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stxphxn-strange · 4 years ago

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nalgenes and french toast

a/n: Tony angst for my college au ft. sweet ThorBruce/Odinson family moments just bc, and Stephen doing the most bc he loves tony more than anything

Anthony was honestly amazed at how well he could hold back his anguish. He woke up from one of the worst dreams of his life, just barely suppressing a cry that should have woken up Stephen beside him and Wong across the room. To his credit, Wong was a reasonably heavy sleeper and was less likely to be disturbed/woken up. On the other hand Stephen had a sixth sense for when Anthony was upset and could tell, even in his sleep, when he had nightmares. Anthony found it both incredible and pathetic that he managed to wake up and slip out of the room without waking up his boyfriend.

It wasn’t like he didn’t want Stephen to comfort him, he did. More than almost anything, Anthony wanted to be lulled by sweet nothings and comforting words until he fell asleep again, but that could come after he dealt with his emotional outburst. He just woke up from a dream where his beloved mother did a 180, caring for/about him as much (or as little) as Howard Stark did, and the thought of that ever happening was devastating. Maria was always warm and loving even when Anthony was at his worst, and she was his biggest supporter next to Stephen, so of course he was scared to relive that dream or lose her love in the waking world.

Anthony knew he could call his mother and talk to her, and she’d comfort him as soon as she realized he was upset. But what if she didn’t?What if someday she did stop loving him? What if the few people in his life who genuinely cared just decided that they were done dealing with him, and his sensitivity wasn’t a strength, but a reason to leave him? He wouldn’t even be worth it to associate with, not even because of his name and subsequent influence. Anthony didn’t think he was good for much besides being available for people to leech off of anyway, he was just a worthless, crying mess in the living room. He was just a coward.

He buried his head and curled up into a little ball, trying not to wake up Stephen or any of the others. What would they think if they saw him like this? Stephen had seen Anthony cry before, and he wasn’t likely to judge. Anthony never judged his boyfriend when he cried, but he didn’t want to be seen in this state. They could all change their minds about him if they saw how upset he was from a stupid nightmare.

There was too much at stake. Crying alone was safer.

++++

It always annoyed Stephen when he woke up in the middle of the night and realized he was thirsty. If he woke up at a certain time of night, it was damn near impossible to go back to sleep. Luckily it was only 2:16. He’d probably be able to fall back asleep before 3:00, even after going to the kitchen and filling up his Nalgene.

He slid out of bed, putting his socks back on when he realized that Anthony wasn’t beside him. Stephen wasn’t too worried, figuring he was just in the bathroom or enjoying a 2am snack. The living room lights were on, further leading Stephen to believe that Anthony was secretly eating one of his snacks (which he never minded, Anthony often forgot to eat and Stephen was used to his boyfriend taking food from him). But he didn’t find anything wholesome like Anthony eating Pretzel Goldfish, he instead stumbled into something heart-wrenching. Anthony was crying on the loveseat, wrapped in a blanket and still wearing the shirt he’d taken from Stephen that night.

Honestly, it went beyond just silent crying. Anthony’s entire body shook with powerful sobs, and even from the kitchen Stephen could see the effort it was taking him not to scream. What was wrong? Why would Anthony suddenly cry alone when he usually confided in him?

Stephen cleared his throat. “Hey, Ant?”

Anthony started, realizing that he wasn’t alone. “I’m fine.”

“Bullshit,” Stephen replied, setting his water bottle down and sitting beside his boyfriend. “I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s wrong?”

“It’s nothing, I...” Anthony shook his head, burying his face in his hands as he fought back another sob.

“Do you want a hug?” Stephen asked.

Anthony nodded desperately. “Please, I can’t do this on my own anymore, I can’t—”

Stephen pulled Anthony close, wrapping the blanket around the both of them and softly stroking his boyfriend’s back. “You don’t have to deal with anything alone, Anthony. I promise.”

Anthony nodded again, pressing himself closer to Stephen. “I do, or else everyone will leave me. Everyone will change their minds about wanting me around, and why wouldn’t you?”

“Hey, look at me,” Stephen said, gently cupping Anthony’s face and gazing into his teary brown eyes. “I won’t ever change my mind about you, and you’ll always have me.”

“I’m not good enough,” Anthony muttered. “For you to stay, I mean. And hasn’t it been insufferable, knowing me for all this time?”

“What? No, of course not love,” Stephen replied. “Never. There’s legitimately no one I would have rather had by my side growing up and going through life with. Everyday I get closer to you and I want that forever. There won’t ever be a day where I don’t want you in my life, as my significant other and as my best friend. You’re my everything, Anthony Stark, everything.”

Anthony did sob then, clutching fistfuls of Stephen’s shirt and holding him tightly as his emotions took the wheel.

“It’s okay,” Stephen soothed, hugging him even tighter. “I’ve got you, I’m never letting go. I’ll always be here, I swear.”

Anthony didn’t respond, he couldn’t. He was crying too hard to speak, worked up from Stephen’s words. They cut down his fears like an axe to a tree, but did he deserve such unconditional love? Why did Stephen still bother with him?

Stephen kissed his head softly, humming a relaxing tune to try and calm him down. It didn’t take long, it was still quite late and Anthony’s exhaustion was starting to take over.

He yawned. “Sorry for keeping you up.”

“Don’t apologize. I’d never ignore you crying, no matter how tired I was, and I wouldn’t go to sleep without knowing you’re okay,” Stephen replied. “What happened?”

“Hm?” Anthony was a little zoned out, listening to Stephen’s heartbeat in his ear.

“Why you come out here anyway?” Stephen asked gently, kissing him again.

“I woke up from a bad nightmare and felt really shaken. I knew I was upset the minute I woke up, and I didn’t want to wake you up over something that stupid,” Anthony confessed. “But I don’t have it in me to talk about it right now, Steph.”

“You don’t have to,” Stephen said. “Do you think you’d be able to go back to sleep?”

Anthony shrugged. “Maybe. I’m tired.”

“Hold on a minute. I have an idea,” Stephen said. He stood up, booping his boyfriend’s nose. “Wait here.”

Anthony rested his head on his arms while he waited, his eyelids growing heavier by the second. He was fighting to keep them open the entire time Stephen was gone (and he wasn’t even gone for that long), his eyes almost closed when Stephen returned. He didn’t pay much attention to what Stephen was doing, almost asleep when Stephen turned the lights off.

“Okay, c’mere,” Stephen said, inviting Anthony to cuddle again.

The engineering student moved clumsily into his boyfriend’s waiting arms, faintly registering something soft underneath them where the floor should have been. He hummed in question, snuggling closer to Stephen.

“You know how we sometimes slept on the cushions when I visited family in Italy with you?” Stephen asked. “A few years ago, I mean.”

“Yeah,” Anthony murmured, wrapping his arms around Stephen’s neck and resting his head on his shoulder. “We fell asleep on the deck the first night, watching the stars. I think Natasha has a photo either for our wedding or for blackmail purposes. Maybe both.”

Stephen smiled at the memory and at the thought of someday marrying him. “I wanted to recreate those nights, hence the couch cushions and all the blankets, to try and make you smile.”

Anthony hugged him tighter. “I love it. And I love you.”

“I love you so, so much,” Stephen replied, beginning to stroke Anthony’s back again. “And you know you can talk to me about anything. I’ll never judge you, I’m here for you no matter what.”

“I know, sometimes it just still doesn’t click that people actually want me in their lives,” Anthony said.

Stephen’s heart broke at the admission. “Believe me when I say this: I’ll always want you.”

Anthony didn’t respond verbally, hugging Stephen closer and finally allowing himself to relax. “I’m really tired,” he mumbled later, shifting slightly into another comfortable sleeping/cuddling position.

“Get some sleep,” Stephen encouraged him, kissing his hair.

“You’ll stay with me?” Anthony asked.

Stephen was overcome with love for Anthony, but also by a feral desire to protect him from anyone who ever tried to hurt him again. “Of course I will, and I don’t just mean tonight. I love you.”

Anthony yawned. “Love you most.”

Stephen hushed him softly, rolling his eyes at how argumentative Anthony could be even when he was this exhausted. “Goodnight, dumbass.”

++++

++++

Stephen was the first to wake up, rudely awakened by the sound of the door slamming.

“Was anyone going to tell me that Thor is in love with me?” Bruce asked.

“How could you not know?” Wong asked.

“To be fair, the first time I told Anthony I loved him he thought I meant it platonically,” Stephen replied, looking fondly at his still-sleeping boyfriend. “I did have to clarify for him. But Bruce, it’s clear as day. What prescription are your glasses?”

Bruce flipped Stephen off from across the room.

“How is it that our two (2) smartest friends are also complete idiots?” Hela asked. “No offense Bruce, and I’d again like to welcome you to the family.”

“He basically already lives with us,” Loki muttered in mock complaint. He really didn’t have anything against Bruce, but he did have an image to maintain.

Wong cleared his throat. “Are you calling me a complete idiot? Because I’m clearly smarter than the entire group combined.”

“You’re also SHOUTING,” Anthony replied, now awake and glaring sleepily.

“Sorry Ant, but this isn’t the first time I’ve accidentally woken you up,” Wong said. “It probably won’t be the last.”

“That wouldn’t surprise me,” Anthony conceded. He looked over at Stephen. “Kiss?”

Stephen nodded with a smile. He was expecting a sweet, sort of lazy kiss and was not expecting Anthony to grab his shirt and crush their lips together for a mini makeout session. Nevertheless, Stephen couldn’t complain. “Jesus.”

“Good morning,” Anthony said impishly.

“You’re damn right it is,” Stephen replied, laying down again and pillowing his head on Anthony’s shoulder.

“Get a room,” Loki yelled, his mouth full of French toast.

tags: @ah3m @stark-strange-love @grumb-lin @maya-custodios-dionach @chocopiggy @majesticnerdynerd @spooky-n-spunky @ironstrange-chaos @kiwidino

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catboymingi · 4 years ago

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and the damsel in distress - veninder chap. 2

navi/masterlist

story masterlist

pairing: mingi x reader

genre: angst, fluff; eventual best friends to lovers

word count: 7.2k

warnings: language, insecurities, past trauma mention, somewhat suicidal thoughts (very briefly, one sentence)

a/n: after ages of exams where i focused on smaller writings i finally am updating... this chapter is a ride but it is the ride i decided to take

yo var det mig / der’ dummet sig? - was it me / that messed up?

when you woke up and unlocked your phone you immediately wished you hadn’t woken up, ever. you had more than a hundred messages from various chats, and while you wished you could just ignore them forever you knew that you’d have to deal with it tomorrow latest, and you’d rather do it without an audience. so you had no choice to reply, opening the private messages first and telling all your friends that you’d reply in the group chat, before you opened that one.

[y/n]: sry for that. forgot my wallet, had no way to get home in time

[y/n]: nothing happened tho

the reply came almost immediately, as if they’d just waited for you to come online.

[saranghoe]: u literally didnt even try 2 call dibs n now ur staying the night?? seems suspicious

[model contract when???]: yeah literally!

[y/n]: as i said, better than sleeping on the street

[model contract when???]: just dont go near them again. ever

[y/n]: fine

[y/n]: deal

you hated the idea, but you knew that if you didn’t agree your life would be a living hell. and that was definitely not something you wanted, knowing how they’d made life hell for other people and knowing that there was no way anyone could protect you from that. so, the next thing you did was click on ‘hyung hate club’, not even bothering to read the messages before leaving the group. you didn’t like this, but it was better this way. as much as you liked the boys, you liked being able to go to uni in peace more, and you knew that would be impossible if you so much as breathed in their direction from now on. you sighed, putting your phone down and laying back onto your bed again, wanting some peace for yourself, but you weren’t granted that. less than a minute after you’d laid down your phone buzzed, once, twice, thrice. knowing that you wouldn’t be able to relax until you knew what was up you sat back up, checking your phone to see messages from an unknown number. curious, you clicked on the notification.

[unknown]: y/n???

[unknown]: im mingi

[unknown]: whats wrong??

you weren’t sure whether to be happy he messaged or scream into your pillow. in some way it was nice he cared, but that also meant it would be harder to avoid the boys. and that meant that, no matter how hard you tried, your friends would have a reason to be upset.

[y/n]: why?

[unknown]: you left the gc?

[unknown]: what happened

[y/n]: nothing dw, im all good

he saw the message but didn’t reply right away, which made you think that maybe he’d accept your reply. but then you saw him typing again, and a message you didn’t expect at all appeared on your screen.

[unknown]: did i mess up

[y/n]: wdym

you genuinely had no idea what he meant, or rather, how he could’ve got the idea that he’d messed up in any way. he’d been nothing but kind to you, there was not a single thing he could possibly have messed up on. but when a new message popped up you knew he was genuinely worrying about it, and you felt bad for not being able to tell him the real reason why you left the group chat, why you had to avoid them.

[unknown]: like did i do something wrong

[y/n]: not at all

[y/n]: its not abt you dw

you hoped he’d leave it be with that, but of course not. he wanted to know what was wrong, he wanted to know why you suddenly didn’t seem to want to talk to him, or any of them for that matter, anymore.

[unknown]: then what is it

and while you were thinking of a good excuse, mingi seemed to have caught on to what exactly the problem was, as was made apparent by his next message.

[unknown]: its your friends isnt it

there was no way you could reply to that decently, so you didn’t, staring at the screen in frustration with your friends and him and mainly yourself. you wanted to say something, you really did, but you had no idea what. tell him you were sorry? tell him to leave you alone? tell him that sometimes life just sucked and you had to deal with it? none of that would’ve been a good reply, and in all honesty you also didn’t want to have to deal with the emotional turmoil it would inevitably bring.

you didn’t notice that you’d spaced out and your phone had locked itself until it buzzed in your hand again, another message from the unknown number you now knew to be mingi. it just read ‘got it’ and you felt awful, scared that you’d hurt or upset one of the only people in forever that had shown genuine care for you. but of course you’d had to mess it up.

the next day came and you still felt bad, somewhat fearful as well. your friend group’s chat had returned to the usual topics, but you still weren’t sure how they’d react to you when they saw you again. you were hellbent on acting as usual, hoping that if you acted like nothing happened they would as well, and it was somewhat successful, getting weird stares every now and then, but no more comments than usual. you wouldn’t let yourself relax just yet, but this was a good sign, at least.

but then came lunch. you tried to act casual, not wanting to let on to the fact that you were horrified that one of the boys would shout out for you at any moment. your eyes darted around aimlessly, mainly looking for a certain giant sporting bright red hair, simply because he was easiest to spot out of the group you’d spent saturday night with. when you still hadn’t spotted him when you sat down to eat with your friends your shoulders relaxed, but it had been a mistake to think that they’d forgotten about you.

you hadn’t noticed that yunho was on his way towards you until he was standing right there, having moved surprisingly inconspicuously for someone his height. but there he was, staring down at you with an expression you couldn’t judge. you tried to avoid his eyes, feeling so incredibly guilty for ignoring him when he and his friends had been your saviour when you needed one, but you couldn’t help it. even now you could feel your friends’ angry stares on you, when you hadn’t even acknowledged the boy’s presence.

“y/n”, yunho suddenly spoke up. you couldn’t help but look up at him at that, knowing it was a mistake, but your head moved by itself. and he noticed, a small smile appearing on his face now. he nodded his head as a sign that he wanted to talk to you with a little more privacy, and you knew that if you didn’t go with him he’d try to sort whatever he wanted to sort here, in front of your friends, which would be way worse than leaving with him for maybe two minutes and returning, convincing them that you told him never to come up to you again. so you got up, but before you could actually go to a more private area he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. you hit his back in a desperate attempt to let you down, but deep down you knew that your punches wouldn’t affect him in any way. so you gave up, hanging like a sack of potatoes, feeling everyone’s curious stares on you.

he first let you down at their table, hongjoong scolding him that a less dramatic approach would’ve done the job as well. wooyoung and yeosang were laughing while the others looked at you curiously, and you were still deciding whether or not to kill yunho right there.

that decision was made for you when mingi spoke up.

“you told me you’d see me at lunch.” you couldn’t quite decipher his tone, whether he was angry or disappointed or hurt, but you knew it wasn’t a positive emotion you heard in his voice. you hated that you were the reason for his upset, but you also hated that your decision about how to deal with the dilemma you were in had been made for you, by people that knew nothing about your situation. you weren’t them, you didn’t have a support system, you didn’t have the option to choose who you were friends with, you didn’t have any of the things that were a given for everyone else. you had to take what you got and make do with it, and they’d just made that significantly harder for you.

“i told you i couldn’t”, you replied, your own voice a mixture of sadness and anger. you wanted to be able to, really, but it wasn’t something you could change. and the fact that he’d seen how your friends had reacted to you doing something they didn’t like and still didn’t stop this, maybe even actively encouraged this, made you angry, even though maybe it shouldn’t. he hadn’t had any ill intentions, but that didn’t really matter to you when you knew he wouldn’t be affected at all by whatever happened as a reaction to this. that he - they - had started a battle you’d have to fight.

no one said anything to that and you thought the conversation was over, that they’d realised that you wouldn’t be able to join their friend group or talk to them at all unless necessary, so you turned around, managing to take a single step before someone grabbed your wrist. you turned around again in surprise and saw that it was seonghwa, whom you’d assumed to be kind and soft-spoken, definitely not the kind to do this. but here you were, being kept from leaving by his hand around your wrist. it was mingi who spoke, though.

“they’re not being nice to you. you deserve better.” and you knew, you knew all that, you knew everything he could tell you to convince you that they weren’t the right friends for you, but that didn’t change anything. and you’d had enough hurt, enough mistreatment in your life to want to avoid it at all costs now. if that meant giving up a bit of your happiness but getting to keep your peace of mind that was a price you were more than willing to pay. but the boy looking at you with softness in his eyes didn’t seem to be willing to have you pay that price.

“sit down.” seonghwa had let go of your arm now, moving a little so that you’d fit next to him. it wasn’t an order, more of a suggestion, but you were too tired, too exhausted to potentially risk a discussion you might not be able to win, so you just complied, resting your head in your palms. and because of that the boys at first didn’t even notice that you didn’t have your food, or any of your things, since it didn’t seem like you wanted to eat anyway.

it was san that noticed, already having finished inhaling his meal when you hadn’t even started yours. the surprise at that was what made him realise that there was no meal for you to finish.

“yunho!”, he suddenly yelled out, making everyone’s heads snap up, even yours. “you forgot y/n’s things when you kidnapped her!” at that realisation, panic made its way onto your face. you had no idea what state your things would be in by the time you’d reach them. your phone, your wallet, all your notes were in your bag, and you’d just left it with your friends that without a doubt were plotting how to ruin your life by now. you jolted up and towards the table they’d been sitting at, but when you saw they’d already left your panic only increased. your bag was still there, carelessly kicked underneath the table when you’d been sitting with the others, but you had no idea what the insides would look like. you probably looked like a maniac all but ripping it open, fumbling with the zipper with shaking hands and ransacking your bag to make sure you still had everything you needed, checking your wallet and phone to see just how fucked you were. everything was still in order, though; it seemed like they’d forgotten about your bag, in part thanks to you having kicked it out of sight thoughtlessly. you almost cried at the relief, and mingi, who’d followed you after your sudden exit to make sure you were okay, wasn’t really sure what to do. he kneeled down next to where you were still crouching on the floor, staring at your bag and its content as if it were the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, and just looked at you, waiting for you to realise he was there as well.

when after a while (was it seconds? minutes? it felt too long for mingi) you still seemed to not have noticed his presence he carefully tapped your leg, making sure his hand was visible before he actually touched you. you seemed so spaced out that he was pretty certain any sudden touch or noise would scare you to no end. but even though he was so careful not to be too sudden your head still shot up with a force that made him fear you’d break your neck; you’d half expected one of your friends to be the one touching you, so your anxious reaction was at least in part caused by that. but when you saw that it was only him you relaxed a little, though your heartbeat still would not return to normal.

“you okay?”, he asked you once it seemed like you wouldn’t drop dead from shock or kill him if he said anything, worry apparent in his voice, and you could understand him, really - this wasn’t a regular reaction to forgetting your bag with your friends. but you didn’t have regular friends either, so it evened out.

“i guess.” you grabbed your bag and got up, wanting nothing more than to get out of that awkward situation, and the tall boy followed suit.

“wanna join us for the rest of lunch?” he expected you to say no. you knew that you should say no. and a look at where you’d sat at the table confirmed that you didn’t even have anything to eat anymore - they’d probably thrown it away as soon as you left. so there was no reason to go, there was no reason to make yourself even more of a target. but maybe that was why you ended up saying yes. you’d already become a target, so now you might as well spend time with them, you didn’t really have anything to lose anymore. and the smile he gave you when you agreed to join them made you think that it’d maybe be worth it, even.

the others looked at you in surprise when you returned to their table, mingi having a triumphant look on his face. they didn’t say anything, though, scared of putting you off and causing another somewhat-freak out like the one earlier. of course, to them it didn’t make sense, they had no idea just what your friends could do. they’d never been their victim, and they’d never been around to see what their victims had to deal with. but you knew. and the thought of it almost sent you into a panic attack, so you let yourself fall onto the bench (a loud ‘thud’ could be heard, so you really hadn’t been gentle with yourself) and put your head on the table, ignoring how greasy it probably was, your focus being on stopping your breath from speeding up before it was too late. you couldn’t see the looks they gave each other, but you could imagine them. you were a mess, a scared, traumatised mess, and that less than 48 hours after first having met them. you honestly wouldn’t be surprised if they told you to go sit somewhere else, or got up and left themselves. but they were still there when you lifted your head again, looking at you worriedly, but without judgment.

mingi was the first to speak, having put the pieces together by now.

“they’re that bad?” you knew whom he meant. he’d seen the message, he’d been the one to figure out they didn’t want you to talk to them, he’d seen the way you’d rummaged your bag, so it wasn’t hard for him to figure out what, or rather whom, you were scared of. yet he couldn’t imagine why you were that scared of people supposed to be your friends.

“worse.” you tried to mask your fear with a bitter tone, but it didn’t exactly work. the boys didn’t exactly know how to react to that, trying desperately to come up with a way to lighten the mood.

