that he thinks about it? You barrel around the corner, lugging a box in your hands. It lands on the floor in the corner with a thud. You look surprised to see him. “Oh, hey, Cheol. Joining the move in party?”

He knows you're not serious, but still he shrugs because he's at a loss for words. Wonwoo’s clearing his throat to bring the focus back to the task at hand. You gesture to a particular spot and Wonwoo and Mingyu slide it into place. “That's the last of the big stuff,” Mingyu announces. “Just boxes left now.” He turns to Seungcheol. “Got plans or are you up for a few trips? Y/N has promised beer and pizza as payment.”

Seungcheol doesn’t give a shit about beer or pizza or payment. He’s spiraling a little because he just started feeling better after a long work out, damn it! But he’s never been known to turn down helping you, and he could really use a second work out now. So he makes multiple trips downstairs to the truck, helping them get everything in. And he does stay for a beer and a couple slices of pizza, but is really relieved when he gets a message from Chan asking if anyone wants to go out for drinks. He does, if only to have a good reason to escape your apartment.

There’s a knock on his door on Thursday night. When he opens it, his eyes flare in surprise. You look a little awkward waiting outside. He’s done some serious avoiding since you moved in on Saturday and either you’ve let him or you’re doing your own avoiding up until now. Still, he gives you an awkward smile. “Hey, Y/N. What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you,” you start, shifting from foot to foot. “I just checked the mail and found a note that a package was delivered, but I think it might have actually come to you? Did you happen to get anything?”

He holds the door open, gesturing for you to step inside. “I got something, but haven't looked at it yet. Come in and I’ll check.”

You trail after him to his small dining room table that resembles more of a desk, what with the clutter of mail, an assortment of snacks, and a laptop. Seungcheol’s kept his second room as a spare bedroom because his friends like to crash here when they go out, so this has become an impromptu workspace over the years. Still, he tries to subtly organize things as he reaches for the small package, picking it up to read the label. “Oh yeah, this is for you,” he says, handing it over.

“Thanks,” you say, relieved. An awkward beat passes and you look like you might bail now that you have what you came here for. But Seungcheol opens his mouth first for some unknown reason.

“How are you settling in?”

Your shock is clear for a split second but you recover quickly. “Oh, it’s fine. Nicer than the apartment I had back in California, that's for sure. Thanks for asking.”

“Of course.” He’s surprised by how he means it. “Let me know if I can help with anything as you get unpacked.”

You don't recover from your shock this time. “You’d… do that? Help me, I mean.”

His eyebrows furrow. “Y/N, when have I ever not helped you? I’ve been doing that since before we both could walk.”

Your eyes look a little watery as you bite your lip. It’s a look he’s seen before and it tugs at his heartstrings a little. “I just figured things might have changed too much for that to be true anymore, you know? I would understand if it has.”

Your acceptance that he might not want to be in your life anymore twists the knife more than any of your casualness since you’ve moved back. It makes him angry because he never wanted space from you in the first place. Sternly he says, “It hasn’t changed. Not like that anyway. Just call or come over, okay?”

After a few beats, you finally nod. “Thanks, Cheol. And thanks for the package. I’ll let you get back to whatever you were doing. Have a good night, okay?” He watches you close the door behind you on your way out, but he doesn’t move for a long time. It’s hours later while he’s lying in bed when he remembers. He grabs his phone off the charger, unblocking you on everything. It’s kind of hard for you to reach out for help if he doesn’t do that. And he kind of hopes you will call, even if it just for a package mixed up in the mail. Even if it hurts to be around you, because Seungcheol realizes Minghao’s been right with all of his lectures lately. He should really try to salvage something with you.

You send him a text the following Sunday. Initially, you’re trying to make sure he still has the same number - which he does. Then you ask if he’s up for hanging some things on the wall for you. You say you’ll feed him as payment, but that has so little to do with him sliding on shoes and walking next door at 10am. You actually look happy to see him when you open your door, not just neutral like you have been since moving back.

“Hey, Cheol. Come on in.” Once he’s in and his shoes are off, you’re leading him to your kitchen. “Thanks for doing this. Wonwoo’s threatened me not to climb on anything, which would make it nearly impossible for me to do this myself.”

This brings some levity to the situation for Seungcheol in a weird way. Lovingly making fun of her clumsiness, just like he did for years and years before she left. The familiarity is warm and suffocating at the same time, but still he chuckles. “And he’s right for threatening you about that. You’d be dangerous on a ladder or stool.”

You’re chuckling too, placing a mug of coffee in front of him. “I know. I ruin everything. I’d probably put extra holes in the wall too before I break a bone. Pancakes okay?”

“Sure,” Seungcheol shrugs, sipping on his coffee. It brings a stupid wave of emotions because you remembered how he likes his coffee and has prepared it to perfection. He tells himself that it’s because you have years of practice in college and it shouldn’t be something special but it is. He’s thankful that you have your back turned, grabbing things from the cabinet, and miss that it’s made him a little misty-eyed. “How are you liking the job?”

You glance over your shoulder and shrug. “It’s alright.”

Your disinterested tone surprises him. He assumes you took this job because it was a direction you wanted to go after graduating, but you lack the passion he would have expected if that was the case. “Not what you had in mind?”

“No, it’s not that,” you drawl out, sighing. “My number one priority was coming home. In some ways, I took the first offer I got to do so. I’m not sure exactly what I want to do with my degree now that I have it.” Your laugh is incredibly humorless and he’s sure your expression would crush him if he could see it. “Isn’t that stupid?”

“No,” he says genuinely. It does burn him up inside to think that you might have left for nothing in a way, but he never wants to tell you that. In moments of clarity while you were gone, he did feel some pride that you were pursuing something you seemed passionate about. And on the heels of that, regrets that he didn’t just tell you that when you made your little announcement. “When did that change though? A few years ago, you were so excited for the program and where it would take you.”

He sees your shoulders tense at the mention of the breakup, no matter how delicately he was trying to tiptoe around it. But any discussion of her leaving would always tie back to that. “I guess I didn’t realize how many different things I could do with my degree outside of being a lawyer. I always had this image that I’d take the bar and find a practice and be in court everyday. I was about halfway through my degree when I realized the traditional career path might not be for me. Everyone keeps asking when I’m taking the bar and I’m not sure what to tell them, because it might be never now.”

