#one of the hardest resignations I’ve ever processed | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

luimagines · 3 years

Text

The Chain Confesses While Your Hurt/Upset Part 3

Masterlist

Part 1 Part 2

The third and final part of this instalment will include Sky, Twilight and Hyrule!

You know the drill, content under the cut!

Sky

Sky was on watch again and there was still some time before the sun was supposed to rise.

Strangely, he felt more awake than he knew he usually would.

It was unnerving and Sky didn’t know what to do with change or what it meant.

He sighed and let the sounds of the terrain cascade over him. The gentle whispers from the breeze shook the leaves and there was subtle calls from the wildlife through the night.

It was calming.

Sky couldn’t figure out why he was so tense.

He took another breath and look around his friends, all asleep and worn out from the day’s events. Even he could admit it was rather uneventful considering their circumstances, but he welcomed it.

As he glanced at each of his companions, he felt his gaze linger on you a little longer.

He knew he was smitten with you.

He knew that if you were to ask him- he’d give you his heart, soul, and everything in between. There was little he wouldn’t do for you and every time you so much as smiled at him, he would collapse into a warm puddle within himself.

But you weren’t smiling right now.

Actually the longer he stared, the more it looked like you were actually quite upset.

A nightmare?

Sky stood up and made his way over to you, trying his hardest to not step on the boys in the process.

It was only when he squatted by your side did you whimper and curl further into yourself.

Seeing as you weren’t awake just yet, it gave all the information Sky needed to make his decision.

He reached over and shook your shoulder violently and took a step back.

You jolted awake with a gasp and blinked your eyes a few times, taking in your surroundings. Sky waited for you to realize where you were before he reached forward again. “Hey. You ok?”

“Oh.” You took in a breath and sat up. “I... I think so.”

Sky sat down next to you and brushed your hair away from your shoulder and out of your eyes.

“Was it bad?” You ask him.

“You tell me.” Sky smiles a bit.

“I wasn’t thrashing around too much, was I?” You reiterate and look around the group. “I didn’t wake anyone up?”

“No, it was actually kind of hard to tell you were even having a nightmare.” Sky admits.

“Oh... ok, good, that’s probably the best case scenario.” You gulps and place your hand over your heart, taking long deep breaths to calm yourself down. “Thank goodness it was just a dream.”

“Was it bad?” Sky throws your question back at you.

You startle and look Sky in the eye, gripping your blankets with iron like strength. Sky takes a note.

“It...” You shake your head. “It could have been worst. It wasn’t even that scary. Just... disturbing...and sad. I’d rather not have those mental images again.”

“Anything I can do to help?”

“Um.... Can I join you?”

“Absolutely.” Sky stands up and gives you his hand. You take it without hesitation and let him lift you onto your feet. Silently, you follow him back to the watch log and take a sit next to him. You’re still a little shaken by what you’ve seen in your own mind and you don’t mind taking a moment to digest and process it.

Sky for his part is staring to feel a little silly. He wants to spend more time with you, yes, but now what? And how does he not make a fool of himself now that he’s actually spending time alone with you?

A part of him is starting to catastrophize, thinking of all the ways he can do something stupid and completely ruin his reputation. For all he knows he’s going to trip (even if he’s sitting right now) and fall right into the fire. You’d laugh at him- never take him seriously again and then he’d really never have a chance with you.

He knows it’s illogical and it’s actually not the worst thing that can happen- but his nerves at getting to him and it’s making him question everything.

“Sky, can I ask you something?” You say after a tense moment of silence.

“Sure.” Sky’s voice cracks. He coughs a little to clear his throat and tries again. “Yeah, anything. Go ahead.”

“Why do I make you so nervous?” You say.

Suddenly Sky feels like he’s been punched in the heart. For all the wrong reasons.

Your voice is quiet and resigned... your sad and you don’t look at him. “Do I scare you or something? Is there something about me that you don’t trust? Did I do something wrong?”

“No, no, no, not at all.” Sky rushes to quell your fear, even if he’s starting to panic.

“Then what?” You sigh and pull your knees up. “Did I make you upset? I know you don’t like confrontation but I don’t know why you’ve been getting worse... If it was something I did, you can tell me, I’m grown, I can take it, what did I do wrong?”

“You did nothing wrong.”

“Well, I’ve had to have done something.” You snap. “You always try to end the conversation early and leave. You don’t like spending time with me, and you almost never answer my questions with a full sentence. You can never look me in the eye and have to wonder what on earth goes through your head if you don’t even want to stand next to me. Sometimes I think you’re just nice to me because you’re a good person but I don’t think you like me very much.”

Sky gulps heavily and begins weighing his options.

“I think you know that I like you.” You mutter.

Wait. WHAT?

“Is that what the problem is?” Your voice jumps a little on the last word and it sounds like you’re going to cry. “Was I too obvious? Did I make you uncomfortable? God, I’m sorry. I can pull back. I’m pretty sure you have a girlfriend anyway.. right? That Zelda? I mean, your Zelda? You’re together, aren’t you? I’m so stupid. Of course you’re together, what on earth was I thinking?”

“We’re not.” Sky jumps in his seat and twists his body to face you head on. “You’re wrong. You’re so wrong. I don’t have a girlfriend.”

Sky reaches over and grabs your shoulders, twisting you around as well so that you’d look at him.

You look away regardless and scoff. “You’re a catch. I doubt that you’re single.”

“I.. Am very flattered but you’re still wrong.” Sky laughs a little incredulously. He can’t believe this. Is this really happening? “Believe it or not I am very single.”

“Oh.” You sniff and reach up to pinch your eyes together, trying to subtly wipe away the tears neither of you have mentioned. “I’m sorry I’m a mess. I can leave you alone if you want.”

“That’s the last thing I want.” Sky blurts and belatedly realizes that he said that out loud.

“Then what? What is it? Work with me Link, because I’m not a mind reader.” You sit a little taller and finally look at him. “What do I have to do so that you’re comfortable around me? I don’t like the feeling of there being some....kind of mine field that I’m left dancing around. I really don’t want to see it blow up on either of us.”

“There’s nothing you can do.” Sky gulps. “It has nothing to do with you. I’m the problem.”

“That’s always the answer isn’t it.” You scoff again and unfurl yourself, turning away from him. “The ‘it’s not you, it’s me’ scenario.”

“It’s because... I-” Sky bites his lip and cups your cheek experimentally, putting just enough pressure to guide your face back to him but letting you fight him if you so desired.

You don’t and you let face be held by him for a moment.

“I love you.” Sky says to you, trying to hold eye contact and will the truth into your head. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now. I’m sorry I’ve been such a mess. I never wanted you to feel unwanted or give off the impression that it was anything less.”

You stare at him, eyes growing comically wide.

Sky gulps at the lack of verbal reaction and tries to laugh to lighten the mood. It doesn’t work but he tries. “I uh- haha- didn’t do a very good job at hiding it, I guess.”

“Oh my god, I’ve read all the signs backwards.” You whisper.

Sky snorts and leans into your direction. “You can say that, yeah.”

“I’m so stupid.”

“You are not stupid.” He growls. “Stop calling yourself that. I’ll fight you over it.”

“And don’t want that, do I?”

“No. No you do not.”

“Ok.” You break into a grin and laugh after a second, running your hands through your hair. “Are you serious? You like me? Me? The most boring person here?”

“We’re going to have a have a long talk about this and why you can’t keep putting yourself down.” Sky frowns. “You are not stupid and you are not boring. You are intelligent and thoughtful and kind and amazing and like no one I’ve ever met. I bet I could search for a million years and I’ll never come across someone quite like you.”

“You’re going to make me cry.”

“I’ll be here to dry your tears. It’s ok.” Sky grins and places both of his palms against your cheeks.

“I love you.” You blurt and place your hand over his, turning into it to hide your blushing face behind them.

“And I love you.” Sky leans in some more and places a kiss against your forehead.

“Can I stay up with you a little more?”

“Please.”

Twilight

The postman ran into the group, almost bowling them over with an urgent letter held high. He asks if there’s any one in your group with your name and Twilight sees the despair collide onto your face.

You raise your hand and slowly take the letter away from him. You thank him with a tense and fake smile out of politeness and watch as he leaves.

You’re scared to open the letter and Twilight belatedly remembers the trouble you’ve mentioned that’s been brewing during your absence.

Twilight frowns as he watches you read the letter, each sentence apparently worse than the last.

He sees you shut down and put your walls up from the rest of the group.

Your whole demeanor changes and you don’t even finish reading the letter. The contents upset you so much that you fold it in half again and shove it in your pocket.

“Let’s go.”

Wind bite his lip. “Are you o-”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You snap and head off in the direction they were going in before they paused for you to get your mail. Your steps are fast and determined, light and flighty, like you’re seconds from running or breaking out in a sprint but don’t want to make a scene.

The group exchanges multiple glances and hesitantly follow you, no one saying a word about what happened or what they think the letter said.

Twilight can guess though.

A while ago a similar letter arrived for you that also held bad news. It threw you into a funk for a few days and it took all of their combined efforts to distract you and help you feel better. It had seemed that there was some trouble back home that you could do nothing about.

He figures that this letter was sent to tell you it got worse.

With a sigh he marches on and waits.

Twilight waits until nightfall.

The others have taken the subconscious decision to leave you alone and wait until you’re a little more sorted out. The younger ones seem to be under the impression that you’re angry- and maybe you are- and they don’t want to risk having your wrath pointed in their direction.

But Twilight has seen enough to know your look.

Time knows it.

Warrior knows it too

And maybe if he studies for long enough, he would see Wild figure out the look as well.

You’re ready to rain absolute hell fire but you can’t.

It upsets you and he tempted to think your fury is more out of sadness than any actual rage.

When it’s his turn to take watch and he’s sure that Four has fallen asleep again, he makes his way over to you and studies you for a moment.

He places a hand on your shoulder and shakes you lightly. “I know you’re not actually asleep.”

“Buzz off Twi.”

“Want to walk it off?” He offers. “I still have to check the perimeter. Some company would be nice.”

You sigh and let your arm fall off of your face to look in the eye. you stare at him for a moment and Twilight tries to ignore the budding bullets of sweat that begin to down his back. “...Sure.”

He smiles a bit, for your sake, because it hurts him to see you so upset still. Twilight extends his arm out for you to take and you slip your hands into his. He lifts you up with practiced ease and together to begin to walk out of the camp and around what they’ve set up as their perimeter.

Usually Twilight would take his wolf form and do the job this way but that probably would have tipped your hand since you weren’t asleep to begin with.

“Let me guess.” You start once you’re far enough away. “You want to ask me what the letter was about. Get me to spill my heart out and tell you all my secrets and help me feel better.”

“I’d want to help you feel better regardless if you told what was in the letter or not. You don’t have to tell me anything.” Twilight admits with a slight blush on his face. “But movement always helps me think. Or if you want to think about something else for a little bit instead of the letter, we could just talk about other stuff too... Whatever you need... I want you to know that I’m here for you.”

You take a long breath from your nose and let it slowly out your mouth. “I know... I know that Link. I’m sorry.”

He’s never heard you say his name before.

Twilight doesn’t know if he hates it or not.

I mean, he’d gladly hear you say his name, don’t get me wrong...

But in that tone? With that level of... resignation? Despair?

You sound like you’re about to cry.

“It’s just...” You start and stop in the middle of the trail. You press the heel of your palm harshly into your eyes- maybe you really are about to cry. “My grandma is dying.”

Oh.

“She dying, Link and I’m not there. I thought she was just sick and it would only be a matter of time until she was back on her feet but she’s not getting any better. And to make stupid matters worse....You see... between me and my grandma, we take care of Zelda, she’s my cousin, and my little brother. My dad works and sends us money but he’s never home and my mom’s not around anymore and I don’t know what to do.”

Twilight places a hand on your shoulder, rubbing experimental circles on your back for a second. When you don’t push him away he slides into your personal space and hugs you, squeezing you tightly until you let go of the stress that’s no doubt building inside of you.

You hug him back just as hard and it surprises him for a moment. “I couldn’t even finish that stupid letter. It said that... We can’t... My dad can’t come home yet and god, Twi, they’re just kids. They can’t be left alone. Link is five and Zelda is seven. There’s no one who’s going to take care of them. They’re going to take them away. They’re going to take my little brother away.”

Twilight bites his lip and can feel himself understanding the situation a little more. Kinda. Maybe. Ok no. Not really. He wants to say that someone else from your hometown can pitch in and help. That they should have been helping from the get go. It’s how it works in Ordon and it sounds like the others would be in similar boats if this was their family but from what he’s gathered your Hyrule is very different.

He doesn’t know how things work in your Hyrule and he doesn’t know who this ‘they’ is but he can guess that’s it someone (or some people) with more power than you do, especially since you’re not home right now.

He can hear it in your tone.

“Is there anything I can do to help?” He asks instead. He doubts it but god! How he hates to see you in pain!

“Not unless we somehow end up in my world and we bring them with us.” You wince and hide your face in his neck. “They’re just kids Link. I... I don’t think I’m even old enough to fight for them. They’re going to say I’m too young and that I don’t have a job... even if it’s my dad who’s been paying for all of us...I hate their stupid politics and political junction and they just want to rip away what they don’t have.”

“Who’s taking care of them right now?” Twilight cradles your head with his hand, keeping his arm tightly wrapped around your waist. “Who’s taking care of your grandma?”

“The neighbors, I think.” You sniff. “But it’s already putting a strain on them. They’re not going to hold out much longer. I won’t even be able to say goodbye to my grandma. God, this is such a mess.”

“I’m sure we’ll get the chance to fix this- there’s no way this would just happen. We’d help you. We’d all pitch in. If it does happen that we need to take them, we will. We’ll find a safe space for them. Maybe Time will lend the Ranch, I know they’d be welcome in my village and Wild’s too, maybe. You’re not alone in this, ok?”

“Would you really do that?” You tilt your head up. He nods and you nearly tear up again. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Twilight gulps and grips your tight once again. I love you, he thinks, would I even need a reason to help you?

Your grip tightens on him in return and Twilight takes a moment to try and calm his heart. “We should try to contact your dad and see if there’s any way for him to do anything-”

“Oh my god he’s going to kill me.”

“Why?”

“...”

“... He may or may not know that I’m here.”

Twilight tenses and nearly groans. “Do I even want to know why?”

“In my defense, I told my grandma. My dad... doesn’t really care about me anyway. He doesn’t really care for my brother anyway. Zelda is his favorite. It’s why she’s with us. But I am supposed to be there to help grandma... not out here... saving the world.”

Twilight sighs and shakes his head fondly. “We’ll figure something out. I promise.”

He’d take care of your family in a heartbeat if you’d let him. Twilight takes a breath. He loves you so much- if could fight all your problems away he would.

“I believe you.”

“Yeah,” Twilight lets you go and begins to guide you back through the forest trail. “We should get going, the perimeter isn’t going to check itself.”

“What? Link wait.” You grab his bicep and pull yourself closer again. “Do you mean it?”

“Of course I do.” He smiles. “We’d all help. I know it. You don’t have to worry too much about it.”

“No I... Yes, that. Thank you but that wasn’t what I was talking about.” You shake your head and wait or him to answer, trying to will into his head what it was that you were referencing.

Twilight thinks for a moment and tilts his head. “About the ranch or my village? Malon might have her hands full if she’s willing to watch them for us but there’s plenty for them to do there. And my village has a soft spot for foundlings anyway. I’m sure they’d be overjoyed to have young children playing around again. Wild’s house in Hateno has kids their age too, so it’s another good place for them, and they’d already have the house open for them.”

“No, no, not that either.” You gulp. “A bit... a bit after that...”

“About contacting your dad?”

“No- not...” You blush deeply and begin to nervously shuffle on your feet.

It’s weird because Twilight can’t think of anything that he said that would have that reaction.

“You said you loved me.” You say in a small voice.

Twilight then pales to hard that he’s not sure how he manages to stay on his feet. He’s almost certain he can feel the moment where his soul leaves his body.

“That you’d take care of my family, that you’d fight my problems...” You continue without knowledge of the bomb you’ve just dropped. “Do you mean it? Or am I looking too much into it? Because I’ve always thought you might have had a thing for me and but I didn’t want to be the one to read the situation wrong but if you’re saying out loud-”

“I wasn’t supposed to say that out loud.”

Twilight voice does not crack when he says this.

“Oh... um..” You bite your lip. “Is it-? Am I wrong then? Did you not say that? I thought- Well, I wanted... I do like you, so I had hoped.... But if you’re not-”

“No, I do! I am! I-! URRGGHH-!” Twilight cuts himself off and ruffles his hair furiously with both of his hands. “This isn’t how I wanted you to find out. This is probably to lamest way you could have found out.”

He hides his face in his hands and doesn’t look up when he hears you quietly giggle. “Do you mean it though?”

“Yes.” He doesn’t look up.

He hears you approach him and refuses to meet you in the eye. He doesn’t look at you even when you gently take his hands and pull them away from his face. Even when you caress his cheek and steer him to the side. His eyes do however nearly bulge out of his head when he feels your lips on his cheek.

“I love you too then.” You smile.

“I didn’t want to lose my cool.”

“Can’t lose what you never had.” You snort and move his hair away from his forehead, admiring the blush on his cheeks and ears. “I’ll go back to camp. You finish checking up on the perimeter.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah... I should be asleep anyway.”

“Ok... Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight Link and thank you. I feel better now.”

“I’m glad.”

Hyrule

“I bet you ten rupees that you can’t make that jump.”

“I say twenty that I can.”

“Oh yeah? Prove it then.”

Hyrule smirks and takes a few steps back, letting his gaze drift just beyond the chasm and toward his target. “I’m about to be twenty rupees richer.”

“Just don’t injure yourself.” You cross your arms. “I don’t have the patience to deal with Legend’s smothering when he finds out I challenged you.”

“He’d be smothering me, not you.” He snorts.

“Yeah, but you’ll be fine.” You deadpan. “It’s not even that deep. Besides he’ll blame me for it no matter how badly you get hurt.”

“I’ll try to land safely then.”

“Not a single bruise!”

“For your sake.”

“Thank you.” You put your weight onto one foot, shifting your hip outward to watch as Hyrule takes a running start. “Don’t die.”

“I love your vote of confidence.” Hyrule snorts and leaps at the last second off of the ledge.

He jumps higher than you would have imagined him to be capable of and it stuns you completely. Hyrule for his part, lands on the other side, unharmed and on both of his feet.

He turns around with a large grin on his face and places his hands on his hips as he looks you in the eye. There’s the slight smell of magic in the air but you don’t question or notice it. “Your turn.”

Your jaw drops. “I am not doing that.”

“Come on. It’s not so bad.” He laughs and smirks at your disbelief. “I’ll call off the bet if you can make it. You know what, instead, let’s double it.”

“I can’t make that.” You screech. “You’re crazy!”

Hyrule snorts. “You’re scared~!”

“I’m not scared!”

