#i prefer to write badly. i just wish i knew how to not feel guilty about it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

chrisevansgoodgirl · 4 years

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do you want more of this? isn't it glorious?

summary: requested: Imagine the victory sex after Andy wins a case. It’s a mix between the softest and most harried sex you’ve ever had, bc he’s so excited but he also wants to slow things down and just revel in the moment. also he feels guilty about working so late all the time and ignoring you for this case, so he of course has to make it up to you somehow

warnings: just smut. a lotta smut. pretty vanilla smut tho. it’s cute smut.

word count: around 5,000

pairing: andy barber x reader

a/n: so okay, if you’re upset with me that i haven’t been writing. i am guilty, definitely, but the real culprit is this story! (okay, it was technically me for being an idiot and editing a post ON tumblr instead of the word doc, but) i just got really attached to this writing and when i lost some of it, it was actually really sad and i could not make myself finish this request until literally two days ago even though i started working on it at the start of june. and plus also, i really am about to have to find a new song, running out of lyrics l o l

Andy wasn’t anything close to optimistic when he left that morning. He was exhausted because he’d crawled into bed at three in the morning. He was scattered, his keys in his office, his phone upstairs and uncharged, the files he’d been looking at the entire night either in the kitchen, living room, or his office. He was nervous, something you only knew because he asked you to tie his tie.

But Andy wasn’t some overly emotional man who needed your support to win a case. He relied on himself first, you second—and that was okay, that was what you signed up for. Andy loved taking care of you and there were some lines that that meant you weren’t able to cross.

You wanted to tell him that you knew he would do the best he could, you wanted to claim that that was all that mattered. It was bigger, though. It wasn’t him that had failed, it wasn’t even the evidence or the police. It was about politics, he had explained when you asked a few days prior. It was about a case that he had known was always going to be a long shot at best, and well, impossible otherwise.

So, you simply knotted the tie, smoothed your hand down it, and told him you loved him in gray. He scoffed. How could you not be tired of seeing him in gray at this point? Instead of giving him an answer that would make him blush, you kissed him.

He asked you about work and you told him it was just another day. Actually, you would be skipping work, not much to do anyway, and you knew that this case was important. You didn’t want to chance getting caught up in anything and making it home after him. You wished him luck on his way out and he kissed the top of your head and thanked you.

Nothing major, of course. Because he didn’t want you to know that he was worried about this. When you were just dating Andy, picking up on these signs was almost impossible. As soon as you were living together, he was completely and unintentionally transparent.

Sometimes, he would come home and it felt like he had a raincloud with him. Sometimes, he would just lay with you, hold you in his arms for hours, just wanting to hear you talk. Sometimes, he was too disappointed in himself and holed up in his office until you forced him out.

Other times, he was sunshine and full of happiness and pride. He would hold you all the same, but he would kiss you and tell you how much he loved you. He would want to celebrate, go out for dinner, plan a small vacation. You loved him always, wholly, but when he won, that was when you were happiest.

As mentioned, there wasn’t much you could do. Andy was big on little gestures. He didn’t need you to be some cheerleader waiting at his side and telling him that he was doing everything right. He needed to do this alone, win or lose on his own, and then come to you with the results. He wasn’t too keen on letting you be involved in the cases anyway, he didn’t want you worrying or hearing about those terrible details that had made him cancel the newspaper a long time ago.

So, it was a Friday, and if he lost or won, that meant that you would have the rest of the day, Saturday, and Sunday to react to it. You guys could stay home and eat terrible food, watch movies, and just be with one another. He’d told you several times that being with you was the only thing that could make him feel better after a loss.

You were baking cookies, his favorite. Oatmeal chocolate chip. You didn’t bake much, and cooking was fairly equal, so this was definitely a “special occasion” type of thing. He’d informed you of this preference on your first date. Then explained that if he had one chance to go back in time, it would be used to find the person who thought up oatmeal raisin cookies and help imprison them for the rest of their life.

It was one of those moments that you realized you would be just as crazy to let him go as you would be to keep him. If only because you knew you were going to fall so deeply in love with him. Clearly, you were right since your third anniversary was approaching.

It was four when he got home and you rushed out of the kitchen. Early. Too early. That normally wasn’t a good sign. He wasn’t smiling but he wasn’t frowning. When he looked at you, you were even more confused. There was something in his eyes, but you weren’t sure if you’d ever seen it.

You set your oven mitt on the counter. “Baby?”

He walked up to you, just watching. His eyes never left yours as he tossed his jacket onto the floor, loosened his tie, then unbuttoned the sleeves of his button-up.

“Andy?”

He took your shoulders, turning you away from him. “The wall, walk to it.”

“What?”

He kissed the top of your head, then whispered, “Come on, baby, be a good girl and do as I say.”

You turned up to him curiously. It was one of those days, you were not allowed to argue. You would say yes, and he would make it worth your while. Currently, he was trying to call your bluff, he wanted you to say no almost as much as he wanted you to just say yes.

Andy liked it when you fought a little. Sometimes. To an extent. But never when he lost, and you were too scared of that possibility. Maybe the trial was extended and the stress was getting to him. He could use you for the relief, it was one of the most flattering compliments you’d ever received. Besides, he offered you the same when you had a rough day at work.

You looked forward and made your way to the wall. Was it wrong that you were already wet? There was something about Andy. Something irresistible when he spoke to you this way, when he was in one of these moods. Something so sexy when he let you have no room to breathe, to compromise, to pull away from him at all. You were his completely and he was reminding you.

“Take your shirt off.”

You did so, attempting to hide that you were shaking. You weren’t scared, but the things you were anticipating were terrible. The way you wanted him to fuck you until you were incapable of thinking or speaking.

“Touch yourself?”

Your hands immediately went to your breasts, uncaring of how cold your skin was. Your wedding ring, especially, something that never failed to make you smile whenever it brushed your skin. You pulled on your nipples hard, letting your head fall back as you moaned.

It was a few minutes of nothing but the whimpers that came from you, before he said, “Your shorts.”

Again, you obliged. Only, this time you did so with less haste because you weren’t wearing any underwear. You expected sex, that was always a given regardless of win or loss, but you hadn’t thought it would work out so perfectly.

You hadn’t heard him move closer so when he grabbed your ass, you startled. You reached back for him, but he took your wrists in his hands and set them back to your sides.

“Keep them there. Understand?”

“Yes.”

“I love you, okay?”

“I know,” you promised. “I always know.”

“I know sometimes I don’t take care of you like I should…I get lost in a case because I believe that’s the only way I will win. But I want you to know that nothing is more important to me than you. I could win a million cases, but it doesn’t mean a thing if I can’t come home to you after every single one.”

“Andy, there’s never been a second that I’ve ever doubted it. And I love you. You know that? I don’t care about the cases, I don’t care that sometimes you come to bed late or sometimes you’re distracted, you’re the best man I know and you’re just trying to help people.”

“I know you do, baby.” His arms wrapped around your waist and he set his chin to your shoulder. “I was thinking about you the entire time today.”

You smiled. “What were you thinking?”

“How badly I wanted to be inside you.”

“Because last night wasn’t enough?” It had to be quick, it had to be a lot of things. It wasn’t disappointing, he never was, but it seemed like it only left both of you wanting so much more. Sometimes, you had to wonder if he did that as encouragement to speed up whatever he was doing.

“I will never get enough of you, my love. You know, I have this awful fantasy… Wanna hear about it?”

“Yes.”

“It’s whenever I feel like I’m losing…like I’ve just made a mistake, and all I want is you laid out on the table before me. I want to watch you fuck your fingers until you can’t move, until you’re shaking and crying, begging me to get you off because you can’t do it anymore.”

“You want them all to watch?” you wondered.

“Yeah, maybe… Maybe I want them to hear the way you scream my name, the way you beg me to fuck you harder, when you ask me to choke you. I want them to see how wet I can get your pussy without even touching it.”

“Then what?”

“Then I want to fill you up and watch my cum drip out of you.”

You sighed longingly. That was your favorite part of Saturday mornings. Most of them were spent fucking and he loved coming inside you, loved making you stand up so he could see it trail down your thighs, or getting you down to your knees so he could see it on the floor after he finished in your mouth.

“Like the sound of that?”

You nodded.

“Then I’ll make you clean it off the table with your tongue.”

You tried not to blush, clearing your throat quietly. “The end?”

“Of that one,” he confirmed.

You turned up to him, a pleading look on your face. Andy rarely ever told you about the weird shit he thought of. It was always a relaxed progression and sometimes, you felt like he was holding back.

He smirked. “If you’re a good girl, I’ll tell you some more.”

“I’ll be good,” you promised.

“I know,” he assured. “You always are.”

You nodded. “Always.”

“Okay, ‘always’ was an exaggeration,” he scoffed.

“No, always.”

He kissed the pout off your face and took your chin in his hand to face you forward again. His palm trailed up your cheekbone and into your hair. As he pressed you into the wall, he angled your face so that your cheek was pinned there.

You shuddered when you felt the first smack across your ass. It was very light, more noise than anything else, but it was enough for you.

“This is another one,” he informed. “The idea of people watching you get so needy to be spanked. The things you say, the way your body moves because you need it so bad, how you cry because you want more. I want to bend you over that table and spank you for hours until your entire ass is red.”

You made a small pleading noise, pressing your hips back more. He understood immediately and repeated the hit on the opposite side. “Andy,” you whimpered. “Please.”

You weren’t sure what you were asking for. You needed relief, you needed an answer. You had to know if he won or lost because you needed to act accordingly. You figured him not telling you in a straightforward way was just another way of either regaining or maintaining control.

You reached back without his permission, which you knew was pushing it, but you couldn’t stop yourself. Your hands found the button of his pants and you indelicately tore them open. You pressed your palm up and down the length of his cock.

It took him a moment to recover but he swatted your hands away and yanked his pants down. His hands closed around your upper arms and he pulled them back, propping your chest up as he used his own body to press you completely into the wall. It was cold enough that you tried to squirm away, but he gave you no room to move.

“Andy,” you whimpered. “Please, I need you inside me.”

He slipped his arm between both of yours and your back, you couldn’t move and that was exactly what he wanted. He used his other hand to tease you with the head of his cock. He slid up and down your soaking cunt several times and when he finally pressed in, even though it was just a little, you shuddered.

“Ask for it, baby.”

“Please,” you choked out. “Please, please fuck me. Andy, please, I need you.”

He pushed in the rest of the way and you both moaned. It was humiliating how badly you needed this. Though, last night was different. He was stressed, you spent most of the time on his lap until he couldn’t take not being in control anymore and threw you down on the coffee table.

He let you adjust around him, all the while kissing your shoulders and the back of your neck. When you turned your head back slightly, he kissed your cheek and nudged your attention back to the wall with his nose. He placed one hand on the wall for some balance, set his chin on your shoulder, and slowly pulled out.

You let your forehead rest against the wall. “Fuck, Andy.”

His hips bucked forward and yours slammed into the wall. Perhaps this was potentially dangerous, perhaps not the best investment for your hips in the far future, but fuck, this was too good to suggest that he be gentler. Last thing you wanted.

As he found a steady pace, pulling out almost completely, and pushing back in as deep as he could, you couldn’t stop moaning. He had found that spot inside you and didn’t shy away from it. There would be no teasing tonight, just him fucking you until you couldn’t stand.

His hand on the wall slid down, catching your attention. You were sure he was about to reach for your neck, but instead, he placed it over your mouth to stifle your screams.

“I want them all to hear this, too,” he muttered in your ear. “How absolutely wet your pussy is for my cock.” You had never heard anything more obscene than when he would thrust back in, to the point where his body was flush against yours, the wet sound echoed and your cheeks burned but Andy truly seemed to love it. “And this sound,” he pulled his hips back at an agonizingly slow pace, “when your pussy is desperately trying to lock me inside because you know there’s no better feeling than my cock.”

You felt as though you currently had no control over your body. It always did what it pleased in reaction to Andy, but when he decided to take advantage of the desire you felt for him, that was enough to make even you blush. It wasn’t like being married to Andy left any room for modesty or even tradition. He was a creative and demanding man who wanted to explore you in every way he could imagine.

He kept you as quiet as he could, all while grunting in your ear. Normally, you were much louder than him and you could barely hear the sounds he made, now it was all you could hear. And you had been under the impression you couldn’t get wetter, but those deep sounds that you felt from his chest where he was pressed against you and his hot breath against your skin did something to you that you couldn’t explain.

He chanted your name when he was close and it was enough to give you a completely numbing orgasm. You knew Andy loved you, but sometimes you got so lost in your own pleasure that you weren’t sure where he stood. Andy had the complex job of reassuring you that he physically wanted you just as badly as you wanted him, he didn’t seem to mind having to do so. Actually, it seemed he enjoyed the creativity that was required.

You were shaking as he continued to pound into you at this agonizingly slow pace. He was never slow because he simply couldn’t make himself hold back, but that was no longer the case. You felt the tension in his body, you could feel his muscles moving, struggling to hold onto that admirable restraint that first attracted you to him. He let his hand move to your jaw and you instantly began blurting out his name, how much you loved him, how you just needed him to keep going, and pleaded for him to fill you with his cum.

When he did, he pressed his body flat over yours. You paid no mind to how uncomfortable your arms felt trapped between your bodies or how some of your bones were digging into the wall, you simply reveled in the feeling of him finishing inside you and the moans that poured from his open mouth.

His breaths were short and his chest was moving quickly. He stayed inside you while he was coming down, chin still laid on your shoulder, head now angled to rest against your hair. He continued to hold your arms back and your jaw in his hand, and now his thumb and fingers were moving, rubbing these delicate shapes into your cheeks. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you,” you echoed. It always gave you butterflies when he requested that. It was so simple, so sweet, so little. But his voice always told you that was all he needed. Andy was not a high maintenance husband, he just wanted to be loved wholeheartedly and unconditionally.

He pulled you from the wall and his hands roamed over every inch of your skin. He started with your hips, working up to your breasts where he grabbed them hard and pinched your nipples. He moved down your stomach to your pussy, spreading you with one hand when his other hand traced a soft, careful circle around your clit.

You rested back against him, sighing. “I love you.”

“Mhm,” he hummed in encouragement. He kept you against him even as he began to walk back from the wall.

“I love you,” you repeated. “I love you.”

He turned you both around, moving toward the table while you continued to say it. It was awkward trying to walk with him still inside you and would have been impossible if not for his impressive length.

You had assumed he was going to bend you over and fuck you. That he would pull your hair, spank you, make you tell him how bad you wanted it. Nope, he wasn’t feeling predictable. It wasn’t like you ever minded Andy’s predictability, he still made your toes curl. In fact, you liked the stability of how he made love to you. You liked that he made the world outside just disappear with his insistence on taking care of you and letting you take care of him. However, that didn’t mean you would turn down anything else. You were always humiliatingly eager for whatever Andy wanted you to have.

He pulled out and took your arms once more, turning you to face him before he pushed you back onto the table. “Lie down.”

You were careful as you obliged, trying to keep the cum from dripping out of you. You gasped when he took your waist and yanked you down to the edge of the table.

He angled your hips up and you set your calves on top of his shoulders. He pushed in and then pulled out inch by inch, watching the entire time. His cock was covered in cum that he would have much preferred to see on you, so he took himself in his hand and spread what he could over your pussy and your thighs.

“Andy,” you said quietly.

His eyes flit up for a moment before his hand pressed down between your legs and his gaze followed.

“Andrew,” you huffed.

He lifted an eyebrow at you. “Y/N?”

“What happened? With the case?” After what he just did, you would spend the rest of the night on your knees with your mouth around him if he wanted it. Normally, when he lost, he did.

“Number one rule, baby. We don’t talk about work here.”

“The table?”

“Well, we said the bedroom—”

“You said the bedroom—”

“But I’m fucking you here, so it still counts.” Before you could protest, he leaned over and kissed the center of your stomach.

You snorted, rolling your eyes. “What are you doing?”

He didn’t respond verbally, he merely kissed up the middle of your torso, between your breasts before veering off to the side. He gently kissed around your nipple, then swiped his tongue over it.

Your eyes fluttered shut and your hand came up to tangle in his hair.

He repeated the same on the opposite breast before trailing up to your mouth. You loved kissing Andy. Sometimes, you would both spend the entire morning in bed just kissing. Hours. Just pressed against each other. Smiling. Laughing. Whispering against the other’s lips. It was also Andy’s favorite recovery activity. The quickest way to get him hard again.

He was resting on his forearm, opposite hand touching your face as his lips moved with yours. His kisses were long and breath-taking, just like the first time he kissed you and how he had been kissing you ever since. Sure, there were the chaste goodbye kisses, the moments when a kiss like this would result in both of you not wanting to separate even if the world was ending so you would have to keep them short and innocent, but most of the time, Andy acted like his job was to pour as much love into every kiss he gave you.

He broke away to touch his lips to your cheek, your jaw, your forehead, your nose. That was always how he liked to end it as he was stroking himself until he was ready to fuck you again.

He stood as he pressed into your asshole, eyes fixed on where your bodies connected.

Your back arched as your arms shot out to grab to the edges of the table. He was slow about it, you would even say cruel. He watched you with unconcealed smugness, a truly animalistic part of Andy enjoyed how much you enjoyed him fucking your ass. It was the noises you made, the tears that would fill your eyes because it was so good, the way you would press your body back further, wordlessly pleading for more. When he wouldn’t give in, you became impatient and bratty, and he loved having to put you back in your place.

He wouldn’t do it this time, however. He could tell you were too tired, too focused on him and the case. His hand found your center again where he rubbed your clit with just the tips of his fingers.

You were whimpering, your hips jumped, your legs pulled him in closer where they were still draped over his shoulders, you clawed at the table, possibly left some marks. This was always his goal, to get you so mindless and dependent on the things only he could make you feel, and it was an exhausting process, but you wouldn’t want anything else.

He grabbed one of your hands and brought it to your clit. “Don’t stop unless I tell you to.”

With two fingers pressed flat, you began tracing sloppy circles over your pussy. You didn’t have the muscle control to focus on one small area at this point, but you caught your clit enough times to get yourself close.

He leaned over you, hands pressing down on either side of you as his hips picked up speed. His eyes were locked on yours, desperate to see that overly loving look you gave him every time he made you orgasm.

You let your legs fall from his shoulders, wrapping them around his torso. He couldn’t be slow anymore or even remotely controlled. His hands pushed you up the table as he crawled onto it as well. He practically collapsed on top of you, his hips driving into you so hard the table was starting to move just a little.

You pulled your hand away even though he didn’t tell you that you could and grabbed his shoulders. He pressed his body flat against yours so that his pelvis would rub against your clit with every thrust.

It had been so long since you left scratches on his back. He liked them, but you were sure they had to hurt, so you attempted to find other coping mechanisms. But then, it had been so long since he was this uncontrolled, and as your nails dragged down his skin, that only encouraged him.

The table squeaked against the hardwood floor, skin slapped skin, and moans and curses fell from his mouth. You were breathless, a scream caught in your throat while he coaxed you closer to a finish. Anywhere you touched him, you could feel his muscles moving, his back, his ass, his thighs.

He fucked you without his usual concern of possibly being too rough, he simply did not care in that moment. He grabbed a handful of your hair and yanked your head back. He kissed and bit over the parts of your breasts he could reach. His hands moved along your sides, fingers digging into your hips or pressing your thighs up further to open your body even more for him.

When you informed him you were close, he leveled himself to see your face. His brow was furrowed and it was fascinating to see the way the blue of his eyes moved. Not to sound like such a cliché, but it reminded you of waves in the ocean.

“Come on,” he panted, “I want to hear you begging.”

“Please, please, please.” You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling yourself just a little closer to him. “Please, I want to feel you come inside me.”

“Yeah?” he cooed. “In your ass?”

You nodded frantically. “Please. Please come in my ass.”

His head dropped to the bend of your neck where he bit down rather hard to drown out the sound that followed his orgasm. You didn’t mind even though you knew there would be a mark, even though you knew your coworkers would eye you. No one was surprised anymore, they had this image of your husband as the sex-crazed lawyer, and in reality, were they wrong? Not exactly.

You were just seconds after him, wrapping yourself around him as tight as you could. You sobbed his name and about a million other incoherent things while he kissed around that tender spot that his teeth had just been, whispering how much he loved you and how good you were.

He pulled out and kissed you after you whimpered. He rolled over, lying flat on the table and bringing you up to his side. His fingers brushed through your hair and you both attempted to get your breathing back to normal.

You were silent, reveling in the feeling of his cum slipping from your ass down the back of your thighs. Your skin was sticky and you were sweating, your hair was sticking to your forehead and your back. You couldn’t have looked beautiful, but Andy still kissed the top of your head and claimed otherwise.

You turned your head up to him after you had both settled. “Did you lose?”

He scoffed. “You have such faith in me.”

“You’re the only person I have faith in. The jury? Well, any time you lose, they’re morons.”

He smiled. “I guess they were smart this time.”

You lifted yourself onto your forearms. “You won? Baby, you should have told me! I baked a billion cookies, but…we should celebrate! I can make a reservation, we could go—”

He took a handful of your hair and pulled your mouth against his for a slow kiss. He was the one who broke away, just to see that dumb look on your face whenever he surprised you with a kiss. “We did just celebrate.”

“No, I want to do something special for you.”

He arched an eyebrow. “Well, I have a few ideas.”

You realized exactly where his mind was going, the last place you had suspected. Really, you should know better by now. “What other boxes do you want to check? You’ve tied me up. You’ve bent me over a Paris balcony. You’ve fucked me everywhere in this house. You’ve fucked me in the car. My childhood bedroom in my parent’s house.”

“I have a long list of all the things I still want to do to you.”

“So, tell me what you want.”

He leaned up and kissed your nose. “Let’s clean up and order some food, I’ll think about it.”

You rolled your eyes as you watched him get off the table. “And was ‘list’, like, a figure of speech? Or do you have a physical list?”

He hesitated a moment before glancing back at you.

It was totally an existing list that he had hidden somewhere and suddenly, you wanted it more than anything else in the world. “I will burn this house to the ground if that’s what I need to do to find that list, Andrew.”

He snorted. “Well, good luck because you will never find it.”

#andy barber x reader #always accepting andy requests just fyi #my writing

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a-student-out-of-time · 4 years

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Rambling about V3 Again

Today I saw a really interesting quote from author Brandon Sanderson and it honestly got me thinking. He talked about what he considers the single worst thing you can do with critique in writing, and that’s if a critic “tries to make your story into one they would write, rather a better version of one you want to write.”

That got me thinking about V3.

I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that V3 is a very polarizing game, and I’ve seen many people talk about how they would’ve preferred to see the story play out, from character arcs to deaths to story conclusions. And while I do honestly enjoy seeing alternative perspectives and takes and AU’s, I feel like a lot about the game, what it’s trying to say and be, is skewed by those ideals.

I’m not saying that the critiques about the game are invalid, because there are a fair share of flaws with the game. What I am saying is that we end up talking so much about what we wish V3 could’ve been that what V3 was trying to be often ends up lost in that, and I want to talk about it.

It wasn’t until I really saw this quote that I was able to articulate all my likes and dislikes about the game and the reactions to it into a cohesive whole, which is what I’d like to do here.

So let’s ask this: what was V3 really trying to be?

Let’s start from the game’s theme: the relationship between truth and lies. This is best exemplified by the fact that you have the option to lie during trials, that you can use deception to find the truth. That’s a very different take from the previous games, where hope was associated with finding and confronting the truth.

Kokichi is another example, as he’s a self-admitted liar who claims to lead a criminal organization and it’s hard to tell exactly what he’s thinking or saying. Yet Kokichi actually helps bring the group to several truths: he helps find the culprit in trials, he reveals Maki’s identity as the Ultimate Assassin, tells the truth about Gonta murdering Miu and it’s thanks to his actions that the group later discovers the reality of their situation.

Throughout their journey, the group is confronted by numerous truths they don’t want to acknowledge, even refusing to do so and attacking people who continue to push them through. And with every revelation, there’s always those lingering details that don’t really make a lot of sense.

