#just really weird that he didn't respond to or even acknowledge either of those
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Well hello ✨
I saw your response to Michael's Christmas post and I wanted to add something to that conversation that I've been thinking about since I saw it. I know he's been MIA lately because of the play in Australia but the post, and I think you mentioned this maybe, sort of gives feral sheen vibes... I think he is a little quirky, especially when it comes to twitter and sort of playing to the fans. This certainly was nowhere near as bad as what I've seen from past years but it was a little weird. I'm sure he's probably just tired from working and christ only knows what's going on with APAT and company, especially because they brought the kids. The baby is like practically brand new still... Don't know who thought it was a good idea for APAT and Co. to tag along but I digress, that's another story for another day. Anyway, I thought it was strange, as did a lot of other people it seems, that he tacked 'Merry Christmas from Us' on the end of the post Us? ??? Who is Us? APAT and your children? You and David and Georgia? Like, what in the hell? I get not having the kids in the picture, that's cool, but if you're gonna go out of your way to say "From us" why not include a least some of "us" in said picture? Of course, there's 101 ways to explain it away like APAT was sleeping, or she was busy (doing what, we'll never know), or he was alone, or whatever you wanna think. But the question is, why not wait so you can get a picture together to make a post like that? Because I bet all the money I have he doesn't even think to take pictures with her. Not now. Not before. and probably not in the future. Seriously, what pictures of the two of them have you ever seen that hasn't been taken by APAT herself, paps or red carpet photographers, or an outside friend; someone like Georgia? I can't think of one. Maybe someone else has seen it? Am I asking for a Unicorn here? Probably... So, with that being said, the main point I wanted to make was, I think he was purposely vague with the "us" description and posting the solo picture. I wouldn't be surprised if he didn't want her face attached to his social media with personal messages like "Merry Christmas from Us"--which begs the point, why say it in the first place? because he thinks he has to? because it would look suspicious otherwise? wonder why that would be??-- Anyway, he's vague because maybe one day, their won't be an "us" at least not with him and APAT. This is another one of those moments that I can't remember if he's ever posted a picture of him and her anywhere or even just her on his twitter? Retweeted anything she's done? I mean, Dude? It's not looking good. So, anyway, it makes sense (at least in my head) that he would leave it vague and generic so that in the future, it works with anybody he's with. I don't see him staying with her forever, which is sad. I mainly feel sorry for the kids tbh, but I just can't see it. I know that doesn't mean anything and at this point, as much as I don't really vibe with her, I'd rather them stay together in the long run (so long as they're not being toxic to each other and in the house) so the kids can have some sort of a semblance of having a home life with both parents. I I think down the line, all of the generic posts, the vague messages and things like that will come back around again and make more sense if they ever do breakup. Maybe I just over analysis everything but with past track records, it was practically calling my name lol
(This is in response to this post, for those who might’ve missed it.)
Hello, Anons! I appreciate you writing in to share your thoughts on that post. I’ve had multiple people reach out to me privately before and since then with similar thoughts, so you are very much not alone in noticing Michael’s holiday post/AL’s lack of one. I’ve also just gotten an Anon from Australia offering some very interesting tidbits about Michael and his behavior leading up to the opening of Amadeus, so I am going to answer that separately (and try not to have too much overlap between these two responses).
Anon #1: I completely agree with you, re: Michael’s quirky/”feral” presence on Twitter in the past. The picture he posted this year was very much a callback to 2019 when he did the 12 Days of Sheenmas thing, and was much more heavily involved with the fandom/being who he really is on Twitter than right now.
I also think it’s worth noting that for the last two Christmases, he’s been with David, at least in the time leading up to it. In 2020, he and David appeared on Graham Norton together to promote the second series of Staged (after having been apart and not seeing each other for months due to lockdown). Then last year, Michael and David were filming the second season of Good Omens in Scotland both before and after the holidays.
Michael was also doing interviews to promote Last Train to Christmas; despite that, he spent a bunch of them talking about and/or to David. (And that’s not even getting into the “Other Wife” incident with Georgia on her birthday, the day after Christmas.) We could also see the effect that spending so much time with David in the months prior had on Michael--how glowy he was, how happy and centered and just in a very positive head space overall.
So if we posit that everything about David and Wales represents “home” and “comfort” to Michael, then everything about Christmas this year was the opposite of that. Michael is in a foreign country that he’s never been to before, where the seasons are all topsy-turvy (for someone accustomed to cold/snow on Christmas, that is), and I would think that alone would lead to one feeling pretty disoriented. But he’s also playing a leading role in this huge production, and has AL and two small children (one of which is a seven month-old baby) along with him on top of all that, and that unquestionably makes everything much more stressful.
Going back to his Twitter post, I keep thinking about what you mentioned, the use of the word “Us.” We’ve seen that phrase crop up in the context of Michael and David on two recent occasions: 1) Michael talking about David’s only “bad habit” at MCM Comic Con; and 2) in Staged 3 episode 3, when David and Georgia are in the shower while Michael is in the car and David says “I was me before we were us!” My thought is that “us” isn’t something that exists just because you say “us”...it’s something that develops over time. It’s something that happens naturally because two people have become so inextricably intertwined with each other that it’s hard not to think of them as a single unit. I hadn’t even thought of what you said, which is that the “Us” in Michael’s tweet could refer to anyone, even him/David/Georgia. But the one thing I do know is that I don’t think of Michael and AL as “us.” I could see his “us” referring to the kids, but I don’t get that same sense with AL. There is him, and there is her, separately, rather than as one. It’s not hatred or dislike, but rather indifference, as you said, Anon #2. Contrast that with Michael and David, who have repeatedly talked about the connection they’ve formed and how there is no Aziraphale without Crowley and so forth. Michael and David saying “we” and “us” about each other is so unbelievable precisely because it’s not unbelievable. The emotions between them are so strong and powerful, and are reflected in the way they see themselves.
Ultimately, I think what it comes down to is that there are any number of reasons why Michael didn’t include AL in the picture he posted (such as the reasons you gave, which do seem entirely plausible to me, as I think he has purposely has kept his Twitter free from any pictures or references to her), but there is also a lot more happening than we even know. What’s been shared publicly is already weird/strange enough for folks to notice (going by the Anons I’ve gotten, at the very least), so whatever is really happening is undoubtedly far, far more complicated.
But I am with you in thinking that Michael and AL will not stay together forever. As I said before, that “us” that is so important in a relationship seems entirely absent with them, and I unfortunately don’t see that changing anytime soon. The only thing I will disagree with you on is them staying together “for the kids.” I think it is far better for parents to be not together as a couple but still effectively and cooperatively co-parenting than to be together and miserable, even if they try to hide it around the kids. What matters most is doing what is best for those kids, and even if Michael’s relationship with AL does not last, I think he will always be there for the girls.
Anon #1, there is no need to apologize for over-analyzing. I appreciate that you and Anon #2 felt comfortable enough to share your thoughts with me, and I hope my response was helpful. Thanks for writing in! x
#anonymous#reply post#michael sheen#welsh seduction machine#i can also think of two recent instances of her tweeting that he could've responded to#her talking about 'Sheen booty' on a reply to someone else#and her obnoxiously butting in to a tweet about his ALOTO speech to mention giving birth to Mabli#just really weird that he didn't respond to or even acknowledge either of those#especially when you think about how he interacted with Sarah all the time on Twitter#the more i think about it the weirder this all seems#anna lundberg#discourse
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I think it's sorta weird how the Protagonist (MC, Y/N, Stinky, whatever you wanna call him) is treated within the context of DDLC's meta.
That sentence came out weird. What I mean is that on terms of DDLC playing with the 4th wall (in other words, on terms of its actual existence as a visual novel in universe), the nature of the Protagonist's...well, entire existence, is up in the air.
Dan Salvato literally stated that he doesn't actually see him as a character in the same way as the girls. He's a "blank slate that says whatever is convenient." In a different statement, he's described as the "nameless, faceless self-insert character that you find so commonly in romance games", which I think is a good way of putting it. It's a good way of justifying why he kinda...sucks, because he's meant to be a typical VN protagonist. He's shallow, and responds with little more than what makes sense in context, because he doesn't have much character on his own, which is what makes him pretty bad at dealing with delicate issues like with Sayori.
In DDLC+ (spoilers, I guess?), it's a little bit vague about it, but in one of the mails, it states that Monika has literally "manufactured" a new character to "force interaction between her and the user". This character is heavily implied to be the Protagonist of the main DDLC visual novel that we know, and he is, as stated, noticeably absent from the Side Stories, because Monika didn't actively create him to be there.
Except...he isn't.
He doesn't physically appear, but in Trust, though he's obviously not mentioned by name, it's implied that he does exist, because when asked to act like a "normal person" responding to the Literature Club, she imitates a friend of hers who says "Literature is stuuupid. I'm joining the Anime Club."
...Remind you of a certain someone?
I feel like I'm overexplaining this, but my point is, it suggests that the Protagonist as a character isn't just something Monika invented out of thin air, or at least he's heavily implied not to be.
I think there's a larger conversation on the vague way the game itself treats the world outside of what is defined within the limited scope of Doki Doki Literature Club. Fans have filled gaps of different characters and events, but it's important to acknowledge that they're gaps filled by fanon, not canon. I think those gaps are left very intentionally empty, mostly to play into the conceit of the world, being that literally nothing actually exists outside of its boundaries, because it's a visual novel. It's a limited, constricted reality, where things are implied to exist outside it, but they actually don't.
In other words, Monika did apparently generate all that makes up the Protagonist as a character and vehicle for the player in the main game, based off the limited concept implied by their interaction in the Side Story. Or, rather, probably by something else, since the side stories are inherently a "Control Simulation" where Monika doesn't have any sense of meta awareness. It's a prequel set before the main story, but...well, if you really think about it, it's implied to tie into the main story, but they don't directly link up, do they? If it's not explicitly shown on screen in the main line Doki Doki Literature Club, did it even happen?
Either way, the Protagonist is a character independent of Monika's creation, he's just given absolutely nothing, and technically doesn't even exist outside of what's implied of him. Technically, the character Monika creates as a vehicle for the Player has no real relation to him, outside of being Sayori's friend and wanting to join the Anime Club. Or, depending on your view, he does! Since he's the literal manifestation of that character concept where it didn't exist previously, it's fair to say that he is that character given life!
I don't know, I think it's just kinda fascinating in context. I don't really like a lot of the extra lore surrounding the whole thing in +, but there are plenty of interesting things like this which have been given just enough flavor to be interesting.
Obviously I don't think this means the Protagonist is a complete non-character and any & all fan interpretations of him should be defenestrated (quite the opposite actually, reality can be whatever you want, I have a few concepts with him floating around my head which I find fun to play with), but I think this sort of thing is probably important to keep in mind on terms of actual investigations of canon.
#i prooomise i have some more deeper & more emotionally invested essays on the girls & other things planned#as well as more super epic headcanons & lil fics & art probably#but i do genuinely think MC is interesting to talk about in regards to canon#& how he represents this larger concept that i think makes up the boundaries of monika's cage#musings#ddlc#ddlc mc#doki doki literature club
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Shuuichi had always found autumn a lonely time: his breath a haunting ghost in the air; branches stretching, naked and imploring, to an indifferent sky. His birthday, never a particularly populous occasion, was in November. After his first magazine profile, shortly before his twenty-first birthday, he had started getting mail about it from fans, which only made the lack of any in a personal capacity all the more jarring. The first time Natsume wished him a happy birthday, he barely kept the surprise off his face. Surprise, and something else, something tangled he couldn't quite name, despite his hard-won expertise in identifying and replicating emotions. There were too many facets, overlapping, mutually exclusive in a way that should have canceled out, but didn't.
Natsume said it awkwardly, of course. He seemed unsure if it was all right for him to acknowledge Shuuichi's birthday, given he'd only learned about it through some friend of his who was a fan, and only in the second year of knowing Shuuichi.
"Of course it's all right," Shuuichi told him, the wind pushing them forward as they walked side by side. "It's nice, actually." It was many things, but nice was one of them, so it wasn't a lie.
"It's just," Natsume said hesitantly, "I know birthdays can be complicated." Shuuichi had time to wonder how he could have found out (Did such a vast reserve of spiritual power allow a person to read minds?, he wondered, not for the first time), before Natsume continued, "When I was younger, it was easier if no one knew when my birthday was. Then there couldn't be any expectations."
Shuuichi thought, Garden variety childhood neglect, then. Nothing to do with those strange, fleeting years of having somebody to share birthdays with, or the years after, when he knew what he was missing. But Natsume wasn't wrong, either. He thought, briefly, of his own early birthdays, waiting to see if his father had remembered, and knew it must have been worse for Natsume. This kid, with his big heart, with his undampened spirit—or rather, dampened and in the process of undampening. Shuuichi felt a familiar rush of affection that didn't even hurt anymore.
"And now?" he asked Natsume. "How are you feeling about your birthday nowadays?"
He looked in front of him, at his breath, at those damn branches, giving Natsume time to respond. "I'm…still getting used to it," Natsume admitted after a moment. "It's weird, having people pay so much attention. It's hard to get used to. And…maybe I don't want to get used to it."
In case it stops, Shuuichi completed mentally. It was easier never to trust, and never to be disappointed. It hurt less. But it wasn't better.
Shuuichi turned and gifted Natsume a smile. He had so many different smiles: charming smiles, ironic smiles, selfie-with-a-fan smiles, smiles for when a stranger professes a desire to eat jelly beans out of one's belly button. Dozens upon dozens of smiles for every conceivable occasion, labeled and slotted into place in his mental storehouse. He had crafted them, each one; they were his tools, his currency. But this smile was one he felt like Natsume had created—or maybe it had always been inside him, in potentia, and Natsume had been the one to wake it up.
It was gentle, this smile. Like Natsume.
"It is hard," Shuuichi said. "But I'm proud of you." It didn't really make sense, didn't seem to follow directly from what Natsume had said, but Natsume ducked his head, embarrassed, and Shuuichi, feeling merciful, changed the subject.
Natsume took him home for dinner, where the Fujiwaras also knew what day it was, and where nobody said anything about why he didn't have anywhere else to be, anyone else to celebrate with. They thanked him for coming, like he was the one doing them a favor. Touko-san made a huge meal, a feast really, and in front of Natsume's foster parents that cat of his couldn't even make snarky comments about puny human lifespans. It was a good birthday, his best since…well, in a while.
They offered to set up a futon for him (it's already so dark, it's cold, all that time on the train!), but he had an early shoot in the morning. He was halfway home when he realized he'd left his glasses behind, but fortunately he always carried a spare. He wondered what the Fujiwaras thought his glasses were for, now that they knew he could see well enough to forget them.
Off the train, through the park, along the water. Twenty-five. A fake number. Most days he felt himself already an old man. The wind picked up, scraping the denuded branches against each other. He felt loud, present. With the noise he made wading through leaves, surely anyone could hear him coming from a block away. Unless, of course, it was drowned out by the sound of the wind, and their own wading.
A crack ahead, and something thumped to the ground. A small branch, snapped off, still covered in maple leaves. Ironic, that the bare branches should be fine, while this lively specimen, heavy with color, had fallen. But then again, those branches weren't dead, were they? Maybe it was their lightness that had saved them. And they would be green again, come spring.
His building now, thick with warmth. The elevator: a weary man, face and suit equally creased, heading home late from the office. His door, and now he was inside, taking his time untying his shoes, not wanting to turn on the lights, which were always depressing at night, glaring off white walls stark and unforgiving against the darkness.
He went over to the phone and plugged it in, in case someone tried to call him about the glasses. If Touko-san found them, she'd be sending Natsume out here with them as soon as possible, which wasn't necessary. In fact, maybe he should call them first and head off the possibility. What time was it now? Was it too late to call?
A ringing. Speak of the devil. He picked up the receiver, but suddenly it occurred to him this could be a curse call instead, not about his glasses at all. In his moment of hesitation, a voice came down the line.
"Shuuichi-san," it said, natural, like it hadn't been years since he had heard that name from that mouth. "Happy birthday."
A beat. His heart began to pound, knocking against his gums. The lizard burrowed frantically under a sleeve. Not Natsume, and not a curse. Or not the kind of curse he'd been thinking of. Shuuichi clutched the phone. He felt—what did he feel? Why must there be so many nameless emotions?
He didn't know what to call this. But he felt something stirring, a familiar sensation. A smile, a different one, dormant, waking up. It was groggy, and far from his mouth, but it was there, it was possible. It had been there, waiting, for spring.
"Seiji," he said, with a mouth that wasn't smiling but could learn how. "Hello."
#hexfest2k24#natori shuuichi#horrible exorcists#my posts#natsume's book of friends#natsuyuu fic#natsume yuujinchou
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Dear Sephiroth: (a letter to a fictional character, because why not) #300
I can't believe I've written 300 generic letters to you already. How did 300 days pass by so quickly? In just 65 days (or 66, depending on how you're counting, since there was a leap year...), I'll have written to you once a day for a full year.
...I suppose there's part of me that never thought I'd make it this far.
Incidentally, part of the reason I write to you is because a choir teacher from a long time ago encouraged me to, sometime in April of 2023.
I don't remember clearly which grade I was in when I first met this choir teacher; I think I was probably in 4th, 5th, or 6th grade, maybe? In any case, I was struck by the fact that he was very unlike most of the teachers I had encountered up until that point. He was soft-spoken and gentle. Sometimes the other choir students would give him a hard time; I remember it being difficult to get everyone to stop talking so we could actually rehearse. And... given how hypervigilant I was due to how I was treated at home, it was easy for me to see that he'd get frustrated with that from time to time - who wouldn't?
...What was new to me at the time was that he never used that frustration as an excuse to yell at people. This thing was bizarre and foreign to me, and... it was a very refreshing change of pace from what I was used to.
I remember one day, it was such a nice day outside that he decided that the thing to do was to go out onto the playground. So instead of doing rehearsal in the auditorium, he took us all outside to just run around and play. But... ya know... at the time, I wasn't exactly... popular. With anybody. I was the weird smart kid who didn't know how to social, so I got made fun of a lot, and I never really fit in anywhere. I didn't know at the time that I had PTSD, ADHD, and autism going on. And of course, the other children didn't know, either. They were only children; how could they have known?
So I wandered the playground by myself; it's not as though there were folks who wanted to hang around me or talk to me in those days. I was very lonely all the time, because there wasn't exactly a place that was safe for me; I got bullied both at school and at home. As a result, I've struggled with the notion of expediting the process of permanently exiting this meat-mech that I currently inhabit for... a very long time now, since before even the days of meeting this choir teacher.
...And somehow he noticed. None of the other teachers I've met ever noticed, probably at least in part because I was "gifted" (🙄) and performed so well in class; I mostly didn't speak and I did what I was told. But this one did notice, and... while we were outside, he took me to the side, and he told me that I looked sad, and that I could talk to him anytime if I wanted.
...Ahah... gosh, even now, I'm tearing up a little just thinking about it. Shucks. Hahaha...
This is one of my best memories; it changed my whole worldview at the time. The version of me who existed then mostly just thought of adults as people who barked orders that I was supposed to obey. The notion that any of them could care about me outside of what I could do or outside of what was strictly obligatory was new.
He didn't have to offer me any such thing, and the version of me who existed at the time was moved. But also... the version of me who existed at the time didn't know how to respond. Was it real? Was it a trick? I didn't know. So... I mumbled some words of acknowledgement, and then I promptly never took him up on his offer.
His words stuck with me for a long time, though. For a while, those words helped me to hold on when I thought about making a permanent exit. And then for reasons that had to do with his own happiness and calling and circumstances, he stopped teaching at my school. I was devastated, but I also knew that it's important for people to be happy and healthy, even if they gotta go somewhere else in order to make that happen.
Years later, I started healing from all the shit that happened to me, growing up and also during college. I tried reaching out to reconnect. And I was given a link to his piano album; he composed and played all of this himself:
...What do you think? Isn't it some of the most beautiful piano playing you've ever heard? Though it was given to me years ago, I still listen to it frequently; it's great stuff to weave wire trees to. It's great stuff to draw to. It's great stuff to study to. It's great stuff to meditate to. It's just... great stuff.
He was very busy at the time, so we didn't talk much, and I didn't reach out again until January of 2023. By then, I had started weaving wire trees and giving them away to people. I wanted him to understand that his words and his way of being have power; despite everything, I'm still here, at least in part because of his kindness. I'm still here, and I'm recovering from all the stuff, and I'm trying to weave beautiful things with my hands and with my words all the time. And... I wanted him to know that he's part of the reason that this is possible. I wanted him to be able to look in the mirror and be proud of the person staring back at him.