“Scaredy cat! Scaredy cat!”

“Fine! I’ll do it!” You pout and take the few steps to the side where he took his running start. You take a breath and try to set up the same process that he did.

With your running start, you leap a little later than Hyrule did, because there’s no way you can jump as high as he did, and you can see how this is going to end.

You’re not going to make it.

Hyrule sees it too and tries to make a mad dash to the ledge with his hand out to grab you.

Your fingertips brush against each other and Hyrule jumps at the last second to grasp your hand...

He misses.

You fall.

“NOO!” Hyrule’s voice rips through his throat and he falls right onto his chest by the ledge in some desperate attempt to catch you but it’s no use. He sees you crash into the wall, a sickening crack coming from your body and you fall down. Your knees bend as your feet make purchase on the dirt but inevitably slip and it only curls you into a ball, rolling you backwards until you eventually hit the bottom of the relatively shallow ravine.

And by shallow, I mean it’s more or less a twenty foot drop.

Survivable?

Absolutely.

Will you come out unharmed?

Well...

“I’m so dead.” Hyrule mutters to himself and gets to his feet. He dashes along the edge, trying to find a point where he can jump down safety and get back to you. It takes a total of five minute for him to find a quasi decent spot. It’s a half baked idea and he knows it but he jumped down the lesser distance and runs back in the direction he came.

You’re getting up slowly by the time he reaches you and he forces himself to go a little faster.

“I think I figured you out, you cheater.” You groan when you look up and see him. “You used your magic to make that jump.”

“Uhh...”

“What on earth made you think that I was going to do the same?”

“I over shot it? So you should have been fine?” Hyrule chuckles nervously and reaches over to brush your hair out of your face.

Blood is absolutely pouring down your face and it looks as if you have a broken nose.

“Link, I’m going to punch you.” You groan and place your hands by your nose.

“No, wait, hold on-” Hyrule gulps and places his hands on your wrists, trying to stop you.

In one fluid motion to pop your nose back onto place and sigh of relief.

Hyrule’s eye widen and he’s both horrified and impressed.

“What?” You snap.

“I’m in love with you.”

“What?” You say again.

Hyrule’s hands fly over his mouth. “Nothing. I said nothing! You’re hearing things. Let me just- umm...”

You send his healing spell over in your direction and lets it go permeate through the space.

“Link.”

He looks away from you.

“What is wrong with you?” You furrow your eyebrows. “Don’t say something like that unless you mean it.”

Hyrule gulps and bite his lip. Because he means it.

“We don’t have to talk about this.” You sigh and let him heal you.

Hyrule doesn’t respond and focuses on letting the spell fall against your nose and your back.

“Rulie?” You blink and finally look at his face. “How much trouble do you think we’ll be in if we get caught? Legend will probably have both of our heads if he finds out about it.”

A moment of silence passes.

“I don’t think Time will do much about it and Twilight doesn’t have the pull he thinks he has in the group.” You continue when he doesn’t reply, nervously shifting in your spot as Hyrule works. “Warrior will probably keep on a tighter leash than usual though.”

He doesn’t say anything, letting the spell fall. Hyrule feels a little drained after using as much magic has he already has but he can’t help but feeling a little miffed.

“Link, please say something.”

“I meant it.” He’s barely able to hold back the scowl because he knows he’s not that impressive and you’re so amazing that there’s not way in this green earth that you’re not already taken. So of course, you’d just assume that he’s being fresh and brush him off.

“What?”

“I meant it.” He looks your way. “I wasn’t joking.”

“Uhhh..”

Hyrule huffs a bit when he see that you don’t understand him yet. “I’ve been in love with you for a while now.”

You still and he can see you gulp slightly. “Oh.”

Hyrule feels like a child and he leans away from you, falling onto his back. “Anything still hurt?”

“Um... No...” You shift your weight again and grip your wrist. “I feel a lot better now. Thank you.”

“Good.” Hyrule stands and reach out for you to take his hand. “We should head back to the others.”

“Hyrule.”

“They’re going to start getting worried about us.”

“Link.”

“What?”

“I’m sorry.” You bite your lip and and stop him from going any further. “Are you serious? Did you mean it mean it? Because I didn’t want to discredit-”

He sighs and grips your hand a little tighter and brings it up to his lips. Hyrule places a delicate feather like kiss on your knuckles and lowers it just enough to study your hand in his. “It’s fine. I doubt your partner would appreciate it anyway if I were to just-”

“I don’t have a partner...” You gulp and grip his tighter in reply. “I’m not in a relationship. I didn’t... I’m not trying to-”

“Forget it.” He smiles a little falsely. “Like you said, we don’t need to talk about it.”

“Oh.... Oh Link...” You frown and step into his personal space, placing both of your hand on his shoulders.

“I don’t need your pity. It’s fine.” He rolls his eyes and tries to pull away from you.

“No, please, not like this...” You stop him and hug him tightly. “I love you too! I panicked when you said that! Don’t- don’t shut me out! Please.”

“What happened to not saying that unless you mean it?”

“Liiinnkk...” You groan and place your face into the crook his neck.

Hyrule doesn’t deny how nice it feels to have you hold him. Slowly, he raises his arms to wrap them around you as well. You’re warm and your heart beat is strong even with your layers and armor. He takes a breath and is assaulted by your smell. It strangely reminds him of vanilla and cinnamon with freshly churned dirt and morning dew thrown into the mix. An odd combination but he finds that it’s pleasant.

“God, I’m sorry. Is that what you want to hear? I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. Please forgive me. I panicked. I swear I panicked.” You nuzzle into him and he won’t deny the way his heart flutters as you do so.

“Calm down. It’s ok.”

“It really isn’t!”

“It is because I say so.” Hyrule snorts and rests his head against yours.

“Do you really think the others are looking for us?”

“Maybe. But I don’t think we actually have to go back just yet.”

“Then stay here? With me?”

“Yes.” Hyrule sighs of contentment and begins to sway with you back and forth. “I’d love nothing more.”

#linked universe #linked universe x reader #linkeduniverse #sass was not a thing i tried for in this one #but I noticed I focused a lot more on the injured aspect of the asks and decided that this would be mainly upset #actually just checked #and this it's pretty much half and half #sweet!

279 notes · View notes

smxmuffinpeddling · 3 years

Text

The first time Benja officially met the infamous Princess Namaari (infamous through his daughter’s repeated grumblings about said princess of Fang), she placed a blade in front of him with her head bowed. Her face is somber and her strong shoulders weighed down by an invisible force.

Chief Benja had sensed this sort of presence before from old warriors or generals that have overseen countless battles. More recently he has caught this presence on his daughter in moments where she thinks he isn’t observing the woman she has become. It made him sad to see these haunting expressions on people so young. The princess of Fang appeared to be burdening herself with more ghosts than most.

“And what would you have me do with this, Princess Namaari,” Benja asked in his most patient tone as he eyed the blade placed on the ground before him. He had a sneaking suspicion based on rumors and Raya’s own stilted recaps of what transpired before and after he was turned to stone. There was a lot to process, but Benja could only make judgments based on what he could see before him.

“As the Chief of Heart, you have the power to punish war criminals,” Namaari responded, eyes still on the ground. Chief Benja sighed from deep within his bones and set aside the tea he brought to share when the princess requested a private meeting with him. She continued, “The talks of peace would go much smoother if the people of Heart received justice for the wrongdoings committed against them by Fang. It would mean the most coming from you.”

“And you think the best way to do this is to offer yourself up for persecution?”

“Healing can't begin if the other tribes feel Fang hasn't paid the price," Namaari reasoned, almost casually. As if she wasn’t offering her young life to him on a platter. "If it helps the people of Fang… of Kumandra,” Namaari corrected herself, resigned to the fate she envisioned for herself. “Then yes.”

“Does Raya know you are here?” Benja inquired out of curiosity. Namaari’s gaze snapped to his for the first time. They held gazes for a moment, guilt creeping up in Namaari’s expression as she looked away.

“No, she doesn’t.”

Chief Benja hummed to himself, stroking his beard in thought. "What you say is not without merit." He busied his hands by setting out the cups for tea. It would be a waste to let it grow cold after all. "I admit, I have been approached by some of my people regarding this very topic.”

Namaari nodded, unsurprised. “Would you prefer to do it publicly then?” Her shoulders seemed to slump even more at the thought.

Benja couldn’t help chuckling morbidly as he poured tea into two cups. “Now you’re just laying it on thick.”

Her brows knit together and her mouth twisted, ignoring the cup he offered her. “I’m serious about this, Chief Benja.”

He responded with a look conveying that he was taking her gravely seriously. “Drink. I made it myself.”

The princess seemed to notice the offering for the first time and accepted it hesitantly. He politely took a sip first and she followed. He allowed his Fang guest to breathe for a moment. “What do you think?”

“I think I should pay for the hurt I’ve caused,” Namaari was quick to answer.

“About the tea, Princess Namaari,” he corrected with a hint of a smile on his lips.

“Oh.” If the princess deflated anymore in front of him, she’ll blow off on the breeze before their meeting concluded. “It’s excellent.”

The smile on his face grew warmer. “Glad to hear it.” They continued to sip until he poured them a second cup.

“Raya told me that you came together to save Kumandra.”

“I did not make it easy for her,” Namaari said, the tea turning bitter on her tongue.

"You were only a child."

"Not the second time," Namaari confessed with a pained expression. The tightness of her knuckles threatened to shatter the cup in her grasp.

He reached for the sword and she straightened at the gesture. The sword matched the one on her other hip. Beautifully balanced, and a lot lighter than what he was accustomed to, he held it respectfully in both of his palms.

“To hate and blame is the easy path. The hardest thing is change and forgiveness.” Namaari’s eyes widened in surprise when he handed the sword back to her. She took it instinctively, a frown pulling the corners of her mouth down.

“Princess Namaari, the punishment you seek will not be carried out by me.”

“I don’t understand,” Namaari protested.

“You know what I see when I look at you?” Benja’s gentle expression crinkled his eyes. The look on her face made it clear she expected insults and then some. “Someone who understands better than most the consequences of their actions. Of how important it is to our people that we come together or we’d fall apart. When I look at you I see hope.”

“Hope?” Namaari tilted her head as if the concept eluded her.

“Hope that the future of Kumandra will be safe in the hands of someone who changed, and grew. Kumandra was a dream of mine, one I realized might have been a naive one that night,” he admitted. “The real work comes now, and we need examples like you to inspire hope in others and lead.”

Namaari opened her mouth to say something but she merely looked down into her reflection on the sword instead, eyes growing wetter. He could see her cheek jump from her gritting teeth and he reached out to lightly grasp her shoulder.

“That is what dragons do,” he made sure to look into her eyes reassuringly. “They inspire light in humans to be better, and in turn, that light spreads to others. I will not extinguish the light growing in you, Princess.”

At that moment, the Fang warrior simply looked like a little girl again, barely holding in her overwhelming emotions. “But how will I atone for my mistakes?” Namaari whispered, lost.

Benja squeezed her burdened shoulder before leaning back, finding his tea grew cold. “My daughter has already passed judgment on you, and I trust her.” His pleasant smile turned into a sly grin. “And something tells me she would not be too happy if she found out you came to me for your punishment.”

At that, Princess Namaari finally made a sound of amusement and her gaze grew a little warmer at the thought. “I suspect not.” The sword was fastened back to her hip and her shoulders did not look as heavy as they did when she approached him. Hands forming a circle, she bowed towards the Chief of Heart and muttered a shy thanks.

The second time Chief Benja met Princess Namaari, her hand rested on her blade’s hilt as they stared each other down.

“I think you have some explaining to do, Princess Namaari.” His grin was sharp, particularly enjoying this. She did not look as amused as he did.

“I’m sorry, Chief Benja,” Namaari’s grip grew white-knuckled but her resolve flashed in her eyes. “But... I’m in love with your daughter,” she said it like it was her greatest sin to date. A sin she looked ready to die for.

Earlier that day as Benja was taking a stroll through Heart’s gardens in a rare moment to himself, he stumbled across quite the sight. He spotted his daughter in an intimate embrace with the princess of Fang. He was surprised but managed to not make a noise, slowly backing up to allow them privacy. However, before he could slip away, he locked eyes with Namaari over Raya’s shoulder. He might’ve laughed at the size her eyes grew in panic, but he was already gone. He felt glad that his daughter was letting others into her heart, even as he tried to push the image from his mind.

The princess evidently did not forget, charging up towards his sanctum with determined steps.

“I know you’ll want my head for daring to overstep my welcome in your home. But I’m serious about her and I don’t care if you doubt my intentions. I won’t ever back down again when it comes to her!” she declared fiercely.

Benja finally broke character when a laugh escaped him and he gave into it. Namaari was visibly confused that Raya’s father wasn’t trying to strangle her right now as he doubled over laughing. It took a few seconds for him to calm down, facing the young woman while wiping a tear from his eye.

“Have you told Raya that you love her?” he asked with genuine curiosity. Namaari’s demeanor quickly changed, from ready for a fight, to flushed and stammering.

“I- no. Not yet.”

A few stray chuckles were still escaping him as he moved towards his weapons chest. “You should. And all that other stuff you just said.”

“You’re… not angry with me?” the other woman sounded surprised. He perused through his collection in an unhurried fashion.

“I’ve told you before that I trust my daughter’s judgment.” He selected one of his new swords made for him after his daughter inherited his last one. “Though there was always one thing that bothered me.”

Namaari brought her guard up again at those words, taking a fighting stance once Benja made a few test swings with his new sword. “What would that be?”

“Raya once told me you were the most skilled fighter she’s ever faced.” His shoulders popped as he rolled them, loosening his muscles. “It’s been a while since I’ve had a proper challenge besides my daughter, and I’d like to remind her who the fiercest warrior in her life is,” he said with a confident grin.

Namaari visibly gulped but she squared up, drawing her dual-wielded swords to face him. And he felt proud of the fire he saw in her, glad that his daughter chose someone who was not only willing to die for her but to live for her.

The next time Chief Benja and Princess Namaari met in secret, thankfully there were no blades involved. They were sipping tea together in companionable silence, though the Heart Chief could tell the woman was nervous about something.

It wasn’t often she was nervous anymore. Over the years she’s grown to be a capable and charismatic leader, accepting the love that was given to her and giving love in return. Intricate Visayan tattoos spread over her arms and shoulders highlighting the assured way she carried her burdens. Her hair, once asymmetrical, was evenly shorn on both sides of her head, with the hair on top braided down the center. (Raya had told him in her smuggest tone that Namaari mimicked women she admired, even while Raya stared at her beloved from across the room with her dopiest grin. They were so in love Benja had to laugh at their expense.)

“Jade for your thoughts,” he nudged before she lost herself in her thoughts.

She put her cup down and cleared her throat. “Chief Benja,” she started before he waved at her formalness.

“That's Benja to you,” he reminded her not for the first time.

“Chief Benja,” she stubbornly asserted with a smirk. He smirked back. “You’ve always been kind to me. More than I deserved at times, and I have nothing but respect for you.” She took a deep breath, maintaining eye contact with him. “It would be the greatest honor of my life if you extended another kindness and allowed me your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

Benja regarded her, feeling misty-eyed and bursting with sentiments. His little girls have grown up so fast.

Namaari continued, growing nervous at his silence once more. “In return, I can offer fifty serlot kittens, copies of Fang’s most sacred dragon scrolls, and as much gold and metal every cart in Fang can hold, as well as-” Benja cut her off with a deep laugh and a hand on her shoulder.

“Does Raya know you’re here?” he inquired with a raised brow. This time, she matched his smile.

“She does, actually,” Namaari tilted her head knowingly towards the door, where they promptly heard a muted curse and feet hurriedly walking away at being caught. They shared a chuckle at Raya’s antics.

“Namaari,” Benja’s voice dripped with pride. “There is no one else in Kumandra I trust more with my daughter’s heart.” Namaari’s eyes widened at his words. Even after all these years of fighting for approval, she was still surprised when it was imparted to her. “You have my blessing.” He raised his glass in a toast to them. “I’m only surprised it took you so long to ask!”

Namaari was as relieved and light as he’s ever seen her, glowing from the inside out. “For a long time, I didn’t feel worthy of her. I still don’t sometimes, but…” She placed a hand over her heart. “She still wants me, and I think that’s finally enough.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” Benja approved warmly. He rubbed his beard suddenly as a thought occurred to him. “Oh, because I suspect you’ve been dying to hear me say this,” Benja’s expression went from overjoyed to deadly serious in the span of a breath. “If you hurt my daughter I’ll kill you.”

Namaari was surprised for a moment before she smiled gratefully. “Thank you. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” They clinked their cups together in agreement.

#i actually did some writing today #raya and the last dragon #ratld #rayaari #namaari #i forget what my writing tag is lol #fic rec

264 notes · View notes

mieohmy · 4 years

Text

𝗌𝗐𝖾𝖾𝗍 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗌𝗈𝗎𝗋 | 𝗃𝖾𝗈𝗇 𝗐𝗈𝗇𝗐𝗈𝗈

PAIRING: CEO boss! jeon wonwoo x secretary! reader

GENRE: fluff, angst, humor, office au

WC: 5k (whoops got carried away- i mean its wonwoo)

NOTES: mentions of death, depression

SUMMARY: you loved being a secretary, the work and stress included. but your ‘stone cold’ boss was really testing your limits in more ways than one. alternatively, who knew mighty CEO jeon wonwoo was such a softie?

update: part two can be found here !

update 2: final part → here

❋

“Yes, sir. Also, the opening ceremony is today at 7pm. Would you like me to set up your chauffeur?” The man nods. “Yes, make sure to finish the layout for tomorrow. And the catalog by Thursday. That’s all, you’re dismissed.” You bow politely before turning and exiting his office.

You take two steps forward before displaying a scowl and muttering, “never get a break. not even a thank you. just wait, jeon wonwoo, one day i-“ “Y/n!” A voice snaps you out of your trance, spotting Seungkwan walking your way.

Greeting him, you ask, “What’s up?” “We’re getting food tonight. Team dinner at 7. Can you make it?” he says. You sigh before replying apologetically, “Sorry.... boss wants me to finish something up for tomorrow.”

Seungkwan taps his feet in disapproval. “The CEO is still giving you more work? When will that man ever let you have a break?” You grit your teeth, attempting to smile. Seungkwan stares at the CEO's office.

“Y/n, you work the hardest out of all of us, and you have to deal with him every day. If there’s anyone who deserves a rest, it’s you. Our team’s planning on going to the beach on the weekend since we have Friday off. You should join us. It’ll be really fun!“

Contemplating for a moment, you’re about to accept before you suddenly remember what Friday is, eyes widening. Turning to Seungkwan, you smile sadly. “I really-like you don’t even know-really want to go, but I have something really important on Friday. I’m so sorry.” He nods, reassuring you it’s fine. “Well, you can join us on Saturday then!”

You bow, biting your lip as you continue on. You totally forgot what day Friday was.