Let’s look at the game’s main narrative. At the start of the game, Kaede remembers she was kidnapped in broad daylight, thrown into a van, and brought to some abandoned school with a bunch of other people. She doesn’t act like a particularly nice person and is dressed differently, at least until the Monokubs arrive and give everyone their new clothes and memories. From that point, the narrative shifts considerably.

Kaede is suddenly an outgoing, optimistic leader and Shuichi is a sullen, withdrawn detective who serves as her deuteragonist for Chapter 1. She’s resolved to escape the Killing Game and tries to rally the group together. However, when her methods don’t prove successful and they start drifting away from her, she considers saving them by any means necessary and goes so far as to attempt murder against the mastermind. When that happens, she’s found guilty and executed, leaving Shuichi to take up her role as protagonist.

As you go through the game, using devices called flashback lights that apparently reawaken lost memories, you learn more and more about the reason that the group was brought here: the Gofer Project. When meteors began raining down on earth, all seemed lost until they established this project to send a group of survivors into space to colonize a new planet. A group of Ultimates.

They had established early on that Ultimates have even greater rights in this world: they’re the only ones allowed to vote and hold office. As the meteors came down and the news of this project got out, some people formed a cult that believed it was divine judgement and that mankind should be destroyed. That’s when they began the Ultimate Hunt, pursuing the candidates for the Gofer Project across the world. The Ultimates, with no other way out, decided to erase their memories of talent and live their last days as normal people.

To protect them, the people in charge spread a false story that the Ultimates had died, even holding a fake funeral for them and sent them into space secretly. However, while everyone was in cold sleep, one member of the cult- Kokichi- had sneaked aboard and piloted the ship back to the ruined and now inhospitable earth. They have no way back and no way to survive outside, and thanks to Kokichi’s claims to be the mastermind, they’ve been killing each for nothing. The group ultimately loses hope.

However, they’re resolved to continue on in their fight against the mastermind when they find a flashback light that reveals they weren’t just any ultimates: they were the next generation of ultimates from Hope’s Peak Academy. It wasn’t really the meteorites that got everyone, it was an alien virus that pushed mankind to the brink of extinction. That the cult that rose in the wake of this was Ultimate Despair.

That seems like a definitive way to link this game with its predecessors...until you really begin to stop and pick it apart. If this was about saving mankind, why did nobody have their memories right away? Why would you only bring 16 people? Why students who don’t make them suited to colonization? Why people like a death row inmate, a serial killer, a self-proclaimed liar and criminal, and an assassin?

Furthermore, going through many Fte’s highlights how much of the characters’ backstories seem very out there. Gonta wasn’t raised by wolves but a race of dinosaur people living in the woods, Kirumi is so hyper-competent that she became prime minister during the meteor crisis, Korekiyo’s killed almost 100 women and yet has never been caught, Maki can attend high school despite Japanese orphanages being too underfunded for kids to usually attend, Tenko’s neo-aikido breaks all the rules of traditional aikido and she's impulsive, has low pain tolerance, and disregards fair rules, none of which are very befitting of a martial artist.

And to conclude, even I thought that the reveal of their connection to Hope’s Peak felt very fanficy and out there, especially when the game had made no references or implications of it beforehand. But the reason for all of this is simple and effective:

None of this is real. It’s all staged.

Chapter 6 reveals that everything from their identities to the outside world they thought they knew was all just a fabrication. In truth, Tsumugi shows herself as the mastermind and that they’re actually in the 53rd season of an in-universe show called Danganronpa. Something alluded to even in the beginning of the game with the Team Danganronpa logo. This moment was very make or break for a lot of people, but let’s treat it fairly.

According to Tsumugi, the outside world has become a peaceful, boring place and Danganronpa is the only source of real entertainment the people have. A place where people literally come to have their identities replaced with those of Ultimates and then made to kill each other. This, as it turns out, was an outgrowth of the actual series we’d played before. A game that’s gone over 53 times.

This revelation is devastating for the characters. The lives and memories they’d known were all fabrications, which Tsumugi claims to have intentionally written. The Flashback lights were designed to implant fake memories to manipulate them, which is why that Hope’s Peak connection was set up after everyone gave up following the reveal of the outside world. A truth that could lead the world to despair, a lie that could lead the world to hope.

She even goes so far as to show everyone’s audition tapes, claiming that Kaede, Kaito, and Shuichi himself were willing to participate in the killings out of sheer misanthropy, popularity, and morbid excitement

Kiibo is also revealed to be the audience’s means of interacting with the game, able to carry out their wishes and can even be hijacked and used as a way to fight against the characters’ decisions.

In the end, Tsumugi claims that the ongoing battle of hope vs despair needs to continue in perpetuity and that the survivors need to sacrifice someone, since only two people can survive Danganronpa. Shuichi, however, convinces Maki and Himiko not to vote for anyone and actually convinces the in-universe audience to give up on the series. Kiibo then blows the set to hell and allows Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko the chance to escape and see the world outside and what sort of influence they could have.

Now, let’s this break this down piece by piece here, because I feel like this part of the game is often conflated. Often I’ve seen people say that Chapter 6 is a giant middle finger to fans of the series, that nothing about the series really mattered, or that the flaws of the game can simply be attributed to bad writing on the creator’s part.

I honestly used to be in that camp myself, but the more I’ve thought about it, the more I feel those statements don’t hold up to scrutiny. We often conflate writing and narrative decisions we don’t like with bad writing. However, if the creator deliberately wants the narrative to move in that direction and has made intentional foreshadowing, references, and motivations that match it, we can’t simply equate that with it being “badly written.”

It’s not bad simply because we would’ve preferred they do something different. There’s a lot of very acclaimed books out there that I’ll admit I don’t care for because of their narrative decisions, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say they’re badly-written.

Furthermore, if something intentionally doesn’t make sense in-story, that is not bad writing. That is purposeful on the part of the creator, not a plot hole. The Gofer Project is not supposed to be a logical narrative, it’s meant to serve V3′s role: deconstruction of the nature of the series. It does this in many different ways:

Sequelization: 53 is a ridiculous amount of entries in a franchise and as I’m sure we’re all aware, as the number of entries goes up, the writing quality tends to go down. The Gofer Project story was purposefully meant to be nonsensical because it’s a story in an in-universe franchise that jumped the shark long ago.

A lot of people found it confusing or ridiculous that Shuichi and Kaede would have a romantic connection despite knowing each other barely a few days. That’s also the point; quick romances are a convenient narrative device to establish a means for character growth, followed by fridging her, a bad narrative trope designed to propel Shuichi toward development. Tsumugi even said as much during Chapter 6.

Similarly, Maki’s role in the story and her feelings for Kaito were reminiscent of that as well, with him helping her come out of her shell.

When you go back, you can see Danganronpa is loaded with references to other series. Tsumugi is an obsessive otaku and went so far as to fill the entire story with deliberate references and callbacks to things she enjoys.

The Monokubs are deliberate references to executive decisions to add more marketable and merchandisable characters as the series drags on.

The fact that there are (supposedly) people willing to sign up for a killing game deconstructs the idea that some in the fandom may have had. That is, actually being in a killing game would not be fun or exciting, but horrific and traumatizing. Most of us wouldn’t be badass detectives or heroes, we’d be scared out of our minds, afraid, and want to find a way out.

Furthermore, Shuichi being repeatedly told that he’s just a fictional character and that his role is to be the protagonist, to go through hardships and come out stronger for the audience’s entertainment pisses him off so much that he wants no part of it.

The climax is ultimately a deconstruction of what the series is famous for: the battle of hope vs. despair. In-universe, this has been reduced down to a simple narrative where the audience wants the same thing again and again: to see hope win in the end. Because hope keeps winning, the audience keeps wanting more. It’s become so formulaic that the audience doesn’t want to break out of its shell and just wants to see it over and over.

The final PTA against Kiibo is not meant to be an insult to the audience, but a representation of fighting against toxicity and entitlement in the fanbase, especially the ones that don’t want change. It’s not saying “you’re stupid for liking this series,” it’s saying “don’t be like these people.”

And how does the game? An unsatisfying ending that’s so bad that it drives the audience to give up on the show, finally allowing the killing to stop. Tsumugi decides she can’t live in a world without her favorite show and decides to die.

And that brings me to what I think is the ultimate thing that people conflate about the ending: that it’s all fiction, so nothing about it matters. That the entire franchise was fake, so it’s not worth your time.

That’s exactly the opposite of what V3 is trying to say.

First, Tsumugi is a completely unreliable narrator. The kind of person who let fiction consume her entire life, yet she believes it can’t change reality. She’s a liar and a hypocrite, and there’s no way of knowing if anything she says about the outside world is even true. It could be like she says or it might not be.

The fact that they have technology that can remove memories and add fake ones adds an entire dimension of ambiguity to everything she says, especially when you consider how the beginning of the game does not match up with what she says. We have no idea what the kids were really like before the killing game, so why should we believe anything she says?

And how can we be certain of her claims that she just wrote everything as planned? Kokichi and Kaito managed to put together a plan that completely threw her and Monokuma for a loop

Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko ultimately choosing to take the words of Kaede, Kaito, and Tenko to heart, even if they were part of a fictional narrative, is proof that they still had an influence on the trio. They choose to take something meaningful from their experiences regardless of the reality of their situation. And that’s something we all do.

The media we consume has an influence over who we are as people, and it’s part of why so many of us have such strong attachments to works we love. They were often influential in help shape who we are as people now, for good and for ill, and it’s important to take that into account.

V3′s message is that yes, that is important, and that you should read and enjoy stories and fiction, just as long as you don’t let it consume your life. They can influence you and even the world at large, and so it’s our responsibility as writers, artists, and creators to use that influence positively, to use the medium as a way to change the world for the better. That the only way for stale franchises that we’re tired of seeing over and over is to demand change, even if that means walking out on them. That the only way for things to change is for us to take action and demand change.

And by the end, we may not see immediate results, but we can at least work hard at trying to bring them about. V3 ends with Shuichi, Maki, and Himiko facing an uncertain future in a world they really know nothing about, but hopeful that their actions can and will change the world for the better. Real life doesn’t have solid, satisfying conclusions and it always doesn’t play out like a story, but that doesn’t mean you should give up on ever finding something satisfying or hopeful out there.

This, by no means, is me saying that V3 is a flawless story. I can point to numerous critiques that I still think hold water. However, Sanderson’s point is that we shouldn’t criticize a work based on what we wish it was rather than how it is and what it was trying to do.

I know there’s a lot about the story that bothers people, I know there’s a lot that wasn’t polished and a lot that feels uncomfortable and hard to swallow. Like Shuichi, coming out feeling confused, lost, unsure of what to do, but choosing to see merit and things to take to heart even in a story that turned out to be full of lies and uncomfortable truths.

If you didn’t enjoy V3, I wouldn’t force you to enjoy it. If you did love it, then you should love it. These are all just my thoughts on a story that, as time goes on, honestly feels more and more relevant to me.

#mod talks #a student out of time #mod rambles #danganronpa v3 #v3

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miss-ali-lawliet · 4 years

Note

Hello

For the ask game:

3. what do you think about Light? 10, 24 and 25, please.

Thank you for the asks and honestly great questions!! I have a feeling this most is going to be a bit long, so hopefully I can get my thoughts and everything out in a way that’s easy to keep up with!

Also spoiler warning for those who haven’t finished the series!

~~~

3. What do you think about Light?

I honestly have SO many mixed feelings about him, like it’s hard to just be like ‘oh i hate him’ or ‘oh I love him’ because it just isn’t that simple for me personally, which that itself is a great sign of a character since you have to think about that sort of thing with them. Right off the bat though, I’d like to say that I think Light as a character is phenomenal. He takes the character-type of what many would consider as the ‘perfect guy’ for the main character but twists it in a way that makes the reader/viewer question the protagonist their supposed to be rooting for.

I also think of Manga!Light and Anime!Light as different people to an extent, as in the manga you watch a seemingly ‘normal’ guy who has issues with the world deal with the sudden power that was thrown on him. I talked about it before in my last ask post, but the scene after Light killed his first person after testing out is a great way to express how he feels, and is one of the few times we really see Light show THAT much emotion. He shows regret and guilt, thinking himself as a murderer and you can tell how it affected him. Anime!Light you don’t get that, and instead he seemed to just take on the task of being Kira and god of the new world without much else thought. I definitely prefer M!Light in comparison to A!Light to say the least, so I’m going to focus a bit more on the M!Light side of things.

I personally found myself wanting to have hope for Light, even though I knew that he wasn’t going to get better but instead worse over time, and honestly it’s probably better story wise to keep him as the ‘bad guy’ who stays bad instead of trying to pull a redemption arc out of no where or something. I have a feeling I’m beginning to ramble, so I’m going to try to wrap this up.

I have a love-hate relationship with Light, because even though I don’t agree with his actions and the tactics he uses to get the ‘perfect world’ he wants, and I do find his thinking flawed and find him very arrogant the more power/ego Kira gains over the world as the story goes on. Yet I find him as a character in general just fascinating. I was definitely more on L’s side of things and found myself enjoying a majority of the scenes where people simple put Light in his place and treat him like a dude with a god complex rather than what he wants/expects. There’s just a lot of thoughts I have about him, but yeah it’s just a love-hate sort of thing for me when it comes to Light.

~~~

10. Do you ship any characters?

I usually find myself being a bit of a multishipper when it comes to most fandoms, it just depends on the source material and the characters obviously. I definitely can enjoy a lot of the ships when it comes to the fandom, but even if I don’t like a pairing I do my best to remain pretty respectful about it.

One thing to note is that I can’t really find myself shipping L with anyone in the series to be honest, like I can find myself enjoying his relationship dynamics of characters but with my own interpretations and DR stuff, It’s hard to view him with someone else romantically.

Some ships I like/don’t mind though (especially when it comes to au stuff as most of these in canon probably wouldn’t work out lol): Matt x Mello, Mikalight, Rem x Misa ig? (more like the concept is sweet i think even though in canon Misa treats her pretty badly and Rem said she doesn’t think of her that way), uhhh. My brain is pulling a blank right now but these are the main ones that come to mind.

Some platonic pairings I enjoy (as there are a lot more of these for me): Matt + Mello, Mello + Near, Matsuda + Misa, Honestly all the task force have really interesting dynamics with one another, L + Watari (obviously in a father/parent way, I just like seeing their interactions), Ryuk + Light, Ryuk + Misa, L + Matsuda’s relationship is honestly pretty funny to me and honestly L’s dynamics with the task force is also interesting as well.

I think that’s it when it comes to shipping stuff atm

~~~

24. Any headcanons you’d like to share?

Oh! I feel like I have a couple but at the moment my mind is pulling a blank for some reason. Some head canons that do come to mind though deal with my Death Note DRs in some way but they can also be interpreted with the actual series itself, so hopefully this is good enough! Usually I do better with a certain prompt of some sort though for future references though!

I’ve seen a post a bit ago about Matt and Mello being roommates of some sort at Wammy House and they find themselves in that roommate mentality still when they do room together, and honestly I agree so much with that.

When Mello leave the Wammy House I see him not contacting Matt or anyone from Wammy House as he turns his focus on his side of the Kira Case, even if apart of him misses them and what he grew up around. Yet he pushes through because he’s stubborn and wants to do whatever he can on his own with the Mafia without involving someone like Matt, probably for his safety. After the explosion though when he has no one on his side, I think that’s when he realizes there’s only one other person he can truly trust and rely on and that’s when he contacts Matt to help him on the case.

Not really a headcanon as the author himself mentioned that the rivalry between Mello and Near was one-sided and that Near actually liked Mello, I do see both boys sometimes wondering what it would have been like if they didn’t have that rivalry and became friends instead. I honestly see Mello thinking that more towards the end of the case and after the explosion, but at that point he’s probably thinking it’s too late to even pursue a friendship like that with him.

I like to think that at Wammy House, Matt didn’t really understand Mello’s rivalry with Near and at times questioned him about it at first but he was pretty supportive

He didn’t have anything against Near though and was pretty indifferent on the whole thing personally, but if it made Mello happy and helped him achieve a goal he had no reason to deny.

Matt in general in general is someone that gives the vibes of not caring about much, but if you’re close to him he is literally SO loyal?? Like if someone close to him has an issue, even if he might make a comment or remark, he is always there to back them up.

I like to think that over time Light actually enjoys Ryuk’s presence, kind of like a sense of some sort of comfort that he isn’t alone of some sort? Like at first he might have been annoyed and still gets annoyed whenever he acts annoying and distracts him from work, but also I think he doesn’t like hate his company. Probably would rather be around him than Misa unfortunately </3

I think that L and Chief Yagami had a pretty good friendship, or perhaps not friendship but i’m not sure what to call it atm. Like I think L respected him a lot and Soichiro was the same towards him, and I think at times if they decided not to talk about the Kira case it’s usually pretty good for the most part.

It’s not really a headcanon but Matsuda trying his best to get some positive attention for things he does in the case is funny and kinda sweet. Most of the time L probably ignores his antics and doesn’t really feed into it, but there’s like one or two times where he actually does

It’s probably very small, probably something along the lines of “Good job.” or something but Matsuda feels so happy that he even acknowledged him like that and didn’t call him stupid for once. Definitely was a good boost in his mood

I find the thought of Light and Ryuk playing video games early on when he first gets the notebook charming in an almost funny way. Like Light probably either was talked into it by the shinigami or was like ‘screw it, I have nothing else to do atm’ and Ryuk is just happy he can actually do something and not just watch him working

Light is definitely competitive in games though, like he’ll probably try to act like it wouldn’t matter but like most things with him, but it did lmao

I find the thought of the wammy kids doing things to mess with/annoy Roger so entertaining. Like I feel bad for him, but if I were asked to assist in the pranks or antics I probably would just for his reaction alone

Think that’s all for random misc head canons for now, if you want something more specific just send a request!

~~~

25. Ramble on about whatever you’d like

Thank you for this one! I usually feel a little guilty whenever I ramble on about things in general, but the fact that some people are interested in my thoughts on things is so sweet!

At the moment though I’m honestly not too sure what to ramble about as there’s a lot on my mind and it’s hard to pick one thing and honestly it can be a bit hard to go through all my thoughts at times.

But! One thing I will always stand behind that ya’ll have probably seen countless of times so far is that the Wammy Boys deserved better and I will always say it if necessary tbh. Speaking of wammy house though, that comes to mind is that I wish I could learn more about it at times, yet I also enjoy the mystery of it in a way. It’s something I’d be so down to learn more about, but if not I’d be pretty okay with that outcome. Plus just leaves things for fans to interpret in their own ways if they want, and that’s something I definitely enjoy when it comes to the fandom is how they take something vague and turn it into so much more.

Also speaking of the fandom I’m surprised yet so thankful/grateful for is that the death note fandom is still going on here. It was such a relief seeing that I wasn’t alone in my hyperfixions and thoughts, and seeing all the talent in the art, writing, etc, is just amazing and something I look forward to a lot in all honesty. I’m also just so thankful for the people that take time out of their day to look at my blog in general. You like, reblog, or follow me? I literally want to be your best friend and if I wasn’t so nervous about starting conversations with ya’ll I definitely would have messaged a couple of ya’ll a while ago. Until then I hope you just read this and see me on your blogs and hope my reactions and comments is enough until I get less nervous lmao.

