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minsuxga · 7 years

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Anagapesis

(n.) No longer feeling any affection for someone you once loved; falling out of love.

Inspired by the quote: “How selfhood begins with the walking away and love is proved in the letting go.”

Summary: Falling in love with Yoongi was easy. Watching him fall out of love with you was hard and there was only little you could do but hope that he found his way home after long nights of being away.

Genre: !Yoongi! + angst + fluff (i swear there’s a happy ending)

Word count: 12.7k

A/N : Initially, I was really hesitant about posting this. Most of the story really taps into raw emotions and personal experience and if im honest, I put my soul into writing this. I really hope you guys like it. I’ve spent ages on this and i’m so sorry about my semi-hiatus turned hiatus but im back! Please, please, tell me how you guys feel about it! criticisms and comments are v much appreciated.

You don’t realise.

Maybe you do. Yet, only fail to accept the gnawing pang in your heart that screams to be acknowledged; tucked down every time you force to assure yourself more often than not these days that he loves you, he had to love you – right?

You say you don’t realise but you do, you definitely do, when the morning rays hit the bedsheets and a soft warm glow fills the room and your heart still stings like something akin to how an ice burn would.

You notice with a miserable ache that the bed feels as cold to touch as his skin and the icy miles you’ve put between yourselves is unbearable but neither of you stretches arms to each other to break the iceberg in the middle that hovers in the air in all its apparency.

An iceberg like a constant reminder that there was something obviously wrong in this relationship. Something that neither of you would yield to yet lying to yourselves to say you didn’t notice, fearful of the prospect of what happened when you did.

And his skin, God, his skin was smooth like untouched snow and the warming sunrise hues melted his ivory skin that stained the sheets like ichor into puddles of perfection.

And he looked like a porcelain doll and you could count numbers like the strands of his dark hair sprawled like a fan on the pillows of reasons listing why you loved him, why you’d fallen in love with this man who’d given you nothing more than the infinity and murmured soft kisses into your neck under the witness of the stars and the watchful moon.

The man who had caressed your skin under the soft moonlight, under the gaze of Artemis and the reigns of her night sky that he’d be with you till the ends of the world and beyond.

Loving him was supposed to be infinite. Yet the assurance of infinity was fragile and fell from the safety of your fingers like glass. A clumsy mistake. A hopeless desperation. Shards too sharp and painful to touch and only a longing stare to redo the past differently in its wake.

And here, laying together but not fully together you realised with a daunting recognition that this infinity that you’d proclaimed with naïve hopes and dreams was finite and finishing.

The seeds of a blooming relationship that you had once possessed had seeped into the earth. A connection that had seemed as impossible to break and decipher as the roots of noble trees, giant in age and true in their confidentiality was only the waterlogged earth gulping for breath at your feet.

And as much as you had hoped that your connection would remain as vibrant and prosperous like the first time it had taken to flourish, it was feeble against the change of seasons where flourished flowers kneeled before time and were helpless into becoming decaying ones.

You chastised yourself at the same clueless optimism that you had used to believe that this intimacy, this tenderness that was supposed to be stronger than its fragile appearance would breed life into the darkness of the earth and turn greyish leaves into burning red ones.

Golden speckled like embers and suffer forged and furious, resembling the autumn months did you believe that your love willed anger into a drive for its survival.

You were blind-eyed and walking in a fantasy that was as childlike as your want for the past.

In reality, love was weak and resembled more like the sand that slipped between your fingertips and seemed too far spread to collect, to piece back together like the small world you’d held in the palm of your hands for so long – till now.

For now you could only hang onto each of his words because your relationship to you was like a story. You’d come to the last few sentences and your heart tugged at the thought that you’d one day have to place your eyes on a final single word and a full stop to end whatever this was and close the book despite your stubbornness to stare at it forever.

And you stared at his back as the morning hues took a dullish turn and your monochrome bedroom resembled the dark turn of your life and the never-ending routine you would have to subject yourself to once more – one more day again and again till months passed and one more day was only a reminder that it would eventually only be one more day.

Laying here in the early break of dawn, his body tired out from the hours spent at the studio, you continued to stare at his back, vast as the oceans between you and thought about how he seemed too far away on the bed to be even considered to be sleeping with you.

Staring at his back, as cold and distant to you as the frosty evenings and conversations, you yearned for the memories where he’d turn around, like a sixth sense tingling in his sleep as if he’d known that you were staring and grumble to ask why you were awake and cross the mountains of pillows to pull you under his chin and drowsily tell you to go to sleep.

However, this time like most days, you were met with a still silence and an acknowledgment that those were memories – and memories were things of the past.

So here in your present, Yoongi the best present life had given you, you crossed the mountains of pillows today instead, a bold move and an even more labouring task that caused a quickening of your breath and a rapid thud at your heart against your ribs and you pulled yourself to rest your head in the nook of his spine knowing that he wouldn’t move and in the next hours you’d find yourself miles apart again and tried to assure yourself that nothing was wrong and that everything was okay like it had always been and this time you tried to pretend like he was telling you to go to sleep like he always did.

And you just wanted to sleep not to take solace in slumber but simply because you wanted to live in the land of dreams and fairy tales because you were simply too afraid to wake up and try your hand at another day of avoiding the problems that were becoming far too apparent to be ignored. You were too afraid to come to the terms with the fact that nothing was okay-

That nothing had been okay between you two in a very long time.

And in this present, lying next to him, you only sought to find sleep in the comfort of your lies and pretence and could only hope that you would wake up the day you didn’t need to anymore.

When you met him, he was a man that lacked in words.

Yet, his unwillingness to talk to you was enough to get you intrigued, entranced by the old soulful eyes that took you on journeys and held enough conversations that let you pry into the intimates of his life even without him opening his mouth.

And you travelled his little world in the few seconds you glanced into his brown eyes and you were left with a thirst, a desperation, a want needed to be quenched to see more, to know more.

And his silence and his stubbornness to take a foot forward towards you was the lack of a welcoming hand despite your persisting attempts to be patient and determined even when he wasn’t.

At first, he tried his very best to wave off your irritating attempts in getting to know him, tried to stop you from pursuing your efforts of reading into his story, prying open every cobwebbed page rotting away with years of feelings untouched and forgotten, suppressed into little lines and far too great a book.

You, however, were vibrant as the world that existed around him, a world that had lost his touch and seemed far too distant and tasteless.

And the world, this world he’d once wanted nothing more to do with was grey and monochrome yet your smile breathed light and colour into the ends of the earth that made him want to explore it again to see just what it was that could make you shine so brilliantly- god, he wanted to see it too.

You were bright, you were warm and homey and everything he needed to feel at home again. You were everything he wasn’t and so you moulded into the figures and curves of his body with perfection and your smile and your giddy laughter was contagious and he understood.

God, standing with you he understood that there were somethings in life that could make you too happy to explain.

He understood only by kissing you, on the same lips you used to smile as if the earth was star speckled and coated in fairy dust and magic- that this was what made you shine so brilliantly.

And he understood and more often than not, he’d find himself forgetting who he was, who he was supposed to be and letting himself delve into the little wonders of life that were you.

Together, you bred life into his little storybook. You named every character and held his hand and went over the fading ink so that it was new again and where once even smiling your way and any sort of contact or brief communication was something far too great a distance for him to fathom – he’d found himself miles away from where he’d started, travelled the distance and voyaged every corner of the world by the end of every sitting with you – creeping closer and closer to a territory that Yoongi would have easily expanded on the same earth he’d once found tiresome to share with you.

When in love, what time was there to think about technicalities?

With Yoongi, there was a lot of things you’d found yourself having to become accustomed to.

You’d found yourself accustomed to the door and every one of its dents. You had stared at every stain with a straining sigh and a soft shake of your head.

You’d found yourself noticing the way the hinges had started to come of the door handle, time worn on the metal as a reminder that you’d been doing this for too long- waiting into the dead of the night for him to enter the door despite your knowing that this was another one of those days where he’d lay his head down and find sleep in the discomfort of his studio chair.

You’d found yourself accustomed to the repetitive routine of repeated events, accustomed to staring at the steam blow off the hot plated dinner into the vacancy of the room to keep you company before the stumbling footsteps at the door once you’d thrown most of it into the trash.

You’d become accustomed to the apologies murmured into the crook of your neck and the arms tight around your waist to yield your disappointment into understanding and you had become old and aged at the empty promises he’d leave on your skin and down your body of a fancy dinner the next night.

It's the same cold, cold night where he’d leave you dressed only to cancel, leaving your hopes and dreams at the foot of the doorstep, not so brave to leave the home and unwavering against the apology texts and more promises of next time that have snaked into an anxiety that pleads him not to because you’re sick of hoping to be anything but disappointed.

You had become accustomed to shaking your head and assuring yourself that his lack of time for you was okay because his work was unpredictable in the way that his actions weren’t.

But you are accustomed to it- you’re used to it. You’ve adapted and learned to change your ways to fit around your emotions because that’s what you’ve been born to do. Born to change and adapt and survive. You’ll make it survive.

So it doesn’t bother you. Despite the fact that everything in your heart yells at you in foolery, in a desperation to be acknowledged that it most certainly does.

And the days move on and dates on the calendar continue unstopping until the summer months welcome the winter ones until they yield their great leaves in surrender, bow their fiery colours for cold ones and take arms to a change inevitable and happening.

You watch the world embrace the frost and the edge of a softening glaze of white and silver and you listen as the sounds of happy summer children turn into carols that light up the sky in a brilliance that is as bright as the fairy lights that follow it.

You remain in your still world, watching the world change, adapt, repeat its cycle from the moment you feel the glaring heat on your flesh. Sweat wet against your skin changing to the soft snow beneath your fingertips, white as far as you could see and resembling the uncertainty of your future, bleaching your relationship in a single colour that made you nostalgic for the colours it couldn’t fathom any more.

And days turn into months and the world doesn’t stop for you despite your longing for it to wait- in a hope that one day you’ll catch up, stop stumbling like a shadow behind it and grip onto anything despite your dizzying fatigue because you simply couldn’t. You couldn’t adapt. You couldn’t change.

You couldn’t yield to a normality with Yoongi that was simply too bleak and dull in comparison once he’d shown you all the colours in the world.

How could you get used to the simplicity of a single thing when you’d felt it all?

It’s a familiar darkening night, the only difference being the change in the moon and the position of the blinking stars that watched on the repetition of the world under it.

The same darkening night, one that’s ripped away the warmth and sea of pinks and red and gold, distinguished the inferno that spread across the horizons and set the world ablaze into an emptiness, a dark aftermath that was nothing less of a still silence that rocked the earth.

And the stars, the stars were the only evidence that it had ever happened. Resting above heads and easily overlooked, the stars were the witness, the fall-out of the flames, now scattered like soft embers into the stillness of the onyx sky.

And it’s during these very nights that you begin to notice the way his apologies slowly start to disappear, how they meld into a mutual acceptance of how certain things will be in a fixture too permanent for either of you to change.

You begin to notice how his kisses have faded into mere imprints, sunk deep into the skin for you to rack your brain in remembrance of what they felt like when they were still fresh on the surface. You notice the lack of limbs around your body, his body etching further and further away on the bed until you’ve settled into a distance that you fear to cross.

You notice the vacancy of his voice in the room- how even in the morning with the vibrant sun, the house makes you shiver in something other than just the cold, lacking in his warming laugh and your giddy happiness, of days where you’d move across the kitchen in a choreography only the two of you could dance in.

Now, you feel like a phantom in your own home, gliding with a heavy heart as if searching the place in a desperation for memories. And Yoongi, Yoongi couldn’t even be called a ghost. His presence so void from the home that he was anything but the occupant that haunted it.

It’s one of those nights, emotions of something akin to loss mingling with the emptiness of the home and it’s suffocating silence, you continue to the stare at the door with the same naïve hope and foolish optimism that he’d be back soon- that he’d take his seat in the chair that almost stared back at you with a pity you couldn’t help but wallow in.

And the silence that followed you as you sighed, the screeching of your chair being the only sound to accompany you as you discarded the remains of your dinner reminded you of the things you’d long noticed and long since avoided, remaining mum about the paranoia’s that had settled in your chest and had crept into the little crevices of your body.

And you continued to think, grabbing a blanket from your room and treading back towards the couch to lower yourself, pulling the soft fabric under your chest as if to cocoon you, to fight away the stupid, stupid feelings of loss- what were you loosing? And still staring at the door in a sadness that wasn’t necessarily directed at anything but the goddamn door.

Time seemed to tick on and fatigue had long since settled into your temples and you fought to keep your eyes open, shaking off the way they draped over your eyes in a darkness you could lull yourself to sleep to but there was a yearning, a need for him to prove himself different today, to be awake when he did.

But the time didn’t slow and the creeping anxiety finding comfort inside you was enough to tell you that some things were bound to break no matter how hard you tried to preserve it.

And it was almost two and your back hurt from finding solace in the couch, tucking yourself into the plush material in the hopes that you could close your eyes and find the same magic, the same comfort that it used to.

You were desperate for some sort of normality, for it to just go back to the way it used to be but this house was full of memories and the man who lived in it a mere stranger.

And it hurt, broke your heart to think that the promises of the world and forever, of an endless love and an unconditional fairy tale was nothing more than a storybook, a fiction and a tale that would never be.

When had the title to claim the love of your life simply become a title with no claim? And you wondered, pondered under the night sky and the blinking stars in the hopes that it would qualm your distress.