❋

The rest of your shift was rough. Wonwoo, AKA your horrible boss, didn’t seem to want to give you a break. The past few weeks had been very tightly packed with the upcoming debut, and although you understood it was very important, sometimes it felt like your boss didn’t know you were human too.

Waking up at 5 am, driving to his place and setting up, and then getting to work was exhausting. Not to mention the late nights working on assignments. It all came with being a secretary, but recently, you didn’t know if you could keep going. Maybe it had something to do with your boss’s attitude as well.

Jeon Wonwoo, CEO of one of the largest writing and printing companies. Exactly how you expect. Handsome, cold, quiet. You’re pretty sure he’s rejected more than a hundred women who attempted to ask him out. What did he even do for fun? Lame word searches?

When you first started working as his secretary, you had at least one breakdown a day. Everything you did was wrong, Wonwoo’s ‘redo it again’, echoing in your mind. He never cared about your feelings, just your work. You needed the job to help your family since it had good pay, and your siblings were focused on school. So it was up to you to provide for your family that you weren’t even close with.

You and your coworkers loved to complain about wonwoo’s cold attitude and the workload he gave out. Sure he was handsome, but it didn’t matter to you since his attitude was such a shutdown. You blamed him for not having a social life or a boyfriend, but of course, he didn’t care.

That just made you want to work even harder. You stayed up countless nights practicing, studying to be perfect. Until Wonwoo tolerated you. Everyone knew you as Jeon Wonwoo’s longest secretary. It wasn’t easy work, but it made you feel proud, and you were able to push through working for him.

At least before recently. Wonwoo was extremely busy with the preparations, and so were you. You understood, he was stressed, but was taking it out on you okay? You really contemplated quitting, but this time of the year was extremely important, so you would have to wait until after the new debut passed. I mean, you were kind enough to start the resignation after finishing the event, unlike another person you knew.

Wonwoo calls you into his office late that night, the floor almost empty. You walk in, carrying the same tea you always brought at the now perfected temperature. Setting it down, you bow before asking, “you called for me, Mr. Jeon?” You can tell he’s frustrated by his ruffled hair and wrinkled collar. Your fingers itch, wanting to fix it.

“Finish the chart for tomorrow. I want you to adjust my schedule since father’s coming by. Cancel everything before 10.” You tense, feeling the frustration course through you. “But sir, I already got all the-“ “I don’t care, change it. You can go now.” You tightly bow and leave, fuming in anger.

❋

You’re not surprised you only got three hours of sleep. It was a regular thing these days. Groaning, you get ready as usual like every day, the schedule drilled into your brain. You grab a shirt, frowning as you remember the one time Mr. Jeon called your fashion taste revolting and ordered you to a complete wardrobe change.

It was finally Friday, the day you were anticipating the whole week. Also the one day you got off from work early and seeing Mr. Jeon’s face. You couldn’t wait until 5 when you were done and could prepare for later. The whole week was awful, you’re pretty sure you looked like a raccoon with the amount of sleep you got.

You’re typing furiously at your desk when Seokmin comes by. His footsteps alert you. “Oh, hey Seokmin. What’s up?” He grins. “Did Seungkwan tell you about what we’re doing later today?” You attempt to smile. “Yeah, I’m sorry I can’t make it. I’m busy later. Can’t wait to get off.” He claps, rubbing his hands together. “It’s alright. Don’t work too hard.”

You smile, winking. “Don’t worry. And try not to have too much fun without me!” The buzzing on your desk interrupts you, causing you to groan. “What does he want now?”

Walking in, you find Wonwoo signing documents. He doesn’t even look up as he says, “I need you to complete the finalizing documents right now.” You pause, processing the information. “Wait, but those will take me at least four hours. My shift ends in one.”

He finally looks up, face devoid of any emotion. “Well, that’s your job. You’re expected to do it.” You feel your heart speed up, tightening your hands into fists. You respond shakily, “I’m sorry sir, but there’s something really important I have to do tonight. I can get Mr. Lee to finish it. Can’t you let me go this once?”

“But why? You’re supposed to do what I ask?” His voice sounds annoyed, bored even. You scoff, feeling your eyes burn. “Those last couple of weeks I’ve been doing everything you asked, even more. Don’t you think I deserve a break?”

“You signed up to be my secretary. What kind of breaks do you expect? Things are very tense with the new debut now, so don’t expect me to take pity and let you go just because you did what I said,” Wonwoo retorts.

That was it.

You hated yourself. You hated yourself for snapping. But at the same time, you didn’t.

You slam your papers on the table, shaking. “I work basically 24/7, every day, running errands for you and doing everything you tell me.” Your voice cracks, and you feel hot tears run down your face.

“And you don’t even have the respect to treat me like a human being? I wake up immediately thinking about what you’re going to make me do for the rest of the day.” A sob escapes you.

Wiping your tears angrily, you continue to stare at him with wide, furious eyes. “I go to sleep thinking about what I have to do for you the next day. But you don’t even thank me. Not once. No appreciation when I try to impress you and go above and beyond. And then you won’t even let me have one break? I don’t even get vacations or holidays off!”

You sniffle, body shaking, as you let the words sink in. “I signed up to be a secretary, not disrespected.” And with that, you walk out with tears pouring down your face, grabbing as much of your stuff as you can and leaving, ignoring the shocked whispers and startled questions.

❋

Once you get home, you slap yourself. What did you just do? What did you just say to your boss? Oh god, ex-boss now. You’re dead. Officially. You feel numb like you just watched a confusing movie and were trying to process everything.

You want to bury yourself in the ground. Or become a rock. That’d be way nicer than being yourself right now.

But you have to continue on. You don’t even care if you’re going out wearing sweats and a hoodie. He wouldn’t care. After buying everything, you drive to the spot. You pass blurs, barely paying attention as you blankly stare at the road.

Once you get out, you feel the drops, glancing up. You didn’t realize it was raining while you were driving. You let the water pour over you, making your way to the familiar stone.

Stopping in front, you sink to your knees.

“Dad...I’m so sorry I’m late. Can you believe I basically threw a tantrum in front of my boss? Well, ex-boss?” Laughing weakly, you wipe the tears you didn’t notice had run down your face. “I don’t have a job anymore, that’s for sure.”

You look around, your whole body soaked now. Softly, you arrange the flowers neatly in front of his grave. “Are you still proud of me dad?” You smile weakly, adjusting yourself comfortably on the cold wet ground. “I’m so sorry... happy anniversary, still. Another year passed. How are you?”

❋

You spend days at home, never leaving your bed, only allowing yourself to mope about your life. Your phone is spammed with texts and calls. Probably from coworkers, you figured. You didn’t have enough energy to respond.

You sighed for the millionth time. Everyone had probably heard about your childish rant in wonwoo's office. How could you let yourself break like that? No one had contacted you and deemed you officially fired, but you knew it the moment you opened your mouth. Maybe finally going outside and getting snacks would cheer you up.

Cringing, you saw yourself in the mirror. Just like someone who got broken up with by their partner. I mean, it’s not like you had a job anymore or anyone to impress, so you just shrugged and went out for the first in a while.

Entering the store, you walk down an aisle, glancing at the options. You’re squatting, choosing between banana or strawberry when you spot movement in the corner of your vision. It’s just a man looking at the ice cream, but it’s what he’s wearing that catches your attention.

You raise an eyebrow. Who goes to a mart in a full suit and tie like that? Scoffing internally, you bite the inside of your cheek. Ha, he looks like- The man suddenly turns, and you can never mistake that face.

BEKDJRE WHAT IS MR. JEON DOING HERE?? You whip your head back, hoping, praying, that he doesn’t recognize you in your horrible clothes. Your heart pounding loudly, you stand up, deciding just to get the heck out of there before-

Oh ****. Why does he have to stand right next to you?

You internally freak out, don’t make eye contact I swear to god y/n if you do you’ll-

“What do you recommend? Melon or banana?” You recognize his deep voice and freeze. Is he talking to you? Maybe he doesn’t know who you are??

Facing away from him, you respond in a croaky, low voice. “U-uh banana?” You catch him nodding in the corner of your eye.

Time to escape. You turn, briskly walking away until a hand abruptly grabs your wrist, preventing you from leaving. Panicking, you don’t move, not wanting to expose your identity. What does this man want??

The hand on your wrist doesn’t loosen, instead, it tightens and spins you around until you’re face to face with him. Your now-former boss, Jeon Wonwoo.

Surprisingly, he doesn’t have an angry look on his face. Instead, he simply says, “Y/n, I know it’s you. It seemed like you when you walked in. And the fact that you chose banana instead of melon for me because you know I hate melon confirms it.”

You open your mouth before lamely responding, “Could’ve been a lucky guess?”

❋

You would’ve never expected yourself to be outside a grocery mart at 1 am with jeon wonwoo.

Awkwardly shuffling on your feet, you watched as wonwoo paid for your treats. He insisted on it for some reason, and you knew you couldn’t beat him when he looked at you with that face. Chills ran down your spine whenever you thought about it.

When he finishes, you walk side by side out the door, a silence between the two of you. You wait a couple seconds before you can’t take it anymore.

You quickly fall to your knees in front of him, head down as you plead, “Please forgive me, Mr. Jeon. I-I didn’t mean anything I said. I was just extremely stressed- I completely understand if you never want to see my face again, although I’m not sure why you confronted me today and bought stuff for me but it doesn’t matter anymore- It was completely rude of me, and I just hope you’ll accept my apology.” Finishing your ramble, you keep your head bowed and eyes squeezed shut as you await his response.

You almost don’t notice it, it was so gentle. Wonwoo’s hand slowly reaches forward and tilts your chin up, and you don’t realize your heart speeding up. He squats in front of you, his face seems surprisingly amused.

You would’ve never expected the words that came out of his mouth next, either.

“I’m sorry, y/n. I realized the workload I put on you, and it wasn’t wrong of you to burst out on me. I’m afraid I’m not good with words, but after you disappeared, I realized how much you do for the office. Truly, I appreciate your hard work. Hopefully, you can come back to work once you feel fit.”

You stare at him, processing the words that the CEO of one of the biggest printing companies just said.

You stay still, eyes still boring into his until you’re finally able to break out of it. You abruptly stand up, dusting yourself off. You breathe a sigh of relief, muttering, “thank you for not firing me.” You clap your hand over your mouth, surprised eyes moving to look at wonwoo.

You watch as wonwoo’s lips slowly turn up, letting out a quiet chuckle. You blink. Did he just laugh? Like fr? Oh my god, you have to tell Seungkwan. His voice interrupts you. “I should drive you back to your place, it’s getting late.”

Your eyes widen in shock. Shaking your head, you reply, “oh no, it’s fine. I’ll walk home. It’s not far.” He insists, and of course, you aren’t able to say no.

It’s an awkward drive as you direct your boss to your apartment. Once you arrive, you quickly thank him, and he smiles. What the-

“Well, I hope to see you soon at work, secretary y/n.”

You can only nod, dumbfounded. You had never seen him smile before, and it was kinda nice.

You numbly wave goodbye as he drives off, entering your apartment and crashing into bed.

❋

After two days, you’re back in action. The second the elevator doors open, a swarm of people rushed up to you. You stand there as people begin talking, asking questions. You feel like a celebrity being interviewed by paparazzi.

You take a step forward, pushing past everyone. It didn’t feel right to have to answer their questions. You settle at your office, politely asking people to stop asking. Eventually, the crowd leaves.

You’re unpacking the stuff you took home in a blaze of anger when you hear footsteps approach. Sighing, you turn around. “I’m sorry, I don’t- ..Dokyeom?”

“Y/n!!! What the frick happened? All we know is that you stormed out of the building and didn’t come back for a week!! And with our project, things were going crazy without you...”

Grimacing, you say, “I know, I know, I’m sorry. It’s stupid, but I’m back for real now. Promise. I’ll explain it all later, I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”

Dokyeom sighs, giving you one last ‘you better not forget’ before leaving you.

It takes hours, but you’re finally able to get wonwoo’s schedule up to date. You check the time. Shoot. Wonwoo usually expects tea at this time.

You quickly run over to the drink station, hoping no one comes up to you. You glance around, mostly everyone’s focused on their work and staring at their computer screens.

You’re pouring the hot water when a familiar voice calls your name. Turning, Wonwoo comes into view. You immediately jump, causing the hot water to splash onto your hand.

Letting out a hiss of pain, you drop the cup. The sound alerts the workers in the room, most beginning to notice your presence.

Wonwoo quickly walks over to you, gently taking your hands in his. “Are you alright?” You gape at him, and you’re pretty sure everyone else in the room is dumbfounded too. Whispers immediately break out.

You snatch your hands from him and quickly bow. “I’m fine, thank you, sir.” Forgotten tea, you dash to the bathroom. Huffing, you place your hands on the sink.

What happened to your boss and why do you kinda like it? The feeling of his warm hands over yours causes you to shiver. You punch the sink, grumbling.

“Ughh seriously, what’s wrong with this guy? I yell at him and suddenly he becomes this nice guy? And then in front of everyone too?”

❋

It doesn’t stop after that. For days, jeon wonwoo would somehow make his way to you and act all nice. Sometimes in front of others, and sometimes when it’s just you two in his office. You would always feel hot and nervous afterward randomly.

It began spreading around the office. What happened to CEO Jeon and why did he become so nice to you? You heard some of the rumors, ‘probably slept together’ ‘did they find out some juicy secret about him? ..’

It was annoying, but you tried to ignore it. You were able to explain everything to doykeom and seungkwan. They were the only ones who knew about the late-night grocery mart trip and wonwoo’s sudden kindness.

You wanted to confront him, really. And you tried, but he would just say it was because you were his secretary that worked so hard for so long.

You wanted it to stop. You wanted it to stop cause you liked this side of him, and you didn’t want to admit it.

❋

It all changed one day when you received a text at work. From a number that you didn’t recognize. At first.

After reading it, you immediately shot up from your desk. Wonwoo came from his office, walking over to you, but you hurriedly made an excuse and ran out, leaving him surprised.

Groaning, you noticed the rain. Perfect timing... You braced yourself and ran through the pouring rain. You had to get there, no matter what. You were soaked, gasping for air, once you reached the stone.

They left. You stood there, staring down at it.

It was just you and the rain.

Until it wasn’t, anymore. You look up. It’s a black... umbrella? Spinning around, you come face to face with a suit. An extremely familiar one.

“M-mr. jeon?” He’s holding the umbrella and staring at you, but it feels like he’s looking into your soul.

You blink, eyes flicking down to the wet ground. It’s silent until he speaks up. “Why did you suddenly come here? Y/n?”

You slowly turn back to look at the plaque. “This is where my dad is,” you softly say. There’s a pause before wonwoo responds, “I’m so sorry.”

You laugh, shaking your head. “You don’t have to be sorry. This is why I blew up last Friday. I was supposed to be here that day.” You feel wonwoo tense next to you.

Before he can say anything, you face him. “It still doesn’t excuse my behavior. But.. why did you follow me?” He fumbles a bit before replying, “it was raining.. it wouldn’t be safe for you to go alone.”

You laugh, a pleasant sound ringing in wonwoo’s ears before saying, “thank you. And, I came here because of my family. You might not have known this, but I got this job to help them. After my father died, my mother became depressed and my siblings couldn’t do anything. So I had to get a job to support them.”

You bitterly smile before continuing, “I’m not even close with them. I was too busy working, and my mother was too busy moping. My siblings are busy with school, and I never see them anymore. It’s gotten to the point where I just pay their bills and don’t even speak to them. Ha, they finally contacted me to say they were gonna visit him today, can you believe it? And I missed them. As usual.”

Wonwoo looks down at his feet. “I never knew that about you... You’ve been working for me for years, and I didn’t know that.”

You shift. “What about you?” He turns to you, surprised. “Me?” You nod, “your family?” Wonwoo shuffles closer to you, causing you to unconsciously swallow.

“Well, I’m not very close with my family either. It was all work, preparing me to take over the business. I mostly grew up alone... and I didn’t really have many close relationships. Uh- well, you can most likely tell. Everyone in the office probably can too.”

You glance at him. He’s going back into his shell. The one he would always go into when he was stressed, scared, alone. You hesitate. “That’s okay, you don’t have to be close to everyone. It doesn’t hurt to be a little kinder, though. Not to be rude, but a lot of people in the office are.... a bit scared of you? To be honest, we were all a bit shocked when you started caring more. I was surprised. Um- but i-in a good way.”

Wonwoo stares at you with wide eyes as you focus back on the stone. A comfortable silence fills the air between the two of you. Standing there, hearing the sound of the pouring drops.

As the rain falls harder, you feel as if you have too.

❋

There’s an understanding, a deeper one between you and wonwoo after that day. You feel like you know him, even if it’s only a little more.

The CEO suddenly turns into a completely different person. To others, he may still seem like a cold boss, but to you, wonwoo’s an endearing introvert who’s obsessed with cats.

You were shocked, to say the least when wonwoo comes by your desk and shoves a phone in your face. You flinch before opening your eyes and staring at the screen. “Mr. Jeon..... why are you showing me a picture of a cat?”

“It’s cute. Isn’t it?” Laughing, you cover your mouth to hide a smile. “Yes sir, it sure is.”

He continues to show more of himself, and you find yourself falling deeper. For someone who you never expected. He has such a cold exterior to people around you, but once it’s just you two, he turns into such a softie.

Seungkwan confronts you one day. “Y/n, you have to explain. What is happening between you and CEO jeon??” You shake your head in response, but you feel heat creep up your neck.

“Seungkwannn, I told you already. He just helped me out, and I guess, I understand him a bit better now. He’s not bad, seriously.”

He lets out a small tch! “A week ago you were complaining about his nasty personality, and now you’re saying he’s not bad?”

You whine, clinging to his side. “Ahh, seriously I said it was nothing. Why won’t you believe me??” Someone clears their throat.

You and seungkwan turn. It’s wonwoo who else would it be. Immediately, seungkwan bows. “Sir!!” Wonwoo stands there, face passive. “Secretary y/n, come to my office.”

Seungkwan shoots you a look, leaving you to shrug and follow the CEO.

He offers you a seat, and you sit on the plush couch, waiting.

He shifts in his seat awkwardly, and you raise an eyebrow. “Why did you call me in, Mr. Jeon?”

He coughs before muttering, “are you close with him? Mr. Boo?” “You mean seungkwan? Oh, he’s my friend, that’s all. Why do you want to know? Are you jealous?” you tease.

But wonwoo only scratches his head. You’re about to apologize for going too far with the joke, but you can’t even respond after what he says. “Well, of course, I am. Cause I’m interested in you.”

Your mouth drops open. “What did you just say?” He looks at you, a serious expression on his face. “I want to go out with you. Truly.”

Heart beating faster, you internally panic. He just asked you out? He’s interested in you? What is going on?

“So? What’s your answer?” You snap out of it, glancing back at your boss, nervously shaking his leg. I mean, you enjoyed his presence. But he was your boss, the supposed cold and scary Jeon Wonwoo.. and also the one who still managed to infiltrate your mind.