One last thing before i close the blog off is that I love L with my full heart and I adore Matt and Mello so very much. My favorite lads <3

~~~

Alright that should be it for this post! If you stuck around, thank you!

Some future posts to expect: Matt, Mello, + a f!reader based on the dream I talked about before, some L angst, and possibly something with Light :)

Anyways have a great day/night and here’s a reminder to stay hydrated and eat something if you haven’t already <3

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for-ests · 5 years

Note

Tom x reader with Tom finding out that reader’s been seeing the doctor recently and ultimately thinks she’s pregnant, plans a huge party but when reader finds out what the party’s for, she breaks down in tears and reveals she found out she can’t have children. I’m gonna need some tissues for this 😭

Word count: 2, 120

Warnings: some angst, some fluff

Thanks for requesting! And sorry for replying so late, I wasn’t sure how to write this :// I hope you like it!

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

With a surprised expression appearing on his face, Tom studied the doctor’s admittance note that you had placed on the bedside table.

Was he supposed to be reading this?

He assumed it wouldn’t be a problem since you were registered under the same insurance. It was just a scheduled doctor's appointment, which you had told him about yesterday.

That’s what he thought until his eyes scanned over the word fertility.

So you had gone in for a pregnancy test.

With his heart beating faster, Tom studied the rest of the outpatient form. There weren't any statements about if you were pregnant, only that you had been checked up on.

Tom scowled, setting the piece of paper back on the table. The two of you had married over a year ago, and had been trying ever since then, yet you were still not pregnant. You got your period every month much to his and your dismay.

But that was when he realized that you hadn’t spoken about your period this month. He immediately smiled, hoping you were finally pregnant after all this time. He was sure that you would have mentioned something so important... unless you were planning on surprising him.

That had to be the reason. And after debating for a few more minutes, Tom decided to call his best friend Harrison, who was also the best man at your wedding.

“Mate… I think Y/N’s finally pregnant.”

“Really?” He sounded equally excited. “How do you know?”

“Well…” He scratched the back of his neck with uncertainty. He wanted a child with you more than anything. This would be wonderful news, and he really wanted it to be true. “I don’t have the pregnancy test or anything, but it looks like she’s missed her period, and she got a pregnancy test at the hospital yesterday.”

Just to be sure, Tom picked the outpatient form back up to study its contents.

“That seems promising.” Harrison agreed. “I feel like she would have told you right away if she wasn’t pregnant.”

“That’s what I thought.” Tom chuckled. “I think she’s planning on surprising me, but I kind of want to turn it around on her and through a party for her.”

With a genuine, kind smile spreading across his face, Tom began to picture the future you could have together with another member in your family.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

But the reality you had to face was much more heartbreaking. Unbeknownst to your husband, your doctor’s appointment was to relay some devastating news. A fact that immediately brought tears to your eyes, news that you didn’t want to comprehend.

You couldn't have children. You were infertile.

Out of everyone, why did it have to be you? Especially when you wanted a child more than anything. Especially you, a woman that had too many people to please.

Who could you even talk to this about? You didn’t want to break the news to Tom… You couldn’t talk to your mother, whose only wish from you was to have grandchildren she could take care of.

Trying to keep yourself together for your poor doctor, you sighed deeply and wiped your tears away. If there was nothing you could do to fix it, you were going to grieve that possibility and move on.

“Adoption is always an option.” Your doctor handed you a pamphlet, resting her hand gently on your shoulder. You nodded, sniffling and trying your best to meet her gaze. She probably dealt with this often. “Don’t be hard on yourself. This is a natural phenomenon. Sometimes it just happens and there wasn’t anything you could do to prevent it.”

Nodding again, you gathered the other printouts and materials she had provided for you. “Don’t wait too long to break the news. Hiding it won’t change the truth. But with every woman it is always a possibility, your husband will understand. It could have just as easily been him.”

“Thank you.” You smiled, thankful for her advice. Sometimes all you needed was a reminder that you weren’t alone.

“I’ll see you soon, Y/N.” Your doctor looked just as sad as you, though she was better at hiding it. She left the room as you finished slipping into your jacket, leaving you alone to gather yourself and your spiraling thoughts.

For a moment, all you could do was sit there, trying to soak up the information as best as you could. How do you tell him? How would he react?

You took a deep breath and gathered your composure. You could deal with this later. Maybe on the weekend when you had time to relax and process everything. But right now, you had to go straight to work.

It was only Tuesday.

❀∙∘✿∘∙❀

It was only Wednesday. It was one of the hardest days of your life, forcing yourself to pretend that everything was okay. You still felt guilty that you had cuddled with Tom all night without telling him the truth.

All day, a permanent scowl was engraved upon your face.

For the last twenty-four hours, all you could think about was your doctor’s appointment, and what your doctor had told you. Even as you slaved away at your desk, in the back of your mind, the sadness loomed. You finished all your required work, but it was half-assed. You couldn’t focus.

You were incredibly relieved to head back home and collapse on your bed. Normally, you wouldn’t crave release so badly- but your revelation had been concealed. You still hadn’t told anyone, and that was because the news refused to sink in.

Needing to tell someone about your misfortune, you were about to burst. Especially since you were keeping such vital information from your husband.

It was killing you.

Sighing deeply, you climbed the steps to your shared flat. All you wanted to do was sleep away your problems.

But sleep didn’t come swiftly like you had planned. Your husband had planned something much more extravagant.

As soon as he sees my face face, he’ll know something is wrong. You thought, regretfully rummaging through your purse to grab your key.

But then, you heard commotion behind the door, causing you to lift your head. Thinking you heard the rustling of more than one person, you slowly turned the key. The pepper spray in your purse was just a movement away.

But what you opened the door to find was much, much worse. You would have preferred to call the police then have to face every single person that you loved.

Smiling right back at you.

“Congratulations!” They all screamed.

You saw balloons, presents, and food- filling up every surface in the apartment. Your friends were clapping and shouting until they all finally turned to glimpse the look of horror that was staring back at them.

You didn’t need a sign to analyze the reason they were there.

Who had misinformed them?

Feeling as if you were suffocating, your eyes scanned the living room. Your eyes met Tom’s, and once he realized the panic in your gaze, his smile fell.

Tom approached you. “What’s wrong, darling?”

“I-“ you exhaled shakily. He gripped your hand for reassurance.

Silence consumed the apartment. Worried looks took the place of gleeful ones.

You felt sick to your stomach, glancing around at everyone’s confused expressions, all for you and Tom’s future family. It was all you could have ever wanted, all you could ever possibly need. Except for the fact that you were infertile.

How did Tom figure out?

“Tom...” you said softly. The tone in your voice indicated something heartbreaking was about to be admitted.

Despite that, his hand tightened around yours.

“Everyone...” you looked around shyly, trying to meet as many eyes as possible to relay such detrimental news.

The atmosphere shifted at the sight of your crestfallen expression.

“I’m not pregnant.” You shifted awkwardly on your feet.

“Oh.” Tom chuckled to release some tension. “I guess I misread the form, then.”

“Of course you would.” Zendaya teased, and you turned to find her gentle smile. Despite the party being for a reason that wasn’t happening, nobody seemed annoyed or upset at the fact.

Your mother stepped forward, out of the kitchen. You smelled her cooking and it made you feel secure. “Honey, you don’t need to look so upset. We’re happy to be here anyway.”

“Mom-” Your lip quivered. Why couldn’t you just be pregnant? Why did you have to let everyone down like this?

Knowing you were on the verge of some strange mental breakdown, your mother set a comforting hand on your back. She traced gentle, soothing circles with the palm of her hand like she used to when you were a child.

You felt small, but somehow you still felt loved.

“I guess I should just get it out now.” You took a deep breath, meeting Tom’s eyes. One look and he seemed to understand why you were still distressed. You normally thrived in social situations. It was odd to see you so flustered and upset.

“It’s okay.” Tom whispered. He didn’t need to say it. You could tell them anything.

Your shoulders somewhat relaxed, and your heartbeat slowed to normal. It somehow felt refreshing to let go of the weight of this secret. Something that shouldn’t have been kept a secret in the first place.

“It’s worse than that, I can’t get pregnant.” Despite being relaxed, you still couldn’t meet anyone’s eyes, even though you felt them all on you.

You desperately wanted someone to say something. You wanted the disappointed silence to go away, but you knew your confession was much more complicated than that.

Finally gaining the courage to meet his eyes, you found him staring right back at you.

“Say something.” You pleaded under your breath, so softly that only he could hear.

What if he couldn’t love you the same? Now that you couldn’t give him children…

He could have any woman he wanted.

“That’s okay.” He promised. “Since it’s been so long, I assumed it was one of us.”

At those words, you managed to laugh. Even though tears were now streaming down your face, you could tell he was trying to keep it together in front of everyone. You should do the same.

Tom reached forward and embraced you tightly. Guilt was evident in your words, tone, and expression. Your husband couldn’t stand to see you so distraught, especially since he was the one who had put you in such a stressful situation.

“I love you no matter what.” He whispered in your ear, petting down the strands of hair that threatened to poke your tear filled eyes.

Gripping onto him tightly, you exhaled. “I love you too.”

That was all you needed to hear from him to know everything would be okay. It might not be the same moving forward, but it would be okay.

“I’m sorry for putting you on the spot, darling.” He kissed the top of your forehead as he pulled away, facing everyone that had fallen silent, unsure of what to say or do.

“I guess I should apologize to everyone.” Tom awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, still managing to look his friends and family directly in the eyes. You were far too embarrassed to follow suit. “I know you all took time out of your day to come celebrate something that’s not going to happen.”

“Ohhh,” Your best friend rolled her eyes. “Don’t be dramatic now. It's not a big deal.”

You laughed through your nose, nodding at her in appreciation. You noticed that all of your closest friends had gathered in the corner with the booze. Somehow, it comforted you to see them so relaxed despite the disappointing news.

There would still be a party, and soon everyone would forget about it. All you needed was a couple of drinks and an engaging conversation. The seriousness of your situation could be discussed another night.

There was no rush to find another path.

“I think your love is enough to celebrate.” Tom’s mother raised her glass, looking directly into your eyes as she spoke.

“I agree with that.” Your own mother smiled. “A party is still a party!”

And with that, the mood shifted into something much more optimistic. Though the reason behind the gathering had been spoiled, you and your husband had surrounded yourself with a great circle of people, who were there to support you through any decision you would make.

And in the end, that was all you could ever ask for. Whether you were able to have children or not, you would never be alone.

#tom holland x reader #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland imagine #tom holland

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shoottomiss · 4 years

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I kinda left this platform, but i felt like coming back to post this. I’m crossposting it from my reddit.

I don’t wish to reopen old wounds, but I need to get this off my chest. I hate Cleaved as much as the next person, but why the hell do we give Star so much crap character wise for the ramifications of destroying the magic? Everyone around her pushed her into making a decision no 15 year old girl should make.

Mina and her army keeping hostages within arm's length are obvious, and the two twits Omnitraxus and Rhombulous not caring who dies from their support of the coup were also overt culprits...

But why the hell do the rest of them get a pass from so many people? Moon stabbed her daughter in the back and completely lacked the foresight to see that Mina would take things too far. Yeah, sure, give the racist and her followers a legion of badass giant armor and Avada Kedavra swords. This clearly won’t escalate. Because of her, Star was put under more pressure, since Mina not only took hostages, but essentially inflicted many of Star's friends with an incurable poison- giving her far less options on how to fix things. Nice going, Moon.

And let's not forget the see-all, know-all jerk Glossaryck, who regardless of whether he's the personification or just the guardian of magic, clearly knew everything that was going to happen, at least to some degree. This all powerful being lets the decision of destroying magic fall to a teenager. Yes, Star probably should've have thought about more than Mewni when thinking of the consequences of destroying magic. But Glossaryck gave her no reason to think about that. If anything, he gave her less of reason by basically saying "the magic will know where to put everything".

But yeah, just let that responsibility fall onto a young girl. The ramifications of such a decision surely won't come back in her nightmares down the line after such vague hand-wavings of the consequences. God, I think I'd prefer a meeting with Bill Cipher. He'd probably give me more straight answers than the blue troll ever would. And at least I would know where he stands on things. Even if Glossaryck was trying to do good, he manipulated a teenage girl like she was a pawn into making a multi-world altering decision and didn't bat an eye or try to warn her against it. Yeah, he's "above good and evil" or whatever, but screw that. If anything that just means he's disconnected. Because he's so above it all, because he has become some nigh omnipotent god of sorts, that just means he no longer understands what it's like to be mortal, to fear to be killed by storms and sickness, to suffer from depression, and especially not the weight of a decision like destroying the magic, etc. He doesn’t understand the consequences of being human.

(though this is strictly about characters, I feel Nefcy was trying to tell us that societies weren't going to topple because the magic would... do something? Kinda like how seeing the ponyheads apparently means Star didn't kill as many people right off the bat. Both are hard to believe and require a heavy suspension of disbelief)

And then there's Hekapoo. Good god, Hekapoo is the worst of them. I don't care if she "begrudgingly" went along with the murderous coup, she still sat there and let it happen. Yeah, just wait it out in the Tavern Heka, it's not like you're the cause of all this or anything. She just saves the Butterflys to sate her guilty conscience and then calls it a day. She could've used her shadow clones and portal skills to save the hostages and injured, but nah. My work here is done! I did a good deed, so I don't have to worry about it anymore. And yeah, I know the Butterflys didn't even ask if she could help, but considering her attitude of "drink till I'm smashed and wait till this mess blows over", I think they knew it was a lost cause. It's not like it's out of character either, we knew she was a corrupt bigot ever since Eclipsa's trial, just like the rest of the council. If anything, I think she was okay with Star destroying magic because it meant a quick and painless death, rather than having to face the consequences of nearly getting a bunch of people killed.

The finale was crap writing, yes, but taking it for what it was, Star made the best possible decisions she was given, and was the most justified in her decisions, especially compared to everyone else.

Star was not in the right destroying the magic. But she wouldn't have been in the right if she hadn't either, because there were no right decisions to make. There was no third way out, not just beacause it was written that way (well, actually yes because of that, but I’m talking strictly in-universe) but because everyone's fuckups minimized her options.

Star, betrayed by people who were supposed to be on her side, coerced by higher powers like Glossaryck and that damn quilt (I mean it’s hard to choose not to when the big quilt of destiny says that’s exactly what you’re supposed to do), and pressured by extremist murderers, was forced to make a metaphorical split second decision. Either destroy the magic, killing the spells and magic council, and hoping everything else will be fine based on Glossaryck’s vague implications-but saving the monsters and stopping Mina now... or allow innocent people to die now and a murderous extremist with a nearly indestructible army to take over and fight a disadvantageous battle later on that will most likely resort in a lot more deaths- but keep the magic and not even take the risk of destroying it and keeping Eclipsa and Meteora (hopefully) safe. Neither of them were "good" decisions. Both had extreme consequences and grave risks. But, as the good doctor and my favorite character would say...

Also, P.S., neither Star nor Marco knew the magic would fulfill their "wish" as it died, especially not like how it did. Just... cut Star some slack on that one. Also, yes, Star treated Tom badly, but that's irrelevant to the finale, and a rant for another day. But to sum it up- why did Star turn into an asshole girlfriend when she selflessly swallowed her own feelings so Marco could date Jackie? Do Daron and her crew seriously not understand their own main character?!

#star vs the forces of evil #star butterfly #marco diaz #moon butterfly #eclipsa butterfly #meteora butterfly #hekapoo #glossaryck #mina loveberry #cleaved

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let-it-show · 4 years

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Open Wounds

This...this started as something to curb my annoyance with something else, and somehow evolved into a look at Anna’s trauma. Elsa wanted her to stop worrying about her so much and voiced it and from there, it really spiraled. I’ve always been curious about how younger Anna dealt with things before the coronation and before their parents died. Elsa’s just as curious and honestly what she gets here is just the tip of the, er, iceberg. I plan to write more about this soon. Anyway this fic is set in the same storyline as my fic “All The Love I Found In You”, however you definitely do not have to of read that one to understand this, there’s just a couple nods to it.

"You have powers. You should have used them for this. No, instead you said 'I'm a spirit!' before running off and tripping down a bunch of rocks."

Elsa cringed as Anna slammed the door shut in a huff. "I was just trying to help! It didn't require me to use my powers, so I didn't. I didn't think I was going to trip over a thing on the ground-"

"Your own two feet you mean?"

"-and not only fall down but keep rolling! No one plans for that!" Elsa rarely ever fell down, so how was she supposed to anticipate that? It was a complete accident.

"Yea well I..." Anna snorted and held up her hand but she couldn't actually say anything. How could she? It was a mistake!

"Also at no point did I say 'I'm a spirit!' That happened once - ONCE and I was joking!" Elsa went to fold her arms and winced. Her left arm hurt where she had initially fallen before rolling. Her whole body kind of ached from that, most of all her head.

"You were thinking it," Anna accused and turned around when they reached the bed, studying Elsa. Her eyes held worry in them as she looked her up and down. "I think you'll have to lose the dress. Er-not yet, I have to actually open the door again."

Elsa sighed. "What are you on about?" Walking into the room was okay but she was really feeling the aches. And she was sure she cut up her legs. One of the drawbacks of not wearing pants under her dress was...getting hurt if she fell down. Seriously, that was it.

"I'm going to clean you up, you have a lot of dirt on you," Anna told her.

"Do I?" Elsa finally took a minute to stretch out her arms and look herself over. She hadn't even had time to after crashing to the ground and going over rocks nearly into the water. Anna had been on her in seconds to haul her up and ask in a very frightened way if she was okay. Before Elsa could even answer that she was a little dizzy, Anna was already dragging her back to the castle. It was a good thing they were close to it. A guard had tried to help too but Anna had nearly bitten his head off for daring to touch Elsa.

Poor guy.

Anna nodded as she scampered back to the door. "Yes. I'll be right back just-just stay here," she said, holding her hands up and out as if to emphasize Elsa should stay put. Before Elsa could say she wasn't a dog, Anna was out the door again.

It was just like her to worry, Elsa thought as she looked back at her arms. They were kind of dirty, little bits of dirt and grass on them. Not a good day to go sleeveless, she supposed. When she looked down the light purple fabric of her dress was covered in dirt. The little designs of diamonds and snowflakes didn't show well, the white of them drowned out. If she hadn't braided her hair it would be a disaster.

The dress would have been an easy fix if it were one she created, but it was a gift from one of Olaf's little friends that had lived at the orphanage. She and Anna had helped the little girl find placement two young men who badly wanted a family and as a thank you they insisted on making her the dress.

To say it was cherished was an understatement and Elsa felt frustrated with herself for getting it soiled. It could be laundered, though.

She wasn't going to sit on their clean comforter with, well, a filthy butt, so she paced. Her ankle complained; she hadn't twisted it but she had knocked the side against something. There were some scrapes near her elbows too.

The more she looked at herself the more she noticed. Her body was going to be complaining even more the next morning, and Anna would insist on taking care of her. The thought of that made her feel suddenly very guilty and she stopped in front of the window to stare at the cloudy afternoon sky. Rain was surely on the way.

Anna really did a lot for her. She cared for Elsa constantly and despite no doors or fjord between them, Anna still pushed aside a lot of her own happiness at times to be sure that Elsa was okay. It wasn't that she hovered and suffocated her, if that was even possible. Elsa never grew tired of her presence when she was there and sometimes the days kept them apart more than they wanted for one duty or another.

Guilt started to creep over her, and Elsa didn't argue with it. After everything she had put Anna through the girl did so much. Time and time again her mind reminded her of how hard Anna had tried to watch over her in the forest. Her mind reminded her of Anna's gentle touch and endless patience as she took Elsa's hands to tell her she was a gift and that she believed in her.

Closed doors, a frozen heart, secrets, Anna had carried it all on her shoulders only for Elsa to hurl it all away and break her sister's heart on that beach. Elsa shoved her into Kristoff's proposal as Anna scrambled to put herself back together in any way she could, wedging pieces of her puzzle into spaces they didn't fit. She broke her and gave her a piece back here and there, but never enough to make a strong frame, nevermind get near completion.

When she returned for good she still turned the girl's world upside down, her fiance turned best friend leaving for the north and the future again an anxious mystery.

It was as she thought about that pattern and silently berated herself that Anna returned with a pitcher sitting in a bowl holding a bar of soap, and with a cloth over her arm. The pitcher and basin were light green with sunflowers painted on, something she had given Anna during Yule. She could never give her enough to make up for her failings.

"Alright, lose the dress," Anna commanded her and she looked less irritated, more amused.

"Sure," Elsa said with a little smile. Anna's concern was definitely still there, but Elsa still knew her to be mischievous, especially when clothing came off. Her beloved was not above making the dumbest excuses to touch Elsa - one time she insisted Elsa's hands were 'colder than usual' and it was a good idea to warm them between her thighs. She supposed the kissing and eventual moaning that followed were also part of the hand-warming.

The dress was removed slowly as she left the window, easily sliding over her shoulders. Elsa preferred not to wear an undershirt normally but had made for herself a small silver one to go between her skin and the dress, plus cups to support her full chest. She was down to that and a delicate pair of dark blue underwear that she again didn't make, but liked. There was no design on them, they were just plain and looked nice.

Anna set the bowl and pitcher on their little bedside table. "The shirt, too," she said, twirling the cloth around while she stood in her little green and black sleeveless dress. Her hair had been in a bun when she left the room, but was pulled out and hung loose upon her return.

Elsa knew what she was up to. She found it adorable, but her feelings of guilt were still persisting and she was unable to really enjoy the moment the way she wanted. "Anna...I don't think my stomach or chest were dirtied," she told her matter of factly as she carefully set her dress aside.

"Gotta make sure you didn't hurt your uh, ribs," Anna insisted with a little blush.

"My arms and legs need attention more," Elsa answered softly, keeping the shirt on. Her head still throbbed but she didn't mention it. She would love to watch Anna's face light up, but once Anna's hands and lips touched her, the girl would already be in a haze and Elsa would feel terrible leading her on in that moment. "I am sure I will have bruises on them."

The words caused Anna to drag her gaze from Elsa's chest and a little frown started. "You're right. Sorry I was harsh before. It's not like you were trying to crash down like that."

"It's okay Anna. I know you worry a lot-what are you doing?" An eyebrow raised as Anna walked toward a corner of the room, toward one of two simple but comfortable wooden chairs they had. There was an armchair in the room as well they sometimes cuddled in but Anna likes chairs that could be moved around. After all, sometimes she didn't want to sit in the corner by the window, she wanted to sit by the fire but not at the angle of the armchair, and so on and so on.

With the chair firmly in her two hands she carried it toward Elsa and the table. "For you to sit on. If I ask you to sit on the bed I..."

Elsa just shook her head and laughed a little. Oh, she knew exactly why Anna didn't even finish speaking. On the bed Anna would crawl over her to wash her down and then get distracted examining every part of her body closely. Anna wasn't really uncontrollably horny but she did take any chance she could to enjoy Elsa's body. She sat herself down in the chair once placed and watched Anna.

"I wish...you wouldn't worry about me so much, you know," she managed as Anna poured some of the hot water into the bowl and dunked the cloth in with the soap. "I don't like you so worked up over me falling down."

"Then don't fall down. Give me your arm," Anna said, standing in front of her.

Elsa sighed and held her arm out. Anna took her hand and turned it over, palm up. She started the cloth on her open hand and began to slowly drag it up, lightly wiping the dirt and other bits of ground from Elsa's arm. "Sometimes I'm going to get hurt, Anna. Everyone gets hurt sometimes, its inevitable. I understand where it comes from, your worry, but I don't want to see it eating at you." Just as she said that Anna cleaned one of the longer scratches on her arm and she hissed at the slight sting.

"I don't want to see things like this," Anna said, pointing at the scratch. Her eyes were focused on Elsa's arm.

"It's superficial. By tomorrow morning it'll be a line and nothing more, it won't hurt."

"It's all superficial at first, but it still hurts," Anna muttered.

Elsa tilted her head. "What was that?"

