#but she never lets it be my fault or resent me for it and part of that is open communication definitely

[snzluv3r]

Is it hard dating that isn’t chronically ill? I am another chronically ill person and I’m scared to date someone that isn’t chronically ill because they won’t understand my pain and make me feel bad about it (I’ve had a lot of trauma with it in the past). Just wondering if it’s possible to do and how you and your partner navigate it?

honestly, yes it’s so hard, but only in the sense that i constantly feel like im holding her back or disappointing her. it’s so hard being sick all the time and not knowing when or if im going to be well enough to take her on an actual date or all the other things that my illnesses get in the way of, but she’s the first person i’ve ever known to never ever validate that guilt by making me feel bad for things out of my control.

she always lets me know i don’t have to apologize for bailing last minute or spending our only weekend together sick and in bed asleep for half the time because she knows it’s not something i’ve chosen. i’m so used to people making me feel like im just being lazy and choosing to not participate in things and am purposefully letting people down, especially in romantic relationships with non-chronically ill people, so i totally get the fear and it’s so valid. if you ever wanna talk more in depth my dms are always always open, i hope this made sense

[opens-up-4-nobody]

You don't understand how unhinged I feel trying to construct an ending for Bleach that I personally would enjoy while knowing Bleach does not deserve my time and also not remembering enough to actually make anything coherent. And yet here I am.

[mcuamerica]

Loving Flames | Part Two

Pairing: Eris x Reader

Summary: You leave Under the Mountain, going back to the Night Court... but there's a certain red head that still plagues your mind Requested by anon here.

Warnings: 18+ only, canon level violence, alludes to SA, Rhys is an asshole in this, a bit of angsty fluff and a lot of angst, slight claustrophobia, PTSD, (not proofread), let me know if anything was forgotten...

Word Count: 4k

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

Dividers from @saradika

Part One

You were in that room for the next 8 years, only going out when Amarantha commanded you to watch the tortures she knew you’d be tormented by the most. The faeries that had wings. Children. Families. You stood by Eris’s side, forced to watch as you clung to his arm. Your nails dug into his biceps so often when she was the most brutal that he had small scars there.

And his back, now. When he came back to the room from the healer that night, his entire back and chest was bandaged.

“You shouldn’t have done that.” He said to you when he found you with tears in your eyes, sitting on the bed.

“I couldn’t let her hurt you anymore. Not when it wasn’t your fault.” You said.

“She could still hurt you. She could command you out and force you to be whipped.” He said.

“I’d rather me than you.” You whispered, your knees tight to your chest.

“I wouldn’t.” He whispered. “I won’t be able to stand back and watch if she hurts you.” He said.

“Then kill her.” You simply stated, your eyes unfocused on the rug beneath the bed. “She can’t hurt you. Can’t have anyone else hurt you. Kill her and the threat ends.” You said.

Eris swore, ensuring the door was shut. He walked over to you, kneeling at your side. You felt him take your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him. “You can’t say things like that out loud… you have to be careful.” He said. “I won’t let her hurt you… and I promise to get you out of this room one day.”

Eris wasn’t able to keep that promise. Not until Feyre came along. But, with the tensions between the Autumn and the Spring Court, he didn’t help her at all. And you were confined to your room for all of it other than Feyre’s trials.

When Amarantha finally died, thanks to Tamlin, you felt your tattoo dissolve against your skin. You nearly collapsed on the ground at the thought of leaving this gods-forsaken mountain. Of never seeing it again. Of never being trapped in a bedroom again, or any room. Of feeling the wind against your skin.

But that meant leaving Eris. Once Rhys told you when you would leave, you went to the room. Your prison and sanctuary for so long. “Eris.” You whispered.

He turned around from where he stood before the dresser, contemplating if he wanted to burn the clothing. “I thought you’d be gone by now.” He said.

“I can’t leave without saying goodbye.” You said, nervously playing with your fingers. “I’m going to miss you…” you whispered, silver lining your eyes.

Eris looked at you again, immediately before you. He took your cheeks in his hands. “Don’t do that.” He whispered. “Don’t lie.”

“I’m not lying. I don’t want to go to the Night Court if it means I can’t be with you.” You whispered. “You were the best thing about this Mountain. The only thing that kept me sane.” You said, tears falling from your eyes.

Eris, tears welled in his own eyes, shook his head. “You will go to the Night Court. And if the Autumn Court ever needs an emissary, you will always be welcome.” He whispered. “You will live a good, happy life. One you don’t want me in.” He said.

“But I do.” You whispered. “I need you in my life, Er.” You said louder.

“Then come find me once you’re settled. You’ll be welcomed. But if for one moment you resent what you went through down here, if you resent me for what I did, please… spend your time with your family. In your home.” Away from his family. Away from the cruelty you would endure under his father. Especially if he knew you were mates.

You sniffed, wrapping your arms around his neck as you buried your face in the crook of his neck. "Thank you. For everything." You whispered, holding onto him tight. He held onto you like his life depended on it. This may very be the last time Rhys lets him see you. And he would remember the moment for the rest of his life.

You finally pulled away, wiping at the tears in your eyes. "I'll come back for you, Eris Vanserra." You said to him, cupping his cheek.

"And I'll never forget you, Princess." He said.

You let out a watery laugh before letting go over him, taking a few steps back before you turned around and left to the upper levels of the mountain. Where you would go home with Rhys. You knew in your heart, in your soul, that you would see Eris again. And not just for courtly activities, but as friends. And maybe... if you found the strength.. more.

You stayed in the Night Court, in Velaris, for four years. Meeting with Eris only for court purposes. And even then, Azriel, Cassian, or Rhys would be by your side, leading you away from them. No matter how much you tried to convince Rhys, and the others, that Eris never harmed you Under the Mountain, no one believed you. Expect for Mor, surprisingly. She was pretty easy to convince he did nothing to you, never laid a hand on you to harm you.

You were serving as the ever dotting Princess of the Night Court when the events with Feyre and her sisters happened. While each one of them tackled a challenge of her own, and ended up with their mates. Everyone was happy... You had a nephew and a family that adored you. And yet something was still missing.

You secretly wrote to Eris every week, it becoming your favorite time when one of his letter's would appear next on your nightstand. They became increasingly intimate, but never crossed the line of love.

One day, just a few months after Elain and Lucien's wedding/mating ceremony, Rhys said the Court would be meeting with Eris at the House of Wind. And while you were to stay in your old bedroom up there, you were not allowed to see him.

"Rhys, I'm not a child." You said, crossing your arms. "I'm the Princess of the Night Court. I should be there when you plot with our allies."

"Eris is not our ally... we have a tentative agreement with him." Rhys countered.

"That's the definition of an ally." You retorted. "And besides, I know him better than you all."

"You know him from the time he held you captive-"

"The time Amarantha held me captive," You corrected.

Rhys ignored you, continuing on, "You are biased."

You took a deep breath. "I will not be kept from this courts happenings because you believe me to be fragile. And I am certain Feyre will not agree with you locking me up in my room while you talk with the Heir to the Autumn Court." You said.

Rhys narrowed his eyes, but caved and said he would allow you to be present. Only if Azriel stayed by your side the entire night. You agreed, as Azriel was one of your closest friends and hadn't been as protective as the rest of them when it came to Eris. Maybe it's because his shadows detected you were telling the truth. Maybe they were keeping an eye on you all Under the Mountain for all those years. But either way, you didn't argue with having Azriel by your side.

Taking a deep breath, you smoothed down the loose pants and tight fitting shirt you had on. Your flats matched the attire perfectly, incorporating Night Court black with Autumn Court red. You even did your makeup and hair a little bit more like the Autumn Court style. You hadn't seen Eris since the war with Hybern two years ago. While you kept contact with him, you were excited to see him.

You walked out to the main sitting area where the meeting would be held. Eris was standing there, in an Autumn green tunic and tight fitting pants. His red hair was tousled slightly, and shorter than the last time you saw it. Lucien was next to him, and the rest of your family was scattered around the room.

As Eris turned to you and gave you that smile you missed so much, a string snapped on your gut. Your eyes widened slightly as you felt the bond become even stronger than before. He must have noticed, because you saw his breath hitch.

“Eris,” you whispered, tears brimming your eyes. “It’s good to see you.” You blinked a few times, taking a deep breath to keep your composure. If you and Eris showed any affection here, Rhys would probably throw Eris off the balcony.

“You too, princess.” He said it just above a whisper.

The rest of the room looked between the two of you, all of the tension in the room because of you.

“Come on,” Azriel said, causing you to flinch at his un expected touch. “Let’s sit down.” He whispered and then walked you over to the couch. You kept your eyes on Eris, heart beating out of your chest. To the rest of them, they probably thought you were terrified to see him. Even if you had been completely fine with seeing him in the past.

Rhys walked in with Feyre, narrowing his eyes as he saw Eris staring at you. And you staring back. But you were sat next to Azriel, Eris on the other side of the room, so he let it go. “Okay, let’s talk about how you’re planning to kill your father.” He said.

“Thank you for your warm welcome into your home.” Eris said, voice dripping with sarcasm as he finally tore his eyes from you and looked to your brother.

“My home.” Nesta corrected. The House of Wind was her and Cassian’s now. Azriel was in the Town Home with Gywn and you stayed with Feyre and Rhys in the River House.

“You truly have a plan to kill your father?” Lucien said. Your father. As he recently learned Helion was his dad and not Beron.

“Yes, it’s been in the works for sometime. And Autumn is in a good position right now for a take over.” He said, leaning back in the single chair he was in.

Cauldron, he looked magnificent. He had bulked up more, his biceps threatening to tear the undershirt he wore. You wouldn’t put it past him to wear a tighter shirt to show off. Or was it to impress you? Either way, you couldn’t help but admire him. The way his hair fell onto his forehead, even though it should’ve been slicked back. How the pants fit his thighs just right. And gods, the way that smirk played on his tips as he talked about his plans. He was happy to kill his father. He was doing it for you, though you didn’t know it.

You barely heard a word of what they said as you watched Eris. Your eyes never left him. To the others, again, it looked as if you were scared. But as Azriel glanced between the two of you, and caught some stolen looks from Eris to you, he knew it wasn’t fear that was keeping you quiet. It was affection. You couldn’t think of what to say, so you sat quietly and listened. Or, Azriel thought you were listening. You were just admiring your mate.

Eris was your mate. And you couldn’t wrap your head around it. He must have known… and not told you because of the tensions between Autumn and a Night. But still, how long had he known? Did he know when you were Under the Mountain? Before? Is that the only reason he was kind to you?

Thoughts raked your brain as you spiraled down into your mind, and Azriel was the first to notice your short breathing. “(Y/N)?” Azriel whispered.

You looked up to him, finally breaking your stare from your mate. “Do you want to leave?” He asked.

You shook your head, leaning back in the love seat as you finally started to listen to what they had to say.

Eris would kill his father within the week. And he was requesting help from the Night Court to help him do it. It would be by poison, at an Autumn ball in three days. That each Night Court member would be at. And everyone would play their part.

So, as you listened to the plan, you couldn’t help but wonder what this would mean for you. Would Eris want you to be his mate if he was High Lord? He certainly didn’t say anything to you… maybe he was just being nice because mates shouldn’t hurt each other. Maybe he doesn’t want anything to do with you.

You blinked as everyone stood up, and Rhys shook Eris’s hand tentatively. He whispered a ‘if you betray us, you die’ that wasn’t even a whisper, everyone heard it. And then Rhys walked out. You glanced to Azriel as everyone else walked out besides Eris.

“Az… can you give us a moment?” You asked quietly. Azriel looked between you and Eris skeptically. You noticed as his ears perked and his eyes widened slightly as his shadows told him something.

He gave a slight nod. “I’ll be right outside.” He said before turning around to leave. Once he was out of the room, you ran over to Eris. You slung your arms around his neck as he pulled you close to his chest, his arms around your waist in an instant.

“I’ve missed you.” You whispered against his neck.

You felt him smile against the top of your head, pressing a soft kiss there. “Me too, princess.” He whispered.

“How long have you known?” You asked as you pulled away. “About the bond?” Your voice was shaking, your eyes hoping for a good explanation.

“Since before your mother died… your first introduction to the Courts with your father. It snapped for me the moment I saw you.” He said and cupped your cheek when you pulled away. “I didn’t want to tell you because I knew we couldn’t be together. Your father would never allow it. Your brother certainly wouldn’t.” He said.

“You didn’t think to tell me Under the Mountain?” You asked. You weren’t hurt about his secrecy, surprisingly. He had been protecting you for years. How could you be mad at him?

“I did… I wanted to so many times. But I didn’t want to force it on you down there. Or make it seem like I was trying to win you over. I just wanted you safe. And if Amarantha knew you were my mate, she might have done something to hurt you…” He said.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see it until now.” You said, leaning your forehead against his.

“I don’t want anyone to know. Not until my father is dead and he has no chance of using you against me.” Eris whispered.

“I want to accept it.” You whispered. “As soon as we’re both safe.” You told him, searching his eyes.

Neither of you had been remotely intimate. Hugging and sharing a bed was the extent to how you interacted Under the Mountain and after too. But now, you wanted to do everything with him. Wanted to kiss him, feel his warm lips on yours. You wanted him inside you, his flaming body against yours as you connected in a way no one else could. You wanted him to be your mate, officially. You wanted everything with him. Including children. A kingdom to rule, if he’d have you as his Lady.

Eris’s face at your words softened even more, tears lining his eyes. “Soon, I promise. But we will wait until after my father dies.” He said. “And when I am High Lord, we will accept it in whatever way you want. A large ceremony. A small one. You could give me a tree nut and I would be happy.” He said. “As long as I can be with you.”

“I don’t care. I just want to be your mate.” You told him.

“I’m glad we agree.”

After that week, and after the ball where Eris's father "unexpectedly" died from a heart problem, Beron's powers were passed to Eris. And now, the heir of the Autumn Court was no more, instead, he was the High Lord of Autumn. Your mate.

While you wanted to immediately mate him, Eris wanted to establish his court before announcing his Lady of Autumn. So, you needed to distract yourself. And it happened that Tarquin invited you to the Summer Court to help strategize their rebuilding of the city. In reality, you were going for a vacation to relax. And distract yourself.

So, as you were packing your bag, Rhys knocked on the door.

You turned, giving your brother a small smile.

"You sure you want to leave?" He asked you.

"Yes, I can't wait to lay on the beach and relax for two weeks." You said happily.

"I'm sure it's been hard for you this past week," he said.

“Why?” You asked, zipping up your bag before turning towards him.

“Because… of having to be around Eris.” Rhys said, as if it were obvious. Though, while it was hard being around Eris, he thought it was because of how Eris hurt you. For you, it was hard because you wanted to tell the world about your mate. And you couldn’t.

“It wasn’t, not for the reason you’re implying.” You said. “I like spending time with Eris. And I’ve told you countless times before, he never hurt me.” You said.

“He locked you away in a room.” He said.

“Amarantha locked me away in a room.” You said.

“Because of Eris. Because he was trying to get you outside.”

“Because of her. Not Eris. He was being whipped and I made a decision to not let him suffer.”

“Why?” Rhys demanded. “Why make yourself a prisoner for him? Why not let him bleed? He’s not a good male.”

“He is!” You said. “You see what you want to, Rhys. You can assume all you want to but I spent 50 years with him. He never once touched me without asking. Never once crossed a line. And he didn’t even do it because he was scared of you. He did it because he respects me. And he cares for me.” You said.

“Why would he? When you’re the sister of his enemy? He wouldn’t do anything if it wasn’t for his benefit?” He asked.

You took a deep breath. “He’s not as selfish as he seems, Rhys.” You said, crossing your arms. “Why did you help Feyre when she was the betrothed to your enemy?” You asked.

“That’s different. Feyre is my mate.”

You paused for a moment, trying to choose your words carefully. “But no matter how cruel of a male you seemed to the outside, you were always kind to her… other than making her drink on faerie wine and parading her around at night.” You said. “Eris never did that to me…”

“He still kept you with him all those years. He could’ve given you away, let you stay with me. He could’ve-“

“He was protecting me.” You simply stated.

“Why?”

“Because I’m his mate!” You yelled. You knew you were screwed the moment the words left your mouth. Why did you just say that?

Rhys blinked. The only way he showed his shocked. “No, he isn’t.” He said.

“Yes he is. The bond snapped for me last week.” You said. “Before he was High Lord.”

“He’s tricked you. You can’t be his mate.” He said.

“My walls are stronger than yours, Rhysand. He couldn’t trick me if he wanted to. I am his mate. And he is mine. And he took care of me when no one else did.” You said, holding your head high. “As soon as I get back from Summer, I am going to Autumn and offering him food.” You said.

“And what? Leave your home? For that family? For him?” Rhys growled.

“For my mate. For the male that protected me and helped me and kept me sane for 50 years. For him, the male I love.” You said.

“No,” Rhys said, shaking his head. “He isn’t your mate. He must have tricked you… you won’t be going to Autumn.” He said.

You rose your eyebrows. “And how are you going to stop me?” You asked.

“I won’t let you leave.” He said.

“What are you going to do? Restrict me to the Night Court?” You asked. “You wouldn’t.”

“I would.”

“Why?”

“To protect you.”

“That’s not protection, Rhys. That’s imprisonment.” You said, searching his eyes. It occurred to you then that he might not be kidding. Rhys was notoriously protective of you. And he would go to far lengths to keep you from harm in his mind.

“You won’t leave this room, (Y/N), unless you promise you won’t go to Autumn.” He said.

“I won’t promise that. I’m not going to stay away from my mate.” You said. “And you can’t keep me here.”

“I will.” He said, taking a step out of your room.

“And what are you going to do? Block my path all night?” You asked, seething.

“No. There are wards around your room now. If you try to leave, you’ll see what happens.” He said.

Your eyes widened at the thought of being trapped in a room. “What?” You asked, your voice cracking.

“Unless you agree to never accept the bond with Eris, you’ll be in this room. And the wards won’t let anyone else but me in and out.” He said.

Your breathing started to quicken, walking towards the door but stopping right in front of it. “Rhys, do not lock me in this room.” You said, tears brimming your version.

“Do you promise to not go to Autumn? To not mate with Eris?” He asked.

“No.” You said quietly.

“You’re meant to be gone for two weeks. I’ll come back then to see if you’ve changed your mind.” He said.

“Rhys, please.” You begged, stepping forward again. You watched as he walked away, your breath catching in your throat.

“Rhys!” You yelled, taking a step to leave the room but coming in contact with a clear hard wall. “Rhys!” You sobbed, backing on the invisible door. You took a step back, trying to find your breath. “Rhysand!” You yelled again, only for your door to slam shut in front of you.

You fell to the floor, banging on the door. “Rhys!” You begged again, leaning your forehead against the. Your vision blurred, the walls closing in on you. Suddenly, you were back Under the Mountain. Trapped in that room with no wind or no windows. Eris healing from his wounds.

Your sobbed shook your body as you tried to breath. You closed your eyes as you sunk to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest.

"Rhysand!" You let out a scream, so primal and raw that your throat strained.

You continued shaking, sobbing, hyperventilating as you rock yourself back and forth. You tried to convince yourself you were safe. You weren't hurt. But you couldn't leave. Couldn't get out of this room if you tried. You couldn't see your mate.

Your sobs overtook your breaths as you lost focus, shaking at the feeling of desperation. You were trapped in this room. You couldn't get out. Wouldn't get out unless you promised something terrible to your brother. Your brother who you thought loved you. But someone who loved you wouldn't do this. They wouldn't trap you in a room after what happened Under the Mountain. What would Feyre do when she found out about this? Would Rhys keep you here longer than 2 weeks? Would you be trapped here forever.

The walls continued closing in on you as your mind spiraled deeper and deeper. When you had the strength to open your eyes, the room was dark. Your powers couldn't get you out, but they consumed you. The darkness wasn't welcomed though. It only made your breath quicken more. No light. No windows. No Eris.

How would you live like this?

Part Three

A/N: GODS this was a good one to write... can you imagine what Eris is going to do when he finds out what Rhys did????

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[seresinhangmanjake]

His Boy

Feyd-Rautha x wife!reader

Summary: Feyd is worried his son is too much like him.

Notes/Warnings: Part of the His series, but you don't need to read it prior to this. Typos, maybe, idk.

Words: 1325

Feyd-Rautha Masterlist / Main Masterlist / Tag list

Sometimes, Feyd has dreams—nightmares, really—where the son you share, who looks so much like him, is too much like him. Nightmares where your kindness and heart did not reach the boy you birthed, and so to replace the emptiness, the infant was filled with the hatred harbored within his father. Hatred that Feyd would like to say was born, not made, because were it born, he would have a better understanding of it. He would know that a man born with that curse can control himself around those he loves. But he wasn’t born with it; at least, he doesn’t think he was. 

