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smallraindrops-blog · 3 years

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Made To Break

Part two.

Warning: noncon/dubcon sex, yandere, talk of death. No beta. Read at your own risk.

Note: never wrote something like this before. Hope it was worth wait. Let me know if you like it! Enjoy!

Time dragged on, especially without your phone. You watched the clock, not able to pay attention to anything else.

The house felt different without the god inside. Your gut had been right the first night, he had been here the whole time.

You still regretted returning Hypnos his cloak, it was the only thing keeping you warm in the drafty house.

You debated trying to escape but you held off. Where would you even go? There was no one else who could help. Even if Hypnos was keeping you trapped, he could be the key to getting your dad back.

Also you're pretty sure Hypnos would follow you to the end of the world and then some.

Maybe if you just play along for now, you could show him the truth later when the spell doesn't work on you and he would be forced to admit you weren't the one he was looking for.

"Just one more day." You told yourself.

That's what Hypnos told you, "And when time gets close to twilight, make sure you are by his side." He said, locking his cloak in place.

You agreed, "Is there anything else I could do?"

Hypnos grinned, and tapped his lip, "How about a kiss good-bye?"

You rolled your eyes at him even though you were charmed by his cheekiness and shook your head. You knew that if you responded to his flirting, it would make the letdown worse.

"Oh well, can't blame a guy for trying." Hypnos said before he vanished before your eyes.

You had a sinking feeling of realizing that you wouldn't have been able to outrun him.

💮

It was in the middle of night during another round of tossing and turning when you realized something wasn't right.

There was a humming under your skin, like little jolts of energies that never stop moving.

Maybe you couldn't fall asleep due to stress or maybe you got used to Hypnos being around. He was the god of sleep, he must have played some role in helping you rest.

You crawled out of your bed and went to the window and stared out to the backyard. Little red poppies stood out from the blanket of snow, gently swaying in the wind.

Magic was real and Hypnos was as well, he felt human when you touched him. His grief when he talked about his lover sounded real. And he seemed hellbent making sure not to lose you.

Is it really that impossible that you were someone in a past life, a deity even? It sounded like something out of the fantasy books you read as a child.

You pressed your forehead against the cold glass, an welcomed sensation. You didn't want to admit it. Not to yourself at all.

But something in you has changed or is changing you just don't know what yet.

You just hope you don't lose yourself in the process.

💮

You were in line for coffee when the thought came. It was some honey glazed pastry you just happened to notice and thought 'Hypnos would love that especially with his sweet tooth.'

You froze, how in the world would you know that? You don't even know if the god could or want to eat.

You rubbed your eyes, it was the lack of sleep you told yourself.

You got to the hospital at the end of dusk, a coffee and a breakfast sandwich in hand. You took a big bite, trying to finish it before getting to the elevator.

It was early but you wanted to be here, even if Hypnos couldn't help, you wanted to at least be with your dad for what time he had left.

You slipped the coffee, grateful for the warmth. After getting in the elevator, you tabbed your foot nervously. Even the last bite of the sandwich couldn't calm your stomach.

You almost didn't see them when you stepped out, had you not glanced to the left you would have never seen them at all.

"Mrs. Johnson?" You asked, even in your anger at your ex, you still liked their mom. She mothered everyone and she always made sure to have your favorite cookies when you visited. She turned to face you, her blonde pixie hair was unkempt. Her red and puffy eyes widened in surprise. You tossed the coffee in the trash can as you made your way over.

"Oh my god, Y/N?" Mrs.Johnson sniffed, "Are you here to visit?" Even her voice sounded rough.

Your heart dropped, "For my dad, I don't know if they told you but he is in a coma right now."

"Oh honey. I'm so sorry, I didn't know." She hugged you tightly, her rose perfume was a comfortable smell in the hospital. She took your hands, her tears still flowing. You tried not to roll your eyes, of course your ex wouldn't even care enough to tell their mom, the sweetest person ever.

"Why are you here?" You asked worried for the poor woman.

"Something happened to (Ex/N), they were out partying and I don't know. Their roommate thinks they hit their head and haven't woken up since. It's the oddest thing, they couldn't even find where the brain bleed was. Or any marks." She shook her head, "it doesn't feel real."

You gasped, not able to make sense of her words. "Like they just went to sleep?" You asked, feeling like you've been dropped in ice.

She nodded, not saying anything.

"How long ago?"

"Two days or so, late during the night." She replied, she didn't notice the dread on your face. Did Hypnos use your phone? You had a feeling he was the one who took it but there was so much going on you had forgotten about it.

"Can I see them?" You asked, you need to see with your own eyes. Surely, this had to be a coincidence.

"Of course, hon."

💮

You had fully planned on never seeing your ex again. You kept meaning to block them but You weren't ready yet because you didn't want to admit you wasted your time.

You stared down at them, at the tubes, at the heart rate monitor. And You knew (Ex/N) was paying the price for your inability to block them.

You didn't love them, not in a way a person should love another you think. But you cared for them and wanted them to be happy. It wasn't until the cheating started, that it got bad.

Mrs. Johnson sat down in the chair and held their child's hand. Her face showed her heartbreak and every time there was twitch, there would be a hopeful look in her eyes only for it to die when nothing happened.

It was just like your father's coma.

You closed your eyes, anger boiling inside your chest. At yourself more so than Hypnos.

How could you been so stupid?

💮

You stared outside the window. It was the first clear day in weeks and the blue skies with the fat, lazy clouds seemed so more vivid than you remember.

Your father's heart monitor beeped steady and true. You couldn't look at him, guilt and anger was warring in your chest.

You had brought in the story Hypnos weaved for you. You didn't know how much was truth or lies. You think it was a healthy mix of both and it made it so much harder to know what really happened.

You covered your face with your hands, trying to make sure the tears didn't come out.

How could You get out of this? You saw some of Hypnos' powers, and you knew that it was the tip of the iceberg.

You couldn't stop thinking about the book, the warnings that you didn't see. This was a god that had once put the world to sleep, and you couldn't see a reason why he wouldn't again if he didn't get what he wanted.

it felt more cruel that he was playing games with your life, with all their lives. It would have been kinder to just kidnap you and leave everyone else out of it.

You looked up at the clock, just a few more hours left to go.

You really wished you brought your bat.

💮

Twilight was beautiful, even with the city skyline. You paced around the room, waiting for a change or for him to show up.

You almost didn't notice, too deep in your anger.

Your father's hand twitched, and you paused, not wanting to get your hopes up. Then his head turned to the side and you rushed to him.

"Dad! Oh my god, dad." You touched his arm gently, not wanting to spook him. His eyes opened up groggily, his head turned to you. He didn't react to seeing you but you weren't worried.

"I will be right back, I'm getting a nurse." You rushed out, giddy with relief.

💮

He doesn't remember you.

Your own father doesn't remember you.

You collapsed in the chair, the doctor tried to calm you down but you couldn't hear anything over the buzzing in your ears.

You knew. You just knew this was Hypnos' doing. Your hands tighten into shaky fists on your knees.

How fucking dare he do this. You gave him a chance and this is what he does.

Without a word, you stormed out the room.

💮

You don't remember getting in the car or the drive home. You knew Hypnos would be waiting for you.

He wasn't going to stop, you could feel in your bones. He would do to you in every single life you live and he won't care the cost it will take.

You slammed the car door shut, not brothing to hide your presence. You stood in the cold, uncaring how bitting the wind felt against your skin. Snow was still on the ground and little red poppies peeked through, bright against the snow.

Your breath came out in white puffs as you stared at your home. For all you knew this would be the last time you ever see it.

You took a deep breath, gathering what strength you had left.

It was time to face the music. To face him.

💮

You stopped in the entryway, not wanting to get closer than you had too. You could see even in the dark that the books were gone as well as the horrible eye and words. The one thing that lit the room was a single candle on the side table.

You looked at the other walls and saw pictures of you had been taken down. Fear tightened your throat and you stepped into the living room. Your eyes darted around but there was no sign of Hypnos.

You stepped into the living room and after a moment, you walked to your bedroom.

You whimpered when you opened the door. Everything was gone. The bed, the desk, all of it.

You took a step backward and another without looking away from your room.

Your heart stopped when you bumped into a warm chest. His arms wrapped around you tightly and his cheek pressed to your head.

"It's time to come home, Y/N." Hypnos said, tightening his hold to the point you couldn't breathe. Or scream as you watched the world you once knew vanished.

💮

You kicked and twisted in Hypnos' arms. "Let me go." You gasped, "I can't get air, please."

He loosened his hold but you were too busy gulping for air to care. You pushed away from and he allowed you to, unconcerned about you escaping.

You tried to steady yourself only to stumble, Hypnos grabbed your elbow.

"I'm sorry I forgot it takes some getting used to." Hypnos said. "You should have seen my brother the first few times. He used to get sick all the time."

"Don't touch me." You snapped, jerking away. You've been here before, the sound of water rushed to your ears. You turned to face him, to tear him a new one but when you saw him, you were shocked into silence.

Hypnos smiled, and pointed at his head. Two white wings had appeared out from his head and in the middle of his forehead, a single red and gold eye stared back. "So tell me Y/N, what is more surprising; the wings or the eye?"

You shook your head, "What the hell, Hypnos?" Your voice cracked. "Is this what you normally look like?" At least before he looked closer to humans, just a little odd looking. This was something else.

"Hhm, not when we first met but after the... you know, I just have these sometimes." Hypnos shrugged, his golden eyes on you.

"How could you?" You asked and Hypnos tilted his head at the question.

You took a step forward even though all you wanted to do was run. "I know what you did to my dad, to (Ex/N). Was it all a ruse? A game to you?"

Hypnos scowled, "I really don't appreciate hearing that name."

You stamped your foot, "Unbelievable! Is that all you have to say?"

"Oh no, the person who hurt someone I love is now having to suffer the consequences. How sad for them." Hypnos rolled his eyes at you. You have never wanted to choke someone more.

"His mother is suffering, just like how my dad is!" You yelled, hating how helpless you felt.

You walked closer, you knew he could grab you again but you needed him to listen. But Hypnos spoke before you.

"Your father isn't in pain, if anything I fixed it. He doesn't remember you or his wife. He will live out the rest of his days without you but you know humans are so quick to replace family."

Hypnos sighed, "I really did try to help him for your sake, Y/N. I felt sorry for him since he and I were both familiar with this kind of pain. But he already messed up once, I couldn't trust him not to try something else."

You were silent for minutes before you spoke. "You said you would never hurt me."

"And I haven't." Hypnos replied, he almost moved closer, wanting to comfort you.

"Liar." You spat out the word. "You have done nothing but hurt me since you showed up."

You glared at him,"You may have not touched me but you had caused so much hurt to everyone around me."

"And what makes you think I should even care about those humans?" Hypnos hissed, he grabbed your arm but you willingly went along with his tug. Words were your weapons now. You glared up at him, mere inches between you and him.

"Because I do. That should be more than enough for you." You licked your lips, "This isn't the first time we had this fight."

His gaze sharpen, golden and hard like a predator. "No it isn't." Hypnos agreed.

You could tell he wanted to ask more questions, to know exactly what you started to remember. Good.

"I had held my part, Hypnos. I agreed to come, to do whatever you needed from me." You said, "in a twisted way, yeah I guess you did help my dad even if it hurt me. And you warned me." You closed your eyes for a moment before meeting his again.

Hypnos stayed silent, his eyes watching you.

"But none of the other stuff had to happen. Mrs.Johnson was good to me, she was the closest thing I had to a mom." You whispered.

You didn't know how but something in the humming inside of you knew Hypnos would bend to you. His biggest weakness had always been you.

You laid a hand on his chest, "Listen to me, I'm willing to stay. I want to stay." You thought it would sound like lying but it didn't. Your heart twisted because you weren't lying and you knew it.

Was it really that easy to walk away from your human life?

"But I can't have you hurting people just for the sake of revenge. That is not who I am and that used to be you too." You murmured.

"Things changed Y/N." Hypnos murmured back. Just like before, he covered your hand gently.

A faint memory rises from the depths of your soul. Of Hypnos admiring your hands, always touching or holding them. You took a breath, not yet you thought to this other side of yourself, not yet.

"Then change again, Hypnos. For me." You pleaded.

"It's not that easy." But his tone was softer, you just had to push a little more.

"You once put the whole world asleep because you loved me. You became softer, kinder because you loved me. This is nothing to you." You keep your tone soft, not willing to break the quiet.

His eyes, all three of them, closed in defeat. "Okay...Okay Y/N. Just answer me this, do you love them?"

"No." You said bluntly. "They were a friend once but even though you were a jerk, I felt more with you than I ever did with them."

Hypnos nodded, the third eye opened again while his golden ones stayed close. "Good." He held a palm up, and a small dark, almost black mist formed, you could faintly see your ex and Mrs. Johnson.

The mist swirls quickly, and it changes into a soft white cloud. "It's done. They will wake up, and they will live." The cloud faded away and Hypnos dropped his hand.

His golden eyes opened and looked at you.

"Thank you." You told him. You cupped his cheek and he pressed into your hand with a sigh, his eyes closing again. "Darkness' sake, I've missed you." Hypnos said.

You leaned into him and hugged him. After a moment, he hugged back, resting his chin on your head. Neither one of you said anything for a while, just holding on each other.

"What do you remember, Y/N?" Hypnos asked, and you shrugged. "Honestly, just small bits here and there. I remembered you like honey."

Hypnos hummed, "I do. Is that all?"

You yawned, "No, sorry, it's mostly just me going by instinct or this feeling of deja Vu." You pressed into his chest. "I'm really sorry."

Hypnos rubbed your back slowly and you felt your body relax against his. This was so much nicer than anything you ever felt before.

"Come, let me show you where we can get some rest." Hypnos spoke, something was off about his tone. But you followed along anyway, too tired to even think.

💮

"You said anything, right?" Hypnos asked as you wandered around the cave. There wasn't much of anything. You see baskets of pomegranates, onions and other stuff in one room as Hypnos gilded you past it, his hand on your lower back.

Books were stacked on a desk but weren't what caught your attention. There was a bed, big and piled high with blankets and pillows. It looks like what exactly a god of sleep would want.

"Oh wow, this is the biggest bed I've ever seen." You walked toward it, "What side do you sleep on?"

You walked around the bed, keeping one eye on the god. "The middle but you can pick whatever side you want."

"O-oh." You stopped at the realization that of course this would be the only bed. There would be no reason for him to have a guest bed.

"You didn't respond to my question, Y/N. You agreed to do whatever I needed you to do, correct?" Hypnos said calmly as he held something in his hand. A small glass bottle.

You walked toward him, your heart racing at the almost predatory look he gave you.

"I. I did, yes, to get my memories back." You stopped just out of his reach. "Will that thing help?" You pointed down at the bottle

"In a way." He said and you stared at him.

"What are you not telling me, Hypnos?" You stood your ground. "I thought we were getting past this."

"You're right. It's going to hurt, just a bit. But it will help restore you." Hypnos held it up between his fingers, inside the liquid looked like water.

"Why do I feel like you're downplaying it?" You muttered. You took the bottle and popped open the cork.

You sniffed but it smells sweet, almost too sweet.

"Make sure you get every last drop, Y/N." Hypnos said, his golden eyes watching your every move.

You knew he wasn't being honest about something but you will have to deal with it later.

"Well, bottom up." You swallow every last drop. It didn't taste bad or anything at all, not even like water.

You felt his hands on you could do anything else. He pushed toward the bed and that when it hit you. A wave of dizziness made the room spend and he laid you down.

"Oh, I don't like this." You moaned. You didn't notice until it was too late, that he had pulled off your shirt. His hands felt too warm against your skin and you tried to push him off.

"I know, my love." Hypnos comforted, "I wouldn't do it if I didn't need to."

"Why?" You slurred, "I thought we were…" but you couldn't continue. The heat and the dizziness was too much for you.

"We are. We really are. But If I don't do this now, I won't get a chance until you are older and I can't risk you dying on me."

"I wouldn't have said no." You closed your eyes.

Hypnos pressed a kiss against your forehead tenderly "Yes, you would have, my love. You would want us to have more time. This way I can make sure we will have nothing but time."

His hand slided down your pants and past your underwear. He kissed you on your mouth, and pressed down against you.

You couldn't stop the gasps you made against his mouth as he rubbed you with his fingers. The pleasure you felt was far more intense than what you were used to.

"You even respond the same as you used to." Hypnos told you. "Blood and darkness, I could watch your face all day like this."

You hide your face in a nearby pillow out of spite and embarrassment. "Shut up." You moaned, hips arching against his touch.

Hypnos yanked the pillow away and tossed it out of your reach. He grabbed your chin to kiss you again. You met his kiss with as much force as you could.

"I hate you." You tried to pull away but he just pulled you back into another one. You could the heat building inside you along with the humming, the always moving energy built inside of you

And Hypnos himself consumed you,all of you and you wanted him to. Fates help you but you did. You wanted him to make you whole.

You moaned against his lips, tears running down your face as you arched and peaked.

You collapsed against the bed, Hypnos pressed kisses against your neck and collarbone.

You closed your eyes, shaking with the heat. "Hypnos, what did you give me?" You sobbed. The heat nor energy still haven't died down yet.

"Just gimme a moment, Y/N." Hypnos pulled away from the bed, and you sobbed again.

He came back and shushed you. His hand pulled down your pants, yanking your shoes along off them. You flushed at your nudity.

Hypnos loomed over you and he pulled you into a kiss. You buried your hands in his white curls as the kiss deepened. His knees nudged your legs apart as he broke the kiss.

"If I have to be nude, so do you." You tugged at his cloak. Hypnos laughed, "No, later."

His fingers worked you open and you found yourself spreading your legs more.

"You're so good, so so gorgeous. Y/N, do you know how good you look like this?" Hypnos priaised. And you somehow just flushed even more.

His fingers left you and he crawled toward you. "Kiss me." He demanded and you obeyed, the kiss you gave him was sweet and slow. He hummed against your lips and you felt him pushed inside you.

Your head tilt back to the bed with a gasp. You shook as the moment seem to stretch out, a endless moment of being taken.

You never felt so full and damnit, you hated how good he felt against you. The soft clothes gave you goosebumps as the brush against your bare skin. You sobbed as he moved inside you leisurely, like he had all the time in world.

"Hypnos, please." You begged. Your fingers curled against his tunic, trying to ground yourself against the feelings.

He shushed you, "I've been waiting for you for so long."

"I'm sorry, Hypnos." You whimpered as pleasure built back inside of you.

"Don't be." Hypnos groaned, his hips started moving quicker. "Losing you killed me, Y/N. I never thought I would have this again."

You were lost for words and just pulled him into another kiss, hoping that it will say everything for you.

During the kiss, his hips snapped against you quickly, fingers digging into your thighs.

"I love you Y/N. Fuu- I love you." Hypnos murmured against you. In a whisper, "I love you, Hypnos."

He moaned and you feel the hot wetness inside you. You trembled as you followed him.

You stared upward and the humming had become overwhelming. This was it, you thought weakly.

You don't remember closing your eyes.

💮

Later you wake up, Hypnos sleeping next to you and holding you tightly. He looked so much younger like this.

You could remember everything. The people, your role as an deity, Hypnos, of loving him and he loving you in return and... and your death.

You grimaced as you rubbed your chest, you could feel the sharp burning pain. Of magic that kept from dying like a normal deity.

But now you were reborn in a way.

There was strength in you too now. A sureness you didn't have an human. You blinked at Hypnos' sleeping face. The third eye was gone but you wasn't sure what it meant exactly. You both were going to have relearn one another.

You reached up and touched one of the wings. It twitched at your touch, and you smiled, amused.

"I missed your smile." Hypnos said, his voice rough with sleep."I think it worked, Y/N." His golden eyes studied your face. You stared back.

Then you reached up and flicked him on the nose. "You should've been honest from the start." You said.

"Ow! And I was, it's not like it was my fault humans won't listen." Hypnos scowled at you.

"Not that. About restoring me. I understand why you wouldn't be but you need to more honest with me from now on. Especially since I know it cost you some of your powers." You said as you pulled Hypnos closer. Tears had filled up in both of yours and Hypnos' eyes.

"Thank you. For bring me back. I felt something was missing in me since I was born but you found it. You found me." You kissed him, chaste and sweet.

Hypnos sobbed and held on to you tightly, his face in your neck. "It worked. It really worked."

You kissed his head, your tears matching his. The both of you weeped with joy, with sadness and relief of having each other again.

"I'm so sorry. It was my fault. I should had gotten there sooner." Hypnos said roughly.

"It was no one fault, we didn't know." You brush his curls to smooth him. "I don't blame you."

He nodded against your neck and you held him.

After a few minutes, he pulled away to look at you. His hands cupped your face. You cover his hands with your own, smiling.

"I still haven't told you everything." He said softly.

"That can wait." You murmured. "We got all the time in the world."

"We finally do, huh?" Hypnos said, and you meet him a long, slow kiss.

It was good to be home.

#hypnos x reader #hades hypnos #yandere

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eldritchqueerture · 3 years

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Hello! This is a project for @summer-in-the-archives-event that I worked on with @horizonindigo! We came up with the idea together and based our individual works around the poem I wrote, included in the fic. You can find their absolutely amazing art here!!

I freaking loved working on this one and I got more and more excited as we progressed. I also surprised myself with the poem itself a bit, definitely didn’t expect it to end up quite as cool, if I may say so myself. It was incredibly fun to write.

Big shoutout to @sunflowers-and-frogs for beta reading, I love you bestie <3

I would like to thank all the mods that made this event possible! It’s my first time taking part in anything like this and it was really, really fun, so THANK YOU <3 Love you guys :3 Anyways, enough of my rambling kdfjgkjsdfg

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: M/M Fandom: The Magnus Archives (Podcast) Relationship: Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Characters: Martin Blackwood, Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist Additional Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Canon-Typical The Lonely Content (The Magnus Archives), Kissing, Excessive Tea-Making, Set in Episodes 159-160 | Scottish Safehouse Period (The Magnus Archives), Poetry, Love Confessions Warnings: self-esteem issues, typical Lonely content, discussions of free-will and determinism, graphic kiss

Summary: As Martin fights the remnants of the Lonely's influence on their ride to Daisy's safehouse in Scotland, he focuses on his feelings for Jon to keep him tethered to reality. He watches Jon be himself in the safety of the cottage, share these small intimacies of domesticity and the words come to him as a poem weaves itself into the pages of his notebook...