Anna was almost to her shoulder with the cloth and she paused to rinse and ring it in the basin. Elsa's gaze was focused on Anna's face, which still only showed focus and didn't betray whatever she might be feeling. After another little pour of clean water, Anna started back down her arm. "It...a lot has happened and by the next day or next morning, we've been fine, but it still hurts. You came back from Ahtohallan, but there was still so much pain."

The words were a bit jumbled but not hard to understand. And Elsa knew how Anna felt. They'd discussed it in detail before. It also meant she knew the trauma wasn't going to leave her loving sister anytime soon as she continued to deal with it. But it was the same theory as her own fear, right?

She urged Anna not to worry over the minor incidents, the same way Anna kept on leading her out of her door after the Great Thaw. Anna never gave up on ridding Elsa of the fear that had devoured her entire being and likewise Elsa wouldn't stop with Anna's worry.

She also knew that at times, it still came back to haunt one's mind. Elsa still had dreams where Anna remained a frozen statue at her hand and when she woke she had to feel her pulse, listen to her heart, kiss her lips to taste her breath and stroke her warm skin. The panic could hold her for long stretches of time too, if she was too tired or stressed.

The thing was, she didn't feel it on a day to day basis. Now she just felt her guilt toward Anna's stability but she wasn't going to put that on her beautiful girl as well.

"I get it," she said after Anna finished that arm and held out her hand for the other one.

"I don't know if you do."

"Anna?"

For once, Anna wouldn't meet her eyes. "It's not-it's not just what happened in the forest, it's not just you staying in Ahtohallan. It's what mother and father did to you, and to us as well."

Their parents? Confusion flooded Elsa. She knew the way her parents had separated them and treated the whole...incident...was not right. They did more harm than good ripping the two from each other and keeping the truth from Anna. They caused more pain than they had to know. It wasn't a new thing.

However in Elsa's mind they did more damage to Anna out of the two of them. Her words didn't make sense. "Did to me? What are you talking about?"

Slowly Anna cleaned her other arm. It was more banged up and didn't hurt too much right then but she knew it would in the morning. "They turned you into someone who hid her hurt. Who had to conceal everything. I won't always know if you're really okay or not, because sometimes you might not realize how you are. I've seen it in you before, in your face here and there where you were definitely in some kind of pain but you told yourself not to feel for so long that...that..."

"Anna, I'm not like that anymore." It had been a mountain of a task, but she climbed it anyway. "I can admit to myself when my heart aches and old wounds come open, and I can tell when all I've done is bruise myself up as well. I can feel my pain and figure out what it is." At least, for the most part she could.

"How do you know?" Anna was so careful as she cleaned her, every touch conducted with affection behind it.

Elsa's eyes narrowed. She didn't like the behavior it was seeing, like dark clouds floating in front of the sun. "I just-I just know. I'm doing better than I ever have been, largely thanks to you," she pointed out.

Surprisingly, Anna didn't smile at that. The younger girl looked ready to cry. "Am I really helping so much? Or are you sometimes holding it all together just for me?"

"Anna!" As Anna brought the warm cloth back down to her wrist, Elsa took her free hand and squeezed it. "Now where did that come from? Please, if I'm upset or something, I'll tell you. As tempting as it is to hold back so you won't worry, I know it's wrong. You deserve honesty!" She tugged on her hand.

Anna put the cloth on the table and took Elsa's other hand, finally meeting her gaze. "I get it, I do. It's..." She worried her lip. "I'm...part of it too is I often find myself angry, very angry at mother and father. They left you worried about becoming a monster and didn't do right by either of us, I guess, but you couldn't be close with them and-"

"Anna, sssh." Elsa pulled her hands closer, drawing one of Anna's soft palms to cradle against her face. She leaned into Anna's hand and kissed it before looking back to her. "I'm not sure I caught everything you said there...it got a little jumbled. I can't say I'm surprised you are angry at mother and father. I wish...I wish you could let that anger go, along with your constant worry about me. You deserve a light heart and all the happiness in the world."

At those words Anna smiled and leaned over Elsa's lap to brush their noses. "I have all the happiness in the world right in front of me. I love you so much Elsa, I-I want to give you everything."

"I feel the same way about you, you know," Elsa whispered to her.

"I know." Anna let her eyes fall shut as she drew in a long breath. "Sometimes I'm happy it's just you and I...um, that's not to say I'm happy mother and father...it's just, I remember the time before their voyage, I felt very hopeless in those last couple of years," she admitted. "You were in your room and they-they didn't really spend time with me or anything."

"Anna..." If there was one thing Anna never really talked about, it was the later years of their separation. In fact Elsa didn't think she'd ever heard or asked how she felt then. Anna would talk about her devastation when they were first separated and how she had wished to play with her sister. She'd talked about that frustration, but she hadn't addressed her early teens.

Anna's hands dropped a bit and Elsa's came down with them, still holding, still squeezing. "You kept me going, even through the silence, the knowledge you were there on the other side of the door. I didn't understand what was happening of course and I was sad mother and father didn't give me much attention. I thought though they were doing something for you, to help you and someday we would-we would be a family."

As she spoke, Elsa was quiet, paying very close attention. She had no idea when Anna might open up again about her feelings and their parents. It was indeed rare. Her heart was beating fast as she was allowed insight to her sister's pain. Anna had paused and Elsa worried she lost steam.

However Anna took a breath and finally reopened her eyes, looking down at their hands. "I was wrong. They hurt you. They broke you and taught you not to be yourself and not to speak up. You ask me why I worry? Because I know sometimes you still don't want to admit your deepest thoughts. I know because I still feel lonely sometimes, like I was just there as an extra child that mother was handed instead of another magic daughter, or a son." The words weren't said with any kind of venom.

Yet, they still did inflict pain. Elsa never wanted Anna to compare her existence to her own. "Oh, Anna-"

"I'm not saying this for you to feel guily! I-I don't want you to feel sad. It's not like I knew about your powers until the coronation either, but I can't always rid myself of that thought. I feel they cared for us equally until the accident I still don't fully remember. I don't understand why to keep me safe, they separated us entirely. I felt punished. I know you punished yourself." Her head drooped and her voice had grown thick, tears were surely on the way.

Elsa released Anna's hands and instead reached her arms out. What she was saying was certainly crushing even if it was in the past, and Anna knew she was incredibly loved. It was new information for Elsa to process and in that moment all she wanted to do was hold and cherish Anna. She wanted to give her what she was without for so long and spend all her time making up for it.

She was overwhelmed by her own love for the girl.

Anna move closer and as soon as Elsa could even start getting her arms around her, she pulled her toward her lap. She didn't need to put much effort into it. Anna easily settled on her legs and wrapped her arms around Elsa's shoulders as she sniffled, her crying started. "I'm sorry Elsa, I'm sorry to put this on you."

"No. Nono, sssh. I'm sorry, Anna. I - ah." She was going to point out how she started it all by hitting her with her ice, but that would only make Anna feel worse or again force her own feelings aside to comfort Elsa. "...I wish I could have fathomed how alone you were, wish I could have done something for you," she told her and that was true too. She squeezed her.

Anna's shoulders shook as she cried."You've done so much for me Elsa. No one has done that much just- just for me. Even when mother and father left us...they did so to find answers about you as if they didn't have another daughter here. And why did they even need answers? Mother came from a magic forest, how big a mystery-anyway. I told you when we found out that you aren't responsible for their choices, and that includes the relationship they had with me." Her body twitched with her sobs.

Elsa had to swallow and count backwards in her head to keep from crying right along with her. She had to be the strong one. Her role at that moment was to be there for Anna and give her the direct attention she deserved. She needed Anna to know she was heard. "I don't understand why they felt they had to find answers either," she told her honestly. Less and less made sense each day, which was depressing when she thought about the initial joy of seeing her mother's image in Ahtohallan.

"If they needed answers so badly, why did they wait so long!?" Anna continued and she nearly yelled those words. Elsa startled at the raw frustration ripping forth from her sweet sister. "Why? They waited until you were eighteen and then they decided they needed to do something for us. Why did they make us wait so long? Why did they keep you behind that door, and why did they just-just tolerate my existence?"

"They didn't to-"

"What even was I to mother and father?" Anna's whole body rocked with new sobs; Elsa imagined them burning her throat and knew how red, how pained Anna's eyes would be. "I was just there, and I couldn't even see you. They might say they wanted you to control your powers and wanted me to be safe but all I knew was feeling lonely! All I knew was I did something bad to you or in general and maybe I was being punished! You shut me out for some reason and they didn't stop you! You got the first lessons on this or that and I heard you would be queen and I...I..." Her words finally failed her and all Elsa could hear, all she could feel was wailing.

Wait. That wasn't all she felt.

There was a certain chill in the air, a very fine dusting of snow, and it wasn't from her. Ever since they had found their souls in each others' bodies sometimes there were traces of evidence that showed it wasn't all a wild dream.

Had it been Elsa wailing it would have been a snowstorm...

She couldn't think about that. She rubbed Anna's back and very gently swayed with her, turning her face into her beautiful red hair to kiss the side of her head. One of her thighs began to ache faintly as Anna was settled on part of her that had banged into the ground but she pushed it aside. The throb of a bruise was nothing when Anna's heart and mind were consumed with such anguish.

"I was just there! I needed so much, and on top of that, I had so, so much to give!" Another soul-wrenching sob tore through her. All Elsa could do was keep holding her. Her head hurt from her fall and spun with the words spilling from Anna. "I had so much love to give, Elsa, and the only thing I could give it to was the door."

Elsa bit her lip briefly. "I got it, you know. I was always right there with you." As soon as she spoke she regretted it a little. That didn't help Anna's current state, did it?

Perhaps she was wrong though as Anna moved against her and leaned back, her arms still around Elsa. Her face was tear stained, eyes puffy and red, her nose running. She almost looked like she'd been thrown into mourning. She slowly traced one finger from Elsa's back, up her neck and around to her jaw as she took careful, stuttering breaths. "I know now. I imagined you were then too because it hurt to think otherwise. But I know. And I'm so grateful to you Elsa, more than I can say..."

"...Why?" Elsa asked in confusion.

"Because I had that love to give and could only dream it was both received and accepted. Now I know it was without a shadow of a doubt," she said and her voice had dropped down low, a bit hoarse. "I wanted someone to cherish and adore and maybe somehow I knew that would always be you. Back then, I couldn't really give it to mother and father. They weren't very receptive. You? I didn't know, and not having assurance it was rejected helped me keep giving it." She tipped Elsa's face with her finger under her chin and gently pressed their lips together as she rested her fingers on Elsa's cheek. When she pulled back she looked a little more under control.

"Elsa...I know I worry too much, I follow you around and I keep watch. I do genuinely worry like anyone would for their loved one - but the thing is, I also do it simply because now I can. Now I have friends I care about and take care of, now I have the love of my life to do it for. Maybe I overdo it, but our lives haven't been allowed to settle down for any long period of time before we're disrupted again. When our world feels a little more stable around us, I can shed some of these ill feelings. Until then I just ask that-I hope-"

With a kiss to match Anna's initiated by Elsa that time, the words were cut off. "Of course I'll be here through it. You aren't going to work through this without me, you...you never abandoned me." Elsa sighed and began to stroke Anna's hair while the other girl still sniffed and tried to stop the last few tears. "Anna...thank you for opening up."

Anna blinked. "You're um...welcome?"

Elsa couldn't resist a little smile. "I have never really asked how you felt during those later years before mother and father passed. And you never exactly volunteered. I got so focused on my own thing that I never properly addressed any of it, and now, now I have an idea. Every little thing I learn about you is important and I hope you'll speak more about it."

"Oh..." Anna looked down. "It's...really hard. It really hurt."

Her pale fingers continued to stroke Anna's hair and Elsa kissed the top of her head. "I know," she whispered. "I know, my dear one."

Anna took an uneven breath as she still tried to gather herself. She was quiet for a second before leaning forward again to put her head on Elsa's shoulder. "I love you, Elsa," she said quietly.

"I love you too," Elsa said as she again hugged her, keeping her warm body close.

They stayed like that for a while, Anna trying to come back down from her alarming emotional burst and Elsa just trying to calm her. The light snow had stopped but there was still cold air. If Anna noticed, she hadn't said anything, yet at the same time Elsa's soul had curled into her other halfs to steady and assure her. Anna surrounded her and gradually she became less intense, less anxious. When Elsa felt that Anna was close to being balanced again, she began to speak.

"Anna, would you like to wash your face?" she asked softly.

"Oh." Anna nodded against her and then pulled back. "Yes...."

"Actually, I'll do it for you. Do you feel tired?" Elsa asked, reaching one hand to the side for the bowl and pulling it a little closer. The water was still a little warm and she could feel it splashing to the side of the bowl just a bit. She picked up the cloth and squeezed other water out.

"Exhausted, but it's the middle of the day," Anna admitted. "My head really hurts."

"Don't you worry about the time of day. You've exhausted yourself, and I...I went for a bit of a roll," she joked and was rewarded with the tiniest little laugh from Anna. She set the cloth on the edge of the bowl and poured some fresh water on it alittle awkwardly, one arm still around Anna. "We can have a little nap, and still keep our important meetings this evening," she added.

"Can we...?" Anna immediately followed those two words up with a yawn, turning her head away for the duration. In was deep and obviously full of fatigue. She turned back to Elsa with a look of surrender. "Okay. I guess maybe we better rest, huh."

"Mmmhmm." Elsa brought the cloth to Anna's eyes, gently wiping at the corners. She finished one side and placed a kiss on the corner of that eye before doing the other one. "If anyone else doesn't like it...tough."

"I think news that you took a tumble has probably already made its way around the staff. I'm sure they think you're recovering with help from me, or something," Anna suggested with an amused look on her tired red face.

Elsa had to laugh at that. "I'm sure they do. That's just fine by me," she replied as she carefully pulled the cloth down Anna's cute cheeks.

With a clean face and a cuddly nap,she was sure the light would be back in Anna's eyes.

#Frozen #Elsanna #fanfic #trauma #elsa #anna

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myngxy-sue · 4 years

Text

Heartbreak Hurts Like Hell

I was originally going to write about Sue’s envy finally giving her the motivation to confess to Lucifer but I got so caught up with what happened beforehand that I dedicated almost three days of my life writing this. Pairings: Mammon X Yuki, Lucifer X Sue maybe Word count: 3772 words Genre: Angst, hurt, comfort Warnings: Probably OOC and my character gets slightly injured. There’s also some cursing in it. The ending is probably rushed too.

She wrote him a love note once. It wasn’t anything special. She couldn’t think of a better way to express her love for him. Perhaps it was a bit too long. Sue had a horrible habit of getting wordy when it came to her writing. But it was from the heart and she dedicated all her time and effort into writing it. She stuffed the note into her purse, assuring herself that she’d give it to Mammon when she got the chance.

Well, chances came and went, the note was forgotten about and it wasn’t until Yuki confessed to Mammon that she remembered. But it was too late. Mammon and Yuki were together.

It was a pretty generic confession, like one straight out of an anime. Their meeting place was under a cherry blossom tree of sorts. Sue happened to be there as well because she had a still life assignment for art class. Yuki had been there for quite a while, leaning on the tree, walking around it a few times and sitting right next to it, waiting. Sue had half a mind to ask what she was waiting for but she decided against it. Yuki didn’t seem to be aware that she was there too.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps, the sound of someone’s feet cutting through the grass as they ran. Sue peeped to see who it was and her heart stopped. Mammon stumbled before Yuki, scratching his head and wearing a sheepish grin on his face.Yuki helped him up.

Sue got a cold, clenching feeling inside her, somewhere between her chest and her gut. Something told her that she knew what was about to go down. She absentmindedly placed a hand on her purse, watching everything unfold.

Yuki looks down at her feet, a strong blush fading on her cheeks. She fumbled with a skirt before taking a letter out of her pocket, a pink letter bound with a red heart sticker. Sue wanted to turn away. Lord knows she desperately wanted to turn away. But she couldn’t. It was like watching a car accident take place.

Mammon’s face went blank as he eyed the letter. He takes it and promptly shoves it into an inner pocket with a smile, probably planning to show it off. They exchanged some words with each other, Yuki looking ecstatic and Mammon blushing. Then he took her in his arms and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Finally, Sue had enough.

She gathered all her things, stood up almost instantly and bolted to the school building. The clenching feeling began paining her. She tried to prevent the hot tears from accumulating but to no avail. Sue didn’t want anyone to see how hurt she was. They’d start pestering her with questions she didn’t want to answer. She slipped into class and hastily as possible and went over to her seat.

Putting all her supplies inside her desk, she rests her head down on the surface, using her arms both as support and as cover. Everyone assumed she was sleeping when she was really crying. This was all thanks to her habit of taking quick naps during school hours, particularly during breaks. She made sure to stay as still as possible and regulate her breathing.

She couldn’t believe it at first. Even if she knew all the signs, she refused to accept it at first. Yuki was a very outgoing girl despite what she tried to affirm. It was only a matter of time before she decided to make her confession. Her anxiety was never as bad as Sue’s, perhaps because she didn’t have a voice in her head constantly demeaning her. Mammon favored Yuki since she was the first between the both of them to make a pact with him.

But she didn’t get why he was only drawn to Yuki. Sue made a pact with him too and through less dubious means. She should be the one he clinged to. Leviathan forced Yuki to make a pact with Mammon for his own benefit. It didn’t make any sense.

Yuki wasn’t all that great. She was much too nosy and reckless for her own good, constantly getting herself into trouble. Sue had to save her countless times, especially from Lucifer. Yuki was childish. She cried about every little thing, she was a bit selfish, lazy, indecisive, irresponsible and maybe even stupid. Yuki was nothing but a burden.

At the same time though, Yuki was so sweet as well. Even if she was nosy, it was only because she wanted to do what she believed was right. No matter how cruel the brothers were to her, Yuki was always kind to them and believed they had some goodness to them. She was the only person who was never mean to Mammon.

Of course Mammon loved Yuki. Even with all her shortcomings, she was still better than Sue in many ways. Sue couldn’t really think about anything meaningful she had to offer. That was probably why everyone except Lucifer prefered Yuki. She was the fun, loving one. Sue was the boring mom friend.

Sue felt guilty for trying to rationalize why her friend was a bad choice. She should be happy for Yuki. She remembered all those late nights when she listened to Yuki swooning about her dream boy. Yuki saw that in Mammon so she should be glad. But no matter how hard she tried, Sue was never fully content for her friend. Her feelings for Mammon were still so strong.

Ugh, why does stuff like love and feelings have to be so difficult?

“Oi, oi! Sue-chan! Wake up!” A high-pitched voice bubbled as the owner shook Sue. “You’re not supposed to be sleeping during the day!”

Sue let out an exasperated sigh. She knew it was Yuki, not that it was hard to tell who she was to begin with. Yuki stood out for better or for worse. Reluctantly, Sue sat up, wiping her eyes in a groggy way so her friend wouldn’t suspect a thing.

“But it’s break time…” Sue grumbled.

“But Lucifer-san got mad at you for sleeping in school!” Yuki pouted, putting her hands on her hips.

“Weren’t you listening?” Sue began cleaning her glasses. They got smudged against her skin. “He was mad because I was sleeping during class. Otherwise, Lucifer has no problem with me sleeping in school.”

“Oh really?”

“Really.”

Yuki took a closer look at Sue, narrowing her eyes. Sue put back on her glasses with a straight face. Deep down, her guilt was reaching its zenith. Someone so pleasant didn’t deserve her wrath, even if it was all internal.

“Why did you wake me up anyways?” Sue huffed, acting like she didn’t see the confession.

Yuki pulled away quickly, instantly becoming bright eyed. “Oh Sue-chan, it was like a dream come true! I confessed to Mam-kun under the sakura tree and he accepted my feelings!”

And grass is green and the sky is blue! I bet you want to tell me that people die when they are killed too!

That was a stupid thought to have. Sue tapped herself on the head lightly. Yuki didn’t know she saw a good chunk of the confession. Sue knew that very well. This heartbreak was making her act weird.

“That is the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Sue smiled weakly.

“But it was so magical!” Yuki swooned, spinning herself around like some sort of princess. “If you had a boyfriend, you’d understand!”

Sue felt like she got stabbed in the heart. She shouldn’t be getting so hurt over Yuki’s words but they hit a nerve. The bitter part of her was telling her that Yuki knew what was going on and she was intentionally trying to hurt her. But Sue’s rational side reminded her that even if Yuki knew, she wouldn’t be so spiteful about it. She just wanted to scream so badly.

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend, Sue-chan?” Yuki said suddenly.

Sue was taken aback. “Why would you ask something like that?”

Yuki shrugged playfully. “I just think you should’ve had a boyfriend by now. After all, you’re eighteen.”

“I don’t know…” Sue groaned. “I don’t know anyone out there who likes me…”

“There has to be someone out there!” Yuki asserted. “There’s always someone for everyone. It’s like the saying from your country: Every…. Umm.... Every… Well… It has something to do with bread.”

“Every bread have a cheese?”

Yuki snapped her fingers. “That’s it!”

Sue chuckled softly, secretly wishing that the ground would consume her already.

“Don’t worry, Sue-chan! I will find the right man for you!” Yuki declared.

Sue gawped at Yuki before smiling and snickering, “Good luck with that.”

Yuki affirmed that she could do it before stomping off ambitiously. Sue sighed once more before putting her head down again. Now she had to deal with getting over Mammon and Yuki’s quest to match her with someone. Two things too many. And once the bell rang, Sue was going to have math with the worst teacher ever. Sue placed her hand on her purse again.

“Well, so much for that…” Sue thought to herself.

It went on like that until school finally finished for the day. To Sue, the day felt longer than usual. She was so desperate that she didn’t even wait for the bell. But she managed to control herself. The last thing she needed to do was piss off Lucifer.

During the walk home, Sue abruptly had an idea. She had read Little Women very recently. There were many parts of it that stuck to her. But since she wanted to dispose of her love note, the moment she thought about very much had something to do with destroying paper. She remembered when Amy burned Jo’s writing.

Of course, fire was the best way to get rid of almost anything. Paper wasn’t safe. The flames would reduce everything to ashes. All of her regrets, unrequited feelings and all would become nothing. If she played her cards wisely, it’d be like the note never existed to begin with.

She knew at once that burning the note would be the first thing she did once she returned to the House of Lamentation.

As she walked home, Sue thought about how glad she was that never bothered to give Mammon the note. She was proud that she was too shy for her own good. She had the feeling that even if she did beat Yuki to the confessing, Mammon would probably reject her. He needed someone who loved him wholly, someone who didn’t make him feel like trash. That someone, as hard as it was for Sue to admit, was Yuki.

If she saw Yuki and Mammon together, she’d turn a blind eye. She’d have to stop looking at Mammon with rose-colored lenses. He was a demon and whatever trouble he got into affected everyone to boot. Even Sue was annoyed at how Mammon would constantly get into the same problem over and over again. That and his arrogance was quite annoying.

Damn it…

Even with all that in mind, Sue’s love for Mammon was still great. She could only hope that this wouldn’t last for so long.

The walk home went without a hitch if one ignored the fact she fell into an open drain. Her ankle hurt like a bitch. In the heat of the moment, she almost used her pact to summon Mammon. Seeing him for the rest of the day was the last thing she wanted. She couldn’t summon anyone else. Making a pact with Mammon alone was a dumb idea. Well, she supposed that her ankle wasn’t that badly hurt.

Shit…

Sue rubbed her ankle once she managed to climb out. Lucifer would notice. She could pretend to her heart’s content, but he had a way of knowing. Her heart stopped. He had a way of knowing. Sue began to worry about how much he knew about her.

He probably knew about the note already. They were in the same room when she wrote it. Lucifer may have taken some cursory glances while he was working. He might’ve known that she was pretending to sleep when she was really crying. Once Lucifer even knew she had a cold before she even came to the realization. But maybe she was just over thinking. Sure, Lucifer knew many things but not everything. And what business did he have with unrequited love anyways? In all likelihood, he wouldn’t care. Lucifer had six oversized babies to look after, two humans to protect as well as copious amounts of work from Diavolo. Even if he knew, he didn’t have the time and energy to care.

Sue limped the rest of the way home, grateful that she didn’t bump into anyone she knew. She stopped at the front door. Maybe she could hide the ankle problem. It wasn’t like she didn’t try to walk normally when she hurt her foot before.

She entered.

The entrance hall was empty, much to her delight, and the fireplace was right in front of her. Sue stumbled into the living room. She didn’t even bother to check if anyone was in there.

“You’re late,” A voice said sternly.

“You didn’t even have any of my brothers accompany you,” Lucifer added as he stood up. He walked over to Sue. “Care to explain yourself?”

“Even you can be troublesome…” Lucifer mumbled under his breath. He stared at her bad leg, almost cradling it in his hands. Sue didn’t know why but it was oddly comforting. It wouldn’t awaken anything within her, right?

“I fell into a drain,” Sue admitted.

Lucifer remarked, “You know you should watch your step.”

“I guess…”

“I am going to grab a few things for your ankle. I want you to stay in this exact spot. Don’t even think about getting up.”