That’s something he will never know for sure. The years that led to his mother’s death were full of harm and pain. He took her life because of what she turned him into. She sealed her own fate with his hatred, which did not disappear with time, not entirely, and he’s often wondered if tendrils of it have lingered too long; if hatred has wrapped around his soul so the two may never be cleaved apart. And if it is soldered to his soul, could it not have been passed down to the piece of himself that he shares with his child? 

He doesn’t know.

If his son came into the world with a blackness inside of him, will he be compelled to hurt those closest to him? 

He doesn’t know that, either.

It doesn’t mean he doesn’t love his son, he does. He’d protect him with everything he has. But he cannot trust something that almost took you from him once already. He cannot turn his back for fear the boy will instinctually bare his budding teeth and gnaw at your soft, fleshy spots when he’s not looking. He cannot let it be that whenever you are cradling your child in your arms, you are at the same time nurturing the means to your end. 

—

“You’ve stopped spending time with him,” you say, cuddling your son to your chest. The boy reaches up to play with the ends of your hair, his puffy lips spreading in a smile. 

Feyd blinks from his chair on the other side of your bedroom. His finger ceases its tapping on the dark leather armrest as his hard stare darts from the baby to you. “I’m spending time with him now,” he says plainly. 

You roll your eyes. “I mean alone. You’ve stopped trying to bond with him. You only see him if I’m here as well, and when you sit with us, all you do is stare at him with that—that—I don’t know,” you huff. “That weird look in your eye.”

Feyd scoffs and shakes his head as he pushes up from his chair. “You’re imagining things. I don’t have a look.”

“Liar. You look at him like you’re studying him,” you say, and enough beats pass that’s Feyd’s lack of words are a certain agreement. He begins pacing slowly in front of you. His hand runs down his face. “You swore to me that you loved him.”

“I do love him.”

“But you haven’t forgiven him,” you deduce. 

There’s an edge to your voice that makes Feyd wince. But how can he so easily forgive? The child nearly ripped you in two on his way into the world. You nearly bled out in front of him. He still has nightmares that only finding your warm body beside him can soothe. 

“How can that be?” you continue. “It wasn’t his fault, and I’m fine.”

“I know.”

“Then what is this?”

He debates not saying it; being the liar you've already called him out for being. But you’re too smart. Too intuitive. Too observant. You’ll figure it out eventually. It’s only a matter of time, and how much time, and if it’s so much time that you come to resent him for his prolonged dishonesty. 

Feyd stops pacing. His hands find his hips. “I don't trust that he's not like me,” he finally says. 

Your brow knits. “Like you…?”

“I killed my mother.”

Your mouth parts, then closes, unsure what to say. “Feyd–”

“It was so easy,” he tells you. Too easy—the way the blade slid across his mother’s throat as she slept. He was so young that he barely remembers, but he remembers that. He remembers the pain that solidified inside of him, even if his brain did not allow him to retain every instance of its infliction. He remembers the relief, brief as it was, considering it led to him living with his uncle—who only doled out more but happened to be more important and heavier guarded than his mother—but he never regretted his decision. He never hated the hatred. “And it felt good.”

Sighing, you stand and walk over to your son’s crib. You gently place your baby down and kiss his soft forehead. His eyelids are already closing with their heaviness when you walk over to your husband, and placing you hands on his cheeks, you say, “Your mother was horrible. You were justified.”

His hands fall to rest on your waist as your thumbs stroke sharp cheekbones. “Most boys would not have been able to kill their mother regardless of what she'd done. Especially not at the age I did,” he says. “I watch him because I'm looking for it.”

“It—what's it?”

“That capability. What I've got in me. I'm trying to see if it's in him.”

Your chin dips down. You swallow, then look back up at him. “Feyd, our son is not going to harm me, because I'm not going to harm him.”

“But what if you don’t have to?” he says. “What if it’s just there?”

“It’s not there,” you tell him. “And it’s not just there in you. If it was, you would hurt me, not love me. And you’ve never hurt me. Not once.”

“You don’t understand,” he says, removing your hands from his face and grasping them tightly in his. “You were—are—an exception. When we met, I wanted to want to hurt you. So badly. I would dream about it, and the dreams always started exactly as they should, but then you would cry and I would lose my mind.”

A look of realization settles on your face. “You used to wake up sweating.”

He nods. “I’ve had more lately,” he says. “He kills you.”

“He’s not going to kill me.” 

“You don’t know that.”

“I do.” You squeeze his hand and start to pull him toward the crib. He follows—albeit somewhat relectuantly. “Look at him,” you say. “Feyd, look at our son.” His gaze eases down to the baby, and, almost imperceptively so, his face softens. “Look at what we made.”

He does. He really looks at the sleeping boy with the gentle breaths that inflate and deflate his little chest. He looks at the parted lips, a matching set to his father’s. The lashes, the same length as yours. 

There’s innocence there. Innocence in his defenselessness. Innocence is corruptible, he thinks.

“Feyd, he's ours,” you say. “We will raise him how we want, and we will raise him to be good. Well-trained and deadly when necessary, but good at heart.”

Good at heart has never been a Harkonnen trait. Not even he can be described as such. His heart is mostly black; you just happen to have made a small portion of that blackness dissipate. You and his boy. 

Feyd sighs and finds himself instinctualy reaching into the crib to run his fingers over the baby's smooth head. The skin is delicate in a way it never will be again and when the boy unconsciously nuzzles against the palm of his hand, a little jolt goes through Feyd’s system. 

“You have to trust me on this,” you tell him.

Tiny eyelids sleepily blink until they are open and blue stares into blue. And in that moment, Feyd thinks he can do it. He can trust you.

So he says, “Ok," and hopes that you're right.

---

A/N: this is not a clue into their future with their son. Feyd is just paranoid.

[unconventional-lawnchair]

Hi! I saw that your requests were open and I wanted to ask for a Barty fic. Maybe reader having a similar conversation to the “like my father part 2” but with Barty. She is insecure about never dating anyone nor having even held hands romantically and thinks she will never be loved, not even noticing Barty’s love for her but Barty explodes and confesses.

AN: I saw both of your messages and thank you so much!! I'm sorry for the wait :(! I am so glad people love this Barty as much as I do. 💕

Love me, too

Barty Crouch Jr. x Fem! Reader

Wc: ~2.8k

Summary: Late nights with loose lipped Barty, a single conversation unraveled years of yearning.

CW: Suggestive, devoted!slightlyobsessive!Barty, both reader and Barty have some self loathing going on, non cannon complacent,

“Even Potter admitted it was too much.” Barty chuckled from where he was splayed out on your couch, head in your lap with a blissful look as you ran your fingers through his dark curls. “I don't think Evan should be drinking anymore muggle alcohol.”

“His poor pureblood body can't take it.” You sang to him, at least, that's what he heard as you gazed at him so sweetly. He had just gotten back from a late night excursion with Regulus and Evan, exploring more of what the muggle world had to offer.

“I resent that, I made it home, didn't I?” He hummed and you couldn't help but laugh at him, and he seemed to just relish in the sound.

Not that you ever noticed.

“Home? Barty, might I remind you, your flat is across the way?”

Barty’s grin widened as he shifted in your lap, his green eyes glinting with mischief. “What can I say?” He drawled, tilting his head back to look up at you. “Your couch is far superior to my bed. And let’s not even get started on your hospitality.”

“Hospitality?” You echoed with a laugh, playfully tugging at one of his curls. “Barty, you barged in here at Merlin-knows-what-hour, smelling like a distillery and complaining about Evan’s ‘pureblood constitution.’ How is that hospitality?”

He smirked, completely unbothered, and let out a satisfied hum as your fingers continued their gentle rhythm through his hair. “It’s the look in your eyes,” He teased, reaching up lazily to point a finger at you. “That soft little glare you always give me. You try so hard to act exasperated, but we both know you secretly love it.”

“Do I, now?” You retorted, raising an eyebrow as you gave his curls a particularly sharp tug. He winced- dramatically, of course- but his grin didn’t falter.

“Oh, absolutely,” He replied, his voice dipping into that smooth, confident tone he wielded like a weapon. “You’ve got a weak spot for me, darling. Admit it.”

You rolled your eyes, but the corners of your mouth betrayed you, tugging upward despite your best efforts. “The only weak spot I have is for the idiot who nearly fell into my azalea bush trying to unlock my neighbor’s door.”

Barty gasped, clutching his chest like you’d mortally wounded him. “That was one time,” He protested, though the way his lips twitched gave him away. “And in my defense, all these flats look the same. It’s not my fault muggles lack imagination.”

“Right,” You said with mock seriousness. “Because it’s definitely the muggles’ fault you tried to pick a fight with a bush.”

He let out a low chuckle, his hand falling back onto your knee as he relaxed further against you. “You wound me, truly,” He murmured, though the blissful look on his face told a different story. “But you’re still here, still running your fingers through my hair like I’m your favorite stray.”

You shook your head, your laughter softening into something warmer as you gazed down at him. “That word is exactly right. A stray.” You teased and he gave a low sigh as you playfully pulled at the roots of his hair again.

Barty’s grin softened as he let out a low, contented sigh, tilting his head further into your touch. But his smirk quickly returned, laced with amusement as he glanced up at you. “Speaking of strays, did you know Pandora’s getting hitched? Evan’s still in denial about it, of course. Says it’s a phase.”

“Pandora’s getting married?” You asked, your fingers pausing in his hair as your brows knit together. “To Xenophilius?”

Barty hummed, tilting his head slightly into your touch, though he noticed your pause. “Yes, to none other than Xenophilius Lovegood,” he said with an exaggerated wave of his hand. “The eccentric inventor of all things absurd. Can’t you just picture it? The two of them, in some meadow, exchanging vows under a canopy made of... I don’t know, enchanted fungi?”

You snorted despite yourself. “That actually sounds about right for them,” You admitted, though your voice had a softer, contemplative tone now.

Barty’s grin faltered slightly as he caught the shift in your expression. “You alright there, darling?” He prodded, his green eyes narrowing as he studied your face. “Don’t tell me you’re about to spiral because Pandora’s beating us to the altar.”

“I’m not spiraling,” You muttered defensively, looking away from him. “I just... I don’t know. It’s weird, isn’t it? Everyone’s pairing off. Pandora’s getting married, Lily and James have Harry now, even Sirius seems to have a new date every other week. And here I am-”

“Perfectly ravishing and far too good for anyone who doesn’t grovel at your feet?” Barty supplied with a cheeky grin, though the warmth in his green eyes betrayed the sincerity under his playful tone.

You gave him a look, your lips twitching despite yourself. “You’re not helping.”

“Who says I’m trying to help?” He countered, though he shifted slightly to sit up, his hand resting on your knee now as he studied you more intently. “Alright, what’s really going on, darling? Spill.”

You hesitated, your gaze flicking away from his. “It’s nothing. I’m just... I guess I feel like I’m falling behind, you know? Everyone else seems to have their lives figured out, and I’m just... here.”

Barty’s smirk faded entirely, replaced by an expression you didn’t see often: genuine concern. “Falling behind?” He repeated, his voice softer now. “What are you on about? You’re you.”

“And what does that even mean?” You asked, your voice tinged with frustration. “Barty, I’m twenty-three, and I’ve never even been in a proper relationship. Everyone else is moving on, starting families, building lives, and I’m just... I don’t know. Stuck.”

“Stuck?” He echoed, his brows furrowing. “You? The woman who once dragged me into a Muggle club and convinced a room full of strangers I was an internationally famous wizard film star?”

You couldn’t help but laugh at the memory, though it was short-lived. “That’s different, Barty. That was... fun. This feels bigger. Like I’m missing something.”

Barty tilted his head, his expression firm as he reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face. “You’re not missing anything, love,” He said firmly. “You’re exactly where you’re meant to be. And for what it’s worth, I think the world would be a lot less interesting if you weren’t exactly as you are.”

You looked at him, your chest tightening at the sincerity in his voice. “You make it sound so easy,” You murmured.

“Because it is,” He said with a grin, though the softness in his eyes remained. “You’re comparing yourself to people whose lives are completely different from yours. Pandora and Xenophilius? They’re lovely, but they’re also... Pandora and Xenophilius. Lily and James? They’ve been attached at the hip since Hogwarts. None of that has anything to do with you.”

“And Sirius?” You challenged, raising an eyebrow. “Even he-”

“Sirius Black is a menace who flirts with anything that moves,” Barty interrupted, his grin turning wicked. “He couldn’t hold a proper relationship if it came with instructions and a leash. And you deserve more than that.”

“Do I?” You asked quietly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Barty’s expression softened even further, and he leaned closer, his hand still resting on your knee as he spoke. “Yes, you do,” He said firmly. “And one day, someone’s going to see that. They’re going to fall at your feet, completely and utterly unworthy of you. And you’re going to make them work for it- because that’s what you deserve. Not some half-hearted fling or rushed attempt to ‘catch up.’ Someone who sees you for exactly who you are and loves every piece of it.”

Your cheeks flushed, and you looked away, feeling a warmth spread through you that wasn’t entirely unwelcome. “You’ve got a way with words, you know that?” You muttered.

Barty’s grin softened, but his eyes glinted with that signature mischief that always seemed to spark chaos wherever he went. His hand rested on your knee, and you felt the slight twitch of his fingers, like he was holding back something bigger. He opened his mouth, hesitated for a moment, then sighed dramatically, dragging a hand through his dark curls as though the weight of his thoughts was just too much.

“You know,” He started, his tone suddenly more theatrical, “I’ve got to say, darling... the idea of someone being good enough for you? It’s laughable. Laughable. Like, truly the most absurd thing I’ve ever heard. And mind you, I’ve spent an evening listening to Evan try to explain the muggle concept of a toaster.”

You blinked at him, a small laugh escaping despite your growing confusion. “Barty, what are you even-?”

“No, no, don’t interrupt,” He cut in, holding up a finger with mock seriousness, though his grin was tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Because here’s the thing: you’re not just any girl, alright? You’re not even in the same realm as the rest of us. You’re- what’s the word I’m looking for? Ethereal? Divine? A literal goddess walking among mere mortals? Yes, all of that and more.”

“Barty-”

“No!” He flung his hands up dramatically, as though warding off any protests. “You let me finish this, or so help me, I’ll combust on the spot. Now, as I was saying- goddess. Goddess. And me? What am I, huh? A stray cat on your couch. A servant in your kingdom. A bloody footman sent to fetch your tea and hope you don’t smite me with your beauty.”

You were laughing now, fully laughing, but Barty only leaned closer, his expression so full of mock tragedy it was almost convincing. “But you know what I’d do, my queen? My liege? I’d find him for you. That’s what I’d do.”

“Find who?” You asked between giggles, thoroughly lost in his spiraling monologue.

“The man!” He exclaimed, throwing his arms out so dramatically he nearly toppled off the couch. “The man who’s actually worthy of you. Because he exists somewhere, right? He has to, in some perfect alternate dimension where the universe handcraft people for each other. And you know what I’d do when I find him? I’d die, darling. I’d perish in his presence just to bring him to your doorstep. Just so you’d have someone who’s worth it. Someone who’s everything you deserve.”

“Barty,” You said, trying and failing to contain your laughter. “You’re completely mad.”

“Mad?!” he gasped, clutching his chest like you’d stabbed him. “No, love, I’m just devoted. Devoted to the idea that your happiness is paramount in this cruel, undeserving world. And if I can’t be the one to give it to you, then I’ll march into the depths of hell to find the one who can.”

His voice softened then, the chaos settling into something quieter, more vulnerable. “Because you deserve that, you know. You deserve to have someone who sees every bit of you, even the bits you try to hide, and still thinks you hung the bloody stars.”

Your laughter faded, replaced by a warmth spreading through your chest. “Barty,” you murmured, your voice softer now. “That’s... sweet, but also completely ridiculous.”

“Ridiculous?” He echoed, grinning again as he leaned back dramatically. “Of course it is. Because what’s more ridiculous than me thinking I’d ever stand a chance with you?”

The words tumbled out of his mouth before he could stop them, and his green eyes widened slightly, like he’d just realized what he’d said. His grin faltered, and he let out a nervous laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, well, there’s my secret out in the open. Didn’t really mean to let that slip, but here we are.”

You stared at him, your heart stuttering in your chest as his words hung in the air. “You’re serious,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Oh, absolutely,” he replied, forcing a grin but unable to meet your gaze. “Completely, utterly serious. Mad as a hatter, clearly, but serious nonetheless.”

“Barty,” You began, but he waved his hand as if to dismiss your impending response.

“Don’t feel bad for me, darling,” He said, his voice lighter now, though there was a tremor underneath it. “I’ve made peace with it, you know? Loving you is like worshiping the sun. You don’t do it for the reward; you do it because you can’t help yourself.”

He leaned forward, wrapping his arm around the back of the couch, behind you, as his eyes traced your lips. It wasn't typical, no, he wasn't looking for a kiss. He was just admiring that pretty look of your smile, even as it faded to a more conflicted look. He gave an expression, one so devastated, as if your frown physically hurt him.

You stared at him, your chest tight with emotions you couldn’t quite name. His grin returned, smaller this time, almost sad. “And if you don’t find him tomorrow, or next week, or even next year,” He added, his voice almost a whisper now, “that’s fine, too. Because I’ll still be here. Sitting on your couch like the world’s most loyal stray, hoping I get to see you happy, even if it’s from a distance.”

Your heart was racing as his words hung in the air, raw and unfiltered. He had laid himself bare before you, his usual bravado stripped away to reveal something far more vulnerable and honest. And in that moment, you couldn’t ignore the pull any longer.

“Barty,” You said softly, your hand reaching out to rest against his cheek. His eyes widened slightly, searching your face for any sign of mockery or rejection. When he found none, his lips parted, but no words came.

You smiled faintly, your thumb brushing against his cheekbone. “You’re an idiot, you know that?”

His brow furrowed. “Well, that’s a promising start,” He muttered, though his voice lacked its usual sarcasm. There was an edge of uncertainty, like he didn’t dare believe what might be coming next.

“You’re an idiot,” You repeated, leaning closer, “because you think I wouldn’t want you.”

For a moment, he looked completely and utterly lost, like the meaning of your words had short-circuited his brain. “You- wait, what?”

You didn’t give him time to recover. With a soft smile, you leaned in and pressed your lips to his. The kiss was tentative at first, testing, but the second he realized what was happening, everything changed.

Barty surged forward, his hand slipping to the back of your neck to pull you closer as his lips moved against yours with a fervor that left you breathless. His other arm wrapped around your waist, anchoring you to him like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go.

When you finally pulled back for air, he was staring at you like you’d just upended his entire world. His breath was heavy, his eyes dark and intense as they roamed your face. “Say it again,” He demanded, his voice rough. “Tell me this isn’t some cruel dream I’m going to wake up from.”

You laughed softly, your fingers threading through his curls. “I want you, Barty,” You whispered, your voice steady. “I’ve always wanted you.”

Something in him seemed to snap at those words. His lips were on yours again, hotter and more demanding this time, as if he was trying to make up for all the moments he’d thought this would never happen. His hands roamed over your back, slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt to touch your skin. His fingers were rough, desperate, as if he needed to feel you, to know this was real.

“You have no idea,” He murmured against your lips, his voice a low growl. “No idea how long I’ve wanted this. How many nights I’ve stayed up thinking about you.”

“Then stop wasting time,” You teased, your own hands sliding up his chest and into his hair.

He let out a low, almost guttural laugh, his lips brushing against your jawline, your neck. “You’re gonna kill me, love.”

“Not yet,” You whined back, your voice breathless.

His response was a low growl as his lips found yours again, his kiss searing and possessive. His hands gripped your waist, lifting you onto his lap fully as he deepened the kiss, his teeth grazing your bottom lip before soothing the sting with his tongue.

“Merlin,” He murmured, his voice hoarse as he trailed kisses along your jaw and down your neck. “Tell me this is real. Tell me you’re mine.”

You pulled back just enough to meet his gaze, your hands framing his face as you whispered, “I’m yours, Barty. Always.”

The intensity in his eyes burned brighter at your words, and whatever restraint he’d been clinging to crumbled entirely. His hands tightened on your hips, pulling you flush against him as his lips claimed yours again, leaving no room for doubt.

This wasn’t the playful, cheeky Barty you were used to. This was something raw and unrestrained, something you’d never seen before. And it left you completely and utterly undone.

“Worth the wait.” He let out a sound- almost like a whimper- “Worth every bloody second.”

[daydreaming-nerd]

The Prophecy (Lucien Vanserra x Rhys! Sister)/(Azriel x Rhys! Sister)?