He feels the taste of salt in his mouth, as he looks out of the car window at the rapidly falling away landscape, covered in the darkness of the night. He feels Jon’s presence next to him, focused on driving but glancing every so often at him with concern. Martin feels like he should say something, somehow fill the silence that has befallen them, but no words ever find their way to his mouth. He stays quiet, watching the trees pass them by, trying to ignore the anxious churning in his stomach. He’s always been pretty good at filling awkward silences with chatter; at least before the Lonely. Now… he can’t help but feel bothered by Jon’s presence, even though he did all of this for him, even though this is what he’s wanted all this time; it’s like a splinter, prickling at his mind, almost causing him physical discomfort. He swallows and feels the salty taste on his tongue; he discards the thoughts and tries his best to breathe through the discomfort, instead focusing on the sensation of Jon’s warm hand on his.

Martin used to be the warm one; he’d always been generating heat and his mind goes back to the early days in the Archives when the basement was cold in the winter and both Tim and Sasha used to gravitate towards him with their respective cups of tea during breaks. Now his whole body is cold, the chill of the ocean breeze and fog having settled in his bones so deep he thinks he’ll never feel warm again. The thought isn’t sparking any emotions in him though. It’s just a thing that he’s learned to accept, just as the fact that he’ll always be alo—

“Do you want me to put on some music?” Jon asks with another one of his glances. Every time, he raises his eyebrows a bit, and tilts his head to the side; Martin expects the concern in his eyes, but he sees something else there as well. He’s been afraid to put a label to the expression for the fear he’s reading him wrong, but the bolder part of his mind tells him it’s fondness.

Jon’s hand is warm, and his thumb grazes the skin of his palm just a little, as if not sure he’s allowed to. Martin looks down at their hands and feels warmth spark in his stomach; he smiles.

“I’m sorry I’m—I’m not really good at the whole, uh… small talk thing,” Jon adds with a flush, turning his head back to the road. “I should probably be talking about something, though, to, uh… to keep you here. I suppose.” He visibly cringes at his words.

“It’s—It’s fine, Jon,” Martin chuckles, and Jon relaxes, fixing him with a quick smile of his own. “I’m just… you know.” He looks down at their hands again and has a brief feeling they belong to someone else. Not him. Never him. “I’m not quite… out of that. Yet.”

Another look of concern. Martin feels heat prickling at his cheeks and he’s a little bit glad, because at least it’s a feeling. He interlaces their fingers and looks out the front window.

They spend the ride in relative silence. Jon tries a couple more times to start small talk and fails; they stop at a gas station at one point and Martin takes out his notebook when Jon disappears inside the station to pay for gas. He flicks through it and his eyes stop at an unfinished draft; he started writing it shortly before Peter took him down to the Panopticon, but he’d only managed to get a few first lines down. Despite still feeling the cold in his bones and his mind being clouded by the remains of the fog, words come to him, and he starts scribbling. He continues to do so even when Jon comes back with tea and an assortment of snacks, blushing just a little bit when Jon shoots a curious look at the notebook. He doesn’t ask and Martin is thankful for it. He’s not the sort to show his drafts to anyone, especially to the subject he’s writing about.

It’s 1am when they arrive at the cottage; they’re both exhausted and they quickly take their bags inside and lock the door. The cottage is small and practical, just Daisy’s style; it’s also quite dusty from months of abandonment. Martin yawns as he opens one of the bags to get the essentials. They should leave unpacking and cleaning for the next day.

He hears Jon’s footsteps on the wooden floor coming back from the initial run of the house and he turns to tell him that, but the somewhat sheepish look on his face stops him in his tracks. Has he ever seen Jon look sheepish before?

“So, uh, obviously this was Daisy’s safehouse when she was, well… Avoiding people,” he says, not meeting Martin’s eyes.

“I hope ‘avoiding people’ doesn’t mean killing them in this context,” Martin snorts, not sure if he’s entirely joking. The humour is lost on Jon, however, as he looks at him confused for a moment before he processes Martin’s words.

“Oh, no, no, I-I don’t believe she, uh… She just slept here.” Jon shifts awkwardly. “And that means there’s uh, there’s only one bed.”

Martin’s eyes widen and his lips form a little “Oh”.

“Of course, if you’re not comfortable with sharing, I can just take the couch, you need some proper rest and I’m used to running on low sleep” —Jon averts his gaze as he speaks. He grabs his bag and walks over to the couch, and Martin wants to stop him talking and just say that they should share the bed, but his voice seems to have left him at this crucial moment. He just stares as Jon places the bag on the couch and looks back at him, aware of the silence. “Martin?”

Martin swallows, a familiar cold freezing his toes. He feels the damp sand underneath his bare feet and a chill runs down his spine. He blinks and tightens his grip on the bag he’s been holding. This is real, he is real, Jon is real.

“You need good rest too,” he finally manages to say, and he’s surprised by how clear and normal his voice sounds; it makes Jon relax a bit. “We should share the bed, if-if you are comfortable with that.”

A small smile appears on Jon’s lips and a warm feeling fills Martin’s stomach again; he knows the smile is for him.

“Okay,” he says softly and picks the bag up.

They manage to keep the awkwardness of it to the minimum; they’re both very tired and at one point it just doesn’t matter anymore. Jon hands Martin a separate blanket and he pushes the disappointment down into a void inside him where he keeps feelings to come back to when he’s alone. It would be foolish of him to hope for cuddling since they haven’t talked about anything yet.

He expects to fall asleep as soon as his head touches the pillow, but he finds himself awake in the darkness after goodnights are said (Jon’s voice sounds so soft and tender Martin has forgotten all about his earlier disappointment). He’s laying on his back, eyes closed, and he feels Jon’s presence on his right. His breathing is steady, not yet slow enough to indicate sleep, but calm and relaxed. Martin peeks out through half-lidded eyes – he hasn’t gotten used to the darkness as much yet, but he can see Jon laying on his side, facing him, his eyes closed and his hair loosely framing his face. One of his hands rests close to his head on the pillow. Martin blinks, fully opening his eyes now and smiling softly. As his vision clears, Martin notices Jon frowning ever so slightly, and he wonders if the faint lines between his eyebrows smoothen when he’s asleep.

“Is watching people sleep a usual activity for you?” Jon whispers with amusement as he opens his eyes and Martin gasps with surprise and looks away, feeling heat prickle at his cheeks.

“Wha—uh, no! No, of course no—Sorry, I—” He rambles, and he thinks he might just die from embarrassment when he hears Jon laugh quietly.

“It’s fine, Martin.” He shakes his head with a sigh. “Really. I-- Sorry, I thought a joke would, um… lighten the mood somewhat.”

Martin risks a look at him and wonders if the red on his cheeks is visible through the darkness. Jon looks at him with that expression again, something Martin would very much want to classify as fondness if it didn’t feel so impossible. But now that he thinks about it… Would it really be thatfar-fetched? Jon had gone into the Lonely just to get him out. Would he have done that for anyone else? Martin rolls his eyes at himself in his mind, of course he would. He did go into the Buried, and it was for Daisy, a person who has threatened him multiple times, kidnapped and almost killed him. If Jon was ready to lay down his life for her, out of all of them, it shouldn’t be surprising he would do the same for his assistant; it says nothing about his feelings on the matter.

Martin’s memories of the Lonely are hazy. He remembers the cold, the dampness, and the loneliness. He remembers his thoughts, the lonely ones, and how they felt both alien and familiar at the same time. He remembers the comfort, the feeling of fitting in, but also the pain and the fear, just before they were numbed by the cold and the fog that made him forget. And then suddenly, Jon was in front of him, looking at him with desperation on his face, tears in his eyes glowing with a green light. Was it Jon calling for him, or just the Beholding?

“What are you thinking about?” comes Jon’s voice and Martin realizes he’s been staring into the air for a while. He blinks and looks back at Jon.

“Uh…” He searches for words before he gives up on trying to come up with an excuse. His voice is quiet when he speaks. “Why did you do it?”

Jon blinks at him a couple times and rises to lean on his elbow, to better look at Martin.

“What do you mean?”

“The Lonely,” Martin says, not meeting his eyes. Jon is wearing a blue t-shirt with a logo of a band Martin doesn’t recognize; the shirt is loose and it uncovers one of Jon's shoulders which would probably be distracting if Martin’s mind wasn't chilled by the remnants of the fog. “Why did you come for me?”

Even without looking at him, Martin sees Jon’s forehead ripple. A while passes as Jon searches his face and the thought that he shouldn’t have asked starts creeping up to Martin’s head. Shouldn’t have brought any attention to the subject, he should just be glad, he should—

“I care about you, Martin,” Jon says in a very gentle and quiet voice, like he’s afraid anything louder would take away the meaning of his words. Martin looks up at Jon and the hint of that intense blush from before makes it back to his face. “You’re… You matter to me. You will always matter to me.”

Martin can’t stop a small smile appearing on his face and Jon mirrors it.

“Thank you,” Martin whispers, feeling a warmth settle in his chest, finally driving the cold away.

“Anytime.” Jon lays his head back down and settles back with the right hand near his face. “Sleep well, Martin.”

Martin closes his eyes contentedly and he curls up on his right side, facing Jon, as if trying to keep this warm feeling from escaping his chest too soon.

“You too, Jon.”

---

Martin wakes up alone in an unfamiliar bed, the smell of foreign covers filling his nostrils and for a second he panics. He opens his eyes and the memories come back to him; their late arrival at the safehouse and laying down to sleep next to Jon.

He sits up, looking at the space Jon had occupied. It’s vacant now, just the curled up covers he left behind, but it manages to bring a blush to Martin’s cheeks, nonetheless. It feels so… intimate to know that they slept next to each other. It makes him feel warm and cosy.

Martin gets up and goes to the bathroom before he finds Jon in the kitchen. He’s humming quietly as he finishes cleaning the table and he looks up when Martin enters.

“Good morning, Martin.” He smiles and Martin’s afraid he’s going to melt. He takes a quick look around and notices that their sparse kitchen supplies are mostly unpacked, and the kettle is already on the stove.

“How long have you been awake?” He asks; some of the shock must have made it to his voice because Jon looks amused.

“Two hours or so. I’ve always been a morning person.” He shrugs and finishes cleaning the table. “Tea?”

A smile lights up Martin’s face and he gets swept up by the familiarity of the activity, while Jon busies himself with fixing up some breakfast. As both of them work in the kitchen, Martin notices the casual brushes of their skin and touches of the shoulders. He doesn’t know if he’s doing it consciously or if it just happens naturally, but he knows that Jon’s open demeanour is drawing him closer than before. He wonders if he’s been like this ever since he woke up from the coma, and there was just no one to appreciate it.

The morning is relaxed, the casual conversation flowing a lot smoother than the day before, and after breakfast they set out to clean the whole cottage and go down to the village to buy some actual supplies. The village is small, but the local shop provides all the essentials they need; for a moment Martin forgets about everything outside of that village and shopping for groceries with Jon, as if this is their life now, in the Scottish Highlands, living together in a cottage. They talk about cooking dinner, and the cows they passed on the way, and Martin thinks he could get used to that.

The bubble bursts when they finish up and Jon decides to call Basira. She picks up after a while and updates them on the absence of both Jonah Magnus and Daisy. Basira says she’ll send some statements up to them when the Institute stops being an active crime scene, and a shadow passes over Jon’s face. Wrapped up in a conversation about their taste in dinner dishes, it was almost too easy for Martin to forget food isn’t the only sustenance Jon needs. He finds it easier to forget things ever since the Lonely. They walk back to their cottage in silence, Martin grabbing Jon’s hand as soon as he lets go of the phone.

When they get back, Jon declares he’s going to take care of unpacking and cooking, and even though Martin knows Jon to be stupidly stubborn, he’s surprised by the strictness with which Jon insists he sit back and relax. Martin doesn’t really complain; he’s spent his entire life caring for others and, to be honest, it does feel rather good to be on the receiving end for once. He watches Jon from the couch for a while, before he takes out his notebook and looks over the poem he wrote in the car.

Wisps of mist conceal my eyes

A lone indulgence to lose one's face

And soothing a part inside that cries

With chilling sadness and numbing grace

The steadfast rhythm of waves ashore

As ocean breeze leaves a taste of salt

The words forgotten, erase what I swore

Until I hear your voice once more

I wondered many times what it might be

That we finally took to calling "us"

What would be left if we broke free

Of dread and horror's eternal grasp

The Eye looms aloft, ever-present dread

Watching all, eternal lids apart

You made your choice unaware you were led

By strings of web, against your heart

Jon starts humming under his nose in the kitchen as he cuts something on the board; the water in the kettle boils slowly and fills the air with a quiet whistle. Martin smiles while shooting a subtle glance at Jon; he seems to notice his gaze and falls quiet, but a smile lights up his face when he sees the fondness on Martin’s face. For all this talk about Jon “losing himself” in the role of the Archivist, this seems as human as you can get. Martin never favoured the approach the other archival staff took to the knowledge of the significance of Jon’s position, and he often wondered how they could look at him and see a monster. Of course he made bad decisions, but so did everyone. They’ve seen or read about so many avatars giving into the powers that fed them and yes, maybe Martin is biased, but Jon was nothing like them. They’ve all been caught in this huge web of statements that turned real; the more they struggled to break free the more tangled up they became, and it wasn’t Jon’s fault that he ended up in the centre of it. He knows Jon tried to make right choices every step of the way. Can you really blame a human being for failing to completely resist something that’s beyond mortality and human reality? One way or another they ended up here, together, and yes, maybe the Eye and the Lonely are still looming as very tangible threats, and Jonah Magnus is nowhere near being stopped, but at least they’re together now. Martin remembers thinking the Unknowing was the endgame, the last chapter of this horror for them, and he remembers the hopelessness of their story getting a bad ending that essentially pushed him into the Lonely; now he feels a different kind of an end approaching – he dares to be hopeful. Maybe everything works out in the end? Maybe, if they were safe and happy, it wouldn’t actually be the end of the world.

Martin looks down at his notebook and starts writing, sticking the tip of his tongue out in concentration.

What is a monster? Where is the line

That would separate us from the world

All I know is our paths align

And we together can battle the cold

You cut through the curtains of mist and See

The green glow fades when our eyes meet

My lips form a soft and quiet plea

To be loved has never felt so sweet

To be loved is a new feeling for me

I only know how to love from one side

But with you I hope we can once be free

Maybe ignore the whims of the tide

Although I know we're not nearly through

I taste and savour your voice, your breath

If only for a moment, we can start anew

And I will follow you even to death

As he stares at the last word of the finished poem, his hand with the pen hovering over it, he registers that his eyes have watered a bit. He blinks the tears away quickly as Jon sits down on the couch next to him, looking at him with a gentle worry. Martin looks up at the two mugs of tea he’d placed on the table.

“Did you make tea?” He asks with mock bewilderment, and Jon scoffs at him.

“I know how to make tea, Martin.” He nudges him with amusement, that gentle worry not quite gone from his eyes. “What are you writing about?”

Martin falls quiet, pressing the notebook to his chest in a knee-jerk reaction.

“Thought you didn’t like poetry,” he huffs out a laugh that’s only a little bit self-conscious. Jon shrugs, reaching out for his mug and taking a sip.

“I don’t understand it. And yes, I have been known to dislike it at times, but… Maybe I could be swayed to give it another shot.” Jon rolls his eyes fondly and looks at Martin out of the corner of his eye, a look that says ‘for you’. Martin grins, heat pricking at his cheeks once again.

“You see, i-it’s all about emotion.” He places the notebook gently on his lap face down and reaches for his own mug. “You w-want to put all of your emotions into words in a-an artistic way, that has a rhythm and, uh, and feels alive. And you want your, uh, your readers to feel that, that emotion through your words.”

Jon listens attentively and his eyes aren’t leaving Martin’s face; at one point Martin gets distracted by it and forgets where his explanation was going. Jon’s gaze has always been intense, in different ways throughout the time they’ve known each other. At first it was judgemental, the gaze of his boss, full of unmet expectations; then it was piercing, watchful and suspicious; as time passed, it seemed to gain more and more weight of the Beholding, something Tim always complained about. After Martin had joined Peter Lukas, the rare glances he got from Jon were full of yearning that Martin didn’t understand at the time; didn’t want to understand. Now, it’s that gentle fondness, interweaved with something intangibly sad and Martin feels an urge to hug him, to bring him close to his chest and never let go; to bury his face in Jon’s hair and protect him.

They move to place their mugs at the table at the same time and snort, amusement quickly turning into a fit of laughter. Jon throws his head back a little with it and Martin wonders if he has ever seen him laugh so openly before. He didn’t think it was possible for him to fall in love with the man even more, but once again, his heart proves him wrong. He stares at him with a lovestruck expression and thinks they should really talk about it. Martin doesn’t know where to start though and Jon seems to be thinking in a similar direction because his expression shifts into gentle seriousness.

“Martin, I…” He starts and bites his lip. “I need to apologize.”

Martin straightens a little; it’s not exactly what he expects.

“I—The way I used to treat you…” Pain and guilt flash through Jon’s face as he looks away for a moment to gather his thoughts. “It was not okay. None of it was okay. And I’m—I’m really sorry for that. It doesn’t—I know it doesn’t change anything that happened, but I” —he sighs. “I really am sorry. I hope I can, somehow, uh… somehow make it up to you.”

Martin reaches for Jon’s hand, and he looks down in surprise; Martin sees his eyes start glistening.

“I’m sorry for everything that happened to you.” He continues in a whisper and his eyes are locked on their touching hands. “I’m so sorry about the Lonely. I’m sorry that you’re trapped in all of this with me, and I would understand if you decided to leave—”

“Jon.” Martin squeezes his hand and Jon’s eyes shoot up to look at him.

“I’m sorry, that’s not an apology,” he sighs again. “I just… I’m sorry, Martin. About everything.” His other hand grips Martin’s. “I’m glad you are still here. I’m—I’m so glad, you d-don’t even know,” he laughs.

“I think I do.” Martin smiles gently. “Thank you for saying that. I’ve—I've forgiven you for a lot of it a long time ago. A-And the rest just isn’t your fault.”

Jon frowns.

“The Lonely was always there,” Martin shrugs. “Peter Lukas was just… a catalyst, I think. But now I have you.” His finger grazes the outside of Jon’s palm and his heart flutters in his chest when he sees that small smile appear on Jon’s face. “And you can’t be blamed for Elia—Jonah’s games. We’re all just… a bunch of people who didn’t know what was going on until it was too late.”

Jon’s eyes fall as he nods slightly.

“He’s still up to something,” he says quietly.

“Figures,” Martin laughs bitterly. “But we’re here now. And frankly, I don’t really want to think about him when we’re finally…” The word ‘together’ gets stuck in his throat, as if it would breach this fine line of ambiguity they’ve drawn between themselves. Jon seems to fill it in and his eyes land back on Martin.

He’s never wanted to kiss him more than he does right now. Jon's eyes are wide and glistening with something that looks suspiciously like hope, and his fingers gently graze the outside of Martin's palm. Warmth spreads in his chest and his eyes flutter a little, not breaking the eye contact. He wants to pull Jon close to his chest, to run his fingers through his hair and feel his breath on his own skin. To really feel like he's there, next to him, with him.

Before he can follow through with any of that, something sizzles in the kitchen, loud in the silence, startling them both.

“Food!” Jon chuckles slightly before he jumps to his feet and rushes to the kitchen, while Martin snorts and follows him. Jon stirs the pan with curry and sighs with relief when he sees it's not burned. He turns down the heat anyway and checks on the rice.

“Jon, this smells amazing,” Martin says, peeking into the pan with cheese and spinach. “I didn't know you could cook.”

“Well, contrary to the popular belief I was a functional human being. For a while,” Jon snorts and leans against the counter to look back at Martin. “It's Palak Paneer, my grandma taught me when I was a child.”

“It looks fantastic,” Martin grins, and Jon rolls his eyes in mock exasperation.

Even though the moment's lost, the remains of the feeling can be felt between them as they prepare the plates and take the food to the table. They easily fall back into usual chatter and, as soon as they’re finished, Martin jumps to wash the dishes. Jon relents after extensive affirmations from Martin that he's alright and he can definitely take care of a couple dishes in the sink, and he drops onto the couch with a content sigh instead.

Martin finishes up with the dishes and dries his hands on a towel.

“Do you want some tea?” He asks and hangs the towel back on the rack. When there's no response, he turns to the couch. “Jon?”

Something sinks in his stomach when he sees that the object that consumes Jon’s attention is the poem he’s finished; he scratches his neck, as his cheeks take on a pink tinge. “Oh…”

He walks up to the couch, unsure, trying to gauge Jon's reaction. His face seems tense, he squeezes the notebook in his hand so hard his knuckles go white, and his eyes are focused at one point on the page.

“Um... Jon?” Martin asks weakly, his heart drumming in his chest so loud he's sure both of them can hear it.

Jon jumps to his feet, startled, and looks up at him with eyes wide, like a deer in the headlights. Martin instinctively raises his hands in a placating gesture, as Jon registers his presence, looks down on the notebook in his hands, and quickly puts it on the table as if it stung him.

“Martin, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to look, it was just there and—”

“Hey, Jon, it’s alright!” It’s maybe a little not alright, since the poem is nothing short of a love confession and a wish Martin had no right to assume would ever be true, so Jon reading it is less than ideal. Martin rushes to gently place a hand on Jon’s shoulder but when he recoils from the touch, Martin withdraws his hand, cursing everything about himself.

“No, I, uh…” Jon runs his hand through his hair, eyes darting between Martin, his hand, and the notebook frantically. “I shouldn’t have— uh, it’s—it’s your private business, what you write about, so—”

Martin is sure he’s tomato red on the face by this point and hopes against hope that the afternoon light filtering through the curtains obscures it just a little. Jon, on the other hand, doesn’t have the embarrassed blush that usually darkens his cheeks; instead he breathes fast, his hands shaking ever so slightly. Martin sees him hunch just a little, making himself smaller.