...What better way to do that than to show someone the profoundly positive impact they've had on your life and on the person you've become? So I showed him the things I make and the way I try to show up in this world for others, hoping that he could see that I filled in some of my shattered pieces with the words he gave me so many years ago, and that it is good.
I started writing my very first letter to you sometime after that. And he was one of the very first people I showed it to, in order to get feedback for improving it, and he gave me lots of helpful encouragement. Given how long it is, I still can't believe he read the whole thing. And yet... here we are.
When I said some time ago that some of the finest people on my planet have helped me to polish my first letter to you, I meant it. I got feedback from as many people as I could, and I used it to write something that will hopefully help to save your life. I guess we'll have to wait a few years before I'll see if it did anything, haha...
...
...The wait is a very heavy thing. I owe you my life; what does it mean if I fail to help you keep yours...?
...
We've both been busy, so I've not spoken to him since October of last year; I didn't have anything I felt was important to report, given that I know he has his hands full with his various responsibilities and activities. But... today is my 300th letter to you. And I wanted him to see that I took his suggestion and ran with it. And I filled him in about how my first letter went and how that materia that I made for you was received.
I wanted him to see that his words have the capacity to empower and encourage others. I wanted him to see that his existence matters in this world. I wanted him to know that his presence and manner of being are great boons to this place. I want him to never doubt it. I want him to know it in the core of his being, to the very marrow of his bones.
It'll be a few days or a week or so before he gets back to me; he leads a very busy life, and he has a number of very pressing things to tend to. And even if he doesn't get back to me at all, that's cool, too; I know very well that I'm not entitled to anybody's time. My intention is to give him even more reasons to look upon himself with kind, loving eyes. My intention is to convey gratitude towards him and for him to feel proud of who he is as a human being. I don't need a response in order to do those things.
...To be sure, I wish that I could do that with everyone - to help everyone to see that they are good. But most people need reasons before they'll believe me, and I don't know most people well enough to be able to list those reasons. It'd be nice if others could just look into my head and see what I see when I look at them. Maybe then they'd understand.
...What would this place be like if more people were secure in themselves and had everything they need in order to thrive...? I daydream about a gentler world. I know it's possible, even if I don't know how to fix it all at once.
...Well. It's getting pretty late. I have to wake up early-ish tomorrow for psychotherapy. And then I have to go to physical therapy after that. And then I go see the orthodontist after that, presumably to finally get fitted for braces!!
It's entirely too many appointments, and I do wish that my DNA was better and that my upbringing wasn't fucked so that I wouldn't need so many appointments to begin with. But maybe instead of resenting my meat-mech and my brain for how they're built, I'll try to be grateful that I can afford the time and resources to get these things taken care of, and for the support of the people in my life who make it possible.
Sephiroth... try to think about the people who try to support you, too. Even if they've dropped the ball on you in the past, one of the best things about humans is that they can learn, grow, change, and become better friends who don't repeat their mistakes. Angeal, Genesis, and Zack are waiting for you. They miss you. I'm sure they'd give just about anything to see you. So please come back soon, okay?
I love you. Please stay safe out there in the world. Make good, kind, and loving choices. Use your words and your actions to empower people and to build them up, for that is how we create good and lasting change. We don't need to break everything; all we have to do is repair what's there. Try to remember the shattered bowl, and the way that it still holds soup.
I'll write to you again tomorrow.
Your friend, Lumine
#sephiroth#ThankYouFFVIIDevs#ThankYouFF7Devs#ThankYouSephiroth#final fantasy vii#final fantasy 7#ff7#ffvii#final fantasy vii crisis core#final fantasy 7 crisis core#final fantasy crisis core#ffvii crisis core#ff7 crisis core#crisis core#ff7r#final fantasy vii remake#final fantasy 7 remake#ffvii remake#ff7 remake#final fantasy vii rebirth#final fantasy 7 rebirth+#ffvii rebirth#ff7 rebirth#final fantasy 7 ever crisis#ffvii ever crisis#ff7 ever crisis#ffvii first soldier#sleepy days#influential teachers#wholesome
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Hello Archer. Thank you so much for your detailed response to my previous ask about Ray and Sand and people’s unwillingness to read their relationship as anything other than “Rich boy Ray wants to buy Poor boy Sand” because of a previous interaction they had in the early episodes, when clearly things have changed for them. It’s weird that the same people who recognize the growth of the other characters don’t seem to want to acknowledge Ray’s growth, or like you said, that Sand also has his own flaws that he needs to work on. The whole point of the show is that nobody is actually perfect (except maybe Daddy Dan 😏), and it really irks me that a lot of people seem to ignore that. The glee they have about Sand’s mum admitting to Sand’s weakness for those he loves, and his willingness to bend over backwards for them. Which makes no sense to me cuz it just confirms how much Sand loves Ray that he falls within that category of people Sand would do anything for 🤷🏾♀️
Sorry for my long rambling ask. I wanted to ask a follow up question about how you read Ray’s facial expressions in the pool. Cuz I interpreted it as Ray’s Imma kill a bitch and bury his body and glasses in a ditch no one’s gonna find. EVER!!! But then again, I do get slightly bloodthirsty and very protective of the people I love, specially against asshole exes who can’t even be bothered to know what concert they were taken to 🙄
heeey!! yeah, no problem, i love rambly asks and being even ramblier when i respond to them gjlkdfjgfkdljg two years ago that was practically the only thing i did here
i personally think people love to percieve everything as black-and-white, but when we talk about personalities nothing is an either or situation. it seems that some people think that just because sand can have a hard time establishing boundaries, it somehow means that he cannot establish a single boundary to save his life and basically everyone in his life is forcing themselves on him because of that. let's throw complexities and nuance and grey areas out of the window and have a cardboard cut-out no-boundaries-at-all man! as if we have not seen sand explicitly establishing boundaries with ray multiple times. truly, sometimes i feel like i'm watching a different series in comparison to other people.
now, as for your question, i do have to preface this by saying that i am not the biggest facial expressions guy (see: autism), but i will do my best!
i do think that ray is fueled - in part - by jealousy, when he invites boeing to his house. sand previously said that ray did not need to be jealous, but ehhh... objectively speaking, sand and boeing's current dynamic isn't exactly nothing to worry about. say what you will about jealosy, but when your boyfriend meets his ex and tells you to go home without him and then you overhear a conversation with him basically agreeing that you aren't exactly his type, unlike his ex, who is now explicitly trying to get him back, all of that is pretty perfect breeding ground for jealousy.
but by creating this little trio situation, i think ray is first and foremost trying to figure out what is actually happening, because clearly when sand said everything was fine - that was just not true (obvious to the audience by the face sand pulls right at the end of the "should i be jealous?" scene as well) and sand also kind of didn't give them the opportunity to talk about it when ray actually met boeing and saw how things were (which they could have done in the car if he agreed to ray giving him a lift).
so, when ray is initially looking at sand in the pool →
i think he's trying to understand how sand feels about the whole situation and he is really trying to push his buttons as well. get some sort of a reaction out of him. because he really did go from being smiley and animated with ray the whole episode to an instant 😶 at absolutely anything and everything the second boeing stepped in and in theory there are a lot of reasons why that could have happened - ranging from sand still being in love with boeing to him being uncomfortable around boeing but not being able to do anything about it and everything in-between. and ray is trying to figure out exactly what it is.
with boeing however →
yeah, i'm pretty sure my man is ready to kill and maim. with sand, he is trying to create a situation where everything comes to a head (not in the fun way, get your mind out of the gutter), which would establish what's actually going on, but with boeing? yeah, that man is a red flag bigger than the one hanging on the turkish parliament building and feels instantly slimier than even top did at the beginning of the series. it's fun to like him as the unhinged menace that he is from a viewer's perspective, but he is obviously fucking awful to actually encounter in life, especially as your boyfriend's ex. and i do think that it is not unfair to say that ray picked up on what we all did - that boeing doesn't actually care about sand and never did. he can't even remember the concert they went to together! so this isn't just about jealousy or figuring out the truth, but also about the simple fact that boeing sucks (once again, not in a fun way - seriously, get your mind out of the gutter).
#yes i slid in two sucking dick jokes into this post. what are you gonna do? arrest me?#also btw yeah dan is indeed perfect *dreamy sigh*#i dub thee#ofts anon#archer responds
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going into deer that just ran out in front of headlights mode, weighing out her options. mind processing quickly and by now she'd USUALLY have a sharp witted answer, this time... nothing. what did she have to lose by just admitting it? trying to convince him to hate her has failed. the only thing left, her pride. she'll lose her pride. but maybe if she admits it, he will be less reluctant to hang out with those other girls and thinks that's worth giving up her pride for. "mhm." begrudgingly, elena mumbled, "a little... yes." she quietly responded, eyes suddenly finding the floor fascinating. she won't be admitting how crazy it IS driving her, however. then gaze somehow managed to lift back up on him, probably her never dying need to warn him about the possums and their risks driving her. "just don't say i didn't tell you so, though." brunette grumbled, giving a slight roll of her eyes as she finds that annoying look on marcus' face.
heart stammers in small chest for a second once his next reply registers, the response smearing off any annoyance across her features. "well, i feel the same. i wasn't prepared for you either." it's said with wonderment and love filling her voice again, it was hard to stay angry at him. it was impossible. something else that was weird and foreign to her, with her boyfriend... the hatred always remained in tact. it was like as the day went on, the thicker it even got. but with marcus, it dissipates and her heart just grows fonder of him when it should be doing the opposite. it was more signs showing her which one was the right one and which one wasn't. then it makes her laugh he proves her wrong and does seem to know something about the game.
"it is powerful." she agrees, acknowledging what he's saying and his feelings but being careful with her words again. when he first told her tonight, she was convinced he was just drunk and it still has her so floored she's still wondering if this is all a dream. but won't remind him of that in fear it'll hurt his feelings again. "say i did, then. say i told you te amo ... and nothing really happens? we just go our separate ways and walk around as two people who love each other? but that's it?" questioning because she's curious, he's still leaving her even if she were to admit it to him? elena wonders if he actually is drunk because she can't see how admitting they both love each other, wouldn't actually cause even more conflict. at least the way she thinks about it, it does. then again, she's not on the receiving end of wondering if he loves her back.
staying silent on the outside but on the inside her heart is racing at hearing marcus, words falling from his lips stating he wants her. and her mind trails off into a dreamland of wondering what that would be like, being his rather than rory's. it gets her heart flip flopping because it understands it's what she wants too and it's so easy to get hypnotized in what it would be like to get lost in that world with marcus.
"well, i definitely do." one shoulder shrugs, innocently smiling. trying to keep him at arms length or not, she'll never deny she finds him cute and irresistible as he puts it. he's definitely both. "i don't... i don't know what i'm doing, you're making stuff up. i just REALLY think it'd be cute, like mine." she reminds again, placing a hand over her mouth to keep down her laughter from traveling any further past this room from the reaction she got from him. what was that? the way he froze.
"if you're this in love with my hello kitty undies, i'm not sure what you would do if they were just –– pink and lacy or something." she whispered, now she knows exactly what she's doing as she attempts to coax more redness to rosy his cheeks because it's adorable and she's trying not to let the devious grin turn into laughter. eyes watch him lower himself down in the floor in front of her, twisting a nostalgic knife in her chest. making her heart thud in nervous steps because the last time he did that, it was at his kitchen table right before he kissed her. that's the moment her heart was tearing out of her chest to be with him forever. and here he is, not making that any less easier for her. switching all the routes in her head all over again just from this one action, going right back in his direction rather than from it. "wow. welcome down here to the short people world, tall person." she joked to cope with the emotions he's got running rampant in her chest, sheepishly chuckling as her skin was still warm under his touch.
elena rests her elbows in her lap and leans forward, "no it's only cheap because like i said.. i didn't see any butt views. girls love butt views." she playfully speaks, smiling wide in amusement. "and why not? since i'm looking at him. mr trouble himself." he really wasn't trouble BESIDES in the terms of trying to stay away from him and there he is causing her to fail miserably as small hands took his face and palms gently held him in place like he might break. she admires him for a moment, eyes scanning over each of his features, memorizing them each like it could be her last. before her mind doesn't think anymore, just reacts as elena leans in and presses a delicate kiss to his upper lip.
had she always been this unrelenting? he was shocked at her incredible stubbornness, her refusal to let this go. "you're jealous," he finally accused, unable to suppress a conceited smirk. “you’re spiraling about this because it drives you crazy, doesn’t it?” it’s her turn to prick at her sensitivities now. “i think admitting it will help you feel better.” best case scenario, marcus is right and gets to bask in the overwhelming satisfaction. worst case, he was wrong, and she was just desperate to irritate him.
“not even discovering that colonel mustard’s weapon of choice was a candlestick could’ve prepared me for you,” he retorts with soft laughter. in reality, nothing could’ve prepared him for her. but all of her teasing had merit, marcus did feel like he needed experience in solving mysteries to even begin understanding her. any attempt to unspool her inner machinations and deepest thoughts was often frustrating, sometimes impossible, yet never felt pointless. he never got tired of her, or trying to comprehend what made her tick. he would try to figure her out for as long as she let him. “but wouldn’t it just be easier if i hated you? i thought you would appreciate it if i moved on.” demeanor when he asks is one of total confusion, with no implication of self-pity.
another reminder of her boyfriend, another reminder that she’s not his and never would be, and she’s twisting the knife. marcus can actually feel himself wince as she speaks. “nothing happens,” he says simply, lost in her deep brown hues. “i already told you, i came here tonight to tell you how i felt because i thought that you should know that i’m walking away from this changed. it’s a powerful thing, to change someone’s state of mind, and you did that for me. but i wouldn't come here expecting anything from you.” pauses, proud that he's skillfully avoided uttering those three words again. his tongue quickly runs over the expanse of his bottom lip before continuing, “do i want you? yeah, i do, elena. i really do. … but i know it’s not the same for you, so, there’s no news for you to break to anybody. — tonight was meant to be a goodbye. it is a goodbye.” a deep sigh is pushed from his lungs, and he suddenly feels emptied. love can live and die here now, because when marcus leaves her tonight, he’s moving on. their door is closed. he has no other options, because living the way he had been for the past five weeks had turned him inside out.
the pregnant pause before her translation lends credence to the thought that she could be lying to him, but marcus has no way to fact-check, so he decides to take it all at face value. “wow, if you think i’m cute when i’m frustrated, then i must be pretty irresistible right now.” he’s laughing her off, busying himself, until she so casually announces what she’s wearing that he cannot see himself. marcus instantly freezes, a rush of blood to his head. a wide smirk is deep-seated on his face once she’s quickly sent his imagination into a tailspin. “you know exactly what you’re doing.” shakes his head, yet unable stop his mind from racing. tries to remember the boundaries he’d implemented of his own accord, tries to remind himself of where they stood. he had spent so many hours during their time apart, miserably staring at his ceiling fan, lost in nebulous thought of her. now, with the real, tangible thing right at his fingertips, her, marcus was nothing but inaction. he could scream.
mouth falls open to feign offense, but there’s genuine surprise ruminating. “it would not be a cheap show, because it’s me. i’m irresistible, remember?” discovers that both of their faces are flushed once he’s closer, indulged by the feeling of her warm skin. she’s smiling up at him, and the stir that she sets in motion leaves marcus spinning out. thick yearning flamed inside his chest yet again at her words, his heart once more setting off at a daunting pace. he takes a kneeling posture down in front of her, feeling a déjà vu phenomenon once they’re face-to-face. “oh yeah?” he responds, voice lilting, a clear challenge. marcus was in love, and he was sick with it. it made him stupid and irrational and left him wanting more. he was greedy, always grasping. “i don't know if i believe you.”
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Re: your post about Sans not actually knowing Papyrus. I'm a fan of the 'Papyrus is Gaster, but because everyone has forgotten Gaster, Papyrus has also forgotten himself' theory. And I had Thoughts of along similar lines to 'no one really knows Papyrus because he always lies', albeit from a slightly. Different source?
That is, Papyrus DOES lie a lot. But the people who seem to care about him most and actively seek his company, and the characters who are the most affected by him are all characters with high amounts of Determination.
Like, sure, yeah. if you kill Papyrus, Sans vanishes and then asks you about how you should be wielding power, and he may threaten you at the end of a phone call. But overall, his role in the game doesn't change much at all, and his attitude in the endings seems more representative of the Underground's attitude.
But as we know, Flowey is the previous holder of reset. We know he's probably the person who actually knows the most about Papyrus(only one to REALLY know his favorite food), and he's also confessed Papyrus is the person he finds the most interesting.
But! There's also Undyne! Now, she may not know as much about Papyrus as Flowey does, and I think she projects her own view of him onto him. But she's probably the character who talks about Papyrus as a friend the most. From Sans' dialogue about Papyrus, he views him as someone naive in need of protection. And to basically everyone else, Papyrus is not Papyrus, but who he is in connection to those around him. A skeleton who informs Undyne of problems, Sans loud and tall brother, etc.
But Undyne... Papyrus still lies to her, and she still thinks Papyrus is too nice, but she acknowledges his strength. She doesn't want to upset him, she wants to see him succeed and tries to help him do so in her own way, by giving him something to be passionate about. And when you kill him, it enrages her. I'm sure it enrages Sans, too, but she doesn't just judge you for it, confronts you much earlier and demands to know what you did to Papyrus.
So I wonder if there's. Something like a not-my-problem field around Papyrus, or spacetime distortion, that causes only people with Determination to really see him? Not that his lies make it any easier. it could also just be the lying, that's a lot simpler and more likely, but I do agree that Sans definitely does not know Papyrus anywhere near as much as he thinks he does, and is just running on a number of assumptions. Which is simultaneously weird and sad, that Papyrus has so few friends and not even his brother can really be counted among them.
...At any rate! Hope you enjoyed my rambling and found it interesting!
I DO FIND THAT INTERESTING.
Actually that brings up a good point, how forgettable or even ignore-able Papyrus is. Maybe he's yelling because no one pays attention to him pfff, I mean he tells so many jokes just for them to go over peoples heads, he shows excessive consideration towards others, just for the fandom to assume he's an asshole because he 'reacts badly' to puns.
//For those that don't know, they are doing a bit/playing with you. Sans' puns wouldn't be anywhere near as funny if Papyrus didn't react to them the way he does. Which makes it weirder to why Sans doesn't react to his at all. Why would he ignore them when it obviously makes him happy that Papyrus reacts? It's not just sans, tho, Undyne doesn't seem to notice or react to his puns either, but he responds to hers.//
The entire underground- or at least I know the entirety of Snowdin is affected when he's dusted. They all feel unsafe and unsettled suddenly, Papyrus has a huge effect on them. I do really love Undyne's response to him being dusted, the fact she knows he answers after two rings of his phone, means they talk a lot, and I love that.
Sans's reaction gives me the impression of "ok we're doing this run, byyyyeee" He only calls you a dirty brother killer, nothing else. He seems to care more about murdering you on a pacifist run than any other... I'm not hating on Sans for this, I'm just pointing it out- his vague awareness has put him in a mood of "Nothing REALLY matters" so it's because of that he doesn't really seem to care about Papyrus dying. He'll just call you a dirty brother killer and move into Toriel's house. Probably because he doesn't wanna deal with anyone asking about Papyrus, she doesn't know he exists, after all.
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Episode 8 is one hella packed episode and it is an absolute joy to unpack it, beginning with this:
Clever, clever idea to have Ji-Woo repeat the line that Mi-Joo just said to indicate Ji-Woo is taking charge of things as far as Assemblyman Ki is concerned. It's also a good reminder of how tone and intent can change the meaning of a sentence even if the words are exactly the same (which is why we need good translators).
Seeing Mi-Joo stride across the screen with Seon-Gyeom behind her, it struck me that we've seen a variation of this many times before, beginning with the credit titles. While Seon-Gyeom is the sprinter, the one we see constantly trying to up the pace and charge ahead is Mi-Joo. She's always intent on moving ahead faster — perhaps to outrun the past that she finally makes peace with during the marathon? — while Seon-Gyeom moves at a slower pace, disentangling himself from the constraints of his troubled past and troubling father. The only one time we see him race ahead (in episode 2), we also see him come back and slow down.
What I particularly love about Park Shi-Hyun's writing is that in addition to all the layers and complexity she's written into the scenes and characters, she's also written a very, very funny show.