“Um, yes. I will go out with you.”

❋

You find out and learn more and more sides to him. They all cause your heart to flutter harder and harder. He’s no longer just your boss, he’s someone you can trust, confide in.

You begged wonwoo not to tell anyone. All the dates happening in secret. Wonwoo was upset, originally. He wanted to tell people, to show you were his, but you firmly insisted on keeping it quiet. If people in the office found out, you would never hear the end of it.

You walk into wonwoo’s office one morning, carrying the itinerary for the week. Once he sees you, his eyes light up. He walks over to you, grabbing the file and throwing it on the desk somewhere.

You stare at him with wide eyes as he strides over to you, wrapping his arms around your body. There’s a second of peace and content, but you interrupt him, tensing and saying, “wonwoo- someone might see us.”

Even as you continue to shift and glance around to check, he sighs and rests his head on top of yours. “Secretary, can’t you just relax for a second? We’ve been working so much, we need a break.”

Letting out a huff, you allow yourself to melt into his embrace. “Two more minutes,” you mumble. Wonwoo leans down, so his face is inches from yours, a small grin displayed. You smile back, knowing what he wants.

You lean in, placing your lips on his. His mouth moves hungrily on yours, causing you to make a small sound of surprise.

Then there’s suddenly a knock, and you hear the door open. “CEO Jeon?”

You fly under his desk, squeezing your eyes shut and praying whoever it was didn't see you.

You wait there, attempting to muffle your breathing and keep still. You recognize the voice, it’s Mr. Choi Seungcheol. Vice President of the company. Why did he have to come at the worst time?

You hear the distinct sounds of their conversation for what seems to be forever before Mr. Choi finally bids him goodbye. Your body slumps in relief, waiting to get out from under his desk until you hear seungcheol suddenly speak again.

“Also, why is secretary y/l/n under your desk? I see their feet sticking out.” You silently curse yourself. Slowly and very ungracefully, you maneuver your way from under the desk. Standing up, you quickly smooth your clothes and hair. “Oh, ha, Mr. Choi. I had no idea you here. Um- well, you see...”

You quickly look at Wonwoo and back to Mr. Choi. Stammering, you finally say, “Mr. Jeon thought he saw a coach roach and called me in. Must’ve just imagined it.” You nervously laugh as wonwoo sheepishly nods in agreement.

Finally, he leaves the two of you, and you sit on the couch, biting your lip as you examine wonwoo’s expression.

“Was the coach roach your best excuse?”

You cringe. “I’m sorry-! I couldn’t think of anything else. Do you think he saw?”

Wonwoo shrugs, sitting next to you. “Is it so bad for him to see?” he speaks quietly.

You face him, aghast. “No! It’s just, you know how it is... if everyone knew. They’d misunderstand, think I’m using you or something.”

Your body freezes as you turn to face him. “Wait- you don’t think I’m using you... right?”

Wonwoo quickly shakes his head. “No, I know you y/n. You would never do that. I’m just afraid. That you’ll leave me because I’m too quiet, or too busy with work or-..”

You smile at him softly.

“You know I love you?” He stares at you, shocked. You had never said it to each other before, but you truly meant it.

Reaching for his hand, you intertwine it with yours. “Did you know I thought about quitting my job before? When we were debuting the showcase. It was so stressful that I really was gonna leave.” You feel his hand grip yours tighter, so you continue.

“But you know I'll never leave you, right? I won’t ever leave you alone.” Nudging him, you add playfully, “that means you’re stuck with me forever.”

Wonwoo laughs- a short deep sound.

“I’m okay with that, cause I’m in love with you too.”

author note: i actually wanted to write more but got lazy... im conflicted if i should add to the story or leave it as it is :\\\\

#seventeen #jeon wonwoo #wonwoo #seventeen wonwoo #wonwoo x reader #jeon wonwoo x reader #wonwoo scenarios #wonwoo imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen scenarios #jeon wonwoo scenarios #jeon wonwoo imagines

398 notes · View notes

snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 67]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Got many things to do today, though I do have a meeting in a bit over an hours, so there will be a break.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

52142

“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

“I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

“Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

“That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

Slowly Thomas raised one hand and waved to the boy. He slunk back into the shadows at the acknowledgment. If Thomas peered hard enough, he could see a shadow stretch up towards the third-floor balcony in the darkness and disappear over the railing.

Interesting boy.

Thomas found himself smiling despite the oddity. They still had not found out much about Virgil. He would speak to Jeffers about many things apparently, but often could not be redirected to invasive topics and he was still a bit skittish around Helen. He hadn’t willingly existed in a room with Thomas. Thomas hoped that changed at some point. There was something about him that made Thomas like him.

Chapter 37

Virgil had not spent a lot of time out of Logan’s room. What little time he had spent outside of it was either with Patton and/or Logan or tucked away in secret corridors he found in the walls where no one would stumble upon him. Yet, here he was willingly in a, well, not public by any means place, but one that was still more exposed than he was used to being in. Somehow, he was managing to not care at all.

It was helped by the fact that both Logan and Patton had been in the room at the start, but they had gone off to go… somewhere. Food sounded like it might have been the reason.

He liked food, and usually he would have been all for going to get some, but between them promising to bring him back some and the fact that he was never going to move ever again, he’d decided to stay.

Princess Marisol seemed to be the only other rational being in the whole castle because she had also not moved since discovering the contents of this room. She was currently laying on his chest purring happily.

The fireplace was a wonderful invention. Now, Virgil had, of course, warmed up by a fire before when it was cold, but this was much different. There was a grate that blocked off the fire a bit keeping it from burning the person in front of it and there was a plush rug right by it, perfect for laying down on. Someone had known what they were doing when designing this room.

He didn’t even care that the king had access to this sitting room as well as Logan.

…

Okay, so he did care a little bit, but he was ignoring that. He was probably busy this time of day anyway, right?

…

He really didn’t want to run into him after being caught watching the castle workers set up the bigger fireplaces. Kings probably didn’t like people sneaking around watching things from the shadows even when they didn’t know that the person sneaking around was literally sent to kill them.

Princess Marisol must have had a sixth sense for his anxieties (or he’d just started breathing faster and disturbed her) because she stirred a bit.

#proofread stories #not writing

35 notes · View notes

solalunar-eclipse · 3 years

Text

SYCS - 1 Year Anniversary

Chapter title: Set In Stone

Word count: about 4000 words

Author’s Note: On July 26, 2020, I posted the first chapter of Scars You Can’t See. One year later, I’ve written five stories of varying lengths and am currently working on a sixth (wow)! My writing’s come a long way since then, and a lot of my improvement is thanks to everyone who encourages me to continue said writing, whether it’s through likes, reblogs, or comments. Thank you all so much for your support so far! :)

This is a rewrite of the very first chapter of SYCS, since the original could use a little fixing. Some important notes: I’ve edited a few parts of the story to be more in character, Chapter 2 starts in a different place after this updated version, and I’ve also fixed up chapter 13 because apparently I forgot to finish the motif I started?? Somehow??? At least I remembered eventually...

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the (revised) story!

Before, Shadow had always been able to just ignore what it meant to work for G.U.N.

He’d managed somehow to convince himself to brush aside the fact that the soldiers he worked with (had been coerced into working with) wore the same uniforms as those who killed Maria, his dear sister and first friend. To push away any idea that he couldn’t deal with serving the same organization that had once wanted him dead. (It was the only way to stay with his friends, of course he could deal.)

The same thing went for using guns during the Black Arms invasion- even though he’d had amnesia, he remembered enough that he’d needed to rely on adrenaline near constantly just to make it through those times. Despite this, he had still taken the better part of a month to recover afterwards.

His memories of that day were particularly fresh for a while.

Once the invasion had been successfully repelled, G.U.N. had hired him to work for them very rapidly, as a matter of fact. During the process, some of the people along the way strongly suggested that if the organization wasn’t able to keep an eye on him, then…well, then they’d be very displeased.

Shadow knew all too well that you did not want G.U.N. displeased with you.

The hybrid felt nothing but exhausted as these thoughts whirled through his head for the hundredth time. They’d only become a major problem recently, ever since the military organization had begun to require him to resume using guns on his missions. Every single time he touched one, the cold steel left his palms slick inside his gloves and made his head swim with flashes of memories too often repressed. Still, he had to use them- he’d be taken off missions entirely if he refused, and Shadow would never leave Rouge and Omega in the lurch like that.

However, his mental health had been growing ever worse these past few weeks as a result. He thought (hoped) he’d done a good job of hiding it from Rouge and Omega, but Shadow had been sparring with Sonic noticeably less. The hybrid had struggled with the idea of inflicting more violence on others in his spare time, and the hero had asked him about it several times, trying to figure out the reason for his sudden change in behavior.

Shadow shook his head, pushing his doubts and worries away just as he always had before. He couldn’t allow himself to become distracted by his thoughts- they might spill over into missions if he wasn’t careful. Forcing himself to focus on his schedule for the day and nothing else, he walked out of his room to take on whatever might come his way.

…

He was skating through the halls of an old, decrepit building (currently being used as a hideout by Eggman) on a mission. A robot stepped into his path.

Shadow hadn’t used his weapon yet on this assignment. He remembered the thinly veiled threat after his first refusal- we may have to remove you from missions if you cannot handle this responsibility- and felt a cold sweat break out on the back of his neck.

He shut his eyes, whipped out the firearm, and pulled the trigger. Flinching at the sound out of instinct, he refused to open his eyes until the gun was away, when he didn’t have to see it anymore. The robot lay on the ground, a smoking hole in its center. He tried to ignore the lingering sensation of the G.U.N. logo embossed on the handgrip in his palm.

Shadow felt the floor tilt for a moment under him before he regained his bearings.

He refused to look at the machine as he rushed by.

…

The exhausted hedgehog curled up in bed at night, unable to keep himself from hearing gunshots over and over and over. He fought against the memories of that day, refused to let them spill over into his thoughts.

Yet despite his best efforts, he knew he’d dream of it again tonight. He knew that he’d wake up screaming with her name in his mouth and the sight of blood still burned into his eyes. It had happened every night since he’d received the weapon.

Shadow swallowed down his fearful apprehension over what would come next. He forced himself to breathe deeply, to close his eyes, even though he wished to do the exact opposite. Dreams were not real. He could not let them hold power over him.

But still, he shivered as he tried to fall asleep.

…

He and Omega were standing in the center of a courtyard, broken badnik scrap lying all around them. This mission was supposed to be easy, just a simple in-and-out. Take out the bots, grab the intel, and go.

Rouge had asked them to cover for her as she searched for information in the abandoned computers alone. Shadow hadn’t liked the idea of leaving her alone but agreed grudgingly anyway.

He looked down at the firearm he held in his hands and tried his hardest not to cringe.

Flashes of memories threatened to surface again, of escape pods and gunshots and too much blood-

“Shadow.”

He jumped, not expecting Omega’s loud voice so suddenly.

“Yes, what is it?”

“You have been distracted for nearly ten minutes. Are you unwell?”

Shadow sighed, projecting a relaxed attitude. “Everything is fine. I was simply thinking.”

“About what?” Omega asked curiously.

“Nothing much.”

Silence descended upon the two again for a minute.

“Shadow.” the E-series robot repeated.

“What.” he snapped, sounding more irritated than he’d intended.

“Tell me what you were thinking about. You looked distressed.”

“I’m fine, alright?” Shadow insisted. “Just- forget it, Omega.”

Omega stepped closer. “Past experience has informed me that you tend to hide important thoughts from others. Therefore, I will assume that this is essential knowledge until proven otherwise.”

“It’s not important.”

The robot placed his hand on Shadow’s shoulder. The latter wouldn’t admit it, but the weight was comforting, in a way.

“This is not adequate proof. Do you not trust me, Shadow?”

He sighed. “I do trust you, Omega. You know that.”

“Then talk.” Omega’s processors whirred for a moment, before adding, “Please.”

The hybrid’s shoulders slumped- he knew his friend wouldn’t stop until he told the truth. “I was thinking, how weird is it, that I work for the same organization that ki-...caused my sister’s-” He paused on the word, fighting not to trip over his sentences. “-death and...attempted to cause mine. Among other things. And how now...I must use weapons like the ones that took her from me...to harm others.” He sighed, nearly worn out just from the effort of discussing that event’s existence.

Omega jerked away from him, startling Shadow. “G.U.N. is the organization that killed your sister?” he asked, sounding- if it were possible- shocked.

“And the one that locked me away in cryostasis for 50 years, yes.” Shadow said, feigning calm.

Omega made a staticky noise that sounded like a sharp exhale. “Shadow. Why did nobody tell me this before? And why in the name of Chaos do you still work here?”

Shadow looked away, hiding the bitterness in his expression. “Multiple reasons. One, the organization has somewhat cleaned up its act, as far as I can tell. Two, it wants to keep me under surveillance, since I am still ‘potentially dangerous’ to them...and consequences would be severe if I did not obey.”

He tapped his heel on the ground. “Also, it was one of the main avenues for us to become heroes. Unlike Sonic and his friends, we don’t have the luxury of fighting someone who wants us to know where they are. And you know we didn’t exactly have the best record with law enforcement beforehand.”

“Still.” Omega replied. “I am highly opposed to the concept of fighting in the name of such an organization. Have they at least apologized to you? Or admitted their wrongdoing?”

Shadow frowned, thinking. “No, actually, they never did.”

Why did he have to bring this up? There’s no point in talking about what’s past. Let’s just get over it and move on.

Omega looked down, his eyes dimming slightly. “Processing.”

He was still processing by the time Rouge arrived, and remained mostly silent for their exit, post-mission briefing and the entire ride home.

Once the three had gotten inside, Rouge faced the E-series robot. “Alright, what’s up with you? You’re never quiet, but you’ve barely said a word since I got back.”

“I am considering an important decision.” Omega said.

“Oh? And what might that be?” she asked, folding her arms.

“My potential resignation from the government organization known as G.U.N..”

“Wait, what?” Rouge gasped.

Shadow shouted out from the other room simultaneously. “Omega, what are you thinking?!”

“Current logic process is as follows: G.U.N. hurt one of the few decent people on this planet and my friend fifty years ago by murdering Maria Robotnik and many others aboard the ARK, as well as imprisoning him for said fifty years against his will. It has not apologized or shown remorse for those actions. Therefore, this organization clearly has no respect for Shadow, and therefore I refuse to aid them one moment longer.”

Shadow appeared at the robot’s side, placing a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Omega, but you don’t need to do that for me. I’m alright with this.”

(He was lying, of course.)

“Hold on a minute here, Omega’s got a point.” Rouge said pensively. “I started working here so I wouldn’t go to jail for stealing, but I’ve served my ‘sentence’ ages ago. Honestly, I kind of hate it there anyway? Like, nobody even respects us and it’s got way too much bureaucracy and too many outdated ideas. It’d be much better if it was just the three of us doing our own thing away from them, wouldn’t it?”

“Besides, hon, you’ve got to start standing up against those guys. I know you were going through a major existential crisis a while back when this all started, and that was the main thing you had to deal with. But now that you’ve started to figure everything out, it’s time to stop letting people treat you this way! We don’t have to give G.U.N. anything. They never helped you at all.”

“Agreed.” Omega said. “This organization does not deserve you- or any of us. They have wronged you, and though forgiveness is supposedly a ‘virtue’, it is likely so only when it is deserved.”

Shadow stared at the two of them. “That was...actually kind of philosophical for a minute. And convincing.” He huffed, frustrated, his hands curling into fists. “I just…how would I even go about dealing with my grievances with an entire military organization? I would need proof...and I don’t want to damage my standing with the government. G.U.N. can easily claim that I have gone rogue.”

He swallowed, trying to ignore the various insecurities at the corners of his mind. “I’m just...should I really be digging all of this up again? I’ve finally started to get over it…”

“Okay, so first of all, hon, you’d better not let G.U.N. walk all over you just because they can make up fake blackmail.” the bat insisted. “And second, you’re clearly not over it. Shadow...I can hear you when you wake up from your nightmares, you know. You deserve some kind of closure to help you, and if G.U.N. won’t give it to you, then you have to take it.

“Also, here’s another thing- how much worse would you feel if G.U.N. hurt someone else, and we had never said anything to warn anyone?”

Shadow stiffened, feeling ill again. The very idea was abhorrent. That another person’s Maria could be lost due to his silence...“That...that would be unimaginable….” he breathed.

“Exactly.” Rouge replied. “So, consider it.”

Shadow frowned. “I...I’ll keep it in mind. But we should at least see if they’ll do something first before we try to attack them. We might be able to convince them to make amends, after all. I mean, if we fight, we’ll be completely out of a job, and I don’t know if the funds from Club Rouge will be enough to keep us afloat- if we succeed. It’s too risky, at least for now.”

“If that’s what you want to do, then we can definitely stick with that to start.” the bat said. “I don’t know if I could’ve taken any of their apologies if it were me, but it’s not my life, it’s yours. So I’ll be right with you no matter what you decide to do, okay?”

“As will I.” Omega added, placing a hand on Shadow’s shoulder.

“Thank you, Rouge. Thanks, Omega.” the hybrid said, finally allowing relief to show on his face as he looked at his friends.

He couldn’t help but feel that with them by his side, everything would be alright.

…

They talked through most of the night about how to bring it up, what they would say, and even where they would sit to keep Shadow feeling as safe as he could. The hybrid had final veto power over anything the other two suggested, and he tried to keep the wording of the speech he’d give as controlled and polite as possible.

However, he tried not to bring up the “maybe G.U.N. still thinks I’m a weapon to be stored and used, not a person” topic during his proposal. Those insecurities could wait for another day.

They fell asleep late at night, all three in the same room- Shadow made a blanket nest on the floor, Omega plugged himself into the wall, and Rouge was on her bed.

Pleasantly enough, Shadow didn’t have any nightmares that night.

…

“You want us to do what?”

The head of the public relations department stood behind his desk, cutting a slightly dominating figure in front of the team in his room. Omega could easily detect an increased heart rate in Shadow. He was not betraying any nervousness externally, however, and the robot was impressed by his friend’s willpower.

The PR head sat down, and he gestured for Team Dark to do the same. However, since there were only two chairs in the room (as they had known), Omega remained standing. Among other things, it would allow him to more easily defend his friends should the talk go awry.

“I’m afraid we just can’t do that kind of thing...Shadow.” He said the last word like it was distasteful, like it didn’t belong in his mouth. (Or, perhaps, like he wanted to add a “Project” or “Experiment” to the front of it, but didn’t for fear of a missile to the face delivered by Omega.)

“Why not?” The hybrid asked. “Sir,” he forced himself to add politely. “Don’t you agree that it was wrong? That G.U.N.’s soldiers shouldn’t have done...what they did?”