“you have eight bodyguards now.” you weren’t the only one surprised when it was jongho that spoke up, but the others were quick to agree, telling you that the girls had to get past them first. ‘mainly jongho, to be fair’, as wooyoung elaborated. and while you still weren’t feeling good about it, you were feeling better now, the fearful expression replaced by a smile. san, not wanting to waste that chance, asked you if he could re-add you to ‘hyung hate club’, and you couldn’t resist the puppy eyes he gave you, so you agreed. as soon as he did so mingi got his phone out, resending the message he’d sent when he’d brought you home. ‘pyjama party this weekend n y/ns still coming’. your reply was an emoji rolling its eyes, but the smile hadn’t left your face. then you saved his number, asking the others to send a message with their name so you could know who was who.

“they’ll never shut up”, hongjoong informed you casually as he sent his name, and while you knew he was telling you, indirectly, that from this moment on you would never be able to have a moment of peace and quiet and no notifications you were happy about this fact, because it meant that at least you wouldn’t be lonely.

“i have my ways.” you grinned at him as you said that, then you went to save all the numbers in your phone. doing so brought your attention to the time, and you noticed that it was time to leave for class, your happy expression immediately disappearing as you realised that they wouldn’t be around to protect you during class. And class was the place you couldn’t escape from; you needed the credits, and part of you also didn’t want to have to give up on something that always brought you joy just because you had to fear you wouldn’t be left alone.

“i need to go.” your expression didn’t go unnoticed, and seonghwa and yeosang, who had this period off, told you they’d be right there if something happened, you just had to send a message. they also insisted on bringing you to your class, and while you did feel a little like a child that needs their parents to bring them everywhere because they’re scared by themselves you also really appreciated it. so you took off with your two bodyguards, waving at the others as they left for their own classes.

“it’ll be fine”, yeosang said after a couple hundred metres during which neither of you had said anything, and you looked at him with doubt apparent in your eyes.

“it will”, seonghwa stated, a lot more sure about it than you were. “and if not, you know we’ll be right there.” that only did little to reassure you, but you had no choice either way.

you reached your classroom way too fast, and you could feel your breath speed up as soon as you walked towards the door, hesitating. maybe you should just drop out of uni and become a shepherd in a secluded village somewhere in a strange country in europe. maybe that was a better plan. but the choice was made for you as one of your now ex-friends waved towards you, a cheery expression on her face that would have fooled you, had you not seen that same expression on her face countless times before, knowing that it meant nothing but danger. but it was too late to turn around now, so all you could do was pretend you didn’t know what you were about to face.

“hey!” your tone was at least as fake as her expression as you greeted her back. then you went to your seat, and for the first half of class things actually went okay. you were tense, you were stressed, you were scared, but nothing happened. but then the teacher told you that it was time to do group work now, and things went downhill. you were grouped by how you were seating, which included you, one of the girls, and two classmates you barely ever talked to, whose names you didn’t even know, but whom you had nothing against, at least. but they would soon have something against you.

as you were working, one of them had her laptop out to take notes and prepare a presentation, as was the task. and that gave your ex-friend an idea. it was an expensive laptop, and you, as always, had a cup of water on the table, fairly close to the middle so it wouldn’t be able to drop by itself. it wouldn’t have to drop by itself, though. first, the girl next to you dropped her pen and kicked it over to the other two, pretending to have done so in an attempt to retrieve it and be able to pick it up.

“i’m sorry, i dropped my pen! can you maybe pick it up, i can’t reach it.” an apologetic smile was sent their way, as if to say ‘sorry for the hassle’. both girls opposite you ducked at the same time, trying to see where the pen was and who would be able to pick it up more easily. that was what she’d planned, though; as soon as they were no longer able to see you, she spilled your water. over the laptop that was still on the table. and as if that wasn’t enough, she got up, yelling your name loudly, asking you why you’d done that. everyone was looking at you by now, and the girl whose laptop had been sacrificed quickly tried to dry it off with her sleeve, asking for tissues, trying to save it. no use, it seemed like it had broken right away. and everyone thought it was you. that you’d broken the laptop on purpose.

“she was writing her thesis, y/n! i knew you were jealous, but i didn’t think you’d go that far!” you just stared at the scene around you wide-eyed, not even fully realising that this was real. by now even the teacher had come to look at what exactly was going on, and your lack of self defense was a seemingly obvious sign of you actually being the culprit.

“i think you should leave the class now. and you will have to replace the laptop.” all you could do was stare at who used to be your friend, unable to believe that she would do this to you. you hadn’t even actually done anything, and you’d been friends with these girls for almost a year now, yet she’d had no hesitation to ruin not only your reputation but also you financially. she was fully aware that you were barely scraping by. she was fully aware that you would never be able to replace the laptop. she knew all that. and she still did it, just because you’d dared to talk to someone they’d called dibs on. you couldn’t believe it.

you didn’t really remember how you’d left the class, and were surprised to find that you’d remembered to pack all your things back into your bag, that you hadn’t forgotten anything. you’d just left, going who even knew where, dropping on the floor when your legs didn’t want to carry you anymore, and starting to cry. and you stayed there, crying, losing all feeling for how much time had passed. this had been your last class of the day, so you had nowhere to be, and you didn’t want to be anywhere, either. you wanted to vanish. you wanted to die, in all honesty. if it continued like this your only choice was dropping out, basically having wasted the past year and all the work and money you’d put into your studies.

you were so caught up in your crying that you hadn’t noticed your phone buzzing with message after message, first paying attention to it when someone called you. it was seonghwa, who’d been there to pick you up after class only to see that you weren’t there. you didn’t feel like picking up, so you pressed the red button through your tears. he tried again, with the same result, and first when your phone started buzzing continuously with new messages you took a look at the group chat. now you found out why they were calling you - they’d tried to get you after class, but you weren’t there, and now you’d neither read their messages nor picked up their calls, so they all were quite worried at this point. you felt sorry about that, so you decided to send a message saying ‘sorry for worrying you’, but you couldn’t bring yourself to say that you were fine. it seemed like any sign of you being alive was already a success, though, lots of relieved messages flooding the chat. you hoped that maybe they wouldn’t ask what happened, but of course they did.

[hongjoong]: what happened?

[y/n]: i dont want to talk abt it

the chat was quiet after that, no one really knowing what to say. but, again, mingi sent you a private message.

[mingi]: where are you???

you didn’t want to explain anything and you didn’t want to pretend you were fine, so you just sent him your location, his ‘ill be right there’ coming just a few seconds after you’d sent your message. you were somewhat relieved that you wouldn’t have to be alone right now, but you also dreaded having to explain what happened. for now, though, you should probably focus on looking a little more like a person and a little less like you’d just spent the past hour crying. even though you had it didn’t have to be obvious like that, so you tried to clean off the streaks of ruined makeup on your cheeks, using your phone as a makeshift mirror. once you were done you tilted your head to see if there was anything you’d missed, but it was okay. it wasn’t good, but it was the best you could do right now. then, you waited.

you’d put in your headphones after roughly two minutes of waiting, way too nervous at every single sound that surrounded you, but that also made you miss mingi shouting your name once he’d arrived, and the sudden appearance of his large frame in your field of vision did surprise you quite some, flinching visibly before you took out your headphones and looked up at him, trying to smile but failing miserably. and he immediately caught on, sitting down next to where you were sitting on the floor and looking at you silently for a moment.

“do you want a hug?” he didn’t know what else to offer, but he wanted to let you know that he was there for you, and you willingly accepted the offer. he wrapped his arms around you then, pulling you a little closer so you could rest your head on his shoulder, and then you continued to sit in silence. it was strangely comforting, having someone there for you even when they had no idea what you were even upset about, offering you their presence and leaving the choice of whether or not you wanted to tell to you. you didn’t want to have to leave this situation, the safety you felt when embraced by mingi, who was much taller than you and who made you feel like, even just by virtue of his height, he could protect you. but you had to, you knew you did, you couldn’t spend all day wherever you were now.

“we should go home.” mingi hummed in response, removing his arms from where they were wrapped around you, and the two of you got up. he looked at you hesitantly - you could tell he wanted to say or ask something, so you cocked your head, encouraging him this way to tell you whatever was on his mind.

“they’re all worried, so i was wondering… i told them i’m going to meet you, but i think they’d feel better if they could see for themselves that you’re in one piece.” you nodded, both as a sign of understanding and to show that it was fine with you to meet them before you went home. he nodded as well, slowly starting to walk and somewhat unsure if you’d actually follow him, but you did.

you walked in silence until you reached the train station, where he bought the ticket for you again. you looked at him, about to protest, but when he told you it was his treat again you just nodded, not having the energy to argue and also glad that you could save the money seeing how very soon you’d need every single won. after that, you were silent again, sitting next to each other with your head on his shoulder, which you’d have been embarrassed and shy about if you weren’t so exhausted. you were exhausted, though, and it took all your energy to not fall asleep on him - but at least you succeeded with that, your eyes still somewhat open when he told you you had to get off at the next stop. you sat up, then, immediately missing the warmth and comfort of him so close to you. the boys made you feel weirdly safe, and you couldn’t tell why it was - maybe it was just the unusual feeling of having friends that cared about you even when you had nothing to offer, but no matter what it was, it was nice.

another thing that was nice was that mingi didn’t make you talk, didn’t even try. he’d talk, but he didn’t mind if you didn’t reply. he’d just resume his story, letting you know that he wasn’t ignoring you but that he didn’t expect anything from you. and with this behaviour you slowly started to feel better, feeling ready to tell what had happened by the point you reached the boys’ place.

“mingi?” it seemed like they’d been waiting for him to come home, shouting his name as soon as he’d closed the door behind you.

“and y/n!”, he replied, entering the living room with you in tow. you were somewhat surprised to find them all already gathered there, but mingi didn’t seem to be. he just plopped down on the couch, patting the space next to him to signal you to sit down as well. so you did, staring at your hands as soon as you’d sat down, unsure how to start. and they were unsure as well, unsure if they should ask you or wait until you started talking by yourself.

“i…”, you started, but then stopped again. this was hard.

“i’m sorry for not taking your calls”, was how you decided on starting. “i just- i couldn’t. everything was so much.” and even though you hadn’t even started actually explaining yet a small sob already escaped from your lips, and you hid your face in shame. you looked up again though when you felt a hand on your knee, giving it a reassuring squeeze, and looked at the boy attached to the hand - mingi. he looked at you with soft, encouraging eyes, and you took a few slow breaths before you started talking again.

“they hate me. in class, one of them spilled water on my classmate’s laptop and broke it, and then she said it was me, that i did it because i was jealous of that classmate’s good grades.” you tried very hard to stay calm while telling, not wanting to break down crying before you even finished explaining why you’d ignored them, why you’d run away from class without telling anyone where you were.

“and everyone believed her because no one saw and she doesn’t have a reason to do it but the way she framed it i do, and now the girl is so angry because she was writing her thesis and i think it’s gone now and also the laptop is broken and i have to replace it and i just… i can’t afford that and i don’t know what to do and- ouch!” mingi’s hand had remained on your knee while you spoke, but the more you elaborated the tighter his grip got, seemingly without him noticing, because when he heard you yelp he immediately took away his hand and apologised profoundly for having hurt you.

“i’m just so fucking angry that she’d do that”, he explained. “you literally haven’t done anything!” and he wasn’t the only angry one, either, all the boys visibly fuming.

“but i can’t do anything about it”, you said, sounding defeated, “but i’m so scared that i’ll be kicked out of the course because i need it for my degree and if i get kicked out due to gross misbehaviour, even when it wasn’t actually me, i’ll lose my scholarship and then i won’t be able to continue studying and i won’t have a degree either and no one will hire me and i’ll end up homeless and in debt and… and…” you were unable to continue, your sobs having completely taken over at this point. you felt pathetic for breaking down like this, but your entire future was on the line just because you’d chosen to pick your friends yourself rather than waiting for approval. it was unfair, and it was horrible, and it reinforced the belief in you that if you didn’t do what others told you to do, the consequences would be horrible.

mingi wrapped his arm around your shoulder, pulling you into his chest - it seemed like out of the eight boys he was the one who’d taken on the role of your protector now, always taking care of you like this, ever since you first met. the others were there as well, of course, but they were more of a silent support as mingi actually pulled you in, and it was okay that way. it worked that way, his deep voice and careful touch being able to calm you down enough that you were able to breathe somewhat regularly again.

“i want to go home now”, you said once the worst was over. you were still sniffling, but you didn’t care. you wanted to go back to your bed, you wanted to hug the teddy bear that you’d owned since you were born, you wanted the comfort of your own home. being here with them was nice, and it had helped you calm down, but your own home, your own bed, was still something different. and it seemed like they could understand that wish to be in a familiar environment, because they just nodded.

“i’ll bring you.” the way he’d said it it didn’t sound like you had a choice, but it was okay. the tall boy had been there for you all afternoon, and he (and the others too, really) would probably feel better if he knew you were home safe and sound. you hummed in response which he correctly interpreted as your okay, because he got up with you and followed you to the door where you stopped to say goodbye and thank them for listening. then you left, the red-haired giant following suit silently.

the train station wasn’t far away, as you knew by now, and the two of you walked next to each other in silence. once there, he paid for your ticket again without a second thought, and while you did feel guilty about it you also were glad he did so. your head rested on his shoulder again during the train ride, something you didn’t even think about anymore; being close to him felt natural, maybe due to the fact that there’d been a lot of good reasons to be close to him in the roughly three days you’d known each other, maybe because he didn’t seem to register it as something noteworthy either.

you didn’t talk during the trip, the first time either of you said anything being when you told him, once you’d gotten off the train, that you were glad he’d brought you, and tried to say goodbye to him unsuccessfully because he told you he’d walk you home unless you’d report him for stalking if he did so. you shook your head, smiling slightly, and started walking. it was once more him who kept the (so far nonexistent) conversation alive, commenting on anything with a child-like wonder in his voice. it sounded like he’d never seen a tree before, or a street, or a house - everything seemed to surprise and somewhat excite him, and in all honesty you thought it was sweet. he managed to distract until you reached your apartment this way, but he noticed the way you tensed up as you unlocked the door. a day ago he’d have thought your fear was an overreaction, and maybe its intensity was, but after what had happened today he was fairly certain it was justified.

“do you want me to go in first?”, he asked as you wouldn’t even fully open the door, obviously scared of what would expect you. you nodded and moved to the side, giving him the option to slip inside. and a couple seconds later he was in front of you again, opening the door widely and telling you that everything was okay. first then did you relax even slightly, entering with careful steps as if you were expecting to jump out of the shadows and murder you. mingi was right, your apartment was fine, but you weren’t. you hated this, hated that you didn’t even feel safe in your own home, and that there was nothing you could do about that.

mingi soon caught on to the fact that even though everything was fine you didn’t seem relaxed at all, looking around like a rabbit expecting the fox to jump out any moment and devour it. and it was your scared expression that made the words leave his mouth before he could stop himself.

“do you want me to stay the night?” you looked at him surprised, both at his words and at the fact that he was still there - you’d forgotten about him in your worry.

“you don’t have to.” you didn’t want to be even more of a bother. you didn’t want him to get annoyed at your scaredy cat-behaviour.

“but do you want me to?”

“you don’t have anything here.” really, you were just trying to come up with excuses for not directly answering his question, because the answer would have been a ‘yes’. yes, you did want him to stay the night, but you didn’t want him to do so because he felt like he had to.

“that’s fine. it’s just a night, and i only have late classes tomorrow. do you want me to?”

you couldn’t stand to look at him as you nodded, feeling weak and vulnerable and like a burden, but he just said ‘okay’, then got out his phone and started typing.

“i’m just letting them know”, he explained when he saw your questioning expression, and you nodded again. you felt slow, tired, and you just wanted to sleep. and yet once more he seemed to know exactly what you were thinking.

“you should go to bed”, he told you softly, “i’ll be right here.”

“you need sleep too!” it was first then you realised that you couldn’t offer him the luxury of choosing his bed for the night, that you couldn’t even offer him the luxury of having anything bigger than a single-person bed. but he didn’t seem to care, nodding.

“just get ready. i’ll wait.” and because you were way too tired to argue about anything at all, you just grabbed your pyjamas from your bed and left for the bathroom to get changed. you got into your pyjamas and wiped the worst stains off your face with a wet washcloth, but didn’t have the energy for anything else. this would have to do for today.

mingi was waiting for you on the floor when you got back, jacket, shirt and shoes huddled together next to him. maybe usually you’d have been a little flushed at him being shirtless, but in this moment all that mattered was getting into bed and sleeping. so you crawled underneath your blanket, moving as close to the wall as possible so he’d be able to still comfortably fit in next to you. he joined, pulling the blanket to cover both of you, and as soon as he’d done so you told him goodnight, him replying with a ‘goodnight’ of his own. he was fairly certain you’d fall asleep right away by how exhausted you seemed, but he found himself surprised when after roughly half an hour you were still tossing and turning.

“you okay?” he didn’t know if this was normal for you or something to be worried about, but he wanted to be sure you weren’t suffering silently just because you didn’t want to bother him.

“tell me something nice”, was what you replied instead of answering his question.

“what do you want to hear?”

“i don’t care. something happy.”

he thought for a moment before he started telling you about his seventh birthday, trying to remember as many details as possible so he’d have something to tell until you’d fallen asleep. his low, calm voice calmed your anxious heartbeat a little, and you stopped shifting so much. you did, however, scoot closer to him subconsciously, your back soon pressed against his chest as you sought out his comforting presence, his warmth. he wasn’t sure if you’d done it on purpose, so he didn’t immediately wrap his arm around you, softly putting his fingertips onto your waist first to wait for your reaction, to see if you’d shy away from his touch. but you did the opposite, grabbing his hand and pressing it close to your chest as if it was a lifeline keeping you from drowning. he just resumed his story, not commenting on it, and you were glad he didn’t. and cuddled up like that his deep, steady voice managed to lull you to sleep.

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atopearth · 4 years ago

Text

Collar X Malice Part 5 - Yanagi Aiji Route (including Criminal Chapter & Mini Review)

Time for the best looking guy Yanagi!! Okay, usually my favourite looking guy is never the route I like the most but we'll see how it goes! He's even got his own common route! Anyway, lmao at the glossary on Enomoto's relationship history, I find it hilarious how it says he's still haunted by the memory of his kindergarten teacher crush being married😂😂😂 HAHAHA, no wonder why Sasazuka doesn't have a good impression of Enomoto. Even on their first meeting, Enomoto gets his profession wrong and then he calls him tiny LOL. Way to be straightforward, I can imagine Sasazuka killing him in his mind already. On the other hand, Enomoto being a starstruck kid with Shiraishi's profiling job is so cute lol. Lmao at Sasazuka and Enomoto being nicknamed the Miso Soup Duo by Shiraishi because Enomoto calls Sasazuka seaweed, and initially Shiraishi called Enomoto Enoki loll. I'm really liking all the guys' first meeting! Especially how even though Sasazuka thinks Enomoto is an idiot, but could also understand and feel his sincerity towards the X-Day cases when they asked Enomoto what his motivations were. Well, it seems like Yanagi failed to protect someone a long time ago and that haunts him to this day, so I can see why he was so anxious over Ichika, and then so relieved to see she was alive (when they first met)🤔 I always felt like Yanagi knew Ichika, but it kinda got brushed to the side so I forgot, but now that he's actually asking her, I wonder where he met her... Yanagi's goal is as sweet as he is. To a certain extent, I have to agree with him that having a normal everyday life where you can talk with friends, eat what you want, go to work and then sleep soundly at night is something we should all be able to have, so Adonis taking that away from the people in Shinjuku makes him strive to return these "normal lives" back to the people. I guess that's understandable, I can't imagine the amount of stress all these people are under tbh. They're all stuck in Shinjuku, every adult has a gun, terrorists are everywhere with murder cases rampant, and the more cases that are discovered, the more the police's powers are questioned, as well as the discovery of more and more corruption within the police. No one feels safe, everyone wants a bit of their normal lives back so they try to live "normally" but at the same time it's not really their life because they're restricted, they're scared and they don't know if they'll even survive by the time X-Day comes.

Anyway, Yanagi is really so gentle and caring. Considering how patient Yanagi really is, it's kinda amusing how much he can't stand Okazaki lol. LMAO when Ichika asked Mukai and Sakuragawa if they were questioning her relationship with Shiraishi because they were interested in him😂😂 I can so imagine their absolute disgust lmao. Even though Kazuki doesn't have the best attitude, you really can't fault him for his sentiments. If December really is the last month they'll all get before X-Day then yeah, it would definitely be worse being stuck at home feeling too scared to go out and missing out on actually living your life, and honestly it's true, I mean that guy who was the game developer got killed at home, so really, staying at home doesn't guarantee your safety, the only thing that guarantees your safety is if you're not targeted and no one will really know if they are until they're about to be killed. When Kazuki said no one has never done anything wrong in their lives, so there's no guarantee that any of us could be safe, it really resonated with me because he's right. Everything has done something "wrong" at least once in their lives and Adonis is judging them for it on their own terms, meaning no one knows if they'll get judged or not because it's not like Adonis is very clear about what kind of people they target. I guess despite Kazuki's brashness, he does think quite a bit about Shinjuku's situation. But yeah, I don't blame Ichika, like dude, Kazuki goes out at 2am?! Yep, I'd be super worried. Anyway, one of the things I hate the most about starting a new route again is having to experience Kazuki and Ichika's bad relationship again. I honestly feel so hurt for Ichika every time he shouts at her saying she doesn't care about him, when he just doesn't notice that even though she's been busy and neglected him to an extent, she always makes sure to do stuff like make him breakfast, dinner etc and tries to communicate with him in the time she does have, whereas he has never made the effort to try to reach out to her and understand her life or situation. Honestly, if he ever just worried about her considering how much danger she's in as a police officer right now with Adonis and all the other crap going on, I would probably be less annoyed by how rebellious he is but really, he still aggravates me because of how inconsiderate and harsh she is. Anyway, I'm glad Ichika called Yanagi to go with her to check on Kazuki, and it was so nice of him to immediately come out to help her. Lmao when he asked Okazaki if he was there and he really was following them😂 HAHAHA, when Okazaki asked Ichika for her phone number and she looked at Yanagi to see if it was okay, and when he said yeah, Okazaki was like yay he got her dad's blessing lmaooo. Yanagi really is everyone's dad😂

How interesting though! Mochida and Ichika joining Investigations HQ to help out with the X-Day cases! I can understand why Ichika is so desperate though, honestly I always thought Ichika was never desperate enough in the other routes hahahaha. Ooh wow, so Yanagi couldn't shoot a criminal during his time as a policeman, and I guess that's probably related to this traumatic past and also Ichika's. Anyway, it's good that he puts a lot of weight to every life and doesn't believe in taking that away from a person, but yeah it would have been hard for him to continue as a policeman like that. Awwww, Ichika, Yanagi and the lost little girl holding hands looking for the girl's mother was sooo cuteeee!🥰🥰 I really liked how talking to Yanagi motivated Ichika to be more frank and honest with Kazuki and tell him what she couldn't before, as well as apologise for always just lecturing him and not trying to understand him. The CG with Yanagi touching her forehead checking if she has a fever and stuff after her "nightmare" was so pretty!! Yanagi has such beautiful CGs like dang, I love them all. Anyway, so great that she got to wake up to Yanagi's face hahahha, and food prepared by him too! It must feel pretty bad for Ichika...she so honestly told him she wanted to know more about him and be a proper partner with him for the investigations and he rejected her and pushed her away..