In the hopes that it would offer you advice for the man that jumped at the opportunity to travel to the ends of the world and beyond for you- had beyond become too tiresome for him to continue?

And it was on the couch when you heard the keys click and the door creak open, heard him sigh and kick off his shoes and you only listened as he pattered through the home, his eyes merely resting on yours before passing you without even the word of acknowledgement, no reprimanding that you shouldn’t stay awake, no kiss on the forehead, no promise, nothing- nothing but the stillness and suffocation of a silence that said more than the words he lacked in wording to you.

You waited, waiting long before he’d retreated back into your bedroom without you till you broke down, till you made memories of a teary night on the couch that once held a history of a love story for the ages.

And you sobbed into the night, the twinkling stars staring at you with sympathy you didn’t want and you heaved, weeping sorrowfully because Min Yoongi was too far now and things weren’t the same.

You cried because he was your best friend, the person you confided in. Yet in your difficulties today, you were no one to him to weep your worries to.

And you cried, cried till your eyes were heavy with tears and sleep and everything in between and your woes fell deaf to his ears because behind closed doors, Yoongi slept and found solace in the world without you.

You weren’t losing Yoongi. How could you lose something you’d already lost? How could you preserve something that had long since been broken?

In time, you’d simply force yourself to adapt to the constant changes that were Yoongi and his attitude towards you. You’d stopped questioning the way things were and why there were and simply accepted the reality that things weren’t the same and ultimately, would never be again.

The emotion you’d tried so hard to suppress, the growing fear that you’d tried to stifle, tried breaking apart was resurfacing. In the end, behind closed doors and hidden frowns there was the undeniable reality that had you shaking your head, spending moments in front of the mirror to deny in order to drown down your anxiety.

There was the simplicity of a few words that weighed down your heart like the many- a few words that you’d forced yourself to look away from but there was no denying the undeniable, a reality so very real and despite it being deep as the bergs that bred in secrecy- it was like the smoke of a fire you couldn’t hide- one you couldn’t run from.

A simple truth, an inevitable happening: he had fallen out of love with you.

In the end, the truth congregated- gathered like clouds and came for you on dark nights and even darker days. Even the sunshine couldn’t act as a veneer anymore to the change that was inevitable like the sun setting above the horizons and the night appearing, night after night without fail.

You could regret, regret the days you’d taken with him for granted or regret the way things had become. You could long all you wanted for a world painted in colours once you couldn’t fathom them anymore.

Despite the world seemingly mostly black and white these days, your relationship with Yoongi unspoken and dulled down- there was a regret that burned deep inside you, clenched within your core because outside your dreary days is a world that moves spontaneously.

It pains you, to watch Yoongi belong to that world of colours and ignore that everything wasn’t okay. It pains you after seeing, after feeling all those colours, to be told to settle for shades of grey.

And when you wake up in the morning you aren’t surprised that the bed is completely cold and you don’t need to turn away from the ceiling to know that Yoongi’s already left and there’s not a single memo that could have reminded you that he was ever here to begin with.

Achingly, you force yourself up, running your hands over your face and sighing into the emptiness of the room before removing the covers off your body and readying yourself for another day filled with mundane tasks in a silent home filled with your conundrum of thoughts.

You almost dread how you’ve been given the day off work, a soft pat on the back from your boss who claimed you’d been overworking yourself and should take the day off.

However, looking around the house you wish almost longingly that you were back in the security of your workplace, distracting yourself amongst the papers and co-workers. Anything but here. Anywhere but the place that day by day felt less and less like home.

You sighed into your coffee mug, staring into the same kitchen that would be bumbling with noise had it been a few months back; Yoongi making his way over to peck your forehead, your temple, anything, everything, on the days he’d lie in and take comfort in the curves of your body instead but it’d been months and his habits had faded away and you felt stupid standing there making food for two because yours hadn’t yet.

“I should take him some.” You say to yourself, your fingers fumbling around the containers as you try to reassure yourself that this way okay, that you always used to bring him food and surprise him at the studio because he loved it. Why would it be any different now? “He probably hasn’t eaten.”

And despite having everything changed, if there was one thing about Yoongi and his personality was his forgetfulness and how caught up he’d get in his work to forget the simple necessities he needed like eating.

Any other day you might have texted him but this wasn’t like any other days and your phone was as void as ever in a silence he seemed adamant to maintain.

You were aware that you were talking to yourself, almost chanting the words as if they would ease the fear of doing this trivial gesture that should feel like nothing to you but do. You hoped that this, this could be taking the first steps to at least try and salvage the bits of your relationship while you could. You hoped maybe this would be the start of a new beginning, maybe he’d come back to you. Maybe.

And you don’t know what possesses you, what takes over you but your standing in front of his studio with a bag filled with all his favourite foods.

You can’t help but feel childish, like this wasn’t something you should be doing but here you were, a foot away from his studio door with an irrational fear of what would happen when you entered.

You almost felt like you were suffocating. Here, entering a room with a man that was practically a stranger to you now with an emotion that felt too much like the end. In hindsight, you could have said you’d known, that you’d felt it coming and maybe it was for the best but in that very moment, after months of uncertainty, you were firm in believing that today would be different.

After all, something had to break to allow change; whether that be you or your relationship.

With a heavy heart and a shuddering sigh, you closed your eyes and reached to turn the handle to the door that you knew all too well, spending far too many nights crashed on the couch when Yoongi overworked into the night or listening to the unfinished music fill the room- basking in the security that was simply your boyfriend.

This time, the door creaked and groaned under your touch and the magic that you’d always felt in this room that was all too Yoongi were lost and you stared at his back, you were always staring at his back, watching him get further and further away from you.

His face was scrunched up in the way you knew was utter concentration, his headphones around his neck and staring into his lyrics completely and utterly oblivious to the world around him.

Suddenly, you weren’t so sure of yourself anymore and the confidence you had to salvage the remnants of a dying relationship had withered away.

It struck you just how much you didn’t belong in this world, how much he’d pushed you away and just how much distance had grown between you that the few feet that separated the two of you now couldn’t compare in comparison.

The studio had been a place that you had associated with fond memories, yet standing in the middle of it all with not so fond feelings stirring inside your belly made you realise the sheer emptiness of it all; that everything was simply a reminder and there was nothing you could do that would change that.

You felt like you were staring at a picture.

You could remember every feeling, every laughter that you’d felt captured into a single moment adorned with great smiles and even greater emotions but standing here in the aftermath of memories cemented how you couldn’t recreate pictures.

No matter how long you stared at it, it was just a remnant of a single past moment amongst the countless of many futures.

You coughed. He turned. And you watched his brow furrow, staring at your figure in confusion as if he couldn’t comprehend why you were here.

“What are you doing here?” and his voice is void of its usual pleasant surprise and it cements just how much has changed between you and though you expected every bit of it, it doesn’t stop your heart from dropping. He sounded exasperated, tired.

He’s tired of you, a little voice in your head said and you couldn’t lie and say you didn’t know but unlike Yoongi, you weren’t tired of him and this was your last attempt, your little act of selfishness- holding onto him because you wanted to slow down the moment you had to let go.

“I brought food.” You said softly, stating the obvious and pulling up the contents in your hand to show him the bag filled with all the delicious meals that only makes your stomach churn but your particular response isn’t the answer to the question he’s looking for.

Here, staring back at a stranger it’s obvious that you don’t know this man and his brown orbs scream nothing but unfamiliarity to you now- he was asking why you were here. His real question left unasked in the air but one you could read with ease. Why were you still trying?

“Oh,” Yoongi says and he’s looking anywhere but at you when you leave it on his side. “Thanks.”

Was that it? Was he supposed to say something? Were you? But you know it’s your cue to leave when he doesn’t say anything else, when he doesn’t acknowledge you and doesn’t ask you to stay but instead moves to put his headphones back on.

You wonder then, just when did your relationship result in this? Just when did his warm affections become nothing more than cold glances and you can’t help but stare at him with a longing in your chest, a desire to stomp on all the floors and pull a tantrum because you just want to go back, you just want him to love.

You wanted him to look at you, come back with the same vibrant smile you were used to.

You wanted him to love you but fuck, did he even know what loving you was when you were sure he’d fallen out of it?

You stared at his back. You hated staring at his back.

You hated how closed off he’d become, how your attempts at trying to rekindle your relationship bounced off the same goddamn back. You didn’t even realise you were crying, hot tears forging paths down your warm cheeks. Ironic because he’d done nothing but make you feel cold all these months.

And from the way his body stiffens when a sob breaks from your chest and fills the room, from the way he stops himself from looking at you, a deep sigh resounding against your harsh breaths as if he knew it was coming, you know he’s heard.

“Look at me.” You sob angrily, a fierce fire bubbling in your stomach because enough was enough. Because you couldn’t keep pretending, couldn’t keep ignoring.

You couldn’t do this to yourself. You couldn’t continue to live unhappily because you were trying to save something that didn’t want to be saved. “Just this once, look at me.”

And he does and there’s enough emotion in Yoongi’s own eyes for you to know that this is it, that there was no going back from this.

It almost surprises you though, when you see a deep sadness coat over his orbs, a pain present and upfront and inevitable. Even if he didn’t love you now, he had once and letting you go meant letting go of all your memories; of all the things he’d fallen for and all the things he’d adored.

Letting you go was like burning a photobook of a life he’d long since outlived and grown out of. The only reason he’d kept on so long was because of the little attachment he had left, because you had been there when the days and years moved on and when the summer months welcomed the winter ones.

You were there on the same nights, listening with him when the sounds of happy summer children turned into carols that lit up the sky in a brilliance that was as bright as the fairy lights that followed it. You were there, with him, under the same sky that had witnessed it all. The same sky that could retell your history like the stars it had unfolded beneath.

Letting you go was like burning a photobook of a life he’d long since outlived and grown out of but him damned, he didn’t want to let you go because he was scared to make a new one.

“I’m so sick of this.” You cried, gesturing to the space between you and him. “Who are we fooling? Ourselves?”

And you didn’t need an answer and Yoongi only soaked in your appearance, tear-stricken and racking horribly. Your big sparkling eyes had been dulled down with the tears he had caused you, a fire dancing across the softs of your cheeks in a way he knew was only anger, disappointment.

And he hated it. He wished he could take you in his arms and mumble away your woes but he didn’t love you in the way he had and he felt so guilty for falling out of love with someone who’d taught him what love was.

He hated how he was the one who had been the one to suffocate your relationship even after multiple tries when you were the one that had breathed life into his mundane world.

“We don’t even look at each other anymore.” You whispered and he hated how fragile you looked, how the strongest woman he knew crumbled in a state that was as sad as this. And you hated it yourself, hated yourself for succumbing to this. “I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep pretending that everything’s okay when we both know it isn’t. It’s just not fair.”

“If I went wrong, if something happened, just tell me. Just tell me how we can fix this” You sobbed desperately and this was it, this was the last and you knew all too well that you couldn’t fix anything and there was nothing you’d done wrong.

Now, here, in that moment, you drank Yoongi in like it was the last time you’d ever be intoxicated.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, because he was sorry and he’d forever be sorry and there was nothing he could do now. Even then he could hardly get himself to look at you.

Despite anticipating his words with every ounce of salt in your body, every hope crushed the moment you’d first walked in through door, it did nothing to ease your pounding heart and you couldn’t stop it when your lip quivered and you had to just stand there embracing yourself when the onslaught of tears came flooding in.

You didn’t know how long you had stood there but it was enough time for you to realise that there was nothing more either of you could say now.

After months of beating around the bush, you’d finally addressed the elephant in the room, finally cut through the tension that had built up in your home and scouted the replies to questions you already knew the answers to.

You and Yoongi were breaking up. After years together, you’d continue apart like individual people on individual paths.

“I’m sorry too,” You said once you’d composed yourself. You were sorry because you hadn’t tried hard enough or maybe because you had longed this out for far too long. You were sorry because you couldn’t keep all the promises you made to him, that he couldn’t keep his.

Sorry because after months of silence where you’d spent endless nights going over what you’d say to him and then finally arriving here- you’d said nothing. Because there was nothing.

Because more was said in the unsaid.

Because he didn’t have to say any more for you to know because you couldn’t scream and cry when it’d been coming and it was more of a matter of when you ended it than how you’d amend it.

You don’t linger much after that, stay only a few more moments to soak in his milky skin, his pretty brown eyes that searched anywhere but yours, his dark hair before turning to walk out of the door with a greater purpose than when you had entered it.

You’d missed the way Yoongi opened his mouth to say something, how his stomach churned at the sight of your food and despite having turned back to his music, there was nothing he could focus on more than you.

He should have been happy. He should have been relieved but his heart feels heavier than ever and he regretted that he couldn’t stare at you enough, his first love, before you disappeared in an air colder than the one he’d given you.

He was a coward but he regrets how he can’t even cower in his emotions before you. A woman made of fire and ice and everything in between.

It doesn’t take you long to gather your stuff.

It doesn’t take you long to collect all the pieces in your- his home. Bundling up all the things that were you and yours before leaving the house in a manner that resembled the state before you’d met him, back when your shirts hadn’t started appearing in his drawers, when your toothbrush wasn’t placed next to his and back when the webs of his life weren’t entwined with yours.

And you can’t help but stare at this sad, sad place that you’d once called home; can’t help but trace over the furniture that had kept you company in months of solitude, accompanied you through bursts of tears and anger and though they might not remember it now, even times of great love and adoration that had once brightened your world in a comparison that could make even the sun yield.