“I am incredibly saddened that Miss Robotnik’s death occurred in the search for you, and that the head of G.U.N. at the time considered you unworthy of any basic living rights.” the PR leader said, sounding more than anything like he was reading a script off a teleprompter. “However, I am not going to make a public statement digging up something that happened fifty years ago.”

Rouge leaned forward in her chair furiously. “So you’re just going to pretend it never happened? What about the trauma Shadow experienced? What about the fact that this kind of thing could happen again?”

The leader looked at her coldly. “I can assure you that this is an isolated incident, and that such an occurrence has not happened before or since.”

“But you can't just-! Can’t we speak with the commander?” Rouge gasped, outraged.

“I can, and I will. And you know very well that the commander is taking a well-deserved vacation, and we are not to disturb him for any reason except an emergency. Now then. Did you have anything else you needed?” he said smugly.

Omega was so, so close to just arming the missile launcher anyway.

Shadow looked up at him carefully, clearly going over the words in his head. “Sir. May I respectfully ask why G.U.N. considered it necessary to arm me? I can apply lethal force if necessary in other manners.”

The PR head frowned. “Close quarters are not necessarily a safe space for you, Shadow. We need you alive, and if that means you’re farther back, then so be it.”

“But- me? Destroying with impunity? In such a cold, distant manner? That’s not what G.U.N. wants to see from me, I thought. And with my experiences, I really don’t think-”

The human folded his arms. “Don’t worry about thinking, just worry about completing your missions on time. And what’s past is past, right? Now then, I expect no more complaints from you three. This meeting is concluded.”

Shadow stood up stiffly. “Yes, sir.”

Rouge froze. “Wait, Shadow, you’re not just going to-”

“We’re leaving, Rouge. Now.” Shadow said firmly, but the two other members of Team Dark could hear the unsteadiness in his voice. Omega remained silent, but internally was playing a very nice simulation in which he repeatedly punched the head of the PR department.

Once they had exited the office and walked through the facility for a while, Shadow leaned heavily against a wall. “He’s not sorry at all.” he muttered. The robot didn’t need his sensors to tell that he was experiencing far too many negative feelings at once. It wasn’t healthy for organics to deal with all that all the time…

“Agreed.” Omega said. “I would not be surprised in the least if he was lying throughout all of it.”

Rouge sighed, before pulling an unresisting Shadow into a hug. “Honey, I’m...” She paused for a second. “I’m sorry you had to deal with that. You shouldn’t have to cope with people like that, ever.”

Shadow closed his eyes quietly and stood like that for a long time. Eventually, though, he spoke up. “.....I know what we have to do. I...I know we need to fight, like you said last night. I don’t feel ready, but just…it has to happen.”

Omega looked down at them both. “You two go out to the car. I will go and get your sister’s files myself while you take a few minutes, Shadow. I am bulletproof and the most likely to make it out unscathed, and if I need help I can call.”

Rouge rolled her shoulders briefly, her wings flexing. “Alright. I’ll be ready to get out of here the second you get in. Sound good?”

“Alright.” Omega agreed. “Let’s go.”

The robot marched down the halls, on a mission. He stopped first to gather everything from their office- or at least all of their personal items. They might need them later, after all. He placed them into his empty chest compartment (he hadn’t refilled on weaponry in a while) and moved on.

The lower levels of the G.U.N. facility were darker and less well-maintained. This was most likely on purpose, to keep people from wanting to go down there. Omega, however, did not fear the dark. He had a flashlight, and a hulking five-foot robot was usually enough to scare most creatures.

Thankfully, the guards stationed throughout these levels knew him, and simply stepped aside to let Omega pass. Quite a few of them were honestly nervous down there themselves, and barely even noticed him.

He noticed a small door marked ‘Records Room- Classified’ and knew he was in the right place. The door did not give him access, but that was alright. Rouge had hacked the system a while back and given herself the highest clearance possible...and now Omega had her spare card.

Once he was inside, he scanned the cabinets methodically until he found the file marked ‘Maria Robotnik’. Inside were papers detailing her death and her life. Everything one could have wanted to know about her was inside.

The red stamp on the front reading ‘Terminated’ was pretty ominous, and Omega briefly wondered if he would be able to remove it. He considered the possibility that Shadow would not be quite so pained upon seeing it if the stamp were gone.

It was unlikely, and so he moved on.

Omega exited the room, hoping that the guards in the security monitor room were slacking off. They often were, so he calculated at least a 70% chance of exiting the facility without incident. He placed the file inside his compartment and continued on.

Being a robot meant that he could not act nervous. Therefore, nobody questioned him as he walked through the halls and outside, where he saw Rouge talking to Shadow inside their black-and-red car.

The hybrid appeared to be rather panicked about the whole plan, so as Omega slid into the backseat, he placed his hand on his friend’s head for a brief moment. “Everything is going to be alright, Shadow. I promise you that.”

Shadow sighed and slumped back against the seat. “Let’s get out of here before someone notices what we did.”

Rouge pulled out of the parking lot with a screech of the tires and didn’t let the speedometer dip below fifty until they got home.

“Right.” she said, once they were all inside. “We’ll probably have G.U.N. beating down our door by tomorrow morning, so let’s make sure they don’t catch us still here by then. Omega, refill your weapons and pack us some clothes and stuff. Shadow, you just try and chill. I’m going to look over this file.”

As Rouge flipped through the pages, Shadow decided that he needed to see these for himself and walked over to stand behind her. Before long, though, he recoiled in shock upon seeing that when G.U.N. discussed Maria’s death, they justified it. Made it seem like Shadow was the villain. A monster. A weapon.

“Shadow?” the bat asked.

“...yes?”

“You know we can’t use this by itself, right? We need more proof. Like, video proof.” she said, sounding resigned.

“I know.” he said quietly, disappointed that so little had changed despite the fact that half a century and some new management had taken place.

Omega cursed out G.U.N. from the other room in response and came over to them, his eyes in their ‘angry’ shape. “We need to stop them now. This revolting organization does not deserve to spend another minute active anywhere on the planet.”

“Let’s get them, then.” Rouge hissed, clearly furious as well.

Shadow felt terribly apprehensive, but despite that, he agreed as well. “Then they won’t be able to hurt anyone else in the future.” he said, sounding more determined than he had in a while.

“You ready, guys?” the bat asked, holding out her hand in the midst of their little group.

Omega allowed his giant metal hand to hover over hers. “Always.”

Rouge looked at the hybrid. “You sure you’re up for this, hon?”

“Not entirely…” Shadow admitted, but took a deep breath and held out his hand too, allowing Rouge to guide his hand to Omega’s, just like she had so long ago. “...but I need to do it, and so I will.”

“Then we’ll expose them, Shadow.” she said confidently. “And we’ve totally got this, because we’re doing it together.”

And as they all clasped hands for a moment, before breaking off to head to the garage, Shadow felt like they really had a chance to succeed.

#scars you can't see #sol's fanfiction #shadow the hedgehog #rouge the bat #e 123 omega #i've actually had this saved for a while! i thought the anniversary would be a good time to post it :)#i went back and reread chapter 1 and was like '.......i could write this so much better now'#so here we are!#i especially didn't like how omega forced shadow's hand- i much prefer this one where it's a team agreement #shadow's still a little hesitant because of how it turned out the last time he went up against g.u.n.#but he knows he needs to do this for himself (and for others too)#i did still try and keep the general plot structure the same though- just improved it (hopefully)#either way i'm looking forward to another year of writing! it's been really cool so far :D #thanks as always for reading

18 notes · View notes

galaxyofmyown · 4 years

Note

Hi!! I'm not sure if you'll take it (and that's 100% okay!!) but as a request can you write hotch x younger, shy reader? I'm just all about that age gap with him (yes, that's my daddy issues speaking up). Have a nice day!! ❤

hi! this was so fun to write. i was aiming for like, idk, 500 words? and then oops! i wrote almost 2000. i accidentally made it specifically for a female reader, so let me know if that doesn’t work for you and i can tweak it. also, sorry if the end feels rushed, but i’m about to fall asleep and i wanted to wrap this one up so i could write the other requests tomorrow. let me know what you think! xx

aaron hotchner x reader - surprise me

“Hey, (Y/N). Drinks? Everyone’s going.” You hear Derek ask. You smile before spinning around in your desk chair.

“God, yes. I was hoping you’d ask, I really need to blow off some steam.” You reply, getting up and grabbing your bag, having already packed up for the night. The team had just gotten back from Middle-of-Nowhere, Kansas, and to say the case was intellectually challenging was an understatement. It felt a lot like piecing together a never-ending puzzle, but you had saved the lives of countless innocent people. There was no better feeling.

Drinking is a close second, however, which is why you were impatiently pacing near the elevator as the rest of your team gathered their things. As soon as everyone arrived, you filed into the elevator.

“You look excited, (Y/N).” Emily said with a smile, knocking her shoulder into yours. You laugh.

“Why wouldn’t I be? Any excuse to spend more time with my favorite group of people!” You say, your voice taking on a teasing tone as you poke a pink-polished finger into Reid’s side. Reid yelps and jumps away, blushing slightly. The rest of the team laughs, Morgan reaching to ruffle his hair. You smile at the sight. They were truly a second family to you. The elevator doors were nearly closed when a large hand reached in and caused the doors to jerk and reopen.

And there he was.

Your boss, Aaron Hotchner. You tensed despite yourself as he slid in right next to you. Rossi clapped him on the shoulder.

“Nice of you to join us.” He said. Hotch nodded, professional as ever. Everyone looked as surprised as you felt.

“You’re coming out with us, sir? You never come.” Garcia said, not unkindly. You all understood his commitment to his son, so you couldn’t really blame him for always being too busy for drinks. Unlike everyone else, your surprise was less pleasant and more panicked. Even though you’d been on the team for well over a year, you still found it extremely difficult to talk to Hotch outside of a case.

It might have something to do with you being head over heels for the older man.

“Jack is with his aunt for the weekend, so JJ convinced me to tag along. I hope that’s alright with everyone.” He said, looking directly at you. You nod and force a tight smile, missing the way your discomfort makes his brows furrow.

There goes your plan to let loose. You can’t help but monitor every word, every movement you make when you’re around Hotch. You found him attractive the moment you met him, the epitome of tall, dark, and handsome. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that you realized you actually had feelings for the man. You loved how caring and loyal he was, and you appreciated every smile and laugh he allowed himself. He was also a natural leader, solid in a way no other man in your life had been. You understood, however, that Hotch would never settle for someone as young and inexperienced as you. Aside from the odd celebrity crush, you had never felt so attracted to an older man. It left you floundered, constantly at a loss for words. He probably thought you were an immature girl who couldn’t control her feelings at 28.

You rode with Emily to the bar, who couldn’t stop laughing at your nerves. She was your best friend, so she knew all about your unfortunate crush. Hopefully she was the only one.

“He’s really a nice guy, (Y/N). Not intimidating at all. Well, not when you actually talk to him. You should try it sometime.” She said, pulling the bar door open for you. You rolled your eyes.

“I do talk to him. That’s the problem. The more I’m around him the more likely it is that I die of a broken heart. Do you want me to die, Prentiss? Is that what you want?” You said. Emily barks out a laugh at your theatrics. Your conversation is cut short as you approach the large round booth your team is occupying for the night. Emily sneaks over to sit next to Rossi, leaving only the seat next to Hotch. She smiles with false sweetness and you slide in across from her, and you kick her lightly under the table. You stay as close to the edge of the seat as you can manage, trying your hardest not to impinge on Hotch’s personal space.

You’re about to ask if anyone wants a drink when Hotch slides your favorite drink, a Moscow Mule, over to you.

“It’s your favorite, right?” Hotch asks, his voice soft over the noise of the bar. You falter. How did he know that? You probably haven’t ordered a drink in front of him in months.

“Um, uh, yeah. Thank you.” You say. He nods curtly. You both turn away from each other, and you sip at your drink, hoping it’ll take the edge off soon enough.

Despite the pleasant conversation you have with your team, you can’t shake your nerves. Three drinks deep and still feeling like you’ve had the breath knocked out of you every time you see Hotch laugh.

“So, Hotch. Anyone special in your life?” Garcia asks boldly, trying to shake the attention off her and her current love life.

Nope. Not happening. You get up from the table abruptly, shaking the table slightly as you do so. Great, now everyone is looking at you.

“Um. Anybody want another drink?” You ask. JJ requests another vodka soda and Hotch politely asks for a beer. You never drink beer, but you’re too nervous to ask which kind. You rush off to the bar, where a bartender about your age is wiping down the counter.

“Hi! Can I get a vodka soda, a glass of water, and a beer, please?” You ask, feeling your nerves dissolve. The bartender looks up, his blonde hair falling over his eyes.

“What kind of beer?” He asks. You shrug, defeated.

“Honestly, just surprise me.” You say. He smiles, clearly amused, and turns to get your drinks. You don’t even notice someone approaching until you hear a familiar voice clear his throat.

“(Y/N).” He says. You turn, trying not to shy away as Hotch towers over you.

“Yes?” You say, willing your voice to not sound squeaky.

“Can we talk?” He asks, pulling at his tie.

Fuck.

“Sure. Let me just…” You trail off, motioning at the bartender. Hotch nods in understanding. Just as he does, the bartender slides the drinks over to you. Hotch grabs JJ’s drink and walks it over to her. Emily sends you a suggestive look from across the room. You flip her off and turn to the bartender.

“Please add these to Emily Prentiss’ tab. That’s P-R-E-N-T-I-S-S.” You say, and the bartender laughs.

“No problem, um-” He says. You smile.

“(Y/N).” You say, filling in his blank.

“Well, nice to meet you, (Y/N).” He says before being flagged down by another customer.

You turn around with your water and Hotch’s beer, only to bump right into the older man.

“Jesus fuck!” You exclaim as ice water stings your hand. Hotch laughs, a deep rumbling sound that completely entrances you.

“Sorry.” He says, freeing up one of your hands by taking his beer.

“I hope you like that kind. I’m not much of a beer drinker.” You say, trying for a smooth recovery. Hotch nods appreciatively.

“This is perfect,” He says, and you unclench slightly, “could we talk outside? It’s a bit loud in here.”

You nod, and he guides you out of the bar with his hand on your elbow. The crisp evening air takes some over the edge off. Hotch leans against the brick wall and you do the same. You’re only illuminated by the purple neon “open” sign hanging over you.

“I wanted to apologize.” Hotch blurts out, taking you by surprise. You tilt your head to the side, asking a silent question. Hotch almost dies on the spot.

“I- I’ve acted inappropriately towards you, and for that I apologize. I value your expertise and think you’re an invaluable member of this team. I never intended to make you uncomfortable.” He says in a rush, throwing you completely off guard. It takes you a moment to remember how to talk, but when you do all that comes out is-

“What are you talking about?”

Hotch runs a hand through his hair and smiles, but it looks painful.

“Please, (Y/N), don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” You ask, completely bewildered.

“That I have feelings for you.”

And then you wake up.

Well, this is the part where you should wake up, but you’re still here, outside with Hotch. Hotch. Aaron Hotchner. Who likes you.

“What?” You said, not trusting yourself to say anything else. Hotch smiles again, resigned.

“Please. You must’ve noticed. I haven’t been exactly inconspicuous. And again, I’m sorry. It must make you very uncomfortable for someone more advanced than you in both age and position to be so blatant in their feelings for you.”

“What is happening?” You whisper, mostly to yourself. “You- you like me?” You ask as if he hasn’t made it obvious enough. Hotch actually has the audacity to look ashamed as he nods. After you’ve had a moment to process, you can’t help the world-stopping, blinding smile that graces your face. You tentatively reach for his hand. Hotch looks up at you in disbelief as you entwine your fingers with him.

“(Y/N)?” He asks carefully, not fully trusting the scene unfolding before him.

“I had no idea,” You say, feeling elated, “I always thought I was the one being obvious about my feelings.”

Hotch jerks his hand away, and your face falls.

“But- you shouldn’t have any feelings. Not for me.” He says, his face turning stony before your eyes.

“Why not?”

“Because, (Y/N)! I’m too old for you. I can’t give you what I want. You deserve to be with someone your age, someone who can give you all of his time.” He says, taking a step away from you. You take another step towards him.

“Hey, no. Is your name Aaron Hotchner?” You ask, pulling him towards you.

“What? Yes.” He says, clearly confused. You slowly and gently take his face in your hands, bringing his forehead down to yours.

“Then you are what I want, Aaron.” You whisper, the name tasting sweet in your mouth. Hotch practically melts, pulling you into a hug by your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck and revel in the warmth of his body and fast beat of his heart.

“(Y/N), my darling girl,” He says softly, pulling back slightly. “Can I kiss you?” He asks. You nod eagerly, and he pulls you to him. He kisses the way he loves, carefully yet passionately. When you pull away you feel like a new woman, and you wrap your arms around him once again.

“You are amazing.” He says, his words warming you even more than his touch. You kiss him again.

“Let’s go home, Aaron.” You say. And you do.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner imagine #hotch imagine #hotch x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds imagine #ssa hotchner

168 notes · View notes

ourladylennon · 3 years

Text

this is a stress rant and also I absolutely have to get these thoughts out of my head and onto something so that I can understand how I'm feeling. so pardon me.

I have some very mixed feelings about my latest tattoo experience and it has been incredibly, astoundingly stressful. For anyone who was interested in how it went.

and after typing out this whole rant and reading it back my advice is: ALWAYS make sure it is exactly what you want. ALWAYS speak up if you don’t.

I have a specific style, as everyone, but the style of tattoo I have is a bit of a niche that can be hard to find: geometric design with dotwork/pointillism/stippling techniques to create shading rather then standard fill in shading. This shading style is incredibly time consuming and taxing for the artist and I've had a lot of trouble finding people who specialize in this (and within my area).

I started with an artist about 3 years ago, whom was new to me but known to be good. Got my appt set up, he drew me an entire sleeve- it was absolutely gorgeous. Went through two sessions and his work is genuinely amazing. Clean. Precise. Detailed. Unique. I didn't vibe with him too great but it was something I kind of put aside. But without explaining the whole fucking mess that became, just know that our artist-client relationship fell through. This left me with only the beginning of my tattoo. The whole ordeal was really stressful and upsetting so I put down the goal of getting it finished to try and recoup. And I just continually hit roadblocks trying to find artists who are good at dotwork and willing to do it. Often times they live in other cities/states/etc. Obviously this involves meeting a new artist, trying to figure out if it's a good fit, driving out for consultations/redoing all that process- s t r e s s. Now with covid, it's even more difficult because almost every artist I've come across that I've considered has closed books. All of them being out of town which is fine because it would be worth it. It's expected.

But after three years of this go around of trying to find someone, I was getting really put out by the process and just wanting to get this thing going. (Mistake #1- or #2 technically cause fucking up w the first artist is where it all started and I do regret it to this day).