Both Shin Se-Kyung and Kang Tae-Oh do such a fantastic job with both the physical humour (without being over-the-top) and the timing that's needed to play up the wit in the dialogues. Not that Siwan and Soo-Young do a bad job — the scene in which Dan-Ah proposes to Seon-Gyeom is hilarious. My favourite is still May, who is very funny throughout this episode (the shot in which we learn she sleeps with her eyes open! GOLD).
The transitions in this episode are so well written. The insights from one scene ricochet off the next. For example, Dan-Ah in the scene at the bar — where she tells the bartender she can't risk keeping the book in her own study because she can't risk people guessing she has anxieties — gives us a look at the problems of the privileged. This is followed by a scene in which Yeong-Hwa and Mi-Joo discuss student debts, which is a relatable middle-class problem. This in turn is followed by Tae-Woong saying that he takes selfies because he's addicted to the validation he gets from the likes each of those photos gets him — a Gen Z problem. And so it is that we get a spectrum of problems that people face and hide behind performative façades.
The likes that Tae-Woong talks about pop up with manic frenzy at the end of the heartbreaking scene with Dan-Ah in the parking lot, presenting the viewer with a terrible contrast — driving away from him is the love and acceptance that he yearns for from a sister who (he hopes) knows him. All he has to hold on to is the superficial attention of the love professed by a fandom that doesn't really know him at all. Soo-Young's performance is fantastic in this scene, especially when she asks in a voice tinged with desperation why Tae-Woong keeps coming back to her despite her treating him so badly. For the first time, you realise how much it takes out of her to lash out at this desperately-sad boy. "It takes effort to hate someone," Tae-Woong tells her. My heart!
Another fantastic set of transitions comes later on in the episode, when Mi-Joo and May are unwinding at the end of a long day at the film shoot.
This is such a great example of writing inter-generational female friendships. When May remembers not being paid for working overtime, it's an acknowledgement that things are better for working women (especially in film) than it was before, but as Mi-Joo's experiences show, there's still a lot to be done because women are still driven by a certain insecurity and anxiety to push themselves way too hard (as we see a sick Mi-Joo do later in the episode).
Of course a man tries to break this gathering up — because he wants to go to bed. Superb excuse, particularly because these women are talking how much they have to work — and it is deeply satisfying to watch all three of them shut him down and establish their right to unwind.
This scene of female friendship is followed by one that shows the friendship between the three runners. Then we get to see a fight scene full of male actors. The machismo of that performance is a sharp contrast to the awkward tenderness of Woo-Sik and Yeong-Il's conversation.
While on the subject of toxic masculinity, this is the episode in which we find out Dan-Ah's father forged Myeong-Min's birth certificate to make him legally older than Dan-Ah even though he's actually 10 months younger than her. All to ensure he has a male heir. It's a nice detail that Myeong-Min's mother is the one laying out the memorial service for Dan-Ah's mother because it hints at a sense of solidarity.
Also dismantling traditional notions of masculinity is Seon-Gyeom, whom we see at his most domestic as he cooks and packs meals for May and Mi-Joo, and does chores around the house once they're gone. It's very much an inversion of the standard male-female gender roles with the woman going out to work and the man as the homemaker. To underscore this point, we see Seon-Gyeom consider the leopard-print shirt (that May and Mi-Joo hang to give strangers the impression they've got an alpha in the house) for a second before putting it away.
Speaking of alphas, Mi-Joo's really got a thing for wild cats. In addition to that shirt, her blanket is also a leopard-print and when we see her calling Seon-Gyeom, she's standing in front of a painting of a tiger. All these seem to be digs at her posturing that she's strong and invulnerable and I burst out laughing when Seon-Gyeom folds the leopard-print blanket while muttering, "I'd have guessed this is hers even if she hadn't told me."
As disinterested as Seon-Gyeom may be in films, they play a big role in sustaining him emotionally. In this episode, it's the film set that helps Mi-Joo and him come together after their stupid disagreement. Equally importantly, the film set is where he gets the time and space to reconnect with his mother.
Run On has so much fun being meta with the film bits. The film shoot within a drama is indeed an old fake.
There are two film sets we see in this episode — one with Ji-Woo and the other with Mi-Joo. While Ji-Woo's set feels relaxed, the one Mi-Joo's working in is chaotic and taxing. The two women are also at different ends of the professional spectrum. Ji-Woo is a star while Mi-Joo is not just working behind the scenes, but she's come to fill in for the person who was the juniormost member of the crew.
When pointing out the main players of their film crew to Mi-Joo and May, Hui-Jin describes the cinematographer as "a bit racist, but still a gentleman". (Mi-Joo's response is superb: "Weird.") It's an interesting choice to make the cinematographer racist because that's the crew member who decides how subjects and scenes will be framed. "Racist but a gentleman" feels like a precise summary of the orientalist perspective which (aside from being overwhelmingly masculine) shows the East through stereotypes that are often superficially beautiful, but also reductive and damaging. Not surprisingly, this cinematographer is the reason Mi-Joo flounders while translating on set.
The film set is also the first time that Seon-Gyeom sees Mi-Joo's vulnerable side when she falls ill. It's such a clever choice to have Mi-Joo stop performing in a setting that's all about performances. Not only does Mi-Joo give up the alpha act when she's sick, she admits to Seon-Gyeom that when she's feeling helpless, her instinct is to resort to a performative lie — calling out for mom because that's what she saw other kids do as a child in a sick ward (imagine how isolated and neglected she must have felt to do this. Also, she's felt this way so many times that this performance has become second nature to her).
The anecdote suggests Mi-Joo's mulish championing of her self has its roots in past incidents when she tried to fit and either failed or was rejected. And yet, for all her strength and confidence, she's chasing phantoms and has been doing so since she was a little girl. All because she was alone and didn't have anyone she could reach out to for help. Which is why what Seon-Gyeom tells her at the end of the episode is so relevant. He helps her to reorient.
To which Mi-Joo, bless her leopard-print-loving heart, responds with
But my favourite part of this episode is the conversation that Ji-Woo has with Seon-Gyeom when he visits her set. First of all, Ji-Woo is playing a "vegan murderer", which is brilliant as ideas go and it's adorable how delighted she is about her violent roles.
I love how Run On doesn't punish Ji-Woo for sacrificing her family life for her work. Instead, it holds out the possibility that it is ok if you have that imbalance. In this scene, we see Ji-Woo's family reforming at the film set with Eun-Bi sending the coffee truck and Seon-Gyeom showing up just because Ji-Woo asked him to be there.
The mother-son conversation gives us a glimpse of Seon-Gyeom's bleak childhood and we learn that everything Seon-Gyeom did for his father was actually him doing what his mother had asked him to do. It comes as a surprise to Seon-Gyeom that his mother has noticed what he's suffered and that she understands how he'd hoped silently suffering would keep the family together. It's almost as though he's feeling seen for the first time.
Much like Dan-Ah, Ji-Woo may seem self-centred because of her ambitiousness, but she does notice what's happening beyond the obvious, especially when it comes to people she cares about. Both women are up against the worst of patriarchy. Also, I love that when she's talking about motherhood, Ji-Woo is blood-spattered — after all, being a working woman and a mother in a patriarchal is nothing short of fighting a war.
In previous episodes, it seemed as though Ji-Woo was the 'bad' (or at least not ideal) mother while Director Dong was the ideal, modern mother. Yet in comparison to how Director Dong later reacts to her son coming out, you can't help but feel Ji-Woo, with her unconditional support for her kids, might just be the better parent. What is great about Run On though is that that the script doesn't pit the two older women against each other as competing examples of motherhood or femininity. The point is that everyone's struggling, making mistakes and trying to learn from them. Ji-Woo is doing that and so will Director Dong eventually.
Love that the scene ends with Seon-Gyeom effectively declaring himself his mother's son. Take that, patriarchy.
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[SUMMARY: Negan keeps a close eye on his ex Deena after learning that the man she is currently with has a history of abuse.]
Negan and Deena PART TWO
Smut/drama/TW:physical abuse
"What do you wanna know about Michael?" Simon asked a bit confused as they stepped into his apartment.
"Everything. Anything you know."
"Well shit-" Simon scratched his head trying to make himself remember anything about this man on the spot.
"I dont know, I met him like a decade ago. I'd always see him at the Jackson bar on Friday nights. I dont think he has any kids. He used to date this one girl for a while but I dont know what happened with her. We used to hear rumors but-"
"What rumors?"
"I-I dont think they were true but-"
"What fucking rumors?"
"Some people used to say he'd smack his girlfriend around but I dont know man, I never saw any proof."
Negan knit his brow giving Simon a death stare.
"And you didnt think to tell me this after I told you the mother of my child was with this man?"
"Negan I-" before Simon could finish Negan grabbed him by the collar and gave him a hard shake.
"You didnt think to tell me my woman could be with someone dangerous!"
"Your woman? Negan I swear I didnt remember." Negan didnt respond staring at him for a moment before finally letting him go and taking a deep breath.
"What happened, did he do something to Deena?"
Negan sat down and ran his hands over his face in frustration.
"She wont tell me but I know something is not right."
"Shes not going to tell you, remember you're an asshole in her eyes so I doubt she'd tell you even if something was wrong." Simon lit up a cigarette leaning back on his chair.
"Listen, I may be an asshole but I never fucking touched Deena. I never lay a hand on her." Negans knee was shaking as he sat back and thought of what the truth could be, Simon had never seen him this concerned.
"Hey man, maybe its not even like that. You cant bombard her with it, you know how she is. She'll shut down. Just give it time, if something else looks weird, act on it but till then just wait cause we really dont know."
Negan knew Simon was right in a way. Deena wouldnt admit it even if it was true and he didnt have solid evidence.
Instead Negan was going to make it a habit now to show up more often to see Jack. Of course during his visits with Jack he'd make sure you were ok without asking you anything. He would just keep a closer eye on you.
As he planned, Negan showed up more throughout the week to see Jack. Everytime he had been there Michael wasnt there, yet he still noticed you keep to yourself more than usual. Of course you had to keep to yourself more, you didn't want to upset Michael again. Part of you knew your feelings were still strong for Negan but you didnt want to acknowledge it because of how much he had hurt you. Michael was someone new who you convinced to yourself wasnt that bad. You did call him another mans name, part of you was almost making yourself believe it was your fault what occured. Michael hadn't touched you since, as long as you didnt upset him you were fine is what you would tell yourself.
Negan was in the living room with Jack while you began cooking dinner for when Michael would arrive. You could hear Negan being playful with Jack, it was a sweet sound that made your heart flutter.
Negan sighed putting the baby down in his playpen before looking towards the kitchen. He walked in as you stirred the food, leaning his shoulder on the doorway watching you quietly cook.
"You look beautiful."
Your heart immediately began to race, trying not to put much thought to it or even look his way, you smiled.
"Thank you."
Negan slowly walked in to the kitchen looking around. He noticed some things had been changed from where you originally had them. He noticed something sitting beside the food pantry he hadn't noticed before.
"What's this?" Negan asked opening the box to find a stack of tools.
"Wait, Negan-" you ran to him taking the tool from his hand and putting it back in the box carefully.
"This is Michael's and he doesnt like it to be touched." Negans face quickly changed noticing how nervously you reacted.
"What does he live here now?"
"No. He just has some things here. That's all, just don't touch it please. Hes really picky with his things."
You walked back to the pot of food that was almost done cooking as Negan crossed his arms not taking his eyes off you. He had never seen you act this way before.
"You must really like this guy huh?" He asked just to see your reaction, he knew there was something more making you act this way.
"Mhm." You responded without making eye contact.
"Mhm." Negan pressed his lips together before you were both interrupted by the sound of the door unlocking.
"That must be Michael now."
"He has the fucking keys? Since when?"
"Negan please. I just gave it to him for today since I thought I was going to be alone with Jack." You quickly walked out to greet Michael at the door. The more Negan realized things, the more angrier he became. This man was trying to claim all of this as his. He was trying to gain a power over you and you couldnt see it.
Negan walked out of the kitchen to catch Michael with his lips on yours. Negan right away got a bad taste in his mouth at the sight before Michael looked up at him.
"Negan. I didnt know you were here."
"Yeah. Came by to check on my son and Deena. Have to make sure shes ok here by herself with him."
"Oh I'm sure I have a good watch on that." Michael quickly responded.
"Yeah well an extra eye doesnt hurt." Negan grinned trying to keep himself composed. The silence that followed made you anxious and uncomfortable.
"So are you ready for dinner?"
"Yes!" Both men eagerly responded at the same time, making you more anxious. It was clear these men did not like each other and had no problem in showing it.
Negan watched as Michael sat and let you serve him. He could tell you were nervous as you served his plate, of course you were. You had not expected Negan to stay for dinner.
"Thank you, baby." Michael said loudly as you turned to walk towards Negan with the food when he suddenly spanked your ass hard making you gasp. Negan grabbed his knee under the table hard, he knew Michael was doing this to purposely piss him off and boy was it working. As you were about to serve Negan he stood up and grabbed the pot of food from you.
"I got it, Dee. Sit down, shit you been on your feet all day."
"Dee? I've never heard anyone call her Dee." Michael cleared his throat looking up at Negan with a raised brow. Michael clearly didnt like the sound of the little nickname Negan had for you.
"Only I do. Old habit." Negan knew what he was doing and if Michael wanted to get under his skin, he knew how to get under his too. Taking a deep breath you sat down next to Jack, making sure he was comfortable in his high chair and began to eat. There was silence for a moment until Michael noticed the lid on his box of tools was not left the way he had left it the day before.
"What happened with my tool box?" Michael's question instantly made you nervous.
"Oh I-"
"That was me." Negan interrupted not liking the tone in his voice when he spoke to you.
"You let Negan touch my tool box?"
"She didnt let me touch anything. I thought it was something I had left here so I went to take a look." Negan responded confidently.
"I dont know why you would think anything here belongs to you, you dont live here."
"As far as I'm concerned, neither do you." Negan shot back.
"Ok stop." You spoke hesitantly as the men stared at each other angrily.
"Can we just enjoy dinner?"
The rest of the dinner was silent, you didn't make eye contact with either of the men. Negan stood up and was soon getting ready to leave. He leaned in beside you to give Jack a kiss. You could smell his scent close to you, Michael quietly stared at you as you stared down at your plate of food.
"Let me know if you need anything, Deena." You heard his voice close to your ear.
Negan walked out not liking the idea of him leaving you alone with Michael. In reality, what could he do without you acknowledging anything or him having proof? He would just look like a jealous man, which he could admit jealous he was. Negan left and you could feel Michael's eyes on you.
"I trust you to not let your ex touch my belongings or disrespect me."
"I told him not to touch it, Michael. I really did."
"Dont." He slammed his fist on the table making you jump. Jack began to cry making you quickly pull him out of his high chair and comfort him.
"Dont lie to me, Deena."
"Michael stop it. Im not lying to you and you're scaring Jack. You can leave." Surpsingly feeling a rush of courage when it came to Jack, you stood up with him in your arms and began to walk out the room until he unexpectedly grabbed your arm. You froze as he squeezed you and stood up staring down at you.
"Watch how you talk to me, baby."
"I said..you can leave." You felt yourself shaking as you stood your ground.
"Alright. You want me to leave? I'll leave." Michael responded calmly, a little too calm for comfort. He turned around and began to walk away making you let our a deep breath of relief when suddenly he turned around and smacked you across the face. You yelped as you fell hard to the floor holding Jack as tight as you could. Blocking his head from hitting anything you slammed your head on the bottom kitchen cabinet.
"Now I'll leave. You see what you do to yourself." Michael walked out slamming the door loudly as Jack cried loudly. Tears streaming down your eyes you cried with him.
"I'm so sorry." You whispered to Jack. Pushing yourself up off the floor you went to lock the door when Michael suddenly appeared again making you step back.
"Another thing, you tell Negan any of this I'll make sure you never see your son again. Remember my brother is a lawyer. He'll have you all fucked."
With those last words he walked out for a second time. Looking over at the table by the door you were relieved to see he had left the keys. Immediately you locked it, even clicking the bolt into place. Upset you walked up the stairs to run Jack a warm bath and calm him down. All you wanted was to call Negan to come over in that moment.
You took Jack a bath and put him to bed when you realized you had a text from Negan.
"Is jackass still around?" He texted making you chuckle softly.
"No. Alone now, baby just went to sleep." You responded in a text when suddenly you heard your phone begin to ring but when you checked, it wasnt a phone call.
Negan wanted to video call you. Your heart skipped a beat, he had never done this. What the hell was making him do it now.
You picked up the video call and found him staring very serious at the screen, he also look a bit tired.
"Figuring out your phone huh?" You teased.
"I wanted to see you." You watched as Negans eyes roamed over the screen taking a good look at you. Negan was doing everything he could to have a closer eye on you without you realizing it.
"Well you're seeing me." You responded with a smile but Negan could tell the smile didnt reach your eyes.
"I'm surprised the asshole didnt stay the night." Quickly, he saw you look away from the camera turning to the side. Looking to keep yourself occupied with something.
"Its fine. I wanted to be alone anyways."
"Guess he didn't like me being there for dinner." Negan chuckled to himself.
"He doesnt like alot of things." You muttered low.
"What do you see in that asshole, Deena?"
His sudden question caught you off guard but you didnt know how to respond.
"I know I wasnt the greatest to you but I see you with this guy and you're not you."
You stayed looking away from the camera as Negan quietly stared at you.
"Can we talk about something else?"
Negan heard a crack in your voice as you brushed your hand through your hair.
"What happened after I left, Deena?"
"Nothing happend after you-" cutting yourself off you looked up having heard a thump. Negan frowned wondering what caught your attention.
"What is it?"
You didnt respond as you slowly stood up and walked out of the room quickly checking on Jack. Thankfully he was fine and the main door was still locked. You sighed a breath of relief before getting back into your room and realizing you were becoming paranoid.
"I thought I heard something, it was just me." Negan could tell something was worrying you but you didnt want to admit what it was.
"You want me to come over, just to make sure everything is fine around the house?"
His offer made you quickly look back at him with some sort of relief in your eyes.
"I mean yes, maybe check the attic. Could be a pipe." You lied and he knew it. In all honesty you were just afraid with what had just happened with Michael. You felt paranoid about him showing up unexpectedly. Negan played along just wanting you to be comfortable and made his way to you. It was around ten at night, Negan never came over this late but you didnt mind it.Relieved to see Negan when you opened the door you let him in and quickly locked the door from top to bottom. You turned to find him staring at you strangely.
"Since when have you been using the bolt?"
Negan had placed the bolt for you a few years back but with all the locks on the door you had never used it. You never found it necessary.
"A habit I have now." You chuckled low as you walked past him. It did make you nervous that Negan was in your home, what if Michael found out in some kind of way? The thought of Michael turned your stomach.
"What did you want me to check out, doll?"
"Oh yeah, the attic. Maybe I heard the noise coming from there." Negan never seeming to be afraid of the unknown, pulled the ladder down and walked right up. It was hard not to admit to yourself that besides the differences you both have had, you could always count on him whenever you needed him.
"Just like I thought! Theres nothing up here." He yelled from the attic.
"You sure?"
"Shit, come see for yourself."
Negan chuckled as he came back down the ladder, you had always been afraid to go up to the attic alone.
"I know I heard something." You whispered as he made his way to you and leaned his face in close.
"You sure, sweetcheeks?" He teased making you chuckle. Negan loved teasing you, he always liked seeing you laugh.
"Oh stop." You playfully shoved him which only made him bounce back closer to you. The two of you stopped for a moment and stared into each others eyes. The thought of that kiss he gave you the last time made you shiver inside. But before he could reach in and kiss you, you quickly turned away. The strong pull you felt to him couldnt be denied but Michael...the thought of that man terrified you.
"Do you want a snack, I want a snack. I'll make us something quick." Negan watched as you flew down the stairs and scoffed shaking his head. He knew you wanted him just as bad.
As you reached into the cabinet Negan walked into the kitchen and leaned on the door way. You could feel his eyes on you, devouring you from head to toe.
"I know you dont give a shit about this guy." Negan spoke confidently as he slowly made his way to you. You didn't say a word knowing you couldnt react to him, thinking of the threat Michael made, you couldn't risk it.
"Fuck, Deena why do you let him control you like this?" Negan asked making you turn to him. He knew that would make you react which is what he wanted.
"He doesn't control me so quit assuming things."
"So then kiss me." He grinned as get got closer to you making you back up into corner.
"So what you're telling me to do is cheat on him."
"Oh is that what I said?" Negan chuckled with sarcasm.