“Um, yeah, I, uh—” He starts fidgeting with his fingers. Did the idea of—of love frighten Jon so much? He was stupid to leave it out in the open and now Jon knows, and it’s not how he feels, so he hates him… “I’m sorry.”

Jon’s eyes snap to him, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

“For what?”

Martin huffs out something like a pained laugh.

“Th-That’s not exactly how- how I wanted to tell you.” He wrings out his hands and shoots Jon a pleading look. What’s done is done and the only thing he can hope for is for Jon to let him down easy and never speak of this again.

“Tell me?” Jon looks down at the notebook again and there’s the worry again, stark on his face. He breathes out, slowly, and looks at the floor. “I don’t—I don’t even want to think this is a possibility…”

Martin doesn’t need to imagine what it would be like to be stabbed, if he wanted to - he’s pretty sure the acute pain of his heart shattering in his chest is close enough. His mind tries to catch up to the emotions, slow them down just a bit, because something seems off, and isn’t this a weird way to reject someone you must have known had a crush on you? But his throat tightens with the swell of pain and shame and Martin blinks away the tears welling up in his eyes.

Jon sighs and plops down on the couch, hiding his face in his hands and pushing his glasses up to his forehead.

“We d-don’t have to talk about it, if—if you don’t want to,” Martin says quietly. He sits down next to Jon, careful not to touch him in any way, and puts his hands between his knees.

Jon lets out a bitter laugh.

“Isn’t that what they—the Web would want? Just… mindlessly follow, go with the flow until something… irreversibly bad happens?”

Martin turns to Jon with a frown.

“Wh—What?”

Jon looks at him with something glistening in his eyes and Martin can see the lines of pain and misery written on his face like they belong there.

“The web,” he says faintly. “Strings of fate. I—” He lets out a breath. “Was I just being manipulated this whole time? Was I ever really—Did I ever have a choice?”

“Jon... what are you talking about?”

“You—You said I was...” He reaches for the notebook and points at a verse with his finger. “’Made your choice unaware you were led by strings of web against your heart.’ How—W-Why did you say this?”

Martin stares into Jon's green eyes with concern, yet parts of his heart start to weave themselves back together. However confused and worried Jon seems to be, none of it is directed at Martin; he looks at him with desperation, almost pleading, and he realizes they’ve been having two different conversations at the same time.

“Oh-Oh, God, Jon, I-I didn't mean—I just, it's a-a metaphor, just that, you know,” he takes a breath. “It does remind me of a web, the-the way we got caught up in Elias' plans.” He looks down, his cheeks burning as he remembers why Jon would get caught at this specific phrase. “I'm sorry for, uh, using that, it was just the first thing that came to my mind and—”

Jon exhales next to him and Martin risks a look up. The uneasiness isn't gone from his face but he relaxes just a little bit, enough to stabilize his breathing.

“I'm sorry for this… this whole thing, Martin.” He gestures at nothing in particular and it's his turn to look at the floor, as if it's all of a sudden the most interesting thing he's ever seen. He starts fidgeting with the notebook. “I'm just—What if it’s true?” His voice goes higher at the question and he closes his eyes. Martin squeezes his arm. “What if I am just... Just a puppet? An inhuman, helpless puppet in the hands of—Of some spider pulling the strings?”

A tear rolls down Jon's cheek and Martin grabs one of his hands. It’s small and still shakes a little; he tries to put all the protectiveness he feels into this small gesture. Jon doesn’t recoil this time, instead taking a moment to watch Martin’s hand clasp around his.

“Jon,” Martin starts softly. “You're still you. You're not some—Some spider puppet that can't make choices.”

“But what if—”

“You've made a choice to go into the Lonely for me.” Martin bumps their knees together lightly and Jon looks up at him. “I don't suspect any webs would need me alive to push you into it. It was You.”

Jon looks him in the eyes and Martin barely stops himself from reaching up to his face to wipe away his tears.

“Or it just makes us think that we have a choice but are ultimately helpless against fate and everything we do is determined by intricately crafted circumstances,” Jon whispers. “Maybe free will is a lie.”

Martin blinks.

“Jon...”

“Maybe I was never able to stop it. Any of it.” Jon’s voice grows more horrified and even though his eyes are directed at Martin's face, he seems to be looking somewhere past him. “Maybe nothing we try to do really matters.”

“Jon.” Martin’s voice gains a bit of force, even though he feels all but sure. “What do you see?”

Jon frowns. “What?”

“Look at me and tell me what you see?” The force is gone; the sentence sounds more like a feeble suggestion than a request, but Jon's eyes refocus on Martin's in a frown of confusion.

“What do you mean?”

“We're here now,” Martin says quietly. “And yeah, maybe our decisions are all predetermined or whatever. I still think it matters that we try. I think our experience matters. And you're not a-a monster without free will, Jon. You care about people, and you’ve sacrificed a lot for other people. You've made your own choices and, no matter if they were good or bad, they were still yours. And I think that matters.”

Jon blinks at him for a moment, then his shoulders slump with a sigh and he interlaces their fingers. Martin doesn’t miss it and he feels warmth in his chest.

“I've always been afraid of—of my will not being my own anymore,” he confesses quietly. “Of, uh... of not knowing the difference.”

“I get it,” Martin nods. “If it’s any consolation, I see a lot of Jon in you still.” Jon looks up at him with surprise and Martin gives him a half smile. “I see a very changed Jon but it's still Jon.” He strokes Jon's palm as his heart picks up the pace. “The same Jon I've first fallen in love with.”

Jon exhales softly, his face caught in a soft surprise, and Martin smiles around the dull ache in his chest.

“You don't have to say anything. I'm sure you've known for a while, but I just... I wanted to say it.”

With every second that passes in silence, however, Martin's cheeks grow hotter, and he concludes that this might have been a mistake.

“I-I'm sorry. M-Maybe I shouldn't have said that, I… I don't want things to get weird or anything, so, uh, we can, we can just forget—”

“Martin.” Jon says his name in a soft and kind of inquisitive way that makes his heart bounce around and transforms the ache in his chest into swirling butterflies again. Martin looks up and Jon’s head is tilted to the side, his face still wet with tears, but he notices something hopeful glitter in his eyes. “I love you too.”

Martin frowns, suddenly wondering if he isn't dreaming. Is Jon really saying what he thinks he is? Did he hear correctly? Maybe he misheard—

“I have for a while,” Jon's voice is still quiet and soft. “I didn't want to say anything because I thought it was too early after the Lonely and you might not feel this way anymore, but...”

Martin swallows, acutely aware of how loud his heartbeat is. He squeezes Jon’s hand and smiles slightly.

“I... I didn't know,” he whispers, not trusting his voice to cooperate.

“As soon as I woke up from the coma, I wanted to tell you,” Jon says. “I thought I was too late; that it took me too long to stop denying the feelings I had because I didn’t know how to deal with them, and I'd missed my chance.” He laughs bitterly.

“So that’s what it was about,” Martin whispers, as Jon's actions towards him throughout his time as Peter Lukas’ assistant start falling into place. Jon looks at him with a frown, so he adds, “The ‘let's gouge out our eyes and escape'.”

Jon scrunches up his nose and clears his throat.

“Yes, well. Yeah.”

Martin chuckles quietly.

“I don't think I would have lasted in the Lonely if I understood then. But then again. It didn't really matter in the end. It didn't help.”

“But it was your choice,” Jon echoes Martin's words from before and their eyes meet again.

“Yeah. It was my choice.”

They stare into each other's eyes for a moment, losing track of time, before Jon smiles slightly and looks back at the notebook.

“I really am sorry for not asking your permission, though,” he says. “I got so caught up in the metaphor I didn’t even finish it.”

Martin blinks, the warmth from his chest spreading to his cheeks again.

“D-Do you want to?”

Jon smiles softly, this new smile that Martin has only seen in the past couple of days, always directed at him.

“If you’d let me.”

Martin needs to look away, unable to handle the affection in Jon’s eyes. He mumbles an ‘okay’ with a smile that’s not entirely under his control and gets up.

“But I am making that tea whether you want it or not, waiting for someone to finish reading something is a torture.”

He hears Jon laugh as he heads back to the kitchen.

When he comes back with two steaming mugs, Jon is waiting for him with a smile and his nervousness dissipates with his next words.

“I like it,” Jon says. “Apart from the, uh, web metaphor, obviously. It's hopeful.”

“Y-You do?”

Martin swallows; the pleasant tingling in his stomach is back. He places their mugs on the table and reaches out to join their hands again. Jon intertwines their fingers immediately and caresses the outside of Martin’s palm with his thumb.

Jon looks down at the verses again and smiles softly, almost sheepishly, a familiar blush darkening his cheeks.

“I—I don't know if there would be anything for us outside of. You know. The fears and all that,” he grimaces. “At least, for me. But, uh…” He looks at Martin again with a hopeful expression that makes Martin melt a little, and he gently caresses Martin's cheek with his free hand. “I really like the thought of it.”

Martin's brain might be short-circuiting at this moment and all of his thoughts take form of fuzzy static.

“Me too,” he says, suddenly breathless. Jon's hand rests cupping his cheek and, are they a bit closer than they were a second ago? Jon's gaze slides down Martin's face to his lips and he feels he might faint right there and then. He doesn't, instead gathering up his courage to take a breath.

“Can I kiss you?” Jon asks first and Martin feels his lips form a grin.

“Please,” he breathes out; the next second their lips meet, soft but urgent, desperate and sick of waiting. Martin's hand dives into Jon's soft hair, fingers scraping the delicate skin of his head and earning him a low sound from Jon's throat. They pull each other closer and find a rhythm to lose themselves in for just a moment; the sensation of Jon's tongue swirling in his mouth, of his slender fingers on his cheek and his neck, the pressure of his body against his chest; all of it making Martin dizzy with happiness.

Martin pulls away when his lungs painfully remind him breathing is still a necessity and he opens his eyes to look at Jon – His soft lips, his nose, his pockmark scars, and his eyes, green yet with no trace of Beholding in them. He takes him in whole, with all of his flaws and all of his virtues, and he feels seen in return, seen by the man he loves and who loves him. The weight of it all hits Martin like a crashing wave and he pulls Jon in for a tight embrace.

“I love you,” he whispers against his shoulder, and he feels Jon's arms tightening around his torso.

“I love you too, Martin.”

#tma #the magnus archives #tma fic #summer in the archives event #niki.writes #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #jonmartin

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vagrantblvrd · 3 years

Note

Obi-Wan raises Luke instead of Owen and Beru, please.

Oooh, nice.

Because I am That Person I want to do the Satine lives AU (I haven’t finished Clone Wars yet, but one of my friends has Strong Opinions about similar AUs).

Obi-Wan doesn’t leave the Jedi Order to be with her,because Duty, and all that with the war, but perhaps once the war is over he can?

But then Anakin falls to the Dark Side and it’s decided to separate the twins. Leia goes to Bail and Breha, and Obi-Wan is supposed to take Luke to Tatooine to be raised by his aunt and uncle, but.

Obi-Wan’s in his ship leaving Coruscant after losing Anakin the way he did and it isn’t a conscious decision really, that has him putting in the coordinates for Mandlore, doesn’t even register until his droid is like ??? and he sees what he’s done, and has this moment of oh, I didn’t mean to do that, did I?

He means to fix it, input the coordinates for Tatooine, a weavin winding path in case he’s followed, but stops to think about it.

It makes sense to take Luke there, no one would think to look for him, but the thought of leaving Luke, one of the last pieces of Anakin left to him to be raised by people who wouldn’t understand him leaves him with a bad taste in his mouth.

Regret, guilt, for failing Anakin so completely, and it’s like. Anakin has ties to Tatooine that someone smart enough might look into, might find Luke, but Mandalore? That complicated mess is all Obi-Wan’s now.

And it’s selfish, he’s being selfish, not wanting to give Luke up, thinks about the Order and attachments, but look where it got them in the end, you know? (His foundations have been rocked, shattered beneath his feet but if he thinks on it there were cracks, fault-lines long before that.)

So.

He calculates s winding, weaving course to Mandalore and goes to Satine where they raise Luke as their foundling, right?

They keep the whole...Jedi thing on the down-low, because ancient enemies but Obi-Wan and Satine’s inner circle know, because how couldn’t they?

Obi-Wan may go by a different name these days, but it’s close enough to his real name it wouldn’t take much thought to connect the two. Also, his face???

And Luke okay. Obi-Wan teaches him to control his Jedi abilities and such from an early age, but he couches it in games and play and all Mr. Miyagi with his wax on, wax off schtick kid of deal to keep Luke from accidentally giving away the fact he’s strong in the Force and so on.)

Meanwhile there’s an effort to dial back the animosity towards the Jedi, which meets with mixed results, because people. Also, also, over the years Obi-Wan encourages Satine to mend the rift between her followers and those exiled to Concordia.

Also, with mixed results, but with the Empire’s numbers growing it seems like a mistake to allow Mandalore to be divided.

They reach some kind of understanding, not entirely reconciled, but better than things were before.

In another meanwhile, Luke is being raised as a Mandalorian, and like Obi-Wan earns a set of armor.

But then!

The Purge happens, and in the chaos Luke is separated from Obi-Wan and Satine, the other Mandalorians.

He has his armor and a ship and the lightsaber that belonged to his father Obi-Wan shoved into his hands before they were separated.

Has to hide from the Empire because one thing Obi-Wan made sure he knew from a young age is that he couldn’t all ow himself to be captured by them, that they’d be looking for him.

(And on some lonely nights after the Purge when his nightmares seem more real than usual, some part of him wonders if the Purge happened because Mandalore refused to join with the Empire, or if someone found out about him?)

Anyway.

Mandalorians and the reputation for being fierce fighters and skilled bounty hunters and Luke is truly alone for the first time in his life. Little money to his name and his ship can only get so far before it runs out of fuel, and he needs ammunition and food to eat, and it’s just.

He finds work s a bounty hunter, and the first few bounties are part of a learning process. Thank goodness for his armor or he’d have been dead dozen times over the first month.

Still.

He’s been raised as a Mandalorian his whole life, maybe saw himself as an outsider because his Force abilities and the secrets Obi-Wan kept even from him, but he’s been training as a warrior his whole life.

(Pacifists, yes, but the galaxy is a dangerous place and perhaps more so for someone like Luke, so.)

Between the regular weapons and hand-to-hand and whatnot and Obi-Wan’s instruction with his Force abilities and his father’s lightsaber he’s quite the dangerous individual.

He keeps running into this Corellian smuggler and his Wookie co-pilot, and sometimes he turns a blind eye to their antics if he’s tracking someone else. (In return Han’s willing to let information slip to Luke, for the price of a drink or a meal, and of course he’d never say no to an outright gift of credits, so.)

There’s a miscommunication on a job, once. Luke after a bail jumper and this other Mandalorian with a silver helmet who wants the pilot Luke’s bounty hired.

There’s a bit of a fight, nothing serious before it occurs to Luke that the aforementioned pilot looked a little too panicky at the sight of the other Mandalorian to be fully innocent. (Also, it’s Mos Eisley. Innocent people are exceedingly rare here.)

It’s the first time Luke’s worked with another Mandalorian on a bounty, and it’s actually kind of nice. (Although he suspects the other Mandalorian may have ties to The Tribe, but it’s the least of his problems at the moment and the man makes for good company.)

Anyway, anyway, at some point Luke runs into Ahsoka - and he knows her. Obi-Wan and his secrets and she’s safe, she can help him.

At first she’s reluctant, because look what happened to Anakin, what if she’s resposnsible for the same happening to Luke? But he finds a way to convince her - stubborn like Anakin, if not worse - and she takes up his training where Obi-Wan left off.

She’ll lave from time to time because Rebellion shenaigans, and sometimes Luke goes along to help.

And then word through Luke or Ahsoka’s contacts about Leia being taken prisoner and important plans and they’re so far out they might not make it in time.

“I know someone who might help?” Luke offers, because he and Han are hardly friends (they kind of are though), and the Falcon is one of the fastest ships out there even if she doesn’t look like it.

So, side trip to Tatooine and Han is just “Oh, come on, you too? What is with today?” because Greedo and Luke being a bounty hunter and Ahsoka is super unimpressed.

Once Luke explains what he needs, Han is like “NO,” but Luke convinces him and Han reluctantly agrees (but then Jabba and that whole mess and it’s kind of a disaster getting off Tatooine but they make it so everything’s fine.

Before they leave though, there’s this weird hermit they run into and emotional reunions because Obi-Wan and he thought Luke was dead and what has he been doing? Also it’s very nice to see you again, Ahsoka, you look well.

Luke going up to the cockpit to give them privacy for their part of the reunion and sharing information and all that.

And then rescuing Leia and Luke in his beskar getting between Obi-Wan and Vader even though both Obi-Wan and Ahsoka are incredibly not happy about that, but some people there were just going to let the sith lord kill them, and Luke is just how about no???

(Satine would never forgive Obi-Wan something like that Luke’s sure, and according to Obi-Wan she’s back on Tatooine still, so.)

Leia gets rescued and the Rebellion’s down a few pilots and oh, hey, Luke’s kind of not bad at that whole deal?

Obi-Wan’s needed as a strategist - and honestly, no one wants him out of sight after the whole thing on the Death Star - and Ahsoka with her Rebellion Thing.

Han comes back to save Luke’s life and Luke destroys the Death Star and happy ending for now?

But Luke knows there’s something about Vader and Luke himself that has Obi-Wan and Ahsoka deeply worried. (When he thinks about it there are a few reasons why that might be, but he does his best not to dwell on it.)

Anyway.

The usual Star Wars shenanigans but with Mandalorian!Luke with his armor and whatnot.

Confrontations between Luke and Vader go a little differently because of Luke’s armor? But the hand thing still happens because parallels or some nonsense, idk.

(Anakin’s not the only one who has to remove their helmet on the second Death Star and so on.)

Leia has mixed feelings about the whole Boba Fett putting Han in carbonite because Luke’s used the same method on some of his bounties in the past. (The violent dangerous ones that posed a risk to him transporting them the guild, though, but it doesn’t matter to Leia at the time.)

After the destruction of the second Death Star there’s talk, idle, unsure about forming a school to teach the next generation of Jedi?

Because Force-sensitive kids and there must be a better way, a balance between the ole Jedi Order and a new one.

Until then, Luke is curious about the whole Jedi thing, goes looking for relics and whatnot. (Maybe does some bounty hunting every so often, because why not.)

Satine wants to go back to Mandalore, help her people if she can and Obi-Wan goes with her because not a lot of reason to stick around Tatooine otherwise.

And then!

This call for help through the Force and Luke following it to an Imperial light cruiser and Din being very, very confused at seeing a Mandalorian with a lightsaber?

Is it like Bo-Katan’s Darksaber? Will one of them have to change? So confused. (Also though, possible concussion from his fight with the Dark Trooper, but yes.)

“Are you a Jedi?” Din asks, feeling that it’s a valid question because Mandalorians and Jedis and ancient enemies????

And yet.

Luke is like, hey, it’s you! Because silver helmet and remember that time we got into a fight on Tatooine? But also, also, hello Aunt Bo-Katan and friends.

Mainly though, Grogu who is kind of losing his tiny little mind because Mandalorian? But also Jedi? But Mandalorian???

And then shenanigans in which Luke is like, huh, about the Darksaber and poor Din who wants nothing to do with it. His adopted mother who wants to help her people but afraid they won’t listen to her after what the Empire’s done them and is like.

Strangely convenient, but he’ll take it.

They stop by the closest New Republic planet or outpost to hand Gideon and whatever other Imperials are still on board over and then head to Mandalore.

Din is still so very confused, but it doesn’t seem like Luke plans to take Grogu away and he’ll take what he can get. (So sure Luke will take Grogu far away at some point, but tries not to think too hard about that.)

And then the whole working at calling Mandalorians home - Din is super unsure about being the new ruler of Mandalore, but once Bo-Katan and Satine have a chat about the fure of their world they’re like, “He’s perfect for the role.”

Just needs a little help, and with them and Obi-Wan and other trusted people to help him, something great could come of it.

Luke stays on Mandalore - his home more than anywhere else in the galaxy - and he and Obi-Wan train Grogu. Ahsoka too, when she visits.

Once Mandalore and its people are more settled there’s talk of joining the New Republic, right?

Leia as the New Republic’s representative, and Obi-Wan one of Din’s advisors, negotiators and it seems as though good things will happen there too.

But!

Also!

Luke who grew up on Mandalore helping introduce Din to it? Teach him about this world he’s never seen, but is important in its own way more than ever now.

And little Grogu and all that.

Keldabe kisses in a courtyard on a night when Luke’s meditating outside, Din restless after tucking Grogu in and happens across Luke.

Understands that Luke doesn’t follow the Creed the way Din does, but he was raised as a Mandalorian and Din’s seen him in his helmet more often than not and anyway.

Luke meditating in the moonlight and while Din was worried he might have interrupted, Luke opens his eyes and smiles, something about it drawing Din closer.

And it’s.

There’s been so much Pining, but this is Luke, and anyway, keldabe kisses, and Luke laughing at Din being so flustered by it, but Luke’s laughter is shaky, breathless and really, the man’s a hypocrite.

Still, the two of them stay like that for a little while longer.

#star wars nonsense #dinluke #anon #not!fic prompt #prompt fills #technically not a fic #vagrant fic #mandalorian!luke #but like with a ~twist #long post #Anonymous

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elenamiria · 4 years

Text

Contentment

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader The morning after spending the night together the two of you talk until you have to sneak away to get ready for the celebration on Naboo. Five years later you and Anakin sneak away to a speeder race and get caught upon returning by Obi-Wan.