A new shop opened IN my town- a miracle!!! I started following an artist whose work I found to be particularly amazing. Clean lines, clean shading, artistic seeming. Didn't see any pointillism, but I just like kept seeing her work and thinking damn that's good. So I decided to reach out and told her this is what I'm looking for, a dotwork sleeve and here are some examples of the style I like. I specifically mentioned this and asked if they'd be interested in working on it because I know that dotwork is not everyone's thing. The artist replied and said they've been wanting to get into and would like to do that (we'll call this mistake #3. Do not assume the artist, even if very good at other things will be good at all things. Do not go to an artist wanting a specific style without having seen their work for THAT style).

At this point I sent over pictures of my current tattoo that we'd be adding onto for reference. In my mind this is what I thought would mean: "I am looking at what you have to see how to incorporate it into a new sleeve design and see how I can create a collaborative piece and mesh the two together." (Mistake #4: that was not the case. Do not assume. Anything. Ever.)

The appt date was relatively quick despite the fact that I figured she'd be booked out for quite some time (red flag #1: not because she wasn't busy. But because this was not a whole lot of time to come up with a design but I figured "Well she knows her capabilities better than I do and she wouldn't suggest it that soon if she weren't sure). In my previous experiences, the artist will send you a proof or have a separate appt to review the design. I never received an email with said design (red flag #2, in my personal opinion. But I thought I was just being...extra? Also just thought, okay I'll see it at the appt and it will be OK, right? <- mistake #5).

I show up, there is no sleeve design. (RED FLAG #3) There are two single mandala tattoos. Outlines only. No shading. I'd also like to say my style is much more geometric fractals than it is mandala. A lot of people find these interchangeable but...they're really much different. (RED. FLAG. #4). I genuinely did not see that coming. Maybe I'm wrong to say, but this was negligent in my opinion and experience. A sleeve design ensures that your finished piece flows, that it works together, you can see the whole picture, modify, etc. Especially with it being an addition to my existing work. Cannot stress how much of a red flag.

I'm wigging out at this point. I don't love them but I want this tattoo. I'm going back and forth thinking, "maybe it's just because the shading isn't filled in I can't picture it." (MISTAKE #6: trust your gut!!!). I tell her OK well I like this about this one and that about that one. She only nods and listens, where I was expecting feedback; perhaps an "OK well we can draw it on" or "I can rework it" etc. She didn't and I am too paralyzed to speak up. (Red flag #4)

Mistake #7: I accept it at this point. I pick between the two. She has to go resize it. I'm having a literal internal freak out and battle. I am someone who DOES NOT know how to speak up for themselves. In any way. EVER. For any reason. At any time. I am a fear based individual, in fact, I am nearly certain I have APD (avoidant personality disorder) and it effects me severely and deeply. To the point that simply speaking to someone can be hard for me.

But my brain was screaming you cannot do this! You aren't sure! This is for life! It's your body!! You HAVE to say something! (RED fucking alert)

She came back with the one design resized and my heart is thumping, my chest is constricting, the throat feels like it's closing. I make myself say it. I tell her I don't think this is what I'm looking for. I literally almost busted into tears trying to say it because I was so fucking terrified and overwhelmed. I've never been in a position where I genuinely wasn't sure whether I liked what I was looking at. She says you don't need to be sorry you should speak up this is your body. So immediately, I lost a lot of tension because of her kindness. I thought she would be angry or rude or upset, just because I'm fearful. She proceeded to kind of go in and shade in with a pencil on the stencil to give me a better idea and apologized that she should have had that prepared. I continue asking questions to assuage my concerns and feel....better....ish. she offers to redraw and reschedule but I went against my gut, gave into my desperacy to continue my sleeve, dismissed my feelings as being just my typical overexertion of fear and did something I NEVER do: turn my back on my instincts. (Mistake. Mistake #8)

She was pleasant and I genuinely enjoyed her, felt comfortable with her which is not something I can say about previous artists and that's a good chunk of why I decided to continue. I liked her, I liked her other work I've seen, I just thought that once the stippling was in that I'd see it was really nice. However, I am laying there and I'm like I do not feel poking, which is literally how dotwork is done. Dot by dot. I'd feel her do the tiniest bit of dot-dot-dot and I'm like OK OK I'm just not paying full attention and missing it. But then I'd hear and feel her shading- standard shading. I'm like why is she using a shading tip? I'm just confused honestly. I'm like I have no idea what the could be for, just assume it's necessary for something I didn't realize. But I can see because I'm laying and my arms at a weird angle.

I finally get a peek while she's pausing and its....not dotwork. It's not dotwork at all, in fact. It's too late at this point in my eyes. It was only partially done but what am I gonna do? Stop her in the middle and have an unfinished tattoo? And then what? (Try to) go to someone else to have them do dotwork and have a half unmatching tattoo? There was nothing I could do. So I resigned and accepted this as the consequences of my actions and ill choices. And that's honestly been the hardest part to deal with: I let this happen to myself because I could not speak up. The only person who could have stopped this was ME. And I could not do it. That's how deeply my issues of fear run. And that is terrifying, pathetic, sad.

I'm not saying I got the world's ugliest tattoo. It's okay. Just okay. In the words of RuPaul, meh. I don't want meh. I want astounding. And I didn't do what I needed to to make that happen or not happen.

I just have been in awe over the fact that I asked for dotwork and the artist expressed no concern over this, literally had my existing tattoo right above where they were working and continued to not emulate that style of shading at all. Most of this is my fault, 90% of it. But there was negligence on the artists side and I genuinely don't think they meant it to be. I just don't think they had enough experience, but they too should have spoke up if they didn't feel they could carry it out. They gave me no inclination that they could not or would not be doing dotwork. At any point. And I do feel upset that I don't think they put in the effort or care to work off my existing tattoo in their design, and in looking back, their design also does not look nearly anything like the designs I gave for example. It was my job to walk away and request a redesign or to cancel and I didn't. So in the end this is on me. And it has been very taxing on my mental state.

To end this shit show: the tattoo I just got costed half of what my first one did, while only having taking the fraction of time as my first and being less then half the size of my first. It is not nearly as clean, it certainly reflects their level of experience. The shop environment was not fantastic: it felt a bit like as if I had walked into a chain restaurant...but a tattoo shop. There were no private rooms, there were no tattoo chairs. They were literal stools and that's not...not professional or normal. And I chose to continue.

I'm faced with some really tough decisions moving forward. I am at least thankful it is relatively small ish and wraps towards my inner arm which makes it less visible. But I'm at a crossroads of whether I go through the whole mess of trying to find a FOURTH artist to try and finish my sleeve the way it was meant to be finished (dotwork, whole sleeve design etc) and make the best of it at the risk of having a fucking patchwork arm. Or I continue to work with this artist and see the design through myself (literally design it myself which I didn't want to do but it doesn't appear that I should leave this to them), so that at least the remainder of my arm is consistent shading and work.

And because I've made it sound like the tattoo is atrocious, be assured it's not trash by any means. It's just not what I wanted. Big sis learned a big lesson.

(the immediate center is bothering me the most. But I think it can be altered. Nonetheless. The skill/experience level shows, unfortunately. And you can certainly see the difference between the stipple shading on my first tattoo and the regular shading on the new one.)

I am trying to be positive and that's all I can do. I accept the results and I think it can be fixed to a certain extent, and I can only hope as I move forward that I make the right decision and that the end product is something I enjoy.

#aye aye aye children #it was a big lesson is all i can say #genuinely helped to get all this out #i was able to identify my biggest stressor of this whole experience which is a disappointment in myself first and foremost #but i have hope #and it will be okay #as my dear anon reminded me tis but a bump in the road #sorry for the huge ass rant but i have been having the worst anxiety over it and i do feel a lot better #and i am glad to get this off my chest and move on #it's like a resolution to move forward now #deep breath! :-)

6 notes · View notes

espoir-et-reves · 3 years

Note

hi maria!!!

i LOVE your work and wanna pick your brain :)) for the writing asks:

1, 2, 4, 5, 8, 10, 11, 13, 20, 32, 35, & 39

hope your day is going well!!!!! <3333

Yooo Nadia what’s up?? No, nope I LOVE YOURS and I’d let you pick my brain but I doubt you’d make much sense of the chaos in there. Even I don’t 😂😂 okay so on with the q&a

1. How long ago did you start reading fanfiction? Writing fanfiction?

Hmm I think I started reading fanfiction when I was in middle school? I’m pretty sure the first few fanfics I ever read were Harry Potter and Supernatural fics. I was SO into those fandoms back then (still am tbh)

The first fics I wrote were in high school if I remember correctly. Harry Potter and k-pop, more precisely a few EXO x reader fics lmao

2. How do you spend your time when it comes to fanfiction? Are you primarily a fic reader, writer, or a perfect 50/50 split of both?

It depends on the day I think. On some days I have no motivation to write, so I just lose myself in reading fanfics. Other days I spend hours upon hours of writing and doing research for my fanfics, wips and YA stories.

4. Link your three favorite fics right now.

Just three??? Blasphemous but okay...

Daughter of Fire by the amazing @justjstuff -- one of my TOP favorite KakaSaku fics and also Naruto fanfics in general. Always makes my day when I see an update^^

Deep Within the Trees; Under the Boughs & Blossoms by candy_floss_consumer (I’m sorry I don’t know if they’re on tumblr) The entire series of a Different Wave is just so magical and so well written but especially this one. Gave me chills on every single chapter.

Take your pick between The Shadows of Your Heart and Dying Embers by @riseoftheblossom-ff . Just amazing.

Also take a pick from your fics. I love them^^

(I only listed fics from the Naruto fandom, because I’ve been more invested in them for the past couple of years.)

5. What are your fanfic pet peeves? Do they have a huge effect on whether or not you decide to read something?

I HATE a huge block of just words. Please, people, change paragraphs, use “ ” when someone’s talking and for the love of everything you find holy, do tell us who is thinking what and who is speaking when there are more than two characters in a scene.

The lack of paragraphs especially drives me mad... like I don’t care if it’s the best story I may ever read, I’m not doing it, sorry.

Thank you, sincerely Maria❤

8. How often do you reblog/comment on fics that you like?

Not as often as I should tbh. Especially before I began uploading my fics, I was too shy to leave a review. Still am, but I’m trying to leave comments more often bc I understand how much they can lift the writer’s mood.

10. What’s your favorite fandom, pairing, or character to read fic for?

Favorite fandoms: Naruto, Supernatural, Harry Potter, The Mortal Instruments

Favorite pairings: I’m a MultiSaku hoe so I read EVERYTHING, Dean/Castiel + Meg/Castiel, Draco/Hermione, Magnus/Alec!!

Favorite character: BAMF Sakura, Cas my little angel baby, Hermione bc we love BAMF witches and Magnus Bane the High Warlock of Brooklyn y’all✨

11. How do you come up with your fic titles?

Hahahhahahahha good question. It’s the hardest thing tbh. Sometimes I just google for a title generator, other times I sit down for a couple hours and beg for my brain to come up with something good...

13. Do you outline your fics? How much of a headache would someone get if they just looked at an outline of yours without reading the fic?

*snorts* not just a headache, it’ll be a damn explosion. I do have a rough outline for my fics, I even have the major scenes I want in a chapter written down and an ending and all that. Thing is... my mind hates me and I change everything at least three times, so I decided to just go with the flow.

20. What’s your favorite part about the fanfiction writing process?

Honestly? just the fact that I’m writing. Especially when my brain wants to work with me and creativity just hits. I also enjoy doing research for my fics, but more often than not, it leads to distractions because I fall too into whatever I’m searching for😂

32. Copy and paste your top three favorite lines/jokes/sentences you’ve ever written. What fics do they come from?

“He didn’t smile back at me,” Sakura pouted and stabbed the rabbit meat on her plate with unnecessary force. --- A running joke in A Tale of Songs and Ashes is that Sakura has vowed to make Madara smile at her and she tries to get a reaction out of him every time they meet. This line started everything.

Across from him Shikamaru was smoking a cigarette, lazily observing the people around him. The sharp look he received from said boy though had him taken aback. He followed the Nara’s eyes landing on Sakura and Sasuke, before turning back to him. Shikamaru shook his head, resigned and offered Neji a cigarette.

“I don’t smoke,” he replied.

Shikamaru shrugged, “It could help with the homicidal thoughts.” --- This interaction basically is one of my favorites from Nightstrolls because it kinda highlights Neji’s and Shika’s frienship in the fic and the fact that Shikamaru often makes fun of Neji’s crush on Sakura.

Gai’s laughter filled the air around them, “What a youthful child! Shisui-kun I didn’t know Uchiha came out in spring colours as well!” --- From Trials of Change I don’t think it needs an explanation. Gai just being Gai😂

35. How much has writing fic changed your life?

Oh so damn much! I think it’s the only thing that kept me from falling apart during quarantine and the COVID-19 crisis. Writing really helped my mental health when it comes to dealing with all the stress and even members of my family falling ill and dying.

39. What’s something about your writing that you pride yourself on?

Uh, I don’t know? My readers usually tell me that I have an interesting way of writing -- whatever that means. So since they like it, I do as well?

Also, I try to make the characters more realistic, give them backstories and emotions and hobbies etc. I like that😊

Thank you so much for your questions!! Sending you lots of love💕

15 notes · View notes

kim-bobbae · 4 years

Text

12. “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

Where you’re a dancer/choreographer cum YouTuber pulling the ‘I want a baby now’ hidden camera prank on him, inspired by some of the Korean couple YouTube channels that I’ve watched where the boyfriend goes ‘wtf’ most of the time hahaha. Hope y’all enjoy it! :-)

“For the first verse, why don’t we have Jay and Ji Eun do a little duet choreography?” Wassup suggested much to everyone else’s agreement.

“That’ll work,” Honey J nodded. “The next verse would look fuller with a group choreography, so the first verse would be the best fit.”

You took a quick glance at Jay through the reflection in the mirror who simply shrugged in response, face void of any expression whatsoever and upon seeing that he wasn’t responding, the rest of them turned their attention towards you to which you nervously cleared your throat, “Sure, let’s go with that.”

You were at the AOMG dance studio with Jay’s dancers from Alter Ego and Holy Bang for a practice session in preparation for the upcoming filming of his ‘All the Way Up’ music video. The excitement of finally collaborating with Jay after years of dating sure as hell got you feeling excited all week…if it weren’t for the little argument that you guys had gotten into this morning due to a hidden camera prank gone wrong which had him leaving the house without you.

“A baby? All of sudden? Where is this even coming from?” He asked, utterly confused.

There he was on the couch replying to some emails when you had simply gone up to him and said ‘let’s have a baby’ out of literally nowhere which had him absolutely dumbfounded, to say the least.

“Well we’ve been dating for a few years, and I’m not getting any younger,” You started. “We’re in our freaking 30s…!”

“So…?” He asked, furrowing his brows at you as he put his laptop aside and tapped on his lap, signaling for you to come over.

“I love you enough to want to have a family with you, and I don’t want to get pregnant when I’m 40,” You explained, your acting skills put to the test as you tried your hardest to hold back a laughter watching how serious he had gotten.

“Babe…didn’t we agree on getting married first before thinking about starting a family?”

“But that’s what you’ve been saying for the past two years, and…” You said, successfully pulling off a sulk as you raised your left hand in front of his face, pointing to your ring finger. “I ain’t got no ring on it.”

“Okay hold up,” He said, hands on your lap. “So it’s about marriage now? What on earth are you trying to get at?”

“I just want to have a baby with you.”

“…what?”

He was gawking at you by now, bewildered by your sudden marriage-and-baby talk. Of course, the both of you had spoken about this before where he had made it clear that he had every intention of marrying you – just not now. From his two labels to his several businesses, he just had too much on his plate to think about settling down. He didn’t want to get married nor start a family without being able to fully commit his time to you as he felt that it just wouldn’t be fair to you and you knew that – he had made sure you did.

While how seriously he was taking this conversation did have you feeling a little flustered, the all too familiar beep that penetrated the momentary silence only made things worse as your entire body tensed up in panic, Jay shooting his head up as his eyes scanned the room. Having helped you with the filming of some of your YouTube content, he knew exactly what that beep meant – it was your camera running out of battery.

His face hardened as he spotted the red blinking light from your camera that you had hid behind stacks of magazines in the dark corner of a shelf across the room and he shifted in his seat, gesturing for you to get off his lap before he walked over to retrieve it.

“What’s going on?” He asked, looking at the camera in his hand and then back at you. He was not amused and you definitely weren’t expecting things to pan out this way.

“It was a hidden camera prank,” You explained with a sheepish smile.

“You got to be kidding me.”

“It was the most highly requested video for the longest time!” You said, trying to defend yourself.

On top of the choreographies that made up the bulk of your YouTube content, you tended to vlog from time to time, showing little snippets of your daily life varying from simply hanging out with your friends or the creative process for the collaborations that you did with other artists. However, ever since your relationship with Jay had gone public last year, the majority of your new subscribers have been his fans with many leaving comments on your videos requesting for you to include more of Jay in your videos.

It started off simple with you filming some of your dates and backstage moments with his artists but every now and then, you’d respond to some of their hidden camera prank suggestions to which Jay had reacted to very sportingly. After all, it was entertaining for everyone and more than anything, he was glad that you and his fans were starting to get along despite the initial backlash that you received when news of your relationship first broke out.

“There is a time and place for everything and the conversation we had really isn’t something meant for anyone else to listen to,” He stated.

Yes, he was a fairly private person, especially when it came to his relationship with you. He had always made it a point to ensure that his appearances on your videos were never too intrusive, too.

“What were you expecting to get out of this? If I had gone along with it we’d be filming porn by now,” He said, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “You really had to interrupt me while I was working for this? C’mon…”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t kno- I mean, I didn’t mean it and- …I’m sorry,” You whispered.

For a while he simply stared at you, at a loss for words before he let out a sigh of resignation, “I need to cool off. Call Dukhwa if you need a ride to the office later.”

Without any opportunity to iron things out with Jay prior to the dance practice as he kept himself busy in his office right up to the minute prior (you weren’t going to risk aggravating things by knocking on his door and interrupting his work again after all), you were left without a choice but to attend practice putting on a professional front, the both of you trying your best to put the incident behind as you guys worked on the duet choreography together.

“What do you think of simplifying the shuffle to a side step? I think it’ll look cleaner,” You said.

“Yeah okay.”

“Should we do a wave for this part?”

“Yeah, whatever you want.”

Despite most of the practice progressing rather smoothly, the awkward air between the two of you did get a little obvious with how stiff you guys were at any physical contact. His chic responses in comparison to how he’d enthusiastically contribute ideas when he was speaking with the rest of the dancers was also a dead giveaway. Nevertheless, you powered through the five-hour practice and you couldn’t be more relieved the moment it ended, although it didn’t last for long as everyone packed up quickly and shot each other knowing glances to leave the studio to give you and Jay some time alone.

The silence was thick as you packed up your belongings, Jay sitting with his back against the mirror while he watched you in silence.

“About this afternoon,” You finally spoke, picking up your bag before turning around to look at him. “I’m really sorry. I just want you to know that I would’ve made sure you knew about the footage after I was done filming, and that I’d only use it if you were comfortable sharing it with the public.”