Part 2,

Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

AN: I’ve had this idea for a while but after hearing “The Prophecy” on The Tortured Poets Department I was finally feeling inspired to write it. You guys have no idea how much that album is about to influence my writing. Also I have no idea how this is gonna end lol.

Summary: The only thing worse than having Azriel not know about the bond is watching him and Elain carry on like she doesn’t have a mate as well. Lucien and you have been long time friends but things change after one fateful starfall celebration. It’s not wrong if both of your mates don’t want you right? 

Warnings: smut, unrequited love, situationship, fluff, Lucien is literally and angel I love him sm, did not edit (I am tired)

Word count: 3734

“Please, I've been on my knees. Change the prophecy. Don't want money just someone who wants my company…”

I had known the youngest Vanserra for a while now. I can recall the first time I met him on a lovely day  in the spring court when I was visiting with my brother. The man was more than charming, his words nearly had me buckling at the knees. It was around the same time that I had found out that my brother's close friend Azriel was my mate.

I remember the bond snapping like it was yesterday. We were celebrating solstice in the Hewn City and my feet were nearly black and blue from the amount of drunk men stepping on them while dancing. I was about to ask my brother to take me home when Azriel stepped in and quite literally swept me off my feet. He let me stand on his toes and waltz around the room with him all night to ensure that he himself wouldn’t hurt my feet. At some point in the night the bond snapped and I had never been so happy. 

Azriel and I had been friends for over 100 years and I had secretly harbored feelings for him for at least 75 of them. To have my brother's best friend as my mate felt like fate. I didn’t tell him that night, something I have regretted for the last 400 years. 

Not long after that he rescued Mor and any sparks I thought he felt with me that night were long gone. From that day on all he did was pine for her. I couldn’t blame him, Mor was astonishingly beautiful. For a long time after he saved her I resented her, I felt like she had taken my mate from me. It wasn’t until I realized that she wanted nothing to do with the shadowsinger that my hatred for my cousin dissipated. It wasn’t her fault that Azriel was so smitten with her. It was my fault for not telling him, but now it had been so long since the bond snapped that it seemed weird to bring it up.  

So I sat dutifully by his side whenever  he needed someone to rant to about Mor. It practically ripped out my heart to  hear him talk about how in love with her he was. I was the only person he would open up to like that.  He would spend hours asking me for advice on how to woo her, and I grinned and bore it because, at the end of the day, I got to spend time with him.

I had been playing the girl best friend for hundreds of years. The moment I started to feel like he might be losing feelings for Mor in walked Elain. The beautiful sister of my brother's mate. What's worse? She seemed interested in Azriel as well. 

Elain was easy to hate. Not just for her flirtations with Azriel but for the way she treated Lucien, her mate. Lucien had so much love for the Archeron, and she waved him off without another thought. I might be able to understand her reluctance to accept the bond if Lucien was a brute of a male, but he wasn’t. He was soft, kind and easy on the eyes.

I found him tossing rocks into the Sidra one day, no doubt pining over how Elain had barley even acknowledged the flowers he picked for her. That’s when I told him about Azriel and I’s bond. From that moment on we spent a great deal of time together, ranting about our unaccepted mating bonds. Even though we spent most of the time bitching, there was happiness. More than I had felt in a while. 

Then starfall came…and everything changed. 

“You look far too stunning not to be walking in with a date,” Lucien drawled to me from the outside of the townhouse. 

I had spent all day getting ready for the annual party tonight. My dress was chosen specifically to catch Azriel’s attention, not that I felt like I would succeed. 

“Well finding a date is harder than you think, especially at this hour,” I laugh as I walk through the gate he opened for me. 

“Then indulge me,” he said. I turned to find him offering me an arm. 

“You want to be my date?” I laugh light heartedly, admittedly smitten by the autumn court male. 

“It’s a little last minute but I would be honored to walk into that room with you on my arm,” he said fondly. 

I smiled and shook my head at the male before looping my  arm in his and allowing him to lead me up the steps to the front door. 

“You know, you clean up pretty well Lu,” I cock an eyebrow bumping into him. 

“Thanks, your brother sets a pretty high standard as far as attire for this thing. Who knew he was such a fashionista?” Lucien grins before walking in the door arm and arm with me. I don’t even bother stifling the laugh I let out. 

The room nearly fell silent at our entrance. Sure Lucien and I were close and everyone knew, but they had never seen us like this. Even Az and Elain stopped their oh so intriguing conversation to ogle. I swore I saw anger flit across Elain’s eyes, like she was dead set on owning both Az and Lucien. 

Lucien and I spent the evening as wallflowers, doing our best to stay away from all the happy couples. We had even gotten to the point where we grabbed a bottle of wine off the table and brought it over to our couch, both of us tired of constantly getting up and down for refills. 

It wasn’t until Az and Elain not so subtly got up and walked onto the balcony that we decided we had tortured ourselves enough. We promptly grabbed the bottle of wine and waltzed out of the townhouse not even bothering to say goodbye. I supposed it was that exact bottle that did us in. 

I placed my hand on my apartment door, swaying slightly from the alcohol rushing to my head. Lucein’s hand found my hip, steadying me. While I assured him I would be fine to walk home alone, he insisted he came with me. 

“Thanks,” I laughed unlocking the door. 

“You’re welcome,” he chuckles, wobbling himself. 

“I had a really good time with you tonight,” I say, placing a hand on his chest to steady myself.

“I had a good time too,” he smiled. 

It wasn’t until that moment that I realized how close we were. Lucien looked down at me, the moonlight illuminating his face perfectly. The sudden tension between us was broken when he crashed his lips on mine. 

One thing led to another and the next thing I knew I was lying bare beneath him as he fucked me like his life depended on it. I didn’t realize how badly I needed to get laid until he was buried inside me. Needless to say I understood why people said the Autumn Court males have fire in their blood. 

That was a year ago and since then Lucien and I had decided to continue seeing each other in secret, both of us needing a way to release built up tension so to say. He often stayed the night and we would spend long hours talking about everything from the books we were reading to politics. The sex was amazing, for both of us, but it was the intimacy that came after that I think we both craved the most. An intimacy I would be seeking out shortly given the current topic of conversation between Azriel and I. 

“Gods the other day she was weaning a light blue dress in the garden and I nearly fell to my knees before her,” Azriel ranted to me. 

He had been going on and on about whether or not he wanted to finally make a move on Elain or not. And as his best friend I had to hear about every word of it.

“I saw it, it was a very pretty dress,” I acknowledge, turning the page of the book I was reading. 

“I swear she blushed when I complimented it too, I think I’m making progress with her,” he went on to say. 

“Maybe you should just put yourself out of your misery and talk to her Az,” I suggested for probably the tenth time. 

“You know I can’t just barrel in there. She’s scared and I’m not going to freak her out even more. She will come to me when she’s ready. If she’s ready. Gods that’s assuming she even likes me,” he rambled. 

I roll my eyes and shut my book so loudly it pulls the shadow singers attention. I give him a pointed look that has him startling back just a bit. 

“I know that she likes you Az,” I deadpan. 

“How can you be sure though?” he asks, throwing his head back on the arm of the couch. 

“Because she would be an idiot not to,” I say with a hint of sadness. 

Azriel looked to be at a loss for words, and I realized my words were much bolder than I had wanted them to be. 

Clearing my throat I set my book down on the side table, knowing it will be waiting for me when I come back to my brother’s tomorrow. I stand and subtly adjust my dress.  

“I have to go, but seriously Az, just tell her,” I say walking over to press a kiss to his forehead. 

As I got to walk away I feel him grab my hand, placing a kiss to my open palm, “Thank you for listening y/n, really.” he says earnestly . 

“Don’t worry  about it Az, I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say with a fake smile before setting off towards my modest home. 

When Feyre moved into the townhouse I took it as my queue to move out, knowing my brother and his new mate would want privacy. Of course Rhysand offered me mansions and villas but I was content with a townhouse of my own in the middle of town. Big enough to have my own home library, and small enough to not feel so lonely. 

I make my way down the cobblestone streets, the faelights casting a warm glow on the ground before me. It was late, and many couples were turning in for the night. I could see some cuddled up on their sofa’s through their windows, others were having a nightcap together outside Rita’s. I saw a couple rocking their newborn baby to sleep on the second floor of their home, and for some reason, that was the one that hurt the most to me.

I sighed as I walked up a few steps to my townhouse door. I unlocked the door and was greeted to the smell of jasmine and vanilla and the sound of a cracking fire. I walk up my steps to find Lucien sitting shirtless on my large bed, his hair in a bun at the nape of his neck. The male was the image of relaxation. 

I had given him a key months ago. With the males many jobs, emissary to the night court, ally to Jurian and Vassa,  and liaison to Tamlin, he needed a place to truly call home. For the past 9 months that had been here, with me. I never once objected to his subtle moving in, it was nice to come home to someone waiting for me, sometimes even a homemade meal. For him it was nice to have a  place where he didn’t always have to put on a front. It was a win for both of us. 

“When did you get in?” I ask kicking off my shoes. 

“Just a couple hours ago. How was Azriel duty?” he asked, setting his book down as I began to strip off my cloak and dress leaving me only in my lingerie. It wasn’t uncommon for us to be so casual with one another. 

“Exhausting, did you know that Elain wore a pretty blue dress the other day?” I mocked tossing my clothes into a dirty clothes bin, I noticed his missing shirt was there too.

“Unfortunately yes I did,” he chuckled. “You know what always makes me feel better though?” he smirks. 

“I crawl up the bed towards him, “What?” I smile knowing what the answer will be. 

“You,” he smirks, grabbing my hips and pinning me to the mattress beneath him, his lips pressing to mine. 

“How funny I was about to say the same thing,” I laugh, feeling his lips tickle my neck as he makes his way further down my body. 

His mouth trails the inside of my thighs before sliding my panties down my legs, each brush of his fingers from my hips to my ankles feeling like heaven. The male had been gone for a week, and I was desperate for release. He licks a long stripe up my center, flicking his tongue over the bundle of nerves at the top. My back arches off the bed and his hands find my waist to pin me down. I feel his tongue begin to lap at my clit as his fingers slide into me, no doubt finding the pool of wetness waiting there. 

This is what me and Lu had always been good at, reading each other. When he had a stressful day  I always made sure to make him feel good, and when I came back to the house upset he never hesitated to get on his knees for me. There was this unsaid rule that we would always take care of eachother. 

Lucien’s tongue continues lapping my clit as his fingers curl to hit that spot inside of me that had me gasping for air. As I started to feel myself getting closer and closer he removed his mouth from me, drawing his fingers out slowly. One thing about hooking up for a year? You learn to read each other's bodies, and lord did the seventh son of Autumn know how to read mine. 

“Lu!” I cry out frustrated. 

“Shhh my darling,” he coos crawling up my body. “I simply want to cum with you tonight.” he smirked, seething himself inside of me. 

“Oh gods!” I cry feeling him fill me thoroughly. 

He pulls out and thrusts back in causing me to whimper once more. Mor was right about one thing, the autumn court males have fire in their blood and they fuck like it too. 

“I missed you, missed this,” Lucien groans, his face contorted in pleasure as he builds a steady pace. 

“I missed you too Lu,” I say through ragged breaths as he fucks into me like his life depends on it. Apparently the time apart made him needy as well. 

I could hardly speak as he thrust deeper into me, his hands on my waist holding me steady so tha he could hit me as deep as possible. When I felt myself start to clench around him he doubled over, burying his head in my neck as his hips continued to snap into me.

My hands found his back clinging to the flesh there for an anchor, my walls fluttering around him one last time before I fell apart.The sudden sensation had Lucien biting my neck as he came with a low groan. 

We spent a few moments catching our breaths, he pushed up on his arms and moved a stray hair from my face, assessing to see if he had hurt me, just like he always did.  When he found no traces of pain in my face he rolled over, taking me with him so that I was lying on his chest. 

This was always the part I think we both craved the most. The sex was great, amazing even. But I longed for a pair of arms to fall asleep in, and he longed for someone to hold. Meaningless pillowtalk just for fun.

“I mean it, I did miss you,” I sigh circling my arms around his waist. 

“I missed you too, I hate sleeping in the spring court, it’s so cold and dark there now.” Lucien said, staring at the ceiling. 

“How is Tamlin?” I ask, already knowing the answer.

“Terrible,” he muttered. “I had to talk him into letting me stay.”  He continues playing with the ends of my hair. 

“You’re a good friend for checking in on him though,” I say matter of factly. 

“I still wish I could do more,” he sighs, pulling the covers up on the two of us.

“I understand,” I mutter keeping my head on his chest, staring at the fire that roars next to us. 

A long beat of comfortable silence passes, normally I would fall asleep like this. I would sometimes wake to him being gone, sometimes he would wake to me being gone. Only on weekends would both be able to wake up and go to breakfast together. This was one of those weekends, but instead of falling asleep, Lucien spoke up. 

“Can I ask you something?” he asked, not taking his gaze from the ceiling. 

“Sure,” I reply, waiting for a nonchalant inquiry. It wasn’t the first time he and I had played 20 questions to get to know each other more, though I thought that after a year of it we knew just about everything there was to know about the other. 

“Would you agree that Azriel and Elain are never going to give us a chance?” he asked. 

My heart twinges hearing his name, “Well Az doesn’t know, but even if he did I don’t think he would care. I’m not damsel in distress enough for him.” I snort recalling the unconscious type he has.

“I feel the same about Elain, and there’s something I’ve been thinking about, especially this past week,” he continues still facing the ceiling. 

I prop my head up on his chest wanting to read his face and his eyes flit to me, “Cryptic Vanserra, but go on,” I laugh trying to break the tension. 

“I’ve always been fond of you y/n ever since you visited the spring court all those years ago. Now that I’ve gotten to know you, that admiration has only grown, not to mention you’re a very beautiful female y/n,” he laughs at his own words, a tint of pink dusting his cheek and I can’t help but blush as well. “From the amount of time we’ve been spending together it seems you like me enough, and well…I don’t want to be alone anymore,” he says seemingly avoiding his main point. 

I sit up more, intrigued by his words, “What do you mean Lu?” I inquire. 

“I was wondering if you would like to be Mrs. Lucien Vanserra?” he finally says and my heart nearly stops at the shocking words. “I know I’m not Azriel, but consider me an alternative. I think we could make eachother genuinely happy, maybe help each other enjoy whatever we have left of this miserable life?” he asks, his voice laced with uncertainty. 

I let his words sink in as I stare at the bit of wall behind him. As I consider all that he’s said I realize that he’s right, we do get along. I had spent years trying to find a male to fill the hole Azriel put in my  life, but it always felt wrong. It was as if I was taking someone else’s mate, even when the males didn’t have mates.  It didn’t feel wrong being with Lucien because I knew that his mate also didn’t want anything to do with him. 

I was tired of not always having someone to come home to. Not having someone to go to events with. Not having someone to spend holidays with. Not having someone to call my own. I was tired of being alone, especially since I had been alone for about 400 years, but no longer. 

I smile down at Lucien’s nervous face, “I would be honored to be your wife,” I say. 

“You would?” he beams. 

“I would,” I repeated back to him. “You’re right, we do get along, and I’m tired of being alone too.” 

He presses his lips to mine, both of us smiling into the kiss. We would never fill the sadness of a rejected mating bond, but we would be there for one another. I lay my  head down on his chest again, feeling the sleep come into my eyes. 

“How should we do it?” he asked, tracing shapes on my bare back.

“Hmm,” I thought for a moment. A big wedding seemed odd considering we weren’t mates or anything close to it. Eloping seemed more proper. “I think we should keep it small.”

“Do we tell them?” He ponders the most awkward question.

“We can tell them, but we don’t need to invite them. It can be a modified elopement, they will all know but we can just invite my brother and Feyre, that way we both have family there.” I answer snuggling into his warmth more. 

“By the Cauldron I have to tell your brother I’ve been sleeping with you for over a year,” Lucien said anxiously, running a hand down his face. 

I can’t help but laugh at his stress, “He might be a little mad, but I’m sure Feyre will be so excited about it that he won’t care.” I giggle. 

I feel his body relax under my cheek, no doubt realizing that whatever the High Lady says will be law. He slides a red and gold ring off his pinky finger and slips it onto my left hand. 

“Here, it’s a family ring,” he explains looking at the gaudy ring on  my hand. While it fits on my finger well the jewel on it takes up my whole hand and looks unnatural. “I know I’m not part of the Autumn Court anymore but it’s all I have.” he continues.

“It’s perfect,” I laugh, inspecting the ill-fitting thing, “it’s an outcast just like us.”

Lucien's soft chuckle escapes him as he plants a gentle kiss atop my head. Tomorrow promises its usual dose of chaos, but that's a concern for another day. Tonight, here in bed with my fiancé, though this isn't the life I envisioned, I find myself flooded with a happiness I haven't felt in ages.

Part 2,

Part 3 (Lucien's Version)

Part 3 ( Azriel's Version)

Permanent Taglist: @fides25, @dissociated-always @crystalferret202

[shezzabee]

What are your thoughts on the idea that Inho's obsession with Gihun might do with the fact that Gihun reminds him of his dead wife?

I'm biased because I absolutely eat it up. I never been the same after seeing a post here that compared Gihun's s1 smiling photo with a photo of Inho's wife smiling.

There's also the fact that in s2 ep4, Inho called his wife stubborn, and how theres no point in arguing with her once she set her mind on something (going through her pregnancy despite her being very sick).

It made me think of Gihun's dedication of finding the Recruiter/Salesman, his insistance on being put back in the game...and him not listening to Inho when being told to get on the plane.

With this in mind, Inho's "Just get on the plane. It's for your own good." can be read more that just one man telling another man with who he shares similar trauma, to get the good life he doesn't have (but it's absolutely valid!!)

It could also be Inho (without realizing it) pleading for Gihun (his wife) to listen to him (the doctors), and (this time) survive. But just like with his wife, Gihun isn't budging with his decision. He made up his mind, go argue with a wall.

(Now it doesn't mean that Inho saw his wife in Gihun in an instance. It happens slowly as Inho gets closer to him)

Hi! Thanks for the question. I think I know the post you’re referring to—my shipper brain absolutely devoured that too, not gonna lie. XD

Even beyond the shipping lens, though, everything you’ve said really resonates. It feels like the core of their dynamic, doesn’t it? In-ho is clearly drawn to something about Gi-hun’s refusal to compromise on his principles, his unshakable belief in humanity, and his conviction that things can still turn out for the better. The only other person In-ho has explicitly mentioned as being just as stubborn as Gi-hun is his late wife, which feels like a significant parallel.

Now, of course, this is all speculation, and we won’t know In-ho’s full motivations until Season 3 (hopefully) sheds some light. But I don’t think In-ho has ever truly moved on from his wife’s death. He’s still grieving, still carrying the weight of that loss. He’s angry—angry at himself for not being there when his wife and child died, angry at the world for the circumstances that led to it, and probably angry at the Games themselves for existing. (I’ll die on the hill that In-ho hates the Games, despite being their enforcer.) He’s also angry at humanity at large for failing people in need, for letting the world get to this point.

And I think there’s a part of him that’s angry at his wife, too, (don't kill me, hear me out). She was self-sacrificing to a fault, willing to risk her own life to save their unborn child. That mirrors what we see in Gi-hun, especially at the end of Season 1. In the final game, after Sang-woo is defeated, Gi-hun refuses to abandon his morals to win, even when the easier path is right in front of him. That kind of unyielding determination, that refusal to bend—even at great personal cost—has to strike a nerve with In-ho.

Since In-ho can’t confront his late wife or tell her she was wrong to risk it all, to leave him alone, he directs all that unresolved grief and anger toward Gi-hun instead. Gi-hun becomes a constant, painful reminder of everything In-ho lost—and everything he’s come to resent about the world.

So, what does In-ho do? He sets out to break Gi-hun. To tear apart everything and everyone Gi-hun cares about until all that’s left is despair. Maybe then, In-ho can finally say: “See? There’s no point. None of it means anything. You were wrong—just like she was wrong.”

It’s a cruel and calculated move, but also deeply human. If he can prove that Gi-hun’s ideals and morals are meaningless, it would, in a twisted way, justify the choices In-ho has made and the person he’s become.

In the end, it’s not just about Gi-hun or his late wife. It’s about In-ho’s own pain, his need to make sense of the senseless, and his desperate attempt to validate the path he’s taken—even if it’s at the expense of someone who still believes in the good.