Part 4 of my Obi-Wan series (which is still unnamed because I’m a mess)

Parts 1,2,3: Beating the Heat*(2.67k) - Dessert*(3.8k) - The Naboo Sun* (7.89k) Masterlist here Word count: 4.7k Warnings: Fluff, slight angst, smut - oral (m receiving, rough), dom obi, mild exhibitionism, unprotected sex, penetrative sex (fem!reader), praise kink Here we go again! I hope you all enjoy this chapter of whatever this fic ends up being called (I’m thinking pleasing heat but idk is that stupid, who knows.) Let me know if you want to be added or taken off of my tag list (for this work or all works) Tags: @fishswimbetterunderwater @blxwjobsforclones @lynnie51 @a-dorin

After your confessions to each other you had slipped back under the covers, intent on staying with each other for as long as possible. Slipping into a comfortable silence the two of you basked in each other’s presence content to watch the sun slowly cast its golden light in the room. Once the sun started to fully rise you knew you had to sneak back to your room before any of the council were out and about. Regretfully you started to pull away from Obi-Wan only for him to tighten his grip on you and haul you back into his lap with a playful laugh. You giggled and turned to smile up at him, he had an amused smile on his face that quickly turned to concern as you gasped and shot back up. “Obi-Wan! I have to tell you something”

Once you noticed his face you softly grasped his hand and gave him a soft smile, “Don’t worry, it’s nothing bad. But I believe we’ve developed a force bond.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes widened for just a second before furrowing his brow in thought, “Darling, what makes you think that?”

You took a deep breath before speaking, choosing your words very carefully not wanting to revive any negative feelings for Obi-Wan.

“When I was back on Coruscant and you were here on Naboo yesterday, I felt these emotions - strong emotions. They weren’t mine.”

You trailed off and Obi-Wan nodded in recognition, then something crossed over his face and he looked down. Voice low he asked, “So you know?”

You paused for a moment and whispered his name questioningly, unsure what he was referring to. When you received no response you reached across the gap between you to rest a hand on his shoulder, “I know what Obi?”

He looked at you, face filled with shame, “You know that I shouldn’t be a Knight!”

Confusion filled your face at his words and you thought back to the emotions you were feeling the day before. Your eyes widened as you looked back at Obi-Wan, who was looking back at the sheets again and you once again called out his name softly. He didn’t respond apart from his hand reaching to nervously tug on the padawan braid which was now absent and instead of letting it drop you moved your hand off his shoulder to weave your fingers together.

“Obi-Wan, I know what you felt that night and it’s nothing to be ashamed about. You witnessed something terrible happen to someone you loved very much so of course you would be angry. It’s only natural”

Obi turned back towards you, eyes hard as he muttered “Yes well I let that anger fuel me and it was more than that. If what you’re saying is true then you know I let hate drive me, I wanted to kill him. I think you know as well as I do that those emotions are not the Jedi way.”

Sadness had once again filled his eyes and you felt a small frown cover your face before you spoke again.

“My love, even though you felt those things that doesn’t make you any less of a Jedi. Even though we’re always cautioned about those as a path to the dark side and you used your feelings to defend yourself. Plus you are still a Jedi, you didn’t succumb to the darkness. You are not like the Sith, you know that you can still have darker emotions and be a great Jedi. Look at my master, he channeled those negative emotions into his fighting - you did the same thing.”

Slowly the cloud looming over Obi-Wan’s countenance lifted and he looked at you, biting his lip. He looked deep in thought and you remained quiet to allow him time to process your words. Finally he nodded and looking to you once more he offered a small smile. Leaning forward you pressed a soft kiss to his cheek and gave him a smile back.

“No one is more deserving to become a knight than you, not only did you defeat a Sith but you did it while using your emotions and you haven’t held on to them, you let them go. That’s a lesson so many of us are still trying to learn, Master Jinn would be very proud of you. Now, no more being down on yourself, Obi! We’ve got to get ready for the celebration and I’ve got to sneak out of here before any of the council are up.”

At this Obi-Wan laughed and followed you up off the bed. You fixed your nightgown so it looked slightly less rumpled and sighed deeply hoping no one was wandering the halls. Just before you left Obi lightly grasped your arms and pulled you into a chaste kiss. Breaking apart he whispered to you, “Thank you, Darling. I truly mean it, you’ve always been there for me and you always know just what to say - something I admire greatly. I’ll meet you when we have to go down for the parade.”

Stroking his cheek fondly you two shared another soft kiss before you snuck into the hallway. Returning back to your room was thankfully very easy as it was still early and it appeared no one had ventured from their room yet. Stifling a small yawn you decided you could chance a small nap and still have time to get ready, plus it would be best if your bed looked slept in. Though the beds were on Naboo were wonderfully comfortable you couldn’t help but think you would fall asleep so much easier in Obi-Wan Kenobi’s embrace”

Pulling your boots on and zipping them you stood back up and looked over your appearance before grabbing your robe and opening the door. When you walked into the hallway you heard voices coming from Anakin’s room, door wide open. You wandered into the room and the sight you were met with caused an affectionate look to cross your face. Obi-Wan was just finishing up shaving Anakin’s head, except for what would become his padawan braid, and the young boy was happily chatting away. Once he finished Obi-Wan brushed off Anakin’s back and shoulders to get rid of any remaining hair and he then passed the boy a folded tunic with the soft instruction to go put it on. Anakin scampered off to the bedroom you made yourself known. Stepping forward you moved to help Obi-Wan clean up the mess with a small chuckle of, “Well that has to be one of the sweetest things I’ve seen in a long time.”

Obi smiled up at you and nodded in agreement. He was about to say something in return when a small voice called out his name and Anakin stumbled out of the bedroom, tunic in disarray. You had to stop yourself from laughing at the poor boy who managed to get his arm stuck in one of the many loops of fabric on the tunic. Obi-Wan immediately went to help him and kind hands gently guided Anakin’s arms out of the tangle he had gotten in. You felt your heart swell at Obi-Wan’s gentle words and actions, if only the order allowed you to have children Obi-Wan would be a great father. He taught Anakin which pieces of fabric laid just so and helped him secure his belt into place before he stood up and backed away to make sure everything was indeed in place. Nodded to himself he then bent down again to quickly braid Anakin’s hair, officially marking him as a padawan. The moment was so sweet and you couldn’t help but grin so wide it hurt your face, you had never felt more at home than you did now. The moment was interrupted by a knock on the wall next to the open door and your masters voice echoing out that it was time to go to the celebration. At this Obi-Wan’s face dropped slightly in anxiousness. You were going to wait to ask him what was wrong on the way to the steps of the palace but Anakin beat you to it with a simple question of “What’s wrong Master Kenobi?”

Obi-Wan smiled and offered the boy, “Im just a bit nervous is all. I guess I’m still a little shaken by everything that happened.”

Anakin nodded sagely in a move that made him seem much older than he was before he responded, echoing your words to him from the previous day, “Don’t worry, I’ll be there for you no matter what!”

You chimed in with, “Yeah me too.”

And Anakin as well as Obi-Wan shot you big smiles. Obi-Wan rose to walk with Anakin and you to the door as he replied, “I feel much better knowing I’ve got both of you by my side, thank you my young padawan.”

As Anakin’s smile grew prideful it put some pep in his step and he was soon walking ahead of you and Obi-Wan. With a small grin you turned to Obi-Wan, “He’s right you know. You’ll always have us, no matter what.”

Obi hesitated for a moment, looking down, but when he looked back up you could tell he believed your words and the first truly brilliant grin you had seen since arriving to Naboo covered his face.

5 years later

“Shhh, Anakin! We’ll get caught by Obi-Wan, I don’t know how but I’m sure he’ll find us”

The 14 year old had to stifle a laugh as the two of you snuck back into the Jedi temple. You had caught Anakin sneaking out earlier to go into the city for a speeder race (a rather illegal one at that) and knowing it would be impossible to stop him you instead went with him. In the years since Anakin had come to the temple it was clear how headstrong the boy was and he had definitely mastered the art of sneaking out of the temple. You couldn’t count the amount of times Obi-Wan had gone searching for Ani in the depths of Coruscant to drag him back to the temple. You found it rather amusing that Obi probably knew just as much about underground racing in Coruscant as Anakin did. Your thoughts were interrupted by Anakin bursting in excitement as he recalled one of the more thrilling parts of the race, it was clear he was replaying the whole event over again in his head. This time it was you stifling a laugh as once again you hushed him, “I’m serious Ani, Obi-Wan will definitely find out-”

“Find out what exactly?”

At the amused voice echoing in the near empty hallways you and Anakin froze. Anakin’s eyes grew comically large and you bit your lip to keep from laughing at your hopeless situation. Anakin was the first to turn around and you followed shortly. Obi-Wan was lounging against one of the large pillars of the hallway, some Jedi you were for not even noticing him, his face was fixed in a stern expression but you caught the gleam of amusement in his eye. Anakin started to mumble out an apology before you stepped in.

“It’s my fault we were out, Anakin wanted to go and instead of sending him back to his room I accompanied him into the city.”

You flashed Anakin a small smile as his whole body relaxed slightly. There’s was a pause were Obi-Wan stared at you narrowing his eyes slightly before you added, “I am sorry...Master”

At the last word a smirk curled over your lips knowing how it affected Obi-Wan when you called him that and indeed you caught the way his eyes darkened, body tensing slightly. His gaze slid to Anakin before he stood straight up with a sigh of, “Very well, why don’t you retire for the night my padawan and I’ll see you in the morning for training.”

Anakin gave you a thankful glance before hurrying off towards his quarters. Once his disappeared from sight you turned back towards Obi-Wan who motioned you towards him and you closed the distance between you two. You were dangerously close to Obi despite the fact that the hallways were deserted around this time of night however you were still startled when Obi-Wan firmly gripped your lower jaw and hauled you around to the backside of the pillar. Enveloped in shadow he pushed your back against the pillar and a small annoyed huff of air left him before he spoke, “My sweet girl, what to do with you. Sneaking out with my padawan and not even having the decency to tell me. I was looking for you for hours.”

His dominating role left you breathless and you bit your lip letting a soft whine escape your throat, but you couldn’t help but question your lover “Why didn’t you just use our face bond to find me Obi?”

His facade fell slightly as he looked at you with a slight crease to his brow, “That would have been an invasion of privacy Darling.”

His care for you and unwillingness to cross any boundaries, even when it wouldn’t have bothered you in the least, warmed you body. You leaned forward attempting to kiss him but slipping back into control Obi shook his head before stating, “You don’t get to kiss me yet little one, I still have to punish you.”

A thrill shot straight to your pussy at his words and you felt your breath hitch too, “Punish me, how are you going to punish me Master?”

Obi-Wan groaned softly at the way you drawled out the title master and he glanced around either side of the pillar before hissing, “On your knees, little one”

Your eyes widened, faltering for a moment as you whispered, “Here? What if we get caught?”

A deep laugh filled the air around you as Obi-Wan trailed his other hand, which had been resting on the pillar next to your head, down your body to grope at your breasts over your brown tunic. A dark aroused expression covered his face as he spoke again, “What if we get caught? Well you’d certainly like that wouldn’t you? I think you wanted me to catch you sneaking back in so I’d give you exactly what you deserve and I think you want the thrill of the possibility of being caught right now. I bet if I snuck my hand into those pants you would be absolutely soaked for me. Now, be a good girl and get on your knees for me.”

You couldn’t deny that every word he spoke was true, your whole body tingling in anticipation. Biting your lip you made a show of slowly sliding to the ground, holding eye contact the entire way down. It was only when you settled on your knees that you let your eyes wander to the bugle barely visible in the dark light. Obi-Wan finally let go of your neck only to firmly grasp the back of your head. Leaning forward you nuzzled at the outline of his member pressing on his pants before kissing it and then trailing kisses down his inner thigh as you reached up to undo his pants. You pulled them down just enough to pull his cock free and your mouth watered at the sight. You decided to get right to it instead of teasing him and so you sucked his tip into your mouth, getting it nice and wet before you sunk his length further into your mouth. Obi seemed desperate for you as he tugged your hair slightly pulling you to take him deeper into your mouth. You started bobbing your head up and down slowly each time you tried to slip him deeper into your mouth, when he hit the back of your throat his hand pressed firmly holding you there. A small whine was muffled by his cock in your mouth and you heard the quietest moan before Obi-Wan growled out, “I’m going to fuck that pretty little mouth of yours and you’re going to take it sweet girl, is that alright?”

You nodded best you could and at your consent Obi slowly pulled his hips back before thrusting forward. He never fully pulled out before pushing back into the wet heat of your mouth and when it was clear you were taking him well he sped his pace up. His hand tangled in your hair encouraged your head forward to meet his thrusts and you were trying to keep your choking noises to a minimum as you reminded yourself that you were in the middle of a hallway.

Obi-Wan was quite a mouthful and you did your best not to scrape him with your teeth as he fucked your face, sinking as deep as possible. As you grew more confident you relaxed your throat and Obi-Wan was able to sink into your throat. At the feeling he moaned holding you there. Your throat spasming around him caused his hips to jerk and your eyes shot up to his face as you looked at him pleadingly, your oxygen was running rather low. Another moan slipped past his lips at your expression and he held you there for just a second longer before pulling fully back, you softly gasped for air, head turning slightly, and then a squeak left you as Obi tapped the side of your face firmly with his rigid length and a command of, “Open up.”

You felt your pussy clench at his words and obediently opened your mouth wide, he plunged his cock back in setting another harsh pace.

You couldn’t help slinking your hand down your body and under your pants to rub at your wet panties, a moan left you as you toyed with your wet folds and Obi’s hips stuttered once he realized what you were doing.

“Oh my desperate girl, couldn’t even wait for me to finish could you? So needy, so..” His words faltered as you took him back into your throat again and he forgot what he was about to say when you moaned. Bucking his hips as his head fell back in barely contained pleasure he came down your throat. You whined again as you swallowed down his hot cum and looked up at him as you frantically plunged two fingers into your pussy. You had just started a steady rhythm when Obi-Wan recovered and pulled out of your mouth. He tugged your arm gently and you removed your hand from your pants with a grumble before rising from the ground. He tucked himself back into his pants before guiding your fingers to his mouth to suckle the juices off your fingers. Pulling them out of his mouth with a pop he then captured your lips in a sweet kiss. Once he pulled away he whispered against your lips, “My quarters 10 minutes, I’ll take care of you darling.”

As he spoke his hand came to cup your heat over your clothing and a whimper left your throat before you nodded, repeating back ‘10 minutes’. He pressed another soft kiss to your lips and then he pulled away and after ensuring no one was there he strolled down the hall towards his quarters like he didn't just cum down your throat. You waited another minute before emerging from the pillar and heading the opposite way, taking the long path towards the living quarter, body thrumming with excitement. When you slid into his quarters exactly ten minutes later Obi-Wan stood up abruptly. You shot him a questioning look and he simply shrugged, there was no way he was going to tell you he spent the last five minutes trying to find an enticing pose for when you entered but then got too self conscious - hence him rising quickly when you entered. Shaking off his small display of insecurity he pulled you close to him once you were within reach and slotted his mouth against yours. You trailed your hands over his chest and started to work his clothes off his body, impatient and needy. When you broke apart again Obi let out a breathless laugh at your rapid pace, "And here I thought I was the one missing you. I really was looking for you all over." You laughed slightly as you smiled up at him and replied, "Oh no I missed you very much and I'm very eager to make up for lost time my love""Well, I can't argue with that" Obi chuckled as he started to undress you as well. Clothes were flung away from your bodies as your mouths collided again in a heated flurry. Once Obi had undone your trousers and pulled them down he teased at your still covered heat with his hand. At your delighted noises he slipped his hand past your underwear and rubbed at your wet lips. He made a satisfied noise at the clear arousal and he felt his length twitch as he started to harden again. Slipping two fingers into your drenched folds he pumped slowly before scissoring lightly, ensuring you were fully prepared to take him again. You pulled apart to nip at his neck and you bit at his shoulder as you moaned out, "I want to be on top Obi, let me ride you." Obi-Wan slid his fingers out of you and the two of you stumbled to the edge of his bed, lips locking again as if you couldn't bear to be separated. He sat down heavily on the edge and tugged you down onto his lap. You ground against his semi-hard length, coating him in your juices, and at your touch blood pumped to his cock rapidly. You gave him a few firm pumps before lifting your hips and angling him towards your entrance, Obi's hips gave an involuntary jerk and his cock slipped past your entrance and poked at your ass cheek . A breathless giggle left your lips at the blunder and you realigned him before sinking down slowly. You both moaned out as he drank in your warmth and you reveled in the stretch that you felt no matter how many times you took him in your cunt. Once you lowered your hips all the way and felt him bottom out inside you a small whine slipped through your lips and you nuzzled into Obi's neck, the feeling of being connected overwhelming you for just a moment. His hands gently trailed down your sides to grasp at your hips and gently started to pull your hips in slow circles. Your head fell back at the feeling and finally needing to move you started to raise yourself up and down his cock. At Obi-Wan's gentle moans of encouragement you picked up the pace, the firm slap of your thighs meeting his every time you slid down on him. You were grateful for the firm grip on your waist as Obi-Wan helped bounce you on his hard length as you could feel your thighs starting to burn. Leaning forward Obi captured your mouth in a searing kiss and quickly plunged his tongue into your mouth, asserting his dominance, while you made out he adjusted his grip, one hand sliding down to your ass in order to help you speed up your pace. As you broke apart his mouth nipped at your neck before moving to your chest and capturing a nipple, sucking slightly. When he pulled back he blew cold air on the spot wet with his saliva and your nipple hardened quickly, which he then teased softly with his teeth. Your hands which had been resting on his shoulders for leverage came to bury themselves in his hair. With the length Obi-Wan had let it grow to you were able to tug on his hair to direct him to your other tit, craving the attention. After giving your other nipple the same treatment Obi-Wan picked you up quickly to flip positions. Now standing above you it gave him a better angle to fuck into your wet heat faster and freed his hands to roam your body. As he picked up his pace his breath came out in short pants and in between breaths he stuttered out, "Sorry my love, I know you wanted to be on top, I just couldn't help myself" You were just as breathless as him and gave him a small laugh indicating it was fine, you could hardly find it in yourself to complain - not when he was pounding into you so deliciously. Your hand flew down to toy at your clit as Obi raised your legs to rest on his shoulders so he could get a clear view of you. Moaning loudly at the way your body jiggled every time his cock slammed into you he grabbed onto your hips once again, intent of making it so you couldn't walk without thinking of him tomorrow, and pulled you into him. Your other hand slid up to cover your mouth as you cried out loudly as you rubbed your clit, your orgasm coming quickly. Having been so worked up for so long your release was short but blinding. Your walls clenched tightly around his long hard cock and your whole body tensed, Obi-Wan felt your leg muscle tightening and as he continued his rapid pace, seeking his own release, he turned his head to press soft kisses to your calf. He also took over rubbing gently at your clit as your hand had become rather useless and he whispered to you comfortingly, "That's it my sweet girl, you're doing so well. You look beautiful cumming all over my cock like that, such a good girl." Whimpers flew from your mouth as you came down from your high and you raised yourself on your forearms slightly to watch as Obi plunged in and out of your heat. You trailed your eyes up his body to meet his and you bit your lip before moaning out, "You feel so good Master Kenobi. You're fucking me so well" Obi-Wan's head fell back at your praise and you could tell he was getting close from the way his hips faltered in his pace before speeding up again. You let out another small whimper, knowing just how to push him to cum, and you whined "Oh, Obi-Wan you're incredible, I love you so much. I'm yours, no one else would ever make me feel like this, just you!" At your words Obi pulled out to pump his cock quickly as ropes of white cum flew out of him to coat your body. Obi-Wan's orgasms were never quiet, the air filling with his moans and whimpers mixed with reverent whispers of your name as he milked every drop out of himself to drip on your beautiful stomach. When he finally came down from his high he was met with your soft smile and you couldn't help but whisper out, "You look so incredible when you cum." Obi-Wan blushed at your compliment and suddenly grew shy again, it was cute how dominant he could be but still grow shy around you. He didn't reply instead retreating to get a damp cloth to clean you up. When he returned you pulled him into a soft kiss, pouring your feelings into your bond and you felt him light up with similar feelings as he allowed his walls to lower for you. Pulling away you nuzzled your noses together, your force bond thrumming with feelings of love and you fell into your post sex routine easily. After being together for so long you knew exactly what the other needed. Tonight you settled against Obi-Wan, sitting in between his legs - back to his chest. You laid at an angle where you could look up at him as the two of you talked about your days, content just to be in each other's company. You pointedly avoided talking about your little excursion with Anakin to the city but you knew at some point Obi-Wan would bring it up to chastise you for encouraging Ankain's rebellious tendency but it appeared he would leave that until morning as a big yawn left his mouth. You chuckled and pressed a kiss to his jaw with the murmured suggestion of sleep. Obi-Wan nodded and lazily slid down under the sheets, taking you with him. You rolled off of him and to the side only to cuddle up against him, his arm slinging around your shoulders in a warm embrace. You sighed and closed your eyes and just before drifting off to sleep you thought 'I love you, Obi-Wan' and the last coherent thought you had before drifting off to sleep was him responding through your bond, 'I love you too darling'.

#obi-wan kenobi x reader #Obi-Wan x Reader #Obi-wan kenobi x you #obi-wan x you #obi-wan kenobi smut #obi-wan smut #star wars fanfiction #star wars smut

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xiakha · 3 years

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FFXIVWrite2021 Prompt #4 - Baleful

The winter winds on the Coerthas slopes seemed to never cease blowing. Their presence was also inescapable. Even in the stone-insulated warmth of Camp Dragonhead's innermost chambers, Alphinaud could pick out the distant whistling whenever he stopped to listen, and no matter how robust and crackling the fire in front of him was, no matter how many layers or blankets he was wrapped with at the time, the sound gave him an involuntary shiver.

Perhaps it was his fault for wearing an outfit filled with holes instead of something warmer on his first outing to Camp Dragonhead, and that chill that stole into his bones never left him since. Or maybe it was more psychological, knowing that, if he were to venture out of the relative safety of these walls, his own men were wont to descend upon him to take his head from his shoulders. For he was no Warrior of Light, he was but a would be princeling who decided he understood how the entire world worked before ever leaving his home to see it. It would be more useful for his political enemies to make him disappear forever, another scratched out footnote in the chronicles of the changing eras.

In his darkest hours, he wondered if his father was right.