She eyed her feet as she listened to Lucifer walking off. The sight of the swollen ankle made her cringe. Regardless, she took off her shoe and her sock to get a better look at it. It was a lot worse than she was expecting. The skin was mostly reddish with some bits of purple here and there. Sue grumbled. If she hadn’t been so caught up on the note, she would’ve watched her step.

Oh yeah, the note…

Sue pulled it out of her purse. It was folded pretty delicately. If only she could fold other things just as nicely, she thought. She opened it. Only one word in and she already couldn’t take it. She had put so much effort into it. That was one of the reasons she hated it so much. But mainly, it reminded her of the feelings she was now ashamed of. Feelings she wished that she could just get rid of on a whim. Why couldn’t it just be simple like that?

Lucifer may have told her to stay still, but she had to do what she was about to do. Sue got up, the pain from her ankle shooting up to the rest of her body. Jesus Christ, she was in pain! But she ignored it. Crumbling the note in her hands, Sue staggered over to the fireplace. The heat was quite welcoming.

She looked at the crumpled piece of paper before quite casually tossing it into the fire. Falling down to her knees, Sue watched as it was slowly consumed by the flames. A strange sense of melancholy took over. At the same time, she was strangely ecstatic. She couldn’t look away even after the note turned into ashes.

“You cannot be serious!” Lucifer exclaimed.

Sue chuckled softly as the demon paced over to her. He hoisted her up and carried her back to the chair, plopping her down on it. Lucifer gawped at her, holding her face up by the chin so she wouldn’t look away.

“I thought I’d just be able to ignore this but you've been acting strange since break,” Lucifer said. “What’s the meaning of all this?”

“Sometimes you just want to watch your regrets burn in an open fire,” Sue answered plainly. She smiled weakly but Lucifer was as stern looking as ever.

Lucifer raised a brow. “Is that all?”

“It was just a stupid story I wrote. I didn’t like it so I burned it. There’s nothing to worry about,” Sue claimed after hesitating for a moment.

The silence between them was damning. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed before he huffed.

“Sue, I believe we both know that’s a lie. I saw what you wrote and I know exactly who it's for. But if you insist on lying then please be my guest.” Sue bit her lip. She knew what she should tell him but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Just thinking about it brought back the pain tenfold. The tears came flooding out and her lips streamed. Lucifer was stunned.

“I feel horrible!” Sue whimpered. “Mammon likes Yuki and I don’t want to be mad at her. But I still love Mammon!”

Lucifer’s eyebrows went up ever so high in disbelief. “You have feelings for Mammon of all demons?”

“I can’t help it. I think he’s great.”

“No, he is not,” Lucifer said, shaking his head.

Sue pouted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it!”

“I really don't.”

Sue furrowed her brows, giving Lucifer the best icy stare she could manage. But she gave up and let out a sigh in defeat, pulling away from him.

“Whatever,” Sue grumbled. “That doesn’t matter right now. It’s just that… I think I might be jealous of Yuki.”

“There, there…” Lucifer comforted, patting Sue on the head. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.”

“But I’m jealous of my friend.”

“You shouldn’t be jealous of Yuki. You must remember that she’s the inferior one.”

Sue paused as she gawked at Lucifer. How could she say such a thing? But once she really thought about what he said, she giggled lightly. It was pretty clear that Lucifer wasn’t being serious. He smirked a bit.

“Thank you. I’ll take it to heart,” Sue assured him.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “I hope you are not trying to flatter me. I was worried that this may affect your academic performance.”

“Is that all?” Sue had a blank expression.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Lucifer scoffed. “Now, let’s see about that injury of yours.”

Sue watched as Lucifer tended to her ankle. The brief moment of joy from a few moments before had faded.

“I just wish I could get over it sooner,” Sue confessed.

Lucifer nodded. “I suppose such feelings are quite bothersome. But they are not easy to overcome so don’t beat yourself down if you believe it’s taking too long.”

“I wish it were that simple but…”

Lucifer looked up at the human, raising a brow.

Sue continued, “I don’t know. I just feel really bad about being jealous of Yuki.”

“Has your jealousy led to you hurting Yuki?” Lucifer inquired.

Sue shook her head.

“Have you ever thought about hurting her?”

She shook her head again.

“Then you have nothing to worry about,” Lucifer assured her. “You have a lot of self-control, something my brothers unfortunately lack.”

Sue tilted her head. “But what about you?”

Lucifer got serious real fast. “And what do you mean by that?”

Sue paused, looking at him with a blank expression again. She considered whether or not she should tell him. But before she could decide for herself, Lucifer spoke up.

“No, I don’t even want to hear it. I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself, Sue.”

“Fine.”

She looked down at her patched up ankle, her internal pain easing up a little. Then her gaze turned to the fireplace. She wished that she could burn her feelings and move on. But all she could do was bottle them up and let it sit there until she forgot. Lucifer said she was doing a fine job, keeping it all in. That probably wasn’t the best advice. But she took it regardless.

“You should stay away from school until your ankle heals. I don’t want you hurting yourself anymore,” Lucifer advised. “I will make sure that you—”

Sue threw herself onto Lucifer all of a sudden, pulling him into an embrace. She could feel a new stream of hot tears running down her face. Lucifer eyes widened in surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer bleated.

“Thank you…” Sue breathed. She hurt her ankle again.

Lucifer recovered from the shock a bit before sighing. “If you wish to thank me, just say it. This is simply unnecessary.”

Sue looked up at him and was amazed to see the demon blushing. He tried to glare at her, but it was hard to be afraid when he looked so cute. She didn’t think that she’d get him flushed so easily. Many things were running through her mind. Something told her that perhaps getting over Mammon wouldn’t be so daunting.

“You are such a strange human,” Lucifer remarked.

She shrugged. Perhaps she was. Sue began to wonder about what would happen next.

“Will you finally sit down? You’re not making this any easier.”

Well, chances came and went, the note was forgotten about and it wasn’t until Yuki confessed to Mammon that she remembered. But it was too late. Mammon and Yuki were together.

Ugh, why does stuff like love and feelings have to be so difficult?

“Oi, oi! Sue-chan! Wake up!” A high-pitched voice bubbled as the owner shook Sue. “You’re not supposed to be sleeping during the day!”

“But it’s break time…” Sue grumbled. “But Lucifer-san got mad at you for sleeping in school!” Yuki pouted, putting her hands on her hips.

“Why did you wake me up anyways?” Sue huffed, acting like she didn’t see the confession.

Yuki pulled away quickly, instantly becoming bright eyed. “Oh Sue-chan, it was like a dream come true! I confessed to Mam-kun under the sakura tree and he accepted my feelings!”

And grass is green and the sky is blue! I bet you want to tell me that people die when they are killed too!

“That is the sappiest thing I’ve ever heard,” Sue smiled weakly.

“But it was so magical!” Yuki swooned, spinning herself around like some sort of princess. “If you had a boyfriend, you’d understand!”

“Why don’t you have a boyfriend, Sue-chan?” Yuki said suddenly. Sue was taken aback. “Why would you ask something like that?” Yuki shrugged playfully. “I just think you should’ve had a boyfriend by now. After all, you’re eighteen.”

Sue couldn’t be mad at Yuki for having that mindset. She grew up in Japan and Sue heard that there was a dating crisis there. If Yuki hadn’t been dragged to Devildom, there’d be no doubt that her parents would pressure her into finding a man to settle down with. “I don’t know…” Sue groaned. “I don’t know anyone out there who likes me…” “There has to be someone out there!” Yuki asserted. “There’s always someone for everyone. It’s like the saying from your country: Every…. Umm.... Every… Well… It has something to do with bread.”

“Every bread have a cheese?” Yuki snapped her fingers. “That’s it!” Sue chuckled softly, secretly wishing that the ground would consume her already.

“Don’t worry, Sue-chan! I will find the right man for you!” Yuki declared.

Sue gawped at Yuki before smiling and snickering, “Good luck with that.”

She knew at that moment that she wanted to dispose of the note. It had no use anymore and if anyone found it, she’d die of embarrassment. Throwing it in the bin was out of the question. It was so easy for someone to find it that way. Not to mention, there were some demons gutsy enough to rummage through garbage. Sue kept thinking of other ways. Even when the bell rang and classes resumed, Sue was coming up with a myriad of ideas to get rid of her note. It went on like that until school finally finished for the day. To Sue, the day felt longer than usual. She was so desperate that she didn’t even wait for the bell. But she managed to control herself. The last thing she needed to do was piss off Lucifer.

She knew at once that burning the note would be the first thing she did once she returned to the House of Lamentation.

Even with all that in mind, Sue’s love for Mammon was still great. She could only hope that this wouldn’t last for so long.

Shit… Sue rubbed her ankle once she managed to climb out. Lucifer would notice. She could pretend to her heart’s content, but he had a way of knowing. Her heart stopped. He had a way of knowing. Sue began to worry about how much he knew about her.

But maybe she was just over thinking. Sure, Lucifer knew many things but not everything. And what business did he have with unrequited love anyways? In all likelihood, he wouldn’t care. Lucifer had six oversized babies to look after, two humans to protect as well as copious amounts of work from Diavolo. Even if he knew, he didn’t have the time and energy to care.

The entrance hall was empty, much to her delight, and the fireplace was right in front of her. Sue stumbled into the living room. She didn’t even bother to check if anyone was in there.

“You’re late,” A voice said sternly.

Sue froze, jolting a bit when she accidentally applied weight to her bad leg. She turned to the source and she could feel herself trembling. Lucifer was not too far from the fireplace, lounging on a chair with a book in hand. His eyes were locked on her, that world famous scowl on his face. “You didn’t even have any of my brothers accompany you,” Lucifer added as he stood up. He walked over to Sue. “Care to explain yourself?”

She looked up at the demon, her heart threatening to beat out of her chest. Her mouth opened slightly but not a sound came out. Lucifer let out a frustrated sigh as his face softened. He picked her up suddenly and set her down on the nearest chair. “Even you can be troublesome…” Lucifer mumbled under his breath. He stared at her bad leg, almost cradling it in his hands. Sue didn’t know why but it was oddly comforting. It wouldn’t awaken anything within her, right? “I fell into a drain,” Sue admitted. Lucifer remarked, “You know you should watch your step.” “I guess…”

“I am going to grab a few things for your ankle. I want you to stay in this exact spot. Don’t even think about getting up.”

Oh yeah, the note… Sue pulled it out of her purse. It was folded pretty delicately. If only she could fold other things just as nicely, she thought. She opened it. Only one word in and she already couldn’t take it. She had put so much effort into it. That was one of the reasons she hated it so much. But mainly, it reminded her of the feelings she was now ashamed of. Feelings she wished that she could just get rid of on a whim. Why couldn’t it just be simple like that?

“I thought I’d just be able to ignore this but you've been acting strange since break,” Lucifer said. “What’s the meaning of all this?”

“Sometimes you just want to watch your regrets burn in an open fire,” Sue answered plainly. She smiled weakly but Lucifer was as stern looking as ever.

Lucifer raised a brow. “Is that all?” “It was just a stupid story I wrote. I didn’t like it so I burned it. There’s nothing to worry about,” Sue claimed after hesitating for a moment.

The silence between them was damning. Lucifer’s eyes narrowed before he huffed. “Sue, I believe we both know that’s a lie. I saw what you wrote and I know exactly who it's for. But if you insist on lying then please be my guest.”

Sue bit her lip. She knew what she should tell him but she wasn’t sure if she wanted to. Just thinking about it brought back the pain tenfold. The tears came flooding out and her lips streamed. Lucifer was stunned.

“I feel horrible!” Sue whimpered. “Mammon likes Yuki and I don’t want to be mad at her. But I still love Mammon!” Lucifer’s eyebrows went up ever so high in disbelief. “You have feelings for Mammon of all demons?”

“I can’t help it. I think he’s great.” “No, he is not,” Lucifer said, shaking his head. Sue pouted. “Don’t act like you don’t get it!” “I really don't.”

Sue furrowed her brows, giving Lucifer the best icy stare she could manage. But she gave up and let out a sigh in defeat, pulling away from him.

“Whatever,” Sue grumbled. “That doesn’t matter right now. It’s just that… I think I might be jealous of Yuki.”

“There, there…” Lucifer comforted, patting Sue on the head. “You shouldn’t be so hard on yourself.” “But I’m jealous of my friend.”

“You shouldn’t be jealous of Yuki. You must remember that she’s the inferior one.” Sue paused as she gawked at Lucifer. How could she say such a thing? But once she really thought about what he said, she giggled lightly. It was pretty clear that Lucifer wasn’t being serious. He smirked a bit.

“Thank you. I’ll take it to heart,” Sue assured him. Lucifer narrowed his eyes. “I hope you are not trying to flatter me. I was worried that this may affect your academic performance.” “Is that all?” Sue had a blank expression. “Don’t get ahead of yourself,” Lucifer scoffed. “Now, let’s see about that injury of yours.”

Sue watched as Lucifer tended to her ankle. The brief moment of joy from a few moments before had faded. “I just wish I could get over it sooner,” Sue confessed. Lucifer nodded. “I suppose such feelings are quite bothersome. But they are not easy to overcome so don’t beat yourself down if you believe it’s taking too long.” “I wish it were that simple but…” Lucifer looked up at the human, raising a brow. Sue continued, “I don’t know. I just feel really bad about being jealous of Yuki.”

“Has your jealousy led to you hurting Yuki?” Lucifer inquired.

Sue shook her head. “Have you ever thought about hurting her?” She shook her head again. “Then you have nothing to worry about,” Lucifer assured her. “You have a lot of self-control, something my brothers unfortunately lack.” Sue tilted her head. “But what about you?” Lucifer got serious real fast. “And what do you mean by that?” Sue paused, looking at him with a blank expression again. She considered whether or not she should tell him. But before she could decide for herself, Lucifer spoke up.

“No, I don’t even want to hear it. I suggest you keep your thoughts to yourself, Sue.”

“Fine.”

“You should stay away from school until your ankle heals. I don’t want you hurting yourself anymore,” Lucifer advised. “I will make sure that you—”

Sue threw herself onto Lucifer all of a sudden, pulling him into an embrace. She could feel a new stream of hot tears running down her face. Lucifer eyes widened in surprise.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Lucifer bleated. “Thank you…” Sue breathed. She hurt her ankle again. Lucifer recovered from the shock a bit before sighing. “If you wish to thank me, just say it. This is simply unnecessary.” Sue looked up at him and was amazed to see the demon blushing. He tried to glare at her, but it was hard to be afraid when he looked so cute. She didn’t think that she’d get him flushed so easily. Many things were running through her mind. Something told her that perhaps getting over Mammon wouldn’t be so daunting. “You are such a strange human,” Lucifer remarked. She shrugged. Perhaps she was. Sue began to wonder about what would happen next. “Will you finally sit down? You’re not making this any easier.”

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padfootagain · 6 years

Text

Back To Life

Writing for my 3k event! Thank you for sending this request anon, I hope you like it :)

The following quote was asked for Sirius, and it was asked to be super angsty but with a fluffy ending :

72. "I love her."

"Does she love you?"

" I don't know now. Yesterday, you weren't alive."

"Well, I apologize for not being dead in a ditch."

"I don't think I can accept your apology."

"Is that a joke?"

"Yes, yes, sort of. I'm not... I've never been very good at jokes."

From Salmon Fishing In The Yemen (a pure jewel, you should all watch it).

Hope you all like it :)

Gif not mine

Word Count : 3574

Sirius loved you.

It was a truth he had known for years, way before he had a chance to be part of your life the way he did now.

By some miracle you had both survived this war that had torn your whole world apart.

You had not walked out of it undamaged though. Sirius had owned a large scar across his back. You had lost your boyfriend…

You were shattered when Vincent died. It took around a year for you to get back to your feet. Lily, James and Remus helped a lot, but your rock through this storm had been Sirius.

He had picked you up and had brought back the human in you. And after your mourning had fainted, he had become your whole life.

From time to time, you felt guilty. You felt guilty for being alive when Vincent was gone. You felt guilty to have a chance to be happy when he never did. And you felt guilty because… the truth was… you had never been as happy as you were now with Sirius. You should have been. You should have felt better with Vincent and missed him with every part of you and regretted this time you had with him.

But that wasn't fully the truth.

You missed Vincent. You were still grieving and you would always be. You wished he was still here. But as time flew by and the pain subsided, and you and Sirius grew closer and closer, you started to doubt that Vincent and you would have been able, if you had been given the chance, to stay together forever. As you looked at Sirius standing there, shirtless and wearing his pyjama pants, waving his wand around the kitchen to prepare your breakfast, his hair a mess, you felt so lucky to have him in your life, you found it hard to imagine yourself without him. Actually, you found it impossible.

He was humming a rock tune you had heard the day before on the muggle radio, pouring hot water in his cup of tea. You walked behind him and wrapped your arms around his torso, making him chuckle.

"Morning, handsome," you grinned, dropping a kiss on his shoulder.

"Morning, gorgeous," he turned around to wrap his arms around you.

Sirius dropped a sweet kiss on your nose, before guiding the kettle through the kitchen again. You kept on holding him against you for a little longer, and he tightened his embrace.

"Are you alright, love?"

"Yeah I just… wonder… what makes it that we get to have all this and some people… don’t? Cause I don’t feel like I deserve it more than them."

Sirius heaved a sigh, resting his cheek against the top of your head. He knew perfectly what you were talking about. He knew it was about Vincent and this wound in your heart that would never fully close. He accepted it though, that you would never love him like you had loved Vincent. He had disappeared from your life too tragically and too quickly, Sirius knew he would be irreplaceable. Somehow, Vincent would always own a part of your heart.

And about this, Sirius was not mistaken. Where he was wrong though, was that he thought he would never own more than a tiny piece of your love, when Vincent would always be the one. He was at peace with this fact though. He knew that you were the one for him, and he was lucky to have you by his side now. He did not ask for more love than what you would feel like offering him.

Outside the sun was shining brightly upon London. The city was lazily waking up on this Sunday morning, the summer air already warm. There was a taste of holidays in the air, of long hours spent in bed, walks under the sun, sweet breezes on the Thames and cocktails drank with the dying sun. You and Sirius were both enjoying the beginning of your holidays together as well.

"What should we do today?" He asked softly, ignoring your previous question.

"Cuddles. And cuddles. And then…"

"More than cuddles?" he proposed in a huskier tone.

"I was gonna propose even more cuddles but that sounds quite good too," you giggled.

"Actually… we could go back to bed right now if you want to cuddle and…"

You laughed as he left his sentence suspended in mid-air in a seductive way.

You were about to kiss him when you were interrupted by a knock on your front door. So instead of kissing Sirius, you tore yourself away from his arms and strode through the flat to open the door, your boyfriend making you laugh as he groaned in protest.

"Leave it! It's probably a mistake anyway!" he called through the apartment, but you ignored him.

You walked through the hall with a happy smile on your face…

… but it was replaced by shock when you opened the door.

You went through a thousand thoughts and a million different emotions. In all this whirlwind, your brain had managed to get both crazy and frozen simultaneously. For a moment, you guessed that you were seeing a ghost, but the person before you seemed tangible. And in just a few seconds you had pushed the thought of a ghost away. There was no doubt that it was a real, breathing, living man before you, only… only it was impossible.

Vincent had died years before, in the war, you had seen him falling from that bridge in the Thames, there was no way he could be alive… but then how could he be standing before you?

You felt your head spinning with too much emotions and too much thoughts, shock punching you in the stomach.

The man before you – Vincent although it couldn't be Vincent – gave you a shy smile, and when he spoke you recognized this voice you thought you would never hear again.

"Hello, Y/N."

Your head span faster and faster, until you could feel the ground disappear under your feet, and all went dark.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

Sirius was going mad.

He was torn into pieces by so many emotions, and for most of them, he felt guilty.

Anger, jealousy, disappointment…

He was ashamed of admitting it, but he would have preferred Vincent to have died that day during the war… he had seen Vincent falling in the Thames with his own eyes… how could he have survived. And where had he been for so long?

Sirius blew the smoke of his cigarette, pushing it out of his lungs and creating a little cloud of smoke that went drifting towards the sky with the wind. It was late in the afternoon already. After you had fainted, it had taken you a while to get back to your senses. Once you were calmer, Vincent had started to tell you his tale. That he had been badly wounded and had needed months to recover. That he had been looking for you, but by the time he had find you again, you were already with Sirius. He had hesitated for months before finally deciding that he had to see you again.

Sirius was not fully convinced by the whole story, but that wasn't what bothered him the most. What bothered him the most was that Vincent was clearly here to get you back.

All Sirius's insecurities were slammed back right in his face. Deep down, ever since the beginning of your relationship, the thought that he would never have been with you if Vincent had not died had haunted him. He had always feared that you were with him as a second choice. He had come at peace with the idea that you would never love him as much as he loved you.

But now that Vincent was back in the equation, Sirius knew that it meant the end.

Vincent was the one for you, he had no doubt of that. If he asked you to choose, you would be back with your first love.

Sirius was not angry at you for making this choice though. He understood. If you had been the one coming back to him, he would have dropped everything to be back with you. It was only normal that you would give up on him to find back this life Vincent and you had been building together.

But Sirius couldn’t help his rage towards Vincent. And he wasn't proud for wishing that he had remained dead, his blood boiled in his veins at the thought that he was about to destroy Sirius's whole world. He took it personally, as if Vincent had faked his death on purpose and all for the mere purpose to give Sirius a taste of what he would never truly have, only to tear it away from him again. The scenario was ridiculous, and yet Sirius couldn't push it away. The thought came back and back and back, floating in circles in his mind, always here torturing him.

He heaved a sigh, running a hand through his messy hair. It was late already, but he hadn't taken a shower. He had merely put on a T-shirt since Vincent had arrived. He realized then that nor he nor you had eaten anything at all. He had never been able to finish these pancakes.

He sat down on the stairs before your home, watching the street as Wizards and Witches passed by without caring for a second about him and his dishevelled looks. You had asked to speak with Vincent alone, it had been almost two hours ago… The thought that the two of you could be snogging right now made his stomach sick.

Tears rose to his eyes, drowning the grey shades as he thought that the previous night was most certainly the last the two of you would spend together. You had fallen asleep together reading a book about Quidditch. He had woken up in the morning to find the two of you in a tangled mess of limbs. He had barely stayed five minutes with you in the bed then, watching you sleeping. How he regretted now not to have stayed to look at you longer…

All these plans that would never happen, all this future you wanted to build together that had crumbled… His whole life was gone…

What would he do without you?

He chased his tears away with the back of his hands, brushing them out of his eyes. And he wondered if he could be brave enough to still be your friend after all that you had shared. He also wondered if he could be brave enough to live without you.

The door behind him suddenly opened on Vincent, and he walked down the tiny stairs Sirius sat on, before turning towards him again.

"She asked to have a minute alone," he informed Sirius.

Your current boyfriend nodded.

"I'm sorry I have to make you go through all that," Vincent apologized, and Sirius wanted to punch him right on the face for his words.

"I understand," Sirius mumbled back.

"I don't want anything bad to happen to you Sirius, you know I don't. I've always considered you a friend. But Y/N… Y/N is the one for me. She's always been. I couldn’t just give up on her. Besides…"

He interrupted himself, but Sirius had guessed the words he had wanted to speak, and he was the one to utter them.

"You think that she might still want to be with you."

A heavy silence settled between the two men, mingling with the thick and hot summer air.

"I know you will try to convince her to stay…" Vincent began to speak again, but Sirius cut him off.

"You're wrong. Y/N is a big girl. She knows what she wants. She doesn't need me to beg her to keep me. She needs me to accept it if she prefers to be back with you."

"Would you really let her go?"

"If she asks me so, yes."

"Really? But why…?"

"I love her," Sirius answered as if it was the most obvious truth in the whole world.

"Does she love you?"

Vincent's voice was hesitant as he asked the question. Sirius shrugged.

" I don't know now. Yesterday, you weren't alive."

"Well, I apologize for not being dead in a ditch."

"I don't think I can accept your apology."

"Is that a joke?"

"Yes, yes, sort of. I'm not... I've never been very good at jokes."

"Sirius Black? Not good at jokes? What happened to you?"

A weak smile formed on Sirius's lips.

"Y/N happened."

Sirius let out a chuckle.

"I'm still hilarious, when I'm not about to have my life turned upside down…" he added.

"I'm sorry."

"No, you're not, Vincent. You want her to choose you and leave me behind. And I want her to choose me and leave you behind. So, let's cut the pretend. There's no need for that. We were friends, she loved you… and if I'm to be completely honest, I think she still does. So, let's not pretend like you're sorry for coming here and trying to get her back, and let's not pretend either that I'm happy to see you."

Vincent slowly nodded. He was about to speak again when the front door opened. You gave the two men a sad smile.

"Sorry for making you wait," you apologized.

Sirius gave you a reassuring smile. He was surprised as you took his hand, and gave him a grateful smile. You turned to Vincent, and Sirius was certain that it meant the end. You were giving one last moment of affection before running into Vincent's arms. That was it… he was losing you for good…

Instead of letting go of Sirius's hand, you tightened your hold a little. He thought it was meant for a farewell, but it didn't feel like it at all, actually. It felt like reassurance.

Your throat was tightened by emotions as you spoke.

"I'm so glad you're alive, Vince," you smiled, tears shining in your eyes. "I'm so glad you're fine… I missed you so much."

"I missed you too," Vincent breathed, his eyes filled with withheld tears as well. "I missed you so much…"

"I'm sure Sirius will agree when I say that you can come visit us whenever you like."