Seungcheol mulls this over for a long time, letting you mix the batter, pour it into the pan, wait, flip, repeat. You have a decent stack of pancakes before he finally speaks. “That’s okay, Y/N. You shouldn’t stress about that. I mean, look at Jang. She’s got a law degree and has been in Contracts for longer than we’ve been alive. The non-traditional path is fine.”

“Maybe,” you mumble, flipping off the burner and bringing the full plate over to him. “Want anymore coffee? Fruit?” It’s clear to him that this part of the conversation is over, so he lets you bounce around the kitchen for a few things before finally sitting across from him. That tinge of awkwardness is still ever present, but he’s relieved that you two can move on to something else. Wonwoo and Mingyu. Seokmin. Seungcheol’s friends. Law school. It sort of, kind of, maybe feels like he can be your friend again, even if it looks and feels a little different.

After breakfast, he helps you clean up. Then he lets you hand him dozens of things to hang throughout the apartment. Your diplomas. Photos of your family. Photos of you and your brothers. A few of you and him as kids, teenagers, and college students, which makes him misty-eyed again. A couple with what he assumes were friends from law school. A few of you and Jeonghan, someone you both went to high school with.

“Didn’t know you knew Jeonghan that well,” he asks, hoping it sounds casual.

“We went to law school in California together. We were close. Still are.”

Seungcheol does his best to mask his awkwardness by teasing. “He had a massive crush on you back in high school, you know?”

You chuckle, handing him another thing to hang. “He told me.”

“Didn’t make a move, did he?” He’s joking, at first anyway. But you’re quiet as you hand him the next thing.

“I guess? We dated for a while. Not that he told me about that crush until it was already over,” you finally admit.

The knife twists. “Oh. Well, I’m sure he’s bummed you left.” He bites his tongue immediately because he didn't mean it like that. Your silence tells him you took it exactly how he wished you didn’t. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that,” he mumbles, abandoning the pride that would usually keep him biting his tongue.

You shake your head up at him. “It was deserved. I’m sorry if it’s awkward to talk about him. Or anything really.”

He focuses on the hook on the back of the next frame. “It shouldn’t be. Of course you dated while you were in California.”

Another pregnant pause. “Did you date?”

He shrugs and it’s genuinely casual because there’s not much to say. “Here and there. Nothing really stuck.”

You hum. “That’s it, I think. Get off the stool before you fall.”

The scolding makes him laugh. “I’m not you. I won’t be falling off.” Still, he climbs down, returning the stool to the kitchen. You meet him at the door, probably assuming he wants to go since he’s been here for hours now. “Thank you, again. You’ve kept my baby brother off my back for now.”

The lightheartedness of the comment crushes him for so many reasons, but mostly that he spent years keeping Wonwoo and Mingyu, and often Bohyuk, off your back. Another thing that’s familiar. He desperately tries to match your lightheartedness when he says, “No problem. You know where to find me.”

At least later today you’ll know where to find him, anyway. He changes into gym clothes and hides out at the gym, working out until he can’t work out anymore.

It’s Christmas and the tradition has always been for the Jeons and Chois to get together. They did it when Seungcheol and his brother and you and your brothers were kids, and it’s a tradition that they’ve maintained despite all of the kids being in their 20s now.

Seungcheol offers to drive you to this get-together. He’s been doing that a lot lately, often times without realizing before the words are out of his mouth. If it’s raining or snowing, he’s offering to drive you to and from work because it’s right there. When the two of you go out with Wonwoo and Mingyu for dinner, he’s driving you home because it’s literally right there. When he needs to go to the grocery store, he asks you if you need anything or want to tag along, because it’s right there. You get the point. You’re right there and he can never seem to forget it.

So Seungcheol waits in your living room while you finish getting ready. He’s already got the gifts you both have purchased for everyone in the car. You come down the hall in a whirlwind, flinging on a coat over your Christmas sweater, tugging on boots. “I’m ready, I’m ready!”

It makes him laugh genuinely. The awkwardness has faded for the most part, replaced by warmth, much like it was before you left. “Not like they’re going to start with out us.”

You scoff, grabbing your bag. “A very Leo attitude of you to have.”

“And you don't have that attitude?” He chortles, meeting you at the door, taking your keys from you to lock up since you seem frazzled.

You snort. “No. Have you met my brothers? Bohyuk will eat both your portion and mine before we can get there if they don't watch him.”

“You act like both my parents and yours aren’t making enough to feed a small army,” Seungcheol scoffs again, leading you into the parking garage. When both of you arrive, it's kind of like you never left. There are even moments where he forgets that you actually did. Watching you put your youngest brother in a headlock for stealing food off your plate. Wonwoo replacing the food from his own plate while you have your back turned. You getting Seungcheol a drink when you get up to get a refill for yourself. Seungcheol’s older brother Seungmin even comments that it’s like the four of you are still children. Mentions of law school can’t even touch the good mood Seungcheol’s in when you both walk to the car much, much later that night to go home.

You’re a little bit giggly when you collapse into the front seat and he can’t help but chuckle. “Baby, I think you had a little too much eggnog.” You roll your eyes dramatically, tugging on your seat belt to try buckling it. It's not going well, so Seungcheol leans into the passenger side to do it for you. “So stubborn,” he chuckles again. “Watch your arm,” he warns, closing the door. Once in his own seat he starts up the car, blasts the heat, and gets on the road. “Did you have fun? First Christmas back with everyone.”

“I did,” you sniffle, and it makes his head snap to you. That’s right. You cry when you drink. The tiniest mention of something that makes you emotional balloons into tears. He’d lost count of how many times he’d let you curl up into his side until the emotion had passed, soothing you along the way. He can’t do that, because he’s driving and because it wouldn’t be a good idea anyway. So he reaches over, palm up for you to hold and you do on instinct. “I missed it. Holidays here, I mean. Hannie and Joshua tried to make Christmas fun there, but it wasn’t the same, you know?”

“I can imagine,” he says soothingly. “It was nice though. You hadn’t seen Bohyuk yet since you moved back, right?”