As the winter deepened, he had begun to spend fewer of his waking hours brooding and more of them reading from the archives in Haurchefant's study. The commander of Camp Dragonhead held most of his meetings at his main desk in the foyer of the manor, only rarely retreating into the study to search the archive or to study some contract or other without interruption. So all other hours were yielded to Alphinaud's leisure. It was only here that he really began to understand the complexities of commanding.

It was mostly logistics. Having the right people in the right places at the right times, agreeing to have supplies delivered in a timely manner, predicting and accounting for shortages and casualties and finding the leeway to manage all of it, the plates required were many and all of them had to remain spinning. It was sobering to think that, with the climate of Ishgard so irreparably changed in the last five years, how much the city teetered constantly on the brink of failure as nearly all of the food production had to be relocated to the Sea of Clouds overnight. That first year after the Umbral Calamity was the first time in about a thousand years that something besides dragonfire risked bringing the city to ruin. Ice and Snow and Hunger were the names of the demons that year. And seeing that Haurchefant took control of Camp Dragonhead in the midst of this chaos and improved nearly everything across the board gave Alphinaud a newfound respect for the flamboyant knight.

As such, the young Elezen decided to do more than read through musty worksheets and tabulations. The Warrior of Light, when not fighting alongside the House Fortemps knights as a dragoon, pitched in where her strength was needed around the fortress. Tataru had picked up weaving and armor repair and cooking as a part of her duties. It was high time, Alphinaud thought, that he should join in.

* * *

Tataru stopped hammering away at the chainmail she was repairing and asked Alphinaud to repeat himself.

"Er, have you seen Ser Haurchefant around, Tataru?" The difference in height between the Lalafell and the Elezen seemed to accentuate Alphinaud's lost child nature, especially in this locale.

Tataru wiped her soot covered forehead with a soot covered begloved hand, "Oh, I believe he went down to the barn."

Alphinaud considered his options. He didn't want to start with working with animals. There were too many factors to account for. He also did not wish to shovel manure.

"Ah, very well. And Xiao? Where is she?" The Warrior of Light was assuredly also busy at work somewhere.

"Haven't seen her all day, but I heard she went down to the barn as well."

The supposed-not-princeling grimaced and wished that he had gotten to know the smallfolk better instead of spending his first moon at Camp Dragonhead sulking and reading archival invoices and worksheets. He hardly knew anyone else, at least who wasn't a soldier, by name. Oh he was grateful and gave generous thanks whenever he received anything or was taken care of, but everyone seemed to know his name and he was rarely given a chance to naturally learn anyone else's. To offer to help someone and having to ask for their name in the process felt like a betrayal of the principle he was looking to now follow through on.

So he was headed to the barn. As he labored alongside the Commander and the Warrior of Light, he vowed, he would learn a few names of the farmhands and shepherds.

As Alphinaud left, Tataru resumed hammering, then stopped. There was something she was forgetting. Wasn't today the day that the shepherds were to take some of the flock to slaughter? There shouldn't be work to do at the barn that would require the heavy lifting of both Haurchefant and Xiao.

She shrugged and continued hammering at the rivets in front of her.

* * *

Alphinaud opened the door of the barn with some difficulty. It was quite large and bulky and he found himself wishing he would get his growth spurt early. The warmth of the barn was nearly cozy in comparison to the bitter chill.

As he announced his presence, the sound of physical exertion halted. There was a bit of rustling and whispering, and Haurchefant's voice rang out from the far corner stall, "But a moment, Alphinaud!"

The Commander of Camp Dragonhead hurried over, bare chested and adjusting his pants. The sweat that coated him and his shortness of breath surely spoke of the intensity with which he labored. Alphinaud rolled up his sleeves in anticipation.

"Right, with whatever you're working on right now, I intend to lend a hand!"

A sheep bleated.

"Pardon?"

"I've spent far too long cooped up in that study. I wish to do my part around the fortress as Tataru and Xiao do. So please, let me join in! I don't mind if it's dirty or if I get sweaty."

Haurchefant crooked an arm at his waist and looked away with the expression of suppressing painful laughter.

"I appreciate it, dear Alphinaud, but I do not think this is your place."

Xiao waddled over, an oversized shirt hastily thrown over her body. Sweaty as well, but with more measured breathing, she tried her very best not to look directly at Alphinaud lest she shoot death glares at him.

"Ser Haurchefant, I insist. I mind it not if it's hard labor that leaves me sore in the morrow, I am as ablebodied as the next man!"

Haurchefant looked over at Xiao, mischeviously, "Well, my sweet, what do you think?"

Xiao shot Haurchefant a full death glare, to which Haurchefant threw back his head with roaring laughter.

When he had finished, he said, "I assure you, Alphinaud, we do not need your assistance in this, er, endeavor."

Alphinaud tilted his head, questioningly. There was clearly something here that he was missing, "Are you sure? Anything that would cause such exertion from the two of you would surely be lightened with another pair of hands, would it not?"

Xiao spoke up, "Please, Alphinaud, you're not--" The Warrior of Light was still in the process of learning the rolling tongue of Eorzean, having relied on the Echo for translation for so long, and thus hardly had the words.

"Indeed, there are certain works best done with two souls, well, at least in a stall so small." This earned Haurchefant a slap in the forearm from the Warrior of Light. "Why not help out in another way while we finish up?"

Alphinaud looked downcast, this wasn't turning out how he pictured it at all. He had imagined working alongside the rippling muscles of both Haurchefant and the Warrior of Light hauling crates or pitching hay. Or shoveling manure. It wasn't out of the question for him. Really.

But he would make the most of it, "Very well, how else can I help?"

Haurchefant snapped his fingers, "The shepherds will be refilling the fodder upon their return, why not make light their work and grab bales of hay enough to fill a stall?"

Now this was the heavy labor Alphinaud had pictured! He punched his hand like he had seen Xiao do many times before, "Excellent! I will begin forthwith!"

"There ought to be bales of hay in the shed across the grounds." Haurchefant pointed out the open barn door. "Worry not if the task seems grand, once our current task is completed, we will come to join you."

The young Elezen princeling, so worldly and knowing, rushed off with a determination he had not felt in a moon. The "labor" he was not to join in on pushed fully out of his mind with the thought of hay bales.

* * *

Haurchefant grabbed Xiao by the waist and swept her up for a kiss on the forehead. She reciprocated by latching on to him as she did before their interruption and kissing him on the side of the neck.

"I believe I've bought ourselves at least half a bell." Indeed, full grown men had trouble lifting a single bale, let alone carry one without help across the courtyard. "Shall we continue with our 'labor'?"

Xiao rested her head on Haurchefant's shoulder, taking in the feeling of his chest through the coarse fabric of the shirt, his shirt, that she had tossed on for modesty.

"The mood's gone, cold," she whispered in his ear, haltingly, "Warm me up again?"

Haurchefant walked over to the barn door with Xiao clinging on to him like some oddly indecent lizard on a tree and shut it.

#ffxiv #FFxivWrite2021 #FFxivWrite #story #wordvomit #implications #in which I put Alphinaud's naivety on full blast #warrior of awkward #haurchelust #dunking on alphinaud

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dalamjisung · 4 years

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happy ❀ kim seokjin

genre: angst, fluffy ending

word count: 10k~

pairing: reader x kim seokjin

description: being happy is the goal; but what to do when you don’t really know what that means? Maybe Jin can help...

Living in your neighborhood means quiet nights in, with nothing but the sound of light traffic and whispered conversations. It’s unique, and safe, and exactly what you were looking for three years ago, when you first moved-in; but now… now you miss some of that youthful excitement that usually came with late night hangouts and loud bustling streets. With work, and, well, living, you admit it’s been hard– no time for anything else but sleep and work some more. Being a worker on the rise with one of the most prominent Advertisement companies around surely compensates the constant tiredness, but you no longer seem to have a social life. You stopped running in the mornings, and taking late night walks at the park. You no longer have time to enjoy the street market on the weekends or watch a few episodes of Criminal Minds on Sunday. It’s been so long you did something just for you that you barely remember the rewarding feeling of self-care.

It is on a Monday morning– or maybe it’s actually Tuesday,– that you notice a suspicious line of people on the sidewalk, blocking your car’s door. You weave through them to get in and it hits you as you close the door, the waft of gingerbread and sugar smell coming from the newly open store where all the people seem to be going into. You roll your eyes in annoyance, huffing irritably as you start you car and hurry to work, where you have an early meeting with potential clients and this is your chance to show your boss you deserve the promotion more than anyone. You work long hours– possibly all hours, and yet you are still to be recognized for all you put into the company.

“Y/N!” Seojun shouts as soon as he sees you walking to the elevator. “Hey!” Laughing, you hold the doors open for him as he runs to catch it. The pile of paperwork in his hands almost covers his line of vision and you actually feel bad for your friend– the times that you had to run with thousands of files, and contracts, and scripts had been probably the worst times of your life. You never felt as powerless and unimportant as you did back then, when people used to ignore your name for the sake of getting their menial tasks done.

“Hey,” You smile, grabbing some files from him as the doors close. “How are you?”

“Stressed out,” He sighs, frowning. “Too much to do, very little time.”

The doors open just in time for you to help Seojun to his desk and then run to the meeting room. This is it; you are finally going to be able to pitch your idea you’ve been working on for almost a year. You are sure this project will take the agency to a whole other level, putting the newest talents under a spotlight for future investors, but when you tried to tell anyone about this before your promotion, they would just ignore you and wave you away so that you could do another daily, stupid chore. Maybe now, that you are finally growing in the company, you can finally bring the change that these young actors and entertainers need to really succeed in their career.

Everyone is there when you arrive and, smiling your best smile, you sit down next to the Head of Marketing. The director starts the meeting and people start presenting– profits, pitches, scouting,– and it takes time, but you patiently wait; you control yourself and wait for you turn… that never comes.

“Alright everyone!” The Director smiles and starts getting up. “That’s it for today. Great work, people!”

No one even smiles at you as they all leave, one by one, and it’s only when the room is fully empty, with the exception of you and your superior, that you speak up.

“Excuse me, sir,” You smile politely, frowning in confusion. “What just happened?”

“What do you mean, Y/N?”

“The project I’ve been working on for months, Sir,” You say, slowly trying to gather yourself. “I was supposed to present it today… you told me you’d talk to the Director.”

“Oh, that,” He chuckles and sits down again, facing you with arms crossed. You sigh, closing your eyes for just a second; it’s always been hard working under Mr. Nam– he’s always been known to treat his hoobaes unfairly, ignoring and mistreating them. “Don’t worry, I already told the Director about the idea. He already told us to go ahead with it and start getting a team ready.”

Well, that’s a surprise. You smile, trying to disguise your excitement.

“That’s amazing, Sir!” You gush. “When should I start getting things ready?”

“Ah, you see…” Mr. Nam sighs and gets up, getting a bit too close for comfort. His head levels down to yours and you whimper, a but scared with how this situation is quickly progressing. “You are not going to be a part of it. The Director put me in charge.”

“W-what?” Puffing out your chest, you try to put up a brave front, not ready to give up yet. “That’s not fair! I’ve been working on that for almost a year!”

“Yeah, but let’s be honest here, you’d never be able to deliver the result that is expected of this company, Ms. Y/N Y/L/N,” He murmurs, voice harsh and cold. “This project will take us to a whole new level, and you are barely a player here. Learn your place.”

“No, you can’t ju-“

“I can and I will,” He growls pointing a finger in your face. “We need this project, and we need someone who can properly lead it. Admit it, Y/N, you’re just a naive, scared little girl. I can’t have that ruining what is about to be our main source of profit for the next semester.”

“I’m just a… naive, scared little girl?” You whisper, frowning. “Why would you think you can do a better job with this project than I would? It’s my idea after all.”

“I have the experience,” He walks forward, forcing you against the wall. “I have the balls. What do you have? No one here knows you, Y/N. Now stop with this nonsense and go back to work.”

He smiles as he backs away eyeing you up and down.

“Marketing is all about criticism,” Mr. Nam says before leaving. “Better get used to it.”

Your knees give out just as Seojun walks in to prep the room for the next meeting.

“Y/N?” He runs to you, eyes wild and nervous. “Are you okay?”

You can barely catch enough breath to speak, lungs tightening and heart speeding just enough to make you feel dizzy.

“I’m perfect,” You respond robotically, looking up at your friend with a forced smile. Getting up, you smooth your clothes. “I have to run, but I’ll see you around, yeah?”

“What?” Seojun frowns. “I guess…”

Looking back, you can’t help and kindly look at the man that’s always worked hard and diligently.

“Oh, and Seojun?”

“Yeah?”

“Don’t let these people undermine you,” You chuckle sadly. “You are an incredible person. And you are worth more than these assholes.”

————————————

In between grabbing your purse and running out of the building, you barely remember getting home. Or more precisely, your building’s door. Something within you didn’t allow you to walk in just yet, and knowing yourself, it wouldn’t allow you to do so until your dilemma was resolved.

Quit and possibly find a worse job but be overall happier and have to erase all those years of work and start all over again,

Stay, put up with it, and maybe get somewhere, someday.

“For fuck’s sake,” You mumble, turning around and starting to walk. It takes a couple of minutes but it hits you even stronger than before– the smell of butter and sugar. Although there is no more mile-long line, you take a peek inside; barely lit, empty, and… well, messy.

But the smell. Something about the smell of warm butter and sugar guides you in, first knocking on the glass, and then smiling kindly at the young man running back and forth, with barely no time to properly look at you, choosing to scream from the kitchen a ‘we’re closed!’

“Oh, it’s okay,” Your eyes follow his tall form as he moves around. “Sorry to bother yo– are you the only one working here?!”

That makes him stop. And look.

His dark eyes meet yours and goddammit you haven’t seen a man this attractive in a long time. His broad shoulder slump forward and he smiles tightly, nodding.

“Yeah,” He sighs, dropping the cleaning supplies. “I barely had time to organize a team before opening, so it’s just me for now…”

“Ah, I see,” You mumble, blushing at your shoes. “Sorry to intrude, anyw–“

“Wait,” He squints at you before smiling a bit wider. “Are you looking for a job? Is that why you’re asking?”

You blink at him. One time. Two times. Three, four–

“Yeah.”

“Really?!” He is clearly excited, dropping all cleaning supplies on a table and removing his apron to show a grey hoodie and blue jeans, and now you think he is much younger than he looked before. “That would be amazing, I’m not gonna lie, you would be saving me so much time!”

“Uh, what if I don’t have any experience working in a bakery?” You look at him, a bit curious about this… process.

“It doesn’t really matter,” He shrugs. “Do you wanna sit? I can make us some tea and get some cookies out while we talk.”

“Oh, sure,” With your mind still reeling from the previous happenings of the day, you would love some comforting food right now. And nothing else, Y/N. You don’t even know if you’ll quit, don’t get ahead of yourself.

“Okay,” He says and he puts down two mugs and a plate of warm cookies. “Just to make you feel more at ease, you’d never be in a position in which you’d need to make food. That is all me, and I don’t really intend of hiring kitchen staff. I just need someone to be the at the frontline– taking orders, waitressing, keeping track of storage and so on…”

“Well–“

“I understand if you don’t want to,” His head falls on his hands. “The pay is bare minimum, the work is exhausting and overwhelming, and honestly I never expected the bakery to do this well during opening weeks, but here we are, two days in, and I already think I can’t do this.”

Taking a second to allow him to catch his breath, you just stare with wide eyes. Are you willing? Are you really willing to go back to all of those insignificant tasks; fetching things for others, serving others, everything for others? But wouldn’t it be the same if you quit your job? Wouldn’t you have to start over anyways?

Start over… that sounds just what I need.

“Well, I was just going to ask for your name,” You gulp, trying to calm him down. “Boss.”

Kim Seokjin. Jin for short, or else he’ll think you’re angry at him. A peculiar man, you’d say, but it’s too late now– this man is your boss. As you lay down exhaustion washes over you, and you almost forget to set an alarm for five in the fucking morning. You can’t believe you did this but you are too tired to actually worry about the consequences of your impulsiveness.

You have somewhere to be tomorrow morning and you’ll be damned if you don’t give it your all.

————————————

“Good morning,” You smile as Jin opens the door for you, flour in his cheek and messy hair all over the place. “How long have you been here fore?”

“Spent the night here,” He yawns. “Needed to get the dough ready for today.”

“Uh, couldn’t you have done that like… now?” You shiver a bit from the cold but as soon as you step inside the bakery it’s almost as if nothing could bother you ever again. The warmth coming from the kitchen and the smell that overpowers everything else embraces you like it will never let you go. You feel safe and relaxed and maybe, just maybe, you’ll like it over here.

“I could,” He shrugs. “But then I wouldn’t have time to enjoy it. And the best part of this job is that I enjoy it, right?”

To say you are impressed is an understatement– the concept of enjoying your job is as foreign to you are the concept of liking your boss. All your life, you’ve strived for perfection, competence– working from the bottom up, making sure to give your all and a bit more, even to those small tasks you hate so much; and never have you heard a ‘thank you, Y/N,’ or a ‘great job!’ Blow after blow made you more apathetic, caring less about the quality, and more about the quantity. Observing your superiors taught you that the more you produced, the better, and you followed that by heart… until you came up with the project that was so swiftly stolen away from you. You had finally found something you are passionate about again! But, once again, it blew up on your face.

Naive, scared little girl. No one here knows you.

“I just want to be noticed,” You mumble to yourself, low enough that Jin makes out a noise, but doesn’t process the words.

He looks at you expectantly, and you smile, ignoring the situation. As he runs to the kitchen to look over his current batch of cookies, Jin multitasks and uses the time to show you around the place. There isn’t much, but even single corner of it is perfect. The kitchen– where you’ll never be unless supervised by him,– is simple and clean; the stock room is next to the back door, and you’ll need to check it every end of your shift; the front area, however, if your main stage– you have to be behind the counter at all times. The five tables pressed against the pink wall get full quite fast in the morning, and if the customers need anything, you need to be ready to serve.

“Sounds good?” Jin asks nervously, eyes looking straight into yours in case of any sing of regret.

“Sounds… just like my old job,” You smile tightly, shoulders sagging in defeat. I guess this is a beginning, although not quite a new one…

“You never told me what you did before,” Jin frowns. “Where did you use to work?”

You open your mind to tell him– you really do,– but suddenly it just doesn’t matter anymore. It never mattered to begin with, to be honest, and you don’t want to carry around that image of you anymore. No more office, no more thinking the bigger picture, no more a naive, scared, little girl. This is not you. It never was. And for some reason, you don’t want Jin, a man who gave you a chance on kindness alone, to see you like that.

“Just a very small place,” You lie. “Nothing important, really.”

“Well, I mean, you are working in a bakery, now,” He chuckles, completely forgetting his previous question. “It really must’ve been a crappy job.”

“The worst,” You nod, and putting on your apron, you get ready for the day.

It starts with a couple of customers; just a couple and their kids, and two high school girls on their way to class. Those are easy and simple and the smiles and ‘thank you’s catch you off guard, but you smile back and wish them a good day.

Then it gets a bit busier– large groups, old people, hipster teenagers,– and just like Jin warned you, the table get filled quickly, and whenever you could, you’d watch the people sitting down with their computers, doing work for school, or maybe applying for jobs. You look at two people sitting together, clearly getting to know each other, and you wonder if this is a first date or if they just met each other because of the lack of chairs in the place. You like this; a peaceful sensation running through you as you watch people smile because of their hot drinks, or humming in delight because of their pastries.

“Hi, excuse me?” Your eyes focus on the client in front of you, and you smile automatically. “Are you new?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Are you new here?” She laughs. “I’ve been coming here since day one…”

“Ah,” A bit embarrassed, you look down to the counter. “Yeah. Jin needed some help, and I needed a job, so…”

“Ah, I see,” She clicks her tongue and squints her eyes, and suddenly you are not that comfortable anymore. “Is he here? Jin?”

“Uh, yeah, he’s… he’s in the back, so…” You are not sure how to proceed.

“Call him for me.”

“Excuse me?” You mumble.

“I need to talk to him, so please, call him for me.”

Nodding, you slowly walk to the kitchen, where you see your boss humming happily to a song. You make sure to memorize this scene before delivering what you are sure is bad news.

“Uhm, excuse me, Jin,” You call softly, and he turns around in a second, eyes wide in surprise. “There is someone here for you.”

“What?” He frowns. “Who–“

“Very beautiful woman,” You sigh, tiredly rubbing your temples once you see the line growing on the other side of the counter. “I need to go back to the cashier, but she… demands to see you.”

“Ah, I know who it is,” His smile falters. “Be there in a sec.”

You go back to your rightful place behind the counter and you start the routine once again; order, payment, deliver. Order, payment, deliver. Order, payment–

“Hey again!”

You look up and surely, it is one of the elderly women you served this morning.

“Oh, hello again,” You chuckle, trying to remember he previous order. “Another latte?”

“Ah, you know it, dear,” She laughs, fishing her purse for change. “How have you been?”

“Busy,” You laugh. “It’s been a hell of a first day.”

“Oh, it’s your first day?” The woman asks. “I could barely tell! You are doing great, sweetie!”

“Thank you so much, ma’am,” You smile, giving her the drink. “It means a lot.”

“Oh, call me Minji, please,” She waves her hand in the air. “It’s nice to see that the people here are as amazing as the food. I’ll see you tomorrow, darling!”

Before you can answer, you hear a loud yelp coming from the back.

“Fuck you, Seokjin!”

“Sana!” Jin shouts, but it’s too late– she’s already out the door. “Damnit…”

“Hey, are you alright?” You whisper, trying understand what the fuck just happened.

“You should go back to the front,” His voice comes out cold and detached, and you shudder. “It’s full.”

“Jin–“

“It’s fine, Y/N,” He says. “Just go to the front, please.”

The rest of the day goes by in a second. You see people again, same ones you’ve seen hours before, and they recognize you. They call your name as if you’ve been friends for a long time, and they introduce themselves. Jinyoung, Seojun, Mina, Chan. You see them laugh, and chat, and joke around. You give them more coffee and food and they thank you, for doing nothing but your job.

It’s when Jin decides to take a break that you finally recognize the feeling blooming in your chest.

“Why are you smiling like that?” He asks, chuckling in confusion.