"Figures you know, since you know so much about cheating yourself." You responded back with double the sarcasm making him laugh. You rolled your eyes pushing him aside but he blocked you with his arm. His expression suddenly turning more serious, he stared down at you not letting you pass him. His look was making you weak, your lips parted looking at his. You knew this wasn't right but the closer he got the more irresistible he became.
"I'm not going to kiss you." You whispered sounding anything but confident.
"Oh yeah? You sure about that?" He whispered in return wrapping his arm around your waist and pulling you against him making you gasp.
"Now what was that you said, sweetheart?"
You were now speechless, how can you resist this man? You never stopped wanting him and he never had stopped wanting you. He leaned in and you instantly melted at the feel of his warm lips on yours. He felt your body fall into his as he passionately kissed you. He took your arms and wrapped them around his neck as he grabbed your ass with both hands.
"Negan..." you whispered into his lips.
"Hm? Tell me what you want, doll." He spoke slowly and erotically. Each word pulling at your heart strings.
"I want you." You whispered feeling him squeeze you harder when he suddenly lifted you up and sat you on the kitchen counter. You could hear him unbuckling his belt as he kissed you, his hands brushing up your thighs and pulling down your shorts and underwear. Your heart was racing. You swore this would never happen again but you didnt want him to stop. He pulled back for a moment and looked at you as he pulled you towards the edge of the counter. Negan wanted you to look directly at him as he entered you. Your arms and legs were wrapped around him as he pushed in forward, the both of you moaned simultaneously at the first feel of each other. It had been too long since he felt you and he didnt know how long he could control himself before exploding.
"Holy fuck." Negan muttered as he got into rythm. Aggresivly pulling off his shirt he threw it across the room. You moaned loudly as Negan broke out in a sweat, it took alot of him not to burst with each moan you let out. You screamed as you leaned your head back against the wall, fully exposing your neck. Negan wrapped one hand around your throat and gave you a hard squeeze as he moved faster. You squealed as he used the same hand to now grab your hair pulling it back hard.
"Negan!" You grabbed onto him tightly, the sound of your voice helpless calling for him made it hard for him to control himself any longer.
"Fuck, Deena- I cant fucking hold it-" before he could finish he groaned loudly letting himself explode within you. You moaned as he buried himself deeply, his body against yours. The two of you panting uncontrollably in each others arms.
"Negan." You whispered in a shakey voice before he pulled back and slowly pulled himself out.
"Fuck, I couldnt stop it." He spoke breathlessly falling back onto the chair behind him.
"You know how long I've been waiting for that." He chuckled making you laugh.
Jack had still been sleeping while you and Negan lay in bed under the covers. Your face on his chest as he rubbed your hair back gently. It was nice forgetting everything for just a moment until Negan rubbed over a certain part of your head making you lift your head up and wince.
"Ow."
"What's that?" Negan felt the bump on the back of your head and frowned. You knew the bump must've been from when you fell and hit your head on the cabinet. You weren't going to tell Negan this so you simply shrugged.
"I dont even know how that happened. These random bruises come out of nowhere. Dont you hate when that happens." You laughed nervously and lay your head back down. Negan stayed looking down at you not liking your response.
"You know you can tell me anything right, Dee?" You hesitantly lifted your head up and looked back at him.
"What would I need to tell you? What do you mean?" Negan didnt say a word for a moment but he knew he had to. He didnt know how you would react but he couldnt continue acting like he wasnt noticing certain things.
"What I mean is that ever since you began dating that fuck, Michael, you either have some new bruise or you're suddenly nervous with shit you never were nervous about before. I know you, Deena and you sure as fuck arent acting like yourself."
"What the hell is that suppose to mean?!" You stood up quickly putting on your robe making Negan roll his eyes, he knew you would get defensive.
"Dee-" Negan tried to speak sitting up in the bed but you wouldnt let him.
"I dont know who the hell is putting this shit in your mind but leave it alone. Nobody is doing anything to me."
"Listen, I'm not trying to pick a god damn fight for fucksake." Negan got up and began to get dressed.
"Yeah? Well you are! Why dont you mind your business."
"You are my fucking business!" Negan yelled so loudly you were surprised Jack hadn't woken up.
"You know what, get out! This is why I never wanted to sleep with you again-" Negan scoffed in return.
"I beg to differ, sweetheart. With the way you felt you been wanting that just as much as I have." You stared at him in silence holding back your tears, you were not going to let him make you admit the truth.
"Get out and do me a favor dont come back unless it's to pick up Jack." You stormed out of the room making your way down the stairs to the kitchen. Negan cursed at himself angrily, the last thing he wanted to do was fight with you.
"Goddamn women." He muttered low, but he knew he had to approach this matter differently.
In the kitchen you quietly made yourself tea hearing him come down the stairs. He slowly made his way inside and leaned back on the counter beside you but you wouldnt look his way.
"Did he threaten you?" Negan asked with his arms crossed looking at the ground. Feeling a knot in your throat you couldnt respond, your silence spoke for itself making Negan look over at you.
"That son of a-"
"Negan please."
"Tell me the truth, Deena. He fucking hits you doesnt he?" His voice was stern, his eyes darkened as he looked down at you.
"It was my fault, Negan-" you cried out as Negan turned and punched the concrete wall behind him. The anger in him rising rapidly, he didnt even feel the effect on his knuckles.
"I'll kill him! I swear to God I'll fucking kill him."
"Negan, please you cant tell him anything. Please..."
"Oh for fuck sake, Deena! What the fuck does he have over you?! What is he threatening you with?!"
Negan stared down at you silently, his breathing was heavy, he studied the look in your eyes when it suddenly clicked.
"Jack." He whispered and all he saw was red. Negan quickly charged for the front door as you ran after him catching up before he could leave, you blocked the entrance.
"Negan, please you're not listening!" You cried.
"Oh I'm fucking listening, hes using our son to keep you shut. I'd like to see him try something-"
"Negan his brother is a lawyer. He threatened if I told you anything he'd make sure they'd take Jack away from me. Please, I beg you. I beg you, dont do or say anything. He doesnt do anything as long as I do what he says-"
"Do you fucking hear yourself, Dee?! As long as you do what he says? Who the fuck is he?! I know I was never an easy man to deal with but I never, ever put my god damn hands on you! Ever!" Negan turned red as he yelled, a vein pulsating hard in his neck appeared. You quietly cried before suddenly hearing Jack begin to cry upstairs. Negan sighed looking down, his fists balled up at his sides.
"Just promise me you wont say anything. Promise me."
"Ok." Negan stood aside letting you get past him to run up the stairs and check on Jack. He could hear you singing to him and ran his hands through his hair. He had never been so frustrated by a situation. He knew you were terrified for yourself and Jack and he hated that he felt like he couldnt do anything.
The next few weeks flew by peacefully, your cousin had come into town so she had been staying with you every day. With her around Michael never did anything to you. Negan knew you were safe for the time being but hated knowing Michael was still with you. You had never felt more confused, you loved Negan..you knew you did. The two of you hadn't even spoken about what happened between the two of you at all. Yet, you couldnt stop thinking about it. Jack's birthday was coming up the next day, you couldnt believe he was turning three. As excited as you were the thought of having Michael and Negan together in the same room for the first time since that night made your stomach turn. It made your stomach turn so much you actually began to feel nauseous. Brushing off the nausea, the sound of the doorbell went off and you knew it was Negan.
"Hi." You smiled as you stepped back and let him come in with a bunch of balloons.
"I picked up all these damn balloons, the cake and tomorrow I just gotta get the food." You laughed as Negan struggled with decorations and lay them out on the table.
"Thank you, I appreciate it."
Once he had everything set, he turned to you and couldn't help letting his eyes roam from your head to your toes.
"Looking good, Dee."
You blushed feeling your cousins eyes fall on you in confusion. Negan winked at you before turning to Jack and got right on the floor with him and began playing with him.
"Looking good, Dee." Your cousin muttered beside you, making fun of what she has just witnessed.
"Cut it out, Louise."
"What was that all about, he looked like he totally undressed you with his eyes." She continued making you sigh when you the wave of nausea struck you again.
This time it didnt go away and you found yourself running across the living room to the bathroom. Negan looked up with a frown then looked over to Louise as she stared in even more confusion.
"Stay with Jack." Negan pushed himself up and made his way to the bathroom door, knocking gently.
"Deena? You ok?" He could hear you continuing to throw up before you finally flushed. A few minutes later you stepped out of the bathroom looking pale and weak.
"I think it was something I ate." You whispered rubbing your head.
"Come on, let's get you to sit back."
Negan guided you by your arm to the living room when you found Louise opening the door for Michael. You froze in your steps as Negans expression quickly changed.
"Negan, what a surprise."
Negans lip twitched as Michael's eyes drifted to him holding your arm.
"Oh I wasnt feeling good-"
"So I was making sure she could make it back to the couch safely." Negan interrupted in a calm yet cold tone.
"Well I'm sure I can take over now that-"
"I got her." Negan shot back sternly.
"Its ok, Negan. I feel fine, Louise is here with me too."
"Yeah I got her, Negan." Louise agreed.
Michael and Negan didnt say a word to each other as Louise took your arm and led you to the couch. Negan walked out angrily not liking to feel out of control with this situation. You knew tomorrow would be a whole other roller coaster of emotions. It would be Jack's birthday celebration, it was already the 8th. Your heart sunk realizing what you had just thought to yourself. How could you be so stupid?
It was already the 8th and you realized you were four days late on your period.
The rest of the day you felt fine physically but you worried like never before. You knew you had a extra pregnancy test hidden in your drawer somewhere that you would take as soon as Michael would leave. When he did finally leave you asked Louise to stay with Jack while you hid in the bathroom to take the rest.
"Please don't be positive, please dont be positive." You continued to whisper repeatedly when it was time for you to look at the test and your mouth dropped open.
"Oh my God.."
It was positive.
Obviously, you knew it was Negans not having had sex with Michael in the last few weeks. Louise called out for you and you quickly hid the test and the box under your shirt and ran down stairs. Throwing out any of the evidence and without saying a word put Jack to sleep for the night.
The next day you got dressed up in a nice blue sundress for Jack's birthday. It was a very small gathering and you were excited to make this memory for Jack. Looking at yourself in the mirror you finished you make up and took a deep breath before heading out of your room. The decorations had been placed nicely in the living room. Michael was in the kitchen while Louise finished setting up the balloons. You had no idea that while Michael was in the kitchen he had discovered the box the pregnancy test came out of my accident as he was taking out the garbage.
"Deena! Can you come to the kitchen for second?" Michael called out for you as you played with Jack in the living room. You left him on the floor with Louise as you entered the kitchen with a smile excited for the day before realizing what you were walking into. Michael stood by the counter with the box of your pregnancy test in hand. The expression on your face instantly changing, you felt yourself having trouble to breathe.
"Wh-where did you get that..?"
"Oh right from your garbage can, baby." His face looked demented, he looked like a ticking bomb.
"Michael....let me explain.." you whispered as he made his way closer to you.
"Let you explain? Go ahead, explain." Michael threw the box on the table making a glass cup fall and shatter on the floor. Louise heard the noise and looked up before being distracted by the door.
It was Negan.
Louise opened the door for Negan as he came in excitedly picking his son up and wishing him a happy birthday.
"You're a big boy now, three years old." Negan grinned when he suddenly heard Michael yelling. He looked towards the kitchen door then back at Louise with a raised brow.
"I dont know." She whispered with a shrug.
"Michael please!" Negan heard you yell making him quickly give the baby to Louise and charge to the kitchen. When Negan pushed open the door he found Michael grabbing you by your hair before pushing you to the floor. You screamed before looking back and noticing Negan at the door. His eyes filled with rage, you stood up and ran to him blocking him before he could do anything.
"Negan wait- it's not what it looks like."
"Oh yeah, Deena why dont you show Negan here what it looks like huh?"
"Please, Negan just go-"
"Get out of the kitchen, Deena. I've been waiting for this shit." Negan didnt take his eyes off Michael across the room.
"Negan please, listen to me. Look at me."
"Yeah please, look at her before I have to make her shut the hell up."
"Negan!" You squealed when he suddenly pushed you behind him and charged towards Michael.
"Come on asshole, I'll give you a fair fight." Negan threw the chair that was in front of him across the room before he finally reached Michael and the two men began to fight. Both men trying to put each other in head locks as they ran into everything around them, knocking everything to the floor.
"Deena get the hell out of here!"
You stood in shock against the door way watching as Negan knocked Michael off his feet.
"Yeah...wouldnt want an unfortunate accident to happen to a pregnant woman." Michael grunted as Negan held him down before realizing what he said. Negan looked up at you in disbelief before quickly looking back down at Michael.
"Wouldnt want anything happening to that baby." He continued to taunt before Negan collided his fist with Michael's face.
"Say something stupid again, I fucking dare you. Trust me asshole, I got alot more where that came from." He looked directly into Michael's eyes but before he could utter another word, Negan punched him again. Louise had put the baby in his crib and called 911 from hearing all the commotion. She came into the kitchen and gasped at the site of the entire kitchen a mess. The rush of emotions and morning sickness started to take over you. You felt yourself tipping over to the side before bumping into Louise.
"Deena are you okay?" She yelled making Negan look up to find you struggling to stand straight.
"Louise sit her down." Negan instructed without letting go of Michael. Michael scoffed with blood pouring out of his mouth when soon you heard the sound of the cops at the door.
"My brother will handle all of you."
"Youre brother can choke on my dick." Negan squeezed down harder on Michael's neck. The police quickly entered the house and detained Michael who kept yelling at all of you as they dragged him out. Negan rushed to you, grabbing a chair and sitting down right in front of you. You instantly noticed his bloody and bruised knuckles.
"Sir, do you need us to take a look at that?" A paramedic asked Negan.
"No, this is fine-" he shook his hand not worried of any injury.
"I need you to check her." Negan motioned towards you but you quickly shook your head.
"I'm fine, I'm just dehydrated-.
"And pregnant." Negan interrupted.
"You're pregnant?! What!" Louise screamed with excitement making you chuckle. Negan himself couldnt help but smirk a bit.
"Yes, Louise. Wait-wheres Jack?" You looked around as your heart began to race.
"Hes upstairs sleeping, hes fine. Dont worry, Deena." She hugged you as Negan stayed holding your hand. "You're going to need to get a restraining order on that guy if hes bailed out. You cant be here alone with the baby, and pregnant with that mad man knowing where you live."
"Oh she wont be alone, I can promise you that."
Negan meant every word he said, he was never going to risk losing you again.
If you have ideas for a part 3 if youd like one let me know? Not sure where to go after this or if I should continue at all.
#jeffrey dean morgan#the walking dead negan#the walking dead fanfiction#negan x you#negan smut#negan twd#negan fan fic#negan x oc
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[Deja Vu]
Arisu Ryohei × Reader
Is it angst? Kind of, but not really. I heard this song, and this was the first thought that came to mind. So... yeah-
Warnings: swearing, needles, blood, does anger need one? Because there's a lot of that here, alcohol, implied sexual content, but it's not explicit? Like... it's implied what happened, but I didn't write it, you know?
It was a harsh breakup, you'd say. Of course you'd say that, you were the one who's heart got broken. Arisu had met Usagi, and you could feel him drifting away. So, when you broke up, you expected it, but it still hurt.
And now, you watched them across the pool while they sat eating strawberry ice cream together. You smiled sadly. You two used to do that. She was wearing his jacket, and it hurt you. You used to wear that exact same one. You felt someone sit besides you. "Watching them again, huh?" They said. "Yep. Is it weird?" You asked. You looked besides you seeing him look up with a questioning look. "Yes, but no? What do you want me to say?'' He joked. You shoved his shoulder. "You're so mean Niragi. I'll push you into the pool!" you pouted, ending in a laugh. He chuckled, "Yeah yeah. Let's go, that isn't good for you."
"So when's he gonna tell her?" You asked, laying on his bed. "Tell her what?" Niragi asked. "That we did that too... She thinks it's special, but it's all reused," you responded. You could hear him sigh. "Look, I want to be nice, because I- we're... acquaintances... or whatever you want to call us. So, here's how you're going to get over him."
You laughed, taking another sip of the beer bottle. There were bottles littered around the room, and the blasting music from the party could be heard in his room. The vibrations from the bass could be felt, making you sigh. "Ok, I'm ready!" You shouted eagerly. "I don't even know why the hell you grabbed these in our last supply run," he laughed, holding the small package. You shrugged, "Thought I'd get the courage to do it." You two were very much drunk, and you were about to do mental breakdown things(TM). "Just do it before I regret my decision!" You scolded, with a playful glare. He laughed, "Ok ok, stick out your tongue, I think you've had the ice in there long enough." You did as he told you. He held your tongue still with his fingers, and he grabbed a needle with his other hand, looking at you to make sure. You tried not to laugh, and nodded. He stuck the needle through quickly. The metallic taste of blood filled your mouth, but somehow no pain. Maybe it was because you numbed it with ice, or the fact that your broken heart hurt more. You waited for him to stick the piercing through, and take his hands away from your mouth. "And we are done!" He shouted with a laugh, wiping off the blood that had gotten on his hands. You stumbled off the bed, sticking out your tongue in the mirror. "Oh I'm fucking hot," you said. You could heat him laugh. Blood dripped from your mouth onto the drawers beneath. He didn't seem to care about the mess. "Am I supposed to bleed that much?" You asked. He shrugged. You turned with a mildly shocked expression, and hit him. You both started laughing. "I'm going to regret this aren't I?" You asked. "It's better than cutting your hair, trust me. Best impulse mental breakdown things I've ever done are tattoos and piercings," he responded. You laughed, rolling your eyes. "What else should we do?"
"Alright, now, just scream into the open," he instructed. "Won't anyone hear?" You asked. You two had somehow managed to stumbled up the stairs, and were now on the roof. A danger hazard, seeing as you two almost didn't make it up the stairs. But in that moment, neither of you cared. "Eh, they're to drunk to care," he said. You nodded, before adding, "But you're doing it with me." "No, I'm just going to let you have all the fun- duh, I'm going to do it," he said. You took a deep breath, getting your anger and pent up rage towards Arisu and Usagi.
"I HATE TO THINK THAT I WAS JUST HIS TYPE!"
"THE GIRL I LIKE IS STUCK ON A DUMBASS BOY WHO DOESN'T DESERVE HER!"
"HE DOES ALL THE THINGS WE USED TO DO WITH HER!"
"I WISH I DIDN'T HAVE CHISHIYA TO BOTHER ME EVERYDAY!"
This was therapeutic to both of you. He didn't want to reveal how he was really feeling, but alcohol does something to people. So, if he said something a bit personal, hopefully you wouldn't remember. Hopefully you were to drunk to remember. And although he knows he'll remember because he's not as drunk as you, he hopes he doesn't remember either. Just so he doesn't hate himself for saying something.
"SHE'S BASICALLY ME AND IT MAKES ME ANGRY BECAUSE ALL THAT SETS US APART IS HER LOOKS! SHE'S EVERYTHING I WISH I LOOKED LIKE AND ARISU FUCKING KNOWS THAT!"
"I HATE THAT NO ONE HATES ME MORE THAN I HATE MYSELF!"
"I HATE THAT HE TOLD ME I DIDN'T HAVE TO WORRY ABOUT HER! I WAS SO FUCKING RIGHT TO BE INSECURE WHEN SHE'S EVERYTHING I WISH I WERE!"
"I'M MAD AT THE FACT CHISHIYA SAW ME FALL INTO THE POOL AND NOW USES IT AS LEVERAGE!" (trying to make you laugh? Kinda. Trying to make myself laugh? Definitely.)
"THE SONGS WE USED TO LISTEN TO REMIND ME OF HIM AND IT HURTS TO NOT BE ABLE TO LISTEN TO MY FAVORITE FUCKING SONG!"
"I HATE BEING ALONE!"
"I HATE THAT I'M STILL IN LOVE WITH ARISU!! HE'S MOVED ON BUT I STILL FUCKING HAVEN'T!"
"I'M PRETTY PISSED OFF ABOUT THAT TOO, ACTUALLY!"
"I FUCKING HATE HIM! I FUCKING HATE HER! AND I FUCKING HATE THAT I'M JEALOUS OF WHAT THEY HAVE, BECAUSE IT'S ALL EXACTLY THE SAME AS WHEN ARISU AND I WERE TOGETHER!"
"THE FACT (Y/N) DOESN'T KNOW SHE DESERVES BETTER THAN THAT PIECE OF SHIT PISSES ME THE FUCK OFF!"