“He’s a little shit,” you chuckle, but Seungcheol knows the statement is full of love. “It was nice to see Seungmin, too. I hadn’t seen him in a long time.”

Seungcheol hums. “He asks about you all the time. Says he always thought you were a sweet kid.”

“I’m sweet now,” you whine.

This makes a laugh bubble up Seungcheol’s throat. “I know you are, baby.”

You hum, looking kind of sleepy as you lean your head back. “You haven’t called me that in a long time.”

Seungcheol blinks, then realizes what he's said. Not once, but twice. He drives for a few long seconds in silence. “I’m sorry. It slipped. Habit, I guess.”

You’re sniffling again. “No, I like it. It reminds me that maybe you don't hate me.”

He’s lost in thought for the next few minutes, parking in the garage, leading you inside. He takes your keys from you, letting you into your apartment. He helps you change because he’s seen it all already and you’re totally unfazed by it. He helps you get into bed, tucking you in a bit. You’re already half asleep when he strokes your hair a few times. “I don’t hate you. Get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay. Thanks, Cheol.” He can barely make your words out before you’re really out like a light.

The gym is closed so he just lies in bed staring at the ceiling for a while. It’s true. He doesn’t hate you. Could never, really. He just doesn’t know what that means.

#scoups #seungcheol #choi seungcheol #scoups x reader #seungcheol x reader #choi seungcheol x reader #seventeen #svt #seventeen x reader #svt x reader

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the-fiction-witch · 3 days ago

Text

Baby Tully P2

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully (Age Up I suppose) Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - Y/n (wife) Rating - 15 (Childbirth) Word Count - 1607

The storm soon came and began to batter Riverrun with rain, wind and thunder. The waters of the Trident River lapped at the walls in the wind. Y/n woke uncharacteristically early often Oscar woke her for some kisses when he left for his duties and she'd sleep a few more hours till finally getting up around midday. But she was awake before Oscar, She sat up finding her body so uncomfortable and painful but she couldn't figure out why. But the pain only got worse and worse until she had no choice. "Oscar? Oscar?" She spoke up trying to wake but not panic him,

Oscar woke up to the sound of Y/n's voice calling his name. He was immediately alert, sensing that something was wrong. He sat up in bed and looked over at her, his eyes filled with concern. "Yes, my love? What is it? Are you alright?"

"Could you... Call for the maester.".

Oscar's heart skipped a beat at her words. He could see the pain in her eyes and realized something was seriously wrong. Without hesitation, he climbed out of bed and rushed to the door. "I'll get the maester right away. Just hold on a minute, my love." He quickly opened the door and summoned a nearby guard to fetch the maester. As the guard left to find the maester, Oscar returned to the bed and sat down beside Y/n. He took her hand in his, gently stroking it with his thumb. He was struggling to keep his own anxiety at bay, but tried to stay calm for her sake. "The maester is coming. Just hang on a little longer, my love. Everything is going to be alright."

she squeezed his hand as she struggled through the ever-building pain

Oscar held her hand tight, his heart clenching with each squeeze of her hand. He could see the pain etched across her face, and it was all he could do to not panic. "It's going to be alright. The maester is on his way. Just try to stay calm, my love."

the maester soon arrived his chain clinking as he arrives,

Oscar quickly stood up, relief washing over him. He stepped aside to let the maester approach Y/n. "Maester, thank the gods you're here. Something is wrong. She's in a great deal of pain."

"Yes of course my lord Tully." He nodded as he approached the bed he gave Y/n a few checks and hummed contemporary for a moment before he spoke, "yes... Yes... I see the trouble,"

Oscar stayed by Y/n's side, his hand still tightly grasping hers. He listened intently as the maester spoke, his heart pounding in his chest. He was desperate for answers, for reassurance that everything would be alright. "What is it, maester? Please, tell me what's going on."

"There is no need for concern my lord. The lady Tully has merely begun her labours"

A wave of relief washed over Oscar as the maester's words sank in. Labour. Their child was finally on the way. He squeezed Y/n's hand, his expression one of both concern and excitement. "Labour? The baby is coming?"

"Yes early labour for a few hours now I suspect. A few more hours to go but with any luck the lady will deliver before dinner."

Oscar nodded, a mix of excitement and worry warring inside him. A few more hours? The wait would be agonizing, but he knew they had no choice. He looked down at Y/n, his hand still holding hers. "Do you hear that love? Our child is coming. Just a few more hours and we'll get to meet him."

Y/n nodded excited but also terrified. The maester called for maids to fetch water, hot towels and help to arrange and prepare the bed for her labours.

"Now I must ask do you recall the night of conception my lord?" The maester asks,

Oscar was taken back a bit by the unexpected question, but he quickly composed himself, his mind going back to the night their child was conceived. "Yes, I recall the night well. Why do you ask, maester?"

"Well, children even this young are rather creatures of habit. They want to come out... As they went in one may say." He chuckled, "So do you happen to recall the uhh position the lady Tully was in?"

Oscar felt his face turn red at the bluntness of the question, but he understood the need for it. He remembered back to that night, his mind going over the details of their lovemaking. He looked down at Y/n, then back at the maester and responded a little sheepishly. "Yes, I do recall. She was on the edge of the bed, on her back."

the maester Nodded, "Perfect." He then ordered the maids to arrange pillows and supports to keep Y/n comfortable on her back regularly checking on her progress, "Excellent my lady. The baby is coming along smoothly”

Oscar stayed beside her, his hand still holding hers. He was feeling a mix of anticipation and anxiety as he watched the maester check on her progress. "Everything is going well, then? The baby is coming along as they should be?"

"yes almost fully dilated now. Almost time to get working my lady." The maester explained

Y/n was now weeping and choking back her pained whimpers

Oscar squeezed Y/n's hand, his heart clenching at seeing her in so much pain. He wanted so badly to take that pain away, but he knew he could do nothing but watch and support her. "You're doing so well, my love. Just a little longer, and we'll get to meet our little baby Tully."

Y/n nodded squeezing Oscar's hard tightly "...our baby tully..." She muttered as if trying to use it as a crutch for her pain before letting out a scream

Oscar winced at the sound of her scream, hating that there was nothing he could do to take away her pain. He felt his hand being crushed by hers, but he didn't dare withdraw from her grip. "That's right, our little one. Think of it, my love. Soon we'll get to hold our Baby Tully in our arms."