Akito's plight always breaks my heart. But hearing him so honestly telling Ichika that not only has he recently finally realised that what he hated most weren't the people who harassed his sister but instead himself, and then telling Ichika that he really really regrets joining Adonis, I couldn't help but feel so much pain for him. It's also because of Akito that makes me think that no matter how much I think those people who died in a sense "deserved" what happened to them, what Adonis does for people like Akito will never truly help them with what they truly need and want in their lives after what they suffered. Adonis only takes advantage of them and their weaknesses to do their personal bidding for their own personal revenge against society. No matter how pretty they make it sound as a rebirth of society and from corruption etc, all they're doing is using all the people who need the most help to hurt themselves and others in a pursuit of hatred and revenge. It also makes me think of Sanjou, that even though Adonis supposedly "helped" him with stuff like his revenge etc, in the end Sanjou didn't feel anything more from it than wanting to die. However, it's also undeniable that despite the result, I'm sure a part of these people would be relieved to have been "saved" by Adonis, and probably don't regret it like Akito. I mean, Sugawara Rika's torment was one that Adonis really helped to erase. One thing I always appreciate about Akito is that Kazuki's dreams and trust in Akito is always what makes Akito have the determination to go against Adonis, so it really makes me happy how much their friendship means to them and how much they cherish each other.

I was so happy that Ichika was there to help Yanagi continue to believe in his principles that you don't have to sacrifice people to save others, and that there can be ways to resolve situations without killing. I'm just happy that he didn't need to compromise himself in a state of confusion. As for Yanagi's past, it's something difficult for him to take considering even if it was ruled as self-defence back in the day (when he killed the guy who captured Ichika when she was young) it doesn't change the fact that he killed someone, so I'm sure that weighed heavily on him. I don't think many people would be able to stay the same after experiencing something like that. Just as Yanagi was saved by Ichika's words and could finally overcome a bit of the fear he had in shooting someone, him telling her how much he appreciated her encouraging him and helping him also relieved her of her own trembling fear in shooting in a real field and not just for target practice. I thought it was so cute how Yanagi admitted it was "his lost" and that he wants Ichika as his partner and wants to work hard together now. I'm not surprised that what happened at the Tokyo Metropolitan Building with the hostage situation was something Yanagi encountered before and that's why he found it difficult to face again, especially since in that incident, he continued to negotiate with the suspect even though he had orders to shoot him, and in the end the suspect got violent so others shot him anyway. Honestly, I'm sure that Yanagi understands that it must feel like naivety to want no one to die and not just prioritise "innocents" and "victims" knowing the danger that "criminals" can create especially when you're planted in such a situation, but I can understand a bit of Yanagi's sentiments. Tbh, it has always unsettled me whenever I think about criminals dying, and I understand that there are situations where it can't be helped, especially when it puts so many other people in danger and I would never arrogantly think that these people "could have done better" because I'm sure most people would rather not kill someone if they had the choice to not, but yeah digging into the thoughts and emotions of "criminals" have always been something I've been curious about a lot of my life. And of course even if we just capture criminals, we could probably never really "understand" why they did what they did anyway, but I do naively feel that as long as we keep trying, maybe we can find ways to create less of these situations where so many people wouldn't have to be so "hurt" and turn to crime. Of course, this would probably only apply to some "criminals" though since if crimes only stemmed from people who were hurt somehow in their lives, then things would probably be much simpler, but instead people's lives are complicated and what they choose to do would never come about from just one or two things that happened to them.

Anyway, considering Yanagi's thoughts, I agree with his decision to leave the police. With such doubts in his mind, I don't think he would be able to do what is expected of him, so instead of endangering others with his indecision, he might as well leave or take a break. And coupled with his desire to protect everything and new directives to prioritise shooting criminals performing acts related to X-Day, there's no way Yanagi would be able to stay with the police. And with that, I'm glad that Ichika was the one who was able to make Yanagi realise that alongside these ideals of his, he would still need to shoot people, even if it's not to cause death, but to protect others by disabling them from being able to cause danger. I think it's nice that Yanagi finally feels like he's actually moving forward from his fear of hurting people excessively. But yeah, seeing the past incident from Ichika's and Yanagi's perspectives was pretty daunting in the sense that Yanagi must have felt really bad that his actions caused the kidnapper to become violent with Ichika, and he felt responsible for needing to protect her and save her even more. His reckless and thoughtless actions led to that, and because he was "weak", he knew that if he wanted to protect Ichika properly, he needed to do everything he could to save her, and that meant killing the guy to make it impossible for him to do anything to them anymore. Yanagi was only a high school kid too, so that must have broken him so much. Ooh the kidnapper guy isn't dead, he's the guy in a coma that Yanagi has been visiting for 10 years! I'm surprised that no one took Yanagi to a therapist even if it was ruled as self-defence and he was a minor... It's so adorable how Yanagi was so concerned about whether Okazaki hit on Ichika, he had to message her again in the middle of the night after talking about the serious stuff before lol. I'm not sure if I'm being super suspicious but I feel like Mochida is a part of Adonis haha, sorry if I'm wrong since he's so nice😅 Saeki is expected since I kinda got spoiled haha but I've always wondered about him ever since he said in the beginning of the game that he admired Ichika's ideals or something haha. I'm glad that Yanagi told Ichika that just because Saeki is most likely the one who collared her, she doesn't need to think or deny everything she knows about him, and that if she wants to believe he has his own reasons, she should hear those first before thinking that everything was a lie.

I'm kinda shocked at how ruthlessly Saeki poisoned Ichika with the collar...but I guess I shouldn't be surprised since there were other times he killed her in those bad endings... Anyway, Mikuni's mother being a part of the religious cult that was kinda where Adonis originated is interesting...I wonder what exactly is the difference between Mikuni and Saeki now that Mikuni is willing to discard Saeki to save himself and his other followers? It's so nice of Kazuki care so much about Ichika btw~ Those moments are always so nice and worth it. On the other hand, as usual, Yanagi's CGs are so so beautiful! I love how upfront they are with each other with wanting to hold hands and get some physical support from the other. They're so cute~ It's interesting how Saeki has the same goal as Yanagi, which is to restore normal everyday life to everyone, but I guess mostly for the "weaker" people who have been oppressed and he'll just destroy the other "evil" people who interrupt that peace. Well, aside from it being problematic that he'll probably kill a lot of the population depending on what he regards as evil, but I can understand his sentiments to an extent. If most of the people he wants to get rid of are like people who "destroyed" Sanjou and his other colleagues' lives, or all those stalkers that basically made Sugawara paranoid and crazy, then yeah definitely understandable, but I still think people like Fujii are worth turning things around for. Yeah, Fujii made a lot of mistakes, abused his power and connections, oppressed others to elevate himself, and it's understandable if the ones involved like Isshiki and Ogata never forgave him, but seeing him sincerely regret his actions and want to repent, and continuously go to apologise to Isshiki and do what he can to make amends makes me believe that Saeki obviously thinks everyone is irredeemable. Fujii was terrible, and he can never give back what he took, but he had the potential again to give to others what he gave Enomoto, and I think that's something only someone who has learnt from their mistakes will much more appreciate in doing imo anyway.

Mikuni and Saeki seem much closer than it felt from the other routes, I guess that makes it all the more saddening that he died in Shiraishi's route. Sometimes I wonder if it's more saddening to be Mikuni, the person who has been so close to Saeki all this time and still not feel like he had truly understood him, or would it be more saddening to be Saeki and feel that Mikuni has been by his side all this time but still not really understand what he really wanted? I guess it's sad for both sides... It was really sad to see Mukai cry over Shiraishi, I honestly still feel like she's a better match for Shiraishi than Ichika but that's not important right now haha, but I do enjoy seeing how much it affected Mukai and how much she respects him even if she hates him at the same time lol. I'm so happy that Yanagi finally properly responded to Ichika's feelings!! I'm happy that he's finally come to terms with the idea that he can be selfish and happy as well, like it took a while, but it was honestly worth it with how the confession and everything went, it was so adorable and it really felt like Yanagi could fully desire a future with Ichika. Aww, I love how even Sasazuka made time to come to Enomoto's Christmas party (well Yanagi made the food though but yeah lolol). HAHAHA, I love how Yoshinari noticed something was going on with Yanagi and Ichika (when she told him to stop smoking so much since he's been smoking even more these days), and so Yanagi admitted to it by kissing her on the cheek in front of everyone hahahahaha! It was so funny how Yanagi was blushing after doing that lmaoo. And I died when Enomoto screamed that Yanagi was so cool😂😂 I love how supportive Enomoto is all the time, and I guess Sasazuka as well with his tsundere-ness lol~ Yanagi calling her Ichika instead of Hoshino was so cuteee~ Anyway, I'm kinda disappointed with how Saeki was...handled? Like, considering how much it was the core of the story for Ichika to be the one who was supposed to in a sense "truly understand" and succeed Saeki's ideals, I honestly wanted to hear more of what Saeki desired. Like yeah, he wanted to erase all sorrow and honestly it's understandable, especially when he said to Yanagi and them that there are people who are too weak to be like those who are "strong" and can continue to face forward and power through their "sorrow", because really, if everyone really could soldier on through their sorrow, then no one would be truly "unhappy". Anyway, I just felt it was pretty underwhelming to have Saeki to be the "mastermind" but he probably has less screentime than the other villains in the other routes lol. Otherwise, Yanagi giving a ring to Ichika was so adorable, I love how literally everyone is so curious about their love that they would all go to peek on them lmao. The other endings are pretty interesting, but honestly wayy too short to really feel anything about them. I think the crazed Ichika that wanted to lock up Kazuki and Yanagi so that they would never get hurt from Adonis was amusing.

The Criminal Chapter is kinda interesting, but I think they might have been more useful in the chapters themselves than separately, since I feel like, if you felt something for them, then this only solidifies it, but if you didn't, then nothing can really change your opinion of them now. Personally, I've always liked quite a few of them though, so I did appreciate Ogata being fleshed out with the departure of his wife, I think it's more saddening that what caused her to leave wasn't really because she lost faith in Ogata himself but because she couldn't handle the pressure from everything that came from it. But yeah I think that would have made him a more empathised character in Enomoto's route, since I feel like in the route, they focused more on him hating the police and justice itself rather than exploring directly his pain itself, which I think would have made him a more interesting villain for that route. Hana didn't change for me, because it was pretty expected, considering how "normal" her reason was, her obsession and craziness was probably the worst, and probably the most uncomfortable to watch because out of all the victims, Enomoto's relation to Fujii and hearing about his story really made Fujii's death that much more personal. Akito's was definitely really tragic, because seeing Akito's attitude towards his sister before her death, and even calling her creepy like all the other bullies did made me further understand how much Akito hated himself the most. I always feel so bad for Sugawara though, I can't imagine these stalkers scrutinising every moment of her life, hindering her work, all her friends and everything, I honestly think I would want to just die to get away from all that. As for Souda... Honestly, the way Sasazuka captured Souda in his route still kinda haunts me, and reading a bit more about his past solidifies how uncomfortable I felt having to see Souda experience all he did in Sasazuka's route. I know it's not a healthy way to handle things and his problems, but I think by being able to personally understand how much a game could "save" you, and then having that betray you because of something that isn't your fault and then being hated for it really hurt. Shion and Suzune got a lot of screentime in Shiraishi's route, so yeah nothing much to say that I haven't said tbh.

Something I think I would have really appreciated in Okazaki's route would be seeing more about how Sanjou and the other officers despaired over the physical and mental abuse they suffered at work from their superiors. Sanjou's feelings still got across to me though so I guess it was good enough, but I think it would have nice to delve deeper into how terrible the environment was, and how much hope Sanjou lost because this was the police itself that was destroying them, so where could they even turn? Considering how important Saeki and Mikuni's meeting 10 years ago should have been, and their ideals and everything, it's a bit frustrating to have to see it in this chapter that's not a part of the actual main story. Also, considering how much Mikuni being the prime minister's son was a big deal, and the assassination attempt years ago, you would assume the story would at least talk about the prime minister himself to get a gauge of his image and stuff, but this is also only loosely explored in this criminal chapter lol. But through this, I think I can better understand why Mikuni and Saeki can never really "understand" each other. Which can already be kinda described through their respective lives with Mikuni being strong in the sense that even though he grew up with most things people would wish to have, he chooses to discard all that to fight for a more equal world, whereas Saeki's determination was never something that stemmed from "choice", Saeki's desires seemed to be more fuelled by the pressure of survival in itself, and that's why Mikuni will never be able to understand his desperation, and also how truly personal it is to be fighting for the "weak" who just aren't strong enough to properly fight or do something about their situation, such as his mother. I really liked the CG of all the executors at the end though~

MINI REVIEW Overall, I really did like Collar X Malice. There's a lot of things I felt a bit weird about such as Shiraishi's ending, how boring Ichika became in the second half of Sasazuka's route, lack of exploration into Saeki's character etc, but I still really enjoyed it! I think what I loved most was definitely the individual cases themselves, because exploring police corruption and the unfairness in society by "victims" who felt like they were forced to rely on Adonis to solve their problems and injustice was interesting and emotionally engaging. I empathised with a lot of them and especially liked Akito and Sanjou since something about them really resonated with me, it was probably their sadness tbh. A lot of them lash out in anger towards the "perpetrators" so I think seeing Sanjou and Akito just so "done" with this world and so sad about how they were forced to view themselves, their place in this world and how the world has treated them kinda broke my heart. Honestly, I liked all of them except Hana lol. As for Saeki, I didn't really feel much for him even after getting to know more about his story and relationship with Mikuni. Maybe my opinion might change after I play Collar X Malice: Unlimited since there's apparently an Adonis route lol, but yeah, honestly after all the fleshed out (most of them) "villains" in each route, it's kinda "funny" how shallow Saeki was portrayed imo even though I thought his ideals for helping the "weak" was an interesting idea. Anyway, as for the LIs, this is surprising (and kinda funny) but my favourite was definitely Enomoto. Whenever people mention CxM, it's always about Shiraishi and Sasazuka, so I had no expectations at all for Enomoto but I loved him SO MUCH. Not kidding at all, because every time I read his route, I couldn't stop smiling or laughing because he was so cute, earnest, sincere and funny. He's honestly not even the type I like because Yanagi is my favourite type lmao, but I loved Enomoto to the max. He and Ichika play off each other really well and in a cute way. The funny thing is that usually my favourite type usually has a boring route, but surprisingly I really liked Yanagi's route too! I think exploring Yanagi's weakness, guilt and inability to move forward properly was more interesting than I thought it would be and I really enjoyed how he and Ichika interacted. Honestly, I reallyyyy like Okazaki as an LI but I found his route rather boring until the end lol, and even though Sasazuka was kinda cute and less mean than I thought, I found that the "fire" Ichika had towards others in other routes wasn't present with Sasazuka and it kinda felt like she just followed him around in the second half lol. As for Shiraishi, it's funny how he's so mysterious but has such a "wholesome" route for the most part until the end lol, but yeah anyway, he wasn't my type in terms of looks, personality, story or anything so yeah... Lol. Overall, I would rate the game an 8/10! Enjoyable and probably one of the "better” otome out there with a good story~

#collar x malice

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lipstickbisous · 5 years ago

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the rei brown series (2/3)

OUR LOVE REMAINS.

notes: here’s the second part!! one more after this haha. not much of a plot to these just meant to put you in your feels. butttttt, i did write this from the experience my mom had in the icu when she was a nurse.

this one is your p.o.v. and is a little bit longer but not much

i DID NOT KNOW if anyone would get offended by “latino” or “hispanic” so i used both im sorry.

LISTEN for better understanding.

also u guys REALLY LIKED the din fic so i guess...more of those?

pairing: javier peña x reader

summary: while rethinking all of the choices you’ve made in your life, memories of a certain person begin to flood in.

warnings: MORE ANGST ahahaha, childhood nostalgia, fluff ending

word count: 3.3k (these are not long chapters)

masterlist

you weren’t sure what time it was (you knew it wasn’t too late) and you hadn’t bothered to check as you stumbled through your doorway, one arm holding grocery bags and the other, your purse and papers from work. your hair had been stuck in the ponytail you threw it up in since the morning, but now, it was pulling at your scalp and giving you a headache.

managing to balance on one foot, you flipped the light switch in your entryway and watched as the first floor of your house illuminated in the night. the tiny dog you’d adopted a few months ago came padding out on the wood floors from the dining room, his tongue stuck out with loud pants to relieve himself of the texas summer heat.

with a small “hey, bub,” to your pet, you placed the groceries on the kitchen counter and slipped off your clogs, throwing them at the bottom of your stairs so that you could be reminded to take them to your room when you went upstairs. for now, you reached into the glass cabinet and grasped a dark bottle of wine. the label read a fancy word in french, but growing up in kingsville, you’d never bothered to learn the language of love. you grew up in that rich latino and hispanic culture.

this house had memories threatening to let it crumble, you knew that, but even after your parents had moved into a smaller apartment due to medical reasons and the fact that they couldn’t afford the house, you couldn’t bring yourself to move out of this town and just ditch them there--now the house was in your name. you didn’t know why it was so hard to leave--you’d been able to leave for university, but when you came back the summer after you’d graduated, something stuck. now, it had been twenty years and you had made no attempts to even leave kingsville.

you popped the cork of the wine bottle open and instantly met that musky historic smell of the red alcohol. you had seven wine glasses in your cupboards, but you never had any friends over. you might occasionally invite a few girls you knew in high school, but if you were to hang out with people, it would be at a bar on friday and saturday nights. you watched as the wine splashed around the glass and when it was filled to your satisfaction, you pushed the cork back into its place and left the bottle on the counter.

as you made your way into the living room and collapsed on the couch, the little dog you called yours jumped up onto the high furniture the best he could due to his tiny legs. you searched your couch for the remote, pulling over the cushions and pillows before finding it buried under the arm. you switched the tv on and and flipped through the channels before settling on fifty-one. your dog curled up next to your lap and closed his eyes to sleep.

you didn’t for what you were sure was the next two hours. the movie that had been playing before ended the beginning of a new one had started until you realized your glass was empty and dry and your eyelids were getting heavier. you leaned your head back before rethinking how the day had gone. you’d shown up to the hospital for work at the crack of dawn and spent the next twelve hours wheeling around patients, taking diagnostics, and carrying their dirty dishes.

it definitely had not been the job you imagined when you were ten. you’d played doctor with your stuffed animals and plushes before but in those scenarios, the patients had been obedient in kind. unfortunately, fate had not been so kind and, while sitting in front of the television with an empty wine glass in your hand, your fingers grazing over the sore spot on your wrist. it was sure to be bruised, the one on your calf had turned purple and yellow in the past few days. you hissed when you applied just a bit too much pressure.

i spent four years at a college i hated to have this. you’d put it all on the line to have this job. you thought that by being a nurse in the fucking icu, you’d be saving people everyday. instead, you were groped, spat out, and ignored by everyone there. you deserved a glass of wine every night.

you knew that this was not healthy at all and that you were intoxicating yourself with far too much alcohol but the way your back ached, your calf bruised, and your head pounded drowned out whatever warnings your brain sent you.

suddenly, you managed to catch sight of the atomic clock sitting on your kitchen counter. bright crimson letters read “1:30 am.”, and with a far too heavy sigh that awoke the small dog next to you, you set the glass on your coffee table (you’d grab it in the morning when you weren’t so sad) and flipped the tv off before sauntering up the stairs. even at your age, you had still been terrified of the dark--you could barely walk down to your basement without a flashlight and by yourself--but you found that you were perfectly fine walking in the pitch-black of your upstairs hallway. your dog was quick to follow behind you, jumping onto your bed and waiting for you as you emotionlessly entered your bathroom and looked at your reflection.

who the fuck were you? how much time had passed and yet here you were, in your fucking childhood home all alone? you’d found love with many men over the years, but you hadn’t expected them to last--and they hadn’t. what had you done? had you left some sort of imprint in the world at all? you were never one for kids, everyone you knew was well aware of that, but how were you supposed to live on even when you were dead? in reality, abandonment and loneliness was your worst fear along with--

oh god, you thought in a shriveled voice. you’re gonna be forgotten.

one part that hurt the most was the news. you’d gotten better at keeping up to date with pop culture and politics, and the pablo escobar situation had you worried for one reason and one reason only--javier peña. you’d seen him on the news, the DEA agent who had made it his responsibility and top priority to catch the famous drug lord. it was nice to see that he had gotten somewhere while the only time you’d ever really traveled was to paris for a christmas and then LA to see an old friend who you didn’t even talk to anymore.

this was your life now. mindlessly wandering around your house after work, eating microwaved leftovers and carry-out from the diner.

god, that diner. it had been one of your favorite locations in the shitty town you called home--had been. the first time you went, you were suspicious due to the fact that the actual building was a different restaurant owned by a criminal before it was a diner, but javier had practically begged you to have a late dinner with him after an afternoon spent skipping your last few periods and driving around the outskirts of town in his truck. the wind had been blowing through your hair and you hung your head out of his window, letting your arms wave around, and you could’ve sworn you had felt him looking at you.

that was the moment you were in love with javier peña.

you knew that you had been lying to yourself up until that moment because since the first day you met javier when driving past their ranch and stopping to look at the horses, you’d been in love. you couldn’t even think about how many days were spent writing poetry about him that now seemed stupid and childish. you’d told yourself it was an outlet for your feelings, but you had really written it because you were too much of a bitch to come out and tell javi. maybe that hadn’t been your fault--you’d witnessed, first hand, javier rejecting a girl in sixth grade. you watched her nod and tell him “oh, that’s okay” but then run away into the bathrooms. javier had continued on to tell you about a new foal on their farm.

you remembered the horses. you missed them too. if it hadn’t been them roaming about in the pastures, or the great stallion that caught your attention while on that family car ride, you would’ve never met javier. you weren’t sure if he judged you for it or not, but every time chucho needed help around the farm, and javier was too much of a brat and a teenager to do it, you had gladly offered. so, chucho peña had put you in charge of the foals. there was one in particular, a small one with a white coat, that had piqued your interest. there was a day, one in the middle of the summer if you could remember correctly, where you and javi had just run out to the fields while the rest of the horses stayed in their stables. javi had been excited since his father had gifted him with a new camera, and he had spent all day taking pictures of--and to this day, you still didn’t notice it--only you.

while brushing your teeth, carefully placing a small dot of paste on your toothbrush, you began to scrub in small circles. how long had it been since you and javi had last talked? even then, it had barely been a conversation. a simple exchanged of very few words, a goodbye that went misheard, and that was it. when you had called his home phone the next morning, instead of javi replying like he always did, it had been chucho’s voice instead, muffling an annoyed “hello?” but when he heard the exhaustion and lightness of your voice, he carefully explained that javi had already left.

you hadn’t felt heartbroken--not at first. in fact, there was barely any sadness in that tired head and upset stomach. you were infuriated. how could he? how dare he? he had been such a coward that he couldn’t even say goodbye and it angered you more than you thought it ever would--not that you had ever thought about javier leaving before because he said he wouldn’t even consider it. and now, he had left you alone your fucked up hometown that you’d always told him you hated so much. then, about three days alone without javier (which was something you weren’t used to) you’d realized that there was a large possibility this could’ve been your fault.

had you been a bad friend recent to his leaving? yes, you had been acting distant, but it was due to normal events, such as school and...the fact that you were hopelessly in love with him. it had been harder to talk with senior year ending and college coming up, but you hadn’t never thought he could just turn himself away like that. never.

and not once had javi tried to contact you. he, of course, knew your number by heart, but after all these years, he’d probably had hundreds of girls phone numbers--in fact, you were sure that if hadn’t been a DEA agent hooked with the most dangerous man on the earth, you would’ve expected him to be married already. you had gone to the wedding. you’d seen how the church was decorated, how each and every guest wore plastered smiles--just the idea of seeing javi made you giddy and you’d worn your best dress you could find. even after returning from university, javier didn’t visit or call. you also remembered hearing lorraine sobbing when her groom didn’t show.

javier was not the type of person to stand someone up. you didn’t know what he was like now, but as teenagers, if he ever had a date (which wasn’t often because even if you didn’t know it, he was hopelessly in love with you) he would arrive five minutes early.

the one time javi did have a date, you stayed home and watched one of his favorite movies while crying. you hated to admit that the next day, when he admitted to you he didn’t like the girl that much, you were excited.

suddenly, you remembered how this was completely your fault. you had always blamed javier for never calling or writing, but then you realized that you had never made the attempt either.