"THE FACT NIRAGI SAYS HE DOESN'T HAVE ANY GODDAMN FRIENDS ANNOYS ME BECAUSE I'M RIGHT FUCKING HERE!"
"THE FACT (Y/N) IS OBLIVIOUS TO EVERYONE'S FEELINGS FOR HER IS ANNOYING AS HELL!"
"THE FACT NIRAGI THINKS PLAYING THE TOUGH GUY SCARES ME MAKES ME WORRY ABOUT HIS MENTAL HEALTH!"
"I WISH SOMEONE WOULD HIT ME THE WAY THEY DID IN HIGHSCHOOL SO I COULD FORGET ABOUT MY FEELINGS FOR THIS GIRL!"
"I WISH NIRAGI DIDN'T KEEP ANY SECRETS FROM ME SEEING I'M HIS BEST FRIEND!"
"I WISH (Y/N) WOULD ACKNOWLEDGE OR AT LEAST NOTICE THE FACT THAT I'VE LIKED HER FOR- FUCKING- EVER!"
You panted from screaming so much, and looked at him shocked. "Shit, I didn't meant to-" he started. Maybe it was the alcohol, the sadness you felt, but you pulled him in for a kiss. It was sloppy and all over the place, but in your intoxicated state, it felt like heaven on earth. You could care less about it, because a part of you had always wanted to do this. With Niragi. The feelings for him were always there, you just felt stronger ones for Arisu. And over the past few days, your feelings had grown. Maybe it was the fact that he was the one helping you through the breakup. He was there, and he seemed to care. And moreover, Arisu wasn't a thought in your mind in this moment. The hurt had gone away in that minute. Would you regret this in the morning? Maybe, maybe not.
You woke up due to the throbbing headache you had. You grabbed your head, sitting up. The blankets fell of your body, and you looked down. "Oh fuck... what happened last night?" You questioned, seeing as your clothes were nowhere to be found. You looked besides you, seeing Niragi on the other side of the bed. Your jaw dropped. "I- ma'am, did I-? Oh no. Oh nonononono, what the fuck-" you panicked. Not because you didn't like him, but more because you were drunk, he was your friend, and you were trying to get over a breakup. Which, in drunk (Y/N)'s defense, you did seem pretty over it when you were with Niragi. You heard a groan, and looked besides you. "Good... morning?" He muttered sleepily. 'Hot-' 'Shut up you horny bitch' You ran your hands through your hair. "I- what did we do?" You asked, even though it was obvious, and the fact that you could remember certain events from last night made you blush. "Well, first you were watching those two being couple-y, then we got drunk, you more than me though, you pierced your tongue, we screamed off the roof, and things escalated from a kiss, and now we're here," he explained. How the hell did he remember so much? Wasn't he just as drunk as you? "And before you ask, I may get drunk, but my memory will not falter. I've tried. Doesn't work," he said. Could he read your mind? You sighed, falling back. He looked away, trying to sort out his own feelings. A part of him was happy, seeing the hickeys and marks over your body. He had wanted to do that forever. Another part felt regret because you two were drunk. It didn't matter what had happened, neither of you were in the right state of mind. He knew whatever had happened was merely the alcohol messing with your brains, and the hurt from your broken heart. It wasn't real feeling. And the last part was sad. Although, it was a small part of him, it was there. Sad because you would most likely want to not talk to him. Or, at least that was the worst case scenario in his mind.
"Do you... do you regret it? Be honest," you said. Your voice was so quiet, he could've missed it. He looked down at you, seeing you stare blankly up at the ceiling. He scoffed. "Hell no. And I don't care if you do, because I don't. I won't either. I've wanted to do that for so long, but you were with him," Niragi answer bitterly. You looked over, surprised. "You don't regret it?" You asked again. He shook his head. You sat up, crawling on the bed over to his side. "I don't... I don't know how to feel. I remember... its and bits of it... I just don't want you to think I did it to get over Arisu," you explained. "I wouldn't think that. See, the thing about alcohol is it can make people act how they want to act and see what they want to see. And the fact you were screaming my name and not his even as drunk as we were tells me something," he said, a teasing tone so very present. . You could hear the smirk in his voice. You blushed, and leaned your head on his shoulder. Had you really? "Then... what are we?" You asked. "Ah, the age old question. This is cliche, no?" He joked. You hit him softly muttering, "Take this seriously please." He sighed, shaking his head. "I don't know. Friends with benefits, fuck buddies. Whatever you want," he said. You pulled away with a smirk. "See, you left out 'a committed relationship'. That means you don't want that," you pointed out. He scoffed, fake hurt written on his face. "I just didn't know if that was too much for you. But I'd enjoy it."
You finally felt... complete. For the first time after the breakup, you didn't look to see where they were to avoid them. You didn't feel jealous or sad over the fact that they were talking about what used to be your song. Because now, it wasn't your guy's song. It was theirs. And that was OK now. Because you could see the hurt that his eyes held when Niragi's arm was around your waist. The shock on his face when you talked to them, and his eyes moved over the hickeys and marks littering your skin.
Slowly over the next few weeks, you heard Arisu accidently call Usagi your name, the same way he'd called you her name. It made you laugh. Because now, you were happy, and he was the one in pain. He was the one who would regret everything. Not you.
"(Y/N), can we talk?" Arisu asked. You pouted, but got off of Niragi's lap. He pecked your lips, glaring at Arisu. You could hear Arisu gulp, and you snickered. You two walked away.
"What did you want to talk about?" You asked. "I-... I'm sorry for how I ended things," he apologized. You nodded with a smile. "I accept your apology," you said. You could feel where this conversation was going, and it made you giddy with excitement. "I miss you, you know. I wish I hadn't done that, I was stupid," he said. You smirked. Exactly what you thought he'd say. "Look, I wish you and Usagi the best. I've moved on. I'm finally happy without you, and it's the best feeling in the world. You breaking up with me hurt so much at first, I thought I was going to die. But it ended up being the best gift you ever gave me. You do all the things you used to do with me with her. And I hope it gives you deja vu, so you can remember that I'm better. Sure, she's amazing, but she's basically me. I'm finally feeling confident, and not like I have to compete with another girl who's everything I want to be. Around him, I don't have to act like someone else because I want to make him happy. I act like me, and he actually likes the real me. I always told you to not worry about him because we were just best friends, but now that I'm here... you really were right to worry about him. I was always the better choice, and I'm glad you're realizing it when I don't need you to anymore. I'm with Niragi now, and I'm sure he's waiting, so... goodbye. Good luck with Usagi though, Arisu. Treat her well, and... as I said earlier, I hope you get deja vu when you see her and you're doing the things we used to do."
I still can't write angst for shit, oh my gods-
#alice in borderland#×reader#arisu#can i write angst?#no the answer is no#but do i try?#hell yeah-#Spotify
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A darling shared by Shoto, Izuku and Bakugo, but one day Izuku is incapacitated and in the hospital. The other two take this opportunity to be with their darling because Deku is the clingiest and they never have the strength to ask him to make room... Major cuddles and maybe they're still in U.A.? Perhaps there was another villain attack and the darling kicked ass, and the others are just like "see that was a one time thing because we were caught off guard, you're lucky you didn't get hurt"
They’re so soft… For clarification, Izuku’s in the hospital after him and their Darling were caught in a villain-attack. They’re all Pro-Hereos, at this point, so… yeah, have some soft boys.
TW: Emotional Manipulation and Implied Controlling-Behavior.
“How many bones do you think the dumbass broke this time?”
Katsuki’s voice was quiet, the question more for himself than for Shoto or yourself. But, you both already knew who he was talking about. Izuku was at the hospital over-night, everything that could possibly be casted covered with gauze and splinted until the following morning. You’d already been to visit him, but after realizing how cuddly Izuku could be when he was on more pain-killers than a hardened athlete, you’d retreated back into the safety of Katsuki’s apartment, and into its owner’s equally clingy arms. He didn’t try to smell your hair, though, which you appreciated.
“A lot,” Shoto answered, never glancing up from the book in his hands. While you laid on the blonde’s chest, Shoto’d merely propped himself against your back, free arm casually resting on your thighs. You never thought either would be a fan of the touchier parts of a relationship, but judging from the soft growls of protest and sharp glares trying to move had earned, you’d spoken much too quickly. “Like… eleven, probably.”
“There are two-hundred and six bones in the human body,” You mumbled, if only out of habit. “The nurses said at least one-fifteenth of them were fractured.”
Shoto blinked. “He might’ve even broken twelve.”
Katsuki snorted, and you fought the urge to giggle, Shoto sending both of you a weird look over his shoulder. You took the opportunity to sit up, the taller boy draping himself over your shoulder as you straddled Katsuki’s chest, who didn’t seem to have a problem with the new arrangement. “Which is why all of you should be thankful I was there. Midoriya would’ve just kept fighting if I hadn’t been there to actually restrain the attacker. I only got a little bruised up, too! We have to go out, after he’s better.” Shoto let out a disgruntled noise, somewhere between a purr and a whimper, but you only ignored him. “I think I’ve earned a real date-night, this time.”
You’d expected refusals, hesitant agreements, some sort of acknowledgment, but neither spoke, simply looking past you, seeming to hold a discussion with their eyes. You were used to dealing with their special brand of communication, the way they seemed to talk with only a series of shrugs and scowls, but that didn’t make you any less frustrated when Shoto opened his mouth. “I… we don’t think that’s for the best, angel.”
You opened your mouth, ready to tell him all he’d have to do was put on his good suit while you and Izuku danced, but Katsuki beat you to it, speaking over you despite the absence of another voice. “Listen, what Low-Budget-Zuko is trying to say is… we just don’t think it’s a good idea for you to do things so thoughtlessly, anymore. I mean, you were just walking home, weren’t you? It wasn’t a patrol or anything.” Reflexively, you nodded. You and Izuku had similar schedules that day, so you decided to walk home together when someone attacked the two of you. It was a simple as that, just random, petty violence. Violence that no one could’ve prevented. “See? You didn’t think, and something bad happened. Something that could’ve gotten you fucking hurt.”
You shook your head, smiling nervously, a gesture neither of your companions returned. “No, that’s… what do you mean?” The assumption died in your throat, every possibility that crossed your mind too controlling to be what they really meant. With an awkard laugh, you forced yourself to continue, straightening your back a little more, trying to distance yourself from Katsuki. “Are you trying to say I’m not allowed to go outside?”
“It’s a possibility,” mused Shoto, playing with the collar of your shirt. “We haven’t come to any firm solutions, yet, but we don’t want you working, anymore. It just too risky, what if something happens? The city’ll be fine with one less Hero, especially with the three of us picking up the slack.” You flinched away when cold fingertips pushed into the nape of your neck, but Shoto only moved closer, nuzzling his cheek against your back. “Everything’ll be fine, especially if all of us can agree that this is the right decision.”
Now, you couldn’t help but draw back. You were more surprised than you were afraid, too… shocked by what they were saying to register the levity of the situation. With another breathy, forced chuckle, you tried to move away, but Katsuki only looped his arms around your waist, pulling you a little too forcibly against his chest, Shoto swiftly spreading himself out over your back, his weight stopping you from trying to get up again. Still, you pushed at Katsuki’s chest, your hope that they were making some terrible joke dying with every passing second. “No, no, you can’t make me stay here. I don’t want to quit… and what if Midoriya doesn’t want to do something so crazy? He couldn’t be alright with this.”
As soon as you stopped talking, Katsuki laughed, kissing the top of your head before he responded. “Who do you think came up with this? The fucker’s been begging us to lock you up for weeks, he’ll be more excited than anyone, when we tell him. Got real creepy about it, too. We had to stop him from ordering a collar or any of that ‘pet-play’ bullshit.”
Again, you tried to get away from them, to say something that would make them understand that none of this was normal, but Shoto only pushed himself against you, Katsuki silencing you with another sharp, strong tug. It was uncomfortable, bordering on painful, but any words that could’ve made it out of your lips were drowned out by Shoto’s content hums and Katsuki’s oppressing warmth. Hell, Izuku wasn’t even in the room, but you could feel those eyes boring into you, that smile you’d never gotten used to biting away at your confidence.
Luckily, Shoto brought you out of your thoughts, pecking at the crook of your neck between words. “You’ll come around to it,” He reassured, his voice happier than you’d ever heard it. “We’ll help you, and eventually, you won’t even remember you were ever a Hero.”
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere oneshot#yandere drabble#boku no hero academia#boku no hero academia imagines#yandere boku no hero academia#yandere bnha#todoroki x reader#yandere todoroki#shoto x reader#yandere shoto#yandere bakugo#bakugo x reader#yandere katsuki#katsuki x reader#izuku x reader#yandere izuku#midoriya x reader#yandere midoriya#yandere deku#deku x reader#yandere todobakudeku#yandere scenerio#my hero academia imagines#yandere my hero academia imagines#my hero academia
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When your crush is angry all the time
Ch.4
I wanna be an intern too, you ragedy ann looking ass hoe 😠

Y/n pov
°•○●○•°•○●○•°
All goes well when you are ignorant is what my dear best friend would say to me now, as I sit in the very back of the class unfocused on how our teacher is introducing an activity I have no chance of participating in. All I knew was that when Mr. Aizawa walked up to the board and wrote names of people getting offers, I wasn't one of them. Not that I expected to be, considering I wasn't in the sports festival, let alone the school at all back then.
However, I did notice a small inconsistency in the order of the most offers. I was pretty sure that boom boom had gotten first place in the festival, him being there is what convinced me to transfer, but his name was actually second on the board.
Todoroki had taken the place of first as far as offers were concerned. Todoroki the nice boy who I used to meet when I snuck away from my fucking prison cell. Call me privileged for complaining about living in a mansion All my life, but I much prefer being here. With common folk. They ground me.
I peeked up from my phone at the red and white head of hair in front of me, he didn't seem all that fazed. Although maybe it was just the lack of seeing his face that made me believe he couldn't care less about all but one of those offers. Still, his business is his, and my business is the new Ao3 update on my favorite chrollo lucilfer fanfiction. What a babe.
I decided that the class as of right now would be of no importance to me, considering I will have no offers, and bakugou-the reason I came here- hates me like I'm a piece of gum stuck under his shoe. Through that conclusion I allowed myself to dissolve into the world of hxh and forget about how boring this world is.
Could my power beat Killua or go in a fight? I mean, it doesn't enhance my strength like they did trying to get into Killua's house so physically they must be stronger.
"Y/n! Is there something you would like to share with the class?"
Mr.Aizawas voice seemed almost shot at me as my gaze rose from my phone in my lap to meet him at the front of the room. He looked displeased to say the least. Well good for him, im displeased too, I might not be able to beat a fucking twelve year old in combat.
"Huh?"
"You were grumbling, what's so important you had to tell us, hm?"
I thought it through for a second- just kidding, I never think anything through.
"Oh, well I wasn't sure if I could beat Gon in a fight, but I'm not coming to the realization that if Chrollo is my boyfriend, I shouldn't have to fight anyone at all. I can just be a pretty face in the backgrounds and then after he wins for me i'll suck his-"
"Enough, y/n." Mr.Aizawa no longer held a tired looking face, his eyes were wide and an uncomfortable cringed was set on his face. As I peered at the rest of the class many also had shocked eyes, but unlike our teacher, held faint blushes.
Minus midoriya, his face was completely red and his eyes void of life. I must've killed him, huh.
"Wait!"
In an attempt to regain some dignity, I tried to correct myself.
"I would....not suck his-?"
"Don't even say it, shitty princess !"
"Woah bakugou, you spoke to me on purpose!?"
"Shut up!"
"Hey, how come you call me princess, you like me or something?"
He growled at that, neither of us paying mind to the fact that everyone in the class was either dead from nosebleeds or extremely uncomfortable and staring at us.
"Its cuz you act fucking entitled like a princess"
"I'll be your pillow princes-"
"Enough!" A robotic-like hand sliced the air in front of me. The voice sounded firm, almost more teacher-like than our teacher's voice. I followed my gaze up the hand, not failing to notice how as I drew up the guy's arm his muscles only seemed to get bigger and bigger and- iida?
"Oh class rep-"
"Y/n this vulgar language and border-line harassment needs to cease immediately. I will not tolerante overtly sexual language and acts in this class-"
As he was speaking I noticed something ironic about the situation. If everyone here didn't like sexual jokes or banter, how were they so flustered at comments that objectively should be unknown to them.
"How did you know what I meant, iida?" I rasped in a low sultry voice, allowing my fingers to dance up his arm starting at the wrist in front of my face.
I heard a few chuckles from, who I would say are the only two people enjoying this situation: kaminari and...stinky mineta. Iida's face grew more red than previously and the arms in front of me began shaking.
"Mr.Aizawa it seems I've disarmed the robot. Is there a restart button or something?" I question with a serious face using the search as an excuse to wonder my eyes all over his body. Perverted? Yes. Rightfully attracted to this giant hunk of a nerd. Yes ×10.
"No, there is not." Todoroki, who was in front of me, finally turned around to address me. I guess he was unfazed by my words. Looks like someone here can be cool. Whether he is okay because he is more comfortable with sexual jokes, or because he has yet to pick up on them, its nice that somebody in here can still function. Otherwise, I'd feel like a nuisance.
"Y/n I'm not really sure how to- let's just say to have detention with your m- midnight. Detention. Yeah." Aizawa publicly convinced himself of my punishment?
"Okay"
"Now, back to this, even if you didn't get any offers ALL of you will have an internship"
And so went on the class, kids chose their hero names, not me though. I wasn't even sure I wanted to be a hero at all, this was just a little less boring and sad than the way I lived before. This school had people who laughed in joy, not just to mask the pain. That was the real benefit, not being a hero, or being strong. Likely no one here realized that there were many places where none of this joy was possible.
Some of the kids in class gave me suggestions for a hero name, but I didn't like them anyway. They lacked personality, and while I have many adjectives to describe my personality, my life, none of them are all that heroic.
"Dark element"
"Girl who will die if her quirk doesnt like its environment"
See, I'm not the best at this. Even bakugan names had some sense to it...well no. I'd say we're about the same, but still. Ugh.
~timeskip~
Bakugou pov 😠
She came up with no hero names. Fucking entitled brat. Everyone at this lunch table seems to have no problem with the fact that she is here, just happy to have another pair of tits to stare at like perverts. Their gross. I bet she doesn't even want to be a hero, she sure as hell doesn't act like it. We don't even know what her whole quirk is. Ive seen her do that plant shit a couple times, fucking with flowers or whatever. Still, there's more to it. Something we don't know, at least. Cuz in the middle of class she gets up and whispers to Aizawa and he just lets her go. Where the fuck does she go?
Interrupts class, got into the school because her moms a teacher, won't use her quirk. What a nuisance, I can't believe she is not expelled yet. Plus those bullshit sex jokes are so shitty. She is obviously faking something when she does them. Not like midnight, who always at least seems like she means that gross shit.
"Hey, who did you guys choose for your internship? I haven't chosen yet."
"The number three hero guy," I spoke, knowing I'm the only person here who already chose.
"Really? Best jeanist! That's so cool, but are you sure that for you bakugou?" Shitty hair raised a shitty brow at me.
"What the hell is that supposed to mean!?"
"Just that he seems pretty...uptight..for you?" Dunceface added, but he spoke like it was a question. Of course he is the hero for me, he is the highest ranting hero on my list. If I wanna be number one, I gotta train with the best.
If I go to his agency I'm sure there will be a lot more action, since he is so high ranking. Then i'll get some real experience kicking villain ass, well, other than the USJ.
"Of course he is the right option!"
"Woahhh~"
Shit. It's her voice. I honestly should applaud her for using it less often around me but, how can one small girl be so goddamn annoying. I don't even know what she has to say and I already wish she would just put a sock in it. How can someone so entitled like her, probably never had to lift a finger, walk over here and talk like she has something to say.
"You're working with the best jeanist! So cool, one time he saved me from a group of rapist guys, it was awesome with all these strings everywhere and I could only see half of his face. Oh and he had goofy hair too!"
Oh. I didn't really know how to respond to the girl who looked so excited about almost being violated. Another thing wrong with her? I looked back at the other people at the table to see if they knew how to respond to something like that.
Dunceface was frozen, tape arms were frozen, shitty hair was frozen, and alíen eyes were looking like a lost puppy and trying not to cry.
It didnt seem like the shutty princess was exactly understanding how what she just yelled was making things weird. She just stood there expectantly. She kinda looked like she thought being raped was something that must happen to everyone. Did she think that? Wouldn't put it past her weird ass.