You were quick on your feet, gathering with haste and dread and everything falls apart in your arms but you’re adamant on holding yourself together while you can, stubborn in forcing yourself to be level-headed because you didn’t want to be here when Yoongi got here.

His studio had been your last goodbye and there was no time for treacly sentiments if he came back and encountered you. Knowing him, he’d probably spend the night there anyway, his practice in avoiding you almost an art now. There would be no mistakes, no sentiments.

No weeping would change facts and your feelings despite heavy on your chest and though it felt like the world was falling apart, they were small, insignificant; minuscule against the vastness of the universe that you were nothing against.

Your existence was a speck of dust, your feelings yours and yours alone- one you couldn’t share, one you couldn’t voice.

A pain that was so very individual, so very yours that in the haste to grip onto your things, you’d dropped the strength that had held onto your emotions, unchained them, released an intensity that was wild, untameable.

The realisation of just how alone you were hit you so intensely that you could feel it burn in your core, a desire to rip out your insides and plead them to obey, to reason, please.

But feelings were wild, untameable and they were products of the heart and no matter how many times your mind concluded logically that this would pass, all things do, your heart felt like it was in pieces within your chest and God, you would do anything to make yourself feel whole again.

They’d never told you that love could hurt so hard, that the aftermath of love was just as intense as falling.

No one, no one could teach you heartbreak in the way you’d learn from experience. No one could teach you the magic of falling in love, the vulnerability, the passion, the intensity that could rival a flame and was as magical as the Garden of Eden, with every emotion as vast as the number of flowers that were adorned in it.

No one could teach you loneliness until the veneer that had shrouded your sorrows in a pink cloud of love had washed away in wisps of grey that magic was fleeting and love was as deceiving as the thorns that tempted naïve seekers. An attempt to grasp beauty, a futile venture to seek Eudaimonia.

The aftermath of love was one that was as bitter as it was sweet and the remnants made you feel empty, hollow and as vacant as the world you surrounded yourself in; especially when you hadn’t come out of love and only witnessed the dark truth and a cruelty of what happened when someone else did.

You were falling apart.

Your breath ragged and harsh and this house screamed finality. Vacant-looking and cold.

This would be the last time you stepped foot into this house, the last time you breathed into it, bred life into it and you didn’t know if the attachment was to the love couch in the middle of the room or the love you’d made on that couch that made you less wanting to let it go, to leave.

You were severing ties with things you’d familiarised yourself with, severing ties with years, severing ties with attachment- severing ties with Yoongi.

It would be the last time you would see Yoongi.

You wondered where love went when it died and almost laughed at yourself, a bubble of lacking laughter flittering in your chest because you were going to the same graveyard to be tucked in the very same coffin.

Who cared where love went when it died? Wherever it went, you were going too.

You couldn’t say that you were happy.

What was happiness if not momentary? But in hindsight, it was easy to see that the choice that he made, the choice that you made was something that allowed you to be happier.

It was a privilege, a liberty that was allowed to you after suffering for so long. It was an emotion so foreign, so invasive that you didn’t know when enough time had passed that you’d allowed it to crawl, travelling through blind spots and breaching apparent sight into the cracks that needed filling.

In time, you’d learn that memories made after him were memories as precious as they were with him and you didn’t need to feel guilty, gnawing on days that maybe, maybe, somewhere he’d made a mistake he’d come running to amend.

Gone were the days were you wallowed in self-pity, in self-hatred and clung onto your insecurities with the idea that they were the only things you were allowed to keep.

Now, your chest felt lighter, breathing was easy and the concept of feeling better after time had done its work on you, after hours turned into days and days into months into years- that this emotion wasn’t a foe but a friend come after long nights was a concept befriended.

Your try at being somewhat happy was overdue and though brief as all moments are, it was something that made you think that maybe the wait was worth it.

It wasn’t as if breaking up with him had meant a break up with love either. His absence didn’t scare you from the emotion and neither did its scars frighten you from approaching it time and time again.

You knew love in more forms than he had given to you and you didn’t need his to know, didn’t need his love in a dependency that was unhealthy and poisoning to know that even in the absence of receiving, you could give in abundance.

You gave it in the affection you had for your parents. You felt it in the adoration you had for the sky, the ground, your home and your cat and your work.

You knew love in the smiles of grinning faces, you knew love in the air around you and in the breaths you took throughout the day- platonic, materialistic, familial- you knew love because you’d been around it. It was a shame then that he simply hadn’t been in it with you.

It had been two years since you’d broken up with Yoongi.

Two years since you’d stormed out the home that the two of you had shared and found solace at your best friend’s house, sobbing well into her shoulder and allowing her to hold you, being the little stability that you needed, a pillar on whom you could rely on when your walls fell.

Two years since you’d asked her to pick up the last of your things, instructing her to leave the keys on the kitchen counter when she did and then residing with her until you could find your own place, gradually filling up the vacancy of your new apartment with things that were you and you alone.

Two years since you’d quit your job, tired of the mundane tasks, of the repetitive nature of days crouched over the computer, nodding insincerely at scoldings only to repeat the same things months on end in the room that resembled a prison cell.

Sick of routine, you take up spontaneity.

Grinning when you capture pictures that reflect the freedom in nature, stories behind old eyes and beaming smiles. Days are spent travelling, from wedding to wedding, tomorrow the lake, the day after the sea.

You voyaged from people to people, capturing the essence of one’s world into another’s.

You weren’t happy, who really was? But your life was happier and the air around you was softer, the colours in your home bright as if to aluminate the days you stay in bed, staring hours on end at the ceiling unable to find your path and lost as to where to go.

Two years since you’d pieced your world back together, gluing edge to edge with nothing but time on your hands and as if to apologise for your sorrows, the world was patient and allowed you to steady yourself again, allowed you the years, allowed you to grow and gain and change and learn.

You learned.

You learned with time that you were better than what you had accustomed yourself to, better than the long nights and dark days and better than what you’d been given and so you were allowed to go and demand more.

Two years was a long time and in that time, though you hadn’t forgotten Yoongi’s face or his solemn touch and his gummy smile, you’d learned that you were simply better without it.

You hadn’t had any awkward encounters and you avoid all the places you visited together, avoided the area around your old home and not once did he reach out and not once did you but the fondness in your heart was still present and despite everything, you couldn’t help but think that he still had always been the best for you.

Your first in many things and last in others, with Yoongi moments were countless but it had been two years and your heart didn’t ache at his name.

Your eyes could wash over his pictures in fondness over spite and despite it being two years and despite you having made your peace with your breakup, you couldn’t squash down the little bittersweet nostalgia and the acknowledgement that no matter how many dates you went on, how many people you met, there was a part of you that only ever wanted to love him.

A part of you that only ever wanted to be loved by him.

And here you were, years later, the woman you had always aspired to be. A woman that knew no chains and felt emancipation like the wind between the locks of your hair.

Frenzied, ungovernable and every bit free, you were achieving the world, beyond the promises he couldn’t keep to you. A woman who amounted to nothing less than the universe with a presence that demanded attention yet there was the void somewhere in your chest that you had suppressed over the years that demanded greater caring, a filling that was Yoongi shaped and unforgiving.

You could pretend that you’d moved on completely, could pretend that his name didn’t make your heart sigh in contempt, lost in worlds of what ifs and what could have been.

You could pretend that even years down the line he had no effect on you, pretend that silent moments sat on the sofa watching reruns of your favourite show didn’t sometimes lead to moments with him.

You could pretend that you didn’t still call into your apartment to inform whoever you were home despite there being no one there, pretend that buildings like the dingy café around the corner where’d you first met didn’t remind you of him.

You could pretend a lot of things but you’d be a fool to think that you were anything more than an actor. Actors pretended and what you felt didn’t feel like pretence.

You weren’t holding onto fragments, weren’t cradling them to your chest in an unwillingness to let go. You simply couldn’t delete the effects he’d on you, the changes you’d made as a result of being with him.

You simply couldn’t scare away the phantom that had been your first love and had learned as a result to live with him rather than hiding from him.

Time hadn’t made you forget. It had made it bearable. And though absence had made your heart grow fonder, history was a reminder that things of the past couldn’t be erased.

When you wake up, you simply can’t pin the bubble in your stomach and the soft jitters in your chest to a particular emotion. You can’t place word to face but there is something in the air that screams nostalgia.

All the daily norms that present themselves in the way the light bounces of the walls, how the house feels refreshingly warm and your cat lazy slings between your legs in her morning greetings seems nothing if not odd.

And you don’t know why you do and in hindsight you could blame it on the odd feelings that stir within your chest in a restless agitation to want pleased that you find yourself staring at the old coffee shop that you’d first met Yoongi with a little more than just longing.

You’d spent two years walking past it, never offering it more than a measly glance and a fond smile but there was something almost magnetic, appealing about the store in all its old and dinginess that has you standing before it today.

That after two years of religiously avoiding the café did your heart ache wistfully at the sight in a want to relieve old memories and feel emotions as ablaze as the first time you’d entered it.

You wondered if the feelings you’d buried were still present in the little quaint building, abundant with importance or whether time had nulled its flames and your reach for familiarity had simply wandered away like all good things do.

The café despite its overall unappealing exterior had always been your favourite. You had looked past the falling sign and the uneven canopy and found solace in the grounded coffee scent and the little bakery tucked in the back, finding home in wooden seats and warmed beverage that presented you with comfort on winter days and summer nights.

It was your little secret that hid in the corner in the heart of the town, almost always empty and quiet and very often overlooked.

It was your treasure, the same place where’d you’d met him, finding shelter on a rainy day that soaked through your clothes and had you shivering.

It was the same place you’d locked gazes with him, albeit unfamiliar then but familiar with the dullness in his eyes that had you forcing your way through his walls and layers to extend a friendly hand out.

It was the very same place that had you returning back on dates, familiarising yourself with the seat next to the window and the menu and him until it was practically tradition to sit across from each other on casual nights spent talking aimlessly until it closed.

So returning after two years of being away made you feel apologetic, feeling as though you’d neglected the place in your want to avoid the pain that came with reminiscing and almost repentant in your actions as you stepped inside, knowing nothing had changed and there was still the same wooden tables and the same barrister at the front but still washing your eyes over to drink it all in and playback memories of times before things had changed.

You walked over to the front and smile at the barrister in acknowledgement, wondering if she remembered you and by the way her grin grew and she looked almost surprised you think maybe she does.

“Hi,” You breathed. Your stomach felt a lot better than this morning and it struck you after finding yourself here so abruptly, overwhelmed with familiar smells of pastries and coffees that your want for a beverage was only stronger than ever. “Can I have a-“

“I’ve got it.” She interrupted and a large smile played on her lips as you stared at her in mild amusement.

“How did you-?” You trailed off, wondering how she could possibly remember your order after all these years of being away. Sure you’d been a regular customer but the odds that she’d remember your usual was almost touching in a sense.

“Boss often said we’d lost our best customer,” She replied, a strong glint in her eyes as she busied herself in preparing your drink, her voice soft as she spoke to you. “We don’t get many people but you were here always here without fail so we thought you’d moved away.”

“I’m sorry,” You offer and you really are, this place was like home to you and you’d avoided it in the want to let the past be the past. “It’s been a busy few years.” You told her and it’s half a lie because you have been busy. You been busy in finding yourself, in getting to know yourself and live by yourself.

You’d been busy in getting to know the little liberties that had made you you before you’d known Yoongi- the ones you’d lost in loving him and though you were past the point in your life where you wallowed in self-misery and nostalgia, you’d simply been carried away.

“I can imagine.” She sighed, finishing off the lasts of your coffee before turning to you with a slighter sadder smile. “He still comes here, you know.”

And you know exactly who’s she’s talking about and you can’t help the way your heart leaps at the mention of him, at the thought that he still comes to the same place that was important to you as it was to him, sitting down in the same cosy spot right by the window to mull over his music after long nights of needed solitude.

“Often looks like he’s looking for someone as if any day will be different than the previous,“ She continues, knowing the look on your face and despite only being acquaintances through the cafe knowing more about your love story than the rest.

And when she turns to you, she’s grinning wider than ever, almost glad that of all days, today was the day you’d decided to show up. And she hands you your coffee before she speaks again, and you look down to realise that it’s exactly how you like it, creamy and milky as always and years could pass but your taste most definitely hasn’t.

“I think he can stop looking now.”

And you don’t have any time to really ponder on her last words as she thanks you again, shaking her head at your questioning smile before you turn around, automatically moving towards the area you know best when you see him.

And its been two years but your stomach does backflips and your chest heaves and for a second you forget how to breathe. Your throat feels as if it’ll clam up anytime soon but he looks more beautiful than the last time you’d laid eyes on him.

And he sits there, by the window with dark hair and even darker eyes that contrast greatly with his milky skin, staring out into the streets and sipping at his coffee with his face pulled in a characteristic you know all too well is to show that he’s thinking.

Two years is a long time and he looks slightly older, more mature and his hair hangs low and brushes against his eyes, more rings adorned on his fingers and there’s something about him that screams difference, stranger but has your heart soaring in familiarity because god, you were a liar if you thought that you weren’t still in love with him and seeing him did damage to your strengthened heart. Even now, you could stare at him forever.

And you don’t know whether it’s the stubbornness to sit in the same spot that you’ve always sat, unwilling to sit any place else or simply to talk to him, to hear his voice that gives you strength, holding onto your cup with a firmness that is new to you when it comes to him and marching over with a sense of purposefulness that even you can’t place.

“Is this seat taken?”

And his head whips to look at you with his eyes blown wide and his pink lips parted in disbelief. He could recognise your voice anywhere.