[xo-hoon]

𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝘆𝗲 — p.sh

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

genre: revenge, angst, smut, fluff

synopsis: Sunghoon nurtured a profound animosity towards his childhood friend, Lee Heeseung, blaming him for his sister's death. To Sunghoon, his sister was the only person who had genuinely loved him, making Heeseung's perceived betrayal unforgivable. This deep resentment sparked an intense desire for revenge, driving Sunghoon to extreme measures to achieve it. But to what extent would he go to find satisfaction in his vengeance against Lee Heeseung? Would his plans unfold smoothly, or would everything take an unexpected turn, throwing his schemes into something he didn’t expect.

word count: 7k

warnings: swearing, kidnapping (kinda), possessive hoon, mentions of death, fake marriage, depression.

an eye for an eye: part 1 - masterlist

The familiar feeling of emptiness flooded his body. Sunghoon’s eyes were lifeless as the they gazed at the coffin where his sister’s remains lay.

This was the same feeling he had when his father’s mistress left him at his biological father’s mansion.

He felt the coldness of his father towards him. He felt the hatred of his father’s wife. He saw disappointment in his grandparents’ faces.

He was unloved and unwanted, it was a no brainer.

For a six-year-old child, it was all too much to take. When he was living with his mother, he was treatedlike shit. And when he lived with his father, there was no difference at all. It’s no wonder why he became wary of people. He wouldn’t want to talk to anyone, nor be in the same room as them. He would only go out to eat and return to his room to lock himself up. He even thought back then that his existence was big bad joke.

But one day, a girl with the same dark brown eyes as his went inside his room and forced him to leave the house and drink up some sunshine. He had no other choice but to follow the girl because she would never let go of his hand.

Truth to be told, Sunghoon found the girl irritating, he wanted to hurt her. But when she said that she was his sister and that she would protect him from all evil, he was left speechless. Because for the first time in years, there was a person who wanted to protect him. Her older sister’s smile made him cry, not because of sadness, but because of happiness.

He let out a hollow laugh. He will never see those smiles of her sister ever again. Those good old times would now be just a mere memory.

He slightly turned his head when he heard someone familiar talking behind him. Sunghoon’s jaw clenched as he stared at the cause of his beloved sister’s death, Lee Heeseung. His bestfriend and her sister’s boyfriend.

With heavy feet, he stood up and approached the guy and his father who he was talking to.

“You’re not welcome here, Lee Heeseung. Leave” His voice was hard and heavy.

“Park Sunghoon!” His father reprimanded.

“Uncle, can you please give us a minute? We’re just going to talk.”

“If you want to explain what happened, then let me tell you that you’re just wasting your time.” He said, blankly, not showing an ounce of emotion to the guy in front of him.

“Please, Sunghoon, listen to me. I didn’t want all of this to happen. I-I’m sorry.” Heeseung sounded so pathetically contrite, making him want to vomit.

“So you want me forgive you just like that, Heeseung?” He sarcastically remarked. Heeseung shook his head with a sigh and looked at Sunghoon with pleading eyes once again.

“I know it was partly my fault, and I am also hurting, Sunghoon. You know how much I love your sister, and I wouldn’t ask for this to happen.”

“You wouldn’t ask for this to happen?” He sharply retorted what the guy said. “It was the middle of the fucking night, yet you asked her to go out riding in your stupid car. You asked her to leave even if it was already late. Clearly, you asked for this the happen! You are the reason why my sister is lying there!” He lashed out, pointing at the coffin where her sister’s lifeless body lie.

“It was our anniversary! I invited her out because I wanted to surprise her!” Heeseung’s left hand balled into a fist he was sure the right one would do the same if it weren’t in a sling due to the accident.

“Yeah, and because of that stupid surprise, my sister died.” He saw the look of hurt in his best friend’s eyes, but the pain that he is seeing wasn’t enough for him. He wanted to beat the shit out of Heeseung and kill him with his bare hands, but that would be too easy.

“I didn’t know that a drunk driver would appear and hit us! If only I knew… I-if only I knew…” Heeseung’s eyes reddened with pain.

Sunghoon’s greeted his teeth, turning away. “Leave.”

“Sunghoon, please….”

“Just leave!” he hissed. “Leave and don’t ever show your face to me ever again.” He said in a serious tone.

“Sunghoon?” He was quick to turn his head towards the source of the voice. There stood Y/n, standing next to Heeseung as she anxiously glanced back and forth between the two. “Why would you say that to my brother?”

His lips pressed firmly with a stern expression. “Because his idea of a pleasant surprise is a bad joke.”

That was all he said before returning to his seat. He didn’t bother to look at the two again, and he wasn’t able to see Y/n’s eyes widen in surprise. He only heard the faint farewells of the two to his father.

Once again, Sunghoon confined in his own lonely world. He feels like he was cursed and happiness was forcefully denied to him. Losing his sister who helped him break free from his dark world was painful.

Losing a friend that he considered a family was painful.

Losing the woman he had learned to love was painful.

In just a snap, he lost the people who gave color to his world.

10 years later…

The service crew was very attentive, Sunghoon noticed. The place was modern and cozy. He hadn’t taste any of the pastries yet, but they looked appetizing. All in all, the bakeshop was pretty impressive. There’s no wonder why a lot of people go here.

On the other hand, it was quite a surprise that he’s in the shop. This was the first time he set foot in this place.

He wouldn’t bother to come if it weren’t for something important, especially since the owner of this bakeshop is the sister of someone he despises.

Yes, he knew you owned this place.

Your town is small enough for him to not know that. So, why the hell would he choose to meet someone in your haven of all places? There was a ninety-nine percent chance of him seeing you there. But what can he do about it?

His ‘oh so noble father’ commanded him to meet with the girl he liked for him. Obviously wanting him to settle down already. And because that he is the only son of his beloved father, he has no right to oppose to it.

He felt his phone rang and he answered.

“Yes?”

“Hey, Mr. Park.”

Said the girl on the other line. The voice sound forcefully seductive it sounded cheap to his ear.

“May I know who’s on the other line?”

Sunghoon asked lazily and almost rolled his eyes.

“This is Shin Yuna. I’m the one you’re meeting at the bakery in town.”

His eyes went searching for a woman who was on the phone, probably speaking with him. At the door he saw a woman wearing a tight-fitting yellow dress. The woman had a phone pressed to one ear, her eyes scanning the inside of the shop. Looks like she was the one he’s waiting for.

He ended that call once her eyes landed on him. Evidently, she’d recognize him. A sensual smile appeared on her bloody red lips and she started walking towards him.

He should feel lucky because the woman was a catch. Her skin was smooth and fair, she had shiny, long hair. And in his opinion, aside from her hourglass figure, the girl’s flawless legs were her best asset, free from any scars.

She was gorgeous all right. But it doesn’t have an impact on Sunghoon.

Yuna must be one of those girls who are pretty on the outside, empty in the inside. Beautiful but annoying and boring.

He stood up as the girl approached. He offered his hand but she didn’t take it. Instead, she leaned to give him a kiss on his cheek. Okay, he wasn’t at all shocked by that.

“Nice to meet you Mr. Park” she greeted

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Shin.”

“Please, call me Yuna.” She said with a wide almost flirty smile. “Then call me Sunghoon.” He motioned her to the seat in front of him. “Please, have a seat.”

“Thank you, have you ordered anything yet” she said as she sat.

Sunghoon shook his head. “Not yet, I was waiting for you. And it’s my first time here, I don’t know what food to choose.” Her hand rested on his arm and he wasn’t born yesterday to not know that she was openly flirting with him.

“Oh Really? You should try their famous gyeran-ppang. It’s a fluffy loaf of bread with a whole egg inside. It’s really good, I suggest you try it.”

Sunghoon suddenly remembered you, gyeran-ppang was your favorite ever since. Be it sweet of savory. He didn’t expect that those two could be brought together.

“If you liked it, maybe I should try it.” He simply said, trying to push away the memories. Yuna’s eyes sparkled, and he wanted to roll his eyes, but Sunghoon retrained himself. What was an hour of enduring this infront of her, right?

“Okay, I’ll just go to the counter to order, since this is a self-service shop.” Yuna said as he noticed a slight frown on her face. “I hope next time they hire waiters here so customers won’t have to go to the counter to do the job.”

Ah, he knew it.

His assumptions were correct, the girl only visually pleasing. Deep inside, she was a typical rich brat. He found his father’s taste in girl quite funny.

“It’s like hitting two birds with one stone. The service would be aster, plus it would provide jobs for jobless people. That way, more customers would go here, and it would reduce the number of unemployed people.” She annoyingly added further.

God help him stop himself from sneering. As if he’d believe that shit. What could this girl possibly know about work and helping other people?

“Yeah, you’re right.” He answered dryly. “I’ll order, I’m the guy here and I should be the one treating you and taking care of things.”

She sweetly smiled at him once again. “Why, thank you, Sunghoon. I’ll have two gyeran-ppang and one iced coffee. And please ask for a fork and knife while you’re at it.”

“Alright.” He gave her a small smile and quickly stood up, immediately walking his way to the counter to escape his date. He wished the serving of their food would last longer, but the workers in the shop were indeed good at what they do. In less than six minutes. He was back at his table with Yuna waiting for him.

“Go ahead and try it.” She urged him to sit down as their order was served. He took a bit of the gyeran-ppang and he instantly knew why it became popular in the area.

“It’s good right?” He simply nodded in response. Yuna then picked up the bread knife and fork that he requested earlier and used them to eat.

“Why use a fork and knife? It’s a finger food.” He couldn’t help but to ask.

“Oh, eating it with my fingers would be a mess, and my lipstick would smudge if I eat it directly.” Sunghoon avoided raising the corners of if his lips.

“I see. I’m surprised that you eat food like this and have that kind of body.” Yuna let out a shy laugh at his statement.

“I’m very conscious with what I eat, but when I tried this a few weeks ago, I forgot the diet. I even bought boxes of it for the orphanage that we were helping, And the kids loved it too.”

She was trying to impress him by mentioning the word orphanage? Would it be a bad idea to laugh? Or was he being too hard on this girl? After all, what did he know about Yuna? He didn’t even bother to make an effort to find out about the girl’s demeanor before coming here. Is her values really worth his time? Sunghoon bit his lip to stop himself from commenting something he’d regret saying later on.

Sunghoon glanced at the entrance of the bakeshop and he swore he felt his heart pounded. A pang of nostalgia when he saw a familiar figure arrive.

You were like an angel minus the wings and the halo. You were wearing a simple with dress that gave you sweet and innocent look. He didn’t expect that you would become even more beautiful than you are over the years. Your rosy white skin was flawless, he longed to touch it. Your lips were full and naturally pink. He almost tasted those once and he suddenly had this urge to kiss you.

He sighed forcefully, everything about him was cold earlier but he felt so damn hot in an instant just by seeing you. He wanted to own you, he wanted to make you his.

Sunghoon felt his heart race at he continued to stare at your face, feeling the rush of warmth in his body.

The beautifully scattered moles on your face made you look more unique ang exquisite to him. Back then, Sunghoon thought he could spend the rest of his life just by looking at your lovely face. Your beautifully sculpted brown eyes with thick and long lashes were still bright and full of life. He wanted to lose himself one day while looking at those hypnotic vivid orbs.

You walked you way towards the counter and greeted your staff with a bright smile.

The sun’s heat was nothing compared to the warmth of your smile. You were like the sun, only brighter, with inky black hair shining.

Now that’s his kind of pretty. You would always be his kind of pretty. Your beauty was ethereal, it was second to none in Sunghoon’s eyes. He mustered all his strength to look away from the person who evoked such emotions from him.

He tried to put his focus on the person in front of him, but his eyes would occasionally wander back to you.

“So, what are you busy with these days?” He heard Yuna asked him.

“Work, I guess.” He shrugged. “We export high quality mangoes to our neighboring countries.”

“Oh. Yeah, my parents and I visited your mango farm once. And I must say, your place is very refreshing.”

“Thank you, how about you? What your work?” He asked to have something to talk about, not because he wanted to know.

Yuna took a sip of her iced coffee before responding.

“I’m an interior designer, I often have famous celebrities as my client.” She said, feeling proud. “You know that one actor in squid game? He was my last client. Tell you what, his mansion was large, so I was very happy that I got the project.”

He tried his best not to look bored.

What does he care about celebrities? He hadn’t even watched this movie that she was talking about. But he needed to endure all this for two reasons. First, he didn’t want to be rude no matter how his inner demon wished to be. And second, to distract himself from your presence.

His only problem now is how will he hide himself from the owner of this bakery.

—

“Hey, Ning. How are you all doing?” You asked your worker working on the cashier as you entered the counter.

“We’re doing fine, Y/n. It was a bit of a hassle earlier because there were loads of customers, but it was overall doing alright. I mean, what’s a little hassle when you can earn profit, right?” Ningning said, smiling widely.

You giggled. “Yes, true. Sorry for being late, I wasn’t able to help you here. I just had something to take care of back home.”

“No, Y/n. It’s all good, you’re the boss here after all. You don’t have to worry about a single thing, we got you.” She said reassuringly, smiling softly at you.

“Yeah, Y/n. Besides, we know you’re going through something tough right now. How was everything anyway?” Sunoo, your amazing barista, asked. You sighed deeply before answering the young man.

“It’s not settled yet, our ranch is still a mess.”

“Oh, Y/n. Don’t be down like that, you’re going to get through everything sooner than you think.” You just smiled a Sunoo’s statement.

You needed money to rebuild the barn. You needed to hire new workers to manage the ranch. It could all be solved with money, but the problem is you don’t have much of it.

Ever since your parents died few years ago, your brother took over the management of the estate.

But what can Heeseung do when half of his life was into car racing? Even you don’t know how to run a ranch because your job is making different kinds of delicious bread. Before you and Heeseung could even realize it, the inheritance your parents left you both was slowly falling apart.

And now you and your brother wanted to save the precious land. You would give all the earning from the bakeshop just to make it work, but it was just wasn’t enough. You and Heeseung tried going to the banks, but they turned you down every time you tried. Your brother doesn’t want your house or land as collateral.

You were thankful for the people working for your shop as they wholeheartedly give you their support.

“Thank you for comforting my, guys. Don’t worry, if everything settles down, I’ll definitely throw a party.” They all cheered as you smiled.

You went out to fix the displays in the counter. You didn’t notice someone passing by, making you bump into them.

“I’m sorry,” You apologized, realizing that you bumped into a woman. She quickly brushed off the area you bumped into and gave you a sharp look.

“Next time, watch where you’re going.” She turned to look at the person next to her and whispered.

“Sunghoon, let’s go?”

You felt like you were turned into stone and it looks like Sunghoon felt the same way. It seems like he was frozen in place where he stood, his gaze solely fixed on you.

But it seemed like you’re mistaken because when you looked closely at the man, his face had no expression at all.

He had changed, but not really. He was still the same Sunghoon. Only stronger, leaner, harder, darker, and more attractive. It scared you, he scared you. Yet, you wanted to reach out and talk to him. But to your utter dismay, he just walked past you. And before you knew, he was long gone. Again.

Sunghoon kept telling himself that he was not a stalker, but it had been five days and this was his fifth time your bakeshop. He just couldn’t go inside. So for those five days, he contented himself with parking in front of your shop, and watching from inside his car.

When he saw you again, he had a big idea in mind, and yes, that was the reason why he kept going to your bakeshop. Sadly, he would always go home without seeing you.

He couldn’t help overhearing the conversation between you and your employees. Their table wasn’t that far from the counter so it was inevitable. He was surprised that you didn’t notice him right away. But if Sunghoon were to talk about surprising things, what he heard was even more surprising.

It looked like karma found its way to Lee Heeseung. He should be happy about it and somehow, he was.

Heeseung took something from him, someone important, so Sunghoon should take someone important from him too.

A sister for a sister. An eye for an eye.

He glanced at his watch and told himself that this should be the perfect time. He got out of his car and walked straight towards the bakeshop. It was already past eight o’clock, but the bakeshop was still almost full.

He noticed the two service crew he saw last time, staring at him, but they immediately turned their backs on him. He approached them.

“Told you, the person inside the black car that is always parked in front of the shop isn’t a bad person. Look at him, he’s too handsome to be a bad person.” He heard the girl he assumed the name was Ningning.

“Seriously? Just because someone isn’t physically attractive doesn’t mean they’re a bad person, you know? And not everyone who looks good is automatically good. You’re being too judgmental.” Sunoo rebuked.

“And what thing could he possibly do, huh?” Ningning asked sarcastically.

“Hello? Ever heard of the saying ‘looks can be deceiving’?” Sunghoon tried not to smirk. Because their backs were facing him, they weren’t able to notice him approaching a while ago.

“Excuse me?” He said, gaining attention from the two. Ningning turned around, her eyes slightly widened.

“Yes, Sir? How can we help you?” Despite the surprise, she quickly regained her composure.

Sunghoon gave her a slight smile. “Um, I’m looking for Y/n. Is she here?” He noticed the two exchanged glances as Ningning seemed a bit hesitant before responding.

“May I ask what’s your relation to Miss Y/n, Sir?”

“I’m a friend. I’d like to have a word with her.”

“Miss Y/n is still in her office.” He saw her co-worker elbowed her, but he didn’t pay much attention to it. “If you’d like, you can have a seat while waiting for her.”

“Okay, Thank you.” He said, walking around the shop to find a comfortable seat. And he couldn’t help but to overhear their conversation once again.

“Friend? Then why am I just seeing him now?”

“I don’t know. He seems nice to me even though he looks a bit harsh.”

“Oh well. Good thing Jake is not here or else he might get jealous.”

For some godforsaken reason, he found his heart tightening at the name he just heard. Who was this Jake guy that might get jealous over him? Is it your Suitor? Boyfriend? Fiance? Sunghoon clenched his jaw. Just imagining another man touching a strand of your inky black hair made him feel sick.

He sat on an empty table near the counter and patiently waited there.

“Ningning, Sunoo, I’m leaving. Will you two be alright staying?” Said the enticing voice near the counter. He glanced over and saw you there.

“Call me whenever something happened, alright? I’ll get going.”

“Oh, Y/n! someone is looking for you.” Ningning said before she forgot. Your brows furrowed as you looked Ningning with a puzzled expression.

“Who?”

Sunghoon stood up and spoke. “Me.” He watched your eyes grow wide with shock as he walked towards you. “Can we talk?”

“I… Of course.” You absent-mindedly nodded. You pointed at the room where you came from. “Let’s go to my office.”

The air tensed up the moment you both entered your office. You sat on your chair as Sunghoon took the visitor’s chair. His eyes were trained on your face while you were looking down on your lap. No one dared to speak. It was dead quiet inside the room, a silent standstill.

Sunghoon decided not to make rhings more awkward. “It’s been a while Y/n.” Great, you suck at opening conversations, man. He honestly wanted to smack himself.

You looked up and your eyes met. “Yeah, it has been a while. How are you?” You slightly smiled at him.

“I’m doing great. You? How are you? I heard your having problems at the ranch.” He paused at what he said. It made him wonder if he was rushing the conversation.

“How did you know?” You asked hesitantly. “The town is a small place, Y/n.” She firmly pressed her lips together. For someone sweet and innocent-looking, you could be fiery too.

“Yes, there’s a big problem at the ranch, but it would be solved in no time.”

“Really?” He raised an eyebrow at the intensity he heard in your voice. “According to what I’ve heard, you were having troubles finding the money needed to fix things on your ranch. So, I came here to offer a proposal.” He leaned on the chair and watched your confused face. You were always this transparent, it’s likely that you now think he’s going crazy.

“What proposal?” You asked with confusion written all over your face.

“I will lend the money you need for the ranch, but you have to marry me.” His simple answer seemed like he was just inviting you to go out ang have a picnic. You looked at him with an unreadable expression before you respond.

“I’m going to what?!”

“You heard me.” He knew it was unnecessary because she could always reach him if she wanted to. But Sunghoon still took a business card from his wallet and placed it on the table.

“I want you to think about it. Call me whenever you made up your mind.”

You stood up from your seat and looked at him with hard eyes. “If you’re just playing around like you used to do, just leave, Sunghoon. Don’t waste my time.”

He also stood up to remind you of the significant height difference you both had.

“I’m not fooling around, Y/n. I’m dead serious.”

“Then why? Why would you want to marry me?” You asked, still stunned be his offer.

“For revenge, I guess? I’ll lend your dear brother the money to help with the recovery of your ranch. But after that, you will cut ties with him. You can’t meet him nor even talk to him.” He took a deep breath before letting out the next heavy words.

“He took my sister from me, I will take you away from him. It’s my kind of revenge.”

“You’re crazy.”

“Oh, yeah?” He smirked but once again quickly turned serious. “Whose fault is that?”

“Why would you think would I agree to that?” You tilted you chin up, trying to defy him. Too bad, it was futile. The corner of his mouth went up again. “Because you’ve got no other option.”

“You’re insane.”

“Crazy? Insane? Well, maybe you could come up with something more colorful after this.” He grabbed your nape and captured you sinfully pink lips. The table wasn’t able to hinder him from giving you something that would shake your world.