"Uhm...anyways, i'm sure you'll do awesome, he likes to put boys in tight jeans. Wish I could intern too, I'd love to see that boom boom~" she winked.
A perverted joke...and then she had the audacity to wink at me.
"You wish you could see me in tight jeans, shitty extra!"
"I know...thats what a I just said." She dead panned, blinking a couple times at me.
"Tch, screw you!"
"I would-"
"Can it, i don't wanna hear your shitty voice anymore"
The girl stopped herself after my words, pushing all her hair behind her head, except for the two blond stands in the front.
(You don't have to acknowledge these if you don't want, but I made it so that they change color depending on what element your using and I thought it was hot*if you have short hair, then you just got a lil nishinoya type thing 🥰)
Lifted her obnoxious hands that moved around while she talked and made a zipper-like motion over her lips. Then she just stood there looking at me. I really wanted to just let her stand there and go back to eating. Ignore her completely and let her hope fizzle out and die or something like that.
Yet here I am, still looking at her. Silently. Wishing she made a stupid joke so that I could stop flickering between those images I'd seen of her dancing. How even though ballet is a princess fucking dance, the pictures felt nice. Like if I was watching it live I would probably be unable to criticize it. That pissed me off, because I want to hate everything about her, but I can't hate those photos. Where she looks like she is flying, without any need for a quirk.
I see her in that weird gown, and now, in the UA uniform. I see her looking respectable, formal, and serious. Then I see her stupid little smirk as she takes pride in being able to shut up for more than a minute.
"Why are you still standing there?"
Instead of answering, she took her hand up again, made a pinch with her fingers and unzipped her mouth.
"I was enjoying the look in your eyes."she smiled.
The look in my eyes? Could she tell I was seeing two different people? What the hell does that even mean? Even said it without that shitty flirt voice. Like she meant it.
"You tryna make fun of me?"I stood up from the table to get in her face.
"Not right now, maybe later, I gotta do something." She smiled sincerely at me, for a second as she walked away, I forgot about how this conversation started. What a wierd fucking girl. I'll never respect her as a hero. Tch. (Yes, its canon he tchs even in his thoughts)
3rd person POV
Y/n briskly walked out of the cafeteria with a new goal in mind. She would come to remember how maybe being oblivious was a benefit in some ways, but for now, she had a clear plan .
"Mr.Aizawa, let me do an internship."
"You weren't in the festival, I can't just hand you to a hero who has no idea what you can do, y/n."
"Well, you know what I can do, right?"
"No. I'm not doing internships. Stop asking."
"That's not what I meant! You can just tell them, or I could, it's not that hard to explain. Just say i'm all- powerful or some play on words like 'she's got all the right elements' hehe, see how i mimicked your voice there?" Y/n grinned like a child. She was proud of herself.
"No. Still not happening."
"I wanna be an intern too, you raggedy ann looking ass hoe"
"Y/n, it doesn't make sense, insulting me to get what you want?"
"Maybe it doesn't, but I bet you feel real insecure about your hair right now."
"You already have detention, what more do you want!"
"An internship, I wanna do one with kamui Woods, I have a good reason, too. As far as my quirk control, i'm the weakest with earth, the aspect that allows me to grow and manipulate plants and stuff. That's why I've only been using that part of it all month. Im trying to get her up to speed so I can start using all four at once. He is like a tres guy, right? He manipulates earth all day long. He could teach me a lot, and that aspect of my quirk would suit his well. Please!?!?!?"
If the girl had just asked again in a normal way, his answer would have been the same. However Aizawa was taken aback to hear how much thought she put into this. From the stories of the teachers lounge, he came to understand her big life goal, was to rely fully on a rich man or woman, and do nothing at all forever. Just to try and forget about the terrible life she was destined to have because of that quirk.
This side of her was something he could not even her mother had seen, and it prompted him to speak those words she wanted to hear so badly.
"Fine."
#bakugou x you#bakugou x reader#bakusquad#mha bakugou#bakugou katsuki#bakugou fluff#mha fanfiction#mha fluff
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What are your thoughts about the memory panels from 120? Do you think the memories of these people are relevant because of their circumstances ? We didn't get a single panel of erwin which makes me curious , also no hannes either ? Do you think we will be exploring these memories in the next chapters because somebody pointed out how two of the memories have already been visited; one of ymir (the shadow girl under the key panel ) and one of the soup bowl ( the same bowl was infront of baby eren)
Hello !
I’m really sorry to respond with that long long delay, there’s even a chapter being published since you’ve send this. I apologize for not being effective at answering :/
*
Tbh, I’m still baffled at the fact Isayama put that panel in those memories.
Everyone seems to assume it was an easter egg but would a kind of private joke came like that in the middle of the canon story, at such an important moment ? Especially since acknowledgment of Eren being able to foresee memories from the future, it’s seems like an after-time called to become actual in the end, or a kind of multiverse’s avowal, it’s enigmatic.
Besides, I think we can also relate this kind of emergence of an AU with this picture in the end of the season 3.
Schoolchildren in modern uniform, probably from the same era with those supposed Armin and Mikasa of modern high-school. It’s a scene that seems to be happening in a relatively serene and everyday context there, and nerdy Armin seems to be smiling above. So does the message conveyed is that of a kind of obtention for the future of the freedom so much desired by Eren ? Who knows, but it's hard for the moment to do anything else than disjointed assumptions (still, it’s quit enthralling).
*
All these memories’ circumstances, put side by side in this way, doesn’t release a guideline if you’re thinking on plot level. On one side, there are memories of Eren's life linked to affection, which make us think that his beloved ones still impact on his life as when you “open” his mind, you have 90% of that (Armin, Reiner, Annie, Jean, Sasha, Connie, Levi’s Squad, Levi, Hanji, his mom and even Falco) and only something as less than 5% of abstract representation of freedom. On other side, there are traumatic memories too (Grisha screaming, the Colossus, Eren preparing his weapon to kill Mikasa’s kidnappers, Kruger pushing Eldian on the wall...). But I think we can still feel seeing all these panels, that the sentimental and emotional theme is very present.
The only panel which give us some concrete information is Historia’s. It confirms something fandom figured out since a while, that there was a significant off-screen discussion between her and Eren. Now, if their conversation is just "Hey Historia, could you get pregnant so I’d go into Coordinate and kill your sis / all your family without MP making my all plan ruin by you eat Zeke, plz ”, no need to make all the Historia’s baby drama so enigmatic if it were so, so there’ll probably be something else that we cannot figure for the moment. The fact that there are 2 - 3 maybe panels of Kruger too confirm he still has a key role and his life might be an interesting thing to understand Eren. Especially about the closet part which we had from an internal POV, as it is maybe more than even metaphorical of Eren’s state of mind currently.
For Ymir, sorry but unless going into crack theories (even if it’s already kind of done) I cannot advance anything more.
It's not really important, but there's two things that intrigues me a lot :
It’s Zeke, right ? Eren doesn’t seem to care at all for him so why is he there ?
For the sea, the birds, the bowl (which is btw the one of the moment he remembered how he ate his father and not the one in front of baby Eren I think), the aircraft, the key... Okay symbolism with abstract landscapes or analogy’s objects isn’t something new in SnK, but why the hell is there a horse’s head right there ? Well, it probably doesn’t matter so nevermind.
It isn’t so surprising that there is no Erwin’s panel, Eren didn’t have a strong connection with him. If it were about Armin, Levi or Hanji his absence would be weird but with Eren he didn’t have any sentimental link. And for Hannes, it’s probably because there is already :
so he didn’t need an extra panel in the memories.
Thank you very much for the ask, for your interesting remarks, and again sorry for the long delay of response ! (And sorry for this answer that leaves more questions than answers actually)
#shingeki no kyojin#snk#attack on titan#AoT#shingeki no kyojin meta#snk meta#attack on titan meta#aot meta#shingeki no kyojin analysis#SNK analysis#attack on titan analysis#AoT Analysis#eren#eren yeager#Eren Jaeger#snk 120
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A Royal Journey pt.1
Previous//Next
Genre: Fluff, Fantasy
Pairings: Female Reader x Felix
Word count: 4,487
Summery: Living in a world of magic and monsters can actually be pretty uneventful when you live inside the safety of city walls. But what happens when your closest friends bring you outside that safety?
You live in a small country by the name of Estra, a place where all types of magic and peoples are welcome, which makes for an interesting life. In this country you live in the royal city of Ironwind, and you are a cleric, a royal cleric to be exact. You moved from home and trained to be one since the day you turned ten. Which isn't as bad as it sounds, as you wanted this, to be able to help people using the name of Apollo was always a dream of yours. Being able to help the royal family was just a bonus. You live in a house connected to the temple of Apollo by the castle. You live there with five other clerics who are all a good amount older than you, as they've basically adopted you as their child.
Most days you stay in the temple praying, helping people out who come in or practicing spells. And once in awhile you get to go out into the lower levels of the city to help those who need it most these days are your favorites.
It's another normal day in the temple, people coming in and out, praying, getting healing done. You're in the back room with one of the other clerics putting away some potions when you hear the door open, and you hear a familiar voice, “Y/n, Felix hurt himself again.”
You smile and roll your eyes, “Again? What happened this time?” You walk out to the front where you see your two closest friends Felix and Chan.
Felix is the Prince, and Chan is his closest friend (even though he's more like another parent) the Queen assigned Chan to keep an eye on him because of how much Felix likes to get into trouble.
Chan is in full silver scale mail armor, and Felix is in casual light blue leather armor. “He tried to skip practice again and tripped on a log and hurt his arm.” Chan says with a sigh.
“It was boring! We just keep doing the same things over and over!” Felix pouts. You chuckle, “Let me look at it.” You walk over to Felix and take his arm to look at it and he winces, “How hard did you fall?? This might actually be broken!” Chan sighs, “Your Mother isn't gonna be too happy about this.”
“Wait! Y/n! Can't you just, I don't know, use one of your spells and fix it??” Felix says in a small panic.
“I'm not a strong cleric Felix, my spells can only do so much right now, I can go get Rita if you'd like, she's just in the back room.” You say turning to leave. “Wait! No!” Felix shouts, you turn back around towards him confused. “They don't know me as well as you do… they might put it back together wrong…” He says quietly.
You and Chan look at each other for a second, and then laugh. “Ok, but you'll have to come back tomorrow so I can fully heal it.” You say still laughing a little.
So you heal up Felix to the best of you ability, put his arm in a splint, then send them off and go back to your potions.
The upper city is bustling today, people walking around, shopping, talking. As they walk through the city, people stop their work or conversations to greet Felix with a bow or curtsy, Felix nods in acknowledgement.
“So, which one of us is gonna tell your mom about this?” Chan says walking alongside Felix. “I don't know, either way she is gonna kill me…” Felix says looking dejected.
“How about we tell her it happened at practice, that way she doesn't get as mad, plus, it's not exactly lying, you didn't get very far” Chan says with a laugh and a wink. Felix smiles and punches Chan in the arm “Rude. But thanks, I like that idea”
A small while later they arrive at the castle wall gates. The gates are an intricate silver, and are connected to a large brick wall. On either side of the gate there is a guard tower with a single guard in each. On the ground in front of the gate there are two more guards. “Your Highness.” they say in unison and bow. Felix nods and they open the gates so they can enter.
On the way in they hear a familiar voice “Prince Felix!! Chan!” A smaller boy wearing dark blue wizards robes runs up to them. “Jeongin!” Felix shouts back. The boy kneels down to bow. “Jeongin… I told you that you don't need to be so formal around me.” Felix says with a bit of a frown. “Oh sorry… I forgot” Jeongin stands up.
“Don't worry you're fine, now, why were you running so fast?” Felix asks. “Oh!! Yeah!! I learned a new spell! Do you want to see??” Jeongin says excitedly. “Uh yes!!” Felix says sounding almost more excited than Jeongin. Jeongin then pulls out a small spell book and a skinny twig like wand and reaches it out to cast the spell. “Hey! Not at the front gates!” A guard on the other side of the gate shouts.
Jeongin freezes and lowers his wand with a bit of a pout “Sorry…” He says quietly. “Hey, why don't we head to the garden, there's a nice open area in there we can use.” Chan says. Jeongin's face lights back up with a bright smile and they head to the garden.
The garden is a lush green area full of rose bushes and fruit bearing trees, there is a small pond in the center with a small island with a bench on it in the middle, four bridges leading to it. Around the pond is a grassy area where the boys sit down to watch the new spell Jeongin has learned.
“So, what happened to your arm?” Jeongin asks while they sit on the grass. “Long story, it's not important, what's important is seeing that new spell of yours!” Felix says changing the subject, Chan rolls his eyes at him. “Oh! Right!” Jeongin stands up “Ok ok, are you ready?” Jeongin pulls out his spell book and wand.
“Of course!” Felix says excitedly. Jeongin waves his wand and speaks an incantation, there's a small spark from his wand, and three more Jeongins appear around him. “Ta da!!” Jeongin says triumphantly. Felix and Chan both stand up “Woah! There’s more of you!” Felix says a little shocked.
Chan walks over and attempts to poke one and his hand goes right through it. “This is weird… but also really cool! Why did you learn it though?” Chan says as he continues to poke at the illusions. Jeongin shrugs, “I don't know, it seemed cool.”
They continue to mess with the illusions until they disappear a minute later. “Aw, that was a short spell” Felix says with a small frown. “Yeah, it only lasts a minute, I think it's supposed to be used in a fight” Jeongin says.
“Sure, because you're gonna get in a big enough fight that you'll need this, the biggest fight you've been in was probably over a quill” Felix says with a laugh.
“Not true! I've had sparring matches with my classmates and teacher before! Plus, I'm not just a wizard in training, I'm a war wizard in training, which means I'll be fighting alongside you if we ever go to war once you're king!” Jeongin says matter of factly.
Felix’s face drops a bit “Oh, yeah, right.” He frowns and looks down to the side. “Oh, Felix, I'm sorry... I forgot you don't like talking about that…” Jeongin says apologetically. “No no it's fine, I really shouldn't get like this about it, it's gonna happen no matter what” Felix shrugs.
They all just stand there for a moment. “Well, we really should get to your mother, I'm sure she wants to hear all about your day” Chan says breaking the silence, Felix lets out a sigh “Do we have to?” He whines. “Unfortunately, yes. Come on Jeongin, we'll drop you off at your place since it's on the way” Chan says as he begins to walk, and the other two follow.
They quickly make it to Jeongin's place, due to it being right near the edge of the garden. It's a wooden two-floor house with vines growing up the sides, and a few shrubs around the bottom. It's not exactly the nicest place in the castle walls, but it is pretty.
Jeongin heads up to the house “Ok we'll see you around, keep practicing!” Chan shouts. Felix waves, and they head to the castle. The castle is made up of four large round towers, it is connected by tall walls that go a little past mid tower. The walls are made up of a light grey stone, and there are light blue banners and flags around the outside walls and the tops of the towers. Chan and Felix enter through the main doors which leads almost directly to the throne room. The throne room has a long light blue and silver carpet, and the same coloured banners along the walls. It's a large room with a fairly high ceiling. At the far end of the room is the throne where the Queen is sat; on her right is a smaller empty throne, on her left is a young man with a scroll speaking to her about something.
When she sees the boys enter, she smiles. Although as she sees Felix arm her face fills with worry, and then her brows furrow and she lets out a sigh. She waves her hand to tell the young man to leave, he then bows and makes his way out.
A little over halfway to the throne Chan kneels and bows deeply “Your majesty.” Chan says. “Paladin Chan.” She responds with a smile.
Felix continues closer to the throne and bows, much less deep than Chan “Mother.” Felix says not making eye contact. “Felix. I see you've had an exciting day.” She responds. “What's the story today?” Felix takes in a deep breath, “Well, you see, I was at practice, and this hole, just appears out of nowhere, and my foot got caught, and I fell. See? And I didn't catch myself right, so now my arm is hurt.” Felix says very quickly.
“I see, and why did you not get it fully healed by the clerics? We have some that are strong enough to fully fix that.”
“Uhh… because... the only one available was the youngest one, we'll be going tomorrow to get it fully healed!” Felix explains. The queen chuckles “I see. You sure seem to like that younger cleric down there, I sometimes wonder if you get yourself hurt just to see her.” She remarks.
“What! No! Of course not! Why would you think that?” Felix says rushed and a little panicked. Both the Queen and Chan laugh “Alright alright, calm down.” She says still laughing a bit “I need to talk to you both about something. Chan, come closer to me.” She says in a more serious tone.
Slightly confused Chan gets up and joins Felix, “Are we in trouble?” Felix asks. “No, not at all, the opposite in fact. You're getting to that age where you need to start being more mature, your teachers have told me that you've been doing well in your studies and it might be time.” She states in a serious tone.
“Time…?” Felix questioned. “Time for you to go out and become the king this country deserves. I personally didn't want to do this but the council suggested this to be the best course of action. I'm sending you, Chan and whomever else who you see fit, to go outside of the city.” She states calmly.
“What?! Why?!” Felix shouts. “Felix, calm down, she just wants what's best for you and the kingdom.” Chan says calmly and sets a hand on Felix’s shoulder.
“But what if it's not what's best for me?? What if something happens? What if someone gets hurt, what if I… get hurt..?” Felix questioned quietly.
“Felix… Dear... I know this is a bit scary, but you were going to have to this eventually. Your father had to do this, and his father as well. It's been a something that every royal prince in this kingdom has had to do. You are a strong, smart young man, I'm sure you'll do great.” The queen explains.
“I guess… can I just have a day to think about this? It's a little sudden, I need some time.” Felix asks.
“Of course, you have until tomorrow at this time to let the idea set in.” She responds. “Thank you. I'll be in my room the rest of the day if you need me.” Felix says as he turns and leaves.
Chan bows deeply towards the Queen and turns to follow Felix. As they're about the leave the Queen shouts “Felix wait!” Both Felix and Chan turn back around “I love you.” The queen says with a soft smile. Felix smiles “I love you too.”
Later, Chan drops Felix of at his room, “I'll see you tomorrow morning, please don't run off or anything,” Chan requests. “I won't, don't worry. (Not far at least)” “What??”
“I'm just kidding, calm down, I'm not going anywhere.” Chan furrows his brows and squints his eyes, “Alright, I'm trusting you.” Felix smiles, “Ok, goodnight Chan.”
“Good night Felix.”Chan reaches out and ruffles Felix’s hair, then he turns and leaves.
Later once the sun is fully set and the stars are out, Felix leaves his room. There aren't many guards around at this time so he sneaks out easily. He makes his way to the garden and lays down in the grass next to the pond to watch the stars and think. After about half an hour of watching stars he begins to hear footsteps behind himself. He jumps to his feet and gets in a defensive stance “Woah! Felix, it's just me.” Felix relaxes “Jeongin, you almost gave me a heart attack.” He says clutching his chest. “Sorry… I saw you head out here and thought you might want some company” Felix sighs “Well, you're not wrong, I've just got alot on my mind…”
“Ah, so, do you wanna talk about it…?”
“Well yeah, mom is telling me I have to go out of the city and ‘become the king this country deserves’ and she says I'll be fine, but I'm not sure, I'm worried. What if something happens to the people I bring with me? What if I hurt someone? What we get lost? We could die out in the middle of nowhere?? What if… what if I can't become a good king… I'm not what this country deserves…” Felix sits down in the grass. Jeongin sits down next to him stumped for a moment. “Wow” Jeongin says softly.“Yeah” Felix responds. After sitting in silence for a few minutes Jeongin speaks up, “Felix, why are you worrying so much? You are the coolest person I know! You're strong, smart, you know how to handle yourself in a fight, you have good friends who are willing to help you. I'm positive everything go very well.” Felix sits there for a moment, still looking at the stars, “Ya know Jeongin, you might be right. What if I am overreacting? I mean, I'll have Chan with me, and I can fight pretty darn well…”
“See? You know I'm always right!” Felix then elbows him in the side, “Ow! What was that for??” Felix just laughs and lays back down in the grass, Jeongin follows and lays next to him now also laughing.
“Hey Jeongin?”
“Yeah?”
“Are you a strong wizard?” Felix asks still staring at the stars. “You know it! I'm the strongest student in my class!” Jeongin sits up “Why?” He questions. “Well, mom said I should make up a team of sorts to go with me, do you wanna come with me?” Felix asks still laying in the grass. Jeongin's face lights up, “Um yes!! I was hoping you would ask! I've learned a bunch of new strong spells, and I'll be really useful! You can count on me!” Jeongin says excitedly as he fully stands up. Felix now sits up, “Great! Be in front of the castle two hours after midday.”