He doesn’t speak immediately, rather taking you in standing before him after years had done its work on you for a few moments. You offered him a small smile in encouragement and his stomach churned unpleasantly because you were the most beautiful thing he’d ever laid his eyes on.

You were standing there before him with a cup of coffee, your hair shorter, your smile wider and he hated that in your last few months of being together he had stolen that from you. He hated how he’d made you feel, hated the way his stomach churned in guilt, in regret every time he thought of you.

The way you stood only indicated independence, promise and you were strong and holding yourself together with a new profound confidence that left him speechless, repentant for the wonders that were you and the ungratefulness that was him in ever letting you get away.

He could sit there and drink you in, mumble apologises into your skin for the rest of his days and search for any indication in your brown orbs for a hope, any hope that you still loved him.

He could call out for you, reach out for your hand and bring you home, re-find the corners he loved best and re-explore and voyage across the pages in a story that was yours.

He wants to apologise, wants to tell you about the mistakes he made. He wants you to understand him in the way he didn’t understand him, retell his account of those last moments. He wants to tell you about the days where he struggled, the days where he didn’t, he wants to confide in you in the ways he did time ago because this, you had once been his best friend and his world.

The thought is almost dizzying and instead he replies with an even smaller smile that resembles a grimace before gesturing to the chair in front of him because there is time for that and one day he’ll let you know. “Not at all.” Never for you, he wants to reply.

And it almost gives him déjà vu of the first time you’d met, when you’d fought for the seat in front of him and he’d given a slight nod unknowing of the years fate had planned for the two of you, only these were different circumstances.

In a way, he thinks that maybe you are meeting again for the first time, two years was a long time and it was apparent, with the way you approached him with nothing but loose ties and fragmented memories that you were two different people.

And it’s almost painful to think that had it been a few years back you would have bumbled in with a smile radiant enough to make the sun look dull and you would plant a kiss to his lips and you two would sit there, sit here in the very same spot by the window, addicted to each other’s presence.

He had learnt a lot these past few years. From the moment he’d come home to find your things missing to the disappointed stare your friend had given him when she’d collected the last of your bits that somewhere along the lines he had gone wrong.

He hadn’t been wrong to fall out of love but wrong enough to realise that it was a mistake to fall out in love with you when all he wanted to do was bundle you into his arms at night, chat aimlessly on the days he was overridden with frustration and lost for inspiration.

He realised months on, when he’d fall asleep on his desk not wanting to go home because what was home if it wasn’t with you that he didn’t feel relieved, he didn’t feel less burdened without you but rather empty after years of feeling so full with love.

Heartbreak was not a one way street and it took him as much as time as it did you for things about you to stop bothering him and though he still searched for you in the café, always going in case of finding you, he figured you’d made your peace without him.

And if there was one thing he was grateful for, was that made you’d realised that he had never been good enough for you and he hadn’t valued you enough when you were worth more than anything in this universe.

No date he went gave him the same feeling, the same excitement and no music he made felt genuine enough but he’d realised that it was his short fallings that had cost him, something he’d learn to live with yet years on staring at your face, slightly more lined with age and maturity did he realise just how much had been at stake.

“So you still like your coffee black then?” You joked and you couldn’t help but feel relieved when you see a slight quirk of his lips as he stared at his cup sheepishly.

“Some things don’t change do they?” He shrugs before raising his own eyebrows at your cup that you pull towards your chest defensively, almost shocked at yourself when your laughter leaves your chest so genuinely.

“I guess they don’t, Min Yoongi.” You smile at him and he smiles back but there’s something odd in the air, something different about the way you hold and present yourself but it’s obvious with the way he stares at you and you right back at him that maybe there’s a little more than just your coffee that hasn’t changed.

“You look different,” He says finally and you can’t help but stare at him questioningly. Did he mean your appearance? “Better.” And the way he frowns slightly and his eyes avert from yours do you realise that he feels guilty.

You open your mouth to speak, ready to wave off his doubts. “I’m sorry,” and it surprises you when you both speak at the same time, laughing lightly at the interruption and ready to continue when he shakes his head at you.

“What could you be sorry about?” he says, looking at you regretfully. “It was my fault. I shouldn’t have let it build up like that and I shouldn’t have let you leave like that either.”

You sighed, after so long of thinking about what you would say to him when the time came, you felt oddly empty. “I think maybe it was both our faults. None of us said anything. I think more than anything I was just scared of letting you go.”

“I was scared of letting you go too.” Yoongi whispered and you looked at him, encouraging him to go on because you needed your closure, you needed answers for a time where he’d refused to give you any. “I was being selfish.”

He looked at you then, eyes filled with raw emotion that are apologetic and gentle and has you choking up. “I just wanted you to be there even when I didn’t think I loved you anymore. Losing you was like losing my security so I avoided it and I’m just- I’m sorry we ever got to the point; for doing that to you.”

“You were my best friend.” You told him and he sighed audibly and it’s shaky but you march on relentlessly. “I would have understood if you had just talked to me. I hated that nothing was the same because I loved you more than anything. I would have ended everything in a heartbeat if it meant that you were happy, that we could still talk.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi tells you and this time it’s genuine and unlike the time where you’d stormed off and disappeared from his life.

“I’m sorry too,” You smile, shaking your head because you accept his apology and there were things that you had gone wrong in too. “I guess its better this way.” And you don’t want to say that because everything in your heart screams that you still love him, that you couldn’t really cope with anything but loving him and you could live with the fact that he didn’t love you back.

“Is it really?” He whispers, so softly that you almost miss it but you’re sure, you’re sure that he’s said it and maybe, maybe he does still love you and maybe these years were what you needed to make the heart grow fonder. These years are what you needed to grow, to realise your worth as individuals and your strength in being together.

And when you look at him now, he, his own person and you, your own, you’re not as insecure to think that he his your entire world and you are nothing without him.

And you take your time in speaking, take your time in conjuring an answer to fit to reply to him and when you do, he looks at you, patient and waiting and you offer him a smile and a reply that isn’t absolute but provides him with a hope that leaves a smile, a genuine smile lingering on his lips.

“I guess we’ll see.”

And you walk away from the coffee shop, glad you had entered it in the first place with a lighter chest and a blooming smile that makes even your friends question.

“I’ll see you later?” and the implication that you want to see him later, that you don’t want this to end but rather to start has him nodding fondly, glad that after years of searching for you again, he hasn’t found you but rather a new version that leaves him excited and just as eager as the first time you had met.

“I’ll see you later.” He promises, watching you twirl away with a light wave before catching the eye of the barrister who’s absolutely beaming from ear to ear.

A promise that is one absolute that he can definitely offer you.

The promise of later comes sooner than you expect. You find yourself in the coffee shop without fail every afternoon, a brighter step, a bigger grin and a world that wasn’t too large for you to fit into.

He was there too. And you’d end your day welcoming the barrister who’d have your order ready for you, maintaining small conversation before your eyes wandered away and you’d find him tucked away in the corner as if waiting for you.

You’d find yourself sitting in front of him, making up for lost time and re-establishing everything about each other, exploring and discovering and you realise that you had never fallen out of love and seeing the same thing that had once broken your heart reflected in his own orbs- you realise maybe he didn’t either and rather had wandered off lost where familiarity had bred contempt and absence had birthed love.

And it’s inevitable how you two fall in love again, slowly and just as deeply as the first time. He doesn’t promise you anything and there’s nothing guaranteed but the security you feel when he stares at you in wonder is overwhelming.

And you’re glad, glad that you aren’t bound by obligation and sentimental vows but rather in the very purity of simply wanting to be together.

“You took up photography?” Yoongi asks you when you’re huddled up in front of your laptop and camera over a cup of coffee, sighing at the countless images needed edited. You look up to find him staring at you curiously, his eyebrows slightly furrowed because he was discovering new things every day.

“I hated my old job.” You tell him after a long moment, bringing the drink to your lips before indulging in its sheer creaminess, watching him watch you as you hummed in content. “I was just forcing myself to do the same thing every day and so I quit and took up something I actually liked doing.”

“And I like this,” You smile, “I love taking pictures of nature, of people, of everything- every day is different, every person is different and it’s beautiful really, being able to capture every emotion into an instant.”

Like every art came freedom and with photography you had the autonomy to do what you liked and the world to do what you liked with it.

“Can I see some of your work?” Yoongi asks and you stare at him, searching his face only to find that he’s genuinely curious, genuinely interested in the things that you find passion in.

And you realise, not so much as daunting as you think, that you’re slowly letting him back in. what he asks is an innocent question but there’s a sense of intimacy, something almost invasive that makes you realise the extent of your closeness.

You remember days of when he’d ask you to come down to his studio, staring at you with anticipation as he let you listen to his music because it was important to him. By sharing his art he was allowing you to see glimpses of his life. He was allowing you to see his story in other means that were beyond just him.

You understand then, nodding your head in affirmative and watching in the same daunting anticipation as he scrolls through your photos. And he stares in awe, eyeing at the pictures as if he’s trying to gain memories of lost time and you understand then that you’re fine with this.

You are fine with letting him back in after years of being apart and it’s not so scary to realise that this is a start of a new journey in the same love story that in hindsight, never did really end.

Unbeknownst to you, staring at your pictures and seeing your drive in shaping your life to fit the mould that you wanted inspires him and when he returns to his studio that night, it’s your very passion that makes music come easy to him.

“You have a cat?” Yoongi questions, grimacing lightly as he steps into your household for the first time, taking a step further in your new established relationship by dropping you home when he sees that thing twirl between your legs and purr contently at your side when you nestle into the couch.

“Isn’t she pretty?” You ask back, grinning up at Yoongi who doesn’t take his eyes away from her. She hisses at him, scowling deeply when he tries to take a step forward and you laugh at the affronted look Yoongi gives her, offended that he wasn’t even allowed to come near you.

“She hates me.” Yoongi deadpans and you grin because watching both your cat warily eye Yoongi in the same way he eyes her back as if to challenge one another is absolutely beautiful.

Months later, it’s a sight to behold when you find Yoongi asleep on the couch, having given him a set of keys, to see the same feline snuggled up on his chest, purring away as if she hadn’t spent the afternoon snobbishly turning away from his affections.

You had done your growing, he had done him and it’s different. You’re different. And you find a greater independence in voicing your own concerns and holding your ground in moments of anger.

You’re allowed to take up space. You were not an inconvenience. And so when you and Yoongi argue, you don’t cradle emotions to your chest and hope for moments of fury to disperse, but rather yell and scream and cry until there’s an understanding that allows you to grow, to move on, to learn.

“I don’t like it.” You sighed, sitting at the edge of your bed after a long day of arguing. Yoongi pretending to be asleep. “I don’t like it when you sleep at your studio because I feel like you forget that I exist.”

And it doesn’t take him long before he bundles you up in his arms, kissing your forehead because the anger has disappeared into the air and there’s nothing less he wants to do but to argue with you.

“I don’t forget that you exist. I don’t want you to think that.” Yoongi reassures you and you stare up at his long eyelashes and he tucks a hair behind your ear. “I’ll try come home earlier.”

And these aren’t promises but he keeps them anyway and he can’t help but feel a burst of adoration when you two actually sit in front of each other at dinner, babbling away because he’s home early and your showing him your work and he breathes in your inspiration.

It doesn’t take you long to love him and rather you build your relationship in between cracks and corners and you piece them back together in an adaption that is refined and strong.

And so when he kisses you, taking your lips as if there were his own, you realise with him you are whole and there is no other than him you would love.

And when he makes love to you, after years of being apart, your soul drawn to his as if you were forged from the burning ends of the same stars and your souls star-crossed and inseparable, you realise that there is nothing better than him loving you.

“I love you,” Yoongi whispers to you and you turn back to him surprised, it had only been a few months since you had gotten back together and you knew that the idea of saying that you loved each other was a daunting prospect.

“You-“ You start off but can’t possibly end because he’s repeating it over and over onto your skin, lips mouthing the phrase into your lips, your neck, your chest.

“I love you so much,” and he means it, and wonders how he could possibly fall out of love from someone as beautiful of you and he assures you that everything he says is only the truth because he’d be damned if he ever let you get away again.

“Show me.”

And love was not infinite and emotions had ways of dying out but you and Yoongi had proved all ends and if soulmates existed, you were undoubtedly his. You had found yourselves inseparable by a bond that was as strong as you allowed it.

And after nights of living alone, separated from one another and adamant on change and tastes of different waters, he was certain that it was in between your legs, bundled into your arms and smiles was where he wanted to be.

You had started your selfhood by walking away, proved your love in the letting go.

You had finally found each other again after a long winter. Two hearts connected like one, sure of finding the homes to which they belonged.

#bts #bts scenarios #bts smut #yoongi #yoongi scenarios #bts reactions #yoongi x reader #yoongi scenario #anagapesis

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writing-yj · 7 years

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Robin x Reader: The Bird Tattoo~Part Seven (Soulmate AU)

A/n: Angsty as hell, at least in the beginning, and this part is very long. I feel like I sloppily explained Mockingbird’s (your) backstory, so should I made a post that is specifically for Mockingbird’s backstory?

By the way, I absolutely love it when I get feedback from readers. I love getting messages and comments about my writing; it gives me a ton of motivation to continue. I’ll be cranking out parts, getting one out almost every day. Please let me know what you think, be it by ask or inbox!