The maester spoke up, starting to give y/n orders. Ordering her to breathe, to push, and all manner of other things, time seemed endless and sickening the longer this all went on. "Push, my lady. The baby is almost here. Push."

Oscar's heart was racing, but he tried to remain calm for Y/n's sake. He looked down at her, encouraging her. "You can do this, my love. You're so strong. Push."

Y/n screamed and cried through every push, crushing Oscar's hand and clawing at their sheets crying and throwing back her head

With each push, Oscar's hand felt as if it was being crushed, but he held fast, not wanting to let go and give Y/n the impression that he was backing away at all. He ached to see her in so much pain, feeling helpless to do anything but offer support and words of encouragement. "That's it, my love. You're almost there, just a little more. You're doing so well."

"ah... Yes... I see..." The maester spoke up, as blood coated his hands, "My lady you must push."

"No... No... I can't do anymore." Y/n cried,

Fear and anxiety clutched at Oscar's heart as he listened to the maester's voice, his hands stained with blood. "You can do it, my love. I know you're tired, I know you're in pain, but our little one is almost here. You have to push just a little more. You must."

"I can't" Y/n cried tears flooding down her face, "it hurts ... So much" she wept, “Please… Please Oscar I can’t do any more…”

Oscar's heart broke at the sight of her tears, the sound of her pained cries. "I know it hurts, my love. But our Baby Tully is right there. You're so close. You're so close. Just a little bit more. You can do this."

“Please no more…”

The Maester met eyes with Oscar a dark look in his eyes. And Oscar knew without a single word what the maester was asking. Whether or not to force Y/n through this unwillingly, or to cut her open and take the baby which would without doubt kill her but perhaps save the baby. Fear and desperation coursed through him. For a moment, Oscar was paralyzed. He could not fathom losing his wife, and being forced to choose between the love of his life or his precious child. He looked back at Y/n, his heart breaking at the sight of her in so much pain and distress. He gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear, his voice soft but firm. "You have to push, my love. I know you're tired, I know you're scared, but I also know how strong you are. You have to be strong for just a little longer, for Baby Tully. Can you do that, for me? Can you push, one more time?"

Y/n wept and screamed out throwing her head back as she pushed as hard as she could, that one push enough to force her body into working on its own. Her body senses what it has to do and acts on its own to get the baby out.

Oscar watched helplessly as Y/n pushed, every muscle in her body working hard to deliver their child. Her tears streamed down her face and her screams filled the air, but she pushed even harder. He could see the pain etched on her features, but he also caught a glimpse of determination in her eyes. "That's it, my love. You're doing it. Just a little more. Our Baby Tully is almost here."

Y/n screamed out once more and suddenly the screams and sound of the storm seemed to silence as a gentle cry began,

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mc-lukanette · 8 hours ago

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As Ladybug, Marinette wasn't sensitive to the cold, but she still shuddered as the sun made way for the moon. Patrol had been particularly exhausting this time around, but now she was free to sit atop the Eiffel Tower with her partner, Viperion, and stare down at the city below.

“Ugh!” She tipped her head back and groaned. “I'm gonna be feeling all that in the morning. You?”

He chuckled, massaging one of his shoulders. “Definitely. I hope you don't have anything important to do tomorrow.”

“Nothing physical,” she replied, grateful for that fact, ”but I can't wait to get home and relax.”

“Me too—” Viperion stopped short, covering his mouth with a hand as he stared off at the sky.

Ladybug squinted at him, concerned. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” he replied. “I was supposed to get groceries today, but...”

“Patrol happened. Trust me, I get it.” Frowning, she asked, “So you don't have any food at home?”

“I have food,” he insisted, though in typical Viperion fashion of reassuring her first and thinking later. “...Fruit, vegetables...”

“That's not dinner,” she chided.

She considered for a moment that she was crossing a line, but they had always cared for each other. In-between fights, interviews, and all other matters, they asked vaguely about the other's personal lives, just deep enough to be considerate but not so much that they were giving away any important details that might reveal their identities. It was a vital part of bonding as a team, in their minds.

“...Listen,” she began, unable to let the matter go after he'd worked so hard alongside her that day, “what if you had dinner with me?”

He hummed, not entirely resistant to the idea but asking the obvious, “How are you going to do that without me knowing anything?”

She rubbed her cheek, thinking hard about it. She knew intuitively that it couldn't have been impossible to have dinner with him without risk involved, but leaving and then coming back with food seemed improper.

It did, however, give her a very funny mental image of her leaping across rooftops with a plate and silverware in her hands.

The biggest problem would be if they'd known each other in real life. Even disregarding her parents showing up to Viperion and Ladybug hanging out in her room, he'd be seeing where she lived and—

...Seeing.

“Ahah!” she exclaimed, grinning to herself as she grabbed the yoyo at her waist. She saw Viperion lean towards her curiously as she dug around inside the magical compartment, brushing aside object after object until she felt the one she wanted.

She made a mental note to talk to Tikki about the lack of advancement in something so magical, then managed to grab what she wanted and pulled it out: a long, red scarf.

She put her yoyo back, then grabbed both ends of the scarf and stretched it, staring at Viperion with purpose. “Do you trust me?”

“Always.”

—————

Carrying Viperion into the little studio of sorts was quite the task, but compared to dealing with whatever nonsense Hawk Moth threw their way, it was nothing. Closing the window behind her, she let Viperion down from her back and checked his face, reaching around to confirm that the knot on the scarf was still tight.

“How's it feel?”

“That's the third time you asked,” he noted with amusement. “It feels soft, and I can't see a thing.”

“Perfect!” She beamed. Extending a hand out to him, she offered, “Here, I'll lead you to the couch.

He reached out, missing on the first attempt, but she caught his hand and slowly took him across the floor, past the room they were in then into another.

“...It's quiet.” There was a hint of worry in his voice. “I hope you don't live alone.”

He was careful to phrase it as a statement rather than a question. Though they hadn't told each other personal details, it was obvious that they were both somewhere in their teens, too young to live on their own.

“Ahh, don't worry about it,” she responded easily. “Let's just call this the Ladybunker and leave it at that.”