“I’m just happy.”

————————————

For weeks this goes on. You get a few messages and emails from people in your old office but you don’t even bother check them– you are happy. Waking up early is not a chore, and although it is still a bit hard leaving the bed with the morning dew nipping your skin, everything is okay once you get to the bakery. Apparently, you’ve been doing such a great job that Jin gave you the keys to the place, letting you open up the shop after you nagging him so much about his lack of sleep.

The first thing you do is cleaning. The place opens at 8AM sharp, meaning you have two hours to get everything done, so you start with the most important task. After everything is properly cleaned, you set Seokjin’s space in the kitchen. Because you’ve observed him working so much (and admired his beauty, you admit,) you’ve also learned where he likes his utensils placed, and how he likes to function when it’s just him working with so many orders and batches of food coming in and out of the kitchen. And finally, you make sure to organize the front space, putting in every table enough sugar and napkins to last the morning shift, at least.

“Good morning,” Jin mumbles, walking in without even throwing you a glance. His usual smile is gone and he goes straight to the kitchen. “What the– Y/N?”

You look up to see your boss frowning, leaning on the kitchen door.

“Did you mess with the stuff in the kitchen?”

At this point, you thought he knew– how else would his things be ready for him in the morning? However, you are not that confident this morning.

“Uh, yeah…?”

“Why?” His voice could cut through glass.

“Because I wanted to help?” Your voice dies down as the phrase reaches its end, suddenly feeling embarrassed and… inadequate. And you hate it; you haven’t felt like this since your days at the company.

“I told you to stay in the front,” He says in all seriousness, brows furrowed and angry. “I told you I don’t need anyone in the kitchen! Don’t mess with my things again, everything is out of place now!”

“But–“

“No!” He shouts, and it all comes back. Mr. Nam and his verbal attacks, the constant humiliation, all the holding in and breaking down, all the wasted energy, the wasted ideas, the wasted time. “Stay where you are supposed to.”

“Sure thing,” You seethe, understanding that there will always be frustrations in the workplace, but this… this feels oddly misplaced. “Just a question… is it any different than it usually is?”

“Of course,” He scoffs. “Or else I wouldn’t be complaining.”

“I see,” You nod. “Okay. Understood, boss. Never going in the kitchen again.”

You see the moment he falters, looking quizzically at you, as if he knows he missed something, but didn’t quite know what. Just like that, the day goes by in an agonizingly slow pace; clients coming in and out with not breaks, and you start to feel yourself getting more and more tired, having to handle the front of the bakery by yourself. For days you’ve been wondering how to bring this up, but you need help; at least one other person handling the cashier as you handle the orders and the tables.

Too late, you think, mindlessly steaming milk. He won’t listen to a word I say, now.

“Holy fucking shit!” You shout, feeling the boiling milk overflow right onto your hand. “Oh my god, mother–“

“Y/N!” Jin shouts from the kitchen door. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Sorry, Jin,” You gasp. “I just–“

“I don’t care! Get back to work without cussing in front of the customers.” And he is gone.

“Don’t worry, dear,” You turn around to see Minji at the counter. “He’s probably just stressed out.”

“I don’t see how’s that’s my fault,” You frown, trying to ignore the pain in your hand. “He’s been like that since yesterday…”

“Do you know why?”

“I can guess,” You mumble, thinking back to the woman that asked for him… Sana, you think is what he called her.

“Maybe you should talk to him,” Minji suggests while fishing for change. “You two are a team. He can’t function without you, and vice-versa.”

A team… I’ve never been part of a team, you think, waving her goodbye. Does he really need me?

Your confirmation is the sound of, what you assume to be, many baking trays falling to the ground, and a loud, loud “god-fucking-damnit” echoing in the suddenly very quiet bakery.

So you wait. You wait for the last costumer to leave to exhale, shoulders moving with each deep breath as you walk to the kitchen, stoping at the door. You see Jin, head low and defeated as he half-heartedly cleaned some utensils.

“Can we talk?”

You realize you sound slightly obnoxious, but you don’t care. This is something that has to be done.

“What’s up?” He sighs, hands massaging the side of his head. He looks exhausted and irritated, and for a second you pause– has he slept? Is he okay? He looks way more tired than before…

On one of the tables has tea and cookies and for a second it looks like the night you were hired, when you were feeling the lowest you’ve ever felt. And now here you are; chin high, heart beating bit too fast, and sweat dripping down your back. So stressed. You are stressed– and yet, happy.

“Seriously, Y/N, what’s up?” He sits down, taking a bite of a cookie. “I am not having a good day as it is and–“

“What is up with you?” You speak so fast that all Jin does is stare at you and blink. “Sorry. I don’t mean to be nosy, but I do worry about you. And the bakery. You’re being an asshole and it’s bothering the clients… and me. Mainly me. But the clients, too.”

“Did you just call me an asshole?” He mumbles, processing your words. “Y/N–“

“No, seriously, what is up with you?” You repeat. “Ever since that woman, Sana, came by, you–“

“That’s none of your business,” Jin spits out, getting up and marching to the kitchen. “Now get ready to close up.”

“That!” You shout, pointing at him. “You’re being that! Sana comes by, and suddenly I am your punching bag! Jin, we’re a team, for crying out loud! I am here for you– I am the one that spends the whole day with you, that eats with you, that organizes the fucking kitchen for you! And all you do I shout at me!”

“I’m your boss!” He shouts, and then he realizes he’s just proving your point. Clearing his throat, he continues. “What do you want from me?”

“I want my partner!” You scream, holding tears back. I’m your boss. Not partner; boss. “Whenever you needed me to stay late to clean, and help with the bills, and the accounting– I was here! Whenever you got cooped up in the kitchen ‘trying something new’ or ‘getting ready for tomorrow,’ I was by myself managing this whole place; clients, orders, mails, flowers, decorations–“

“She was there for me, too!” Jin screams, turning to face you and is he crying?! “Sana was there for me too…”

“What does that–“

“She was there and then she wasn’t,” He frowns, angrily marching closer to you. “Sana left me when things got tough. I was getting ready to open the bakery, money wasn’t coming in, no investors, no loans, and then, no Sana. So I’m sorry if I’m a bit skeptical about–“

Jin stops himself before he can finish, but it’s in his eyes.

“Me?” You whisper, hurt and disappointed. “Skeptical about me?”

“What do you want from me?” He begs, coming closer and closer, and you can’t help but back away.

“I was happy,” You whisper, hand covering your mouth in a failed attempt to hold everything in. Hold it in, hold it in, Y/N. For the last time, hold it in. “I was finally happy, Jin. I quit my job for this– for a chance to maybe, just maybe, make a difference. But I guess I never will.”

You take off your apron, and carefully leave it on the table, next to the now-cold-tea.

“At least before I got paid better…” You mumble as you walk to the door, and you honestly don’t think he’ll hear you; but Jin does, and before anything else hits, he’s already on attack mode.

“Then go back,” His hand slams down on the table and you freeze. “Go back to whatever job you were before and never told me about. That’s funny, Y/N– you want me to tell you everything, and yet you won’t tell even tell me what you used to do!”

“I used to work at JYPE,” You say, voice suddenly calm. You are so tired that you don’t even see the point of this anymore. “I was part of the Marketing team, and I used to make nine times more then what I make here. I used to think I was doing something important, Jin. But that was stupid.”

“What?” He gasps. “Why are you here?”

“Because after I quit JYPE, I though I’d never be the kind of person who’d let other walk all over her again,” Your voice is wavy and soft and small, and you just want to leave. Your eyes are fixed on his hands, balled into fists, and you are shaking. “I thought I’d never be screamed at or pointed at or scared again. So I stayed.”

“And now?” He asks, sitting down in defeat. “Why are you still here?”

“I don’t know,” You shrug. “I guess I should go. See you tomorrow.”

“You’re coming back?” There is hope in Jin’s voice and selfishly enough, it give you a bit of hope too.

“I still need a job,” You sniff, looking for your jacket.

“You can get a job anywhere,” He points out, but you choose to ignore it and walk out the door.

You were wrong, Minji, you think, sobbing your way home. I’m alone again.

————————————

“Good morning,” Jin greets you at the bakery door with two coffee cups in hand. Squinting, you manage to catch the Starbucks sign on the edge of the cup.

“That’s not–“

“Nope,” He pops his lips.

“What are you doing out here, Jin?” You sigh, shivering a bit. “It’s freezing.” “I wanted to get here before you,” He smiles a closed smile, trying to hide his uncomfortableness. “But I forgot I gave you my key before making a copy so you could get here to prep the place…”

“Ah, yes,” You fish the keys off, opening the place up for him. “Go in…”

Without even realizing your start your routine, completely ignoring your boss’s curious stare from where he is sitting on the counter. Apron is on, and you are ready; cleaning the place is the quickest chore, you mop the floor, and clean the tables, and make sure that Jin’s butt is not forever engraved in the counter where many people eat from.

“Jin, go sit on the tables,” You mumble, putting the chairs down and around the small sitting area.

And just as he gets up, coffees now lukewarm in his hands, you move on to the last and most important task– the kitchen. Still irritated from the last night, you march into the ‘forbidden area’ and do your best to silently move the utensils around without him noticing. Like it or not, Jin was still your boss, and angry or not, you still worried about him, so making sure that everything he needs is in order and in place for him to go through the day smoothly.

“What are you doing?” He asks, and you almost drop a mixing bowl on your feet.

“Oh, sorry,” Shaking your head as if to get out of a daze, you mumble to yourself something about never going back there again. “Force of habit…”

“Wait,” He runs into the kitchen, and then back to you, stoping your fidgeting hands from checking the cashier for the third time. On the outside you might’ve seem distracted and a bit too calm, but Jin had spent enough time with you to know when you are a complete mess of emotions. “You do this every morning?”

“Uh, yeah…” You clear your throat, trying to avoid the inevitable confrontation that is about to happen. “I know you asked me to stop, and-and I will! I promise!”

“No, you don’t have to, it’s… it’s perfect,” He breathes out. “Since when do you do this? And why?”

“Since you gave me the keys,” You mumble, nervously bitting your lips. “You weren’t getting any sleep and the kitchen was always a mess after you left and I thought that maybe leaving everything ready for the next morning would help… you know, be more efficient and stuff.”

“But–“

“I’ll stop!” You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I don’t want to fight, Jin. I’m still exhausted from yesterday and I just really want to get to work. Please.”

“No fighting,” He promises. “And I’m sorry. I was an idiot. Probably still am. I didn’t mean to shout at you or make you cry, I just–“

“I get it, Jin,” You walk to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “Really. Let’s just forget it and go back to work, yeah? We have to open soon.”

“No, Y/N, wait,” Jin grabs your wrists and pulls you closer, holding you in a tight hug. “Let’s not open today.”

“What?!” You pull away and look at him with wide eyes.

“You were right!” He smiles, eyes crinkling in that way that lets you know that a particular fine batch of scones is coming out or that a new recipe is about to be added to the menu. So cute… “We’re a team! I can’t work without you, Y/N, or else I’d go insane. And no one could ever take care of the store the way you do– or make the clients happy, or– or take care of me! So I trust you; when you say you want to stay in the bakery, when you say we are a team, when you say you won’t leave… I trust you, I promise.”

“What is happening?” You whisper to yourself as Jin runs around gabbing his jacket and bag.

“We’re going to have a bonding day!” He announces, pushing you out and into the street. “Let’s go! I have an idea.”

Turns out Jin’s idea was having ramyun by the river, sitting on a cold bench, asking you questions about your life.

“I’m assuming you majored in Marketing?” He asks, chuckling to himself. “I still can’t believe you worked at JYPE… did you meet anyone famous? Oh! Did you meet GOT7?”

You roll your eyes playfully. “Well, you’re wrong, actually,” You smile to yourself. “I majored in Literature. Marketing is just where I ended up. And yes, I’ve met GOT7, and no, I don’t have their phone numbers, before you ask.”

He mumbles something about wanting to become best friends with Jackson and you take the time to look around; the sun was high in the sky, contrasting with the cold weather, illuminating everything around… particularly Jin. The sun hit on half of his face, and the last thing you remember is him talking about how BamBam is such a good rapper– the rest is lost in the air once you start noticing his sharp features. His hair covering his eyes, and his jawline, and just how beautiful his smile is. Objectively speaking, you know how handsome your boss is, and you know he knows it too, with his smirks and winks and air-kisses whenever he comes out of hiding in the kitchen and greets the customers properly. But this was the first time you actively noticed it… and enjoyed it.

“Y/N?” Jin calls, waving his hand in front of your face. “Y/N, are you listening to me?”

“Jin, what are we doing?” You sigh, smiling a bit. “What’s happening right now?”

“We’re bonding,” He answers softly. “I thought that was what you wanted?”

“I–“ You stop yourself, because, honestly, you have no idea what you want. “I– Yeah, I wanted to bond and-and get to know you better, I guess, but so far you told me nothing.”

“What do you mean?” Jin frowns and something in you stirs, making you ball your hands in fists to stop yourself from soothing his forehead. What is happening to me? “I told you a bunch of stuff. My favorite color, my college days, my childhood… I told you all about that.”

“Jin…” You sigh, looking right into his eyes, and disappointment is all you see in him; disappointment at himself for ever letting you down, to begin with. “You know that’s not what I mean.”

“I’m trying,” He pouts, eyes looking down at his hands in shame. “I’m doing my best, but I don’t like talking about that stuff… specially now that she’s back.”

“What does that mean?” You ask, hands covering his. Your thumb goes up and down and up and down on his palms and you feel all of the warmth and love that comes out of those hands. “You know what? I have an idea. Come with me.”

It takes you a while to convince him to let you drive, but with a little emotional speech he throws the keys at you and runs to passenger seat. The ride is quiet and you ask him to close his eyes once you start getting close.

“We’re almost there,” You tell him, a small smile on your face. “I’m going to open the window, just letting you know.”

Turning onto the street, you shimmy with glee upon seeing the bakery. Jin’s hair is flowing with the wind and you want to crack a joke about how he look like a model, but the very faint smell of sugar and cookies fill up the car, and you can see Jin sniffing the familiar smell. Although the bakery had been closed all day, the familiarity of the area is enough to bring back the smell that for weeks now has offered you comfort and happiness, and you sure that even with his eyes closed, Jin could feel the same.

“Are we–“

“Yeah.”

“Why?” He slowly opens his eyes, looking at you with such intensity that you can’t help but blush.

“Because this is your safe space,” You mumble, parking and turning off the car. “You are yourself in there– in the kitchen, baking, thinking, singing. It’s the happiest I’ve seen you. Ever. And me. It’s the happiest I’ve been, Jin. So if there is anywhere that I think we should have this talk, is here.”

“Y/N… wow, I just,” He chokes on his words as he looks around, following you inside. “Thank you.”

You smile, going straight to the counter and reaching behind the cashier. “And I also keep this stashed in case of emergencies.”

“You’ve been here for just three months!” Jin screeches when he sees the bottle of tequila. “What emergency could happen in just three months?!”

“This one,” You point at him, pulling two latte cups from the shelf. You pour two shots, one for you and one for him, and signal for him to throw it back. Once your done, you do it again. “Okay, I’m ready now.”

“Really?” He coughs, making a disgusted face. “Two shots in and only now you’re ready?”

“… yeah,” you nod, eyes wide. He smiles, a sort of smile that makes you smile, too, and he nods.

“Okay,” He downs his third shot and you follow. “Okay. Now I’m ready too. So… Sana? This is what you want to know about?”

“Yes,” You nod a bit too fast and you can already start feeling your head spin a tiny bit.

He chuckles, more to himself the anything.

“We met when we were teenagers,” Jin starts, smiling with the fond memory. “Our parents were really good friends and I guess it just just made sense when we started dating. They were happy and I think that’s what made us think we were happy, too. We dated through college, on and off, and a year ago, when I started planning for the bakery, Sana starting planning for something else… she wanted to get married.”

“Uh, was she… pregnant?” You mumble, trying to wrap your head around it.

“No,” He frowns. “Thank god, no. We wouldn’t work. We didn’t work, actually. When I told her that she needed to wait a bit, a year or so, she said that she had already waited for too long. She told me that she had wasted her best years on me, hoping that one day I’d ask for her to marry me, and we would start a family and grow old together and… and I realized that that’s not what I wanted. Sure I loved her and I wanted a future with her, but I also wanted to have a future. The family, the apartment by the river, the kids; it would all cost me of my one dream– this bakery. And I wasn’t ready to give that up.”

You nod in understanding; shoving a dream aside for someone else is something that you got quite used to back in your old company, and it hurt to see that same kind of sadness in the eyes of this man that you’ve only seen working with love.

“But you didn’t,” You pour him another shot that he takes instantly. “You persevered, Kim Seokjin. That’s more than I can say for myself.”

He nods. “Yeah, but at what cost?” His voice is dry and small. For the first time ever since you met him, the big and tall man seemed small like a child. You just wanted to embrace him, and embrace him you did. The inhibition that comes with the alcohol is all you needed to push your body off of your chair and hug Jin, hands slowly patting his back in support. “I lost Sana and it took me months to pull myself together and get the loans for the bakery. I remember waiting to hear from the bank and thinking that maybe I shouldn’t be doing this; maybe I was wrong in putting everything aside from this; that maybe Sana was right, you know? This would never work. “

“Jin–“

“But it did!” He chuckles, voice wavering. When you feel the tears soaking through your shirt, and just hold him tighter. “It worked and why do I still feel so fucking alone?”

His shoulders shake with the intensity of his sobs and you hold yourself back from crying, too.

“You’re not alone, Jin,” You whisper into his hair, cradling his head with careful hands. “You’re never alone. Literally. I’m always here, and the costumers love you so much–“

“Sure, I’m not alone when I’m in the bakery,” He pulls aways a little bit so that he can look at you, hands on your waist as he makes guides you to sit down on the corner of the table. “But when I go home? To an empty apartment? I’m by myself, Y/N. And I hate it.”

“Is that why you refused to go home for the first weeks of me working here?” He nods at your question and you wonder just how many nights he spent in these same tables, crying, sleeping, thinking. “Jin…”

“I’m better, though,” Jin’s eyes stare right into yours and his hands soften on your waits, moving a bit down to rest on top of your thighs. You eyes flutter with the shivers that run all though your body, but you keep focused on the man before you, scooting his chair a bit closer so that he can position himself in between your open legs. “Ever since you got here, Y/N, I’ve been better.”

Jin gets up, taking a step closer to you; and another, and another, and then his nose nuzzles yours, and his hands move back to your waist, hanging dangerously lower than before. His breath fans your mouth and you gasp with the intense need that takes over your body as you pull him closer by his hoodie, mouth hungrily moving against his. There is not an inch of your bodies that don’t touch and you think that the alcohol has something to do with this impulsive decision. A part of you tells you to pull away– this is your boss, after all; but the other part of you, the stronger and crazier part of you, tells you to pull his hoodie off of him and let him remove your sweater.

“Y/N,” Jin growls in your ear just as you pull his hair. “Jesus christ, you’re going to be the death of me.”

“Shut up and kiss me,” You mumble, moving from his neck back to his mouth. “I need you.”

You are the first one to utter those words– the momentary truth, you think about it, and your heart hurt a little bit. Enjoy this now, you tell yourself, allowing Jin to carry you from the table to the ground behind the counter, the only place safe from the huge windows out front. Because tomorrow it will be gone. His hands move quickly on your pants, just as you fight against his; and before you know it, you are both naked on the floor.

“Last chance,” He mumbles to your mouth. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” You say, regret already settling in; but just like everything else, you push it aside.

When you wake up lying on the cold and uncomfortable floor by yourself, you know that what is done and is done, and that as much as you tried to stay with him, you’re the one that woke up alone.

————————————

It ends up that sleeping in the cold bakery on the cold floor is not the best idea out there and you stay in your apartment, sick and sleepy, for the next three days. You stay disconnected from everything electronic– computers, phones, television– only using the house phone to call the bakery and tell Jin you’d not be able to make it; again. You admit that hearing his voice takes you back to that intense night, and even sick, you feel a sliver of excitement growing on you, but you have only a few minutes to enjoy it, before going into another coughing fit or sneezing your brains out.

The phone is what wakes you up in the morning, and you mindlessly feel around your bedside table until you find it, buried under used tissues and a half-read book.

“Hello?” You pick it up, groggily trying to pick-up your scattered mind.

“Y/N?”

Your heart stop.

“Seojun?”

“Oh thank god you picked up,” He sighs on the other end. “I’ve been trying to get in touch with you for the past four days! I though you were ignoring me!”

“N-No, never, I-I just…” You pull away to cough. “I’m feeling a bit sick, and I’ve–“

“Oh no,” He mumbles something on the other end of the phone and it sounds like he’s talking to someone. “Send me your address, I’m bringing you breakfast and medicine.”

“Wha- No, Seojun, you don’t ha–“

“Forget it, I got it right here,” Another voice mumbles something and you stare at your phone, confused. “See you in twenty.”

Sighing in defeat, you throw the phone on the other side of the bed and move to the bathroom, hoping that a shower would help you feel more alive. It didn’t and now you just feel more tired then ever, dragging your body to the living room where you can at least enjoy a few episodes of Criminal Minds, putting the volume way down low so that your migraine doesn’t get worse. You are not sure how long its been and you might’ve fallen asleep, but the harsh knocks on the door have you jumping up and running to the door in seconds.

“Seoju–“ You stop mid-sentence, smile fading when seeing who’s next to him. “Mr. Nam. What are you doing here?”

“Y/N!” Seojun, gasps. “Don’t be rude.”

You smirk, rolling your eyes. “He’s not my boss, I owe him no respect.”

“I expected that, Seojun, don’t worry,” Mr. Nam pats Seojun back, in a supporting manner that you’ve never seen before. “Ms. Y/L/N, how have you been?”

“Look, maybe we should do this another day, I don’t feel good as it is and this is not helping,” You try to close the door, but when Mr. Nam blocked the entrance with his foot and pushed the door open, there was nothing you could do about it. “Mr. Nam. Please get out of my house.”

“Now, now, Ms. Y/L/N,” He sits on your couch and Seojun follows, barely raising his eyes from the ground in shame. “I think we need to talk.”