Both Sirius and Vincent exchanged a glance, and Vincent looked at you with a puzzled expression.

"Y/N… I love you. I've never stopped loving you. I thought that the reason I've come back was clear…"

"It was," you nodded.

You let go of Sirius's hand, and walked closer to Vincent. Sirius crossed his arms before his torso, feeling his throat tightening and vision getting blurry. He took a step back, not wanting to see you fall into his arms again, and yet unwilling to say goodbye just yet, he could steal a few more moments with you if he stayed. He was certain that he would never see you again after you chose Vincent. He had come to this decision. He would never be strong enough to see you loving him… he realized that now.

Sirius's breath caught in his throat. He had this strange feeling in his chest, heavy, painful feeling and he knew that his heart was about to be broken. He just had to wait for you to speak the words that would shatter it forever.

He thought for a second that he could fight for you. That he could give you a thousand arguments to choose him and not Vincent, he could punch Vincent in the face, do something to hold you back, anything… He would have done anything at all…

But was it really what was best for you?

Sirius was a fighter, but he loved you enough to give up. He had always been stubborn but he loved you enough to let go. With all the darkness he hid deep down inside him, and all these wounds that were never truly healed, and all the pain he had to carry… Sirius was more fragile than he looked. You knew it, you were one of the few to be allowed to see him without his armour.

Sirius had never thought that he deserved you. And if you asked him to, for once, he wouldn't fight. If you asked him to, he would let you go. For your own sake, for your happiness… he was ready to give up on you, pack his bag, and disappear.

But the words that passed your lips were not the ones he expected to hear at all…

"But Vincent, it's been so long… I'm not the girl you loved then, not anymore. I built another life for myself. I can't give up on everything for you…"

"Why not? We could build this life we wanted during the war, we could get a fresh start and have the life that we wanted, together."

"I can't do that. I… I'm sorry. But I don't want to do that."

You shook your head.

"I'm so happy you're here. I was devastated when you went missing, and I… It took me so long to feel free to move on. I still felt guilty because I got to have a happy life when you were gone. But I've changed. I've changed and… you will always have a place in my heart. But you don't own it anymore. Actually… I realize now that you never owned it at all. I loved you, but it wasn't the kind of love I have now. I don't want to sound harsh, but you can't… I can't be with you anymore. I don't want to. And it may sound selfish but knowing that you're fine is… liberating. I won't feel guilty to be happy anymore. So thank you, for coming here. And if you want, we can still be friends. But we won't be anything more. We had our time together, but the moment has passed. And you need to move on, just like I did."

"Are you sure?"

But you nodded, and when you exchanged a smile with Sirius, Vincent knew he was defeated. You had never looked at him the way you looked at Sirius…

"I'm sorry. But I love Sirius. And I'm very happy with him. Happier than I've ever been. And I wouldn't give up on him, not for anything. I'm sorry."

"Do you… do you love him more than you loved me?" Vincent asked in a trembling voice.

You nodded, a smile forming on your lips and a tear rolling down your cheek.

"I do. He's the one for me. I know he is. I'm sorry, Vince."

"I understand."

"If you want, you can come for dinner next Sunday…"

"I'm not sure it's a good idea, but thank you. As long as you're happy… And if I can't make you change your mind…"

You shook your head, and he could read in your eyes that indeed, you would never change your mind. He had lost you for good this time.

"I wish you both the best then. Farewell."

"Farewell, Vince."

He turned around and walked into the street, and you turned to walk back in your home, Sirius following close.

He leaned against the door as he closed it behind him, and Sirius took your hand, pulling you into his arms.

He heaved a sigh.

"Thank you," he breathed. "But are you sure about that…"

You shushed him by pressing your lips against his, and you held him tightly against you.

"I'm sure," you breathed as you finally broke away. "I'll always be sure about us."

Sirius gave you a bright smile, looking down at your eyes but still holding you in his arms.

"Well then… I propose pancakes and cuddles. A lot of cuddles. And I want to be little spoon… after almost losing you today, I deserve being little spoon," he laughed, but you didn't miss the tears in his eyes.

You shook your head, cupping his cheek.

"You will never lose me. You're the one who owns my heart, and you always will be."

And as you stared up at him, both of you crying and both of you smiling, you found yourself feeling more peaceful than ever. All traces of guilt had been lifted from your heart. This idea that you didn't deserve this happiness because Vincent had never had the chance to find anything like it had disappeared. His ghost had stopped haunting you. And it felt wonderful.

"I love you, Sirius."

He tightened his hold on you and pressed his face into your hair. You had chosen him. You had had a chance to be with Vincent, but you had chosen him. And these three words that you had spoken already before wore now a brand-new meaning. You really did love him. And not because you couldn't have Vincent. You loved him, because you had chosen to. And that was the best feeling he had ever experienced…

You loved him for the man he was. He guessed that it meant that he wasn't such a destroyed soul then, and that his wounds would be given a chance to keep on healing. You were the best remedy for his tortured soul, after all.

He silently promised himself to never let you go. He would keep on spending his life trying to make you just as happy as you made him.

"I love you, Y/N."

**************************************

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hell-heron · 5 years

Note

Ok, go on and ramble all you wish about "patience perforce and willful choler meeting" sweets 💖💖

Oh gosh. Thanks so much for asking but omgg I'm taking seven years. Lets do in bullet point form https://archiveofourown.org/works/22016362

- I had the idea of Benvolio having given Tybalt the eye scar he has in the Italian production as kids in his first real brush with violence quite a lot ago, tho it was meant to be Bencutio hurt/comfort so I repurposed it. Nothing to do with the weird Reylo phase I had around then I swear. The scene of Romeo trying to curl up to him and Benvolio freaking out bc this is just fucking up and corrupting him more is from there too

- I do love this one so much style wise. I really wish I could have done transitions/logistical parts more smoothly (a common problem with my writing is that I always end up setting it over too many days bc I need stuff to happen at night and the sense of time is conveyed weirdly then?? My first awful 12k production was set over years and much better paced I think) but overall I feel great about it and I'm happy I experimented with Tyvolio.

- The kids I imagine for this are like. A lot younger versions of Daibalt and the cute baby Volio from the 1968 movie, tho personality wise they take a lot from the Cocciante's Giulietta e Romeo's dynamic. I couldn't help myself but include "you're fighting with yourself" agdhsj

- I went through a LOT of titles. the Google doc was called Little victims after, I'm ashamed to say, that Emis Killa song that goes "two world that should always be apart/that of children and that of grownups/mixing them makes the worst damage in the best years/turns little victims to big bastards". But I also considered "Rondinini", baby swallows, from X agosto which you know (could actually be a good team name for the Batfam AU...) some lyrics from, I shit you not, French Nightmare before Christmas that's like "there are too many good children here/we prefer the rabid ones" and some basic Shakespeare stuff like "drawn and talk of peace" and "hell all Montagues and thee". But I really loved this one bc its both a badass Tybalt quote and, on a symbolic level, a good description of the kids

-I have NO IDEA what's up with weird 14 yo edgy atheist Volio beyond the fact he's just a fucking plague in this fic. Maybe Contrast to Tybalt's well known sexy and catholic vibes

- I seriously considered switching the whole thing to modern AU for the sake of the poor soul this was from several times. Implying Volio having to break in Tybs' hospital room yeah... and the Lammas'eve ball here was the street party for Italy's victory at the 2006 world cup which I'd rather not comment the Projecting levels

- I feel REALLY bad about how I ship Vincenzo and Sandro now bc the implication here is definitely that the kids' dads somehow stabbed each other to death lol. And I don't think i made it was clear but the idea is Benvolio did see that, but he has a kind of mental block because he really couldn't handle that memory, and the fact he would be expected to want revenge if he knew

- I really kind of wish I had Tybalt's POV here bc it would really change how the final scenes came off I think. He wants someone to love him and take care of him so badly but he has no self worth and doesn't really think he can have that without being Humiliated, and there's this conflict between Benvolio just having naturally a soft and comforting personality so he would be ideal but also scaring him because he's an Enemy and the one who hurt him and Definitely Judging Him. And he absolutely can't be alone and needs to aggressively pack bond, which tbh Benvolio is definitely heart eyed by how affectionate and protective with the girls he is

- Mayhaps projecting but... Tybalt is in a phase where he really feels that he isn't growing up properly. That he's passing the age where all that matters is being good with a sword and he just doesn't know who he is beyond that very structured role and how like... reputation or common sense work (contrasted to Benvolio who is hyperaware of it in a really unhealthy way but ofc Tybalt doesn't really know how much he's bullshitting too under all the Perfectionism) So he's used to being considered stupid and he's already taken being not particularly wanted by anyone for granted long ago so he really really really doesn't want to think about what happens when he isn't doing his one job anymore.

- Lord C definitely uses things upsetting Juliet which definitely didn't do any of that kind as an excuse to beat up Tybalt so often. Mostly bc its the only way to make him feel guilty enough to stop being fighty for five seconds. Sigh

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laboratorioautoral · 6 years

Text

Try to Sleep With a Broken Heart

To the lovely @circe1fanatic

During the banquet they tried to avoid each other’s gaze. As treaties were signed and speeches inflamed the room, they stood sober in their silences. It was for the greater good, but the greater good often came at the expenses of the hearts of kings, queens and princesses.

Willas Tyrell was twice her age and had a crippled leg. He was handsome although he didn’t seem aware of it. He was intelligent, witty, talented, rich...No matter how advantageous Willas could be as a husband, Arya’s heart still ached as she suffocated words and secrets that could bring kingdoms down.

Jon said nothing. His face had turned into a cold mask and the tension in his jawline was visible to anyone with eyes to see. Arya knew he was ready to see insult in the slightest mistake, so he could kick Willas out and burn the treaty Bran had worked so hard to get.

Daenerys was also aware of it. To the Dragon Queen, Arya couldn’t marry soon enough and move to the other side of the continent and as far as possible from Jon’s eyes. The Targaryen woman would never rest until she had him for herself and sharing Jon was never in her plans. Daenerys was no Visenya, no Rhaenys...She was just a woman in a foreign land, in love with the idea of a family and desperate to win hearts.

Arya could admire the Dragon Queen as someone who fought her way to the Throne and was absolutely unapologetic about it. They were both survivors and they both loved the same man. The difference was that Arya had no Targaryen blood to make her feelings for Jon something easy to accept. That was a level of guilt she wasn’t ready to deal with.

Willas was well aware of all the drama behind the delicate agreement between House Stark and House Tyrell. Arya had bluntly explained to him all of it and expected him to feel disgusted at her. Instead Willas held her hand and kissed her forehead, before telling her that everything would be settled in due time and he wouldn’t demand her love or even the marital duties, unless Arya was willing to give it to him on her own free will.

She found in him a dear friend and they had spent time together so Arya could get used to the idea of marrying the man. Willas could make her laugh and they could talk for hours without the conversation ever becoming boring. It was a good thing, wasn’t it? So why she still wanted to cry whenever she thought about Willas and High Garden?

Lord Tyrell seemed to read her mind at times and just when Arya felt as she was about to crumble down, he held her hand discreetly as if he was silently reassuring her that everything would be fine. Jon saw that and his instinctively rested on the sword’s hilt.

When the feast was over Arya could barely wait to be in the quietness of her room. Willas was kind enough to escort her, even if his leg made it a tremendous effort. Arya figured he wanted to talk to her without anyone near to listen.

“It pains me to see you like this.” Willas finally said in a sad tone. “I’m not stupid, Arya. I can see how hard it’s being to you and you just have to say the world and I’ll cancel everything.”

Arya took a deep breath as she felt even more guilty. She didn’t deserve a man like him. She didn’t deserve Willas kindness or friendship.

“It’s not only about me and you. My selfishness won’t torn the country apart again and...Daenerys is the right choice for him. With dragons at her disposal, I’m not sure how graciously she would face another woman threatening her idea of family.” Arya answered stubbornly.

“Daenerys needs Jon more, than Jon needs her. Dragons will only help so much and I’ve never known about dragon fire stirring passion instead of fear. If she needs coercion to have the man, than she never had him in the first place.” Willas insisted with kindness. “I would love it if you could ever feel for me the tenth part of what you feel for him, but I have no illusions. I know I’m too old for you and my leg doesn’t make me any more appealing. You deserve better than a man like me and I won’t force you into this if you tell me that you can’t handle it. I would rather be a good friend, than the man that condemned you to misery. I can find myself another bride and still hold to my word to you and Brandon.”

“You are the one who deserves better than a poor excuse of a lady. I’m terrible at needlework; I can’t sing or write poems...I would make you miserable when you deserve someone who can love you for the wonderful man that you are.” She finally gave in and her tears broke free. “I want to love you, Willas. I swear I do...Just give me time. Be patient and I promise I’ll do my best to make you happy.”

“At what cost, my dear?” He cupped her cheek with his free hand and make Arya look directly at him. “I know what happened the last time a Lord stood between a she-wolf and her dragon prince. I prefer to think that we learned the lesson and history won’t repeat itself. Yours is a face meant to bring kings and kingdoms to their knees. You were never born to be an ordinary lady. You are too noble at heart and too strong at soul to be anything but a queen in your own right.” Willas kissed her forehead gently as his thumb brushed over her cheek. “I’ll have you for my wife if so you want to be, but I won’t stand between you and your happiness. This war was hard on you, my dearest friend. You deserve to smile again.”

“Thank you.” It was the only thing she could say before hugging him with sincere affection. Willas answered the gesture with his usual and respectful kindness.

Once he was gone and Arya laid in bed hopping that sleep would find her eventually, all the things Willas had promised her came back to her mind. It was a tempting offer. One that she was eager to accept, in spite of all the politics and peace treaties behind that union.

Hours might have passed and Arya was still wide awake as she looked to the fire burning in the fireplace. She wanted to sleep, but how can someone sleep with a broken heart?

Arya heard the door opening behind her and the sound of steps walking toward her bed. For a moment she stood very still, holding her breath and wondering what he wanted.

“Do you love him?” Jon asked in a half strangled voice. If she didn’t know him as she did, Arya would say he had been crying. “I...I need to know this. Before I go mad, and before I can do something very stupid...Tell me that you love him and I’ll swallow my pride and wish you both a happy life together.”

Arya rolled on bed to look at him. He had been crying and the dark circles around his eyes also told her that he hadn’t slept in days. Jon’s hair was a mess as he stood in his breeches and shirt, looking like someone who had tried to shut up all the voices inside his head and failed.

“I don’t.” Arya answered simply. “It’s not about love though. You know it isn’t.”

“Fuck it! Fuck him and Daenerys and everything else! I won’t stay here watching this farce!” Jon nearly growled out of anger, despair and frustration. “Come with me. Let us...Let us go North, or to Braavos...”

“We can’t. You are the King in the North and soon you will marry Daenerys. This is for the kingdoms and for everything we fought for. We can’t destroy the little peace we got out of this...Sickness.” Arya insisted although every word costed her ten years of life.

“Do I make you feel sick?” He asked and she knew that those words hurt him badly.

“Sometimes...When I remember when we used to play together, or as we used to swim and laugh...You will always be my brother in a way and...I am not a Targaryen. I can’t pretend that I don’t feel disgusted for loving you as I do.”

“So blame it on me and my blood for it.” He answered sharply. “I’m done holding back every time I have something I love being taken away from me. I’ll kill him and be done with it. His brother will be delighted to inherit everything and you will be free again.”

“Willas would cancel the marriage if I asked him too. He promised me that much time and time again.” Arya replied bitterly. “He is a good man. He deserves better than to be trapped in this madness. Go back to Daenerys. Try to fuck her again. Maybe you’ll forget about me and move on.”

“Are you doing this out of jealousy? To punish me?” Jon was suddenly divided between shock and rage.

“No. I’m doing this because she is in love with you and has two dragons left. I can’t trust her to accept rejection gracefully.” Arya growled at him as she sat on her bed with a bitter taste on her mouth. “You went to her and asked for help. You should be prepared to pay for it.”

“I died for you. I came back for you. I killed for you.” Jon knelled in front of her with his hands resting on her legs. “You too should be ready to pay the price for being my last and my first thought. You will tell him to cancel the wedding.”

“Then what?” Arya defied him. “Will you tell Daenerys to disappear? Do you think she will without complains or threats?”

“I’ll kill her too, if I must.” Jon’s voice was cold and resolute as he parted her legs and pushed Arya back to bed. “If she refuses to see the obvious...Before that I’ll make it plain and simple for them to understand that you and I...We belong together.”

At that point Jon was on top of her and his hand had already pulled the rem of her nightgown up so Arya would be completely exposed from waste down. His forehead pressed against hers...Arya could smell the wine in his breath and feel him had between her legs.

“You are mine, and I am yours.” Jon whispered. “No other man will have you like this. I won’t allow.”

“You should go back to your room before someone finds out that you are here.” Arya insisted. She tried to push him away, but Jon was too strong and she wasn’t so sure if she wanted to be alone again.

“Let them find out.” His voice was low and dark. “Your good name will be ruined and the world will know that you are mine.”

His mouth covered hers with lust and hunger. It was a harsh kiss, full of rage, jealousy and bitterness. Arya answered it with equal disposition, as if the world was about to end and Jon’s body on top of hers was the only thing that mattered.

She had countless opportunities to tell him to stop and put an end to the madness, but every kiss felt like another reason for her to forget about names, politics and everything else that wasn’t them. Arya let Jon have what he wanted. The comfort of a friend and the eagerness of a lover. It was only when he carelessly entered her, that Arya realized that they had reached a point of no return.

A loud cry escaped her mouth and Jon stood very still for a while. Arya kept her eyes closed as the pain faded and Jon caressed her face. When she opened her eyes, Arya saw them reflected at Jon’s. A shadow of panic, shame and sudden acceptance crossed her face. There was no going back.

From pain to sweetness and the pleasures only passion can inspire...When everything was said and done, they could finally sleep.

#jon and arya #jon x arya #jon/arya #jonarya #jonrya #drabble

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monochromaticinsignias · 6 years

Text

Park Jimin | Your, My

Full Title : Your Last Dream, My Last Dance

Sub / Other Title : Dreams, Dance, and Wedding Rings

Bestfriends au

Non idol au

Words : 12k

A/N : I am SO sorry for the lack of updates! ;_; This one is longer than what I usually write, so I hope this makes up for my absence? Have a shit ton of angst, luv.

Ps. By far the longest I’ve written?

Summary : The two of you were at a rocky path, it's just not how it used to be--as best friends, not when he completely misunderstood you. Not when all you did was to keep him away from pain. You'd do anything to keep your best friend happy, even going as far as to let go of your only wish for his sake.

Sub - plot : You love ‘him’, you really did. So when ‘he’ left, you can’t help but question yourself; “what if I told him?”

Your Last Dream, My Last Dance | ft. Jungkook

The sweet sound of bells was present in that dreamy landscape, just as he himself imagined. But there was no one there atop that lone beautiful cliff with an outstanding view of the setting sun, only him, and his wife to be.

The black haired man smiles sweetly, the orange rays delicately picturing his sculptured face as his arms round the waist of the girl in front of him.

She looks beautiful in white.

The wind suddenly picks up around them, and it only increased her beauty as he held her hands in his own. As the magical sounds of the bells died down, he slips a pretty, gold ring on her finger. Smiling widely as he laughs, and scoops her up for a kiss that ended all worries, and all heartaches.

He doesn’t want to wake up, but he does.

Jungkook awakens from his sleep due to the ringing of his phone, his form held upright as he looked around for the device. It took him off guard a second later, however, when he feels a cold sensation slipping down his cheeks.

He reaches for his phone whilst swiping off .. a tear, from just under his eyes.

Why is he crying?

Shakily pressing the answer button, he nears it to his ear. About to demand why he was awakened at an ungodly hour in the early morning when the caller beats him to it.

It takes him a minute or two, but when the words finally processed in his mind, he breaks down and drops the phone.

You are Park Jimin's best friend, although many thought you two were a couple, you were not. You were his friend and he was yours, there's a fine line dividing your hearts and you two preferred it that way. You'd do anything for him, especially when his happiness is at stake. And of course it's not only him, it's also for his wife-to-be, Seolhyun.

You knew each other ever since you were both children, your parents are awfully close that your mothers even had you sleep next to each other when you were babies. There's a photo in the album that proves it. Each photo probably shows that wherever you are, Jimin is there, and wherever he is, you're there. You are technically each other's half.

You were with him and he was with you through running around playgrounds in kinder, through roleplaying in gradeschool, through puberty in highschool and to that stressful part in college that leads on to your jobs. You've known him for more than a decade.

Many assumed that since you two have been together for so long than your exes and his, it would've been impossible not to have catch up on some feelings with one another. But no matter how much they tried to push one onto the other, it just doesn't work.

You tried working it out in a date, but that ended pretty amusing. Because at the end of the day, you two came to a conclusion that it just won't work out--that you're better off as besties.

No one complained, and thus the start of your life adventures with your best friend.

That was until the two of you left the province to go to the heart of the South; Seoul, where he stumbled -literally- on a fine girl named Seolhyun. You remember standing by the side flashing him kissy faces when he kept apologizing with a red face, and stammered a whole lot before going back at your side. You figured he really liked her, so you took the initiative to get her number with your winks that practically screamed 'I'll-help-you-get-the-dude'. Which, is not quite needed since Jimin obviously has the hots for her too.

The adventures you've had with Jimin ended slowly ever since the appearance of the beautiful, kind hearted Seolhyun who trusted the two of you and is fine whenever you two get a bit touchy, not too much, but subtle. She knew you two were friends and that's that, but of course, a girlfriend's gotta be jealous sometimes.

So there came the first argument.

You were just sitting on one of your chairs in front of the canvas, a brush in your hand with the bristles coated in a leafy green colour. Jimin came barging in at four in the afternoon looking so drained and somewhat guilty. He clasped his hand around your wrist, taking you by surprise.

"Jimin?" you voiced out that day, "What are you doing here? I thought you were on a date with Seo?" he flinched the second he heard her nickname. The two of you had been close, being girls and all, and somehow.. She managed to get so jealous.. To the fact that she assumed something so wrong and taboo.

"I was," Jimin mumbled, not once letting go of your wrist, but tightening it in lieu of dropping it down. "But you came up in the subject." he finished. You were much too bright to quickly pick up that the topic about you was not entirely on a positive note, but a negative one.

You chuckled, "Ah, did she spoke of our sleepover? I told her not to te--"

"You need to stay away from us." The words he said processed slowly in your brain, your smile ever so slowly giving way for a frown.

"W.. What?"

He sighed.

"We can't hang out that much anymore. I.. I have Seolhyun, now."

You dropped the brush in shock and disappointment. Did she doubted you and your sincere feelings for Jimin as a friend? Did she not.. Trust you and him? Or was this just what she really wanted?

"Yes, you have her, so what? That doesn't mean I have to stay away from my best friend, now, right?" came your strained reply.

The ethereal looking man sighed, his fingers running across his hair in exasperation.

You were always so stubborn, you wouldn't back down.

"She thinks we're having an affair behind her back, [Y/n]. I can't let her think like that." he said in defeat, an utterly lost look in his eyes. Minutes ago, he's in a conflict because he didn't know whether to go by his lover's wish or keep the friendship he had for more than two decades.

It was her or you.

"But we're not!" you exclaimed, splattering the rest of the paint accidentally on the ground due to your unexpected outburst. "How can she think like that? She knows you're loyal to her and her alone! Why is--"

"Shut up! Don't speak to her that way because she has the right to think like so! She's my lover and you're my best friend! A girl, [Y/n]. It's obvious she'd be thinking that we have something going on, and I can't let that happen." You fell silent as you watched Jimin pace around the room in a worried manner.

Constant murmurs leaving his lips.

"And I can't let the love of my life go.." he whispered.

You felt bad.

You had no idea Jimin felt like this all along. He must've been torn in decisions, you knew he thinks of your well being as much as he thinks of hers, and to decide between a lover he wants for the rest of his life and a friend he's supposed to keep in touch with.. Is difficult.

So perhaps.. Maybe this time, you could help him, even if it hurts you.

Jimin is a part of your life ever since you were born, and as you know, you were his half. His platonic half, you two had a friendship unbreakable. For him to suddenly just say that you should.. Keep your distance, even with all the plausible reasons he has up in his sleeve.. Is just terrible.

But for him, you could do it.

".. Okay,"

He looked up at you with wide, beady eyes that glossed over with a sanctum of tears. He couldn't believe his ears when you agreed to his words, and somehow can't help but feel anguish at the sight of you looking so defeated.

"Y-you.." he stammered.

And to confirm his statements, you gave him a strained smile.

"I'll uh, keep my distance. I just hope that what I'm about to do will at least help you make amends with her, again.."