You and the rest of the team were in the med bay, and for good reason. You were all pretty banged up, fortunately, with injuries that wouldn’t take too long too heal. The worst one being (out of all of them) a cracked rib, as far as you knew. Most of the pain came from being sore, and M’gann was mentally overwhelmed from having to use her powers constantly.

While they were awake and scattered around your ‘bed’ and talking, you were once out cold. And you pretended to still be out, partially because you wanted to hear what they were saying and you didn’t want to face them. You noticed how unhappy they were when they got here. Otherwise you didn’t feel like moving yet.

“I don’t know how she broke from the mind link,” Megan said and shook her head. “She was there, and then she wasn’t. Like she shoved me, or, us out of her head. That could be what weakened me.”

That made you feel worse.

“I know she had her reasons for what she did, but,” Artemis didn’t want to admit that she, too, was upset with her best friend. “Some of us could have gotten killed. It’s not unforgivable, but I need to know more.”

Conner was pissed at you because M’gann got hurt; his protective nature was the source of that. Wally was annoyed, not quite angry. He had his fair share of reckless decisions, but this wasn’t something he could entirely ignore. Kaldur lightly said he was disappointed in you. He wasn’t very angry either, just disappointed. You hated disappointing your leaders, and he was one of them.

“Mockingbird was reckless, I understand that much.” Robin said quietly. He sounded close to you. “And she put us in danger along with herself. But it’s my fault this happened.”

“She’s the one who ditched us, how is it your fault?” Conner questioned.

Robin sat on the edge of a bed near yours. “Because I deleted everything on her tablet. It had everything that could convince the Justice League that The Doctor was still alive. If she showed them that, they would have believed her.”

“I had a feeling there were going to be more consequences than just her anger.” Wally stated. “But you guys saw M. She was practically possessed and out for blood. I think she would have still gone after him, and by herself, even if you didn’t get rid of all her info.”

Robin weakly shrugged, completely guilt-stricken. But they were right. You risked their lives so you could try and get revenge. You turned into something else on the mission, and it wasn’t the Mockingbird they knew.

They briefly talked about how your mask came off, and you could feel that it still wasn’t on your face. They didn’t know your name, though. Only Artemis and Robin knew. The others couldn’t recognize you, since they don’t go to Gotham Academy. You were remarkably beautiful, and most of them agreed to that. They thought your eyes were especially unique, even thought the didn’t get much of a look.

You felt the heat coming off of Artemis’ body as she stood beside you, looking down at your ‘sleeping’ figure. “Mockingbird faced one of her biggest fears, and it wasn’t easy. I’ve never seen her so terrified.” Her voice was quiet. Artemis wouldn’t say this on usual day

“I don’t think we’ve seen her even remotely scared, so that was a bit of a shock.”

Artemis placed a hand on your arm, but you instantly seized up. Your eyes shot open and out of instinct, you grabbed her wrist with a bruising grip. She jumped, but didn’t fight to pull away. It wouldn’t make anything better.

Wally quickly got up to help, but you dropped her wrist when you saw it was just her before he could take one step. You pushed out an apology, but it was quiet and cracked. You sat up in bed and swung your legs over the side, but a biting pain refused to let you get on your feet. “Fuck,” you hissed quietly as you clutched your chest. Your cuts were skillfully bandaged, but your chest was bruised as hell.

The following awkward silence was unbearable, and it was hard to break. You owed them a big apology, so that’s what you gave them. “I’m... I’m really sorry. For leaving you guys.”

“Well I’d hope so.” Conner snapped and he turned to face you. “We could have been killed by those things, whatever they were, because you decided to bail!”

You often wanted to punch him in the face sometimes, even if it most likely meant a broken wrist. He was too temperamental, on most days. Conner was a nice kid at heart, but his protectiveness over Megan strongly annoyed you.

“Hey, calm down. Yelling at her isn’t going to solve anything.” Robin tried to dial things down.

Conner whirled around to yell at Robin. “We barely fought them off! And by breaking out of the mind link, Megan-”

Of course, it was about Megan. You had nothing against her whatsoever; it’s not her fault he was so clingy. “Oh drop the protective boyfriend act already! She can defend herself without you always trying to shield her from things she can handle on her own!” You snapped. You were still a little fired up. You looked past the boy, who you defined as an angry rock in that moment, to look at Megan. “It’s nothing against you, I swear. But if I knew that breaking the mind link would affect you negatively, I wouldn’t have done it.”

“It’s okay, Mockingbird. I’m fine now.” Megan said and sent you a small smile. She was such a forgiving girl, and she was the least upset out of all of them. And you were thankful for that. You weren’t as close to her as you were with Artemis, but she was still a very good friend.

However, you were still facing a furious Conner. It was like an angry staring contest, with neither of you backing down. He was ready to throw you out another window, and you wanted to backhand him at the very least. You didn’t want to risk any further injuries.

“What more do you want from me?” You growled after more intense staring.

It was Kaldur’s turn to speak. “We want answers.” Kaldur said firmly. “We need to fully know what your affiliation is with The Doctor.”

“It's time to stop hiding things from us, Mockingbird.” Artemis said quietly, and you were ready when she put her hand on your shoulder.

You looked down at the ground and let out a quiet and sarcastic chuckle. “You really want to know what happened to me, huh?” Your tone made them wary, but you saw them I'd out the corner of your eye. “Then take a seat. Grab a chair. It'll be a while. This isn't exactly easy to talk about, so I hope you have patience.” There was a bite to your words, but they understood why. You were talking about a sensitive subject that haunted you.

But once you started, you couldn't stop. “My family and I were walking home after eating out at my favorite restaurant in Star City. We lived just down the street from it, so we weren't expecting anything bad to happen. It was dark, the stars were out, and it was snowing lightly. It was a beautiful night, but it was the last time I was happy alongside them.

“I don't know how it happened, but he attacked us. He kidnapped all four of us single handedly. I was only eight years old. The Doctor set up a lab in a warehouse basement on the outskirts of Star City, and that's where he kept us. We weren't the only ones he nabbed, though. There were so many others.” Your eyes were trained on the floor and your body was tense. “Some dead, others still alive. We all went through the four steps of his experiments.”

You watched him go through all four steps so many times. You could never forget them. “Step one, electrocution,” you gingerly pulled up your shirt to show a small spiderweb scar on your hip. “Step two, surgery,” you pulled the collar of your shirt down past your shoulder to show them a deep scar on your upper back, not far below your neck. “Step three... radiation exposure.” The amount of radiation you all were exposed to was painful, and most didn't survive. “And step four was being injected with a serum that contained animal DNA and chemicals. No except me survived step four.”

Suddenly, Robin set next to you on the bed and cautiously, but secretly, placed his hand over yours for comfort; something you never expected. It made your heart skip a few beats before you fought to continue.

“Mom died after surgery. The last thing she told me was to keep being her strong little girl,” you bit your lip to keep yourself from crying. The last thing you wanted to do was cry in front of them. “Dad died after radiation. He told my sister and I that he loved us, and he told my sister to protect me before he passed.” Their last words still rang out in your head; you could repeat them if you wanted. “One by one, the survivors dwindled until it was only Arlene and I. The Doctor started step four, and she actually survived the transition, and to be honest, her powers were cool as hell. She could change colors to match her surroundings, like a chameleon,” the moment she came back alive gave you hope, but you lost it just as fast.

“But she was too weak. She couldn't walk straight and she was slow to respond to everything. “One morning, or night, I never knew which, she could barely move by herself.” The metal part of the bed started to dent under your grip. “Arlene told me to survive for her, mom, dad, and everyone else who fell into The Doctor’s clutches. He saw how weak and defenseless she was, so he dragged her out of our cage... and killed her. She never got to see her tattoo. Then it was my turn.”

Robin lightly squeezed your hand, and he was thankful that your body shielded your hands from the team’s view. He felt lucky that his movements didn’t seem suspicious.

“I stopped fighting, I didn't want to fight anymore. I accepted my death before my sister was taken from our cage for the last time. As I went through all the steps, I prayed to the gods to bring my death as soon as possible. At the time, my will to live died with my family. But death never came, and I was turned into this.” You gestured to your body, implying that you never wanted to be Mockingbird. “He almost completely brainwashed me into being his weapon of revenge and I became obedient. I listened to everything he said, but I was still in there, and I hated it.”

Wally cocked his head and asked, “Is that why you also don't listen to orders?” You weren't the only one who disobeyed orders sometimes, they all did at some point.

The team thought you were going to blow up, but you stayed surprisingly calm. “That's a big contributor, but I always had authority issues when it came to adults who weren't my parents. So it kind of just added to it.” You were a little shit as a child, but it didn't get you in trouble. Usually. “The Doctor taught me everything. How to fight, he home schooled me, I read every book he gave me from cover to cover, and I was trained to control my ability. All that in four years.” The hurt from digging up your memories still swirled inside you, but it was more dull.

“Before the plan could be officially set in motion, he kidnapped another girl. She looked around ten, and looked a lot like I did at that age. Instead of being sympathetic, I was enraged. I felt I like was being replaced.”

Your heart started to pound when Robin slowly and awkwardly wordlessly weaved his fingers between yours. What was going on? What was he doing? Instead of hating it and pushing him away, you welcomed it. It made you feel better, and made it easier to speak. It felt natural, almost. Having your hand in his.

There was a short silence after, like a cliffhanger. “So I built a bomb,” You abruptly started up again, louder this time. It sounded almost comical, like a teen coming home to tell their mom they did something bad, without caring.

“You what!?” Artemis spluttered. “You made a bomb!?” As she exclaimed her questions, Wally snickered and Megan smiled at the short comedic break. You needed it.

“Like I said, he gave me books and I read them. They had some very useful information he clearly didn't know was there, otherwise I wouldn't have gotten the books.” You shrugged slightly. “That night, I placed the bomb accordingly and I used my powers to blend in and sneak out. It was the first time I had been outside since my family was snatched off the street. It was dark, the stars were out, and it was snowing lightly again. As if I never left.” You remembered how nice the cool snowflakes felt on your unhealthily pale skin. The cold wind blew through your hair, and you were finally free. “I sprinted away until I could barely see it, and I used the detonator. The bomb definitely worked; I completely decimated the warehouse.”

There were comments on how you made the bomb; maybe you could deactivate/take them apart. You never had to, so you said it would take some practice before you actually tried it.

“After the first year of being gone, the search for my family, and everyone else, was called off. They had video evidence that we were taken, but it lead to nowhere. No license plate on the vehicle, and no good view of his face.”

Not even the best of detectives could solve the case. Nowadays, there were better and rarely corrupted detectives in the police force, and heroes who might as well be detectives. Shoutout to you and Batman.

“Black Canary was good friends with my mom. When I popped up on her doorstep after four years, she tried hitting me at first because she thought I was a shape-shifting alien. When I proved it was me, she almost had a breakdown. She was so happy to see me, and when she hugged me, I started to freak out. I forgot what loving embraces and affection felt like, and I thought she was going to hurt me.” You then chuckled.

“I started to kick her ass until she restrained me and kept me in a hug. I remember her saying, ‘I’m going to hug you whether you like it or not!’.” The memory brought a little laughter. “And I did like it, after around five minutes. Oh God, then Green Arrow walked in,” you all but snorted, and the others laughed. But not Robin. Robin was completely silent. A smile barely appeared on his face before drifting away.

“Who is this?” Oliver asked. “Did you adopt a child while I was gone? Couples usually make that decision together, but since we usually throw away the receipts, I guess we can keep her.” Your head turned almost 180 degrees in a flash, and you broke out of Dinah’s arms and dove at Oliver.

He barely dodged your attack, and he was startled at how fast you could move, and how well you could fight. Furniture got knocked over and some things got broken, but you were no match for the both of them; you still needed a lot of training.

As Oliver and Dinah pinned you to the ground, he asked again. “Seriously, who the hell is this kid?” He was joking about Dinah adopting you, but he was both intrigued and impressed by you.

“(Y/n) (L/n). Katherine (L/n)’s youngest daughter.” Dinah’s voice cracked. She couldn't believe that you were alive. But you were also alone, so she didn't even attempt to hope that the rest of your family was alive.

Oliver’s eyebrows shot up. “I thought they were pronounced dead a few years ago.”

You went limp under them, and you started to cry at the mention of your mother’s name. You had no one left. Although you were ecstatic to be free, almost everything terrified you. It was pure hell to find out where Dinah lived, let alone actually get to it.

“Just stay my strong little girl, (Y/n).” You said in your mother’s weak and dying voice. That threw Oliver and Dinah way off.

“(Y/n), did you just-”

“Arlene, (Y/n), I love you girls so much. I’m so proud of you. Protect your sister, Arlene. Keep her safe until you can't anymore.” You used your father’s voice this time. His was cracked and raspy in his final days.

Were you metahuman? Did you always have this ability? Questions like that ran through their minds.

“You have to survive, (Y/n). Survive for me, for mom, for dad, and all those other people. Don't forget us. I love you.” Arlene’s muddled and broken voice came last. And a sudden loud, stomach-churning crack came from your mouth, and the sound of a body falling to the floor followed. You were reliving and replaying the loss of your family with alarming accuracy.

Dinah cried a little, too. Katherine was dead, Jack was dead, and so was fifteen-year-old Arlene. She didn't know you or your sister too well, but enough to be attached.

That night, Oliver and Dinah brought you in. And from then on, Black Canary took you under her wing as Mockingbird, and she helped you get better.

You didn't tell them about what you said, or what came after they tackled you to the ground. You just left it at that. “And now... I’m here.” Your voice was quiet and meek again. The story of your past was finished. The End. You didn't feel as shitty as you thought you would, but you were still a little traumatized. You slowly started to bury the memories again, no matter how much of a struggle it was.