“Got it! I'll see you then.” Jeongin says as he lends a hand to help Felix up. Once he's up, they walk to Jeongin's place, say their goodbyes, for now, and Felix makes his way back to his room without issue. And after some over thinking, he finally falls asleep.
The next day Felix wakes up early and Chan is already waiting outside his room “Did you sleep well?” Chan asks. “I did! Thank you for asking!” Felix says with a smile.
“Well you seem much more chipper this morning, are you comfortable with the idea already?” Chan asks with a smirk. “Yup! By the way, we're bringing Jeongin with us!” Felix says walking away “Wait what?” But Felix is already at the end of the hallway.
Later that morning they make their way to the temple to get Felix’s arm fully healed. The temple of Apollo is made of the same brick as the castle. It's a wide one story building with a tall steeple. It has light blue accents and a flower garden that goes all the way around the base of the building. The actual temple area for prying is in the far back, and anyone is welcome to go into it. The front room of the temple is a warm comfortable room with couch like chairs that have pillows and blankets on them. There are potted plants in a few of the corners, and the far right corner has a desk that you're sitting behind writing some things down.
Chan and Felix walk in and you smile “Ah welcome back, are you ready for me to fix you up the rest of the way?” You begin walking towards them, “Yep!” Felix says with a smile. As you make your way over a young lady walks in “Um, excuse me?” She asks quietly “Ah yes, what can I help you with?” You respond. “I was wondering where the shrine was, I was hoping for a quiet place to pray.”
“Ah yes, of course! Can you two excuse me for a moment?”
“Oh, I could take her back if you'd like. I've been here to pray multiple times. That way you can get to healing Felix up the rest of the way.” Chan insists. “Oh alright, thank you Chan!” You say with a smile. She follows Chan to the back and you and Felix sit down. You take his arm and you begin to take off the splint. “So anything exciting happen since the last time you've seen me?” You ask with a smile. “Actually, yes! I'm leaving the city!” He responds excitedly. You freeze, “What?? Why are you leaving??” You furrow your brows and frown. “Mother is sending me, Chan, and a few others of my choosing to leave the city. She says its to turn me into ‘a king this country deserves.” As he's saying this, you continue to remove the splint and begin the spell. “Ah, I see… so that means I won't be able to see you for a long time?” Your eyes stay trained on his arm.
“Actually, I was hoping you could join us! We could use another person who can heal besides Chan.” The spell finishes and you look back at his face, “Really?? Why me though? I'm not the strongest cleric, and I don't really know how to fight…” You look down, setting your hands in your lap. “Oh don't worry about that, I can teach you to fight! And you'll get stronger by coming with us!” He beams as he takes your hands from your lap. “We can get stronger together!” He says smiling happily. “Alright! I just need to ask my superiors and make sure I'm allowed to leave!” You say, now also smiling brightly.
You both sit there for a moment just looking at each other, until you both realize how close you are. You both let go of each others hands and look away, hoping the other didn't see the blush on your faces. You stand up and clear your throat “I should go ask Rita about this, I'm sure she'll let me go.” You say turning around. You then see Chan leaning up against the counter. “Oh, Chan! You're back! How long have you been there...?” You question. “Long enough” Chan says with a smirk. “Ah…” Unsure of what to say you just stand there for a moment.
“Chan! Y/n is coming with us!” Felix says excitedly standing up. “It's not for sure, I still need to talk to the other clerics about it. Which I'm going to do right now, if you'll excuse me.” You say now heading to the back room.
Chan and Felix wait out in the front room for about 15 minutes, Felix starts worrying “What if she can't come? What if she gets in trouble for wanting to leave? What if-”
“I can go!!” You shout interrupting Felix. “That's great!” Chan exclaims. “Why don't you come with us to the castle? We can all talk about what the plan is there. Plus, I'm sure that Her Majesty would love to officially meet you” Chan says smiling.
“Me? Meet with the Queen?? Right now??? I need to go clean up, I am not presentable right now!” You begin to fix your hair and dust off your clothes with your hands. “No don't worry you look fine! She won't care about how you look, just, don't say anything dumb” Felix says walking up to you. “Well, ok then… I can't promise I won't say anything dumb though…” You chuckle nervously.
With that you three leave the temple. At the castle Jeongin sits on a bench near the castle doors. “Chan! Prince Felix! And… person I don't know… Hi!!” Jeongin shouts. “Hey Jeongin!!” Felix shouts back and runs up to Jeongin, “This is Y/n, she'll be coming with us!” Felix says as you and Chan follow up behind Felix. “Oh, hello! My name's Jeongin, I'm a wizard in training!” He says proudly. “It's nice to meet you! I'm a cleric… in training” You say with a chuckle. “Good, now you two know each other, I'm gonna go inside with Chan and talk to talk to my mother. You guys stay out here, Chan will come get you shortly,” Felix states and then heads inside with Chan.
You and Jeongin stand in awkward silence for a few minutes until Chan comes back out to get you, and you both go inside. On the way in you quickly fix your hair and adjust your shirt. You stay close behind Chan because you're weary of doing anything wrong. You three walk in and Felix smiles. You make it little over halfway to the throne, and Chan stops both of you and kneels to bow deeply towards the Queen. You and Jeongin copy him. “Please stand. Come closer to me.” the Queen commands. All three of you stand and make your way to the throne. “So, these are the people you choose to take with you?” She asks. “Yes.” Felix responds with a nod. “I see. Please, introduce yourselves.” She instructs. Jeongin goes up first, he kneels and bows deeply.
“Your majesty, my name is Jeongin Yang, wizard in training, it is an honor to meet you.” The queen nods and smiles. Jeongin stand up and returns to Chan's side. You then go up and kneel to bow. “Your majesty, my name is Y/n Y/ln, royal cleric of Apollo. It is an honor to meet you.” The queen nods and smiles.
“Ah, Y/n, so you're the young cleric Felix tells me so much about” She says with a smile. You stand and make your way back to Chan's side.
“Please, Jeongin and Y/n, come closer.” The queen instructs. Jeongin and you both step forward. “Now, both of you have chosen to join Prince Felix on this journey. And you both realize how dangerous this is, correct?”
“Yes.” You both respond in unison “Good, and you are both willing to risk your life for Prince Felix, correct?”
Felix speaks up “Mother-”
“Yes.” You and Jeongin respond without a second thought. Felix stands there a little slack jawed. Chan smirks, and The Queen smiles. “Good. I can now comfortably send my son into the world with you. Please, keep him, and each other safe.”
“Yes your majesty.” You and Jeongin say in unison.
“Now, you all should prepare to leave in the morning, I recommend you stop at The Heart on the way out, it's the royal guard quarters in the lowest level of the city, they should have requests for you to pick up there.”
“Understood, thank you your majesty.” Chan says with a bow and turns to leave. You and Jeongin bow deeply and do the same, Felix follows behind.
“Felix” The queen says expectantly.
“Yes mother?” He says turning toward her.
“I love you.” She smiles. He stops for a second “I love you too.”
Outside the castle you say goodbye to Jeongin, and he heads back to his place so he can get ready for tomorrow. “Hey, it's getting later in the day, we should walk you back.” Felix says. “It's not a very long walk. But alright, thank you!” You smile.
So Chan and Felix walk you back to the temple. On the way there you spot someone, or something, lurking in the shadows of the alley next to the temple, “Hey, guys, I think someone's watching us…” You gesture towards the man. The moment you say that he runs off into the alley. “Hey!” Chan shouts and runs after him and Felix walks you the rest of the way to the temple.
“I'm not sure I like the idea of you staying here with shifty people wandering around…” Felix states.
“Felix, I'll be fine, don't worry, I've got the other clerics here.” About that time Chan returns, “I'm sorry, he was too fast, I couldn't get him.”
“That's alright, we can tell the royal guard in the morning to keep an eye on this area.” You respond.
Felix looks unsure but agrees “Alright, we'll see you in the morning then. If something happens don't do anything by yourself, make sure you get one of the other clerics.” Felix tells you.
“Ok ok, I got it, I'll be fine, I'm going inside now, good night Felix, good night Chan.” “Good night Y/n” they respond in union. You shut the door, and they head back to the castle.
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#stray kids#stray kids fic#felix x reader#lee felix#felix#bang chan#chan#jeongin#yang jeongin#stray kids fluff#stray kids fantasy#felix fluff#felix fantasy#a royal journey
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The Partner / Chapter Thirteen, "The Healing"
Word Count: 7.7k / Story Masterlist / Read The Assistant / Read on Wattpad / Song: I Will Follow You Into The Dark by Death Cab for Cutie / Warning: Sensitive and upsetting topics, such as death, grief, and miscarriage
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"Since I've met you everything I've done has been in part because of you. I've cant untie myself from you, not my heart or my mind or any other part of me and I don't want to. I always thought love made you stupid make you weak, to love is to destroy. Love didn't make you weak, it made you stronger than anybody I'd met and I realized I was the one who was weak."
- City of Glass
Everything inside of me shouts to flee, to run away from him, but I know that I can't do that anymore. A new old awkwardness steals the space between us as I look into his eyes, feeling mine pour over with the feelings that his stir in me.
"Come on, let's get comfy for this," Harry murmurs. Next, I'm squealing when he stands up, carrying me in his arms. It's easier than I thought it would be when my arms circle his neck, and my head finds his shoulder. "You're lighter, Becks."
I hum an acknowledgement of sorts, not knowing what I could say to that, but part of me thinks that he knows that. I know that he does. That's not what I say next, but something else instead, "Claire's food might help with that. If you stop eating my brookies."
"Your brookies, you say? I don't remember her putting your name on them," he responds. Something sparks inside of me at the sound coming from his chest, the beginning of a laugh. It continues with its song as his feet find the whines and creaks of the hardwood floor. It had been a good while since I'd felt lucky to get to hear his sound, and even more so, to see it at work when he gently lays me down on the bed.
"I guess I can share."
"You're going to have to," Harry says, a duality in his words. I hear it bounce around in my head as I watch him join me underneath the covers. A sliver of lingering afternoon sun peeks in from the window, highlighting the freckles decorating his face.
At that thought, a sour guilt knits together in my gut, because how had I ever stopped feeling lucky to have him? I had wanted him for so long and couldn't believe it when I finally got to call him mine. Even more so when I got to call him my fiance, and the father of my child. He still was, nothing had changed that, and I was so grateful for it.
"There's no pressure, bug. No judgement and no wrong answers . . Alright?"
"Alright," I whisper, still shocked at how weird his touch feels. That was something I never thought I'd think two years into loving him now. My fiance and best friend. His lips hold sunshine when I finally meet his eyes, a color that makes my heart squeeze, because of what I wonder. "I can't tell you how many times I've wondered if she'd have your eyes. Your dimples. Your . . curls."
His nod is silent and yet it's not. It speaks volumes as my favorite shade of green hides behind the sadness filling his eyes. "I've wondered that too, but I've always wished our kids had your eyes. I know she would've been beautiful, just like her Mom."
"Harry," it's a sigh, one damaged by pain that doesn't even skim the surface of how that makes me feel.
"I know, bug. I know," his voice is light like a feather, but as his hand comes to cradle my cheek, I know it's the least bit that. Leaning into his hand, my lips quiver under the weight of his words and those I know I need to say. "I miss her too . . all of the time, Becks."
"What did I do wrong? I still don't understand w-why, Harry," looking up at him through watery eyes, I watch his reaction and how this one stings.
"You didn't do anything wrong, honey. You did it all by the book. Neither of us did and we can't continue to blame ourselves for something that we had no control over . . I wish I could tell you why, but I can't. I don't know. I don't think we ever will know why, Becks."
"I wish I knew why she had to die," I crumple in his hands until I'm hiccuping sobs against his neck, my favorite hiding place that I'd been hiding from. It had been so hard sometimes to just breathe, and now as I fought for it, it felt a little bit easier. I had been slowly drowning this entire time in my own tears and grief, but finally I found hold of him, and he was saving me. I'd at last let him.
"I do too."
"I don't want to forget her, but it's so fucking hard to think about. I know I need to do s-something so that I can . . can think about other things, but then I feel guilty just thinking about not missing her all of the time," I confess against the chain of his necklace, feeling the way his chest heaves against mine.
"I've been thinking the same exact thing . . I never want her to be forgotten, she's our daughter, but her death doesn't need to consume us anymore, Becks. I know it's silly to say, but I don't think she'd want us to do that . . Even if she was only a baby, she'd want us to be happy. I know that grief doesn't let you pick and choose, but I want to be happy again. Happy that we got to be her parents for those almost four months- you know what, we're still her parents and we always will be. Nobody can take that away from us. I want to remember the good. The first time hearing her heartbeat and seeing her on the ultrasound, telling our families about her, and picking her name . . I never want to forget her, Becks, she's our daughter, but we're going to be okay. Maybe not today or in a week, but soon. I want to feel okay again, even though she's gone."
"So do I, Harry," I tearfully agree, busying myself by playing with the curls on the back of his neck. "I don't want . . want her to think that means I've forgotten her or that I love her less. I can't . . can't even imagine having another baby anytime soon."
"I'm not ready either, Becks, and that's okay. I don't know when I'll be. It's alright that we're not okay and may not be for a while, but she knows. I like to think she knows how loved she is, and she's being taken care of by so many loved ones who are telling her that. Our grandpas and grandmas."
"Yeah, she's pretty lucky."
"So are they," he murmurs. It's a while before my lungs calm down and my eyes find him again. A corner of his mouth twitches but a dimple doesn't appear. Instead, a tear and its trail does, glistening on his cheek. "Hi, pretty girl."
A smile is all that I can suffice. I find it too hard to look in his wet eyes for long, and resort to playing with his rings. It had felt awkward to me when I'd put mine back on, not being able to remember why I'd ever taken them off in the first place. But then I remember, and my chest heaves painfully at the memory. It was because of the blood. They had become caked with it and he'd noticed at the hospital and taken them off of me to wash. It hadn't been until earlier today that I'd had the courage to look at them again.
"I never got to feel her kick, and I'm not sure if I wish that I had because then it would've been harder . . Your turn," it's a whisper from my lips as his wait for me.
"I can't find it in myself to get rid of those flowers on the table . . I almost wish that they'd stop coming. Every note says the same thing in some variation, and they're just a blatant reminder every time I see them . . that our baby died."
"It's not just you," I confess and when his thumb settles on the strip of gauze still taped around the edge of my palm, I know that my secret is on its way out.
"Can I see it, please?"
"Sure . . it's really not that bad. It just bled a lot at first, and . . and I didn't know how to tell you," I answer, letting him peel the medical tape back to expose the scabbed over cut. It came as a bit of a shock to me too, somehow making the wound hurt again when I saw the look in his eyes.
"That looks like it hurt, buggie. What happened? I wish you had told me . . had let me help."
"I didn't do it to myself, Harry," I murmur, grabbing onto the courage to look into his eyes. He vocalizes an understanding and I nod, relieved. "Another fucking vase of flowers came a few days ago, I don't remember when. It fell out of my hands when I got it from the delivery guy at the door. A sound scared me when I was picking up the glass . . I don't even know who they were from, because I'm so sick of the flowers too, and so I threw them away . . I can't believe I did that, I still feel guilty about it."
"You shouldn't, love. It's okay. Accidents happen," he assures me. I hear a duality in his words again and find it hard to ignore. "My Mom wanted to come over one of these days to help out. Maybe I can give her the task of doing something with them. They're sore on the eyes for both of us, and I'm rather sure they're bothering my allergies."
"Good excuse," I wink and a dimple almost appears in his cheek. If one did, I don't get the chance to see, because he's pulling me against his chest. "You should tell your Mom that one. It's the safer one out of the two," I continue, feeling my body relax against his. My eyes fall closed at the feeling of his lips against the crown of my head. His favorite spot.
"I think I will . . It's your turn, buggie."
With a labored sigh, I comb my thoughts for one that's tame enough to admit. How could I ever sum up the sour emptiness that's consumed me ever since I woke up that morning without him and . . without her? the thought comes but within moments it's pushed away by another. I don't need to because he knows. Because the emptiness lives inside of him too.
"I feel like I need to find a pretty way to explain all of this- what I'm feeling, but I finally realized that I don't have to. You're feeling it all too," I hardly hear the words myself, and even so, I know that he hears what they really say. "The emptiness, or lack of feeling."
"Yeah, I am . . I'm sorry for exploding on you the other day about it . . About us going through the same thing. It wasn't the right way to do it."
"It's okay. I'm kind of glad for it. It woke me up and made me realize it's not just me m-mourning our daughter."
Harry hums a reply, one I'm not sure how to handle, but he does that for me, "I didn't want to tell you and upset you more, and frankly, I've tried to ignore it myself too." his lips pause. Only when I prompt him with a concerned question does he continue. "She's been trying to hide it, but Gemma told me my Mom is taking it hard. She hasn't told me herself but since she's staying with my sister, Gemma's noticed it and told me."
"Oh God. I had no idea. I've hardly spoken to her . . s-since," I huff, my thoughts spiraling when my scope opens beyond the two of us. "It's not just us hurting."
"Yeah, neither did I. She's done a good job of hiding it, that's for sure. I think what's worst for her is that she wants to do something to help, but doesn't know what. I haven't really let her come around, only to stop by a few times. I know your dad struggles with how to help and Skye too, they've told me so- and I don't intend to upset you by telling you this, so please don't be. I just don't want it to be a surprise to you."
"I know. Thank you," I mumble, hearing his classic hum in return. It had been so long since I'd felt his facial hair rub against my face, and somehow, it sends a tranquility across my body. "I can only imagine how upset my dad is. He was supposed to be a grandfather for the first time. I've spoken to him but, of course, he didn't mention it. That's Chuck for you."
"He told me that he didn't want to upset you, Becks, and he's a quiet one from what I know. To no surprise, he said that he'll be okay, but it's you that he's worried won't be," Harry shares aloud. The volume of his revelation grows inside of my head, but my well of responses shrink away. "Your turn."
Diving into the web of thoughts that have scattered my brain lately, I'm not sure where to go next, and so that's what I say, "I don't know what to say. So much of it is scary . . to think . . . to share."
"You don't have to be scared to tell me, Becks. Nothing bad is going to happen if you say it out loud. I promise. No judgement, bug." Shaking my head doesn't rid my head of them, despite knowing from experience that it wouldn't. Seconds pass and they only grow more stubborn, wanting to be there, and I realize the only way to get them to leave is to say them.
"Harry, wh-what if we try to have another baby and th-they die too?" a shiver runs down my spine before I even say it. When I do, my mouth trembles against his collarbone. Despite squeezing my eyes shut, I feel the hot tears escape them, painting his skin.
If I hadn't known him for as long as I had, his silence would have scared me. Still, I'd be lying if it didn't phase me, because I wait impatiently until he speaks again.
"It scares the shit out of me too, Becks. I can't even . . think about trying for another, because I'm afraid too . . that we'd lose them. The doctor said how many times that it's usually a one time thing, but that doesn't make me stop worrying or being scared. I wish I could tell you that we'd be okay, but . . I don't even know that. I hope so badly we will be, but I don't know."
"We can't know, and that's what hurts the most."
The rumbling of an agreement tickles at my ears and against my cheek where it hugs his chest. Thoughts bloom left and right inside of my brain and aren't even slowed by his fingers combing through my hair. It was something that had never failed to bring me comfort and to lull me into a sleep. That is until now.
"What do we do then . . Harry?" I whisper, fear laced throughout my words. Again, he hesitates. I can almost make out the sound of the wheels turning in his head as he thinks. Lying next to him and wrapped inside of his arms, the tension in his muscles reflects his thoughts.
"I wish I knew, Becks. We just . . have to give it time, I suppose. They say time heals wounds, but a month later and I still miss our baby that we never met. I don't get it . . . I guess we'll give it some time and wait until we're ready, that's all that we can do. And to take care of ourselves."
"And each other," I break in, feeling the movement of his head nodding at my words.
"Yes, that too. It's more important now than ever," Harry says, announcing his words by pulling away to look me in the eyes through his wet pair.
"I can't say how sorry I am that I forgot to take care of you too."
There's just a tert shake of his head I see before my eyes are falling closed, and he's kissing me. I'd done this how many times by now, but it still feels weird. It had been a long time since I'd thought that, probably since my accident, and yet as I kissed him back it felt strange before it felt familiar. Like seeing an old friend. He couldn't know that's why the next tear fell down my cheek when we were looking at each other again, because of the way I'd forgotten him and us through all of this.