You were an angel brought to this world and Jimin knows it, you were so kind--too kind. He knows that maybe at some point, he's using this to his advantage, but he can't help it. When Seolhyun appeared, it seemed as if she had been the centre of his universe. With his best friend retaining the position of being the millions of stars that depicted his everyday with you.

With a mixed cry and laugh, he hugged you tightly. Repeating his thank you's all over again before parting and scurrying away with a wave of your hand.

Leaving you with an unsure heart of despair and longing.

The weeks that followed afterwards is complicated, difficult. You were so spent away, the brushes that flew over the canvas are too dull. The paintings are too simple, so bland. Your mind isn’t working properly and for some reason, everything is so grey and black and white.

You were used to your best friend’s presence.

To have him like, away for more than ten feet as much as crazy as it sounds, is rather depressing.

You were huffing as you entered an art shop, you were a usual there so you knew where is what. Taking a basket, you subconsciously trudged through the aisles and greeted whenever an employee you know greets you.

You took more brushes, more paint, and pencils and sketchpads. One can never get too much pencils when it comes to art.

You weren’t looking in front of you as you made your way towards the cashier, yawning to yourself as you began imagining what you might paint later.

Or maybe you could just go to the park--

Completely taken off guard, a body slams into you quite literally, something landing on your foot so badly that it caused you to grasp onto your basket for dear life as you stumbled backwards. Luckily enough that you didn’t fall, but half your side did hurt like hell. And your [c] Timbs are now dirty!

“Oh, oh crap. I am so sorry, I swear I--”

A bit infuriated yet calm, you look up, only to see a man your age. He was taller for sure, and his black hair is slightly swept to side, he’s garbed in a black tee and pants--and Timberlands.. !?

Oh, an eye catcher, this dude is. If only he didn’t ram into you.

You noticed he has not completed his sentence, and is instead staring at you in what seems to be awe. You scrunch your nose lightly.

“Yeah, well, sorry, too. Now I must be on my way and wash my boots--”

That seemed to perk his head up, because you were not even far away when his hand grasps your wrist. His heavenly voice ringing out.

“Wait! I uh, I’ll pay for you,” this caught you off guard.

Looking at him over your shoulder, you blink.

Ah, he’s cute..

His cheeks went pink.

Immediately realizing what just happened because you, apparently, had just said that out loud, you jump backwards. But his grip was firm, thus causing him to topple forward as well, only decreasing the space between you.

And if his cheeks were pink before, they were flaming now.

“Oh-uh, I er, thank you.” he swiftly takes the basket from you and speed walks to the cashier, giving you no choice -even if you scream- but to follow the heavenly bunny like stranger.

Along the way, you couldn’t help but notice you’re a bit livelier now. A smile decorating your lips as you stand behind him, watching as he paid for your things, including his as well; which seemed to be a bunch of photo papers and a scrapbook.

“You really shouldn’t have bought me these.” you mention as he held the door open for you as the two of you made your exit from the shop.

A boyish chuckle erupts from beside you.

“Nah, it’s the least I could do. I’m Jungkook by the way,” he introduces himself.

You find yourself smiling, looking at him, only to find him already doing the same to you.

“I’m [Y/n].”

Seeing as it was quite the evening, Jungkook walked you back home. And you found out he’s actually quite near to your house, his being only like, a block away from yours.

You were smiling the entire time you entered your abode, laying down the bag of stuff he had bought for you due to that accident. You began to put them out of the bag one by one, checking if you got all necessities when your fingers grasped a torn piece of paper.

Puckering your lower lip out in thought, you pull it out, only causing your cheeks to redden in the subtlest way possible.

09 - XXX - XXXX

Jungkook

You went to bed that night peacefully, you enjoyed that day. Meeting Jungkook was a great way to actually get rid of Jimin in your head for a while, you had nothing more to worry about. At least, not when your best friend’s about to be married to the love of his life.

The next day, as promised in the tiny scrap of paper in your bag told, you received a call with the exact numbers written on it.

“Helloooo~” you giggle as soon as you heard him drawling out the last syllable of that simple word, you can basically see his contagious smile over the phone.

Setting down your cup of coffee, you leaaned against the counter, smiling.

“Good morning, Jungkook.”

A muffled laugh was heard from the other line, a masculine voice, actually, so you figured he wasn’t alone. Still smiling, you let them bicker, until--

“Hi! I’m Hoseok--”

“Hyung, gimme back my phone!!”

“--Guk really finds you easy to talk to and says you’re pretty, so can I ask you out on a date?”

“H-Hyung!? You traitor!”

Another laugh and some occasional tumbles and thuds erupted from the other end, and you remained silent until you could process the words the man named Hoseok had told you.

You have never been called pretty, not even by your exes--which is a stupid thing for them not to say, actually. Jimin’s definition of calling you ‘pretty’ is similar to how he says ‘you look cool’ and that’s it. So you could explain why your heart is beating so unnaturally fast right now.

Unaware of the escalating screams on the call, you were only taken back into place when you heard the familiar sound of a door slamming shut, and the sound of a body hitting a mattress.

“Sorry, my friend is a bit of a blabbermouth.”

You bit your lower lip, anticipating the events that will probably come after.

“Oh, that’s fine. Reminds me of Jimin, really.”

You weren’t even able to process what you said until you said it out loud.

For fuck’s sake, why did you have to mention his name right now?

The other end was silent for a tiny bit, and you nearly sighed in disappointment to yourself, thinking he had already hung up.

But then.

“Oh, you have a boyfriend?” he sounded a little down.

You jumped at your place, “Best friend! He’s my best friend, actually..” you drawl out a nervous laugh afterward because you sounded quite desperate to your liking.

As if your lucky day -which it is- , Jungkook laughs.

“Great~ So does this mean I can take you out later?”

No words escaped your mouth, you stood there dumbfounded in your dining area, a stupid grin decorating your red face.

“R-really?”

He snorts, “Yeah, really. Why not? I really want to get to know you--a-and maybe even more, if you don’t mind..” he grows embarrassed at the later parts of his sentence, his voice growing meeker with each passing second.

This was just a man who you had bumped into at an art store, and yet your heart seemed to agree with the chances of meeting up with him again.

So with a doubled grin, you chuckled.

“I don’t mind.”

True to his word, as soon as it struck ten, he was already at your door. You had dressed up well but not too much. Casual yet fancy along with your favorite pair of Timbs to go.

You knew you made the right choice when he flashed a certain glimmer in his eyes when he took notice of your boots.

“I noticed you wearing a different pair last night but I didn’t expect you to like them as much as I do.” your smile widens when you realized he was wearing the exact pair. No words were exchanged when he raised his arm for you to take, you only held it with a sweet lopsided grin, and stepped off your door.

You had lunch at a place in between fancy and normal, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You thought he’d actually be the guy who usually takes out their dates to movies and such and spoils them of stuff, but Jungkook actually took you to the amusement park. Where he, by the way, murdered your soul after three continuous roller coaster rides.

He didn’t stop there. He made you go on all dangerous rides and even went laser tagging, which you beat him at, much to his surprise.

Your day was filled with laughter and bliss as the day eased slowly into night, you were more than two hours in the amusement park that you actually lost track of the time.

You were only reminded by it when you were eating your cotton candy and laughing at a humiliating story of Jungkook, when your phone vibrated in the pockets of your jeans--indicating a message.

Excusing yourself, you took it out only to view the all too familiar name of your best friend.

‘Where are you? You’re not home, it’s our movie night! :(’

It read. And for a moment, you felt a tad bit guilty for forgetting that it was indeed your movie night. It was a Friday! But how could you remember it when he skipped the last three in a row?

Sighing in exasperation, you tucked the device back in your pocket and faced Jungkook -who looked concern- with a strained smile.

“Sorry, it was Jimin.”

He bobs his head, fringe bouncing as he took half of the cotton candy in his mouth. Working wonders as he downed it as if it was a tiny candy.

“Best friend problems?” he casts you a glance, enough for him to see your twitching eye. Your knuckles were white and your cheeks were flushed red in what seems to be annoyance as you nodded in reply.

“Care to tell me?” he tips it off with a little grin, his pearly bunny white like teeth showing--you couldn’t resist smiling back. “He has a.. what you can call a serious relationship right now, he seems to really like her--a-and we’re friends, too. Me and the girl. But as of now, she’s ticked off with the fact that Jimin and I are still close when he already has her. Now he’s not hanging out that much anymore with me, and I didn’t know he’d be dropping by to watch movies tonight because he skipped the last three Fridays!” you ended with a large intake of air, unable to believe that you were able to finish that in a single breath.

Jungkook looks pretty baffled, obviously not expecting the entire story.

You take a glance, expecting a face of discomfort, or anything that will give way of his sudden dislike, but there was none. If anything, there’s only understanding and a soft smile.

“Hey, don’t worry ‘bout him. If he already has someone, then it shouldn’t bother you at all. Everyone’s bound to fall in love, right?” there’s a peculiar shimmer in his eyes when he said that that made your heart skip a beat.

Although you knew him just a day ago, you couldn’t help but feel like you knew him forever. It’s probably just you liking him a teeny, wee bit, though.

So you ignored the constant vibrating of your phone and locked eyes with the handsome man in front of you.

It was ten in the evening when the two of you stumbled back to the front of your door, still laughing at each other’s corny jokes and humiliating stories.

He bids you a good night, even going far like kissing the back of your hand in either pure sincerity or mockery. Either way, it made your cheeks pink.

Jungkook waves goodbye to you before hopping on his motorbike and riding off.

With a stupid grin on your lips, you entered the confines of your abode, only to freeze when you spotted Jimin standing just at the entrance way to the living room. A remote in his hand and his phone in the other. By the silence, you can hear the familiar dialogue of “The Fault in Our Stars” playing, a tear-jerking movie you watched with him and laugh about stupid stuff in the end.

“.. Hi.” you greeted him after taking off your boots.

Jimin looked ready to explode, his face already similar to a ripened tomato.

“Hi?! Are you insane!? It’s this late and you arrived just now—and who was that guy I heard from outside?!” he bellowed, throwing his hands up in the air in distaste.

You made sure that he can see the roll of your eyes, wanting to present that he wasn’t only the one at fault here.

You walked past him, bumping his shoulder with your own.

“Yeah, say that to the guy who ignored me for weeks on end, skipped promised movie nights, and has the ego to come here and be angry at me.” you spat, plopping back on the couch as you switched to a different movie. You don’t feel like watching the usual.

Judging by the silence, you knew Jimin’s face had softened and his anger died down.

Good.

He should at least know he’s partially at fault, as well.

You said nothing when he sits on the other end of the couch, but you can feel his stare digging at the side of your face, eager to look for attention or any sort of reaction he’d get from his silence.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to ignore you.”

You snorted loudly in mockery.

“I meant that!” he shouts, and you find yourself shrinking and being annoyed all over again. You didn’t know why you were acting like this. It’s not like you’re his lover or anything, you were just a best friend.

Jimin crosses his arms, facing the other way with a glare.

“Why the heck are you being like this anyway?” he mumbles discreetly.

You didn’t know yourself, but you had a hunch as to why.

You were so attached to Jimin that you were scared of letting go of him, your best friend, whisked away by his lover and you’d be left alone. You had no right to keep him to yourself, not when you know you aren’t the one making him happy. You were just a best friend, that title meant the world, but you still couldn’t help but want him around.

“I’m sorry, too. I know you were just worried.”

But that doesn’t change the fact that he ignored you as if you were nothing.

The voice plagued your mind, and you know that much that it’s true.

It doesn’t change the truth that he can neglect you because he has Seolhyun, now.

At your eigth date with Jungkook, he had taken you to watch movies. The cinema was quite packed, in fact, and the two of you had just bought your tickets and popcorn and are preparing to go inside the theater while sharing another one of your jokes.

You were too busy laughing at him demonstrating an embarrassing move he once did at high school to bother apologizing properly to someone you had bumped into.

But before you could take a step further, his voice spoke amidst the crowd.

Evidently freezing you in place.

“[Y/n]? Is that you?”

You could feel your heart thundering as you were turned to face him, eyes going wide at the sight of his hand holding another. Seolhyun, who was glaring at you for some reason.

“Hey, what’s wrong?”

Jungkook.

You figured the aforementioned man in your thoughts took his place beside you, with Jimin’s face contorting into that of confusion. His free hand on your shoulder withdrawing itself rapidly.

“Who’s this?” he emphasizes his tone, eyes narrowing and hand tightening around Seolhyun’s, the latter squealing in pain.

You gulp.

But why should you be nervous?

“Jungkook, this is Jimin, my best friend. Jimin, this is Jungkook, my..” you drifted off almost immediately upon realizing the fact that you and him aren’t under any labels of sorts. Your silence was slowly irking your best friend, his foot tapping in impatience.

Say he’s a colleague or something--

“Boyfriend.” Jungkook spoke up after assuming that your voice had gone.

You went frigid, colors draining from your face.

Did he just!?

There was a look of disappointment.. or hurt, that flashed over Jimin’s face. You didn’t know why, and why he had the audacity to feel so, but he seemed enraged all of a sudden.

“We’ll talk, later.” he hisses at you, whisking Seolhyun away to the busy crowd in lieu of properly saying farewell.

Jungkook turns you back to the place towards the cinema, huffing out his irritation, not realizing his draped arm on your shoulders.

“That guy’s your best friend? Pfft. Seems like he has issues.” you couldn’t resist the smile covering your lips at his words, foolishly chuckling along with him.

Until.

“Wait, what’s the deal with you saying you’re my boyfriend, huh?!” you slammed a fist on his chest, Jungkook, laughing at your attempted attack. He didn’t even budge. Rolling his shoulder, he winks your way.

“What. I was going to ask you if you’d be my girlfriend, either way.”

“W-what!?” Redness overcame the entirety of your face, your fingers twitching as the man before you placed a surprising kiss at your left cheek. Chuckling at the warmness of your face.

Lacing his hand in yours, he pulls you to the cinema. And for that moment, your worries were briefly removed.

When Jungkook dropped you off your house as his ‘official girlfriend’ and had parted ways for the night, you wore a smile on your face.

You have completely forgotten what you were supposed to expect the second you came to the living room. There, Jimin was waiting, like he did when you ignored him. But he didn’t look too happy. No, he was mad.

“Care to spill why you never told me of this?” he demands, stopping in front of you with a glare that sent shivers up and down your spine.

You licked your lips in thought, crossing your arms.

“It didn’t matter to you, you have Seolhyun now, remember?” you reminded him, reminded him of the same words he used on you.

Steam blew from his ears as his cheeks reddened in what seems to be annoyance.

“I thought we’re through with this? Are you jealous right now? This argument ended months ago. I have Seolhyun for more than two years!”

You faced him back, a glare in your face as you snorted.

"That doesn't change the fact that you pushed me away every single time, your best friend you were supposed to hang out with, as well!"

Jimin's anger reduces lightly, but it wasn't removed completely.

"That—"

"I waited for you, Jimin. I waited but no! What would make you drop your girlfriend so easily for your best friend, anyway?" you looked away, feeling the tears brim your eyes.

Silence took over the room, but you were a hundred percent sure the tension is lingering somewhere.

You wanted to take back what you said, knowing it will make the situation worse, but you couldn't. It felt right stating what you were feeling, how unfair it was of him to just think of.. of her.

".. Nothing,"

Your ears perked up, and you glimpsed back.

"What?"

Jimin looked appalled, his eyes searching everywhere but yours. As if dancing from one place to another.

Finally, after what seems to be an eternity, he looks at you. Certainty playing right through his shining eyes of ebony. There's this unsettling sentiment creeping into you—almost as if warning you that something bad's about to happen.

"You're right. Nothing would make me drop her for you."

Your fingers twitched in response, eyes growing astonishingly wide at his wordings. Did he just flat out degraded you? Worse, think that you're not even needed in his life, anymore?

"Yeah, why should I care about that boyfriend of yours, huh? You live your own life, and I live mine. It's not either of our obligations to know what happens to who." Jimin was ranting right now, eyes rolling in infuriation as he turned his back on you and without hesitance, started walking away with a huff.

Not wanting to feel inferior to him, you cursed aloud.

"Fuck you, Park Jimin—I hate you for doing this to me!"

That made him stop in his movements. Taking in a minute to process the words you blurted behind him. And when he did, he was certain that the clenching of his heart was evident that very instant.

With tight fists at his side, he strolled away, mumbling a sentence you managed to hear.

"I hate you all the more."

A gasp leaves your lips the very minute he walked out of your door, and possibly even your life. You never took Jimin to torment you with a deadly choice of terms in his vocabulary as a rebuttal, but he did, and it hurt.

It hurt badly.

You didn't know what went wrong, nor when the tears started slipping away from within the confines of your eyes, all there was is pain, agony, and regret. You could've handled the situation better than bursting out like that. If you did.. would the situation have changed?

Either way, you were on the floor, a blank look casting over your face as his words went on loop in your mind. Repeating itself to abuse your faulty entity all over again.

"[Y/nnnnn]~!"

You slammed the locker door shut, not fazed at all even when Jimin was already present from behind the once opened locker door.

Facing him with a childish grin, you seemed to have an inkling feeling as to why he's looking so giddy at 8 am on the first day of high school.

"Good morning, Chim. How's summer?" you grinned in a toothy fashion.

The playful nudging of his sent you laughing, thus causing him to roll his eyes with a reverberating chuckle.

"Shut up, we spent summer together. Enough of that, though! We have all our classes together!! Ain't that great!?" he squealed, jumping in his place with two sheets of paper -which were already crumbling by the way- in his hands. His actions, of course, drew attention. To which you slammed a hand on his mouth to prevent him from squealing all the more.

You give him an eye smile, taking his hand in yours as you tugged him along the crowding hallway.

"Yeah, yeah, that's great if we don't wanna be late for uh.. Pre-Calculus."

That seemed to bring forth his focus.

"Oh! Shit, [Y/n]—we're gonna be late!"

The remains of the laughter that bubbled from your throat went free, unable to actually say that it's what you had just mentioned a while ago and just let him drag you along.

"[Y/nnnn].. [Y/nnnnnnnnn]."

You heard the distinct sound of your best friend calling your name softly from the other side of the room. There were a few, choked sobs according to your hearing, and maybe even hiccups. But you didn't know why.

"Jimin?" you mumbled silently, still drowsy at the fact that you were awakened at whatever time it was in the early morning, but still, Jimin's a priority right now. He rarely cries.

So with the continuous soft whimpers you're still hearing, you slipped off the soft mattress and wore your bunny slippers. Rubbing your eye with a fist, you yawned, walking out in the hallway and not wasting a precious second to go inside Jimin's.

He was sleeping over since his parents are out on a business trip, and since he was practically like a second child to your own family, he was given a place to stay as long as he likes.

Back on the matter at hand, you closed the door behind you as you stared at the figure beneath the bundle of thrown covers with pillows surrounding it as if it's his territory.

You walked closer.

"Jiminie,"

The figure stopped shaking.

A mop of black hair peeped out from within the cover, then came the doe eyes that you've come to see every day. They were red and sore, however.

He sniffled.

"What's wrong? Nightmares gotcha?" you asked, sitting beside him on the bed with open eyes. Wanting to help him even at the deadly hour of the morning.

Jimin sits upright, the duvet falling onto his shoulders as he sniffs.

"You died."

You blinked in surprise.

His lower lip trembled.

"W-we were already in our twenties and we got into a fight, t-t-then all of a sudden you just.. I couldn't get to you because I d-didn't know and—"

He cut himself right off, professedly unable to continue that nightmare as he shook in his place.

".. And I was all alone."

His tears were once again falling like a waterfall as he sobbed into a pillow.

You were a loss for words. How did Jimin, a fourteen-year-old, cry over a nightmare like this?

Simple, it only meant he valued you so much that he'd cry about you.

Giggling, you began rubbing his back in order to calm him down. Under your touch, you could feel him easing up, his shaky sobs lessening until it turned into tiny sniffles.

"That's funny. You know I'm with you through all of this, right? I wouldn't be leaving you anytime soon! I won't be the best man if I died young~" you teased, pushing him playfully to get a reaction.

And you did.

A small laugh that became chortles, before he was full on smiling at you as if he hasn't had that nightmare from only mere minutes ago.

He appreciated you so much for being there for him.

"Thank you, [Y/nie]."

For being his best friend.

"Anytime."

To say that you were devastated by your best friend's departure from your home - and most likely your life - would be a total understatement. He meant so much to the point that you worried and fussed over him when he's not even your lover.

You didn't even care if he doesn't think of how you're doing like you do to him. All that matters is knowing if he is alright.

It had actually been another good four months without his contact, and you didn't think you could go on for such a long time. But that's all thanks to Jungkook, your own lover who held you upright the entire time.

He's been acting kinda off for a while now, though.

Ever since your latest argument with him concerning about Jimin—then again, all of your arguments are about the latter, he started being weird.

A morning after a week of not speaking with Jungkook, you felt odd.

You had awoken on the same side of the bed as usual and did your morning routine, but decided to skip a day of work with the permission of your boss because you felt peculiar that day.

So, you busied yourself around the house. Dusting off the countertops, doing the laundry, jamming to music, baking random goods, and reading a bunch of books that came from the shelves.

It was ten in the morning when it happened.

At first, you didn't mind it. It was just a headache, it can be done by anything, right? Maybe you really tired yourself out, or maybe it's the migraines kicking in. You have been staying up late for weeks on end.

But when it started to worsen; your vision blurring, your chest aching, and nose trickled down your nose, was when you started to be concerned.

All of a sudden, the world was spinning around and there was this sound of a flatline ringing in your ears sharply as if it was meant to slice your eardrums. Your head was being hammered and then your body was hot all over like you were sunk into a pool of lava and is entirely coated by an array of blue and red flames. Each step you took felt as if you are stepping on burning embers and sharp knives.

Everything stung.

As you swayed for your phone in order to call for help, your body gave in to the unexpected pain you were going through. Your knees collided with the ground, and your upper body followed right after. You landed on the carpeted floorings of your house, wheezing for air as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Shakily muttering his name, but getting no obvious help, you were caved in by the darkness.

"I can't wait,"

Seolhyun smiles sweetly as she coils her arms around her husband to be's shoulders. Looking at what he was doing as she stood behind him.

Atop the table laid out envelopes in peach coloring. Tiny roses designed around the corners of the cover with the initials of his name and his bride calligraphed beautifully on the front with gold ink.

Seolhyun kisses the crown of his head, "Thank you for making my dream a reality." with that said, she untangles her arms and walks off to do other necessities for their upcoming grand memory.

Jimin is silent as he brought one envelope to the air, a longing sigh leaving his lips as he turned it over and read the name to whom it's intended for.

[Y/n] [L/n] ,

~ You are hereby invited to the wedding of Song Seolhyun & Park Jimin ~

He had done the invitations himself, wanting to convey his feelings for everyone they plan to invite. Every heartfelt letter was done by him, so he hopes that those who received the invitation would be grateful.

Jimin glances to the parchment on the table at the side, it contained nothing but his handwritten note towards his best friend. The girl he had a fight with over a month ago and had just honestly remembered her when Seolhyun asked if they'll invite her as well.

He felt like crap when he did remember.

He knew that they fought badly and had left her house in grave terms, but it was not an excuse to forget her that easily just because of his upcoming wedding. No matter how busy he was.

Sighing, Jimin tucks in the parchment in the designated envelope before sealing it shut. He held it in his hands for a good minute, heart clenching.

She'll forgive him, right?

He tightens his hold on it.

She'll come by to his wedding.

He sets it down and stands up with a hopeful smile.

He's sure of it.

The soft sound of a beeping monitor overlapped your sense of hearing. Gently as it began, the black void suffocating you blended in with pretty colours. Slowly morphing into white nothingness.

Or so you thought.

The first thing you saw the second your eyes adapted to your environment are the white walls and [c] curtains at the side. It was fairly cold in the room, and the beeping sound of the monitor seemed close than what you actually thought.

It came to you that you are in a hospital bed, wires attached mostly to your arm. No doubt analyzing your pulse and your heart rate.

You breathed in, then out.

Who brought you here?

As if your questions were answered, the door to your room opens up, only for a doctor to come inside with a clipboard in his hands. When he spots you awake and sitting, a solemn look comes across his face.

"How are you feeling, [Y/n]? I'm Namjoon, your assigned doctor."

You nod your head to his statement, serving as a greeting. You cleared your throat and replied that you're fine now than before, soon asking about how you got to the hospital in the first place.

Namjoon blinks, saying that a neighbor had come to your house because you were not answering the phone when you were called. And had come across to your unconscious form on the ground.

You sighed in relief, unaware of the heartbreaking news that will come upon you a minute away.

The doctor sits beside you, handing you his clipboard in silence. Not completely trusting his voice, fearing it may crack at the depressing discovery in store for you.

Unsure why he had gone soundless, you lowered your gaze to the bold words written in the paper.

You look back up, only for him to frown at you.

"I'm sorry."