—

Your heart was pounding as you proceeded to enter your house. You still couldn’t believe what just happened thirty minutes ago. The Sunghoon whom you secretly love, and the friend who suddenly left you and your brother returned to shake up your world once again.

One slap wasn’t enough for what he did to you. And he has the audacity to be the one walking out after his recklessness.

You touched your lips. Until now, you still feel the young man’s kiss and the warmth of his lips brushing against yours. It was a shocking first time and definitely a memorable one. But despite all that, you felt butterflies in your stomach.

You took a deep breath before walking to the kitchen to get something to drink. But on your way, your gaze drifted towards the study room. The room was slightly ajar. You approached and entered.

You saw your brother sitting on the swivel chair with his eyes closed. He looks beat and tired and it pained you. If there’s only something you could do to help solve this problem, you had already done it.

Then it hit you. You could do something to help you dear brother and fix the problem. Only, there was a price to pay.

It has already been ten years since Sunghoon’s sister died. Maybe it’s time for you to do something to make him forgive your brother and move on. Maybe you could at least give him a bit of happiness, maybe you could do something to bring him back to his old self.

You glanced at your brother. Please, trust me on this.

It would be hard, you knew. But you needed to do something to save them all.

“We’re here,” Sunghoon announced. “Nervous?”

You looked out the car window and surveyed the grand mansion that would become your new home. Your heart was racing, and you felt like your heartbeat was at one hundred and seventy bars per minute. You felt nauseous, your hands were badly sweating and you were having a hard time breathing.

No, you weren’t nervous. You were having an anxiety attack.

Sunghoon unbuckled your seatbelt before holding your face with both hands, waiting for to look into his eyes. His eyes were dark and sensual. Nope, it didn’t help you calm down a bit.

“Are you okay? You look pale.” He asked with concern in his voice. He felt your forehead and neck as if checking if you had a fever.

You felt electricity ran through your body because of his touch. Feeling as if you were burning, you pulled away from him and averted your gaze somewhere else.

“I’m fine. It’s just that, this was all so sudden.” You noticed his expression darken from the corner of your eyes.

“Then get used to it because you’re my wife starting today.”

Before you could even respond, he already exited the car and opened the passenger side door for you. He took the duffle bag containing a few pieces of your clothes. He then held your hand as you both walked towards the mansion.

“Don’t be so stiff, Y/n. There’s no way I would hurt you, you know?”

You knew Sunghoon was telling the truth, but it wasn’t enough to calm you down. He wouldn’t hurt you, he said. Still, he had the power to, especially now that you were married.

It all happened so fast. Just last week you were still a Lee, and you still couldn’t believe that you are now Mrs. Park.

After that night, you went to your bakery and called Sunghoon the next morning. And a week later, you were now married. No entourage, reception or whatsoever.

After the civil wedding with the judge that Sunghoon knew, you went straight to the mansion, you didn’t even manage to say goodbye to your brother who was currently not in korea.

At the mansion’s door, you were both greeted by Aunt Chul, the house keeper. Sunghoon and his sister had nannies when they were children, but they remained closest to the woman.

“Dear!” Aunt Chul greeted you as she gave you a warm hug, then gently held your face as she pulled away.

“How are you? It has been so long and you grew beautifully, Dear.”

Despite everything, you were able to put a happy and genuine smile on your face. “Thank you, Auntie. I’m doing great, and you?”

“Oh, I’m not getting any younger, dear! I think I can count the remaining black hairs I have left.” The woman joked, laughing slightly.

“You still look great, Auntie.” You smiled at her, shaking you head slightly.

“You’re still the same old playful one, aren’t you?” she teased. “Now come get inside, I prepared you both something to eat.”

She turned to Sunghoon and looked at him. “Let me take that bag, son.”

“Oh, no. We can handle this, Auntie. Thank you.” He said embracing the elderly person.

“My wife and I are just going to have a talk before we eat.” You froze when you heard him say the word ‘wife’. Yes, there’s no mistaking it. You really are Park Sunghoon’s wife.

When you glanced at the woman, there’s not a trace of surprise marred her serene face, which puzzled you.

“Alright, you know where to go when you two want to eat.” She smiled softly.

Sunghoon guided you upstairs to the room where you’re staying.

The room was definitely Sunghoon, very neat and manly. The walls were painted white, accommodating the rich hue of the big bed and built-in cabinets. Everything was well placed and clean.

“You may find my room dull and boring.” He said as he placed your bag on the side of the dresser. “But you may refurnish it however you like. Have the walls painted, the curtains changed. Just don’t put too much pink.”

You blushed at what he said, you were a girl who has a deep obsession with color pink ever since. And it seems like he still remembers that about you. But as much as you wanted to renovate the room and make it appear more your style, you wouldn’t do so. You liked the room as it was.

You didn’t notice Sunghoon approaching, so you gasped when you felt your husband pulling you by the waist closer to him.

“Let’s talk.”

“Y-yes, of course – Sunghoon!” You let out a small scream as the strong man lifted you up, and you had no choice but to wrap your arms around his shoulders.

“Sunghoon, what the hell are you doing?”

“I was supposed to carry you over the threshold, but I knew that you would snap at me if Aunt Chul sees us.” He answered with a gorgeous grin on his face. For a minute, he looked like the boy you used to know.

The guy you used to love.

But no matter how handsome the young man appeared to you now, you still couldn’t stop the seething the anger in your heart towards him.

“And you think I wouldn’t do that now? I did that once before, I could do it again.”

“Oh, trust me. I’m more prepared this time.” He said with a twinkle in his eyes. He dropped you onto the bed and hovered above you. You gasped for air when you felt his hard body on top of yours. You were sure that when you entered this room, the AC was on, but for some reason the air became thick and hot and filled with desire.

“I t-thought we’re going to talk?” Your voice was shaky and far different from you challenging voice earlier.

“We are. We’ll talk like this.” He lowered his head and nestled into your neck. You had never been intimate with any man. This was new to you. Your heart was beating wildly and you afraid Sunghoon would hear it.

You felt so warm, it was as if your bones were melting. It felt good to be this close to him. And he had been hugging you for a while now. He was the only man who could make you feel extreme emotions.

“I told them about us.” You heard him mumble, his hot breath licking your cold neck.

“You… what?” You asked, disoriented.

“I told everyone in this house about us. Even my dad that’s currently in Japan.” He lifted his head and looked at you as if you as if he wanted to know what you were thinking, if not to absorb your very soul.

“You told them about our agreement?”

“No, I only told them that we were getting married. That I couldn’t wait about Dad’s arrival. That we saw each other again, and instantly fell in love. So make sure to be a loving wife to me, especially in front of them.”

As if he needed to say it. “Of course. But I hope you don’t forget about the other part of the agreement. The money, Sunghoon. I need it.”

“I didn’t forget about that. I’ll give it to your brother as soon as I see him.”

“Glad to hear tha—“

Sunghoon slowly lowered his head, your eyes widened. “Wait, what are you-“

“You’re mine, Y/n. Including your body.” He said with his tempting mouth.

You wanted to stop him and tell him to stop what he was doing, but no words came out of your lips. Instead, a sound coming from your stomach halted your husband’s advances. You didn’t know whether to feel embarrassed or thankful. You were saved, not by the bell, but by your tummy.

God! Sunghoon didn’t need to smile, amusement was in his eyes.

“Maybe we should eat first.” Sunghoon withdrew from being pressed against you, stood up, and extended his hand towards you.

“Come.” You hesitantly took his hand and stood up as well, feeling quite embarrassed.

“Do you still know the way to the dining room?” He asked as you refused to meet his gaze, just nodding in response.

“Do you mind going there alone? I just needed to call someone. I’ll join you in a few minutes.”

You just nodded again and quickly left the room. Usually, after the wedding comes the honeymoon. Or in your case, funnymoon.

—

The moment you—or rather, his wife—stepped outside, Sunghoon finally let go of the smile he had been holding back.

Yes, you had become matured and become tough over the past few years, but in many ways, you still hadn’t really changed. You were still funny, cute, adorable, and his.

His previously bright face was now replaced by a blank expression. Finally, Heeseung would experience what it was like to lose someone important to him. The only difference is that no one would die.

He wouldn’t hurt you, at least, not intentionally ang physically. Never. Heeseung was still lucky that Sunghoon had some semblance of a heart left.

All he wanted was to emotionally torture him. He would make his heart bleed in sorrow, until he would beg him to stop.

And that would start now.

He picked up his phone and dialed a number. On the third ring, the person he was trying to reach answered.

“Yes, hello?”

His grip on the device tightened upon hearing the voice of the man he despises.

“Heeseung.”

He could taste the bitterness in his own voice. The man on the other line wasn’t able to respond immediately, so he continued.

“I heard you’re not in korea right now.”

“No, I’m not. What do you need, Sunghoon?”

He asked directly, without preamble.

Nothing, you’re the one who’s going to need something from me.

“Nothing, really. But if I were you, I’d go back to korea right now.”

He could already see the furrow on his former friend’s face. Soon he would face his range, but instead of being afraid, he would actually be glad to see it.

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s Y/n. She left your house and she’s with me now. Too bad you weren’t there when she left.”

It was a shame for Sunghoon the he couldn’t see firsthand how the person on the other line is reacting.

He bet it would be priceless.

“You son of a bitch. What did you do to her?!”

He heard the grinding of his interlocutor’s teeth making him chuckle sarcastically.

“You asshole!”

“Yeah, Heeseung. Curse me all you want, but I’ll make sure that you will never get see your sister again. I will make you pay for all the things you did. Prepare yourself because I will take you to the hell you put me through.”

He ended the call. With his hands shaking, he exhaled sharply. He forced himself to calm down before he began to walk out of the room.

Maybe he shouldn’t have gone to the dining room just yet. He’s still feeling the anger coursing through his body, and he didn’t want anyone to see him like that, especially you.

But when he saw your beautiful face with a smile plastered on it while chatting with Aunt Chul, the heavy emotions enveloping him suddenly dissipated.

While looking at you glowing face, he lost the bitterness and pain that he had been feeling. Your bright smile simply made the pain go away. He was certain of what he was feeling. About his fear ang pain going away.

He took a deep breath once again ang approached the two, specifically you. He leaned down and kissed you on the forehead, disregarding the watchful eyes of the elderly person nearby.

“What are you two talking about?” He asked. Aunt Chul smiled at him and seemed to chat with him like a child.

“I never knew Y/n had a bakeshop in town. If I’m not mistaken, one of the helpers bought the bread I liked there. Turns out Y/n was the owner.”

He sat beside you and held your hand, giving it a tight squeeze. “Yeah, her pastries and sweets are indeed famous in town.” He stated, smiling proudly.

“Y/n also told me the she hasn’t had a boyfriend. She had suitors, but didn’t accept any of them.” The woman gossiped.

“Auntie!” You playfully reprimanded the her.

Sunghoon threw a glance at you. “Oh?”

His face lit up, secretly smiling to himself. So it was likely that the guy named Jake whom your employees were referring to was you suitor. He suddenly felt relieved. He glanced at your plate that is still empty.

“You haven’t eaten yet?” He asked you as you shook your head in response.

“Not yet. I was busy chatting with auntie.”

“Tell you what, Sunghoon. Your wife was just really waiting for you to come here.” Aunt Chul remarked.

“Alright, I’ll leave you two love birds alone to enjoy your food.”

Once the two of you were left alone, Sunghoon couldn’t help but let a smile spread across his face.

“So, you were waiting for me, huh?” He said teasingly.

“I wasn’t waiting for you. The conversation with Auntie just really hit the spot.”

“Yeah, sure. Let’s eat.”

They ate in silence. You sat beside him quietly with your head bowed as you eat. You were like some kind of a shy teenager sitting next to her crush.

Sunghoon smiled a little as he remembered their happy memories. You were just like this back then when you two are being teased together. You would blush furiously and he just enjoy the teasing.

“I’ll go upstairs to take a shower ang get changed.” You said after he was done eating.

But before you could fully stand up, he pulled you back into the chair and bestowed a gentle kiss on your lips.

“Please don’t tempt me like that.” Your eye widened and your lips parted in surprise. Your face reddened and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning. You quickly stood up and rushed away from him.

Well, it was useless since no matter what you do, you were already his. Nothing could ever separate you from him, not even your brother.

Sunghoon’s smile faded, and his eyes grew cold.

You would be forever his, and you had no idea of what the future lies ahead of you.

[yannaryartside]

CARMY NEVER WANTED TO CREATE A MENU WITH SYD.

AND WHY THAT IS THE CORE THEME OF THE SHOW

PART 1: THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIEVES

So, one of the bases of creating an efficient character arc is to give the character something they want, and something they need. In the pursuit of getting what they want, the theme of the show and obstacles will show them what they need. Most of the time, they need healing from an emotional wound that prevents them from growing into the ultimate version of themselves, capable of winning the challenges of the story. I will try to explore Carmy's wound and, more importantly, the lie that created that wound.

In 'The negative trait thesaurus" by Angela Ackerman and Becca Puglisi, it reads:

"Wounds are often kept secret from others because embedded within them is the lie-an untruth that the character believes about himself."

When I started therapy (disclaimer: this is not professional advice; I am just talking from how I interpreted all of this), I was introduced to the concept of "limiting beliefs:" lies we have told ourselves about our own nature or the nature of the world. The most difficult beliefs to leave behind are those established in our early childhoods, and we told ourselves those lies to make sense of the world, to make peace with realities we were not equipped to comprehend yet. 

Some examples of lies people belive:

"I am too stupid to learn anything; my teacher said so" "It was my fault that I was molested." "I am a bad person for wanting a different life."

When people believe these lies, they will act accordingly, maybe attracting situations that hurt them but keeping the lie active in their lives. They may self-sabotage or create bonds with people who also believe the lie, even if it doesn't seem this way. 

In some cases, people may develop complete personalities or behaviors to prove the lie wrong, but deep down, they still believe in the lie. Carmy falls into this last category. This is where we find the most contradictory parts of his personality, how he can act shy and insecure in some instances and appear confident and even aggressive in others. 

Long post underneath.

THE RESENT OF A MOTHER:

We can only assume here because I think Storer is gonna let us know more about this soon, but I think I got an idea of this wound when I saw the only moment Carmy was alone with Donna on "Fishes."

I have a lot of things to say about Donna herself, but let's begin with the obvious: the conversation in this scene had little to do with the dinner itself. This was a woman stating that she felt alone and not valued, probably due to being abandoned by her husband and having to overwork herself at the beef to support her 3 kids, all while being a single mother. We don't know if this feeling of abandonment is something she has carried since childhood, but in the state of current womanhood, it wouldn't be uncommon. The work of women (especially mothers), particularly the emotional labor, is rather invisible and not valued at all.

But again, this is something she has used as fuel to resent her kids, who, at the end of the day, didn't ask to be here. Her anger has to go somewhere since she cannot direct it toward the people that ctually caused it. To get to the point:

THE BEARZATTO SYBLING DYNAMIC

Carmy said, "You are not alone; I am here with you." (This kind of comes back to telling Syd she was not alone at the end of the season.) This scene is about a kid trying to communicate to his mother that he loves her and trying desperately to connect with her, to get her to express her affection for him as well.

It tells me that growing up, he felt like he had to "earn" her affection. Donna likes to make her kids feel guilty about her unhappiness, so the kids feel that they are constantly walking on shells because they think their mother hates them, or at least that she resents them and that it is their responsibility to fix it.

In the scene, Carmy asked,

"What is so hard, Mom?"

I think what he was actually asking is, "What is so hard about being with us, to love us? What did we do to you that made you resent us this way?" He is asking because he wants to know, to finally understand. Why do you drink, Mom? Why do you yell? Why do you say such hurtful things?

When she answers, "Nobody makes things beautiful for me," you can see in his face the disconnection. He knows he can't do anything about that.

Then, a crucial part in the scene occurs when Donna calls him "Michael, " which indicates that the only one of her children who could make her feel happy was Michael, or at least that is how the other two kids felt. You can see the hurt in Carmy's eyes in the scene because this answer dismisses his effort to connect to his mother in his own right. She asks him to just leave. He offers to wait to connect with her. Then, it comes to the most chilling moment on the scene, the "we have a problem" using his full name, with resentment in every word. She hugs him while crying, kisses him, and then slaps him.

This is rejection. There is a book called "The Five Wounds of the Soul": wich are Rejection, Abandonment, Humiliation, Betrayal, and Injustice. I think Carmy's wound is rejection, for never earning his mother's love, particularly comparing himself to Michael.

Michael took responsibility for the Beef, finally giving their mom a break. It was Michael's job to make sure everyone was having a good time, to compensate for the discomfort that caused being in Donna's presence, to make sure all of them stayed as a family, which was Donna's intention, so Michael thought he had to make that happen for her. Therefore, Michael is the only one of her kids who succeeds and makes her happy. We know Donna rejects Natalie and Carmy. About Natalie, we can write another whole essay.

THE LIE THAT CARMY BELIVES

According to this scene, I think Carmy thinks that her mother didn't love him because he is not Michael; in fact, he is the most "not like Michael" someone could be. He was shy and stuttered and didn't have friends or girlfriends, comparable to Michael's ability to control every room he was in. Carmy was sensible and no macho alfa as Michael presented himself to be. Carmy left home and the family business, and both Michael and Donna expressed that they feel like he thinks he is better than them. Michael admitted later to admiring Carmy's work in Copenhagen, but Donna never did. carmy grew up having to live with the crumbles of Donna's attention that Michael left behind, wondering every day what was so wrong with him that made her reject him, and wondering what he could do to change that.

The lie that Carmy belives, could be sumarize this way:

I need to earn people's love. I need to always go the extra mile, doing the most possible at all times to earn people's love.

This all goes back to his trauma with Michael. It goes back to his career as a chef and how he became the best. He didn't need to succeed on a larger scale in the culinary industry to earn Michael's respect and love; he needed to be the best in the world, so he did that. He judges his own social abilities, comparing them to Miachae's. He left that promising career only because of Michae's death. He got the girlfriend Michael wanted for him (not saying it was the only reason, but it was there).

PART 2: WHAT DOES ALL OF THIS HAD TO DO WITH SYDNEY?

Well, what does a person who feels they always need to do the most? They do the most. I want to bring you back to the moments Carmy had to develop menu ideas with Syd on s1 and s2.

When Syd suggested items for the menu in s1, he gave her an inconclusive, not enthusiastic "maybe."

When she had to actually cook the thing for him to approve, he tried to make her feel small about it. He felt the need to remind her that she was "impatient and green," according to her previous bosses. He commented about her possibly ruining the flow by using time to cook her recipe. Yikes all around, but the core here is that he was treating her like an enemy, like competition, while she was trying to save the restaurant with what they had on hand to use the most efficient solution.

Then, when Carmy tries the dish and feels stunned by it, he has to make an ambiguous excuse on the fly and just finishes every chance of them using the recipe by saying, "is not ready yet"

And what does he do next? He goes to show the crew a recipe that is extremely complicated for the level they are operating at currently—they said so themselves. I think the recipe is a variation of Donna's butter chicken recipe. To put a nail on that coffin of his intentions to earn her love and approval at the end of it all.

But why does he do all this? Because he needs to be the hero, subconsciously, he is still that small kid begging for acceptance and love; he must go the extra mile. He cannot accept Sydney's help and partnership, because that will take away from him earning what he wants on his own merit.

In S2, he seems unenthusiastic about starting the menu in the first place. Then Claire comes along, and he tries to make it work with Syd and the menu, but I think he subconsciously thanks the universe for not having to go to his core wound. That is what self-sabotage is. That is why he bailed on the food tour with Syd, using such a stupid excuse as helping somebody else move out and never mentioning it again. He never asked her what she liked or what ideas she thought of. For most of the creative process, Syd is alone, working on her own creative crisis. The menu ends up being like two recipes they made in collaboration and then all of his family's traditional recipes. It is two of Syd's recipes and the rest of Carmy's. Then, desserts Marcus did on his own. The collaboration was superficial at best.

All of this creates the core theme of the show. The Bear was once a chaotic place (like their childhood home) that needs to evolve into an efficient, peaceful place built on love, support, and mutual collaboration like a functional family should be. Sydney is the member of this found family that forces Carmy to confront his core wound and learn he can actually be good enough while still accepting help. Therapy probably will play an important part in this theme, alongside with Carmy learning there was nothing wrong with him in the first place, that earning your parent's love is not something a kid can do.

Thankyou for reading. Gif and images are not mine.

[penelopepine]

Elephant in the Room Pt. 4

Part 3 Part 4

Summary: John and you hooked up after a night at the bar. You two after that never saw each other again. At least until 12 years later when Price discovers that 9 months after your time together you had given birth to not one baby, but two. Word Count: 2309

Price continues to avoid you even after getting back to base. That seems to be what you want right now as well if the glare you shoot his way when he attempts to carry a few of the bags inside was anything to go by. With that in mind he swiftly made his retreat; leaving the rest of the team to help the two of you get settled while he excused himself on account of needing to do some paperwork.