“fuckin’ hell,” you whispered and washed off your toothbrush. as a nurse, you didn’t normally cake yourself with makeup, but you did wear the average concealer, mascara, and lipstick or gloss. you took one look at your reflection and noticed that your mascara was currently running. when did i cry? you asked yourself and exited the bathroom, not bothering to remove your makeup.

your room was next door and when you walked inside, your dog was patiently waiting next to your nightstand and- god, did i leave the fucking light on again? you felt like slapping yourself until your head was straight because it wasn’t right to think about someone you haven’t seen in twenty years.

you slipped off your pants, leaving you in expensive panties you’d gotten for no reason at all. you threw off your scrubs, discarding them onto the floor with a light air sound and replacing your shirt with a tank-top. your bed had been so perfectly made that it almost annoyed you. you threw yourself onto your bed and began to rub your eyes. it wouldn’t matter if you messed up the mascara because there was nothing to mess up.

hoping the sleep would rid you of the horrible thoughts, you flipped the lamp next to your bed off and pressed a pillow to your cheek. the small dog at your feet curled up rested his eyes. you did the same.

it would’ve been physically best for your health if you had gone at least six hours of sleeping without any interruption, but one moment in the night, the phone on your nightstand began to blare its ringtone. your eyes shot open and began to burn slightly from a sudden awakening. the sound had scared your dog, who jumped to the ground in protection of whatever the source was until he realized it was the telephone. you groaned with heavy eyelids and looked to the clock. two-twenty five am. as soon as you went to answer the call, it went to dial tone.

more frustrated than before because you really just wanted to sleep, you groaned and flung yourself back into bed. of course, now you were awake.

but then, the phone began to ring again. it had seemed louder this time and your dog barked in the most un-intimidating way possible before you threw a pillow at the spot next to him to get him quiet. you held the phone close to your ear and spoke a tired, “hello?” the line was silent and at first, you were terrified because you could’ve sworn you heard someone breathing. another one of these. “hello?”

part of this was exciting to you. while it was extremely frustrating to be awoken a few hours before you normally rose to get ready for work, your mind was racing during the silent pause between you and this stranger. who could it be? perhaps it was chucho telling you that javier could be coming home, but you cursed yourself for thinking of that man and dismissed the idea. maybe it was your mom calling to tell you how your father had gotten better and, for now at least, the cancer was gone.

“(y/n)?”

―

while the reason behind it remained unclear, you had always loved airports. the cleaning-product smell, the diverse people, the small restaurants, even the feeling of the carpet--or the feeling of that when in an airport, you were going somewhere.

it had always been about going somewhere. javier knew this since fifth grade, that you had always wanted to just leave kingsville, texas. maybe you would move to new york, or philadelphia, or even go to london and paris. they had been silly daydreams due to reading too many of your mother’s travel books, but paris had always looked so nice. maybe even visit mexico--you’d already been well immersed in the culture.

but that wasn’t why you were here. you were here for something that was long overdue.

after the phone call that night, you javier had made sure to call each other every other day at ten o’clock pm. there had been some days where you had to stay late at the hospital or javi was chasing sicarios and didn’t get home until midnight--those nights, you would either fall asleep or just call the next day, but you both had made a good schedule. it definitely hadn’t been the same as when you were teenagers, and you didn’t expect it to be. his voice was much deeper and raspier (you knew it was because of the cigarettes, you could practically smell them through the phone) and his voice wasn’t as...lively anymore. you felt that you couldn’t say much, though, because the years had been rough to you as well.

he had told you everything. your thoughts on how he was living was wrong--he told you of the countless informants and prostitutes, how the colombian sun was definitely hotter than the texan sun and even to him it had made a difference. when you both had too much to drink and were passing back funny stories, his was that he had grown a mustache. you had laughed at that one because if you could imagine the clean-shaved, teenage boy that javier once was with a mustache, it was a hilarious thought.

all-in-all, it had still been painful to talk to someone you knew so well like they were a stranger. at first, you had asked yourself if he’d changed but you caught yourself in the stupid thought. of course, he had changed. it had been twenty fucking years and even you had noticed the faint lines starting to appear around your face.

it had taken almost half a year of phone calls, missed and attended, happy and sad to be where you were now.

the airport bustling had also been one of your favorite things too. the countless and various voices all coming together to make a white noise that was so distinct.

you were standing near the entrance, watching as families reunited, lovers embraced, and yet you stood alone. it had been over ten minutes since when javier was supposed to show. if you were being honest with yourself, what did you expect? he would just appear out of thin air in the middle of a crowd? you hoped the flight from bogotá had been peaceful and well. there hadn’t been any storms passing by, baggage loading problems, or anything that could possibly delay the plane, so there was no reason for javier not to be there.

unless...you began to think and it had been too late to stop yourself from completing the thought. maybe he just didn’t want to.

like when he rejected that girl in sixth grade. like when he left you alone in kingsville. like when abandoned his bride at their own fucking wedding.

suddenly, you felt angry. your blood was boiling, your hands felt hot, the hair on your neck became irritating, and the winter heat of texas began to scorch, even in air conditioning. you ran a hand down your face, feeling two beads of sweat trickle down a path to your chin. your foot, which had been tapping for the past now fifteen minutes turned on its heel as you made your way to the glass doors.

your car was just outside. you wouldn’t even have to walk that far, and then you could drive home, cry yourself to sleep, and call javier about this some other time.

“(y/n)!”

tags: @pascalisthepunkest @javierpenaspinkshirt @gummiishark @cyarikaaa @larakasser @pedropasscals @honeyedspace @talesfromtheguild @absurdthirst

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alovevigilante · 4 years ago

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(Warning: responsible over explanation out of fear of judgement from others forthcoming... thank you in advance, the management of Kari keillor, that’s me.)

My informed precursor to my personal process (re: this writing piece): in my opinion and from my own personal experience, before you try any unfamiliar therapy on yourself, it’s good to have support, from both yourself, and a professional versed with the ability to also support you, guide you through any eventuality of feelings you may experience, and remind you, that you can decide to be present, and focused on that, at any point.

Before you read this piece, you will be triggered by its message or not, depending on your beliefs. These upcoming words are my own experiences from my specific filter, given to you, with love. Please be responsible and respectful of me, and yourself after reading them, by not being hyper critical. Is Kari keillor even allowed to share her POV without her own judgements? We’ll see. Read on, or not.

Wait! Now how are you reading this? What is your personal filter saying to you about my writing all of this so far? Are you defensive because I created a space for truth about people’s judgements including my own prior to your reading my opinions about my upcoming writing? Or, are you still open minded to my thoughts? Are you still here reading this, or did you blow me off a long time ago? Did you look at my selfie and make assumptions about me, and who I am? Or, are you open to hearing me speak about whatever it is that I’m going to? Will I ever know how you, the reader, feels about any of this? Do you know how I’m feeling as I type this? Are you sure you do, if you do? What’s my intention? I told you it was love, but do you believe me? Why am I asking all this? Why, out of fear of rejection, and a little bit of messing with you, of course. How did that make you feel? I don’t feel good about it, cause it’s not really me. It’s the defensive me. So, let’s try again with a more loving energy shift.

Trust, in the self and then subsequently in others, is the key to the Allowing love in, and that is the key, to all of my aforewritten blather. When you trust, you release your resistance to love. You are then capable of seeing things from a more positive and yes, beautiful new place. You can I’ll be able to look at old situations with a new loving perspective and energy. You will recognize the love in others. Allowing yourself to experience love, is the support you need from you, to finally kick the shit in your mind, whatever that may be blocking you from communing with others and yourself and just be happy. That means, to support your opinions, by not judging yourself, or prejudging your audience thinking they will also judge you too. And even if they don’t, you’ll most likely think they are anyway, because that’s how fear works. Fear, is a specific filter that messes with your solar plexus chakra. That is where your self esteem is housed.

Now, If I was really worried about how I was going to be experienced by others I probably wouldn’t write publicly to begin with, and sometimes I don’t, as I also keep a journal. If I was truly upset about what others thought, I may say, “I will now delete all the rest of the shit I wrote below, because I’m not attached to it. I’m going to choose, to love myself out of fear, and not share any of me with anyone ever again. But first, I’m going to take the next 2:13 seconds to finish on the treadmill, because sometimes I write while I’m on it.” Then I may say, “Ok. I’ve completed my work out, and I’m sitting on the treadmill, writing again.” And I did say and so all of those things. And now, I’ve thought better about deleting anything, because everything I was, even my fears, has made me the me I am sitting here writing now, and you know what? I’m a pretty decent chick, and I deserve to be treated better by me. So I will preempt myself next time, and not even get this far, in my mental negative self talk, prejudging myself and others. Maybe I’ll use that my time more productively next time. Maybe I’ll eat a twizzler, and dream about what feeling I actually DO want in my life as opposed to fearing and entertaining the feelings that I don’t want, and then by thinking it, I will inadvertently feel better, or something much more fun like that. Yes. That.....

I love to write. I love to share my feelings, my thoughts, and my experiences around all of it with you. So, instead of being defensive about my upcoming thoughts, I’m going to allow you, the reader, to create your own thoughts about what I wrote, because I trust in the process, that the messages will get to the right directions they need to. Thanks for listening, and thanks for letting me let my hair down about all this. 😉💕

Bed head goals. Rainbow colors, all represented. Even orange. See, that’s life. Everyone, is included, but not everyone is equally aware of that fact. Everyone is family. I am not speaking specifically about the family you were born into or married into, or choose to cohabitate with. I am speaking of the family of the human race. We are all interconnected. How do you treat your family? Do you relate to people as you perceive they feel about you? Do you hold grudges? Do you treat people, as you last remembered them to be? Did you cryogenically freeze people in time in your head according to how you felt, at that certain time in your life? Do you remember the good things? Do you care about how you feel now?

I do. I care about how I feel. Right now, in this moment I’m choosing to. So I’ve decided to do that, right now, and stop answering those questions. Because the answer to them all, is to choose love. A loving feeling, a loving thought, a loving action. That’s the process to recognizing every one and everything as family. A functional family... 😉

In the moments before this one, as I wrote, I was recalling, thinking, about how I do all those things, in a more personal way. And how I felt as I recalled those specific memories, wasn’t great. For some people, it may have been good memories they were reviewing in their minds. But if you’re anything like me, most of the things you recall about your past, aren’t so very helpful or fun to think about, due to some outward situations and experiences, but underneath that, how I felt about myself at the time.

I was in therapy some years back, and we did this exercise called, “internal family systems model” or “IFSM” (1) for short, where we (my therapist and I) linked my feelings in my body or my thoughts to specific times in my life, and labeled them as parts of my former self.

For example, I would close my eyes and breathe into a relaxed state, and connect to my 15 year old self that couldn’t articulate the feelings she felt at that time, but I was holding beliefs as my current self deriving from that specific time in my life. Sometimes I would feel a pain or a physical symptom that turned into a memory I had from the past. Then, I would feel into that memory as it would arise, and explore it with the younger me that experienced it.

I would describe it as a kind of like a deliberate reverse Sybil situation, where as sybil was a dissociative case, I was fully conscious and chose to experience, as was completely aware of the process, and was able to return to a more normal, and integrated state after each session. It was an associative process for me. It’s a conditioning of the mind, where the goal, is union of the self. The purpose was to pinpoint my specific feelings in my physical body, and talk to them as if they were separate from me, because in a sense they were, by my subconscious choice out of self protection. Some of me was not on board with the me I am today, because they were stuck in the hurt of the past, and the feelings I was holding. And sometimes not on purpose, these younger parts of me were hindering me with my old stories and beliefs about myself, from fully realizing the me I wanted to be now.

The work was invaluable, and I’m extremely proud of my internal work that I’ve done. I was able to go back to my specific memories, and to the me I was at the time. I would discuss things with the younger me, and ask what the younger me needed to share with me, and to consciously choose to care for myself, council myself, and send myself love.

Sometimes it took awhile to develop the trust between the younger me, and the now older me, to reveal things even to myself. All of those feelings of hurt and pain that I held inside for years. Why the younger me felt the way she/ I did. How different as we, a whole Kari, are now, and how I can listen, to my own needs, and care for my parts of me that didn’t feel loved or appreciated back then; because I wasn’t capable at the time to show up in a supportive and loyal way for them at the time I felt hurt, betrayed or abandoned by myself. It took awhile, but I eventually came to a place of understanding from within myself, to get really honest, and then trust again. You, are also a person that feels, you. Ignoring yourself, is ignoring the person that you are the closest to.

I choose to create inner peace, with self love and kindness. I support myself, by telling those parts that act out in hurt or shame, that I still love, me. I sometimes don’t have to say a word, but I make a conscious effort to connect directly to those feelings inside of myself, and offer myself, a chance to heal, with space and love. It’s not the usual technique that people do, but I believe it helped me connect to the parts of me that felt betrayed by my former actions and thoughts, and allowed me a chance to get on the same page with where I’m at today, in a healthier way. It’s a fantastic coping mechanism for regaining the trust you need to rebuild, from within.

I honestly believe that that, regaining trust within the individual, is the key to healing the planet, and here’s how; the love cannot be recognized, understood or internalized by you, until you trust you. The trust is what allows you to let go of harsh judgements and beliefs, and allows the inner love, to be both created and experienced. If you do not trust yourself to feel love, you will act out accordingly. You won’t trust another person to have your best interest at heart. You won’t be able to feel love, even if that is the way it was intended for you.

So, the first step to experiencing love, is developing a better, more honest relationship with you. Go into the places you feel, and see. Sometimes it shows up physically. For me, it was in my throat. I felt constricted at times, like I couldn’t articulate how I wanted to verbally. I still feel that way sometimes. Writing, for me, has been a serious blessing, that I appreciate. I do it a lot. It helps me sort out my feelings on a way that I can understand, and externalize. It’s a form of self expression that allows me the time and the space, to get really honest with myself, and about my feelings. And some of those feelings, are old stories that don’t serve the current me anymore.

I found doing the parts work, that the loudest voices that I thought, meaning my loudest thoughts, were always the most hurtful to me, and others. They were what I called, “judges” and “the stenographers”. I realized they served a very important purpose in the grand scheme of me, and that purpose was to protect the smaller, younger parts of me that didn’t have a voice, or were afraid to speak their pain. The judges didn’t realize they were hurting me. But my self talk was this constant reminding of hurtful things past. The stenographers would remind me, in full detail what had previously been recorded, in order to never allow that to happen again. Only, that act of reminding was and still is, holding me back from trusting other people because of it. The judges concurred, and cast their verdicts according to the perception of the stenographer’s recounting.

I was internally protected alright, but not in a way where I could comfortably connect with others. I’m still having an issue with connection myself, as my stenographers do a very excellent and thorough job, or reminding me over and over, and over again, what I have experienced, all of my old, unhelpful stories. And anything else I didn’t know, I surmised, and filled in the blanks, usually negatively. And my judges are great too, and on it, and they cut that shit right out of my life alright, but unfortunately not out of my head. And it’s always my decision, to allow them to do it, until I decide to focus, on a new, and better story that I myself, create. So essentially I had to work backwards. I went from my life in the present, to my current actions, to my own old beliefs, to my own old thoughts, to my own old experiences around those thoughts, to my old feelings. I have decided to bypass that now, when I can, and just decide to focus on feeling better whatever that takes. It’s the current deliberate energy shift to better that changes feelings. And everything looks better, from that vantage point.

Retelling ourselves old stories, serves to keep us in a very uncomfortable place. As we grow, and we all do, what fit our lives to think and believe about ourselves and others, don’t always stay the same. The more we live, and the more experiences we have, the more we develop resolute ideas to create a semi false sense of stability on the inside. “Well, I’ve talked to her before... she’s weird....” or, “I know her type, she’s not cool.” Whatever judgements we cast upon others, we have felt and experienced ourselves in some capacity. It always starts, and ends, with us as individuals, and how we’ve felt, and how we choose to feel, next.

People can only truly believe what they have experienced or can truly connect to, and not necessarily what they have learned or heard from others. So the recognition that we are all interconnected is the first step to healing the world, but the precursor to that, is recognition of the self, and taking responsibility for how we as individuals feel. The healing must begin there first, otherwise our individual perceptions will always reflect on others, what we feel about ourselves. The basic need for belonging is in all of us. We are social beings, in need of feeling loved. If we start there, and are kinder to ourselves with our self talk, and how we choose to feel about ourselves in general, it will allow the individual to open up to see that reflection outwardly.

Because of this work, I became really interested in the process of becoming, and then began reading up on, and listening to speeches about the law of attraction, and from there, I started linking the two. My internal guidance is my family unit. And my love, is a co-creation between me, and the god force that works through me. It’s my process, my life, that I write about frequently. How can I get in touch with my feelings enough to feel, better. How can I do it? For years I looked for outside validation and acceptance for others to fill me up, but it never worked. Going within, was my only choice to feel better. I had to take responsibility for my own feelings, and ownership of my own thoughts and beliefs. No one can do it for anyone, as we are all in charge of our own filter, and how we see the world.

I am working on how I feel now. I have decided that regardless of the judgements or opinions good or bad that others hold of me, that I will no longer abide by that as my self definition. That said, I am still human, and fall prey to insecurities and depression about my life. We, as individuals can go one of two ways with it. We can project outwardly to others directly about how we feel internally or we can internalize every hurt we’ve ever felt and become a doormat for people who project their hurt onto others. I went that route first, and then I stopped. I became the me I always wanted to be, only alone. I aligned with myself, and realized that a good majority of the people that were on my life were comfortable with the old scenario. I had changed, but the dynamics of my life hadn’t. It takes awhile for the new energy to integrate with the old, established, formerly agreed upon 3D world that we all share and experience. I’m still working it out internally, so I can mesh with the already established energy in my own life in a way that better suits myself and others.

I don’t necessarily feel fabulous yet, but I’m practicing. I choose better feelings due to my focus on things that please me more often. I tend to act silly a lot, purposefully, to lighten my mood and change my energy for the better. I ask myself this question, “What can I think and believe, and truly hold that emotion as long as possible, to feel good?” And that’s how it starts. I used to be very concerned about what people thought about me. I sometimes still am, but less so now that I’ve decided to be myself more often without having to constantly apologize for it. I have noticed that genuinely happy people do not decide to think ill of themselves, then subsequently do not speak ill of others, so I’ve tried to stop gossiping. Being happy and talking trash is not the same vibrational energy. Those of us who choose to practice feeling good on the inside, are generally going to treat people with the same respect.

Loving yourself, isn’t wrong. Loving yourself, is the link you can create to become trustworthy to yourself, and to others. The lies we tell ourse subconsciously and consciously every day serve as a dissonance from within. You are love. That’s it. It’s only as simple or as complex as you want to make it. Telling yourself anything but that, is untrue, and the trust you develop with yourself can’t fully be realized. Choosing to feel good, to support yourself, and to act in accordance to that support, is the way to true happiness. And that goes for everyone. It’s not the people you need to separate from, it’s the loveless energy that we as individuals choose to hold, and to share. That decision starts with your feelings.