It was the only real way she could describe it without outing herself. In reality, Jagged Stone had given her the space to work, far away from the bakery and most things that would serve as a distraction. At the time, she'd thought it was too generous a gift, but now she was feeling grateful for it.

Guiding Viperion to the couch, she gave him a second to bump it with his heel so he could gauge its position, then she helped him sit down. Trusting him, wholly and completely, she whispered, “Tikki, detransform me.”

She shut her eyes against the light, releasing Viperion's hand and taking a step back. When she was fully detransformed, Tikki was hovering in front of her, wide eyes swapping back and forth from her to Viperion.

“L-Ladybug! Why is he here?”

“I invited him here to eat. He's not going to look,” Marinette told her. “If you're worried, you can watch him.”

She didn't bother pointing out that it was showing a lack of trust to do so, knowing that Tikki already knew that.

Turning her attention back to Viperion, she wondered, “You're not going to be bored, are you? There's a TV if you...”

He shook his head. “I'll be alright. I can still help you too.” He reached behind him, retrieving the lyre at his back with a playful smile. “I'll set the mood for cooking.”

She snorted, but silently accepted the offer and turned around. She took one step, then a second step, but heard the plucking of a string on the second and another on the third.

He was playing a melody to her footsteps.

Stopping to face him, she pretended to glare even whilst failing to hold back her smile. He couldn't see it, but he smiled back, wholly aware of the reaction he was getting.

Rolling her eyes fondly, she departed for the kitchen and accepted the happy beats playing along to her walking. Tikki flew behind her at first, hesitated, then decided to stay somewhere between where Marinette and Viperion were, unsure of how to handle the situation.

Marinette took her time looking through each of the cupboards, knowing from the last time she was there that there'd be enough food for dinner yet unsure how of what to put together. She didn't consider herself a great cook, but she could certainly make something to satisfy a couple of teenagers whose meals consisted of cafeteria food and whatever they could manage to eat when they weren't busy doing hero work.

The ingredients available to her were mostly ones that wouldn't expire quickly, such as canned tomatoes instead of fresh, which was simply how it had to be when she couldn't guarantee when she'd have time to visit. Besides, fresh didn't always mean better, she reasoned like a poor college student in training.

She reached for a box of dried spaghetti noodles, then froze as something occurred to her. Turning her head to make sure her voice would project properly, she called out, “Viperion! Do you have any aller—“ She stopped short, debating if allergies would be too much information, then changed it to, “Is there anything you wouldn't want to eat?”

Rather than responding with words, the tune he'd been playing changed to something light, but lower-pitched than before. In other words, no.

Giggling to herself, she set the box of pasta on the counter and went about her search for sauce and anything else that might go well with it.

—————

Marinette honestly wouldn't have put it past her luck to somehow burn pasta of all things, yet getting the meal together went pleasantly well. Sure, she may have overshadowed the noodles with everything else she added to it - courtesy of a frozen bag of mixed vegetables, complete with onions and peppers - then oversauced the whole dish in a bit of miscalculation on her part, but it was far better than whatever Viperion would've had back at his house.

She thought better of only putting two plates together, remembering Tikki and pulling out a bowl to put some chocolate ice cream into. Despite being such a stickler for rules, Tikki was surprisingly easy to placate when sweets were involved.

Once she had the ice cream neatly scooped into the bowl, topped with a tiny spoon that even a kwami could manage, Marinette called Tikki out. Taking the two heaping plates of pasta in her arms, she passed by her kwami and headed back out to Viperion, safe in the knowledge that neither of them would be bothered by the world for a few precious minutes.

He was still playing his lyre, though only long enough to bring the music to a natural end. Directing his head towards the plates of food, he complimented, "It smells good."

"It helped that I only had to worry about the smell and taste," she said jokingly. "This could be the worst-looking dish you've ever had and you'll never know."

He put his lyre down, holding his hands out expectantly. "I'm sure it's not."

Slowly, she gave him the plate and sat next to him to get comfortable. While she couldn't tell him so, he was the first guest she'd ever brought there and she was glad it was him despite the invite having only been due to his lack of dinner. It was a shame, she felt, that they couldn't just do this all the time.

She was midway through her first bite of food when she noticed the inevitable issue Viperion was having. Basic awareness and feeling let him stab at the food, swirl the spaghetti using his fork, and lift it to his mouth, but it was uncertain from there. The food would bump just a little off from his lips, or one of the vegetables would fall off without him noticing, or he'd go in for another bite and get an awkward clink from the fork touching a bare part of the plate.

He didn't appear to mind, but it wouldn't be viable for the whole meal.

Setting her plate to her side, Marinette asked hesitantly, “Um... could I feed you?”

There was another clink, this time from his surprise at the sudden offer. He turned his head towards her and she could only imagine what the unseen part of his face must've looked like.

“You sure?”

All things considered, it was a promising reaction, as he didn't appear disgusted by the idea. She ran with it eagerly, replying, “Yeah! I invited you here, so it's my responsibility. What'll Paris think if they hear that the great hero Viperion kept dropping his food?”

His lips twitched into a smile at that. He gave in without any further argument, turning himself towards her and passing her his plate and fork. “Sorry I can't help with the dishes.”

She scoffed, “It's not that much. Now hush and open your mouth.”

He giggled, leaning in and obeying the playful order. Marinette fidgeted for a moment with his fork in her hand, noting that it was still warm from his touch, then twirled some spaghetti and made sure to get some of the other ingredients on top before raising it to his mouth.

A few noodles hung down from the fork, but it just made it all the easier for Viperion to tell when she'd gotten the food in his mouth. His lips clamped down, a soft “mm,” emanating from the back of his throat that she couldn't recall him making when he'd been feeding himself. She could feel the movement at the unseen end of the fork as took the food off of it with his tongue and teeth, even pulling back with a lick of his lips.

“It's really good,” he whispered. “You're a great cook.”

Marinette swallowed, suddenly realizing the kind of situation she was in. She'd genuinely invited him there as one partner-in-crime-fighting looking out for the other, but she hadn't known it would turn out to be so domestic. There they were, two teenagers all alone and having dinner that she made for them. Barring the makeshift blindfold and Viperion's bodysuit, it would've looked like a normal date between a couple.