“It’s not that I’ll be uncomfortable with it,” He explained. “It’s just that the internet would have a whole bunch of opinions about our relationship, marriage and family planning.”

You nodded, your gaze falling to look at his feet instead.

“As for me, I don’t really care about what they’ll have to say and you know that. I’m just worried that you’ll be affected and the last thing I want is for all the success that you’ve built from your dancing and career to be overshadowed by something as silly as this.”

He then stood up, taking your bag off your shoulders and setting it on the floor before he murmured a soft ‘come here’, pulling you in for a hug and kissing the side of your face.

“I’m sorry,” You told him, relaxing into his touches.

You were just glad to have gotten the tension out of the way after working around it for the whole day. Fights with Jay weren’t common and you were just not used to him being angry or upset despite how long you guys have been together. He was never too proud to apologize nor forgive and if you had to choose one thing you loved most about him, that’d be it.

“I’ll put a ring on it and have babies with you,” He chuckled. “Just be a bit more patient, I’m working on it I swear.”

“I know,” You laughed, then buried your face in his chest in embarrassment.

He pulled back just enough to look at you, cupping your cheek with one hand while the other maintained its hold around your waist, “Heading home?”

“Yeah, you?”

“I’m meeting Pumpkin in a bit for a meeting. I’ll see you at home after, and we can think of something else to film for your video this week.”

You smiled, giving him a peck on his lips before you wriggled out of his grip. “I shouldn’t hold you up any longer then.”

“Shall I get someone to drive you home?”

“No it’s fine, don’t worry about me,” You said, picking up your bag and slinging it over your shoulder.

“Well then,” He said, grabbing his jacket from the bench and handing it to you. “Take my jacket, it’s cold outside.”

“What about you?”

“I have another one in my office,” He said with a smile, then waved you off.

“Alright,” You giggled. “I’ll see you later then, don’t keep me waiting too long.”

#Jay Park #jay park scenarios #jay park drabbles #AOMG #aomg reactions #aomg scenarios #khh #khh scenarios #khh imagines #khh reactions #park jaebum #park jaebeom

209 notes · View notes

thecaptainhelm · 4 years

Text

Good Love

ayyy, ch.1 to a however long i say series, it’s daminette, it’s wet, and i’m raring to go babey. *sips hot tea from a champagne glass, like a classy mofo* imma bout to fuck y’all up

Enjoy!

Damian Wayne knew two things that morning.

He was sore.

Marinette took another one of his firsts.

His body was heavy, his eyes itched, his back hurt and his arms felt like lead. Everything without a doubt indicated his form bearing a dull pain. It was his own fault, though.

He didn’t want to break up with her. Marinette was one of the few good people he knew he could keep close without the threat of being stabbed in the back, both figuratively and literally. She was someone he could lean on wholeheartedly, through choking tears and bright, breathless laughter. Marinette loved to laugh, especially with him, it seemed.

All of that was the problem, surprisingly..

Looking back, it was never a problem, more of a false dilemma that wouldn’t leave him alone, whispering from the corners of his mind whenever things felt too good to be true.

You don’t deserve this.

What made you think you could be happy like this?

How dare you, after all you’ve done!

It was only a matter of time until he ruined her. So he made a choice. He ended it, rather mundanely too, considering the life he led.

So, while every fiber of his being was protesting, he headed home to Marinette, for the last time.

When he got to the apartment, his mood was somber. This was going to be rather sudden, an actual spur of the moment decision after all. Marinette would be devastated. His girlfriend was in the kitchen, pushing chopped vegetables into a pot next to the stove. She’d been excited to make soup for them tonight for the past two days. He was going to ruin that.

Better now than later, he’d felt.

“Marinette, we need to have a discussion.” She looked up from the counter as she stopped mixing the batter, and he gazed at her softly. He wouldn’t be able to do things like this with her anymore. Not ever.

“Yes, cheri? Oh, you don’t look so good,” she swiftly wiped her hands on the embroidered towel he bought for the apartment when they first moved in together and raised a hand to check the temperature of his neck and forehead. He slowly pulled away and she frowned.

“You don’t have a fever, is it something else, maybe? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you this pale.”

“It’s not an illness, Marinette,” he grabbed her hand and pulled her to the loveseat they argued over getting. She wanted a love seat, while he would rather have a small armchair. He admitted grudging defeat when he saw that it fit the decor more, while allowing more intimate room for cuddling. He tried to stop thinking about the sudden memories, but they were everywhere. The furniture, the charcoal drawings on the wall, the throw blanket on the couch, the tapestry next to the balcony window, all of it.

Once, before he’d come to this decision, these things filled his chest with warmth, a soft and gentle happiness that he was growing more addicted to by the day. Now he didn’t want to look, not anymore, not ever.

“Marinette, I’m,” Damian choked, peering earnestly into her eyes. Under the fluorescent lighting, they pulled him in with their sweet and understanding look. He could say anything else. He could tell her that he used to be an assassin, that he used to be Robin, that he was going to become Batman, anything but this and she would never have to know that he had almost ended their relationship. He could marry her, instead of going through with this, but...

Not anymore, not ever.

She silently patted his hand, and he grabbed it, hating himself as he steeled his nerves.

“I’m,” he breathed. “I’m, my therapy is doing well. Going well, I meant to say, that is, I’ve--” The speech he prepared was all but useless, a mere guideline. Marinette gazed at him with patience.

“I’ve come to understand myself a bit more, and I decided that I needed to do some things,” he lamely stated.

“I need to go back home, to do that. Back to Gotham, where my family is, but I’m,” Here it was. Fuck.

“I’m not taking you with me, Marinette.”

Silence, then: “I understand, Damian. Whatever you need, I’ll support you, okay? I love you, so much.” She moved to hug him, but he painfully leaned away from her touch, letting go of her hand in the process. He would never be able to hold her again, not ever.

No, you don’t understand, he thought, and hopefully you never will.

“Marinette, I’m breaking up with you,” he swallowed harshly. “I’m sorry, but I can’t allow myself to use you like I have anymore.”

“...What, use me? Damian you aren’t making sense,” she reached for him again, but he scooted away to the other end of the loveseat.

“I had realized that, sometime ago, I began to use you as a crutch. You constantly support me, love me, and listen to me, to a fault, in fact,” he looked somberly at the floor before meeting her gaze again.

“I started to treat you like you were my therapist, not my girlfriend. I’m sorry, Marinette. I’m so, so sorry.”

She laughed wetly. “It’s fine, Damian, cheri, I promise it’s fine. As long as we know about it and address it together, then we can fix this, together. I promise, so, please…” She started to choke back tears.

He shook his head. “I’ve made my decision, Ha-- Marinette.”

“Well, what do I get to say in all this?!” She snapped. “I don’t want to break up with you, at all Damian Wayne, I,” she blinked hard.

“Damian, I want to be with you, for a long, long time. I want...” She stopped trying to get the words out, and started trying not to cry instead. She seemed to be resigning herself. Good, he thought as his chest twinged. This is for the best.

Once more, you’ve proven yourself a monster.

Even she, whom you claim to love, gets hurt in the end.

You really are a bastard.

“I’m sorry. I,” I never wanted to hurt you. It’s better this way, I promise. Please don’t cry. I’m so sorry. So, so very sorry. I love you. I’ll always love you, Habibti, Rabia. Ya Amar.

"Au Revoir, Marinette.”

It had gone as smoothly as a breakup could, in the end. He dreamed of turning back countless times, made himself sick from it even, as though his body knew that he couldn’t live without her..

Damian began to move his things out the next day, to be directly shipped back to the manor. He’d already sent the message to Alfred, though his reply gave the impression that he would have a lot of explaining to do. She was his first crush, his first girlfriend, and now his first ex.

The hardest part, unsurprisingly, was avoiding Marinette.

She was the only person he knew in New York, besides his therapist and his coworkers at a finance firm, but the part that made it impossible to avoid her was that she was a self-employed businesswoman. Quite successful in fact, successful enough to pull vacation days on his ass as she got a second wind to persuade him back into her arms.

That night, he’d slept on the couch, but he could hear her muffled crying, so he slept in his car for the rest of the week. During that time, she tried talking to him again, wanting an explanation. He gave her the same thing in different words each time, so she started to change her approach.

She came at him softly, gently, and lovingly, every time. They talked, they discussed. He would say the same things again, and she would come up with a new reason for him to stay. He would waver, and she would hold him like he could shatter at any moment. Then he would get mad and she would get mad, and they would start to argue and argue and argue, all while he packed his belongings, and she pleaded behind him like she was doing everything to keep him from leaving.

He wanted to turn back so many times, fall into her embrace like nothing ever happened. He wanted to be with her, be in love with her, and her to be in love with him. He wanted that for the rest of forever and far beyond that.

You’re undeserving of her love.

You don’t have emotions, you never have.

You can’t be like other people, not ever.

“Not ever,” he whispered.

He stood in the doorway, looking out into the hall. Marinette was behind him, leaning against the door.

“So, I really can’t change your mind?” He turned around. Her arms were wrapped around her waist, a defeatist smile on her lips.

He shook his head.

Marinette gazed up at him, and he was struck by the sudden fact that this was it. He would never see her again after this day, for the rest of his life. He burned her image into memory, the way her long skirt fell as she stepped up to him, the slight sound of her rustling turtleneck sweater, her scent lightly wafting around them as her hair fell from her shoulder, all as she moved towards him. For the last time.

I love you, his heart pleaded him to say, I was wrong, Rabia, I’m still in love with you! Please, take me back. I’ll never be so foolish again.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“I know,” her lips pulled into something kinder, but she didn’t seem to have the strength to smile. Her arms made an aborted motion to hug him and he appreciated her restraint. He had to leave, before he crumpled.

“Damian,” she called as he was halfway down the hall. He stopped but didn’t turn back.

“You have nothing to be sorry for,” he heard her shuffle. Silence, then:

“And, I am so very proud of you, Damian. Thank you, for loving me. Thank you for allowing me to love you as long as you did. I’ll always cherish our time together.” This was…

"J't'aime et au revoir, Damian. Toujours, j’t’aime.” He whirled around as the door clicked shut.

Marinette had given him her blessings, as well as bid him farewell. It’s truly over.

He swallowed, and headed down the elevator, walked to the parking garage, unlocked his car. He sat in the passenger seat, unthinking, before closing the door and sliding behind the wheel. At some point he started driving, but halfway through he realized that he wasn’t on the way home to Gotham. He pulled over in the middle of nowhere and cut the engine. Nothing and no one was around. He started to feel a little lonely and heartbroken. He didn’t want this, not all.

He wanted Marinette. Damian tightly gripped the wheel, knuckles pale.

“Don’t you dare,” he hissed to himself. “Don’t even think about it. Just, go home.”

Home was in an apartment in uptown New York. Home was where Marinette was.

No! His vision went red.

He grabbed the penknife from under the dash and he viciously stabbed himself in the leg, over and over again, shouting and shrieking in accordance with his true nature.

“You’re going back to the manor! Habibti doesn’t deserve someone broken like you! She doesn’t need you, any of your problems, any of your burdens, any of your so called love!” He stopped, breathing frenzied.

“She needs someone human. That someone is not you, Tafrukh Shaytan.” He slumped, panting.

It would never be him. Not anymore. Not ever.

-----

no more me 2000 bc twinges in two thousand words or less. class of ‘06 (3006)

lmao i meant wet with tears, psh, you thought, have you seen my icon?

My ao3

#daminette #maribat #the projection of my mental health never looked so sexy #i <3 u 3000 ni no more me 2000 #fanfic #I'm Still in Love With Her #ch.1 #tw: self harm

49 notes · View notes

flow-green · 3 years

Text

19-08-2021

“I think I’ve never had more chaotic year than this one,” I confessed one evening when we drove in a car somewhere. My SO gave me a warm look and I checked to the back seat where my Charlie-baby was sleeping. If somone would have told me year and a half ago that 2021 will be a true turnaround in my life, when I will throw away all the life chains and take full control, I would have rolled mye eyes and gotten back to my endless vicious circle of career. I think ever since 17-years old I have followed the norms the society has set up: graduate high school, sprint through university, meanwhile make sure you work so you won’t get drowned in depts, get a job for your field of interest, in the meantime take some loan for some random house and if you have a moment, please, make some babies. Ever since I was a child, I knew right away: that’s not me. I don’t know what it is that makes me want to break these frames. But, oh well, there is no point to raise my voice for my own good as all the other people around me are nicely stable in the system. Some of my exes are on the same line: if you are not a parent by age 31 and do not own a gorgeous house in the suburbs while paying a sickly huge loan, meanwhile ignoring your family, friends and hobbies to make ends meet just so you could work yourself to deah by age 40, then you are a loser.

Few weeks ago in Saaremaa, while tipping my toes and feet into the warm and comforting waters of Estonian sea, I realized where I have drifted with my life. Only now I have started to realized that, f**k me sideways, I am actually a living human being. A LIVING person. I LIVE.

About 2 months ago, near summer solstice, I finally felt the finalizing ticking in my brain that pushed me gently to the edge of unknown. “Will you?” the life asked and motioned me to jump. “Or will you stay here forever, wondering what’s down there?” And so, with shivering hands, I clicked ‘send’ button on the mail that delivered my resignation letter to my boss. Done. Over half a year full of mental terror and a slow suicide will come to an end. At this point I had insane regrets. How am I supposed to throw away an opportunity and 6-year long career just because I do not want to live anymore? Now you’re probably thinking I am being a drama queen and overexaggerating. Oh, dear god, no. There were days, where everything started to tumble down in one go: my love life, my family relations, friends and work relations. On these days I switched myself and my phone off, listened to some serious melancholic tunes, sat alone for hours or drove around with a car and now, admitting for the first time: I hoped that something will happen and I do not need to live here anymore. I admitted this once also in my therapy, that I have frozen up while driving, not really giving a damn about my leg on gas pedal and about the speed.

I am once again a fat, useless, lazy, clumsy, slow and unorganized. Blessed with sore black eyes, a girl with unstable nervs and flaked nails. And all this just to give myself to a work which does not appreciate any sacrifices I make.

And I did it. This is MY life. My path and my decision, I ain’t going anywhere and even if I do, I’ll go with a smile on my face and as a queen for a day.

Few days ago I realized with full heart that this was one of the most important decisions in my life. I went for a run, as I have started to pick it up again. I went and set a goal to run approx 20 minutes. I had time. No rush. Only responsibility waiting for me was one project to improve a home page of our fresh company, but there was no strict deadline nor a passive aggressive boss-lady stalking my every move and making sure I am around even off-hours. So, my 20 minute run became to a 1 hour run, which was successful, nicely progressive and easy. I enjoyed every minute, because I was present. I had nowhere to hurry. I did not worry about the future or the past. I was just excisted. And I breathed.

I think I have cried more this year than in total for all past years. In my 9 to 5 appartment cubical lifestyle I always pushed away everything that demanded at least some movement out of comfort zone. For exaxmple I always closed in when my ex partner had an idea to do some changes. Well, true, his changes did not comply with my dreams. I did not want to get a huge loan to buy a house and sprint out 2 babies just because ,,Martin and Marge had their second kid in their gorgeous house and Martin is only 1 year older than me.” OK, is nice for them I guess? Every time these silly arguments started to come up, I switched myself off into my safety bubble, all alone. I let no emotions, chaotic situatons to influence myself and I just slowly flew on my laid down path, with eyepatches on. I always knew I want something different. I wanted to fight and be heard. Every time there was a conflict at work, with a friend or family member or with a partner, I eliminated it in the early stages and just ignored the rest.

And when these eyepatches were finally removed, everything else followed. I had no pink glasses or filters for emotons. Real life was there for me, but not always in a bad way. Real life offered everything, you only had to have guts to reach out and take it, with all its plusses and minuses. Take it, dominate, take responsibility, but don’t just float by. Get yourself togeter, notice, do, learn and experience. If not now then... when?

This half of a year has thrown so many obstacles and opportunities on my way and I have caught most of them. I guess one of the most difficult period was spending some insane time at a house in the middle of nowhere, without any water or normal comforts. This has made me appreciate small benefts of our everyday life.

I think I have mentioned this earlier as well, that February and March were probaby the hardest months this year. I was given a challenge to overcome and boy, it was tough. Namely, I got pregnant. As a woman who has never wanted to become a mom due to several and long reasons which I will not discuss today, I was in a cocmplete shock. I felt happy, scared, angry. Why now? Universe has its twisted sense of humour and it turned out that the pregnancy is not carriable for medical reasons and abortion is a must. I did not have a single day to stay home and mourn and endure grief. Oh, no, they needed me back to work ASAP. So I ignored the pain of loss and carried on with even more enormous work tempo to keep up. This period started a chain reaction which pulled me cruelsomely to the edge of the cliff. Work does not sleep, it waits impatiently. Even on these two horrible days I had to go through with the process, I did some work since I had become irreplacable.

All the emotions sealed up just blasted out as soon as some smaller bebble hit my bicycle. I cried hysterically, screamed. There were no days where my eyes weren’t bloodshot and with dark underlines.

In some sort of a sick twisted way I felt good, since I was needed, everything depends on me and I am sure it will get paid off nicely in the end when I have worked until my nose bleeds. In this tunnel vision I did not realize that skipped recovery and unresolved grief had made me this maniacal, delusional self-centered zombie, who lived for her workdays. All my free time I spent worrying about next work day. I did not notice anymore how my mom is doing, how are my friends and what is my partner up to. Every time we went off to one of our van trips I just existed somewhere in my thoughts about how much there is still to do. And it’s even more sadder, that I did not even notice myself anymore in the free world.

“Yea, but how would you go on?” was the main question I was asked when with a shaky voice I admitted that I need to quit my job right now and don’t want to take such responsibilities for a while now, only for myself. Everyone can do it. If there is a will, there is a way.

I am happy that I have at least won almost the entire battle with eating disorder, although I have to admint I am not proud over the inner criticizm about my body, which has grown 8 kg heavier since last summer. This means I still have days I hide under baggy clothes and just wait until these dark thoughts pass. There are days where I absolutely veto going to the beach because ��it’s cold’. Actually I am reminding myself of that year where I had a killer six-pack, hip bones and tiny bikinies fit me so well, but now I look more like a curvy, slightly soft female not nearly showing signs of being physically active. Although, I am now in that golden zone where my weight is not going up nor down almost at all, no matter how much or little or what kind of foods I eat (plant based always of course). I guess it is positive, my body has found it’s perfect zone, but I--- don’t really like it. This mentality here is something now that I have to work with, with all my spare and peaceful time.

Since 25 July I am (f)unemloyed. And happy. I have made sure that I will be secured, will not be homeless and have food and I have a first step of a plan prepared. Priority for now is to help myself out of this destructive black hole that influences not only me but other close ones as well.