We are smarter than allowing our fears to override the truth about who we are. And our thoughts are a vehicle to our healing. Holding better thoughts, and disrupting old thought patterns with better energy and better topics to ruminate on will bring forth the change we wish to see in the world, but it needs to start from us, individually, and taught to our children as well.

Sister sledge sings a song called, “we are family. I got all my sisters, and me.” Yes. We have our brothers too. But the key word, is, me. We so often leave ourselves out of the equation. Love starts and ends with us. So make it happen. Be the one, who chooses, decides, and makes it different for all of us, and for you. Let’s become whole again. Let’s choose love, and everything that entails, one person at a time. Start with you. Because your internal family, needs you the most. 🌈💕

(1) from the book: Introduction to internal family systems model by Richard C. Schwartz, Ph. D.

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illusionsofdreaming · 5 years ago

Note

Just saw your post stating you take summoner requests so...Prince Xander confessing their affections to their Summoner pls? I refuse to go on anon I will die of fluff in public like I should.

Notes: *SALUTES TO THE BRAVE ONE*

Ft: Xander

“I give!” You collapsed backwards on the dusty training grounds, throwing aside the training sword with much more vehemence than it probably deserved as you wheezed pathetically for breath.

It had barely been fifteen minutes but you’ve been introduced to the ground more times than you cared to admit. Everything hurts and you’re sure your bruises have bruises.

A shadow fell over you. “You’ve improved.”

You scoffed, glaring balefully at the prince who didn’t even have the decency to pretend to be slightly out of breath. And after dragging you into this mess in the first place.

“Yeah I think I’ll stick to studying tactic books instead.” You groaned as you slung an arm across your forehead.

Curiosity had you agreeing to indulge in his request to spar but unlike most warriors here who seem to learn deep things about their opponents in trading blows you gained no such special insight, only painful reminders that you’re still not hero material.

Xander chuckled as he sat down next to you, golden perms still as perfect as ever. The Nohrian Prince opted to dress down for the bout, dressed in simple loose white shirt and tanned pants, which you observed did not take away from his regal look. It looked nice on him.

It was still early in the morning so the training grounds were empty aside from the two of you. The silence observed as you caught your breath however was not at all awkward. It seems the time you’ve spent around one another have made you comfortable to each other’s presence.

You were close to drifting off when Xander spoke. “After all this time I have yet to thank you properly.”

You blinked awake, drowsiness dispersing at his words. “What?”

“For bringing me into the order,” he clarified. “despite having fought on opposite sides once.”

You turned your head to look at him and thought about all the other shady heroes in your company who probably warranted some serious background checks. “You’re thanking the wrong person, it’s all Breidablik’s idea.” And you delighted in the chuckle it drew from him.

Still, you believed his words probably deserved better than your poor attempts at levity. “It’s a feeling I suppose.” You started slowly as the gravity of the topic seeped into you and you had to pause to sort through your thoughts on the matter. “War has always been larger than the individual, I cannot judge a person fighting for their ideals when we’re doing the same. I saw how you treated Veronica, I believed you’re not a bad person at heart.”

“That’s..” He seemed to think about your words. “Pardon my words but that’s quite naive.”

Ouch. You winced and looked away. Goes to show that not everyone can spout idealistic words and get away with it like most of those blue haired lords. You forced out a laugh. “Yeah, I suppose so. I am still quite new to this.”

“But I don’t dislike it.”

You were moving to sit up but paused when he said that, surprised as you turned to him and found him smiling.

“From the way you struggle with weapons, to your frantic reactions on the battlefields and genuine treatment of others, I can see that you came from a world that’s peaceful, without bloodshed and war.”

“We’re not without war.” You corrected softly, crossing your arms around your knees. “We’ve had wars so great it encapsulated the entire world, it scarred the lands and lost so much... Even now there’s still discord in certain parts but at least most of us can claim to have the privilege of being able to grow up in an environment where we do not have to face the effects of one.” It was true. Perhaps some heroes might think this made you weak and vulnerable in this world. After all, back home you never had to lead lives, you didn’t have to worry about survival, you never had to watch people you know get cut down before your eyes.

Warmth blanketed you and you reached up to touch the material, you briefly wondered when he got up to grab his cape from the side.

The prince sat down, his shoulder brushed against yours and despite yourself you felt comforted by the contact. “To be able to live without fear of tomorrow and to grow up without the need to be adept at wielding any kind of weapon or staff.. That’s what I wish to bring to my people as well.“

It’s an ambitious dream. A dream that, you knew, many of the heroes here shared. “It’s not going to be easy.” It’s going to take a lot of sacrifices and bloodshed. It might not even be accomplished by him. You didn’t have to voice that out since you knew the prince would understand this far too well.

You found yourself desperately wanting to understand the look in his eyes as he glanced down at his hands. You wondered what he saw in his palms, in the scars and callouses of his fingers. “There are days where reaching this dream seemed impossible. Times when the stain of lives stolen wouldn’t leave my hands. The burden of my decisions and role crushes like a mountain and there have been moments I’m ashamed to admit that I’ve thought of giving up, to instead let others carry this weight.”

“Xander..”

“Then there’s you picking up dropped biscuits and eating them-“

Wait what- You spluttered, completely thrown by the sudden change in direction of the conversation. “That was one time and there’s this thing called the three seconds rul-“

“And losing your head when Alfonse sudden sat up-“

“There’s no such thing as magical healing in my world! I thought he died!”

Xander laughed as you grabbed his shirt to shake him and his hands wrapped over yours gently, holding you in place. “What about when you couldn’t figure out the right side of a dagger-“

“That dagger was sharp on both ends!”

“And that time you called his highness Gustav, ‘Dad’.”

Blood rushed to your face as you dropped your head against his chest in mortification. He promised to never mention that horror story ever again!

Xander’s laughter filled the air and you’re surprised there aren’t people rushing into the training grounds to investigate what’s got the normally collected Nohrian crown prince in fits. When he finally calmed down there were tears in his eyes and his cheeks were flushed.

His hand reached out to ruffle your hair which you very petulantly slapped away and he chuckled. “You’re the best example that proves that peace can be the norm, perhaps it’s not inaccurate to say that you’re an embodiment of my dream.”

For some reason you felt your cheeks flush at his words even though you knew that wasn’t what he meant. “You’ve become cheesy Xander.”

His smile was wide as he tugged you closer and you hoped he didn’t notice how your breathing stuttered. “You have that effect on me.”

Your throat is dry as you narrowed your eyes, heartbeat pounding loudly in your ears. “Are you criticising or complimenting me?” You still remembered how to sass even if everything about this situation was turning your mind blank.

His lips twitched at the corners. “I can’t begin to imagine what would prompt you to question my sincerity. I’ve only got the best compliments for you.” To which in response you scoffed at.

The smile on his face was patient and amused as he leaned over to tuck a strand of hair around your ear and warmth blossomed across your skin where his finger lingered. “You’re adorable when you’re oblivious.”

“But it’s alright. I can wait.”

#imagines #fire emblem #fire emblem heroes #fire emblem fates #feh #fe14 #fe15 #xander #fluff #confession?#summoner #uh #in typical illu style #i got sidetracked from answering the actual prompt #oops #feel free to request again if this isn't what you wanted oops #i need to stop going deep for imagine requests lmao #also this took me forever + 1 to respond to #i hope it's still relevant

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luna-almighty-god · 5 years ago

Text

Guardian Angel N°14 [Brother, my brother]

Here is chapter fourteen !

The drawing is mine, please don’t take it!

This story is obviously not canonical, please do not refer to it if you are looking for canonical information.

Enjoy reading !

===

First Chapter

Previous Chapter

===

“Why keep him awake?”

It was a question Ink had been asking himself for a long time. Since Nyx had reached adolescence. Since Nightmare had put a terrible, horrible spell on him, at least for those in need of sleep.

Not that the Artist gave a damn, far from it. He was just curious, intrigued even, not the strange choice of the master of nightmares. After all, Nightmare saw in Nyx an heir, so wasn't it foolish to weaken him like that?

But the keeper of the nightmares had given him the most serious answer in the world:

“Have you never experienced sleepless nights? As the hours go by, as the next day comes, one can see thoughts, ideas, worries multiplying. At night, when we don't sleep, our worries and apprehensions grow, become so great that nothing seems possible anymore, that tranquility gives way to paranoia. Insomnia is the dark side of imagination, joy and hope. In the morning, everything seems confused, disaster scenarios assail our minds, and the day unfolds in this second state, this state of terror. We get up, we tell ourselves that we're going to make it.”

He had a sinister smile on his face:

“But once you go to bed, once you try to sleep and you're confronted with the night again... the same scenario happens. And the constant terror makes us lose all hope. We can't see what's really around us.”

He had watched Ink sneer:

“This way, isn't it easier to keep him under our control?”

Yes, you do. It was a lot easier.

And Nyx was well aware that he was being manipulated all along. But what could he do?

*** ***

PaperJam should never have gone there alone. He knew that, of course. But there was no way he would sit there and do nothing, and if he had asked for help, he would have been forbidden to go!

Of course, he could have called Goth, but Goth would have told Geno, who would have told Error! So, option to be avoided.

Jammy found himself wandering in the multiverse, feverish but determined, and above all terribly lonely, trying to feel the magic energy of Nyx.

But he couldn't feel it. On reflection, he had never felt it.

It had only increased his anxiety and he had hesitated to return to his parents - who were probably looking for him.

[But he felt it.]

Confused, PaperJam didn't understand. He didn't understand why he suddenly felt the magic of his daddy Ink... twice.

The incoherence was even stronger when he had perceived an anomaly in one of the two magics, and it's the anguish - as well as the curiosity - that pushed him to go towards this strange magic.

Oh, for God's sake... why did he go alone?

He hadn't thought about it, he had to admit it. Yet he should have been alerted by the magic that appeared out of nowhere and which, as if by chance, showed up when he was alone. He should have been worried when he saw this magic that seemed to be calling him. He should have worried when he had arrived in this AU desert.

But he hadn't done any of that.

And the reckless child, besides not being suspicious, didn't realize that he had been watched since his arrival in that remote UA. Observed? No. Scrutiny would be the operative word. Scrutinized from head to toe, examined, judged, by that red look filled with hatred, the look of an Ink who was not his father, far from it, very far from it.

“I led him to us. Get rid of him now.” commanded the Creator of the future at Nyx's address.

Nyx opened his eyes, to look at his father with terror and incomprehension:

“Don't you want to take the place of your doppelganger and thus acquire his family? What is the purpose of killing this child then?

- This child is not my son. He will never be my son like you! You were not born of my union with Error! This kid is from the Ink of this timeline, this Ink that I will take care of making disappear, who in no way deserves MY Error! He didn't fight for it, he didn't know what I went through! He cheated! Cheated because of you! I will never accept it, I will never accept anything that comes from him because of you! Including that stupid, weak kid!”

The cartoonist was caught in a cold sweat, intimidated by the angry look his father gave him. He could only nod his head feverishly, trembling, and Ink gave him a satisfied smile:

“Good. Join me when you're done. And don't be long.”

He opened a portal and went through it without waiting.

Abandoned to his fate, Nyx felt a sob hugging his throat as he turned around to observe PaperJam a little further away, poor Jammy who hadn't noticed him yet and who didn't suspect his fate for a moment.

No... No, he couldn't feel pity. He couldn't sympathize, he couldn't let himself be touched. PaperJam meant nothing to him, at least Nyx tried to convince himself of that. But how can you convince yourself to hate a young skeleton who has supported you so much these last months? A little skeleton who was mischievously coming to sleep with him every night, keeping him company during his long insomnia ? A little skeleton who had the delicacy to never reveal his withdrawal crisis ...

PaperJam was too nice ... And it was this kindness that was going to kill him.

Jammy barely had time to react when he perceived the use of magic not far from him. Before being able to defend himself, his legs were swept by a tentacle, and he collapsed head first against the ground. Confused, he raised his head in panic, only to freeze at the sight of Nyx standing nearby, looking down on him. Looking at him in a way that PaperJam hated...

The child swallowed as he saw tentacles materializing from the shadows. He didn't understand anything anymore, but Nyx was definitely not in his normal state.

The appendixes sprang towards him, with the clear purpose of quickly reducing it to dust. And if PaperJam didn't move, nailed to the ground by surprise and anguish, he was nevertheless able to raise his voice as his big innocent and confused eyes planted themselves in Nyx's eyes:

“Big brother... ?”

The tentacles froze a few millimeters from his body, while the older one petrified in amazement, the words dying in his throat:

“.... W-what...?” stuttered the cartoonist.

PaperJam felt his soul squeeze. He gratified his elder with a look of anxiety, fear, but above all .... Filled with a tenderness and love that surprised Nyx.

Slowly, braving his fear and ignoring the appendages that seemed as frightened as he was, the child came to gently put his hand on a tentacle, to gently caress it to calm him, to comfort him.

“.... You called Ink 'Daddy' .... explained the younger one delicately. And ... You have tentacles, you draw ... you eat black apples .... Your eyes change shape ... So, DaddInk and Nightmare are your parents ...?”

The perspicacity of his younger brother surprised Nyx, who made his tentacles disappear in panic, retreating one step:

“I...”

Jammy puffed up his cheeks:

“I'm not an idiot... Don't lie to me...”

The Draftsman observed him for a few moments, unaware of this turn of events. He finally looked down in shame:

“... No, you're not stupid. Quite the contrary. You're right, I am the son of Nightmare and Ink. But I come from another timeline...”

Paperjam tilted his head to the side, intrigued. He got up slowly without letting go of Nyx's gaze:

“... Timeline ... My parents often talk about it, but it only concerns AUs like Undertale ... But I understand the principle. You're, like... a possibility? Something that could have happened in our lives? And I must be the same for you, right?

- It's, like... (Sighs) It's kind of like that, yeah...”

The child took one small step, then another, so as not to frighten his brother, giving him time to get used to his presence as if he wanted to tame him. And it seemed to work, for despite his trembling, Nyx let him approach without making the slightest gesture.

“... Nyx ... if you tell me what you're afraid of ... ?”

The drawer tightened, his throat tied, before finally raising his eyes full of tears towards his younger son:

“... I ... I ...”

He put one hand over his mouth, choking a sob.

“...I don't want to destroy my family again...”

He closed his eyes, repressing the tears that were burning his eyes, and that was enough for PaperJam to brave the last meters that separated them, and come to embrace him with all his strength:

“... you won't destroy it. You are too nice for that...

- ... No. I'm sorry, Jammy... Y-You don't know what I could've done... You don't know me...”

The child laughed nicely:

“There's a lot of things I don't know, but that doesn't stop me from trusting! You know ... I don't know Father well ... he's clumsy with me, and he's afraid to touch me ... but I trust him because, even though he doesn't talk much, he protects me and tries to make me happy.”

Jammy had a lovely smile:

“Just like you, Nyx. You try to help and protect everyone, so you're nice! My sweet big brother!”

He came to rub his face against his chest and Nyx's cheekbones took on a soft mauve hue. The child finally let him go:

“So, what can I do to help you?”

The elder one frowned on the arches, before he began to think:

“... I don't know myself what I can do ... what I want to do ... I want my parents to be happy, but in order to do that I have to hurt other people I love...

- And is that necessary?

- ... ...excuse me?”

Nyx watched his younger brother look innocently at him:

“Will it really make them happy that you're doing this?

- ... Yes... that's what they want...

- But... what they want won't necessarily make them happy. I want candy all the time but Papink won't let me eat it... It annoys me, but at the same time it's to make me healthy, and therefore happy!”

Nyx blinked, surprised by his words... and finally he started to laugh. At first softly, then more frankly, as if all his pressure suddenly disappeared, that he was freed from a weight too heavy for his shoulders.

PaperJam was surprised:

“Did I... did I say something stupid?”

The drawer caressed his skull while trying to calm his laughter, his pupils regaining a soft golden color:

“No Jammy, on the contrary. You're absolutely right!”

The child's eyes opened wide when his elder carried him suddenly. He looked at him confusedly:

“Nyx?

- Let's go home little head! It's time for me to take control of my life!”

Something that made PaperJam smile and raise his fist triumphantly:

“Yeah! Well spoken!”

They exchanged a knowing glance and Nyx took out his pencil, making a gesture to create a portal. But of course, nothing could simply happen. Fate, karma, whatever else, did not wish to help or support poor Nyx, whose life seemed to mock him every minute of his existence.

Fate came in the form of a tentacle which flashed towards the two brothers, and if Nyx had the presence of mind to step aside, he petrified when the appendix stole his pencil from him!

“No,” he exclaimed as he turned his head, only to be covered in cold sweat the next instant.

Nightmare, his father, was standing there, looking bad, looking quite.... disappointed.

PaperJam hiccuped in fear as he came to hide against Nyx, trembling, feeling the negative aura of the nightmare master amplify throughout the entire UA.

“I should have been firmer”, scolded the guard, whose pupil crackled with anger. “Ink gave you an order, execute it Nyx!”

The drawer moved backwards, feverishly ... before puckering the arches and putting Jammy behind him, not without letting go of the Nightmare gaze.

“No, he said. I'm sorry, Father, but I can't hurt my little brother.

- HE'S NOT YOUR BROTHER!” shouted the master of woe. “THIS IS NOT YOUR TIMELINE! THIS IS NOT YOUR LIFE! YOU DON'T KNOW THESE PEOPLE, AND YOU WOULD BETRAY ME FOR THEM?!”

Nyx gently rubbed PaperJam's back to calm his tremors as he faced his father with more determination:

“I've only known them for a few months... but they're all I've ever dreamed of... I won't let you take them away from me.”

Nightmare shudders like his aura, before his blue eyes become darker than ever, before the air around him becomes icy, before the earth beneath their feet trembles and cracks under the weight of an increasingly uncontrollable magic.

The hoarse voice of the guardian rose:

“I should have finished you at birth.”

Nyx became livid, grabbed PJ against him as his own tentacles materialized to surround them, forming a shield that Nightmare clashed with when he attacked them.

The shock was severe, Nyx wince at the impact, not feeling able to match his father. He kept Jammy against him and dragged him abruptly into the shadows, only to move furtively and at high speed away from there. It might have worked if Nightmare wasn't a dark follower himself ....

“Poor coward ! Is this how I raised you?!” he cried, turning the Nyx's soul blue, before forcibly pulling it out of the shadows.

The cartoonist hiccupped, dropped PaperJam and fell to the ground as he himself was thrown against a nearby rock. Although the pain was nothing compared to what he had already experienced, he still let out a yelp of pain as he collapsed to the ground, landing badly on his hands.

He grimaced, feeling his wrist electrify him. To think that this wound would never have the slightest respite ...

Nyx looked up at his father. He had no desire to fight him, but his sire left him no choice.

Nightmare passed Nyx's tentacles without harm, probably because the rage made him more powerful than ever. He made the bones appear and threw them at his son, scolded when he saw him dodge them, decided to turn his soul blue a second time and suddenly pulled him towards him.

Nyx hiccupped, could not hold his body, which was heavily propelled towards Nightmare. He yelped when his father grabbed him by the collar and lifted him up without the slightest softness, darting an angry look at him.

“Nyx, you're just a...”

The keeper stopped suddenly, surprised, as if he had noticed something that had been too well concealed until then:

“.... That a kid ... weak ... and dependent ...”

The last word had been blown slowly as an unhealthy smile appeared on the teeth of the master of misfortune, whose gaze had been illuminated with a sadistic glow full of madness:

“That's why you're not getting anywhere at the moment... You have no more apple ~”

Nyx petrified, his breath accelerating in anguish as he watched his father without knowing what to do.

Paperjam, not far away, also tensed up, remembering all too well the crisis that his brother had made, crisis which had been able to be calmed only thanks to apples precisely.

Without understanding the desire to cry which had suddenly embraced him, Nyx felt his magic trembling, trembling under a terrible apprehension. And Nightmare's smile only added to his palpable horror.

So ... what can I do to make you a good dog again?" the guard purring. Should I give you apples? Would you be interested? »

Nyx's magic became more painful, his body seemed to be bitten from the inside, violently lacerated by frost teeth. Each of his bones screamed grace as his pupils slowly began to alternate between blue and gray, panic and supplication.

“N-no...” he articulated slowly, using violence to answer nothing else.

But his body screamed the opposite, his whole being was sweating and begging, while his mouth spoke only lies that Nyx would have liked to believe:

“I don't care about apples...”

{I need it}

“No matter what it does to me...”

{I'm scared}

“It doesn't matter if I disappear... I wasn't even supposed to exist...”

{I don't want to die}

“I, uh...”

The tears came back furiously burning his eyes, but he struggled not to let them out.

“I... I... I...”

Nightmare had darkened, arched arches, hating the response, which sounded to his ear canals like a pathetic, laughable lament.

“... To think that I saw you as my heir... when you're just a stupid emotional kid playing grown-up.”

[CRACK]

A painful crack. An umpteenth on the trembling soul of Nyx.

“... I just wanted to see you happy...” the drawer hiccupped as the first tears began to fall. “I just wanted to...”

He screamed at the ground, his spirit twisting as his skull hit the ground. One minute his heart was high, and the next he regurgitated. He regurgitated a reddish liquid with a pungent taste, while the world around him began to turn, that his body gave him the impression of being torn apart and crushed, oppressed, on the verge of yielding, of breaking.

“NYX!” shouted PaperJam while straightening up without daring to intervene more, petrified of terror by the negative aura of Nightmare which also gave him desire to cry.

The master of nightmares looked at his son with an evil eye, his fists clenched:

“... Since you want it so badly, why don't you just die?”

His magic was activated, forcing Nyx to curl up on himself as the guard scolded:

“... Die of madness, you idiot.”

Nightmare snapped his fingers.

Nothing happened.

...not in the eyes of PaperJam at least. But Nyx, he felt it violently. That storm that swept through him, that invisible padlock that gave him nightmares every night, that fucking, fucking spell that had begun to crumble in the last few months...

And Nightmare had just struck the fatal blow.

He had definitely removed the spell that was keeping him awake.

Far from seeing this as a release, Nyx lost his pupils, his face turned livid. Panic, fright, horror, terror.

[He sank into darkness]

[He sank into silence]

[He fell into fucking nightmares]

===

Next Chapter

You can support me on my Utip or on my Ko-fi account !