“Ah... thanks,” she uttered. Part of her wanted to reject the compliment and point out all the obvious mistakes she'd made, but she couldn't bring herself to do it when he smiled at her like that.

This was dangerous, at least going off of what her heart was trying to communicate to her, but she was the one who'd offered to feed him, so she continued. It wasn't that she was unaware of how she felt about Viperion, but usually it could be ignored under the guise of worrying about akuma or looking out for danger on patrol. She didn't have any such excuse when they were having such a nice, quiet moment together.

A few minutes passed, Marinette swapping between feeding Viperion and feeding herself. She would've been perfectly willing to heat up her food later, but he'd insisted that she eat too, leading to her working out how to feed him with one hand and herself with the other. Most distracting of all was when she didn't swirl the spaghetti quite right and Viperion would slurp the loose-hanging noodles into his mouth with the rest of them.

It almost made it a relief when she looked down and saw that there wasn't any food left on his plate. She still had a couple bites' worth on her own, but they had fairly decisively finished having dinner together. Not wanting to delay him longer than needed since he was already done, she turned briefly to her plate to eat the remaining noodles, careful not to scarf them down or risk him hearing and gently scolding her for it.

As she stacked the plates and silverware on top of each other, she took one last glance at him, stopping short of heading off for the sink when she noticed a bit of sauce lingering on his face. It was right below his lips, just out of range for his tongue.

"Oh, you got..." She went to point, but remembered that he couldn't see and told him, "I'll get it."

She supposed she could've just went to grab a paper towel, tried to instruct him on the specific spot, or took his hand to show him physically where he needed to wipe away at, but she did none of those. Perhaps it was because she was already about to go back to the kitchen where she could've washed her hands, but she reached up to him, using the back of two bent fingers to wipe away the sauce on his face.

Unexpectedly, Viperion visibly froze, sucking in a breath and holding it in. Marinette pulled back, puzzled by the reaction, especially from someone who was typically so composed.

A few seconds passed before he let out the air in one exhale, the portion of his cheeks that she could see flushing a light pink. Faintly embarrassed, he said, "Sorry. I thought it was... something else."

Something else?

Marinette stared down at the sauce on her fingers, parsing together what he could've meant by that. She'd grant that he couldn't see, but all she'd done was touch near his lips to—

Ah.

She matched his blush, the mental image burning its way into her mind. She brought her hand up to cover her mouth, thoughts racing to process that Viperion would even think about her kissing him. Did that mean it was something he would've considered, or hoped for?

“...You didn't pull away,” she noted, mostly to herself. She chewed at her bottom lip, debating on what she should do next. They were heroes, she reminded herself, but they were also teenagers and there was definitely something in the air that wasn't coming from just her.

Slowly, she leaned forward, placing a hand delicately on Viperion's shoulder and licking the sauce from her other before bringing her face a few inches in front of his. With her heart pounding in her ears, she experimentally let out a breath, ensuring he knew what was in front of him this time.

The reaction was immediate. Viperion's arm snagged her waist, Marinette gasping inaudibly as he pulled her in and took hold of her chin. She shuddered as his thumb brushed just underneath her lips, him gauging their exact position before tilting his head.

Then, he pulled her in and kissed her. She squeaked in delight, grabbing onto his other shoulder too and following his movements to bring her onto his lap without breaking the kiss. The hand behind her gently massaged her back, working at the knots that had accumulated over the course of patrol, and she repaid the favor by kneading his shoulders.

They might've spent longer tasting each other rather than her food, and she blushed at the loud clicking noise when they pulled apart, taking solace in that he had the exact same face as her. She hugged him, wrapping her arms around him and burying her face in the crook of his neck.

They didn't talk about what had happened for the time being, lost in thoughts of what ifs and what it meant for their partnership, but she secretly hoped that he might want to join her for dinner again.

Especially if there'd be another kiss for dessert.

#queuekanette #lukaneventte: No Context November #Flower Arrangement Shipping #Pro LukaMari #Viperbug #Vipernette

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moonspirit · 2 days ago

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Why do people hate Annie? Is it because she’s a complex character, or do they lack understanding? Do you think Annie tried to manipulate Mikasa in episode 83 or 84? If so, what did she hope to gain from it?

Hello again!

I think the bulk of the reason has already been covered by @annawayne in her excellent answer to you here, so I thought I'd just simplify mine and instead elaborate a bit more on the role Annie reprised before she crystallised.

The very thing that made Annie such a formidable shifter was in the fact that she expressed quite a bit of "sadism" (for lack of a better word) in her killing of the Vet Scouts - and that pissed off a lot of people. Zeke wasn't a known character at the time (and who, by all means, was far worse, with even the intent to show for it) so there was no measure for comparison. But it's easy for a first time watcher to go through this scene and think Annie enjoyed that, when in fact, she very much didn't, and was just playing her role of being a dangerous enemy.

She was taught to be this.

I honestly think that the effect of Annie's upbringing that translates into why she is the way she is, is missed by many people. All of the warriors had terrible childhoods with shitty parents, but Annie's father is a special case. I'll deal with that in another post, but it's very important to keep in mind that no child is "like that" just because. Annie's father made her into the kind of person she believes herself to be in large part. She has not known love. She has not known what it means to be held gently. She has not known genuine connection. She has not known compassion. In her time in Paradis she experiences many of these for the first time, including the chance to express these to other people, but it is not enough to undo the years of abuse she went through as a child.

Like Anna said, she is a child soldier sent to war as a tool just like Reiner and Bertholdt, but unlike Reiner, who had substantial screentime to reveal his past, and unlike Bertholdt who was rather meek and more a "follower" than a leader, Annie disappeared for a long time, and even when she came back, her cold pragmatism didn't really serve to help public perception swing to her favour.

But her cold pragmatism has a reason to exist - and that, imo, is because of why she is the way she is.

She's a genuinely amazing character, and her motivation to live is also very simple, i.e return to her father, which is, honestly, far far more realistic than something grand and larger than life, for example. Is it selfish? Yes. But can we relate to it? Also yes.