His mind was racing far too much for him to truly focus on that though. Price tries to stay away, but after a few hours he can't help but find himself at your door once more today. Things like this do require space, but they also need to be discussed as soon as possible lest resentment and anger continue to grow. Ghost's words from earlier echoing in his mind. 

He knocks firmly on the door, and waits to see if you'll open the door, and surprisingly you do. You don't seem surprised to see him either. The two of you stand there in silence for what feels like hours before your moving, and gesturing for him to come inside. 

The silence continues even after the door shuts and you lead him to the living room. Price sits across from you, and only then does he finally speak, "I know the things that have been happening are my fault, and I'm- I'm sorry. I am going to fix things though. The only thing I'm begging of you is that I get a chance to talk to Amelia and Andrew." 

“No, no this isn’t your fault John. I shouldn’t have implied that I thought it was earlier. It’s just- everything is happening so fast; I mean just a few days ago everything was perfectly normal, and now it feels like I’m in an unending nightmare.” You explain to him before taking a calming breath, “Would you … like to talk to Amelia tomorrow? She was asking about you earlier, and I admittedly didn’t have any answers for her” 

“May I ask how much they do know about me; about us?” 

It's here where he sees a wave of sadness hit you. "They know just about as much as I do. I told them your name, that you were a lieutenant when I met you, and that you were kind. They also know that we weren't any official. Would be a bit hard to lie about not knowing your last name if I said we were."

Price softly whispers your name before continuing, "I shouldn't have left like I did, love. You didn't deserve that. Maybe things would be different now if I did."

"I tried to find you John, I wanted things to be different." 

"There was only so much you could have done. Heaven knows there are hundreds of 'Johns' in the military." He pauses here thinking about the conversations he's had with you today, "I still haven't properly introduced myself to you."

You let go of a soft laugh at his words. This might be the first time seeing any sort of happiness on your face since meeting you again. "Well go on then! I'd love to finally know my children's father's name." 

"John Price, and it's captain now."

"Captain John Price." You look at him with a soft smile, "it suits you." 

He likes the way you say his name. It only makes him wish he could have told you it all those years ago. You both sit in comfortable silence for a moment before he asks, "Were you serious about letting me talk to Amelia tomorrow?"

"Maybe- maybe you could come by for lunch; talk to her then." 

"I'd like that." He answers you with a gentle tone. "What is she like; what is Andrew like?"

Your eyes are soft and smile sweet as you reply to him, "Amelia … She's a good kid; smart too, but a little spitfire that one. I don't think that girl has ever been afraid of confrontation. Very blunt, I'll warn you now about that. I'd prepare yourself for some hard questions from her."

"Good to know," Price nods at the information you've shared. He can only imagine right now what a kid who's meeting their father for the first time in 12yrs could ask. "And Andrew?"

"Football is life is a phrase I'm pretty sure he actually lives by with how much I've heard him say it." You lightly chuckle at your words, and wipe a fallen tear from your cheeks before continuing, "He's a sweet boy though; always wanting to include others in whatever he does." 

"They sound like great kids." He pauses for only a moment, "You're a good mum." 

Your eyes snap up to meet him when you hear this with surprise shining through your face. "Thank you," your voice cracks out.

Price takes a moment of silence before speaking again, "It's late and I don't want to keep you up any longer, love."

You walk him to the door, and before you shut it you whisper, "I'll see you tomorrow."

"Tomorrow." Hell or high water he'll be here tomorrow. He won't let you down again.

-

It's the next morning and only a few hours until his first conversation with his daughter when Laswell decides to make a sudden appearance in his office. “John.” 

“Laswell,” He addresses her, “what you got for me?”

She steps up to his desk and immediately hands him a folder, “Information about who took Andrew.” 

Instantly opening up the folder Price sees the name of the same group who had managed to take him captive for a few hours months ago. He had always thought that the interrogation had been odd. They didn’t ask for any information, any codes, or any future plans the team had. Instead they had swabbed his mouth, and left him alone for most of his time there. 

Looking back on it now though their intentions are becoming more clear. They didn’t want to simply torture information out him; they wanted to take something seemingly much more important to him. This was in the plans for much longer than he realized. 

Flipping through the other pages he sees a printed scene shot of a DNA test website. It shows a profile with his name being listed as father above Andrews’. That's how they found Andrew it seems; by a stupid online genetic test. 

"Where are we now on getting him back?"

"We have a basic location on their base of operation as of now. Be prepared to be sent out on a moment's notice; even for today. We're getting this kid back as soon as we can."

"I can agree with you on that. Has anything else been sent to us since the video?"

Laswell shakes her head at him, "Nothing as of yet. Which we should take as a good thing. Hopefully that means Andrew has been left alone for the most part."

"We can only hope."

She takes a step closer to him, and gives his shoulder a quick squeeze, "We're going to get him back, John.” With a slight pause she continues, “What about the girls; how have things been with them?” 

“Well I’ve been allowed to have a conversation with Amelia today so things are doing good, all things considered.” 

“Yeah? Are you ready for that?”

“Laswell.” 

“Yes, John?”

“How do you talk to 12 year old girls?” 

Laswell gives a small chuckle at Price’s question, “Don’t treat her like a soldier for one, and two … I’d just be honest about whatever questions she might have. She probably already feels like her life has been turned upside down. The last thing she wants right now is to be treated like she can’t handle knowing the truth.” 

“So just be honest about everything?” 

“Well she is 12 so there are going to be things you’ll probably want to explain in a more age appropriate way, but 12 year olds aren’t babies; they can handle having a serious conversation.” 

“And what if she’s angry?” Price can’t help but ask. Of all things, that is the one that he’s not sure how to properly react to or handle that.

Laswell merely sighs at him, “She’s going to be angry. You just need to stay calm, actively listen to what she says, and don’t take everything she says out of anger to heart. Especially with how crazy her life is right now.” 

He doesn’t say anything else right away; thinking about what Laswell had just said to him. As always she’s right; Amelia is most likely going to be angry. He knows if he was in her position he would be. “Thank you Laswell.” 

“No problem John.” She then turns around and walks out of the office.

Once alone he takes out the photo he had taken from the first folder Laswell had given him; the one that showed all three of you smiling together. Price thinks about how once he gets Andrew back he'll make sure all of you can be together like that again. 

-

It was noon right on the dot when Price stepped inside your house once more. The first thing he noticed was how delicious it smelt inside. It really made him think for a moment about how long it’s been since he’s had a meal that wasn’t from the base cafeteria. 

You both exchange slightly awkward greetings with one another before you lead him into the dinning room where Amelia is already sitting at the table; a notepad sits in front of her. Price stops in the arch way as he watches you walk over to her, and give her shoulder a squeeze. 

“Lunch is almost ready; it’ll just be a few more minutes.” You move your head between Amelia and him, “While I’m finishing up you two can have a talk. Amelia, come get me if you need to.” You say before nervously exiting the room.

With you gone now it just leaves Price and Amelia alone to have what he can already tell is going to be a hard conversation. He makes his way further into the room and sits across from her with a hand extended, “Hello, Amelia. I’m John; John Price.” 

He watches as his daughter takes a calming breath as she extends her hand to shake his as well, “Hello, … John.” 

She sounds unsure saying his name which he can understand. Price didn’t come in here expecting her to call him any sort of partial name; that is something he hopes later on she’ll be comfortable giving him. That time is not now though, now is the time to build trust. 

“I heard you had some questions for me, and I promise to do my best to answer them for you,” He slightly motions towards the notepad. 

At the mention of questions Amelia seems to immediately perk up; even flipping her notepad open to reveal several lines of text. Price unfortunately couldn’t read it from this distance. It seems all nervousness from her has been thrown out the window though. 

The first few questions were basic get to know you questions. Things like age, birthday, and where did he grow up. Price noted how this felt more like an interrogation rather than a talk which actually eased his nerves a bit; she strangely reminded him of Laswell at this moment. 

Those kind of questions could only last for so long though before you started asking about things currently going on. “Have there been any updates about Andrew?” 

“We’re hoping to retrieve him any day now.” Price hesitantly answers; unsure of how much he should really be discussing with her. “You’ll get your brother back soon.” 

“And afterwards?”

“Hmm?”

"So like … what's going to happen afterwards then? You keep saying you're going to get Andrew back, but what about after that?" Amelia questions him, "Are you just going to save the day and all these years without you don't matter anymore because of that, or are things going to go back to when we never knew you?"

“Amelia!” Your voice rings out from the other side of the room. 

Price doesn’t know how, but you had managed to come into the room with him noticing. He puts a calming hand up to you, and softly says your name before continuing, “No, it’s ok it’s a valid question to ask,and the answer truthfully is that I don’t know what is going to happen afterwards. That is something your mum and I have yet to discuss.”

"What do you want to happen?" You are now sitting next to Amelia with a comforting hand on hers.

"I- I don't know." She says as her head hangs low and picks at her nails.

"That's ok; You don't have to know." You stand up and gently help Amelia out of her chair, "Why don't you come and help me bring out the dishes?" 

Price watches as you both leave; knowing that you wanted to have a private conversation without him present. It only takes a few minutes for you both to return, Amelia mood seems to have risen based on the easy smile on her face. 

The conversation that follows is stilled in the beginning, but quickly becomes livelier as Amelia talks about her friends and upcoming school year. Everything for just a moment feels calm, but of course nothing can last forever. 

A loud rapid knocking sound rings through the house; stopping any conversations in an instant. Price is the first one to stand and walk towards the door. He knows that whoever is on the other side is most likely looking for him anyway. 

“Captain.” Gaz stands before him, a serious look on his face. “Laswell needs us in the debriefing room. It’s time to get your boy.” 

Taglist: @zarsghost @lulurubberduckie @mafer383 @7thsthings @sazifer

[everwhovian]

There is something so tragic about the sibling bond In-ho and Jun-ho have

Ever since I got obsessed with Squid Game, their relationship stood out to me, and I'm a sucker for hurt/comfort and family and just imagining In-ho meeting his baby brother for the first time, giving him A KIDNEY and then he has to shoot Jun-ho and it's so tragic!

Anyways. I wrote something. Instead of studying for my exams... enjoy!

(a small glimpse into In-ho and Jun-ho's relationship as Jun-ho grows up)

masterlist | next part

what remains. | Hwang brothers

The room was dark. In-ho stood frozen in the doorway, fingers tightening around the strap of his bag. He reached out, fingers hovering over the switch, but he didn’t flick it on. The only light spilling into the room came from the hallway. In-ho waited. His eyes adjusted to the dim glow flickering through the curtains, casting soft shadows over the crib in the corner. It was smaller than he expected.

In-ho swallowed hard. He’d known about the baby for weeks now, but knowing and seeing weren’t the same. This wasn’t just an idea anymore, some distant concept of a sibling. No, this was real.

He hesitated, still standing perfectly still in the doorway. In-ho could recall the voice of his mother, the disgusting tone when she told him about his father and his now stepmother. Growing up, In-ho had always known that his parents had issues, but seeing the living breathing consequence of those issues… the reason why his parents finalized their divorce…

He shook his head. He banished the voice of his mother, biting his own underlip to keep the traitorous words inside his mind, he didn’t want to repeat those words. The baby was not at fault for his parents’ issues. It was wrong for his mother to blame an innocent child.

He let the trap of his bag slip from his shoulder, slowly placing the bag down on the floor, before he dared taking a step into the room. It was so quiet. He took step after step, hesitantly, his footsteps barely making a sound against the floor. He stopped mere inches away from the crib, his torso bending forward until his arms rested on the wooden railing of the crib. He peered inside.

The baby stirred, his tiny hands curling into fists, his chest rising and falling with quiet, even breaths. In-ho stifled a gasp, taking a deep breath through his nose. He reminded himself that he had known about the baby – this half-brother – but standing here now, watching the rise and fall of a life so new, so fragile, made it real in a way he hasn’t prepared for. This was real. His half-brother was real.

And for the first time in his sixteen years, In-ho wasn’t sure what to do next.

He couldn’t remember what he had expected to feel. Maybe nothing. Maybe resentment, fuelled by his mother’s venomous comments. But instead, there was just… silence. A strange, hollow kind of stillness.

The baby. His half-brother. His father’s child. A stranger, and yet, blood. Something unfamiliar tightened in his chest.

He didn’t know how to be a brother, he’d never thought he’d have to be one. While he focused on the baby’s tiny chest, counting the quiet, even breaths, he wondered if that even mattered.

In-ho glanced at the small dresser next to the crib, recognizing the stuffed toy sitting on it. A tiny smile tugged on the corner of his mouth. It was his stuffed toy. The same well-loved duck In-ho had carried around everywhere when he was a toddler. In-ho had sifted through his desk months ago, when his father first acknowledged the existence of the baby, and had given the duck to his stepmother in lieu of a proper present. Now, the duck sat next to the crib, watching over the baby, as if a part of In-ho had been there all along.

His eyes drifted from the duck to a framed photo and next to it, a neatly embroidered blanket draped over the edge. The stitching was slightly uneven, like someone had done it by hand, but the name was clear enough: Jun-ho.

In-ho swallowed, unsure what he was even doing here, what he was supposed to feel. His hand hovered hesitantly over the crib before, without thinking, he reached down.

Jun-ho was so small, impossibly small. His face soft and peaceful in sleep. In-ho’s fingertips brushed against the warm, delicate skin, and then – tiny fingers curled around his own.

In-ho froze.

Jun-ho’s tiny fingers were warm and oh so small, but still holding on with surprising strength. He didn’t even know who In-ho was. He didn’t know what a brother was, didn’t understand the weight of the world, or the choices that had led to this moment. But none of that mattered. He held on anyway. Without question. Without hesitation.

In-ho swallowed hard, his throat tight. It was a strange thing to be trusted so easily. No one had ever handed him trust before. He had always had to earn it, to fight for it. But here was this tiny, helpless baby, offering it without a second thought. It was terrifying. And it was something else too – something he couldn’t quite name, something that made his chest feel heavy and hollow at the same time.

Jun-ho trusted him. Expected him to be there. And for the first time, In-ho realized just how much that meant. Because if this baby trusted him… maybe, just maybe, he couldn’t let him down.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 〇△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

At first, it was awkward. In-ho didn’t know what to do with the warmth in Jun-ho’s mother’s voice when she spoke to him, with the way she smiled at him like he belonged, like she wanted him there. It wasn’t something he was used to.

His own mother had never been soft. She had been distant, cold in ways that left a quiet, aching gap in his childhood – one that had long since hardened over. He had learned young that comfort was something other people had, that tenderness was a luxury he was never meant to expect.

But Jun-ho’s mother? She was different.

She cared. Really cared.

She never treated him like an outsider, never hesitated to make space for him. She asked if he had eaten, if he was sleeping enough, if he needed anything. She left out an extra plate at dinner without asking if he would stay – because she already knew he would. She called him son in passing, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

And it scared the hell out of him.

Because it was easier to be distant. It was easier to stand just outside the warmth of their family, to tell himself he was only here for… he didn’t even know why he kept coming back to them. He told himself that it was because of Jun-ho, not because some part of him wanted to come back.

But then there were nights when he was dead on his feet, exhausted from school, from work, from everything, and his stepmother would press a warm mug of tea into his hands and tell him, “You’re doing a good job, In-ho.”

And something in him cracked.

Because no one had ever said that to him before. No one had ever looked at him like he deserved to hear it.

He didn’t know how to be her son. He wasn’t sure if he ever could be.

But she was still there. Quietly. Patiently. Loving him in all the ways he had never been loved before.

And maybe, just maybe, he wasn’t as alone as he had always thought.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 〇△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

The first time Jun-ho wobbled on unsteady legs, his tiny hands reaching out for something, someone, to hold onto, it wasn’t their father who caught him. It was In-ho.

It had always been In-ho.

He hadn’t planned for it to happen. It wasn’t like he’d woken up one day and decided to be the one to catch Jun-ho when he fell, to be the hands that steadied him, the voice that soothed him, the constant presence in his world.

Their father had always been good at disappearing, of slipping back into old patterns like a man following a well-worn path. His promises were always soft, always fleeting. I’ll do better this time. I’ll be around more. I won’t let you down. But he slipped through the cracks and made himself absent in a way that felt intentional, like an old habit he never quite shook. Falling back into old habits was easy after all. Stepping up? That had never been who their father was.

So, when Jun-ho took his first steps, it was In-ho who knelt in front of him, arms outstretched, waiting. It was In-ho who cheered when tiny feet stumbled forward, and who caught Jun-ho before he could hit the ground. It was his name that Jun-ho spoke first. The syllables clumsy but clear, unmistakable.

Not ‘Appa.’

Resentment burned in In-ho’s chest, sharp and steady. Because every time their father returned like nothing had changed. But everything had changed.

It was In-ho who caught Jun-ho when he stumbled, who soothed his cries, who stayed. And yet, Jun-ho still looked at their father with hopeful eyes, too young to understand that he would always leave in the end. But In-ho knew. He had learned that lesson long ago. And no matter how much he resented the man who should have been here, he swore that he would never be like him.

It wasn’t fair. None of this was fair.

But Jun-ho didn’t know that. He didn’t know what he was supposed to have, what he was supposed to be missing. All he knew was that when he lifted his arms, In-ho picked him up. When he cried, In-ho answered. When he reached for someone to hold onto, someone to trust… it was always In-ho.

And with every moment, every milestone, the role of ‘older brother’ blurred into something bigger, heavier, something that settled deep in his chest and refused to let go. He wasn’t just a brother anymore. He was something else. Something more. He was the one who made sure Jun-ho never went to bed hungry, the one who stayed up through fevers, who soothed nightmares, who stayed when their father didn’t.

He hadn’t asked for this. But Jun-ho hadn’t asked to be left behind either.

So, In-ho stayed. Because someone had to. Because Jun-ho trusted him. Because the moment he had reached into that crib and felt tiny fingers wrap around his own, there had never really been a choice.

❛ ━━━━━━･❪ 〇△□ ❫ ･━━━━━━ ❜

In-ho built his life on his own. He put himself through university, became a detective, and earned everything with his own hands; his own effort. He never once turned to his absent father for help, never relied on his stepmother’s kindness, even when he knew she would have given it freely. Not because he didn’t appreciate her, but because he still didn’t know how to. He had never relied on a parent before. He had learned young that no one would catch him if he fell, so he made sure he never stumbled.

And he knew it hurt his stepmother. Knew she wished he would lean on her the way Jun-ho did, that he would let her be his mother, too. But the lingering thoughts never left him: “if he accepted her help, wouldn’t that mean he was taking her for granted?”

Wouldn’t that mean he expected her to stay, when he had spent his whole life learning that people didn’t? So, he kept his distance. He loved her in the only way he knew how: by never being a burden. And maybe that hurt her more than anything else.

When In-ho left for university, Jun-ho was only two years old. Small and wide-eyed, his little voice filling the house with endless questions and more often than not, it was In-ho he called for.

Leaving wasn’t easy. Not because he doubted his choice; he had worked too hard to get into university, had spent too long making sure he would never have to rely on their father for anything, but because of Jun-ho. Because every time he packed his bag to go back to school, Jun-ho would waddle after him, grabbing at his pant leg, his voice high and insistent. “Hyung, no go! Stay!”

And it nearly broke him.

He came home as often as he could, squeezing visits in between classes, taking overnight buses just to be there for a few days. It was exhausting, but the moment he stepped through the door and Jun-ho came racing toward him, arms outstretched, eyes shining as he shouted “Hyung!” – it felt worth it. Jun-ho would climb onto his lap, showing off new words he had learned, babbling about his favorite toys, his favorite songs, everything he had stored up to tell him.

But the visits never felt long enough. Before he knew it, he had to leave again. And each time, Jun-ho got a little bigger.

By the time In-ho became a police officer, Jun-ho was six already, just starting school, but still clinging to him whenever he came home. No matter how long he had been gone, no matter how much time passed between visits, Jun-ho’s face always lit up the moment he saw him, like nothing else mattered.

But the visits weren’t as frequent anymore. Work kept him busy, cases ran late, and sometimes, even when he wanted to, he just couldn’t make it home. And that was how, one afternoon, he found himself running late to pick Jun-ho up from school.

By the time he pulled up in his patrol car, the schoolyard was empty. Except for Jun-ho, sitting alone on the steps.

His little backpack rested beside him, too big for his small frame, his legs swinging idly as he watched the street. But he wasn’t upset. He wasn’t crying. He wasn’t even restless. He was just waiting. Waiting for In-ho.