===

Credits =

Nightmare -> Joku

Ink -> Myebi

Paperjam -> 7GoodAngel

#Guardian Angel #nyx #undertale #alternate universe #alternate timeline #fanfiction #inkmare #nightkiller #errink #error #ink #nightmare #killer #sans

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darling-dontforgetme · 5 years ago

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Heavy

- Cordelia Goode x Reader

- Trigger warnings for depression, self harm.

- This needs proofread, but it’s been a hard few days, so I may do some editing some other time.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

It’s the crying in the middle of the night that wakes her.

You have been spiraling downward for days, but tonight, the bottom of what felt like an endless pit finally reared its ugly head. Today felt like the end, like your sadness was ready to take you away from here and keep ahold of you forever. The sounds of the coven had been overwhelming, circling around you in a way that made you feel claustrophobic, like despite being surrounded by all of this life, you were alone; an isolated part of the house’s inhabitants. Tonight though, despite crawling into bed with your lover almost five hours ago, you have yet to sleep. Instead, you had lain awake, eyes open and staring as your thoughts grew and grew and grew.

Now, curled up on the bathroom floor, you hurt. You sit beside the small nightlight plugged into the wall, hoping to minimize the light creeping under the crack in the door and into the bedroom. You’ve stuffed a washcloth between your teeth to try and muffle your misery, but how can anyone sleep when your brain is screaming so loudly? How can they sleep when everything is so fast, and heavy, and sharp?

When the door opens and Cordelia’s silhouette slips inside, the crushing weight of failure knocks the breath out of you, bangs on your brain in a way that says bad, bad, bad. Arms stretched in front of you, you drop your head onto your knees, letting the cloth fall in your lap. Delia flicks the switch, and you screech as the brightness of the overhead light suddenly blinds you, scrambling into the corner and pulling your arms into your chest, mumbling a mantra of no, no, no.

Your girlfriend’s steps are calm as they approach, light and delicate, and so, so Cordelia. Despite the urgency she feels, she doesn’t rush, she doesn’t want to overwhelm, doesn’t want to frighten. She can see the blood running down your arms, and the red marks on your legs where you’ve pinched your skin, the blade still grasped in your hand.

“Sweetheart,” Cordelia says gently, kneeling a foot away from you with her hands up, like I won’t hurt you, let me help you, let me take away this pain. “Look at me. Can I touch you? Will you let me take care of you now?”

You bite your lip, blinking hard to try and rid the tears from your eyes, but they just keep coming and coming, like they could make their own ocean if given enough time. “Wait.” You whisper, pushing out your elbow to protect yourself, as if she would ever do anything without your consent. “There has to be three. They have to be in sets of three.”

Cordelia nods simply, like you’ve asked her for something easy, something that isn’t hard and hurting. But truly, you have requested she allow you to drag a blade across your own skin. She doesn’t understand, isn’t okay with you harming yourself, but you think she grasps the idea of how important it is that you finish, of how much worse things would become if she didn’t allow you to follow through until the end. Cordelia does understand hardship, she understands pain, she understands how it feels to be your own worst enemy.

Two more lines are required to complete the third set of three’s on your right arm, and it’s hard, knowing that she’s watching you, feeling that intense gaze upon the blood bursting up from inside of you. She waits patiently as you glide the sharp metal across your pale skin, not saying a word, not touching, never judging. When the cuts are uniform and perfect, evenly parallel on the wrist of your freckled skin, your eyes meet Delia’s and she holds out her hand. Anxiously, you place the blade into her palm, blood dripping off your arm and onto the expanse of tiles between you. This is real and raw and bare; distressing. Cordelia is seeing you at the peak of your suffering, seeing how ugly and dirty and stupid you can be. No, how ugly and dirty and stupid you are.

Cordelia sets the blade aside and wraps her fingers around your own, scooting forward to tug you onto her lap. You make your home against her chest, knees coming up and arms tucking in as you fold up like a fearful child. You don’t deserve this, don’t deserve to be held and comforted, but Cordelia is your girlfriend, your safe haven, and there’s always some weird invisible force gravitating your body towards hers. Despite your self hatred, despite your current belief that you should ache and struggle alone, you don’t want her to leave you.

Cordelia’s free hand traces your spine, lips lingering against your temple as she speaks. “Tell me what’s happening, baby. Tell me why you hurt.”

“I’m so tired,” you choke out, taking your hand from hers to fist onto her shirt, squeezing tight. It’s not the answer she wants, not the answer for what has led up to this moment, this bleeding and blades and pain. You fidget in her lap, trying to move your body closer to hers, but there’s no more space between you, and it still doesn’t feel like enough. Frustrated with your feelings, you rip your hands away from her shirt and into your hair, tugging hard, like it might slow down the thoughts in your head, might help you gain control over the emotions too large for your small body to handle.

“Shh, love,” Cordelia eases, gently unwrapping your trembling fists. “No, no, don’t do that. It’s okay. I’m here.”

You are crying so loudly, almost howling with the torment churning inside you. You reach to pinch at your thighs again, but Cordelia catches your hands and refuses to let go. “No more pain, tonight,” she says. “You’ve hurt enough. What’s happening in your head?”

“Too much,” you croak, hiding against her neck so you won’t have to look at her, too embarrassed for her to walk with you amongst this storm. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” You never wanted her to see this, never wanted to put this burden on her. “I’m sorry for being too much.”

“No, sweetheart,” Cordelia soothes, stroking her hand through your tangled hair and gently working out the knots. You wish she could do the same thing with your brain. Simply wave her hand and the tangles inside of you would carefully and painlessly unbind. “I’m worried about you. I can’t help you if you don’t tell me what’s going on.”

“You’ll be mad.”

She pulls back to look into your eyes, lifting your chin so she can convey the seriousness of her next statement, how there’s no room for argument when your emotions are clouding your thoughts, making you believe things that could never be true. “No, I couldn’t ever be mad at you. Not for something like this.”

“I can’t- I can’t-,” you finally begin, gasping in air, leaning back a little to stretch out your stomach. You want to stayed hidden against her, nestled into the crook of her neck where everything is safe, but the curled position smushes up your lungs and makes it harder to breathe. “I can’t do this anymore. I have to get out of bed and get dressed and eat and shower and eat again and it’s all such simple shit. Simple, everyday shit. But Delia, it’s so hard.” You break out into a sob, feeling overwhelmed and pathetic. You should be able to handle menial tasks, the same sorts of things everyone else completes. “I hate myself so much. I’m tired of feeling ugly, of feeling lonely. I’m tired of feeling stupid and fighting with myself. My head feels like it’s spinning. Nothing will calm down. Make it stop, please make it stop.”

You begin yanking on your hair again, scratching at your scalp in desperation. The blood from your arms has stained everything, your head and hair, Cordelia’s shirt, spreading like the pain within you. “I don’t want to exist, and that’s not me wanting to end everything. I just need a break, need for everything to slow down. I need to not feel for a little while.” Because how are you supposed to get out of bed, act normal and go about your day when you just feel so awful and worthless?

Cordelia’s hands cover yours, but you jerk them away to cover your face, like covering your eyes might rewind the last few moments, might make the fearful look on your lover’s face go away.

But your head isn’t done spinning, isn’t ready to cease the explosion that has already begun. “How do I know this is all worth it? When I’m crying in the middle of the night, and I’m alone, and my existence feels like more of a burden than something special, it really, really doesn’t feel worth it. Nothing does.” You’ve run out of air, lungs burning and gasping and begging for the reprieve your own body won’t allow.

“Close your eyes for me.” Delia’s arms wrap around your body, holding tight so the pieces of you will stop falling every which way. “Just breathe, pretty. Let’s calm down."

You do as she asks, and things are quiet for a long time as Cordelia talks you down, murmuring promises and soothing words against the war in your mind.

“I want you to understand something,” she says. “I love you, and nothing will ever change that. Don’t let your head tell you any differently. When it lies, or you hurt or feel confused, find me, baby. Find me, and I’ll make everything better. You aren’t alone, even when you feel like you are. You aren’t stupid or worthless, nor are you too much. You aren’t a burden to me, sweet girl. You are worth so much more than the way you make yourself feel.”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper from the space against her shoulder; guilty, guilty, guilty. “You don’t want this, Cordelia. You don’t want everything that comes with me.”

“No,” she says fiercely, cutting you off. “You have the biggest heart I’ve ever seen. I couldn’t live without that funny face you pull when our eyes meet across the room, or the way you send me good morning texts even though we sleep in the same bed. Honey, you are so gentle. I love that you’re afraid of bugs, but you make sure I release them, adamant that they have a family to provide for, loved ones who care for them. The way you want to hide against me when you’re afraid or upset, just the way you know that I can and will protect you. I love you. I want all of you, sweetheart, and I always will."

“You can’t mean that,” you whisper, doubtful that anyone could ever truly love you, admire your random quirks and habits.

Cordelia pulls you away from her again, forcing you to look her in the eye. “You don’t have to believe me, sweet girl. I’ll spend the rest of my life reminding you every day if that’s what it takes, okay? I’ll leave notes on the refrigerator, whisper it to you every morning and night, get it printed on every birthday cake you’ll ever have for the rest of your life, whatever it takes, love.”

“Okay,” you whisper, nodding somberly. It’s nearing three a.m., and exhaustion is taking over, slipping out from your bones and making you yawn.

Cordelia’s hand traces along your cheek before she presses her forehead against yours, noses touching. “Let’s get you cleaned up, alright?”

You collapse against her, needing one more minute, sixty seconds more of quiet and calm, safety. Once you move, life continues, but here, right now, it’s as if the world is paused. The hurt lingers, clawing for you from the background, but not quite able to reach.

When you finally nod, detaching yourself from Cordelia so that the two of you can stand, everything begins again. Pain clenches your heart, and you bite down on your lip as the tears return, but there’s a soft hand in your own tugging you along. She leads you toward the shower, helping rid you of your clothes.

“I’m sorry,” you say before she has the chance to take off her shirt, your eyes lingering on the bloodstains across her breast. “I’m sorry I ruined your shirt.”

Cordelia just smiles softly, cupping your cheek and shaking her head. “You haven’t ruined anything.”

Your girlfriend guides you under the shower spray, keeping her arms wrapped tightly around you to help support your weak legs. You know you are making this difficult, that the tub would have been easier with your fragile condition, but Cordelia knows how you hate to sit in your own filth. You feel like you should apologize for that, too. “I- I’m sorry,” you whisper again, and your guilt grows and grows and grows, your mind once more becoming fast and tumbling. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-“

“No.” Cordelia speaks firmly and palms your face with both hands, bringing your eyes to meet hers. “No more sorries, baby. You haven’t done anything wrong.”

“But I-“

“No,” she says again. “But what? But you think me helping you, taking care of you, loving you, is more than you deserve? Honey, in my eyes, you’ve hung the moon. I can never do enough for you. Caring for you isn’t something hard and heavy, it’s… it’s like freedom. Like fitting the last piece into a puzzle, like the joy of adopting a cat multiplied every second of every day. Loving you is easy, sweet girl. Loving you is the greatest thing I could ever hope for. I never, ever want to stop.”

Face crumpling, you wrap your arms around her, clutching onto her sides as you sob. Cordelia is so much more than you deserve. Her hands stroke down your back, and then she begins massaging the shampoo into your hair as your head rests against her chest. Delicately, she turns your bodies so that the spray can rinse out the soap, then she adds conditioner and repeats the process. Cordelia takes her time scrubbing over your skin, ensuring she removes every crimson stain, like she’s worshipping every freckle, every stretch mark, every inch.

When the task is complete, Cordelia dries and dresses you, then sets you on the floor near the vanity while she dons her own clothes and readies to bandage your wounds. You curl up, feeling vulnerable now that she is no longer attached to your side. Cordelia smiles as she sits down cross legged next to you, like everything is okay, like you hurting yourself isn’t even the slightest of inconveniences. “You’re cuter than cat snores, you know?” She says out of nowhere, and it brings a smile to your own mouth. “Let me see them, now.”

Trembling, you allow her to take your left arm, and she slowly and carefully slips it away from your body for her eyes to inspect. Though the cuts are rather shallow, many of them still bleed. Cordelia has seen the old scars along your wrist before, but it hurts her to see scabbed over injuries from recent days, weeks. It hurts her to know you have been suffering silently, have been hiding. She stops studying your cuts, and her eyes slip up to yours. “Tell me, okay? Always tell me. No matter when, no matter where. Don’t do this on your own.”

She doesn’t wait for an answer, she doesn’t need one because she trusts you. Her fingers delicately apply antiseptic to your arms, gliding across the broken skin like it’s nothing, like you haven’t done this to yourself. A few layers of gauze are looped around your wrists, then Cordelia taps your nose and tugs you to your feet, leading you out of the bathroom. “Let’s get you into bed, and I’ll be right back with some Tylenol for you.”

You shake your head, grip on her hand tightening as you intertwine your arm with hers. You don’t want her to go, don’t want her to leave you alone. Now that you’ve found an anchor of safety, of comfort, you never want to risk it leaving.

Like a lost child, you follow her down the stairs, content to stand beside her as she digs through the medicine cabinet, eventually procuring the solution for your needs. You know you’re being stupid and clingy, but you can’t find it in yourself to let go of her hand. You don’t think you would be able to survive should anything separate you, even if it were for her to just walk across the room.

Upstairs, you slip into bed together, your head falling to rest upon her chest. Your hands fist onto her shirt, one of her arms wrapped around your waist to hold you close.

“Cordelia?” You whisper into the silence of the night, and it feels like you’ve broken something, like the acknowledgement of your presence is a burden on the whole world.

She hums delicately, one eye cracking open to peek down at you.

“Do you think… maybe… you could teach me how to be happy?”

#Cordelia Goode #Cordelia Goode x reader #Cordelia Goode imagine #ahs #American horror story #American horror story coven #American horror story apocalypse #ahs imagine #American horror story imagine #ahs coven #ahs apocalypse #ahs coven imagine #ahs apocalypse imagine

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artemisfit · 5 years ago

Text

my reasons to lose weight

One thing i did when I decided to start losing weight was to write down one reason to lose for every pound of my goal weight. I want to be 137 lbs? I wrote 137 reasons to lose the weight to get there.

I want to preface this by saying that these reasons are just my personal reasons for wanting to lose weight, and they have no bearing on and hold no judgement for anyone else who might read the list. I do not judge anyone for where they are at in their life physically. We are all on our own path. That may sound really patronizing and flighty but it’s true. That being said, for those who suffer with negative body image, some of these reasons might be triggering for that, so please read on with that in mind.

I don’t even know why I’m posting all of these in a place where other people can see them rather than just keeping them to myself, but I know that the actual process of writing a reason for every pound of my goal weight is something that I found greatly encouraging, so maybe it’ll help someone else?

So without further ado, my reasons to lose weight will be beneath the cut, just because to have them just typed out would make this a very long post.

To stop hating how I look

To be able to look at my reflection in a full-length mirror without launching into a depressive episode

To be able to look at my own image during a video call without wanting to turn off my camera and hide

To be able to wear the clothes I want and look and feel good in them

To feel attractive and confident

To own my body instead of allowing my body to own me

To be able to enjoy food without being a victim of my appetite

To finally feel beautiful for once in my life

To have clear skin and a clean body

To be able to go up stairs or escalators without running out of breath

To get rid of the stretch marks on my skin

To potentially lessen my anxiety and depression

To be able to wake up at 5 in the morning and feel refreshed

To be the type of person who runs when stressed, not the type to eat her feelings

To never have to wear shapewear ever again

To know the strength that my body is capable of

To look like my own personal motivational photo

To not hate being in front of a camera because I know I’ll look fat in a photo

To treat my body with the respect it deserves

To hear the comments and compliments from friends/family/acquaintances

To be able to walk around a room in underwear or a dressing gown and feel sexy or at least not self conscious

To see the lower number on the scale at the doctor’s office and not feel like I’m being judged by the nurse

To look good in athletic tights

To be able to stop comparing myself to every girl that passes by (or worse, to my friends)

To be light enough for friends to pick me up

To get to a point where being “what I eat” doesn’t feel like an insult

To be able to wear form fitting clothes without bumps or rolls

To get rid of the bump at the top of my spine and improve my posture

To be able to go swimming without wanting to put a t-shirt on over my swimsuit

To potentially get over my fear and hatred of going shopping in person

To stop constantly thinking people are talking about me and how fat I am

To have more energy

To be more flexible

To not lose my breath after even minimal exertion

To be able to wear a dress without my thighs chafing so bad I get a rash

To get rid of my double chin and perhaps the size/jutting of my actual chin

To have a thinner face over all in addition to a thinner body

To know what having abs feels like

To be able to wear high waisted jeans that zip all the way up and don’t have that pulled gap by the button

To be able to wear “one size fits all” clothing

To be able to playfully sit in a friend’s lap without feeling like I’m going to crush their legs

To improve the strength of my heart

To be confident enough to do karaoke

To be confident enough to wear shorts and sundresses in summer

To be able to do yoga and pilates

To get back into karate or some other type of martial arts

To be able to go to the gym and not feel like everyone’s staring and judging me

To be more active like I was when I was a kid

To be able to run a 5k

To be able to delete the “weight loss” and “motivation” boards on my Pinterest because I don’t need them anymore

To never see a scale number above 150 again

To be able to wear single digit clothing sizes

To maybe see if losing weight helps me wear heels without as much pain

To get rid of the roll-over on my stomach

To have more confidence when it comes to any kind of romance

To never have to write down “lose weight” as a new years resolution ever again

To be able to fully close my coats and zip up my leather jackets

To have the only muffin top in my life be on actual muffins

To have longer, healthier hair, skin, and nails because my body is clean and healthy and can promote those things more easily

To not feel lethargic and lazy and like a slob all the time

To cry because I lost weight not cry because I gained it

To have my watches and bracelets fit perfectly without leaving marks – same for my rings

To confirm that I do actually have a smaller waist than it currently looks like I do

To lower my risk for health problems later in life

To get rid of the bulk on my thighs – I’ll never have a thigh gap but I can at least not have actual turkey legs

To be able to walk or run 4 miles every morning and not feel like I’m going to die

To stop being so utterly and constantly self-conscious and full of hatred about my own body

To not worry that the guy delivering my takeaway is judging me when I open the door

To look like someone who matches that “London life aesthetic”

To not fear stepping on the scale

To never hear my dad telling me I’ve gained weight again

To be able to encourage my mom in her own weight loss journey

To have thinner, more graceful fingers

To not be the fat friend

To be able to wear sexy, lacy lingerie and feel good in it and not have to buy it in a bigger size and then still be too self-conscious to wear it

To be able to be impressed by my own before and after pics

To not be afraid to see my own naked body when I get out of the shower

To be able to say that I did this, that I achieved my goal and changed my own life

To look good in baggy clothes, not like I’m trying to hide behind them

To enjoy exercise and feel the endorphins it produces

To be confident enough to go for nights out in London and have fun

To be able to buy a whole new wardrobe without feeling like I can’t buy certain things because there’s no way that they would look good on me

To have a higher percentage of muscle than fat

To feel like in at least one area I’m in control of my life and not letting it control me

To sleep better and wake up feeling rested

To hear the comments from my dad’s family in Egypt

To be able to dance around my apartment and not be worried that I left the blinds up

To feel more comfortable in various social situations

To not think that a guy who may or may not be looking at me from across the room is thinking negative things about my looks or my weight

To be able to fit into my fame & partners dress should I ever have an occasion to wear it

To stop feeling so desperate to find new, fad, or quick diets that probably wouldn’t work anyways

To be able to wear clothes like Julia from the magicians

To not feel like no matter what my makeup looks like I’m still ugly

To see the final goal weight number on the scale

To feel like I am worth the work and the effort and maybe even actually believe it

To be able to wear crop tops should I want to

To look good in any youtube videos I decide to make

To be able to make a youtube video or a series of videos at some point about how I lost weight and kept it off

To be able to tuck shirts in to my jeans or skirts and not immediately untuck it because I hate how it looks

To never have to spend hours looking up “weight loss” anywhere on the internet ever again

To feel my clothes get more and more loose

To know what it feels like to have a flat stomach

To not feel like I’m faking whenever I wear something stylish or remotely form-fitting

To be “that hot new phd student”

To have the possibility of a stranger telling me I’m pretty like they do my friends when we’re out (this one is quite selfish but I acknowledge that it’s still a reason)

To get to the point where eating healthy and drinking a gallon of water a day isn’t something I have to remind myself to do, it’s just second nature

To get to a point where I love myself, my whole self, rather than just hating the body I feel like I’m stuck in.

To get to the point where i love exercise and look forward to doing it multiple times a week

To eat intuitively and for enjoyment instead of eating recklessly and unhealthily

To know that I am what i have worked hard to become

To not feel so terrified about changing clothes when others are around

To have slimmer, toned legs

To have a good, shapely bum

To have my hair be my biggest concern when getting ready in the morning instead of “what clothes can I wear to hide my body today?”

To be able to take pictures of my body that will help inspire me and may in turn inspire others should I share them

To see the looks on my friends’ and family’s faces when I get back after being away for a while

To hear the comments from my friends and classmates

To stop hiding behind the camera all the time and be happy to stand in front of it

To stop the thighs of my jeans from wearing out so quickly

To be able to actually live in my body rather than just have it be the thing that takes my head from room to room

To stop feeling envious over the bodies of my friends (I know this is a toxic thing to do/think/live with and I want to get ride of this urge)

To not turn out like a lot of my family

To look more like the girl I used to be when I was a kid and to do her right/do her proud

To see more of the actual shape of my face (do I have good cheekbones? do I have a jawline that could cut a man?)

To be confident enough to go and do my running outside rather than feeling too awkward like people are going to stare and then just using a treadmill.

To get to the point where I know enough about nutrition and my body to be able to listen to it and give it what it needs, not just what I think I want

To get rid of some of the emotional and mental blocks that my physicality has built up for me which prevent me from doing the things I want to do and being the person that I want to be

To have a healthy relationship with food, with exercise, with myself, and with my mental image of myself.