You break out in cold sweat and you are sure it is not thanks to the two blankets wrapped around you.

“I don’t think we have anything to talk about,” You say, voice wavering but standing your ground still.

“Don’t be disrespectful, Y/N,” Seojun practically begs. “Just sit down and listen to Mr. Nam. He just wants to talk.”

“Seojun,” You gasp, not believing that your friend is doing this to you. After you formally quit from the company, you told him what happened, and at the time he had shown you full support towards quitting.

“No,” He rises up, voice clearly angry. “Stop being a bitch, and listen to other people for once.”

This is like a punch to your stomach, and holding tears back, you excuse yourself out of your own apartment to knock on the neighbor’s door, a young man you met when you moved in.

“Hey,” You mumble, sniffling a bit, and his eyes go wide. “Hey Namjoon, c-can you help me for a sec?”

“Y-yeah, of course,” He steps out of his apartment, putting his hands on your shoulders. “Are you okay?”

“Not really,” You say, and you proceed to give him a quick overview of what happened in between you and Mr. Nam. “… and that’s why I need your help. He makes me uncomfortable and, honestly, scared, so I don’t want to be alone with them. Could you come back with me and pretend to look for something or whatever?”

“Yeah, of course!” He frowns and straightens his back, making himself even taller. “Let’s go.”

“I’m sure I left it right over there,” You say loudly, making sure that Mr. Nam and Seojun hear you coming back in with someone else. “In the kitchen.”

“Who’s that?” Mr. Nam asks as Namjoon slowly moves to the kitchen, giving him and Seojun a cold nod.

“That’s my neighbor,” You say, taking a step back from the man, keeping yourself close to the kitchen door. “He lent me something a few weeks ago and needed it back…”

“Now?” Seojun rolls his eyes. “This is ridiculous.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” Mr. Nam chuckles. “Can we talk now?”

“What about?”

“Sit,” Your ex-boss points at the place next to him in the couch but you prefer to sit on the armchair, separated from the couch by a center table. “Okay. I came here to tell you that we want you back.”

“W-What?”

“We want you back, Y/N,” Mr. Nam sighs. You faintly notice Namjoon in the kitchen, but your heartbeat takes over and soon enough you can barely hear anything but the du-dum, du-dum, du-dum du-dum du-dum and you feel as if the room is spinning out of control.

“No” You mumble, starting with no strength at all but soon enough letting all your emotions out. “No way. I have a job! One that doesn’t have me crying in bathrooms; one that doesn’t have my boss abusing his power. I am finally happy and I am never going back to work for you, Jaesung Nam.” When you’re done, Namjoon is right behind you, ready to jump in whenever necessary.

“Y/N Y/L/N, apologize right now,” Seojun demands, taking a step towards you but stoping when Namjoon puts himself in the middle. “Can’t you appreciate what Mr. Nam is trying to do for you? What job could you have that is better than the one you had before?” Taking a deep breath, you ready yourself for the mocking that will surely come. “I work at the bakery a few blocks away. You probably hear of it, it’s gotten really popular.”

“Wait,” Namjoon is the one turning to you, surprised. “You work with Jin? You’re the new girl?”

“You know Jin?” You cough, chocking on your words.

“A bakery?” Mr. Nam laughs. “Y/N, come back to the company. We’ll re-instate you in the marketing team, offer you a better pay, and–“

“I used to be Marketing manager,” You sigh. “You want me back, but not enough to finally give me the recognition I deserve, huh?”

“Y/N–“

“How do you even expect me to come back when you’re offering me a demotion?” You cry out, sniffing through the stuffed nose that now seemed to be getting worse. “Y-You know what? Get the fuck out. I’m done with you two, get out before I lose my fucking mind.”

And when you least expect it, there’s another knock on the door.

“Oh my– who the fuck could that be, huh?!” You squint your eyes at your ex-coworkers. “Ms. Jung from Accounting? Mr. Lim from Editorial? Oh! No, wait, I got it– GOT7, how about that?”

You swing the door open only to see Jin looking as angry as Namjoon. He marches in, pushing you behind him, and you swear to god you’ve never seen a man wearing a black hoodie and blue jeans look so hot in your entire life. His hand is strong and warm around yours, and all the adrenaline that was previously running through your body starts to run out, and the sickness sinks in, leaving you tired once again. So tired that while all the male energy in the room is preoccupied with staring each other down, you feel faint and allow your head to rest on Jin’s back.

“What is happening over here?” Jin asks, voice low and dangerous. “Joon texted me and I ran over.”

“Nothing,” You grunt, trying to lift an arm to point at Mr. Nam, but you have no energy left in you. “They are just leaving.”

“Ms. Y/L/N, just listen to us,” Mr. Nam hisses, with that sick smile of his plastered on his face. “We have a great offer. Passing down like this is foolish, you’re being–“

“Naive?” You snap, coming out from behind Jin. “Huh? I’m being what, Mr. Nam? A scared, little girl? What you gonna do about it? Scream at me? Point at me? Steal my ideas?”

He gulps and something within you clicks.

“Is that why you’re here?” You ask, looking at both men. “Because you want my ideas?”

“Listen, you were our best marketer,” Mr. Nam says, although you know he doesn’t want to. “You came up with the best ideas for our auditions and publishing offices. We need that back.”

“Oh, that is golden,” You laugh, humorlessly. “You are back here, in my apartment, begging me to come back, because you want to steal my ideas again?!”

“Say the word, Y/N,” Namjoon mutters behind you. “Say the word and Jin-hyung and I will take care of these idiots.”

“Leave them to me,” You smile creepily. “I’ve been dying to do this for years.”

With just three long strides you walk to Mr. Nam, the man that still torments your dreams and haunts your every decision, and slap him across his face.

“Get out.”

Every word is strong and loud.

“Get out of my house, you fucking dumbass,” You hiss in his face. “Before I call the police to escort you out. If you can’t do your job, don’t come begging me to do it for you. I’m done. Leave.”

Seojun tries to grab your hand, to stop you, talk to you, beg you, you wouldn’t know– Jin got in the middle and practically dragged both of them out of your living room and into the elevator.

“We’re going to your precinct first thing in the morning,” Jin tells Namjoon and his friend nods. “We’re going to need to file restraining order for Y/N.”

“What are you talking about?” You scoff, just wanting all of this to be done so you can finally enjoy the feeling of standing up against Mr. Nam. “I just want to sleep, guys. Thanks for everything, the two of you, but I think you should go.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Jin asks you with wide, unbelieving eyes. “I’ve been trying to talk to you for four days and nothing. Then, the first time I see you again, you have two insane men in your apartment. So no; I’m not going to leave.”

You blink, not sure how to proceed. “Jin, I’m feeling really sick right now, okay? I want to explain everything, but I really just need to sleep this cold off first.”

“Then go sleep,” He pushes you to the hallway. “I’ll stay here and make you some soup for dinner. I can also go grab some medicine from Joon’s place, he has a whole pharmacy in there.”

It takes some convincing, but apparently Jin is really good at that. While you sleep, he busies himself with cooking and humming through the morning. When you wake up again, it’s barely noon, and your house is filled with the most amazing smell of kimchi-jjigae.

“Come eat,” Jin smiles a bit when he sees you standing by the kitchen door, Joon nowhere to be seen.

“You really didn’t have to,” You say, taking the pills he gives you. “But thank you. Really. It means a lot.”

“You’re welcome,” He blushes. “I was worried. You weren’t responding to my texts or answering my calls… when Namjoon texted me I was relieved for a second.”

“I’m sorry you got dragged into that,” You say, voice coming out less raspy thanks to the warmth of the soup. “I didn’t know Mr. Nam was coming here and–“

“He’s the asshole that made you quit, isn’t he?” He asks, grabbing your hand. You nod, still eating. “I can’t believe he did that to you, Y/N, I swear to god if I see him again, I’m going to end him.”

“Why?”

The question comes out before you can even think about it.

“What?”

“Why do you care, Jin?” You smile, although quite sadly. “I mean… I woke up alone, for crying out loud. You left me, and I woke up by myself. So if you didn’t care then, why do you care now?”

“I always cared,” Jin says, rolling his eyes. He sets a plate in front of your and everything smells delicious. “I know I don’t always show it, but I always cared. The only reason I kept the cinnamon buns in the menu is so that Minji comes back every morning and talks to you– you seem happy when she’s around. I make to cook a fresh batch of chocolate chip scones just so that you have your cool down time, as I like to call it; it’s when we have almost no movement and you allow yourself to sit down and eat something, so I always try to have your favorite ready.”

“Is that why we always have an absurd amount of chocolate chip scones left?!” You ask, gasping in shock.

“Of course,” Jin laughs, watching you pout. “No one eats that atrocity. Just you.”

“So you make those just for me?” You whisper, feeling your eyes starting to tear.

“You like them,” He sighs, and when Jin finally looks at you again, you recognize the emotions swirling in his eyes. You saw them before– that night. “Jin–“

“I also talked to Sana,” He clear his throat, telling you everything he feels need to get out of the way. “She is not going to bother us again. I told her I am not going back and that we–“

You don’t care about the rest of that sentence. The us and we is all you need to finally be certain that Jin is as much in this as you are; so you kiss him. You grab him by his shirt, and for a second you have a deja-vu of the two of your drunk, on the floor, on the table; however, nothing matters once his hands find your hair and he tugs your head back, giving him more access to your mouth, your neck, your everything. Jin is as unsure as you are but soon enough you two are on the couch, his hands on your ass, bringing you as close as humanly possible.

“Y/N,” He groans, and you whine, desperate for his attention. “Goddamnit, woman.”

Your mouth moves from his, down to his neck– your teeth sinks in his skin, softly pulling a groan out of him, and you can swear you feel it down to your bones.

“I like you,” You whine, too lost in the sensation of him to actually pay attention to your words. “Fuck, Jin…”

“I like you more,” He chuckles, mouth finding yours once again, pulling and pushing, giving and taking, and taking, and taking all you can give. “I like you so much more.”

You chuckle, rolling your eyes, and when he notices, he bites your lower lip, pulling it a bit. “Careful, there princess.”

“Jin,” At this point, your head is completely empty… so empty that when you sneeze, you are as shocked as the man in from of you. “I forgot!”

“You forgot you are sick?” He laughs, making that high pitched sound you’ve grown to love so much.

“It’s all your fault,” You groan, trying to get up from the couch. He holds you down.

“Make that noise again and a stupid cold won’t be enough to keep me away from you,” He whispers in your ear, giving your neck a last nip before getting up and pulling you with him. “Now go take a nap. I need you better soon, that place is a mess without you.”

“You can just say you’re a mess without me,” You wink, moving to your room. “I won’t judge.”

For the next couple of days, Jin stuck by your side, only leaving to go grab a couple of extra clothes. He nurses you until you are feeling new again, and until you are able to go back to work. Those days had been absolute heaven; you and Jin had time to explore your new-found romance, pampering each other with kisses and compliments and the occasional make-out session. Although it took both of you some time, you had finally found each other, and you can barely sleep the night before having to go to the bakery again. You finally knew what it felt like loving your work; but now you’ve reached a new level. You get to the bakery with a smile, even if you haven’t slept a wink, and opening the place up, so that people that love the food, the drinks, the ambiance, can have a good start to their day, or a good end, if it’s late at night. And when you are finally done cleaning, you wait for Jin while sipping on some tea, watching him hum a random song; and it’s usually then that you know, you’ve never been this happy.

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holy shit this was long! hahaha I think this is the longest fic I’ve ever written, but it’s worth it! I absolute love it :) what do you think? Let me know in the comments! Your opinion matters the world to me <3

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timelock97 · 4 years

Text

Game Changer

Chapter Twelve: The New Normal

Word Count: 2539

Warnings: Language

_________________________________________

The sound of my bike tires running on the pavement is one of the only thing I hear as I ride from Turrfield to Hullberry for my last appointment of the day. Ivy trots slightly to the right of my bike as I turn past the Pokemon Center and head down the street to my latest client. I come to a stop before stepping off my bike and go to lift it up to walk up the steps to the side street.

“Hey, (Y/N/N)!” I turn and smile at Nessa, setting down my bike as she walks over to me. “Whatcha doing?”

I shrug before motioning to the path to my left. “Appointment, then I am off to Monostoke to take the train to Wedgehurt to visit Leon’s family for the weekend and train.”

She laughs, walking over to give me a hug. “Well, I won’t let you two be late then.” She lets go and pats Ivy on the head before waving at us.

I pat my side, “C'mon, girl. Let’s head to our last appointment then we are headed home.”

I lift my head when the conductor comes on the speaker to tell everyone who was left on the train that we would be arriving in Wedgehurst soon. I type out the last of my treatment notes and send them to Samantha to look over before placing my tablet into my bag.

Ivy stands when the train comes to a stop, prompting me to stand as well and exit with the rest of the passengers. I weave through the crown, following Ivy as best as I can until I can get off to the side and wait to get my bike from the back. I whistle for my Rotom, who buzzes around my face and shows off the last few messages I had missed. A few were from Leon telling me that he would be late, but not late enough to miss dinner, one from Nessa saying it was good to see me today, and one from my mom.

Rotom buzzes after I reply to the last few messages, notifying me of a new message. “New message from Mama Michelle: Can you stop at the grocery store and pick up a few things for dinner tonight?”

“Reply, ‘Of course, text me the items.” I mutter, before thanking the woman and pushing the bike while I walk to the store. Once the ingredients were sent, I set my bike against the wall and head in. Ivy and I wonder and grab a few things while we wait, but once they do we can finish the shopping. Once I had everything in my bag I grabbed my bike and rode down the road to Postwick and back to the house.

I smile as I see Hop in the yard training his team; Corviknight perched on the stone wall, Rillaboom bouncing by Hop, and Dubwool rolled onto his side while Hop brushes him. I cup a hand over my mouth and hollar, “You wanna fight, mate?”

Hop’s head snaps up before laughing. “Not with you!” He calls with a laugh, standing to open the gate so I can ride in and park my bike against the stone wall. “Did Mum send you a list of things to buy for dinner?”

I lift the bag up, “Yeah, I am going to take them into her, but if she doesn’t need any help I will be back out here with you, okay?” Hop nods at me as I walk back to the house. Once I enter I smile at the smell coming from the kitchen. I walk in and see Michelle chopping something on the cutting board while the pot to her right is boiling. “Hey, Michelle, I got your groceries.”

She turns and smiles widely, “Darling, thank you so much!” She takes the bag from me and sets it on the counter before turning back to me and pulling me into a hug. “How have clinicals been?”

“Good, good. I am kinda thankful that I have the end of next week off for the finals event. Smantha said that she isn’t evening having the main clinic open since almost all of Galar will be attending.” I give her one final squeeze before pulling away. “Leon has been training his team hard to prepare for it, they are in desperate need of a break this weekend.”

“I thought you two were still going to train in the back field?”

I nod as I fill a glass with water, “Yeah! I mean, his are still a little higher than mine but we are hoping to level my team up more than really keep his team in shape.” I take a slow drink before continuing, “Scorch loves to be fully evolved, he is still a big ball of energy. Also, Fritter evolved into an Appletun last week.”

“So you did choose a sweet apple over a tart one.”

I laugh, moving the glass between my hands, “Yeah, I let her decide. She is still really tough in battle though, almost took down Lee’s Inteleon last week. Of course he dodged one of her attacks and managed to beat her, but she is growing stronger.”

“Lee said your team is catching up to him in stats, even said that you were training up Ivy.” I notice her lean down and pet Ivy as she speaks. “He never thought that she would ever fight unless she needed to.”

“Yeah, she decided to join in about three weeks after I got back? She wanted to join in on training after Mr. Rime knocked out Daisy. She took revenge,” I laugh patting my leg as Ivy walks over and hops into my lap.

“Well it’s good to see her joining in on her new team, I know you were okay with her just being a part of the family and not worry about her battling but I am glad she is more comfortable.”

I smile and nod, rubbing behind Ivy’s ears. “I am too.”

The sound of Hop and his Pokemon freaking out alerts us to Leon’s arrival. Michelle and I look at each other before giggling. “Go on, I know you haven’t seen him in a few weeks due to Champion duties.”

I give her an embarrassed smile before I nudge Ivy off my lap and head back outside. Leon is tickling Hop into the ground when I walk out, Charizard shaking his head while Rillaboom smacking the ground with his sticks. Charizard notices me and lumbars over, nuzzling his head in to mine, my hands flying up and rubbing his cheeks and neck. “You miss me bud? I missed you too.”

“Rude,” I hear Leon call, causing me to lean over so I can see him between the gap of Charizard’s wings. Leon is still kneeling down, but is just pinning Hop to the ground. “I thought you would say hello to me first.”

I shift to the side and walk over, playfully shoving Lee over so I can save Hop, only for him to tug me down and land on top of him. I laugh loudly, Leon smiling before pinching my sides causing me to squeal and shove at him to try and escape. “Don’t be rude! The only reason I said hi to Charizard first was because you were busy torturing your brother- Leon stop!” I squirm and wiggle, finally getting some relief when Hop joins and helps me tickle Leon back. The three of us fall into a tickling puddle, Leon dragging the two of us down on top of him before pinning us there and tickling our sides.

The three of us finally give up, panting and laughing quietly. Michelle calls for Hop to come help her, leading for him to slowly roll away from Leon and I and running into the house and leaving Leon and I panting on the grass.

I feel Leon press his nose into my hairline, lips softly pressing into my forehead. “I missed you these past two weeks. I couldn’t get home in time at any point. I hope it hasn’t been awful.”

I shake my head and hug him softly, not wanting to move. “No, it wasn’t bad. Raihan made me come over for lunch last Friday since I got a half day. He also ended up helping me train the team a bit, says that he is surprised how far they have come.”

“He called and told me that, and asked for me to send him my training regimine,” he laughs. “I told him I’d show him when he beat me in a battle.”

“You are so full of yourself,” I laugh, tilting my head up to look at him. “One of these days he will beat you, and you will be so proud.”

Leon leans in and presses a kiss to my nose. “I will be so excited for him.”

“Lee! (Y/N)! Mum said dinner is ready and to stop canoodling on the grass where the neighbors can see you!” Hop yells from the window.

Leon and I look at one another before laughing. I roll off of Lee, giving him the chance to stand and pull me to my feet. “C'mon, let’s go eat. Then we can do some training, maybe even help Hop a little, yeah?”

I nod, squeezing his hand, “Sounds perfect.”

Rotom buzzes around my head as I head from the apartment with Ivy at my side to the stadium. Today was the day, Hop was competing to get into the championship finals the next day as well as a few other trainers including Piers’ sister Marnie.

I had met her when I had to go to Spikemuth for an appointment and couldn’t get in, she had shown me the back way so I could make it there in time. Piers eventually saw me and introduced me to her and quickly we became friends.

I show my pass to the door, heading inside about an hour early to take Leon a lunch and go tell Hop and Marnie good luck. My shoes smack against the tile as I slip past the 'trainers only’ sign and head down to the hallway. Ivy trotts alongside me as I find the locker room where the latest competitors are sitting. I knock on the door and step inside, finding them seated at different benches and talking quietly. One girl is standing by the windows, spinning a pokeball on her finger.

Hop looks up and finds me walking in, mouth falling open in surprise, “(Y/N), what are you doing in here? Only trainers-”

“Are supposed to be back here, I know.” I laugh, ruffling his hair. “But your brother forgot his lunch so I am delivering it since I know he won’t eat unless I bring it to him.” I move to pull him into a hug, Hop’s arms circling my waist as he sighs contently. “Besides, I wanted to wish the challengers luck.”

“Well,” he squeezes me a little before letting go, “I am glad to see you.”

I smile before turning to Marnie, surprisingly, she gives me a small smile before hugging me as well. “You too, Marnie, kick ass out there, yeah?”

“Whose side are you one-”

“I’m on you having fun and battling hard. However it works out, I want you all to go out there and have the best battle you can.”

I hear a snicker from across the room, the girl by the window spins around to look at us. She places a hand on her hip, jutting it out in the process as her blonde hair falls in front of her shoulder. “Battling to have fun and battling to win are two totally different things.”

I give her a kind smile, but my words are void of a happy tone, “And yet the person with the best bond with their Pokemon will always have the better battle. You may have strategy and strength, but they have love.”

I watch as she tilts her head, “You’re the Champion’s girlfriend, right?”

“Fiancee actually.” I state, my hands resting on Hop and Marnie’s shoulder.

She laughs, “Mind telling the Champion something for me?” When I don’t answer, she continues, flipping her hair over her shoulder. “Tell him to enjoy his undefeated streak, cause after tomorrow it is going to end. Champion Serenity has a nice ring to it.”

I give her a small smile before leaning down so only Hop and Marnie can hear me. “You have to kick her ass cause I can’t.”

Hop breaks into laughter as Marnie nods, “Sure thing, doc.”

Serenity raises an eyebrow before I bid them goodbye and good luck, leaving the room before I try and beat up an over-entitled eleven year-old with Ivy in tow.

I find Leon not too long later, seated in a green room with his head resting on the back of the couch. The sound of the door closing behind me causes him to stir, looking up as I walk over, Ivy curling up beside him. He smiles, hand reaching for me. “Hey, what are you doing here?”

I lift his lunch after taking his hand with my opposite hand. “Making sure you ate before you got started, and to make sure to give you some lovin’ before you go and do your job.”

He smiles, tugging me down so that I was sitting in his lap, “Will you stay while I eat?”

“Well if I get the best seat in the house then sure,” I tease, making him laugh loudly. I listen to him talk about his morning since he left the house early this morning while he eats. At some point, he notices the sour look on my face, asking me what is wrong. “Do me a favor?”

He chuckles, “Sure love, what can I do for you?”

“You know the gym challenger, Serenity I think is her name?” I watch as he nods, “Good, if she makes it to the final round against you, beat her. For my sake.”

He laughs and shakes his head, “Any reason for this request?”

“She isn’t someone I could ever see being a Champion, not because she is bad at battling, but the fact that she thinks she can do what she wants because she is good. She needs to get a reality check.”