When Kaldur stepped in your direction, Robin pulled away from you and let go of your hand as if you burned him. Like you were toxic. He grunted as he got off the bed and moved over to where Wally was, placing a hand on his ribs with a wince. He let the dull ache go away before moving again.

Some questions were made, and most were answered. You refused to describe and share gory details, but they didn't ask. Surprisingly, there were hugs, and then some jokes and laughter. You eventually veered the subject away from your past, and you once again apologized for jeopardizing their safety. And you were forgiven. Mostly, anyway.

But Robin hung back. He didn't smile, he didn't laugh, he didn't breathe a word. He stood as far away from you as he could without seeming suspicious, and it hurt a bit. ‘Does he hate me again?’

Did his opinion on you change? Did he think you were just being too dramatic and attention-seeking? Was he always going to avoid you now? You didn’t know. You wanted to, but you didn’t dare ask. Not in front of everyone else.

“I made fake files about me for school, as Black Canary’s niece. Otherwise, I’m still legally deceased.”

“Cool!”

Robin still didn’t speak to you, even when you were moved to your room. That was where you were harshly scolded by Batman, mildly by Black Canary, and you were banned from going on missions until further notice or until you proved yourself to be capable of following orders, but all seven of you were going to be out of commission for a few days anyway.

Wonder Woman took the time to talk with you about the mission, and about what you did wrong. She wasn’t being condescending or critical, but it more of a discussion about what you could do differently, and trying to find the silver lining. That part wasn’t easy, but still. You definitely got along with her, but you didn’t see her as often as you wish you could.

Superman showed up for a brief moment, but you weren’t happy about it. You didn’t like him for a multitude of reasons. He was regularly a jerk to Conner. Sure, you didn’t get along with Superboy on rare occasions, but he didn’t deserve to be treated like crap. In your eyes, Superman was egotistical and often put his emotions before his duty. He was too out-of-check from your point of view. However, it gave you some comfort when you discovered he wasn’t Batman’s favorite person, either. That made you smirk every time you thought of it.

Now only Black Canary was in your room with a tall glass of water for you. She sat on your bed and talked to you for several minutes straight, but you didn’t respond. You were very passive and it seemed like you were just ignoring her, but your eyes were glossy and your face was blank. You once again went into an unresponsive trance.

Dinah worriedly called out your name. “(Y/n)?” She put a gentle hand on your leg and shook it a little. “(Y/n)!”

After half a minute, you slowly blinked and turned to look at her. “Hmm?” Dinah was staring at you, and it was obvious that she had been talking to you. “Sorry, I was thinking. What were you saying?”

She huffed. “I hate when you do that, it’s very unsettling.” She only saw you go into such a daze a couple times before, and still startled her. Artemis got used to it after the fifth or sixth time. “Are you sure you didn’t get a head injury?”

“Trust me, I am concussion free. I’ve never had one, believe it or not.” You chirped, and you reached over to knock on your wooden bedside table. You didn’t want to jinx it. “What were saying?” You asked again.

“I-” Dinah started, but she got up and closed the door before speaking again. This was a private conversation. “I was apologizing. For everything.”

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and you cocked your head. She already apologized for not listening to you when you claimed Cassius Henze was still alive; what else was she talking about?

“When your team was formed, I brought you here. Instead of taking you back to our home, where I raised you as my protege, I left you here. I said that you needed to learn how to work with others because you and Roy were successfully completing missions but in unnecessary and inconvenient ways.”

“I’ll admit, that’s very true and it was fun as fu-” Her sharp glare stopped you from swearing. “And I needed to get some friends my age, since all of my friends were adults and Roy,” you agreed. Aside from Roy, the Justice League members were the closest to being considered friends. “So you had your reasons.” Her reasons were perfectly valid unlike Robin’s and you understood, but it still hurt at the time.

Dinah handed you the glass of water, and you took a big gulp. “And then I only came here to train you all, not to see you. We patrolled Star City, but I only treated you like a sidekick, instead of like a,” She cleared her throat and paused, looking away. “Instead of like a daughter.”

Dinah and Oliver never officially adopted you, and it was a subject you skirted around. You did kind of see Dinah as a mother, and Oliver as somewhat of a father. But you definitely never called them “Mom” or “Dad”. You weren’t ready for that, and you didn’t think they were either.

You stared into your cup, looking at your slight reflection in the water. You still didn’t have your mask on, and you were starting to want it back. “I forgive you, and it’s in the past. We can learn from our mistakes, and know what to not do in the future.”

Dinah nodded, and you sat in a comfortable silence until she asked, “Is there anything else I can get you?”

Your head perked up. “Yes, actually,” You looked down at your over-sized white button-up shirt you were given to make treatment easier. “I need a different button-up. I can see my tattoo through this.”

Her gaze shot down to your rib cage, and sure enough, she could faintly see your very colorful tattoo through the thin material. “Wow, that is one of the brightest tattoos I’ve ever seen,” She found it extraordinary. “Can I see it?”

You smirked and your eyes lit up with a joke. “I’ll show you mine if you show me yours~” You didn’t have any time to say you were kidding before she whacked your leg with an audible slap.

“Do not ever say that again, young lady.” She scolded you and she walked over your closet. “Understand?”

“Yes, Miss Lance.” You snarked. “It’s funny that you reacted more to that than the time I dropped the f-bomb during a Justice League meeting, when I was tagging along.”

Dinah chuckled as she shuffled through your closet. “I remember that. You insisted on going because it was ‘bring your kid to work’ day.” She emerged with a big navy blue button up. “You could have met Robin, but Batman flat-out refused to bring him. I guess he had hunch that you two would clash.”

You shrugged at the mention of him, and your face turned a light pink. Robin held your hand, without warning. He used to do anything to not touch you, but then he did it willingly. And for him supposedly not liking you, it sure was an intimate gesture. And you enjoyed it.

Black Canary reached to unbutton your shirt, but she noticed your expression and gasped. “Are you blushing?!”

“No!” You denied it, but it was feeble.

She had a big grin on her face. “You definitely are!” She gasped a second time. “Oh God, do you have a crush on Robin?!” Dinah became a mother who was proud that her child was romantically interested in someone for once. “My beautiful bird has a crush on Batman’s bird!”

“Quiet down! Someone will hear you!” You hissed and you started unbuttoning the shirt. You didn’t care that she saw you in your bra; she was unofficially your parental guardian and another female.

Her face fell a little when she saw the giant, horrid bruise that was right in the middle of your chest; almost in the shape of a footprint. Some of the bruise touched the edge of your breasts, much to your discontent. The entire bruise looked very painful, and it hurt just looking at it.

Dinah helped you into your shirt cautiously, and she examined your tattoo. You jumped a little when her cold finger touched it. “That’s amazing. You must interact with your soulmate every day, several hours a day.” She pondered. Then she looked up with a smirk. “You know, the bird is starting to look like,” she paused for a dramatic effect. “A robin.”

“You’re kidding! You have to be joking!” You said frantically and you looked down at your tattoo, but your groaned when your bruised torso protested the sudden movement. “Alright then, you are not joking.”

Black Canary planned on joining the betting pool on who Robin’s soulmate was going to be; over half the Justice League thought it certainly wasn’t going to be you. Dinah thought differently.

Black Canary bid you goodnight after more conversation. And nonstop teasing, of course. She was not always the serious and stone-faced woman everyone thought she was. She had her moments when all seriousness melted away, and fun, affection, and playfulness took its place.

When you insisted that you didn’t need anything else, she opened the door and left. Neither of you noticed Robin slipping in before the door closed completely.

You looked up at the ceiling with a hand over your covered soulmate tattoo. Her claims that you had a crush on Robin rang through your head, and you questioned yourself. ‘Do I?’

Robin stood against the wall, waiting for you to notice him. The whole team was staying in Mount Justice that night, to take time to heal. Like an overnight stay at a hospital, but better. He technically wasn’t supposed to be out of bed, but he ignored that rule and the dull ache in his body.

You reached over to turn off your bedside lamp, but you saw Robin silently leaning on the wall. His face, completely emotionless like he was in the med bay. It scared the hell out of you; when did he get in your room!?

“How the hell did you get in here!?” You exclaimed and it was enough to hurt your chest again. “When!?” You weren’t unhappy to see him. Just intensely surprised.

“When Black Canary left.” He nodded to the door and he walked over to you. “I’m surprised you didn’t notice; if I was an enemy, I could have killed you by now.” He plopped down on the bed, making sure to not sit on your legs.

You rolled your eyes and leaned back onto your pile of pillows. “Well for your information,” you lightly nudged him with your foot. “It is a sin to kill a Mockingbird.” In your opinion, it was the best reference and best joke you ever made. And you were exceedingly disappointed that he didn’t laugh, or even crack a smile.

His face was still cold and hard. You sat and looked at each other without speaking. While you were trying to find out why he was acting so out of character, Robin was going through all the different things that could have happened on the mission.

Specifically things that could have happened to you. When you went after The Doctor, Robin thought there was a slim chance of the team defeating all the zombified victims. In the moment, he was upset with you. But when you crashed through the ceiling with the moonlight shining down upon you, when you shielded him from The Doctor, and when you were cut with the scalpel and violently kicked out the window, he was terrified that you were going to die.

Robin realized how much you meant to him, and he was trying do stop being so attached to you. But he was failing miserably. Here he was, trying to be cold and hateful towards you once again, but all he wanted to do was stay by your side for the night, his cracked rib be damned.

But when Robin heard your backstory? It was like he was torn apart. All of the things you went through was like a wooden stake to his heart. You previously told him some of it, but he wasn’t prepared for the rest. Not at all. No one had any idea that it was that bad.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong or are you just going to sit there?” You inquired, raising an eyebrow at him. His strange behavior was getting hard to decipher and it was very difficult.

The words Robin wanted to say weren’t coming together properly, so he looked away with a grunt. He wanted to scold you for putting yourself (and the team) in danger, and he also wanted to comfort you about your past. But he didn’t know how to say it.

“Robin,” you voice was firm, almost annoyed. “What is your deal? You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet, you haven’t smiled, hell, you’ve barely said a word since we got back!” You couldn’t see his eyes through his sunglasses, so there was no telling what he was feeling from your position. “If it’s about not listening to Kaldur’s orders, I’m sorry. How many times do you want me to apologize?”

“You almost died.” Robin mumbled. It was too quiet, so you asked him to speak up. “You could have been killed!” He said loudly. “You stepped in front of me when The Doctor was going to cut me up; that could have been you getting sliced open. I thought you were going to die when you were thrown through the window, shattering it,” he started to ramble. “And when we heard you scream? I thought he did kill you!”

“And he didn’t. I wasn’t going to let him kill you; his personal quarrel was with me, not any of you guys.” You were touched that he cared, but you didn’t think it was that much of a big deal. “I was doing my job, what we’re all trained to do.”

“You’re not getting what I’m saying!” Robin stood from your bed and started pacing. “You’re just as important as we are, and you were being careless about your own life!” He pulled at his hair with frustration. “And just... Everything you told us, about what he did to you and your family... You were so young, you barely go to live a normal life.” He was furious at The Doctor. Robin finally understood why you said he was such a wicked, twisted man.

“It’s not something any of us can change,” You said. His outburst was unexpected. “It’s called a past for a reason. There isn’t much of a silver lining, but it made me the person I am today.”

Robin was so not whelmed, he could barely talk. He itched to hug you, to embrace you, but he didn’t want to hurt you, and damn it, he didn’t want to be attached! Being Batman’s protege would have made an ordinary kid emotionally stunted, but Robin was far from ordinary. His emotions raged inside him, constantly contradicting each other and fighting all the time.

Kind of like you and Robin.

“What I want to know is why you held my hand, and why you pushed me away afterwards.” The feeling of him holding your hand was stuck in your noggin. “And instead of feeding me a lie, I’d like the truth. Please and thank you.”

Now that was a question Robin would murder pay to not answer. He knew why he did it, he knew why he pushed you away, and he knew damn well what he felt for you.

“If it makes you feel any better, I liked it.” You said awkwardly and you scratched the back of your neck. “But you seem to regret it.”

He didn’t mean what he said, and he didn’t mean to sound so cold. “That’s because I do.” Seeing the emotional hurt in your eyes was like a punch to the gut. Their usual sparkle in them died, and was replaced with sorrow.

Robin’s statement was like a slap across the face. Your stomach dropped, and the pain that came from your injuries was nothing compared to what you felt now. You didn’t know that three words and a contraction would cause your heart to crack.

Another reason to not want a soulmate or a relationship: heartbreak and biting words.

Robin briskly walked to the door before you could tell him to get out, like you planned to. You didn’t know if what you were feeling was anger, sadness, deceived; maybe all three? But you said something anyway. “I guess I’ll see you at school tomorrow,” you then added under your breath, “Jerk.”

He poked his head back into your room for a quick moment. “I don’t think any of us will be at school, but you’re not going anywhere with a fractured sternum.”

You almost choked on air. “What do you mean I have a fractured sternum!?” You yelled after him, but he closed the door.

A/n: This is so long and sloppy and I’m so sorry, but please tell me what you think!