To change the way I think about and talk about myself, to be less self deprecating and more proud

To be able to look at my own body and pictures of myself and find myself sexy and attractive

To be able to buy clothes in stores and not worry that they won’t fit when I get home and try them on

To get rid of the back rolls and actually see some definition in my shoulder blades

To see the look on old friends’ faces (and maybe even more so on those who weren’t friends) when they see how much I’ve changed

To prove people wrong

To prove myself wrong

To be the me that I pretend to be in my fantasies and daydreams

To be more myself, fully and completely, uninhibited and unrestrained

#weight loss #weight loss reasons #reasons for weight loss #fitness journey #weight loss journey #negative body image tw #body image tw #negative body image cw #body image cw

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give-seconds · 5 years ago

Text

I Loved you

Key: Thai is bolded.

schafzucht is German for sheep

Warnings: Jeno thinks really lowly about himself, don’t know if this counts as a warning but there ya go!

So I decided I should just make H̄ạwcı bolded (since it is Thai and I have gained a brain by part 3) Enjoy!!

----Part III

“Y/n! Y/n’s friends! Dinner’s ready,” Jeno calls from the kitchen.

Something akin to fear grips your heart as his voice rings through your head. Again you’re brought back to the numerous times Jeno had complained whenever you tried to make him cook with you, the memories making this whole situation scream ‘something’s wrong’.

“Okay,” you whisper to yourself, hitting Ten’s thigh before standing up and turning off the TV. “Up up and away y/n’s friends.”

Ten sighs and follows behind you, Jisung trailing behind him “You know Jeno, we have names. I am Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul and this is… Jisung, what's your family name?”

“Ah, that’s a long name. Mine is just Park.”

“I am Chittaphon Leechaiyapornkul and this is Just Park Jisung,”

Jeno sets the pan on the table and smirks at Ten “Well Mr. long name, you and Just Park are both friends of Y/n aren’t you? Because if not, I’ll have to kindly ask you to leave.”

You shake your head and sit down at the table, pulling out the chair next to you “Come here Jisung, sit next to me.”

Ten pouts and dramatically sits in the seat across from Jisung “You aren’t any fun y/n, they were just about to fight.”

You snort and unfold the napkin in front of you before placing it on your lap “I would pay to see Park Jisung fight a person.”

“Should I be offended there’s no ‘Lee Jeno wouldn't hurt a fly’ comment?” Jeno asks leaning over to the pan, reaching his hand out for your plate

You tilt your head as if thinking and hand him the plate “I’ve only met this Jeno guy a few times, but he seems pretty spooky.”

“Spooky?” Jeno repeats laughing, almost spilling some of the food on your plate as he hands it back. That earns him a dramatic gasp from you.

“I mean yeah.” You grab Jisung’s plate and hand it to Jeno “wouldn’t you be scared if someone named Jeno came after you?”

“Noona that’s nameist.”

Ten’s cackling laughter is all you hear as you dramatically hold your hand over your heart “Park Jisung, my own child, how could you do this to your dear noona?”

Jisung rolls his eyes “First of all stop being so dramatic, it’s not that big a deal-”

Ten’s cackling stops as he starts to choke on oxygen, effectively cutting Jisung off and grabbing all the attention.

You point a finger at him and laugh “Karma's a-”

“Y/n l/n there is a child.”

“You guys called me un-fun without knowing you were in the presence of Jenojaem himself.”

Jeno groans as he sits down “We should let that nickname die.”

“And let the god that is Lee Donghyuck be forgotten? Never gonna happen,” you say leaning back into your seat.

“And since y/n isn’t smart enough to word it correctly, I should probably mention that Hyuck isn’t dead. He’s visiting his in-laws in Canada,” Jeno glares at you in a playful manner before picking up his chopsticks “but enough fighting, let’s eat!”

“I wouldn’t classify that as fighting, more of Ten forgetting how to breathe while he overreacted to a comment. I was simply defending myself,” you say shrugging, any trace of anxiety disappearing with the family-like environment.

Ten drops his chopsticks onto his plate and stares at you “All I did was breathe.”

“Not sure ya did Tenny.”

“Knock knock.”

You smile and pull the rest of the sweater over your head “You do know saying knock defeats the purpose of knocking right?”

You open the door and Ten just shrugs “You never know, you could have gone deaf.”

“Are you dumb? Both involve hearing.”

Ten opens his mouth, pauses, and responds with “I’m sorry I don’t understand English.”

You sigh “Look if we’re going to play the ‘I don’t want to admit y/n is right so I’m just going to speak Thai’ game then I’m dipping man.”

Ten laughs and waves his hands to stop you from leaving “Okay okay I’ll let you in on my reason for coming. Jisung wants to take me down to his dance studio, is that okay?”

You glance behind you to glance at the clock “It’s 7:16, isn’t that too late? I don’t really remember how far away the studio is and I don’t want you guys to get into trouble.”

Ten smiles softly and pulls out his phone “Look, it’s only a seven minute walk. I promise that we’ll be back at ten if not before. And in case you forgot, I am your age. So I am very much able to care for him.”

You bite your nail bed and search his face for any sign that you shouldn’t let them go. You don’t know what it is, but something about the city at night scares you. Granted that isn’t a strange fear to have, you always worry about your friends walking around at night. “And you promise to keep him safe?”

He smiles “Make up your mind H̄ạwcı, first you forget that you speak Korean and now you forget that you’re talking in English.”

“Ten,” you whine glaring at him.

He smiles innocently and you sigh, “Promise me you’ll look after him?”

He grabs your hand and shakes it enthusiastically “I swear on your life H̄ạwcı that I will keep Park Jisung safe.”

Laughing you yank your hand away “Why are you swearing on my life? Shouldn’t it be your mom’s life?”

“But I actually like her.”

You gasp and raise your hand to hit the side of his head “How dare you Chittaphon.”

“Noona,” Jisung whines from the end of the hallway “can you please wait to kill him till we get back? I want to go soon so we can get a decent amount of practice in today.”

You lower your hand and start walking towards him “Jisung you promise to listen to Ten? I know I joke about him but I don’t like the idea of you two walking around this late at night.”

“Noona-”

“And I know,” you interrupt walking past him towards the door, Ten and Jisung following behind you “I probably sound insane preaching about not walking around at night, but it’s a thing I have. So just listen to your hyung okay?”

“What I was going to say before you so rudely interrupted me was that Ten-hyung already explained that you don’t like it when people walk around at night. So I already know that we will go straight there and straight back, I was also the one to suggest we come back at 10,” Jisung explains, smiling proudly down at you.

“Aw Park Jisung,” you gush as you rub his shoulders with your hands “I raised you so well.”

“Does that mean we can go?” Jisung quietly asks.

“Yeah, I mean you both know how weird I am so you’ll both be careful.”

“Awesome, let’s go hyung! Bye Noona,” Jisung said slipping out the door, dance shoes in hand.

“Bye H̄ạwcı, call me if you need me to get anything or you want anything. Okay?”

“Stop stalling, you two have fun. Be safe and don’t talk to strangers, I have no idea if this will help but Ten pretend you don’t speak Korean. Jisung don’t talk no matter what,” you ramble as you walk them out the door.

“Noona, we’ll be okay! I’m big and strong, and Ten-Hyung is… small and angry.”

You and Jisung laugh at Ten as he feigns a shocked expression and stomps down the hall.

“Don’t worry Noona, I’ll make sure he’s safe,” Jisung says as he starts walking after Ten who has already disappeared down the corner.

You nod your head and turn back into the flat before you can say anything else.

“Y/n, come help me with the dishes. I can sense your worry from here,” Jeno yells over the sound of running water.

“Jeno, you know the dish soap makes my hands itch,” you whine as you walk into the kitchen.

“I know you big baby, that’s why I am placing you on drying duty.”

An ‘ah’ escapes your lips as you walk over to the side of the sink with wet dishes ready to be dried.

Everything is silent between you two as you both work on your respective duties, but Jeno’s mind is screaming. This is the perfect opportunity to tell you everything he has been thinking, but his body is telling him it’s too scary. The fear is paralyzing and he is starting to regret inviting you over to help him.

“Hey Jeno?”

“Yeah?”

You pause for a second, deciding if this was actually something to mention.

“Why’d you make dinner? You hate cooking.”

He freezes, what the hell do I say to that? That it’s a goodbye meal because I know you’re going to drop me as soon as I tell you what’s wrong?

You chuckle softly and walk behind him to the sink and turn off the facet “If you’re done, turn off the water silly. You know I hate that.”

He blinks as your voice registers in his head “Yeah, sorry.”

You walk back to your drying station “So, the dinner?”

He turns to face you, looking anywhere but at you “Um it was because I wanted to do something special.”

“Special? Special for what?”

He can feel the anxiety bubble in him, how can people in the movies do this? How are playboys a thing?

“Um that’s something I have been meaning to talk to you about. Do you want to sit down?”

You shake your head, the fear and anxiousness trickling back “I’m not feeling that well, so I’d prefer to stand if that’s okay.”

“Yeah of course it is,” he pauses, he has no idea what or how he wants to say. He just knows that he has to say something so this can all end and everyone can start over.

“I have no idea how to say this to you, I have never done this sort of thing before. And I’ve only said it out loud to one other person, so this is all new to me. And I’m sorry if I am rambling, I’ve never been this scared before,” he pauses again, trying to think where he should start explaining.

“Please don’t be afraid. I won’t judge you for anything as long as you’re telling me the truth, that’s all I want from you Jeno.”

He glances at you, one look sending his eyes back to the floor. You’re looking at him with such worry again, worry that he doesn't deserve in the slightest.

“Like I said I have no idea how to say this, so please forgive me for sounding like an idiot. But I guess it all started about two or three weeks ago? Well, way before then but I noticed it about then anyways,” Jeno feels the tears prickle at his eyes and he reaches up a hand to drag his bangs over his face. He’s not ready for the disgusted look he’ll get from you, the look of someone who has been sleeping next to a gay man.

“And I think,” his voice cracks and he quickly wipes his face “I think I’ve made a horrible mistake.”

Your fear starts to double when you hear his words “The cheating kind of mistake?”

For a second his head whips up to you and he frantically shakes his head “No, not exactly.”

“Exactly?” Oh god, he did cheat on me.

He lowers his head again and responds quietly “I don’t... I can’t love you anymore.”

Your heart stops and you stare at him. Leaning on the counter for support, you feel your throat start to burn. “Um, what what do you mean?”

He wipes his face again, finally looking up at you “I am not able to look at you as more than a friend y/n, I’m” tears start running down his face “I’m gay.”

Your own tears have started to pour, here is the man you love and were going to marry telling you he doesn’t love you “How- how long have you known?”

“Only for a few weeks, I swear to you I didn’t know when we started dating. I promise I didn’t know.”

“How could you not know?” you whisper.

“I am so so sorry y/n I really am, I didn’t know until Jaemin came back.”

And then the room goes silent. Jeno stares wide-eyed at the floor as he realizes what he just said and you feel yourself break. You cover your mouth and sink to the floor, pulling your knees to your chest. You were just the closest thing he had to Jaemin, he never loved you for you.

Jeno sits on the floor with you, heart pounding in his chest. How could he have been so stupid as to say that? If there was any chance of you forgiving him after this, he had just lost it.

After a minute of silence, Jeno whispers “I am so sorry, I never meant to say that.”

You lean your head against the cabinets “So you were just going to leave the fact that you only stayed with me because you were too afraid to ask out my brother?”

He flinches at the words, he knows they’re true but it was deafening to hear “I really am sorry, I guess this is just my hamartia.”

Wiping your tears with your hand you send him a pointed look “Jeno I know I speak Korean pretty well, but I have never heard that word in my life.”

“Sorry,” he whispers, eyes never leaving the floor. He’s silent for a minute, brain working to come up with an understandable definition “It’s a tragic flaw belonging to a hero. This is just my tragic flaw.”

“You being gay isn’t your flaw. That isn’t the issue here. The issue is that you knew for weeks and you didn’t tell me. The issue is,” you close your eyes as your breathing becomes faster, your mind becoming fogger “um the issue is that you chose me because you couldn’t have Jaemin.”

“I know I know and I’m so sorry,” he bows his head, squeezing his eyes shut. He can hear your breathing become irregular and wants nothing more than to comfort you.

“Listen I get that this isn’t your fault, you didn’t pick who you like. I’m not mad that you’re gay, I’m really not. I’m mad that you led me on.”

“It was never my intention-“

“I don’t care what your intention was, you still did it. And I can only imagine how hard this was for you to admit, but this is earth shattering to me. I just found out the man I love doesn't love me back, he loves my brother more than he’ll ever love me,” you press your back against the cabinet and push yourself up.

You see Jeno scramble to his feet, his eyes still trained to the floor. You focus on trying to keep your breath stable as you whisper “I’m going to YangYangs.”

Jeno quickly looks up at you “I can go, this is your place I shouldn’t stay here.”

“No offense Je, but I don’t really want to sleep in our room,” and before he can say anything else, you walk to your room to pack an overnight bag. You feel the tears stream down your face as you try to focus on the task, mind becoming mushy.

As you’re adding the last item, you freeze. You put your hands on either side of the bag and crouch down into a squatting position. And then, you just cry.

For a minute, you just sit there and cry. If he respected you at any point he would have told you sooner. How could he do this to you? How could he lead you on for two weeks while he knew? You take shallow breaths as your mind replays the conversation in your head, magnifying the part where he only loved you because of your brother.

You grab your phone and turn to rest your back against the foot of the bed. Taking a deep breath, a last ditch effort for normality, you press the call button.

“Sup Y/n.”

“Hey Yang.”

“Are you crying?”

“Uh yeah” you bite your lip “I’m not doing so hot. Can you please come get me?”

“Yeah, want me to get Jaemin? He’s on the way there.”

Your heart hurts at the name, before breaking at the fact that thinking about him hurts. “Please don’t, I’ll explain everything to you once we’re back to your place.”

You hear the door open and close on his end “Okay I’m on my way, do you want to spend the night?”

“If that’s, if that’s okay,” you lightly hit your head against the bed, eyes stinging behind your eyelids. You can feel yourself losing composure and that scares you almost more than anything. Because that means you’re getting more anxious, which means more tears, which will make you seem weak.

“Of course, I’ll send a quick text to Yuta-Hyung and he’ll go spend the night at his girlfriends. Then Ten can spend the night too if he wants.”

You bite at your nail, heart rate increasing as you remember Jisung, “Yang I’m so sorry. I forgot to tell you, I have a foster kid now. And that means he has to come with too. I’m so sorry to spring this on you, I know I’m already asking for a lot.”

He chuckles “You’re okay kid, I’m excited to meet him. I hope he can keep up with this family, because he’s gonna be in for a lot if he can’t.”

“Yeah he’ll be fine, he’s like the worst mix of you and… yeah the worst mix of you” you mute your end of the phone as you let out a sob. Never could you have thought the name Jaemin, a name that normally makes you excited, would hurt so much.

His booming laugh breaks your thoughts “Then I’m definitely gonna love him. We can plot against you.”

You unmute the phone to force a soft laugh “You can count Ten in on that too I’m sure.”

He hums in agreement before softening his tone “I’m about 3 minuets away, so I’ll be there soon. Do you want me to stay on the phone or what?”

You sigh and run a hand through your hair, finally opening your eyes “Just knock when you get here and we can go. I have to pack a bag for Jisung and Ten.”

“Okay, don’t hesitate to call if you need anything else. I know how you feel about crying but it really isn’t weak, you’re one of the strongest people I have ever met.”

“I will, thank you. Bye bye” you say hanging up to get him to stop talking. You appreciate his words, you truly do, but they are just too much right now.

You stand up, still struggling to breathe, and leave the room to go pack a bag for the two boys. You busy your mind with digging around in Ten’s closet for some comfy looking clothes.

When was the last time this happened? I can’t even remember, I thought I was over this. I’m so pathetic.

You scoff and wipe away the fresh tears leaking from your eyes. Now isn’t the time to feel sorry for yourself, you can’t let Jeno see what he’s done to you. You finish packing Ten’s bag and glance at the clothes you had folded earlier for Jisung, the ones belonging to Jeno. You look down at the folded clothes, tears creating little dark circles on the shirt. You don’t want to cry anymore, so you grab the clothes, throw them across the room, and you scream.

Jeno flinches as your scream hits his ears. He had expected you to scream, cry, maybe even call him disgusting. He hadn’t, however, expected you to want to leave. All the breath leaves his body and his ears ring. He takes quick, shallow breaths to try and refill his lungs.

You’re going to leave him, you’re going to walk past him and straight out the door. And then he’ll be all alone. He won’t have someone to come home to, he won’t have someone to wake up to, and he definitely won’t have someone who loves him. He knew this was coming, but reality always hits harder. He hasn’t moved from the kitchen, regret freezing him to the spot. Why did he have to be this way? Why couldn’t he love you like you loved him?

He laughs bitterly, loved. You loved him, past tense, meaning there wasn’t any more love in your heart for him. Tears stream down his face and he tips his head to look at the ceiling. If this was such a good idea, why are we both crying? I should have lied, told her something else. God, why did I drag Jaemin into this? He is my best friend and I repay him by hurting him and his sister.

“Lee Jeno,” he whispers, voice full of distaste “you always ruin everything.”

A knock at the door draws his attention away from himself. He shakes his head, trying to clear his thoughts enough to decide if he should just ignore it. Before he can completely clear his thoughts, he hears the door to the guest room opening. His blood runs cold and his vision hones in on his ex-fiancée.

You stop in your tracks as you make eye contact with him, you notice his red eyes and think you probably look just about the same. As you close the door behind you, you can’t help but think how much has changed in the last 30 or minutes. Thirty minutes ago, the sight in front of you would have caused you to rush to his side, wipe his tears, and ask him what was wrong. But now, you can’t help but feel too exhausted to care.

So you draw in a shaky breath and start the walk towards the front door. This house used to be your everything. You can name at least five things in this kitchen alone that has given you a bruise, and with each bruise you can hear Jenos laugh echoing through the memories.

You feel Jeno’s eyes on you as you approach the door, and just as you reach out your hand to turn the knob you hear him whisper three words.

“I’m so sorry.”

As you push the door open, you can’t help but wish those three words had been different. You wish they were words you knew you were never going to hear from him again.

YangYang greets you with a smile and you take a deep breath, ready to depart into the dark city.

YangYang grabs one of the bags from your hand and links his free hand with your newly freed one.

“So I’m thinking we start a movie binge.”

You sigh “I don’t know Yang, I’m not feeling too well.”

He swings his bag dramatically “I’ll order some crappy Chinese food too, it’ll be great.”

You smile slightly at his childlike behavior “You’re not even listening to me are you?”

“Mulan or Aladdin?”

You freeze in your tracks, pulling YangYang back slightly “I have to call Ten and Jisung, and I have to send them your address. What am I going to tell them? I haven’t even told you why I left.”

He gently pulls you back into a walking pace, smiling softly “It’ll be okay. Once we get back to my place, we can talk. And then if you want I can be the one to send the text to Ten. I have his number, this way we can test his Mandarin reading skills.”

You close your eyes to keep the tears from falling. You had managed to calm down slightly by the time YangYang had arrived, and you were hoping to keep your composure in public. You’ve always hated crying in front of people, it made you feel weak. Especially when you were asked by school nurses if you were on your period, or your mom on the drive home telling you it’s hormones.

“Yuta-Hyung might still be there when we get back, but he said he’ll try and be out soon,” YangYang says quietly.

“If it’s too much trouble he doesn't have to go, it’s his house over mine.”

YangYang nods his head, eyes never leaving the street in front of him “But he understands. When he first came from Japan, he used to cry a lot. And when he got like that one of the things that made him feel better was when I dragged him to spend hours in the Japanese market. And I know that whatever is up with you isn’t the same, but he understands being sad and wanting someone. Plus he’s just a nice guy all around.”

You nod your head, you start to recognize your surroundings. You’re almost to YangYangs, you’re almost safe.

“Remind me to thank him later, I’ll try my hand at Japanese food.”

“It’d be a bigger thanks if you just didn’t cook at all.”

You gasp and try to pull your hand away to hit him, but he only holds your hand tighter. With your hand being held captive, you decide to settle for mumbling a “You never complain when I cook.”

“Yes, well you make good English food and decent Korean food,” he releases your hand to pull the door to the flat building and hold it open for you. “But you ain’t Japanese.”

You scoff and walk past him towards the elevator “Just because I am not a Japanese person doesn’t mean I can’t make Japanese food.”

The elevator dings open and you both walk in, YangYang pressing the 3rd floor button “Yeah, but it also doesn’t mean you can make it well.”

“You wound me.”

The rest of the walk to his flat was silent. You appreciate the banter, you knew it was to make you feel better. But it is hard to keep up when all you want to do is to shrink into yourself and cry.

As soon as you walk into the flat, you feel any sense of self-composure you had slipping away. You set your bags down in the hallway leading to the bed rooms so you can grab them when you walk back.

YangYang sits at the living room couch, patting the spot next to him “How do you want to do this, kid?”

You sigh and run a hand through your hair. You’re utterly exhausted and want nothing more than to just find a bed to sleep in forever. “Can I just steal this blanket, steal your arm, and talk at you?”

“Come here my child,” he picks up the blanket for you to get under. You smile slightly and let him wrap the blanket around your shoulders before you scoot under his arm.

“So I don’t even know how to start this, you know I hate crying and everything about this makes me want to cry.”

“It’s okay, just say what you want and I’ll follow along.”

You nod your head but have no idea where to even start. How do you tell someone that your fiancé doesn’t love you anymore because they’re gay?

“Jeno texted me while I was at work today saying that he had something he wanted to talk about, that it was about what happened when he left the café early. He even offered to cook, which Jeno hates doing. So I knew something was wrong, I had this feeling in my gut. And then Ten and Jisung left to go dance, so it was just me and him doing the dishes. And at first I thought he was cheating on me,” your voice breaks and you can feel your eyes start to sting. You pull the blanket closer around you, YangYang rubbing your shoulder to encourage you to keep going.

“He told me he wasn’t cheating on me, but that he is,” you feel your breaths get shallower again, the tears streaming down your face. You push yourself further into YangYang in hope that you’ll feel less alone. “He said that he’s gay.”

YangYang sucks in a breath as he tightens his grip on you. He is completely and utterly speechless.

You cry into his side, voice cracking as you try to justify yourself “And I just don’t know how to feel. I love him so so much, and he is able to look me in the face and tell me that he can’t love me like he wants to. He said,” your body shakes as you let out a sob “he basically said he only stayed with me because I reminded him of Jaemin.”

You want to continue, but you can’t breathe. Tears are pouring faster from your eyes and you pull your knees to your chest. YangYang whispers comforting words to you, tears threatening to escape his own eyes. He has always thought of you as an older sister, you have always been so strong in his eyes.