The guilt hit hard. Harder than it should have. He had tried to get here on time. He had rushed. But life, work, had gotten in the way, like it always did. And just for a moment In-ho compared himself to their father.

When he stepped out of the car, Jun-ho’s head lifted immediately, his face breaking into a bright, certain smile.

“Hyung!”

He jumped to his feet, grabbing his bag and running toward him without hesitation. No frustration. No disappointment. Just the absolute trust that, late or not, In-ho would always come.

In-ho crouched as Jun-ho threw his arms around his neck, squeezing tightly, as if he hadn’t just been sitting there alone.

“Sorry I’m late,” he muttered, ruffling Jun-ho’s hair.

“S’okay!” Jun-ho chirped, pulling back just enough to grin at him. “I knew you’d come!”

And that was what got to him. The unwavering belief in his voice, the simple, unshaken certainty that no matter how long he had waited, there had never been a doubt in his mind: his hyung would always come.

Swallowing the guilt, he nodded toward the police car. “Wanna ride in the front?”

Jun-ho’s eyes widened. “Really?”

“Really.”

Jun-ho scrambled in, his excitement bubbling over as he settled into the seat, his feet barely reaching the floor.

As In-ho buckled him in, he made a silent promise to himself. No matter how much time passed, no matter how late he was – he would always come back. Because Jun-ho never doubted him. And he never would.

(edit [10/02/25]: I posted these scenes separately again cause I made a masterlist, and it's easier to organize the scenes chronologically like that. all next parts will be linked through the masterlist!!!)

masterlist | next part

So.... yeah. I apologize for any weird sentences. English isn't my first language, and while I do study English, actually writing non university related stuff in English is something I haven't done in years! Can you believe it?

I definitely have more little scenes and scenarios planned with In-ho and Jun-ho, like In-ho meeting his wife and Jun-ho wanting to become a police officer like In-ho. Just some cute family bonding stuff! And some hurt/comfort cause In-ho does give Jun-ho a kidney....

I think I will cross post this to Ao3 too! When I'm certain that I have every little scene I want for a first chapter: maybe up until In-ho's wife gets sick? And then the second chapter might be about In-ho's games and how he became the frontman.

[thrumbolt]

Top 5 most annoying Tamlin scene misinterpretations

1. ''There is no such thing as a high lady'' I hate this one, because it is always taken as some sort of proof that Tamlin is a raging misogynist who doesn't want an equal woman by his side or some similar type of nonsense. I don't know where this is coming from. Tamlin never wanted to be a high lord. He would probably welcome for someone to take over most of the work so he could just keep running through the woods. He also has absolutely no issues with taking advice from women in power (Ianthe? Hello??). His first reaction to the high lady question is literally this:

“Is everyone just going to call me ‘Tamlin’s wife’? Do I get a … title?” He lifted his head long enough to look at me. “Do you want a title?”

And let's not forget that Feyre's first reply is ''No, I don’t know if I can handle them calling me High Lady”. To which he then answers that she doesn't have to worry about that, since ''there is no such thing as a high lady'' because the magic choses the title and it keeps chosing males. Also this whole scene happens while he eats her out. Not that it's relevant or anything, just saying...

2. ''Tamlin killed Rhys' family'' No. Tamlin's dad killed Rhys' family. I have no idea how Tamlin doing it is ever the takeaway from that whole story. Let's just quote the actual scene:

“Tamlin’s father, brothers, and Tamlin himself set out into the Illyrian wilderness, having heard from Tamlin—from me—where my mother and sister would be, that I had plans to see them. I was supposed to be there. I wasn’t. And they slaughtered my mother and sister anyway.”

Yeah okay, Tamlin gave the information (supposedly) and was there (supposedly) sure, but it's highly unlikely that he was so willingly. Let's not forget that it's established that Tamlin was afraid of his father, that Tamlin's father is worse than Beron (who, I might remind you, tortures his sons) and that Tamlin was friends with Rhys at the time - which neither family approved of. Even Rhys doesn't actually believe Tamlin did anything besides being spineless:

''I didn’t care that Tamlin had been there, had allowed them to kill my mother and sister, that he’d come to kill me because he didn’t want to risk standing against them.''

In the end we don't know the details. Tamlin could've been tortured and tied up or whatever. Making him watch could've been a cruel form of punishment for being friends with Rhys. We don't really know until SJM graces us with Tamlin's side of the story.

3. ''It's really Tamlin's own fault that the spring court fell'' Alternatively also phrased as: 'Feyre just opened everyone's eyes to Tamlin's incompetence' and....honestly? This low key makes me question the reading comprehension of people.

Yes, Tamlin made a deal with Hybern, which was extremely risky, but the war was coming regardless (as we learn from Rhys in the first half of ACOMAF) and the spring court would be the main target because of its location next to the wall. Inviting Hybern into his lands in a trade is actually a pretty smart way to avoid a lot of death on Tamlin's part - plus he needed help to rescue Feyre and get her out of the deal she had with Rhysand (people forget that Tamlin didn't know Feyre didn't actually need rescuing from the guy that was abusing her in front of him in ACOTAR).

So yeah anyway, Feyre did several things to make the spring court fall: 1. She manipulated the solstice ceremony to make herself seem cauldron-blessed in the eyes of the people, 2. She made a sentry accuse Ianthe (who WAS doing sneaky shit) which essentially did nothing except putting Tamlin on the spot in front of Hybern, so he was kind of forced to throw the sentry under the bus. Good job Feyre, you got a poor sod whipped! But it also built resentment within the soldiers, which was her plan all along and 3. before leaving, she did this (let's just quote the whole thing):

''I had a people who had lost faith in their High Priestess. I had sentries who were beginning to rebel against their High Lord. And as a result of those things, I had Hybern royals doubting the strength of their allies here. I’d primed this court to fall. Not from outside forces—but its own internal warring. And I had to be clear of it before it happened. Before the last sliver of my plan fell into place. The party would return without me. And to maintain that illusion of strength, Tamlin and Ianthe would lie about it—where I’d gone. And perhaps a day or two after that, one of these sentries would reveal the news, a carefully sprung trap that I’d coiled into his mind like one of my snares. I’d fled for my life—after being nearly killed by the Hybern prince and princess. I’d planted images in his head of my brutalized body, the markings consistent with what Dagdan and Brannagh had already revealed to be their style. He’d describe them in detail—describe how he helped me get away before it was too late. How I ran for my life when Tamlin and Ianthe refused to intervene, to risk their alliance with Hybern. And when the sentry revealed the truth, no longer able to stomach keeping quiet when he saw how my sorry fate was concealed by Tamlin and Ianthe, just as Tamlin had sided with Ianthe the day he’d flogged that sentry …When he described what Hybern had done to me, their Cursebreaker, their newly anointed Cauldron-blessed, before I’d fled for my life … There would be no further alliance. For there would be no sentry or denizen of this court who would stand with Tamlin or Ianthe after this. After me.''

So, the sentries left Tamlin because of a lie. A fake story. Without sentries, Hybern decided to take over rather than just be guests and had a prime spot to attack the summer court in turn. Which is also why Tarquin is extremely pissed at Feyre - not Tamlin. So no, Tamlin wasn't a bad high lord. His only real mistake was ever trusting Feyre.

Sure, some argue that Feyre thought Tamlin genuinely sided with Hybern and might be a threat to the rest of Prythian, so taking him down would make sense for her even outside of petty revenge. But there's just one problem with that: Feyre is a mind reader. She could have just.....checked. lol

4. ''Tamlin didn't do anything Under the Mountain'' This one really gets my goat because it's not really true? Things Tamlin did to help Feyre: 1. He sent her away to the human realm. (People forget this, but he basically doomed his court to protect her ass - it's not his fault she came back!) 2. He made Lucien check up on her. (Yes Lucien was Feyre's friend but he still acted under Tamlin's orders!) 3. He ignored Feyre as to not rile Amarantha up even more (Come on, have you seen Amarantha? It totally makes sense) 4. He tries to get to Feyre, begging Amarantha to stop even as he is tied up, bleeding out from a stab wound to his chest that he can't heal because he has no powers - like what do you want him to do??? 4. He literally kills Amarantha the second he is able to

Also personal conspiracy detour: That music that Rhysand supposedly sent to Feyre was SO originally supposed to be Tamlin, you can't convince me otherwise. I will never not believe that this wasn't just a lazily done quick change when SJM rewrote book 1 and 2 to account for the boyfriend switcheroo. Attributing the music to Rhys makes absolutely zero sense. He's not a musical boy at all, come on! Music themes never come up with him again either! Meanwhile Tamlin played for Feyre before, is generally a musical guy COME ON! /conspiracy detour over

5. ''It's Tamlin's fault that Nesta and Elaine got turned to fae'' No. No it's not. He knew nothing about this. Ianthe did this on her own accord because Feyre told her where her sister's lived. Tamlin actually attacks (!) the King of Hybern over it (to no avail, but still).

Some people blame Tamlin for keeping Ianthe around afterwards, despite of what she did. Those people I want to refer to point number 3 in this list. Ianthe was working with Hybern. Tamlin tried to be buddies with Hybern for reasons. No, he can't just throw out Ianthe.

[xechu]

From Worst to Hell (Pt. 1)

cw: suggestive themes, 18+ mdni, please read my blog rules before interacting, sexual themes, swearing, use of weed and implied driving under the influence (drive responsibly).

wc: 1.9K

summary: you call your ex-boyfriend in a drunk and sobbing state. What's the worst that can happen?

a/n: this is part of my au 'Cross My Heart' - check out the master list here! I had so much fun writing this. Thank you for reading. x

If the dictionary had the word 'world's-biggest-clown' in it, accompanied with a reference picture, Sukuna had no doubt that it would be his own face plastered on it. Because why in god's name was he laying beside Yorozu in this very moment? Naked bodies and limbs entangled, thick, heady musk lingering in the air, and high out of his goddamn mind.

What he really should have been doing—or should have already done—was grovel at your feet, begging for forgiveness, and giving you the best fuck to show you how sorry he was, and how much he still loves you. He should have done something—anything—when he found his belongings packed up in a box three weeks ago. But, no, it was always his pride and ego—always his insecurities that got in the way, that kept him from admitting he was wrong, that stopped him from apologizing. Sukuna had always known that he was his own worst enemy.

For someone as much of a screwup as he was, the universe had still managed to serve him all the good things in life on a silver platter: a good brother, an understanding sister-in-law, a cute nephew who he practically treats as his own son, a successful business, and you—the woman of his dreams. And yet, he managed to completely fumble it.

As he laid there in self-loathing, a phone call suddenly jolts him to his senses, and when he sees your name on the caller ID, he springs up the bed. He answers, heart racing in anticipation, and then to his shock, you were a sobbing incoherent mess on the other end. The sound of your distress immediately sobered him up.

"Shit, Y/N, what happened?"

"I'm—hic—I don't—I just—hic—wanna go home."

"Fucking Christ," Sukuna muttered, rubbing his face with his hand, "Are you hurt?"

"N-no—hic"

"Good," he lets out a breath of relief. "Can you send me your location?"

He glances at his phone as it buzzes, Y/N wants to share her location with you.

"Alright, sweetheart. I'm coming."

"What happened?" Yorozu's voice rasped, as she leaned in on Sukuna. Her breasts pressing up to his arm.

"I have to go," he shrugged her off as he climbed out of her bed.

"Why? I thought you broke up with her," she shot back, resentment lacing her voice.

"She broke up with me, and for a good reason. But I can't leave her like this." Sukuna clarified, as he zipped up his jeans and threw on his black t-shirt. The scar on his abdomen from the knife wound still tickled as his shirt grazes over it—a constant reminder of why and how things became the current shitshow it was.

"Are you coming back?"

"No," he said firmly, jaw tightening, "No more of this, Yor. This will be the last time."

"You're fucking joking, right?" Her tone was incredulous.

"I'm not. Whatever happened between us tonight, it won't happen again."

"What the hell, Ryo?" Yorozu hissed, "What do you take me for? Just some whore you could come for a good fuck and leave?"

"You and I both got what we wanted out of this. Enough is enough."

"Really? You'd drop me, and our years of friendship just for some other girl?"

"She's not just some other girl," he snapped, his eyes shooting her a warning glare. But to be honest, the fact that Yorozu even saw you in this light in the first place was entirely Sukuna's fault, and he knew it. He hated how he allowed his circle to view you as such, and it was because he never gave you the respect you deserved.

Yorozu rolled her eyes, as she stood up, "I know how much you loved her, but she just isn't good for you," she drew circles around Sukuna's arm, a last ditch effort to appeal to him.

"She can't appreciate the things you've done for her. And worst of all, she's trying to mold you into this person you're not! What are you, her personal fix-me-up project?"

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"I'm saying that you've changed, Ryo. She's turning you into someone you're not."

"She was right about you," Sukuna lowly chuckled, as he shrugs away from Yorozu's touch, "I tried to vouch for you, give you the benefit of the doubt because of our history, but I should have cut you off a long time ago."

"I knew she was talking shit about me!" Yorozu's features darken, and her body trembled with anger, "What kind of bullshit has she been feeding you?"

"She hardly talks about you," he shrugged, impatience creeping into his voice, "Look, I have to go."

"You're a scum, Ryomen. You need to get your head out of your own ass."

"Tell me something I don't know," he scoffed, as he took his car keys and left the apartment.

Sukuna shoots you a text: I'll be here in 10. Don't talk to anyone, don't go anywhere.

---

You stood in front of the bar, arms crossed against the chill of the night. Your face was stained with dried tears and mascara streaks. You were a hopeless disaster, even then, 'hopeless disaster' was a gross understatement.

In your head, you knew you were far gone, but it seemed your body had a mind of its own, swaying slightly as you struggled to keep your balance. Why did you call him? You were doing so damn well, and you felt so good about being the one to end things this time, so why on earth were you crawling back to him like some pathetic, needy, little girl? When did you become so weak? This is why he thinks he could walk all over you.

As you mentally berated yourself, you contemplated on if you should just call an Uber home. But before you had time to change your mind, you see your ex-boyfriend's car pull up. Of course, it had to be his flashy one too: a black Lamborghini Urus.

"Hey," he murmured, quickly climbing out of his car and catching you before you lost balance.

"I wanna go home," you slurred, pushing him away and stumbling over your own heels.

"You can't even walk straight, what are you doing?" He let out an exasperated sigh, as he watched you struggle towards the car.

Before you could make an even bigger fool of yourself, he scooped you up, princess-style, and plopped you into the passenger seat. He didn't want to be taking you to the hospital tonight, though it would have been somewhat of an amusing twist of irony.

"Why were you drinking by yourself?" He asked, slipping into the driver’s seat and buckling your seatbelt. It was a stupid question, he knew why, but that’s how desperately he wanted to just talk to you again.

"B-because, you're a fucking dick." It was hard to take you seriously when you were a slurring mess.

"Right, and that's why you called me?" he quipped.

"I know, okay?!" You yelled, frustration overflowing, "Everyone's been telling me to just get over it, and that you're an asshole!"

"Are you sure they said that about me?"

"A thousand-hundred...ten-percent."

"Hm, okay."

Sukuna sat there, his arm resting on the steering wheel and his head leaning in his hand, listening to your slurred ramblings. Even with your mascara-stained face, why were you so beautiful?

"I'm so...pathetic. To love someone who never l-loved me!"

"That's not true," he scowled, "You know I lo—"

"There you go again!" You said in a mocking tone, "Telling me what is and isn't! You're just so clever, Ryo! And I'm just some helpless idiot!"

"I never thought you were an idiot," Sukuna muttered.

Despite the sheer chaos of the current situation, he couldn't help but feel a tinge of relief and happiness that you were here. The fact that you still thought to call him when you needed help filled him with an unexpected warmth. He was convinced that three weeks ago was the last time he'd ever see you.

"You can have the last laugh like you always do! Ha ha ha." You threw your arms up in exasperation, nearly smacking him in the face and garnering a small 'tch' from him. But he was willing to take in any form of abuse from you right now, after all, he deserved it.

"We're going home. I forget how much of a brat you are when you're drunk," he said, as he started the car.

"My home, I kicked you out," you giggled, seemingly a little too happy about that.

"Sure thing, sweetheart."

Almost immediately, an awkward silence filled the car. He glanced over at you, only to find you staring straight ahead, large globs of tears rolling down your cheeks. His eyebrows furrow in confusion, not sure what to make of your drunk erratic behavior.

"Y-you don’t get to call me that anymore!" You started bawling uncontrollably.

Sukuna pinched the bridge of his nose, it didn’t help that as of half an hour ago he was still high out of his mind, and in another woman's bed (which he was still mentally kicking himself over). Sighing, he decided it was better to stay quiet, flipping on the music in the car—the tunes of Arctic Monkeys quietly playing in the background.

Though you only lived about fifteen minutes away, it was going to be a long drive home.

---

Thankfully, the two of you had made it back safely to the underground parking lot of your apartment. It had taken every fiber of Sukuna's being to stay focused on the road, and resisting the urge to fill the silence with comments that could potentially throw you into a crying frenzy again.

He glanced over at you as he parks the car, somewhat bracing himself for another emotional outburst, but you seemed quietly distant, lost in your own thoughts. He ran his hand through his hair, a sinking feeling that tonight was going to be a long night. With a resigned sigh, he climbed out of his side of the car and walked over to your door, opening it for you.

"My feet hurt," you frowned, as you flung off your Kate red bottoms, "the shoes you bought me suck."

"Yeah, yeah, just tell me you want to get carried," he scooped you up effortlessly, while hooking your heels on his two fingers that were free, "and you're the one who wanted them, in case you forgot."

"They looked so nice on Zendaya," you murmured, as your head rested against his chest.

"Mhm." He had no clue who Zendaya was, he doesn't keep up with pop culture.

"Keys," he said, glancing down at you as you seemed to drift off to sleep, looking far too comfortable in his arms. Like you belonged there.

"In my bag," you mumbled.

"Grab it?"

"You're so annoying," you huffed, reaching into your purse and fishing out your keys. He tapped with his index finger, gesturing you to hook the keyring around it.

As Sukuna waited for the elevator, carrying you in his arms, he stared at the LED screen of the descending floor numbers. The numbers seemed to pull him into a trance, recalling unwanted memories—how he had hurt you, the brash and callous things he said just to be hurtful. Each digit felt like a ticking reminder of how he was so weak-willed, crawling into the arms of another woman just three weeks later. When suddenly—

"Ryo," you said his name with such unexpected clarity, it made his heart race. It felt as if all was forgiven, and he just woke up from a nightmare. The break-up wasn't real, the hospital wasn't real, sleeping with Yorozu wasn't real.

"Hm?" He tried to hide his anticipation.

"I need to throw up."

"Oh, hell no—"

Writing © xechu - please do not redistribute, translate, or repost any of my works.

[ddejavvu]

MEIII!!!! Hope you had a good day!!!!

I was thinking 🤔🤔🤔 an ex gf of Hotch comes to work w the BAU & they hadn’t told anyone abt it but the Bau girls help R unpack find photo albums old pictures of her and their boss (hot)

You had intended to be more careful when letting your new teammates dig through boxes in your apartment, but they had each brought over bottles of wine as housewarming gifts, and the first thing you'd come across were your glasses. So now that there's a healthy buzz over your brain, making it just a little bit hard to focus, you don't notice Penelope reaching into the box that says memories.

She squeals at a baby picture of you, an album full of your childhood memories in her hands. You think nothing of it, still slightly intoxicated to where you don't forsee the next album she'll pick up. Emily and JJ flock to her side, crooning and cooing over your past self, but when they shut the album and reach for the next, and your brain finally switches on, you're not fast enough to stop them.

"Woah, that guy- holy shit," Emily laughs, her own mind clouded as she points sloppily at the man kissing your cheek in the first photo, "That guy looks like Hotch."

JJ snorts, but Penelope falls silent.

Of course, you think, of course she's seen pictures of when he was younger. You'd expect nothing less from the BAU's resident snoop.

"That is Hotch," She breathes, alcohol be damned as she puts the puzzle pieces together, "Oh my god, you dated Hotch!"

"Oh," Emily laughs, eyes wide and giddy and dazed, "You dated Hotch!"

"I- I didn't date Hotch," You huff exasperatedly, wine forgotten on the counter, "I dated a man from law school. He was not the same person."

"You mean this was before someone shoved a stick up his ass?" JJ eyes you incredulously, "I thought it was placed there at birth."

"He doesn't have a stick up his ass!" You feel the inexplicable urge to defend your boss, despite him having left you reeling in college, "He's- he's got issues. Stuff you don't even know about. Everyone does, we've all- we've all got issues."

"What happened?" Penelope asks, her voice soft and worried, "He didn't cheat on you, did he?"