Coming to Mikasa, do you mean the scene around the fire in Night of the End? I don't believe Annie was manipulating Mikasa there. Mikasa is an emotional person, far more prone to being reckless than Annie for example; if either Armin or Eren is at risk, we've seen her lose her marbles. Annie isn't like that. Annie prioritizes what's important, distances her feelings and actions from each other, she's more calculating and realistic than Mikasa is. Imo in that scene she was just pushing Mikasa to consider the possibility that negotiations with Eren might fail, considering the Rumbling that he'd already initiated at that point, and on a much larger scale than Armin had believed he'd do.

#askies #momoisgrey #annie leonhart #meta #shingeki no kyojin #attack on titan #snk #aot #mikasa ackerman

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hyperbali · 2 days ago

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I've been tooling around on My Version of the DA canon in regards to Veilguard and here are a few fun things you should know about it

Varric, obviously, survives

He also has Titan stone powers now, which in his opinion is a shit-poor replacement for the fact that the lyrium dagger damaged his pectoralis tendon so badly that he couldn’t pick up a crossbow again even if it were to get fixed (RETIRE, BITCH)

He and Pina were together for a few years, but between how burnt out she was post-Trespasser and Varric’s absolute insistence on finding Solas with full intent to change his mind instead of kill him like she wanted, they went their separate ways

Proserpina Lavellan had since retired to Halamshiral, where she basically kicked the Imperial Court out of the Winter Palace, dared them to stop her (no one has tried), and made it her own

She turned much of the property's land into an ungulate farm (sheep, goats, harts, and halla) and surrounded it with Fen'Harel statues that very specifically have their eyes gouged out

Iron Bull joined her in this retirement; they have their own set of twins! Occasionally the Chargers (now led by Krem) have stopped by to hang out for a few weeks at a time and help take care of the farm

So she's REALLY REALLY REALLY PISSED OFF that she's being forced out of retirement to help deal with TWO MORE of her own damn gods!! Solas when I fucking catch you!!!

Prospero relocated to Minrathous with Dorian, where he basically flaunts his position as a trophy husband and has become a massive pain in the ass for most of the magisters in general while also absolutely charming the general public

In that vein, he's become a fairly lucrative merchant who regularly does business with Xenon the Antiquarian and The Viper

He sent the magic mirror to his twin sister and they talk on the regular

BUT SPEAKING OF ORLAIS

In the aftermath of the incredibly damaging civil war, the loss of pretty much every single upper hierarchy in the Chantry, the rumors of a puppet government (Pina forced a public truce), the installation of such a radical Divine (Leliana), and the mounting cruelty of the chevaliers in an effort to regain control, Orlais is a powder keg

These flames are both fanned and stifled in equal measure by the Bards, who have now become a sort of entity all their own rather than being informal mercenary spies

Rumours abound that at this point, Orlais is the only country in Thedas that wants to be entirely rid of their monarchy - it hasn't escalated into all-out war yet, but it feels inevitable

Given the history of the founding of Orlais, a population desperate for a sense of identity and trust turned to their most vaunted and uniquely Orlesian tradition - that of the Bards

Bards, who have always been largely comprised of commoners hoping to make a decent living, elves wanting to leave the alienages, non-inheriting nobility, the bastardborn, and mages hoping to avoid detection anyway, certainly did not turn up their noses at the idea of becoming a symbol of rebellion

It has now become sort of a point of pride for the Bards to effectively target and slaughter the nobility and chevaliers as creatively as possible - whether that be in the literal or social sense (the Great Game is still held in high regard)

A Bard then has the opportunity to take a trophy from their claimed victory - this trophy is usually whatever fanciful finery that noble owned

As a result, Bards have become increasingly easy to spot because they patchwork pieces of items from their defeated quarry into their ensembles. The more variety and asymmetry to a given outfit, the more targets that Bard has taken

(It’s deeply frowned upon to wear more than one piece from a given victory, or to wear something taken from the estate of someone that particular Bard was not responsible for dealing with)

Basically making a mockery of how important style and flamboyance have always been to the Orlesian nobility by stealing their shit and turning the dial to 11

Some Bards have taken this to mean entirely different materials, textures, and colours - the most 'decorated' of them can look like Alexander McQueen meets Bisa Butler

The really dangerous ones manage that patchwork design, but also look cohesive - meaning they've taken down enough nobles and chevaliers to be able to start matching pieces

Anything not taken as a trophy by a Bard is then free game to be raided and distributed among the people, so tensions are HIGH and security is VERY EXPENSIVE

Divine Victoria publicly denounces all of this but secretly provides information to the Bards when she can

(Yes I am giving you all this setup because the Orlesian Bards are a Faction for a planned companion)

As for Dejana

Yes I'm going to be proceeding with Emmrich as her romance

No I have not decided if she's getting Bone Daddy or Bone Son

Maybe this will end up being a threesome with Varric

Yes she is going to have a lot to explain to the parents she forgot existed for several years in any case

Kieran will also be an installation of the party thanks to Morrigan telling him to watch over his sister but he's pretty much going to usually be in the form of a black sphynx cat (he likes creepy cute)

#blah blah #dragon age #dragon age veilguard #dragon age the veilguard #datv spoilers #long post #i mean REALLY long post

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valentine-cafe · 3 days ago

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˖⁺. ﹙ the charming “vampire” lieutenant. ﹚: vespasiano agresta caliari 781.𖹭

. . . run, run his kiss is a vampire grin !! 🍒 : “ a bit of shadow here, a little there. a little mind fuck to make you pull your hair”

꒰ verse ꒱ 781

꒰ species ꒱ enigma ( telepath & darkness manipulator ) / or as many say: “a vampire”

꒰ ethnicity ꒱ italian

꒰ age ꒱ 64

꒰ gender ꒱ male

꒰ face claim ref ꒱ ( one ) . ( two ) ( when I find this artist I will link istg )

꒰ mbti ꒱ enfp

꒰ alias ꒱ lieutenant agresta, lo spetro, vesp, vespi, heart eater ( youth ), shadow walker, shadow whisperer, gov’fucker ( valerio ), sniper boy ( valerio ), vampire, fangs ( pietro )

꒰ story ꒱

ready, aim - fire!

charming smiles and kind, tired eyes are what many would be surprised to find are the same keen eyes behind the scope of a sniper. lieutenant agresta himself. warm - yet married to his job and intimidating when need be.