When he was first adopted, his lack of English skills made it hard for him to communicate with your family fully. And as he was still grieving from the loss of his grandmother, he tried to do everything in his power to remind your parents how much he didn’t want to be there. One day, after six months of this, your dad had had enough of his attitude and decided to tell him what he thought of it.

To say YangYang was afraid was an understatement. He had never seen someone that mad at him, let alone a 38 year old man yelling at him in a language he didn’t understand. And then you came in, shakely standing between him and your father. Words were exchanged, words he couldn’t follow because he was staring at you. The next thing he knows, you're pulling on his wrist and dragging him to his and Jaemins shared room.

“It’s okay schafzucht, it'll be okay. Just please try to be good, for you okay?”

As you tucked a piece of hair behind your ear he was able to see how your hands shook. But when he met your eyes, they were steady and looking at him like he was family. He had dumbly nodded his head, eyes following you as you gave him a tight lipped smile before slipping out the door.

That was the first time he had felt truly welcome. Your mother was very kind, she had made sure to smile at him and let him pick what they had for dinner every Thursday. She was also the one to sign him up with an English tutor, making sure to accompany him to the first few lessons until he felt comfortable going on his own. But it still felt like he was a temporary addition to the family, and he hated it. He thought if he acted out, your parents would send him back. He didn’t have a problem with you and Jaemin, he just missed his grandmother and the familitary of Germany.

So five minutes later when he set out to thank you and found you crying on your bedroom floor, head between your knees, he felt so guilty. He’d been frozen in the doorway, staring at you as you slowly raised your head. Your eyes were red and your cheeks were wet with un-wiped tears, you looked so small in that moment. He remembers feeling a sense of responsibility wash over him, you had cared for him so now he had to return the favor. He walked over to where you were sitting and sat in front of you spreading his legs on either side of you. He opened his arms and for a moment you just stared at each other. But with a fresh wave of tears, you scoot into his arms. He wraps his arms and legs around you, rocking you slowly while he sings a song his mom would sing to him when he was young.

“Can you text Ten? I don’t want him and Jisung going back to the flat. Tell him I have clothes for them,” you whisper. Your tears had stopped but you were still clinging to his side.

“Of course,” he leans forward, trying his best not to move you, and grabs his phone. He sends a text to Ten telling him that you were here and had bags for everyone.

Ten replies with an okay and to send them the address so they could start walking back.

After sending the address he puts his phone face down onto the cushion next to him “They’re on their way back now, what do you want to do?”

You sigh “I don’t know Yang, I really don’t want them to see me like this. Can we just go to bed?”

He nods his head “Of course kid, anything you want. Yuta-hyung said I could use his room, so someone could sleep in there, you can take my room, someone out here, and I’ll take the floor. Sound good?”

“Can you sleep with me? I feel really lonely, and I just don’t want it. I know sharing a bed with your sister isn’t very cool, but when have you ever been cool?”

He scoffs and glares down at you “Being the kind and generous person I am, I am going to pretend I didn’t hear that and still sleep with you. Go ahead and get changed, I’ll set out some blankets and pillows for the guys. We’ll take Yuta-hyungs room if that’s okay.”

You nod your head, detaching yourself from his side so he can move. You grab both the bags you had packed, stopping by YangYangs room to place Ten and Jisungs' bag inside. Bringing your bag with you to the bathroom, you place it on the ground next to the sink. Not feeling particularly in the mood to wash your face, you decide to just rinse your face off with water a few times and call it a day. After you change, you rummage through your bag looking for your toothbrush. You close your eyes and run a hand through your hair as you realize that you forgot to pack the toothbrushes, the little mistake making you want to cry again.

Before you can actually cry, you gather your bag and dirty clothes before heading to Yuta’s room. Your body feels numb as you set the bag near the closet and sit on the bed to wait for YangYang. Grabbing your phone, you send a text to Jisung telling him that you were going to miss him when they got here but that you’d set up a way for him to get to school in the morning.

He responds by sending a photo of him and Ten with the caption of ‘Don’t worry Noona! Ten-hyung said something happened and that he’d take me to school tomorrow.’

You smile at the photo and set the phone on the bed side table, lacking the energy to respond.

“Who’s ready to get their sleep on?”

You roll your eyes “I can say I think this is the earliest I’ve gone to bed in awhile.”

He crawls into the space next to you and pulls up the blanket so you both can get under “It’s almost nine, it’s fine. We’re old now so we have the right to sleep early.”

You hum as you turn off the lamp, settling into the bed with your back to his “Whatever makes you happy schafzucht.”

He smiles at the name “I haven’t heard that nickname in awhile.”

“I wanted something to remind me of the past, something that makes me remember when all three of us were happy.”

He sighs and scoots so his back is touching yours, he knows you like the contact. It helps you to feel less alone “I love you y/n.”

“Love you Yang.”

------

Thank you so much to @mozartwasajungkookstan for helping me edit it! I would love any feedback you guys have. I hope everyone has a good day/night!

Taglist: @jnctzen

Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Part 2 | Part 4

Summery: Your fiancé starts acting different once your brother comes back to Korea after working for a year in England.

#nct imagines #nct scenarios #NCT #nct jeno #nct ten #nct taeil #nct jaemin #nct jisung #wayv yangyang #wayv ten #kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop imagines #jeno x jaemin #jeno x reader

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fuwafuwamedb · 5 years ago

Text

A Cursed G Pt 19 (Hakuno, Gilgamesh, Rin, Sakura)

Previous Part: One - HakuPOV / GilPOV, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18

_____

“Hakuno.”

She was doing her best not to touch him today.

The moment that the morning had come, she’d found him lying atop her. He’d begun kissing along her person, taking his time about getting up when she’d noticed the hour.

They were running late.

In fact, seeing the time in the car, she’d surrendered her first class and simply skipped. They walked in with their usual drinks in hand and gone to her next class. This time, when he pushed a candy her way, she forced herself to take more notes. When she found his hand close enough to hold, she kept her hands occupied.

She held her notebooks with both hands when they walked from one class to the next.

By lunchtime, she’d known he’d figured her out.

“Hakuno,” Gilgamesh said again, setting her bag on the chair next to Rani and glaring at her. “What are you doing?”

“I-I don’t know what you mean.”

They both knew that was utter bullshit. She could see that gaze promising swift punishment for that boldface lie.

“I am just trying to focus today. I have exams coming up and there are other things we need to be thinking about.”

There were so many other things that they needed to be thinking about. The more she thought about it, the more the things seemed to pile up. With her magic, she had an edge. Perhaps, if she could just harness that magic a bit more to her own aims, maybe win some contests or something…

“You’re worrying alone. I thought we had worked through that.”

She tensed a bit, grabbing something from the lunch line and finding Gilgamesh picking something else. Her plates were becoming quickly filled with him next to her.

This conversation really wasn’t doing anyone any good.

“We should talk about this later.”

“Or we could talk now and I could avoid the headache that is you avoiding me for the entire afternoon.” The man glanced at her, narrowing his gaze a bit. “Is it fear for your own body that makes you do this or did something happen while I was asleep? I did not sense anyone come in.”

“It’s neither of those things.”

“It’s something.”

She glanced his way, paying for their food and heading over to the table.

They listened mostly to everyone else talk today.

Rin was having a heated debate with Rani over something from class. Rani was complaining to Emiya about leaving a light on in her vehicle and killing her car battery. Sakura was looking exhausted…

“Are you alright?”

“I had a case of mistaken identity happen yesterday,” she told her. “I thought I saw Rin, but the woman was just… Have you ever met someone and just instinctively thought they were a bad person?”

Oh boy, Rin lookalikes with bad person written all over them?

Hakuno gave a nod.

“You should go home,” Gilgamesh told the girl.

“I would, but we have our test today,” Sakura told him.

Shit.

Hakuno glanced at the others, finding them caught up in their conversation.

She’d forgotten about their test today. It wasn’t hard to believe since she’d been stuck handling the whole ‘my cat is actually an ancient king who has a very, very deep love for cuddling’ situation, but that was not going to be a good excuse.

Gods, she didn’t believe that excuse for a second. She’d been all too happy to toss her studies onto the backburner. At least, all of them but the ancient civilizations class.

That, she was doing remarkably well in.

“Sakura,” Hakuno grabbed her hands. “Can I see your notes?”

“Hmm?”

“I forgot to study.”

Emiya snorted. Gilgamesh scowled at her more, spurring Cu Chulainn soon enough to become involved in Rin and Rani’s argument.

“You forgot to study? What about last night?”

“I was busy.” Cuddling.

“The night before?”

“Something came up.” It’d been Gil’s mouth against her.

“What did you do over the weekend?” Sakura asked.

“I had… the engagement.” She’d had Gilgamesh become human and there had been a great deal of things to do to get him acclimated enough to not be a menace to her life in any truly obvious manner.

Sakura clicked her tongue, pulling out her notebook from her bags and handing the golden information over.

“Hakuno,” she chastised. “I know it’s exciting, but if you want to graduate and get a good job, you really need to study.”

“She will be fine,” Gilgamesh argued, turning away from his entertainment to butt into the conversation.

“What? Are you going to make her a housewife?” Emiya asked.

“I find it so interesting when your mouth moves,” Gilgamesh purred, narrowing those red eyes of his and watching the man on the other side of the table. “You seem to actually dare to give enough effort to allow speech to come forth. It reminds me your audacity far exceeds your self preservation.”

Hakuno stopped the argument by kicking Emiya.

The man gave her a look before scoffing.

They really needed to learn to get along.

She would need to make that some kind of stipulation. Gilgamesh did like bartering. And he did get along with Cu Chulainn in terms of the work that the other was doing on construction projects. Maybe if she could find something that Emiya and him had in common-

“Hakuno?”

Hakuno glanced over at Sakura.

“I ah… I was wondering if Gilgamesh knew anyone around here. You both are going to your classes, but I was wondering if he was thinking about attending or if he had business that he did here.”

Shit.

Why did Sakura have to ask good questions? She couldn’t just accept like the others did.

Emiya glanced over at Gilgamesh, nodding at Sakura’s question.

“She does bring up a good point. How exactly did the two of you run into one another?”

Damn it all. She sucked at lying!

“The library.”

Everyone, including her, looked at Gilgamesh. The man himself pulled one of the books from his bag and set it on the table.

It was the tacky version of the Epic of Enkidu that had some cuneiform in it. She’d gotten it for translation purposes.

“I am a collector. Unlike many tasteless merchants and people these days, I have enough money to not need to work and I looking into getting this book for personal reasons when Hakuno attempted to snatch it from me.”

What?

Cu Chulainn snorted at the thought. Rin and Rani raised an eyebrow, already judging her for that bold move.

“So you fought over a book?” Sakura asked.

“Hakuno managed to chase me out of the building and we ended up arguing straight to my dinner reservation.”

“And then…“

“And then I found a woman daring to argue with me in a five star restaurant about something that no one else would care about without any cares to her appearance or her person,” Gilgamesh purred. “She was more than happy to complain to me up until the moment I pulled out a chair for her, threw her into it, set the book before her, and told her to eat with me.”

The table was quiet at that.

“Naturally, I went back to my hotel for a while, but I found I quite like the domestic life. The early mornings tangled with one another and the feeling of Hakuno’s-“

“OKAY!” Rin waved her hands. “I don’t want to hear about this. Nice story. Good to know the wedding budget will be nice and large.”

“Hey, Rin-“

“Don’t even bring up that time, Cu.”

The woman sighed, but Hakuno simply turned her attention back to Sakura’s notebook.

She could see Gil’s hand nearby.

Without even needing to be asked, he’d lent a hand. She was being difficult and he was bearing with her.

Her hand wrapped around his as she turned the page.

No one deserved to have someone be bitchy when they were being polite. She’d settle down, unless he tried to be impossible.

They ate after she studied for a few minutes. Once that was done, she went ahead with bringing Sakura’s notebook to her next class.

The test, as she found it, was a mystery of questions she felt lukewarm about.

Perhaps she’d done well. Perhaps she’d bombed it.

Her face pressed against Gilgamesh’s chest the moment they left the room. She had to wait for Sakura to get out so she could return the girl’s notebook.

“That hard?”

“It was awful.”

Gilgamesh made a noise before wrapping his arms around her. His lips met her forehead as she looked up at him. Her nose was the next thing he kissed.

The test may be bombed, but she did have a meal ticket.

Strangely enough, Gilgamesh was apparently some private citizen with more wealth than brains. She’d ended up hitting the jackpot in saving the poor fluffy cat from being devoured by hounds in a back alley on her way to her home.

“Stop frowning so much,” the man complained.

“Stop complaining,” she countered.

The man laughed, pulling her tighter to him.

Maybe, once she got him back to Uruk, she could get a few tablets and things from the man. She could have him place them somewhere where they’d age and be preserved and she could go find them and sell them so she’d be set for life. Or maybe, since Enkidu was clay and not human, they could have Enkidu find her with those valuables and give her all the money she needed so she could just have some fun instead of studying forever.

Ah, but get rich quick schemes were always fraught with problems.

Probably best off here.

The thought of being able to enjoy her studies more without the weight of responsibility felt nice though. It felt especially nice with Gilgamesh’s lips moving to hers now, the magic between them sparking to life.

It had been a while since she’d done anything with her abilities.

“Even if you have failed, the test was unimportant.” His hands moved along her back. “Such frivolous debates over morals are things that are set forth to distract from what’s important. You can spend a lifetime arguing your place and find that you have accomplished nothing more than cry like a child. It won’t bring food to your place nor pleasure to your soul.”

Was he really comforting her?

Hakuno went to speak when she caught sight of the door opening.

She handed Sakura her book and thanked the woman quickly before turning away. She kept her hand in Gilgamesh’s own as they headed back out to the car.

He pressed her against the vehicle a moment before Hakuno sighed.

She just…

She liked everything about this; the attention, the companionship, the comfort, the comradery, the fact that she had someone to open up to and talk to, the fact that Gilgamesh seemed to be all too happy to tear down any silence between them. She liked the way he fell asleep with his bangs falling into his face, making him look more innocent than he was. She liked watching him practically preen when she used the blowdryer on him.

Her mouth moved against his.

Her arms and legs wrapped around him tightly.

There was nothing else she could do but enjoy the ride.

The fact echoed in her head as she pulled back enough to tell him that they should head home. It echoed in the back of her mind when they read through the books he had and headed to the library for her to work.

She found herself thinking about it when they went to bed that night, with Gilgamesh’s head coming to rest against her chest.

Two more days of this.

Two days were filled with her hand in his and her mind slowly filling more and more with things she liked. He had a way of making a woman really like pleasure. He had a way of making someone feel important. Perhaps it was the fact that he was just so damn prideful and particular that it made him being less of an ass something unique.

That was why.

That had to be why.

Hakuno stared at her reflection, listening to Rin and Sakura chattering away on the other side of the dressing room with the store attendant.

The white fabric hung close to her person, hanging just off her shoulders. The lace and the detail on the dress caught her eyes, but not as much as seeing herself in the strange attire.

What am I doing?

The white dress with its hugging, flattering cut and trim alongside the white gloves on her hands said she was actually marrying this man.

She didn’t need to marry him.

They would find a way to get him home and back to his people. He had about a couple hundred wives, to a point where they didn’t matter. He sent them off to be temple maidens and wives to others once he grew tired of them. The man himself had simply ignored that statement about the wives when she’d said she’d known he had them.

There is a higher position…

He’d mentioned something more than a wife.

The only thing she could think of was a consort queen. Someone to marry into the royal family of Uruk as his equal… but that couldn’t be possible.

A knock came at the door.

“Hakuno?”

She opened the door, watching Rin grin at the sight of the dress.

“Perfect!”

Sakura took one look before snapping her fingers. “We should get a bouquet for you to hold! I’ve seen that in the movies!”

“And a veil!” Rin called after her. “GET A VEIL TOO!”

She wasn’t used to this.

Sakura returned and Hakuno found herself trapped as the two handed her the flowers and set the veil into place. The conversation resumed being about the wedding day.

Walking down the aisle of a church…

Reciting vows of loyalty and devotion to one another…

Becoming husband and wife…

The room was getting warm at that. The two glanced her way and grinned.

“You know, Hakuno, you look even better in the dress with the blush on your face,” Sakura told her.

“We’ll need to make sure to do that. I want to see that arrogant jerk cry. I know it won’t be easy, but ohhh, it’ll be so worth it,” Rin told them bluntly. “Cu actually told me his advice was better than mine the other night.”

“It’s construction though, Rin,” Sakura reminded her.

The woman waved a hand. “I know, but this is about showing a little comradery. He should know better than to simply say that Gilgamesh knew better.”

Hakuno moved to find a seat, turning away from the mirror.

The other two stopped their debate to move closer to her.

“Are you alright?”

“I think…” Hakuno glanced at the two, her mind still on the image that the two had conjured up. “I think I love him, guys.”

The two glanced at one another before laughing.

It wasn’t funny though.

She could already see him waiting at the altar, glancing her way as she headed for him. She could already see that knowing smirk on his lips, hear him stating in that oddly cryptic way of his about how he would be there. How they would simply be going to his home.

Gods, but she could imagine having him in her home as her husband.

He’s not even from this time!

“Hakuno?”

Rin was waving her hand in front of her, but she couldn’t focus. She was busy thinking about this. She was actually marrying Gilgamesh. The records would show her as Ms. Gilgamesh. Her life would always have that detail included.

“I think she’s having those wedding jitters,” Sakura stated.

“I think so too. Go get some of that champagne that they were pouring in the other room,” Rin bid, waving her off before she moved a bit closer.

She loved someone who was married to literal dozens of women.

She loved someone who was determined to go back to a time without medicine or internet or anything.

“Breathe, Hakuno.” Rin pat her shoulder, awkwardly looking around a moment before she pulled her close. “You know… It’s just embarrassing to think about now… I’m sure it’ll be fine when you’re actually there. Just… Don’t think about it. Avoid it at all costs and just enjoy the moment.”

Great.

She had the one woman who avoided relationship talk talking to her about her relationship.

“Just don’t think about it,” Rin cooed again, running a hand along her back. “You’re just having another day… but in white. It’s fine.”

“Rin, I can’t actually imagine being without him.”

The woman blushed hard, turning her face away. “That’s… Let’s not worry about that.”

“We’re like you and Cu.”

If her face could become any redder, her sweater would need to be returned for being a knock off attempt at red. The woman stuttered for a moment before Sakura returned with liquor.

“There we are,” Rin cooed, standing up and grabbing a glass. She set a glass in her hands. She took a glass for herself.

Together, the three of them clinked their glasses and glanced at her dress.

“…I like this one,” Hakuno told them.

“It’s very pretty,” Rin told her.

“I liked the mermaid one,” Sakura complained.

They drank through three bottles.

Not only did they drink through the entirety of three bottles, they went straight to a bakery for taste testing. The three of them hiccupped and Hakuno found herself crying again as she bit into some of the most delicious cake she’d ever tasted.

Her friends found themselves patting her back once more, telling her to stop thinking about it.

Because avoidance was the key word on their foraging for wedding things.

The two dragged her home stuffed, dry eyed, and slightly suffering from a hangover. The door opened to Gilgamesh glancing at her, no doubt noting the red rimmed eyes, the fatigue, and the slight flush to her features at the sight of him.

Because… she really liked this guy.

“You’re all done today?” he inquired of the two.

“Yeah. We’re done,” Sakura beamed. “I’m taking Rin home before turning in. I think we did enough damage this evening.”

He raised a brow at that, but he pulled her in.

Hakuno wrapped her arms around the man.

“You smell like food,” he told her.

“We were looking at caterers,” she murmured into his shirt.

“I don’t know what that means, woman.”

“Food.”

The man pulled her to the couch, setting her down a moment before he went to get her a glass of water. No questions. No judgement. He wasn’t even getting after her about being brought home in this state. Gilgamesh was just kind enough to bring her a glass of water and settle onto the couch next to her.

She wasn’t even sure how to put what she thought into words.

What could she say that would sound different from his wives?

Over a hundred women. A hundred; all of whom had had their own wedding nights with this man. They’d all thought themselves important and worthy of their own stories. Then they-

“It’s been a few days since I saw you like this,” Gilgamesh told her simply. His thumbs wiped at her cheeks a moment before he leaned in close. “If you are rethinking about our agreement, you should know I do not appreciate anyone who goes back on their word-“

Hakuno grabbed his shirt and kissed him hard.

The smirk could be felt on his lips.

She could feel him lowering her back against the sofa, sliding her under him and taking his time about kissing her again.

She pushed a little of her magic through her system to get the alcohol through. She wanted to kiss him sober. Maybe if she was sober, she could get things into perspective.

Maybe-

A knocking came at the door again.

She could see Gilgamesh move to stand up, his hands holding-

He’d gotten her halfway undressed already.

“Do not move,” he warned her, tossing her bra into a corner of the room. “I’m coming back to this.”

Hakuno listened to the pounding on the door and shook her head. They didn’t need to be bothering with the door.

“I am going to hate whomever is on the other side of this-“

“Gil.”

The man paused, almost to the door.

Hakuno motioned towards her room.

“If we go into my room and close the door, we won’t be hearing the pounding on the door. We can continue this.”

Whatever this was.

“You don’t have to answer.”

“And if it’s important?”

Hakuno pulled out her phone, showing the blank screen lacking of notifications. The image of him as a cat was still there, with him fluffed up after a blowdrying.

They didn’t bother with the door.

In fact, they went straight to her room and Hakuno found herself fighting to hold back the words that now echoed in her mind when they touched.

She really loved him.

She had a dangerous soft spot for this king.

There was a chance, a very dangerous one, that she’d actually try to go to Uruk with him. Even if it was only for a few days, there was a strong chance she’d try to stay by his side.

“Stay with me,” Gilgamesh murmured to her as they fell asleep together, her body alive and her nerves dancing with the need for more touch.

“I’m not going anywhere without you,” Hakuno told him honestly.

Her mind flickered to him showing the same sleepy smile he had now at the altar of a church.

Her mind danced around that ‘I love you’ confession once again.

In the end, she settled for simply holding him close and running a hand through his blonde hair, remaining awake just long enough to ensure no Sumerian love goddesses would come to harm him.

He was hers, after all.

#drabble #drabbles

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