"You don't need to keep apologizing. Promise," he tells me with a warm tilt to his lips, just as he taps my nose with his finger. "Boops."
"I love you, Harry," it had been born in my mind shortly after meeting him, this very sentence. At first, they weren't the same words, but they always had held the same meaning. It stirs up emotion inside of me, as if I needed any more, as the Guilt Train speeds on, reminding me of how that thought had been absent from my head lately. It hadn't been the first missing phrase, but it had been the most important one, hadn't it?
Nonetheless, a few dapples of sunshine spread out on his lips as they return it, "I love you more, Becks." His smile waits, hesitating as my own lips do the same. Smiling and thinking.
"I love you the most."
The softest of chuckles pours from his lips as something glints in his eyes staring down at me. "Hey, there's my girl. She's back."
Nodding at him, I realize it's been too long since my lips have reached this high, but he always seems to bring them back. He never fails, afterall.
"I'm getting there. I'm trying."
Inching his face towards mine, my eyes follow his as he brushes his nose against mine, "Thank you, thank you, thank you," his words tickle at my cheeks like a feather, but they don't make me sneeze. They don't make me laugh, and most important of all, they don't make me cry. They make me smile and finally soak in the sunshine he pours onto me. "That's all we can do, Becks - is to try and get better. Eventually we will . . We'll be okay, I know it, maybe not right away but we will."
With the taste of his chapstick on my lips once again, I nuzzle my head into his neck and fall asleep there, for the first time in a very long time. One that had felt longer than all of the other times that I had been without him, even if it wasn't, but it surely was the worst of them all. Because he was there by my side but I couldn't find it in me to reach out and grab onto him. As he sings our song and lulls me into a cryless sleep, I promise silently to never let go again.
*
I woke with a start. It was a surprise, but after it took me a moment to make sense of my surroundings, it wasn't. I had been waking up this way for weeks now, but it didn't make it any easier to breathe this time. Especially not when I found the bed empty beside me. That was something I wouldn't have minded if it were even just two days ago, but no, not now.
Throwing back the covers, my eyes searched the dark room, unbeknownst to what time it was. That didn't let me fall back into the covers and search for sleep again. I hadn't been rational for a while now, and I wasn't when I raced to the door. Somebody beat me to it and upon looking up, a half asleep Harry looked down at me. Confusion twisted his eyebrows into a question but I knocked that off when I circled him in a hug. The sound of a breath leaving him came and then did his arms around me, and my crying.
"Hey, what's the matter?" he murmurs, sleep adding layers to his voice.
"I woke up and you weren't there, I was so scared."
A sound that couldn't be described, other than a huff of acknowledgement comes now from him, "Oh, I'm so sorry, bug. I was just getting a glass of water from the kitchen . . It's still the middle of the night, let's go back to bed."
I let him guide me back to our mess of covers that we call a bed. He pulls them over us and at the feeling of his head hooked over my chin, I try to calm down. It's never been something that I was good at doing on my own.
"Was it a bad one this time?"
A nod.
"What was yours about?"
"You didn't just get up for water, did you?" I ask into the empty air, surely the rest of the city asleep without us. We weren't up early for work or up late from other things. No, I was certain that very few others across the world were awake for the same reason that we were.
"No," he answers, his chest heaving with a sound of sadness escaping him. If only it were that easy. "I'll tell you what mine was about, if you'll tell me about yours."
"You should've been a therapist instead of a lawyer, always getting me to talk," I joke, trying to ease the tension. That wasn't what I was doing, but instead, I was deflecting. Like always. "I was watching everybody around us having kids and . . and we didn't have any . . Your turn."
"We . . We were in the new house and we had a baby. Phoebe," Harry confesses, a hollowness to his voice that hadn't been there since that day. I could tell by the sound of his voice that the waterworks weren't very far. Soon, it was my turn to hold him as his body shook with cries as I tried to keep my own in check.
"That sounds like a good dream," I almost said, knowing there was no point to it. It's the very reason his body shook with each loud sob, because it only made the nightmare scarier.
It was only after a few horribly sung songs to him that his soft snores began, mine soon following.
*
Upon waking up the next morning, it still didn't feel real that I was allowed to be hopeful. To try and be happy and to not feel guilty about it. A small smile hugged the corners of my lips when I remembered the way she sang me to sleep last night despite the upsetting reason for the occasion. I tried to push the memory of that nightmare away and how hauntingly real it had felt. I let my smile linger at recalling the way she took care of me. I had craved it for too long now, the way that I had needed her and at last she had let me.
Those are the thoughts that stayed with me when I pulled on my layers and did my morning walk, leaving her sound asleep with a kiss to her head. Despite the unwavering winter, it was something that had meant more to me than I'd initially planned. Even on the mornings where it took me half an hour or more to talk myself into getting out of bed, I still went on for a walk. It had started small, seeing as how I'd lost any workout regimen when everything had come crashing down. I started small and just walked around the block, but now, I had worked my way up to half an hour walks around the neighborhood.
By the time I'd made my way back to the house, I could hardly feel my nose and could think of nothing better than to slip back into bed with her. The letdown was more severe than I'd expected when I didn't find her in between the sheets. I couldn't be sure if I was surprised, but that was forgotten entirely when I also couldn't find her in the bathroom, in the kitchen, or in the living room. I didn't even waver at the bottom of the staircase before climbing it, ripping open doors frantically in search of her. No longer did I fret about the coldness of my limbs as an anxious warmth had spread over me. The thrashing of my heart and the irrational thoughts filling my head all came to a halt when I opened the door to the nursery, and there she was, sitting on the bed where everything was too.
Something swelled and shattered deep inside of me, leaving me breathless as I stood there, watching her. I looked on as she half faced me, clutching a gray onesie to her chest as guttural sobs consumed her. Recognizing it wasn't what made my hand fly to my mouth, and I wasn't sure what did that. It must have been a combination of the first thing we bought for our child that had passed away, and the fact that she was holding it. What had done it for me was opening this door to see her in here. The room of all rooms. It was where our baby was supposed to sleep, and slowly we had filled it with things meant for them. Now, it had become a mausoleum of sorts, and not once had I stepped foot in here since that fateful day at the hospital.
Pressing my hand against my quivering lips didn't silence the sounds they made as the rivers coursed down my face. Something resonated inside of me, telling me that she knew I was there. My vocal chords had taken a vacation the second I entered the room and laid eyes on her. Unlike them, my legs still worked and they carried me over to her. Sitting down beside her felt regretful when her cries became louder to my ears, and so did their trails on her cheeks. Her body shook harder when my arms came around her, holding her against me from behind. Mumbling her name had never felt so laborious or excruciating, but when she said our daughter's name, I knew it didn't compare.
"Can we . . . ," she started to say, a rockiness to her voice that was becoming far too normal as of late. "Can we look at it all together and then . . can we pack it away?"
Nodding against her cheek, I hummed an agreement. Looking down at her hands rolled into taut fists around the fabric, a memory swam into view, one I'd been trying to forget. She'd finally come around to the idea of being pregnant and during our first shopping trip after my accident, we'd perused the baby aisles happily. The FRIENDS 'Could I Be Any Cuter?' baby onesie had caught our attention right away, and we couldn't wait to put our little baby in it.
Pressing my lips to her shoulder now, I look on as she folds it nicely, smoothing her hand over the letters and the dark spots from her tears. With my mouth against the slope of her neck, my eyes followed when she took out the stuffed giraffe, a sob catching in her throat. There I remained, slowly finding my voice and smoothing my thumb over the plushie, knowing our baby would never play with the gift from her grandmother.
I took the next thing out of the bags we had been gifted from friends and family over the last few months. More stuffed animals and clothes passed through our hands, as did knitted blankets, hats, and more. With each one, the shoulder of her shirt grew wetter with my sad realization that our daughter would never get to love these things, because she was well and truly gone. She was never going to be born and be brought home to live in this house with us, or any other.
It shook my body for long after we placed each folded and caressed item into the plastic bin. She took longer to calm down inside of my arms, and even singing our song couldn't make it all better. For a good while now I had come to accept that nothing would except for time. Maybe not even that either.
*
In some way and somehow, it had been one of the worst days, despite the feeling I had that things were getting better. Slow it may be, but they were. It had almost been a month now since we'd lost our baby and it still hurt as much as the first day. I know he could hear the words bouncing around inside of my head, even if I didn't say them.
"Today was hard, huh?" Harry's murmured words smell of minty toothpaste when they hit my face. The words in my head can't find a way to my lips, and nor can my eyes find his. "How about this, bug. Can you rate how your day was? 10 being the worst ever pain and 0 being none?"
I find it in me to nod my head at his words, encouraged by his hand lacing with mine. The amethyst rings he'd surprised me with not long ago roots me to the moment as I brush my thumb along its stones.
"Eight . . and a half," I whisper, seeing from the corner of my eye how his head moves in acknowledgement. Clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth, it's hard to not see how he bites at his lip. His one tell that could reveal everything. "Your turn."
"It was rather close to a nine for me, as well, but . . . ," his words run away from him, and for some reason, it pulls my eyes over to him. Before seeing them, I know that the wet trails down his cheeks are what made my heart find him with my eyes. "I feel guilty even thinking about it, let alone saying it, but . . it felt good somehow to go through her things together and pack them away. I don't know how I'll ever not miss her, but it feels like some kind of closure."
His confession comes to me as a surprise, but not one that pulls my hand from his or otherwise. No, it keeps my eyes on his and turns my lips up in a comforting smile.
"Me too," I concur, looking on as a sad smile flashes on his face. It's gone as fast as his hand gets caught in his hair.
"God, I never knew something could be th-this fucking hard," he stammers, pressing his thumbs against his eyes. His overgrown curls move when his head shakes.
"Neither did I," it's a whispered reply, coming just before I'm mentally brought back to the day Myles told me that Harry had been shot. Laying my eyes on his naked torso now, I curse myself for getting used to the pink scars littering his body from that day.
Suddenly, I'm doing it all over again, wondering which day had been the worst of my life. Then or the day I'd been told our baby didn't have a heartbeat anymore. I'd done it how many times now and was never able to decide. I hadn't lost him but I'd lost her, and that's what made the two fateful days so different. Squeezing my eyes shut, I exhale and open them again, deciding that I don't need to rank them. They both were excruciatingly awful in their own ways, and will always be some of the worst days of my life.
"It kind of makes you want to drink, huh?" I say before I know what I'm doing. The guilt is instantaneous despite the honesty filling my words. "I'm sorry, I shouldn't-."
"No, you're alright, Becks. You're just speaking the truth and that's what I've wanted for us - to be honest with one another," letting his hand fall from his hair, so do his words from my favorite pair of lips. Turning to lay on his side from being on his back, the bedside lamp sheds light on the black ink covering his skin. "It's made me want to drink so badly, almost as much as when we broke up and all of those other times, so that I could forget. Has it made you want to?"
"Yeah. I was a little mad at you sometimes for it," the admission comes and on its tail end is the guilt, strong and present as ever. His eyes still shine but with that sentence they dull. I blink and it's gone, but the regret pooling from my words doesn't.
"You don't need to feel bad for saying that. I can tell by the look on your face that you are. You can be honest with me, I promise."
"Thanks, and you can with me too. Always, Harry," I respond and the momentous curling of his lips tells me that he heard. "Can I ask . . did you at all . . drink?"
"No," he sighs loudly, dipping his eyes, they fall on my left hand. He'd done it time and time again, and yet, the sensation felt stronger than ever, the way he played with my rings. This time is different though and so is the flash of a smile on his face. "I don't think the urge had ever been stronger, but I resisted. I admit I was close at times, but each time I was, I called my sponsor or Myles. We'd talk for hours in my study, either about you and the baby with My' or about the urge to drink. If I'd had a bottle around here . . God, I knew I'd probably have emptied it and even that thought scares me. I don't want to be like this, Becks." Sniffling, a shiny tear falls from the tip of his nose and onto my knot ring.
"How bad is it today, Harry? Rate it."
"A good seven," he confesses, tearing a hole in my heart when his wet eyes briefly meet mine. "But I had a meeting this morning on Zoom before you were awake, and those have helped a lot. I didn't want to do them at first . . after we'd lost her, but I kept with it, and it made a world of difference . . Myles has really been there for me too- No, don't even say it. Don't apologize again, you have nothing to be sorry for," his words grow murky with tears, ones that I feel against my forehead when his lips sponge a kiss there.
"I would if you'd let me," a weak joke passes my lips and a hint of his chuckle sounds. Holding his eye contact had felt so difficult for so long, but now, I want nothing more than to keep it. "I can't believe I'd forgotten about your meetings, but I'm really glad to hear you've been keeping up with it. Thank you . . But still, I'm so sorry for forgetting about you, and your . . "
"My alcoholism. You can say it, Becks, it's okay. It's not going to upset me . . It's true, I'm an alcoholic. I probably always will be, but hopefully it stays that way, in the past."
Nodding doesn't feel like enough but words escape me, like they so often have recently. I'm saved by the bell, quite literally, when a ding! interrupts our conversation. Rolling onto his stomach, Harry almost looks like a different person with the majority of his tattoos now hidden.
"Oh, yeah," he murmurs, making the bed move when he turns around. "I have yoga tomorrow in the morning."
When his eyes meet mine something in them prods at me, and my feeling sparks, almost knowing what he'll say.
"Would you like to come with? My favorite instructor is back again. I haven't been in ages but think it'd be good to go back, and to get out of the house," Harry proposes, his phone locking with the electronic click! Dropping it onto the covers, he moves around until he's comfortable again, waiting for an answer. "You don't have to if you don't want to, it's just an idea, bug. I don't-."
"Yeah, that'd be nice, actually. It's um, still done with the lights off mostly, right?" I craft my question carefully, waiting for his response that soon confirms my wonderings.
"Yep, as far as I know. So, if it hits us we can do our crying and nobody will know any different."
"Good," is all I say when I thread my arms around his middle, searching for the beating of his heart with my ear.
With the stroking of his fingers through my hair came a relaxation like no other. It was one that I hadn't been able to find in so long.
"Thank you," his words coast over the top of my head, stirring me from my almost sleep. "For coming back to me, Becks."
"Thanks for picking me back up."
"Always," was the last word he spoke before I drifted off to sleep with his lips pressed to my head, humming a song.
*
Before I opened my eyes, I knew it. I could tell by the sun shining on my face. I hadn't felt that in months, the London winter having descended on us months prior. Gray skies kissed with snow flurries had replaced the robin blue skies I knew that I'd see, the warblers and chickadees singing around me already. Flicking my toes skywards, soft stalks of wheat grass and flower petals tickled my legs. It smelled of sunshine and dirt when I breathed in my surroundings, just like the smells of summer back in Madley.
Already, I knew where I was and that upon opening my eyes what I'd see. Tears already sat underneath my eyelids when I opened them, spilling over my waterline when I knew she'd be there, waiting for me.
I was in heaven, wasn't I?
The trees around me kissed the sky with their golden branches and ripe fruits dangling from their limbs. Not one ivory cloud dotted the sky, the blue of robin's eggs filling it instead. No, that wasn't what my thoughts focused on or fought for. With my eyes, I forgot about them and the warbling brook off in the distance. I searched for her, left and right, and up and down.
But I couldn't find her anywhere. Not behind the towering maples over my shoulder, tucked into the cluster of black eyed susans to my left, or even next to the fawn asleep a few paces away, its mother beside it. They came faster down my cheeks as breaths halted in my lungs, searching for my own baby.
Only could my chest fill again with air when I turned back to face ahead, and by a miracle, there she was. The same olive dress hung down to her knees, and a smile bigger than the last time clung to her rose colored lips. His mouth. His nose too, and most beautiful of all, Harry's sage eyes sat in hers below shoulder length curls the same chestnut shade of his.
"Mummy!" she shouted in a voice dripping with honey, one that covered me all over when her arms came around me.
"Phoebe," I cried into her hair, the smell of Harry's vanilla and notes of citrus surrounding me. My hands shook as they raked through her hair soft as ribbons, and I held on. I never wanted to let go, because I knew that she was my baby. My Phoebe Anne.
Neither did she, even when she pulled away to look into my eyes with her glistening pair. His giggle escaped her lips as I made quick work of the tears painting her cheeks.
"I'm so sorry, Mummy."
My head couldn't shake faster and my heart couldn't keep up with how it grew at the sight of her. "You have nothing to be sorry about, Sweet Pea, it's nobody's fault."
"I didn't want to leave you and Daddy, Mummy," she confesses in a choked sob, bringing her dainty hand to hold my cheek. I smile back at her, unsure of how my lips could reach so high as I stare at the baby that I'd lost. "But I didn't have a choice."
"It's okay, Pea. I promise. Daddy and I know," my words are shaky, and so are my hands that card through her hair. Tan freckles dot her cheeks and nose, tickled by thick dark lashes donning her eyes. She's real. My Phoebs. "We love you so much, you'll always be our baby girl."
A nod replaces her words before she dives back into my arms again. Her cries sound like muffled squeaks against my front, and if I thought it were fake, her hands caught in the back of my dress confirm it. Her tepid tears soaking through the fabric. Her sunshine warmth against mine, just like his. Harry.
No sooner had I lifted my head and parted my lips, does a tree creaking in the distance catch my attention. Her head lifts too, the same color of her curls appearing from behind its trunk.
"Daddy!" she exclaims. I couldn't mistake it anywhere, the loud laugh that I hear from across the field. It's the one that has filled my dreams and made all of them come true. Peering down at her, her lips are pointed skywards again as she beams at me. "It's Daddy, Mummy! We're together again. A family."
I've blinked and he's only a step away, dimples set deep into his cheeks. Once more, his sunshine is dancing across my face as he looks at me.
"I always knew she'd be beautiful, just like her Mum," Harry remarks
fondly, eyes falling and I follow them. Instead of a young girl wrapped in my arms, a pink baby is cradled in them. The very one I'd found crying in that hospital crib, waiting for me. "Our Phoebe, baby Pea."
Something like a happy hum fills my lips as he takes the last step and wraps an arm around me, the both of us.
"My girls," Harry coos, sponging a kiss to my temple before bending down to press a whispery kiss to our daughter's forehead. It wrinkles at the touch, but she relaxes and continues to stare up at us. Again, his sage greens sit in her eyes as the dimple in her left cheek twinkles when her lips give a smile.
I lean into him, feeling his nose pressed against my temple as she coos, her beautiful face growing hazy in front of my teary eyes.
"It's okay, Becks, we don't have to be broken anymore. She's okay, she'll always be our baby, our daughter. We won't forget her, she knows that, and she won't forget us either. They'll take care of her for us until we come back," he murmurs, lifting my head with his words to find familiar figures walking out of a cluster of oak trees from our left.
"Grandpa Holte," I whisper in amazement, catching the smile on his wrinkled face.
"And mine too," Harry adds when we see his grandfather appear from behind a birch tree. The wind whipping through the trees and the singing of the birds quiets and so does my heart when I see who appears at my grandfather's side.
"Grandma Ann," I hardly hear it myself, the words that I speak caught between tears. The smile framing them grows at the sight of a black goldendoodle bounding towards us, Harry's dog Lola who passed away not long after we'd met.
"They'll take care of her for us," Harry repeats. I see it in his eyes when I reluctantly look away from our family walking towards us. He nods and a corner of his mouth lifts again. "She'll watch over us, Becks, just like they've all been doing. She's our guardian angel, our little Phoebs."
I nod to his words, closing my eyes when his forehead touches mine, resting there. Only do I open them again to look down at the curious baby who remains quiet, reaching a hand over to smooth back her ebony colored hair. His lips graze my forehead once more and I bury my head into his neck, cradling her tiny head.
"It's okay, Mummy," I hear, her honey sweet voice saying in my head. "I'm okay, and you and Daddy will be too. I want you both to be happy, because it's okay to be . . It's okay."
The twinkling of the alarm clock steals me away, and I'm suddenly staring at the ceiling. Soft light peeks in through the curtains, dancing across the walls and duvet cover. Turning my head, I feel the coolness of the pillow graze my cheek as I search for him. As if he knew what I was thinking, his messy head of curls turned towards me. A sleepy smile pulls at his lips, a tired twinkle in his eye.
"You wouldn't believe the dream I just had, Becks. I-It was about . . about the baby. Phoebs."
"Try me," I smile, already feeling the onset of tears as he smiles back at me, them not far off in his eyes either.
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