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fantasticnewtimagines · 7 years

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*Wounded* Newt x reader

◘ Anonymous asked:

Hey! I was wondering if you could do an imagine where reader is hurting (like some type of sickness or wound idk, you decide, haha) and hides it from everybody but then the pain gets unbearable and she can't hide it anymore, maybe even passes out? In other words very angsty at the beginning but then a lot of cuddles+kisses+fluff at the end!:D You're an amazing writer and I wish you all the best in the future pieces♥️😊

♦ Thanks, hun! That means a lot! I hope you enjoy!!

It was earlier that day Newt had received word that a an Antipodean Opaleye was being held captive by some wizard’s in New Zealand and planning to take her eggs to sell illegally. The moment Newt heard the news, he knew he needed to help the poor creature out.

“It should only take us a few hours to get there.” Winding in-between people, Newt held his case tightly and you tried to keep up as best you could behind him. The train whistle blew and he sped up even more. “Come on, Y/N!”

Picking up your pace, you reached your hand out and grabbed a hold of Newt’s. Jumping on to the train, you quickly showed the man your tickets before making your way to your compartment.

“If the information I have is correct, we should find the dragon here,” pointing to a spot on the map, you nodded as you looked back up to your beloved magizoologist. You adored his admiration and love for magical creatures, but sometimes it got a bit exhausting. For instance, you had been enjoying a nice cup of tea in your hotel room when Newt barged in saying plans had changed and you were heading out to New Zealand this very moment.

“And what do we do when we get there?” you asked.

“The men who told me said there will be others waiting who will help me rescue him”.

“The men, they’ll be arrested, right?”

“Yes.” Smiling, Newt enjoyed the thought of locking up the horrible people who mistreated creatures.

Turning to look out the window, you watched as the train picked up speed and began it’s journey towards New Zealand. The humming of the tracks and the feeling of the vibration made you somewhat lethargic and you gently rested your head a top Newt’s shoulder. The wizard hardly cared and only scooted closer. You drifted off rather quickly and before you knew it, you had arrived.

You were surprised when the first thing you did when arriving was find an Inn.

“Alright.” setting the case down on the bed, Newt fumbled in his pockets for a moment before turning to meet your gaze. “Here is some money. I should be back soon. Don’t go too far off-”

“Excuse me?”

“Well, you’ve never been in this area before and I just want-”

“No no no.... you think I’m staying behind and letting you go out there yourself?” you placed your hands on your hips and raised your eyebrows at him. “I didn’t say yes to coming all this way just to be left while you go out there alone and-”

“I won’t be alone, Y/N.”

“I don’t care! I’m going with. That’s what we do. We fight our battles together.”

“This isn’t a battle for you to fight.” growing mildly irritated with you, Newt brushed his finger’s through his hair while he let out a large puff of air. “It’s dangerous.”

“Newton Artemis Fido Scamander. We are a team. We are doing this together.”

“No. We’re not.” Newt’s voice became more stern and his facial expression almost angry. It wasn’t until he gently placed a hand on your cheek that his eyes softened and became the gentle and loving ones you knew and love. “I love you, Y/N, and I can’t let you walk in to such danger, not while I can prevent it.”

“I love you too, Newt. And I can’t let you walk in to such danger either...”

Newt smiled and leaned in pressing his forehead against yours. “I know, love. But please... please sit this one out.”

Feeling defeated, you sighed and finally agreed to it. Placing a kiss to your lips, Newt grabbed his case and headed for the door. “I’ll be back soon. I promise.” And with that, his blue coat disappeared behind the door.

Pacing the room for what was probably the hundredth time, you stopped and looked out the window. It had been almost three hours now and there was no sign of Newt. Growing worried, you sat down on the bed when you heard a crumpling noise. Scooting over slightly, you picked up the map and your eyes landed directly on the circle Newt drew placing the area where the dragon was.

Your wand was placed on the bedside table and you felt the urge to pick it up. Fighting against it, you closed your eyes and tried to think happy thought. Unfortunately, all you could see was Newt getting caught and-

That was it. You grabbed your wand, the map and headed for the door. Screw Newt’s request that you sit this one out. You were not going to risk losing the man you loved.

After asking several strangers how to get to your destination, you came upon what looked to be a an abandoned junkyard. Walking over the various broken objects, you scanned the area wondering where on earth a dragon could be. It wasn’t until you noticed something glistening off in the distance that you hurried over. Following it, it only led you towards a shoe which you knelt down to look at. How on earth had this been shining? It was nothing more than a tattered old boot. Reaching down to examine it, you were suddenly spinning in the air. Landing harshly on stone and gravel, you quickly tried to stand as you noticed all around you spells being thrown every which way.

“OVER THERE!”

“THIS WAY!”

Dozens of aurors rushed past you, throwing spells at what you assumed to be some of the men who were holding the creature captive.

Realizing the shoe had been a port key, it all fell in to place. The people responsible had tried to hide their whereabouts.

Trying to make your way through the fighting, you suddenly fell to the ground as the giant dragon came in to view. It was still chained down and trying to escape. It’s vivid red flame lit up the night sky and it’s heat reached your skin. Landing on the ground, you clutched your wand tightly as you shot back up, running towards the trees for shelter.

The shouting grew louder and you felt your heart racing in your chest. Peering from behind the tree, you tried to make out where Newt could be but found no sight of him at all.

BANG!

A spell hit a nearby tree and you ducked down to avoid any flying objects. The tree cracked and fell to the ground. Panicked, you began running in the direction towards the dragon. If one thing were certain, Newt would be somewhere near it.

More flames flew in to the sky and it lit up the area perfectly. Spotting Newt, you picked up your pace. It was then one of the men spotted you and cast a curse your way. Catching you off guard, you fell to the ground. The sharp rocks hit your side and you felt it sink in to your side. Fighting to get back up, you were struck again. Falling to the same side, the pain only grew as you felt something else pierce your side.

Crying out in pain, you immediately grabbed the object. Pulling out broken glass, you dropped it to the ground. Your blood stained hand shaking, you used your other hand to raise your wand and cast a curse back at the man. Successfully hating him, you pulled yourself up, hand still clutching your wound. You could feel the blood coating your blouse and running down towards your skirt. Clutching your black coat tightly to you, you told yourself you had to be okay. You needed to help Newt.

Getting to your feet, you wiped the blood off on to your coat and made a run towards the wizard.

“Y/N!?”

Falling to his side, Newt looked at you angrily before realizing he didn’t have the time to properly scold you.

“What are you doing here?! I told you to stay put! Do you have any idea how dangerous it is out here? Never mind! Just, stay behind me!”

Ducking behind the wizard, Newt pointed his wand at the chains holding the creature down and just he tried many times before, cast a spell at it. The spell hit point on and the chains broke free. The dragon let out fiery flames once again and Newt ducked down, wrapping you in his arms for protection. The auror’s caught sight of the creatures release and immediately began casting a charm to hold the creature in. Almost all the men had been caught and once they were gone, Newt would finally be able to inspect the dragon for injuries before setting him free back in to the mountains.

Newt helped you up, rubbing the dirt off his pants and checking to be sure no more men were hiding.

“We’ve retrieved them all.” A tall middle aged man approached Newt, giving him the okay to inspect the Opaleye.

“Are you okay?” Turning to you, Newt gave you a quick look over before going over to the dragon.

“I-I’m fine.” You lied.

“You sure?”

“Yes. Go. Don’t worry about me.”

Giving you one last look over, Newt walked over to the dragon. You watched as Newt approached the creature quietly and slowly. Everything the wizard had one told you about these magnificent creatures all came flooding back in to your memory. Smiling, you watched him tenderly inspect the beast and speak with the remaining aurors.

The pain in your side suddenly returned and you clutched it, trying to hold in your scream from the pain. Telling yourself it wasn’t as bad as it felt, you would take care of it when you returned. Newt would never need to know and maybe after this, he’d let you tag along with any future rescues.

“He’s clear of any wounds. They will let down the charm and he will be released and free to live.” Smiling, Newt looked at you wrapped you in his arms. Holding in the need to give out a squeal from the pain, you nuzzled your face in to his chest as he whispered in your ear, “Don’t ever do that again, okay? I could have lost you....” Caressing your back, Newt held on to you for what seemed like hours until he finally pushed back. Giving you a smile, he tangled your arm with his and with a sudden pop, you both apparated back to the Inn.

Newt nearly passed out the moment you returned. He had fallen asleep while still in his white button up shirt and vest. You were sitting on the bed, making absolutely certain he was asleep. Hearing his tiny snore indicated he was and you slowly rose from the bed.

Gently you began to unbutton your blouse and slip it off. The blood was caked on to the side and it stung a bit as it pulled away from the open wound. You bit your lip to hold in your scream. The blouse landed on the ground and you looked down to your side. Tears immediately emerged from your eyes and fell down your cheeks as you saw the gash in your side. It was clear you were going to need something more than just a simple warm washcloth to fix this.

Now only in your stockings, skirt and bra, you grabbed your blouse off the floor and wrapped it around your waist. You needed to stop the wound from bleeding, you knew this much.

Turning to check that Newt was still asleep and quietly set his case on the floor. Leaning down, you undid the locks and lifted the lid. Looking back once more, you gently descended down the stairs in to the case.

Landing in side the tiny hut, you hurried over to his work table and began grabbing the various books he had staked upon it. One of these was sure to have a recipe for a healing potion.

Turning the pages vigorously, you began to feel light headed and woozy. Your hands began to look like blurs as they fumbled to turn the pages.

“Here....” Finding the page, you quickly read the ingredient list and began grabbing the various plants and herbs. Your hands struggled to grasp on to them and you kept trying to hold them tightly.

Vial. You needed a vial.

Turning around, you made your way towards where Newt kept his vials and grabbed one. It slipped from your grasp and you heard the shatter echo through your ears.

I can do this.... I can do this... You kept trying to tell yourself you were okay. It wasn’t until your legs began to feel as if they had become liquid and your vision began to fade that you knew you needed Newt’s help. Unfortunately, it was too late and the world around you had already gone black.

“Y/N?! Y/N!”

Your eyes opened slowly and all you could see was a mesh of colors and what sounded like Newt’s voice.

“Look at me, Y/N.... that’s it...” Newt’s warm hand caressed your cheek and he suddenly came in to clear view. Tears were streaming down his cheeks and he instantly hugged you to his chest. Lifting you quickly, Newt placed you on the cot. Your eyes closed again and it felt as if all the energy and life in your body was draining away. The sound of things shifting around vigorously faded in out and it was only moments later when your head was being titled up and something was being placed to your lips.

“You can do it... c-come on, love...”

The liquid slipped down your throat and you struggled to keep your eyes open. Newt’s hand was placed on the back of your head and he waited for you to swallow.

“J-just a little more, okay, love? Y-you can do it....” His voice was shaky and you could tell he was holding back the urge to burst in to tears.

Mustering up the strength, you took the last sip and closed your eyes. The world went dark once again.

Waking up, there was a dim candle lit beside you, a cool washcloth on your head and the familiar smell of mint and lavender. It was clear you were still in the hut within Newt’s case.

Turning your head, you tried to piece together through your blurry vision where Newt was. As your eyes adjusted, he came in to view and you found him sitting in a chair across from you, his arms crossed and his head leaning back against the wall.

Removing the wash cloth, you gently lifted yourself up to a sitting position. The sound of the blankets rustling got Newt’s attention and his eyes shot open. His vivid green eyes, still red from crying, looked directly in to your E/C ones and he wasted no time in closing the space between you.

“Oh, God!” Rushing to your side, Newt’ wrapped you in his arms, sinking in to the bed as he side beside you. “I-I thought I was going to lose you!” He cried. His face was nuzzled in to the crook of your neck. His hand tangled itself through your hair as he placed a hand to the back of your head. Rocking you back and fourth in his arms, he cried before placing both hands on either side of your face.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again!” He cried. “Ever!” His tears streamed down his face as he kept his eyes locked with yours. Your heart broke as you saw the pain and suffering you had caused him.

“I...I....” You wanted to explain but you knew nothing would make the situation any easier or better.

“Do you have an idea how close you were to death?”

You blinked, not knowing how to answer him. Newt dropped his hands from your face and stood up, pacing the room. You sat there, not knowing what to do or say. He just paced back and forth, his hand over his face as he struggled to find his next words.

Stopping, he turned to look at you again. “I can’t lose you, Y/N. I can’t.”

“I’m sorry....” Your words were almost inaudible as they came out almost softer than a whisper. The tears in your eyes stung and you began to cry. Rushing back to your side, Newt wrapped you in his arms and held you tight. Your arms wrapped around him and you cried in to his shoulder.

“I-I never meant to-to...” you could barely speak and Newt only shushed you.

“Shhh....” Cradling your head, he kissed your temple and rubbed your back gently. “I know you didn’t mean to let this happen. I know that.”

“I only wanted to h-help.” You sobbed.

“I know.” Pushing you back, Newt looked in to your eyes and brushed the fly away hair out of your face. “I thought I lost you, Y/N. And... and I don’t know what I’d do if I ever did. I didn’t want you to come because I wanted to keep you safe. I never meant for you to worry or feel like you weren’t capable of helping me. I just can’t bear the thought of ever losing you.”

You gave Newt a smile and nodded, knowing his words were genuine. “I-I know. I won’t ever do that again.”

Newt smiled before placing a gentle kiss to your forehead. He lingered there a moment before replying, “You’re the creature I value the most and I won’t risk losing you.”

That was MUUUUCH longer than I anticipated! I was hoping to post the next half of Taken tonight but I’m extremely exhausted. Sorry, guys. I promise though to have it done and up soon!

Also, I wrote this while listening to the soundtrack of The Theory of Everything and the music added so much more feels to the ending.