I don’t have black shadows under my eyes anymore. I sleep deep, without any random wake ups, I finally have time and motivation to cook, bake and test out recipes that have been collecting dust since forever. From day to day I get back to introduce myself to my long lost hobbies like kite surf, reading, writing, drawing and yoga.

I have finally startrd to realize that next to me there are people that I love unconditionally and to whom I have shown insanely rude attitude. Have you ever felt that re-falling in love again? I am currently feeling it with tripple multiplications, because I have once again fallen in so much love with my dog, my boyfriend and my hero on this topsy-turvy road, my family, friends and life itself.

I will not even take a glance anymore to that 100 promises I made earlier this year. Life is just so much different with completely new challenges. If anything, then I can mark this time period here as my new and fresh chapter for my life.

#ed recovery #ed #self care #quit my job #my life #adventure #van life #carefree #my story #blogging

2 notes · View notes

thepancakedetective · 4 years

Text

University Life

Akira is fidgeting with the end of his hoodie string. Akechi looks up from his university level criminal law homework and shoots him an annoyed look.

Akechi: Some of us are trying to get somewhere with our lives, I suggest you do the same.

Ann rests her head on Shiho’s lap as she poses for a new Instagram post. Shiho is busy watching her latest soccer match and analyzing places for improvement.

Ann: Speak for yourself Mr. Future Prosecutor. I’ve already established my future —as the next cover girl model for Vogue!

Akechi sighs and shakes his head.

Akechi: I wasn’t talking to you.

Futaba glances up from her laptop which displays an incomplete code for a client.

Futaba: I don’t understand why you’re so hard on your boyfriend for choosing not to go to university.

Akechi opens his mouth ready to retort before being interrupted by Makoto. Makoto is working on the same homework essay as Akechi.

Makoto: It’s only natural to be concerned. Four months have passed since graduation and Akira hasn’t shown any career interest outside of his numerous part time jobs.

Ryuji: I think you guys just need to chill. Give a man sometime to figure themselves out! Look after months of searching, I’ve finally landed a job as a personal trainer at that fancy smancy gym down in Shinjuku. The benefits and pay are awesome. Plus, I get to work out for free.

Akechi: Exactly why I’m concerned. If Ryuji has already landed a good paying job, what does that say?

Ryuji: Hey, what do you mean by that?!

Yusuke is in deep thought staring at his unfinished painting.

Yusuke: Maybe the answer lies, in where it does not speak.

Everyone sends him a quizzical look. Haru puts down her tea cup and gently pets the sleeping cat in her lap.

Haru: I think what he means to say is, why don’t you all give Akira a chance to talk? I’m sure it must be unpleasant to not be included in a conversation which is centered around yourself.

Everyone turns to look at Akira who has frayed the ends of his hoodie string ties. His eyes are hidden behind the glare of his glasses.

Akira: I’ve come to a decision.

Akechi: Well, please don’t keep us waiting.

Akechi gives Akira one of his forced Detective Prince smiles. Akira pauses before opening his mouth as if to gather his thoughts.

Akira: I want to open a private investigation firm.

A few eyes widen at this sudden statement, predominantly Akechi’s whose mouth hangs open a few centimeters.

Akechi: You what? I understand the adrenaline rush of what we all did in highschool to expose that filthy conspiracy ring must have hit you the hardest as our former leader, but I didn’t expect it to go to your head so much.

Haru shoots Akechi a warning look.

Haru: Give him a chance to explain himself.

Akechi frowns are resigns himself farther down in his seat.

Akira smiles at Haru and nods his head.

Akira: I’m not asking to reinstate the Phantom Thieves. I just want to offer that same platform of help again to the people who need us.

Akechi opens his mouth but is cut off by Akira.

Akira: Outside the law. We’ve all seen what happens when the legal system fails. Even with amazing people like your sister Makoto, that corruption still lies there. By the time you and Akechi get into the legal system to clean it up, there may be countless lives which fall through the cracks. That’s why I want to do this. I hope you all can support my decision.

The room is silent. Ryuji is the first one to talk.

Ryuji: If my man wants to become a private investigator, of course I’ll support him. Maybe I can even assist in catching the perp!

Futaba smiles and pulls down her headphones.

Futaba: Likewise. If you ever need assistance accessing police records or other resources, I’ve got your back. I still owe you for helping solve my mother’s death.

Akechi and Makoto exchange looks.

Makoto: I don’t see why I wouldn’t support your decision. I can see it took you a great deal of courage to come to it. I’ll be here to support you with whatever legal knowledge I know. Of course, my sister would probably be more of a help than me at this point. I can contact her to get the steps of establishing a reputable private investigation firm.

Ann wraps her arms around Shiho.

Ann: You’ve already got my vote, chief. I can always use my celebrity and industry connections to assist in cases if needed. Also if you need a hot undercover detective, you can count on me!

Yusuke nods his head at the painting.

Yusuke: I can see it now. Truly a wonderful sight. If my artistic expertise and skill can be of use, I would be happy to present them.

Haru: It looks like we’ve come to a decision. As everyone has already noted, I as well am willing to help in whatever way I can. My...father has left me with many financial resources at hand. If you need an initial investment, I would be happy to provide.

Akechi looks at all of them in disbelief.

Akechi: You all can’t be serious. Just accepting things so easily like this. Truly naive.

Akechi gets up from his seat and grabs his things, haphazardly shoving them into his backpack. Ann gets up to follow him as he pushes past to move down the attic stairs.

Ann: Akechi! Wait—

Makoto stops her and shakes her head.

Makoto: Leave him. He just needs time to process things.

Akira: I should go.

Before waiting for the other’s reply. Akira is down the stairs and out of the cafe door scanning for any signs of the upset brunet. He is nowhere in sight. But Akira has a feeling he knows where to find him. He arrives at Inokashira Park finding Akechi shortly, sitting hunched over at a lone bench. His hands cover his face.

Akira: Akechi...

Akechi just shakes his head silently. Akira takes a seat next to him.

Akira: I’m...sorry.

Akechi looks up sharply, redness outlining the rims of his eyes. Anger bubbles in his next words.

Akechi: What could you possibly be sorry about?

Akira: You would have preferred I discussed this with you prior.

Akechi laughs without humor.

Akechi: Akira. I’m just upset that you didn’t ask for my help. It’s petty I know. But this. This is one thing in your life I could have helped you with. You know I’ve been somewhat of a private detective myself. I want to help you so much Akira. But you never give me the chance. That’s why I’m upset.

Akira’s eyes are downcast towards his losely interlocked fingers.

Akira: All my life I’ve been going with the flow of events and letting others do the talking for me. This time I wanted to choose my own decision independently. I hope you can understand.

Akechi sighs and leans his head tiredly against Akira’s shoulder.

Akechi: I can understand even though it still makes me upset. But it’s my own ego that’s causing me to feel like that. Honestly, I’m happy that you’ve come to a decision. It’s fitting for you. I just wish I could have been a better support as your boyfriend.

Akira’s fingers laced together with Akechi’s.

Akira: You already are.

Akechi turns and raises his eyebrow.

Akechi: How?

Akira watches the ducks mill around in the distance near the lake. The tip of Akira’s ears become red as he mutters,

Akira: I kind of wanted to become a cool boyfriend like you.

Akechi’s eyes widen and a small smile traces his face. His eyes are full of warmth. Akechi wraps his arm around Akira’s back.

Akechi: Does that mean I can still convince you to go into law with me?

Akira: No way in hell. I don’t want to take those crazy entrance exams.

Akechi presses against Akira.

Akechi: I’m sure with me as your tutor, you’ll get in with flying colors.

Akira: Mmh, maybe.

Akechi: Imagine the excitement. Law student by morning, private investigator by night. Fighting the system along side your cool boyfriend. You’d like that sort of life right?

Akira: Now you’re just teasing me.

Akechi purses his lips.

Akechi: I may be. But I’m also a 100% serious. What do you say? Will you give it a try?

Akira laughs.

Akira: I can’t win with you, can I? Okay, I’ll do it.

Akechi: Good. I can think of a few ways we can celebrate the occasion.

He presses his lips against Akira.

Akechi: I love you Akira. I’m proud of you.

Akira kisses back.

Akira: I love you too Akechi. Can’t wait to start my next chapter with you.

Akechi smiles.

Akechi: Likewise.

Part 2: [Link]

#persona5 #university au #persona universe did not exist #akeshu #shuake #goro akechi #ryuji sakamoto #ann takamaki #futaba sakura #haru okumura #makoto niijima #yusuke kitagawa #vandyfics

51 notes · View notes

hopefullystillliving · 4 years

Text

Shed Skin Chapter 8

Searching in the Space Between the Trees

Velisa should be resigned to these kinds of things happening by now. Posy had dragged him into this mess against his will, but now he’s intrigued, and it’s not like he has anything more interesting to do then hang out with his sister and the new Snake Prince, Ward of the Bobcat Queen, etcetera, etcetera. But even though said Prince wasn’t what he’d expected, that doesn’t make either of them good company.

Chapter 7|Chapter 9

Masterpost|LAOFT

Sympathetic!Deceit, past Unsympathetic!Deceit, Sympathetic!Remus, LAOFT Linda/Percy

Warnings: More sibling bickering, like I’m not currently able to show you what they actually think of each other without their biases and the two are not friends. That’s pretty much it I think

Words: 1891

Title from Friendly Dark by Ollie MN. What’s this? Oh yeah. OC perspective baby! And with it a true name. Vél means machine in Icelandic, and Isa is a Frisian/Ancient Germanic name that means ice or iron. Machine ice. I’m having way too much fun with this. Just wait for Posy’s ;) But I’m going to keep calling him Iskop because that’s what he’s going to be mostly referred to as in-story. Anyway, sorry this chapter’s so late. I’ve been very busy, and I’m pretty sure my updates are going to slow down thanks to school and other such delights /s. I’m also losing my motivation, because I am subject only to the whims of my hyperfixations and I was suddenly and aggressively drawn into a Star Wars one, and am seriously considering pirating the entire Clone Wars series to binge. Such is life. But yeah, I can’t promise that the next chapter will be coming next week, but I am aiming to post at least every other week, to try and maintain some semblance of a consistent schedule.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧

It was the afternoon that they were supposed to be meeting up with the fairy who was somehow the Ward of the Bobcat Queen, and Velisa was standing in the middle of the road, next to his sister, waiting. He couldn’t stress enough, even if only to himself, that this had not been his choice. Did he have better things to do with his time? No. Did that matter? Also no. Posy and the Prince were both brats, and sure, he didn’t hate his sister, but he had no desire to spend entire days with her while also having to deal with the heir to the head of the Court. At the moment, he was pretty sure he was developing a twitch in his eye from listening to her anxious buzzing. Even though his mind wasn’t processing what she was saying, it still registered the background noise, and it registered it as irritating. They had been waiting for far too long already, but he only made the mistake of pointing out that the Prince would probably not be showing up once. He’d learned his lesson after that. So here he was, standing around, and trying his hardest to only focus on music. He had ideas for compositions, but none of them were sticking in his mind. It’d been a while since he’d made a new song, and he was getting bored of the ones he knew.

He jolted back into awareness at Posy’s sudden excited noise, and looked up to see the snake-faced prince approaching.

“Dee! There you are! I was getting worried you weren’t coming.” His sister said, waving at the gentry that was walking towards them.

“You said to meet here today. It would’ve been… rude to not show up. Wouldn’t it?” he said, crinkling his face up in what seemed to be genuine confusion. Velisa didn’t have much of an opinion on him yet, aside from skepticism because he was gentry and not very clever- but hadn’t Posy said that he’d been introduced at the last revel? The revel that had happened four days ago? And the last one had been two weeks before that… and apparently ever had the phrase “just walked out of the dark and air” been more apt. The Prince was tiny- and not only in stature. Was this going to be another problem he’d have to deal with? He sure hoped not. Velisa wasn’t a babysitter (his sister, unfortunately, didn’t count) and had no plans on becoming one, especially not for someone with so little lasting power. Either Posy would get bored or the Prince would, and then he wouldn’t have to worry about playing nice.

“Alright, c’mon. Hanging around in the middle of the road all day is stupid.” Posy declared, refusing to see the irony in her words, and dragged them both off. At least he knew where they were going: a clearing nearer to the edge of the woods that she and a mortal of hers had found. She hadn’t shut up about it all morning, bragging about being able to find interesting places and having “friends”. And despite whatever pleasure he got from the Ward of the Bobcat Queen being bossed around by his younger sister, Velisa was not amused at being put in the same position. It wasn’t worth arguing, though. He needed to save his energy for when it would matter, and if he tried to gripe at Posy for this it not only wouldn’t have any effect on her, but it could give her more ammunition. He was practiced in picking his battles when it came to his sister. So instead of focusing either in on himself or on his immediate area, he focused on their surroundings.

While the edges of the forest tended towards the “mundane” (read: dull), there were exceptions. Just as there were patches of ordinary woods even at their very heart, there were gaps in the tapestry of the edges, where all that was fey could grow and twist and hunt. It appeared that one of these gaps was where they were aiming for.

Here, the trees were almost all evergreens, and they were getting progressively bigger. Parts of the newly-forming path were completely shadowed by enormous branches. The oaks and ashes were dwarfed by their coniferous counterparts. The ground was carpeted in both snow and a thick layer of pine needles, thick enough to make it feel soft beneath his boots. Posy was doing her best to sing to echos, but even that, and the Prince’s insistence on actually paying attention (Velisa gave it no more than an hour before that stopped) couldn’t break the serenity this part of the forest exuded. He was so focused on ignoring his sister that he almost missed her announcing their arrival. As he looked up from his thoughts, he saw their destination in all its glory.

He hated to admit it, but it was beautiful. There was a gap in the trees, yes, but the canopy above them was so thick that only the barest rays sunshine managed to reach through the branches. The light snow that had fallen that morning hadn’t made it here, leaving a crisp, dry chill. Somehow, though, there were fireflies, swarming above their heads and illuminating the clearing with a light too ethereal for an ordinary bug. The entire place felt shrouded in stillness. Stillness that Posy was trying her hardest to shatter. As usual.

“So here we are! Saga and I haven’t come up with a name for it yet, but she’s been busy lately so she could’ve thought of something by now.”

“Who’s Saga?” The Prince wondered.

“A friend of mine. She’s mortal, and not full grown yet, so she always has school to do. It’s irritating, and it means I haven’t seen her for a while. We found this place last time she had a vacation.”

“You’re friends with a mortal?”

“Yeah, she’s pretty cool. And she’s clever. I deal with the woods, and she deals with plans. She always has great stories, too.”

“Huh. Why does the clearing need a name?”

“Well it wouldn’t really be a Name, only something to call it. There are a lot of clearings, after all-” Velisa was able to let their chatter sink into the background. He sat himself down on a flatter piece of the ground and allowed himself to drift off. Music was more interesting than whatever they were talking about anyways.

That was what he focused on, until he heard Posy addressing him and unintentionally paid attention.

“Hey Lilly! You haven’t said a word yet. Contribute to the conversation, would you?”

“A word yet.” he replied. He wasn’t here by choice, after all, and he wouldn’t let his sister forget it.

“Ugh, that’s not what I mean and you know it. You’re awful. Dee, can you do something?”

“Why did you call him Lilly?” The gentry asked instead. Whether it was out of tact or a distinct lack of it, Velisa couldn’t tell. But why was that what he’d had to bring up?

“Oh! Yeah, you asked about Nokken yesterday. So, mostly Nokken tend to be seelie, and they’ve got this whole set of neuroses around their gardens. Now, since they’re water fae, they can’t have traditional gardens, so they have water lilies instead. Iskop isn’t seelie, but he still makes these weird ice garden things when the water’s cold enough. Or, he tries, at least. Since he tends to fail so miserably at what’s supposed to be his type of garden most of the time, I call him Lilly.”

He knew what she was doing. Being just barely technically correct, while deliberately not elaborating to give the wrong impression, and insulting him in the process- he wanted to correct her, but to do so would mean breaking his self-imposed conversational ice-wall. It was a trap, obviously. It was a trap. It was a-

“Wow. Somehow, despite having known me literally your entire life, you got that almost entirely wrong.” trap. And by the shadows he still managed to fall for it. But he would make sure she wouldn’t get away with it. “And ‘whole set of neuroses’? Care to rest your own wings first, or should I bring up last night, Madam ‘Wrong Way’?”

“It was the wrong way!”

“It was a detour, which I explained to you at least four times, and a harmless one, and if you weren’t so committed to your precious directions-”

“So what’s right, then?” The Prince cut in, and once again, Velisa couldn’t tell if he was spoiled and oblivious or trying to redirect the conversation before yesterday’s argument started up again. It was infuriating, but he refused to let that distract him. Let it never be said that Velisa wouldn’t take the opportunity to school a gentry when handed the opportunity on a silver platter.

“Nokken tend towards unseelie habits, but are usually seelie. We guard our gardens, and our ponds by extension, as ours. Unseelie Nokken still have gardens, either made of the dead plants and logs from our ponds, or ice. Mine are ice. Posy calls me Lilly because she’s infuriating and self absorbed and can’t keep to her own business under pain of death.” He finished flatly.

“So not every Nokk can make ice? That’s interesting, but it makes sense. Do the more traditional gardens have to be made of lilies?”

“No.”

“Huh.” He said. “Can you tell me anything about sylphs?” was directed at Posy.

“Why do you care?” He cut in, because it didn’t make sense. There had to have been some trick, but instead the heir to the head of the Court was acting, apparently sincerely, like a naive kid. Which- alright fine- wasn’t out of the realm of possibility, but it was so entirely unexpected. Valissa was old enough to remember the Lord of the Forest’s reign, though not much of it, and the fact had remained that Princes, Queens, just Gentry as a whole, weren’t kids. They were the orchestrators of the Wild Hunt, the most powerful Fae in the forest, clever and often cruel, and didn’t ask such weird questions sincerely.

“I want to learn. I can’t do that if I don’t have something to learn about and something to learn from. Knowing is better than not knowing, and there’s a lot of things I don’t know.” The Prince’s nose was squished up in a way that made him look even younger, and Velisa felt squishy and confused. He didn’t like feeling squishy- that was wrong, he was ice and chill and old dark wood, he shouldn’t be squishy- so he ignored it. It didn’t matter. His question had technically been answered, and even if there were many more that hadn’t been, they would have to be content remaining unasked. He sat back on his log, ready to interject into Posy’s no doubt self-aggrandizing explanation about sylphs with as much concentrated embarrassment as he could manage.

This, little sister, was payback- he thought viciously, listening for the best opportunity to strike and watching the Prince’s attentive expression. What had he called himself again? Dee? If he did stick around, he was going to need a nickname. The trick would be to pick one just irritating enough…

For the first time that day, Velisa had a good feeling about this.

☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧-☙❀❧-☙✿❧

@thefivecalls

@nefilibatadraconi

Hello you two! Have a nice day/night.

#sanders sides #laoft #laoft fic #love and other fairytales #hopeful's writing

23 notes · View notes