"No!" You let out a huffy laugh, "No, he didn't cheat on me. We just parted ways because- well, our schedules were tight. We never saw each other, when I had a day off he was working, and vice versa. He wanted someone with a more adjustable schedule."

"That's not fair," Penelope's eyes glaze over with tears, that you're sure are only partially from the wine she's consumed, "That's not fair, to stop loving someone because they're busy. He was busy too, what- why were you the problem?"

"It wasn't like that," You gush, but it was entirely like that, "Listen, we were both stressed all the time. I don't know if you've ever tried to be lawyers, but it sucks. And- and we never saw each other, and we were young, and stupid, and we hated our jobs but we couldn't quit, and- and it was a mess! And I'm glad," You peter off your emotional speech with a soft whimper, "I'm glad he found someone who had the time to love him. Because both of us deserved that, just-" You sniffle, your eyes stinging with tears, "Only one of us got it."

"Oh, honey," JJ laments, reaching for you with both hands now that her wine glass is set aside. You dodge her hands, though, excusing yourself with a shitty excuse and a hurried walk to the bathroom.

There's no tissues. Of course there's no tissues, you haven't had a moment to live in this apartment since you'd set foot in it. Work was always getting in the way, like it had for your entire life.

You're not angry at Aaron for leaving you. You weren't a good fit for each other, not with your careers taking off as they were. In all honesty, you might have broken up with him yourself if it had gone on any longer. But you're jealous in a way, that he found someone who had the time for him while you didn't. And that's not his fault, you shouldn't be resentful that he found love just because you didn't. Your feelings for him comes from loneliness, not anger. But they read the same, and you're sure your new teammates think you're silently raging at your new unit chief.

After a quick wash of your face in the sink and a makeshift toilet paper tissue, you step back out into the living room, three pairs of eyes trained immediately on you.

"I appreciate that you're taking my side here," You hum, a knot in your throat the size of a fist, "But it's a closed matter. We haven't spoken in years, and I feel like we still haven't. He's different now, he's not the man I dated, and I would like it if you would be able to forget that this happened."

Emily is the first to speak up, "Okay. Okay, honey, we understand. But- but please don't ignore your feelings if they're starting to resurface. At the very least, you deserve closure."

"And hey," JJ smiles, trying to look eager but looking mostly sad, "If you wanna give things another shot, he's single and you work with him. At least all the time you spend working now is with him, too."

"Yeah," You let out a light chuckle, still bogged down by the ghost of the tears you'd wiped away in the bathroom. Penelope can't take it anymore, and rushes in for a squeeze.

"Oh, sweetheart," She gushes, "It'll work out! I bet you're gonna have this crazy-sweet second chance romance kind of thing, and we'll all be at your wedding!"

"Slow down," You laugh, thankful that you have her shoulder to snuggle into, "We haven't even acknowledged that we used to date yet. Let's wait until the proposal to start talking about the wedding."

A good-natured laugh is shared throughout your small apartment, and the photo album is set back in its box for safekeeping. They give you the courtesy of unpacking it yourself, just in case any stray memories come to haunt you. You're grateful for it, and it's easy to slip back into your wine-fueled giggle fest while working on your bookshelf instead.

--

Mere miles away, Aaron is sitting on the floor of his bedroom. There's a photo album in his lap, one half of a pair, the other half of which he hopes isn't in a landfill somewhere. His eyes are trained on a photo you'd taken on winter break from your sophomore year of school, skis strapped to your feet and poles in your hands as Aaron hugged you from behind. You'd done the Titanic pose on the side of the ski hill, your arms outstretched and Aaron's face twisted over your shoulder to gaze endearingly at you. It's a blurry photo, because your friends had taken it from the bottom of the slope, but the memories of it are crisp in his head.

He hears the patter of little feet down the hallway, and doesn't have the energy to close the book before Jack sees it.

"Daddy?" His son's little voice asks, "Who's that?"

"Do you recognize," He hums, flipping to a clearer picture of the two of you, and pointing to himself, "Him?"

Jack's face scrunches, nose wrinkled and eyes squinted, "Is that you, daddy?"

"It is me," Aaron chuckles, "I looked younger, huh?"

"Yeah," Jack nods emphatically, poking at his dad's cheeks, 'Now you have wrinkles."

Aaron scoffs, "Thanks, bud. What'cha need?"

"I'm just bored," Jack huffs, looking back at the picture displayed in the book, "That's not Mommy. Why are you kissing her?"

"I met her before I met your mommy," Aaron hums, ghosting his pointer finger over the page, "But we broke up. Then your mommy and I got married."

"Why did you break up?" Jack cocks his head to the side, "You didn't love her as much as Mommy?"

"I loved her," Aaron muses, "But we both had really busy jobs. And we never saw each other, so it made us sad. So we broke up so that we wouldn't be so sad anymore."

"Oh." Jack frowns, "Okay. I'm sorry you were sad."

"It's okay, buddy," Aaron slings an arm around Jack's side, kissing his chubby cheek, "I'm not sad anymore. Well- sort of. Do you know why I'm looking at these pictures?"

Jack shakes his head, "Mm-mm. Why?"

"She joined my team," Aaron informs his son, watching the gears in his brain turn. "So I'm a little bit sad now, because seeing her makes me remember how sad I was when we broke up."

"But," Jack drags out the vowel, "If she's on your team now, then you see her all the time! And you were sad because you didn't get to see her, but now you can be happy again!"

"That's- uh, kind of." Aaron shuts the book, turning to face Jack fully, "I think I might be a little bit sad forever about us breaking up."

"Forever," Jack frowns, relying heavily on the fact that he's been told he'll never be sad forever, "Why?"

"Because we can't fix it." Aaron sighs, "We can't go back in time and stay together."

"But you can date her now," Jack prods, and wow, Aaron needs to give him more credit, "Why do you have to be sad forever?"

"You'd be okay with me dating someone else?" Aaron asks carefully, "Someone who isn't your Mommy?"

"It it makes you happy again," Jack nods, "I don't want you to be sad forever, Daddy."

Aaron's struck with tears that he tries to tamp down. His nose runs, and he sniffles shakily, "Thank you, bud. You're sweet, you know that?"

"Mm-hm," Jack nods, "Penny tells me."

"Yes she does," Aaron laughs, a watery sound as he pulls Jack in for a hug, "Every time she makes you cookies, she tells you you're sweeter. You should know by now."

"So," Jack gets right to the point, "Are you gonna date her again, Daddy?"

"I don't know," Aaron hums, "Maybe. I have to ask her, first. And I don't think I should ask her right away."

"You should share your lunch with her," Jack instructs, "I gave Ellie one of my oreos at lunch, and now she's my girlfriend."

Aaron's brows raise, "Wow. Do you like having a girlfriend?"

"Yeah." Jack nods simply, "She's nice to me. We take turns pushing each other on the swings."

"Well, maybe we'll both have girlfriends soon," Aaron grins at his son, "Do you think we should go out on a double date? Like, we both take our girlfriends out to eat together?"

"Yeah!" Jack shouts, enthused by the idea, "We should go to get ice cream, though. Ellie really likes chocolate."

"Okay," Aaron chuckles, letting Jack wander off to pick through his toy box, renewed hope in his chest at the thought of sitting side-by-side with you in an ice cream parlor, "Sounds like a plan, bud!"

[xmads-omensx]

Word Count: 1,639

Pairing: Best friend! Noah Sebastian X Reader

Content Warnings: swearing, arguments, Noah is bad at feelings and so is Y/N

Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp

Thanks @alwaysfightforwhoyouare for the idea, and sorry it took me so long to actually write since we were talking about this before New Years lmao.

Extra inspo:

NOAH POV

She was beautiful.

I found myself stealing glances at her whenever I could. It was impossible not to. Even when I didn’t intend to, my eyes always found her.

No matter what room I walked into, I always sought her out.

Her laugher. Her smile. Her eyes. Her.

Y/N had been my best friend, besides Nicholas of course, for as long as I could remember. Granted, we only met when we had moved to California, but we clicked instantly.

Two peas in a pod. Partners in crime. Ride or die.

That was us.

But I was desperate for more.

I wanted to hold her hand. Hold her. Kiss her. Tell I loved her. Take her to bed. Be with her.

But it could never happen. She had a boyfriend and I was just her best friend. She would never see me as anything more than that.

I buried those feelings as deep as I possibly could. I dated and saw other people as often as I could to try and move on, but nothing worked. No matter who I went out with, my mind was always stuck on Y/N.

Every time I saw her with Chris, my heart broke a little bit more. I knew this was unfair, since she had no idea how I felt about her and it wasn’t her fault she was happy with someone else, but part of me resented her for being happy with someone else.

What could he give her that I couldn’t?

I knew every single detail about her. I could even tell you how many freckles decorated her face if you asked me to.

But it wasn’t enough.

She had him, and I had Bad Omens.

“Y/N and Chris are fighting again.” Matt sighed, taking his seat in the studio.

They had been fighting a lot recently. He had been going out more often with his friends, leaving Y/N at home. She hated being alone.

“Same thing again?” Jolly asked.

“Yep.” Matt sighed again.

Silence encased the studio. None of us particularly liked Chris, some for more selfish reasons than others, but none of us wanted to stop Y/N from being happy.

“I’ve got some lyrics that I’ve been working on.” I spoke up, breaking the silence.

“Can we have a look?” Jolly asked, so I handed him my highly precious notebook that I used for songwriting.

His eyes darted over the pages. if he knew what the song was about, he didn’t let on anything.

“This is good shit, Noah.” He said, smiling genuinely.

I had been working on the song for a while now, but I never had the courage to show anyone else the song yet.

It was by far my favourite song that I had ever written.

“Do you think it would be okay for the new record?” I asked, chewing the skin on my thumb anxiously.

“I think it’s perfect for the new record dude.” Jolly said, grinning widely.

“Great.” I said with a sigh of relief.

We spent most of the day recording the new song, working in silence for the most part as we seemed to be working in unison, as one.

The lyrics flew out of me so easily, it was like breathing.

Verse after verse, the melody came naturally.

It didn’t matter if anyone knew what the song was about, as long as she got to hear it.

Y/N POV

Chris and I never had a great relationship.

It wasn’t toxic or anything, we just didn’t love eachother, but were determined to make it work.

The honeymoon phase was relatively short, only lasting the first two months of our relationship.

Out fights consisted of the same common denominators every single time. His partying and my friendship with Noah.

Chris hated Noah with a burning passion. In fact, Chris was convinced that Noah was in love with me, which would be impossible because how could someone like Noah be in love with someone like me?

Noah was a genuine, kind soul, and I was often labelled a vindictive bitch.

He would have to be desperate for human connection if he fell in love with me.

“Seriously, I don’t understand why you’re friends with him, Y/N, he clearly just wants to get in your pants.” Chris sighed, exasperated at my apparent obliviousness to Noah’s alleged feelings for me.

“Because he’s my best friend, and no, he doesn’t want to get in my pants. I think I’d know if he did.” I replied, sick of this argument going round in circles.

“Y/N, please listen to me. He isn’t your friend. He just wants to use you to get off. He likes the power he has over you.” Chris argued back, raising his voice.

“Stop lying about it, I’m not going to believe you.” I yelled. “This is so fucking dumb, Chris, all we ever do is go around in circles until we either get bored of the argument and go cool off somewhere or we just end up fucking!”

“Who’s fault is it that we keep running in circles like this?” Chris snarled. “You’re the one who is still hanging around that jackass.”

“Oh my god! When will you realise that Noah is not the problem here, you are!” I yelled.

“Then how about I leave and make your life easier?” Chris shouted.

“Good! Get the fuck out of my house!” I yelled in reply, gesturing towards the door.

He simply turned around and left. Just like that.

The silence that filled the house wasn’t unpleasant like I thought it would be, but instead it was peaceful and I welcomed it with open arms.

Finally, I had enough space to think. To breathe. To exist without him screaming down my ear about Noah, and without me interrogating him about him going out with his friends into the very early hours of the morning.

But after a few hours of this new silence, the house became almost too silent. Too cold. Too big.

I needed the space to be smaller again.

With my mind in autopilot, I found myself climbing into the drivers side of my car and driving over to Noah’s house, desperate for comfort and some semblance of crowdedness.

Noah’s front door opened before you had even rung the bell.

“Hey, you okay? Matt had us worried about you.” Noah gushed, pulling me into a hug.

“Yeah just wanted to hang out for a bit. It’s too quiet at my place.” I explained with a shrug.

“Is Chris out again?”  Noah asked as we walked into his house.

“Oh, we broke up like two hours ago.” I said with a laugh, but I couldn’t tell if it was a fake laugh or not.

“Shit are you okay?” Noah asked, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Yeah. I mean I think so.” I said with a shrug.

“Y/N, you’re crying.” Noah whispered, his voice significantly more gentle than it had been previously as he cupped my cheek and wiped a stray tear away from my face.

“No, really I’m okay.” I said, unsure as to why I was crying.

“Come here.” Noah whispered, pulling me into a tight hug.

I wasn’t sure what it was about hugging Noah made me feel so emotional, but I couldn’t control the damn that burst, letting all of my pent up frustrations at Chris gush out.

The more I cried, the clearer the real reason for my tears became. I was in love with Noah.

NOAH POV

I gently rubbed Y/N’s back as I held her close to my chest, hoping to ease her pain as much as I could.

“Come with me, I want to show you something.” I whispered, guiding her into the studio before sitting her down on the small sofa we had in there for moments like these.

She curled up in her usual spot with her knees pulled up to her chest.

I switched on the computer monitor and selected the audio file that I wanted.

Besides the purple LED lights, that were Y/N’s favourite, the monitor was the only thing that illuminated the otherwise empty room.

The soft melody of the acoustic demo that we had recorded earlier that morning filled the air as I sat next to Y/N on the sofa and pulling her into my arms. She instantly snuggled closer into my chest as if she were hiding from something and was seeking comfort.

She was my safe space and I was hers.

The lyrics began to take over the melody as I rocked Y/N back and forth in my arms.

There are scars that never ever show themselves

You get when you’re left alone too long in Hell

I was sick and tired of leaving Y/N to live her life without me by her side. I was desperate to be able to call her mine. To hold her hand as we walked to our favourite coffee shop. To kiss her cheek and tell her she looked beautiful as she got ready to go out. To be able to hold her as we drifted off to sleep in our bed.

I was desperate for HER.

I began to sing the lyrics to her, causing her to look up into my eyes as I looked down into hers.

Well, if I'm there to catch you when you fall You'll have a friend down in Hell after all

“Noah.” She murmured.

“Yes, Y/N.” I whispered in reply.

“I love you.” She whispered.

I answered her by leaning down and placing a gentle kiss on her lips. Just enough to tell her exactly how I felt.

“Yours?” She asked after we pulled away.

“Mine.” I replied with a smile.

“Forever?”

“Yes, Y/N, mine forever.”

And if you're there to catch me when I fall Then maybe Hell ain't so bad after all

[ramen-writes]

Prompt: The villian comes around the corner, sneaking into the hero's house while they're supposed to be celebrating with friends. Only to see the hero slumped against the wall, drunk.

-------------------------

The villian came around the corner. Only to see the hero all alone in her room slumped against the wall with bottles surrounding her.

"Wh- what are you doing?" The villain asks.

"Huh?" The hero raises her head to look at him. "Oh... It's you" she says sadly.

"Yeah it's me so get up and fight me" he says urging her to get up.

"Nahh let's just end it here, I am tired, you win I lose, happy?"

Confusion fills up the villain's face "N-no, not happy. See? I am not happy. What do you mean, what's going on? You always fight for this place and the people of it"

The hero hums "yeah I guess but it's not like I owe it to them" a hunt of resentment seeps through her calm voice.

"Wha- but you grew up here with these people shouldn't you want to protect them?"

"I can say the same about you too. You weren't the only one they treated like an outcast because of what you could do. I was treated the same way but when you decided to show up all powerful and mighty I had them choice to either join you and prove them correct or fight you and prove them wrong. I did what I thought was the right thing..."

The villain gapes and the hero continues "everyone looovves the hero until they get all up and close with them and realize it's not all fun", she goes to grab another bottle but before she can the villain quickly snatches it

"Hey!! I need THAT. How else am I supposed to act like everything is fine if I can't let it out in the solitude of my own home and drink my problems away" the villain sets the bottle aside, not listening.

" This isn't about the town's people is it. Someone close to you? Who? Viviana? Cobey? Never liked them, always thought they were kinda a weird duo to take up as a guard" the villain said clearing some of the tissues and bottles so he could sit.

"No it wasn't them" the hero mumbled out.

"Then who? I really don't think you are close to that many people" the hero hummed softly in agreement.

"W-wait I didn't mean it as an insult I just meant that there aren't many people who you trust... wait that doesn't make it better does it?" The villian winced.

"Well if it isn't them then who-" The villain's eyes widen as the realization sets in. "No..." He whispers and the hero just nods.

"Liam? How? He is the last person I would've guessed to be the reason for all this" he gestured to the bottles and pillows.

"He doesn't know that I am like this. I acted all calm and composed in front of him." She slumps "well I hope I did because otherwise I just seem like a sad lonely idiot"

"B-but that doesn't make any sense... Yo-you guys were in love. He was the only person I couldn't even think of trying to blackmail because he was so loyal to you".

The hero let out a chuckle. "It's not his fault really... Mostly mine for putting the kingdom and the people of it before everything else".

"Of course it's not your fault I just don't understand what happened". The villain says.

"He wanted to settle down, and I couldn't do that, he wanted a family and I couldn't give it to him, he wanted me to not put the city before everything else and I once again couldn't do it." she let out a sob. "I let something that took everything from me destroy the one thing I had left"

"Oh..." Is all the villain could let out. He didn't know how to comfort anyone or if he even should comfort her.

"The worse part is that he was so nice about it too" her voice cracks.

"He said that he couldn't do it, that he couldn't live like this when I put everything else before him. But he also said that it didn't mean that he wasn't going to be there for me. He said he would still be my friend and will always fight beside me" she let out another sob. "H-he wished me luck and said that he hoped that I could learn to put myself before the city... H-he said he would be there for me but that he can't wait forever and this is something I have to learn myself" by now she was full on sobbing.

The villain didn't know what to say or do. "You know...I had a similar experience too" he says. Where did that come from? Stupid.

But now the hero was looking at him with curious eyes. Those eyes wide, and for a moment almost forgetting the tears they had just shed. He sighed, it's not like she was going to remember this anyways and it's better than listening to her sob.

"She was the most talented and beautiful woman I had very seen. She still is..."

He glanced at her only to find her staring up at him urging him to continue. He sighed.

"She was the only on who understood me, she knew what I was going through without me even telling her. She didn't have her life any better than mine but she still went around with a smile on her face that made my day. She was the light at the end of the tunnel, the reason I decided to wake up every morning...and then I ruined it. I became this. Even after everything she did for me I knew I couldn't live like that forever and I didn't want her to have to either... But she didn't agree. She believed there was a better way. But I knew that was just hope and hope is dangerous. So as much I wanted to I couldn't let myself become the hopeful boy I used to be waiting for a day where everything would be fine. So I left..."

He finished and looked at her.

"that's not a good ending" she pouted.

"He let out a sad chuckle "No...it's not, is it? But I guess we can't always have a happily ever after" He glanced at her again.

Her bright eyes, the one that shined so bright everytime she smiled.

"Do you miss her? Do you regret it? does the pain ever stop?" Her voice cracked at the last sentence.

" Yes... I miss her every day" and he did but not because he didn't get to see her but because every time he did she acted as if she didn't know him, as if everything they went through didn't matter like becoming...this, erased everything else.

"And I do question if she was right. That if I hadn't become the villain everything would have been fine but I also know that that's just wishful thinking..." He sighed.

"The pain doesn't go away...well at least for me it didn't but it gets better over time. Surround yourself with the people who love you most and soon you'll understand that that's just how somethings happen. Unlike me you didn't lose someone, maybe as a lover sure but from what you told me it seems as if you aren't losing him as a friends or someone you care about and who cares about you." He says.

"What about you? Did you lose her?" She asked, her voice slightly more sober now.

"I like to think not forever" he said as a sad smile made its way onto his face.

That was one thing he let himself hope for, the only time he let himself be a little boy again and believe that one-day everything would be okay.

The villain let out a breath getting up.

"Let's get you cleaned up first alright?" The hero nodded as the villain helped them stand up.

The moment she was on her feet she stumbles forward. The villain caught her before she could fall. "Sorry... It's hard to walk after you just drowned yourself in..."

She squinted her eyes and looked towards the bottles "whatever that is. What is that anyways?" She asked.

The villain confused looked at the bottles and his eyes widened. "What the- you were drinking straight up hard liquor, no wonder you're like this. Come on I'll carry you"