#newt scamander imagines #newt scamander #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x reader #fantastic newt imagines #fantastic beasts and where to find them #fantastic beasts fanfic #fantasticbeasts #fantastic beasts

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hereticaloracles · 8 years

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Solar Eclipse in Pisces- The Messiah Complex

And it will be in the last days, says God, that I will pour out My Spirit on all humanity; then your sons and your daughters will prophesy, your young men will see visions, and your old men will dream dreams.” – The Bible, Acts 2:17

Effective Date: February 26, 2017

Helios’ Astrological Angle on the Solar Eclipse in Pisces– Well, here we go again… Another eclipse! This one is in Pisces, and is about to make the last one look like a walk in the park. Leo is drama, but Pisces is epic. This eclipse will drown us if we let it- Or you could step up to the challenge and deliver an Oscar-worthy performance, now that you are coming from a raw and vulnerable place. Use the emotion that this eclipse gives you, channel it- Let it elevate you, not drag you down under. When it comes to Pisces though, there is only one way to win- through surrender.

Artemis’ Tarot Take on the Solar Eclipse in Pisces- Welcome to being stuck between a rock and a hard place – aka sandwiched between two Eclipses. This is a slow, anxiety filled simmer, my friends, and the only way we can see ourselves out of this situation is to build a bomb shelter. Fuck, this is a difficult one, Heretics, no matter how I cut it for you. This is the judgement of God type of shit, and either you receive grace or you drown in this baptism. There really is no way out, that is for sure. This Eclipse is happening opposite the true node in Virgo, meaning we are being sucked into a fucking black hole. Put your space suits on, Heretics, because we are entering a strange new world and things are just going to keep getting weirder from here…

The Sun & Moon, Venus and Neptune– This whole eclipse feels ungrounded, like it is not actually taking place in this reality, but some nightmare parallel world that we somehow find ourselves in. Yet, even though it may not take place in THIS reality, it still affects us deeply. There is a major sense of loss to this eclipse, as though some crucial part of ourselves has vanished; but we still feel it, like a phantom limb that still aches. During this eclipse you will find that many old things that you once thought done and buried will be rising up to plague you once more. Deals finished, debts paid, and lovers long lost- all could return now. Pisces is the great catch-all sign: Everything ends up there sooner or later. It’s the sewer of the zodiac. In fact, looking at the asteroids, it very much seems like the emphasis will be love (then again, what isn’t, this year?). The cosmos are about to give you that love your heart has been begging for, sobbing at the moon at three in the morning doing arcane blood rituals just to try to get him to notice you while you stalk his dating profiles that he may or may not have blocked you on because you were being a crazy hoe. There is a catch though- This is all a very monkey’s paw sort of situation, and every wish granted comes with a price. This love will be toxic to you. You will understand that this is not the love you truly need, one way or another. Nothing about it will work, BUT you will be given the chance that you are begging for. You will get the opportunity to prove the universe wrong, and I wish you the best of luck in doing so. No matter how this shakes out, you will gain tremendous wisdom from this time.

Not only will you gain wisdom, but you will also gain perspective. You see, there is a part of you that still thinks it is your mission to save the world, on your own. More than that, you still think you have to sacrifice yourself to do so! This is not the way it has to be. You are just looking for a good excuse to take the easy way out. Stop. Now is the time where you step up and start taking responsibility for your life, taking ownership for the moments you have yet to live. This is your life, and you should know better than to sell it so cheaply. Now, I say all of that because this eclipse will be a siren’s song to that part of you- You will feel as though you are being called once again, like it was pre-2012. You will be inspired, and find a many others have been as well. You will feel as though you have a duty to DO something with this insight, but will be clueless as to what that is. You see, the insights come when we are still, present in ourselves, and open to the truth within our souls- After they come we try to share them, with the best of intentions, but then all of a sudden someone is starting up a new round of Crusades. Focus on your own life. Find the truth within yourself. The great coming together of 2012 was wrong in that it tried to be a physical meeting- in 2017 it must be a meeting of souls. (Minor Planets used: Hylonome, Orcus, Amor, Apophis, Pandora, Chariklo, Circe, Terpsichore, Heracles, Teharonhiawako, Asbolus)

Sun (Judgement), Moon (The Hierophant), Venus (9 of Wands), Neptune (7 of Cups)- Well, fuck. I pull the damn Judgement card followed by the Hierophant for the eclipse itself and “Bloody Mary” by Gaga begins playing on my radio. Let us not dismiss this Spotify Divination! This is definitely a spiritually flavored Eclipse, and how could it not be? It is in fucking PISCES, the sign of Jesus himself. And like Jesus, we are all being crucified by something or other right now, and the weight seems to be completely and utterly unbearable. How in the world did Jesus endure through all of that suffering? He gave himself up to a higher power, that’s how. Now, wait a minute before your mind starts attacking this concept! This is kinda like Alcoholics Anonymous (appropriate for a Pisces post), because I know a lot of us are going toward mind numbing activities just to get through these transits right now. In order to fight forces stronger than yourself, you must merge into something larger than yourself. Like the Zords in Power Rangers. Or The Backstreet Boys. People who otherwise could not power through on their own join together to become a swarm, protecting the whole’s purpose. And we must help each other, because this truly is like a black hole we are sinking into. Take a peak at what you need to see, like a black scrying mirror, but don’t stare too long! For the abyss will stare back at you, and you will be forever mesmerized into it’s depths.

Each of us is a Hierophant, an heir to a tradition, and that is coming to the surface more than ever right now. Remember 6 months ago – that last fucking Pisces Eclipse that essentially rocked our world – well here is the culmination of that tidal wave. What is it that your ancestors have passed down in your bloodline for you to accomplish? What is your “super power,” so to speak? We are taking a look back (this Eclipse is opposite the North Node), back, back I say! Back to the past so that we can see exactly what it is that we are meant to do – meant to be – meant to see. A trip through the past is rather violent, though, and especially ridden with depression and anxiety. Here there be dragons, and here there be the monsters of your past which you must confront once again. We have the power to heal ourselves of our past misery, but accept it as a necessary part of our merger with the divine. Pain leads to elation, but first we must uncork this bottle.

Remember, Heretics, this is Star Year and we are going to follow this muthafucka out of this forest, no matter what monsters we run into on the way. The trees may be getting thicker, and we may have some cloudy nights, but that star will emerge again. You must have faith this year, and as I announced at the start of the year, your faith will be tested over and over again. Do you trust those you are intimate with? Do you trust your government? Do you trust the masses? Do you trust yourself? All the things you hold dear are being attacked (9 of Wands), but these fights are what is going to make you transcend. These trials are like sandpaper, and you will eventually emerge polished, and they will be rendered useless.

Mercury- So Mercury, all on his own out here, is the true central figure to this eclipse. He has just moved into Pisces, and as such, he is on the South Node of the Moon. What this means is that for this Eclipse, we have a true conduit to the divine, the world beyond ours. Now, the more lightworkery among you might take this as a chance to start throwing around words like “Higher Self” “Ascension” and “Multi-Dimensional Time” or some other such buffoonery, to which I say NO! This isnt 2011 anymore, we know better now. What IS going to happen is this: The skies will part for you, and you will receive a vision. This can take many forms, but in some way during this period you will come to a realization about your life and where you are along the path. For most of us, this will be a rude awakening, a painful one. For some it will even be horrifying, as if they awoke from a pleasant dream into a living nightmare. You will be challenged to destroy those things in your life which are holding you back from your success, from following your passions, and you will not want to do it. It will feel like you are giving up your lifeline to your past, because that is exactly what you are doing. You no longer need the lifeline, what you need is to find the courage to dive into the here and now. Cut the cord and take the plunge. (Minor Planets used: Pelion, Typhon, Quaoar, Hygeia, Eros)

Mercury (The Chariot)- Our dreams, the visions we have, all of these things are as real as the world we live in now. The thing is, these material objects you see in the world in front of you today – your computer, your whiskey, your car, the restaurant you ate at last night – these things were all dreams before manifest reality. And we want to create, we really do! But we have no fucking idea what to do. We feel trapped in other people’s creations – pushed up against a wall with their judgement being cast down upon us. And just like the last Pisces Eclipse, we can’t see a god damn fucking thing in regards to where we need to go. This can lead to HEAPS of anxiety and a feeling of being lost forever. Without a vision for the future, where the fuck are we in the vast expanse of space? Sure, this Eclipse is making it literally impossible to see the future clearly, but this is for a very, very fucking important reason. We must create it. What are the visions you are seeing? What is your past trying to teach you? Visit with the ghosts, but do not stay here. They will suck you in and keep you there forever – like Hotel fucking California. Get the information you need, and get the fuck out.

We must manifest these visions into reality, and the conduit to all of this is us. We are the medium for the visions, and once we accept ourselves as a vessel – a cup for the divine waters to pour into – only then will be ready to receive. Yeah, more surrendering shit, but would you rather struggle and drown? You have no fucking idea where you are right now, why not answer that call? Are you afraid that you may hear you have been crawling through the thick because you have veered off your path too far? Wouldn’t you rather know? Don’t slide into Piscean escapism. You must make a move. You must use this water energy to manifest your deepest desires. Because if you don’t, you can sure as hell expect a great deal of punishment from yourself. And no one can save you from yourself but you.

Mars, Jupiter, Saturn, Uranus, and Pluto– So we need to talk about something. Roiling around in your subconscious is the deep and abiding fear that you are insignificant and impotent in the world, and that you will soon be exposed for it. You must confront this very soon, as it will be thrown up in your face if you do not. All your fears will come true if you refuse to face them. You are unconsciously acting from a place of deep fear right now, and what you think is you getting ahead is actually cutting yourself off at the knees. You need to examine your motivations before you make any choices now, lest your decisions lead to your undoing. You cannot trust in yourself implicitly, you have to second guess everything. This is good, because nothing truly makes sense on its own right now- You are caught up in the churn. You will be dragged down and swept out to sea if you don’t keep your head up. There are so many currents trying to claim you as their own right now, and all you want is some dry land to rest on; Unfortunately there is none in sight- You have to keep swimming until you reach the shore. As above, there will be some majorly weird synchronicity the past, old issues resurfacing that you had long since forgotten about- These will be deeply personal, and you have the chance to end them once and for all. It could, however, return something lost that you miss very dearly. If that is the case, then you have a second chance at it, and will have to move on it quickly before it slips away again. You are a different person, even from how you were a month ago. In these times, you can grow as much in a month as it used to take in a year. Showcase how you have changed. In doing so, you may realize that what has returned no longer serves you, and if that happens do not allow nostalgia to override common sense- Move on and act in your own self-interest. This may seem difficult, but remember; Rough seas make for strong sailors, and a lot of sea-sickness! (Minor Planets used: Atlantis, Osiris, Askalaphus, Eris, Echeclus, Hebe, Ixion, Isis, Siwa, Cyllarus, Deucalion, Pallas Athene)

Mars (5 of Cups), Jupiter (5 of Pentacles), Saturn (Empress), Uranus (Page of Wands) and Pluto (King of Swords)- So what do you do when you are being literally crushed? You let go. You become a dream. Or you become an explosion and clear that motherfucking debris out. Pisces wants you to surrender, and that is going to be a hard as fuck thing for a lot of you to do. Do not feel shame. Do not feel guilt. Let it all go and start again, and only then will you be able to see clearly the road you were always meant to follow; because that road isn’t some illusion put there by others. Because that road isn’t something that you are told to go on, but one that your ancestral line has been following for generations. When we are stuck in the waters, we must follow the current – not fight it. Breathe…. breathe… and let go. In the end, you are the only one who will manifest judgement on yourself. You have the power to see past the wrong judgement because your cause is far greater than what has been placed before you. You are not here to save the billions of other beings on this planet. We must give mercy and grace to others so that one day, perhaps, they will learn to lay mercy on their own lives. Remember, the only person who can save you in the end is yourself.

We sit here and we punish ourselves for our dreams, and allow forces to control our perception of reality. This happens to the best of us, over and over again, but we must not give up. We have been given this amazing chance to live in this beautiful realm, and we cannot give our power to others. We must take our power back and wield a fucking sword (King of Swords). You may have to do things you do not want to do, but you know you must do them. This lunation isn’t about feeling comfortable. It will do everything in it’s power to make you feel uncomfortable so that you either choose to completely give up and join the collective (oh Pisces), or power through like the force of a Volcano into a newly polished ego (hello Aries season, coming up next!). Everything is being taken from you, stripped from you so that you realize what the real stuff of reality is. Sometimes we need to be told to eat cake by an out of touch lunatic before we rise up and realize our true power. There is no poverty of the heart. You are making it up. You are giving yourself excuses not to accept the love that is around you. You deserve it. Deep down, every monster is a child begging to be loved (hello Uranus as the Page of Wands), but somewhere along the way they have been told they are worthless by someone who had a lack of self love. This lack of self love is like a virus that can spread, from parent to child or lover to lover or friend to friend. The chaos wants you to create, it is saying you have everything you need accept for your own faith in yourself! You’re drowning in your self doubt. Would you allow someone you saw drowning to drown? If you would help them, you can surely help yourself. This is like the trials of Hercules, folks, and if you don’t have the grit to get through it, you wont get the grace you so long for. Reality is harsh right now. Our faults are being magnified, but that is because we wont be able to make it if we don’t fix these blemishes. Confront your monsters, have faith in yourself and do not run, because through the trials we face lie the gates to salvation.

Solar Eclipse in Pisces- The Messiah Complex was originally published on Heretical Oracles

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