serene, playful, teasing - all of these traits make the perfect family man. the perfect father. quite the contrast to a name he holds as shadow whisperer and lo spetro. a man who’s known to live in the shadows and strike fear into his enemies heart. a rumored “vampyre” to most - what with his attraction, devilish fangs, shadow enthralling and telepathic charm - how can anyone think otherwise?

what a contrast indeed of family and work - and yet so much conflict on which to choose.

a man of passion. a pleasantly warm aura that draws many to him and yet - he feels most alone. his heart yearns for the warmth of a lover, one ripped from him by the woman he simply cannot get out of his mind. is he not the telepath? he only wishes for something stable. finally. have something to make him whole.

whole? he’s perfectly whole. with a job he loves. protecting people, saving lives. he’d rather feel the smooth of a trigger than deal with his aching heart of wounded romance, staggering filial bonds and brotherly conflict.

alas, he tries. what else can he do? but smile, smoke his cigarette, go out there and do what he does best.

꒰ appearance ꒱

salt and pepper look: medium-short black hair with grey streaks along the sides. a side-path widow’s peak hairline.

emerald eyes that are a bit on the dull side. bordered pupils. whites of his eyes can go black when using shadow manipulation

tanned skin, has a few beauty spots along his face. along with some wrinkles ( note that enigma age a bit slower than humans.)

a bit of facial hair that is neatly kept

stands at a height of 6’9” ( 209 cm ) and has a lean athletic build

oddly sharp canines, he’s had them all of his life

dark veins can swell around his eyes using shadow manipulation

triple lobe piercings on both of his ears

dark male aesthetic in fashion, although he does quite like his turtle necks as well

sometimes wears gold rings on his fingers

navel piercing

he paints his three middle nails the colours of his kid’s birthstones: blue and a softer red

꒰ personality ꒱

a charming man with a serene attitude, quite the pleasant persona in general but mature and refined in nature

warm in general but is intimidating when he needs to be - particularly with his work

humorous but a sort of calm type of funny

effortless and a bit laid back but keeps this with a refined exterior

flirtatious when it comes down to it - he’s a bit of an indulger

kind-hearted. especially when you see him with he’s family. he’s very family orientated despite his occupation

playful at times. he might be one that enjoys teasing, but he does it a rather serene way

passionate - about those he loves and the things he does.

dutiful. his job often comes first. many often describe him as ‘married to the job’

can be easily jealous at times - something that he tries to keep at bay

despite his pleasant personality, he is tired. worn down from a broken marriage, the woes of family vs career and brotherly conflict. he’s desperately looking for something to make him feel whole while deluding himself that he is

with the above point, can be a bit melancholic when it comes to love as he's been scorned by it so much. he doesn't like the idea of being alone and instead delves head first into his work.

꒰ with a lover ꒱

he's a man scorned by love but he would be so so soft with you.

a playful lover despite being so calm around you. he will definitely poke fun and give you light teasing as a way of showing his affection. he loves making you flustered.

knows that he is a busy man in regards to his career but he tries to make every moment with you count. any time that he can get with you - he will take. whether it be taking you out and spoiling you or sitting at home and cuddling

a passionate lover in everything that he does. he wants you to remember him when he's away. he'll worship you in kisses and affection, whatever it is that you may need or want. a part of him doesn't want you to leave him because of him not doing enough.

very flirtatious. it's subtle at times - he loves when you catch on eventually. sometimes it's outright and shameless. he can switch around a lot.

very physically affectionate, he needs to have his hands on you at any chance that he can get. whether that be holding your hand, and arm around your shoulders or one around your waist.

he's an easily jealous person and he's aware of that. he tries not to let it get to him but this combined with everything he has gone through with love. . . he can be a bit possessive of you sometimes, or get easily jealous of people he thinks are overstepping with you.

enjoys late night walks and early morning talks with you. simply talking to you is one of his favourite things.

loves whenever you pull him back to bed in the morning. will definitely do the same, only - he'll roll onto you and press kisses all over your face to keep you with him.

he doesn't sketch too often because it's not a passion of his anymore and yet he'd feel the need to sketch you. your eyes, your smile, you bring out that part of him again.

princess ( not gendered !! ) treatment ALL the way

he just needs someone to love please. someone that will finally stay.

꒰ strengths ꒱

telepathy: the power to read people’s minds and breach into them/speak into them

darkness manipulation: of shadow, he can manipulate it into various apparitions/appendages and use them as attacks. along with various other tactics such as shadow walking, shadow teleportation and shadow inducement. some say that he talks to shadows as though it were a living being

sharpshooter: he is a highly trained and skilled sharpshooter

combat: having been in the special opps since he was in his 20’s, he is highly trained in combat

strategic mind: he is very strategically gifted

vampyre: many consider him to be a vampire because of his combination of shadow manipulation and telepathy - however this also bleeds into his movements and general allure - which he has learnt to use to his advantage. he can go a bit feral sometimes

꒰ weaknesses ꒱

telepathy: at times he cannot control it, something that he struggled a lot with in his past. when he gets overwhelmed, he cannot control it at all and voices will get very loud and abrupt

dual traits: he is a rare type of enigma that has two traits rather than one, this makes him a target

꒰ relationships ꒱

alessia agresta caliari: mother

valerio agresta caliari: older brother, often referred to as his twin - complicated terms

albertino agresta caliari: younger brother

pietro agresta caliari: younger brother

meructio agresta caliari: younger brother

rainel: ‘father’ - ?

pasquale agresta moretti: son

vinicio agresta moretti: son

flora agresta moretti: daughter

ilaria moretti accardi: ex wife ( they are complicated, she’s constantly pushing and pulling him - he loves her but she has complications with commitment )

alessio arias: nephew

꒰ extra ꒱

he is a lieutenant in italy’s special opps - he is a sniper typically

he is very family orientated despite his career and loves his family very much. he tries really hard to keep up with his children

he smokes cigarettes

he is a rare type of enigma that has two traits instead of one, making him a bit of a target

he sketches

he speaks italian and english

he lives in italy within the agresta caliari estate, together with his brothers, their children and his mother ( and rainel )

many think he is a vampire because of his canines, shadow manipulation and telepathy - it is pure coincidence. but some suspect things from his lineage

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