Leon chuckles, squeezing my hip. “No one is taking my title unless they earn it, I got you babe.” His Rotom comes buzzing over and shows us that Leon needs to finish getting ready and I needed to head to the stadium. “Alright, love. As much as I have enjoyed you being here, I need to get ready. I will see you at the end of the day in the lobby, I’ll take you and Hop out to dinner tonight, yeah?”

“Sounds perfect, Leo.” I purr, making him mutter out a 'dear Arceus,’ before pulling me into a deep kiss. I giggle against his lips before getting out of his lap. “But do tell me this, why are we staying in a hotel when we live here in Wyndon?”

He chuckles, pushing himself from off the couch to hug me one more time before pushing me toward the door. “Aesthetic, I have no clue honestly, makes sure I am not late I guess. I’ll see you later, okay? I’ll meet you in the hotel.”

“Have fun,” I sing, giving one last wave before leaving, heading to my seat to watch the first of many Semi-Finals.

_________________________________________

A/N: Hello hello hello! Hope you all are having a good day!

Masterlist

#cg writes #champion leon #champion leon x fem!reader #champion leon fluff #pokemon swsh #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon leon #pokemon shield leon #pokemon sword leon #dandeleon #dande

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diskwrite-ffxiv · 6 years

Text

There have been some very excellent posts breaking down the first non-apology from Oz. And now, after the first attempt was generally panned, Oz has made a second go of it: https://imgur.com/a/E9qELpy

As we consider Oz’s words, there is a point I would like to emphasize.

Apologies are an important part of the abuser’s playbook.

And as Lundy Bancroft states in Why Does He Do That?, it doesn’t really matter if the abuser’s apology is sincere or not.

The salient point about remorse, however, is that it matters little whether it is genuine or not. Clients who get very sorry after acts of abuse change at about the same rate as the ones who don’t. The most regretful are sometimes the most self-centered, lamenting above all the injury they’ve done to their own self-image. They feel ashamed of having behaved like cruel dictators and want to revert quickly to the role of benign dictators, as if that somehow makes them much better people.

This is the third time I’ve linked this image with regard to this situation, but it’s because it is paramount that we understand the abuser’s behavior as cyclical and the role that apologies play.

It’s a little counter-intuitive compared to non-abusive interactions. Under normal circumstances, an apology serves to say things like “hey I messed up and I’m sorry.” It’s part of making things right with someone else, and it’s considered part of the social contract that if someone is sorry for what they did, they will try to do better in the future.

But in the context of the cycle of abuse, that’s not what happens when an abuser apologizes.

Another quote from Bancroft:

After he has purged himself, he typically acts ashamed or regretful about his cruelty or violence, at least in the early years of a relationship. Then he may enter a period when he reminds you of the man you fell in love with—charming, attentive, funny, kind. His actions have the effect of drawing you into a repetitive traumatic cycle in which you hope each time that he is finally going to change for good. You then begin to see the signs of his next slow slide back into abuse, and your anxiety and confusion rise again.

[Once more please excuse the pronouns and specifically gendered way Bancroft has written this book. He is addressing heterosexual romantic relationships because that is what he worked with most in his practice, but so much about abuse is common regardless of the type of personal relationship.]

Ultimately, whether or not an abuser feels sorry means nothing. If they’re going to become a better person, what’s required is that they change the fundamental beliefs, behaviors, and actions that made them an abuser in the first place.

So, let’s talk this second apology.

What does it take for an abuser to change?

In my last extensive post, I quoted Bancroft’s example of what it would take for a man to fully take accountability for vindictively cutting down a neighbor’s tree. So how does Bancroft relate this to abuse, and what abusers must do to truly become better?

I’m going to quote this part in full and it’s a long one, so bear with me. Some details are especially romantic relationship specific, but I left it all in because they are necessary to communicate just how all-encompassing true change for an abuser has to be.

1. Admit fully to his history of psychological, sexual, and physical abusiveness toward any current or past partners whom he has abused. Denial and minimizing need to stop, including discrediting your memory of what happened. He can’t change if he is continuing to cover up, to others or to himself, important parts of what he has done.

2. Acknowledge that the abuse was wrong, unconditionally. He needs to identify the justifications he has tended to use, including the various ways that he may have blamed you, and to talk in detail about why his behaviors were unacceptable without slipping back into defending them.

3. Acknowledge that his behavior was a choice, not a loss of control. For example, he needs to recognize that there is a moment during each incident at which he gives himself permission to become abusive and that he chooses how far to let himself go.

4. Recognize the effects his abuse has had on you and your children, and show empathy for those. He needs to talk in detail about the short-and longterm impact that his abuse has had, including fear, loss of trust, anger, and loss of freedom and other rights. And he needs to do this without reverting to feeling sorry for himself or talking about how hard the experience has been for him.

5. Identify in detail his pattern of controlling behaviors and entitled attitudes. He needs to speak in detail about the day-to-day tactics of abuse he has used. Equally important, he must be able to identify his underlying beliefs and values that have driven those behaviors, such as considering himself entitled to constant attention, looking down on you as inferior, or believing that men aren’t responsible for their actions if “provoked” by a partner.

6. Develop respectful behaviors and attitudes to replace the abusive ones he is stopping. You can look for examples such as improving how well he listens to you during conflicts and at other times, carrying his weight of household responsibilities and child care, and supporting your independence. He has to demonstrate that he has come to accept the fact that you have rights and that they are equal to his.

7. Reevaluate his distorted image of you, replacing it with a more positive and empathic view. He has to recognize that he has had mental habits of focusing on and exaggerating his grievances against you and his perceptions of your weaknesses and to begin instead to compliment you and pay attention to your strengths and abilities.

8. Make amends for the damage he has done. He has to develop a sense that he has a debt to you and to your children as a result of his abusiveness. He can start to make up somewhat for his actions by being consistently kind and supportive, putting his own needs on the back burner for a couple of years, talking with people whom he has misled in regard to the abuse and admitting to them that he lied, paying for objects that he has damaged, and many other steps related to cleaning up the emotional and literal messes that his behaviors have caused. (At the same time, he needs to accept that he may never be able to fully compensate you.)

9. Accept the consequences of his actions. He should stop whining about, or blaming you for, problems that are the result of his abuse, such as your loss of desire to be sexual with him, the children’s tendency to prefer you, or the fact that he is on probation.

10. Commit to not repeating his abusive behaviors and honor that commitment. He should not place any conditions on his improvement, such as saying that he won’t call you names as long as you don’t raise your voice to him. If he does backslide, he cannot justify his abusive behaviors by saying, “But I’ve done great for five months; you can’t expect me to be perfect,” as if a good period earned him chips to spend on occasional abuse.

11. Accept the need to give up his privileges and do so. This means saying good-bye to double standards, to flirting with other women, to taking off with his friends all weekend while you look after the children, and to being allowed to express anger while you are not.

12. Accept that overcoming abusiveness is likely to be a lifelong process. He at no time can claim that his work is done by saying to you, “I’ve changed but you haven’t,” or complain that he is sick of hearing about his abuse and control and that “it’s time to get past all that.” He needs to come to terms with the fact that he will probably need to be working on his issues for good and that you may feel the effects of what he has done for many years.

13. Be willing to be accountable for his actions, both past and future. His attitude that he is above reproach has to be replaced by a willingness to accept feedback and criticism, to be honest about any backsliding, and to be answerable for what he does and how it affects you and your children.

If this sounds like a lot, that’s because it is. But as Bancroft says himself:

Abusive men don’t make lasting changes if they skip any of the above steps, and some are easier than others. Most of my clients find it fairly easy to apologize, for example. In fact, an abuser may weave apologies into his pattern of abuse, so that when he says “I’m sorry,” it becomes another weapon in his hand.

[...]

But even a genuine and sincere apology is only a starting point. Many of my clients make it through the first three steps: They admit to a substantial portion of their abuse; they agree that their actions resulted from choice rather than loss of control; and they apologize. Then they dig in their heels at that point. An abuser’s sense of entitlement is like a rude, arrogant voice screaming inside his head. It yells at him: “You’ve given up too much already; don’t budge another inch. They already talked you into saying your abuse is all your own fault when you know she’s at least half to blame because of the shit that she does. She should be grateful to you for apologizing; that wasn’t easy to do. She’s lucky you’ve gone this far; a lot of guys would tell her to go screw, you know.” And the voice drags him back into the mud that he had finally taken a couple of baby steps out of.

So if your conclusion from all of this is that there is no apology from Oz that will be good enough, what do you mean by “good enough”? Does “good enough” mean, displays that they will be able to affect genuine change on themselves and improve? Because if that’s the case, then you’re right. Abusers can and do sincerely and genuinely apologize, then go on to repeat the cycle of abuse once more.

That is the typical behavior after an apology. If Oz is going to stop being an abuser, they’re going to have to do a whole lot more than offer a good apology.

And this still wasn’t a good apology.

The second apology

This reads like Oz saw our criticisms and then, like a student making cuts to a paper after their teacher’s instruction, cut out everything we specifically objected to without understanding why we took umbrage with it in the first place.

Honestly? This is not a good start.

I’m going to respond to a request I’ve seen that I be more plainspoken and more direct. I originally worried that might come across flippant and dismissive, but I appreciate not everyone sees it the same way. I apologise in advance if this comes across a little too conversational or free-association.

The problem was not you talking “too smart” or with the “wrong tone” as you seemed to say in your conversation with @captain-ameribunny. The problem was that you were more interested in saying what you didn’t do and deflecting accountability than actually owning what you did.

I know I have hurt people and I am sorry. There were times it was absolutely my intent to do harm. Regardless of what reason I had, where I was in that moment, that’s what I did.

So why mention your reasons or “where you were in that moment” at all? Tucked away in the heart of that is the ghost of what you truncated from your first apology- all your attempts to say outside influences drove you to the behavior. It’s like a door you carved into your words. You shoved your justifications behind the threshold then closed the door behind them. Perfectly poised to open at the right opportunity to explain away what you did and why you did it. To others, and to yourself.

If you are one of those people, I apologise. Knowing full well the feelings of alienation that come from someone turning their anger on you, I engaged in that exact anger. I knowingly used that fear to bad ends and displayed a general lack of empathy.

I responded to conflict in destructive, unhealthy, and sometimes objectively cruel ways. I blurred the lines between the minor failures of others and critical flaws that define people for what they are. I used the simple humanity of other people as leverage against them and refused to show compassion for the pain that caused.

I harassed and held grudges against people who didn’t deserve it. When those people defended themselves, I used that natural and rational reaction as a reason to mock them and as proof of the vile image of them I had created.

This section has a very similar problem to the one previous. By claiming they blurred the lines between “the minor failures of others and critical flaws that define people for what they are,” Oz is still subtly saying that the people they went after did something wrong. They’ve essentially labeled their behavior as a destructive overreaction, but leaves room to state that sometimes it was deserved.

Oz of course doesn’t clarify exactly which people “deserved it” and which didn’t.

I said in my previous apology that I am sorry for contributing to a cycle of anger and anguish and I stand by that. What I did made the world a worse place. I excused countless of my own wrongs that went on to hurt innocent people, directly and indirectly. There were times I saw the hurt I caused and simply chose to not care because of whatever validation I found to justify that and all I can say now is that I am sorry.

Honestly, a blanket apology isn’t enough for this. You gleefully trashed people publically for months. Sometimes years. You prided yourself on trying to drive your targets out of the community. If some of those people were innocent, wouldn’t directly coming out about how you mistreated them and you were wrong do a lot to help make things right?

But instead, you’re still asking for people to approach you in private for anything beyond general apologies.

I do not know who does and does not wish to speak with me about any of this and I do not want anyone to feel put-upon or isolated by me trying to initiate that. If you feel you would benefit from speaking to me about any way I’ve wronged you, please, I invite you to do so. I want to hear what you have to say and I would appreciate the chance to extend my apology to you personally.

First off, you’ve framed it in a way to sound like you’re leaving this at a blanket apology for the benefit of the people you’ve hurt.

The thing is, if you’re not willing to publically walk back the specific terrible things you said and did, what’s to stop that harm from continuing? All the whispers you spread about people will persist. Reputations will still lie in tatters.

And furthermore, if you’re not willing to publically state which specific examples were wrong, you’ve given us plenty of room to believe you’re apologizing for those examples without you actually ever stating you were abusive in that particular situation.

After all, you just reminded us that sometimes you went after people for “minor failures” but other times it was because of “critical flaws.” Which was which? Are you willing to own up to the exact examples you completely mistreated someone?

Frankly, it does you more good to leave this at a blanket apology than it does the people you hurt. It saves you from having to specifically look us in the eye and tell us that all that fire you breathed at so-and-so was actually abuse.

And beyond this, now that we’ve gone through your entire second apology- are you going to own up to how you first responded to people calling you out with unbridled rage? Then with talking repeatedly about how this was all just manufactured outrage that was going to blow over? Then with claims that other outside forces made you this way, that people enabled you, that your intentions were good, that this was just a relapse, and we should qualify and excuse your behavior for any or all of these reasons?

If you don’t actively own up to- and stop- this kind of behavior, then you won’t change.

Your only qualification on this post was that you weren’t plainspoken and direct enough the first time. Really, if that’s what you think the problem was, then you don’t get it at all.

So while we’re speaking of some of the specific things you said, let’s take a look at some examples.

Specific examples of behavior

The Tweets

Let’s recount the last time you actually got specific about anything you were accused of: https://imgur.com/a/GFfW0f2

This is the album of tweets that I linked in the last post I made. You’re still pretty general about it, sure. But you are speaking very clearly about various topics and saying that under no circumstances have you endorsed or done them.

As I pointed out in my last post, we have screenshots that show you did some of these things. So, is your stance still that you did not in fact do any of it, despite our hard evidence that you did? Which of the screenshots are things that you didn’t actually do? Are the people who provided those screenshots liars, or did you genuinely wrong them? I’d like to hear your explanation. Publically, please.

<<SASS>>

I’m going to start this section by linking @honhonoura ‘s post: http://honhonoura.tumblr.com/post/175621265651/i-am-a-knight-of-the-round-vegetable

But the reason I’m speaking on this in particular is, over the course of things, I was provided with some screenshots that I am now sharing with permission. Since you deleted your blog, it’s much harder to find evidence of your abuse, but as we’ve observed some of your victims recorded what you did to them long before. All of these posts were there. And they were very public, I might add.

Oz is going on about this here because one of the <<SASS>> members was autistic.

In it, Oz has stated that if someone is too mentally ill to accept responsibility for abusive actions and can’t stop themselves from abusing other people, they shouldn’t run a guild or put themselves in charge of others.

Here, Oz is very insistent that someone who has been abusive paints themselves as the victim, they’re doing something wrong. I presume that “painting yourself as a victim” includes stating that someone else abused you, which motivated you to be abusive yourself.

In both of these posts, Oz has made very strong statements about abuse and what it is acceptable for the abuser to do and not do. They were made in the context of calling someone else out, the context that @honhonoura elaborated on in her post.

Oz, do you still stand by your opinions in these posts? Do you believe you were justified in posting them? Do you believe they were aimed at an appropriate target? Would you say you went after <<SASS>> because you perceived, to use your own words, a “minor failure” or a “critical flaw that define people for what they are”?

Your post about <<SASS>> in 2018 before you deleted your Tumblr certainly gave every indication that you stood by what you did them in 2014. You were very willing to talk about them the same way today that you did back then, so I would like to hear your stance on everything I’ve just shared now. And again, since you went to such great lengths to publically smear their name, I would like your response publically please.

Balmung Blessings

I would like to share with everyone the two posts that motivated me to unfollow Balmung Blessings long before I knew who ran it.

Post 1: https://imgur.com/a/PU09rG1

Post 2: https://imgur.com/a/uuTL4tD

The first post is very... long.

At the time I read it, not knowing Oz was involved, the part that gave me pause began where they spoke about how the blog was approaching 800 followers, which starts on image 9 of the album.

It struck me as deeply uncomfortable that their number of followers motivated their thoughts towards how that would give them power over the community. They spoke of it as influence and mused on how they “weren’t sure what to do with that ‘power.’” As if that was something that could be wielded over people.

Uh. When I approached 800 followers, you want to know what my biggest thought was?

“Ho jeez that’s a lot of people HOLY FUCK WHERE DID YOU ALL COME FROM man I better not be a fuckhead.”

The primary feeling that my follower count gives me- aside from general “when did you all get here??”- is a sense of responsibility. If a lot of people are going to read what I write, that means I should try extra hard to only contribute in productive and positive ways because I don’t want to inadvertently hurt people.

The very notion of looking at that number and perceiving it as power makes me feel sick. Physically ill, with a twist of revulsion to my stomach. I don’t care how many followers I have. I’m not here to control people.

Post 2 followed the first shortly after. So, this means that after Oz wrote about how much value they placed on the number of followers their blogs receive- specifically about the sense of power over other people it gave them- stated that they follow many FFXIV blogs because they interacted with Balmung Blessings.

If you interacted with Balmung Blessings, they were likely to bestow followership upon you- and all the significance Oz ascribed to it. Something like quid pro quo.

Back when these posts were written, this made me extremely uncomfortable. I didn’t like the idea that my interaction with the blog was being viewed by the blogrunner as a contribution to a platform to community power. So, I quietly unfollowed the blog.

Learning that Oz was the runner of Balmung Blessings certainly puts those two posts in a different light.

Oz, after all, has placed a great deal of importance on having weight in the community. They have used what influence they’ve sought to gather like a cudgel against other people.

They were also not above using the Balmung Blessings platform to suit their own means.

Post 3: https://imgur.com/a/Y439os2

This was made shortly before Oz deleted the blog.

[As a sidenote, I absolutely do not condone sending anonymous hate to anyone under any circumstances. And certainly not spurred by a secrets blog.]

First, even as Oz states they try not to pay too much attention to followers, they still referred to their number of followers as if that was some sort of personal endorsement. They continued to ascribe great meaning to that number, as if that gave them something.

Second, here we see Oz using the Balmung Blessings platform to discount the accusations being made against them- even though on Balmung Blessings they never stated their ownership of the blog- referring to it as “passing drama.”

Third, they then proceed to talk about how callout posts don’t fix things, they are destructive, and they are wrong.

Oz, is this an opinion you share of the callout posts that you made? Because you have made many.

And finally,

Post 4: https://imgur.com/a/u9TNaUb

Here under the Balmung Blessings platform, Oz asserts that “anyone has a place in our community as long as they’re doing their level best to be a good and conscientious member,” however if “someone thinks actively spreading hate and inevitably some amount of completely fallacious gossip is doing that,” then they need to either change or leave.

Between the posts about <<SASS>> and the messages relayed through the Balmung Blessings platform, it is clear that Oz has very strong opinions about what is right and wrong behavior when it comes to the actions of other people.

So, Oz. You’ve said an awful lot of things about how people who are shitty and toxic and abusive need to stop leading groups, how they have no excuses for their behavior, and how they either need to change or leave.

What would you want someone to do if they’d wronged you the same way you’ve wronged other people?

Are you willing to apply the same standards that you’ve ascribed to other people’s behavior for yourself? Were the standards themselves wrong? I would also like an answer to this. And just like the others, I would like it publically please.

Why are these answers important?

As detailed by Bancroft, just apologizing- sincerely or no- isn’t enough for an abuser to change.

The abuser has to fix their fundamental beliefs and behaviors. If they don’t, they will repeat the cycle of abuse.

The specific examples I’ve brought up throughout this post target a few main points in Oz’s conduct.

1. Denial, deflection, and poisoning the well. Oz has used all of these tactics to avoid taking responsibility for their actions. They have denied behavior we all saw proof of. They have deflected the accusations numerous ways- whether stating it’s all just drama that will blow over, blaming it on Adrian, so on and so forth. And they have actively smeared their targets in ways that are intended to make others distrust or disregard any accusations of wrongdoing.

All of these are common abuser behaviors used to escape criticism and responsibility. If Oz is to change, they will have to fully acknowledge the specific ways they perform these behaviors and then dismantle them.

2. Entitlement. Abusers act on double-standards. They are entitled to enact a certain behavior or feel a particular emotion, but the abused is not. Anger is a common target. The abuser believes their anger is acceptable, however the anger of the abused is unreasonable or unjustified. And as Bancroft points out, just because the abuser apologizes, that doesn’t mean they’ve given these beliefs up.

If Oz is to change, they will have to acknowledge the disparities in their belief system that they utilized to justify their own behavior while castigating that same behavior in others. But not only that, they will have to relinquish all double-standards and any of the advantages those gave them.

3. Power. To bring back the quote from Bancroft used in my previous post:

The term abuse is about power; it means that a person is taking advantage of a power imbalance to exploit or control someone else.

Oz’s fixation on and interpretation of follower counts speaks to a deepset focus on establishing power over other people. Indeed, that sort of power is something Oz has regularly sought out. They have openly spoken of getting a thrill out of making others afraid, and one need only look to one of their “crusades” to see how willing they are to use this power like a sledgehammer against someone else.

If Oz is to change, they are going to have to give this up. Period. Because fixing abusive behavior requires the abuser to relinquish the advantages that behaving abusively gave, Oz needs to relinquish their desire to obtain power. And they absolutely need to refrain from using their social platforms against other people.

These three points are merely a handful of the beliefs and behaviors Oz will need to fix if they are going to change.

Putting up a couple blanket apologies and telling people they can contact them privately for anything more isn’t anywhere close to what needs to happen.

Given how perfectly everything fits into the cycle of abuse thus far, and with how rare it is for an abuser to actually change, I would advise everyone to be very cautious about taking their apologies as a sign that they will improve.

Oz, since I know you’re going to read this- I’ve said it once before and I’ll say it again. If you aren’t already getting professional help for this you should get some. And you should try to find someone who specializes in helping abusers. Be upfront with them about what you did, and don’t try to wriggle away from it.

If you are truly sincere about believing your behavior was reprehensible, then do what it takes to change it. This is what it takes. And it’s a long hard journey, but if you have the bravery and the strength to follow through, then it’ll be worth it in the end when you never hurt another person this way again.

#longpost #thelegendofkungjew #abuse #community talk #extremely long #it kind of exploded #but I had a lot to say #this literally took 6 hours

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