You walked down the sidewalk with a blank expression on your face, a bunch of papers clutched in your hand as you trudged your way to the front porch of your house. Stopping by the mailbox when you saw a part of a letter sticking out.

Humming absentmindedly and without a care in the situation, you slipped it off the mailbox. Your eyes immediately brimmed with tears the second you realized what kind of letter it was.

You bit your lip as you raced for the door, barging inside and shutting it close with the softest force. You raked a hand through your hair in hopelessness, wondering what you did to have such a consequence.

Taking off your shoes, you proceeded to the living room, planning on just shutting the blinds and bask in the darkness whilst rethinking your entire life. But you were halted in place when you spotted a hunched figure sitting on the couch.

He looks up.

Your lower lip trembled.

"Jungkook.."

There was a look of forlorn dancing within his eyes as he stands up, whispering your name and towering over your slightly shaking stature.

You didn't speak, you waited for him to utter something—anything—but maybe that's where you've gone wrong.

Maybe you should've said something first.

He sighs, worriedly looking at the floor as if it suddenly enraptured his senses.

"Listen, I don't think this," he points at you and him, "Is working out." he finishes with an exhale.

From that moment on, you felt your life draining out.

Were your ears deceiving you?

But you know they're not. Jungkook himself said so. You were not dreaming, you were living reality. And he had just broken up with you.

"What? But we're doing fine!" you argued, suddenly clutching the papers close to you. Feeling inferior at the fact that Jungkook doesn't seem disturbed at all by what you said.

He shrugs simply.

"I don't think so, [Y/n]," there was disdain all over his voice. "Every time we talk, it's about us—then it drifts over to Jimin."

The gears in your head began turning.

"It's always Jimin. I get that he's your best friend and you fought with him, but for fuck's sake, [Y/n]."

You began to understand what drove him to his breaking point.

But the second you looked up at him in fear, in hope of correcting what you've done wrong. One look at his determined face, you knew you were too late.

It was obvious that he was trying his best not to let the anger get the best of him, but it was showing off in his diction and the tone of his words. His balled up fists at his side showed up as a shred of evidence, too. He was just attempting to be calm so he wouldn't blow up.

Probably as his last act of tolerating your behavior.

"Was I not enough for you? I thought I helped you overcome the fact that Jimin is no longer your best friend?" he presses on, taking a step closer to you. "Are you still living a lie? Or maybe it's him that you love, after all."

Your eyes widened, and immediately butted back.

"That's not true. I love you, Jungkook!"

But that's all you could say.

He narrows his eyes, not once interested in what you had to add.

"Doesn't seem like it. Goodbye, [Y/n]." he walked away, brushing your shoulder over as he made his way to the front door.

Your heartbeat was pounding so loudly in your ears as you spun around, a desperate look in your face as your knees buckled.

This can't be happening!

The tears that once lined your eyes came back up along with the heavyweight against your chest, suffocating you and dragging you down to that inescapable abyss of guilt.

"Wait!"

Jungkook stops.

For that moment, there's this single thought running in his mind. Something that made him halt and wait. There was just.. something that glued him to his place, as if warning him that if he walked out, he would be regretting that decision.

He waits.

And thinks, that if you said anything, if you could just.. say something for him to stay. He will. He wanted to hear you say that you need him with you, just something along those lines and he'll stay.

But your voice was gone.

You stood there, grasping a bunch of papers that told your remaining chapters. Your life was on those papers, your heart was in the brink of shattering—but you couldn't say anything.

You didn't know how.

"I.."

You couldn't tell him.

And that made him walk away.

Just like Jimin did.

"When my wedding day comes, I want you to be my best woman."

You choked on your milkshake, eyeing your insane friend who sat smiling as if it's normal. He actually appears serious.

"I'm not a man, pabo. Can't do that I guess." you laughed in between slurps as you swung your legs back and forth from your seat on the swing.

Jimin was already whining by the time you finished your sentence, already knowing beforehand that you'll counter whatever he plans on saying.

"Then you'd be the first one to ever do it—I need my best bud giving me the rings. I'll lose them myself because I'm an idiot and I don't want my future wife to think that I—"

"You're blabbering.."

"Right! Sorry." Jimin miraculously stays silent, deciding on entertaining himself by playing with the bendy straw that poked out of the cup of his frappe.

The two of you swung with little to no sound, only kicking each other's legs in a playful manner in lieu of words.

".. I'm serious about it, though."

You hummed at his murmurs, glancing at how he looks quite determined and demanding.

"About what.. ?" you mumbled.

His radiant smile reaches his ears.

"We'll attend each other's wedding!"

For Jimin. For him, you thought to yourself.

You held the pretty little invitation in between your fingers, showcasing it to a perplexed looking Jimin who sat.

You texted him to meet you at the local café because you have to tell him something. He probably thought that you'd make up for the better, but who said you were doing that?

It hurt you to see that the smile on his face vanished as soon as he saw you throw the invitation in front of him.

"I won't attend your wedding."

You managed to say, not believing that you said that without an ounce of wobble in your voice. But still, inwardly, you were tearing yourself apart.

Jimin gulps, a silent look of rage playing before his face before softening.

He stands up and clutches the envelope in his grip. He didn't question why you wouldn't attend, and you were thankful for that—but he pushed the card into your hand, either way. And that was what hurt the most.

You could see the hope flickering in his raging eyes but soft visage.

You were a loss for words as he held your hands in his, your heart was already trying to jump out of your chest at what he was doing. You could practically see him clinging onto you, pleading.

"Take it, and if you decided.. to change your mind." he drifts off, and you snarl, whisking your hand away rather harshly.

It triggered a reaction, a pained gasp leaving him as he watched you glare at him with intensifying venom before you spun around and left him there.

The last sight you've had of him before you broke down yourself with the invitation crumpled in your hand, was a devastated Jimin.

The piano medley is already playing in the church, a few ways besides the altar, where he can truly hear the same tune softly bounding in his ears.

The bride—his wife-to-be, is still hiding behind those two doors.

So as the flower girls came walking down the aisle, he took his chance to scout the room with his sharp eyes. There are his friends standing at the sidelines, all wearing tuxedos and bright grins that showed up when his eyes flashed by them.

His family was there, Seolhyun's family was there, but—

Jimin's breath got hitched in the middle of his throat, and he clasped his hands together as his tongue darted outward to lick his lip in anxiousness, beginning to shift from foot to foot.

—There's no sign of her, [Y/n].

The girl he wanted to see at this special day, the girl he deemed his ultimate best friend, and the girl he wanted to apologize so badly to.

Even when she said she wouldn't attend, he still hoped.

The strings of the violin came into the melody, indicating the arrival of the bride. And she did. The enormous double doors opened to give way for the beautiful bride in white to walk in, stunning everyone who stood in the process.

She's beautiful, indeed, with grace as she walked forward.

He felt tears collecting in his eyes, but for not the latter reason.

No.

It was because he had his hopes up.

She promised she would attend his wedding, she promised she would stick by his side no matter what! Even when they had a huge fight that would undoubtedly crack their friendship, she said she's always come back.

Jimin smiles bitterly as Seolhyun approaches the altar, taking her hand in his as they faced the altar.

His last act of reconciling with you, down the drain.

—Why would you do this?

He breathes in and out as the priest began.

—I really.. really hate you, [Y/n]

If you could curse fate for doing this to you—or anything that controls humans' life, you will.

What did you do to gain this consequence? Where have you gone wrong to be able to acquire such punishment?

Maybe because you were too bitter?

Was it because you failed to 'spread your wings' like your mother and father taught you? To enjoy the beauty of life as you grow old, and not for it to revolve around your best friend you believed would stick by your side 'till the end?

Or was it because you did pay too much attention on him, that you didn't succeed on holding on to the new, sweet addition to your life—a lover?

Maybe because you were too selfish?

Ah, you didn't know.

You really didn't know.

You wish you could've at least corrected those, at least. To remove the bad blood you've most likely caused to interfere between your friendship with Jimin, and your love with Jungkook. They were understanding, but then you were probably too self-centered to bother realizing the upcoming, inevitable end held for you.

You could almost hear the inviting echo of the church bells, resounding together with a symphony of euphoria and bliss that awaited the newly weds; your best friend.

As you laid on the white hospital bed awaiting for the end, you could only cast a sorrowful glance on your bedside table. Which has the wedding invitation that was torn in half and a dusty bunny plush toy. Each depicting two major chapters of your life; Jimin and Jungkook. Who both, in the end, left your life -to your will- without knowing the truth to your lifestyle.

You could see the disappointed, possibly angered look on your best friend's face when he noticed that you didn't attend. Wouldn't attend. Couldn't attend.

I'm sorry, Jiminie

You could perfectly imagine the look of heartbreak against your ex-lover's face when he left, you knew he loved you, but he couldn't stay. Because he thought that you were too clingy with your best friend's life, that you had fallen for him. Which is not true.

You simply couldn't balance everything in your plate.

And by the time you were realizing all of it, your life—and everything in it, was already crumbling down.

I'm sorry, Jungkookie

You could only wish that the happiness that they’re pursuing for is granted in the end. It was better that way, your death remaining to yourself without anyone knowing. Your family had gone ahead, Jungkook had left, and Jimin..

Isn’t your best friend anymore.

The mere thought of it was more than enough for your well-hidden tears to resurface, causing you the difficulty to regain an even breathing.

You could remember how Jimin first stared at you with a look of utter disappointment and silent rage as he processed how you said you wouldn’t attend his wedding.

You wouldn’t. Not couldn’t.

And the fact that you would not dare step into a beautiful memory in his life, as he deemed, is unforgivable. He took the invitation from you and clenched it in his fists, muttering how he even tried. He tore it in half, with his eyes teary and knuckles white. He declared, before he went away, that you were no longer his best friend. Or if you ever were one in the beginning. It was his breaking point, and somewhat your achievement. Having him turn his back on you would be easier than letting him see your current state, just like you want Jungkook to do.

.. Ah, Jungkook. Your first, true love that you took seriously, but didn’t expect to end it in such a bad note.

You’ve had it planned, how you’d break up with him, but he had gone first before you can do anything.

You were too engrossed at the fact that Jimin is getting married, and he’s upset with you, to the point wherein you nearly forgot you had Jungkook, a partner you could entrust anything to. But you were too secretive, too mysterious, that even with his burning love for you and you the same, he had to let go.

At the same place, although raining, Jungkook uttered those words you couldn’t forget. You remember how even under the umbrella, the rainfall of tears that left his eyes that meant that it was difficult for him to be with you, broke your heart.

Because you did love him, but that love wasn’t enough.

You couldn’t open up, you were too afraid.

He gave you another chance that rainy evening, asked you what’s wrong, and why you won’t say anything. But you didn’t reply.

And that led to him turning away from you for the final time.

You never saw him again.

Those two boys who played a great role in your story would forever remain in your slumber, as two figments in your memory in the blackness.

As the world around you flashed in and out of your eyes and of your grasp, you knew the sand was falling fast. You had no time left, no time to apologize even if you wanted to. No ‘I’m sorry’ for Jungkook, and no ’Congratulations’ to Jimin.

You were dying, and that was your final call.

But perhaps, in someway or another, you would be able to re-approach them again. May it be a dream, or a hallucination. You’d find your way to them as your last and final thank you, for bearing with you until the end.

That was the dying wish you embraced to your heart to the very finale, as your eyes finally closed, and the sounds of the requiem died down with you.

It had been a tiring day—his wedding day.

Even with all the mishaps and the false hope he was given, it was still a happy event to remember. His dream of being married has been accomplished, and now he's bound to set off into a new chapter of his life.

Then his thoughts lingered to someone.

Someone that brought a frown to his face even when he has his wife curling beside his arm.

He hasn't made up with you, yet.

He thinks why, thinks of all the reason why, but he couldn't.

You didn't show up, and that's it.

There's this bitterness residing in the pits of his chest, unable to accept that you were just able to drop down more than a decade long of friendship, for a silly argument like that.

With a scowl, Jimin shuts his eyes, the exhaustion tolling all over and almost immediately bringing him sleep.

The blackness morphed into something else. In fact, it was a familiar place--it was the venue for his wedding reception. His grand wedding that didn’t seem so grand and regal anymore because there’s a presence lacking.

“Jimin.”

He turns around, and his lips part gently as his eyes settled upon a woman he ended bonds with. Her pretty [c] hair fell and cascaded down her shoulders, her body covered in a pretty, gentle white dress that flew to the back of her knees.

“[Y/n]?” he whispers in bewilderment.

The girl only smiles at him.

Jimin couldn’t believe it, he’s dreaming for sure, his desperate wishes of seeing his (ex) best friend attending his wedding finally giving in to his subconscious and perfectly molding it into a dream.

When he doesn’t reply, still bitter about her not wanting to attend, the [c] haired female steps closer to him.

“I’m really sorry, you know that.”

He looks at her, conflict and confusion swimming in his orbs of charcoal. His arms were crossed as he faced her, his eyebrows furrowing in suspicion.

“Are you? I don’t think so. What kind of friend wouldn’t want to attend their best friend’s wedding?” he scoffs as he asks this, his eyes rolling back and forth.

“A scumbag,” she replies.

He tried to contain the urge to lift his lips upward. Their constant perky conversation already brewing in like it used to before.

Finally, he places his whole attention on her.

“Why didn’t you attend my wedding, [Y/n]? Where did it go wrong? When did we grew so far apart?” Jimin asks, his voice breaking as he once more, attempted to conceal the water behind his eyes. The girl before him is a sore topic, for she already had a place in his heart as a friend he could count anytime, and they just.. parted off like what they blossomed together; their friendship, was nothing.

The girl in front of him stayed silent, her eyes showcasing sadness, yet her lips remained sealed.

Jimin waits for a few more seconds as he searched her features for any signs of an answer, but there was none.

He sighs.

“You’re never going to tell me, are you?”

She shakes her head with a frown.

“I’m sorry, you know I am,” she leans forward and clutches both of his hands in her own. They fit together like a glove, like they were meant to be true best friends who will held joined hands together until the end.

Their bond was still not broken.

Suddenly, a soft ballad played over, surrounding them like water. It was gentle to the ears, and has a timid beat that’s enough for them to pick up on and start swaying.

“I couldn’t dance with you at your wedding, and even if I did, I’m sure as hell others would be questioning why you’re not dancing with the bride.”

To this, Jimin finally laughs, his eye smile not leaving as the two of you danced and swayed to the music. It brought so much nostalgia. Ever since childhood, she was by his side and vice versa, he even attended prom with the girl as his partner. Together they turned down anyone who practically screamed that they should be a couple, no.

They were truly best friends.

He realized that the moment the soft ballad playing was slowly fading out, and the chandelier seemed to grow dimmer, but you appear to glow.

As he stopped dancing, he looked you in the eye, his hands descending to your waist as yours moved to his shoulders. There was so much you knew he wanted to say, wanted to ask, but he silenced that with a hug.

His body was warm as he hugged you tighter.

“I miss you.” he utters.

You could only rest your head upon his chest, mumbling how much you missed him too. But this dream is only temporary, and most likely will never happen again. You know this was the last time you would ever see him.

Still encased in his hug that you would forever miss, he asks.

“Could you be my best friend, again?”

Jimin pulls away as you laugh at him, and he couldn’t stop the smile that reached his ears as your eyes twinkled.

“Of course, I’d always be your best bud.”

He couldn’t explain why your answer seemed heavy in his chest, or how there are tears that seemed to gather in his eyes with your reply. All he knew is that he’s happy, as he embraced you again with a tearful laugh.

Until the blackness comes again to take him back away.

“Forever, Jimin.”

It was early in the morning when the ringing of the phone overlapped his dreamscape. A minute later, Jimin was opening his eyes to the dim lighting of the room, and his phone that kept on vibrating and ringing on his bed side table.

Seolhyun was still sleeping soundly beside him, covers bundled over her bare shoulders.

Not wanting to wake her up, he begrudgingly takes his phone and squints his eyes at the brightness of it.

The caller ID read..

"Jungkook?" he mutters.

How did he even got his number?

Shrugging, he was about to dismiss the call when an urging feeling basically yelled at him to pick the phone.

He hesitates.

But then again, he's never the one to ignore, so he picks it up either way.

"This better be good." he immediately says as soon as he hears Jungkook's heavy breathing.

"You have to come see me right now."

That was it.

Jungkook ended the call before Jimin could even ask why, and when it ended, there was already a message that came from the younger man. An address that read his assumably current location.

Grumbling, Jimin rolls out of bed in order to dress properly. Even if it's just the casual sweatpants and a shirt under a jacket, it'd do good. He slips on his running shoes and exits the house, but not before kissing the cheek of his wife who smiled in her sleep.

With the phone in hand, he trudges the sidewalk, teeth chattering as he internally repeated curses in his head. He turns the corner, looking up at the street sign which is identical to the one in the text, and continues.

There, on a lone bench just in front of a 24 hour fast food chain, is Jungkook. His figure is lurching forward, the black hoodie pulled over to cover his face.

“What is it?” Jimin asks silently as he approached Jungkook, who was seated on a bench, his head down until his voice came cutting through the silence.

The newly wedded man looks flabbergasted upon the sight of Jungkook, whose eyes are red and swollen, looking as if he had cried terribly. Due to his fairly white complexion, he can see how there are dried stains on his cheeks.

“What happened to you?” Jimin asks breathlessly.

The younger man couldn’t decipher why the best friend appeared so casual and normal. Is he aware of what happened, even?

“You.. you didn’t know?” he questions, eyes widening slightly.

Jimin’s heart skips a beat, and almost immediately, his stomach churns.

He has a bad feeling.

When he didn’t reply, Jungkook drags a lazy hand through his black hair, trying his best not to break down yet again as he stated to the unsuspecting man.

“[Y/n].. [Y/n] has died.”

Jimin felt empty.

A blank look in his face, the gears in his mind turning and turning until it locked in place.

Died.

It couldn’t be.

He hears Jungkook shouting his name, and he only realizes by then that he had taken off running. His eyesight cloudy as he panted and ran towards the nearest cemetery he knows is in the neighborhood.

An image of his best friend, laughing with him on the swings took over his mind.

It couldn’t be.

A memory of his best friend patting his back to relieve him of his nightmares overtook his thoughts.

Not [Y/n].

Voices screaming at one another in his head, reminded him of the last and the most heated argument they’ve had.

Their last contact.

He turns left to a corner, and by just a glimpse, he saw Jungkook running after him. His pace was pretty quick.

Please..

He sees the entrance way, the arch that served as the gate of the cemetery, and his heart increased its rate. His running picked up in speed.

Tell me it’s a lie.

“That’s not true. That can’t be true.” Jimin repeats to himself as he turned corners and ran, his feet seeming to know where to lead him. Under a large tree with a clear view of the upcoming sunrise. The first rays of orange, red, and yellow, already slicing through the atmosphere.

And there, he stopped. Upon a tombstone, that had the name of his best friend carved onto the stone.

No.

His breathing became rash, his shoulders jumped, and the tears clouded his sight.

No, no, no.. !

“[Y-Y/n]..” a cry breaks out of his lips that he tried so badly to clamp shut.

His face morphs slowly into a look of denial, and his heart finally snaps apart and shattered asunder.

Jimin falls to his knees, eyes leaking with tears as he envisioned the tombstone as your usual smiling self, bidding him congratulations because his lifelong dream of being wed to the love of his life had finally come into light.

Sobbing, he shakes his head, arms reaching forward to hug the stone.

But it contained no warmth.

He only sobs even more when sudden memories came flooding his mind, no doubt causing more pain than he is in at the moment.

All those times.

All those times of you trying to talk to him, even for just a second of his time you wished to take, he would push you away. Too busy with life.

Too busy with Seolhyun.

“She died at your wedding day.”

Jungkook’s voice comes to life slowly, and that was the sole weapon that pierced his chest. Jimin detaches his arms from the stone and gives a look of vulnerability to him.

She died on his wedding day. The day she told him she 'wouldn’t’ attend.

And it only broke him even more.

Jimin whisks his head back to the tombstone, clutching the grass beneath him as he whimpers along to the sorrow in his chest.

“That’s why you didn’t want to tell m-me.. isn’t it?” he cries, “You didn’t want m-me to know. Because you’re sure I’ll call off the wedding, isn’t it?”

Jungkook looks away, his heart clenching all over again.

He promised not to cry anymore, he promised not to just a while ago.

“She told me once, that she’ll do anything to keep your happiness intact. I.. guess that covered why she didn’t want to tell you. She didn’t want to delay your wedding.”

Jimin couldn’t help but just cry, and cry, and cry. Even though he knew he should stop. Why does it hurt so much? So bad? He couldn’t feel like this, Jungkook is probably hurting even more--he was the lover.

Even so, he didn’t know that there was a possibility that he could feel something so deeper than the word ‘hurt’ can explain. He’s beyond it. Jimin couldn’t accept the fact that he had failed to notice that his best friend was hurting--that she was dying even. And he had the audacity to even push her away even farther.

It sickened him.

“I’m sorry..” Jimin covers his face with his hands, feeling shameful to even kneel before her grave with everything that he had done wrong.

[Y/n] had done everything for him, why couldn’t he have done the same?

He couldn’t even say sorry.

That was the word that circled his conflicted mind as he cried his anguish out to the person that will never return to his side, his sobs followed by another as he kept repeating that mere, one syllable word.

Why.

“I’m sorry, [Y/n], I’m sorry..”

Jungkook merely averts his gaze and tries his best to block his hearing, but it seems impossible. Not when his heart is just as broken--probably even more, than the man on his knees.

The dream that he had, specifically when he had slipped on the ring on your finger and kissed you, claiming that you are his alone, broke him completely.

Knowing that it couldn’t and would never happen because he left you, he was the one who broke up with you. The truth that he could never have you as his bride, shattered him.

And was the final strike for Jungkook, who, as same Jimin, could not grasp why he never noticed. Noticed your frown, your pleading eyes, and frail actions that ultimately gave away your suffering. Your condition. His reason of breaking up appeared solid and stable, you were too mysterious, but his reason isn’t good enough.

You were scared, you were terrified. The courage you had that made you seal your lips in order not to spill, in order for them not to worry about you, until you were alone on your death bed, was exceptional.

He wasn’t even there at your side when you left the world.

He couldn’t kiss you anymore, he wouldn’t be able to see you anymore, nor grasp your fingers and hands in his own.

You could never be his again.

The truth of it all made Jungkook weep silently, his tears betraying his promise as the image of you in a wedding dress burnt itself into ashes.

He was too late.

He couldn’t even tell you how much he loves you.

Jimin slams his fist on the wall, crying loudly as he pounds his back hardly against it, only to slide down to the floor in despair with a loud, desperate cry.

After his mutual exchange of tears with Jungkook at the cemetery, he had ran over to the house you were living at. Surprised at the fact that it still belonged to you, and came to the conclusion that your parents wanted to keep it as a complete memory of their beloved daughter.

His eyes searched your room, clean and neat, as you would leave it.

Only, you were in it no longer.

One look in your room and he had begun crying all over again, bringing his knees to his chest as he sobbed your name out loud.

“C-come back.. !” he traces your cheek in the photo, having taken it out of the frame, only for his tears to rain down upon it.

His grip on it trembled as did his lips, whimper leaving after whimper.

“I’m sorry, [Y/n]—I’m so sorry, please!” he started hugging it to his chest, desperately imagining it was you in his arms. Be it when you’re alive, or even when you just died, he didn’t care.

He just wanted to hold you.

Jimin’s stature shook as he cried, so terribly filled with anguish he didn’t know what to do anymore but to cry for you to come back.

“Jiminie,”

The ghost of a gasp leaves his lips as his head whisks upward to the voice.

Your voice.

There you were, sitting atop your bed as usual, eyes glossing over his in concern.

"What's wrong? Nightmares gotcha?" he resisted the urge to bawl right there, hearing you ask him if he’s okay, if he needs anything, it broke him apart.

He shook his head, eyes brimming with the residue of his tears.

"You died. I couldn’t get to you because I didn’t know a-and—"

You were silent.

“.. And now I’ll be alone.” Jimin’s voice cracks.

I don’t want that.

“You know I'm with you through all of this, right? I’ll be here,”

He shakes his head, still crying, because he knows.

I don’t want to be alone—don’t leave me alone.

He knows this was only his mind playing tricks on him. But even still, he clung onto this delusion, because he isn’t—and will never be ready to let you go.

“I love you, Jiminie. I hope you remember that.”

How long has it been.. when was the last time you expressed your love for him as his best friend?

I can’t do this without you.

His heart twists, and his grip on the photo hardens considerably.

He glances back at you.

“I—..”

But you were gone.

Why did you have to leave me?

Jimin’s heart falls apart.

The pain and the agony entered once more as his gaze descends to your smiling face on the photo, his thumb going across your cheeks.

He would never be able to hug you ever again.

He wouldn’t have someone to turn to when he’s at his lowest point, anymore.

Jimin’s tears landed once more, a soft, broken cry leaving him as he held the photo close to his chest.

“.. I love you too, [Y/nie].”

Masterlist

Oh well ._. Sorry for the long wait!

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